#that kind of makes the situation worse for everyone

[nyheartbreak]

sammy bryant and the overworked, underpaid, absolutely miserable state defence attorney that the scumbags he arrests get. most of the time cops don't really respect these lawyers too much, and at first he does have his reservations. especially when you show up with a bit of an attitude, clearly having a shitty day and tired from dealing with worse cops than him. but sammy knows that you don't get to choose your cases, that you just get assigned to them. and he feels so bad everytime you arrive at the station with a cup of burnt coffee in your hands and anxiety written all over your face.

despite it all, you have always been so cordial with him. you always call him detective bryant and you kinda avoid his eyes when you say im alright, thank you while you guys wait in the station hallways before an interrogation and sammy can't help but ask you okay? to fill the silence. which makes you always seem a little bit too shy around him. though you seem shy around everyone and he wonders if this is the right job for you at all. he does makes you smile once, though, and it makes him so giddy he takes it as his win for the month.

but he finds himself thinking of you more than he wants to admit. finds himself doing so in situations where he shouldn't be thinking of you at all. when he gets to work. when he arrests someone and wonders if they are going to send you to defend them. when he kisses his wife. when he jacks off and lies to himself that he did it thinking of his tammy. feels guilty after, of course, disgusting even. can’t look you in the eye for a few weeks.

but the more he looks at you, the more he finds the comments from his partners more and more obnoxiously annoying. the way the talk about you. how they say that they would fuck you either way, even if you defend criminals, eyebags and all. it makes his blood boil. and its not like you are one of those assholes on call they sometimes get. cocky and confrontational. you are nothing like that, at least not with him. you are just doing your job, right? like he is doing his job.

and then, this really nasty motherfucker tries to put his hands on you on a private attorney client visit and he fucking looses it. nate has to literally drag him off so he doesn’t kill him and ends up on the other side of the questioning table. his fists hurt for days after but he doesn't regret a thing, in fact, he would do it all over again.

he finds you in this bar one night, a few days after the incident. the one he always go to when things get a bit rough and he needs to get his limbs loose at least for a couple of hours before he goes back to his wife. you are sitting at this booth alone, and he finds you placing the two or three bottles of beer you had neatly against the wall. you are just entering on tipsy and you joke that you have some kind of undiagnosed ocd and he finds that you are really awkward and bad at making conversation but it just makes him like you even more.

you drink together. barely talk. stare at each other when you think the other isn't looking. and then, a couple of beers in, when he is not really thinking about anything substantial— thankfully, he really needs those moments— but rather letting himself enjoy the feeling of it. of the company. you say it. thank you, for what you did. and sammy quickly has to think of something gross to keep his dick tamed inside his pants.

he decides to be a bit of an asshole then. fights you just the right amount to get you all defensive, hot and bothered. and you fall for it. you think I like this job? you think i like sitting next to those assholes in court? that i like spending all day listening to their sorry stories? i have my own sorry story too, you know? and then you finish with, after a pause, we both chose shitty jobs I guess.

you just need someone to take good care of you, he answers. a little bit too drunk. a little bit too bold. in that condescending voice cops sometimes have to use. you choke on your drink but don't say anything. the heat on your cheeks too damming. and he jots another win down.

and of course he takes you home that night. you live in this shitty apartment which you say you won't invite him to because it's totally embarrassing and you both linger at goodbye. hidden in the darkness of the empty street of this not-so-nice part of town. and again, you are a bit too drunk and he is a bit too tipsy and it's only natural he ends up kissing you against his car, your back flat against the curve of the door until you put a hand on his chest and gently push him off. not because you don't want to but because this is definitely a bad bad idea.

he still ends up in your bed, though. clothes tossed caressly around your room like it doesn't really matter. like this doesn't mean anything at all. he still ends up fucking you hard against the mattress, both too fucking wasted to have a civilized thought about what you are doing. he keeps whispering in your ear as he thrusts from behind let me take care of you. let me take real good care of you. and you let him. both your lives are falling apart at the seams, so you sure let's sammy bryant take real good care of you.

