#Bullishness

[frownyalfred]

the “We should get married so we can’t ever be forced to testify against each other” trope except it’s Bruce and Clark as a catch all for any/all crimes committed by Bruce (as a vigilante) Clark (usually as a party to vigilantism, but also all the lies/forgery to look human) and both of them (money laundering, fraud, etc committed to create and fund the Watchtower).

Because if one identity gets found out, it’s not hard to connect the dots. And if it ever came to a trial, or a military tribunal, no one would see spousal privilege being invoked by Batman & Superman coming. Not from a mile away.

[whiskeyswifty]

One of my favorite things about TTPD is definitely the thread of what makes an artistic genius a genius that runs through it. Specifically, the very concept of genius as it pertains to Taylor swift and how she herself has evolved that definition within her own field, how she mocks it and interrogates it on this album. But also the way it conflates with how we dub her a genius these days; artistically, strategically, philosophically (depending on your mileage). The crux of the issue ultimately is that historically, geniuses are often characterized as men who are lonely and flawed to the point of unsociable. It is in fact their genius that tortures them and isolates them and subsumes them and makes them flawed. And then in turn, the only men who can create great works of genius must also possess those traits because they are decided markers of genius, and so on and so forth. Women geniuses, the few that earn that moniker, in turn are often marked by caveats tacked onto any praise or recognition of their genius work. (It’s all non-cis-men “geniuses” really but for the sake of this discussion, we’re talking specifically about women v. Men because Taylor is a cis woman in a predominantly cis male controlled space) In Taylor’s case, it’s fearless deserved AOTY because it’s impressive….. for a teenage girl writing about teenage girl things, instead of simply saying the album itself being a great work of genius deserving of the award regardless of her age and it’s subject matter. Another being instead of simply saying she is skilled at distilling the human experience, she is deemed adept at distilling the girl experience, the girlhood of her weepy, exuberant little girl audiences. Always a qualifier, always a subset and an othering of female genius. It’s genius…. Within the confines of the handicap of being a woman. 

If you trace back her relationship to this confine, at first, she did try to fit into this genius mold sculpted by men. Young and girlish as she was, she still peddled the idea that she too was churning out these genius songs from a sort of tortured and lonely isolation, albeit scribbled in gel pen ink with kicking feet and yearning sighs, but in isolation all the same. I say peddled not because she isn’t a fabulous solo songwriter but she wasn’t often in total isolation as per the (male) genius handbook, and there in lies the very thing her genius begins to push back on, and the genius presentation of women that often clashes with the defined genius mold of men. She’s incredibly social. Vivacious and thrives being around friends and family, and her line of work traffics in that vivaciousness as a pop star, smiling and dancing and giggling on stage for thousands. She enjoys collaboration and throwing parties and meeting new people professionally and personally. She seeks out interactions with her own fans, to varying degrees over the years but still her hand is always reaching out across the barricade. How much of this is purely a product of a public persona and how much is her innate personal qualities is a moot argument, because the fact remains the same that this is the persona we are presented with, who is the antithesis of the male genius. And it’s not to say that she isn’t lonely or flawed or tortured about it. 

TTPD specifically interrogates that idea both through the lens of observing a guy who fancies himself a genius in that very male way, but also her own representation of genius in the world and how she repudiates the male genius mold foisted upon her. Mocking the stereotypical misanthropic traits of this male “genius” she encountered on songs like the title track, but also mocking the way he (and us by extension) try to classify her as a genius with all the trappings of one. Going as far as to refer to herself as an idiot in contrast, not intellectually perhaps but in terms of her comprehension of the world and her place in it, she doesn’t feel like a genius, not the way the man she’s speaking to seems to cartoonishly categorize them anyway. She doesn’t want to hole up in the Chelsea hotel with a typewriter wallowing in the burden of her genius because she doesn’t feel burdened by it that way, but rather her genius makes her curious and compelled to continue living boldly and blindly. If his (and the world’s) idea of genius is that willfully lonely tortured poet, then she’s much happier to cast herself as a modern idiot. She continues to push back as the album progresses, wherein she doesn’t claim she doesn’t get lonely or she isn’t flawed, but simply that she doesn’t define herself that way or even let those feelings steer her. Broken Heart is a quite literal example where she endures one of the biggest heartbreaks known to humankind and touts her ability to continue to perform her job due to the fortitude of her compartmentalization, not letting it decide how she will live her life. The Prophecy, where she bangs her fists against the forces that insist that she must remain in the lonely tortured poet mold in exchange for this genius, be they arcane or the small mindedness of modern world around her. She becomes animalistic, feral as she howls at the moon even, refusing to be shackled. Which brings us to Who’s Afraid, the most violent push back against the male genius you could say. She does not retreat to the folklore cabin in the woods as she once did when she is lonely and flawed and tortured, but instead lashes out and monstrously displays her emotion in the faces of those who scorned her, promises to never retreat and to instead haunt them, and perhaps all of us, forever. A Frankenstein’s monster of herself, where she is both doctor and creation. A story whose comparison is apt for its subject matter, but also in its creation that gets to the core of how she redefined genius. 

