#(and that's not really the point of this post anyway)
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dunmeshistash · 1 day ago
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@milkbottle8
Making a new post cause that one was pretty long but It is indeed the anthro stuff from her blog! Here's some of it, I think the chibis are the most "furry-like"
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Izutsumi is also a furry in the sense she's covered in fur and the whole kobold race is too but I mostly think Kui draws kemonomimis (animal ears) and monster girls, I wouldn't count these as furry but maybe some people do (It's a bit of a grey area to me, since mostly the human parts and animal parts have a clear divide)
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I don't think I'd call Kui a furry (unless she self IDs as one) (edit: I've heard she said she was a Furry in highschool on a blog post before so maybe she did more furry art back then other than the ones we know about) (edit 2: @room-surprise also reminded me she makes a joke about the subculture in the werewolf extra when Laios mentions "putting on a pair of ears and calling yourself a beastmen" so that's another thing pointing out that she used to be a furry at the very least) to me Kui reads more as someone who loves to draw animals/creatures (think of the meme of when a furry draws a dog, I'd say Kui is the opposite, when a creature artists draws a furry)
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Anyway I guess it depends on what you call being a furry! She def likes anthro either way, she puts way more effort into drawing creatures than in drawing humans, you can really see it in her older art, most of the humans were pretty much nondescript.
Honestly the cover for seven little sons of the dragon says it all, look at the amount of detail on the creatures compared to the girl, even the fish.
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sheeezu · 2 days ago
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Things to expect when you've mastered shifting
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This isn't the normal "oh you'll feel on top the world" kind of post which just hypes up everything and the sole purpose is to motivate. This is (???) the logistics, the indepth version of what you'll face psychologically.
I've shifted close to about a hundred times, whether it was from this reality, or shifting within a reality I shifted.
This is all from my personal experience, you might experience differently.
⋆ Disassociation: when you shift back to your original reality, you'll often times confuse both reality's memory, of course, we all know this, doesn't matter if you shifted or not. But what I've seen no one talk about is that sometimes events and certain objects from your DR will unintentionally manifest into your CR, just because of how deeply rooted they become in your subconscious. For example, I had maybe mentioned this somewhere else, but in my DR I had scripted expensive china cups, which broke on my second day being there. Well two weeks ago my family was gifted the same teacups (some details were off) and one of them managed to get a crack in them after we served the guests tea in it.
⋆ Weird Dreams: Not only is the concept of the dreams weird, but overall mechanics of it are unusual as well (I didn't shift unconsciously in my dreams, that's one boundary I've established)
For example, dreams with people claiming to know the future, telling me, and it coming true the next day, but it being minor details, people from my DRs channeling me, dreams which involves falling out of reality/finding the end of the multiverse.
Dreams which involves me floating, strong winds which blow away entirely of the void reality (CR), I had started getting this dream since I've wanted to permashift, the wind is so strong and I feel it, I'm usually at my college and or doing a mundane activity in my current reality, everything dissapears and I end up in the void state for the rest of the night.
Once my S/O visited me in my dream, he asked me to come back home, it was a lucid dream so I consciously agreed because I couldn't deny him; ended up in my home reality.
⋆ Feeling weirdly sad about your CR: this one might be personal to me. truth be told, I haven't studied a single day since I've successfully shifted. This year all of my classmates and age fellows are going to start looking at university applications, the ones they mention are usually universities I used to dream all day long about getting into, when I didn't know about shifting. It forms a pit in my heart, the passion I once used to have regarding hardwork by investing blood sweat tears into studying, pinterest board filled with quotes such as "some dreams are worth more than my sleep" not stirring anything within me. It's not that I think I can't get these things, i know i can just shift to a parallel reality and get it, but I just don't want to, I don't feel the same about this reality anymore, slowly letting it go, no matter how much I try to cling onto it, I know I was never meant to be here.
⋆ Personality changes: When you become an expert at shifting its no question that you'd shift very frequently. Those DR selfs would influence your personality, and people can think you're developing a split personality disorder.
Take me as an example, if you look at the posts on my blog, you'd notice a different tone in each one of them, some are in a more softer tone and the others feel clinical.
⋆ Putting your DR family first, even though they're not here: I don't know how to explain this one, so I'd just take an example out of my own experience again.
I was out shopping with my mother for sweaters, the ones we were coming across were really good quality, but I could only think of my S/O, she was pointing out the things she thought I'd like, but I kept looking at the men's sweater, subconsciously trying to pick one out for him, which weirded my mother out slightly.
...
Why am I crying.
Anyways I have planned to permashift out of this reality before new year, it was my childhood dream to blog, but I was too shy to do so and never had anything common with anyone. But I've finally completed the final thing on my list, alongside with meeting my cousin who I adored, I decided to add her to my DR.
That's it, I'll go on and answer the 50 asks in my inbox.
...
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monsterhospital · 2 days ago
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Oh the happiness everybody wants to be me friend :)
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tazcrosblade · 2 days ago
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I don't really know how to post this without sounding like a boot licker for the artificial intelligence, but here's my take on it. AI isn't going to really do anything for you that you couldn't do yourself. It doesn't have any access to information on the internet, in books, or in self-help books, that you couldn't also get access to. So in a way
number one: the AI provides a way to search and consolidate information that has become increasingly hard to do (try googling anything these days and all you get is AI generated results anyways).
Number 2: the ai, the internet, even Tumblr are just tools that you could use to find answers. Obviously if you're in a Mental Health situation, using AI rather than seeking professional help can be dangerous. Treating it like the be all end all of answers, especially for things like health or mental health, is so naive as to border on st*pid.
Number 3: you only get out of the AI what you put in, if you ask it for help it's just going to give you generic answers. But if you know how to use the AI as a tool, it can be useful.
Basically what I'm saying is telling the ai you are my therapist solve all my problems will only get you so far. But if you've ever tried, for example, taking all of the texts from a fight you're having with someone and plugging them into the AI and asking it to continue the conversation and give you different ways things could have been phrased or to summarize the issues into bullet points so you can more specifically focus on what's going on. Couples therapy in effect. I have found the AI to be extremely helpful as a neutral third party during conflict, almost like a mediator or a counselor. Sometimes phrasing your thoughts or breaking down what a person's telling you can be extremely difficult. The AIS we use are not general artificial intelligence they are large language models, the only thing they can do is talk and analyze text. Don't expect the AI to work like a therapist would work. Use it as a tool for, analyzing journal entries, breaking down a big long message someone has sent you into more manageable bites so you don't get overwhelmed by your personal emotional attachment to what's being said.
When my partner and I are having conflict I will often complain to the ai, and tell it to be brutally honest with me. It sometimes tells me the things that my partner is too shy to tell me, or I'm too self-centered to think for myself. And because it's coming from a computer, it's easier to take it for what it is which is just a single take on the situation.
Will the AI cure your depression? No.
Will the AI give you the same tips everyone gives you? Yes, literally that's what it's designed for
If you know how to use the AI to analyze a situation or generate a bunch of ideas, if you use the AI and prompt it to tell you the hard truth or to be critical of someone's actions or to give an explanation for why somebody might have done something, it can be a good tool to help guide some of your thoughts and mental exploration of a situation.
AI is not a therapist. It is not trained. Any information it gives is suspect.
But that doesn't mean as a data analysis tool, a stand-in for the person you're having an argument for, or a straw man to help run potential arguments past (while telling it to be rude short or selfish in its responses) can be a good therapy style tool for people who may not be able to afford professional help, but feel as though they need assistance in unpacking their own thoughts or phrasing things in a certain way or understanding something somebody is telling them.
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guys. please
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taintedtort · 2 days ago
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" #NEEDTHAT! "
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summary. how long they last during NNN
characters. kenma, akaashi, iwaizumi, kyotani, nishinoya
warnings. afab!reader, post!timeskip, SMUT!!!
a/n. my yearly NNN prompt, but with hq this time (and it’s december)
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KENMA
☆ a week and a half
he tried, though only because you asked. his stamina and libido aren’t too high, so he didn’t have much issue at first. however… you started purposely teasing him after a week; wearing short shorts, wearing tight shirts, or just prancing around in your panties. he wasn’t too interested in beating the challenge, so he doesn’t really attempt to deny himself. it’s too much of a hassle, especially with the way you’re practically begging to be fucked. so he does just that. lays you on the bed, and takes a bit of time fingering you open and making you cum on his fingers first, just because he can. it’s such a power trip, seeing you fall apart all thanks to him, he can’t help but fuck you silly after that. getting you to cum is better than beating a stupid little challenge.
"don’t be surprised, you’re the one teasing me."
AKAASHI
☆ he distracted you!
similar to kenma, he isn’t too interested in actually winning, or even participating in general. he isn’t worried about himself, he’s more concerned about you not being satisfied for the entire month. what is he if he can’t please his woman? his fingers alone aren’t enough for your greedy little pussy, he knows that. it’s that argument that he uses when he’s trying to refuse the challenge, cooing about how much he knows you’ll miss him inside you. just think about it, love, is something like that even worth it? ends with you sprawled out under him with his cock shoved inside you, scrambling your brain and making you forget about the conversation.
"how will i please you if i can’t fuck you? don’t deny yourself pleasure just for a silly challenge."
