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#I should present them individually in posts sometime
arminreindl · 1 year
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Croc colours and patterns
Somewhat inspired by a recent post by Joschua Knüppe, I feel like it's a good thing to remind people just how diverse colours and patterns in modern crocodilians are. When I see people make art, it often seems to stick to grey or yellowish-brown tones, which is of course not incorrect. But theres a lot of, imo, underappreciated variety still. It's also worth noting beforehand that patterns are most striking in younger individuals and naturally become more muddy the older and larger an animal becomes. But as you will see, even some decently large and old animals may maintain a striking appearance.
Take this alligator for example. Gators tend to be on the darker side, dark greys to black, sometimes countershaded and sometimes pretty consistent. Some individuals, like this one photographed by Gar Luc, still retain clearly visible stripe patterns from when they are younger.
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Or take one of my favourite species, the Cuban Crocodile, which can appear almost bright yellow with a dense pattern of leopard spots. Of course like with the gator you can find individuals that are much more drab, with washed out colours, but individuals with clearly defined patterns still exist.
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Then there's gharials of course. They can range quite a bit in colouration. They can be brown, especially younger ones and females and I've seen males range in colour from a drab grey to almost a light blue or even something that could be described as metalic black.
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Black Caimans are also pretty interesting in my opinion and pretty easy to tell apart from other species once you pay attention to their colour. They are primarily a deep dark black of course, but what sets them apart from spectacled and other caimans is that very fine pattern of thin white stripes across the flanks that creates this beautiful contrast. They can also have patches of brown like the one on the right.
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Orinocos also vary a great deal. Tho I know less about them than I wish I did, I know that individuals can range from drab brownish greys to yellow to somewhat earthy browns that almost range into reds.
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The next ones a bit of an outlier. There are specific cave dwelling dwarf crocodile populations in western Africa with striking orange colouration. Tho this one is not exactly natural pigmentation to my knowledge and instead the result of the chemicals present in the water they inhabit, brought there by bat guano. Still very pretty animals.
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And then there's Paleosuchus, the dwarf caiman which contains two species. Again highly varied. The first image, which I believe is a Schneider's dwarf caiman, shows a very earthy brown. The others, which unless I'm mistaken are Cuvier's dwarf caimans, show colours ranging from dark with a rusty head, black to this still beautifully patterned individual. Of course these variations are also subject to change with age.
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While salties aren't exactly known to be the most vibrant, I'd be remissed if I didn't mention this specific one. It's kept in a zoo in Germany and has this almost bizarre colour combination of creamy white underbelly and chocolate brown top which I've never seen in another saltwater crocodile. Photos by my friends Markus Bühler from the Bestiarium blog and René Dederich
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Spectacled, Broad-snouted and Yacare caimans I'll give a quick shout out. I think most people are familiar enough with how they look like and while their colours aren't anything special, I still think one should appreciate their patterns of spots and stripes and facial markings.
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The last one I wanna highlight is the false gharial, Tomistoma, another one of my favourites. Part of the reason why being its at times beautiful reddish-brown colours.
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hiiragi7 · 1 month
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Things I've experienced post-Final Fusion:
All of a sudden, the days felt really... really... really long. I never really felt like there was any time in the day prior to final fusion; living my life in parts, I had never experienced such continuous flow of time before. It's long.
It feels like I now have a lot more time to do things in the day, and I have to be careful not to push myself too hard. I've found myself being online less and less and getting a lot more involved in my offline hobbies and reading. I have a lot more time to work towards things I want to do.
I can actually think about and plan for the future now, and it's incredibly exciting. I talk to my partner constantly about it. I am very excited about the future.
I can remember so much more of my childhood, things I never thought I would ever remember I now do. That being said, there are still things I don't remember, likely tied to other memory issues, and I've made my peace with that.
While my memory certainly got significantly better in many ways, I've realized I struggle with non-dissociative memory issues as well, and I will live with those issues for the rest of my life; it's just how my brain developed, and that's okay.
Speaking of memory, I can remember things freely that before were limited to the memory banks of my individual parts. I no longer have to worry about what parts hold which memories and go about tracking them down; I as a whole either remember something or I don't, and of my memories, I can remember any of them whenever I want.
I feel a sense of ownership over my life, over my memories and my sense of self and my body. I can look at it all and very confidently say "that's me", and I feel and know it to be 100% true. A long way away from not being able to recognize myself in the mirror.
I can't dissociatively "take a break" from life the way I used to (ie switching out and letting another part handle it), and while it took a long adjustment period to get used to this, I'm okay with that; I have other ways to take breaks while still being present, I can listen to music or watch videos. If I really just need to be unconscious, I take a nap.
I had to come to terms with the fact I couldn't push myself past my limits anymore in the way that I used to, and that this is in fact an expression of self-care for me. I used to be able to push far past what I should have been able to, especially with regards to physical pain, and to some extent I can still do this under specific circumstances, but it is no longer something that I will do in my day-to-day life living with disability and chronic pain.
Actually existing in my body now, I have come to realize just how much chronic pain I have been in. It's made me a lot more alert to my needs and how to care for myself, what makes it better and what makes it worse.
When people say "there's always a chance you'll split again", it doesn't scare me; it comforts me to know my brain would still know how to cope if such an extreme situation occured that I needed to split again. I've worked through dissociative barriers, I could do it again. I know what lies at the end of that path is love.
No part of me has ever gone away. Even fully fused, we are all still here. I can even still communicate with myself as parts if I choose to. I still have parts, they just look different now. There are no barriers between us.
My parts held a lot of different aspects of my identity to them, aspects I'm still to this day sorting out. I've had a lot of realizations about who I am as a person post-final fusion, especially with regards to gender and disability. A lot of things about myself were formerly very heavily fragmented and dissociated which no longer are, and I'm still making sense of them.
I no longer experience flashbacks and nightmares. This is a major thing for me I sometimes still am in disbelief about, my nightmares used to be so severe that I would refuse to sleep because of them, and my flashbacks were horrible and caused very intense physical sensations. I no longer have them, and that's incredible.
Life is so much more vivid and colorful than I ever realized. I never realized how dull everything felt and looked before final fusion. It feels like a complete perspective shift that is hard to grasp in words.
I can feel my body so much more now physically than I ever could before. I feel each of my limbs, I feel changes in temperature, I feel my own breath, I feel different textures and sensations, everything I hear and see and feel and taste has so much more depth to it now.
I have emotions! A whole lot of them, and I can feel all of them. I can feel emotions that might be percieved as "contradictory" at the same time, I can feel emotions over little things and big things and just about anything at all. I'm no longer limited to feeling my emotions in parts, and it's incredibly freeing.
On that note, I have so much more emotional capacity now for feeling all of the love I have for myself and others. It's wonderful. I can't shut up about it.
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astroeleanor · 2 months
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The MOST Difficult Birth Chart Placements
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˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
DISCLAIMER
The descriptions of difficult placements are based on astrological teachings and are not definitive or absolute. It is important to remember that every individual is unique, and a natal chart should be considered holistically. Challenging placements can also present opportunities for growth and personal development. The purpose of this post is to affirm your life experience.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
8H MOON or 12H MOON
Having an 8H Moon means dealing with deep transformations & crises. This placement often brings you face-to-face with your deepest fears, traumas, and hidden desires. Every experience seems to touch you on a soul-deep level. Crises and intense situations are a part of your emotional journey, and they shape who you are in significant ways. It’s like life keeps pushing you to transform, to shed old skins and emerge anew, stronger and more resilient each time.
But this depth also means you carry a lot inside. Your emotional world is complex and layered, full of nuances that others might not easily understand. You might struggle with trusting people, afraid to let them see the raw, vulnerable parts of you. It can be lonely, carrying these intense feelings, but it also gives you incredible strength & insight into complex emotions others shy away from or suppress.
With a 12H Moon, subconscious struggles and hidden fears are brought to the surface. This placement may feel like your emotions are a mystery even to you, often leading to a sense of isolation or self-undoing (unless managed). Moon in the 12H brings your unconscious thought patterns to light, making your emotions feel elusive and hard to pin down–almost like trying to catch smoke with your hands.
You might find yourself wrestling with feelings that you can’t quite understand or explain. This can manifest in moments of self-undoing, where your unresolved issues pull you into patterns of self-sabotage.
It’s tough because your emotions are so deeply buried that it’s hard to bring them to light. But acknowledging these hidden parts of yourself is the first step toward healing. Learn to listen to those quiet, internal nudges and understanding that it’s okay to feel lost sometimes. Sit in the uncertainty, you will find the way.
CAPRICORN OR AQUARIUS MOON
Saturn-ruled moons often equate vulnerability with weakness, and this fear can prevent them from forming deep emotional connections. This placement can also symbolize having a strong sense of responsibility from a young age, therefore feeling burdened by the need to succeed and provide. Remember those times when you felt like you had to grow up faster than everyone else? While other kids were playing, you were already thinking about the future, about success, about PROVIDING. It’s a heavy burden to carry, and it can make you feel like you’re constantly walking uphill.
This placement means you’re incredibly disciplined, which is a strength, no doubt. But it also means you might feel an overwhelming pressure to succeed. You set the bar HIGH, and anything less than perfection feels like failure. It’s a relentless but exhausting drive, a need to always prove yourself, to always be enough.
Imagine carrying a backpack filled with rocks, each one representing a responsibility, a fear, a self-imposed standard. How much lighter would you feel if you could set that backpack down, even just for a moment? Vulnerability is a form of courage. It’s saying, “Here I am, with all my flaws and fears,” and still showing up.
SCORPIO OR ARIES MOON
Mars-ruled Moons feel things INTENSELY, but that can get overwhelming. For Scorpio, there's a push & pull, as you navigate through the intensity of your emotions or deep-seated fears. Trust is a big deal for you, and it doesn’t come easily. You’ve probably been hurt before, and those wounds run deep. It’s hard to let people in when you’re constantly bracing for the next betrayal or disappointment. You build walls around your heart, not because you don’t want to love, but because you’re scared of what might happen if you do.
Jealousy and possessiveness can creep in, adding to the emotional turmoil. When you care about someone, you care fiercely, and the thought of losing them can drive you to places you don’t want to go. It’s not that you want to control them, but the fear of losing them or being hurt again can be overwhelming.
This intensity is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it gives you a deep, intuitive understanding of others. You can see through facades and connect with people on a profound level. On the other hand, it can feel like you’re constantly battling with your own emotions, trying to find a balance between holding on and letting go.
You’re a warrior (Mars) in your own right, fighting battles that most people can’t even see. It’s okay to feel vulnerable and to acknowledge that this emotional intensity is a part of who you are. It’s okay to take things slow, to let trust build over time, and to find ways to soothe that inner turmoil.
Instead, Aries Moons feel everything intensely & immediately–your emotions can flare up quickly. Patience isn’t your strongest suit, so you might find yourself reacting before even having time to think things through, pointing to emotional burnout. When you get mad, you get MAD. Your temper can flare up in an instant, and before you know it, you’ve reacted without even thinking things through.Your emotions are right there bubbling on the surface, ready to explode. Of course, this can lead to misunderstandings and clashes with the people around you.
But here’s the thing, you also bring energy and excitement to everything you do. When you’re happy, you light up the room: your enthusiasm is contagious. It’s okay to acknowledge that this intensity can be tough to handle. It’s okay to admit that sometimes, you need to step back and breathe before reacting. Learning to take a moment, to pause and reflect, can help you manage those quick flares of emotion and prevent burnout.
1H SATURN OR SATURN CONJUNCT ASCENDANT
This placement can indicate that you’ve had to grow up fast, carrying a sense of responsibility that kids your age didn’t even think about. There’s this underlying pressure to be perfect, to always have it together, to be the rock for everyone else. In those moments when the burden feels too heavy, remember that it’s okay to put it down for a while. It’s okay to take care of yourself and to recognize your own worth, not just for what you do, but for who you are. You’re not alone in this journey, and it’s okay to ask for help. Carrying the weight has made you strong, but sharing the load can make you even stronger.
1H PLUTO
Power struggles, constantly re-inventing yourself & healing the deep issues that people usually shy away from, are a big theme for 1H Pluto. You might find yourself on the brink of change every 5 business days, asserting your dominance & affirming your power. There are moments when everything feels like it’s crumbling around you, and you’re left to pick up the pieces and start anew. It’s exhausting and can make you feel like you’re never truly settled, never truly yourself. But each time you rebuild, you become stronger, more resilient, and more in tune with your true self.
4H PLUTO
This placement can symbolize a tumultuous home life, where finding a sense of stability & security was incredibly difficult. These dynamics may have left deep emotional scars, making you wary of getting too close or trusting people too easily. Your home environment might have been complex, with unspoken rules and hidden agendas shaping your early experiences. Growing up might have felt like walking on eggshells, never knowing when the next emotional storm would hit. You know what it’s like to face the darkness and come out the other side. You’ve learned to navigate emotional depths that others might shy away from, and this makes you incredibly strong and compassionate.
VENUS SQUARE/OPPOSITE SATURN, CAPRICORN OR AQUARIUS VENUS:
You might feel like there’s an invisible barrier blocking you from truly connecting with others–but it's not that you don’t want closeness—it’s that you’re terrified of being hurt, of opening up and then being rejected. This fear can make it hard to let people in, even when your heart is longing for connection. You might find yourself questioning if you’re worthy of love. There’s this lingering doubt that no matter how much you give or how hard you try, it’s never enough. This can lead to a cycle of pushing people away just when they start to get close, out of fear that they’ll leave you first. It’s a defense mechanism, but one that often leaves you feeling even more isolated and lonely. These struggles aren’t just in your head—they’re real, and they’re tough. But recognizing them is the first step towards healing. It’s about understanding that this aspect of your chart isn’t a life sentence, but it’s a challenge to be faced and overcome. Remember, you are worthy of love and affection just as you are. The journey might be tough, but it’s one that leads to deeper, more meaningful connections and a stronger sense of self. Embrace your vulnerability, because it’s through facing these fears that you’ll find true, lasting love.
12H MARS
This can be a tough placement because it often feels like you’re fighting battles no one else can see. There’s a tendency towards self-sabotage, as the aggressive energy of Mars turns inward. You might find yourself in situations where you feel unable to express the intensity of your emotions or assert your power. You may even find it hard to assert yourself openly, leading to suppressed anger & frustration that festers over time. The key is flipping the script, and working on empowering yourself, healing self-sabotaging tendencies, etc. Your subconscious isn’t your enemy, but a part of you that needs acknowledgment and care.
4H MARS
You might have grown up in an environment where arguments & tensions were the norm, leaving you feeling constantly on edge, scared, or unsettled. This placement can make it hard to find peace at home, and you might struggle with feeling safe & secure in your adult life. Finding healthy outlets for your anger and learning to create a sense of security within yourself can help transform that destabilizing, Mars energy into something positive. It can help you break the cycle of conflict and create a home environment that nurtures you rather than wounds.
1H CHIRON
Chiron in the 1H feels like carrying a wound that no one else can see, but that you can always feel. It's a deep pain tied to your identity, that constant struggle with self-acceptance & stepping out of your shell. You might often find yourself second-guessing who you are, feeling like you need to hide parts of yourself to be accepted. It’s like wearing a mask, trying to be who you think others want you to be because being your true self feels too risky. Maybe you faced criticism that cut deep and left scars on your self-esteem. This can make stepping into the spotlight, or even just being comfortable in your own skin, incredibly challenging. But, as you work through your own pain, you become a beacon of hope and support for others. Your vulnerability becomes your strength, showing others that it’s okay to have wounds, to feel out of place and that healing is possible. In embracing your true self, flaws and all, you inspire others to do the same.
This is Part 1! Let me know if you want to see more placements and the difficulties they can indicate.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely. • 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :) • 🗡️ BOOK A READING with me to navigate your life with more clarity & awareness.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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t4tstarrailing · 4 months
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afab, amab, fem, and masc: basic terminology 101
hi! are you wanting to be more inclusive towards trans audience members and are an x-reader writer? well, this is the guide for you!
my name is jules and i'm a trans x-reader writer. i focus mostly on true gn!readers, trans!m!readers, and cis!m!readers. i also like to read x-reader fics. unfortunately, i struggle to find x-reader fics to read, because i don't want to risk having my gender dysphoria triggered. and i am hoping that this guide will help you be more accessible to trans readers.
and you may have seen this guide before and yes, that was also me. i lost the post, am too lazy to go and look for it, and i am also a certified yapper and would like to add some additional things.
so in this guide, i am going to be over the terms afab, amab, fem, and masc; explaining how i see people using them incorrectly and what they actually mean; explaining what words you should be using in what scenarios; how to be even more inclusive towards trans readers; and emphasizing why trans isn't a dirty word.
if you are trans yourself, please feel free to add any additional notes or experiences that you have personally had, especially in fandom spaces. and if you aren't trans yourself and want to double-check yourself, see if any of your trans mutuals are willing to chat about it! sometimes they aren't, sometimes they are, but don't be afraid to ask.
so what do the terms afab and amab mean, and where do they come from?
simply put, afab means "assigned female at birth" and amab means "assigned male at birth". it means the doctor looked at you at birth and designated your gender based off your genital presentation.
the terms were never intended to describe someone's present sexual anatomy. in fact, they come from the intersex community and how doctors designate intersex individuals at birth, either surgically or sometimes taking a guess. the terms, however, have been adopted by the wider community, sometimes successfully but many times unsuccessfully.
i see a lot of people using these terms to designate what sexual anatomy the reader has, which is wildly incorrect. not every afab person has a pussy. some afab people have dicks. not every amab person has a dick. some amab people have pussies. not every afab person with a pussy refers to their anatomy as a pussy. sometimes they call it a front hole or just a hole. not every amab person with a dick calls it a dick. sometimes they call it a strap, or they call their own hole a pussy.
afab and amab should also not be used in sfw settings. you're more than likely looking for a different term, such as masc!reader or fem!reader, or just f!reader or m!reader.
what terms are frequently used by the trans community to refer to their anatomy?
bro, there are so many. off the top of my head, for trans men and trans masc, there's front hole, mancunt, boybox, boypussy. for trans women and trans fems, the only ones i can think of off the top of my head is girlcock, girldick, and strap.
when in doubt, go the gender-neutral route and say "hole" or "chest" if you're referring to the chest/breast area.
with that being said, there's nothing wrong with trans men calling their anatomy a pussy or trans women calling their anatomy a dick. in fact, many do.
however, there does come a point where it becomes a tad bit uncomfortable seeing non-trans men/mascs people insistent on using pussy/cunt for trans men and mascs, or non-trans women/fems insistent on using dick/cock for trans women and fems. especially if people flatout refuse to entertain the idea of using other words that trans folks may find more comfort in, or force the character to conform to characteristics stereotypically associated with the anatomy (eg. usually assertive guy in canon is depicted as being submissive and needy [example: dr. ratio in honkai star rail, childe in genshin impact, kabru in dungeon meshi], only difference being he's being written with a pussy. usually quiet girl in canon is depicted as being a dommy mommy [example: hanya in honkai star rail, ayaka in genshin impact, falin in dungeon meshi], with the only difference being she's being written with a dick)
so what do fem and masc mean?
fem and masc just refer to gender presentation. it doesn't have anything to do with gender or assigned gender at birth. fem =/= female, masc =/= male. fem cis gay guys exist, masc cis women exist.
so if i go into a fanfic and it's labeled fem!reader, i'd expect a fem reader with a slightly more feminine gender presentation. words like perfume, clothes like skirts or dresses, etc. if i go into a fanfic and it's labeled masc!reader, i'd expect a reader with a slightly more masculine gender presentation. words like cologne, clothes like suits and ties, etc.
nuance: yes, this is a very basic breakdown of gender and gender presentation. mascs wear skirts and fems wear suits, i am well aware of that fact. but this is fandom, and this is what i have personally noticed in fandom spaces. i'm not trying to teach gender studies 101. i just want to read fanfics.
how are these terms being misused? again, it is improperly designating the reader's sexual anatomy. fem does not automatically mean pussy. some fems have dicks. masc also does not automatically mean dick. some mascs have pussies. these terms also do not have anything to do with sexual preferences. some fems like to top and/or dom, some mascs like to bottom and/or sub.
