#shes allergic to losing
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strwbrryswiftt · 3 months ago
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TAYLOR SWIFT with her 12th Grammy
[ts gifs] [gifs]
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trans-leek-cookie · 2 months ago
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its past midnight and time to yap about Mouthwashing. Anyway obviously we don't see the Specific Events only how the characters react but with Anya... Okay I'm going to talk about the Sexual Assault not with Specific Details but that's what the post is about so
Anyways she reads to me as very like... trying to downplay the severity to herself. Like thinking through it (not having the exact quotes but) I feel like it'd be an unfortunately natural reaction- if you were stuck with 4 guys and the guy with the second highest position on the ship assaulted you depending on the situation. I feel like its not hard to imagine you'd try and reframe it as Less Bad to cope because let me be honest if I had to confront the implications of that, mainly the fact he could do it again and I wouldn't have any real way of dealing with it without complicating things even further bc he doesn't just have a close relationship with the guy with the Most Power on the ship, he also is in charge of keeping Me and The Other People On The Ship Safe, i would be in deep denial just to not lose my god damn mind like thats so fucking scary. And then the implication you tried to talk to the captain and even if he wasn't cruel he didn't Understand the Severity of what you were suggesting is like. Besides feeling afraid it could genuinely really fuck with my own perception bc like "if this guy who I trust says he's not a bad person maybe I'm just overreacting?" is. Again unfortunately understandable.
And again I'll say that Anya fully breaks down when the news breaks that pony express is fucked and like. 1. I think that's related to her own finances (and also. Literally just realized the way an abortion could interact badly with "no savings" like I Just Processed that fact. Like I knew "oh if she couldn't abort having to support a child wouldn't just be traumatic but also fucking nightmarish finance wise" but even having an abortion could make things so much harder.) 2. Jimmy LASHES OUT at Curly OPENLY. again based on my interpretation of Mildly In Denial To Cope this would. Like. Really fuck with that because it goes from "I trust the captain and I don't want to be afraid of my crewmate for a year" to "oh he is willing to verbally abuse the captain, who is his friend" and realizing I wasn't overreacting.
I also wanna point to the dead pixel conversation and obv it's symbolic but idk if it's meant as "there's a dead pixel that Anya noticed and she's using the topic to like test the waters" or if it's "anya is literally just trying to figure out Curly's thought process" which isn't like super important but like. Focusing on the way she starts the conversation by saying that she "Likes the illusion the screen has". (I don't remember the exact words sorry) But that's really interesting to me bc obviously you can read into Curly not seeing the dead pixel and instead focusing on the bigger picture (and how the dead pixel "doesn't ruin the illusion") but I think it's really interesting that Anya starts by talking Positively about the screen even though the dead pixel is there (and she can't stop thinking about it)
Like thinking through implications option 1: she's talking about the screen and uses the dead pixel to get a feel for how Curly responds to her bringing up issues
2: she's being entirely metaphorical and still trying to sort of self soothe- seeking external validation that the dead pixel Isn't Actually That Big A Deal (and therefore she's just overthinking)
3: idk how to phrase this exactly but ppl have talked Abt the way she talks to Jimmy, how it indicates a sort of "Fawn" response where she tries to keep him calm with compliments and stuff, and her talking about "enjoying the illusion" is her trying to do something similar with Curly- essentially starting the metaphor by downplaying the issue
Anyway. I don't know if I have a full conclusion but another thing is I think ppl need to acknowledge that while Curly fucked up and harmed Anya (mainly thru inaction). He's not uniquely shitty. Most people will be in a situation where they act similarly, and that DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS. I AM NOT SAYING CURLY IS ANY BETTER. I am saying that you need to be able to recognize your capacity for harm thru inaction and understand that like. He's not uniquely terrible he's just Normal Levels Of Unhelpful, which in a situation like Anya's is Dangerous
Like. Basically you can say "fuck jimmy fuck curly" all you want but you need to be able to understand that everyone including yourself has the same capacity for harm
#Mouthwashing spoilers#Rape ment#SA ment#Ask to tag#Idk I will say with the Anya thing: I'm a little bit speaking from personal experience#Of. There are things that I think about like ''ppl say These Things (that I experienced) are Very Bad but I don't think that's the case#For me'' like. Not consciously ''oh I'm over reacting'' but more ''well maybe my situation is different'' and it's really hard to figure ou#How much of that is genuinely the case and how much is denial y'know. 👍#Also Curly is a trans guy to me bc I'm hungry for characters who are trans men and just as culpable of willful ignorance and harm#As cis men. Anyway if anyone has a diff take on Anya's situation and)or mindset I'm open to hear it this is just my thoughts#Based on how the scenes read to me.#Also like the situation is delicate and this isn't like A Perfect Fix but genuinely Curly should've given Anya the gun#I don't think she would've shot it but it works as a Defensive Threat in a way that would give her security and also deter jimmy from being#A fucking problem because he doesn't experience consequences for his actions due to a mix of Captain's Friend and#''we can't really do shit to him or we lose our co-pilot'' (even tho he fucking sucks at his job they don't learn that until he#Is The Captain so they likely assume he's at least fucking. Functional and they would be worse off with him out of commission. Y'know)#But then again Jimmy's allergic to responsibility and consequences to the point of murder suicide so maybe Anya wouldve had to shoot him#Idk. Imagine me pacing full of rage. Imagining a universe where Anya can just fucking go to med school and doesn't have to deal with#The pony express. FUCK THE PONY EXPRESS
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iniziare · 4 months ago
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"I made a deal that allowed me to retain what life I had left in me. I may be sane, but one thing is certain — my mind is already at its limit…" (source: Clouds Leave no Trace)
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Jingliu's deal. This entire post that I will attempt to keep shorter (as I inevitably want to set this more into stone, since I'm fairly certain on this little personal theory) will be rather incoherent, so please forgive me. I simply insist on putting these thoughts out into the great beyond. But first, let me state some things that we know to be facts (or close to it) about the condition of mara, as (sadly) these two topics go hand in hand, and it's needed for me to touch on the topic of what I believe her deal to be rooted in.
Mara-struck. Based on information I can find in the wiki and the game records thus far tells me that the condition of mara can be equated to a slow descent into madness that is characterized by an inevitable craving for bloodshed and violence. This is something unavoidable, all long-lived species will fall victim to it, unless they die before they reach the age where it will set it (for instance, though Foxians live a long time, they seem to rarely live long enough for it to touch them). It seems to be tied to negative emotions which include hatred, depression, and trauma, which also means that people who are exposed to these emotions will fall victim to it faster (ie.: soldiers). Now since emotions are tied to lived experience, this means that they are inherently tied to memories. This is really further confirmed by Blade's unique situation. We are aware that he falls into the madness of mara repeatedly, and he only 'comes back from it' because Kafka actively erases his memories (as we learned in her SQ), which permits him to regain a semblance of lucidity; take her away, and he will be on an eternal rampage. Now, I've been scouring things for hours, but from what I can tell, once you fall to mara, or 'succumb' to its madness, there is no return to lucidity anymore. It's not a temporary state, but a permanent one. As for what it is like to be 'struck with mara' during its madness, we have a specific record of this from a heliobus by the name of Dawnyng (x):
"While inside the mara-struck body, I felt a vitality that is close to madness. How can I explain it to you - just like beasts are to humans, the mara-struck acts according to intuition and prioritizes their own survival over morals and ethics. But the difference between a mara-struck body's madness and that of a beast is even greater than the difference between a beast and a human… It's a more primitive form of life, a vitality that discards even the concept of corporeal existence."