[lunarriviera]

so here's what i can't stop thinking about tonight [spoilers for jitd ep 15, and mo du too, probably], bc somehow my brain is still snagged on scenes from a whole week ago. ofc we all flipped our shit, and rightly so, about how insane they were for this, inserting an entire afterlife sequence that takes up fully a third of the episode just to demonstrate that in fact gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day—all instead of having luo wenzhou say one single incriminating line ("he's my lover") and then hork into a garbage can.

but i'm stuck somewhere else tonight, and it's on: "i'm so tired."

fei du doesn't even need to say it. look at his face, these are the lineaments of someone exhausted to paper thinness. but what i keep putting together and taking apart in my head, though, is precisely why he's so tired. and somehow that just makes it so much worse.

because as lwz will say to him later, in one of the extras, he was never worried about whether fei du could outsmart anyone he wanted to. we already know he's stunningly intelligent, we've seen him thinking dozens of moves ahead of everyone else, constantly, from the time he was a child. that's actually not the exhausting part. it's not even his master plan, his long con, the entire-life-as-undercover-operation that's taking a toll on him—or not that, per se; not that qua that. think of the scene in episode 14 when he and luo wenzhou are interrogating zhou huaijin, and fei du tells him: dong xiaoqing may be a killer, but she was just the weapon—don't you want to know who was holding the knife? fei du's whole life purpose has been bent towards uncovering the people with the knife in their hands.

so if it's not his brilliance that's being taxed, or his capacity for plans that stretch over a lifetime, what precisely has made him so tired?

my answer varies, but tonight i think it's two different things, and the first of them is this one: he's unbelievably lonely.

[major spoilers from this point.] even during the long years when fei chengyu tortured him and his mother, she was still there. she was at least allowed to read to him every night (although even that was carefully circumscribed, and she spent most of the time trying to inculcate him with furtive ethical messaging, so he wouldn't be lost). he is able to remember her nursing him when he was ill, but remotely, coldly, as if anything caring or gentle, even eye contact or unnecessary touch, might be punished (and probably would have been). still, he had her. they were together; he wasn't alone in hell.

even after her death, of course, there was tao ran, and it's completely understandable that young fei du would have adhered to him, as thoughtful and sweet-tempered and normal as tao ran is. where lwz can be sharp-tongued and brusque, tao ran is always pouring oil on troubled waters, adding tact and kindness to a situation. in the novel, lwz tells teenaged fei du bluntly, during an outing, "you shouldn't be here, you don't fit in," and fei du smiles: "he didn't want to fit in."

i think when you're a teenager, you can probably tell yourself that, and almost believe it, especially when you've been violently trained the way he was: told repeatedly that you're antisocial, you don't need human connection, you don't crave it, you don't even want it—that kind of sentimental idiocy is for stupid people, people beneath you.

fei du not only internalized that belief, but he's had to behave as though it were true. to play the edgelord playboy with icy purity and, most of all, complete success—since partial success is failure, in this case—no one can get to know you well enough to know what you're really up to. he might have enjoyed some parts of the game; he's to a degree risk-taking, thrill-seeking by nature (as well as, again, by brutal psychological experimental conditioning). the motorcycle/car racing, the epic performative partying, the dissipated indifference, clawing his way to the top of his father's corporation—as the novel says "a beast in human clothing," the "domineering director-general"? sure, some of it might have been fun, or at least distracting. being superb at anything is its own keen pleasure, if you're smart enough.

but later luo wenzhou will have observed fei du from close-up enough to realize that it's all a disguise. and it's one that costs him dearly.

and that's the other thing that's worn him out, i think. first there's the loneliness of carrying it by yourself, having not one other person in the world to know your heavy secrets, the weight of your isolation, because telling anyone the truth would risk dragging them down with you; but there's also the fatigue from just having to keep it up, day after day, getting up every morning and pinning a manipulative disguise onto your face. if parts of the charade were ever stimulating, or even thrilling, that patina of charm has worn off. he just wants a warm bowl of congee and to go to bed on time, like a person, now.

