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#as he doesn't often seem to look at the bigger picture when it comes to the consequences of his actions
age736 · 8 months
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For the Greater Good
Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.
tagged by: @acoldsovereign tagging: idk take it if u wanna
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lehguru · 5 months
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MUSCLE MUSCLE! + ONE PIECE MEN
one piece men having a muscular fem!s/o feat. monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, trafalgar d. water law, sanji, donquixote rosinante, buggy the clown
info: again FEM!READER , this is so self indulgent its embarrassing; not proofread
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luffy wouldn't mind you having muscles. he thinks that's something normal – just like some women can be skinny or chubby, others can be muscular. he would love to compare his biceps to yours if you love to flex, he takes it as a fun playful thing. he would adore to train with you, it gives him a big motivation; not only because it's someone as strong as him training, but also because he would adore to share earbuds with you and do silly dances to make you laugh between your sets.
zoro thinks the way you managed to build up your muscles is amazing. he often talks to you about your training techniques and diet; you're also one of the few – three – people he invites to workout with him. if you spot him during bench presses, he always puts a higher weight than he would while alone – that's his way to show that he trusts you and your strength. he will often stare at your body at the gym, but it's never in a creepy way, he just wants to make sure you're okay while doing your exercises (and he secretly enjoys to see your muscles working).
law is constantly wanting to rip his hair off with worry for you. he thinks your psyche is nice and he have no problem with it, his fears lie on your diet and your bones/joints. he fears that you might get an injury and you're not keeping a healthy fat percentage; even if you reassure him and say everything is fine, he always show up with food at your place. if he's not in that worried state, he loves to feel your muscles while you hug him (he has a skinnier build, so he enjoys the contrast). his favorite thing ever is to feel your arms around his head while he lays on your stomach.
sanji would love your body no matter what, but there's something about you being able to lift him up – and even throw him around if you want to – that drives him insane. if you post a picture with any of your muscles flexed, you will get a dozen of comments from him. if you take him to the gym to train with you, he will praise you and won't even train so he can "appreciate and help a goddess like you". he begged you for a long time to give him a headlock so he could take a picture and make it his profile picture in every single social media he have (and the background on his phone).
corazón always get shy whenever he looks at any of your muscles – you often notice it, because his cheeks become a nice shade of pink. at first you thought he didn't like you being muscular, but quite the opposite. unlike his brother, he doesn't build up muscles that easily (they have the same genetics, but he always says he was born to be the skinny brother), so you, the love of his life, being muscular? he is over the moon. if he gets your consent to do it, his hands will be all over you. if you need a massage, he's there. if it's just resting on your thigh or your back during a cuddle session, he's happy. he loves your muscles a lot, not more than he loves you.
buggy thinks you're one of the coolest people because of your muscles. he always wanted to be bigger and scarier, but his muscles always seemed to grow on his legs and stomach only, so if you are well-balanced on all your body, he is smitten. he loves to lay on any part of your body, giggling to himself if he thinks about doing that when you two are apart. he is constantly praising you, but, unlike sanji, they come in a more "if you were the queen, i wouldn't mind being the jester" way. he wouldn't mind tagging along with you to the gym, but he would spend more time glaring at any other men that looks your way than actually training.
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2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!
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reiden · 3 months
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i wanna hold the hand inside you | r.itoshi
You think of Itoshi Rin, your first love, often; the one who never was and the one who got away. Unexpectedly, you find yourself reuniting with the boy you once knew right in front of your apartment.
cw: fem!reader, reader has a habit of skin-picking, soft angst w/ happy ending, suggestive, slight hand obsession?
— ✦
You always feel uglier after you pick at your skin. Which defeats the purpose because you do it to rid yourself of an imperfection you've stumbled upon. And yet, after all is said and done and the skin has grown irritated, all you can think about is how you've only gotten uglier.
You used to pick at your face, scratching at any bumps or texture you spot in the mirror, but you've gotten better about it now. You've stopped doing it on your face altogether. It was one too many people who thought they were close enough with you to inadvertently call you ugly. You're pretty sure the first to do it had been Itoshi Sae, your neighbour two houses down. Back then, when you were only eight, you hadn't cared that he thought your habit was unbecoming. It didn't matter what Sae thought — you had Rin.
One day, you realised you didn't really have Rin either.
Since then, you've moved onto your hands.
Your face is the important part, no one ever really looks at hands. You might think about it if you were to give a handshake, but when you think of that person from memory later that day, you'll think of their face. As long as your face is left alone, it doesn't matter what happens to the skin around your nails.
But you like looking at hands. They reveal so much about someone. Whether or not they clean their nails, if they paint them, if their hands are soft or calloused — all of these things are like clues that fit together to form the bigger picture of their life. Your own hands must give away the parts of you that you would prefer to stay hidden — like the fact that you pick at your skin. Itoshi Rin has beautiful hands. His hands were pretty enough that you were glad he played a sport that relied on his legs and feet instead. You never told him that you thought so; he probably would have called you strange should he have found out.
He never seemed to value you in the same way you valued him.
You pull at your skin again, pushing it down with the edge of your nail just until you feel the sharp sting of it having gone too far. It's boring at your job, nothing much to do or see. You sit on an ergonomic moving chair behind a large wooden desk, adjusting calendars and making appointments. There isn't much mystique to your job, nothing to write home about, but it gets you through life just fine. Glancing over at the time, you decide to click through and answer a few more emails in time for lunch to roll around.
In junior high, you had wanted to be an artist. You joined the art club and begged your family to let you participate in painting and sketching classes. You kept sketchbook after sketchbook filled with doodles and things — mostly of hands. It's been a long running obsession of yours. You used to draw faces but ever since you stopped messing with your face, your drawings of them phased out too.
In senior high, a teacher told you that artists don't make money from drawing hands all day. It irked you enough that you let go of that dream. You wanted to become a nail technician, you decided. The day you changed your dream, you went to tell the only person you considered close enough to tell; you went to tell Rin. It was that day that you had to come to the startling realisation that your best friend didn't seem to consider you much of a friend anymore. You spent all of your lunch break looking for him, only to find him practising at the field behind your school. When you called out to him, he ignored you. He stopped answering your texts too. You discarded the sliver of hope you had kept safe within your chest — the very thing that made you believe you would get Rin back soon. Something had changed in him and you didn't know what because he never told you.
(Because he never seemed to value you in the same way you valued him.)
You found other friends. Rin always seemed to be alone. He pulled out of school for a football program a week later, and you decided to give up on becoming a nail technician.
There's a soft beep that rings out from your phone — just one singular chime at the lowest volume you set on your first day on the job — when it's time for your lunch break. You always take it at the same tonkatsu shop seven minutes away from your place of work.
Today, it takes you ten minutes to get there because the heels you've chosen to wear are new ones; you haven't broken them in yet. You bought them for a date that you never ended up going to. Guilt over standing them up had consumed you but you just couldn't muster up the courage to go. You were all too aware of the fact that some pathetic part of you was still clinging onto a boy you haven't seen for a long time.
You remember the brush of the wind through his fringe, the sharp determined glint in his emerald eyes. You still hold onto the way his name once had a home at the tip of your tongue. Even as the years pass, Itoshi Rin digs his teeth into your skin and remains with you; parasitic and tormenting.
You ease yourself into the table in the corner and make your order, scrolling through your phone while you wait. Your feed is full of recent news, some things you understand and others you're not quite sure you get. Rin is there too, mixed in between all the posts about celebrities and new dramas. You were always bad at watching football. You were bad with most sports, they could never keep your interest for long, but you tried for Rin's sake. When the both of you were younger, you'd sit on the grass at the park and watch Rin run through the drills he'd seen his brother do earlier.
As you stare at the pictures of him standing on the pitch, stadium lights spilling down on him, you can't help but feel proud. Sweat glistens along his hairline, his hair still cut in the same way he used to have it when you knew him. The captain's armband is stretched tight around his bicep as his arm curls to hold up a trophy.
The swell in your chest comes with an ache you've never learned to get rid of. This ache that's ever-present, always there like a guest you can't seem to send home. It had only been a small sting when your friendship with Rin fully fell apart, but it grew tenfold when you realised you were in love with him. You pick at your skin again, the same place from earlier. Pain blooms at your fingertip but you choose to ignore it as you scroll past the pictures; your heart squeezes and shudders against your will, even after all these years.
The day inches past, sweat gathers along the nape of your neck. You leave the building at five precisely, stagger into the subway station at half past five, and sink into a navy blue seat at a quarter to six. The backs of your brand new heels dig into your ankles and you're certain there will be blisters when you yank them off at home.
Even still, your day has been a good one. Despite the fact that your mother had called and urged you to visit home; despite today marking the anniversary you first met Itoshi Rin; despite the way your heart always sinks at the realisation that you still remember the significance of what should be another meaningless day. Despite it all, it had been good and you stare at the passerby walking along the platform, head pressed against the cool window.
(You wonder about Rin once more, like you always do. You wonder if he's walking amongst a crowd this evening, perhaps something fried in his hand, keeping his palm warm. Maybe he's holding a drink instead — lukewarm green tea. In another world, it might have been your hand.)
The train shakes to a start, rocking you from side to side and it becomes impossible to keep yourself awake. You drift off to the memory of a boy you once knew.
-
You're sure you're bleeding. The skin around your index nail is irritated, throbbing with a dull pain. Similarly, there's a sting — a quick flash of something white hot up your left calf — whenever you take a step. Your blister must have turned into a cut.
Your soles scrape against the road, shoulders loose and hunched forward as you meander your way home. The sun has set, disappearing into the skyline in the distance as the sky grows darker and the wind picks up. Streetlights have flickered to life and you pass by a salon still packed with customers, women resting against soft cushions as they converse. You roll your neck from side to side, attempting to release some of the tension that has gathered along your muscles from staying seated almost all day, fingers loosely wrapped around the straps of your bag.
Eyes trained on the fading white marks beneath your feet, you turn the corner into the alleyway you apartment building sits in. There's a crunch of someone taking a step towards you, and then — the call of your name, familiar, wrapped up in the gravelly tone of a voice too rough to belong to the boy you once knew. But you know it's him, anyway.
"Rin?" you tilt your head to the side, scanning over his features as he stands against the sunlight, soft shadows marking his pale skin. He remains silent, almost stunned as he stands across from you, so you speak again, "It's been a while." 
He doesn’t smile, but the corners of his mouth twitch in a way that suggests one. Rin is wearing a dark windbreaker, hands stuffed into its pockets. There's a loose thread hanging off the cuff around his wrist, a tiny rip of the outer fabric revealing the slight grey beneath. He clears his throat, "Yes, it has been." There's a pause then, neither of you willing to bridge the gap in conversation as the exhaust fans whir quietly. 
"How have you been?" Rin asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell him now, flowery and sweet; its lavender, which is what you had remembered him as. In a way, it comforts you — some things will stay the same and stand the test of time, no matter how many years have inched by.
“I’ve been good,” you hum. Truthfully, you haven’t quite been good in a long time. You’ve been alright, you’ve made it from day to day, you pay your bills on time and you see your friends every other weekend; but it’s not good — it's just alright. You don’t think Rin needs to hear that, not after how long it has been since you last heard his voice following after your own. 
It's strange to think about how his mother knows your name and your face, knows that you like lemonade with some raspberry in it; how Rin was there to witness the way you got every fading scar on your arms and legs. Standing before him now, you don't even know what his apartment might look like. Your lives, which were once so intricately intertwined, have unravelled and diverged to the point of obscurity.  
You've given him the room to say something, continue the conversation or choose to end it, but Rin is quiet as he takes you in. His brows are furrowed, just a shaky line above his dark eyes as watches you fidget and begin to grow uncomfortable under the weight of stare. 
This silence is far too heavy of a burden for you to shoulder, so you cut through with a question that seems a bit out of place now. "What are you doing here?" 
Your voice seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was previously in, "I was out on a walk — wandering around, I guess." Rin shuffles even closer and the wind billows, rustling the fabric of his windbreaker. You watch his hair flutter and fall against his forehead.
"I would have thought that you'd be busy all the time, seeing as you're a celebrity now," you say with a soft laugh, twisting the ends of your coat between your fingers while your bag swings gently from side to side in your other hand. 