IWAIZUMI
☆ two weeks
only lasted that long out of sheer will. he practically lives in your pussy. he wakes up with gentle morning sex, and sends you to bed by fucking your brains out until you’re all sleepy and pliant. it’s a routine at this point, something you decided to interrupt just because you saw the stupid challenge online and got curious. you just wanted to see how long he could last! you didn’t expect him to come home all frustrated because he’s been thinking about your little cunt wrapped around him all day. you whined when he bent you over the couch, but he didn’t let you complain too much before he’s stuffing you full.
"bet you missed this too, didn’t you? nasty girl."
KYOTANI
☆ a week
he didn’t even want to do it in the first place, he only agreed so you’d shut up about it. he was pretty sure you’d end up crawling back to him anyway, since you really can’t go that long without his cock inside you. you’re spoiled, after all. after about a week, he can tell you’re getting whiny, so he decides to throw in the towel and give you what you need. you tease him, of course, so he decides to stuff your mouth first. he ignores your furrowed brows and cute pout when he forces you to your knees.
"bratty girls get their throats fucked first, or did you forget?"
NISHINOYA
☆ four days
he's confident at first, but then he remembers that nearly everything you do turns him on. knowing that he isn’t allowed to cum makes it worse somehow, and he forgets about the challenge most of the time. you have to cheekily remind him, only for him to groan and have to excuse himself to calm down his boner. he really wants to win, just to say that he did, but he knows he won’t be able to hold out. it’s almost pathetic how quickly he comes back to you, begging about 'just the tip'. he ends up fucking you like a rabid animal, nearly drooling over how good you feel.
"no no— i won’t cum… promise." (he did)
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rystiel · 1 day ago
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can’t blame in-ho tbh i’d also stare at gi-hun all day
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strangersteddierthings · 3 days ago
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Platonic Stobin bodyswap AU idea I'll never write. This has been in my drafts for over a year (since July 2023 per the timestamp)
Post season 3; During the season 3 bathroom confession scene Robin came out to Steve, and Steve came out to her. She knows he's bi, and she's the only one who knows. Swap starts off slowly for Steve and Robin. Little moments of vertigo where the world doesn't look right for a few seconds, that progresses to black out periods of time spanning 5-15 minutes. It's them switching bodies but it's so traumatizing (they are FREAKING out) that they don't remember it. So, it's like they're just losing moments in time, which still freaks them out.
Then one day they wake up and they're... each other. And they just don't go back.
And Steve can't really pass as Robin to her parents but thankfully they just blame it on 'moody teenage angst' and "you can talk to us about anything babygirl we love you so much and we're here when you need us." Which. Yeah, Steve cries about. But it also comes with the side of GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I HAVE TO FINISH HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN??? I CAN'T PLAY THE TRUMPET ROBIN YOU HAVE TO DROP OUT OF BAND
And Robin also cannot pass as Steve at first, but she gets to see how that matters exactly 0% because the Harrington's don't even notice. They also aren't around near as much as Steve makes them out to be. But she does get to enjoy the freedom of a legal drivers license and no job currently. HOWEVER she has walked Steve's pretty face into several doors/poles/walls because cute girls keep looking at her with hunger in their eyes and she doesn't know how to handle this.
(It makes more girls interested in a suddenly shy, stumbling, nervous Steve because those girls think they're the reason Confident Sex God Steve turns into a mess but really it's just Robin not knowing how to exist in a world where woman want her and fish fear her (sorry bad joke))
Anyway, queue shenanigannary for a bit. Steve encourages Robin to go on dates because why not get some practice in while they wait to swap back again? (he's holding out hope)
Do they have the awkward discussion of 'what are the limits to what I'm allowed to do in your body????? I dunno yet.
Anyway, Robin goes on dates. ((Does she end up going on a date with Vickie? Canonically Vickie's got no problem dating older boys? How to solve this plot line for when(if?) they switch back bodies? IDK dudes, that's Future Jess's issue.))
At some point, the gang finds out. Probably Dustin realizing Steve isn't as Steve-like as usual. He'd sniff out something was wrong with his brother for sure.
But then season 4 starts. Robin taught Steve how to play the trumpet back in August/Sept and it's then they realize that they kind of share their knowledge? Like... Steve picks up how to play the trumpet EASY. At first they think it's just Robin's body using muscle memory but then Robin realizes she knows things only Steve should.
Anyway, Steve is in band with Vickie the night of the Championshipgame, chatting easily while also trying to hint that 'Hey, I think Steve Harrington is checking you out???" while trying to tell Robin with telepathy (that they don't have... yet? Decide if they end up with telepathy later) to try and subtly check out Vickie. But neither girl is subtle so they both just whip around to stare at each other and Steve is facepalming.
NO WAIT. DO I MAKE CHANGES TO THE NARRATIVE BECAUSE IF STEVE IS IN HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN, THERE IS NO WAY HE'D LET DUSTIN AND MIKE SKIP OUT ON THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME. Maybe??? Will decide on this point later. Until then, above points stay.
Anyway, Chrissy still dies (sorry) and Eddie's still on the run, but like this time in the boathouse, Robin invites Eddie to stay at 'his' big empty house 'cause the parents are gone and Robin has no hangups about Eddie like Steve did in canon (he is the first person we hear call Eddie The Freak).
The end point here is that Robin, Steve, and Eddie spend A LOT of time together at Steve's house and then the angst falls in because Steve starts to fall in love with Eddie.
So, he has a breakdown in a bathroom with Robin about it, all sad and crying like "I really fuckin' like him Robs, but I can't- there- we can't-"
"I need you to take a breath and tell me what the issue is," Robin says.
"I like him Robs, but this is your body. I can't take things from you. Like your first kiss. And I certainly can't- I won't put your body through... you know. I can't do that to you."
And it takes Robin a moment to process what he means. Romantic entanglements that Steve might want to have would have to happen with her body. And maybe Robin isn't sure what to say/do because the thought of a guy and his dick anywhere near her body immediately freaks her out but... she's not in her body. She's in Steves, and has been doing things with girls in it. It never occurred to her that Steve might want to get hot and heavy with a guy in her body and maybe she's got something to unpack there???
Anyway, no time to worry about that. Vecna's gonna kill Max so they gotta go. Also, Eddie does NOT know about the body swap.
She does tell Steve to kiss Eddie, though, in the end. When they're not sure they'll live. So, Eddie calls out to Steve. "Make him pay." So, to Eddie, it looks like Steve gives him a nod and it's Robin who marches up, grabs his face, and plants one on him. Robin(Steve) doesn't stick around long enough for Eddie to kiss back (Steve wants him to because he wants a proper kiss from Eddie, but he also doesn't want him to because Eddie thinks he's kissing Robin and if he kisses back it means he likes Robin, not Steve, so Steve doesn't lock lips long enough find out).
Something something they all survive and then Eddie, hopped up on pain meds in the hospital, demands to speak to Robin. So, Steve slinks in, afraid of what's going to happen, and Eddie's like 'Robin. I appreciate that you like me but you are unfortunately a girl and I am not into that.' And Steve is like!!! my time!! It's come!!! I HAVE to get back to my body.
And then at some point they switch back. Maybe El doing some mind fuckery? Idk.
And for fun, here's the beginning of the fic that idea written out:
"Whoa," Steve blinks rapidly as the world tilts and shifts. It's very sudden, and over just as quickly as it started, but it still leaves Steve unanchored for a moment. It was probably brought on by the concussion he's been nursing these last two days, since the whole Starcourt shit. He leans sideways to try and use the wall as an anchor until everything feel right again.
He should, probably, be more concerned about this because this has been like, the fourth time this has happened and when he told Robin about it, she confessed it was happening to her, too. That Owens guy had told them there could be unknown side effects to whatever the fuck they'd been injected with and this might just be part of that. It'll fade, Steve's sure, as the days go on. Never mind that it has been happening more lately. It's going to fade. It has to.
Except, it doesn't. The sensation of be unanchored gets worse, and now it comes accompanied with loss of time. Steve will feel the tilt and shift while standing in the doorway to his room and the next thing he knows he's got a hand on his front door, keys in his hand, and doesn't know where he was trying to go.
Ring Ring
Steve shakes his head, shakes away the feeling of wrongness and goes to answer the phone. "Harrington residence, Steve speaking."
"Steve! Steve, it's getting worse!" Robin's voice sobs at him from the other end of the phone. "I-I was in the kitchen and then I was, like, huddled in the bathroom and I don't remember going there."
"Fuck, me too. I just came to standing at my front door, about to leave but I don't remember getting there, or where I was planning to go," Steve confesses back. It's strange, how easily Robin has become a part of his life. He was expecting her to not want to be withing five miles of him ever again, after what he got her dragged into, but it seems Robin isn't scared away. Perhaps it's just that he's the only other person she knows who went through Russian torture. Even if that is the case, Steve'll take it. He likes Robin a lot.
"Should we... call Dr. Owens?" Robin sounds so small when she asks.
"I don't want to," Steve confesses but doesn't elaborate. Calling Dr. Owens means admitting that something is wrong wrong. Steve doesn't want anything to be that wrong. He wants to get back to his life. He's got to get back to job searching, too, and Dr. Owens might deny him that.