because since fei chengyu's accident, fei du has spent most of his adult life around normal, non-sinister human beings. he thinks he can just mimic their behavior; he doesn't realize he's actually chosen to adopt it as his own. i'm so sorry to tell you this, feishir, but in many ways your genius plan to successfully impersonate a monster has, in fact, failed. you're actually just a regular young adult. you're too kind to strangers. you're far too careful and considerate with grief-stricken old ladies and frightened children—you're even about to pet your cat, and remember what it means to stroke a small warm animal with no purpose other than affection, only wanting it to feel safety and pleasure (and feeling those yourself, in return). abject failure to become an amoral soulless ghoul, president fei; your satanic dad really blew it (which is ofc fei du's other purpose in life: to prove fcy wrong, though he goes about it in the most agonizing way possible).

and then, worst of all, fei du started flirting with luo wenzhou, which probably started as something amusing to do while waiting around for tao ran; but it's become oddly addictive, needling lwz while feeling increasingly curious about how he'll respond. and then—gradually, slowly, as in "slowly the ice age ended"—luo wenzhou, too, has become a trusted, reliable source of safety and pleasure, and rare human connection. fei du, in fact, has started to like him.

but liking him is, he also knows, incredibly dangerous. he thinks he can't have that, not any of it, at this point. if lwz finds out even one of his horrific secrets, and then gets involved, it could all be ruined.

so fei du is alone, and he really doesn't like his job anymore. but he can't quit, and he can't let anyone else into the aloneness. of course he's tired. anyone would be tired, even ruthlessly self-controlled geniuses who tell themselves constantly how sinister they are.

and that's probably a third thing that's worn him down: the unending effort of continually repeating to himself that he's inhuman, he's made wrong, he's broken. fei du doesn't realize this habitual attempt at reinforcing fei chengyu's training has never made it any more true, but what is happening is that it's ineluctably starting to fray him, shred him at the edges. keeping attachment at bay, holding back from your own natural instincts to be close to others, to share your confidences with them, to know and be known? pretending not only that you don't like anyone, but that you aren't even capable of liking?

the cultural critic joyce carol oates wrote once, in an essay on the poet sylvia plath, of this kind of self-hatred: "in art, it can lead to silence; in life, to suicide." and that's precisely what we see fei du choosing here, to be honest (and we can talk some other time about the ways in which fei du's ma has turned sinister in his unconscious: a death-bringer in white, sitting on her funeral bier, inviting him to give up on the arduousness and self-loathing and loneliness of his life).

in the novel luo wenzhou tells tao ran in the emergency waiting room: “when other people get brought in there, they have someone waiting outside. if he doesn’t have anyone, i’m afraid he’ll be broken-hearted and won’t be willing to come back.” tao ran can't believe he's hearing lwz, of all people, say this about fei du, of all people—but in the drama, this is made literal: lwz turns out to be right. if it weren't for his being there, urgently wanting fei du alive and around to give him problems and cause him trouble, wanting him healthy and condescending and annoying, making sarcastic remarks and smiling his irritating peach-blossom smile and just generally being a royal pain in luo wenzhou's ass—if it weren't for luo wenzhou's need for him having become so suddenly, unexpectedly overwhelming that it's literally palpable, fei du's tiredness would have won out.

fortunately, as it is, he's going home now, where he can actually rest in reality, not just in the afterlife. the secrets are coming out, one by one. he won't be alone anymore, and he won't have to keep up the role of lead villain, slain by his own hand at the end of the play. and, if or when he forgets and falls back into old habits, luo wenzhou will be there to fuss at him and whack him on the back of the head, force-feed him vegetables, blow-dry his hair, make him wear long underwear, handcuff him to the bed to sleep, provide him with new parents and a pair of cats—and above all, love him so consistently and so fiercely that there's no room anymore for anything but simple contentment, and sanity, and quiet peace.

