#because sometimes you try and you get shut down

[whetstonefires]

this should be a clear and straightforward distinction to make, and in principle it is, and many issues can be resolved by applying it.

like, hitting your friends because you are struggling to process your feelings is kind of a no-brainer; no one should get to do that. more accurately, no one should be expected to put up with that.

in practice, there is a very wide horrible grey zone where it can be genuinely difficult even for a third party to distinguish whether one party is 'policing the other one's emotions' or the other is in fact 'taking actions that create a toxic environment.'

sometimes both of these things are in fact happening at once!

because without really thoughtful and well-developed communication techniques, it is much easier to react to someone's distressing emotional behaviors by trying to shut down the entire reaction, by whatever means come to hand, than by targeting the specific manner of expression that you experience as harmful.

and at the same time, a very common way to invalidate someone's right to feel something is to consistently reject any way they could possibly betray the existence of the feeling, and categorize it as emotional manipulation or other boundary-crossing behavior, ensuring that they are always in the wrong and you are in control.

(you don't even have to decide you want to get that result and scheme toward it, to become emotionally abusive in this mode; you just have to have a habit of explaining why anything you don't like is objectively bad and wrong.)

and if you suspect someone of doing this to you, even unconsciously, it's very hard to trust their feedback on your behaviors to be reasonable or fair, or even fundamentally truthful.

at which point healthy communication has become impossible, and you have to like. negotiate a detente.

Since the OP made their post unrebloggable (and blocked me. Both actions they are well in with their right to do)

I'm going to make my response it's own post because I think the point is important

-

As someone who is autistic and has BPD and CPTSD and loads of trauma yes you sometimes need to change how you interact with others to keep people around

When I was 13 I hit the few friends I had when I was angry

I had to change that in order to keep those friendships

When I was in my early 20s if I was losing an disagreement with my husband I would threaten to kill myself. My husband told me it hurt him and was cruel and manipulative behaviour, because it was.

So I worked hard to change that to keep my relationship

It's easy to say "I shouldn't have to change for others" and that's true to an extent. You shouldn't change your interests or passions or dim your light. And you should have space to be imperfect and flawed and not have to pretend your ugly bits aren't real. But if something you are doing it causing other people harm you kinda need to change that.

That's called "living in a society"

People adapt to each other and make space for each other in their lives. You adapt to them and they adapt to you

You start being more diligent about throwing away the empty toilet roll because it really bothers them. They start warning you before they run the blender because you hate loud noises

I stopped threatening to kill myself because I was mad I was losing an argument and my husband stopped being so vocally judgemental amount media he personally dislikes

There is a certain type of person who heard the phrase "your emotions are valid" and took that to mean "my emotional reactions and my behaviour are always objectively correct because my emotions are valid and if you have an emotional response or react to what I'm doing negatively then you are wrong and you can't be hurt because my emotions are valid"

And that's a recipe for disaster

Your emotions are valid to feel. They are how you feel and there are reasons you feel the way you do

However, your reactions and behaviour are something you can learn to control and can be irrational

We live in a society and we as people change each other as we interact and that isn't necessarily a bad thing

[flowerbunnyboo]

PROSTATE PLAY | back

starring: oc (Adam) x male reader

summary: Adam is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: this is a repost. I have written one with a kpop idol. Thought I should post this without a kpop idol for the non kpop fans because I love the sayuncle videos

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Adam’s urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Adam, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Adam couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Adam began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Adam’s gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Adam reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Adam murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Adam’s touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Adam carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Adam’s hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Adam began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Adam’s touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Adam smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Adam’s breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Adam abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Adam said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Adam had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Adam’s finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Adam soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Adam finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Adam must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body Adam the invasion. Adam pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Adam began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Adam set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Adam obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Adam continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Adam buried himself to the inside and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Adam collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Adam lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Lets say Mn became a regular at the clinic

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[loverafey]

first !   bsf!rafe x virgin f!reader

          ꕀ warnings - smut, lots of kissing, fingering, rafe's a softie and just so gentle with his best friend :( wc -  2.5k.

sitting beside rafe cozily while he was sprawled on his bed, scrolling away on his phone, your eyes read over the words printed on the book you were holding, a peaceful silence lingering in the air.

he had invited you over to spend the night, just a simple innocuous sleepover even, not admitting that he’d gotten a little bit too lonely in this house that was too big for a single person. sarah usually spent time with john b now, wheezie was away for a few weeks to spend time with their grandma while he was here handling all the work — maybe he should also buy a nice apartment for himself. maybe that’d be less lonely.

you were a bit too invested into the plot, some cheesy romance novel that you were somehow enjoying. cliches were not that bad sometimes, after all. you found yourself unconsciously smiling at all these events happening to the protagonist, a foreign ache blooming in your chest. envy? or perhaps just mere curiousity, you’ve never had a decent experience with dating, after all.

not even a first kiss, and it embarrassed you greatly.

almost everyone you knew was either already dating or experienced in this field, and no matter how much you tried to hide your lack of knowledge, it was clearly obvious. you weren’t innocent by all means, the book in your hands was evidence enough, the scenes already accelerating to something more heated. though reading such things sometimes felt like a self sabotaging method because it always left you craving something similar.

your eyes drifted over to rafe, watching the neutral expression adorning his face, one arm folded under his head while his other hand held his phone, scrolling through whatever. you couldn’t help but take advantage of the fact that he was not looking at you, admiring the way those plump lips of his were parted, his hair freshly shaved into a buzz cut. despite your initial shock when your best friend had revealed this new style of his to you cheekily, you loved this haircut on him a lot. everything looked good on him, though you’d rather not admit that to anyone, especially not him.

his eyes were half lidded, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him unconsciously lick his bottom lip, blood rushing to your cheeks, the book in your hand long forgotten. why was your body even reacting like this, so eager to memorise every inch of his face?

“staring a little bit too much, aren’t ya?” his calm voice broke you out of your trance, earning a soft gasp from you as you quickly looked away, the action of no avail. he’d already caught you.

“nope, just zoning out.” it was clear that you were lying. he noted how you were a little bit too squirmy, avoiding his eyes — flustered. he couldn’t help but feel a smirk rising on his lips, sitting up on his bed as he put his phone aside, all of his attention now pointed at you.

“you’re lying.” he scoffed, leaning forward.

silence once again fell within his bedroom, short yet tense. you could hear your heartbeat getting louder in your ears, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“rafe, have you ever… kissed anyone?”

what a foolish question to ask, of course he had kissed many times, even you knew that, fumbling your words out in the spur of the moment. though the ways his eyes widened made you go still, realisation replacing the confusion on his face almost as quickly. he snorted, his head falling back as he nodded. “‘course i’ve kissed people. haven’t you seen me?” he asked, cockiness lacing his words.

you rolled your eyes, pursing your lips shut while trying to ignore the fact that you were a little bit too aware of the heat on your face, shrugging your shoulders. “i-it’s… it’s just…” fuck, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. “i haven’t… y’know.” you kept trailing off, looking anywhere and everywhere but at him.

he hummed knowingly, staring at you intently. he obviously knew that — definitely not because he always kept close tabs on you behind your back — always surprised that no one had kissed you or swept you off your feet yet. lucky him, he supposed, it was exactly what he’d wanted for a while now. “i know.”

