#the hypocrisy stinks

[babygirltangerine]

Tangerine is one of the two deuteragonists (along with Lemon) of the 2022 action comedy film Bullet Train, based on Kōtarō Isaka's 2010 dark comedic thriller novel Maria Beetle.

He and his brother Lemon are a famous assassin duo called The Twins. By the time of the film, Tangerine and Lemon are hired by the White Death to escort his son and his briefcase to him on a bullet train.

He was portrayed by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who also played William Rollins in Chatroom, Quicksilver in Avengers: Age of Ultron and Ray Marcus in Nocturnal Animals. As a child, he was portrayed by Miles Marz.

History

In the past, Tangerine and his brother Lemon completed a job in Bolivia and kill an entire camp of guerillas. Unbeknownst to them, the guerillas were men of the White Death, causing him to travel to Bolivia and leave his wife's side. After the wife is murdered in an assassination attempt, the White Death hires Lemon and Tangerine for a mission on a bullet train in the hopes that they are killed by other assassins he hired.

Lemon and Tangerine are first seen on board of the bullet train in a compartment with the White Death's son. They banter for a short while until getting a call from one of the White Death's goons telling them to make sure the briefcase is still in their possession. Lemon tells Tangerine that he safely stashed the briefcase but upon checking the place where it should be, they realise it has been stolen. When they return to their seats the White Death's son has been poisoned and killed by an assassin named The Hornet.

Soon after they arrive at a train station, where goons sent by the White Death are waiting. Tangerine tells them that everything is under control outside, while Lemon puppeteers the son's corpse inside the train. The goons believe them and Tangerine returns inside.

After that the pair comes up with a plan to retrieve the briefcase from the thief. Tangerine finds another assassin called Ladybug on the train. He realizes that Ladybug stole the briefcase and chases him down the train. The chase ends, however, when Ladybug pays another passenger to wear his hat and glasses and uses firecrackers in a train car to distract Tangerine. Upon returning to his original seat, Tangerine finds an unconscious Lemon, who has been knocked out by Ladybug and wakes him up. They both come up with a new plan to catch Ladybug and head off into different directions.

After tracking Lemon's phone that Ladybug stole Tangerine finds his thief hiding inside a toilet. They both get into a fight across the train that ends with Tangerine being about stab Ladybug in the eyes with chopsticks. Their fight is interrupted by another call from one of the White Death's goons. He demands that both Tangerine and Lemon are present in the meeting at the next train station. Ladybug offers to step in for Lemon as they don't know what he looks like and Tangerine accepts. Ladybug wants to get the briefcase for the meeting but realizes it has been stolen by the Prince and Kimura.

They decide to take a fake briefcase and the meeting goes well until Ladybug accidentally opens it and reveals the clothes inside. They escape back to the train and try to come up with back-up plan until Ladybug pushes Tangerine out the train at the next station just as the doors are about to close. Tangerine jumps back onto the train and breaks through a window to get back inside.

Not long after Tangerine finds the unconscious body of Lemon, who he assumes is dead due to the shots in his chest, inflicted by The Prince. He gets a call from the White Death, who announces that he's going to kill everyone on the train to which a depressed Tangerine expressses indifference. He searches the train for the alleged killer and runs into Prince, who attempts to convince him that Ladybug killed Lemon. Tangerine sees through her deception due to finding train stickers that Lemon stuck on her. Before Tangerine can shoot the Prince, Ladybug enters and the Prince pretends that she is an innocent girl that Tangerine is attacking, and Ladybug fights Tangerine to defend her. In their fight, Tangerine accidentally shoots himself in the throat and bleeds to death on the floor. His corpse likely remained in the wagons and was presumably damaged when the bullet train gets wrecked at the end.

Trivia

Unintentionally, Aaron-Taylor Johnson's performance as Tangerine was decisive in his casting as Kraven the Hunter in his upcoming eponymous film, as the Sony Pictures executives quickly cast him in that role due to being "blown away" by early Bullet Train footage of him as Tangerine.

Aaron-Taylor Johnson was cast as Tangerine due to David Leitch's desire to work with him. Leitch had previously offered Johnson a role in Deadpool 2, but he declined the unknown role.

The fruit truck Lemon uses towards the end of the film to run over the Prince is one filled of tangerines. This was evidently done as a reference to Tangerine, symbolizing that even from beyond the grave, he still assisted his brother in carrying out a pivotal assassination.

Tangerine's actor: Aaron Taylor Johnson had starred in the Monsterverse along with Lemon's actor: Brian Tyree Henry.

[askbombasticblake]

The motheryuckers who threw a shit fit over the Diamonds really embody this without irony:

the steven universe hate is insane bc people are (or at least were) more upset that fictional war criminals got fictional hugs than they recognize that it singlehandedly advanced queer rep in children's media by lightyears and then straight up ate heavy retaliation for the nerve.

It does have real flaws that are worth discussing, but it also put their male protagonist in dresses and skirts and played it straight and even empowering, they aired a lesbian wedding on television, it was a genuinely queer, genuinely diverse piece of media through and through. It did a lot of real good for the real world.