if you're wanting to designate a female reader, the most common usage i see is f!reader. same with male reader using m!reader. if you're wanting to specify that you're writing a cis reader, you can always write cis!f!reader or cis!m!reader.
is your reader truly gender neutral?
there's been a few times where i'll go into a fic that's labelled as gender neutral and be slapped with gendered terms. most of the time it's a one and done thing, but other times it'll be throughout the fic and i'll need to exit out of it. and, to be honest, a lot of the time i just chalk it up to people not editting.
my advice is just comb through your work very carefully. look for any instances of gendered terms, like pronouns or pet names or descriptions of clothing. if someone is willing, find a beta reader to go over it and maybe pick up on something you've missed. learning to degender your thinking is difficult given how heavily a gendered world we live in, and people are bound to slip up every once in a while. hell, i do it as well and find myself having to correct myself in my writing sometimes.
gender neutral does not mean non binary!
this isn't as common as other instances, but i do see it every once in a while. not every non-binary person uses they/them pronouns and may, in fact, use neopronouns or he/him or she/her. or use multiple pronouns! so gender neutral fics aren't inherently non-binary fics.
trans is not a dirty word!
this is honestly kind of inspired by a recent uptick in people describing male characters as afab!male character, and seemingly refusing to use the word trans in any of their content. and to be completely honest, when it's coming from non-trans people, it's kinda weird and an auto block for me at this point. because like, you're wanting to write about fucking men with pussies or fucking women with dicks, but it reads like you're scared of using the word trans like it's a bad word. it also sounds like you're centering the fact that this male character has a pussy, or this female character has a dick, and making it like a "ohhhh look at this!!! this is so unique!!!". and fandoms are notorious for fetishizing trans people, so it feels a bit borderline fetishy, especially when it comes from non-trans folks.
side note: i am a single trans person. i do not speak for the hundreds of thousands of trans people in existence. please do not harass people that do this, i am just stating my own personal opinion. as said at the beginning, i am a yapper with opinions.
this is also about non-trans men/mascs writing afab!male characters or non-trans women/fems writing amab!female characters, i am not talking about trans men/mascs writing trans men/mascs or trans women/fems writing trans women/fems.
but men with pussies exist in real life! women with dicks exist in real life! trans people exist in real life! trans is not a dirty word! just say trans and explicitly state the anatomy terms and pronouns you're using! it's so much easier to communicate to your readers what to expect!
so what formatting would you recommend to communicate well with my readers?
honestly, it's gonna sound weird, but just lay everything out so the reader can make a choice on whether or not they want to read your content. some examples that i've used in the past as well as a few others i can think of atm.
this is for specific characters i write bc i got tired of writing reader over and over again lmao.
blade is depicted as trans masc and uses he/they pronouns. he is non-op for both top and bottom surgery. his chest is referred to as his chest with descriptions of him wearing a compression top, and his anatomy is referred to as tdick and tcock. his strap is referred to as his dick.
jing yuan is depicted as a trans man and uses he/him pronouns. he is described as having top surgery scars and a fully healed phalloplasty. his anatomy is referred to as dick and hole. his partner calls him "prince" and "handsome" throughout the series.
pantalone is depicted as a trans masc and uses he/him pronouns. he is described as having top surgery scars, silver bar nipple piercings, but no bottom surgery. his anatomy is referred to as chest and tdick/tcock. his partner calls him "sir".
reader is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. they are described as having a chest, and their anatomy is referred to as hole. there are references to wetness, but it can be interpreted as spit, natural lubricant, or artificial lubricant. their partner does not use pet names with them.
sampo is depicted as crossdressing in this fic, but continues to use he/him pronouns. he is described as wearing a dress and heavy make-up. his chest is referred to as breasts, while his anatomy referred to as dick and hole.
luocha is depicted as a trans woman and uses she/her pronouns. she is described as having breast growth but no bottom surgery. her chest is referred to as breasts while her anatomy is referred to as clit and pussy. her partner uses the terms "princess" when talking to her.
ningguang is depicted as a trans fem and uses she/her pronouns. she is described as having breast growth but no bottom surgery. her chest is referred to as breasts while her anatomy is referred to as her strap.
if it sounds weird me using the word "anatomy" for a person's sexual anatomy, it's bc i'm trying to avoid any possible moderation lmao.
anywho. i'm done yapping for now. if you've got any well-intended questions, please feel free to shoot me an ask and i'll try to get to it in a timely manner. i'm also happy to discuss how trans people are frequently fetishized in fandoms, or anything else that people may be curious about.
but please do remember that i am one single trans person, i am not the end all be all of trans opinions. i just yap a lot.
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max1461 · 5 months
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This has mostly disappeared from my corner of the internet over the last few years, but it used to be the case that every once in a while some story would go around about a corporation or a government doing some fucked up shit in pursuit of their self-interest, and people in the comments and reblogs would act utterly aghast that said government or corporation would do such a thing.
This was always baffling to me, and I have only ever been able to interpret it as a sign of profound naivety. Of course, I too think it is awful, sad, and unjust when people are exploited, killed, abused or so on by the institutions of our society. But "aghastness" is not synonymous with these things, to be aghast is to be (or present yourself as) in some sense surprised. And surprise is wholly unwarranted here.
I suppose this is part of my worldview that feels very fundamental, it feels deeply obvious, and I struggle to figure out how to talk productively with people who did not get the memo: exploitation and abuse of others in pursuit of self-interest is in some sense the natural behavior of agents in any kind of competitive context. It requires a lot of effort and coordination to mitigate this behavior. We do not feel "aghast" when someone is bitten by a dog. Dogs bite people, idiot! And corporations exploit their workers, lie, cheat, and steal, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. And governments exploit and neglect their citizens, and go to war and kill and maim, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. Individual humans, as members of a social species for which cooperation is paramount to survival, have quite a lot of specific programming whose purpose seems to be to discourage us from doing these things (empathy, loyalty, etc. etc.), and yet very often we still do them!
I have relatives who have a hard time believing in US atrocities abroad, on the grounds that "Americans are the good guys, and the US just wouldn't do that". This is very stupid! Do you think the US got where it is today without cracking some eggs? Bullshit. There's never been a government or a military in the history of humanity that "just wouldn't do that". I sometimes see posts on here from tankies, defending Chinese or Soviet atrocities on the grounds that these things must be Western propaganda, a socialist government just wouldn't do that. Again, I find this so obviously false as to be essentially beneath engaging with. We don't live in a just world! Often, a very effective strategy for achieving whatever it is you're trying to achieve will involve treating people like shit. It is what it is.
I'm not trying to play defense for injustice here. Obviously I think we should do as much as we can to prevent these abuses. But I think that doing so must start with basic recognition of the following: it is the nature of institutions—being as competition between them is essentially unavoidable, and being as their decision processes are unavoidably removed from the face-to-face social context which is so load-bearing in motivating respectful treatment between individual humans—to abuse people in pursuit of their (perceived) self-interest. This behavior is mundane and expected. It can be mitigated in various ways, ideological and structural, but it will probably always be with us to some degree. To look at it and express shock in any capacity suggests a completely misguided understanding of how the world works.
This is the first and most important thing I ever learned about politics or society.
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night-market-if · 2 months
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Answering some bulk questions
I am getting the same kind of questions in my inbox and instead of answering them all individually, I thought I would just make one long post. Hopefully that can clear some things up.
Why is m!pen white and f!pen black?
Mostly because the character of Pen is death. They have no form. Not a real one. Much like the MC, the image they are presenting is a construct. So, when I thought about that, I kind of thought it would be fun to play around with two very different aesthetics (I think in the final edit I might even write them a bit different). I did this for two reasons. One, because I haven't really seen this in ifs. And two, I kind of liked the duality of it. Opposites, really. It sat well with me for the character of death.
2. Why does nothing bad ever happen to Milo? Stop playing favorites.
Bad things have happened to Milo. More so than the other characters, I would argue. I have a feeling this is more from people annoyed that a very specific bad thing won't happen to Milo. Because Milo has watched Malcolm and MC die. Was beaten as a child. Orphaned. Didn't know where his real home was or who he was. Has a ghost for a sister. (who he also watched die). Has been responsible for keeping his best friend sane for quite a few years. And got the shittiest job in the world. He has also been stabbed at quite a bit. Betrayed. And used.
I do a lot of bad things to Milo. Favorites would be if nothing bad happened to him. And defending your characters decisions is not playing favorites. It is just knowing your characters as a writer.
3. Who is your favorite RO?
I have said before that Milo is not my favorite to write. So inevitably I get asked who is. I don't answer this question because I don't want the complaints.
4. Why don't you have stats?
Because I don't like them. I come from much more of a storytelling perspective than a game mechanics one. And don't get me wrong. People that do game mechanics are awesome. I admire them a ton and enjoy their games (though my field is more video games). But that's never what I wanted the Night Market to be. I just want people to be immersed.
5. Do you feel you have to have inclusivity as a writer?
I don't know why I've been getting this one a lot. Might be something going on in the community. The honest answer is no, I do not. I have never felt pressured to have a certain representation within the Night Market. That all being said, maybe I don't feel that way because I tend to have an organically more diverse cast of characters? But I can't say I have ever felt like I have to put a certain representation in. And I don't believe writers should feel pressure for that. Because a lot of times, if you are just putting in a token character to do it, it becomes a bit problematic.
6. What are your favorite IF's and do you have recomendations?
I hate to say this, but I don't read IF's. I've dabbled occasionally in the past but I find when I read IF's, it messes with my head and my ability to write. Now, I read a lot of novels. That is my preferred vehicle of reading. But as for IF's, I probably won't read a lot of them until I am officially done with the Night Market. I struggle to enjoy stories when I feel like it is a part of my day to day job.
7. Why don't you ever speak out politically?
Because that is private for me. I don't want to. I want to provide an escape from the world. Not add to discussions that are being had by people far more adept than me. I leave my political feelings and responsibilities at home.
8. Why can't you provide (insert numerous topics) to the route?
Because coding and writing are a bitch. There is a lot of work that goes into this stuff that isn't always fun. And sometimes, as much as I would like to put something in or have a new route, I just can't. I am one person. A person who has a pretty hefty personal life. I am doing what I can.
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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 2 years
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Wild Horses
Part 3
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4
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A/N: Part 3 is finally here y’all! Sorry it took such a while to finally upload, I have been extremely burnt out and needed some time to recharge after completing my semester. Therefore I have made this chapter extra long! Also sorry if it in any way feels rushed, I tried to get this posted as soon as possible since it has long been due. Let me know if you would like some more dynamics between the reader and the other characters. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts and things that you enjoyed! (Also this chapter contains a surprise guest!) 💜💜💜
Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, slight implication of past abuse.
(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)
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🍂That night, the same night Ghost saw you on that roof, your face illuminated by the stars and the moon that seemed to pale in comparison to you, he had returned to his own quarters as stealthily as he had came. His presence had always gone unnoticed both to you and the others at this time of night, a time of night when even the nightingales had laid down to rest, exhausted from their song. When he settled himself in bed that night, his torso covered by his blanket and his arm propped up on the pillow to rest under his head, he could not sleep, staring at the ceiling just as he did the night before. His body begged for a moment’s rest, anything to let his consciousness slip away in order to escape the reality of this world in which only sleep could provide. But in spite of the efforts of his nervous system, his mind contested for a few more minutes of wakefulness, moments that would only turn into hours.
🍂There was always this unspoken battle within Simon Riley, a battle of peace and conflict, a constant struggle between giving in to the comforts of life and leaving everything behind, or preoccupying himself with his current line of work that seemed to be the only thing that kept his thoughts at bay. But starting a new life? That was something that was not cut out for him. His past was and will always be his present and his future. Society had no place for people like Simon Riley, and he it. I’m telling you, this man needs therapy, bad. And one hell of a vacation.
Never in a day of his miserable life did he know you would be thrown into the mix. You, a woman of better upbringing, a woman so delicate and blinded with hope, a woman who shared the warmth of her spirit with all whom she knew. And yet, here she was, wasting her time away in a place with the likes of them, where war consumed every living soul that ever crossed its path. God were you naïve, and completely fucking daft, he had thought to himself many times, a doctor like you leaving the hospital in the city for a place like this. Jesus. Either you were a complete fool or the military offered you a shit ton of money. Or perhaps it was your youth. After all, you were younger than the rest of them. He believed a woman of your degree should not be here amongst men like them. You were soft, tried too hard to see the good in people, and one day, one day, that might be your downfall.
Sometimes he’d find himself hoping you would transfer somewhere else. And the more he thought on the subject, the more he came to despise you being here, part of the reason why he avoided you in the first place. And yet, as the days went by, the man had developed a bit of a soft spot for you as they might say. But don’t tell him that or else he might just loose another one of his knives. Truth of the matter was, he had seen what war had done, even to the best of people. And with no disrespect, a young woman like you would get eaten up alive in a place like this.
And as much as he hated to admit it, he did not want to see you wound up in this chaos. So what would he do? He'd often times monitor your activity, and by that I mean he would on some occasions check up on you, in his own avoidant way of course, whether it be making sure you woke up by standing around the corner to see you trudge along to the coffee maker in your white coat, or catching you finish your shift when you left your office in the evening. By this time, you'd be surprised to know that he has grown familiar with part of your schedule, from when you leave your room and make yourself a cup of coffee in the morning before heading into your office, to what time you have your little lunch, down to the hour of the evening when you leave your office after your shift has ended. He calls it "running a constructive operation", but you and I both know what it is. Despite his cold, masked exterior, he's not completely heartless and does want to make sure you're safe, as with the rest of his teammates.
At the same time, your safety also depends on your environment, and there is only so much a few men can do. Perhaps it would be best if you were somehow convinced to go back to the states and leave, lest this place will end up devouring every last bit of vibrancy that radiated in you. And if that meant being callous towards you and making your time here a living hell, as if you did not belong, so be it. I know it sounds like he absolutely loathes you but I promise it only seems that way.
The man obviously has trouble sleeping, which was nothing new to him, a good nights rest was something of a rarity in his case. But now it was you he found inhabiting the walls of his mind, and frankly, he found it to be quite a nuisance. And as if to make matters worse, tonight it was your voice that haunted his thoughts, that siren-like voice that rung out softly underneath the pale moonlight as if he were a sailor awaiting to plummet to his death down into the abyss of the deep indigo waters below.
He needed sleep, desperately, and if he did not get it soon he might just go insane. That’s to say he isn’t already. And despite finding you to be the cause of the whole ordeal behind it, behind him not being able to shut his eyes and fall into a short-lived coma, you were still the only doctor here and just how was he supposed to go about that. Usually people go to doctors if they have trouble sleeping, but how the fuck was he supposed to go to you. He couldn’t just walk in your office and ask if you had anything strong enough to knock him out. Sure there was always alcohol but that meant dealing with a hangover and you most likely sending him a pamphlet about the dangers of alcoholism without even knowing like some kind of psychic. On the other hand, knowing how you were, if he were to mention his symptoms you would just ask him a bunch of questions. And then what was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep because you tormented and occupied his thoughts??? Never. He decides it’s better to just deal with it.
And boy oh boy your singing did not help. You reminded him of the nightingales that used to nest in the tree outside his bedroom window in his childhood home. You and your guitar, singing your song out into the night for someone out there, whomever and wherever they were. The song and your voice an empty promise, a false hope for the things that never were and never might come. And yet, despite his slight demurral towards you, in the days to come, he came to find comfort in your voice, his feet finding their way to the rooftop to see if you would be there.
On the nights that you were there, he would sit against the wall away from your line of sight, hidden in the shadows and listening to your voice, the only thing that kept him sane and dare say, even bring him an ounce of peace. He would say it was to make sure you don’t pull anything stupid or draw unnecessary attention towards yourself. But truth was, though he could not see it within himself, maybe he was watching over you, making sure no harm came your way. Little would he know, that your voice and the serenity of your aura would soon come to remind him of home, of the days where it was just him and his mother and the nightingales perched on the tree outside his bedroom window, the sound of your voice lulling him to a much needed sleep that his body craved.
Now back to the current.
That next morning you had woken up from the sun shining down on your face, its rays hot against your cheeks as you squinted against the bright light, pulling your blanket over your head with a groan before bolting upright, eyes widened with alarm. Oh shit, what time was it? You look at the watch on your wrist, eyes widening even more to see that it was NOON????? It's fucking noon?
"Fucking shit." You let out a string of curses between your teeth, grabbing your things off the floor only to get up with a gasped groan from the sharp needle-like sensations that shot up your spine, your back hunched over like a shrimp with kyphosis. You wince, hissing as you attempt to straighten yourself out, letting out a couple ows from the cracking sound that came out from between your vertebrae. Boy were you an idiot. Never sleep on cement, now your hips and back feel like they were broken in by the Hulk and you're willing to bet there would be bruises.
You could have sworn you looked like one of those grandmas depicted in the cartoons, wincing almost each time you took a step. A frown pulled on your lips as you headed towards the door that led back to the building, opening it up and nearly whining at the sight of the stairs spanning out below you. "Fuck my life."
You make sure to take your time going down, not wanting to tumble down the steps and risk a broken limb or concussion only to have one of the men patch you up and risk getting an infection. It's not that you don't trust their handiwork......but you don’t. And the thought of having your prefrontal cortex accidentally removed shakes you to your core. Don't tell them that though, you'd probably hurt their feelings.
"Y/n." You hear someone calling your name in the distance, turning your head to see Price heading in your direction.
God damn it, out of all the people to see you in this state. Don't tell anyone but Price is your workplace crush. I mean if we're being honest the whole team is fine as hell. But you loved his snarky sense of humor, his kind eyes and smile, and the way his eyes seemed to disappear into these curved crescent-shaped lines whenever he smiled or laughed. And now as he stood in front of you, his bulky frame towering over yours. You're praying there aren’t any spots of snot on your face from the way you bawled your eyes out last night.
"Oh fuck me." You inaudibly curse under your breath, knowing damn well that to hope he doesn't notice how you literally look a sleep-deprived Quasimodo would be damn near impossible.
"Where've you been? I was beginning to get worried." Price asks, looking over your hunched state that oddly paired with your puffy eyes and face. "Jesus Mary Joseph. Are you alright?"
"Yup, it's just allergies." You nod your head with a strained smile. "Perfectly peachy."
"Do you need any help?"
"Nope! I'm fine." You hurry past him. "I'm going to take a shower so whoever is in there right now tell them to hurry up."
Price watches you go with furrowed brows, wondering whatever the hell happened to you before shaking his head with a shrug and heading towards the showers to make sure it was empty for you. During your time there, the team had sorted out to give you a designated time slot for when you preferred to bathe, wanting to ensure that you received your privacy because of there only being shared showers, something which was common with being in the military. They had even given your own designated shower head. But even then, you always went in and came out fully dressed with both your towels and your clothes, terrified with the idea of the men seeing you in nothing but a towel once you stepped out. Luckily for you, no one was in there when you had arrived. When you hurried in there with your fresh pair of clothes and towels bundled in your arms, that had to be the quickest shower you had ever taken, other than the times you almost slept through your alarms and missed your exams back in med school.
So by the time you step out of your room with your white coat, empty coffee mug in hand and your hair barely brushed through looking like Dr. Emmet Brown, you don't even bother to put on any makeup or concealer to hide the fact that you had been crying last night, you already had a late start to the day as it was.
Going over to the kitchen, you groggily place your mug on the counter, staring at the pasty tiles for a good minute to gather your thoughts and remember just what it was your were doing in the first place before turning on the coffee maker only to see that it isn't working. "You have got to be kidding me." Honest to god if I don't have coffee in the morning I will commit a felony.
"There's no use meddling with that." Price comes up beside you, watching the way you moved the small machine around and smacked the sides with your palms. "I'm afraid it's broken."
"Broken?" You turn to the older gentleman, trying your best to mask your annoyance at yet another misfortune to add to your list of shit that happened today so you don't get written up for having an attitude or whatever it is they do here for uncompliant personnel. "What do you mean it's broken?" What you mean to say is, how the hell are you going to get through the day without your daily dose of caffeine? You were not in the mood for a caffeine withdrawal, not now.