It is a madness that starts in equivalence to a bull seeing red, and yet there is an extra detail to it that makes it infinitely worse, and that is the lack of recognition. And we know this through Jingliu herself. I direct you to the timestamp of 1:35 in the short called 'A Flash'. You see a flashback of Jing Yuan witnessing a mara-struck soldier, and his reaction of shock to a specific realization that overwhelms him:
Jing Yuan: Master... He doesn't recognize us. Jingliu: So it is with the mara-struck.
And when the scene resumes after an absolutely heart-breaking scene of Jingliu (I'm fine), you see Jingliu attacking Jing Yuan as if she has not a single concept of who she is fighting, even if he was one of the people she was most familiar with. The memory and the recognition of him is entirely gone, and not just that, she attacks him with the utmost intensity and brutality, she's akin to a rabid animal. That's what this short is supposed to tell us, it shows us just how how agonizing and utterly serious the condition of mara actually is. Any way, all of this to once more iterate (and to lead into my next and main point) what those who have fallen to mara once are like, and cannot come back from. Now, if anyone knows of any information that counters my presumption (based on too many hours of research, so I don't 'assume' this lightly) of it being permanent, please don't hesitate, but otherwise, I will stick to what the game seems to so far pretty much (to me) confirm at this point. Now, this leads into my next point for Jingliu.
We know that Jingliu had succumbed/fallen to the mara by the time Jing Yuan was sent to defeat her. The flashback where she's seen to have lost her mind seems to even indicate that it may have been prior to that. But by the time of their fight, it could be said it's irrefutable that she seems to no longer be herself, she appears to be fully stricken by the madness of the illness. Now if we can make the rational assumption that one cannot come back from this madness and that once it claims you, there is no more true moment of lucidity to follow, then the deal of which Jingliu speaks could not have been something that she sought out. Moreover in present-day, she notes that the only reason that she has any semblance of lucidity is because of her deal. Now, this would tell me that something or someone sought her out with an offer of one, rather than the other way around. Not just that, but I have a bit of a wonder when I watch the ending of 'A Flash', when the Lightning Lord's strike is about to hit her, and I see Jingliu's eyes that seem to, for a moment, possibly regain a sense of normalcy (but this is difficult to tell, as I find the 'red eyes' of madness to appear as a glow, rather than an actual coloring of the eyes; and the bright light of the Lightning Lord would render it invisible in the frame in question). What also colors me a little curious, is the fact that she doesn't move, and to me, that is because what she's witnessing is an extension of the power of Lan, an Aeon whose power rivals that of the Abundance (which is likely tied to the origins of the mara, as it first surfaced during the arrival of immortality and the illness strikes when one reaches an age that the mind can no longer keep up with). The reason I bring this up, and this is where I'm really getting rather incoherent, is that Jing Yuan was sent to defeat her, and even used the power given to him by Lan to do so, and yet she lived. Could he have spared her? Possibly, but why? You see how resigned he appears to be at the realization that she no longer is who he knew her to be— no, what I think is that she didn't indirectly die by Lan's hand, because Lan is the one who spared her, and who then offered her the deal that she ultimately took. Let me make an incoherent little list as to reasons why I think this to be the case:
We know that in the game thus far, that there is no cure for mara or the mara-struck. Blade retains his lucidity through Kafka (and what 'spirit whisper' is, is another topic entirely, I can only do one muse at a time), but there is no other case of lucidity in the mara-struck once they falter. And since mara seems tied to the Abundance, it is easy to note for me to assume that only one who could undo it to be Yaoshi themselves, which means that other Aeons should logically be able influence it in one way or another (though never in equal measure). Not directly so, but offer something of light measure to counter its effects Nothing will ever control a creation such as its creator after all, but one of equal status could do something of lesser influence (such as succeed in rendering the mara unable to fully grasp you, but leave you to deal with all of the illness' other effects as no one but Yaoshi can fully stop it).
To follow up on the previous point, Lan is actively noted in the loading screen tip as: They roam endlessly between worlds to eradicate the abominations created by the Aeon of Abundance. So... would they not benefit most from attempting to counter the effects within an individual?
"But Sae, why Jingliu?" To which I ask, why not Jingliu? Not only is she responsible for having killed and/or jailed enemies that no one else seemed to be able to counter (source: Jingliu's 4th character story), but there is none who seems to hold a stronger hatred towards the Abundance . If there is to be a war between Aeons, do you not assemble and call your most formidable soldiers to your side to fight for you? The Sword Champion who is said to be a once in a millennia phenomenon, why let her perish?
... Right, so this ended up being ridiculously long, nor do I have a proper conclusion as like I said, these are thoughts, incoherent as they are. But I do not see any other option as to what this deal could be— there is nothing else in existence that can counter the mara, there is no cure, everyone from Bailu to researchers say this same thing. And yet Jingliu's case is also vastly different from Blade's, who relies exclusively on Kafka's ability. Not only that, but we also need to keep in mind how old Jingliu has got to be. We know the sedition of Imbititor Lunae was roughly seven-hundred years ago, which means that Jing Yuan, Jingliu and Blade are all at least that, now beyond that, we're aware that Jing Yuan is older than Blade (as Blade was mortal before the events following Baiheng's death), and Jingliu has some years on Jing Yuan as long-lived species. On top of that, she has a voiceline that speaks of the age that the long-lived species can reach, which goes as follows:
"…When the people of the Xianzhou live to be more than a thousand years old, each day is like carrying the weight of a mountain through an interminable maze." (source: Clouds Leave No Trace)
The mention of 'more than a thousand years old' would correlate with assumptions of her age when we keep in mind that Jing Yuan would likely have to be around 800-900 if we keep in mind that one doesn't reach adulthood in a meager 50 years of those. But any way, that could indicate Jingliu to sit potentially well over a thousand, the mara has got to be excruciating. At that point, I don't see how the deal would be with anything less than an Aeon, and who would show any interest, unless one who would benefit from growing an army that is as impeccable as you can make it? And after all, she was, and I would not for a single second doubt that she would have remained so outside of her madness (based on her strict code of honor in terms of her oath), loyal to Lan and their Hunt, just as the rest of the Cloud Knights of the Xianzhou Luofu are. I just don't see another option.