“you do?” you gasped out, though he didn’t let you feel ashamed, his hands soon grasping yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

“i think everyone does.” he snickered, causing you to whine in protest, not even able to swat his shoulders gently since he was holding your hands. “but why’re you bringing it up, huh?” he feigned innocence.

he was so frustrating, obviously knowing that you wanted to try kissing him, especially due to the way your eyes kept trailing down onto his lips, your own lips parting slightly, as if wondering what it’d feel like to kiss him.

the thought of being your first kiss made his heart flutter in the best way possible, every little dream of his about you aching to come true. but still, it was funny to mess with you and watch you stutter while trying to not make a mess of yourself. you were just so damn adorable.

“i was wondering… if maybe we could try it.” you mumbled quietly.

“try what?”

only if you could punch him. “kissing…!” you squeaked out, already regretting your words. what if he’d reject you, never look at you the same again?

“should’ve said that sooner.” he whispered, making you realise just how close he was to you as he leaned forward, his hands pulling you in front of him, soon moving up to cup your face, the tender action making your fears melt away.

“want me to be your first kiss, baby?” his voice was more hoarse now, eyes glimmering with need as he stared down from your eyes to your lips, and then back up at your eyes that were staring at him so dreamily, feeling you nod hastily.

he soon closed the distance between you both, pressing his lips against yours. he was slow and gentle, not wanting to freak you out as you clumsily kissed him back, your fists bunching his shirt up as you clung onto him, feeling his head tilt slightly, his lips parting and moving against yours, swallowing up your surprised little noises.

it felt so good, better than you’d expected from all these novels that you’d been reading. his fingers were neatly tucked behind your ears, not minding that you were leaning forward obliviously, just wanting to be closer to him.

“c’mere.” he grunted against your mouth, that noise alone making your heart go all giddy as he pulled you up to sit on his lap, letting your hands leave his shirt as your arms wrapped around his neck, continuing to kiss him. you couldn’ believe you were kissing your best friend.

he reluctantly pulled away after a while, knowing that you had to catch your breath, eyes drinking in the sight of your panting softly, your lips all wet from the kiss. from the kiss he gave you. he found himself grinning like a fool, pressing a few more kisses on the side of your mouth, hearing you giggle.

“not too bad for a first kiss, yeah?” he asked, earning a hum from you as you snugly sat on his lap, feeling his hands hold onto your waist, fingers slipping sneakily inside your waist, rubbing your sides in light circular motions, just a shy away from the waistband of your shorts. you didn’t mind, staring at him with wide eyes, your breathing quickening at the feeling of his skin against yours.

“what’cha thinking about?” he asked, beginning to press light pecks on your jaw once he felt that you were comfortable enough.

your throat tightened momentarily, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked down, shaking your head, feeling your ears unbearably heat up once again. “nothing.” you whispered too quietly. he tsked, one hand reaching up to gently grab the side of your face, tilting your head towards his.

“just…” you cleared your throat. “just wanna do more.”

“more?”

“y’know what i mean!” this time, you did swat on his shoulders, causing him to chuckle as he nodded.

“mhm, i know. my baby wants more.” he felt your legs spreading a bit more by his hips, your body squirming on his lap. “ever touched yourself?” he asked, rendering you surprised by his rather crude question.

“yes. doesn’t feel really good… i suck at it.” you huffed, not wanting to give the details of how you awkwardly stuck your fingers inside you or tried to rub yourself, either going too fast or too slow, always failing to reach the peak.

“oh no.” he cooed mockingly, his hand gently resting on your stomach through your shirt, his eyes finding yours, softening up. you looked so shy when your confidence was all drained out, it made him want to kiss you all the more greedily. but not yet, that’d be too fast. “want me to make you feel good?” he asked, genuine.

your eyes widened, wondering if he was joking or not, though the way he was staring at you and touching you with so much care made you want to swoon, nodding after a few seconds.

“use your words, baby.”

“yes…” a smile found its way to your lips, his hands swift to shift you around so now you were in between his legs once he parted them, your back resting against his chest. you giggled, your thighs squeezing shut while he pressed soft kisses on the top of your head and then your nape, his hands gently roaming over your torso through the fabric of your shirts, caressing away through your breasts, causing your breath to hitch.

“lift your hips up, cutie.” he ordered, to which you eagerly obeyed by leaning up so he could tug your shorts down, groaning audibly at the sight of your panties. “fuck, always wanted to see you like this.” he confessed, taking down your panties too, putting the clothes aside, not letting you see that he snuck your panties into the pocket of his sweats.

“really?” you whimpered out, feeling his hands gently guiding your legs open, your back trying to lean more into his chest. his fingers snaked down, palming your pussy, your hips already twitching at the foreign touch.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he couldn’t help but groan, pleased as his fingers swiped through your slicken folds, gathering some wetness. he was hard, his cock eager to jump out of his pants but that was a matter for later, some other day. today was all about you.

carefully, he begins to circle his fingers around your clit, feeling it pulsate due to his feather-like, almost teasing movements. you moaned out blissfully, eyes flying shut as he continued to rub your clit, your skin tingling at this newfound feeling.

“feels good?” he asked, earning a hum from you, his head resting on your shoulder, almost nuzzling against your cheek. his other hand went from gently caressing your thighs to in between your legs. “want my fingers in you too?”

“yes…” you mewled in ecstacy, lips parted in awe as your legs stayed spread, aching a bit though the pleasure coursing within you made it easy for you to ignore that. one hand focused on your clit while the other spread your folds apart, a finger teasing your tight hole, your hips trying to buck forward.

“so eager. all of this is f’me, yeah?” he was breathless, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against your ear as you nodded, whining out something incomprehensible that seemed like a ‘yeah’.

his finger soon pushed into your pussy, feeling your squelchy walls squeeze around his digit eagerly. fuck, you were so tight, it made him want to stuff you full of his cock to see how prettily you’d stretch around him. he begin to gently move his finger around you, the other hand not ceasing its movements, fingers continuing to rub your clit.

“rafe… rafey!” you tilted your head, eagerly gasping out the nickname only you’d use on him, your lips trying to find his. he indulged, kissing your lips once again, sneaking in a second finger inside your pussy, beginning to thrust them in and out. his fingers were nicely long, reaching in and probing against your sweet spots that you had convinced yourself didn’t exist. it all felt so good, your wetness leaking onto his fingers and probably dirtying his sheets too, the pleasure from both the simultaneous rubbing of your clit and his fingers fucking your pussy made your body writhe, feeling all sensitive, getting closer to the edge embarrassingly quick.

every pretty noise you were making was muffled against his mouth, feeling all hot and needy, something building up in your stomach. “i-i think m’gonna cum.” you fumbled over your words after pulling away from the kiss.

“keep lookin’ at me.” his fingers continued to thrust in and out of your pussy at a steady pace while rubbing your wet throbbing clit, his hands a mess, eyes staying locked onto your glossy ones. your breathing quickened as you felt your peak approaching, crying out once you orgasmed, cumming all over his fingers, walls clenching around him impossibly tight as your body convulsed. his fingers didn’t stop rubbing your clit until you were a limp mess in his arms, panting softly, all warm and fuzzy.

he gently pulled his fingers out, proudly looking at them before moving his fingers to your mouth. “lick it f’me?” he asked softly, your brain melted into mush as you opened your mouth to suckle onto his fingers for a while until he pulled them out. comfortably sitting you up, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss on your nose, watching you smile doppily, just so happy.

“wanna get cleaned up?” he tilted his head, causing your brows to furrow.

“but… what about you?” you asked, looking down at the tent formed in his pants. his cheeks reddened at your observation, shaking his head as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“don’t wanna go so fast on you and freak you out. someday later, okay?” truth was that he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself, claiming you as his as soon as he’d fuck you properly, letting his obsession unveil. he promised himself that he wouldn’t do that — not yet at least — wanting your first time to be gentle with him taking his time with you.

and you’d be looking forward to it.