But also the fictional characters caused fictional harm to other fictional characters, and didn't get an onscreen firing squad sentence. So, you know, it's basically ontologically evil in real life.

[hansoape]

warhammer dudes will treat the female characters in the nastiest way. Degrade Celestine's and Yvraine's characters to nothing but waifu bait. Talk about what they'd like to do to sororitas with consent optional. Gleefully describe what a daemonculaba is and act like its so cool and edgy. But the minute female fans and queers start to talk about finding a male character attractive NAW that's where they draw the line. How dare we find Titus handsome. Filthy perverts degenerates all of us. Its apparently too much for them and they get really, really mad about it. Stay pissy you gross ass weirdos, your hypocrisy stinks through the walls

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Our Home (Azriel x Reader)

Hiiii. This one has long been in the works. It's the follow-up part to this little one I did called "Why Are You Still Here?"

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Some alcohol use. Angst. Discussions surrounding mental health. Suggestion of infidelity.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were not where you wanted to be. And you did not know where you fit anymore.

Solace had once been the home you’d made your own. It had once been the warmth and security of your mate’s arms. A life. A belonging.

It was never supposed to be dark, dingy taverns and drinking yourself to oblivion. You were aware of your hypocrisy — that you were now no better than Azriel, himself, had been.

But you didn’t know what else to do. How else to keep patching over the wound that was opening you up from the inside.

Three days and nights away from Azriel felt like three centuries. Three days and nights spent on Amren’s couch, your ears barely catching the way she groused at you about making things up with your mate — and getting out of her hair. You knew that she only had your best interests at heart; a swarm of concern wrapped up in sharp, barbed words and orders. 

Stop sulking, girl, and speak to your mate. Wallowing on the couch and taking up my space doesn’t do either of you any good. If he knocks on my door and asks to speak to you again, I’m letting him in this time. Stupid, foolish children in love.

You knew that she was right. You’d asked Az to give you a few days…and for what? So you could get yourself into a clear enough headspace to talk to him.

So, no, the wisest choice had not been to end up in a bar on the other side of town — but here you were. If Azriel could spend months upon months pushing you away, indulging in self-serving vices…so could you.

You whiled away the hours on refills of whiskey and off-kilter music and the presence of numerous males coming up to you and offering to buy you another drink — all of which you politely turned away. You weren’t there for attention, or to feel wanted…the mere thought of looking at somebody other than your mate—

It took you right back to the possibility that Azriel may have done just that. That he’d come stumbling home after hours of unexplained absence, stinking to the high heavens of booze and cloying perfume. You wanted — needed — to believe that there was some other, reasonable explanation. That there was no way the male tied to your soul would fall into the arms of somebody else.

But the truth was that you just did not know anymore. He’d successfully pushed you away enough to fill you with doubt.

The feeling was far worse than any battle wound. Far more excruciating than the critical injury you’d received during the war with Hybern. This pain was like a sickness, spreading through you, slicing at you, becoming you. This pain could tear you apart, limb from limb.

“The same again, please.” You rasped, sliding your empty glass towards the pretty barmaid. She eyed you cautiously before fulfilling your request. The amber liquid didn’t burn quite as much this time. 

But it seemed that no amount of alcohol was giving you the desired effect. Drink after drink after drink, and you still didn’t feel it seeping into your bones and blood and carrying you off to a place that wasn’t as painful. You may as well have been pouring the drinks straight onto the floor, rather than down your throat.

Still, you remained sitting at that same spot at the bar, nursing your drink and studying the nicks and callouses of your weapon-worn hands as your heavy thoughts bombarded you. Where would you sleep tonight? You were sure Amren would growl at you if you turned up at her door again. You could go to the River House, but you didn’t want to cause any disruption or upset for Nyx. And it seemed that both the House of Wind and the Town House were a no-go — that Az could be staying at either. Something told you that he was unlikely to be at the house you shared together, but…you didn’t want to go there, either.

Perhaps you would just drink yourself so stupid that you’d eventually curl up on a bench and fall asleep without feeling the cold.

The cold. It swept in, encasing you from behind as somebody entered the tavern, their heavy footsteps carrying across the wooden floor. You paid them no mind, not interested in the various other punters around you. You hunched over your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass, and you didn’t bother to look up even when the stool was pulled out beside you.

“Before you say anything,” you murmured, too used, now, to the sleazy routine of the males around you, “no, you cannot buy me a drink.” 

“Good.” Azriel’s voice came quietly from beside you. “I don’t think it’d be wise for you to have another.”

That voice — deep and smooth and rich. A voice that had spoken countless I love yous, that had breathed quiet laughs at your shared, inside jokes, that had moaned your name in peace and pleasure. A voice that had always been a comfort to you.

It now twisted your stomach. Filled you with a sickening anxiety. You no longer knew what words would be spoken in that voice. You weren’t sure you were ready for them.

Your body tense, you slowly turned your head to meet your mate’s eyes. The look that sat on his face, in his hazel stare…it was one of beautiful agony. Of stunning, twisted devastation.