[magiturge]

I'm sure you've been asked this before, but I'd like to hear all your favorite things about Sheriff.

i haven’t been asked this before, at least to my memory..

there’s a lot of things that i like about sheriff, but i’d say my favorite things..

sheriff serves as a very interesting case of somebody forced to go with the flow against his nature. he’s a “coward” in the eyes of nevadeans, in the eyes of us when we put him against everything normalized in nevada / madness combat.

everybody is accustomed to the violence, to the corruption and the rarity that is justice and kindness. things that are humane.

he has self preservation compared to many nevadeans that bluster around, throw themselves at a threat that easily tore down somebody just like them in a few seconds.

he runs because he wants to live, he does what he can to prolong living because what lays in death is worse here. he isn’t above dirty tactics to survive. that is one of my favorite things about him, he is.. arguably the most human or sane humane nevadean in a crazy out of control situation, keeping it together the best he can. i’m omitting the arena mode cast here as the one suffering from the insane situation is the arena player themself while the others of the cast are implied to move on with their lives after they initially disappeared.

he was living a normal life under everything and then it was gone.

-

the next thing that’s my favorite, is how sheriff’s cowardice is what makes jeb’s plan work. it had to be sheriff to move things forward because he’s scared.

i still dislike jeb in the sense of MAN you are an asshole, but the way sheriff fit into the plan like a cog in the machine is so beautiful even though infuriating.

how do i put it.. imagine recieving an email from a high ranking scientist, not the highest but still, speaking vaguely and ominously about the end being near, that people he cares for will die and he needs your help, under the gaze of the dictator of the city you find shelter in where secrecy needs to be kept, where further messages must be sent to someone else to not be found out.

would you not be horrified?

everything, everything, it’s because sheriff is a coward who wants to live, who is not truly a fighter that follows along. because what if he does ignore it, what if that person’s telling the truth.

sheriff fits into the plan so perfectly because he is SCARED of jeb. there are back and forths emails in the water / chasm levels between jeb and crackpot to the foreman about who to listen to. getting sheriff who is scared of him but unfortunately trusts him to lead merc gets that leverage over merc. he has a wavering hand over merc because of sheriff.

because sheriff is a coward, that’s why he works. it had to be him. don’t get me started on the emotional turmoil i can rought from this and the hate i write sheriff with being redirected onto hank.

crinkly old fool.. holding a grudge for that long just to puff out your chest and FOLD.

he’s just a guy trying to keep it together. i don’t think sheriff ever wanted to be part of this, i don’t think there’s a day that goes by that he doesn’t feel guilty about being complicit in the city’s fall. and he just has to keep going along with it because of jeb.

he’s not some, dissonance wielding caught up in a complex scientist or a dissonance overrun clown or even has a buddy in the way that tactition and demolisionist do. he has nothing but himself to emotionally rely on and push forward as the days never seem to draw near.

anyway.. other favorite things would be his just overall oddness, why did he take off his armor at the end when fighting sanford and deimos huh.. why’d he do that, is he stupid.

when asked how sheriff got the job and krinkels answers “everyone looked up to him. he’s an unqualified but popular and likeable guy” do you know how big a backflip i did..

he’s cute, he’s silly.. he’s trying. he’s a wimp but amicable. im looking at you like a horse right now. i dont think its really possible for me to say everything that i favor about him without sounding off.

im omitting a lot of visual / physical headcanon or design things, so my train of thought with actual content can be followed

[sturniolo04]

can you make a fic where chris and reader are making out and her braces cut his lip, then later on nick and matt ask what happened to his lip and he says braces and they realize what happened and it’s a funny moment t

A/n:  ofc!! I absolutely love these requests I have coming in, you guys are amazing!! I hope you love it! And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

dividers: @issysh3ll

Your biggest fear you thought with your braces was simply the fact that people might not like you with them on like they would make your appearance worse and not better. You were already a pretty nice looking girl. You were definitely Chris' type so it was inevitable he was going to ask you out. So here you two are have been dating for 5 months and you two also spent every waking minute together really making out mostly.

You not sure how it happened all you knew was this was new fear you unlocked within this moment.

You were currently in your favorite spot which was on top of chris straddling him as you two were fixated on the heated makeout that sparked between you two in the moment. Chris' hands firmly gripping your hips to rock against his hips creating the friction his body was aching for.

You two must have gotten too into it you didn't realize you braces got caught on his lip completely cutting him.