[ellecdc]

OMG CONGRATULATIONS ON 5K MOTHER!!! LY<3 Could I please request 🐻— 'one talking to the other when they think they’re asleep' with our pretty boy Remus where it's the reader talking about Rem🥹

thank you so much, lovie!! <3

Remus Lupin x gn!reader who thinks he's asleep [663 words]

CW: written with a fem!reader in mind but no gender markers used, fluff

Remus can tell that the movie has ended by the deep, definitive breath you take as the credits roll and the music plays. 

You don’t move, though, and for that Remus is grateful. It had been quite the week at work; deadlines and meetings and projects, bosses trying to cram in as much progress as they could before the Christmas break, and Remus is exhausted. 

He’d barely uttered his “hello” upon getting home before you were suggesting ordering take away and watching a movie. A quiet night in, you had called it. It sounded like heaven.

Clad in comfies and lo mein on a plate, the two of you snuggled up on the couch. Plates ended up on the coffee table, legs were tucked underneath bodies, Remus’ head rested against your shoulder.

And though the world fell quiet, Remus never did fall asleep.

He’d completely melted into the couch at some point during the movie, now curled up on his side with his head on your lap as you card your fingers through his hair. Eyes closed in contentment, breathing evened in his ease.

He loves you. 

“I love you.” You murmur softly as if you read his mind, and Remus feels his lips curve into a smile, though his body was simply too heavy to offer you a proper response. “You work too hard, m’love.” 

He would have argued with you, or dismissed you immediately if you’d said anything of the sort when he first got home, but now he was trapped and complacent in your embrace.

“Always taking care of everyone else, aren’t you?” Your fingers brush through his hair again before trailing to his shoulder and down his arm as you speak. “You take such good care of me. I wish you’d let me take care of you, sometimes.” 

He really couldn’t help it then, he turned his head so he was looking up at you, offering you a warm smile as you tsked at him.

“Not even sleeping when you should be, Rem.”

“You take great care of me, dove.” He argues quickly, rolling onto his back so he could continue staring up at you more easily. “What do you call tonight?”

“I call tonight I was too lazy to cook and then got to watch my favourite Christmas movie.” You offer wryly, and Remus shakes his head reproachfully. 

“That’s not true at all. You knew I’d had a day, and made sure I didn’t have to think about anything but sitting my arse down on this sofa.”

Your lips purse as you trace a line down the side of his face with your finger. “That was one day.”

Remus hums in the negative. “No. It’s also the way you just happen to text me everyday around noon, when I happen to be scheduled for a break but usually happen to get too caught up in what I’m doing to realise. It’s also the way you claim that you have to work early in the morning when you notice me growing weary at the pub with my friends so that they don’t tease me for my old man tendencies. It’s the way you let me drone on and on about numbers and stats and editing that I know doesn’t interest you at all, just because you know it interests me. How could you say you don’t take care of me?” 

He watches you study his face for a few moments, expression unchanging even when you finally blurt “I liked talking to you better when you were sleeping and couldn’t argue with me.” 

Remus’ laugh echoed throughout your flat before he stretched out his limbs with a pleased hum. 

“Would you like it better if I went back to sleep?” 

“Yes, thank you.”

“See? There I go again,” he starts as he rolls back onto his side and you queue up another movie, “taking care of everyone else.” 

Remus’ eyes fall shut at the sound of your tinkling laughter.

[pink-ivy-vines]

what it honestly feels like they did was take the concept of native rivaini people stealing their culture before the rich andrastian nobles could and then turned that on... every other culture? like, it makes sense that rivaini pirates are stealing their own history before it could become a showpiece for some asshole chantry bootlicker who approved of the dairsmuid circle being annulled in 9:40 dragon. and it makes a little bit of sense for the qunari ones because rivain is the only country in thedas that had a peaceful qunari settlement. it does not work with the elven artifacts.

my first playthrough of the game was as a lord of fortune, and i liked it a lot, but there is this really weird disconnect between what taash thinks is happening in the lords and what rook sees in the lords. rook acknowledges that they're thieves. that they steal things. in fact, one of the most interesting moments of the game for me was rook trying to connect to taash through being a lord and taash shutting it down by saying "we're not thieves" and rook saying "UM. yes we are?" then gives a very pointed example about said thievery. because the lords do steal things. sometimes they do it just because it's funny.

but taash doesn't recognize this? or doesn't believe it and sees it through these rose-tinted glasses? with every other faction i've played you're able to connect to the other character from that faction in some way. you chat with them, talk to them, and your shared history comes up often.

that does not happen with a lords of fortune rook. in fact, the only time i've ever actually seen rook uncomfortable is talking about the lords of fortune to taash. because rook tries really hard to connect with them about it and then is clearly shut down at the get-go due to their vastly different viewpoints on what the lords actually do. it's almost as though both of them have wildly different perceptions about what goes on in the lords and this is fascinating and interesting and also never brought up again.

sure, it's hinted at; isabela does not take taash on anything remotely political, doesn't bring them into dragon hoards, and tends to have taash there only for advice on dragons. rook was much more involved in the 'delving into temples and ruins' and has a much closer relationship to isabela than taash does.

some part of me actually thinks that taash's storyline should have been about realizing that the lords aren't exactly the goody-two-shoes that were presented to them. that they do commit crimes and maybe that can be good in some ways (in regards of fighting against the chantry in their country) and bad in others (like stealing and selling elven artifacts).

of course, all this also just exemplifies the problem that you bring up; which is that the lords do have good things that they're doing as well as some bad things. they're in a weird situation where they're fighting to help people, but rivain has been the subject of so many genocides and massacres that they are trying to survive the only way they know how; through piracy.

yet the only person you can talk to in a meaningful way sees them as a weird abstract painting of themselves and when you play as a lord of fortune it still never gets resolved or pointed out. it just becomes more obvious.

I got a party banter between Bellara and Taash about how the Lords of Fortune steal elven artifacts. And then Taash clarifies later that they have a Dalish expert on the team so they can check to make sure the Lords don't sell something culturally important and instead return it to the elves.

Like. I get it. You want the Lords to be fun swashbuckler Disney pirates and Robin Hoods instead of actual pirates who steal and plunder. Because we're only now in Western society realizing that stealing from indigenous groups is, uh, bad. But like. Writing really uninteresting factions for your "dark" fantasy (tho lbr Dragon Age hasn't been dark fantasy since DA2) isn't gonna solve real-world neo-colonialism, ya know? The Lords not stealing priceless elven artifacts and returning them to the elves doesn't signal to me that the Lords are total rascally good guys, it signals to me that BioWare itself is trying really hard to seem morally conscious. "See? We know stealing from other cultures is bad!!!"

And man. Not to be a "political correctness has poisoned media" grifter on main (tbh it's less political correctness itself and more the commodification of real-world activism) but I couldn't help but imagine how this convo would've played out in earlier games, potentially even Inquisition.

You could've so EASILY made this interesting while giving the Lords and Taash and Bellara a lot more depth, while also making it clear that stealing from indigenous groups is wrong.