A flawless face marred by pain.

Azriel studied you, and you couldn’t help wondering what he saw on your face. Besides your cheeks being flushed from the alcohol, and your eyes red-raw from days of weeping. Whatever he found there…it made him flinch.

“What are you doing here?” You willed your voice to sound strong, but it was weak. Pathetic. 

“I followed your scent from Amren’s apartment to here.” He swallowed. “And given that this was where we had our first drink together…”

You looked around. Pretended that such a thought hadn’t dawned on you, even though that exact spot in the corner was where you and Azriel had sat for hours that first night, drinking and talking and laughing. 

You’d known, by the time that he’d walked you home, that you were going to spend the rest of your existence with him.

Or so you’d thought. You weren’t so sure, now.

“Finish your drink.” Azriel nodded to your glass. “We’re going home.”

You snorted, turning back to your glass. The liquid sloshed as you lifted it to your lips. “That’s not been home for a long while. It’s just…bricks and mortar and pain.”

He paused. “That’s not true.”

“Is it not, Azriel? You can’t seem to stand spending any time there, either—”

“I want to talk to you about all of this, Y/N.” He stared at you seriously. Pleadingly. “Just…not here. Please.”

Because Azriel was a staunchly private person.

And maybe he didn’t love you anymore. The thought — though complete agony — was entirely possible.

But he wouldn’t end your relationship in the same place it had begun. 

So you drained your glass, savouring the feeling of the liquid sliding down your throat. And then you set it down on the bar, and turned to face him.

“Where is your coat?” He studied the thin tunic and breeches that did nothing to keep out the cold.

You shrugged a shoulder. “Left it at Amren’s, I guess.” 

“It’s freezing outside.”

“Oh, now you care—”

The clearing of a throat stopped you both in your tracks. You glanced at the young barmaid who stared between the two of you uncomfortably. She had the same look that most people adopted in Azriel’s presence — awe and fear at their High Lord’s spymaster.

“I’m sorry, but,” she cleared her throat again, straightening out her shoulders, “if you two are going to have a domestic, I’m going to have to ask you to take it outside…”

Beside you, Azriel’s cheeks pinkened. “We’re not.” He said brusquely. “We’re leaving.”

Before you could offer your own response, he was tugging you from the barstool and draping his heavy jacket around your shoulders. It swamped you a ridiculous amount, and when he actually stopped in front of you to fasten the buttons, you scowled and stepped out of reach.

“I’m not a child.” You said. “Let’s just…go.”

It was hard to not feel like a child as you meandered your way to the door in that preposterously large coat, the arms swinging and the material swallowing you up. Azriel remained a step behind, following you out into the icy night air. You walked a few paces in a still silence, only stopping to face him when you were well out of earshot of the bar. 

“So.” It was instinctive — the way you wrapped his jacket around yourself. Not something you were wholly aware of doing. Though you were certainly aware of the way you very pointedly sniffed it, looking for some trace of that sweet scent you’d smelled before. But…nothing. “Which house do you want to finish with me in? Ours? The Town House? The House of Wind? We could go to the River House, but I don’t think Rhys or Feyre would appreciate the performance—-”

“Is that what you think?” Azriel cut you off, the pain on his face moulding into something stiller. Icier. “That I’m finishing our relationship?”

You shrugged. And you hated — utterly hated — being so confrontational. This wasn’t you. And some small part of it could be blamed on the alcohol, yes, but…mostly…mostly, you were just at your wit’s end.

After months of trying to reach him calmly, compassionately. Months and months of trying to talk to him gently, to get him to open up to you. It had gotten you nowhere.

You felt your only option, now, was to shuck off that soft, soothing exterior, and go hard. Go real. 

“I don’t know what to think,” you retorted. “You don’t speak to me anymore — besides the occasional grunt. And given that I’m not a gods-damned mind-reader—”

“I am not finishing things with you.” Azriel snapped — so loud, so harsh, so unlike him, that you stopped in your tracks. “Not now, and not ever.”

You stared at him, already feeling your hard demeanour slipping. The words — though a small relief — were hard to believe. Hard to believe, when he’d given you no indication for a long, long time that he even wanted you anymore.

You shrugged weakly, begging your eyes not to tear up. “But what kind of relationship is this, Az? Months and months of silence. Of coldness. What am I supposed to think?”

“...I’ve handled things so badly. But I’d like a chance to explain.”

Perhaps it was the muted pleading in his eyes, the hunching of his shoulders. How he looked the smallest he ever had. Or perhaps it was just because he was your mate…whatever the reason, you found yourself relenting. You swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest and silently nodding towards a bench that overlooked the river. Az dipped his chin in acknowledgement of the request and promptly followed suit. 

You sat, leaving distance between the two of you. Az tucked his wings in as tight as he possibly could; uncomfortable for him, you knew, but he was respectful of the fact that you wanted space. A small glimmer of the Azriel you’d always known and loved.

He seemed to suck in a slow breath, twisting his scarred hands around each other. You could feel the nerves that rolled off of him in waves. This – speaking and baring his soul — was perhaps harder for him than outright combat. 