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ghostlemon36 · 10 months ago
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Finding out I may have a heap of random allergies that may be causing some of my problems especially with my skin was NOT what I was prepared for this year
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sonicenvy · 7 months ago
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worst thing about legal weed in my state is that it smells like weed every-fucking-where here now. Like, tbh I don't really care what other people do, and if weed is your thing, go you! Have fun, get high! I just would rather not have to smell super skunky-ass fucking smelling weed when I'm on the train, at the park, or on the bus. Presumably there is somewhere the fuck else that you can go to smoke that is not on public transportation or in parks where there are CHILDREN, why do you not do that instead?????
Cigarette smokers have also similarly lost their damn minds since 2020. The cigs actually make me angrier bcs second hand cig smoke is practically as bad as smoking yourself when you're breathing in that shit. have these fools no consideration for:
literal fucking children who should not be exposed to that shit
everyone who is trying to quit that might be triggered by it
everyone who doesn't want to breath in smoke
literally anyone who isn't themselves
?????
god forbid y'all have to wait an extra twenty fucking minutes to light up somewhere else.
ok. rant over.
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heylinfanclub · 9 months ago
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Every time I see fictional enactments of people having mental breakdowns I’m like. ‘Is it not normal to do that like three times a week’. I’m going to have. Such major heart problems. My whole life. I just know it.
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The swinging between hysterical, sad and mad? The eyes wide rolling around in my damn skull? The struggle to breathe and not choke on your own spit? The sensation that you might just lash out at anyone or anything that gets too close? The existential hysteria questioning YOUR VERY EXISTENCE AND THE EXISTENCE OF CAUSALITY AND WHY THINGS ARE THE WAY THEY ARE AND COULD THEY NOT BE AND COULD SOMEONE JUST TAKE ME AWAY TAKE ME AWAY.
It’s that last part especially. When you start getting. So. In your god damn feels. YOURE BEGGING THE UNIVERSE FOR REPRIEVE ON REPEAT AS YOU SWAY BACK N FORTH LIKE YOURE HAVING THE WORST TRIP IMAGINABLE TRYING TO CONTACT GOD. HELP ME. HELP ME. HELP ME. HELP ME. KILL ME. RUN OVER MY HEAD. NEVER WAKE ME. SEND ME TO HELL ILL PAY FOR MY SINS NOW PLEASE PLEEAASSE ANYTHING BUT A MOMENTS MORE OF TORMENT. that kinda. Shit.
Every day people look at me and tell me I’m fine. I’m smart I’m practical I’m insightful I’m hanging on I’m resourceful I seem GREAT. Hell. My problems aren’t even that bad from their perspective (and maybe they’re right!)
I want to kill them every time and maybe one day I’ll smack someone across the face. Maybe break my knuckles smashing their nose into their brain. I think. I deserve it.
ANYWAY. had another lapse of mental angst because I cannot prioritize without a helper and that means I’m drowning in an infinitely vast array priorities, and should I spare one even a second of my attention, my anxiety comes running at me with a machete to ritually slaughter me for thinking for a second THAT was my highest priority.
I just want. To live. But I cannot. Because my brain doesn’t know what’s important. Except for. Being In a Domestic Cow Like State of UNTHINKING. and it makes me wanna explode my surroundings with my mind.
I’m getting a headache from being stuck in executive dysfunction too long and I donttt liikkeee iittttt.
LIKE. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HAVIN A GOOD ONE. I was supposed to be feelin a GOOD EMOTION SPARKED. INSPIRATION. INSPIRATION FOR MY DESIRE TO WRITE A STORY. But instead. I was smacked with that reminder that. I don’t choose what’s important and what needs to be done and if I do it. I don’t get to choose. So why both having dreams? Why bother having wants? Wishes? Why bother? (It would matter more if I had a community that HELPS ME and maybe I have a community that PROTECTS me but that’s. Not the same. I feel so fuckin brainless. My thoughts bounce in every direction but go Nowhere. They loop back on themselves and fight each other like rabid animals. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with a brain like this. Forever. Happily. Not without reliable support. Which doesn’t exist. There is no such thing as reliable. Everything is temporary. So it’s always fINE THEN you have to FIND A WAY TO COPE. ALONE? FOREVER? It’s bullshit. I hate this shit. Ahhhhh.
I wanted to think Ooo Ahh inspiration for a story I want to write so bad.
But it just went ‘when. When will you write. How. Will you be afloat. Will it distract you. Distract you from friends from life from stability? You can’t even take care of yourself you don’t deserve to do anything until you can take care of yourself and function with others and *you have so many other higher priorities that will kill you if you do not attend to them first*’
Weeps
THERAPIST SAID I DIDNT HAVE OCD. NOT EVEN PURE O. AND MAYBE SHE RIGHT. I CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. IF PUSHED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. WHICH IM NEVER. BECAUSE IM ALONE. AND THAT MEANS I END UP RUMINATING TIL I HAVE HEART AND STOMACH PAINS. AHHHHHHH.
Awoooo
Awoooo
I hate it
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lynxalon · 11 months ago
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have to rehome the cats :(
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grandwretch · 2 years ago
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how am I scheduled the most hours of anyone and I'm still the first one they ask to cover shifts. I am so burnt out. Fuck offfffffffff.
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david-watts · 2 years ago
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I’m gonna kill someone!! I really fuckin am at this rate!!
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bruciemilf · 3 months ago
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Anyway, thinking about how Bruce’s mom tendencies bleed over around the League.
He pulls out a Barbie pink scrunchie from his endless utility belt.
Oliver is very sure he’s seen it in Spoiler’s blonde mane before. He wordlessly secures Diana’s hair in a ponytail before she jumps into battle.
Barry skins his knee while running, which, considering, is pretty severe. Definitely not the kind of wound you can treat with Gray Ghost bandages.
“I’m NEVER taking this off.”
“Okay, gross?”
“Shut up, Hal, you don’t even wash your suit, you just make a new one every time!”
“I’m allergic to laundry detergent, everybody knows that, BARRY.”
Bruce does not tolerate their fighting for more than 15 minutes at a time. “I will count to 3.”
Hal is quite literally flabbergasted when, after a particularly rough mission, Batman walks over to him and gently places a plate of fruits before him.
“Hal,” in that rain soft voice. “Fruit.”
“…Thanks?”
He just walks off. Like it’s nothing.
“…Did he just do something nice for me? Everybody saw that, right? You’re all witnesses. “
Everyone’s equal parts shocked and equal parts losing their shit. Clark’s eyes are just slightly red.
“I need to take a nap.”
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fanfoolishness · 22 hours ago
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Just losing my mind at the implications that the companions have all been trying to help Rook grieve Varric, and Rook doesn’t know
Emmrich, wise and long-familiar with grief, being told by Neve and Harding what happened; understanding why sometimes he overhears Rook’s muffled voice in the Infirmary, talking to no one. He takes Rook to the Memorial Gardens and mentions he talks to his parents, thinking Rook might be comfortable with the same. Rook lights candles and rings bells but Emmrich watches, sorrowed, to see Rook still seems in deep denial.