"You'll have to blame MacTavish for that." Damn this man just threw him under the bus no hesitation.
"Soap? How?”
"Bloke put the coffee grounds where the water is supposed to go."
"He put the.......what?" You squint with a scrunch of your nose, trying to picture the young Scotsman mixing up the steps for the coffee grounds and water before pinching the bridge of your nose with a shake of your head. It's too damn early for this. Bitch it's literally the afternoon.
“You look like shite.” Price teases you of your completely disheveled appearance. Honestly he thinks you look pretty cute in a I just had 15 shots of espresso and forgone a whole week’s worth of sleep kind of way. Price is the type of man to see you at your worst looking like a corpse from the grave and dig it, with some concern for your overall health and well-being of course.
“Gee thanks.”
“You sure you’re all right?”
“Happier than a kid at Disneyland.” You roll your eyes before slipping out a small groan, burying your head in your arms upon the counter and muttering something along the lines of how you’re going to euthanize yourself.
“Oi. There’ll be none of that, you hear?”
“Wait and see.” You mumble to yourself but Price hears it anyway.
“Cheer up. I got you something.” You hear Price say to you before hearing something being placed on the counter.
"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.
"What?"
"Benzoylmethylecgonine." Your voice is louder this time but still muffled from your arms.
"The fuck is that?"
".................cocaine."
"Jesus Mary Joseph." Price rolls his eyes. “You’re a character, you. Why don’t you give it a look eh?”
You slightly lift your head from your arms, peering over to see a cup next to you.
"For ya." Price smiles as he pushes the cup towards you, watching you stare at the thing with skepticism.
"Well. Go on."
"Is that-?"
"Coffee.”
"Yeah I know that but-“ you lift yourself up to stare at the thing with a tilt of your head. “where the hell did you get it?”
"From a small coffee shop down a couple blocks."
Right. "What kind is it?”
"Iced caramel macchiato. Heard you mentioning it the other day."
"Oh. You did?” You blink. "You didn't have to do all that."
"Eh it's nothin, my treat. The men and I needed our caffeine too, and well, since Soap broke the machine, we needed to get it one way or another.” All but Simon of course. Dude hates coffee.
“What, did you tell him he's buying?"
“No.” Price leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares off into the distance in thought. “Now that I think about it I should’ve, aye?”
"Poor Soap." You shake your head with a chuckle, grabbing the cup to take a sip. “Oh......oh that hit the spot.”
Okay remember when the boys were competing with giving you little gifts and I said that Price showed his appreciation for you in other ways? This is what I mean. He makes sure you’re taken care of and that your little needs and requests are met. Though rare as composed to Soap's little visits, he likes to stop in your office at times, peeking his head through your cracked door and asking if there is anything you need. This man’s love language is acts of service, I’m sure of it.
“Proper innit.” Price chuckles at your blissed expression.
“Hm. Chef’s kiss.” You take another sip of your coffee as you lean back against the counter, savoring in the cold, smokey, buttery liquid as it went down your throat.
“The hell is on your feet.” Price nods towards your shoes.
“They’re my crocs.” You give a hurt look, the ends of your lips pulled into a frown.
“They’re downright hideous.”
“They’re comfortable!!!” You defend. “I even put little buttons on it.” You lift one of your feet up to show him.
“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”
"You should try looking in a mirror first before you come talking to me about what's hideous and what's not." You snark, a teasing tone in your voice that catches the older man off guard.
Price is stunned, mouth slightly agape as he is surprised to see such a statement come from a person as demure as you, and dare say even aroused, at being affronted by someone smaller than him. "You cheeky girl." Price shifts his weight, pressing his tongue against his molars before tightening his jaw. "You've got a sharp tongue on you."
"Don't insult my crocs." You lift your chin with a raised brow, a smug expression on your face as you lift your coffee cup to your lips.
As Price and you talked, Ghost had appeared in the far corner, his eyes lowered to the ground and not a single thought behind them before hearing the sound of Price's voice. Stopping in his tracks, he peers around the corner, not wanting to look conspicuous but also curious to see who it was the captain was speaking to, looking over to see the two of you together engaged in a conversation looking a bit too comfy.
The soldier froze, tensing at the sound of you laughing and Price……flirting? Was the man flirting with you? Ghost watched the way Price leaned in ever so slightly in your direction, a slight yet noticeable shift in his demeanor as he told you a joke, the way your cheeks swelled as you snorted, your smile hidden behind the cup held in your hands in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and the way he reached a hand out to adjust the collar of your white coat. He is not jealous he is not jealous he his not jealous. Once again, HE IS NOT JEALOUS. Looking away from the scene, he turned back around and headed back to where he came. He had no reason to feel threatened by the situation, it’s not like he felt anything towards you or if you meant anything to him. And yet, why did it irk him to see you laughing with Price like that.
That was the first he had heard you laugh, though as light and brief as it was. He could tell it wasn’t your true full-hearted laugh, the ones that left you gasping for air as tears welled up at the corner of your eyes. He had seen those laughs many times at the pub from the groups of friends that gathered together after a long day of work or when they had just left from a futbol match, times when he craved a glass of whisky. The laugh you had let out right now wasn’t one of those full chested laughs, this one was different, more timid, like fresh rain in the middle of spring, where fog blanketed and seeped through the meadows and trees, where dewdrops patterned themselves like mosaics upon the blades of grass and the petals of roses. This laugh was light and airy, crisp to his ears, and it had sent a slight shiver down the stone-hearted soldier that he had never once felt before.
He convinces himself that what he saw between the two of you was none of his concern and that who you fancy is none of his business, and yet why did he find your little interaction with Price to bother him? Better yet, why does he find himself wishing he had made you laugh instead?
It should also be mentioned that Ghost did not fulfill the task he had promised himself when he said he would throw away the Dum Dum lollipops you had given him last night, thinking your little form of bribery to be quite inane. What did you take him for, a child? Regardless of the many times he stared at those two pieces of candy with your little note next to them, your graceful and sophisticated handwriting a strange polarity to the bright and colorful wrapped candy often meant for children, curiosity had gotten the best of him, as well as midnight cravings.
And alas, with numerous stealing glances toward the lollipops and his mouth watering for just a quick sample, the man had given in. And let’s just say, he’s addicted. I mean, I was not lying when I said this man has the sweet tooth of Augustus Gloop. Also, he may or may not have snuck into your office the next morning to steal a lollipop or two, or three, before rushing out the door. So you should probably hide the those things before you walk in on an empty tray one day.
"Also, I wanted to let you know that Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap and I will be heading out on a mission later today. Gaz will be staying behind just to make sure nothing happens here while we're away." Price informs you.
"What time will you be back?"
"Not till late. If everything runs smoothly, there's no need to wait up for us."
“Geez. Will it be dangerous?” Your brows furrow at the center. You knew what their job entailed, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.
“Well that’s part of our job now innit.” Price smirks.
"Just………make sure to come back in one piece alright. I'm not trying to perform any amputations today." You scrunch your nose in a teasing manner, though your words mean more than what your voice gives away.
"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be back like before aye.” Price gives you a comforting smile, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb and forefinger against the bottom of your chin before dropping it back down at his side. Though the action was small and brief, an informal unveiling of the captain’s fondness towards you, that didn’t stop your face from heating up faster than a hot pocket in the microwave. You were sure one would burn their hands if they grazed your cheek.
The others had soon cluttered into the area where you were, chatting amongst themselves before turning towards you and price, the sudden group of movement causing you to clear your throat and step just the slightest inch away.
"Hey doc." The men greeted you, their faces brightening upon seeing you before glancing down at your bright crocs.
"The fuck are those?"
"Oh my god. Don't tell me you guys have never seen crocs before." You exhale, your voice coming out in a scoff.
"Why are they called crocs?" Soap questions, brows furrowed with confusion. You and me both Soap, I don't have a clue either.
"Looks like something my abuela would wear." Alejandro comments, a mischievous glint in his eyes at teasing you.
“Que te folle un pez (get fucked by a fish).”
Alejandra is stunned from the words that just came out from your lips, cocking his head back and tilting it as he looked at you with surprised amusement. He never knew you spoke Spanish. Maybe it came with being a doctor and being around people all the time. On top of that, was this the first time he had heard you curse? Was that a stroke of confidence he heard from your mouth? Was he offended? Was he turned on? He couldn’t tell.
But as Alejandro still stood there, silent against your remark, the others begin to wonder just what it was that you said that had him like this.
“Uh what’d she say?” Soap leans over to whisper to Alejandro, his eyes darting between the two of you as did the other men.
“Ahora, ¿dónde aprendiste una cosa así, eh? (Now where did you learn such a thing, huh?)” Alejandro nods his head towards you, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Conoces gente de todo tipo cuando eres médico. Y además, el idioma era parte de mi plan de estudios de todos modos. (You meet all kinds of people when you're a doctor. And besides, language was part of my curriculum anyway.)” You shrug your shoulders, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes meet Alejandro’s dark ones over the lid of your cup.
Alejandro chuckles, pointing at you with a smirk. “Bueno, será mejor que tengas cuidado cariño. Palabras como esa pueden meterte en problemas. (Well, you'd better be careful, sweetheart. Words like that can get you in trouble.)”
“No te preocupes por mí. Soy una niña grande Me licencié y todo. (Do not worry about me. I'm a big girl. I’ve got a degree and all.)”
“What are they saying?” Soap asks again, this time to Gaz.
“How would I know?” Gaz hisses, obviously annoyed with not knowing what the two of you were conversing about. Were the two of you planning a date? Were you plotting a scheme? Were you making fun of the rest of the team? The boys definitely didn't like being left out from a conversation, especially from you.
“I didn’t know you can speak Spanish.” Soap turns to you.
“Well it seems here that our little doctora is full of surprises.” Alejandro comments, making you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.
“Right.” Gaz squints at you in a jest, adding on to the men poking fun at you. “Now really doc, what the fuck is on your feet?”
"Oh screw y'all, they're comfy for my feet alright." You roll your eyes at the way they tease you about your choice of footwear, though in all honesty, you're not able to hide the smile that tugs at the ends of your lips, that is until a certain someone appears.
Ghost is the last one to show up, hoping to have avoided your presence. But when he sees you still there leaning against the counter, his eyes lock with yours before looking away as if you had never even existed in the first place.
You're almost sure he hates you, chewing on the inside of your cheek from the way he looked you over like a speck of dirt on his boot before completely ignoring your being. You have no clue why he is the way he is around you, wondering if he had seen the note you left on his door. He has to have seen it right? He’s got to. And then it hits you, at least you think. Maybe your little detail of adding the lollipops had offended him, and you’re almost terrified to think what he thought of them. On top of that, he still had never bothered to show up for his blood results. So he truly was avoiding you on purpose, wasn’t he. You wish you knew the reason behind his avoidant behavior. Did he find you disgusting? Was that a possible reason? Had you somehow at some point offended him? Were you going to end up on his hit list? Maybe. Were you going to die some mysterious death by his hands tonight? Sounds likely.
“Alright you lot. Let’s get moving.” Price gestures the men to follow him before turning back to you. “We won’t be long. Gaz, you know the rules.”
“Yessir.” Gaz nods his head before stepping over to you, looking down at you drinking your coffee with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure this day will go by smoothly.”
“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”
You wish he had not said those last words.
You had spent most of the day relaxing as Price had suggested when the men left, their gear strapped to their forms and their guns locked and loaded. A strange scene I might add, if one were to walk into the area of the building and see a group of bulky hardened soldiers and then you, a young woman in a white coat and scrubs and her special decorated crocs along with her vintage Donald Duck watch. You almost looked out of place with the war-ridden atmosphere.
When you had stepped into your office the first time that day, you were surprised to see a slight change in your usual environment, the lack of an apple at your desk. This absence, though small and what one might call insignificant, had saddened you to a certain degree. Though at first you found the little act to be annoying, of finding the red fruit there every morning placed upon your desk, as time went by, you had grown accustomed to it a bit. So when you noticed the absence of the apple after expecting to see it just like the days before, it had lowered your spirits. Though you did not know the meaning or intention behind the gesture or the person directly involved behind it, it had come to bring you a sense of security, a slight token of someone’s watchful eye over you. Or at least that’s what you believed it to be. Little did you it was just a simple act involving the confusion of idioms.
But imagine your confusion when in place of the lack of an apple, you instead find your tray of lollipops looking a little less full than it was yesterday. Had someone broken into your office or were you just loosing your mind. And as you inspect the little tray, you're even more surprised to find a distinct black, powdery substance smeared against the side of it, right on the edge. Using your thumb, you wipe it off the side of the tray, raising your hand to further inspect the foreign substance to see that it looks a lot like eyeshadow.
"Huh. That's strange."
Ooooooo someone just got caught.
With the men gone, all except Gaz of course, you went about reading more chapters of your book, lounging about on the couch in the common area before your nerves got the better of you and you decided to do some cleaning around the area, to which Gaz had offered some help, with much eagerness in his end. Gaz of course had kept watch, letting you lead the conversations as the two of you made small talk every once in a while before going back to your little tasks, you with your paperwork and inventory of medical supplies and Gaz with his patrol.
During the moments where the two of you did talk, you began to unravel little details about each other, details mostly involving Gaz since you still preferred to keep your walls up. You called it being professional, but those who were close to you would call it a fear to let others in. Perhaps they were right. After your father’s death, you had rarely let anyone in, sometimes not even your own self. And Gaz, being the sweet soul that he was, never pressured you to reveal anything you did not want to. He wouldn’t ask about your personal life or your past unless you offered to.
The more the two of you talked, the more you learned little things about the soldier that you never knew, like his love of the ocean and how he had wanted to become a marine biologist when he was a little boy, as well as how his favorite sea creatures were, and still are, sea otters and sea turtles. He had even mentioned how his favorite movie was Nemo growing up, with Crush being his favorite character. In fact, the movie was what inspired him to study in that field in the first place. He was extremely almost embarrassed to release that bit of info to you, scared that you might pass it on to the team and that he’d never hear the end of it. When that little bit of information slipped from his tongue, he practically begged you not to tell the others. So imagine his relief when you stick your pinky out in an offer to make a pinky promise on it. You honestly find it kind of cute.
As time dragged on and when the day had become night, when the sun had long passed the horizon to lay to rest, you had grown quite weary waiting for the men to return, and oh was there a sight waiting for them to behold once they did. Your little act of cleaning around the house had drained a good amount of your energy, eventually causing you to crash out on the couch with your head resting against Gaz’s shoulder. Your legs were curled up on the cushion of the sofa, your book placed open on your lap after Gaz had asked if you could read to him, curious about the story within the binding. But the late hour combined with the cleaning around had pulled a yawn from your chest as you read the pages out loud, your voice low and muzzy and your words drawling out as your eyes scanned the printed letters before another yawn escaped your lips, and another, then another, before everything became blurry and you slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.
Even Gaz, who was supposed to stay watch, had fallen asleep beside you, his head thrown back on the back of the couch and his mouth slightly parted as soft little snores escaped it. He was never one to fall asleep on duty, known for his control over his mental fortitude. But the poor soldier had soon followed suit, infected by by your fatigue as he too yawned after each time you did. In that time, he smiled down softly as he watched you grow tired next to him, resting your head unconsciously on his shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the thin line of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth.
He almost felt relieved, and comforted to see this side of you, after having seen you do nothing but shove your nose into paperwork and files on top of staying on guard to take care of them and make sure no serious injury happens on your watch. And as he watched you, making sure to stay as still as possible as to not wake you, your soft breathing and the warmth radiating off your body had finally pulled him in, until eventually, his state of alertness fell limp, his head rolling back as he too drifted off shortly after you.
You don’t know long you had been asleep, nor did you know you had your face smushed up against Gaz’s shoulder, your lips parted slightly and your drool pooling into a wet spot on the fabric of his jacket. If you did, you don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye from how embarrassed you’d be. Not only did you most likely cause his arm to cramp up and fall asleep under your weight, but you had also marked his shoulder with your saliva. And if the others were to see this, they would have a kick out of it, with Soap taking multiple pictures at unflattering angles and teasing the two of you for the days to follow. And in a short matter of time, they would have seen it, stumbling upon the scene if they had not burst through the front door like a team of SWAT.
The sound of the door slamming open and their shouts had startled you awake, their voices echoing through the front of the building and making you sit up in your seat.
“What the-“ you mutter out groggily, squinting against the dryness of your eyes and not even paying mind to how you had completely crashed out. Where they back?
“Sounds like trouble.” Gaz had also woken up next to you, quickly getting up from the sofa and rushing towards the commotion as you followed closely behind.
You almost froze at the scene, watching the men come into the area with their faces worn out and beaded with sweat and spots of blood. You knew what they were getting into, what their job required of them, yet seeing them return from the mission first hand had in some way unsettled you. Sure, you had worked in the ER during your residency. You had seen conditions far worse than this, patients suffering from injuries ranging of a varying degree as they were wheeled around, gruesome wounds that still at times scarred your memories till this day. And yet, why did this seem to daunt you far worse than anything you had seen in the emergency department. It's almost as if you forgot these men were killers, and you didn't quite know how to feel about that.
Alejandro had been the first to step into the area, carrying an injured Soap under his arm and helping the Scot walk next to him as he muttered some words of encouragement in Spanish.
“What-what happened?”
“Nada serio querida. No te preocupes. (Nothing serious love. Don't worry.)” Alejandro answers simply, groaning under Soap's weight and from his own injuries.
“Nada serio querida.” Soap copies what Alejandro had said with a limp in each of his steps, his face pale from the loss of blood from his wound as he gives you a smile to assure you that everything was in fact fine, though we all know this isn’t the case.
“Well it sure as damn well looks serious to me Alejandro.” You remark as you hurry over to help the man set Soap down carefully on a chair, your voice slipping the hint of your father’s accent, a small habit that revealed itself whenever you got upset over something. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tread carefully around me, I'm not made of glass you know."
Alejandro fell quiet as he watched you try to examine Soap, taken aback by this more....authoritative side of you, not that he had any reason to be surprised, you were a physician after all and this sort of conduct was necessary especially since people's lives were in your hands. He had not intended to alarm or offend you, the reason why he said those words in the first place, but the situation itself had managed to speak much louder than his words could ever manage. And in this moment, maybe it's best to let you be in charge.
Your eyes scattered about the area as the others soon came through, focusing on each and every one of them to try to gauge both their mental and physical state. Ghost was the next to enter right after Price, his blackened eyes from behind his mask meeting your concerned ones for a brief and fleeting moment before looking away. The skull-masked soldier was supporting another man, another masked soldier you had not seen before, one whose stature towered over everyone around him, even Simon Riley himself, whom you have thought to be tall enough already. Y'all already know who it is.
“Sir-“ you spoke up to the troubled-looking captain as he walked up to you, your eyes studying the wounded and bloodied scene behind him. You don't know what the hell happened back there, but you didn't need to hear the details to know it wasn't good. “Is everything alright? The hell happened?”
“Y/n.” Price finally stood in front of you, his hand placed on your shoulder as means of reassurance, or even a way to steady his exhausted body as he turned back to his men, running his fingers through his beard before looking you in the eye. “We were ambushed. Suffered a few injuries but we got the most of em.”
“You sure? Y’all look like you took quite the beating.” You state lightheartedly but more so from a place of worry and sympathy. “Listen Captain, if you don't mind, I need to take a look at these men."
“Right. Right.” Price nods his head, breathless from the mission. His countenance was masked behind an aura of composure as he looked over his injured soldiers, but one look at his eyes told you otherwise. He was tense, nonetheless, and you could clearly see the restlessness behind them from the way he held responsibility over the lives of his men, believing himself to be accountable if any harm should come to them.
“Do you have any wounds I need to take a look at sir? Any trauma to the head? Any lacerations or punctures?"
“No. No, I’m fine.”
"It'll be alright." You give the man a comforting smile, placing a hand on his arm to provide the only means of consolation you can give him in a moment like this.
“Thank you.” Price returns your smile, placing his hand over yours and giving it a soft squeeze. Though he felt contrite for throwing such a burden on your shoulders, he knew that you were the only person qualified enough around here given the circumstances, and he could not be more grateful for your presence. "Just....let me know if you need any help."