Mary Shelley, a woman, wrote Frankenstein, a seminal work of literary genius, and while the book is about a genius tortured in isolation by his genius creations, she didn’t write it in lonely tortured isolation herself. She came up with it in a house full of friends where they played a game to see who could come up with the best ghost story, for fun. The impetus of its creation was to share it with others and emotionally connect with them. The manuscript closes out TTPD with a harrowing but frank recounting of a transformationally damaging relationship in her life where the song itself confronts how she hid the scope of the damage from others, and even to a degree herself, behind the genius works she created about that relationship. Ironically, some of which are the single works that had the big wigs and critics and greek chorus of the music world finally cement her genius. The lemonade out of lemons she could have said and been done with it. But it wasn’t the declaration of genius that those works afforded her that brought her closure and peace on the matter, as the Manuscript dictates. It was the way the work of artistic genius was received and emotionally resonated and connected with people that allowed her to emotionally connect to it herself over the years and create more art from it until she finally understood the experience fully. Understood what the agony of it all had been for back in her early twenties, and thereby understood what the genius is all for now. If being a woman is seen as a handicap by her genius peers or by those who decide genius in others, merely a hysterical woman or a weepy little girl, perhaps it also could be a huge reason for why she’s able to redefine it, due to her access and ability to embrace those hysterical weepy emotions as only women are allowed to do in modern society writ large.

And so Taylor reshapes the identifying image of our genius as a bitter, tortured, stoic man in his cabin into a smiling face of a woman overwhelmed by a thousand emotions, clasped hands reaching out over barricades. Or one of eyes searching and recognizing herself in the faces of 80,000 people in an audience. Even seeking artistic collaboration with her friends that often results in sharing ghost stories of their own kind out of a desire to connect with each other. As sad and heartbroken and lonely she may feel, she will never be alone and the great mistake of the tortured and isolated male genius is thinking that he must be. If you believe that there is some divine purpose that bestows artistic genius upon a person, what Taylor Swift discovered and redefines and insists upon is that it is not a lifelong curse of loneliness but a gift of boundless and eternal human connection. 

[unatkozorobotok]

[nebulaedaniel]

absolutely fuck eurovision but what in hell is going on why is the guy from the netherlands disqualified but israel can compete

[recentlyheardcom]

Dogecoin Ready For $0.3? Analysts Bullish Price Breakout Attempt

Over the weekend, Dogecoin (DOGE) soared 11% after the final market efficiency. The value surge led the dog-themed token to retest key resistance ranges, which fueled a bullish prediction by crypto analysts. Traders additionally shared a optimistic sentiment following Elon Musk’s current feedback concerning cryptocurrencies and the biggest memecoin by market capitalization. Associated…

[sanskriticollection]

Hello friends 👋

Today it's Bail Pola

On this day, we celebrate a festival dedicated to the bulls and oxen 🐂 by being thankful for their contributions to agricultural fields.

On this day, bulls are given bath from their horn to the tails. Then their horns are colored. After which, the rope in their neck are replaced with Decorative bells.

Bulls are given rest on this day and they are worshipped.

And So, Happy Bail Pola to you all ☺ 🐂

[emilyj90]

Bullish Marubozu: An Important Signal for Uptrend 

Among candlestick patterns in market analysis, the Bullish Marubozu candlestick is a bullish indicator that is simple to understand and very effective. Unlike other candlesticks, which may show shadows or wicks, the Bullish Marubozu is unique in its simplicity—it has no shadows.

What Is the Bullish Marubozu?