Neve takes Rook to the Wall of Light; a Shadow Dragon Rook knows just what this means but any Rook can understand the solemnity, the power of remembrance. Neve reenergizes Brom’s light and looks to Rook, hoping Rook will mention wanting to make one for Varric. Rook is kind and comforting to Neve, but Neve is lost in wondering why Rook doesn’t take the chance to open up. She can’t figure it. Maybe Rook just can’t face it, not yet. Maybe Rook does something privately. She isn’t sure but it nags at her.
Davrin’s not big on talking about feelings. He’d rather just move on. But he sees the way Rook seems a little hollow sometimes, a little distant; he sees how Rook takes so quickly to Assan. “Hey Rook,” he says, and invites them to come with him and Assan to safe places in Arlathan, where the woods are clean and green and growing, where real sunlight dapples through the trees. Rook always seems to love these outings, seems lighter afterwards. But Davrin feels a little confused in that Rook never seems to realize the outings are mostly for them.
Taash is another person not big on feelings. But they know how much feelings can twist you up and mess with your head. When Lace tells them about Varric they feel badly for Rook, and think to how they feel when they’re struggling. Epic fights, dragon fights, drinks with the Lords. Taash is perfectly capable of doing all that on their own. But maybe bringing Rook along will help get them out of their head a little bit. Does it help? Taash isn’t sure.
Bellara’s double-versed in grief after what happens to Cyrian. Rook helped her through trying to reach him, and Bellara wonders, in her own pain, if she can help Rook a little bit too. Especially if Rook is elven, teaching Rook about the braziers and the challenges is another tool she can share about her or their people, another way that might help Rook with their grief. Neve’s told her that the Wall of Light didn’t seem to help Rook much, but maybe a different funeral tradition could help them instead. Rook helps her light the braziers and Bellara feels her heart lightening, though she wonders at Rook, who seems more moved by Bellara’s reactions than anything else.
Lucanis is nearly as allergic to dealing with feelings as Davrin is, but he immediately clocks how Neve and Harding are acting, and asks what happened before he joined them. They tell him about Varric and that they’re worried about Rook, that Rook seems to just be shoving those feelings down without dealing with them. Lucanis is no stranger to that, but while it’s fine for him, he doesn’t want to see someone who risked their life to save him share that struggle. He brings Rook to Caterina’s funeral planning to show Rook it’s okay to admit the loss and honor it. When that doesn’t seem to make a dent, he falls back to his standard - lavish meals, small gifts, coffee. He knows it would help him. He just wishes it helped Rook too.
Lace hurts the worst after losing Varric and Lace is where Solas’ magic comes the closest to faltering. Rook can see Lace is down, she’s quiet, she’s afraid after what happens with the gods escaping; but Solas’ magic holds and Rook can still never see quite why. Lace would love to sit over drinks one night and share stories about Varric, but she sees that Rook doesn’t seem ready, and she doesn’t want to push. Instead she writes letters to Ma, to the Inquisitor, to Cassandra, to Aveline, maybe even to Hawke. She writes out her stories with Varric’s old quill and she carries a bolt of Bianca with her. A dozen times she goes to talk to Rook about him, and when she tries Rook turns away or changes the subject. It hurts, but Lace knows she can’t make Rook talk about him, and she hopes in time it will get better.
This just absolutely crushes me the more I think about it 😭
Edit: Varric’s death is Rook’s personal companion quest every other single companion tries to help them with, and can’t 😭😭😭
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azriaann · 9 months ago
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no literally it pisses me off so much, there is no SHOT that he wouldn’t be beside himself with “omg i hurt my friends” ESPECIALLY WITH IT BEING LUCY!!!
it undermines the severity of natsu’s loss of self control too… like why in the world would him scaring the shit out of everyone and trying to literally murder the water dude be a joke😭
they easily could’ve used this moment to set up natsu’s character and continually flesh out his guilt+fear of hurting his friends throughout the series BUT NO!!!! they just decided to mischaracterize him instead🙄🙄🙄 anyways i agree this is the worst scene ever
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I despise this moment with every fiber of my body.
I think Natsu is so out of character here, I don't even know what mashima was thinking.
What do you mean you just burned one of the most important person in your life and the reaction is THAT? Joking like it was nothing, like what Lucy went through was nothing. She put herself in danger, burning herself in the process of saving him and this is what we get? Yeah, he apologized but come on.
I know it's been a long time since this happened but it's like my Roman empire in the worst possible way.
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moonstruckme · 7 months ago
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i was wondering if we could have some roomate!james where him and reader have a disagreement over something and reader feels like james don’t want her there anymore but he comforts her??
Thanks for requesting!
cw: reader feels financially insecure
roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“James.” You run your fingers worriedly over the small tears in the doorframe. Look to your roommate in the kitchen. “This is getting out of hand.” 
“What is?” 
“Juniper’s been scratching on the doorframe again.” 
James tsks. “Junie-girl,” he coos, little reprimand to be found in his tone as he looks down at the orange cat currently winding through his ankles, “what are you trying to do to us, huh?” 
You’re not quite so amused. Since James had agreed to look after his friend Lily’s cat while she’s traveling, Juniper has knocked down and broken two of your glasses, scratched up a corner of the couch, and pissed on the carpet in James’ room. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with the smell of that last one yourself, but you doubt your landlord will be pleased if James can’t get it out by the end of your lease. 
“She’s got to stop,” you say, oddly unsure if you’re trying to reason with James or the cat. “It’s getting really noticeable.” 
“I’m not sure what else to do.” James shrugs. His pan sizzles as he turns over the chicken he’s cooking. “I’ve already moved her favorite scratching post over by the door and sprayed it with the catnip Lily gave me.” 
You cross your arms and sit down on the couch, chewing the inside of your lip. “I’m worried about the security deposit,” you admit. 
“Oh, don’t be.” James waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “My last apartment was way worse than this when I moved out, and they didn’t charge me for anything.” 
His unconcern nettles you. Of course, why would James be upset about a security deposit? He likes to pretend at independence, but you know his parents will always give him funds if he’s in a bind. He doesn’t worry about money the way you do. 
 “Yes, but that was a different landlord, wasn’t it.” There’s a bit of bite to your tone, and you try to soften it. “Maybe someone else could take her for the rest of Lily's trip?” 
James turns, eyebrows lifting as though he’s surprised you’d even ask. “She couldn’t get anyone else to take her in the first place. Mary’s visiting her family, Marl’s allergic, and Sirius would have a cow.” You’re not very inclined to find the last one a spectacular excuse, but you keep your mouth shut. “I agreed to take her,” he says, somewhat firmly, “and I don’t want to go back on that.” 
Heat prickles over your skin. “I just—listen, I can paint over the small things,” you say. “I’m going to try to cover up as many damages as I can, but when your friends come over and break the handle off the microwave” —true story— “or you let their cats tear up the apartment, I don’t know what to do.” 