You cleared your throat. “Before you start…I need to ask you something.”

Hazel eyes turned to study you. Azriel gave a small nod. 

“I have to know if you…” The words tasted sour and wrong in your mouth. In your whole body, in fact. You were sure a shiver shot through you as you blurted in one breath, “I just need to know if you fucked somebody else.”

Azriel paused — and then blinked at you.

Gaped at you, like the suggestion in and of itself was utterly absurd.

As if he hadn’t come home stinking of perfume. As if he hadn’t lied about his whereabouts when you’d asked. As if you were wrong to so much as think it, let alone voice it.

He shook his head, still blinking. “What?”

“Perhaps you were too drunk that night to remember.” Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You disappeared on me for hours, Az, like you always seem to these days. Then you come home smelling of perfume and lie to me that you’d been with Mor when I knew you couldn’t have been. So tell me. Honestly. Did you fuck someone who isn’t me?”

“Of course I didn’t. I would never do that to you. Do you know how sick it makes me feel, just thinking of being with someone other than you?”

He couldn’t possibly have a clue how much you needed to hear that. But they were just words. He’d done nothing to back them up for so, so long.

Your eyes filled with tears as you stared at him. “But you can’t seem to stand being with me, either.”

His own eyes shuttered — as though he was trying to block out your words. He slumped back on the bench, wings awkward and limp around him. You could see his chest heaving, hear his heavy breathing. 

“I don’t—” His voice cracked. “I’m no good with words. I’m no good with…with talking.”

“But I can’t take the silence or the loneliness anymore. Azriel, please—”

“I was with someone that night.”

He blurted the words in such a rush, you almost didn’t catch them. His hands squeezed into fists at his sides, as though the mere feeling of speaking so earnestly was like peeling his skin off.

You fell so, so still. Stared at him. Your stomach plummeted, twisted, and your voice didn’t sound like yours as you croaked out, “who?” 

“That night, I…I was with Madja.”

It was all you could do to stare at him. And as Madja’s face floated through your mind — the old, withered, beloved healer of Velaris…you could do nothing but stare. 

“Is that supposed to be funny?” You demanded.

Az stared down at his hands. “Of course not. A little while ago, I started regularly visiting Madja.”

“...Why? Are you injured?” Your eyes immediately searched him for anything you might have missed. And yet — nothing. 

He shook his head. “Physically, I’m fine, but…in here?” He tapped a finger to his forehead. Moved that finger down to sit over his heart. “And here? I’m…I’m not. I’m not fine.”

Those cold, hard walls you’d thrown up to get you through this conversation…you felt them falter a little. You swallowed, studying your mate. “I don’t understand, Az…”

Finally — finally — he angled his body towards yours. Faced you. And the raw emotion that lay in his eyes…you almost couldn’t bear it. It could cut you. Cut you into pieces and scatter you to the wind. 

Tears were clouding his vision, muddying that hazel into a watery run of colour. He blinked, his lips quivering as those tears spilled over and ran down his cheeks. It was second nature for you to reach out and wipe them away, but he stopped you in your tracks. Allowed his tears to run free as he held onto your hand like he may never get another chance. 

“When I try to sleep at night,” his voice cracked. “When I close my eyes — do you know what I see?”

You swallowed down your own emotion, shaking your head. You’d known of him sleeping fitfully, of course — if he bothered to sleep in the same bed as you at all. But you’d never been overly aware of it.

He blinked another wave of tears away. “I see you in that healer’s tent after the war, covered in blood. I hear—” He cut himself off, voice once again hitching with his emotion. “I hear your screams of pain. Your cries. I hear you begging someone — anyone — to make it go away. I see your face turning far too pale. And I hear, over and over and over again, the moment that Madja told me there was a chance you wouldn’t make it.”

You were unable to stop your own tears forming again. You squeezed his hand, face creasing with pain. “Azriel—”

“It haunts me.” He whispered. “Because what you and I have…I never thought I’d have this. I never thought I’d find my mate. I never thought I’d be able to have such happiness. So when Madja told me there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to save you…I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t know how I was going to go on.”

“But she did save me, Az.” You scooted closer. “She did.”

“I just…I came so close to losing you. To losing the love of my life. It sent me spiralling into this mindset of being scared all the damn time. Every time you left the house, or I had to go on a mission…I was losing my mind with it, Y/N. And I was so terrified of ever feeling that way again that it seemed so much easier to push you away. I was too selfish to let you go completely. I thought if I could just…have you at arm’s length…at least until I sorted myself out…” 

You stared forward. Everything seemed to click into place as you rasped, “which was why you distanced yourself from me.”

Az nodded. And he was unable to stop the sob that broke from him. “But I just ended up hurting you. And I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t bear a second longer of it — of seeing him so crushed, so defeated. And even though you, too, were a crying mess, you found the strength to slide into his lap. To wrap your arms around him and allow him to rest his head on your shoulder.

“You should have just told me how you were feeling.” You whispered, stroking his hair. His body heaved beneath you as he cried, raw and unguarded. “I would have listened. I would have helped. I love you.”