The Bullish Marubozu candlestick is a bullish candlestick pattern that shows strong buying pressure throughout the trading session. It has a long white or green body with no shadows or wicks, meaning the price opened at its lowest and closed at its highest point.

The name “White Marubozu” is another name for a Bullish Marubozu candlestick that combines its appearance and Japanese origins. “White” refers to the bullish candle color, and “Marubozu,” meaning “bald” in Japanese, describes its lack of wicks.

Characteristics of the Bullish Marubozu Candlestick

Bullish Marubozu: Features a long, solid green body with little to no wicks.

Full Bullish Marubozu: No wicks at all, showing the strongest bullish control throughout the session.

Open Bullish Marubozu: No lower wick but a small upper wick, indicating a strong upward move with slight selling pressure at the end.

Close Bullish Marubozu: A small lower wick but no upper wick, reflecting strong buying with a slightly higher open.

Read more: FinxpdX

Download PDF: 35 Powerful Candlestick Patterns

[negrowhat]

"So what if I lose?" Is such a fucking cornball loser thing to say Winner.

[harinibw]

The cryptocurrency market entered the second week of July on a bearish trajectory. Solana (SOL) has experienced notable fluctuations amid rising volatility. Analyst Jelle highlighted SOL's potential to reach $600 despite setbacks, indicating long-term bullish prospects.

In the past 24 hours, Solana moved up 2.08% with trading volume at $3,041,397,181, suggesting a bullish reversal at $141.05. The Moving Average Convergence Divergence (MACD) indicates weak pressure, while the 50-day EMA is resistance and the 200-day EMA is support, showing a tug-of-war between bullish and bearish forces.

Analyst TheoTrader is confident in a bullish turnaround for Injective (INJ). INJ is trading at $20.36, up 6.68% in 24 hours but down 11.98% over the week, with a trading volume of $122,930,406. With a market cap of $1,902,309,767, INJ shows significant market interest. SOL and INJ's performances underscore the unpredictable nature of the cryptocurrency market.

[wecoinverse]

Bitcoin traders are gearing up for a promising July as #BTC #ETFs witness a remarkable inflow of $124 million.

Could this be the start of a new bullish trend? 🚀📈

[fazcinatingblog]

Swans villain??? This can't be right. No, papley is the evil Swans villain

[tiodolma]

one thing that just struck me about merlin x morgana is their relationship with money.

Morgana uses it extensively in exchange for goods, services and information. Money and magic fuels her movement/rebellion/invasions.

Merlin consistently is implied to be poor, broke and only gets extra coin when he cheats at tavern games. Merlin's people are more focused on unquestionable loyalty and devotion rather than practicality (real world problems and trade).

I think this is what makes Merlin's radical movement so inefficient and slow-moving. Dude doesn't have funding, noble backing, effective word of mouth/propaganda despite being the most powerful eldritch horror in the land.

Meanwhile morgana is the one who's consistently on the ground, mingling with people, her goons, her potential allies and potential enemies, using the currency, material and immaterial goods, trade and natural movement of people to further her cause.

They both experienced extreme poverty already btw. But Morgana always seems to rise above such setbacks all the time. Is it really so surprising that Morgana was more successful in her schemes and he was not?

[tikus-library]

"Bullshit"

Avengers AU

Characters: Brock x Reader

Posted: Oct 20th

WARNINGS: smut, sex, oh yeah they kiss

A/N: all future writings will be linked thru Ao3 with a small teaser of the chapter posted here.

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

Fuck, fuck, there were still nurses that would come in… You made a noise of dissatisfaction when he stopped, "the nurses…"

"I'm a big girl and utterly consenting!" You cried indignantly at his hesitation.

He snorted and shifted off you just as the comm in the room buzzed. "A nurse has been notified of your elevated heart rate Ms. Y/N and–"

Bullshit - Chapter 12

[bolontiku]

"Bullshit"

Avengers AU - Chapter 11

Characters: Brock, reader, OC's, Nat

Posted: Oct 6th

A/N: please don't hate me? *hides*

WARNINGS: physical violence, guns, kidnapping, cursing, as always no under 18 please

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

It became a part of your morning.

HE became a part of your morning.

'Be there in ten'

Brock.

You smiled. Heart warming as you finished getting ready, you stood in the garage as he pulled up and climbed in, sometimes the smaller car but you liked his large SUV, it seemed more his character.