“I told you I’m going to fix the microwave,” he says without turning around. 
“When, James? That was months ago, and—” 
“And if my friends coming over is a problem for you, it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of opportunities to mention it when we first moved in.” Now James is growing agitated too, his posture stiffening over the stove. “I don’t get where this is coming from. I told you before we moved in that I’d want to have friends here often. When I asked if Junie could stay here, you said it was fine!” 
“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” You feel ridiculous, nearly shouting at him in your mostly lovely apartment. James really isn’t a bad roommate overall; you know you could do far worse. But the small things have begun to add up, and you really cannot afford not to lose your deposit. “I like your friends, and I like Junie, but this is—it’s too much.” 
“You shouldn’t have lived with me if you couldn’t deal with it.” 
James flicks off the stove, turning around to speak to you directly, and you see the moment he sees the glossy sheen in your eyes. His expression pinches. 
“Sweetheart—” 
“No. Do not feel bad for me right now,” you hiss, blinking furiously. “Just because I’m not good at arguing doesn’t mean I’m not still mad.” 
Your anger is rapidly fading, though, as his words reverberate around in your head. You shouldn’t have lived with me. Does he really think that? There are certainly things upon which you don’t see eye-to-eye, but you love living with James. You love spending time with him, sharing things with him, just being around him. The idea that he doesn’t feel the same about you starts spiderweb cracks going through your heart. 
“I’m not good at arguing either,” he says with a hefty sigh. The tension seems to go out of his shoulders with it, and he starts toward you with heavy steps, plopping down on the couch. “Can we just talk, please?” 
You sniffle, working hard to suppress your tears. “Do you think it’d be better if we didn’t live together?” you ask. 
James' eyes widen behind his glasses. His brows hook up in the middle. “No. Why would you say that?” 
You shake your head, not quite looking at him. “I honestly do like your friends. I don’t mind them coming over or helping you do favors for them, and I get that—that sometimes things happen.” You take a shallow breath. Ignore the way James’ hand twitches in his lap. “But you’re right that I didn’t consider all of this when we moved in together. I’m okay with trying to get past it, but if you want me to move out—” 
“Oh my god, no.” James leans forward, trying to catch your gaze. You don’t let him, because just then a small droplet of water squishes out of the corner of your eye and begins a slow trudge down your cheek. “Sweetheart, I don’t want that. I like living with you.” 
Juniper hops up onto the couch, plodding onto your lap and rubbing her side against your stomach affectionately. A wet laugh bubbles out of you, more tears cresting your cheeks as you scratch awkwardly between her ears. 
James makes a sound so soft you think you’ll dream about it. “Can I hug you?” 
You lean toward him in answer. He meets you halfway, needling his arms under yours and folding you into him. You press your face, hot with embarrassment and upset, into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and James’ hand rubs your back in big, sweeping circles, before it stops moving at all, pressing flush to your spine, easing you closer. Junie hops off your lap. Evidently, she considers your comfort taken care of.
“I don’t want you to pity me,” you mumble. When you blink, your lashes leave wetness like the strokes of a paintbrush on his skin. “If you want me to move out, it’s okay.” 
“I don't,” he promises, squeezing you until it almost hurts. “I was being rash. I was only being defensive because you were angry. About very reasonable stuff, if I’m honest. I can pay for your half of the security deposit if we lose it.” 
You shake your head, shifting your body to hug him harder. James meets you a hundred percent. “You don’t need to do that.” 
“I do, it’s fine. It’s my mess. Just don’t talk any more about moving out, okay?” 
You mumble your agreement into his neck. It tickles, and James squeaks, but he doesn’t let you go.
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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago
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Sharing is Caring (II)
Summary: Things get complicated, but you find yourself sharing a bed with Miguel… once again. Too bad someone else is in the room.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Sharing one bed. Semi-public. Blue balls. Sexual tension. Mutual masturbation. Creampie. Implied cockwarming.
* ˚ ✦ Part 1. (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, though)
You were fucked.
Extremely fucked.
Not only had the anomaly managed to slip through your fingers, effectively disabling the trackers scattered around, but you were also fucked, because now you were left to deal with the aftermath of a very intimate encounter with Miguel.
It was nearly five in the morning and the night was nowhere near being done. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, which helped with visibility and grip, and having Lyla assist you as in replacing the faulty sensors was also very much welcome.
“Sensor 24 up and running,” the AI’s sing-song voice announced, as the device bleeped green.
You leapt over the railing, shooting a string of web to the side of the hotel, so you could swing through the window.
As you landed with a clumsy thump, you noticed Miguel had already gotten back from his reconnaissance check.
He looked positively… pissed off.
Great.
“Lyla, call her,” her grumbled, checking his watch.
“Already did,” she announced, appearing by his shoulder. “Want me to run a diagnostics of the perimeter once again?”
“Do it in five minute intervals,” he said flatly. “The anomaly must be nearby.”
You removed your mask and considered sitting on the bed, but were soon reminded that not even thirty minutes ago, you were getting fucked by Miguel.
A shudder ran through your body.
“You okay?” he asked, his narrowed eyes on you.
You shrugged. “Sure.”
The problem with having impromptu sex was that now you were left to deal with the soreness between your legs, and the frustration of an orgasm that never came to be.
Did Miguel feel the same way?
Your eyes roamed his body, and you find yourself glaring at his-
“Hey! I need you to focus,” Miguel said with a snap of his fingers. “There’s still a chance we deal with it tonight.”
You were about to snap back when a loud distorted buzz filled the room, swirls of flashing lights nearly blinding you, as the inter-dimensional portal expanded quickly in pulsating waves.
Through came Jessica Drew, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.
Fuck.
“What are you doing here?” Miguel growled, pointing at Peter.
“What?” he asked, eyes widening in confusion.
Miguel wasn’t known to be a very patient man, and you reckoned his patience was now hanging by a thread. “I called for Jess. Not you.”
Jess let out an exasperated sigh. “Easy, Miguel. We were both on the same mission.”
He straightened up, but crossed his arms. “Right.”
“Care to explain why I had to leave to be here?” she went on, resting on hand on her swollen belly. “How did you lose track of the anomaly?”
He exchanged a brief look with you. “The sensors didn’t alert us in time.”
That was true.
“Weren’t you supposed to be monitoring, regardless?”
“We dozed off,” you chimed in. “Momentarily! Just for a while.”
Not really true…
Jess glanced at you, suspicion written all over face.
“Sleeping on the job,” she then chuckled, eyeing Miguel deviously. “Didn’t think you’d ever do that, Miguel.”
He narrowed his eyes menacingly. “We weren’t sleeping. We were just resting our eyes for a moment.”
A blatant lie.
“What’s that on your neck?” Peter suddenly asked with a worried look on his face.
Oh….
You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the tender hickey spot. “Bug bite.”
“Allergic reaction,” Miguel blurted out at the same time.
Fuck.
You shot him a murderous look.