“And I love you.” He shook. “More than I could possibly put into words. But I was so scared of losing you. And ironically, in my efforts to avoid that…I’ve come so, so close to it happening.”

You shook your head. Lifted his until he was looking at you. And it was like that, his face inches from yours, that you promised him the same thing you’d promised long ago. “You will never lose me. Ever. You are my mate, and I am yours. We love each other, when we’re happy and fine, and when we’re not. This is our life, Azriel. We can’t avoid living it in some pointless bid to outrun death.”

For a moment, he just…studied you. As if your words cleared months and months of accumulated fog and cobwebs, and helped him to see what was right in front of him. That you were right in front of him.

You had survived the war. So had he. 

The two of you deserved to live — together. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. A little while ago, I started to visit Madja for help with these feelings. I knew I couldn’t go on like this.” He explained. “But I don’t — I swear to you, I never went near anybody else. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”

And you knew that. Gods, you knew it. You almost felt foolish for even thinking it, but…you supposed, like him, you’d gotten so far inside your head, you didn’t know the way out.

One thing did linger in the back of your mind, though. Torturing you a little. You swallowed, wiping Az’s cheeks free of tears as you asked, “what of the perfume you smelled of?” 

Again, his eyes shuttered. He bowed his head slightly to touch yours. “Check my jacket pocket.”

Frowning, you paused. And then slid your hands into both pockets of the jacket you still wore. It was in the front left one that your hand enclosed around what felt like a small, glass vial. You plucked it out, tilting your head. 

“Smell it.” Az instructed softly.

Your eyes met his. And slowly, you pulled the stopper out of the vial and lifted it to your nose. 

The smell hit you immediately. That same smell — undoubtedly — that had clung to his clothes that night. A little too sweet for your liking, slightly floral…you grimaced, stoppering the little bottle once more. “What is it?” You asked. 

“Madja has been helping me to open up…to get better at voicing my thoughts and feelings.” Azriel explained quietly. “And along with that, she made me this tonic. It has soothing properties that help me slip into a state of mind ready for a more peaceful sleep. That night you smelt it on me…it was the first time she’d given it to me. I’d applied it right before I’d entered the house, because I wanted to see how well I would sleep. If I could truly get past my nightmares.”

It was your turn for your eyes to shutter then. Guilt swarmed you, brash and unwelcome. “And I ruined your sleep by starting a fight and storming out.”

Azriel’s face turned serious. “You had every right to confront me the way you did that night. I should have told you sooner what was going on. That I was seeking help. I should have avoided hurting both of us like this.”

You sighed softly, tugging him closer once more. Your strange, complicated mate…the male you loved happily and proudly.

He’d been hurting. Struggling. You should have known.

But then…you’d been hurting and struggling, too. The aftermath of war wasn’t easy for anyone. It wasn’t a case of slipping back into your old life before you’d almost perished on that battlefield. 

You’d both become chewed up and spat out by your own respective grief from that time. And instead of communicating…you’d both taken your eye off the ball. Allowed deep feelings to fester. 

Never again. Never again would you allow this to happen.

“I think we’re all a little broken from the war, Az.” You brushed his hair from his face, staring at him earnestly. “But now that we know what we’re dealing with…we can heal. Together.”

His eyes threatened to well up again. And before you could see the tears form, he was leaning forward and planting a firm kiss against your lips. “I’m so sorry.” He apologised a third time. 

“Shh. No more of that.” You whispered, rocking him. “From this moment on, we move forward.” 

His arms held you tightly against him, warmth seeping into you. You didn’t know how long you sat there for, in each other’s arms, but as a breeze whipped over you, you felt your home calling. Coaxing the two of you back.

“Let’s go home, my love.” You kissed Azriel’s forehead.

He stared at you through wet lashes. “...To our home?”

Not Amren’s apartment. Not the River House or the Town House or the House of Wind.

“Yes.” You laced your fingers through his. “To our home.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ azriel tag list:

@hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @emturtles @lostpirateinwonderland @kammsinn @localhopedealerr @pee-stachio @tobifeemo @torchbearerkyle @honeycriess @shadowsingersmate24 @azziessidehoe @camillo-420 @aztheshadowsinger

[queerfortress2]

Hello!

May I request any number of mercs you’d like to write for helping a S/O who is getting burnt out from work/school/general busy life stuff?

I’m having the worst burnout right now and it stinks :/

If I had any preference…any of these: Medic, Engie, Scout, Spy

You can write for one, you can write for all of them, whatever you would like to do.

I’m a woman and use she/her but you can make this gender neutral so non-female folks can also enjoy, whichever you’d like!