He didn't walk away from your side anymore, instead striding into the building with his usual arrogance, smirking with a feral quality that made you shake your head. There were times when he would drop his arm on your shoulders while talking to others, the boys seemed to enjoy watching him do that.

You weren't sure what it was that made him seemingly change, there was something… you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Then there were the times you imagined he wanted to say something to you. Right after the morning's hugs he would hesitate, unable to look you in the eyes for some reason his gaze would drop to your lips and he would shake his head before walking away.

You looked around, pulling your phone out for a second to peek at the picture you had saved from your texts.

It had been a dream.

A dream you were certain. But then there was this. This picture Shelly had sent you.

"Morning Y/N!"

You nearly sent your phone flying when Shelly appeared behind you. "Mornin!"

She giggled and shook her head, getting ready for the day.

*

"Boss, I haven't seen Y/N lately. Did you upset her?"

"Kinda miss her muffins…"

"She's always so nice to us even when we look like hell."

"You are being nice to her right?"

"Did you take her to that fancy restaurant yet?"

"I think she likes Italian?"

"Wait, have you even kissed her yet?"

Brock turned and glared at the group of men that stood now holding their breaths waiting for a reply. "The fuck does that matter to you?"

There was an immediate uproar.

"Holy fucking shit!"

"She probably thinks you hate her if you haven't kissed her yet!"

"Y/N deserves better than this-"

"Do you think she'd like one of us?"

Brock's eyes jerked from one man to the other, the fuck was happening right now? Were they really discussing which one could steal you from him? It only occurred to him just then that you could decide to date one of them, he hadn't asked you to date him, he hadn't even given you a proper kiss.

"HEY!" His bark reverberated off the walls, the men's attention quickly falling to him, "fuck all of you, run laps, give me lizards and don't give up till I come back."

The men groaned as he snagged a towel and bottle of water. He was gonna fix this right now. They'd be too damned tired to even think of walking, much less limping, by the help desk to bug you.

*

You waved at the young woman you had just directed as she walked away, the man now walking towards you making your smile disappear.

"Y/N… can we talk?"

"Sure!" You didn't move from your spot.

He looked around and turned his stare back at you, smiling brightly. It didn't suit him, all teeth and it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Privately?"

Shelly stared at you as you glanced around.

"Well-"

"It will only take a moment, what am I gonna do, kidnap you?" He scoffed and followed it up with a hollow laugh. "Come on, I just… let me apologize in quiet."

You sighed, lunch was in thirty minutes, Brock would be here soon. You nodded and shot Shelly a quick look, smiling to reassure her. "I'll be right back."

Shelly stood and watched the two of you head to the stairway, she bit her bottom lip and looked around, she didn't like the way a stone settled in her tummy. If she was overstepping she would apologize, but she didn't like that idiot, and she didn't entirely trust him. Skirting the desk she hurried to the door the two of you had disappeared through and carefully slipped into the hall.

Neither of you were there, it struck her as odd and she pushed forwards. His voice was too loud in the small hallway, too harsh, and he pushed you till you stumbled. Grabbing your elbow and forcing you to walk.

"What are you doing?!" She cried out, angry that he hadn't changed at all. What was his problem with you anyhow?! "Y/N- come here! I'm going to call Brock! And Mr. Stark, this has gone overboard, you would think that he would learn!" She cried out in surprise as he suddenly loomed over her, her breath stopping.

You screamed, "SHELLY RUN!"

*

"Hey!"

"Ken doll," Brock nodded at Blake and craned his neck.

"Oh! I think they went to get some snacks, it's been a busy day and when I got here the desk was alone? I thought she might have gone to lunch with you…"

Brock hummed, he wondered what your lips looked like after a few bites. "They should be back in a few then…" he should have done this already. He had dropped you off this morning, wrapping his arms around your softer frame and burying his face in your hair, strawberries, always strawberries. You had hummed when he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, smiling brightly when he pulled away.

Every morning since the sleep over it had been the same. Hug and a forehead kiss, you asking if he was OK for lunch? He worked his schedule to match yours with the exception of a few missions here and there. He thought about the way you leaned into him at times and remembered when he first came to the help desk.

The others had visibly shrank from him, quick to push you towards him like some sacrificial offering. But you? You looked up at him and smiled, it had been the first directed his way in a long time. Everyone just scowled or frowned at him.