Just have the Lords, yeah, actually sell those artifacts. But also establish that the Lords take in and help elves from all walks of life. That they free slaves, or collaborate with alienages. Then you could have Taash defend the practice by saying to Bellara that little orphaned elf kids being sold as slaves probably don't give a flying fuck about some artifacts they're never gonna see, but the money from selling those artifacts goes to buying them food. And have Bellara fire back that preserving elven culture is also part of its survival, and that there are Dalish clans that would be willing to pay for them or offer something in return. Or have her say that the Lords are doing charity for the sake of recruitment rather than actual altruism. And then Taash responds that those high and mighty Dalish elves don't do shit to help abandoned city elves, just because those aren't part of their correct elven subculture, and they care more about reclaiming old glory than helping the people that exist here and now.

Then you could have side missions or at least codex entries that describe maybe some Lord recruit being conflicted about what they're doing. Maybe a few of them are collaborating to hijack a deal or steal back an artifact. Have implications that some high-ranking Lords are, in fact, using those artifacts for their own gain, despite claiming otherwise. Have some Lords genuinely trying to help, and believing that gold and trinkets don't matter as much as people's lives, so they sell them in exchange for safety for refugees or slaves or some other helpless group.

But no. Instead it's "hey do you steal from my people?" "nah lmao we have a cultural advisor don't even worry about it" "oh wow so cool and woke of you!" And then that's it. No need for any further discussion. No conflict and no complexity. No bad actors and moral quandaries.

Weh.

[zweigsangel]

it started with the faint buzz of your phone on the nightstand, vibrating so persistently it startled you out of half-sleep. you grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see chris's name flashing. it wasn’t unusual for him to call, but at nearly two in the morning? that wasn’t normal.

“what the hell do you want?” you answered, voice raspy from sleep. “yo,” he slurred, dragging the word out. his voice sounded distant, like it was fighting through static and something else.

you sat up, rubbing your face. “are you drunk?”

“nah,” he said, then paused. “well, kinda. not drunk. high. like, really fuckin’ high.” there was another pause. then he laughed softly. “sorry, is that rude? don’t know why i’m apologizin’. i just—fuck, nevermind.“

“what’s up? you woke me up, dumbass.” but your irritation was mostly for show, your tone softening.

chris and you had always been like this—banter that felt like a second language, jokes that only the two of you got. you’d been friends for years, meeting in high school when he’d transferred to your school halfway through junior year. he was scruffy, cocky, and way too confident for his own good. but beneath that? he was sweet in ways he didn’t let many people see.

you leaned back against the headboard, adjusting to the idea that you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“just..missed your voice, i think.” he said it so simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

your stomach did that annoying little flip at his words, and you cursed it silently. there’d always been something unspoken between you two. maybe it was the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person in the room. or the way his hand would linger on your back when you hugged goodbye. but you’d both avoided it, burying it under layers of sarcasm and jokes.

“you’re so full of shit,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “nah, swear to god,” he said, voice still soft but with a hint of that teasing edge he always had. “can i-can i come over?”

“chris, it’s the middle of the night—”

“i know, i know. but i just... i really wanna see you. please.”

something in his voice made your chest ache a little. “fine. but if you wake my neighbors, i’m kicking your ass.”

“promise. be there in ten.”

ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled over his head. his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glassy, but he grinned when he saw you.

“you look cute,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“shut up,” you said, shutting the door behind him. you were just in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and you felt a little self-conscious under his gaze.

he flopped onto your couch, stretching out like he owned the place you grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and tossed it at him. “drink that. you look like shit,” you said, sitting down next to him. he smelled faintly like weed and the cheap cologne he always wore, and it made your chest ache a little in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“thanks, babe. love the support.” but he opened the bottle and took a long sip, sighing afterward.

“so, what’s this all about?” you asked, pulling your legs up beneath you.

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “dunno. just..couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

you laughed, trying to brush it off. “yeah, right. you’re high as shit. you probably couldn’t stop thinking about pizza, too.”

“nah, i’m serious.” his voice was quieter now, and when you looked at him, his eyes were on you, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. you’re all i’ve been thinkin’ about lately, and it’s been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”

your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your chest. “you’re just saying this because you’re high,” you said weakly, not meeting his eyes.

“bullshit,” he shot back, his voice sharper now. “this isn’t the weed talkin’, alright? this is me. i’ve been feelin’ this way for ages, but i didn’t wanna fuck shit up between us. but, god, it’s killin’ me,” he paused for a moment. “but tonight i was sittin’ at home, high as fuck, and i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. like, your stupid laugh, and the way you always steal my fries even when you say you’re not hungry, and how you—fuck, this is so embarrassing.”

you stared at him, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

he looked up at you, his eyes serious now. “i think i’m in love with you. no, fuck that, i know i’m in love with you. and i don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, but i also can’t keep pretendin’ i don’t feel this way.”

you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. you sat there, stunned, your brain scrambling to process what he’d just said.

“say something,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

you swallowed hard, your mind spinning, and he laughed bitterly. “shit, i knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “forget i said anything, alright? just—fuck. i’m sorry.”

he started to get up, but you grabbed his wrist before you even realized what you were doing. “wait.”

he froze, looking down at you, and you swallowed hard. “you’re not..wrong,” you admitted quietly.

his eyebrows pulled together. “what do you mean?”

you hesitated, but only because you were scared. scared of what this could mean, of how things might change. but then you thought about all the little moments over the years—his hand brushing against yours, the way his smile could light up your worst days, the way he always knew exactly how to make you laugh.

“i mean—i think about you, too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i didn’t wanna ruin anything, either.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, he sat back down. “yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes.

his eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

then he did move, leaning in just a little, his gaze flicking to your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy. your breath caught, but you nodded. “yeah.”

and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and a little hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this as much as he did. but when you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

it wasn’t perfect—his nose bumped yours, and you could taste the faint tang of weed on his lips—but it didn’t matter. it was warm and messy and real, and it made your heart feel like it was about to burst.

when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he was smiling—this soft, almost disbelieving smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

“fuck,” he whispered. “that was..better than i imagined.” you laughed softly, your cheeks burning. “you’ve imagined this?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “a lot, actually.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot,” he said, grinning.

you groaned, shoving him lightly, but he just laughed, pulling you into his arms. and for the first time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[soaked4mk]

Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[starkeyslibrary]

Exile

Inspired by the song Exile by Taylor Swift

pairing: you x drew starkey

The café was quiet, save for the hum of soft jazz filtering through the speakers and the clinking of cups against saucers. You sat in a booth by the window, fingers wrapped around a mug of now-lukewarm coffee. The cloudy skies outside mirrored the storm brewing inside you. Drew was late—again.

You sighed, glancing at the empty chair across from you. The weight in your chest grew heavier with every tick of the clock. This wasn’t the first time he’d kept you waiting, but it felt different today. He’d been distant for weeks, his texts growing shorter, his excuses more frequent. It was as though he was drifting away, and you were powerless to stop it.

The door chimed, and there he was. Drew Starkey, with his messy hair, sharp jawline, and the same leather jacket he wore on your first date. He looked like a dream. He always did. But the tired look in his eyes and the hesitation in his step turned your stomach. He spotted you, offering a small, tentative smile as he walked over.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You watched as he fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, avoiding your gaze. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Drew, what’s going on?”

His head snapped up, and for a second, he looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Your voice was steady, but your hands trembled slightly as you set your mug down. “You’ve been... distant. Different. And I feel like I don’t know where I stand with you anymore.”

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. His hands rubbed his face, and you could see the exhaustion etched into every line of his expression. “I’ve been busy,” he said finally, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “Work’s been insane, and... I don’t know. It’s not you.”

“It’s not me,” you repeated, bitterness creeping into your tone. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped, his voice rising slightly. “That I’ve been overwhelmed? That I don’t know how to balance everything right now? Because I don’t.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why did you just... shut me out instead?”