"Of course."
The men were badly beaten from what you observed as you examined them. A few fresh bruises marked their bodies, nothing terribly serious, but Soap, Alejandro, and the new guy were the only ones who had sustained more serious injuries. MacTavish had taken a bullet to the thigh, but luckily for him, the bullet had missed his femoral artery as well as any major nerves in the area. The poor Scotsman had felt bad for disturbing you at such a late hour such as this. But you had reassured him time and time again that this was part of your job, and that you had read over the part of the contract that said you would mostly be on-call when you signed your name at the bottom.
Soap doesn't know why he was so on edge as you operated on him. He’s nervous, extremely nervous. And what does Soap do when he’s nervous? He talks, like a lot, like a lot a lot and I don’t mean that lightly. I mean this man just talks your ear off while you’re wiping away any excess blood on his thigh and practically knuckles deep into his bullet wound. This man had been shot before so why should this be any different. Was it the local anesthetic you had injected into him? Or was it because you were a practicing physician and therefore would be able to pinpoint the finer details and eventually break some kind of devastating news to him like "I hate to break this to you Soap but I'm afraid I'm going to need to perform an amputation." Also I genuinely believe this man is afraid of needles. Don't ask me how I know. I just know.
"Y/n." Soap speaks up, gulping from the question that is about to spill from his lips as he watches you disinfect his wound.
"Hm?" You hum, focused on cleaning the area where the bullet had lodged itself.
"Am I gonna loose my leg?"
"What?" You stop, raising your head to give him a weird look. "Where'd you get that idea?"
"Don' know. Ye look pretty serious..........................ya sure I'm not gonna loose my leg?" He asks again, the panic in his voice more evident this time as an image is generated in his mind of him having a wooden pegleg like some kind of pirate.
"No. No you're not going to loose your leg Soap. You're just fine.” You go back to mending his bullet wound. “If anything, you're just going to get a few stitches. I am going to have to leave the bullet in place though, so don’t fret.”
"Yer leavin the bullet in there?" Soap's face pales after hearing your statement, eyes wide as he stares at you like you’re some kind of lunatic.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can feel you staring at me like I’m crazy. The reason I’m leaving the bullet in your leg is because it’s not in a fatal area that needs removal, and it's going to do more damage than good if I take it out. And besides, your body will build a sort of......wall of scar tissue around it so you'll be fine.” You try to explain to him in a way he can understand.
“I will?”
"I promise. Now once I’m done here I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics and pain relievers as well as an ointment to help with the healing process and keeping away infections. Just make sure to get some rest and go easy on that leg of yours and you'll be up and running in no time."
"Oh.....okay."
Poor Soap is still nervous, despite your words of consolation. So in order to ease the tension he decides to crack a few jokes, a trait that has become familiar with his teammates, much to their annoyance, whenever he's out on the field. Whether it's for his own welfare or yours, we may never know. Perhaps it’s for both, but let's just say it’s more so for his own sanity. And the way he jumps from one joke to another only makes you question how the previous medics ever sat through it.
"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?"
"No."
"Great food. No atmosphere."
"Jesus."
"..............Hey y/n."
"Yes Soap?" You’re pretty sure this is the 45th joke he’s told you so far and now you’re just concerned for his mental well-being. But you also want to know where the hell he got all of these jokes in the first place.
"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"
Oh god. "Why?" You ask, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next.
"Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels."
Jesus fucking christ. At this point you're positive your eyes are going to pop out from your sockets from how hard you are trying to stop yourself from rolling them. "Soap-"
"Yeah?"
"Please hold still."
Alejandro on the other hand was especially quiet while you tended to his wound, a gash on the proximal part of his arm on the lateral end, just below the acromial region, left from the bullet that grazed it. If he did speak, it would be small little words of motivation, sprinkled with terms of endearment in Spanish as he told you how good of a job you were doing, which you thought to be a risky thing to do considering you were sticking a needle in his flesh to sew his wound shut. He'd even tell you short little stories about his life before here, some of which may have elicited a soft chuckle from your frowning lips, a stern look that always unconsciously formed on your face whenever you were focused on something. He finds your little look of concentration quite cute honestly, the way you'd sometimes pout and squint your eyes. But most of all, he admired how calm and collected you were at such a task, as if you were doing something as simple as stitching the seams of fabric together.
He tried his best to soothe you, seeing the strained look on your face and imagining the stress you must be under, knowing when it would be best to offer you silence so that you may focus on the work at hand. And when you were done suturing his wound and wrapping fresh gauze around his arm, he pulls you in to give you a warm hug, which catches you off guard since you’re still wearing nitrile surgical gloves spotted with his blood and practically reek of alcohol-based solutions and the bleach-like scent of antiseptics. Regardless of how you look and smell like chemicals, the man only pulls you in tighter, wrapping his uninjured arm around the top of your back with his hand squeezing the back of your shoulder as he thanks you in his native tongue.
The two of you stand there for a moment in this sort of half-embrace, Alejandro with just a single arm around you and you with your hands held out behind him with your face pressed up against his chest. Next thing you know he presses a kiss to the side of your head, which takes you even more by surprise. This man really does not care how you look or smell. You could be covered in saline solution and antibiotic ointment and he’d still think you were the most stunning woman to walk the earth.
Also, speaking of smell, Alejandro smells really good, despite the hint of gunpowder from the mission he just returned from. But to say you are obsessed with his cologne is an understatement. This man smells AMAZING. His scent is woodsy, and spicy, like tequila mixed in with cardamom and bergamot, with sharp hints of clove and peppers balancing over velvety floral notes. He smells like something out one of those cheesy racy romance novels where the romantic interest climbs up your balcony during a hot summer night to hand you a single rose before whisking you away under the stars for a night of passionate-cough cough-you know what I mean. It's almost sinful, erotic, luring you in to perform acts that would make Satan and the Pope seek counsel with each other. This sudden emotion causes this stir in the pit of your stomach, lighting your whole body in flames and you almost feel ashamed for wanting him to stay a while longer just so you can get another and longer whiff of him.
“You know chica, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good machaca." Alejandro pulls away from the embrace, looking down at you with a slight smirk.
“Why don’t you go get one?”
“Only if you agree to come along.”
You’re stunned, caught off guard, and you better come quick with a witty response or else you’re just going to look like a fool standing there blinking at him. "Are you asking me out on a date Vargas?" Wow. I haven’t heard that one before.
"Mm, maybe. There'll be good food."
Speak no more. I am bringing the church and a marriage license. “You know, now that you've mentioned it, I suppose I have been craving some spicy food for a while."
The new guy, who’s name you found to be König, was surprisingly polite, despite his intimidating size and aura. He was a bit reserved around you at first, the blues of his eyes from behind the loose fabric of his mask studying your features to try to get a sense of your character as a person. He had heard quite a lot about you from the others, mostly the way you were gentle and kind in nature. Yet he had trouble understanding how a person could be capable of providing peace, as the others explained it, but one word from your lips and a benevolent smile in his direction was enough to convince him.
Telling from his body language, you made sure to inform him about every measure you were going to perform for the procedure, wanting to ensure he was as relaxed as possible with what you were doing, something you took seriously with every one of the patients you ever had. And the more you spoke, asking him simple questions like beginning with his name and asking where he was from and what his hometown was like and how he was currently feeling, he eventually warmed up to you, partly because he thought you were really pretty, but also because you made him feel comfortable in a place he usually did not find comfort in. I mean this man is still a killing machine despite his social anxiety. Not to mention, this was the first time he had met you. So the fact that you look out for his own wellness first really puts him at ease.
The tall Austrian had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, an area that would usually require more serious care. But thanks to his bulletproof vest, the bullet was prevented from puncturing any organs or cavities or any major blood vessels or nerves, passing through his layers of skin and reaching the adipose tissue and barely imbedding into the muscle of his abdomen. You of course were able to extract the piece of metal, injecting some anesthetic for the pain and disinfecting the area beforehand before using a pair of forceps to carefully pull the bullet out.
Though the man was slightly anxious around you, he didn’t want to pry to much on your behalf and end up offending you in any manner, especially with how quiet you were, minus the little questions you’d ask him of course. Instead, he is fascinated by your steady hands and your precision, wondering how hands as small and delicate as yours were capable of performing such complex labor as he asks questions about every step that you take into the procedure and every tool that you have laid out on your table. By the end, he is completely starstruck by just how much you know. He even may have slipped a little compliment on how wise and pretty your eyes were. You’ve never heard anyone compliment your eyes as being wise, but you like it, not being able to hold back the small smile that pulls at the corner of your lips.
“Thank you for your help……..liebling.”
“It’s no problem.” You smile. You had heard that German term once before, a word once exchanged between an elderly couple that were once under your care. And the fact of knowing the meaning behind it warms your heart.
“Du hast sehr schöne kluge augen. (You have very beautiful, intelligent eyes)." The soldier mutters under his breath, nearly catching himself at the end of the sentence and praying you had not heard nor understood what he said.
“Sorry?”
“Oh um…….." König gulps, thinking of how to respond and deciding whether he should just lie or tell the truth to behind the meaning of his words. "It means you have really pretty wise eyes.”
“Oh……..why thank you. That's really sweet."
After handing König a bag containing his antibiotics, pain killers, and a tube of ointment, you also hand him a couple Dum-Dum lollipops to go with it. The Austrian doesn’t know how to react at first. Did you just give him a candy? Was this a common practice of doctors in your country? When he finally realizes this was just your way of showing kindness, he is more than delighted and thanks you for them in German, grasping both of your hands as he does so. Don’t ask me why or how but I just feel like he likes to hold both of your hands whenever he thanks you for something. Also the more eager he is, the more he shakes your hands in his.
This man’s crush on you has just went to the next level. König likes to collect whatever catches his attention, something he had done since he was a child from time mostly spent by himself. And it’s almost as if he has an eye for these things, picking out whatever has unique colors or patterns. So when you find some wildflowers or interesting looking leaves or a variety of colorful bird feathers or butterfly wings that had fallen to the dirt on your desk one day, just know he picked them out for you whenever he goes on a mission.
Believe it or not, the Austrian also has a secret talent of wood carving and is actually very skilled at it. During the days where his anxiety seems to overwhelm and suffocate him, he likes to sit outside in the grass surrounded by nature, covered in wood shavings with a knife in hand as he makes little wooden figurines of animals that he sees, whether it be birds, deer, foxes, bunnies, squirrels or skunks. It’s the only thing that he can fixate on that brings him total serenity and nirvana, sitting amongst the grass with his back up against the trunk of a tree, where there isn’t a single soul in sight except for himself and the ones that belong in the woods, where the only things that can judge him are the tall ancient trees and the creatures that walk it. But I won’t get further into this till later. Just know that he’s working on one especially for you.
Now, moving on.
By the time you were finished patching the three men up, you cleaned up the area and your tools, taking off your bloody gloves and throwing them into the biohazard container until you see Ghost stumble by in the corner of your eye. Little did you know he had been watching you from afar, not in a creepy way but in a ‘just want to make sure my teammates are alright’ kind of way. Not that he doubts your expertise of course. The lieutenant had not expected the mission to go sideways as it did, even though it was somewhat accomplished in the end. And seeing his team get wounded had unlocked this new fear in him that, to some degree, had always been there.
So when he stood there in the corner, leaning against the wall and hidden in the shadows like typical old Ghost, he found a sense of relief in watching how quickly and proficiently you moved about and just how composed you were, especially under the pace and pressure. Maybe it’s how quiet you are when you get really focused on something, maybe it’s how calm you are throughout it, or maybe it’s the amount of caution and supervision you take towards making sure the others are treated with the utmost care. Truth be told, you are like a remedy to Ghost, to the Simon Riley underneath, to the troubles and trauma that mold the broken man beneath the mask. If only the big dummy were to realize this instead of treating you like as if you were the plague itself.
When you lift your head towards the sound of slight shuffling in the corner, you catch him moving out of the shadows and sneaking away from the area. Usually you wouldn’t think anything of it, thinking he was just overseeing your work like a supervisor. But as you watch him walk off, you notice that something is off about him, something not quite right, and this intuition only builds this deep and heavy bubbling in the pit of your stomach.
“Ghost?”
Ghost stops abruptly at the sound of your voice, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side as he was not expecting you to have seen him, much less even say something.
“Is everything alright?”
Goddamn you and your manners. The masked soldier moves away with the slightest huff, not wanting to answer your question but you call out once more.
“You’re not hurt are you?”
“Negative.” He begins to walk off, not even looking in your direction to acknowledge you.
“Lieutenant, could I please see you for a minute?”
“Another time.”
“I insist.” Your voice is more firm this time and it catches him by surprise.
He had not heard this tone from you before, and yet, he can sense the shakiness behind it, the uncertainty. The more there is silence on his end, the more you are sure that you have reached the expiration date of your life, terrified that you had officially provoked the stone-cold soldier and that he is about to march over here and stab you in the neck with your own scalpel any second now. And as he stands there, debating on whether he should just leave, he hears your voice once again, a faint ‘please’. Heaving out a heavy sigh, the man shuts his eyes for a brief moment before turning back around and heading in your direction.
You’re not sure if you should freeze up like the fresh-caught fish on a bed of ice at the supermarket or run in the opposite direction as this man walks towards you, his mask not helping in making him look any less more pissed off than usual. When he finally stands in front of you, his bulky form towering over yours, you can only do the first thing that comes to mind, freeze up. At first the masked soldier glares down at you, the irises of his eyes only darkened by the grooves of his mask as he waits for you to speak, wishing you were the first to say something, anything, but instead you’re staring at him like a deer caught in front of headlights. Don’t worry babes, I would too.
“Well? Whadya want?”
“I just want to check to make sure you’re not injured-“
“I feel fine.” Ghost narrows his eyes at you, slowly becoming irked by your constant need to monitor his well-being and wishing you would just take his word and leave. But he knows better than to argue with someone that was literally tasked by the government to manage the sanity and wellness of task force 141. Was your etiquette a part of the job requirements as well?
“You don’t look fine.” You snark.
“Yeh?” Ghost sneers. “And who the hell are you to say that?”
“I’m a doctor.” You blink. “Or if you wanna be more specific, I'm technically your doctor. It’s my job. And telling from the dampness of the blood on your mask there that still has not dried since the moment you stepped trough the doors and god knows how long since before,” you point to the area near the bottom of the left side of his neck, more so near his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s yours and not someone else’s.”
“The fuck are you on about? Listen here princess, there’s no-“ Ghost pulls his hand up to his neck only to feel the exact same dampness you had just mentioned. Fuck. He had been so caught up with everything around him that he had not even been aware that he had been injured. When he finally pressed his fingers to the area there, tensing from the pain, that was when he was finally able to register through that thick and stubborn skull of his that he had in fact been injured this whole time. This man probably takes the phrase ‘mind over matter’ quite literally.
“Now can I please take a look at you?” You quirk a brow up at him, waiting for a response and knowing better than to expect a quick answer. But if there’s one thing you know, if you just slightly annoy and pester him enough, he might just eventually cave in, that is if he doesn't add you to his hit list. “Look, if you wait any longer you might pass out and go into hemorrhagic shock. And depending on the class, you can suffer from organ damage and even death. So unless you want that to happen-“
Well when you put it like that- “Fine. Get on with it.” Ghost growls as he sits himself down on the chair. Bloody fucking hell you talk way more than he had ever expected from you. But you sure can keep your ground, he'll give you that. He’s just glad that none of the others are here to see him being bossed around by someone almost half his size and about a foot shorter than him.
"Thank you for cooperating." You give a short and quick smile. You may or may not have exaggerated about the last part to get him to comply. Well…….that is.........depending on the exact location of injury and the amount of blood loss of course.
Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.
“You know……I wish you wouldn’t avoid me like I were a crackhead outside your local 7-eleven.”
A what? Ghost gives you a weird look, wondering if he had heard you correctly as you go over to the sink, rolling the white sleeves of your lab coat up and turning on the faucet. The shit that comes out of your mouth, he swears makes him question your license. Then again, he’s not sure how to respond to what you had just said. It's no lie that he has indeed been going out of his way to avoid you at all costs. But the idea of you even noticing his absence had never even crossed his mind, much so that you would come to be offended by it. Noticing your lack of pressing further on the matter, he shifts in his seat, watching you wash your hands in a methodical series of steps until he notices a small marking on your inner right wrist, a small and delicate tattoo of a heartagram. It can't be.......can it? He had never listened to much of their music but.......were you a HIM fan? If so, this is certainly a detail he had never expected from you and he almost doesn't know what to think of it. What other tattoos do you have?
Once he sees you turn off the faucet, he quickly returns to his original position on the chair, not wanting to make it seem like he was watching you.
"Now I’m just going to take a quick look here." You head over to where he sat, pulling the nitrile gloves over your hands as you look down at him, reaching out towards the bottom of his balaclava before feeling him swat your hand away.
“Hey!” You yelp, more so from being startled than the actual impact. “The hell was that for?” No way in hell he just did that.
“…………….”
"I promise I won't sneak a peak at your face if that's what you're afraid of."
“……………………..”
“Listen lieutenant. I can’t check to see if you’re okay if you won’t let me.” You sigh, reaching out once more, but this time you feel his hand grab yours, his gloved fingers wrapping around the bare skin of your wrist as he eyes the ground at his feet. The loud beating in your chest reaches your ears, deafening you as you stare at the soldier who could practically fracture your wrist if he tightened his grip. At this point most would be petrified, bracing themselves for the number of possibilities that can take place just from under his control. Most would either try not to glance over at the scalpel that lays out on the table just beside within arms reach, not wanting to instigate anything further in fear of the soldier catching the movement of their eyes, or some would dare to do so anyways as part of their fight or flight response.
Maybe you should be scared of him, of this soldier who has more blood on his hands than you can count. And yet, somehow, as you finally regain control of your thoughts after being startled from the sudden motion, you can’t seem to find yourself to. If he wanted to kill you, you’d already have been dead, you tell yourself, because here you are, well and unharmed. Despite the calloused disposition of the man notorious for his ruthlessness and merciless on the field and just the sheer size of his hand around your wrist, you’re surprised at the gentleness he handles you with, the carefulness of his hold a stark contrast to the rough fabric of his gloves that rub against the sensitive skin there.
Ghost can feel you tremble ever so slightly under his grasp, feeling your racing pulse through his gloves from under his palm, not to mention the peculiar coldness of your limb, but he can also feel the severity behind your eyes as you stare him down, as if you were just waiting for him to meet them. For a flicker of a moment, you have him wondering just how much more there is to you than the Dr. Y/n y/l/n that you put on stage only for others to see. Just what else lies beyond the pristine white lab coat, those neatly pressed scrubs and your observant orbs.
“Ghost-“ Your voice is firm but heedful. “Please let go of my wri-“
"I'll do it."
“What-“
“I said I’ll do it. You’re not touching the mask.”
“Alrigh-”
“I mean it.” He lets go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it.
"Okay." You throw your hands up in defeat, taking a step back to give him some room. "Fine by me."
Ghost can't help but huff at your behavior, hesitating for a moment before finally lifting the bottom of his balaclava, peeling away the fabric that had become sticky with blood to expose his neck. Damn you.
"Let's see here." You lean in closer to inspect the area before cursing under your breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”
Ghost side-eyes you with a raised brow at the words that came out of your mouth. Did he just hear you cuss? Better yet, just what the hell did you see to make you say those words. You almost don’t even have to hear him say anything to know what he is thinking.
“See this is why it’s important you come to me.” There’s that same strictness in your voice, and yet, this one is different. Is that a slight hint of genuine concern he hears? Realizing how you might have sounded to a man who has probably dealt with far worse, you straighten up, clearing your throat as you did so and fluttering your eyes away from his forbidding gaze. Pushing away whatever emotions that managed to rile you up like that, you clear your throat once more. “So, looks like there’s a laceration, along the inferior portion of your neck here, proximal to your acromial region. But lucky for you, your brachial plexus is still intact. The bullet, or whatever the hell you've been hit by, narrowly missed your suprascapular artery and nerve. Though I will have to perform some sutures to reconstruct your trapezius muscle."