He doesn't seem to like that, gaze sharpening just a bit as his mouth curves into a frown. You chew on your bottom lip, feeling a bottomless pit open up inside of your stomach at the realisation that it's become so much harder to talk to the boy who used to be your best friend. (To talk to the boy who you used to love — who you are willing to love once again.) 
It's getting colder as the remaining tendrils of sun slowly disappear, hiding away to make room for the moon to shine. You nod at your apartment, "Would you...like to come inside?" You expect him to say no, after all, the two of you are no longer the people you remember each other to be. 
Surprisingly, Rin perks up at your question, firmly nodding once. He follows after you as you walk over to your front door, fishing around the front pocket of your bag for your keys. Rin stands a hair's width away from you, his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and goosebumps ripple down your arms. 
You watch him study your home, scrutinising your choice of decor — the small pictures framed on the walls, magazines and books strewn about — as he takes off his shoes. He seems to be drawn to the picture resting on one of your shelves: it's of you and him, years ago, standing next to each other with smiles full of missing teeth that look more like grimaces. You were hoping he wouldn't notice that one, one of the only pictures you've kept of and from your childhood, but you can't blame him for it either. Had it been you, that picture would have been the first one you noticed too.
"You kept this?" he's nearly whispering as he gently takes the ageing framed photo in his hands. 
You rest your bag on the floor, "Yeah. Mom gave it to me right before I moved out." He turns back to look at you and his next words are unspoken, but still so loud. 
You hadn't just kept it — you framed it, placed it in your living room for everyone to see. His expression crumbles momentarily, a quiet admission of guilt that settles in the short distance between you. Rin must not have kept much of you with him. He never says it outright, but you know better. Maybe that should leave you feeling bitter but it's somehow exactly what you expected of him. 
Has Itoshi Rin changed at all from the last time you saw him? Do you just know him too well? 
Dusting off your clothes, you take a deep breath, "It's getting late. Want dinner?"
Rin agrees. Like you were expecting him to.
-
You've never liked beer.
But you find yourself peering into a glass full of it as Rin settles in across from you. You're still in your work attire, the waistband of your skirt digging into your stomach after your full meal. Rin's left his windbreaker in a crumpled heap of fabric beside his chair, the tip of his finger drawing lines in the condensation forming on his glass. His nails are well-groomed, cut short and clean. They might be better than yours, but that’s because Rin doesn’t pick at his skin like you do. You stare until you think you shouldn’t anymore. 
He hasn't gotten up to leave. You haven't kicked him out. 
Resting your cheek against your fist, you push yourself forward, closer to him. Your slight movement draws his attention away from the glass, Rin looks up at you as his frown eases up. 
"It's strange seeing you," you admit, more open to honesty thanks to your slight state of inebriation. "Strange seeing you after so many years." 
"You have that picture," he scoffs, jerking his head in the vague direction of the picture of the two of you as kids. 
Scrunching up your nose, you lean back against the chair, "Yeah, but you don't look like that anymore. You're taller and you have too many teeth." You take a sip of your beer, feeling it fizz against your top lip, "And you're probably meaner now." 
He startles, looks offended when he throws back whatever's left in his glass. "I'm not mean." 
You raise a brow, "You were already pretty mean when you left me." You shock yourself at how easily the words slipped past your lips, how little hesitation there was. How you still sounded so hurt over it all despite having spent years convincing yourself that you didn't miss him. The treacherous muscle beating within your ribcage twists and shakes. It only takes a moment for understanding to soften the glare Rin is giving you. Reaching over, you grab the can of beer to refill his glass, cursing under your breath when you realise it's empty. "I'll get some more — just wait."
You dig around in your refrigerator and you can feel Rin watching. "You're bleeding," he says. 
"It's nothing," you wave him off, returning with another cold can. 
He shakes his head, "Do you have bandages?"
And so you find yourself with your chest pressed against the cushions of your couch, ankles hanging off the edge. You spare Rin a glance over your shoulder, awkwardness leaving you silent and rigid. He's kneeling beside you, holding two bandages he insisted he get for you from the years old first aid kit stashed away in your medicine cabinet. 
"You don't have to do this you know," you mumble, pinching at the inside of your cheek with your teeth. "I could have done it myself." 
Rin gently grabs your ankle, his fingers are cold enough to make you jolt. "It's fine," he brushes off your words with nothing more than a grumble. "This could get infected," he adds on as he places the band-aid over the cut. 
His hands are on you, fingers wrapped around your ankle almost completely. He skims them over your skin and you suppress a shiver. You think you should tell him that his hands are pretty — that they have always been pretty — but you bite your tongue. 
Your cuts don't hurt as much as they had earlier, and the blood surrounding them has dried down. You're sure nothing would have come of it being left uncovered, but Rin seems adamant on doing this simple task for you. You wonder if part of it has anything to do with being labelled as "mean." 
He shuffles over to your other ankle, jeans brushing against your rug, as does the same thing. It's been too long since you've been taken care of like this — the feeling has become wholly foreign and you struggle to sit still while Rin smooths out the band-aid over your skin. When he stands up, you twist around and slouch your back against the couch, facing him. 
Rin looms over you. He brushes some hair out of his eyes and sits down next to you. "I'm on a break — I'll be around a lot more."
You glance at him from the corner of your eye, "Around to see me?" 
And perhaps, you're imagining it, the way he moves closer so that his thigh is pushed up against it. Perhaps, you're imagining how he's leaned into you. Rin's temple makes contact with your shoulder and you exhale. 
"Yes," he whispers, looking up at you through his lashes." To see you." You can recognise the guilt swimming in his gaze, leftover from earlier in the evening.
You wish he would just say it — say sorry — but your heart yearns for him regardless of what he's said and what he should have said. It's ridiculous; it was years ago and you should have moved on. (And you know that the only reason it hurt as badly as it did was the fact that you had loved him twice as much when things soured.) You're motivated by the ache you've grown accustomed to when you bring your hand to his hair, digging your fingers in, scratching at his scalp. Much like a cat, Rin goes limp against you and you trace the side of his face with the pad of your thumb. 
You try to hide your other hand, feeling somewhat self-conscious about the way you’ve torn it up. Rin reaches for it without a second thought, lacing his fingers together with your own, oblivious to all the rough parts you’ve left behind with your habit. 
"What if I don't want to see you?" you question. You don't really mean it — you hope he knows. 
You can feel his breath, feel the rise and fall of his chest as he speaks, "I would wait until you said you wanted to." 
"Even if that took years?" You pause your movements, hand still in his hair. Rin draws a gasp out from you when he presses a fluttering kiss against your wrist — a nervous kiss, one that tests the waters. 
"Even then," he says. 
You don't know who leans in first, you want to say it's Rin but you, with your years of yearning, are not to be trusted either. His cold palms cup your face, lips parting against your own, his tongue meeting yours. He kisses you hungrily, eagerly, desperate to make up for years of lost time and memories that were meant to be shared by two but left to be held by just one instead. It almost hurts — when his teeth sink into your lip and you whimper, Rin snaps his eyes open. He licks over where he bit, fingers digging into your cheeks. 
You like the feeling of his hands on you. You want them everywhere, you decide. Rin tugs at your collar, unbuttons your shirt quickly, his hands splayed out over your sides and just grazing your bra. It's only then that you pull away, chest heaving as you stare up at him.
"Will you discard me again?" Your voice sounds almost meek in a way; you're afraid of what he might say and of what you might see. Too scared to see him hesitate, too scared to meet his eyes and not see yourself reflected in them.
But Rin's answer is instantaneous. His gaze has darkened some, lust-blown and riddled with the yearning that's been growing in your chest for years. His palm encircles your wrist, the other wraps around your waist chasing purchase. "Never," he says with a kind of conviction that leaves butterflies erupting at your fingertips. 
While his hand travels up your back, he kisses you again and this time it feels different. He moves up your wrist, intertwining your fingers once more. You know you have him in all the ways that he has you. 
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traumxrei-archive · 5 days
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【 iii. picture perfect shopping 】
summary: for a debutante, one must be the most eye catching at the ball. yuu decides to take floyd shopping with them. what they didn’t realize was how picky the prankster would be when it came to their outfit…
word count: 1.6k
author’s note: floyd leech my beloved <33 i love this guy sm, and i feel like he’s one of the twsties who’d have rlly good fashion ^^
[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]
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"Master~" Floyd groaned, fiddling with his tie. "Do I have to wear somethin' so uncomfortable?"
Today Yuu was supposed to go clothes shopping. Floyd, who had previously looked bored out of his mind, suddenly shot up and volunteered himself. And since none of the others protested, the rest was history.
"Why not?" The corners of Yuu's lips twitched as they buttoned Floyd's vest.
Yuu supposed that they had a bit of a mischievous streak when it came to their own maids. Especially with Floyd Leech. It wasn't often that they had something to tease the maid with.
Floyd grabbed their hand, stopping them in their tracks, "Aren't I supposed to dress you?" 
"I suppose," Yuu glanced up, his eyes boring into theirs. "But wouldn't you rather do something more interesting instead?"
Floyd seemed to switch tactics, "Can't I wear my normal uniform? These pants are too stuffy."
Yuu thought about it. About the way Floyd preferred loose skirts that fell just above his knees. Or the way his apron was always stained with something or another from running around all day. Wearing fitted pants probably felt strange in retrospect.
But they had to appreciate how Floyd looked from an aesthetic point of view. The pants all but accentuated his height, coupled with a fitted coat and vest. Floyd looked the spitting image of a young master rather than a maid. (They patted themself on the back for choosing such a perfect outfit.)
"Hmm, but you look handsome like this too," They smiled because Floyd was always weak when it came to compliments.
They knew they won the argument as soon as Floyd released a long sigh "If Master says so~"
"Besides, we aren't trying to attract attention. If it weren't for the ball..."
Floyd grinned then, "Don'tcha worry, all I gotta do is get you lookin' the best at the ball, right Master?"
Turned out that Floyd was quite picky when it came to clothing. Maybe that was why Jade seemed quite apologetic as he was sending them off. What they thought would be a simple shopping trip turned out to be a quest for "only the best that fit Master," as Floyd put it.
"This material...isn't it on the cheaper side?"
Or, "Nah, this color doesn't match your eyes."
Or, their personal favorite, "Master, you're rich, so shouldn't you get a bigger rock?"
Yuu would’ve laughed at all of Floyd’s comments if it wasn’t considered rude to the store owners. The good thing was that Floyd had basically done the hard part for them. He had chosen a suitable outfit on their behalf, swathing them in Night Raven grey, adorned with gold trimmings. And then there were the boots made out of leather from a foreign land. Yuu probably would've chosen without worrying too much about quality if it weren't for Floyd, but he seemed determined to watch over their purchases like a hawk. 
Their feet were getting a bit tired, but Yuu couldn't bring themself to say no when Floyd entered another store.
"This time we'll find a good brooch," Floyd said as he opened the door, letting them into the store. "Something bi~g and shiny so that those garbage minnows won't look down on you."
"I'm sure I don't need it," They reassured.
Yuu knew why Floyd was worried. There were plenty of unsavory rumors going around about them, after all. It had been happening for a long time, ever since they attended NRC. 'The young heir is socially inept', or 'A mere teen cannot inherit the Night Raven Duchy, much less an orphan!', or even their least favorite rumor, 'The loyalty of their staff is due to their status.' It didn't matter much to them anyway. By the end of their Debutante, they would make sure that no one would be able to run their mouths about the Duchy or their people.
"Welcome, customers!" The salesman greeted cheerily. "Please have a seat." They both took a seat, and soon the scent of tea leaves seemed to fill the room as they waited. Floyd was already eyeing the display cases, eyes calculating. 
The store owner poured them each a cup of tea. His eyes glanced between the two of them before finally landing on Floyd, “What would you like to see, good sir?”
Ah. It seemed that this store owner had mistaken them to be a servant, and Floyd their master. It made sense, given the more simplistic clothing they decided to use if only to disguise their shopping trip. Floyd expression had dropped. They could feel the anger starting to radiate from the maid.
“Hey,” There was a cold expression on Floyd’s face. “Don’t look down on my Master like that.” Oh Sevens.
They tugged at his sleeve, before whispering, “Floyd, don’t—" 
“Master?” The owner glanced at them for a moment, not even noticing that he interrupted them. “Are you sure?”