Jessica arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”
“An allergic reaction to a bug bite,” Miguel said with a shrug, growing visibly annoyed.
A wave of relief washed over you momentarily. That seemed plausible enough.
But…
“Oh, really?” she asked with a knowing smile. “What bug? A spid-”
But Miguel was already cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this!”
Peter walked to you, craning your neck to the side. “You should have it checked. It looks serious.”
Ah, Peter… ever the innocent.
“Jess, you stay with us,” Miguel says, dragging Peter away from you at once. “We need an extra pair of eyes.”
She frowned. “No. Peter stays. I need to get some sleep,” she said, patting her belly.
“No!” Miguel growled.
“Actually, I was thinking of heading back home,” Peter drawled out, rubbing the back of his head. “Mayday should be waking up soon.”
“And I’m pregnant,” Jess shot, holding her chin high.
Peter swallowed and fell silent. The deal was sealed.
“Lyla, any updates?”
The hologram popped up instantly. “No, boss.”
Jess glanced over at you one last time, before stepping into the portal once again. “You should really have that checked. Whatever bug did that seems… vicious,” she then slipped into the vortex, which vanished behind her.
You momentarily froze in place, feeling the dread of realisation hit you like a ton of bricks.
She knew.
“I’ll be right back,” Peter drawled out with a yawn and a stretch, disappearing into the bathroom.
The moment you heard rhe door click shut, you turned to Miguel.
“An allergic reaction to a bug bite?” you hissed.
He scowled deeply. “Because simply saying bug bite sounded ridiculous.”
“She didn’t believe it, regardless.”
Miguel was suddenly towering over you, his face twisted in annoyance. “Then why does it matter?”
“Because… you gave me a visible hickey!”
It was a silly thing to get upset about. There were worse things in life than having Miguel O’Hara marking you as a result of built up sexual tension.
But you didn’t want to give in.
“Got carried away,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah…”
He cleared his throat. “But I have a problem.”
You looked up at him. “What problem?”
“Well…” he said, glancing at the bathroom door.
“Peter?”
“No!”
You clicked your tongue. “Then what?”
His placed both hands on his hips and glanced down.
Your eyes followed suit.
Oh.
Oh.
“What? Why are you… what?” you stuttered in disbelief at the sight of the outline of his hardened cock.
“Biology, remember?” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not going away.”
You somehow managed to tear your eyes from the impressive bulge. “Go jerk off, then!”
He had you walk back until you hit the wall behind. “It won’t go away.”
Had you just given Miguel blue balls?
“How’s that my problem?” you huffed, staring intensely into his crimson eyes.
“This is all your fault.”
“Oh, really? I thought we were blaming Biology.”
Before Miguel could retort, the sudden squeak of a door being swung open, had you slipped past him.
Peter emerged, eyeing you both. “Oh, I see what this is.”
Miguel had to move strategically in order to hide his raging boner from him. “What do you mean?”
“I know what’s up with you two,” Peter said, with a playful grin. “All the whispering and whatnot.”
Great.
Were you two that transparent?
“Huh…”
Miguel had pursed his lips.
Peter paced closer to you, eyeing you with a knowing smile. “You’re deciding on Jessica’s birthday present, right?”
You blinked a few times and heard Miguel exhale nearby.
“Right? I knew it!” he threw his arms in the air as if he’d just won the lottery.
In truth, you were simply baffled at how innocent Peter could be. The immediate weight that was lifted off your shoulders was enough to draw a laugh from you.
“Sure!”
“Of course, Peter,” Miguel said, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm. “We went on this mission, so we could go through birthday checklists.”
A layer of pride settled on Peter’s face. “Ah! You’re growing soft, Miguel.”
You winced at his poor choice of words.
“But fear not!” he said as if he was about to fight off the anomaly himself. “We’ll take turns watching. You two can get some rest and properly plan it out,” he then pinched his thumb and index finger together and dragged them across his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Miguel didn’t budge at first, but you were all too grateful to stop this insane conversation altogether.
“Thanks, Peter.”
“Of course,” he smiled widely, pacing to the open hotel window, leaping into the the sky night.
You shot Miguel one last look before slipping inside into the comfort of the bedsheets, welcoming the softness.
But you were sorely mistaken if you thought Miguel wouldn’t have followed you.
Your heart skipped a beat. Or two.
You had turned to face the wall, hoping he’d take the hint, and leave you be.
But once you felt his erection pressing into your ass, you knew you were a goner.
There was something extremely empowering about having a man like Miguel be so needy and desperate.
He scooted closer until his breath fanned your ear. “Can you just…”
You scoffed, pride swelling inside you. “Go ask Biology to jerk you off.”
“Whawt?”
“You keep blaming it, so…”
Silence fell between you two.
His hand then came to grip your hip. “It’s you.”
“I didn’t catch that,” you said, feeling his thumb rubbing gently, as he pushed the top half of your suit increasingly higher.
He rolled his hips into you, letting out a shaky moan in your ear that had your skin raise with goosebumps.
You flipped onto your other side to fully face him, and Miguel immediately took your lips with his, kissing you hungrily.
His hand dragged the fabric all the way up until he managed to expose one breast, breaking the kiss only to move down to suck on your hardened nipple.
The thought that he might be too much vaguely crossed your mind. For the second time that night you were meeting a side of Miguel that you had never seen before.
A side you much preferred.
Your fingers dragged through his hair, silently praising him.
In no time, you watched his digital suit disintegrate, giving you full access to the beautifully sculped body underneath.
He gripped your wrist and lowered it until your fingers grazed his cock. Knowing fully well what he craved, you wrapped them around it, earning an immediate jerk of his hips.
“Miguel…” you moaned, letting him freely fuck your hand, spilling more and more precum.
He released your nipple and had his forehead resting on your shoulder, his hand on top of your, making sure you squeezed tighter and tighter.
It didn’t take long for your hand to be soaked with precum, making it easier for him to slide up and down.
You squeezed involuntarily and a gush of wetness spilled into your underwear, your body yearning for him to fill you up with his cock.
He moved his hips deliciously, and you focused on taking in the wet sounds that filled the room as well as his breathless grunts.
But such bliss was short-lived as you heard Peter bolting into the room with a swish of his web.
Well…
Miguel immediately stilled, letting go of your hand.
You didn’t let go of his cock, instead peeking over his shoulder only to find Peter rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor.
He then turned to face you, and your head immediately slumped against the pillow, eyes on Miguel’s.
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
Peter’s voice was but a whisper. “Your heart rate is accelerated.”
Ah… spider senses.
“Yeah… I’m just a bit tense… it’s fine,” you muttered, feeling Miguel’s cock twitch in your hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll take over.”
“Oh! Thank you,” he beamed. “Mayday has been giving us terrible nights, and I could use a few minutes.”
You watched as he fluffed out his pillow before settling down on his back with a yawn.
Miguel’s breathing has steadied momentarily and you eventually let go of him.
But he quickly got a hold of your wrist.