And the second time he spoke to you, you had reprimanded him. He had been in a shitty mood, but you had no time for that, scolding him for barking at you, "if you give me an attitude then I won't help you and good luck getting one of the others to help! You act so mean all the time but you need help too- that's why you're here!"

He grinned at the memory.

"Brock?"

He looked up to find Natasha hurrying towards him only to stop and motion him to follow her. He did, not liking the fact that she wasn't speaking, there was something wrong. And he soon found himself in a back room and facing Shelly with a swollen lip.

She was surprised when he caught her chin in his fingers and immediately burst into tears, "he took her!"

"Who?" He demanded, he had an idea, but he needed confirmation. The moment she spoke everything quietened, he should have dealt with this earlier. This was his fault.

*

It hurt.

You had tried to get between Shelly and Harris, it hadn't ended well. He had punched her square in the face knocking her out, but you? He had slammed his elbow into you, leaving you gasping for air and weak, you had barely been able to stand but he had bodily dragged you out of the building.

You didn't know where you were and he had left you alone in a small room, one you suspected was a closet of some sorts. It was surprising when you checked your pockets you found your phone, you quickly set it to silent and noticed an unread message.

Brock: I'm coming for you.

You let out a little sob, hugging your phone for a second before responding.

Y/N: I'm scared

You put your ear to the door when you heard movement, people arguing. Harris yelling, shouting that this was the worst idea. Then silence, you pressed closer holding your breath, toppling over when the door swung open.

"What was the point of this?!"

"To get revenge! How dare she try to leave me behind?! And that guy?! He gets to push you around?! Because of her?!"

You blinked, staring up at the two closest to you, trying to keep your phone out of sight. "Ashley?" Your voice cracked as she leaned down, snatching your phone and throwing it across the room.

"You left her phone with her?! Good dammit you are an imbecile!"

Harris reached out and snagged her hair in his hand, you scrambled up to your feet as he growled at her, ready to defend her. "Fucking bitch, this was all your idea, you do it better!"

You didn't understand. Ashley laughed. And you watched in disgust as Harris kissed her.

*

Her signal blinked and disappeared. Brock let out a snarl, his team looked at each other. This was no joke, this wasn't an exercise, this was Y/N they were going after.

Harris had kidnapped her.

They didn't know why but they had seen the video. It hadn't been pretty. For some reason you had tried to get between him and the pretty blond, had you underestimated the man? He had always been quick to anger, but everything he had gotten had been justified. There was no reason he should be screwing around with you, but there he was on surveillance cam. Did he not realize this was a death sentence?

"Go fucking faster" Brock bit out, the quinjet answering as they braced themselves.

The building was across town, in the rundown portion, warehouses that were practically empty.

They made their way in quick, each moving when the other did, practiced and confident in one another. There was no one on the way in, Benny pausing and placing a hand on Brock's shoulder as they closed in. He knew that the man was desperate to get to Y/N, but they had to stick together.

"They want me," Brock bit out.

The team glanced at one another and nodded, two moving to get higher up, another two rounding to find another entry point.

Brock took a breath and stepped through the door.

*

You looked up, tears springing unbidden.

"You alright?" He asked, voice rough and loud in the now silent room.

He tensed as Ashley nudged the back of your head roughly with a gun, still you nodded at him. "Of course she is, she's my baby sister, not going to let anything happen to her!"

Brock glanced around, the sister, but it had been Harris Shelly had named, Harris they had seen on screen. "Where's the boyfriend? Heard he left you once you couldn't maintain him?"

"Brock!" You flinched when the gun was pressed harder to your head, why was he antagonizing her?

"Got a new boyfriend, one that isn't afraid of standing up to you."

He took a step closer, trying to find a spot that was clear of you, you would be devastated if he killed your sister, he wouldn't mind but the thought of you crying over such a sack of shit- "that right?" He asked, licking his lips.

"BROCK!"

They came out of nowhere, at least that's what it seemed like to you. Harris and three other men, moving in quickly and attacking. Brock reacted, blocking and striking back.

"See that? They're gonna put him down." Ashley crowed proudly as Brock bounced from one hit into another.

You smirked, looking over your shoulder at the one you had thought was your sister. "You don't know him like I do," you bit back. You jumped up when others broke through, Brock's men, his strike team. They moved swiftly and attacked quicker, jumping into the fight, it was really unfair. Though they left Brock and Harris alone, Harris didn't have many friends, only the few that he could pay for and the few that held a grudge against Brock themselves. Though those were quickly backtracking at the sight of his strike team.