Hope you’re well, and thank you <3

an engie request finally you don’t understand — mod engie

GN!READER X MEDIC + ENGINEER + SCOUT + SPY (SEPARATE)

MEDIC

my brother in christ he is ALSO working. 2fort’s best paper pusher right there.

if you see work pile up he wouldn’t be opposed to helping you if you ignore is own work piling up. he doesn’t mind it really, as much as he says he doesn’t get burnt out he absolutely does and completely understands.

also taking you out of a work environment !! separate yourself from work for a little while, it’ll make you feel a lot better. he would take you somewhere nice if he wasn’t banned for 99% of public spaces, but does his best with what he has. you can walk around town together or he’ll invite you to his private quarters for you to relax with him and his Unusual Amount of Doves.

he’s also huge he’s practically a living weighted blanket. he isn’t exactly one to lay down and cuddle for hours but he can give you physical comfort before he finds himself distracted by something else in the room. you WILL have to listen to his crazy side rants if you spend time with him.

over all i think he’s more work oriented, so i think he’s more focused on “getting it all done” than “girl fuck your work we’ll go out on the town”

ENGINEER

paper pusher number two

he saw it happening before you did and probably dragged you out of the workshop before it got too serious. in the most non-creepy way possible he finds himself observing you frequently when you work together (or just in the same area) and will run checks on you frequently. need water? don’t worry about it, got a mini fridge right there for you— hey would you be a darling and pass the beer over too? thanks.

hospitality is his deal, even if you’re dating he finds himself treating you like a guest. you get the top priority. ignore his constant working and hypocrisy and he’s like a mini nurse.

also also probably does the work for you while he distracts you with something else. he doesn’t mean to be untruthful but.. while you nap he might’ve finished up a bit of your work and just told you that you did it but you were so tired you didn’t remember. HE JUST WANTS THE BEST FOR YOU

celebration too! he can actually go places, he takes you to a nice little diner and has dinner with you. he’s wearing his stupid little plaid shirt and jeans to dress nice and is TOTALLY playing but off like he’s the prettiest boy at the party. (he is) he even does the slick back hair motion on his hardhat (or very bald head). i want his dead /pos.

SCOUT

brother doesn’t know what he’s doing. he is one of the WORST at trying to help you get work done. he honestly just tells you to forget about it and you both just leave to go run about the base for a bit. a good jog never hurt anyone, i guess. (pauling is drowning in work)

he’s irresponsible so don’t trust him to help you either, he’ll forget about it and get distracted with something else entirely. but it’s the thought that counts! he’s also illiterate so that’s probably a problem with homework or just filing pages…

he also doesn’t take no for an answer, if you shove him off he’s just gonna keep pestering you, or if you’re small enough? just GRAB YOU. you’re leaving that desk whether you like it or NOT. you’re gonna go— as the kids say— “touch grass.” it’s gonna happen.

on the bright side, you’re never bored, he’s extremely entertaining. even if it gives you guys weird looks out in public, at least you aren’t frowning! you’re just having a good time.

if anything you’re going to get a good break, but when you get back that work is still going to be there, that’s a guarantee.

[vintageseawitch]

this is what i think of when third party voters go around acting morally superior because they don't want to get their hands dirty like the rest of us. they're toddlers having temper tantrums because instead of using the system in a way that could benefit them in the long term like the extremist Republicans have been doing for decades, third party voters refuse to participate in local civics & then claim the entire country is already fascist. they're so cute in their naivety if they think the US can't get any worse.

what the fuck do you think will happen if you try to protest against a government with a military as massive, lethal, & expensive as ours. who do you think will be sacrificed first? oh what's that? crickets? thought so. i'm a white woman but i will absolutely use my voice to point out leftists can be racist as fuck & the anti-blackness in your spaces can be absolutely fucking wild. not everyone leftist is white, but many that are can be pretty problematic.

if you think i'm selfish then fine. if you state that you would gladly exchange my life for a Palestinian like one of you said in a comment to me a few weeks ago then fine. i'm out here fighting to make sure the people who live here in this country don't experience our own Holocaust.

if you have a problem with people wanting to fight this while claiming you're anti-genocide, you're a fucking liar & a hypocrite. you won't know what the fuck to do in a true fascist country. i don't doubt there are pockets of fascism already existing here but you thinking it's already the worst it can be is as infuriating as people who think the government is creating their massive hurricanes using weather machines. you sound just as childish & delusional. you already sound like children because you will never take responsibility for your choices if it ends up helping him win.

jill stein's campaign is a sham. she is deliberately running as a spoiler. she's a wealthy white woman who lives in a mostly white affluent neighborhood. she's going around lecturing black people about white supremacy. she is getting funds from Republicans as well as help from trump's lawyers. Lockheed Martin has given her money. she's involved in shady as fuck index funds for companies that harm the environment. she only started talking about Gaza during this election cycle to hit you in the feelings so she can bank on it. she made a whole stink about needing a recount, raised a bunch of money for that, & then that money disappeared who knows where. do you all hear this? do you care? no, you're just like maga with their orange Jesus. you don't give a FUCK about stein's red flags because she's "different."

if Harris loses & you blame anyone but yourselves, you're cowardly traitors who threw us regular Americans to the wolves because of your precious fucking principles. history has shown time & time again that protest voting typically allows something worse to take control. it's hardly ever beneficial to the people. you're vile. you don't want to make this world a better place by allowing so many near you to suffer & die. if both sides are the same then please tell me you're okay with another trump presidency. or just shut the fuck up.