Drew looked away, his jaw clenching. “Because it’s easier that way.”

“Easier for who?” you demanded. “Because it sure as hell hasn’t been easy for me, Drew. I’ve been sitting here, trying to figure out what I did wrong. What I could’ve done differently. And you didn’t even give me the chance to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix!” he said, his frustration spilling over. “Don’t you get it? Sometimes, things just... fall apart.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “So that’s it?” you whispered. “You’re just giving up?”

“I’m not giving up,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction. “I’m being realistic.”

“Realistic,” you repeated, your voice trembling. “No, Drew. What you’re being is a coward.”

His eyes snapped to yours, anger flashing across his face. “A coward? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” you said, leaning forward. “You’re running away because it’s easier than staying and fighting for what we have. And you know what? Maybe that’s on me for believing in us more than you did.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice low. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t care?”

“I don’t know, Drew,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Because you won’t tell me anything! You won’t let me in!”

He fell silent, his fists clenching on the table. The air between you was charged, the weight of all the unsaid words pressing down on both of you. Finally, he looked at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe. Or guilt.

“I tried,” he said quietly. “I really did. But we’re just... we’re not on the same page anymore.”

You felt the tears spill over now, hot and unrelenting. “So, what?” you said, your voice breaking. “You’re just going to walk away? After everything?”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice thick. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You don’t even want to try,” you said, shaking your head. “You’ve already made up your mind.”

He didn’t deny it. And that hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

The drive home was a blur, the world outside your window smeared with rain and tears. By the time you reached your apartment, the ache in your chest had settled into something deeper, heavier. You kicked off your shoes and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. For a moment, you considered ignoring it. But when you saw Drew’s name on the screen, your heart clenched. You hesitated before opening the message.

“I’m sorry for tonight. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stared at the words, the hollow apology doing little to ease the pain. You wanted to reply, to tell him how much he’d broken you, but what was the point? He’d already decided it was over.

Instead, you turned off your phone and curled up on the couch, letting the darkness swallow you whole.

The next week was a blur of numbness and routine. You went to work, smiled when you had to, and avoided any place where you might run into Drew. The ghost of him lingered everywhere—in the smell of coffee, in the playlists you couldn’t bring yourself to delete, in the way your chest tightened every time you passed his favorite bar.

One night, you found yourself sitting on your bed, staring at an old photo of the two of you. It was from last summer, at a carnival. Drew had his arm slung around your shoulders, his smile wide and carefree. You looked so happy, so full of hope.

That girl felt like a stranger now.

With a trembling hand, you placed the photo facedown on the nightstand. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away—not yet. Maybe not ever.

A month later, you saw him.

You were at a mutual friend’s party, a moment of weakness convincing you to show up despite your better judgment. And there he was, standing across the room with a beer in hand, laughing at something someone had said.

For a moment, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The room seemed to freeze. Neither of you moved, but the weight of that gaze was enough to shatter you all over again.

You turned and left before he could say a word.

—

The story of you and Drew didn’t end with fireworks or closure. It ended in silence, in the spaces between what was said and what was left unsaid. And as much as it hurt, you knew deep down that some stories aren’t meant to have happy endings. Some are just meant to teach you how to let go.

And so you did.

Eventually.

[xoxochb]

Hi! how are you? I hope well. I'm super stressed studying for college finals, and your Percy stories help me with all the stress. Do you think you could do, if you want of course, a Percy Jackson x daughter of Zeus? where she is stressed with college and he helps her? something nice and softhave a nice and sunny day!!

— high achiever ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: none! pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus a/n: I wrote this kinda quick I’m sorry I was in a rush trying to finish this and study myself 😭

ambition was a strong personality trait consisting with children of zeus. you got this strongly— the desire to achieve high academic goals, nearly impossibly goals sometimes. and yes, studying was fun, but studying was additionally stressful. and in these times of stress you were lucky to have your boyfriend sit beside you.

“you’re gonna overwork yourself, sweet girl.”

“I know— I know, but I really need to finish this.”

percy sighs. “did you realize you’ve drank four cups of coffee in the last hour? and you’ve chewed half your pencil off?”

“shit—” for a moment you take your eyes off your notebook and look at your desk where two separate mugs sit, completely empty. then you look at your pencil that has tiny teeth marks on it. you frown. “just give me five more minutes, kay? then I’m all yours.”

“what does five minutes mean to you? another half an hour? because that’s what you said thirty minutes ago.”

“I know,” gods, why are you going to cry? you weren’t the one being ignored so percy could study. “but I really need to finish— I can’t fail my finals of everything.”

“and I get that, angel,” percy takes a few strands of your messy around his fingers, attempting to calm you down. “but relaxing is just as important as your studying is. you need an equal balance.”

he gently takes the pencil from your hand and places it down on your notebook, then takes your face between his hands, kissing your forehead lightly.

“just let me take care of you, alright?”

you want to fight this— to tell him no and that you need more studying time. on the other hand, you know he’s not going to give up until he’s got you calmed down from your over-stressed state of mind. you sigh and nod your head obediently. percy smiles and pecks your forehead again, beginning to close your books shut. he takes them all between his arms and walks to your desk, placing them into a neat pile atop it.

he walks back over to your bed where you sit, outstretching his hand and ushering you to take it. which you do— because who would you be to say no? he drags you to your dresser, picking out comfortable clothes for you to sleep in (which consist of a pair of shorts and one of his shirts you had stole).

“you know… I can do this myself, perce.”

“I know,” he smiles, beginning to discard of your day clothes and exchange them for the new ones. “but I like to help.”

again, you can’t find it in yourself to fight him. you let him place on your new clothes and then drag you back to your bed. he instructs you to lay down as he walks to your desk and blows out your candle (this is one of the only times you’ve seen him so responsible) and shutting off your lamp before at last re-joining you on your bed.

“c’mere, sweet girl.” he beckons you into his arms. without a second thought you allow yourself to be wrapped around him, and his hand rubbing comfortably over your back. “go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“are you sure?”

“you know what? now that you say it, I’m not too sure…”

you perk your head up from his neck skeptically, squinting your eyes at him. he only gives you a boyish smirk in return.

“saw this nightclub down the street, might head there for a while. y’know, get drunk, hook up with a few girls…”

“shut up,” you laugh. he makes a zipper motion over his mouth, throwing the invisible key somewhere in your room. “you’re an idiot.”

“I like to think that I’m your idiot.”

“proving my point… what happened to your zipper? did it break?”

“guess so. but only so I could do this,” he pecks your lips. “and so I can scold you about sleeping.”

“my eyes are closed, kay?” you return your head to his neck with closed eyes.

“great, now try shutting off that brain of yours.” he taps the top of your head twice. like magic, you feel a sudden drowsiness wash over you. in response to his asking, you hum quietly.

“‘s off.”

“now zip your lips and sleep.”

“kiss ‘em first. please?”

he doesn’t say no to that, happily giving you what you ask for. and you hold up your end of the deal too.

[dissapointu]

I was wondering if your requests are still open could you do how would the arcane characters be with a ditzy s/o headcanons

If they are not just ignore this lol

Of course! Here’s how each of the Arcane characters would interact with a ditzy S/O:

Jinx

• Jinx adores your ditziness because it keeps life interesting for her. You might misplace things or say silly, nonsensical things, but she loves it.

• She’s always teasing you in a playful way: “Did your brain take a vacation again?” while laughing.