The implication of that action wasn’t exactly subtle and you widened your eyes.
“No,” you mouthed right away.
His crimson eyes had darkened and you spotted his fangs from behind his lips.
You shook your head vehemently.
This was a bad idea.
But as soon as Peter’s snores tore through the room, you felt your heart clench.
“Peter is right there… he will hear it!”
He pressed an urgent kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be quiet. I’ll help you be quiet,” he promised, pressing his cock further into your already soaked crotch.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and just as you were about to let out a low whimper, you felt his hand cover your mouth, effectively reigning it in.
“Quiet.”
The other travelled down painfully slowly, palm grazing your exposed breast briefly, before resting just above the waistline of your suit.
“You have to be quiet,” he warned in a barely audible tone.
You nodded and he lifted his hand from your lips.
“We shouldn’t…” you muttered under your breath.
But your words were not matching your actions, as you dragged your hand covered in precum across his hard chest, taking your time to gently rub his nipple with your thumb.
You thought Miguel had stopped breathing altogether, but soon realised he was merely attempting to hold back a moan.
His fingers quickly slipped past the the waistline, finding your clit and drawing small circles. You had to bite your lip hard to suppress a whimper, rolling your hips into him.
You found his cock again, gripping it desperately and giving him a few pumps that matched the tempo of his strokes.
The thrill of indulging in such experience even when someome else was in the room, and with the increased chances of being caught, merely added to the pleasure you were already feeling.
“You’re doing good,” Miguel praised you through a shaky breath. “So good…”
Impatience took over and you wiggled out of your bottom half of the suit, allowing you to grant him betterr acces, as hou parted your legs.
He immediately seized it and slipped one finger inside.
You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from groaning, eyes fluttering shut.
His breath was on your ear again. “Can you take one more?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice. A second finger immediately joined the first one, slinding inside effortlessly.
Feeling that you had managed to keep yourself under control, you dropped the hand covering your lips to grip his cock.
“And another one?”
You shook your head, fearing that would be too much. He pressed a kiss to your neck with a sigh, as he fucked your hand in a slow rhythm.
The knots of pleasure in your lower abdomen let you know that you were headed towards the precipice. You kept on riding his fingers relentlessly, your mind suddenly hazy from the feeling of being so full of him already.
“I’m close…” he mouthed, his breath shaky and cock twitching.
He had bared his fangs, and you thought you’d combust on the spot, realising he was truly overwhelmed with pleasure.
Finding your voice again, you whispered sensually, “Where do you want to cum?”
His eyed widened, pupils fully blown.
Your hips faltered briefly, grazing your clit across the palm of his hand. “Inside?”
He pressed his eyes shut and dug his fangs into his lower lip. “I won’t last.”
“I know,” you moaned, dragging thumb across his tip, feeling more droplets of warm precum coating your skin.
Peter suddenly let out a loud snore that made you jolt.
“Are you close?” Miguel asked.
“I’ll be with you inside me.”
You shifted on the mattress, and he removed his fingers from you at once, a wet sound filling the room.
Your body shuddered from the loss, but you soon felt his tip proding your entrance.
Before you could take another breath, he jerked his hips and slipped past your fold effortlessly.
His hand was on your mouth again, and this time you could taste yourself, as he struggled to keep your moans at a minimum.
It was also evident the sudden position was taking a toll on him. His steady pace was faltering with each passing second.
You soon entered the familiar point of no return, feeling an intense wave of pleasure tear from within you, blinding your vision with each pulse and contraction. It took all of your not to moan out loud even against his hand, the few shreds of sanity having a hold on you.
Miguel joined you, clearly not able to withstand the rhythmic squeezes around his cock as you reached your high.
Your caught a glimpse oh him biting the back of his other hand hard. He would for sure draw blood with his fangs, but you couldn’t even stay properly focused.
He bottomed out as deep as he could, spurts of cum coating your squeezing walls.
The two of you were struggling to breathe, shallow pants surrounding you.
“Oh my god! Butterfly!”
Peter…
You jerked away from Miguel in distress but with him still buried deep inside you, catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the floor, breathing rapidly.
“Go back to sleep. It was just a dream,” you said with a smile.
Miguel pulled you into an embrace. “You did good.”
“Me? Not Biology?”
He scowled deeply.
“You can slide out now…” you whispered with a yawn.
Miguel didn’t move. “I want to stay a little longer likes this.”
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Masterlist
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shitswiftiessay · 1 year ago
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swifties are angry at joe alwyn for posting about gaza on taylor’s birthday, calling him “pathetic,” “manipulative,” and “evil.”
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I wish I could tell you that this was all a joke, that these are all parody accounts, but they’re dead serious. and of course we get the conspiracy theory about HIS TEAM trying to make him look good, because anyone who comes online and says anything critical about taylor MUST be a member of joe alwyn’s PR team. 🙄
but yeah, swifties are convinced that joe was trying to SHADE taylor by posting about gaza on her birthday, because s hasn’t said or done shit regarding this issue. also, they literally cannot fathom that there is anything happening in the world that is MORE IMPORTANT than a billionaire’s birthday.
and these swifties really need to ask themselves: WHY does joe alwyn posting about gaza make them SO ANGRY? is it because they’re reminded that taylor has not done or said JACK SHIT about palestine because she’s too afraid to lose money by being too “controversial?”
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“not to mention it’s a screenshot and it’s not even a donation link like…”
it’s a LINK TO AN ARTICLE and it’s still more than TAYLOR has ever posted?? y’all think he was trying to “shade” taylor on her birthday (even if he was, so what? she + her team + her stupid friends have been shading him SINCE APRIL) by bringing to attention her lack of care about palestine or really any issue that doesn’t directly affect her (or her “home state.”). and the fact is, taylor could VERY QUICKLY AND EASILY shut up the critics who say she hasn’t said or done enough regarding palestine, but she won’t. miss americana, the goth punk billionaire, who spent a whole documentary crying about how she wasn’t allowed to speak up on important issues, has suddenly become ALLERGIC to saying anything remotely political or controversial. and at some point you’re gonna have to ask yourself why.
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tibby-art · 6 months ago
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i am straight up on my hands and knees BEGGING for more hitman au
crazy that you mention that actually because i did write another snippet a little while ago.. here’s a doodle i did to accompany it + the writing under the cut
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=+=
Grian gazed out the window of the bus, soaking in the quiet evening of the city. It had been some time since he was out in public like this, since he had felt like a normal citizen going about her daily buisness. It was nice to be outside the NHO headquarters for once, free to do what she pleased. Well, sort of.
Grian wasn’t exactly free. He was allowed some free time out when there was no training, lab visits, or missions. However, she was only allowed outside the NHO with a bodyguard. Someone who could both protect him from the overstimulation of the outside world, as well as protect others from her… if he were to ever lose control of his powers, or something.
Yes, riding the bus with a former-criminal-turned-professional-hitman certainly made the whole experience feel less normal for Grian.