And that seemed to be the final straw for Floyd.
He slammed his hand on the table with a loud bang and Yuu's heart felt like it stopped in their chest. Horror dawned on them as they watched the table shake, the tea set wobbling before shattering with a spectacular sound. CRASH! Hot tea spilled all over the surface of the table, splashing Floyd's arm.
“Floyd!" They hurriedly grabbed his arm, jerking it from the steaming puddle of tea.
Floyd continued to glare at the man, “It seems there’s a minnow who doesn’t know his place.”
They injected as much authority as they could into their voice, “Floyd Leech, I want you to calm down. This behavior is far from appropriate.” They watched as Floyd’s shoulders tensed, conflict passing his expression. The store owner didn’t dare to move either, face frozen in shock.
An eternity seemed to pass before Floyd released a harsh breath, “As your benevolence wishes, Master.” A frustrated expression crossed Floyd’s face before he was turning toward them, sinking to the ground. His forehead pressed against their knee, and Yuu fought not to comfort Floyd for a second.
Instead, they looked up. Yuu stared at the spilled tea with disdain, “Well? Clean up the mess. I'll compensate for the broken tea set.” 
“Y-Yes, of course,” The man seemed to sweat even more as he bowed. “And...may I know your name?” The nerve of him to ask after all that.
“Your ignorance astounds me. Most know me as the heir to the Night Raven Duchy.” And the owner turned white as a sheet. Good. That should teach him not to forget their face ever again. As the man stumbled out, they turned their attention to Floyd.
Yuu finally let their hand card into Floyd’s hair, “Floyd. You’re not upset with me, are you?”
“‘M not,” His voice was muffled, and they could feel him press his cheek against their knee. “Are you mad at me?”
They let out a light laugh, brushing the hair out of Floyd’s eyes. He was staring right at them now. “I’m not. I understand why you were offended. Now he’ll never forget my face for as long as he lives.” Floyd had a bleeding heart when it came to those that challenged their status, more than any of their other maids. And that big of a blunder coupled with the fact that the debutante was soon… It was no wonder Floyd had snapped.
"But Master..." Floyd was pouting now. "You don't hafta compensate him."
"I have to compensate him for the damageds. But the Night Raven Duchy will never give him another penny ever again," Yuu held up their palm. "Now show me your hand.”
Floyd obediently lifted his arm, which was all but soaked in tea, “It doesn’t hurt.” The skin was reddened slightly, and they frowned, wishing that they had intervened quicker.
“Still, we should have the doctor take a look later. And you should get changed,” Yuu traced over the wetness of his sleeve. “I…have your uniform. It's in our carriage, down the block.”
Floyd’s head shot up, eyes glittering, “Really?”
They nodded, sheepishly, “If you really were uncomfortable in those clothes, I wasn’t going to force you to keep wearing it for the whole— Woah—“ Floyd stood up, leaving the store before they could finish their sentence.
The owner finally returned. They wondered if he timed it so that Floyd would leave before he entered. They glanced at him, “Do you happen to have a fitting room here?”
“E-Excuse me? This is a jewelry store, but we—“ The door opened almost violently as Floyd walked back in, expression dangerously dark once more. They tapped a finger against their arm. The owner coughed, “W-We have an empty storage room at the back, p-please go ahead, your grace.”
“Thank you,” Yuu brushed off their clothes before offering a hand to Floyd. “Shall we?” Floyd seemed happy to lead them to the back, and more than happy to change back into his normal attire.
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Yuu chuckled at the sight of the lopsided headband and the carelessly tied apron. Riddle and Jamil would have a heart attack if they saw what Floyd looked like as he exited the store.
Floyd stretching ahead of them, “Kinda wish I could've beaten him up a little~”
"Floyd Leech, that is unacceptable," They said with mock seriousness, as Floyd laughed cheerily.
And watching Floyd skipping down the streets, pointing to another store up ahead, well... They couldn't say no.
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thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !
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comparison and analysis on eve and mark's colors
i know this miggght be me overthinking but i really need to get it out of my system ahahajshajsha
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Pink is definitely Eve's signature color, it's the main color of her costume yet somehow you don't see that in her casual attire. As for Mark, no doubt his signature color is blue (even yellow can be included), and that's obvious in both his costume and his casual attire.
this post contains pics from season 1 and the atom eve special, putting a cut here cause this is lowkey long so,,,, oops-
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Eve wore pink a LOT when she was a kid, it's in her every outfit throughout all the time skips in the special. When a character has a signature color, it's something that's reflected in (nearly all of) their outfit/s.
So where did the pink go on Eve's casual attire on season 1? Where did she even got the idea of wearing yellow of all colors when it's so far from her favorite color? There's red that when you mix it with white, it gives you pink. So she could have had a red top and white pants in her current casual attire, but that's not the case.
We got our answer on who she got the idea of wearing yellow from in the Atom Eve special: it was from Betsy.
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There's a key thing that I noticed from the shade of yellow Betsy wore and what Eve is currently wearing. Betsy's yellow seemed happier. It was more vibrant.
Comparing Betsy's yellow to Eve, Eve's yellow is lighter. It's dull. As if it was drained of its vibrancy. And with what we saw of Eve's past in the special, it checks out that she must've have become so, so tired of so many things.
In animated series, yellow is often associated with warm, happy, and energetic characters. But when it comes to cinematography, yellow represents other things. From the link, I think cowardice is the symbolism of Betsy's yellow - due to her fear of Eve not being "normal" and her inability to accept Eve as she is. And @mandareeboo even pointed out Betsy telling Eve to "try harder" which leads to the symbolism of yellow that I associate with Eve: insecurity. There is no bigger source of insecurity than having your own parent say that to you, especially at a young age when a lot of things feel they're scary and overwhelming that you need a parent to guide you through it but instead they just tell you to repress yourself.
It's no wonder that Eve's yellow looked pale in comparison to past Betsy's yellow, pretending for years must have been exhauasting.
(Before anyone comment that Zak could be the reason Eve wore yellow instead of Betsy, I have an explanation I'm going to be giving later so please bear with me on this one hahahsdfjahsfda)
Now on to Mark!!
In the Atom Eve special, Debbie wore no shades of either blue or green. In fact, her top's color leans more to give a nod to Nolan's signature color (red). That, and their family pictures from season 1 showed that aside from Debbie, there was a time that Mark wore red too.
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Compared to Eve and Betsy, I find it so fascinating that the opposite applies for Mark and Debbie.
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We can see that kid Mark's shorts and top are currently the colors of Debbie's top and pants.
It was a nice switch to see the mom's colors reflecting her child. You often see the kid copying the color of their parent/s. This doesn't necessarily mean Debbie copied Mark, as a mom, this is her way of commemorating her son.
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The two stripes on Mark is a brighter shade of aquamarine while Debbie's top is a darker shade of Caribbean green, and both colors are near to each other in the color spectrum. Which is definitely something we can describe their relationship: they are close to each other.
I always thought that the stripes across Mark's chest was sort of a subtle design thing to show that he keeps his mom, who represents his humanity, close to his heart. Seeing that Debbie got her colors from kid Mark adds a whole new layer to it.
This is the part where I compare the then & the now:
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The reason why I mentioned Eve would never have picked up yellow with Zak in mind was that he was just a temporary figure in her life. Eve used to wear pink so much before, it was her favorite - so one can assume that the color itself brought her joy. You see Betsy wearing pink (this is the episode Eve left "home"). So my reasoning for Betsy wearing this color was to appease Eve, while Eve wore yellow to represent her trying to please her mom.
For Debbie and Mark, it was crucial for Debbie to wear the colors Mark wore as a kid. Throughout the series, we see how desperate Mark wanted to be like Nolan, to be good with his powers so he can be a good hero. One would think that Mark would have incorporated red in his outfit, but he didn't. What stood in the place of red in Mark's outfits was yellow, a color that's close to red in the rainbow arrangement. Using the same link for the meanings of the color yellow in cinematography from earlier, Mark's yellow symbolizes two things: naivety and idealization.
See how Mark has a yellow button-up underneath his sweater? It's his naivety about his father, it's not all out there yet it's on all the ends of his sweater as if making sure you know that the yellow is something that should be seen. And Mark's yellow I in his costume? That's idealization. In his eyes, Omni-Man is (probably, I can't speak for Mark 100%) the best hero. He idolizes his dad, there was never a doubt about it. He has put Nolan in such a high standard that there was more yellow in his costume to represent his idealization rather than his own signature blue.
That's why it's so important that Debbie wore his colors from the Atom Eve special in season 1. That Mark sees that on his mom. It was a reminder of kid Mark. That even then, he was just as precious. That he mattered even wayyyy before he had powers. That he mattered because of his humanity.
[inhales deeply to catch my breath] NOW FOR THE FINAL PART!!
i'm sorry this is so long i had so many thoughts about colors, color symbolism in characters is so personal to me.
you guys can skip these pics and list cause this is kinnnnd of a stretch now hahajsdfha - feel free to go straight at the portion after the bullet points end, that's just my final ramblings dedicated for season 2
Back to topic of colors!! It's obvious at this point how relevant both Mark and Eve's moms are when it comes to their colors. So it leaves me with two remaining things about Mark and Eve: (1) the color red on Mark on his casual outfit and (2) the color pink on Eve on her casual outfit
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The only moments we saw red on Mark that isn't blood is when he wore his bag. Now I know this is a pretty small thing but that bag could literally be ANY other color - and it isn't, it's specifically red. It could have been white to match his shoes or black to match his hair but it's neither of that. It's red. It's Nolan.
I think it's really important to know the relevance of that red bag, especially in those two pictures. (1) The moment Todd was harassing Amber and Mark wanted to intervene, it's totally obvious that Mark carries the heavy fact that at the moment, he's powerless unlike his dad. And it sucks. Cause he's his father's son and even though he carries his blood, at the time, he doesn't carry Nolan's powers. It doesn't stop him from defending Amber, but it still hurts bothliterally from Todd's hits and emotionally. Mark's carrying the feeling of inadequacy cause he has no idea how to defend himself in this situation, his dad never taught him how to fight because he didn't have powers.
(2) The second picture was Mark rushing to school because his training with his dad made him late for class. He got powers now, and it's literally dragging him from his education (among other things and that's including his relationship with Amber). His power of flight, no matter how fast it is, doesn't get him to places on time. Even when he got his powers, he still had problems. They actually piled up now.
Now as for Eve, sure her casual attire doesn't have any pink on it but her bags are pink!! (1) The first picture of her was when she and Mark met at school. During my first watch, I found it cute that she held on to the straps cause it's a little habit of mine when I wear backpacks. Then at the (2) other picture where she had her luggage out so she can run away from "home", I noticed they're pink too. And it's a small observation but compared to Mark that just lets his bag hang down, Eve holds on to her bags.
The bags are both pink, and pink is her color. It's not a piece or part of her, it's her. Pink has been something she deprived herself to wear but it's something she still wants to keep, even if it's just with bags. It's the thing she's comfortable to carry, it's something she wants to hold in her hands.
I know bags are a practical item for any student to have and I overthought a lot about their bags' colors but yeah hahasdfjasdfha I'm done with that now
CLOSING WORD TIMEEEE HAHAHADSFAHFAHA
man that was a lot, anywayssss
The season 2 poster showed that Debbie has a new outfit. As for Mark and Eve, they're both wearing their hero costumes.
Slight spoilers from the comics: When Nolan left, there was a time that Mark began to dress himself in a style similar to Nolan (I can't tag op for some reason :(().
I feel there's a big chance Mark and Eve will also have new casual attires this coming second season.
Mark is likely to dress similar to Nolan just like in the comics. He will definitely have questions about his identity now that he knew the truth about Nolan, so I think Mark won't be able to wear his usual colors to show that he's figuring things out.
Mark could also wear that blue and black costume, the one that doesn't have the yellow anymore. Because he won't be idolizing his father's heroic persona anymore.
Mark, of course, misses his dad but he won't be looking up to him anymore after what happened.