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fanfoolishness · 1 day ago
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You’re welcome to disagree and can certainly make your own theories and posts. I think what you’re missing here is that these are side quests that the companions specifically ask Rook to come along for, and that a person can do things for multiple reasons.
The companions all have main side quests that Rook is involved with for important reasons - Lace’s shade, Emmrich vs. Hezenkoss, rescuing the griffons, ending the plans of people like Zara and Anaris who are clearly dangerous. These are big plotty quests that have little to do with Rook and everything to do with the companion in question, and aren’t what I was writing about.
We know the companions do many things together that Rook isn’t privy to. Harding and Emmrich go camping together. The companions meet for book club discussions that Rook doesn’t attend. Lucanis or Neve will be gone for weeks trying to help their city. They’re comfortable doing things that don’t involve Rook. So they don’t have to ask Rook along to smaller outings.
They also all have small side quests that they were *going to do anyway* - because they have lives, interests, and attachments - but they chose to invite Rook along. Yes Assan could use walks, yes Lucanis could use an ally, yes Emmrich loves the Necropolis. Rook isn’t their only consideration. Do I think that every time they invited Rook they were following a therapy logbook hoping to get them to grieve? No. But if they were going to do those things anyway (because they are richly written people with their own lives), and they care about Rook (and they do), and a lot of those things involve grief or calmness, it makes sense that they’d include their friend who they also know lost somebody and seems never to talk about it.
Do I think the writers intended us to think about 5 different funerary traditions for a good reason? Yeah I think it’s pretty likely. (Dalish, Tevinter, Nevarran, Trevisan, Qunari/Rivaini.)
This is the first DA game where grief has been confronted so openly since DA2, and even then, Hawke is the one who bears the grieving for their family. We can choose to kill Bartrand for Varric, we can have Fenris refuse to engage with his sister, Anders mercy kills Karl. None of those companions shows grief particularly for more than the immediate moment, despite these losses being huge. Aveline does mention needing time for her husband but never has a ceremony for him that we see. We do see in DAO that Alistair mourns Duncan, but we still don’t get a ceremony for him. We don’t get that same depth and richness specifically about the companions’ grief, and we definitely don’t see it in DA in general, where the companions simply don’t typically have those same struggles.
In Veilguard, everyone faces grief. Lace and Varric and the Titans. Davrin and Weisshaupt. Neve and Brom and possibly her city. Lucanis and Caterina and Illario’s betrayal and possibly his city. Emmrich and his parents and Manfred/immortality. Taash and their mother. Bellara and her faith and her brother, twice. Solas and his regrets.
It’s precisely because of the richness of these characters that there’s room for an interpretation that prescribes multiple motives to the small side quests that many thought were trivial. I’ve seen people complain about the “pointless” quests, even though there are many points to them - getting to know the characters, seeing different sides of different countries and factions in Thedas, and yes, looking at grief. I just really don’t think it’s a coincidence we go to so many funerals when the writers could have written the companions to have countless other storylines. Shathann and Cyrian could have lived. Brom could have been a living agent we meet. Heck Varric could have survived and helped talk down Solas at the end.
But instead grief permeates this game in and out, and that was very, very intentional.
Just losing my mind at the implications that the companions have all been trying to help Rook grieve Varric, and Rook doesn’t know
Emmrich, wise and long-familiar with grief, being told by Neve and Harding what happened; understanding why sometimes he overhears Rook’s muffled voice in the Infirmary, talking to no one. He takes Rook to the Memorial Gardens and mentions he talks to his parents, thinking Rook might be comfortable with the same. Rook lights candles and rings bells but Emmrich watches, sorrowed, to see Rook still seems in deep denial.
Neve takes Rook to the Wall of Light; a Shadow Dragon Rook knows just what this means but any Rook can understand the solemnity, the power of remembrance. Neve reenergizes Brom’s light and looks to Rook, hoping Rook will mention wanting to make one for Varric. Rook is kind and comforting to Neve, but Neve is lost in wondering why Rook doesn’t take the chance to open up. She can’t figure it. Maybe Rook just can’t face it, not yet. Maybe Rook does something privately. She isn’t sure but it nags at her.
Davrin’s not big on talking about feelings. He’d rather just move on. But he sees the way Rook seems a little hollow sometimes, a little distant; he sees how Rook takes so quickly to Assan. “Hey Rook,” he says, and invites them to come with him and Assan to safe places in Arlathan, where the woods are clean and green and growing, where real sunlight dapples through the trees. Rook always seems to love these outings, seems lighter afterwards. But Davrin feels a little confused in that Rook never seems to realize the outings are mostly for them.
Taash is another person not big on feelings. But they know how much feelings can twist you up and mess with your head. When Lace tells them about Varric they feel badly for Rook, and think to how they feel when they’re struggling. Epic fights, dragon fights, drinks with the Lords. Taash is perfectly capable of doing all that on their own. But maybe bringing Rook along will help get them out of their head a little bit. Does it help? Taash isn’t sure.
Bellara’s double-versed in grief after what happens to Cyrian. Rook helped her through trying to reach him, and Bellara wonders, in her own pain, if she can help Rook a little bit too. Especially if Rook is elven, teaching Rook about the braziers and the challenges is another tool she can share about her or their people, another way that might help Rook with their grief. Neve’s told her that the Wall of Light didn’t seem to help Rook much, but maybe a different funeral tradition could help them instead. Rook helps her light the braziers and Bellara feels her heart lightening, though she wonders at Rook, who seems more moved by Bellara’s reactions than anything else.
Lucanis is nearly as allergic to dealing with feelings as Davrin is, but he immediately clocks how Neve and Harding are acting, and asks what happened before he joined them. They tell him about Varric and that they’re worried about Rook, that Rook seems to just be shoving those feelings down without dealing with them. Lucanis is no stranger to that, but while it’s fine for him, he doesn’t want to see someone who risked their life to save him share that struggle. He brings Rook to Caterina’s funeral planning to show Rook it’s okay to admit the loss and honor it. When that doesn’t seem to make a dent, he falls back to his standard - lavish meals, small gifts, coffee. He knows it would help him. He just wishes it helped Rook too.
Lace hurts the worst after losing Varric and Lace is where Solas’ magic comes the closest to faltering. Rook can see Lace is down, she’s quiet, she’s afraid after what happens with the gods escaping; but Solas’ magic holds and Rook can still never see quite why. Lace would love to sit over drinks one night and share stories about Varric, but she sees that Rook doesn’t seem ready, and she doesn’t want to push. Instead she writes letters to Ma, to the Inquisitor, to Cassandra, to Aveline, maybe even to Hawke. She writes out her stories with Varric’s old quill and she carries a bolt of Bianca with her. A dozen times she goes to talk to Rook about him, and when she tries Rook turns away or changes the subject. It hurts, but Lace knows she can’t make Rook talk about him, and she hopes in time it will get better.
This just absolutely crushes me the more I think about it 😭
Edit: Varric’s death is Rook’s personal companion quest every other single companion tries to help them with, and can’t 😭😭😭
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pali-and-proud · 3 days ago
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Would Buddy hurt anyone? Why was Buddy shocked when he hurt Chase with the spear? AND WHY THE COMPLETE DIFFERENCE WITH THE SPEAR AND DEACON WITH THE WOLVES?!?
I GET TO TALK ABOUT BUDDY AND DEACON. AHAHA.
Thank you for the Q <3 I love and respect you, but I am going to bypass the first two questions because I am filled with thoughts on Buddy and Deacon's dynamic. Because I don't know if more people noticed (I'm 100% sure others have noticed) but Buddy and Deacon absolutely parallel each other.
What's Buddy's big motivator, as established by the Dreams By Night episode? To escape Ex Libris. To be free, essentially.
What's Deacon's big motivator, as established by The Book of Deacon? To lead his own story, without his parents controlling everything. To be free, essentially.
Buddy, from the beginning, harps on Chase's lack of preparation. Deacon, from the beginning, gripes about Chase's lack of preparation. Deacon over-prepares, to the point where Chase asks him what different scenes mean and what happens in the story. Something he used to do with Buddy, because both Deacon and Buddy indulge Chase in their explanations.
Deacon gets caught off-guard by Chase's perceptiveness, and Buddy gets caught off-guard by Chase's personality. And Chase might gripe about both, sure, but often about superficial, irrelevant details. Complaining about Deacon always being busy, or complaining about Buddy being pretentious. (Not about things of substance, like Deacon having enough money to attend college AND disliking the experience, or about not even knowing Buddy's name.)
We all laugh about Buddy being paranoid, but Deacon matches him pretty well. Deacon isn't spilling any names. Deacon, like Buddy, understands the necessity for secrets. Who makes the plans to hide Prunella? Who keeps telling Chase not to talk to Buddy about her?
(A thought for another time, but--something about kids of strict parents being sneakier, and something about Deacon always convincing Chase into keeping secrets.)
Deacon's being reasonable, and we know that, because we're listening to his reasoning, and his reasoning is nothing like Buddy's. (Buddy's all "EVERYONE is out for themself," while Deacon is a lot more subtly judging the shirtless Hot Topic wanna-be.) But their ACTIONS match each other.