“It’s nice to take public transportation once in a while,” Scar mused, stretching his arms over his head. “Us vexes don’t get to do that much anymore, when we can just fly around wherever we need to go.”
“That must be so much better, though,” Grian pointed out. “You can fly wherever you want, and you don’t even have to pay the bus fare.”
“Let me tell you, Grian, flying can be so tiring,” Scar huffed. “Sometimes I’m so tired by the time we show up to a hit, we need to take a breather on the roof for a few minutes. The NHO should just let us have a car for the long missions, for goodness’ sake!”
Grian did a quick check of his surroundings. The bus was pretty empty this time of day, but she got no sense that any of the passengers were paying attention to Scar so casually talking about being a hitman. A brief tap into watcher vision didn’t show any movement from the passengers behind her, either.
“Cub’s in much better shape than me,” Scar rambled on. “Did you know that man was a professional basketball player once? Or was it golf…? Actually, I think it was both.”
The NHO didn’t deem it too urgent to send both their prized hitmen on Grian-watching duty, so Cub had stayed behind at the headquarters. Last time Grian had seen Cub, he was showing off a ring of keys to Scar, saying how he was going to get a lot of ‘research’ done that night.
“What are those keys for?” Grian asked.
“Don’t know yet,” Cub shrugged. “That’s part of the fun”.
“So… those aren’t your keys?”
Cub and Scar just grinned at her.
“….This is our stop,” Grian said.
The pair exited the bus. The Hermit City library stood before them.
“Library, huh?” Scar asked. “Do you have some overdue books from before you became a watcher or something?”
“Not so loud,” Grian scolded, glancing around a mostly empty city street. “But, no. Speaking of… that, I wanted to see if there were any books I could find on the subject.”
Scar raised an eyebrow. “Do you think a public library would have better information than what we have at the NHO?”
Grian shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”
The library was pretty empty at this time of day. In fact, they probably closed in an hour or so. Grian had deliberately chosen a time of day where less people would be around, so that the trip was less overwhelming on his new senses. Scar had complained that he wasn’t a morning person, so they settled on the evening instead. Grian secretly was also glad she could sleep in a little.
“Geez, when’s the last time I’ve been in one of these?” Scar muttered, glancing at the countless shelves of books as they walked past.
“What, are you allergic to reading?” Grian teased.
“Well, I am dyslexic, so… sort of?”
Grian realized that for a trip to the library to do some research, she probably should have gotten Cub to come. The man literally has two science degrees, after all.
The two made their way to the front desk, where the librarian on duty appeared to be preoccupied… knitting a hand puppet of some kind?
“Well howdy there!” The librarian looked up from his work cheerfully. He had long, brown hair that was dyed neon green at the tips, matching perfectly with her pointed green glasses. “What can I help y’all with?”
“Uh, yes, um.” Grian tapped his fingers on the desk. “We were wondering if you had any books on Watchers, and where they might be?”
“Watchers, huh…” The librarian furrowed their brow. “Now that’s an obscure topic.” He swiveled his chair towards his computer to investigate further. Grian began to grow anxious with how obvious he felt they were being.
“I know, right?” Scar sighed, leaning on the desk casually. “It’s for some lame group project that’s like, a fourth of our final grade in the class.”
“Yikes! That sounds rough,” The librarian remarked as she typed on the computer. Grian tapped into his sixth sense and didn’t pick up on any feelings of suspicion from the librarian. Maybe bringing Scar was a good idea.
“Okay, well, most of these books that are coming up seem to be more on the… fantasy side,” The librarian explained after a moment of scrolling. “I know those guys are mythological beings, but you said you’re doing a research project, so I’m guessing you want something more factual…”
“Yeah, anything with information about where they came from, what they do, stuff like that.” Grian nodded. “Y’know, like if they were real.”
“Oh! Here’s something promising.” The librarian turned the monitor so that Grian and Scar could see. “This book right here seems to be a study of the tales of Watchers throughout history. Although… it looks like our only copy is checked out at the moment.”
“Really?” Grian asked. “By who?”
The librarian blinked. “Hm… y’know, I’m actually not sure if I’m supposed to like, give that information to people? Like, legally?”
“There’s another person in our group project, so we just want to know if they beat us to checking out this book,” Scar lied. “Communication in group projects, am I right?”
“Pff, yeah, that makes sense,” The librarian turned the computer back to face him. “It looks like this book is currently being borrowed by a Martyn. With a y! How fancy.”
“Ah, Martyn with a y, of course!” Scar exclaimed. “Well, now we know that Martyn has the book, right Grian?”
“Yup,” Grian agreed, mind racing.
“Hey, actually…” The librarian scrolled down on the computer some more. “You guys sure got the right person for this project. It looks like this Martyn fella has been checking this book out for a few months now?”
Grian’s eyes widened.
“Ohh, that Martyn,” Scar laughed. “Always getting the head start on things! Uh, did we need anything else, Grian?”
“Um…” Grian needed to think fast. Whoever this Martyn person was, he’s been checking the same book on Watchers out for months. Surely he has to know something about them. Grian had to speak to him. But how on earth were they going to find this person?
Grian focused on the back of the librarian’s computer monitor. For a brief moment, in her mind’s eye, he could see the content of computer screen, from the librarian’s eyes. There on the screen was a full name: Martyn Littlewood.
“Nope, that’s all,” Grian replied, blinking rapidly as he returned to his own vision.
“Great. Well, you two have a good one!” The librarian said cheerfully, and returned to their knitting.
Grian and Scar briskly made their way outside.
“Wow. So who’s this Martyn guy? I didn’t think anyone else cared about Watchers that much,” Scar began, turning to Grian. “Oh uh, Grian, you’ve got something there…” Scar pointed to his own nose, looking worried all of a sudden.
“Huh?” Grian wiped his nose on his sleeve instinctively, expecting snot. However, when he glanced at his arm he saw red.
“Ah.” At least her sweater was already red.
“What did you do in there?” Scar asked, his green eyes intense with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“I was able to get a better look at that computer, and see the guy’s last name,” Grian explained. “Martyn Littlewood. Whoever he is, he might have a ton of information about Watchers. I’ve got to find him and have a word with him.”
“Grian, you’re amazing!” Scar exclaimed, impressed. “Well, finding someone in this city should be easy enough for a Watcher.”
“Shush,” Grian glanced around the empty bus stop. “Or we could try, y’know, looking the name up online first…” Grian quickly pulled out her phone. “Ah. Found him.”
“What? You’re kidding.”
“Oh my god, Scar.”
“What?”
“Scar.” Grian held the phone out. “Martyn Littlewood is…”
“A youtuber?” Scar’s jaw dropped as he scrolled through the list of videos. “And he makes videos talking about-“
“Watchers.”
Scar stared at Grian, dumbfounded.
“Scar, I think we just found the world’s biggest, and perhaps only, Watcher fanatic,” Grian stated in disbelief. “And he lives right here in Hermit City.”
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