• If your ditziness gets you into trouble, she’s quick to intervene—whether that’s helping you out of a jam or turning a minor mistake into a wild adventure.

• She finds it hilarious when you confuse her chaotic gadgets for random junk. “No, no! That’s a grenade! Wait—don’t press—oh, too late!”

• Secretly, she loves taking care of you because it makes her feel needed, even if she pretends to be exasperated.

Vi

• Vi finds your ditzy nature both charming and mildly concerning. She’s protective and often tries to keep you out of trouble.

• “What do you mean you got lost on the way to the bar? It’s two blocks away.” She’ll roll her eyes but escort you home anyway.

• She’s surprisingly patient with you, though. If you forget something important, she’ll gently remind you and laugh it off.

• Sometimes, she uses your cluelessness as an excuse to mess with you. “Yeah, totally, that button shuts down the whole system. Try it.”

• Despite her teasing, she thinks your scatterbrained moments are part of what makes you so lovable.

Sevika

• Sevika is equal parts amused and exasperated by your ditzy tendencies. She’s the type to sigh dramatically but still help you out without hesitation.

• “How do you even survive out here?” she’ll mutter while guiding you away from danger.

• She’s fiercely protective, especially if someone tries to take advantage of your naïveté. They’ll quickly learn not to mess with you.

• At first, she might mistake your ditziness for weakness, but over time, she realizes it’s just part of your charm—and that you’re stronger than you seem.

• She secretly loves your silly, lighthearted energy because it balances out her tough, no-nonsense personality.

Silco

• Silco is initially baffled by your ditziness, wondering how someone so absent-minded caught his attention. But he quickly grows fond of it.

• He has infinite patience for you, often stepping in to fix your mistakes before they escalate. “Honestly, how do you manage to complicate the simplest tasks?”

• If you wander off in Zaun and get lost, he’ll drop everything to find you, scolding you gently but relieved you’re safe.

• Your airheaded moments amuse him more than he’d admit, and he’s surprisingly tender when helping you navigate things you find confusing.

• He values your innocence and lightheartedness, seeing it as a reprieve from the darkness of his world.

Vander

• Vander thinks your ditzy nature is endearing and reminds him of the younger kids in the Lanes. He’s always ready to help you out.

• He’s quick to guide you back on track if you get distracted or confused. “Alright, let’s try this again. Step one…”

• He’s incredibly patient, especially if you’re trying to help around the bar but end up making more of a mess.

• Vander loves your optimism and how you can brighten his day with your goofy mistakes. He can’t help but chuckle when you get flustered.

• He sees it as his responsibility to keep you safe, especially in a dangerous place like Zaun.

Ekko

• Ekko finds your ditziness cute and funny, though he’s always keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.

• He’ll tease you, but it’s always in a lighthearted way: “You’re lucky you’re cute, because that was not your smartest move.”

• If you forget something important or wander off, he’s quick to come to the rescue. “Where were you? Don’t scare me like that!”

• He loves how carefree you are, and your absentminded moments often inspire him to slow down and laugh at life’s silliness.

• Ekko thinks your energy is contagious, and he admires how you never let your ditziness get you down.

Jayce

• Jayce is endlessly entertained by your ditzy moments. He thinks they’re adorable and never makes you feel bad about them.

• He’s quick to help you when you get confused, patiently explaining things (sometimes over and over). “No, see, this is how it works!”

• If you make a silly mistake, he’ll laugh but also reassure you: “Hey, it happens to the best of us.”

• He enjoys your lighthearted nature because it balances out the pressure he’s always under. You remind him not to take things too seriously.

• Jayce often finds himself doting on you, making sure you’re okay and subtly double-checking your work when needed.

Viktor

• Viktor is amused by your ditzy tendencies, though he struggles to understand how someone so absent-minded manages in daily life.

• He gently corrects you when you make mistakes, his tone always kind and patient. “No, no, my dear, you’ve got it backwards again.”

• He secretly enjoys your quirks because they make him smile, especially when he’s stressed with work.

• Viktor is extra cautious if you’re around his lab equipment, often guiding you away from anything dangerous. “Careful—don’t touch that!”

• He admires your ability to stay positive despite your scatterbrained moments and finds your innocence refreshing in contrast to the harshness of his world.

Caitlyn

• Caitlyn is endlessly patient with your ditziness, often stepping in to help you without making a big deal out of it.

• She finds your airheaded moments endearing and will gently tease you about them. “You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?”

• If you get distracted or wander off, she’s quick to track you down and make sure you’re safe.

• Caitlyn loves your lighthearted nature and how it brings a sense of levity to her otherwise serious life.

• She’s always there to support you, whether it’s reminding you of something you forgot or helping you navigate a confusing situation.

[therealbeachfox]

TL;DR: Yes. All of this.

This is why Batman is such a divisive character for fans. He is the star of a serial fiction series that's lasted 80 years and counting. And that serial is embedded into the consciousness of near the whole damn world. Batman is Bruce Wayne, rich kid who saw his parents die, and now he fights crime, mainly of the Joker variety.

And that core foundation of Batman can't change. Because new people are always coming in, and they -know- what Batman is. Kid who saw his parents die, dresses up like a bat, punches this specific lineup of very distinctive bad guys. If you alter those elements, the new people showing up will immediately turn around and leave because "I don't know what they're selling in there, but it sure ain't Batman!"

So Batman's stuck in this endless soap opera spinning around the core concepts that can never be altered for more than 12 months at the very most. Details can and do change constantly. Who's his allies, who's he currently punching, what's his address, how much do the cops like him, what's he wearing. But they cycle through as the writers cycle in and out.

The set-dressing can change, but the concept cannot. So we're left with the paradox where every single story every single writer has written over the years had be taken as fact (Batman failed Dick, Batman failed Jason, Batman failed Tim, Batman super-mega-failed Steph), but none of the -results- of those stories are allowed to stick. No lessons can be learned. No changes can be made.

So here is a man who can appear to be a total monster because of a dozen writers across 80 years writing their own one-off Super Angsty Batman story, but none of the character development/changes that would've come from those events are allowed to stick beyond "Robins get grumpy" or sometimes someone throws a previous plotline back in someone else's face during an argument.

The problem basically boils down to one that plagues a lot of serialized fiction that focuses on One Big Problem. If the story is based on solving this One Big Problem, you've made it that if the characters ever manage to fix it, the story's over.

So you wind up with a band of castaways on an island who can never manage to escape it. You wind up with heroes driving back alien invasions that they can never actually drive back. You have mutated scientists trying to find a cure for their condition who can never be allowed to find it.

And you have crimefighters who can never be allowed to actually have a visible impact on the crime-rate.

GI-Joe can never defeat Cobra, Sam Becket will never make that final quantum leap back home, and Batman will never save Gotham.

(Unless it's a 'in the future, after the series' story. Or an alternate universe. Or a movie-version that isn't stressing the sequels. Or some side-version that isn't bound to the requirement to keep the main serial churning.)

And every fictional character in that world is stuck trying to come up with in-universe reasons for all of the out-of-universe decisions being made around that one simple fact while also having to avoid coming to the conclusion that it's Batman who's broken.

Basically: Jason Todd was absolutely right, but if he's allowed to be right, and the world adjusts accordingly, then the serial is so altered they might as well shut it down and start something entirely new instead.