i look forward to more potentially heartwarming messages saying that my life doesn't mean shit from people who allegedly are against the death penalty & are pro-human rights 🥰

please vote, don't stop talking about Project 2025, etc. i hope enough of us vote in a way that these pathetic third party voters don't gain any kind of traction. at this point i'm just angry at their hypocrisy when they don't even listen to other protestors who live here & are begging them to not vote third party. i refuse to listen to y'all not take responsibility for your part. Project 2025 will hurt us all but apparently you're okay with that or you think it's already here. smooth brain takes all around. anyways good luck & stay safe to anyone who votes blue 💙

[hindulivesmatter]

The thing is, I do think that sometimes both sides take it to the extreme, as people do. But it's the sheer hyprocrisy and self-hatred among Indian leftists that makes me stay the hell away from them. I don't think they are entirely wrong; I myself have an opinion that's somewhere in the middle. But these leftists try to call themselves open-minded and progressive and then constantly post some of the most asinine, close-minded and unempathetic takes on the planet. You'll see them talk about how the right never talks about hate-crimes against Muslims, while they do. But hate crimes against Hindus also happen, and they never talk about that either! And yet they feel justified in calling out the other side, like... the call is coming from inside the house, no? And it's even worse in a way, because I actually haven't seen any Hindu person deny that crimes happen against Muslims in India, but these leftists are constantly saying that Hindus are not persecuted in India at all, that we just have victim mentality and all that. I'm sorry, I must have imagined the genocide of the Kashmiri Pandits, the governments that tear down our temples, the governments that are able to just go and say that we need to wipe out Hinduism without any repercussions multiple times.

And then they try to say that Hindus co-opt the trauma of others and use it for sympathy, cause god forbid we try to relate to others, I guess. They'll say we use others' trauma to further our own agenda, and then go ahead and say things like "the Kashmiri Pandits wouldn't want you to fight for them like this," or "their trauma doesn't deserve to be used for Islamophobia." And it's right, but their intentions aren't good here. They only ever talk about the pandits trauma when they are trying to prop up their views and when they are talking about hate against Muslims. They never talk about the actual trauma Kashmiri Hindus have faced, because then they would have to admit that Hindus also suffer, and they can't do that.

And let's not forget the other hypocrisy. The way they'll talk about Hindus "colonizing" Kashmir and turn around and suck up to the Mughals and even the British. They'll raise a massive stink about us taking back one temple on one of our most holy sites that was razed to the ground by colonizers to build a Mosque that wasn't even being used. You'll never find these people talk about the impact of colonization on India, because that would mean they have to address the fact that Hindus suffered a lot under Islamic invasion. And it's annoying and sad to me that people have become so unable to criticize Islamic invaders without being seen as Islamophobic. Muslims have unfortunately faced a lot of racism, but that doesn't mean that Islamic colonization did not happen and that it did not affect us almost irreparably. We have to talk about it. But these people are allergic. They think criticizing a man who killed thousands, raped women and did such heinous crimes is bigotry. It's why I can't even agree with them even when our values align.

The thing is, I do think that sometimes both sides take it to the extreme, as people do. But it's the sheer hyprocrisy and self-hatred among Indian leftists that makes me stay the hell away from them.

PERFECTLY SAID. There's a reason I do not stick around with full leftists anymore.

Absolutely amazing, anon. Did not hold back and I love it. 10/10 ask.

[that-one-kiddo-in-the-back]

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻Oh my God, she actually made a good video review she's learning. Let's give her around of applause👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Too bad that she's still a fucking hypocrite, with how much she complained about dungeon meshi for having a bath scene then she should have hated this anime with a burning passion.

If she likes something then there are a millon reasons of why this is a great thing and the people are great for being into the thing but if she hates the thing then everything and one is a fascist or "dead in the head" as she would put it.

Now, I have never seen a place further than the universe because I don't like moe anime. I think they are really creepy, and when it's subbed, I find the high-pitched VA to really hurt my ears but something about how the girls in this one always crying made me think that the creator has some kind of crying kink.

If she hadn't made a big ass stink about dungeon meshi having two adult women sharing a platonic bath with each other but fucking closes her eyes at high school girls being objectified by grown men, I wouldn't give a shit about her video.

But her comment about "Oh, you can skip that one scene." Is such bullshit because you have to skip a big chunk of the episode.

She was also so close to not trauma dump on her viewers but for fuck sakes she just can't help herself can she?

Now, if it wasn't for her hypocrisy and the fact she brought up her sister yet again, I really wouldn't care. I don't have that much to say about her video because, again, I haven't watched a place further than the universe, and at this point, I never will.

[all-pacas]

DIAGNOSTIC OLYMPICS, SEASON 3, EPISODES 1-12

S1: part one, part two, part three

S2: part one, part two, part three

Hi! I was curious about who on House (besides House) gets the most diagnoses right. Other folks have already run a tally (it's Chase), but I was curious how other factors would influence the tally — whose ideas get run with, who manages treatment, who screws up… So I thought I'd keep score.

1 point for getting the answer. This is almost always going to be House.