As for Eve's season 2 casual look though, now that she has her own treehouse and starting to feel free from her parents, I hope she allows herself to incorporate pink in her clothing. She deserves it <33
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babybluebex · 1 month
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my latest dom “fantasy,” whatever you wanna call it, has been ur the actor who plays niece elise in the holdovers and you two like each other when filming but since your part is small you don’t see each other till a streaming of the movie when you reconnect. 🤗
oh my god stop the presses this is CUTE
you're kinda joking together and laughing inbetween takes, but you're both nervous because you have to kiss and neither of you have ever done that before (kissed other people, yes, but on screen, for the whole world to see, never) but dom's a sweetheart and you do the scene and it goes off without a hitch, and you're maybe a little disappointed when alexander payne says they got the shot they needed and that you don't need to do it again
and like yeah, you're only on set for like 1 day, and you managed to follow dom on instagram but like sorta forgot about him inbetween filming and release time?? like you both got busy and just, whatever, but then the movie comes out and at first seems like it's just gonna be any other movie, you still post pictures from set on your instagram and celebrate it, and, for the first time since meeting him, dom comments on your post "so much fun, if you're ever around my way, text me" and you're like ⁉️
and you shoot off a dm at him, sorta like "hey i was finally able to watch the whole movie and you did really good" and he texts back like "aw thanks, that's really sweet" and you ask "back then, you lived in massachusetts, where are you now?" and he says "i'm in philly right now for school, but i'm taking spring semester off, so i'll probably go back to jersey with my mom"
and you start talking like every day then, now that the door is open you can't stop, he's always sending you memes and telling stories, and you send him memes about HIM as you watch him become the new it boy (and maybe you're a little jealous bc he was YOUR boy first, he was YOUR little secret, but not so much anymore), and THEN the movie starts to get acclaim?? and it looks like it might be something more than some movie you made a few years ago for a single day?? it's turning into something bigger than that?? all your friends at uni knew that you were in the movie and had gone and seen it and teased you about the kiss, but now you're getting stopped by strangers on the way to lecture and asked about the movie?? like wtf!!
and you and dom are steady texting every day like "DUDE" "DUDE I KNOW", and it starts getting awards buzz, all the best actor and best supporting actress and breakthrough actor and everything is WILD, and you're always texting him to congratulate him winning this award or that award, and you slowly start to realize. oh shit i have a crush on him. oh fuck i'm whipped for this guy.
and the day the oscars nominees are announced, you're in lecture, and your phone starts ringing and yelling at you, and your lecturer is like "do you need to take that?" and you sorta laugh "no, whatever it is, it can wait..." and you finally dig your phone out of your bag and see it's dom wanting to video call?? which doesn't happen often, for as famous of an actor as he is now, he hates seeing himself on camera and even if you do video call, his camera is off most the time, so for HIM to initiate a video call is VERY bizarre "... actually, sir, i do need to take this, i'm sorry"
and you go in the hall and answer the call, and dom is yknow DOM, messy frizzy hair and his shirt on backwards and he's frantic, and you're like "did you just wake up, what's going on??" and he says "have you seen yet?!" "seen what??" "jesus christ, i can't fucking believe this—" "dominic, what's going on?" "holdovers has been nominated for best picture at the oscars"
and you black out for a second and snap back in and you're like "we're WHAT"
and dom says "what're you doing on march 10th?? can you come to the oscars?? do you even want to??" "yeah i'd love to, but i-i need to get to LA, and i need a dress, and i need a date—" "how about me? i'll take you"
and when you reunite in los angeles for the oscars, it's the first time you've seen him in the flesh in like nearly 2 years, but you run to him and hug him, and he hugs you back, and it's such a happy moment and you can't believe that this is your life
and all night, people are complimenting your dress and your hair and makeup, and dom won't stop trying to get people to pay attention to you, he's in a little interview on the carpet and he's asked who his date is, and he grabs you by the hips "my wonderful costar, she played elise in the movie" and everybody has the same reaction, they hear your character's name and then stare at you for a second until it clicks "oh! you did so good in the movie!!"
and dom is so nervous and anxious all night, he sorta joked "i know we won't win, there's no shot in hell, oppenheimer's gonna win, so why am i nervous??" and you hold his shaking hands in yours and try to calm him as much as possible, but cameras catch you holding hands and the way he whispers in your ear to talk to you, and like HALFWAY through the show, your friends sends you a link to a variety article that mentions the best dressed at the awards, and dom is on there, and the little text blurb under his picture says "sessa is attending the show with his girlfriend and costar" and your friend is like "GIRLFRIEND??" and you're like "wait" and apparently everybody online has mistaken your physical closeness for a relationship, and you show dom during a commercial break just to be like "oh haha look at this, they think we're dating"
and he hits you with the "are we not?" "what do you mean 'are we not'?" "i mean, i thought... i thought we've been dating for a while. i've been telling people all night that you're my girl" and you shiver with delight at how casually he says his girl, but like "you thought... well, when would we have started dating?" "you remember a few months ago, the conversation we had about how, like, i'm bad at relationships and you don't like commitment, and i said i'd try to be better and you said you'd try to commit to someone? i thought that was us agreeing to start dating"
and like shit yeah you DO remember that conversation, it was like 3am and you were on facetime for HOURS that night and you're like "oh! well... yeah, that can be it." and dom's like "sooo.... does that mean i can kiss you?" and it's a gentle, soft kiss, just like your first one so long ago
and that night, you reunite with paul and da'vine (who you had met in passing on set), and towards the end of the night, da'vine sends you a photo she took on her phone of you and dom, holding each other, foreheads touching, giggling together, and you hard launch your shit on instagram with that picture "we may not have won best picture, but i won best boyfriend <3"
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cursedvibes · 29 days
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The way people are focusing on "My fav Gojo is not racist, he's just ignorant" and "Gege really hates Gojo he made him racist" when it was not even the point of that interaction. The point was to educate and talk about some stereotypes about black people that are harmful to the community and, if you look into it I'm sure you'll find has it origins in slavery.
Besides, Gojo is privileged and comes from an old money family, and it looks like he isolatehimself from others. Of course, it's in character for him to say stupid things like that. Even if he strives for change.
Yeah, everyone is so pressed that their fave is being problematic (which honestly Gojo has always been, he's hardly a saint and he treats many people quite shitty like for example Utahime and Ijichi) that they miss the bigger picture of this. Given, I think there are better ways to get that point across, but the aim here was definitely not "look at what a uniquely bad person Gojo is, I want to make readers hate him" it's for readers to reflect upon themselves and their own biases, conscious or not. Gojo is often being a dick to people, Miguel included, but this wasn't it. He wasn't just being annoying as usual, he made a misinformed statement rooted in racism "black people are naturally stronger/tougher/more resistant" and he got told off for it, which actually led to him apologizing. He expresses bigoted views, that are quite common all around the world and can lead to real harm like for example medical discrimination, but people often don't question or even notice that they have these views. I think exactly because he's such a fan-favourite character, Miguel calling him out and Gojo admitting he said fucked up shit is important.
Gojo might make a trip to Kenya to meet Yuuta, but unsurprisingly doesn't have any real black acquaintances and the one black person he knows a little better doesn't like him because he treats him like shit, an expandable tool (given, Miguel did try to help someone do a genocide so it's not like him working to make up for that in principle is a problem, but Gojo is not just treating him badly because of that) and has dismissed him and his culture as a whole. Gojo's racism towards Miguel didn't come out of thin air with chapter 255.
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No wonder Miguel wants him dead.
You could say Gojo's racism and ignorance got punished before as this powerful cursed tool he so casually dismisses here together with its history could have gotten him out of the box much earlier. If he hadn't gone out of his way to destroy part of Kenyian sorcerer's culture because of his fear that it might be used to hurt him, he might still be alive. This chapter the payback was just more direct, Miguel was given the space to push back and not just get beat up (making in the previous moment Gojo seem like the righteous cool guy, seen by how the fandom reacted to their fight) and he also didn't sugar-coat it and straight up said "you're being racist".
The fact that Gojo apologized, something quite rare for him, and didn't defend his uninformed views or mocked Miguel for questioning him also shows that a lot of this comes from unaddressed biases, irrational fears and having lived a sheltered life in terms of being exposed to other cultures (and actually valuing them) that influence his judgement. He's not trying to be maliciously racist, but he clearly doesn't know what he's talking about and why it is harmful. I don't think he revelled in destroying other people's culture, he was just driven by a base fear, but that doesn't make the harm he caused any better. He's never had any reason to engage with black people on a personal level and that has unsurprisingly led to some ignorant opinions about them. Again, a very common sentiment which Gege uses Gojo to highlight. This is clearly reflecting arguments and talking points Gege has heard themselves and tried to address here. I'm sure there are all kinds of wild racist takes about Miguel on Japanese social media, I know the English side has them plenty.
I think the message Gege wanted to send was executed a bit clunkily by for example still tying Miguel's CT to rhythm (replacing the inhumanly strong black guy stereotype with another common one) and putting the burden all on Miguel to educate the people around him. Similarly, having only one (explicit) black person in the manga who has to then explain anti-black racism to the reader makes it feel very forced. I think you could've avoided a lot of that and included these topics more dynamically by giving us more background on Miguel's technique and how he came to it and comparing it to cursed technique's of other Kenyan or African sorcerer's. Another option would be making Hakari for example Black-Asian (or Todo or Yaga). He has a darker skin tone than the other characters and differently textured hair (which would already lead to him having to face a bunch of bigotry in his everyday life) and he is hated by the conservative higher-ups. So actually do something with that and address it.
Even Japanese people who are merely slightly tanned get harassed. Just being from Kyushu or Okinawa, somewhere where it's much warmer and sunnier and therefore not being as pale as the average person in e.g. Tokyo will get you plenty of derogatory comments, especially if you're a woman. That goes extra for indigenous people like the Ryukyuan or Ainu who not only face prejudice because of their appearance but also legal discrimination because of their origins and challenge the very popular notion that Japan only has one ethnic group and one language. Japan still struggles with a lot of racism internally against their own people, so you can imagine that it's even worse for anyone who newly immigrated or with parents who immigrated (in the best of times you will always be treated as a foreigner no matter how well you speak the language or integrate into the culture simply because you look "different"). It has gotten better in recent times, but it's still a problem, as Gege pointed out in this chapter.
Coming back to Hakari, we would also be able to see through him how jujutsu society treats black-identified Japanese sorcerers, which would be a different perspective from Miguel's who only visits Japan occasionally and mostly operated outside the system until Gojo came along. Black people aren't just something distant overseas, they are also Japanese citizens. You could show if and how jujutsu society differs from regular Japanese society. Most likely they are even more behind as they also discriminate against what kind of cursed technique you have (modern or one based on a long bloodline, which would automatically work against anyone not born in Japan and with a long family history there). You could also combine it with the transphobia Kirara faced and generally show how this system fails young sorcerers who don't conform to their norm.
But yeah, sorry Gojo is not perfect and will fall into the same stereotypical and bigoted thinking as many other people who rarely step outside their narrow homogenous social circle. Like you said, he's privileged with old money and family history who pride themselves on their bloodline. He's generally very narrow-minded about things that don't interest him or he sees as irrelevant like how he doesn't bother to understand Maki or has no problem ignoring a starving child on the road (who cares what happens to Hana, she's weak and Megumi is the strong one, he's who matters here and deserves to be lifted out of poverty) and international sorcerers fall under that as well. There are so little of them so it's okay to ignore them, why should he bother reaching out or informing himself about people abroad, he's never gonna interact with them anyway. If they get too dangerous for his taste, he's just gonna slap them around a bit and take away their sharp toys.
Honestly, I think what Gojo did previously is worse than what he said this chapter. He can learn to check his internalized racism and be more mindful of how he talks to Miguel or black people in general (he shows openness to criticism and improvement here), but he can't bring back Black Rope. It falls to Kenya's sorcerers to recreate it, which will take decades. They'll feel the impact of Gojo's actions long past his death, even when he can't say anything ignorant or racist anymore.
So I don't think this ruins his character, was done by Gege to make Gojo fans feel bad, or meant to keep anyone from liking him. He has character flaws and that is fine. He gets challenged on them and receives push back for them plenty in the story. I can understand that some fans feel bad reading the chapter, hearing Gojo regurgitate talking points they might've heard said against them as well, but it's not really Gege's fault for addressing this very common issue.
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mysadcorner · 9 months
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I'm new to your page, but I wanted to ask, would you be interested in doing a headcanon of Jason Todd being a father? If you have already done this, can i ask if you could link it to me! Please and thank you!