"English, for fucks sake." Ghost grumbles at your rapid speech involving words he finds incoherent. But you and I both know it’s only because he finds it to be a turn on. That's why he let you ramble on in the first place.
"What I meant was, good news is, your nerves and blood vessels are okay. Bad news is, your trapezius muscle, which is the muscle that runs along the curve of your neck here and a portion of your back has a slight gash here at the top. So you are going to need stitches. And a lot of rest afterwards of course, to make sure it's properly healed."
"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.
"Now if you'll let me-"
"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."
What had been a short amount of time had instead felt like hours for the masked soldier, for Ghost, for the wounded Simon Riley beneath all those layers as he remained in his seat like a statue, ensuring that he stayed as still as possible while you worked on him. He had not uttered a single word during the whole duration, not even the slightest grunt. And if it hadn't been for his steady breathing, you would have presumed him to be dead. He had to be the quietest patient you have ever dealt with, not to mention the most stubborn, and you found yourself wishing he would say something, anything. But to expect such from a man such as him would be a fool's errand, a fruitless endeavor.
And even if he chose to speak, what the hell would he even talk about? His fucking trauma?The man wouldn't even look at you, his eyes wandering everywhere but your face. In spite of his grievances towards you, his reluctance to ever establish any form of association with you, he'd find himself slowly stealing glances in your direction from time to time when you weren't looking directly at him. He'd find himself studying your features as he once did the first time he met you. You were wearing that same perfume, that deep woodsy and floral perfume that reminded him of an old bookstore, of one of those metaphysical shops scattered with different fragrances of the smokey incense, the unmistakable scent of you that had been ingrained in his mind ever since.
"So, what kind of a name is Ghost anyways?"
".................."
"Right. I forget you don't speak."
Ghost gives you a quick and sharp glare before staring straight ahead. Damn that sharp tongue of yours.
"You seem tired." You remark, picking on him just a tad bit to make a reference to when he commented on your dark circles, but also because he actually did genuinely seem tired.
"............."
A cock-up, no thanks to you, Ghost thinks to himself, knowing damn well the only reason he could not sleep was because of you, though he senses the only reason you said that was because he had mentioned to you how you looked tired.
More minutes pass, and he has yet to even snide at you. You'd almost prefer a huff of irritation directed at you over nothing.
"You know," you utter, "I went to medical school with an incredibly ambitious guy who was obsessed with collecting skulls. He'd do anything to get a head."
You what? Ghost looks at you just the slightest with a single blink. What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Oh wait.
“What is a sleeping brain’s favorite rock band?”
“……………….”
Oh no. It looks like Soap’s habit has taken hold of you.
“REM.”
“……………….”
Okay maybe that was a bad idea. The look that Ghost just gave you makes you want to never say another joke again. He actually thinks the first one wasn't too bad.
“You know, you’re lucky the bullet grazed you where it did.” You lean in a bit closer as you suture his wound. “Any more to the left and you would’ve have been in some serious shit.”
Your little movement manages to catch Ghost’s attention, and if you weren’t shoving a needle through his flesh he would have moved away. Instead he glances just the slightest over in your direction, his breath hitching in his throat at the close proximity between you both. His eyes trace over the details of your face as if he were studying a map, going over every one of the little characteristics that make you you. If only you could see the way he looked at you, you would have been able to see the subtlest change, the tiniest, sliver of a crack in the hardened shell that surrounded Simon Riley, of that shell that is Ghost.
There is a moment when your thigh brushes against the side of his as you turn away to move on to the next step after stitching his wound, a moment that goes by unnoticed to you, but not to him. The small contact, though brief, had managed to send a jolt of warmth through the soldier’s body, a feeling that is completely foreign to him, prompting him to tense up and bury whatever it is that has him reacting this way. It isn’t until you sense him shift beside you that you turn back to him, gauze and ointment in hand just as you catch him transfer his line of focus somewhere else. The faint alter of movement had you raising your brow, knowing well what you saw but unsure of the motive behind it.
While you went over to him, studying whatever you could gather from his body language and just his eyes due to the obstruction of his face, you noticed that his eyes were quite expressive for a man known for lacking any basic human emotion. While dressing his wound, you picked out the way his blonde lashes fluttered against his deep mahogany irises as they focused on anything but you, the black color smeared around the exposed area of his balaclava accentuating the blondes of his hairs. This had to be the first time you had actually taken a good look at him.
You would have complimented him on his eyes and lashes, but you thought against it, not wanting to embarrass yourself, or more importantly, the last thing you needed was to dig yourself deeper on his bad side and end up as a dusty file to be brushed under the rug. Speaking of. Now that you mention it, the stuff he wore around his eyes looked awfully similar to the stuff you found on your candy tray. Couldn’t be him could it? No, it can’t possibly be. The man avoids you way too much to even think about taking something that is even associated with you. Maybe you’re just overthinking like you always do and what you found was just from your own eyeshadow palette. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally smeared remnants of eyeshadow from your fingers to other things. If only you could ask him, but this man hates you enough as it is. You could casually bring it up one day, although now definitely isn’t the time.
When you were finally finished tending to him, getting up to gather some pain relievers, antibiotics, and some ointment for him to take with him, Ghost had noticed something that he had not spotted before, a small pitted and circular mark that sat at the left side of your neck. As he stared at it, trying to decipher just what it could be, it looked to be a scar of some sort, though a bit faded with time, it’s shade slightly darker than your skin tone. Where had he seen a mark like that before? And then it hit him.
“There you go.” You came back around to hand him his treatments in a brown paper bag, your voice causing him to quickly avert his gaze. “You’re all set.”
Taking the brown paper bag from your hands, Ghost couldn’t stop thinking about what it is that he saw marking the skin of your neck. Something in the back of his mind knew just exactly what that scar belonged to, what it meant. But Ghost, or Simon Riley, knew better than to delve into something that wasn’t his business, knowing well the cost. He could just be over-analyzing it all, mistaking it for something completely different. But why was he even bothering to do so in the first place. He had better things to do, duties that were assigned specifically to him, and trying to figure out that mark on your neck wasn’t one of them.
Ghost is quick to get up from his seat as he ushers you a quick thanks, the hardened wall once again building up to the masked soldier who had dared to even let it down just the slightest around you.
“Ghost wait.” You call out to him as he walks away, watching him stop in his tracks. “……before you go………next time you’re injured………promise you’ll at least come to me.”
“….I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Look,” you sigh, “I get it if you think I’m annoying……..or if you hate my guts, whatever, I don’t care. Just….at least let me help you.”
“Don' bother.” Ghost tightens his jaw as he tilts his head towards you, the brusque in his deep voice evident before he regains his steps, disappearing from your line of sight.
“What an asshole.” You breathe out with a shake of your head. You swear this man has you testing your Hippocratic Oath. You don’t know what it is that makes him despise you. Maybe it’s just him and that’s just the way he is, something you might have to ask the others about. Usually words like that would have you lying in bed awake thinking what you did wrong, but you are much too tired for that.
As Ghost went back to his room, shutting the door behind him, he opened up the paper bag you had given him, spilling out the pill bottles and ointment tube onto the table until he heard something roll off the edge of the table and fall onto the floor. Furrowing his brows, the soldier looked at the ground at his feet to where the mysterious item had fallen only to see a single Dum-Dum lollipop, sour apple flavor. Bloody fuckin hell.
Part 4
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gece-misin-nesin · 13 days
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I hope it’s ok if I rant a little about MHA because your post about Endeavor walking free reminded me of how detrimental some of the messages MHA can be. (I’ll try not to write much, feel free to delete this tho!)
It is so frustrating how the story doesn’t linger enough on the weight killing people that have yet to commit a crime, people that are a threat to the status quo, holds.
Sometimes I legit feel insane because people will be saying things like, “He could be a threat, so of course they should kill him.” And then talk about Deku and class 1A “changing the world for the better,” when the series doesn’t care to unpack its systematic issues past individual issues + the series essentially maintained the system that failed so many—resorting to reforms and expanding programs doesn’t actually solve the problem imo.
And it’s so hard nowadays to even try to have a conversation that entails criticism of the story, when so many fans fall for the condescending righteousness the story feeds as a response just because it came from heroes. Even though the story itself presents reasons why we shouldn’t blindly trust heroes (Endeavor literally right there) 🤦
Like, the story presents characters being oppressed and the ultimate response to their plight is constantly, “Just be a better victim.” The whole situation with Touya and Endeavor + what Deku says to Touya, is absolutely insane to me.
It made me sick to see people saying, “This is what Touya always wanted.” This is what people are taking away from the story, when many people who grew up being abused and didn’t fit the “perfect victim” criteria will tell you how fucked up that ending was.
Anyway, sorry for ranting. It’s so hard to find people who understands criticism in the MHA fandom 😭 The story has a lot of good points and potential, Hori just couldn’t handle it properly.
I am ALWAYS happy to listen to bnha rants!! I devour the bnha critical tag like a wild beast lmaoo
As for your thoughts, 100% agree. I feel like a big part of the problem is that the story spends so much time setting up systematic issues and then just..drops them? Acts like they don't exist? And instead it redirects all blame and reason to indovidual problems, like Endeavor for example. Touya became a villain because of Endeavor..but the conditions under which he became a villain could have been massively prevented if the ranking system didn't exist and if so much value hadn't been placed on it. Or if the wealth and privilege that being a hero had brought to Endeavor hadn't let people turn a blind eye to his bullshit. Because are you really telling NO ONE had even an inclination that something was wrong in that household? Really?
This also applies to Tomura. In the beginning The Walk where he spent some amount of time on the streets without anyone helping him seemed very important to his backstory. He didn't become a villain just because his father was a pos, he becane a villain because the state of heroism led to a society that glorified heroes to such an extent that people didn't help a bloody kid on the street because a 'hero would'. But instead most of his memories Deku interferes w are about the Shimura household instead of the very important bystander syndrome. And THEN to top it all off, we learn the stupid 'AFO orchestrated Tomura's whole life' thing. I cannot find the right words to express just how much I loathe that.
Anyway, Touya and Tenko are just two examples. Overall, the story chooses to resolve individual problems (and how well even those are resolved is certainly debatable) and frame them as the leading causes of villainy when its mostly systemic issues that cause it and then act like there were no systemic issues in the first place. I mean, literally no one has a problem with the HPSC casually having private assassins to commit extrajudicial murder, so. Guess Nagant should have just been "optimistic" and waited for someone to, idk, topple the literal government.
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genderqueerdykes · 10 days
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I really really appreciate the posts about fat acceptance and stuff. I used to be pretty underweight but I've definitely gained weight (and muscle too I'm sure) on HRT, the way it sits/distrubuted on me is something that is hard to see sometimes and there's a lot of parental commentary about fat people that needs to be worked on.
hey, you're welcome! i'm glad you agree
gaining weight isn't always bad, in fact for many people, it can be an outright blessing. people can have a wide variety of conditions that can lead them to being chronically underweight, and putting on even a few pounds was seen as a huge accomplishment and a safety net. my best friend is this way
even if it's not required for one's health, putting on weight isn't inherently bad. every person's body has a range in which it attempts to naturally sit for their baseline weight. this will vary greatly from person to person based off of activity levels, hormone levels, genetics, individual dietary needs vs. dietary intake, digestive issues, eating disorders, allergies, food intolerance, neurodivergence, developmental disorders, and more.
the way i see it is it becomes very obvious to a person when their weight has actually come to negatively affect them. this will be marked in a decline in energy, feeling fatigued and malaise most of the time, headaches, difficulty getting out of bed, increased chronic pain including pain while standing or walking, breathing difficulties, difficulty walking/moving long distances for reasons not due to joint or connective tissue health, becoming pre/diabetic suddenly if one was not before, and/or other health complications that were not present before the amount of weight was gained
most fat, chubby, etc. people are sitting well within the healthy range for their body without realizing it. our bodies are great at telling us what they need it's just hard to listen when we're busy, exhausted, and/or neurodivergent. many people have a good idea of what their body needs but get talked or shamed out of doing what's right for them. parents, like you said, are especially uptight and strict about weight for seemingly no reason.
i've always been fat my whole life. once i reached my teen years i began to hover around the 300 lb range and that's where i've always been. my mom was fat and so was my dad, and both of their families. my mom projected so much of her fatphobia on to me it was unreal. she would critcize me any time i wanted a snack by asking "you're eating again?" and other dumb shit. children are growing and active, they need a lot of food, especially for good brain function (yes, our brains need fuel, revolutionary concept, i know)
i don't understand why parents desperately NEED their children to be physically attractive to them. can we talk about this? i know it's uncomfortable but this is a huge parental issue. i am SO tired of hearing parents go ON AND ON about how "beautiful" or "handsome" their children are. it's extremely creepy, there's no reason to focus on their appearance like that. some parents become SO distressed when their children are not conventionally attractive, as if it makes them less attractive by proxy. it's insanely creepy. a child's conventional beauty or lack there of should be of no concern to a parent- why do some parents obsess over this? it gives the child severe body image issues and it's not a good level of vanity to project on to a kid
anyway, it's okay to be fat, especially if you find you're not struggling with pain or mobility. some people will have pain and mobility issues no matter what weight they're at. everyone's different. someone's weight is their own concern and nobody else's, unless there is medical significance in which case it is between them and their medical team. not every fat person has health issues due to their weight, in fact, most do not. it's okay to let your body be the weight it wants to be
nobody should have to constantly feel like they have to be fighting their own biology just to look "more attractive". people are attractive when they look the most like their real, natural selves. it's way more flattering and it's better for the individual. don't expect other people to go through hell just to look "good". just let people be themselves. let people feel good, and feel good about themselves. worry about yourselves when it comes to appearance
anyway, thank you for the feedback, i really appreciate it! i will always be here for other fat folk because i've gone through many interesting situations with diet and health and my weight always sits around the 300 mark give or take 20 lbs in either direction. my lowest weight as an adult was 260 lbs. my highest was 360. muscle tissue plays a huge factor in this right now for me. i have clothes in my closet that range from literally Small all the way up to XXXL and they all fit me just fine. weight isn't as big of a deal as people think it is, it's a very neutral thing most of the time
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rattkachuk · 4 months
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Hello! Hope you are having a good day.
So I have a question for you, just ignore when you don't feel like answering.
I came to Mattdrai via the enemies/rivals to lovers tag and then got sucked into hockey. I really like the fanon take on Leon, fav character, fanon Matthew was fine but way too woobified and infantilized in so many fics. So my surprise when I started to watch games, interviews etc. Public Matthew is so confident, so loving, awesome family to back him up, especially Brady, hot as hell, sexy way of playing hockey, amazing public persona. Loved and respected by his team, beyond hockey.
Then Leon. His only trait seems to be that he's pissy which I can appreciate but it seems that he's just a downright mean, arrogant guy with a superiority complex (see that interview when he puts Silovs down.) I don't find him stoic at all but he's just seems boring and bland and yeah, pissy. It doesn't seem like he has fun or likes his team a lot or is liked by them (Connor aside and his skills aside.) His friendship with Connor seems the only endearing or likeable thing. He even looks good in a bland way and his hockey is while it's so skillful it's not hot and also I wonder why his dirty plays aren't called out more often.
So what do I miss? Where does great fanon Leon come from? Why is he written mostly so superior to Matthew and where comes the "his team likes Leon so much but Matthew is an outcast in his own team come from?) It's so far from what I gather from old and new interviews or games and I have watched a lot, also German interviews. I really would like to like Leon, shipping them had been more fun when I didn't find his public self so jarring. What do I not see what everyone else seems to get?
Sorry for the long ask! Have a great day and thank you
first off thank you for such a thought out ask! i don't get to dive into things like this a lot outside of writing fic and it got my brain gears going.
to get right into the bulk of this ask: i get what you are saying about leon. that can be the way he comes off for sure, and look everything i'm gonna say? i'm talking out of my ass here. i don't claim to know anything about him as a person besides what's publicly presented, and i don't have much right to theorize about why he is the way that he is, but i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it. how would i write rpf otherwise, right 💀
i think he cares a lot. and i think sometimes he gets so wrapped up in things, how things should be, how he should be performing, etc, and when it doesn't go a certain way he gets frustrated and snarky (eg, pissy comments and such). but i don't see that being bad necessarily, especially when it's seems to come from such a team oriented state of mind. which, i dont think he dislikes his team at all? i think if anything, he has a sort of blind faith in his team, and that's the only context i could see a 'superiority complex' making sense in. and yah maybe a little misplaced at times, but ultimately i think it comes from believing so fully in his team and not seeing that come to fruition. he really does not seem to care about his individual performance much at all, so how self obsessed can he be? when i think about leon i just see someone that is ultimately very passionate and committed to the game he plays. i'm also curious to know where you get the vibe that his team doesn't like him? simply because i never got that impression from any of the other oilers, they all seem like they're obsessed with him.
beyond hockey, i see a caring, sweet, kindhearted individual. anytime i see a picture or vid of him interacting with bowie, or even the things his girlfriend posts about him, the comments he leaves for people on ig, and yah of course in the way he talks/acts around connor, i see fragments of someone soooo different than the little two minute post game interviews (which, can we judge any hockey player on those? i think they all hate them dfkjgsd). it's not always something i actively go digging for or have examples of the top of my head, but i do see it, and it definitely goes into creating the version of leon that i have in my mind.
hey, and, he's a silly guy!!! please, i know the reputation is pissy and humourless, ESPECIALLY in fic, but that man is so funny. so many random offhanded comments that make me pause and then laugh. a different sense of humour but it's so there. i love the sandcastle vid from the asg last year and feel like it's a good example of that, all sunburnt and happy. also hey, big man in tune with his fear of the ocean? love that. that little vid of him dancing on the ice earlier this season, those halloween photos where he's dressed as a monkey, every time he talks to a kid. hell, seeing him in warmups and watching the way he takes time to interact fans?? loveee watching warmups but i'd never had a player actually acknowledge my existence before leon!
also i really enjoy his personality on the ice, i like the rat behaviour and the sassy comments that he makes to other players/refs, i like the bitch moves, and i like his hockey too. i think his game is dependable and like you said skillful, and while maybe not the most creative, the sureness and the technical aspect it is hot to me. so my thoughts on everything are probably skewed in that regard.
anyways this was just a whole lot of rambling about why i find him interesting, endearing even, but i understand the perception you have. i don't like some players that other people love, just cause i cant see what they see. and honestly that's sometimes just the way it is! if you don't like leon, maybe u just don't like him and thats fine.
disclaimer that i have only been on hockeyblr for a couple years, and really didn't spare many thoughts for leon til the beginning of the 22/23 season. truthfully i'm hardly the person to ask about leon imo, but of course i have thoughts anyways! if someone else with more knowledge reads my bit of rambling here, please feel free to chime in and add your voice to this!
and side note, ofc, i have to touch on this bc who would i be if i'm not one to talk about matthew; in the way of m.tkachuk, i think that in the early days of mattdrai it was maybe a fair take away during his time with the flames (minus the woobifying). even though he was loved so much here and had some fucking times, and i think the team was mostly good to him (player wise if not regarding management, that is), i see such a stark difference now that he's on the panthers. he seems much happier and more confident, and obviously he's clicking with the cats on another level, and i do see a shift in how he's been portrayed in fics since tbh.
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faeriekit · 1 month
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🥭 Rank from most enjoyable/fun to write to least: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Crack.
I can't remember which fic got me into your writing but I am really enjoying health and hybrids I think the attention to detail with language barriers is neat 😊 I feel like these options can be mixed a lot in writing would the ranking change depending on the combos?
I need you to know before anything that I had half this post penned and my computer randomly refreshed my post and burnt all of it. 💀
So. I can't. Uh. I can't do all of my fics on a scale, because of, um,
Tumblr media
that. So. I'm just going to do a straight best to worst. Sound good? Great because I have no other idea how to tackle any of this.
Fluff:
Best: Snowdrift Sanctuary. Although even my best fluff has a little bit of angst in it, this is a sweet, warm story of inter-species fostering and the care it provides. What's not to love? It was even a Phic Phight fill, so I got to surprise someone with it.
