#but also feel free to do it even if

[lazylittledragon]

ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????

[royalarchivist]

Etoiles: Guys, can we please– can we please give the $100k to Felipe?

Roier: Eh? What the fu– Ay ay ay ay– pendejos! Don't speak English, ok? Español. ¡Español!

Etoiles: Uh, uh, uh– [Singing] ¡Un, dos, tres!

Roier: [Also singing] Un, dos, tres, un pasito pa'lante María–

Phil: [In despair] ¡Inglés! Por favor!!! 😫

Roier: No, Inglés no, Inglés no. 😌

Phil: Inglés, por– 😭

Roier: Aqui Español, aqui Español. 🇲🇽 🇲🇽 🇲🇽

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

[fear-no-mort]

favourite thing: his new habit of saying uhuh/mhm and also this

[capydoodle]

have compassion for yourself and for others. it seems hopeless but any small amount of good you can do is just that much more love in the world

[hauntingofhouses]

Very interesting to me that a certain subset of the BES fandom's favourite iterations of Mizu and Akemi are seemingly rooted in the facades they have projected towards the world, and are not accurate representations of their true selves.

And I see this is especially the case with Mizu, where fanon likes to paint her as this dominant, hyper-masculine, smirking Cool GuyTM who's going to give you her strap. And this idea of Mizu is often based on the image of her wearing her glasses, and optionally, with her cloak and big, wide-brimmed kasa.

And what's interesting about this, to me, is that fanon is seemingly falling for her deliberate disguise. Because the glasses (with the optional combination of cloak and hat) represent Mizu's suppression of her true self. She is playing a role.

Take this scene of Mizu in the brothel in Episode 4 for example. Here, not only is Mizu wearing her glasses to symbolise the mask she is wearing, but she is purposely acting like some suave and cocky gentleman, intimidating, calm, in control. Her voice is even deeper than usual, like what we hear in her first scene while facing off with Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Episode 1.

This act that Mizu puts on is an embodiment of masculine showboating, which is highly effective against weak and insecure men like Hachi, but also against women like those who tried to seduce her at the Shindo House.

And that brings me to how Mizu's mask is actually a direct parallel to Akemi's mask in this very same scene.

Here, Akemi is also putting up an act, playing up her naivety and demure girlishness, using her high-pitched lilted voice, complimenting Mizu and trying to make small talk, all so she can seduce and lure Mizu in to drink the drugged cup of sake.

So what I find so interesting and funny about this scene, characters within it, and the subsequent fandom interpretations of both, is that everyone seems to literally be falling for the mask that Mizu and Akemi are putting up to conceal their identities, guard themselves from the world, and get what they want.

It's also a little frustrating because the fanon seems to twist what actually makes Mizu and Akemi's dynamic so interesting by flattening it completely. Because both here and throughout the story, Mizu and Akemi's entire relationship and treatment of each other is solely built off of masks, assumptions, and misconceptions.

Akemi believes Mizu is a selfish, cocky male samurai who destroyed her ex-fiance's career and life, and who abandoned her to let her get dragged away by her father's guards and forcibly married off to a man she didn't know. on the other hand, Mizu believes Akemi is bratty, naive princess who constantly needs saving and who can't make her own decisions.

These misconceptions are even evident in the framing of their first impressions of each other, both of which unfold in these slow-motion POV shots.

Mizu's first impression of Akemi is that of a beautiful, untouchable princess in a cage. Swirling string music in the background.

Akemi's first impression of Mizu is of a mysterious, stoic "demon" samurai who stole her fiance's scarf. Tense music and the sound of ocean waves in the background.

And then, going back to that scene of them together in Episode 4, both Mizu and Akemi continue to fool each other and hold these assumptions of each other, and they both feed into it, as both are purposely acting within the suppressive roles society binds them to in order to achieve their goals within the means they are allowed (Akemi playing the part of a subservient woman; Mizu playing the part of a dominant man).

But then, for once in both their lives, neither of their usual tactics work.

Akemi is trying to use flattery and seduction on Mizu, but Mizu sees right through it, knowing that Akemi is just trying to manipulate and harm her. Rather than give in to Akemi's tactics, Mizu plays with Akemi's emotions by alluding to Taigen's death, before pinning her down, and then when she starts crying, Mizu just rolls her eyes and tells her to shut up.

On the opposite end, when Mizu tries to use brute force and intimidation, Akemi also sees right through it, not falling for it, and instead says this:

"Under your mask, you're not the killer you pretend to be."

Nonetheless, despite the fact that they see a little bit through each other's masks, they both still hold their presumptions of each other until the very end of the season, with Akemi seeing Mizu as an obnoxious samurai swooping in to save the day, and Mizu seeing Akemi as a damsel in distress.