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Jason Todd As A Father Headcanons
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When Jason first finds out that he's going to be a father he does have terrible anxiety no matter how happy he is. He lives a dangerous life and didn't take the time to prep for this kind of thing, so he definitely needs to evaluate what he's going to do to raise them in the best way possible (and preferably differently to how he was raised before and after Bruce came along).
He'd be rushing around trying to get everything he'd need for a new child, such as supplies and things that would make his home safe - he'll probably even move you both into somewhere bigger and in a nicer area to ensure you all had slightly more security in your lives. Jason would be reading a lot to try and figure out what he has to do and how he should do it too, since he doesn't want a child to come into the picture and be completely clueless as to how to look after it.
When Jason's child is first born he'd be sworn to protect it no matter what and would spend every moment with the child that he could. He'd be a very proud father and wouldn't want to leave his new child alone no matter what, which will lead to a lot of opportunities for him to show his child off to others and prove himself as a good parent.
Jason would always have anxiety about how you and his child are doing while he's away during the first few years. He's constantly used to being vigilant and now that he has a family he has a huge vulnerability open up for others to attempt to get to, but once things settle down and he realises no one is coming for you both for the time being he'll considerably calm down about being away from you both.
Seeing his child grow up would be one of the few things that would make Jason visibly upset, mainly due to him not wanting them to grow up and not need him anymore. He realises how quickly time goes by and this further fuels his need to do his best at all times and make sure his child knew that he did all he could to look after them and make happy memories.
Jason would probably want more kids after his first one, but he certainly wouldn't want too many despite being great around kids. He knows how hectic life could get so he definitely would ask for any more unless he know you would both be prepared and happy to bring a new child into your family, and he wouldn't mind if a girl or boy is born.
When Jason's children start to get into their teens he does get stressed about them getting themselves into dangerous situations (such as sneaking out or hanging around the wrong people). Because of this he may seem a bit overbearing, but if he fully knew that they knew better he'd give them plenty of space.
When his first child comes around he would try to give up his lifestyle of going after the bad guys around Gotham; however, this may not be fully possible. Red Hood has a reputation and if he goes missing certain people may come looking, so every now and then he goes out with the rest of the family to ensure Gotham's general safety but nowhere near as often as he used to.
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cheesy09 · 20 days
Text
[CN] Kiro's 2024 Birthday Prequel
🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for content that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸
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[Note: This was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]
——*:・゚✧——*:・゚✧——
[Episode: First Wish]
The castle is captured by a dragon.
Its sharp claws flash fiercely, and its gigantic wings seem capable of setting off a deadly storm at any second. And ever since then, the world has fallen into darkness, filled with only endless and endless night.
The evil dragon enters the castle with terrifying footsteps. With the slightest movement of its claws, the boy's thin body is easily picked up. His heart seems to beat out of his chest, and the fear prevents him from making any sound. All he can do is close his eyes when the dragon opens its bloody mouth, as if the incoming pain would disappear along with the darkness.
The boy doesn't know when this kind of life will end. But it seems as though his life has been like this for as long as he can remember.
The evil dragon would come to catch him and the other children in the castle every few days. Some children are eaten, and some turned into another kind of monster. Some of the adults will help it; spouting lies and pretending that this castle is a warm place. But the boy knows that many of them have actually turned into dragons -- human-shaped dragons. There is no safe space within this castle, and cries and shouts come from all around. He covers his ears, hugs the little bear in his arms, and keeps running deeper into the corridor.
But the figure of the evil dragon gets closer and closer.
If the boy doesn't find a place to hide, he will get caught.
His breathing grows more and more rapid, and cold sweat continues to break out on his back. A huge shadows envelops his tiny figure, and he shuts his eyes in fright--
"I'm going to be eaten again." He discards his thoughts and waits for the outcome that he expects.
With a "thump", the window of the room is blown open by a strong gust of wind, and the boy suddenly wakes up. Turns out that it was just a dream.
He skillfully wraps himself up in his blanket and runs to the window, and like he has done countless nights before, he struggles to close the window with his little hands covered in frostbite. Although spring has arrived, this orphanage seems to have remained impervious to its warmth, the wind outside as biting and cold as ever. Nights were always difficult, and his hands would hurt from the wind.
Walking back to his bed on the cold marble floor, he huddles up within his worn blanket.
He quickly tries to warm up his body, especially his hands. When he first developed these chilblain, he had felt itchy and couldn't keep himself from scratching them, which would then turn into bigger sores that would often cause him to frown in pain. Now that he is used to it, as long as he endures it, he may get better faster, although he doesn't understand why these things appear in winter.
Compared to his peers, he still doesn't understand many things.
He doesn't understand why the children around him want to talk to him, why they raise their eyebrows or lower the corners of their mouths;
He doesn't understand how to respond to these conversations;
He doesn't understand why others don't respond to apparently beautiful patterns or pleasant sounds;
He doesn't even know how to express the world he sees.
But compared to his peers, he knows a lot. The bitter white tablets are medicine; the sharp ones that pierce the skin are needles; you will bleed if you are hurt or injured;
Going to a single room is scary; if someone goes cold and stiff, they are dead.
Once you die, you will never make a sound again.
Then someone will take them away and then disappear.
It isn't until the pain in his hand gradually eases that he pulls off the blanket and looks around.
After such a tossing, most of his sleepiness disappears. After making sure that all of the others are asleep, he carefully takes out the shabby picture book from under his pillow.
Under the moonlight, he skillfully turns to the last page.
"The warrior completely defeated the evil dragon. The darkness ended, the world returned to its former brightness, and the people lived happily ever after." He doesn't know the words on it, but he can understand the picture, and he likes the ending. Although he has seen it countless times, he still enjoys it.
The paper of the picture book is somewhat yellowed, and the rough printing makes the pictures and text unclear. But just like this, what may look like trash and waste paper in the eyes others, is a rare treasure to him, making these cold night less lonesome.
The night watchman's terrible voice sounds in the corridor. To him, the sound is akin to an imaginary evil dragon, making shiver unconsciously. He immediately puts the picture book back under his pillow and hides it, laying down and pretending to sleep. Just close your eyes, the dragon still roars. He can't help but wrap the blanket tightly around him.
Maybe spring will be better. At least, it that warm season, his frostbite will be better, and he wouldn't have to be woken up by rusty windows every night and have to close them again.
"If I can become a warrior, will I be able to defeat those evil dragons?"
"Then I will become a true warrior."
Little 1562 thinks this in his heart. He has never wished for something like this.
At that time, he didn't know that such thoughts were called wishes.
In a daze, he falls asleep again. In his dream, he becomes a real warrior. he defeats the dragon, shattering the invisible darkness, and escapes from the castle. The sun rises slowly outside the window, and the warm sunlight shines on the shabby little bed, climbing onto the boy's cheek little by little, and seemingly illuminating his dreams.
There are sweet clouds in his dream, the world is warm, and it feels soft when one lies down on it. There are no hideous bloodstains or sharp needles. Countless flower stay facing the sun, glowing with a brilliant luster. He looks at it for a long time, then nestles into the flowers, and seemingly turns into a flower facing the sun.
He smiles faintly in his sleep. The weather seems to be getting warmer today--
Spring is coming.
[END]
——*:・゚✧——*:・゚✧——
Date: Coming soon
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bestboysaiki · 8 months
Text
BUCKET LIST ☆ 05
Your brittle nails are picking at your cracked knuckles, trying to calm yourself down when your doctor comes back with your blood tests.
"I mean, you're doing well but I'm scared you'll bleed intensely one day" She explains, pulling the tip of the pen across the stack of papers in her hand.
"If I die because of that, will it be painful?"
"Obviously".
You shoot her a dirty look, shrugging your shoulders.
"Okay? Not so bad then".
So she gives you extra supplements again, and she tells you the same things she told you about a month ago.
To eat your fruits and vegetables, and to take vitamins twice a day. All this is beginning to irritate you but what could you do? Not follow your doctor's instructions and suffer? Yeah right, you still have bigger things to do.
You start thinking about Saiki, Kaidou and Nendou. Along with all the other friends you made the past two months and even though it's been a short time, you truly felt at ease with them.
For the time being you decide to still not tell them just in case they begin treating you differently. Even though Kaidou has already been treating you like a kid, you did not want it to spread to your friends.
You leave the building, calling Aren's number and tapping your foot anxiously against the cement.
"Hey kid" His voice booms into your ear, and you roll your eyes playfully as if he could see you.
"Pick me up?"
"Be right there".
Saiki is not excited about the occasion about to occur in his quiet household. His parents had left to go see a concert. Seriously, did they not think about him and how he is going to be tormented by you when you came over?
The teacher had allowed Saiki to basically use your list as his, it’s like she doesn't even care about the actual assignment. She just wants an excuse to not teach for the next 5 months. Although, she did mention that you had to document such a project in either paper or video tapes.
Whatever, Saiki thinks. It won’t be too bad, plus Y/n hasn’t been too bad the past few days.
Once he hears the doorbell ring, he has to compose himself in order to not start treating you as if you are a pest. Plus, he knows you hate being a burden. I mean, hiding your condition when you’re clearly not okay? He often sees you as a people pleaser in a way, but not in a negative light. More like you hate to make people upset but you don’t exactly let people walk all over you either.
He opens the door to your tired self, your dry hand clinging onto a grocery bag with all sorts of baking items. You wave at him with a huge grin, letting yourself in and placing the bag in Saiki’s arms without asking.
“No manners still, I see” He shakes his head in disapproval, watching you take your shoes off and sliding over the clean wood towards the kitchen.
“Whatever Ku, yo your floor is pretty slick, you clean?” You peep your head into the fridge, grabbing the icecream drumsticks from Saiki’s arms and putting them into the freezer. He shakes his head again. “Actually my mom did it so .. can we just get this over with?”.
He dumps the items on the counter, except for the eggs because that would be a disaster. He hates disasters, which is ironic since his whole life has been disastrous. Especially since you came into the picture. He glances over at you and sees that you are already opening cabinets, your sticky hands grasping the necessary objects for the baking session.
Saiki comes up behind you, his sudden voice making you jolt. “You bake? You seem to know what you’re doing”. You shake your hand side to side, indicating that you don’t even know much. “I just use box mixes, so it’s nothing much” You explain, walking over to the oven and going, “Huh?”.
“Never seen an oven before?” Saiki asks you, but only this time he sounds actually serious. You follow his fingers as he pushes buttons to start preheating the oven. You shoot him a look of amusement, an annoying “Ahem” coming out of you.
“What is it now?”
“You’ve baked before?”
“Maybe”.
“So that’s a yes”
“It’s a maybe”.
You peer into the recipe book that you had stored away in your house closet, the dust making you and Saiki sneeze. “Bless you” You both say in unison, and with a smile you giggle at him. He’s not mildly delighted, but you could tell he found it funny by the way he scrunches up his nose. Silence falls upon you both as you read the recipe together, his hand holding up the right side of the book. While your fingers crinkled the thin pages on the left book cover. Your eyes follow to his hands, to his arm and then to his eyes. Complete focus is strained in his eyes and you realize that he is actually taking this seriously.
You give your head a little smack, picking up the recipe where you left off. He nods, dropping the book which catches you off guard and you struggle a bit to pick it up.
Saiki hands you a metal bowl, and you begin the first part of the recipe without his assistance. Which makes him think that maybe you're not so stupid after all. He stirs the second set of the ingredients. Fifteen minutes fly by, the whisking hurting your arm and you're actually terrified you might pass out from how fatigued you are. Fainting in front of your classmate who couldn't care less? Embarassing.
As your whisking slows down, it catches Saiki's attention and he decides to read your thoughts for insight.
Okay so they're tired annnd … Ok I know I'm harsh but I'm not too bad to not care if they faint.
He finishes up his bowl and decides to combine yours and his ingredients as said in the scrunched up book. Your gaze is totally set on the coffee jelly machine sitting on the dining table, your whisking coming to halt. He slowly grabs the bowl from you and begins completing the dough.
"I got it on sale, supposedly" He announces to you, glancing at you and realizing your eyes are glimmering with curiosity. He decides to tell you no immediately.