Worst: Rituals and Rites. There's nothing wrong with this one; it's a cute ask fill, it's got some great silliness in it and a little irreverence, and I'm always happy to archive my stuff on ao3 lest tumblr finally pull the plug, but I always dislike uploading individual lil' things onto ao3 when there isn't much to them. It's not bad, I just...don't have a lot of fluff to pad out this binary lol
Smut:
Best: Lazy Sunday. By the time I got to this one I'd largely already hit my stride writing smut stuff, I liked how this couple gelled (and even have a few as-yet-unwritten scenes of their relationship I may never get around to!) and I like the couple as they are: weird and complicated and persevering into a yet-unseen realm of intimacy! I'm also not super into the kink in question, so it was super nice to see the piece well received by people who are into it and thought it worked well lol. How sad would it be if you tried to write a niche kink and it ended up completely flopping lmao T_T I'd never show my face in this town again.
Worst: A Visitation. Do not get me wrong, I love this fic, but you gotta remember that I wrote the first chapter completely exhausted and out of my gourd with fucking cauvid. 😭 I'm shocked it came out coherent at all! And everyone helped me workshop the last chapter, and it took forever to the point where I was writing like thousands of words a day and it was eating up my whole life...and sometimes I still go back in to reread it and I find MORE errors! 😭😭 This fic had all the birthing pains! Worth it, but OW!
Angst:
Best: Dig Three Graves In Apartment 31C. I rreeeeeeally almost put Hybrids here, but in the end, Hybrids is a hopeful recovery fic. This fic is all grief and loss and the stench of the aftermath of acute trauma in the air. It is sad— sometimes I still get comments shocked at how well it worked lol— and although the excruciatingly tough epilogue yon author had to write lifts it a little, it's not... There's no cure for this. Everyone in this picture is dead. That's just the way it is.
Worst: Feet on the Ground. A similar deal: I really like this fic but there wasn't a great ending line to close on so it's just...mediocre. I probably should have just waited to see if time would fix it, but it was a Phic Phight fill and we're kind of on a timer during the event, and I wanted to get it out so I could start working on other people's asks, so... 6/10. Fascinating concept, mid execution.
Crack:
Best: Infection versus Infestation. It was either this or one of the MPreg fills lmao, and I just. There's just so much going on here. The support network. The mental health. The powerpoint presentations. Bees. Medical pamphlets. Aliens. QPRs. Maybe the real fic is in the groupchats you made along the way. No notes hands down my one true rec for weird fics; all the way up and all the way down, it's inherently GenderFucked and surreal and young idiot adult bullshit. I love them your honor.
Worst: Percy Jackson, God of the Shrimps. A discord in-joke never makes sense as a discord out-joke. I am astounded people read this to this very day. I make it worse every time I even mention it in a post, but hey, that's showbiz. If you read this and actually found something there, more power to you. If you read this and were like "???"...yeah lmao
I'm glad you're liking health and hybrids so far! It's so funny to think that Hybrids used to be my downtime fic to recover from my other fics lmao...now it's beating Blister Pack to the tune of an additional 100,000 hits. I genuinely can't even conceptualize that number in my head. It's a such a bonkers concept that so many people could be glancing at a medical trauma fic from lil' ol' me. High school Faer who took anatomy classes for fun would be ecstatic. In the end, I tried to get a couple of unique fics to fill each category just because I like them so much. Sue me. It's my fic and sometimes I wanna talk about them with people lol.
Thanks for asking! 🧡🧡🧡🧡 This was fun!
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major-comet · 1 month
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The Best Red vs Blue Watch Order Guide Ever. Of All Time.
So. You want to watch Red vs Blue, huh? Maybe you read my long post about how it's so weirdly incredible yet impossible to recommend and now you want to give it a shot. Or maybe you have seen the show before, but it's been a long time and/or you didn't watch any of the mini-series or anything and want to give it another go. Either way, looking at a show with a 21 year history is kind of daunting, and you have no idea where to start.
Well luckily for you, I've done the work for you.
This watch guide will cover all 19 seasons of the main show, most of the mini-series, and some of the PSA's and other such bonus content. There will be links provided for where you can watch everything I talk about. This Google Drive (from reddit u/Exitity, unsure if they also have a tumblr) has all of the individual episode uploads, and most of the stuff I'm going to be talking about, although I'm trying to use YouTube links wherever I can. Any links will be colored in light blue for additional visibility.
Couple of quick things before we begin.
When possible, watch the individual episode uploads rather than the "complete" editions. The "Completes", while they may provide a more streamlined viewing experience by cutting out all of the bumpers and outros and such, accomplish this by cutting out a lot of jokes. RvB has a lot of jokes that happen during the fade to black at the end of an episode, and a lot of those get lost in the edits. There's also some things that just straight up get cut for seemingly no reason. Side note, the DvD/Blu-Ray versions seem perfectly fine, and honestly are even better to watch than the individual episodes if you have them. They're like a best of both worlds - adding some extra music and such (ESPECIALLY in the first 5 seasons) that really helps make a nice presentation of the show. If that's an option available to you, I recommend it. Otherwise, stick with the individual episodes.
At the end of each entry in the list, I may present a Side Quest section. This will include anything I feel you should watch that isn't necessarily canon, but helps add some extra life to the series. This may include some behind the scenes stuff or a selection of the PSA's and the non-canon mini-series. This stuff can be really great for building out the characters in a way that doesn't necessarily affect the greater story, and can especially be good for interactions between characters that maybe don't interact much in the main show. Anything I put in a Side Quest is strictly optional, but will add to your viewing experience. Obviously, there's a lot more bonus material than what I'm putting here. I'm just putting down some of the highlights. And if you end up liking the PSAs and such then just know: there's so much more for you to explore.
Early RvB is very much a product of it's time, and sometimes you'll get hit with a line that stops you dead in your tracks. Adult-oriented comedies can always be a minefield, and RVB's roots as a show made for Halo fans in 2003 definitely don't help. However, while this is the most common in the first five seasons, it never really stops being an issue. The purpose of this guide is simply for watch order, but if you have any specific trigger-related questions about any season of rvb please feel free to shoot me an ask or even a DM - i'm more than happy to help.
Okay, let's begin, breaking it down by arc.
The Blood Gulch Chronicles
You may hear people telling you to skip the first five seasons of the show and just pick up with Season 6. Those people are lying to you and do not have your best interests at heart. The first five seasons are pretty much strictly comedy, and from Season 6 onward the show starts to explore deeper themes and stories while still falling back on that comedic foundation. Skipping straight to the deeper stuff doesn't work very well IMO, because those five seasons are spent getting to know the characters we're going to be following for the rest of the show. The stuff that happens in Blood Gulch never stops being important - whether it's side characters showing back up again later on, or laying the foundation for a lot of the moments and story lines that make some of the later seasons so special.
Anyways, the watch order.
Season 1
Season 2
Season 3
Season 4
Out of Mind - Mini-series
Season 5
Blood Gulch Side Quests
Tattoo Point/Counterpoint - Season 1 PSA
A Message to the Science Community - Season 2 PSA
Real Life VS. The Internet - Season 2 PSA
All of the deleted scenes, honestly, but This One in particular because asphodel and I quote it all the time.
The Outtakes/Bloopers - I'm not gonna put the link for these and the deleted scenes for every arc, but just know that you should watch them after every season/arc. There's some great stuff in there.
The Season 5 Alternate Endings
Either watch it Now, or after you watch the finale, but I highly recommend the 2003 Season 1 DVD Commentary. It's just Burnie (Church/Lopez/Vic) and Geoff (Grif), and it's really nice.
If you've ever watched any behind the scenes stuff for RvB or even rooster teeth as a whole, you have almost certainly seen This Clip, which is a behind the scenes of the voice recording for Grif and Simmons' lines in episode 1.
The Recollection
Recovery One - Mini-series
Season 6 - Reconstruction
Relocated - Mini-series
Season 7 - Recreation
Season 8 - Revelation
Recollection Side Quests
First! - Season 6 PSA
Small Rewards - Season 6 PSA
Rock the Vote and Rock the Veto - PSAs made to encourage RvB viewers to register to vote. Which at the time you could do on your xbox 360. These are here mostly as a "wtf" historical piece.
Halo-Ween - Season 7 PSA
Valentine's Day - Season 7 PSA
Fire Safety: Where There's Smoke... - Season 7 PSA. genuinely one of the best.
Holiday Plans - Mini-series
The Reach PSA series - Three parts total, only part one is linked.
Project Freelancer Saga
Season 9
Technically there's two mini-series that take place during Season 9 - being M.I.A. and Where There's a Will, There's a Wall. I really love them, and would recommend watching them after S9, but if you really want to roll into S10 you won't miss much. Weirdly there's a place later on that would be a great spot to circle back to these, but I'll save that for later.
Season 10
Project Freelancer Side Quests
This is a great spot to circle back to older side quests you may have skipped, btw.
The Season 10 Table Read BTS - Season 10 was the first time they ever did a full cast table read for the show, and it's cool to see a few snippets from it and hear the crew talk about it.
Matt Hullum Talks to Himself - watch this after M.I.A. it's a live table read of part of the script, with a focus on a conversation between Sarge and Doc (who have the same voice actor)
This 10 Year Retrospective that was put out around Season 10. Watching it now, knowing that they were about halfway through the lifespan of the show / company gives it a whole new perspective.
RT Oz - PSA
Remember Not to Forget and Voting Fever - PSAs made to promote the launch of Halo 4. Voting Fever is one of the Best Ever (and listen to the full version of That's How Voting Works afterwards!)
This Interview between Burnie and Trocadero talking about the music the band has done for the show. This playlist also has a bunch of other behind the scenes and other such bonus stuff from the DVDs and Blu-Rays, it's great to keep around.
The Chorus Trilogy
Season 11
The Chorus Journal Entries - Only three have fully machinimated versions, the last one is just the log entry. Bridges the gap between 11 and 12
Season 12
Season 13
Chorus Trilogy Side Quests
#1 Movie in the Galaxy - PSA
Getting Away From it All - PSA
#1 Movie in the Galaxy: 2 - PSA
Uh. I think the RvB Holiday Special goes here
Matt Hullum (Sarge) reading an excerpt from 50 Shades of Gray at a book signing.
Season 14 - Anthology
I get it: not everyone loves the Anthology format. I truly do recommend watching all of it at least once - or if you haven't in a long time. My only Side Quests are to say that this is the perfect time to go back to M.I.A. and WTAWTAW if you skipped them after season 9, and that if you skipped the #1 Movie In the Galaxy PSAs during Chorus, watch them now before the third one, which is in this season.
The Shisno Trilogy (seasons 15, 16, and 17)
Season 15
Season 16 - The Shisno Paradox
Season 17 - Singularity
Shisno Side Quests (this is taken from our survey data because it's been so long since I've watched much of any shisno-related stuff)
Hard Truths - PSA
Diversity - PSA
Cultural Appreciation - PSA
Lopez's Technical Guide to Empathy - PSA
Unreal Estate - PSA
Caboose's Guide to Finding Your Home - sequel to the Guide to Making Friends from season 14
RvB: Zero + Family Shatters
okay so here's the deal. If by this point, you're really just interested in the characters you've been watching for the past 17 seasons and not so much the story or anything - you may not get much from watching Zero. I do think it's interesting to watch, if only because I think it's got a lot of missed potential. Zero is not served well by being a season of RvB, I think I would have liked it a lot more if it were stand-alone, though that doesn't fix all of my issues with it. If you wanna jump straight to the series finale, you absolutely can. It's a pretty short watch, though, and I've heard that Family Shatters was better. I'll watch that one at some point.
Zero
Family Shatters - spinoff
Restoration
This is it! The series finale.
I'm not doing this with an other season (though I do recommend going back and watching all the teasers and trailers at some point), but before you watch the finale you should watch The First Trailer For It. I think it sets up the season really well, and helps make some of the rushed set-up exposition in Restoration make a little bit more sense. honestly this should just be considered the first scene of the finale. Then watch the finale, and then you are done with all of the main show of Red VS Blue. Go forth, and be free.
Final Side Quest
I'm putting anything that came out in the nebulous time between Zero and the finale in here. I'll come back and edit this once we find out what on earth is going to be on the Blu-Ray.
Offensive Driving
First Person Tutor
Moving Out
The Video RT Made to Announce Master Chief and Blood Gulch Were Coming To Fortnite. This played at the game awards and my soul almost left my body
This is also where I'll put QvsA, which is the Grimmons mini-series, though I haven't actually watched it myself yet. They're all on youtube.
My all-time favorite RvB fan edit - doesn't actually have any clips post-anthology, but I think the end is a great time to watch it.
If none of this makes sense, or you just have any questions at all - I am More than happy to help answer your queries. I hope this helps :) Also if any of the links are broken please let me know.
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darkonekrisrewrite · 1 year
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The Villains (specifically the Lov) Are Right
Especially about the civilians in Bnha
(2 Part Meta Civilians and Lov) (Warning spoilers and long Meta Post) (Permission given to re-blog)
The Lov, specifically the core League of Villains, don’t owe any consideration, atonement or apologies to the civilians in Bnha. Because since long before the Lov had even become villains, even when they were still children, the civilians decided that they don’t owe them anything at all.
Most people I’ve seen in the fandom say something like “I don’t justify or excuse the villain’s actions.”, when it comes to the destructive/murderous parts of the villain’s deeds, which is very nice and moral of them to say.
But as long as we’re talking about the average Bnha civilian, I definitely justify/excuse the Lov’s actions.
Because the “innocent” people in Bnha are awful.
Part 1 The Civilians
That’s not even an opinion really but rather a fact that’s been presented to us clearly, over and over again, in Bnha’s story.
That’s partially why I believe that, even at their worst, the Lov are still worth more than most of the civilians that we’ve been shown so far.
See Past the Labels
“Heroes”, “Villains”, “Innocent People”. All labels that are used frequently over the course of Bnha, but seeing past these, looking beyond what we’re told by the story and instead seeing what we are shown by the story, that’s where the truth is in what these characters are and the effects their actions have on each other.
In Hero stories, saving the innocent/civilians is pretty much a guarantee at any point in time, it’s a prerequisite.
Where in most of those fiction, the civilians (or any large social group of innocents) are shown to definitely be people that should be saved, that it would be a tragedy if even some of them died, no matter the numbers.
But that’s not the case here, because the civilians in bnha aren’t like what you’d normally find in a hero tale, so much so that they’re nearly incomparable to any other series’ “Innocents”.
Looking at them as a whole, they’re more like what you’d find in a horror story.
Starting with one of the largest by the numbers examples:
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They’re personifications of the bystander effect/syndrome, taken to the highest degree.
A truth that’s sometimes overlooked is that, while All for One and the Shimura family played a part in making Tenko Shimura the Tomura Shigaraki that he is today, so did all the civilians above. If even a single one of them had tried to help the child that would become the most dangerous villain, no matter how that would have turned out, the person Shigaraki is now would be different, maybe entirely.
Even just one true attempt to aid the scary looking child, instead of leaving it to the heroes who weren’t there, would have made a lasting impact. Just like the civilians choosing not to lift a finger to help left a lasting impact on Shigaraki in the present.
They condemn people for things that aren’t their fault, even when the individual hasn’t done anything wrong:
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These are pretty self-explanatory in the point, but these aren’t just examples of ‘bad luck’, they showcase a callous legal system and civilians willing to throw a 16 year old kid under the bus for something that was in no way his ‘stumble’ or fault.
(First Side Point: Twice didn’t turn to a life of villainy because it was his “choice”. There’s been zero evidence of any social help for victims of hero society’s circumstances, so there’s no reason to assume that Twice had any help in supporting himself after his parents died. Twice then getting fired from his low level Job and having a glaring blemish on his record (as shown above ^) was a death sentence for a normal life right then and there, especially considering the setting in hero society (Japanese culture taken to its most socially merciless), it doesn’t really need to be spelled out any more than that why he turned to a life of crime against a society that screwed him over at every level and left him to rot. Between becoming a tragic statistic that the hero state didn’t (and still doesn’t) care about or becoming a villain for the chance at having some kind of life, it’s not really a choice at all. The saying ‘Cool motive still Murder’ comes up sometimes when taking about specific villains in Bnha and my response to that would be: ‘Then Suffer and Die Nobly.’ There is no ‘being better’ because if they were better in their current circumstances, they’d just quickly become a statistic.)
They’d rather someone, even their own children; suffer in silence than be seen as anything but their “normal”:
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Toga’s parents might seem like a more ‘personal’ point but they’re actually a prime example of the standard bnha civilian, caring nothing about their own suffering young and only about their own lives and normalcy. Even when Toga was obviously self-harming due to her quirk, something that couldn’t logically have been hidden from them, there was no real attempts to help her with this other than rejection (as evident by the parents stopping taking her height down on the wall when her quirk presumably manifested, clearly meant to be a hint that it was the point that they stopped caring about her) and sending her to “Quirk Counseling”, taking no responsibility in helping their child and taking none after Toga was broken under the weight of what was normal after struggling to hold back for so many years.
This mentality extends past Toga’s parents to most of bnha’s civilians.
When Dabi revealed himself as Toya and exposed the Todoroki family’s past the world, nobody cared. At least not in any way that could be considered ‘caring’.
Endeavor bought and bred his wife, and it’s very debatable whether or not the later ‘child making’ could be considered consensual.
Rei told endeavor that it was “too much” and “too cruel”, all but saying that she didn’t want to have any more children, and in the anime it’s played even more clearly:
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This ^ does not seem like consent.
Also letting his first born son burn himself to his apparent death because he couldn’t be bothered to care enough to prevent it.
Endeavor knew Toya was burning himself and he never got him any psychiatric help, even though Toya was already having extreme signs of mental breaks alongside the burning, he never even thought about it.
Even if this failed in stopping Toya, Endeavor just could have pulled some strings as the number 2 hero and gotten Toya Hero tech/equipment/suits, anything that might have helped.
But all Endeavor did was tell Toya to stop and do “other things” and when that failed he simply ignored him, even though he knew his child was literally burning himself.
(Endeavor could be considered an unreliable narrator, I think other great Meta writers have already called him on that, with him telling Natsuo that he never meant to neglect any of his children, which is evident (by how he treated Toya) as complete Bullshit.)
Now do the civilians know all of this down to a T?
No, but even before the Dabi reveal there was more than enough sketchy events surrounding Endeavor to raise eyebrows on anyone paying attention.
A son burning to death alone on a mountain, another son getting a burn scar on his face and a wife in a Mental Hospital, more than a little suspicious. Nobody ever looked into it.
And after the Dabi reveal, after Endeavor confirmed what Dabi said to everyone, this is the only Civilian backlash he gets:
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Nobody cared what happened to the Todoroki family; they only cared about how it affected them. The first half of that anger wasn’t even about the Todoroki drama.
And while the mention of Dabi’s victims and their families might seem like consideration, paired alongside everything else the bnha civilians are/do, I really doubt that the line comes from a genuine place of sympathy.
They have no loyalty to their best Heroes:
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After everything Deku did for them, they wouldn’t risk a single thing for him. Most of them don’t even look anxious or afraid, just angry at their lives being disrupted.
Telling the kid who nearly worked himself to death, fighting so that they could have their lives back to piss off, while danger sense was being activated implying that they did mean him very real harm.
 Another big point against the Civilians that’s brought up a lot:
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They’re violently racist. (Quirk-ist? Anti-Mutant? Basically against anyone very different in their appearance and/or their quirks.)
Mutants are an obvious Allegory for the racism/minority angle of the story, and it never casts the majority of the civilians in a positive light when it’s touched upon.
(Second Side point: Revisiting the end of ‘Side Point One’ because it pairs perfectly here, Shoji Mezo’s “Answer” to the horrible treatment the Heteromorph/mutants face is the opposite of that, and by that I mean Shoji’s answer is pretty much: Aspects of Uncle Tom’s Cabin Syndrome (an American theory/term but a Universal Theme) mixed with the acceptance of hero martyrdom.
His words to the Heteromorphs are this: “Let’s use that light to change the people who hurt us. So that they’ll feel ashamed to ever raise their fists against us again.”
Very inspiring…or at least it would be, were his words not disproven by his own backstory. 
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Shoji got his Scars ^ after he saved the little girl, in fact him saving her life was literally the cause of it.