"ow shit"

chris groans out pulling his head away from you breaking the makeout you two were having causing you to look at him confused.

"what what happened"

you ask not seeing that you had cut his lip because he was covering it with his hand.

"oh no im so sorry chris"

you gasp out covering your mouth feeling bad once you finally realized the cut left on his lip.

"is it bad"

chris asks you reaching for his phone to look at it in his camera app. Chris really didn't show any sign of pain but you still felt incredible bad.

"i mean no but thats going to take a minute to heal"

you sigh out as chris chuckles at how bad you felt about it.

"thats okay youre okay im okay"

chris reassures you chuckling rubbing soft circles on your hips.

"dude what the fuck happened to your lip"

matt chuckling noticing it first as chris came over and sat at the kitchen table across from them.

"oh my gosh"

nick gasps out finally noticing it.

"its nothing just a little accident involving someones braces"

chris chuckles out giving slight side eye as you were standing in the kitchen looking defeated with your blue stanley cup in your hands. Matt and Nick immediately start laughing.

"stopp i feel bad enough already"

you whine out truly feeling that way about the whole situation.

"its fine baby i told you"

chris replies back to you reassuring you once again.

"its kind of funny if you think about it"

matt chuckles out as you roll your eyes as everyone laughs about it.

Taglist🗂️

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @ksturnz @chaoswithus @emely9274 @ivysturnss @sturniolo-szn2 @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13 @chrepsi @lyingonchris

@tezzzzzzzz @babytomatoes21 @sturniolosymphony @zenithsturniolo @bernardsbendystraws @sturnioloslut101

[theramblingvoid]

I'll be honest I never really gave Tim a second thought on my first listen through, but on a relisten I've realized that yeah actually that's me. That would be me. I too would get really frustrated and angry and make a million bad sarcastic jokes if I was trapped in The Office That Makes You Die Badly and could do nothing but wait around to die badly in the office. And also still had to fill out timesheets. I mayhaps would also lose my composure just a little actually.

[victorygrasped]

Tell me, then, how to share a heart that must ache

Because I feel like it, shares a ficlet I wrote some time ago for my beloved friend for our beautiful AU that we've been ill about for the past months, wherein Ramattra and Hanzo meet at some point after Ramattra leaves the Shambali, but before the formation of Null sector, and the two travel the world together for some time before parting ways due to circumstance

pairings: Left vague, but implications of Ramyatta and Ramzo, with a focus on Hanzo from Ramattra's perspective word count: 1517

A conversation between Ramattra and Zenyatta, taking some time after Null Sector's Invasion, regarding the situation between himself and Hanzo.

The question arrived on the dawn of the spring's equinox. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Zenyatta had chosen the day on purpose. As much as Zenyatta was averse to metaphors, Ramattra knew intimately that the omnic happily indulged in his fair share of poetics. Especially when it was to make a point.

“He is important to you.”

It was said as an observation, not a question. Neither of them required clarification to who the 'him' in question was, and yet Zenyatta deigned to provide one anyway, as silence lingered for moment too long.

“Genji’s brother, Hanzo Shimada.”

“He—”

He doesn’t enjoy that. Shimada.

Ramattra stopped the words from falling out, fingers twitching from where they rested in meditative pose at his need for correction. He hesitated and, briefly, he considered lying. Avoid the topic for fear of what it could entail, return them instead to the idyllic nothings they had been exchanging mere moments ago before the lull in their conversation had given Zenyatta his opening.

He could, the temptation fleeting, yet he knew he wouldn’t. It had only been a matter of time, and he was not fool enough to believe he could hide his heart from Zenyatta. The world? Unquestionably. But not Zenyatta. Never Zenyatta.

Letting out a quiet, resigned, sigh, Ramattra gave the answer they both already knew.

“Yes,” his voice quiet, tinted with static. A confession, “I suppose he is.”

He paused, a moment of contemplation. Part of him felt… uncertain. His trust in Zenyatta ran deep, he knew there was no reason for him to feel so tense. Perhaps it was only natural, It would be the first time he’d been asked such a thing so directly. 