"No, we can't make coffee jelly". Your shoulders slump in defeat, pouting like a little kid being denied ice cream. You did act like a kid sometimes and that somehow gave Saiki comfort. Seeing his childhood was full of chaos after another, he felt warm whenever you show your childish traits.
Except for your whining, of course.
"Just put the dough in balls, like this" Saiki instructs you, your wandering hands realizing Saiki took your whisk. You follow his steps, your dough balls coming out lumpier than expected.
"Jeez Saiki, you could be on that British baking show!" You babble. "With your skills you could totally be like .. second place!"
Saiki shoots you an annoyed look, setting down the last dough on the parchment paper. "You're over here praising me about my skills and you say I could only win second?"
"Yeah! Second is good too, I always thought its just as good as first" You explain, giving him a smile and powdering his nose with flour.
He blinks at you, throwing a handful of flour to your face. The cloud of sprinkling white attacks your face and hair. Huffing out, the remaining flour on your mouth reaches Saiki's face.
His face remains stoic, a sigh falling from his lips as he sticks the pan inside the hot oven. You giggle when he faces you again, his fingers scraping at his face to clean it off.
Wetting a paper towel, you gingerly drag the wetness across his cheek. Collecting the flour off his face, Saiki's brows knit together. Lightly grabbing your wrist, he pushes it down to your side.
"Don't touch me, hmf" He drops your wrist, your face softening in expression. "Okay, yeah". You look over his shoulder to see there is about forty minutes to kill until the cookies are fully baked.
You both sit on the couch, your bottom on the edge of the couch's end as Saiki made it clear he wants you far from him. Therefore, you simply just granted his wish.
Finally after prickling moments of static noise, because the television is not working so well at the moment, you get up.
Planting your feet in front of Saiki and your hands behind your back, you try to form your sentence before he stops you.
Which he does.
He gets up and is a little too close to you for his comfort, but he just shakes his head.
"Whatever you're thinking, I am thinking the answer is no" He promises, pushing your shoulder with his index finger. You lean closer with a stupid grin spread across your face.
"Go out with me".
Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone else, that was the worst thing you could ever do in a boy's house. Especially when said boy has no actual interest in you as a friend or even simply a human.
You both play with your hands as you awkwardly sit on opposite sides of the couch. You cringe at the past occurence that just happened, the way Saiki's face turned more bored. The way he shook his head and said "Never, even if you're the last person in this life, no".
Plus, your even cringier response to that really put the icing on the cake. "In your next life I'll be your first date". Which made Saiki study your failed attempt at asking him out, and he still said no.
So there you are, waiting for the oven to ding and it's been like what? Thirty five minutes and you had about five more to go.
"My bucket list" You start off, your fingers tangling themselves as you nervously chew your lip. Saiki just hums, indicating he hears you and that you should continue before he ignores you again.
"Drive in movie, like a date, thats what I meant" You choke on your spit, coughing it up but Saiki seems to be deep in thought.
Ugh movies are a pain, people think too much during them so it'll be boring. Although ..
He turns to you, a ding setting off in the background but pretends he doesn't hear it.
I guess I can put on my germanium ring to avoid spoilers but .. why are their thoughts so frazzled?
He's referring to your thoughts, he can pick out your rushed sentences such as "Shit, wait if Saiki actually hates me", "He'll reject this oh man oh man".
He exhales deeply, knowing what he has to do.
"I'll go out with you".
Your eyes light up, scooting closer to him but he backs up.
"Not a date, got it?"
You nod, skipping away to the kitchen while singing. "If our loveee is tragedy why are you my remedyyy?". He groans quietly, a small smile creeping up on his face but he dismisses it.
They're such a kid, I mean jeez how old is that song?
Happily taking the cookies out of the oven, you share about four cookies between you and Saiki. With that, you also take out the ice cream you had bought for you both. You go ranting about kangaroos, and how inside their pouches aren't actually fluffy. Saiki couldn't help but stare at the vanilla collecting at the ends of your mouth. Though, he finds it endearing.
Saiki just nods, munching on the warm cookies and leaning against the counter.
Day one with Y/n, check.
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cinnamonest · 1 year
Note
This is by far my favourite genshin yan blog, the way you write the characters are so like how i picture them! My question is, of all the mortal genshin boys, other than Razor, which do you see as the top handful of yans being most mentally determined to find you and bring you home if you managed to escape, even across the continent? Like, the LEAST willing to just give up eventually and find a new darling?
Uwahh ty anon <3
I like that you had to specify “other than Razor” lol
Obviously all are gonna be rather determined to find you again, but some in particular that come to mind:
-----
Ayato keeps a fairly humble exterior, but in truth, he has a sense of pride, and when that pride is wounded, it’s not something he can easily forgive.
Of course, he has quite a large amount of resources at his disposal, so he'll likely be able to find you rather quickly, in which case you'll get the cold treatment and quite a firm talking-to, after which the matter will be let go of, albeit gradually. Still, it won't be treated as that big of a deal.
Not that he isn’t attached to you, of course, but that pridefulness is a large part of his motivation in tracking you down. It’s not just ‘how could you leave me,’ but it’s more ‘how dare you leave me.’ It’s offense, anger, bitterness. You don’t get to do that. He’s not about to take such an insult without putting every resource he has at his disposal into correcting what he feels to be a transgression against him.
If, on the other hand, even all the subordinates he has on hand can't find you within a day or so, then it becomes a bigger issue. He initially had a few people sent out to retrieve you, but in this case, he'll instead direct all of the staff he has available to do so.
Over time, though, the longer you stay unfound, the more he begins to lose composure. Becomes more irritable, less emotionally stable, begins to uncharacteristically snap at people and lose his temper. Which he realizes and is self-aware of, often stopping and catching himself mid-sentence and forcing himself to calm down... the realization that he's acting so unusually undignified just drives him to put that much more effort in.
Which is also why, by the time you are finally found, it's far from a warm welcome home. You're treated with a rather cold demeanor, narrowed eyes downcast to look at you with disdain. He treats it as quite the offense, which is why you'll never be given such an opportunity again... and frankly, in part due to the fact that he's worried of what would become of his sanity if that were to ever occur again.
-----
Tighnari is a bit sad to witness, really. It’s yet another instance of the whole “mate for life” thing drives him to find you at all costs, his brain is hardwired to have a ‘one and only’ in a way a human’s brain is not. Life ceases to feel worthwhile, nothing else seems to be of any importance. He’ll forget to eat and sleep.
His mental state will gradually deteriorate the longer you’re gone. It's not a matter of logical reasoning that he's likely to find you, and while despair and longing is certainly a major element in it all, that's still not the root cause. It's a sense of wrongness. His brain is constantly alerting him to a sense of something being wrong and needing immediate resolution, an instinct that's subconscious rather than conscious, like pain or hunger, a sensation that is hardwired into the brain and will not go away until the issue is fixed.
People feel a lot of pity for him. He doesn't eat much, doesn't sleep. He'll go out into the forest, aimlessly wandering around, as if expecting to find something. Constantly searching, often to the point he's at the brink of collapse from exhaustion. He takes trips out into the city, to the desert, everywhere he can think of.
He also, probably more so than any other listed here, undergoes personality change, in which he essentially gradually becomes a hollow shell. Rarely speaks. All his movements become slow and lethargic, he walks around with glazed-over eyes staring out into nothing. It's such an innate instinct, he's essentially incapable of functioning normally, his very body begins to shut down out of grief as he becomes emaciated and dull-eyed.
That being said, pitiful as it is, and as tempted as you may be to feel bad for him, that also means it will be extremely unfortunate for you if you were ever found again. The experience leaves him utterly traumatized, to the extent that if you're found, you can be absolutely certain that you will never have the opportunity to leave ever again, regardless of how extreme the measure to ensure it may be.
-----
Childe is similar to Ayato in that it's partially a pride matter, but it's not a matter of that pride being offended by you running off, so much as it is maintaining it by being able to get you back. That is, he won't see your running off as a slight against him or hold a grudge, but he stakes his confidence in being able to hunt you down with ease.
Far more importantly, however, he likes the challenge of it. It's part of who he is in general, he's the sort of boy that if you say "there's no way you can do that" or the like, it will suddenly become his utmost imperative to do exact the thing in question and not stop until he has accomplished proving you wrong. It's practically compulsive, he has to prove that he is capable of whatever he decides to do, and the thought of being wrong and thus incapable is infuriating. Likewise, you running off is essentially an indirect way of you presenting a challenge to him. How could he ever just sit back and let you go, or not put full effort into finding you?
His attitude changes a bit, though, depending on the duration of time consumed. For the first little while, he treats it sort of like a game, has fun with the whole matter. He doesn't even seem all that upset that you've gotten out; if anything, he's almost excited by it.
Once you've disappeared for some time, though, and he begins to feel like he actually might not be able to find you, that you might get away, his attitude changes. Now he's actually getting nervous, and more importantly, the fact that you successfully hid from him for such a duration of time is... irritating. Basically you getting one over on him, and it feels like you're mocking him... in his head he can practically see you being all smug about it. Makes him grind his teeth, clench his fists.
The angrier he gets, the more frantic and desperate he gets with his search. Normally, he'll be slower about it, likes to see you squirm and finds it cute to see how you will try to hide away somewhere, so he likes to give you enough time to make it to potential "help" and all that, just to see you despair when it all falls apart anyway. But on the rare occasion you hide a little too well, and suddenly he actually can't find you, then it's a problem, and he'll be far stricter and harsher with his searching, and far more emotionally volatile to those around him.
Eventually this can become too much. If it takes too long and he genuinely panics, he'll even drop the usual snarky demeanor after finally finding you, too upset to even mock you, entirely focused on anger and prioritizing taking you back. So if you're finally found, but he's uncharacteristically quiet and cold, it's not a good sign for your immediate future.
-----
Heizou... well, he thinks he can find you, so he sets his mind to it.
He's a much more mentally stable yandere than most, but when it comes to you disappearing, when the situation arises, he has to calm himself down and remind himself that this is basically his specialty, is it not? He's been on plenty of missing persons cases before. He just needs to apply the same methodology he would use for those.
Of course, his personal emotions do get in the way of his efficiency. Due to being very lucid and all, his primary feeling in the moment is intense paranoia and panic that you're going to go to law enforcement. The first thing he does, actually, is head to the station himself, thinking he might catch you there if that is where you decided to go... but then again, you'd probably not do that for obvious reasons. In which case...
He has to calm himself down, but putting his mind to work helps with that process. He goes about it just as he would with anything else, making a mental list of possibilities, narrowing it down and prioritizing the most likely of those possibilities, then gradually begins checking each and using process of elimination. He has to keep his mind distracted, treat it like a case, or else he knows he's going to break down.
But in terms of dedication, he can keep it up for a very, very long time, and puts in every ounce of effort he has, everything he's learned over his years, into seeing it through. This, too, is largely about his own sanity. He focuses his entire mental energy into treating it like a case because he knows he'll fall apart if he doesn't, and thus, he's incredibly dedicated. He has to keep focusing on it, not take his mind off of it. The moment he begins to let himself despair, he'll give into paranoia, and quite possibly fully lose his mind.
Thus, in a way, continuing searching is what keeps him sane. If he stops, he'll be constantly paranoid, constantly panicked, but at least searching for you gives his brain a faux sense of progress, which calms him down... although, given enough time without success, that coping method might start to fail too...
-----
Although what is perhaps the absolute worst isn't immortal nor in any particularly notable position of power.
Kaeya is driven by a lot of things. Love, sure, it's part of it.
But primarily, above all else, when he comes home one day to an empty room, he goes through a few stages. First panic, grief, you know, the expected emotions, the whole process of frantically checking around for you, slowly coming to terms with reality. He then falls into a deep depression, lasting around two or three days, drinks himself to the point of unconsciousness at least twice over.
And then, when he wakes up slumped onto the couch, head pounding and dizzy, staring up at the ceiling, the hurt is quickly overridden by a new sentiment: pure, unadulterated spite.
It's no secret to you, after living with him for so long, that despite the exterior, he's not exactly the most emotionally stable person in the world, that he has quite his fair share of unresolved psychological issues.
It's a bit different from the pridefulness of precious entries. It's an extension of pride, tied to it, but it's more... malicious. Vengeful. Driven by a desire not just to get you back out of love, nor out of desire to restore a sense of pride, but because getting you back is the only way he can ensure you suffer.