There is no greater way to Shine or be heroic than doing what Shoji did, saving the life of a small child from drowning to death, and for that act the “Innocent People” gave him the Joker facial treatment.
Seriously if there’s a group of people who “don’t deserve to be saved” in Bnha; it is civilians like this.
Yet Shoji’s answer is still to “Be better than mere Avengers” and if they don’t the Heteromorph’s “Children will become the next Target!” as if they weren’t already??
None of it makes sense when looking at the whole picture and it’s clearly not a great plan, to draw another American based parallel that fits too well not to be noticed despite it being American; Shoji Mezo is basically Sturdy Harris from the Boondocks TV Series (freedom ride or die episode).
Look up the character’s wiki info or watch the episode, the fact that Shoji is willing to use violence in some extreme instances might seem a difference between them but the fact that he urges the other Heteromorphs to “be better than avengers” and “use their light to change the people who hurt us until they feel ashamed”, giving no thought as to whether or not his fellow Heteromorphs could even survive living by that standard like he can, fits the comparison to a T.)
Back to the final few points about the Bnha Civilians:
Are the Civilians in Bnha conditioned to be this way, products of influence and circumstance much like the heroes and villains are?
Kind of but not really.
While it is true that there are mountains of propaganda in hero society, there’s nothing specific enough to point to and say that this is why the Bnha civilians are this level of callous. They’re conditioned to love heroes and fear the violent villains they’re fighting, not to ignore the suffering of children (even their own) completely, and they’re definitely not compelled through propaganda to reject them or scar them, nothing in the series is evident of that.
And even worse, all of these examples of the people’s flaws/incidents (excluding the Ordinary Woman Heteromorph) happened during Allmight’s “Era of Peace”, so there’s no shifting the blame onto the villain’s current actions and even less excuse for things like these to be happening.
Why should the Bnha civilians have peace or justice if they’re like this?
If they show no more empathy or loyalty than the worst, most unsympathetic villains in the series (Like AFO) then maybe their point of view shouldn’t be considered any more than his. (And even AFO had some truth in his points: Failed social framework and the Quirk Singularity.)
To draw one final example for the Civilians with another Manga series that has pretty awful ‘ordinary people’ in it: Naruto.
But even in Naruto, the Author still showed that there were good people among the Civs. Population that weren’t like that and that did deserve to be protected and live peaceful lives, people who were outside of the Ninja system and just genuinely humane.
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Before Naruto became a hero who saved the village multiple times, before he was even a ninja, they treated him like the human child he was.
These characters deserve their own Meta, other Naruto fans have probably written them already.
But suffice to say that the people who treated right the abandoned and hated child, host to a demon Fox that could casually level mountains, Teuchi Ramen (Owner and Daughter), are an excellent example of giving narrative motivation to “protect the people”.
There’s not much of anything like that in Bnha’s story, not anyone to point at and say; “They are worth saving/protecting!” and having it actually be true instead of just ‘What the hero is supposed to say’.
 And if anyone disagrees with this, I’ll ask: Can one instance of goodwill be pointed to for the Bnha civilians? Any act of compassion, bravery or selflessness from someone in Bnha who wasn’t in anyway associated with heroes?
And no, the Civilians letting Deku stay at UA does not count.
It wasn’t even framed as selfless or compassionate anyway:
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This ^ is a deal more than anything else.
Because the heroes (Deku) swore they’d fix things and the people practically made him swear it before they were let in.
Kota and the Ordinary Woman running to stand by Deku was a sweet and great moment but considering that he saved them first, it seemed more like a ‘returning the Favor’ sentiment. Same with the rogue Civillian group helping Shindo after he fought Muscular, more a give it back than a gift.
 Part 2 The Lov
Even at their worst, the Lov still display humanity and redeeming qualities more than most of the civilians.
And I believe that this is 100% truth because Actions/Dialogue without reason for deception and inner thoughts, imply genuine Truth.
Actions:
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This ^ scene is referred back to a lot because it’s a good showing of Compassion/Bonds, one of the first really, in the League of Villains, in Toga saving Twice from ‘coming apart’.
Toga has no real reason to comfort Twice as much as she does in this series, in this first instance and in later ones, because aside from one time (no matter how cool and heartfelt it was) in MVA when Twice saves her and the rest of the League, Twice kind of messed things up more than a few times for the Lov.
Bringing Overhaul to meet the Lov without precaution resulting in the death of Magne (even though she herself rushed in recklessly), Twice’s personal hang-ups limiting his Quirk lessening his value to operations overall (from a purely strategic standpoint), and trusting Hawks (because he felt bad for him) so much he gave out Info that definitely shouldn’t have been given.
Yet despite having one singular success in MVA that Twice really pulled through among many other shortcomings, Toga still cared about him. Enough to try to help him hold himself together during the Overhaul business and then later go on a violent, rage filled assault toward the Heroes during the MLA raid after Twice was killed, giving little thought to her own safety.
Dialogue without reason for deception:
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While Shigaraki is definitely an unreliable narrator, as evident by the monologue ^ in the bottom panel clearly contradicting what actually happened during the death of his family, the middle panel where he states that he only wants “Them” (definitely the Lov) to live as they see fit seems like the truth.
Because why would Shigaraki lie here? In this time or place to Redestro, someone he presently had no reason to manipulate, as they were in a life or death fight?
Shigaraki couldn’t have known Redestro would surrender, at this point he was talking to someone he fully intended to kill, further dissipating any suspect of manipulation.
Shigaraki does care about his comrades, their wishes and while he hasn’t really kept the promise he made as of current Bnha, I think that’s a result of All for One scrambling his Brain so much during the Mental Fusion stuff, the true Shigaraki barely seeming to know what’s going on half the time and only able to think about his past.
Twice and Spinner: Basically everything about them.
They might not think things through that much, but there’s no doubt that Twice and Spinner were and still are devoted to who they care about, true loyalty in all its successes and faults.
Inner Thoughts:
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Dabi is…kind of a dick most of the time, even to the Lov, just to a much lesser extent than to everyone else.
It makes sense that he’d act that way though, given what he’s been through and the end goal of his plans, it’s understandable why he’d want to push everyone away in some form and not let them get too close.
But even underneath all of that, Dabi much like the rest of the core Lov never blamed Twice for his mistakes, and since this is an inner thought and thus having no reason for manipulation, it does imply that this is his honest truth.
Knowing that Twice would blame himself, although he never said it out loud, maybe he couldn’t with all of his own personal hang-ups, Dabi inside probably did want to reassure Twice that none of this was his fault.
The Core Lov do have empathy towards others abandoned and hurt by Hero Society like themselves, and they do care about each other, that is as much as they’re able to care about each other while being weighed on by their own individual issues.
 The hero kid’s parents
Lastly for this Meta, there are parts of Hero Society that shouldn’t ever be destroyed, but they fall into small groups and come with their own faults.
The Hero Kid’s parents shouldn’t be destroyed just by virtue of being so close to the better/more heroic characters, but even they aren’t that great with possibly one exception.
Inko Midoriya has technically tried to protect Izuku but she never really helped him. She basically apologies for his existence in the childhood flashback, and until Izuku got a Quirk and became a Hero, she was never really shown to encourage him in anything, even to find happiness in other things.
Despite having doubts herself about saying the wrong thing to her son, Inko later tries to keep him from going back to UA for very good reason from a parent’s point of view.
But then she’s pretty easily convinced by a promise from Allmight, that wasn’t in anyway kept. Cut to the Dark Deku stuff later, she never calls Allmight out on this.
It’s the same story with little difference for all the student’s parents, they’ve never been shown to try to protect their children, especially at the UA confrontation with the Civilian Mob.
Inko, Bakugo’s parents, Ochako’s parents, and I’m just assuming the rest of them to cause it makes sense for them to be at the UA shelter, none of them helped.
I know Inko was being held back by Mitsuki because it was dangerous, but couldn’t she have shaken her off?
Kota did and ran to Deku to try to help him, and he was a little kid being held back Pixiebob (a Hero).
That probably wasn’t what Hori was going for or implying but that’s what happened.
Is this an illogical thought process that would be dangerous or harmful for the parents? Definitely.
But that’s the point. The parental instinct that goes beyond self-preservation and logic to protect their children hasn’t been shown for any of them.
Except one.
*Current Spoiler Warning*
 Rei Todoroki in the recent chapter stands apart and above in this aspect, although this depends very much on how it’s framed going forward.
A mother fighting to stop her child from killing himself more than trying to stop a Villain from killing. Both true but one has to take front over the other for it to be meaningful, for Rei to show that she will stop Touya from burning himself this time, unlike how she wouldn’t before.
That’s character development, that’s parental instinct.
*Very current Spoilers*
 Rei is there for Touya  :)  trying to save her son…and also Endeavor maybe?
Close enough (Double Thumbs UP!)
 The children
Another group that definitely should never destroyed is the Young Children of Bnha, Kota, Eri, the work studies Kid group.
I put them into a separate category than the whole of the Civilians but it would take a lot to explain why that is and why they can be viewed as their own separate group, so I’ll put it in the next Meta and expand on how they relate to the existential parts of Bnha.
Also same for the villains/heroes and finally getting to the Quirk Singularity Theory.
To be Continued…
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goetiae · 1 year
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In the Green Witch arc, Sebastian presents a rather interesting book to Sieglinde when she requests to have something to read. The book is called The Family Physician, and it is in fact replicating a real medicinal work of the Victorian era.
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The Family Physician: A Manual Of Domestic Medicine was published in London, England, by Cassell & Company in the year 1883. It is one of many books of this kind as at the time family manuals of medicine were becoming more and more popular. Of course, books were still rather expensive to print and were majorly available to the rich. As many were living in estates outside of the city centers and some traveled abroad, physicians were not always readily available. With that, more and more rich Victorians would rather have a book of medicinal remedies at home to "replace" a visit from a doctor.
The book Sebastian is showing in the arc is one of the later editions by the physicians of the London hospitals. The special edition Family Physician featured in the manga consists of four volumes and includes a diverse list of treatments for many types of illnesses.
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Now, Yana does include two supposed remedies used in that book but only one of them is found on the pages: opium tincture. Laudanum was prescribed for various illnesses. As for the bacon, it is a real medical practice of the Victorian era but one recorded in The Successful Housekeeper (1888), not in this manual.
Sebastian has previously stated that he would get familiar with the medicinal treatment options of the time to assist Ciel with his health problems. We can safely assume that this handbook manual is used by him rather often to help young Lord during his various instances of sickness.
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This book consists of multiple categories of illnesses that would take a long time to cover fully, but here are those that Ciel canonically either goes through or is likely to go through due to his known chronic condition (asthma):
Night Terrors
Asthma
Cold
Cough
Fever
The sort of treatment that Sebastian would put Ciel through, were he to truly follow the book, is bizarre.
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Do not follow these instructions. They are highly outdated and do not follow any medical requirements. Herbs, plants, and chemicals mentioned in this post are highly toxic and should not be ingested or inhaled.
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Night Terrors
Night terrors are recognized by Victorians as recurrent and relatively safe, as they are "rarely precursors of fits or epilepsy", though they may be hard to handle, especially in younger children.
In case that a Victorian child was suffering from nightmares, or night terrors as they equated the two, physicians recommended rhubarb and soda also known as Gregory's powder. Combined with a light and digestible meal, this mixture, which is currently regarded as a laxative, was to ensure that the sleep of the child is undisturbed through the night.
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Asthma
During the Victorian era, asthma was not recognized as an obstructive disease of lungs, but rather as a neurological condition. Physicians of the time were seemingly very well-aware that asthma was a difficult and longterm condition even if they did not precisely understand its nature; sometimes referring to it as psychosomatic.
Within the treatments that Ciel would have realistically gotten were he, as a Victorian child, to have the kind of asthma attacks that he has had in the manga are:
I. Tobacco, which was believed to relieve paroxysms - sudden asthma attacks. The book Sebastian has provided us with says that tobacco would be especially beneficial for non-smokers who have not established tolerance to cigarettes, pipes, and cigars. Even though individuals who used this method would grow "pallid" and "damp with prespiration" after the process, their asthma attack would be "prevented". It is possible to assume that with the repeated, consistent smoking pattern Victorian asthmatics tried to balance out their breathing rhythm.
II. Lobelia inflata, also known as puke weed, is another type of tobacco recommended for asthma, though this time it is to be consumed by ingestion in a form of a tincture mixed with water. It was believed that this tobacco helped with asthma "related to indigestion". The book does state that its authors are unsure whether the plant is very effective as some patients have fallen sick after the use; which is no surprise to the modern reader as lobelia inflata has been discovered to be a toxic plant.
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III. Stramonium, also known as thorn-apple, is a kind of medicine recommended by the Victorian physicians when smoking tobacco was not enough. The leaves of the plant, which is highly toxic due to multiple alkaloids within it, would be crushed and smoked. Smoking stramonium before sleep for prophylactic reasons or at the beginning of an asthma attack was generally considered an effective treatment that worked "like magic".
IV. Cigares de Joy, "anti-asthma" cigarettes created by a Frenchman, are highly regarded by the authors of the book. Like many other medicinal treatments of the Victorian era, they were, of course, bad for your health as they contained stramonium and arsenic.
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V. Coffee is probably the only non-toxic method of treating asthma that Victorian doctors suggest. However, even with coffee one can't hope to have much satisfaction from the treatment: it is to be given very hot, black (pure cafe noir), without any milk, and on an empty stomach in small quantities. Bigger dosages are advised against while taking coffee with a meal is cosidered to be a cause of asthma attacks.
VI. Nitre-papers are, practically, papers with potassium nitrate. The papers were meant to be burned so the fumes fill the room. The chemical compound of nitre-papers is an irritant and causes damage to the lungs, though Victorian doctors describe multiple cases of children and adults alike "peacefully" falling asleep around ten minutes into the paper burning. The latter is probably no surprise as potassium nitrate fumes have an adverse effect on the human body, causing nausea and dizziness.
VII. Nitrite of amyl is one more nitric chemical compound that is recommended by the Victorian doctors to inhale in order to treat asthma. Now, this chemical is highly toxic in all forms and especially so in direct inhalation and ingestion; it can cause blindness, brain damage, lung scarring, and death.
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VIII. Chloroform is yet another questionable way of managing asthma in the Victorian era. While the authors of the book can be given credit for mentioning that overdoing chloroform is never the aim, and even provide a story of a man who died doing so, they do still praise the method greatly. According to the manual, chloroform is to be applied in a few drops on a handkerchief one can press to the nose and inhale through. It is rather clear here that Victorians truly did see asthma as a disturbance within the nervous system and provided methods of sedating the patient.
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IX. Ipecacuanha, an imported plant native to Brazil, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Panama, and Colombia, is a remedy that the authors seem rather perplexed about. They do recommend it as an effective method of asthma treatment but they do not specify how it is to be applied. We are left wondering how exactly Victorians used this plant. Ipecacuanha, or ipecac as it is known within the medical field now, is highly toxic in all its forms and is especially dangerous to ingest. Brain damage and organ failure are only some side effects of ignoring safety precautions.
X. Potassium iodide is a medication recommended for ingesting directly in the amount of two tablespoons three times a day. Praised for postponing or even fully stopping asthma attacks, this medicinal treatment was highly regarded by the Victorian doctors. It is worth mentioning that potassium iodide has adverse side effects and is an allergen for many people. However, it is a recognized medical supplement that should be taken only, if ever, upon doctor's prescription.
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Cold
Victorians recognized that cold was a rather complicated condition as it could either be a simple cold of a precursor to other, more serious, diseases: bronchitis, pneumonia, quinsy, consumption (tuberculosis), pleurisy, rheumatism, neuralgia, and more.
Doctors seemed to believe that the main cause of a common cold was dampness rather than anything else: a damp bed, a damp seat, a damp house or room, a damp robe, and more. Bathing for a prolonged amount of time was discouraged as it "caused colds".
The physiological nature of a cold was that it was seen as an inflammation of a mucuous membrane within the air-passages.
Victorians recommended that one who has caught a cold should stay quiet and not talk much, not eat too much food though drink plenty of water. The most jarring thing is, they recommend - within the book in Sebastian's possession - that colds are to be immediately treated with an aconite tincture. Needless to say, aconite is toxic in all forms and causes nausea and dizziness, vomiting, heart and lung problems, as well as death.
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Out of safery reasons, we will abstain from providing any sort of recipes here. Aside from aconite, or when aconite was simply not enough, Victorian doctors suggest the following remedies:
Camphor
Phosphorus
Belladonna
Bryony
Nux vomica
Ipecacuanha
Bismuth
Arsenic
All of these ingredients are highly toxic and their effect on the human body greatly varies. Regardless, these should not be taken in absolutely any form.
Cough
Victorians recognize multiple varieties of a cough and state that there's no universal panacea for all of them. Still, they do recommend a few home remedies that are mixtures made of rather unusual components.
One suggests mixing a Paregoric elixir, which is a highly toxic substance containing deadly hydrogen cyanide, with oxymel, cascarilla, and chloric ether. Another proposes a method to treat dry cough: mixing morphia, hydrogen cyanide, and chloric ether together before ingestion.
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Other cold treatments include:
Aconite [☠]
Alum [☠]
Asafoetida [!]
Belladonna [☠]
Chamomile oil
Chloroform [☠]
Coltsfoot [!]
Drosera
Gelsemium [!]
Ipecacuanha [☠]
Nitric acid [☠]
Sulphur [!]
Tartar emetic [☠]
☠ - toxic, deadly! - unsafe, may cause health problems for some people
Fever
The last condition that we can see Ciel canonically go through is a fever, which he seems to catch during the events of the Book of Circus arc. Now, treatment of a simple fever in Victorian times was rather unique as the doctors suggested using aconite or belladonna tincture to reduce the fever.
If it happened so that a patient's fever has not gone down after a long while, arsenic mixture is used. If nothing else helped and the fever is accompanied by shooting pain, highly toxic bryony is applied.
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Thankfully, during the cases of remittent fever lasting for many days none of these mixtures were applied. Instead, the patient would be given ice to suck, cold water to drink, or some lemonade. Vomiting was to be calmed down with application of chloroform or ipecacuanha. Quinine, which has many dangerous side effects, would also be given. The most the patient would get aside from such dangerous medicine is nutritious meals and a lot of water.
Overall, it seems like using The Family Physician for treatment of many conditions that boys like Ciel would go through in real life Britain would cause more disadvantages than benefits for the patient. Over-reliance on toxic stimulants and deadly chemical substances could not possibly be good for anyone whose health was compromised.
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Edits of the manga pages are made by us. Please, do not use them.
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clumsyraccoon · 10 months
Text
OK, here it is...
Kusakabe Atsuya (JuJutsu Kaisen) x AFAB!reader
Reader is afab but I tried to keep anything else as gender neutral as possible, so description of body should be ambiguous. "pussy", "cunt" and "clit" used to describe genitalia. No pronouns used.
Adding details: reader is a foreigner sorcerer, mentions of previous make out session (I said it was self indulgent… >.>”), mentions of alcohol
Smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THANK YOU): fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
Words: 2630
[I swear to the gods I don't know what (or who) possessed me while writing this O_O It's honestly my first time ever finishing a smut piece, so if you have comments and/or constructive criticisms, as always I will be more than welcome to hear them! ^^]
[Ah, yes, not beta read, minor edit just to not post a complete mess XD]
The now empty boxes of your take-out are set aside in a corner of the table, to make room for all the preparatory paperwork for the mission. Forms, applications, and all the paperwork required: you also had to learn all the bureaucratic minutiae in order to become a full-fledged sorcerer. You flanked several professional sorcerers since you arrived at Tokyo JuJutsu High, to better understand all the various processes and to see how every individual had their way of doing the work, and for the mission at hand it was Kusakabe-san turn.
After the end of class for that day, you both opted go to the home of one of the two: as much as JuJutsu High provided rooms and offices for their personnel, the both of you wanted somewhere more cosy and relaxed, as winter was fast approaching and being in the office when it was already so dark outside spoiled the mood of the man paired with you.