Even between Hanzo and himself, it had all simply... happened. They had never truly discussed the nature of their situation. There had been no need to, when their eyes had been on each other and the horizon before them, ignorant to how each step brought them closer towards cliff's edge.

It was unfamiliar, trying to say with words that which they had only ever said with actions.

“Genji has told me much about Hanzo. Your paths have a number of similarities,” Zenyatta eventually continued as silence stretched, gentle as he could be with his words. An effort Ramattra was grateful for, as much as it sickened him with shame, “And yet... I would not have expected it. Especially considering his attempt on your life.”

That caught his attention. Ramattra's head snapped up away from his hands to meet Zenyatta's gaze.

“How—”

He bit down his words and the tremor of bitterness threatening to encroach into the conversation, if it had been Zenyatta's… student, who told him of such detail. As much as he wished to avoid questioning, the day had been pleasant. He did not wish to ruin it further when he had already ruined so much when it came to Zenyatta.

Ultimately, however the other knew of that particularity held no real importance, and if the need rose, there would be time for to ask later. Letting out a small huff and forcing away the tension that'd spiked within him, Ramattra averted his optics once more, mind turning towards the past instead.

“Make no mistake, it'd hardly been in my expectations, either,” he allowed his tone to go wry, faint trace of amusement finding its way into his words, “It hadn’t occurred to me that it could even be a possibility until long after it had already happened.”

Perhaps that was exactly it had happened. It was such a ludicrous idea, for him to have grown... for him to have found companionship in the human, that Ramattra hadn't been unable to to defend himself from it, the lack of foresight voiding any chance for preparation.

“In hindsight, the transition from him being merely some human, to…” his voice softened without his awareness, laced with unspoken thoughts he himself would fail to understand, “Hanzo, was so unremarkably mundane, it took some time for the significance of it to process.”

More accurately, he had not allowed himself to process it, as if avoiding its mention, avoiding pointing out each time where Hanzo took a step closer and each time where Ramattra had allowed him, would have preserved the peace they'd somehow carved out in an unforgiving world.

It wouldn't have been until much later, as he attempted to rip each trace of it out his chest, did he allow himself to realize how fool he had been.

He had been a fool, yet he knew it could have very well been worse had he dared to bring light it. Like this, they could at least pretend to others it had never happened. Like this, the world could remain ignorant. Like this, Hanzo could be safe.

“You... speak of him with familiarity,” there was hesitation in Zenyatta's words and posture, uncharacteristically uncertain.

Ramattra could hardly blame him. After all, how could Zenyatta know? Zenyatta, who had been there to witness his love for humanity be chewed up, spat out, and stepped on, time after time? Zenyatta, who had been his resentment grow with each day, the only one there who held his hands as they shook from ill contained fury and discord, terrified he might snap within Monastery walls? 

The very notion of Ramattra having possibly found connection with a human... Zenyatta was neither shallow nor a fool, but it was only natural for him to have been surprised at such notion. He knew plenty well just how stubborn Ramattra could be.

And yet, Hanzo... it had all occurred long after Ramattra had left the monastery, unable to bare another day within its walls at the knowledge of his people suffering at human hands. It had all occurred long before he had waged a war, liberation, against humans in desperation to save his people.

All that had happened in between... all that could have been... all that had been...

At the end of the day, it meant nothing. Their paths diverged, as his and Zenyatta's had. It was pointless to ruminate on the past, the thought clawing into his chest in painful insistence.

It mattered not, how guilt and regret may threaten to drown him, so long as they didn't. He had left Zenyatta. He had left Hanzo. Left behind those days where he could have pretended to be something other than what he was in reality, because he could no longer stand to indulge himself as his people relentlessly suffered around him.

It didn't matter how good of a thing it had been. It didn't matter how much he might have missed them. It didn't matter that it had nearly shattered him to be on the other side of the battlefield from them.

It didn't matter how often he had to break his own heart if it was a means to an end. His duty, his fury, his love gave him the strength to continue forwards and that was enough. Ramattra was secondary to his people, those he loved and grieved. It was a truth he could never change.