Which is why you probably should have known better. You're just inviting the potential consequences. And that spite is one hell of a motivator.
Day in, day out. He takes time away from work, comes up with an excuse about an emergency that must be dealt with. Uses any and every resource at his disposal. Embezzles funds before he departs if necessary.
You think you can just get up and walk off. After everything he's done for you? No, no, you don't get to do that to him. You're not allowed to do that, you don't get to get away with that. It's a bitter, seething feeling, but that sensation just drives him to work harder. It can be easily utilized and converted into energy and dedication, like fuel to an engine.
He doesn't really have any limits to what he's willing to do, either. Unlike some that would still maintain their ethics, if threatening or hurting people is necessary to get information, it's not something he'll hesitate to do.
He may not have what others have — underlings at his command, the animal senses, the professional investigative background, the unlimited lifespan of time, or any of the other advantages that everyone else listed here has — but he gets the top ranking here purely by merit of relentless, boundless, unhinged determination. And, of course, unhesitating use of extreme measures and remarkable willingness for violence doesn't hurt. Quite the force to be reckoned with, and you really don't want to be on the receiving end of the vengefulness fueling it all... not that you have much of a choice, as you will be found eventually, no matter how far.
And yet, despite how unlikely it is, somehow, you know. When you come back one day and notice the lights are all out and door hanging open, you feel dread. When you walk in to a quiet, dark room, walk around the home with trembling footsteps, come to a halt and feel your eyes go wide as you look down to some indistinguishable shapes lying on the floor, you know immediately. Without having to think, without having to wonder, without any clues to go on. You just immediately, instinctively know. Even before you feel a presence right behind you, even before you slowly turn your head over your shoulder...
And you did, in fact, manage to get pretty far. Found some nice people that let you stay with them. How nice of them.
For most people, it would seem like you were in the clear, and even now, whenever you get paranoid, look around with nervous eyes in public and all, people tell you you're letting it get to your head, that there's nothing to worry about. But you can't shake the feeling.
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paper--moons · 1 month
Text
Regressor!Hanzo Headcanons
(with CG!Cole)
Tumblr media
When there is a lot going on in the world, things in your personal life often feel lesser. Easier to push aside or ignore. Especially if you have some sort of personal stake in the events swallowing up the world, some part to play that's much bigger than you are—meaning it's easy to get swallowed up yourself. This sort of mindset is exactly how Hanzo operates. Focus on the big picture and shove aside the finer details if you must, but always keep them within your grasp. Be aware of everything and everyone except for yourself, because you're only a small part of the equation. That's what it's like in the loud, explosive moments at least. But at the end of the day, what's left? Splinters of what he could have done, should have done, yet did not. Personal failings and all consuming guilt. Giving and giving to atone and it never feeling like enough. Until all that's left is a very small feeling that's harder to ignore. Much harder than other things he can brush aside, despite the inherent softness that seems to come with the feeling. There's not much he can do for it besides attempt to sleep it off, but once finding that the feeling can linger even after a bit of sleep does he start to grow concerned. Hanzo is used to ignoring his own needs after ten years of self-dictated exile and punishment, has ignored things like broken bones if needed, but this? This was some sort of liability, that much he could gather. And despite being a part of the newly reformed Overwatch and being presented with a frankly disgusting amount of team building, it is still difficult to admit that he might need some sort of help.
However, his practicality wins out over his pride. After all, he can't keep doing what he needs to if this odd feeling keeps burbling up from some strange well within him. Which means he (reluctantly) finds himself setting up an appointment with Dr. Ziegler in hopes that she knows how to straighten out whatever it is that keeps happening to him. She is patient with him as he awkwardly stumbles through describing what he's been experiencing, noting down things on occasion and asking supplementary questions as if to ease his discomfort—Is there ever any dizziness? And about how long would you say these feelings persist? How often do they occur?—until she seemingly reaches a conclusion and hums in understanding as she begins making notes on his chart. Lots of notes. Hanzo tries not to let his anxiety show, though he cannot stop himself from picking at his nails as he demands to know why. Why does he keep feeling so lost? Why does it seem to lower basic skills such as his hand-eye coordination? Why does it always seem to happen when he's left to his own thoughts? Why does it feel like his world shrinks and the only way to make it feel better is to tuck himself up under his blankets? If it's something like depression he's been on medication before, he'll start taking it again if it will just make all the confusing feelings—the inescapable small feelings—stop. The more he asks the more worked up he becomes until suddenly he realizes that the small feeling is happening now and Dr. Ziegler must be able to see it because she's looking at him with a gentle expression that he can't quite place but wants to be mad at but no, actually needs it enough that it scares him...
And when the small feeling says run, he does. Bolts right for the door of the infirmary. It is far from his most graceful escape—very far from it in fact, because he doesn't get five feet down the hallway before he's running smack dab into Cole. It's about then that the annoying loss of coordination and balance really kicks in and he finds himself falling back onto his bottom with a thud. Which in turn reminds his brain to turn on that increased sensitivity he's been experiencing too as his breathing hitches and tears cloud his vision. He can hear Dr. Ziegler behind him, can hear her and Cole discussing something but it's too hard to focus on the words when he's focusing on not crying. Biting his lip and holding his breath to stop the embarrassing hiccups, scrunching his eyes tightly shut when it doesn't feel like enough. It isn't sustainable of course, but the small feeling says it is. That it'll make everything bad and scary stop if he shuts it all out. Until a different voice of reason cuts in, deep and soothing as it croons Didn't mean to spook ya, c'mon honey just breathe for me… There is a little more coaxing, and a hand is placed on his chest (on top of his own, he realizes, gingerly pulling it down and away from where he was beginning to scratch at his throat). The physical contact gets him to open his eyes again, only to find Cole crouched down next to him looking extremely concerned. Calloused thumb rubbing soothing circles on his hand, voice gentle as he instructs him to breathe. For whatever reason Hanzo feels compelled to listen, finally allowing himself the hiccups from before as Cole helps him to his feet and steers him back to the infirmary. Cole and Angela speak in hushed tones for a moment before she tells him he has to let Cole go now, and he reluctantly releases the hand he didn’t know he was still clutching.
Hanzo only belatedly realizes that he has allowed not only one, but two people to see him when he’s regressed (a term that Angela explains as soon as she determines that he is settled and not about to run off again). It is confusing, not to mention unwanted. Especially when she tells him she is temporarily suspending him from missions until he has found a way to manage it a bit better (after all, it isn’t exactly conducive to have the team’s sniper drop at, well…the drop of a hat, so to speak). Worst of all she tells him it would be best to explore his smallspace, highly recommends it even because she knows he otherwise would interpret “managing it” as “repressing it”, which is how he got here according to her—and that a big break was coming if he didn’t. She sends him on his way with instructions to go rest while she works on gathering some resources for him, but doesn’t let him leave until he picks out a sucker from the candy jar that he usually would ignore. But today is different, and the Sour Apple Dum Dum calls to him. As he steps out into the hallway once more and struggles to get the wrapper off with a small whine, the candy is gently plucked from his grasp. Cole unwraps it and passes it back over with a smile before kicking off of the wall by the door where he had apparently been waiting. He says surprisingly little as he makes sure Hanzo gets back to his room without further incident, and the company is much appreciated. And when they finally make it to his room, Cole tells him to come get him if he needs anything, that nothing is a bother. All Hanzo can muster is a quiet okay before letting the loneliness of his bedroom swallow him up.
After that first encounter, Cole seems to make it his personal mission to keep an eye on Hanzo. Even when he has to go off on some mission or another, he has taken to bringing him back small gifts. He has the forethought to be discreet, always leaving them in front of his door in a simple box, for which Hanzo is grateful. Genji keeps teasing him that he has a secret admirer after noticing one of the boxes, but he isn’t quite ready to tell his little brother that the boxes mostly comprise of stuffed toys and sweets. The repeated gesture, along with the genuineness behind it, is enough to make him reconsider Angela’s suggestion of finding a caregiver that he can trust (just one of the many suggestions in the rather lengthy packet she had sent for him explaining the ins and outs of regression). And the more he considers it, the more he likes the idea; there are many qualities about Cole that he respects despite their differences, and they've gotten close enough in their downtime that he has come to trust him. Moreover, Cole seemed okay with the whole idea. The way he had spoken to him that first time stuck with Hanzo, and lately whenever he was feeling small he found himself craving that tenderness. But he has never been one to ask for what he wants, and so he begins to implement the patented Cat MethodTM. Meaning that Cole suddenly has a pair of eyes on him at all times, with Hanzo occasionally bridging the gap and moving in closer. Simple things like making sure he gets to sit next to Cole in the lounge and sharing a lot more personal space with him than anyone else is allowed. It’s painfully obvious that he wants something to anyone that knows how Hanzo operates, and because Cole knows how he operates he picks up on it right away. If he had to wager a guess, it had something to do with that small side of his; after all, he has been leaving him little gifts to let him know that it’s okay (so it’s a pretty safe bet).
While Hanzo cannot bring himself to outright ask Cole about being his cg, their next hangout has a definite slant to it. Not that Cole minds. If anything he finds it kind of endearing. Usually he is so straightforward, so to have him go about something in a roundabout sort of way piques his interest. And Cole is nothing if not patient, going at the speed that Hanzo needs—letting him take his time as he thanks him for helping him the other day, and asking if he might be willing to help him go over a few things. It is the closest he can come to asking what he actually wants to if the pink heat rising in his face is any indication; for his part Cole readily agrees, testing the waters by letting another pet name slip to see how he responds. Gently pushing as he tells him Sure thing, sugarbee. Whatever yer little heart desires. He half expects Hanzo to push back, but instead he finds that he doesn’t so much lean into it as he does melt into it. Even as he starts to slip into that softer mindset, there are noticeable changes. His body is always wound so tightly—posture rigid, jaw clenched, every part of him tense, tense, tense—so when he begins to relax? It's visible that he's feeling smaller. With that relaxation comes a tentative openness. Hanzo is more responsive as Cole steers the conversation towards things that are easier and encourage his smaller side. Asking him if he's picked out a favorite stuffie yet, and could he go get them? They're certain to provide valuable insight into their conversation, dontcha think? And what's their name? Oh, well he's absolutely delighted to make their acquaintance! The encouragement is simple, yet effective. Twenty minutes later sees Hanzo knelt in front of the coffee table, carefully lining up all of the stuffies Cole has gotten for him (ten so far!) and shyly telling him what he has named each one and why (because he has reasons!). Maybe it’s the way Cole nods along or perhaps the silly yet sincere comments he makes, but something about the whole thing makes Hanzo feel lighter. Lighter than he has felt…ever, really.
Moving forward, things only continue to get easier. While they still hang out as they would before, Cole now knows to be on the lookout for a tug at his sleeve that expresses the silent need for something more. There is a lot of exploration of the space for both of them; while this is far from Cole’s first rodeo when it comes to caregiving, he knows that it is important to keep his regressor in mind. And for his part, Hanzo only really explores his smallspace with Cole there to help guide him and provide a sense of safety he never truly felt in his childhood. He has a lot of trouble being comfortable when he's small if alone, and any attempt to indulge in his headspace is half-hearted. There's just so much he is unsure about, having had to grow up so fast. But Cole doesn't judge him, only nudges him in the right direction. The right direction often being smaller than Hanzo would like to admit; once he had accepted that he regressed, he was so certain his little age was somewhere around eight. But Cole promises he can be as small as he needs, which turns out to be somewhere in the range of baby to toddler once he feels out the space more and figures things out. And he figures out rather quickly that being cared for makes him feel so much lighter. That lighter, weightless feeling even begins to carry over from the time he spends regressed and into his day-to-day life. While the world and his past actions will always weigh on him heavily, it is an incredible relief to finally have a healthy way to alleviate that weight if only for a short time.
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kamesama · 4 months
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— match-up trade: jjk.
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for @anni-is-here › match-up trades › hello !! thank you for reaching out to me, i had fun writing this <3 i hope this will be to your liking; i was torn here and there but ultimately certain details won me over. anyway . . .