And what I find a bit irksome is that the fandom also resorts to flattening them to these tropes as well.

Because Mizu is not some cool, smooth-talking samurai with a big dick sword as Akemi (and the fandom) might believe. All of that is the facade she puts up and nothing more. In reality, Mizu is an angry, confused and lonely child, and a masterful artist, who is struggling against her own self-hatred. Master Eiji, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

And Akemi, on the other hand, is not some girly, sweet, vain and spoiled princess as Mizu might believe. Instead she has never cared for frivolous things like fashion, love or looks, instead favouring poetry and strategy games instead, and has always only cared about her own independence. Seki, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

But neither is she some authoritative dominatrix, though this is part of her new persona that she is trying to project to get what she wants. Because while Akemi is willful, outspoken, intelligent and authoritative, she can still be naive! She is still often unsure and needs to have her hand held through things, as she is still learning and growing into her full potential. Her new parental/guardian figure, Madame Kaji, knows this as well.

So with all that being said, now that we know that Mizu and Akemi are essentially wearing masks and putting up fronts throughout the show, what would a representation of Mizu's and Akemi's true selves actually look like? Easy. It's in their hair.

This shot on the left is the only time we see Mizu with her hair completely down. In this scene, she's being berated by Mama, and her guard is completely down, she has no weapon, and is no longer wearing any mask, as this is after she showed Mikio "all of herself" and tried to take off the mask of a subservient housewife. Thus, here, she is sad, vulnerable, and feeling small (emphasised further by the framing of the scene). This is a perfect encapsulation of what Mizu is on the inside, underneath all the layers of revenge-obsession and the walls she's put around herself.

In contrast, the only time we Akemi with her hair fully down, she is completely alone in the bath, and this scene takes place after being scorned by her father and left weeping at his feet. But despite all that, Akemi is headstrong, determined, taking the reigns of her life as she makes the choice to run away, but even that choice is reflective of her youthful naivety. She even gets scolded by Seki shortly after this in the next scene, because though she wants to be independent, she still hasn't completely learned to be. Not yet. Regardless, her decisiveness and moment of self-empowerment is emphasised by the framing of the scene, where her face takes up the majority of the shot, and she stares seriously into the middle distance.

To conclude, I wish popular fanon would stop mischaracterising these two, and flattening them into tropes and stereotypes (ie. masculine badass swordsman Mizu and feminine alluring queen but also girly swooning damsel Akemi), all of which just seems... reductive. It also irks me when Akemi is merely upheld as a love interest and romantic device for Mizu and nothing more, when she is literally Mizu's narrative foil (takes far more narrative precedence over romantic interest) and the deuteragonist of this show. She is her own person. That is literally the theme of her entire character and arc.

[flamingpudding]

That's my baby brother you attacked

Jazz stood in her Fenton Ghost Peeler Suit and crossed arms before a group of Gothams vigilantes. Her little brother was hugging her around the shoulder, in his Phantom form and floating. His face pressed into her shoulder and letting out quite ghostly whines couple with her name in ghost speech. He was clearly distressed.

With crossed arms, she glared at Gotham's vigilantes. They stood before her as a group. But the front took... Nightwing? She believed that was the name he used to introduce himself, who had the current Robin clinging to his arm. The kid looked as distressed as her brother, and normally, she would care to help, but right now, she was in protective sister mode. HER brother came first.

"We really mean no harm. It's just Robin and the others mistook him for a clone, and we would like to-"

"No." She cut the guy off. She glanced at HER baby brother, still refusing to look up and face the situation as he made another ghostly whine, before looking back at the group of vigilantes.

"I can see how they could be related." She raised an eyebrow below the visor at how hopeful the groups stance became. They don't know Danny's human form, but that's the excuse they use for attack her brother? They assumed he was a clone just because he looked like the inverted image of one of them? Fat chance that she would let them anywhere near him now. "But, you attacked MY baby brother-"

"And we are very sorry about that!" Nightwing cut in but Jazz ignored it.

"The point is you attacked him. I don't care if they are related. This is MY baby brother and if that is their reaction on seeing him and handling his own ghost rogues. I will NOT allow them to be part of his life unless Phantom wants it himself."

Turning around, she pat her baby brothers head and whispered to him in ghost speech. "Common Danny, let's go. Let's visit that planetarium you wanted to see later. After that we never have to come to Gotham again, I can go to another university somewhere far away from here."

They didn't know Phantom was Danny Nightingale, neither did they know that she was Jasmine Nightingale. This would be a one-time meeting and stay that way. Her baby brother did not need people like that in his life after the falling out with their parents they had.