“You speak of him with familiarity,” Zenyatta repeated, tone quiet, questioning, drawing Ramattra out from his spiraling thoughts, “As he speaks with of you.” 

The thought of Hanzo still caring, for all of the evidence he'd been provided, continued to twist an arrow deep within Ramattra's systems. What could he possibly say to that? He was at a lost for words, something that had begun to grow disconcertingly common.

How could he possibly explain it all to Zenyatta?

That Hanzo had been the only human to meet his gaze without disgust or range and not flinch away, that Ramattra had only ever seen such boldness from Zenyatta before?

That Hanzo's trust had been intoxicating to have, that every time the archer had fallen asleep resting against his chassis, it had burned and left him wanting?

That he had been happy? That through Hanzo's eyes, Ramattra had almost begun to remember why he, for all of its cruelty, had once loved the world he'd been Awakened in? 

That he could have... that they could have...

“We spent some time traveling together,” Ramattra said briefly instead, unable to look at Zenyatta directly, unsure of what the omnic might be reading from his body. 

There would be a day where he could dare to say such foolishness aloud without evisceration. Until then, he knew Zenyatta’s patience, and for once, Ramattra begged for it. Just once, a promise, as broken all his promises had begun to sound. Just this once, and next time, he would be brave.

“I suppose it is only natural for the two of us to learn some things about each other along the way, before…” a falter in his words, a crack in his attempt for nonchalance, “...Before.”

“...What happened?” Zenyatta's tone quiet, as if he did not already know the reason. As if the very same had not happened to him, all those years ago.

Still, Ramattra would humor him with the answer. In this, at least, he required no hesitation.

“I did.”

[ask-elland-n-will]

[OOC rant about HL rp space here on tumblr: Wanted to mention this for a while but engagement requires... engagement. The more rp blogs exchange asks, the more pathways there are to communicate, to create a net of connections, make characters and the world around them come to life. Over the past year and a half I sent hundreds of asks, in anon/as me/as my characters. I understand being shy. I've been there, and it took some great people in this community to get me out of my shell.

But it is just what it is: unfortunately, if there is no reciprocity, there is no dialogue.

You don't have to wait for a green light/talk in DMs first with creating an rp scenario to send anyone an ask or to initiate rp by tagging someone. You can if it makes you more comfortable but don't have to. Most of us have Rules of Engagement but that's all the pre-requisites.

Before I burned out, I sent people asks just to make them happy, give some interactions for their characters. I wanted to find out more about MCs/OCs. But at this point (and I am not alone in this) whenever this turns into a one-sided communication, I am bothered by it, and I stop sending asks after a while.

I get that if I do it with anons, people won't know who to reply to. But even starting small, sending an ask or two for at least some rp people, so that we know you want to engage — it means a lot. It makes us want to continue playing in this HL sandbox.]

[katyspersonal]

Posting about it like 18 hours late after waking up, but I also had such a strange dream tonight?

In it two of my enemies that worked together against me in reality actually became enemies to one another, and for what reason they did..... One of them crafted some very intricate plan to trick me into thinking I'd get full help for my countless mental troubles, including financial, if I only signed certain papers I got, and the other one disrupted her plan by simply telling me to "trust no one" over a balcony of their.... "house"? Dreams that turn the online into "reality" make little sense but I feel like most people here have them sometimes so you get it probably?

Ironically, I trusted them, and seeing how I clearly was welcomed all of a sudden, went to their place wanting elaboration. (Their house looked exactly like if their blog became a house and it was hysterical) Turned out the other one's plan was to actually not only take all money meant to support my sorry existence away from me forever, but also keep me unemployable since legally I was "helped" or mad shit like that (basically slow, hungry death). And this person turned against their long term "ally" in MY favor because, I quote, "genocide of disabled people is not a joke" gfhtjgugjj We even continued talking a lot about world and people and all other things the other one tried, all while avoiding to as much as address our own grudge.