Are they the same character? lmao absolutely not. They have different experiences, different mentalities, different perspectives. Deacon has a support system, whether financial (parents) or emotional (Bronze) or even social (Chase). Buddy has a bright eyed, stubborn kid who sees a vampire and somehow therapizes him, and sees someone covered in thorns and reciprocates their hug because he knows it was needed.
But how similar they are really shines in the Requiem arc. Deacon and Buddy match the other's barbs seemlessly, and they call out the other with ease. Deacon insults Buddy's fashion sense + teeth, Buddy tricks Deacon into nearly getting mauled by wolves, which is probably an escalation, and Deacon immediately starts plotting a revenge. "When I get my hands on him," he outright says, implying some retaliation, and yet he sees Buddy and Chase wrestling a vampire to the ground and immediately asks "What're we doing?"
He immediately joins them. He has no idea what they're doing or why they're doing it, but they're doing it, so he alas has to ascribe to it. And then you remember that Chase is the one who jumped Vamp, and Buddy ALSO has no idea what they're doing or why they're doing it, but Chase's doing it, so he alas has to ascribe.
They get each other, is what I'm saying. They're foils in methods (Deacon annoys Buddy verbally, Buddy annoys Deacon physically////Deacon chooses to maintain peace via secrecy, Buddy prefers honest communication despite the impacts/////etc etc etc) but they're mirroring the other. They're two beams of light, coming from the same source, going in completely opposite directions.
Buddy hurting Chase risked everything Buddy had gained, all the trust and the companionship and the grossly genuine friendship he gained. The physical pain risked ripping the emotional connection between them. Buddy hurting Deacon DOESN'T rip open anything, because however far Buddy takes things, Deacon's prepared to follow out of annoyance and spite alone. They have the same priorities: keep themselves (+ Chase/others) safe, and humble the other when necessary.
And Buddy has an embarrassing crush or something. everyone point at the idiot and laugh
#cinderella boy#cinderella boy webtoon#chase hollow#stargoth#buddy#buddy cinderella boy#i think if i said anything about Buddy hurting people#the fastpassers would hunt me down#so I will say idk! i think it depends on the situation and how desperate he is#(buddy was shocked by the spear bc he didn't mean to hurt Chase! which is fascinating for so many reasons; our guy is ALL bark)#(and likely doesnt WANT to hurt people so i sense an angsty plot point coming up)#BUT BACK TO BUDDY AND DEACON#You thought i was done??? sit down babes lets talk character design#Deacon is dressed like a standard nerd#And Buddy is originally in all dark clothes and described as gothy#Yet Deacon doesn't really like a lot of stem classes and who can blame him physics needs to die this is a hill ill be buried on#And Buddy LOVES expensive-looking complex outfits and snorts when he laughs and genuinely likes people petting his hair#they look like complete opposite characters#but their character design is only a FACET of who they are#and i stare so pointedly at what i said about both wanting to be free#and how theyre both actively trying to break the mold SOMEONE ELSE put them in#but again#using completely different methods#one is trying to figure out how to break away from his parents without actually causing riffs#and one is trying to figure out how to break away from Ex Libris probably fastpassers figure out the rest idk#whatever made yall lose ur minds in the finale fill in there#long post#again#at this point yall know i cant shut up#anyway THANK YOU FOR THE Q!
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eyelessfaces · 3 days ago
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ahead, ahead
poe dameron x reader
summary: “We– You’ll never settle down, Poe. We both know this. And neither will I, as long as we’re in this.” Your eyes rake over his face, his eyes softly fluttering with hurt when he averts his gaze from you. “It'll never work.”
or; your fear of the future forces you to reject the man you love.
warnings: rejecting poe but we're not actually truly rejecting him (who, in their right mind would reject this man), talks of the war, of being scared of the future, extremely brief mentions of an injury, death and grief
tags: gn!reader, idiots in love, angst, fluff, celebration, kissing, idk man I hate tagging this stuff you'll see
word count: 2.9k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
lmao hey I'm back ig if this fic doesn't hit ten thousand notes in 48hrs I'm dipping again
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The night is fairly quiet, save for the occasional crackle over the comms. You and Poe are tucked away in an observation post, overlooking a seemingly endless empty desert; it feels like you've been here for hours, time blending now that the only light around is the shining stars and the small dots of your devices. 
Poe lightly clears his throat, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “You can't go away from any conversation right now, so,” 
You shouldn’t even be surprised that he can not keep his mouth shut for longer than three minutes. “Why won't you let me take you out on a date?”
You sigh. “Poe, not now.” 
You can feel his eyes burning holes through you, knowing exactly what gaze he’s using on you, knowing his big, warm, pleading brown eyes will have the exact effect he intends to cast over you if you happen to turn to him.
You keep watching ahead, trying your best to ignore his too obvious firm gaze over you in your peripheral vision, feigning focus on trying to notice anything unusual in the broad land of sand ahead of you. He makes it really hard.
“What? Perfect situation to talk about this” he says, his gaze on you unwavering. “For me” he shrugs with a teasing smile.
You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that your silence will make him drop it. But he’s Poe Dameron. 
“Tell me. Tell me why. I genuinely want to know your reasons.” he says, leaning back into his seat. “Hurt my feelings if you have to. I just wanna know”
You can feel the pressure starting to pull down on you. You know he won’t let it go, but you also don’t want to hurt your friend while you’re stuck with him for what could be hours.
“So what, because no one ever says no to you you can’t take someone rejecting you?” you scoff, turning to him before you check the comms again though you know there’s nothing new. 
He laughs, a choked, startled laugh. “We both know it’s not that. You kissed me”
You sigh, tension coiling tight and your heart leaping in your chest as you set the comms down again, at this point begging the maker for something to happen, maybe even for a First Order ambush just to get you out of this conversation. “Maybe I was just pitying you.” you mutter under your breath, busying yourself out of it by picking the underside of your nails.
“Oh, you were shitting your pants at the idea of losing me. That's why you kissed me. You were so scared I might be dead you ran to kiss me when you found out I wasn't.” 
Your eyes close wearily. He’s on point. 
“And you almost could have chipped my teeth with how hard our mouths clashed, so,” he trails off. “Come on. Why won’t you tell me? I really just wanna know. I can handle it.” he murmurs, more softly this time. Your head shakes as you tut impatiently. His gentle tone doesn’t make it less painful to be in this situation. “I promise you won’t hurt my feelings, you already kinda did anyway, so I guess I’m not really–” Poe stops when you suddenly grab his arm and hold a finger up, your eyes widening as you freeze.
“Listen”
Poe halts and goes silent, alert to any sound around, any faint wind breeze, any footstep, anything. 
“...I’m not hearing anything” he declares after a while, eyebrows furrowed.
You recline into your seat, releasing your grip on him. “Exactly. How peaceful”
He lets out a soft, bitter chuckle and looks away, into the waves of sand, pretending to get his focus back onto the task at hand. 
He finally, as you wished, lets the tight space be silent again, but after a while, you come to admit that the heavy silence is arguably more agonizing than having Poe run his mouth about something you don’t really want to talk about.
“You'll always care about the Resistance more than you could care about me.”
“What?” Poe scoffs and glances back over you, eyebrows raised. You give him a small shrug. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”
Your gaze darts to him before you look back out the window at your side. “It’s not even a bad thing, it’s who you are, and that’s why people follow you, that’s why I follow you, but–”
He stares at you, his gaze burning through you again, caught somewhere between confusion and frustration. “But what? What makes you think that?” 
You can hear the startled hurt in his tone, the clear bewilderment, the clear need and urge in him to argue.
“You're a busy man. You're always on the run–” 
“So are you” he cuts you off.
“That's what I mean. We’re both so busy with this– this endless fight. We barely have time to sleep, let alone,” you gesture vaguely between the both of you, catching the pleading gaze you were desperately trying to avoid earlier, hoping he will get what you mean without you having to say it out loud, without having to stab him right through the heart once again.
“So what?” he insists, his tone firmer. “We both know that. That’s part of the deal. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t make it work”
You shake your head, sensing it will only keep going down from there. “We– You’ll never settle down, Poe. We both know this. And neither will I, as long as we’re in this.” Your eyes rake over his face, his eyes softly fluttering with hurt when he averts his gaze from you. “It'll never work.”
The thick silence painfully grips at your throat, and just when it feels Poe might start to speak again, the comms crackle with a signal, alerting a presence on the grounds. 
You stand up and gather the stuff you need, the mission you let aside needing your full focus again, and as you take your blaster out of your holster, you can still feel Poe’s lingering gaze over you, your chest tightening in a sense of guilt you’ve never felt before.
It’s spontaneous and unconstrained when you fall into Poe’s embrace, but you do, and it’s like nothing ever happened in that observation post a few weeks ago. Your hands fist tightly into the fabric of his flight suit while you're still careful not to press yourself too close against his wounded arm. The general hubbub of celebration is rumbling on the ground of Ajan Kloss, thrumming through the air, and you can only feel relief as Poe’s hand cups the back of your head, pulling you closer into the embrace. For a brief moment, you just stay here, mingling with each other, breathing him in like you didn't completely push him away the last time you faced him.
“Are you okay?” he asks when you pull back slightly, looking you up and down, eyes raking through as he searches for any sign of injury.