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[dragonsareverycool]

A Brothers Reunion

The small summoning circle lit up, casting a soft green glow, as two eyes watched it with weary hope.

——————————————————

Two demons argued violently about a soul, and Danny sighed from his spot on the throne that fully claimed him a month ago. While he still found it hilarious how thoroughly this guy managed to swindle so many of the high ranking demons, it had started to cross into annoying territory. Danny was seriously considering making a whole office dedicated specifically to hold all the paperwork one ‘John Constantine’ was seemingly generating with his very presence. Suddenly, Danny felt a soft tug on his core, much gentler then the summoning rituals of all those crazy cultists that keep popping out of nowhere used. More like the circles he gave to Sam Tucker or Jazz. But he could feel the summoner’s emotions, and the poor guy on the other end felt like he was about to cry.

Danny mentally went through everyone he’s given his personal line to. Then, he shot up and called for Fright Knight to send the demons away while Danny quickly allowed himself to be pulled through the summoning circle to where his brother waited anxiously.

——————————————————

The circle flared, and a large eldrich like figure quickly crawled through. Then, a very familiar voice muttered

“Man I wish these things weren’t so dramatic. I already scared the shit out of the justice league because of it” as the being’s form shifted to the more familiar form he took when seeing Damian for the first time in a decade. His white hair looked a little longer now, and his eyes a less toxic green.

“Danyal” Damian said stiffly. Danny looked up, making eye contact with Damian before responding

“Damian” in response Damian lunged, pressing a blade to Danny’s neck before asking a question only Danny could answer.

“What’s the last story you told me?” Danny simply smiled nostalgically,

“There’s the Damian I know. I told you about Canis Minor 16 days before I died the first time.” Damian heasitated before putting away his weapon and paused before he quickly started to hug Danny, who returned the hug.

“… first time?” Damian asked, still in Danny’s arms.

“Mother didn’t tell you what happened to me after, did she?” Danny asked into his twins hair. Damian didn’t even bother to say anything and just turned his head to look at Danny balefully, before Danny sighed and said

“Of course she didn’t. I was dunked into the Lazarus pits, before mother dropped me off in the middle of nowhere America, where she forbade me from ever talking about my old life or ever attempting to contact you.” Damian paused to process this, before saying

“And the second time?” Danny sighed at that, his face set into a grimace. Damian started to move, bringing Danyal over to his bed, where Danny realized Damian had summoned Danny in his room. Damian sat them both onto his bed, and curled further into Danny’s arms, while gesturing to continue.

“I was adopted by a couple who claimed to be ‘ectobiologists’ who already had an older daughter named Jazz. She’s my sister.” Damian nodded solemnly at that, mentally adding ‘Jazz’ to his list of siblings. Danny pulled out his brick of a phone and started showing Damian pictures of his adoptive parents, his sister and everything else as he spoke about it. “They’d been working on a project in their lab since before they adopted me, longer then they’re had Jazz even. When I was fourteen, they finally tried to turn it on. It failed. It was a portal to what they called ‘The Ghost Zone’, but that realm is much more. The Infinite Realms are the glue that holds all universes together, and its a kind of afterlife. They didn’t know half of that, only that some souls of humans who died stay there, and even then, they thought that these ghosts were only a husk of their former selves, and couldn’t feel pain.” Damian started to connect the dots at that and asked

“You’re one of these ghosts?” It was almost a statement, but Damian wasn’t going to make many assumptions. Danny nodded before continuing

“I had two friends who convinced me to show them the failed portal. I walked inside of the portal we assumed was completely defunct, and I tripped over one of the many wires on the floor. When I tried to stabilize myself, I hit the on button.” Damian’s eyes widened, and he froze while Danny paused. After a moment, Danny continued, saying “My adoptive parents had connected the portal to the towns power grid, and the portal opened up on top of me. Electricity and ectoplasm, what ghosts and the Infinite Realms are made of, clashed inside my body, killing me and reviving me repeatedly until the portal finally spit me back out. I only half died that day.” Danny put his phone away and focused on playing with Damian’s hair. Damian reveled in his brothers affectionate touch like when they were small.

“Half?” Damian asks after a minute or two.

“Half. I technically have several ghost forms, and I have a human form” Damian looked up from Danyal’s arms, his eyes asking the obvious question he was a little afraid to ask, though he’d never admit it. Danny smiled at the unasked question, and rings of light formed around him, before dissipating and revealing a very much alive eighteen year old Danyal Nightingale. He grabbed one of Damian’s hands and pressed it against his neck, allowing Damian to revel in feeling his former dead brother’s pulse. Damian tested Danny’s wrist, and put his ear against Danny’s now warm chest.