Ashley didn't like the way it was going, it was fucking failing. Why had these others shown up?! It was just supposed to be Brock. That was it. And then she saw the red head. How?! You were completely pathetic, with your stupid smiles and dumb happy little attitude, all the time. Pretending everything was going to be okay, acting like nothing bothered you.

She let out an angry growl, this was so unfair! She watched as Harris hit Brock hard, sending him stumbling back for a moment. "I'll show him!" She snarled, lifting her gun as Brock moved back towards Harris, arm cocked for a hit.

You screamed, panic and terror turning your blood cold before you reacted without thinking. He was too busy fighting Harris, he wouldn't see! He wouldn't know! Ashley pulled at your hair as you wrapped your arms around hers, tugging her close like you had seen Nat do while training. "Let go idiot!" She shouted, "once he's gone- it'll all go back to normal! Y/N!!!" She yelled angrily, "fine! Have it your way!!"

Brock managed to knock Harris down before the widow was there, his team having subdued the others, he turned and ran as shots rang out his heart stopping as you crumpled to the ground. He stopped short of you, knees buckling and reaching out.

"Don't touch her!" Ashley screeched, it was all coming undone, she was supposed to get rid of him- make him realize you weren't worth the effort so she could have you back. Back to crying, back to apologizing and paying for everything. She ground her teeth as he looked up at her.

"Do it."

"WHAT?!" Her voice pitched into mania.

"Do it," he repeated, fingers grazing over your side where an ugly red spot was seeping into your uniform.

"Stupid-"

Brock jolted, covering your body with his, he had heard you. It wasn't his imagination. You had called him stupid. His heart thundered so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. He didn't hear Ashley scream when he moved so quickly, didn't hear Nat cursing as she struck, her Widow Bite taking your sister down.

He didn't hear his team shouting or the commotion that followed.

He was concentrating solely on the sound of your breath.

It hurt worse than Harris hitting you.

It hurt worse than losing your breath.

But hearing him tell her to do it- you let out a little sob as he turned you onto your back, large hands shaking as he tore your uniform up off your tummy. You protested, trying to shove the material back embarrassed as his team circled around you, Nat admonishing you and demanding you allow it.

And still you cried when he sat back on his haunches, whiskey brown eyes closing in relief, "grazed-" he bit the word out, as if he was struggling to breathe.

And really he couldn't, not with the lump that had settled in his throat, not with the instant memory he would never forget of you crumbling to the ground like that. Not when he had stopped breathing because you hadn't moved for two fucking minutes.

You sat up slowly, pushing your uniform blouse down and shoving Benny's hands away, an angry pout on your lips. And you hit him.

Brock blinked.

Nat pulled back and the men looked away, a few stepping back over to where Harris and the others were.

You hit him and cried out when the song reminded you it was there. "SO STUPID!" You shouted when he caught your wrists in his hands. "You're not ALLOWED to die!"

"Oh, baby!" He cooed.

You shoved at him angrily, "no! NO! You're not allowed! Do you understand me?!" You couldn't stop sobbing, big fat tears falling freely at the thought of this world without him. "Say it!"

"Baby please just, lemme lookit you a second-?"

"No!" You shook your head violently, still struggling against him. "Say it!"

"Y/N-"

"SAY IT!"

The more you struggled the more you flinched from pain and he sighed, biting out the words is absolute begrudement, "I am not allowed to die!!"

You stared at him and he cocked his head to the side before he dragged you into his lap. The moment he seated you across his thighs you broke down into incomprehensible sobs and wrapped yourself around him. Brock hushed you, pressing a kiss to your temple, and running his hands over your back in short circles.

He had almost lost you.

The thought hurt more than he had thought he could endure.

He coughed and buried his face in your hair, his grip tightening on you as you went limp in his arms.

Nat tapped his shoulder, "c'mon, she fainted, it was too much for her. Let's get her back?"

He nodded, throat tight, as he easily lifted you in his arms.

Bullshit.

[carebearbro]

Even the bull gets a “wat” face in the Showdown.  Yet again, season 3 is full of crazy animation.  

[cajolions]

watching The Terror has rlly dampened the feeling of awe I used to get when listening to Stan Rogers' Northwest Passage. Like hm. Maybe this is not so romantic and glorious and tragic as might be implied. harmonies still go hard tho.