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your match: fushiguro megumi.
rainfall, arriving quietly; prolonged rumble of thunder. leather boots with edge to them. band t-shirts. concerned looks. 'get some rest' text messages in the late hours. ice cream. questionable reputation. sharp glares. shivers down the spine followed by goosebumps. profound understanding. weightlessness upon the tongue after finally uttering a heavy word. anchors and brakes. raised brows. 'paint it, black' by the rolling stones. deep wonders of water and wondrous possibilities of sun-kissed earth. sizzle of fire devouring the wood; growing bigger, bigger, bigger. a hand on your shoulder. tongue tied silences. leather bracelets; matching. blunt reminders and harsh truths spoken with the best intentions. tough love. a hug softening the edge of sharp words. cracking knuckles.
fushiguro megumi might furrow his brows at the bold, eager encouragement of violence. that doesn't mean he has much against it, however. he has his own bruise-filled stories; pearls hidden deep within an oyster of his life. megumi doesn't mind the bluntness, dryness or sarcasm; god knows he comes off as arid more often than not. in those regards, he is more than ready to accept you as you are without leaving much wiggle room for misunderstandings. it takes a great deal to leave him wounded. unnerved, though? that's a different story. perhaps your bond can be a little rough around the edges here and there; your similarities stick close and then part ways in the most unusual of spots, but your character demands a certain dose of respect that fushiguro can offer.
he might consider you a wild one, with the way you will utter that a fence seems to be begging you to climb over it, only to see those very words come true within seconds. however, it is exactly this sincerity to yourself that earns his admiration. your strengths and capabilities are very much noted. in addition, your moral values fill the same basket — more or less. megumi is not the most humanitarian and there are various shades of grey in his moral spectrum, but when he cares, it's the real deal. whilst fushiguro is not as keen to solve issues with the might of his fist, he most certainly doesn't claim that violence is not the answer. he might not let you ram headfirst into a fight, but you will receive understanding from him. in fact, he might as well approach you with a desire to spar and practice. that being said, the two of you scream quality time.
it's a slow but fluid sort of relationship; not the type in which sparks fly and hearts flutter. it's the acknowledgement of one another's strength and experiencing the intimacy of expressing warmth to one another. it's developing your own language because both of you find it hard to put emotions on your tongue and spit them out; they never look too well wearing the label of words. it's a struggle, but worth wiggling through. it's acceptance of cold, sharp edges and shadows. it's devotion and protection of that gleeful goofiness that peeks its head out in the moments of comfort and trust. it's knowing that your vulnerable secret is safe in the hands of the other; it will not fall out of the grip. it will not shatter.
and it's the little things; megumi reminds you to stop chewing your lips. at some point, he places his hand on your knee to stop it from bouncing; or at least to nudge you to loosen up. the chat logs contain a reminder to rest well every now and then. there is a touch of domesticity; casual clothes smelling of laundry detergent and faded perfumes. shirts with worn-out pictures and megumi's chin against the top of your head as thunder roars outside the window — the blinds are pulled up, revealing cloudy sky. a small sarcastic bite in his own words; a joke in the making and the threat of his lips begging to curl upwards.
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other matches: nanami kento. inumaki toge.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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betweenthings2 · 4 months
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feel like 2 (a kiss goodnight) written by you could be really sweet… (or really angsty but pls. pls)
Thank you for the ask and I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this! This is the last kiss prompt in my inbox, and I did my very best to make it not angsty. Hope you enjoy!
A Kiss...Goodnight
George almost always beats Matty to bed. It's not necessarily on purpose, Matty just likes to stay up a little later, his long history of sleep issues making him reluctant to go to bed unless he's actually tired. Tonight is no different. George had announced he was heading to bed and pressed a kiss into Matty's hair where he sat hunched over one of his endless projects, then left. Matty had mumbled a goodnight, but stayed where he was, fixated on getting things exactly right.
Usually, George going to bed cues Matty to go to bed, too, and he's pressed against George no more than an hour later. Often, George is still awake and he'll wrap his arm around Matty and they'll wake up together in the same position. Tonight, though, an hour passes, then another, then most of another, and Matty still isn't in bed. George misses him.
When George is unable to talk himself out of it, he climbs out of bed and goes on a hunt for Matty. He's not in the garden smoking or taking Mayhem out, nor is he in their studio, which are the first two places George always looks for Matty no matter what. He continues his walk through the quiet house until he reaches a space they don't spend much time in. Matty had put a huge couch and projector that he can connect to his laptop to watch films on the whitewashed wall thinking they'd have more film nights than they do, or be more willing to argue with the projector than they ever are.
Now, the projector is showing a history documentary, light from the film illuminating Matty's eyelashes and baby hairs where he's asleep on the couch. Mayhem is laying on the other end of the couch, despite the fact that he's technically not allowed on the furniture. He raises his head slightly when George enters the room, then rests it back on Matty's thigh. Matty doesn't stir. Part of George wishes he hadn't left his phone in the bedroom--he'd very much like to have a picture of this moment, of Matty looking so peaceful--but a bigger part of him is simply pleased to have found Matty.
George goes about turning the projector and Matty's laptop off, then shoos Mayhem down from the couch. He goes, but not without fixing George with big, sad eyes. George offers him a scratch behind the ears as an apology. Then he crouches down in front of Matty and strokes gentle fingers through his curls.
"Matty," he murmurs. "Wake up, love. Come to bed."
Matty seems to redouble his commitment to sleeping and makes no indication that he's heard George.
"C'mon, Matty," George tries again. "Come to bed."
Matty makes a disgruntled noise and mumbles, "'m sleep, G."
George chuckles and ruffles Matty's hair again. "Come to bed, love. You're gonna complain that your back hurts if you stay here."
Matty reluctantly blinks his eyes open and gives George a sleepy glare. "'m not that old," he protests.
"Last time I let you sleep on the sofa, you complained for like a week," George counters, a soft smile still on his face. "C'mon, I can't sleep without you."
Matty huffs, but climbs to his feet and agrees, "Fine, but only 'cause you can't sleep."
"Of course," George agrees, wrapping his arm around Matty's waist.
They head back across the house in quiet, Matty warm from sleep and pressed against George as they walk. The bedroom is dimly lit by the warm glow of the lamp on George's bedside table, and Matty takes only a few moments to shed his sweatpants and t-shirt before climbing into bed and pulling the duvet up to his chin. He looks wonderfully cozy and George can't help but smile at him.
"You're wonderful. I love you," George murmurs, climbing into bed, too.
Matty rolls over and presses his lips to George's in a chaste kiss, and murmurs, "Love you, too. G'night, George."
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hologramcowboy · 1 year
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https://twitter.com/slabiscuit/status/1653858874754056192?s=61&t=kVyYZFyDcANVMAVTMNa5xw
Does this Redit user's account sound authentic to you? To me it somehow reads as inauthentic, but I’m not free of Danneel bias, so I could be wrong.
He went from Dean to Jensen in a blink? 🤣🤣🤣 This is fanfiction. Certain extreme Danneel stans make up all sorts of stories and sometimes even facts to pretend she is worth stanning. This anon doesn't have video or pictures to prove their encounter. It sounds entirely made up and written to make Danneel look good and seem important. If we look at reality, Jensen is always drunk around her, passive-aggressive and often even had outbursts that signal her to chill (like during the live with the morgans where he was so frustrated he yelled out "Calm down!" while they were on camera and even admitted they need therapy).
To answer your question, I don't go by encounters told or invented by her stans, because, often, they are as fake as her and, like her, they will lie to make her look good. (Look at danneel's past interviews and notice all the inconsistencies in her statements)
.I 100% agree with you, this is made up. Celebrities usually have security details when they go to clubs and usually end up sitting in the VIP area, no one can get close without getting cleared by security. The person who wrote that post clearly hasn't been to any relevant clubs since they appear to be clueless about the actual environment. Clubs can be a security risk even for regular people, let alone celebrities. Not that Jensen and Danneel are famous enough but they do have obsessed stans and that can pose a threat. Those creepy stans gushing about their relationship that would follow them around everywhere are potentially a threat.
Also, the person is judging someone's niceness by the fact that supposedly Danneel let her be around her and briefly interacted but brief interactions a nice person do not make. Being a good person goes much, much deeper than putting on 10 pounds of make-up and and greeting people when they greet you. I am astonished on a day to day basis how superficial and out of touch most Jenneel stans are. Just because you greet people doesn't mean you have a beautiful soul and chatting with someone for a couple of minutes will never give you a true insight on how deep, intelligent, capable or special they are. Let's stop making up fanfiction about these figures, they are human just like the people who randomly run into them at events.
As for Jensen, if he truly cared about Danneel he would have focused on making her into the star she wanted to be not limited her to being Mrs. Ackles. Also, if he were truly worried about her safety a security escort would be provided to her. The fact is no one cares about the Ackles outside of a few obsessed SPN fans(I am talking about the extreme ones) so there is no actual threat to Danneel as she is completely irrelevant. She made herself into a victim back then to reinforce the fact that she was with Jensen and get more visibility which translated into more roles. She choose to be in her spot, choose her role, antagonized and bullied people and then played the victim for attention. People are truly clueless if even now they cannot connect what danneel did back then and the motivationa behind it. Her fight with Ted was not about Jensen, it was about having the world recognize she exists. She used Jensen and rode his coattails and still does to this day and he let's her do that because he knows that without the benefits she would drop him. He thinks her toxic way of being is what women are like and that it's his job to keep her appeased. Women like Danneel have no soul, they measure a man by his wallet, connections and what he gives them and he's only useful as long as that keeps on coming. Watch how fast Danneel will divorce him once a bigger fish comes knocking. 🤣
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boyfridged · 10 months
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please do(about marvelposting)
i specifically said i was not going to do marvelposting because frankly speaking, i know very little about marvel apart from "venom" ( and whatever i remember from a ahort time when i read lots of marvel comics, in middle school. then i completely lost any interest in it.)
but! i decided i do want to talk about "spider-verse," both to criticize it a bit and on some level defend it...
the copaganda is unreal and i don't know how people can ignore it. and i don't think the flow of the narration was all that smooth and well executed. that's the 2 main issues i have with it.
now, to where i want to defend the movie, or rather what i think the *next* movie will be about (i might be wrong): utilitarianism sucks.
lots of meta repeatedly states that well, miguel is right given all we (and he) know. but i think (or maybe just hope) that the next movie will go for the most obvious criticism of the trolley problem, which "across the spider-verse" seems to mimic with the whole 2 cakes metaphor: that it doesn't exist. i think perhaps we will find out that the whole algorithm doesn't matter, or it was wrong, or it was a manipulation. and you might think it's a cliche – but i don't think it is. i think it's a good message for our times.
this is a controversial opinion both in this context and in academia, mind you, but i will die on this hill: utilitarianism does not work for ethics. there's no way of calculating a moral decision. there's no way to predict all the facts. and very rarely will you be in a situation of the trolley problem; which essentially means that taking it beyond the thought experiment takes a logic of an exception and applies it to every possible other issue, often assuming scarcity of resources and even encouraging taking life and death decisions where it could be avoided. (think of refugees or the poor, for example: a never-ending political game of assigning arbitrary numbers when talking of the cost and resources, with no genuine source for them, causing an unprecedented amount of death, and all of that assumed as the only right "reality" and a "sacrifice" for the stability.) it's the myth of scarcity, essentially, an excuse not to share the social wealth, here applied to the concept of general ontological goodness. an idea that you cannot afford to be kind because of the bigger picture.
caring about one person, the monologue of peter b. from the previous movie (or was it a cut scene? i don't remember) does not encourage miles to fuck everyone else and leave them to die. it does not promote individualism. it sets a realistic goal and it says that caring for people close to you is the best you can do at times. and there is, of course, the conflict there when you're a vigilante, since vigilantes are put in positions where they have to look at a bigger picture than a normal human would; but a fact remains that coming from a place of genuine love and devotion even to one person/your family/a small community is what sets a precedent for how you treat other people. what builds your character. it's what makes you human and anchors your moral instincts in compassion, what stops you from premature prosecution of other people, what makes you more mindful of intricate social nuance also on a larger scale. so this is what a message of "thinking of one person" is about. it's about a starting point that opens a gateway for considering more.
needless to say, if you're a utilitarian or a strict deontologist, you will not see it my way. but i'm an ethicist of care at heart and i presume this is the direction that the series will be going on. i might be wrong irt the writers' plan but if it is what i described, i believe it's a completely plausible message. morality starts somewhere and it's not algorithms.
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