“Are you?” you ask back, eyeing his arm wrapped in a cloth and held against his chest by a sling. 
He shrugs, grimacing as he quickly waves it off, trying to downplay it. “That's fine. Nothing I've never seen before. I got things to celebrate before I start whining about this” he grins. 
He smiles wider when he sees your smile, your cheeks warming up as his gaze lingers over you, taking in every detail of your face. You have barely been able to catch each other for longer than two minutes outside of missions these past few weeks, so knowing he will now be able to see you for maybe three minutes longer now that the galaxy isn’t at stake anymore brings another layer to the wider sense of relief of this war being over. “I’m glad you made it out alright” he says quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the noise. 
“Couldn’t have done it without such an amazing leader” you tease, and he lets out a genuine laugh, shaking his head, but your own laughter fades as he gets cornered by his fellow squadron pilots, pulling him away from you.
You smile when you see his eyes crinkle as they cheer with him, and you give him another smile and nod when he mouths you a quick apology as they drag him away.
You stare off into the distance, a small smile tugging at your lips when from afar, you notice Finn being swirled around by Rose, all smiles. 
There’s a bittersweet feeling to this, all of this. It’s supposedly all over, but you also have no idea what to expect for tomorrow, and the next day, and all the ones after that, and the idea is terrifying. 
You put your glass down beside you on the crate that serves you as a bench, turning when you feel a presence approaching.
“Hey” Poe smiles, sitting by your side on the wide crate.
“Hey,” you reply, a hint of tiredness in your voice though his presence lifts you up a little.
“Overwhelmed?” 
You scoff, giving him a half nod, barely a tilt of the head. “Yeah, you could say that”
He gives you a nod of comprehension, staring off at the loud, joyful celebration in the distance. 
Puffs of dirt are flowing off the ground from being beaten by dancing feet, the particles visible from the strings and poles of lanterns set up for the occasion, revealing the figures of people overflowing with energy though that layer will peel off and reveal the true exhaustion stemming from the battle soon enough.
The night is warm, making sweat cling to skins, making tears of all kinds short-lived, visual proofs of joy and grief drying and disappearing quickly.
Poe’s gaze turns back to you, his hand settling over yours. “You should join us. You shouldn’t be staying by yourself at a time like this” he prompts, lightly nudging your side, a gentle smile on his face.
“I will, eventually” you nod, glancing at a couple linking foreheads, swaying side by side. “Just having a moment,” you chuckle softly, bringing your glass back to your lips.
“Ouh, okay” he teases, begrudgingly removing his hand. “Mind if I have this moment with you?”
“Sure,” you scoff, silently offering to share your glass with Poe, disposing of it again when he silently declines.
“So, what now?” he questions, a renewed brightness filling his voice. “What are your plans now that this war’s over?” he asks, eyes roaming along your figure.
You take a deep breath, clearing yourself of a discomfort you barely realized had been smothering your chest. “I don’t know. That’s what’s terrifying” you admit. He hums in agreement, nodding. “But maybe I’m gonna apologize to a certain pilot I pushed away first” you grin, glancing at him, meeting his eyes that crinkle in the corners as he smiles. “I wanted to apologize earlier. Before they snatched you away to worship you for your feats” you tease.
He scoffs. “Sorry. Busy man as you said”
“Yeah” you exhale, taking a sip of your drink. You lick the liquid off your lips, before looking back at Poe. “I was too harsh on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you” 
He gives you a single nod and a forgiving smile. “I know. We don’t have to talk about that”
You shrug softly, averting your gaze from him again. All those people cheering and laughing and kissing could have been you and Poe instead of that slightly awkward tension between you, in a parallel reality where you hadn’t pushed your pride to the first plan, leaving your feelings behind. 
You glance at him, at the way his brown eyes catch the warm glow of the lanterns. “I wanted to kiss you again” you admit, in a faint murmur. “When we came back winning.”
Your gaze falls to your lap, your fingers drumming against your glass as you feel the weight of Poe’s gaze over you, attentive to your every word. “But I didn’t want you to think I was playing with your feelings and being cruel again, just the way I was in the observation post”
Poe’s gaze softens, his hand closing as he tries to keep himself from reaching for you again. He nods in understanding, unsure how to go on from this admission. 
“It’s not about cruelty,” he mutters, still looking at you. “It hurt because I knew you were scared. And I didn’t know how to make you not be.”
Your heart tightens inside your ribcage, your eyes briefly closing at his words. You nod, having to admit he is probably right. Scared of losing any more people you love, for the cause that has already taken so much from you.
Scared of losing him when your feelings already weighed enough on you.
“Hey,” he calls, tearing you out of your knot of blooming thoughts, nudging your knee with his own. “That’s why we’re here tonight. Because we made it” he nods. “We're all supposed to be less scared now, to enjoy the celebration and to properly take time to process our griefs.”
A faint smile grows over his face when you rest your head against his shoulder. You try to ignore the tears threatening your eyes.
“So things are supposed to be quieter now, right?” you question quietly, feeling his arm wrap around your back.
He hums in reflection. “There’s still a lot to do but, yeah, supposedly”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Always”
You let out a small, vulnerable sigh. “I never thought this day would actually happen. It was just a distant vision” you confess. “And now that it’s here I don’t know what to do”
He slightly tilts his head, glancing at you without dislodging your head from his shoulder. “You’ve never fantasized about what your life would be like after the war?”
You stay quiet for a bit, thinking about it. “Not really. Not seriously. Mostly because it didn’t really feel like this day would come, and now everyone knows what they want for themselves and I feel completely lost”
He nods. “You don't have to figure it all out now. The Resistance still has lots to sort out” he affirms, his thumb idly caressing your arm. “But you can think about it differently. You have every option now. You can start again” You pull your head away from his shoulder, considering this point of view as you grab your drink to finish it. You hum softly, rubbing your eyes when you let go of your drink, trying to chase the lingering doubts away.
“Come on, we should join the others” he clutches your shoulder before standing up. “And you need a refill”
You nod, looking back at your empty glass, propping yourself onto your feet. “Poe, wait” he turns back to you, an expectant curiosity painted over his face, watching as you step closer to him. 
“If you asked me out again,” you say, a playful smirk forming on your lips. “I’d say yes. It’d be part of my new life”
His grin widens as he fully turns to you. “Oh yeah?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and a teasing edge to his voice. 
His eyes roam over your face, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you nod. “Yeah”
He steps closer, the space between you shrinking as his hand brushes yours before he holds it again, this time more deliberately and more confidently. “You should have. Kissed me” he murmurs as your gaze darts to your linked hands then back to him, unable to repress the smile growing onto your face.
“I know,” you chuckle, watching him let his fingers intertwine with yours when you don’t pull away, his touch firm, grounding you with a peacefulness you haven’t felt in what seems to be ages. “But who says it's too late?”
“If I was that petty, I would” he grins, a teasing glint in his eyes, but the warmth in them conveys the playfulness of his words. 
You lean in to kiss him before either of you can overthink it, your free hand instinctively grabbing at the back of his neck like he can somehow still slip away from you, your fingers burying in his mass of hair damp from the heavy atmosphere.
His hand slides out of yours to cup your face and the kiss lingers, warm and unhurried, neither of you caring about the laughter and music of the celebration in the background. When you finally pull back, your foreheads touch, and you see the playful grin on his face that makes your chest ache with fondness. “Took you long enough” he teases.
“You’re so desperate” you shoot back, your tone lacking any real bite, significantly softened by the smile that refuses to leave your face. 
“You were hard to get.”
“Alright, okay” you scoff, your hand sliding to rest against his torso, adjusting the collar of his shirt on the way. 
The teasing slowly fades from his face, his hand reaching up to cover yours over the rise and fall of his torso, gently closing around your fingers
“I’ll make time for you.” he says, his voice low and sincere. “Between work, flying, building everything we’ve lost and our lives again… I’ll make time for us. I promise”
You find yourself nodding, swallowing his every word, blindly trusting him; because if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that Poe Dameron never makes empty promises.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, and for the first time in what feels forever, moving forward doesn’t seem as terrifying.
any and every feedback/reblog/comment is greatly appreciated and keeps authors going!!