Damian will deny the appearance of tears to his death, but Danny didn’t say anything, he just held Damian closer. After a while Danyal started to talk about the stars. Filling the silence with quiet but passionate rambling about stars and space. It was familiar. It was safe and warm and then Richard ruined the moment by slamming open Damian’s door yelling about a ‘Family Game Night’ and got a knife for his troubles. Of course he dodged with practiced ease, but then he realized Damian wasn’t alone in his room. Time seemed to freeze at the stand off. Dick had frozen, as the joy on his face seemed to leach away at the realization that there was an intruder.

[notbecauseofvictories]

it takes years for terry pratchett's books to get consistently good. I would argue that the series doesn't really hit its stride until Feet of Clay, which means that pratchett was writing and being published for 12 years before he found his groove.

and I genuinely can't imagine that. in part because I do think that pratchett's publication calendar looks different than what's expected of writers today---he had about 2 books published per year for his entire career. he must have been writing furiously, and the publisher must have relatively quickly gotten these to press.

but also....I just can't imagine any modern-day publisher keeping an author on their list for twelve years, unless that author is a prestige get or a constant presence on the bestseller list. And what does it say about the state of publishing that you can't go on publishing someone's good-but-not-revelatory books until they figure out what story they're trying to tell?

[sysig]

Those wacky skeletons ♥ (Patreon)

[menlove]

the way ppl see the star of david now is actually so gross and blatantly antisemitic it makes me sad. my gf's mom, who is jewish, got me a star of david pin w the trans flag like a year ago and I have it on a beanie I wear to work at a coffee shop sometimes. and today a group of Young White Gays came in & were staring me & the damn hat down like I'd spit in their coffee and they start whispering amongst themselves going "first starbucks and now this?" like abt the starbucks boycott lmfao I'm like

begging yall to understand that the star of david =/= israel and you assuming everyone you see wearing it is some violent islamphobe is actually incredibly shit. you should probably work on that. I've heard WAY too many stories of jews lately actually literally getting attacked for wearing one, which is much worse than annoying comments at a coffee shop to someone who's only jew(ish). if you Don't see an issue w that I really don't know what to say

[haveihitanerve]

Imagine for me please Gothamites mocking Batman because sure he’s their ‘savior’ and all, but he’s also one of them and it’s been a few years since he’s become Batman so he’s well known and just- Batman: *growling* go home! Teenager:… gO hOmE~ like what are you? My dad? Batman:… Teenager:… I’m kidding please don’t adopt me - Batman: I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Batman.  Gothamite: ~I aM vEngeAnCE~ like do you practice that in the mirror? Batman:…  - Batman: don’t sell drugs to students Drug dealer: doN’T sElL dRuGs tO stUdeNtS- please as if you didn’t need drugs to live in college  Batman:… Batman:… just… not too much Drug dealer: *scoffs* of course not dude I don’t want them overdosing we need more smart people who don’t want to kill everyone- plus if they die I lose a customer Batman:… good to know

Teenager: *walking home from school, drops books* Batman: *watching from a nearby roof* damn that sucks Teenager:... Batman: Teenager: *grumbles as they bend down to grab stuff* Batman: stay in school! Teenager: *flips him off* ~ Visitor from Metropolis: ugh omggg this city is soooo grosss! its because none of you have superman! all you have is that wannabe furry Batman! Gothamite:... *looks up and spots Batman* yeah you right Batman: fuck you! Gothamite: *grins and flips him off* Batman: *leaves* Gothamite: *beats the shit out of the Metropolian for saying something as blasphemous as that* ~ Gotham citizen: ugh i got my hair all done and no one notice- Batman: *from above* ohhh emmm GGGGG that sucksssss Citizen:.... Batman: :) Gothamite:.. no one asked you you furry black hotpocket Batman: :( ~

[theredcuyo]

I might be crazy with this one but hear me out

Batfamily PLATONIC soulmarks

Were it's a black blob that starts to take color that gives away it's form when you met said people, the more people you'll get, the bigger it is

At first, Bruce's parents were slightly worried upon seeing their son's mark, one that covered his whole torso, back and front, with only a little blank space in the place of his heart, where a tangle of lines seemed to met

Nor Thomas, with his years of medical experience, Martha with her wisdom or Alfred, who had seen far more than many, had ever look at something similar, although, they we're soon relieved, "Bruce will deeply love many people, and many people will return said love"

When the boy started to gain cognition, some color finally appeared in between all the black, a collar of pearls, like Martha's favorite, an scalpel, the one Thomas works with, and to Alfred's surprise, a cup of tea, mirroring the one he was drinking when they discocevered it, one that also connects all three to the tangle of lines around the heart

After that night, though, Bruce thinks it's impossible he'll ever get more, he doesn't want to get more, if it means he'll feel the same pain as now if he loses more of the people they represent

Then, many years later, after taking Dick in, a blue bird mid fly colors itself, a faint line joins the tangle.