In that first year in Japan, you had the chance to meet a variety of exceptional and extravagant people that left you almost without breath sometimes, first above anyone else the person that scouted you: Gojo Satoru. But Kusakabe was somehow...different. He was indeed a powerful and skilled sorcerer, a Grade 1 nonetheless, but his demeanor was so in contrast with people like Gojo or Mei-Mei that he seemed almost...normal. And that was kind of a relief, especially for a foreigner that has been oblivious about the jujutsu society for most of their life. He was a good teacher and when he came to you, he used the same patience and tranquility in explaining things: just as he didn't treat any of his students as stupid (maybe apart from the occasional times when they drove him nuts), he never made you feel inferior, putting you at the same level of every other sorcerer and explaining things calmly and clearly.
“Now, we begin with filling the Prearranged Team Management Form.” his low voice takes you out of your own thoughts, bringing you back to the delightfully bureaucratic filled present. He slides a blank folder under your nose, pointing with his finger the protocol number. “It serves to organise who will be in the team and leave a track of which exact people will be at which exact location. Obviously 99% of the time it is filled out after the mission is over, due to the lack of advance notice...but I have to teach you properly, so here it is.”
As much as he hates missions, he is a very thorough individual. Every paper is neatly placed in front of you, a small semi-transparent differently coloured post-it at the corner of every folder, a way to categorise them depending on their function and who they should be delivered to in the office. You nod, trying to memorise number and use of said form, while Kusakabe lends you a pen. “Experience is the best teacher – he says, a small grin appearing on his lips – so I’ll let you do the honor” Another nod from you, while you put all the concentration you’re capable of into filling the form out. He snorts at your face, a smile tugging at he corners of his lips “Don’t worry, you’re not under exam.”
---
A couple of hours later and the atmosphere is far more relaxed, thanks to the majority of the papers being taken care of...and also to the couple of bottles of red wine you had brought from your country.
“There - you say, stretching and lying on the floor, since sitting on a chabudai for too long was something your body was still not that used to – should be the last one, right?” The wine in your system is not that much, you would not call yourself drunk right now, but it leaves a pleasant buzz throughout your whole body, your senses slightly enhanced by the alcohol. There’s also a pleasant warmth that radiates form you and, even if you’re wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you feel it slowly increasing. Turning your head towards him, you take the chance to glance at Kusakabe while he’s still preoccupied with checking papers: your gaze start from the hand on the floor he’s putting his weight on, then slowly trails up his hairy forearm (when did he took of his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up?!?), the slightly unbuttoned shirt, revealing just a hint of his also hairy chest…
“Yep, everything seems fine to me”
...his neck and jaw, idly moving whenever he turned his lollipop around in his mouth...(his neck and jaw that you explored oh so well in an half-drunk yet very aroused state after Ieiri’s birthday party...)
“Y/N?”
You snap out of your trance and meet his questioning gaze, the warmth inside of you making a sudden surge. But, somehow, you don’t feel embarrassed nor guilty. You never felt like that with him, always making you feel at ease, as if he was something solid, something certain that brings stability in the frenzy of life.
“Yes?”
“Are you drunk?”
A heartfelt laugh escapes your lips, while you pat the futon at your side, inviting him to join you on the floor. “No, just happy we finally finished all the boring stuff.” you answer, while he lies on his side near you, propped up on one elbow, hand supporting his head. You look up at him, trying to ignore the warmth that heavily radiates from his body as well.
“Thank you, Kusakabe-san” you murmur.
“Ah, I’ve already told you – he retorts, a small grimace on his features, while he takes the stick of his now finished lollipop out of his mouth – you can call me Atsuya.”
“Well, then... thank you, Atsuya.”
The way you say his given name is not even consciously intended, but it slips out of your lips nonetheless, taking down the raising heat by a couple degrees...but not in an unpleasant manner. Your own voice send a shiver down your spine, the way you said his name probably giving away way more than you had intended to, and you search his gaze, to see and assess how much damage you have done. His brown eyes are instantly locked into yours, a flick of hesitation already fleeting away to give space to...to… You don’t know how to describe what you see, you just feel the warmth of his body raising again and his already wide pupils taking over his irises completely, two dark pools you’re sure you’ll drown into, if you’re not careful. He doesn’t say anything, just exhales a tad too loudly than normal, while still not breaking eye-contact with you. His free hand slowly reaches for you and you don’t notice, still too enthralled by the soft, welcoming abyss of his eyes, until his fingertips brush against the exposed skin between your t-shirt and jeans, fingertips so hot they threaten to burn holes into your flesh, so hot they send another, more powerful this time, shiver up you spine. It’s your time now to exhale loudly, anticipation already making you squirm under his touch.
“Atsuya”
His name rolls out of your tongue another time, more shyly yet more pleading, a whisper that becomes a prayer on his ears and in his heart. How can he deny you, resist you anymore when you say his name oh so nicely? How can he find the strength to stop the both of you once again when you’re here, on his futon, looking up at him with that gaze, calling his name with that tone? How can he withdraw from your warmth? How can he suppress all that turmoil you cause in his heart every damn time he sees you?
He, simply, can’t.
So, finally, instead of fighting back what he now knows to be unbeatable, he surrender. He surrender himself to your smile that goes with your every “Good morning!”, he surrender himself to electricity that surges every time your hands brush by accident, he surrender himself to the optimism you sport every time you go on a mission together. He surrender himself to you, completely and undeniably.
The fingertips on your skin become a palm, sneaking under the hem of your t-shirt and gently caressing what’s underneath it. Your answer wants to be a soft gasp, but there’s no time for it to form before his lips descend on yours. The kiss is so sweet it is almost chaste, that first contact delivering all the feelings the both of you have tried to store away in the depths of your hearts, finally revealing what you have always been afraid to say. It feels liberating to finally let go, and you feel Kusakabe’s muscles relax in sync with yours, months of pining quickly dissolving from your bodies and souls.
One of your hand finds its way to his hair and gently tugs at it, with the result of making him part his lips and moan into your mouth, giving you the chance to deepen the kiss. The flavour of his lollipop floods your taste buds and you devour each other, almost like teenagers at their first shot at kissing, and your body already ask, no scream for so much more that you try to turn on your side to have a better position, but Kusakabe’s hand keeps you firmly in place. He pulls away just enough to look at you “Please, let me…” he murmurs against your lips. And in his tone there’s a plea that sink right into your heart and turns it into jelly. Replying with a nod you let yourself relax again on the futon, while his hand lifts your shirt all the way up, leaving your flushed chest exposed to him. He takes a moment to feel your erratic beating heart, palm pressed right in the middle of your chest, before resuming his exploration of your skin.
Despite the callousness of his hands, his touch is gentle, almost feather-like. Fingertips lightly brush against your skin, trailing around your nipples, but never touching them, down towards your navel, to your hips, up your sides. No haste nor hurry, but taking their damn time into exploring every inch of you, as if they were explorers into territory unknown to mankind up until now. They then skim just above the hem of your jeans, goosebumps now covering the entirety of your body, while his mouth descends to leave warm kisses on your chest. They are almost shy at first, sealed lips barely touching your skin, but as soon as your hand find its place in his hair again, they become more bold, tongue poking out to wet the path.
It takes a few minutes of kisses placed with utter adoration all over your exposed body, before Kusakabe muster the courage to latch on one of your nipples. And when he does, you start to sing. A moan finally fall freely from your parted lips, your body arching into his touch, craving him not only there, but everywhere on your burning body. Your free hand joins the other and entangles itself in his brown locks, instinctively squeezing every time you feel his teeth grazing against your sensitive flesh and receiving a pleased grunt from him in exchange.
There’s a trickle of saliva connecting your nipple to his tongue when he parts from you, and you look at it glimmering in the room’s light, almost enraptured by the vision, before your attention is diverted from it by the man’s hand. Slowly, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, his gaze fixated on you and, as you reciprocate his look, the thought that crosses your mind is that he’s insanely handsome. A blush covers the majority of his face and the tips of his ears, his hair is ruffled by all of your toying, and in his eyes you can see the real feeling he always nurtured for you.
Warm fingers slip past the waistband of your panties and push the clothes down enough your tights to leave your core exposed, the sudden chill air against you heated skin sending a shiver up your spine. Cupping his face with your hands, you kiss Kusakabe deeply, pulling him closer to you, while his fingers start to roam your tight like they previously did on your chest. Your focus shifts from his mouth to his neck (god how you missed it) and you unbutton his shirt, trying to spur him, but his touches are painstakingly slow, fingers too far away from where you wanted them most. Undaunted, you continue your attack, tongue tracing pathways of pleasure into his skin, teeth scarping and sinking, lips comforting and eliciting.
Circles are drawn on the canvas of your skin, smaller and smaller, until he finally reaches your cunt and you start to loose track of time, his fingers teasing your folds but never entering, caresses on your clit that never turns into that something more enough for you to finally cum. Squirming and whimpering through the sweet anguish he persists in doing, yet you hear the first signs of capitulations in his own grunts and moans.
Yet he persists.
Yet he persists.
Yet he persists.
Your breaths are hot and short against each other, the temperature of both your bodies so high now you might have a fever. Your face nuzzle in the crook of his neck, his ministration starting to make you see stars in your vision, while you desperately cling to his now exposed chest, hair soft under your touch.
“A-atsuya...p-pleeease…”
Deft fingers continue to caress your sex, eliciting a new series of moans and cries out of your mouth, his tongue trailing from your ear down your neck, leaving the skin burning in its wake. And you know that, if he continues to torture you like that, it’s no long before you come undone under him. So, with the last remnants of your will, the leg trapped in between his tries to grind against his hard, still clothed, cock, while one of your hand tries to get a hold of his forearm, in a futile attempt to slow him down or hurry him up, you’re not even sure of what you want to do anymore. You just now that you will not resist a second more.
As if he reads your mind, Kusakabe finally finally push a finger past your folds and inside your aching pussy, your lewd cry of pleasure making his dick throb in his pants. There’s no need for a second digit, as your orgasm hits you suddenly and violently, leaving you shaking so bad you cling to him for dear life.
You stay like that for a couple of minutes, but as soon as the shivers start to subside, you look up at him “Need you...inside...pl-please…” is all you manage to say in between your broken breaths. A soft kiss on your temple “Are you sure?”
Just a nod from you and he’s unbuckling his pants, letting his cock finally free. Impatient hands pull him closer and he’s already lined up to your entrance and ready, but he takes his time to smile down and then softly kiss you, before entering in one go in your wet hole. It’s your turn now to moan into his mouth, while he hooks your legs over his arms, a mating press the best way to deal with all the too many clothes you two still wear.
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your peaks, pent-up as you are, moans and cries being swallowed into hungry kisses, bodies trembling in unison. And as your breath slowly come back to normal and you both descend from your high, the way Kusakabe embraces you tells you everything you wanted to hear from him.
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freezingmcxn · 3 months
Text
The Maine Forests AU
This is a creepypasta AU i made up many moons ago, this is a full break down of everything, there is certain things I need to go in depth with but they will have to be in a separate post, so please don’t hesitate to ask about anything you want to know more about!
Playlist to listen to when reading :)
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My AU is set in Maine, obviously, but it primarily focuses on a place called Durham in my fanfiction.
Instead of all the creepypastas being confined to one large mansion, they live separate lives in different parts of Maine, some within the forests, some in towns.
Some of them have crossed paths and formed relationships, while others have not.
Those who live in the forests (although not all of them do) can move around various parts of Maine to stay hidden from society.
They only leave the forests to get supplies or, in some cases, to kill.
The forests are connected through a Portal System, allowing them to move around easily and stay hidden.
Portal System:
What is it? How does it work?
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There are hidden gateways located deep within the forests of Maine.
For example, you can find a portal in Durham that leads to Carmel and vice versa.
90% of Maine is forests so you could go anywhere you wanted, this is extremely useful to the creeps who go about their lives slaughtering people.
These portals are invisible to the naked eye and are situated between two trees, which the creeps mark for convenience.
For those unaware of the forest's secrets, it would take months to understand this system.
Hikers or campers who accidentally wander through a portal become disoriented and confused due to the sudden transportation, leading them deeper into the forest and closer to any lurking creatures (or creeps).
These lost individuals are called "Wanderers" and are commonly seen by the creeps, standing around aimlessly and on edge, their sanity slipping as they’re usually scared shitless and very confused.
Wanderers usually die after a few hours but sometimes the torment can last days.
They usually die at the hands of feral entities, dehydration or hunger.
It’s rare that a creep will kill the wanderer as there’s a limit on how far creeps can go in the forest.
At a certain depth there’s a risk of being affected by The Slenderman or attacked by dangerous entities, most of them stay away.
Entities:
What Entites? Why are they there?
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There's a lot to unpack about this topic.
The forests in Maine are unusual, there’s a supernatural element that nobody fully understands.
These forests are home to mythical creatures and cryptids like skinwalkers, wendigos, fairies, and various forms of the rake.
Some entities come across as humans, some do not. It is common to see shapeshifters.
All of these creatures exist because of the supernatural aura in the forests (I will discuss why this exists later in this post)
Many blogs online detail sightings of these unusual beings, most creatures are never close to hiking trails or forests outskirts so it’s easy to dismiss the claims as fake or hoxes.
Due to the forests being hotspots for all things supernatural, cult and satanic rituals take place within them.
Due to this a lot of demons, spirits, and other things of that sort arise and inhabit the trees.
Also, you should note that the Portal System allows some entities to appear anywhere at anytime.
The Forests:
What’s happening there? Danger Zones?
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The forests are divided into three zones: Zone 1, Zone 2, and Zone 3.
As you move deeper into the forest, your chances of survival decrease. In addition to the natural dangers, there's also the looming threat of becoming a victim of The Slenderman.
Zone 1 (The Outskirts): This area includes parts of hiking trails and camping sites. Creatures here are generally not a major risk. You'll encounter normal forest animals and perhaps the occasional cryptid, but they aren't typically harmful.
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Zone 2 (The Forest): This zone presents moderate threats, with a mix of bloodthirsty and harmless creatures. It's advisable to have someone with you for added safety, as an extra set of hands, eyes, and ears can be crucial. Additionally, this area is known to harbor various creeps living in cabins, tents, and campers.
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Zone 3 (The Depths): In this barren and silent area, there are only two likely outcomes: becoming food for The Slenderman or one of his proxies. If you've made it this far without dying, the chances of survival are slim. No animals or sounds exist here, amplifying the eerie and deadly atmosphere.
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The Slenderman:
Who is he? Whats his relevance?
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This has changed over the past few months and Slenderman has came and gone from my AU but this is the official release of it so here’s the deal with him.
Important: The Slenderman is not the primary focus of this AU, it is more so focused on how the creeps survive and live their lives.
The Slenderman, like other mysterious creatures of the forest, is a manifestation of supernatural energy.
He lives in the deepest parts of the Durham forests, where he lures victims by calling their names and leading them off hiking trails, then feeds on their fear. (think of pennywise!)
He also targets "Wanderers," who end up in Zone 3.
These specific “Wanderers” usually end up becoming his proxies, they lead people to Zone 3 in order for him to feast on their fear.
The Slenderman gains strength with each feeding, empowering him to edge closer to civilisation and feed on the fear of more people.
However, despite growing his power, he has never successfully breached into inhabited areas (towns).
The Slenderman awakens every five years to feed, remaining active for one year during which he tries to move beyond the forest's boundaries.
During the time of my AU he is awake!
Proxies:
What are they? What’s their purpose?
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PSA I did cross the Marble Hornets characters Brian (hoodie) and Tim (masky) but please be know I treat them differently than how they are portrayed in MH! I am aware that they are separate from creepypasta, this is for fun and convenience..(same is said for Kate)
Proxies are people who have become hollow shells under The Slenderman's control, they rarely speak or interact with others, it depends on how far gone they are.
Their actual consciousness is gone, The Slenderman can use their bodies to do his bidding by possessing them.
They are no longer their old selves and have no memory of what they were before serving The Slenderman.
The proxies help The Slenderman by luring new victims to him, helping him grow stronger. The reason he needs proxies is because he is confined to Zone 3 due to lack of “food” for lack of better term..No food means no growth, no growth means no power or ability to get close to his goal.
The furthest he has gotten before is Zone 2.
The Proxies are recognized by the others, who give them nicknames based on something unique about them.
For example, Kate, who wears steel-toe boots, is called "Boots," and Brian, who wears a bright yellow hoodie, is called "Hoodie."
Purus:
Whats is Purus? What’s their role in this?
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Purus is the main reason the portals are open/were created. This is very detailed and an important part of my AU so please read for the full effect.
This is only a summary of the timeline, I can totally post that another time!
Purus, was a cult that emerged in the 1970s and captivated many until its abrupt end in the 1980s.
David Newton was once a seemingly ordinary real estate agent in Durham, David's life took an unexpected turn following a psychotic episode.
This episode plunged him into an obsession with religion, marked by vivid and terrifying hallucinations of a deity named Zalgo.
According to David, Zalgo revealed to him a chilling prophecy, the imminent collapse of both the “underworld” and overworld, an event that threatened all of humanity.
Compelled by these visions, David believed it, he took this as a sign, his divine duty was to lead people to safety and into a new era of salvation.
As he gathered followers, Purus became a sanctuary for those seeking refuge from the apocalypse.
David Newton’s followers abandoned their previous lives without a trace, retreating deep into Durham’s forests to live nomadically, cut off from civilisation.
Major concerns arose over these individuals who had vanished from society, raising alarms among authorities and loved ones left behind.
Within the forest, a disturbing atmosphere of mass hysteria took hold of those poor souls.
Driven by David’s incessant preachings of an impending apocalypse, the followers were consumed by a relentless wave of anxiety and fear.
The constant dread of the foretold collapse of both the “underworld” and overworld left them clinging desperately to David's promises of salvation amidst the looming threat.
David became convinced that creatures from the "underworld" had begun wearing the skins of the humans in the towns of Maine.
Fueled by this delusion, he initiated a series of terrifying hunts, targeting these supposed "skin stealers."
As paranoia spread, the cult's members were drawn into his madness, also participating in the brutal rituals.
These sacrifices became a grim staple of life within the cult, each ritual further binding the followers to David's twisted vision.
The once peaceful forest sanctuary devolved into a stage for their dark ceremonies, where fear and devotion merged in an attempt to ward off the apocalyptic doom they believed was closing in on them.
The cult began to spread beyond Durham’s forests, travelling across Maine.
They moved from town to town, convinced they were purging these places plagued with "skin stealers."
Each new town that encountered the grim rituals of Purus, was left with fear and devastation.
Hundreds were killed and thousands were reported missing during this time.
As authorities began to close in on the mysterious murders and disappearances linked to the cult, David Newton found himself under mounting pressure.
Unwilling to face capture before the apocalypse, he devised a final, desperate plan.
One day, he announced to his followers that Zalgo had delivered a new vision, the apocalypse was imminent, and their salvation lay within a nearby lake in Carmel, Maine.
Believing this lake to be a portal to a safe haven, David led his followers to its shores, proclaiming that they had finally reached the gateway to salvation.
In an almost euphoric state, the cult members rejoiced, convinced that their journey was at an end.
One by one, they entered the lake, seeking the promised sanctuary.
None survived.
The aftermath was gruesome.
Rumors spread through the surrounding towns, whispering that the bodies recovered from the lake had been disemboweled and despite a thorough search…
David Newton’s body was never found.
Some stated that he had escaped, while others believed he had met a fate even darker than that of his followers.
Purus haunted Maine long after the cult had vanished into the depths and left behind a whole new mess.
David led his cult through a sinister circuit, moving between Portland, Fort Kent, and Bangor in Maine.
These towns became the primary sites of their horrifying sacrifices. When viewed on a map, the locations form a triangle, with Carmel positioned at its center.
Theories suggest that the supernatural energy and portals that are now present in the forest are a direct result of the blood rituals carried out within this triangle.
David’s dark actions were thought to have unleashed a malevolent force, binding the locations in a web of significance.
Oh my god it’s finally finished..this has taken…a lot time and effort, I had worked on this throughout my finals trying to make it all make sense, so thank you so much for the patience and unwavering support :)
Asks are always open! I will be definitely spending lots more time on discussing my AU this summer and working on the fanfic as well :D
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