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ivysos2001 · 2 days ago
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It’s still wild to me that agents of shield started doing time travel plotlines and handled it by coming up with the necessary set of time travel rules and mechanics to stick to and then having the characters explain it to us (and each other) in very simple/easy to understand terms to make sure we were all on the same page and could follow the plotlines they were setting up
And then a few years later the mainstream mcu decided to start doing time travel stuff and it was such a complete mess that (not only did the majority of fans and casual watchers alike leave the movie theater confused about/unable to follow endgame’s concepts/rules of time travel) but also the people who made the movie couldn’t even seem to figure out how it worked. Like seriously who else remembers all those interviews in the weeks after endgame was released where all the writers/directors/execs/etc were all doing interviews and taking turns trying to explain wtf happened in endgame (particularly in regards to Steve returning to the past/being Peggy’s og husband all along/making a new non-og timeline to marry her/I could keep going) and all of their explanations were completely different and contrasting each other wildly (which is absolutely ridiculous and seems kinda unprofessional for the team behind one of the biggest movies/franchises ever like cmon guys get it together)
Anyway shoutout to agents of shield for always being generally amazing and specifically for handling time travel *way* better than the mcu
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6qubed · 20 hours ago
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fair enough, that's what I've been doing. and yeah, I did the bumper-sticker snappy comeback thing, which was not cool. apologies.
let's recontextualize. first point of order, every human is a human, be they man, woman, white, black, gay, straight, pick your fucking adjective. we're all humans. we're the same. that sounds fairly obvious on the face of it, but remember that dehumanization and othering- that "Us vs. Them" shit- are the tools of bigots; note what I said there, not fascists, bigots. we'll never truly be free of the taint of Godwin's Law, but we haven't gotten to them yet. not yet. soon, though. but back on track, this does respond to that thing you wrote; women and fascists are the same, because there is literally nothing separating them from any other group of humans on the planet. nothing that matters, anyway. (and if that thought pisses you off, hey it pisses them off too. one more thing y'all got in common)
second point, no person ever thinks of themselves as a "bad person". we're getting dangerously close to discussions of morality here (and I have a bias anyway because I'm an antinihilist and morality doesn't exist. neither does holiness, since you mentioned it) but my point is no person ever does "the wrong thing" on purpose. if they do, they either think they're being "wrong for The Right Reasons", i.e. telling those mormons that rocked up to your doorstep that you can't go to church with them next sunday because that's when you're hosting a gay satanic orgy, three things that a religious person would find objectionable and that's why you're saying it, or (and this is the dangerous one) they think they "didn't have a choice", i.e. that "look what you made me do" shit that a domestic abuser would say after she slapped her husband around for buying another woman flowers (his mother, for Mother's Day).
third point, building off the second, is that once a person's got it in their heads that they're a "victim" being "oppressed", it's real easy for anything and everything they do to be "protecting themselves and/or fighting back" and anything their "oppressor" does as "oppression". okay, let's go back to the fascists now: you've no doubt seen that "1488" dogwhistle that every dickhead tries to use to be "clever", right? ignore the 88 for a second; that 14 is a reference to "The Fourteen Words", a slogan for white supremacy. now consider what those fourteen words actually say. it's actually the first half of an entire slogan broken up by a comma: "We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children, because the beauty of the White Aryan woman must not perish from the Earth." do you see it? they think all that awful shit they've been doing this whole time is an act of protection. they think they're under attack. any act of cruelty they commit might be regrettable, on its face, but really in their minds they don't have a choice. because they're being oppressed. they're being run out of their homes, having their money and their jobs and their opportunities and their futures taken away, by their oppressors. hell you want a less dramatic example? remember all that fuss everyone was making years ago about "manspreading"? when Men's latest act of oppression against feminists All Women Everywhere was sitting comfortably on public transit? "How dare they take up Our Space! it's supposed to be for those who truly need it! what's next, Men in Women's bathrooms??"
there is nothing separating you from that. nothing makes you better. nothing makes you "special". and nothing makes you any different from me. or anyone else. nothing at all. the idea that you are somehow above that sort of thinking is a trap, and the minute you think that being harmed gives you justification for doing harm in return, you've fallen in. as for "just making jokes", well first of all go back and reread OP's posts, and second consider how burned you'd be or have been by men making "women jokes"
i see "men bad" jokes as very similar to suicide jokes. like making them every once in a while isn't the worst thing, but if you Keep making them constantly. it DOES shape how you start thinking and you WILL become a more unpleasant and bitter person and also make people around you uncomfortable. and sometimes you just gotta choose to not make or engage with certain jokes, even if they are amusing to you, because its just not who you wanna be
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silliest-sideblog · 2 days ago
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New Years Kiss
Pairing: Etho/Tango
Length: 1k words
A/N: It's technically New Years here already and I wanted to post this before people are heading out. So here's another little Slabtek fic, this time for new years eve!
Technically it's set after my other fic "Just a little distraction" but it's not relevant. I just wanted to write something indulgent for the holidays.
Happy New Years everyone, hope I can get even more writing done next year!
Etho and Tango sit in the reiling of the steampunk blimp that looms above Tango's still unfinished factory, looking towards where Cub is hosting a large fireworks show with the help of some of the others. There's food and people are talking and laughing.
Almost everyone is there, but not these two.
Of course they love their friends and enjoy spending time with them but it's already so noisy and crowded at times and right now they prefer the quiet of it all. Plus Tango insists the view from up here is so much better than being up close.
They sit, legs dangling, and just watch over the server for a while. It's a comfortable silence around them, without the need to fill it.
Tango got out his notepad occasionally to write down some idea or another that went through his head, telling Etho about it as he writes.
Neither of them has a clock on them and they don't know how late it is.
Eventually, Etho breaks the silence."So when do we get sappy and talk about the past year?"
The smile is audible in his voice and Tango doesn't even need to look up to see the way his eyes crinkle slightly alongside it.
"We don't have to if you don't wanna" he just offers in return. Neither of them is the type for this kind of stuff anyway.
Etho shrug and they sit in silence once more but now that Etho mentioned it once, Tango is of course thinking about it anyway.
"It sure was a year. Thought I would've gotten more done" Tango sighs. He's now looking down at his unfinished factory. "Thought I'd at least have that thing done a bit more done by now. Instead I spent half the year in a hole and the other half fixing this mess." he laughs sorely.
Etho gently kicks against his boot.
"You got everyone addicted to your game. Again." he throws in and Tango knows that it's not just to cheer him up.
"Only took me what? 5 months? And even then it was kind of a mess. All the bugs and so much that went wrong..."
A beat later, "Sorry. Didn't want to spend the last few minutes of the year being miserable" Tango says but he can't help the slight smile in his voice because Etho knows how he is. And Tango knows that Etho doesn't mind; that sometimes Tango needs to talk himself down, let out an annoyed sigh at himself and get to it. But there's not really a getting to it now on New Year's now, is there?
But the sigh already helps enough.
"What about you? Happy with this one?" Tango asks, changing the subject away from himself. Funny thing how neither of them can stand bring the focus for too long.
"Sure, could say that." Etho says but doesn't really elaborate.
Many good things have happened for the both of them. They made games for their friends and had the joy of watching them play and laugh. Struggle and get better.
Etho got over himself and built a roof for his house, something he's at least decently happy with.
Tangos factory is, despite the flaws he's deeply unhappy with, quite the impressive piece of redstone work.
The time they spent with everyone, laughing and learning from each other, watching their friends grow and live alongside them.
Neither of them says it out loud but that's what's been filling this year for them.
Another thing they don't say out loud, not earlier, not right now, is them. For a few months now they have been closer than ever before and since that one afternoon in the redstone of Hungry Hermits...
Things have changed between them, kisses have been stolen away, nights spent at the others, mostly Etho's, base; Tango's starter house being mostly unused at this point.
Still they haven't talked about it. Why would they? It's not like that would change anything.
Or it would. It would put expectations up, and Tango doesn't know if he's ready for that.
What would Etho even expect from him? Dates? Kissing? To tell other people?
Tango is lost in his own thoughts, he barely hears Etho's question.
"How long do you think we still have till midnight?"
"Huh?" Tango looks up at him, taking a moment to register the question and as his brain catches up and he wants to reply, the fireworks are beginning to light up the night sky.
And Tango can't take his eyes off Etho, his face illuminated by the flickering lights all over the night sky.
What would be expected of them? Shouldn't they kiss now?
Does it matter what's expected of them?
"Happy new year, Etho" Tango says with a bright smile as he realizes it doesn't matter.
He can see Etho return the expression, see it in his eyes, his eyebrows, the way his cheeks move under the mask.
Carefully, Tango reaches out and pulls on the fabric and Etho doesn't stop him. He never has.
Slowly their lips meet, as if they're making this something special.
Tango smiles into the kiss. He wouldn't have expected to be the type of person who enjoys something as dumb as a kiss on new years but here he is. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course it feels silly and cheesy and neither of them really need it. But maybe that is part of the charm.
Once Tango pulls back he cant stop grinning at Etho. And that grin doesn't vanish when the taller one starts leaning his head on Tango's shoulder, slouching slightly to get comfortable.
Tango's tail wraps around his waist affectionately and he hears Etho say quietly, "Happy New Year, Tango."
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redocity · 3 days ago
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buck x cop reader with 7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc) and 2) hate fucking because of the whole rivalry thing between cops and firefighters
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𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘
7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc)
2) hate fucking
even buckley x fem!cop!reader | 1.5k | smut | masterlist.
WARNINGS | THIS POST IS 18+ MDNI. unprotected piv, buck dirty talks a whole lot, arguing during and after sex, creampie, porn no plot, uniformed sex, semi-public sex
𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!
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“Just fuck me already—”
How did you get here?
“Yeah, you’re a cop alright,” Buck huffed with a smile, gripping your hips and angling your ass upwards. “Impatient.”
Dragged into an empty office during a first-responders after party, Cargo pants tugged half way down your thighs.
“And you’re a firefighter,” You muttered back, forearms planted on the desk. “Cocky.”
And by a firefighter no less.
“You like it,” he responded, voice low in your ear.
He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, a breath leaving his parted lips.
“You’re the one who let me drag you in here, remember?”You squeeze your eyes closed as he curls his fingers upwards, a sharp breath breaking through your nose.