I really don't know why I'd have a dream like this, it felt so random? It doesn't feel like wishful thinking either. 😕 But it better not be a sign that I've misdiagnosed which one of those two became more malicious in the end, or so help me

[getosugurusbangs]

i wonder just how many times i’ve seemed really annoying just for it to be me having adhd

[theramblingvoid]

I'll be honest I never really gave Tim a second thought on my first listen through, but on a relisten I've realized that yeah actually that's me. That would be me. I too would get really frustrated and angry and make a million bad sarcastic jokes if I was trapped in The Office That Makes You Die Badly and could do nothing but wait around to die badly in the office. And also still had to fill out timesheets. I mayhaps would also lose my composure just a little actually.

[ourceliumnetwork]

it is not slacking off to write or create it is not slacking off to do things that are fun i am not slacking off or procrastinating right now i'm allowed to do things i enjoy doing for fun including playing games and writing and such

[paarthursass]

aurel and astarion are like two cats being forced to share the same house. and most of the time they just hiss and spit at each other and occasionally you'll find them trying to beat the shit out of one another. but then also sometimes they sit up on the fridge together and glare at everyone else. before one of them pushes the other off the fridge.

[sol1loqu1st]

catching up on fantasy high junior year and Oh Boy Lads, Riz Is Going To Continue To Hit Close To Home For Several Reasons Huh

[camgoloud]

the unaffordability of one bedroom apartments in my area is something that can be so oppressive to me personally

[kelpiemomma]

I think what frustrates me most about the local vet situation is that most people commenting on it have absolutely 0 nuance. They're either for what he did or completely condemning him. It's so frustrating because the man was a vet out here for like 20 years, and you could talk to five different people and get five different opinions on him. There are so many people martyring him, saying he was a great man and a great vet and he was always perfect to their horses and honest, all because he killed himself. It's the most popular narrative now- he was just misunderstood! But everyone that I have spoken to has said he was an asshole. Maybe a good vet, but an asshole. One person worked for him as a tech. One person said he didn't sedate her horse enough to clean a bean, and when the horse kicked at him instead of going for more sedation he kicked the horse.

Was he perfect? No. But I can tell you one of the reasons he was as popular as he was is because he was the cheaper option. For a time we had three vet choices for horses, then when one got too old to continue working by himself he joined the clinic so we had two, and now we have one and I don't think the valley community realizes just how much that's going to affect people and their horses. People who couldn't afford the clinic aren't going to start being able to afford it now just because they're the only equine vet!

And there are so many people saying 'you can't claim it was abuse off a 30 second clip!' well newsflash, fucko! You also can't claim it was self defense off a 30 second clip! And people who don't know him and have only seen the video are talking about giving him the 'benefit of the doubt' when this man was claiming a fresh off the range mustang colt, not even a year old, was a dangerous man killer.

And it's like- look, okay. I am the owner of a horse who has tried to kill the vet at least twice. She attacked vets starting from a week old when she had surgery, and the worst was when she was two and a half. I was present for it, I know what she did, and the bitch was out for blood. The bitch has been out for blood multiple times, and never once did any of the vets I used - never him - ever pull the shit he pulled on that horse. We always managed to twitch her, with me and someone else, and take care of her. And you know what? At 7 years old, she doesn't like vets, she doesn't like farriers, but she no longer tries to kill them. Should the owner have been there? Yes. But as I said on facebook, people don't believe things happen without physical proof.

So it's just very frustrating like. Yes, we should give people the benefit of the doubt, but it seems the only person these commentators want to give the benefit of the doubt to is the vet in the video. Not the person who took the video and did report him, who wasn't even the person who posted the video to facebook initially. Only the vet. Because he's dead now. So don't you dare criticize him, because he was doing the best he could! Even though he had a long history of animal mistreatment.

In short- what he did was wrong. But the shitstorm that came after, because I know morons went to his DMs telling him to kill himself, I know someone personally who said she'd lynch him, was also wrong. The man deserved to go to trial. He deserved to be investigated by the board. There will be no justice for anyone now, and that's what frustrates me the most. I feel for his family, but they insisted he never did anything wrong. One of those Mormons, you know? But it is what it is.

He did wrong. But he shouldn't have been harassed into taking his life over it. We're short on vets as it is.

[the-m0th-king]

Love that the most recent Invincible was just two episodes in one. It was honestly so good.