He sighs whenever he sees it, after his son is not at home anymore, it doesn't faint, but will it really get better?

It happens again, when he finds a boy trying to steal his tires, it's another bird, a red one, it looks as if it were giving you his back, but it still connects to the hearth

It hurts to look at it, it's worse than before, he gets why it doesn't look at him now, he failed Jason-

Then, a few weeks into adjusting to Tim, he sees a new mark, and- it's a lighter tone of red

Another bird. This one is on a branch, it is making a nest

Then, when a girl comes in too, another bird, a purple one, sits on the branch with Tim's, this one also seems to be looking away

Just like Steph, he thinks

Along them, the shape of a smiling bat hangs upside down from the same branch, black but visible by golden edges that give away it's form, Cass

There are few more, here and there, hints of green when he met Barbara and Jim, Babs seem to fake the form of a hand next to Steph's and Cass's

Yellow, red and blue combine into two familiar symbols after he mets Clark and Diana, the only time he ever complains to his mark, why these people, why them, they're idiots

They're his best friends, but still idiots, he will never tell them, but they probably know anyway

Then, a new bird appears, and so does a color, a deep shade of green, this one looks like it's about to attack a prey

But, as Bruce gets time to know Damian, he realizes, it's not attacking, it's protecting the rest of the picture

A yellow figure of the sun gives it light, when he mets Duke

Maybe all the lines in the tangle have color then, maybe not

[lilmerh]

Any other aroallos annoyed by sex being viewed as shallow, loveless, not fuelled by "pure" emotions - just lustful, for your own pleasure - when that description is much more true for my romance?

Out of all of the attractions I feel (platonic, familial, sexual, etc) my romantic feelings are the most shallow and fleeting. It bothers me when romance is described as an inherently superior, deeper, and more pure form of attraction. That does not reign true to me at all!!

I love familially, I love platonically, and I love sexually. I love deeply and intensely. It bothers me when all that is overlooked because I happen to not love romantically enough.

No form of attraction is inherently purer or more valuable than another.

(I'm not shallow for experiencing sexual attraction nor heartless for not experiencing romantic attraction, thank you.)

[wtftaylr]

here have some Sadie Knox (my Courier Six) infodumping bc i am insane abt her rn

Sandra "Sadie" Knox / 5'2" / 34

Sandra Knox isn't her birth name, she got her first and last name separately from books she's read over the years.

Sadie is a scientist who worked as a courier and an overcharging con-artist repairman to save up caps to fund her research. She carries a notebook with her at all times, always scribbling down notes as it helps her think and process information.

Sadie is morally gray; a bit selfish and tunnel-visioned in her ways. Once Sadie has a goal, big or small, she’ll stop at nothing to achieve whatever it is. She has a unique way with words and can get you into trouble and out of it in the same sentence. This skill has saved her ass an insurmountable amount of times.

Due to her borderline extreme goal-contentedness, despite caring for those she loves and keeps close to her, she often comes off distant. Sadie has always had a rough time showing that she cares and her gestures can come off as awkward or forced. Her autism might be (is) partially to blame for this lol. Those willing to work past this awkwardness and allow her to adjust are rewarded with a ride or die friend for life.

She's got a reserve of pent-up rage. Though she can be quite irritable from minor conveniences [ex: she drops a pencil on the ground > emotional dysregulation from adhd rises > she's LIVID- ok she's fine now], she's not one to lash out at someone she loves. Her rage is kept internal and it weighs heavily on her shoulders.

Once speaking to Yes Man [before confronting Benny], she figures trying to get in on Benny's scheme is the opportunity she's been waiting for -- the prospect of a steady flow of caps excites her.

Oh and after her visit to BIG MT, she decides to help the Doctors by occasionally bringing them Mojave shit to research.

Sadie: look at the size of this legendary deathclaw hand. These things are large and terrifying, and despite the best efforts, nests continue to pop u-- Dr. Borous: the size of that hand.... Dr. Borous: it reminds me of my time in AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL, when RICHIE MARCUS took his HAND to my FACE and BEAT ME SENSELESS behind the school. the AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL-- Sadie: [patiently waiting bc she doesnt know when, or if, it is appropriate to intervene]