“You could have run away at any time but you didn’t. You want this,” he whispered, using his other hand to undo his belt.
“I wonder what your superiors would think— knowing that you’re getting fucked in a back office of some random party,” The sound of denim hitting the floor behind you, and the withdrawal of his fingers forces your eyes open again, an involuntary noise of disgruntlement leaving your throat.
“I bet they’d be shocked knowing that you’re getting pounded by someone that you didn’t even give your name too.” He lined himself up against your entrance, pushing inside torturously slow.
“God, they’d be pissed if they knew you were getting bent over by a— oh Jesus- by a Firefighter,” Seemingly half way through, Buck loses his patience, bottoming out with a harsh thrust that doesn’t stop at just that.
“So tight— fuck—” He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he set his pace, one you didn’t have any say in, not that you minded anyway.
Neither of you were completely inebriated, but a bit of alcohol made the whole situation a bit more fun—less worrying, if you will.
And honestly, at this point, what really could go wrong?
“Bet no one back at HQ knows you’ve got a pretty little cunt like this—” He breathes out a groan. “God-”
You bite back a groan of your own with your reply. “Do you always talk this much-?”
Buck didn’t seem to appreciate that question.
The sounds of skin clapping against skin were pretty loud in the confined space of the office, most definitely not helped by the occasional groans and whimpers shared between the two of you as Buck hardened the impact of his thrusts.
Anyone walking down the corridor outside would definitely know what you’d been up to.
He pushed your torso against the desk, his pace fast—furious—his grunts and curse words coming from behind you.
“Jesus you’re so tight—” he bit out, head lolling backwards and mouth left open in pleasure “Should’ve - oh- should’ve known you were a good fucking lay, just looking at you-”
God, how did you two end up like this?
You were bent over a desk in some random private office, getting railed by a firefighter you met less than an hour ago and loving every minute of it.
“You gonna come for me? You gonna come all over my cock?” He panted, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other coming down to your waist.
And obviously, the answer was a resounding yes.
The way you were feeling—his touch the sound of his voice, all of it was just so perfect. And as you came you were certain that this experience had ruined you for anyone else.
Buck would definitely never forget the sounds that were coming from you, the way you felt around him as you came, he knew that for sure.
He’d probably be thinking about this for weeks.
His pace became more frantic after that—desperate— chasing his own release and leaving you no time to recover from your own.
“You’re so fucking good—” he muttered, his hands gripping you, pulling you as close to him as possible. “Gonna fill you up-”
He was getting so close, and the temptation to spill his spend inside you was so present he couldn’t really refuse himself. “Gonna fill you up and let you go back to- oh Jesus- let you go back to the party with my come inside you-”
The image that it put in his head was just so perfect.
“Let you walk back out there- oh- let you talk to your colleagues while they all have no idea—”
They’d all wish they were him.
“No one- no one knowing that you’ve had your brains fucked out by a Firefighter—”
And the thought was so good—seeing you later, talking to all the people at that party, knowing that the reason you looked so flushed was because of him.
“And you’re gonna walk over and make small talk- pretend you’re not thinking about my come leaking out of you-”
Because honestly, he’d be shocked if you could think about anything else, if you weren’t still feeling him hours after this.
“Then you’re gonna find me and we’ll do it all over again-” Like hell was this ending tonight.
And that was it.
The last straw.
As his imagination ran away, his mind filled with thoughts of what you’d look like in the morning—after he’d gotten you alone again, that knot in his stomach finally snapped.
He came with a loud moan, his hips stuttered against yours, his hands on your waist gripping you so hard that you’d most definitely have little fingerprint shaped-bruises come morning.
He was completely fine with that.
The both of you just stayed like that for a few moments, your chests heaving. But slowly, he pulled out and took a few steps back, his eyes not once leaving you as he watches the drips of his spend drip down your thighs.
He was practically hard again by the time he tucked himself into his boxers and his pants, a sudden overwhelming urge to fuck you all over again encroaching on his conscience.
But he did have some self control.
He watched as you pushed yourself up—barely able to make yourself stand straight and he couldn’t help but mentally pat himself on the back. He watched you fix your clothes, your hands a little shaky, and a smile crept onto his face.
He’d done that to you.
He took another step back, his eyes on your face, watching a few different things pass through your features.
It seemed like you finally remembered where you were, what you’d both just done.
“Wow,” he said, his tone teasing, almost mocking. He ran a hand through his hair, still watching as you tried to regain some sort of composure.
“You alright there, officer?” He leaned against the edge of the desk, his eyes still roaming your body as you straightened yourself out.
“Yes- I’m fine,” you tried to sound annoyed but he’d be able to hear the breathless tone in your voice—god he was so full of himself.
“You sure?” He feigned innocence. “You look a little… disheveled,” he added, letting his eyes rake over you once more.
You tried to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the fact that you were still out of breath.
Honestly, the bastard was far too arrogant for his own good.
“Don’t inflate your own ego, it’s unbecoming,”
He feigned offense, a hand going up to his heart. “Officer, I am a hero,” he said, his tone overly dramatic, “Firefighters are literally the most humble first responders.”
“Yeah, you really seem like the picture of humility,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
“Oh please,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips, “Just say you enjoyed yourself. You’ll feel better,”
You wanted to hate him, you really did.
He was cocky and conceited and so full of himself, but you also couldn’t deny the fact that - for some reason - it all just made him so damn attractive.
“I hate you” you muttered, your eyes on the ground.
“No, you don’t,” he said, his voice so confident, so cocky, that it almost made you wanna punch him in his beautiful face.
“You don’t hate me, you think I’m hot as all hell,” he took a few steps closer, a smirk on his face, “and you love how I made you feel tonight.”
Damn him and his piercing blue eyes and his cocky smile and his stupid gorgeous body.
The bastard was absolutely right, and you hated every last bit of it.
“Get outta here, asshole,”
He smiles.
“Meet me out back in an hour,”
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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days ago
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Harry's an Introvert
I mentioned some of it in a reblog here and here, but kinda wanted to give it its full post with more quotes from the books as evidence.
Becouse Harry was raised in a cupboard, pretending to not exist at the Dursleys. He isn't loud or talkative and he doesn't like interacting with most people (some characters, like Sirius, are an exception). I want to bring up some quotes to prove it because Harry is not a boisterous jock, that was James Potter, not my boy Harry and I will never tire of talking about him.
Exhibit A: He doesn't really care for people beyond his immediate circle
I know this fandom jokes about how Harry doesn't know people he went to school with for 6 years and they take it as a sign Harry is unobservant, but that is not the case. Harry is incredibly observant, he just doesn't actually care about most people. He'd rather stick to his close group of friends and he has no desire to know/speak to anyone outside of this group. There are only 40 students in Harry's year, ~300 in all of Hogwarts, and Harry still doesn't even know all his year or all 70 Gryffindors:
together with a weedy-looking boy Hermione whispered was called Theodore Nott.
(OotP, Ch26)
“This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you’ve come across each other — ? No?” McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him. “— and this is Marcus Belby, I don’t know whether — ?” Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.
(HBP, Ch7)
Exhibit B: He isn't a yapper
Even in his own friend group, Harry doesn't actually speak much. Throughout the early books especially, most of what Harry thinks stays in his head:
Harry didn’t say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now — but he somehow thought that Hermione had gotten the point much better than Ron had.
(GoF, Ch23)
He often doesn't say anything to keep up the peace between him Ron and Hermione.
He actually finds Ron and Hermione's constant bantering exhausting at times. He is a quiet introvert who's friends with two certified yappers:
Harry was too used to their [Ron and Hermione's] bickering to bother trying to reconcile them; he felt it was a better use of his time to eat his way steadily through his steak-and-kidney pie, then a large plateful of his favorite treacle tart.
(OotP, Ch11)
While he likes Ron and Hermione, Harry doesn't like their loud bickering and he finds it annoying:
“Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots,” said Ron sagely. “Anyway, I’ve always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where’s the evidence he ever really stopped working for YouKnow-Who?” “I think Dumbledore’s probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn’t share it with you, Ron,” snapped Hermione. “Oh, shut up, the pair of you,” said Harry heavily, as Ron opened his mouth to argue back. Hermione and Ron both froze, looking angry and offended. “Can’t you give it a rest?” he said. “You’re always having a go at each other, it’s driving me mad.”
(OotP, Ch12)
Exhibit C: He doesn't speak up in class
We basically never see Harry raise his hand to answer a question in class. Usually he needs to be prompted by a teacher to answer:
“This means,” said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville’s small sputter of terror, “that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?” Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go.
(PoA, Ch7)
Even when Harry knows the answer to a question or can guess it like in the above quote, he never raises his hand to answer. He usually only answers if prompted by the teacher. Lupin is actually doing something really good here as a teacher. He knows Harry is likely to be able to know the answer so he forces him to participate because otherwise he won't. This is Lupin knowing how Harry is as a student — which is incredibly quiet.
The other teachers notice it too:
“Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.”
(DH, Ch33)
Modest and likable, in this case, translates to never talking except to make maybe snigger at a joke Ron made or talk when prompted. Dumbledore only finds him engaging because he talks to Harry near the Mirror of Erised. Most teachers probably barely recognize Harry's voice that first year.