And that would make the money angry. You can't make the money angry.

people who act like batman isn't "judge jury and executioner" because he doesn't kill people are like. genuinely so funny to me because. they're very obviously thinking of "executioner" as like. the stereotypical guy with axe who chops people heads off, and not, yknow, the literal definition of the idiom itself, which is about someone who has the ability to judge and then subsequently punish someone unilaterally. which is quite literally what batman does.

he has the ability to decide what is a "crime" to him, he is the one who decides whether people are guilty of those crimes, and he is the one who executes their punishment. the severity of the punishment doesn't matter - he is unaccountable to anyone else, and indeed is allowed to commit as many crimes as needed to reach his arbitrary ideal of "justice."

the ideal of batman is this: a man who is so fundamentally changed by an act of senseless violence that he takes it upon himself to fight back against the rot and corruption in the world. he does this not through political activism, not through ridding himself of his wealth in favor of a greater good, not through community outreach, but through an individualistic fantasy of being a hero.

and you'll say: charlie, but he does do that !!! he donates his money all the time, he funds social programs, hospitals, orphanages, gets people jobs -

and i will say this: so why don't things get better?

because here's the base of it. gotham, at its core, can't get better. no matter what bruce wayne does, there will always be more crime, more villains, more death, more people for batman to beat up in back alleys. because that's what sells.

reoffending rates don't matter in gotham, prison reform doesn't matter in gotham, what actually causes crime doesn't matter in gotham because that doesn't sell books.

and so here it is; dc has unintentionally created a world where batman can't win, but can't be wrong, and where thousands of nameless, faceless, only-created-to-die civilians must be pushed into the meat grinder that is gotham, to fuel bruce wayne's angst and vindicate his constant, tireless, noble fight against the forces of evil.

and then: a new robin, who is poor and who's parents are dead or gone because of this cycle; who is happy go-lucky and hated by editors and fans for being robin, for not being dick grayson, for being poor.

and this robin is written, unintentionally or not, to be angry at the ways in which batman's (the narrative's) idea of justice is detached from its victims. bruce seems perfectly fine to allow countless unnamed women to be at risk from garzonas in his home country, yet robin is the one who is portrayed as irrational and violent.

this robin is not detached from gotham in the way bruce wayne is: this robin is a product of gotham.

(and here's the thing. you can't punch aids. you can't fight a disease with colorful fights and nifty gadgets. and how would robin dying from aids add to batman's story; it would call into question the systemic changes that haven't been made in gotham. how does a child get aids, in batman's city?)

so robin dies, and then bruce (the narrative) spends the next couple of decades blaming it on him. it is jason's fault; he was reckless, he just ran in, he thought it was all a game. if only bruce had seen what was coming, if only he could have known that jason wasn't rich enough or smart enough or liked enough to be robin.

batman gets a little more violent, a little more self destructive. he hurts people more and almost (!!) kills a couple guys. this is bad because it's self destructive and "not who he is." it is not bad because batman should not be able to just beat people up when he's angry.

and then he gets a shiny new robin - who is all the things jason "wasn't": rich and smart and rational and he doesn't put who batman is into question. batman and robin are partners, and jason is a grave and a cautionary tale, and (crucially here) never right.

the joker kills thousands and it doesn't matter because they were written to be killed.

batman beats up thousands and it doesn't matter because they were written to be criminals.

and then jason comes back, and nothing has changed. there is a batman and a (shiny! rich!) robin and the joker kills thousands. (because it sells)

and jason is angry - he has been left unavenged - his death has meant nothing, just as willis' had, just as catherine's had, just as gloria's had, just as -

thousands. ten of thousands. hundreds of thousands. written to be killed.

but one of them gets to come back.

and he is angry - not only at the joker, but at bruce (the narrative) - because why is the joker still alive (when thousands-)

here is the thing - jason todd is right. not because the death penalty is good, not because criminals deserve to die, not because of everything he says -

but because of what he calls into question. why is the joker alive?

because he sells books.

and dc has written a masterful character, through no fault of their own, because jason knows what is wrong, and he knows who is at fault - batman. (the narrative)

so the argument that bruce can't kill because he's not judge jury and executioner; the argument that jason is a cop or that jason is insane or that jason is in the wrong here; they hold no weight.

batman can't kill the joker because the joker sells comic books.

and jason can't kill the joker because the joker sells comic books.

so he will beg and plead and grovel - he will betray everything that is himself, he will forsake his family and his city and kill himself - just so that bruce (the narrative) will let the joker die.

he was condemned to death by an audience, and after he came back he has spent his whole life looking us in the eyes and screaming, asking, pleading; why is the joker still alive?

why are thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands (the number doesn't matter, see, because they're just a number. not people. not real.) why are we expendable for his story? why did i have to die just for nothing to change?

and the answer is money. and the answer is the batman can never be wrong. and the answer is shitty writing. and the answer is -

nothing jason can ever change.

which is the worst of it all. he is a victim with no power, and no one else in the world can see it. he is raging and crying and screaming at his father and his writers and you - and it doesn't matter. jason doesn't matter. and he knows it.

[retroaria]

★ unlikely trio

⟡ ݁₊ what it was like working with osamu dazai and chuuya nakahara as port mafia operatives ₊ .⟡

platonic!dazai + chuuya x gn!reader | this is definitely based on 15-18 y/o dazai and chuuya! they are both executives and you’re under them but still high ranking. use of y/n btw. this is short i just wanted to do some silly hc's for my favorite boys :)

• | BSD M.LIST | reblogs are apprectiated! | •

⋆˙⟡ chuuya hates to make you the mediator, but dazai insists. when these two are locked in on one upping each others level of arrogant asshole, dazai seeks you out to be the final voice of reason just so he can see which of them will be scolded the most - he knows they’re both being stupid. because of his vulgarity, chuuya usually gets the shorter end of the stick in these competitions (competitions that exist only in dazai’s head btw)

D: “Did you see that!? Chuuya just bit me!”

C: “I did not bite you, i’m not some kind of wild animal.”

D: “No, I think you’re a creature far more sinister actually…”

C: “If you don’t shut the hell up I’ll actually bite your head off.”

D: “You see! Y/n! Someone has to reprimand this feral beast.”

Y/N: “Chuu~ you can’t just say you’re gonna bite his head off…”

C: “HE STARTED IT AND HE LIED!”

D: “My accusation doesn’t seem too far off for someone who just threatened to orally behead me, read the room Nakahara.”

⋆˙⟡ pushing and shoving each other to get through the doorway first. you or chuuya usually assume the role of line leader but when it comes to making an entrance dazai can’t help but weasel his way in there with an annoying amount of force. this doesn’t necessarily pertain to you, as dazai does this when it’s just him and chuuya as well…or anyone really - he’s gotta make a grand entrance.

⋆˙⟡ letting you win at arcade games just so chuuya feels like the only one who couldn’t beat him.

⋆˙⟡ you being the only thing that could get those two to sit down and have a normal meal together. they know you mean business when you invite them out to eat so they put their big boy pants on.

⋆˙⟡ you and dazai coming up with dangerous but efficient plans that chuuya spends the entirety of the mission refuting. alternatively: you and chuuya coming up with safe and well thought out plans that dazai spends the entirety of the mission ruining.

⋆˙⟡ they both go to you to talk about their troubles id think, although dazai does it in a much more sly manner; not really telling you anything but just wanting to have someone to talk to. chuuya really lets it all out on you, he’s a a bit of a trauma dumper when he feels he can be. sometimes one of them will walk in on you when you’re with the other and they both look at you feeling so betrayed.

D: “I can’t believe you double booked…today is MY DAY.”

C: “Shut it freak, I had plans with them first you’re such a little brat.”

D: “So cold…I’ll have you know I was invited.”