Other characters are surprised Harry is talking back to Umbridge, not just because of what he's saying but because he's actually speaking in class:
Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk again. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.
(OotP, Ch12)
Something Harry Potter just doesn't really do if the teacher doesn't force him.
That being said, even when teachers force him to speak, even in that first Potions class with Snape, Harry being Harry is unwilling to show weakness. So he sasses Snape and comes off as confident. Because while he doesn't like talking in class, if he does, he'd do so confidently (at least in appearance).
Exhibit D: When upset, he talks even less
When Harry's upset — as in stressed or sad — he talks even less than normal. His coping mechanism for sadness is to burrow into himself and not talk to anyone:
I’m the weapon, Harry thought, and it was as though poison were pumping through his veins, chilling him, bringing him out in a sweat as he swayed with the train through the dark tunnel. [...] “Are you all right, Harry, dear?” whispered Mrs. Weasley, leaning across Ginny to speak to him as the train rattled along through its dark tunnel. “You don’t look very well. Are you feeling sick?” They were all watching him. He shook his head violently and stared up at an advertisement for home insurance. [...] “You look ever so pale. . . . Are you sure you slept this morning? You go upstairs to bed right now, and you can have a couple of hours’ sleep before dinner, all right?” He nodded; here was a ready-made excuse not to talk to any of the others, which was precisely what he wanted, so when she opened the front door he proceeded straight past the troll’s leg umbrella stand and up the stairs and hurried into his and Ron’s bedroom.
(OotP, Ch23)
“How’re you feeling?” asked Hermione. “Fine,” said Harry stiffly. “Oh, don’t lie, Harry,” she said impatiently. “Ron and Ginny say you’ve been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo’s.” “They do, do they?” said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed. “Well, you have!” she said. “And you won’t look at any of us!”
(OotP, Ch23)
He [Harry] and Hermione ate breakfast in silence. Hermione’s eyes were puffy and red; she looked as if she had not slept. They packed up their things, Hermione dawdling.
(DH, Ch16)
Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something to give to them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parents’ grave. As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave. He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore’s mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.
(DH, Ch16)
The sea was rushing against the rock somewhere nearby; Harry listened to it while the others talked, discussing matters in which he could take no interest, making decisions, Dean carried the injured Griphook into the house, Fleur hurrying with them; now Bill was really knowing what he was saying. [...] “I want to do it properly,” were the first words of which Harry was fully conscious of speaking. “Not by magic. Have you got a spade?” [...] Harry lost track of time. He knew only that the darkness had lightened a few degrees when he was rejoined by Ron and Dean. “How’s Hermione?” “Better,” said Ron. “Fleur’s looking after her.” Harry had his retort ready for when they asked him why he had not simply created a perfect grave with his wand, but he did not need it. They jumped down into the hole he had made with spades of their own and together they worked in silence until the hole seemed deep enough.
(DH, Ch24)
(I'll note I love that Ron and Hermione understand that sometimes Harry needs to just be around them silently. That sometimes he needs to not talk about it)
And in GoF, the fact he talks to Sirius about what upsets him is special. It's a testament to how much Harry trusts Sirius. He literally says he spoke more to Sirisu in that half an hour than he had in days:
“I’m —” For a second, Harry tried to say “fine” — but he couldn’t do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he’d talked in days — about how no one believed he hadn’t entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn’t walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron’s jealousy . . .
(GoF, Ch19)
Exhibit E: He hates getting a lot of attention
The prophet and Snape like to paint Harry as an arrogant attention seeker, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Not only is Harry not arrogant and has a pretty low self esteem, he despises getting a lot of attention and wishes to curse and hex people who look at him for too long because it makes him uncomfortable:
It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.
(GoF, Ch20)
People stared shamelessly as he approached. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. He had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping he would have to endure this term after all the “Chosen One” rumors in the Daily Prophet, but he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in a very bright spotlight.
(HBP, Ch7)
The third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs. “If there’s anyone else here who’s not from Gryffindor,” roared Harry, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, “leave now, please!” [...] Pleased though he was with his choices, Harry had also shouted himself hoarse at the many complainers and was now enduring a similar battle with the rejected Beaters. “That’s my final decision and if you don’t get out of the way for the Keepers I’ll hex you,” he bellowed.
(HBP, Ch11)
He hates the attention he's getting and the more traumatised and angry he gets, the louder he becomes because he needs an outlet.
Further Notes
While he is quiet, he isn't a pushover. As I mentioned here, his quiet often comes off as arrogance rather than meekness. He's quiet in a way that seems mysterious and intelligent rather than dorky and awkward. Even when he does act and feel awkward in many social situations, many people just don't read him as awkward. Like, he's awkward to himself inside his head, but most people who don't know him don't think about it that way:
“Mine was pretty quiet,” said Cho. For some reason, she was looking rather embarrassed. “Erm . . . there’s another Hogsmeade trip next month, did you see the notice?” “What? Oh no, I haven’t checked the notice board since I got back. . . .” “Yes, it’s on Valentine’s Day. . . .” “Right,” said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. “Well, I suppose you want to — ?” “Only if you do,” she said eagerly. Harry stared. He had been about to say “I suppose you want to know when the next D.A. meeting is?” but her response did not seem to fit. “I — er —” he said. “Oh, it’s okay if you don’t,” she said, looking mortified. “Don’t worry. I-I’ll see you around.” She walked away. Harry stood staring after her, his brain working frantically. Then something clunked into place. “Cho! Hey — CHO!” He ran after her, catching her halfway up the marble staircase. “Er — d’you want to come into Hogsmeade with me on Valentine’s Day?” “Oooh, yes!” she said, blushing crimson and beaming at him. “Right . . . well . . . that’s settled then,” said Harry
(OotP, Ch24)
This is Harry in his most awkward I think. He reads the situation completely incorrectly. But, notice he doesn't ask Cho about the D.A. meeting, it's only in his head, outwardly, it looks to her like he was trying to let her down gently, not like he had no idea what she was talking about. And when he does ask her later, she's the blushing mess, not him. Even if Harry stammers a bit, he gets his point across with a similar level of awkwardness to Cho. It's the typical awkwardness of a 15-year-old asking a girl on a date for the first time and not anything special or beyond the norm. I'd actually say he's more confident about it than many of the guys I went to school with.
TL;DR
He doesn't enjoy talking to most people, but he isn't shy or meek. Nor is he an awkward bubbling fool. He's just an introvert who often rather not to talk to people. But he comes across as a confident quiet, not a shy quiet, because when he does speak — as unoften as it is for people who aren't his friends or Sirius — it's loud, and clear, and confidant.
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sschizoid · 2 days ago
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would you be willing to do Tulpar crew getting sick headcanons 👀?
like, who’s popping zinc at the first signs of A Symptom, who burns themself into the ground ignoring it, who’s man flu about it, etc
anon !! gives u a big kiss i love this question sm
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curly
has a pretty strong immune system and only gets sick about once a year, if even that. but when he does, he's not much different from a sickly victorian child withering away from consumption
he lives alone, so any attention he can't get from friends or family checking in on him he gets from social media. posts selfies of himself sick in bed and captions them on his story as "feelin like shit lol anyone else sick rn?" immediate 30+ likes in the first few minutes of being posted
all the while is absolutely downing those emergen-c immune booster supplements with coconut water for the electrolytes. he's trying to get over this cold as fast as humanly possible because honestly it sucks and is super inconvenient
jimmy
just has the worst immune system. gets absolutely sick as a dog— pallid skin, sunken eyes, the works. he's pretty used to it at this point and just expects himself to get sick 3-5 times a year at minimum
at the same time he'll go about his day as usual, now just twice as irritable. spreads his shit to everyone he meets because he refuses to stay home. what, he's just supposed to put his life on hold because of a little cough?
the most he'll do in terms of medicine is down 80mL of nyquil (way too much) before bed and hope for the best
anya
a complete mother hen when friends and family are sick, but the second she falls ill, her executive function is all over the place
stays home, but tries to keep herself busy anyway. uses the extra time to catch up on household chores, to rearrange some cabinets, or to catch up on some of her favorite shows
tries to eat healthy in the meantime, as she knows it'll make her feel better faster. but sometimes she just can't help herself and has to have either a pint of ice cream or a full bag of chips for dinner. she's allowed !!
swansea
the last thing he wants is to be fussed over. will insist he's fine to anyone that shows concern, but is still sure to take care of himself behind the scenes
is a hardcore vick's vaporub truther. the second he feels congested or has a tickle in his throat, he's slathering that shit on like its nobody's business. also he just really enjoys the smell of menthol
can sleep for days when sick, and honestly, he probably needs it. his wife thought he was dead once but it was just a combination of the cold and sleep apnea
daisuke
big believer in the whole "feed a cold, starve the flu" mentality. while he himself isn't the best cook, his mother makes sure to feed him lots of broth-based soups and high-fiber foods
he drinks a lot of tea with lemon and honey, usually making a pot at a time and just keeping it his bedside table for easy refills
big cough drop fan, specifically the ones that taste like cherry candy and nothing at all like actual medicine. this of course usually leads to him finishing the whole bag in one day, but it's just an excuse to buy more in other fun flavors
--
THIS WAS REALLY FUN tysm for your request! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾
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