⋆˙⟡ dazai spends a lot of time trying to get you to understand the way he thinks. he’s totally emotionally and mentally stunted though, so he ends up speaking in riddles and not getting his point across as smooth as he’d like to sometimes. chuuya doesn’t explain his thought process to you at all and then gets mad when both dazai and you aren’t getting what he’s putting down.

⋆˙⟡ they both feel the need to get your opinion on big decisions they might be making concerning operations. dazai will dance around his proposals and take in your reactions based on the little info he gives you. chuuya tells you the situation straight up and asks what you would do if you were him.

⋆˙⟡ dazai feels that you need very little protection and can handle things on your own, his logic is that you couldn’t have gotten as far as you did if you weren’t capable. chuuya sees you as one of his valued subordinates and will go out of his way to ensure your safety (though he doesn’t do that for anyone else but if you died who else would protect him from dazai’s emotional abuse?)

[usoppinggg]

For the drabble prompts: 52. "I can't believe we're friends sometimes." Preferably Usopp with either Nami or Luffy, but go wild if you have a better idea. I love your writing!

Hi, anon! Thanks so much for the prompt and your kind words! <3 You get two drabbles because I felt compelled to write them both. Hope you enjoy!

—

“I can’t believe we’re friends, sometimes.”

“I know, not everyone is as lucky to be blessed with a friend as gorgeous and intelligent as me,” Nami says with a lavish toss of her hair. It’s coupled by a wink that causes a man across the street walk face-first into a pole.

Usopp is not impressed.

“You mean, not everyone is as unlucky to be cursed with a friend as greedy and conniving as y—”

Usopp cuts himself off with a pained yelp, holding his head and glaring at Nami, whose fist is still raised at him.

“Ouch! You horrid hag! You vexatious vixen! You abrasive a—“

“Oh shut up, you big baby,” she snaps. “Look, do you want to make some easy money or not?! We’re broke, so if you want to pay for food and all your stupid weapons then do as I say and stop complaining.”

“Oh, so now my weapons are stupid? If that’s the case, then hand over the Clima-Tact right now!”

Nami possessively clutches at the collapsed baton attached to her thigh. “No way, it’s mine! Besides, I think I’m allowed to call your weapons stupid considering this thing almost got me killed the first time I tried to use it, since someone thought it was a good idea to try and make me play magician instead of defending my life!”

Usopp crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at her. “You love the bouquets and you know it.”

Nami rolls her eyes, but the lack of outright refusal makes Usopp smirk at her with knowing satisfaction. She just sighs heavily, hands on her hips.

“So are you going to help me or are you going to keep whining?”

“… Give me extra allowance this month.”

“Rake in some cash, then we’ll talk.”

Usopp sticks out his hand, pinky extended. “Promise?”

Nami rolls her eyes once more, but the fondness on her face is impossible to miss. She reaches out to link her pinky with Usopp’s. “I promise.”

He grins brightly at her before his smile becomes much more devious. “Alright, let’s scam some busters.”

Nami’s smile is just as devious. “Now you’re speakin’ my language.”

—

Usopp hiccups, unsure of his swaying is because of Sunny’s journey across the sea or the alcohol in his system. He pauses. Of course it’s not because of Sunny. She sails like a dream. He pats the grassy deck below him, apologizing to the beloved ship. He spares a mental apology to Franky, too.

Usopp smiles to himself, tipping his head back and enjoying the cool nighttime air.

His head swims pleasantly after a full night of spontaneous partying. The crew celebrated everything and nothing. They celebrated just because they could.

The party is long finished and Usopp is the only one still awake, one of the few sprawled out across the deck while others managed to drag themselves to bed.

A snore steals his attention and Usopp looks down at Luffy, who’s dozing in his lap, his treasured straw hat held to his stomach.

Usopp smiles and begins playing with his captain’s hair. He runs his fingers through the thick locks, noting that Luffy is long overdue for a trim. If Usopp wasn’t so drunk and wasn’t acting as a pillow, he’d cut it now, taking advantage of this rare moment of stillness.

But he’s very drunk and very comfortable and very much unwilling to disturb his friend, so he stays put, simply enjoying the moment, enjoying the feeling of Luffy’s soft hair between his fingertips.

“I can’t believe we’re friends, sometimes,” Usopp finds himself blurting. Alcohol having loosened his tongue even more than usual.

“When I was little, I was terrified that I’d never make any friends,” he finds himself confessing. “I was scared that I was gonna be alone forever. Even with Kaya and the boys I felt lonely all the time. But then, you came to my village. And you saved everyone. You asked me to come with you, and even though I still don’t understand why, I’m so, so grateful. You made my life worth living, Captain. I can’t believe we’re friends. I can’t believe I was so lucky to meet you.”

Usopp startles as Luffy sleepily reaches up, wiping the tears off of Usopp’s face.

“Stupid Usopp,” he murmurs, voice low but not missing its usual conviction. “Of course, I was always gonna find you. Of course, I’d take you with me. I love being your friend.”

“Even though I mess up all the time?” Usopp cries.

“Yeah. I make you mad all the time, but you’re still my friend, right?”

“Of course.”

“It’s the same for me. For all of us. We’re all happy you’re our friend and that you’re part of the crew.” Luffy yawns, blinking sleepily. He grabs the hat resting on his stomach and places it atop Usopp’s curls. “‘M not gonna let you be lonely again, okay? Now come on, let’s sleep. ‘M tired.”

Usopp smiles, sniffling and wiping away the rest of his tears.

“Okay, Luffy.”

[batboyblog]

Everyone wants a dramatic movie moment where our hero stands up, gives just the right speech and is gloriously victorious over the forces of evil.

but out here in the real world that shit don't happen.

McBride is stuck in a shitty place, but honestly she's really playing the best cards she's got. Like it or not (and I DO FUCKING NOT) trans people have taken a hellish beating in the court of public opinion over the last 3-4 years

these numbers are fucking BAD! no way to sugar coat that, and I'd say its because conservatives have had it nearly all their own way in defining what a trans person is. They've pushed, and clearly pretty successfully, an image of trans people pushing into "women's spaces" being scary, rude, pushy, male invaders. And this is an image that about 60% of the public agrees with, right now.

So how to change that and win the war? well Congresswoman-elect McBride's options are and were pretty limited, the Speaker of the House runs the House, he gets to say these kinds of rules. She could fight it, and try to force a floor fight on it. But 1. she'd lose, and maybe rather than a rule that a future Democratic Speaker could undo in a moment, Republicans might rally to pass a law effecting ALL federal buildings (which Congresswoman Mace wants) and 2. it'd just play into the unfair and mean idea of trans people as pushy invaders trying to muscle into women's bathrooms.

Sometimes in a fight you just have to take the first punch and hope it's not enough to put you down. And thats what Congresswoman McBride is doing, she's taking the first hit on the chin. Why? because then she becomes the victim, she plays to a winnable majority by appearing reasonable and cooperative, and Republicans obsessed with her and how she goes to the bathroom come off as unhinged, mean, crazy, and bullying. It helps that Congresswoman Mace looks like Regina George all grown up. McBride is successfully turning the fight into

If Sarah McBride can shift the conversation to trans people are just normal people who really just want to do their jobs in peace and transphobes are raving crazy people who will NOT shut up about pee, she'll have done the trans community a huge service.

this is why we fucking lose, and people are too fucking narrowminded and short-term thinking-inclined to see

[navybrat817]

The urge to interact online while simultaneously not wanting to interact out of fear of being annoying or because you feel like you don't belong. 😂😭

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.