.5 points for Valuable Contribution — stuff that isn't the final answer, but either is thought to be the final answer or is valuable to the solving of the case. Stuff like "noticing something on the MRI" doesn't count; things like "figuring out how to treat" does.

-.5 to -1 for Mistakes — stuff that delays or prevents diagnoses, injuring or killing patients, etc.

MEANING DIAGNOSES: Scurvy for patient one, Addison’s for patient two

+2 HOUSE: One for curing scurvy girl, and one for Addison’s guy. That said, not a lot to say about this episode; the fellows didn’t do much besides follow orders and most of the episode was just about House. Which is fine, just boring for the purposes of this project!

CANE AND ABLE DIAGNOSES: Chimerism

+1 HOUSE: Still manages to pull it out in the end, despite being off his game. +.5 CAMERON: Is the one to figure out why the patient keeps having different results on his bleeding time tests (that isn’t “Chase fucked up”). Also has the idea to tag the foreign DNA in order to target it for removal. +0 CHASE: Yet another episode where he really bonds with a child patient, and he even tells off the parents for not being supportive. He doesn’t do much in terms of diagnosing, although he does a lot to take care of the kid. CHASE DID IT: Chase is blamed for screwing up a bleeding test: this is the second time him making a mistake has been the operative assumption. This time, Foreman really jumps on the bandwagon.

INFORMED CONSENT DIAGNOSES: Amyloidosis

+0 HOUSE: Sure, he solved it. But putting the patient in a coma against his will and insisting on treatment against his will is… shady. I mean, I get that sometimes patients don’t know what is in their own best interest and it’s a gray area, but we can all agree that this dude knew what he wanted and House utterly ignored it. -.5 CAMERON: She loses points for refusing to work on the case at all, which does count as “bad medical practice;” not to mention hypocrisy. She doesn’t want him to die, but refuses to treat him when House doesn’t kill him? She doesn’t lose points for the actual euthanasia: the patient was terminal and begging for it even before it was clear he was terminal, and that means she doesn’t get demerits for killing someone. +5 NURSE BRENDA: Watching her give everyone the stink eye this episode made me remember how great she is.

LINES IN THE SAND DIAGNOSES: Eye worms

+1 HOUSE: As per usual, figures it out. +.5 FOREMAN: His bedside manner is not winning him any points this episode. I don’t think it harmed anything, but his impatience and general rudeness wasn’t helpful, either. That said, his tricking Wilson into doing a biopsy for him was pretty great, and he gets his points for deciding a brain tumor is most likely, deciding he’ll biopsy and proceed under the assumption, and challenging House to come up with a better idea. House doesn’t have one, and so Foreman gets a merit for Leadership. +0 CAMERON: Did she do anything related to the case this episode? +5 NURSE BRENDA: Did they write her off the show because she went to jail for trying to murder House? I love her

FOOLS FOR LOVE DIAGNOSES: Genetic disease. And incest!

+1 HOUSE: Comes up with the genetic explanation after an episode of foundering. +.5 CHASE: Comes up with a diagnoses of salmonella based on pot use, which is a stretch but House likes it and they run with it; it’s wrong but it’s the only idea they have for a while. +.5 FOREMAN: Because they’re not thinking genetic, they really struggle to come up with a diagnosis. Foreman insists it must be two different diseases, and gets his way on a biopsy when House doesn't have a better idea. +50 UHHH: Foreman comes out really strongly pro-incest in this episode, and like, I understand his basic point (they didn’t know they were siblings and even though they are genetically family they don’t have a familial relationship), but what a wild take from our guy.

QUE SERA SERA DIAGNOSES: Lung Cancer

+1 HOUSE: Finally realizes the dude has cancer after noticing clubbing on his hands. +.0 CAMERON: Manages to break the MRI and get away with it, which should honestly be worth more points. But loses those points for drugging the patient because she didn’t think he could make his own decisions about his care, causing him to crash through a window. -.5 CHASE: Exiting the entire episode when House tells him to “keep sitting on his ass” is honestly super funny of him. However, it’s also putting his whiny fatphobia ahead of helping the patient, sooo…

SON OF COMA GUY DIAGNOSES: Genetic disease, but mostly heart failure.

+0 TEAM: IDK man. This is a good episode, but it’s also one with fake medicine and no real diagnosing because it relies on fake coma fixing medicine. The fellows work hard while the grownups have their road trip.

WHAC-A-MOLE DIAGNOSES: Genetic disease

+.5 HOUSE: House figures it out, but loses some points for keeping his team from helping Wilson, which in turn endangers Wilson’s patients. He also loses like five friendship points, but we’re not judging on that. +.0 CHASE: When House challenges the fellows to run a single test, Chase’s first guess is a virus, and he points out that the vomiting could have caused the heart attack. House’s theory is Hepatitis A, and he agrees with the heart attack/vomit idea. Chase ends up testing for bacteria and not a virus, but he was by far the closest of the three -- Foreman thought neurological, and Cameron thought a weakness in the heart. Chase doesn’t get points, because he didn’t actually figure it out, but I thought it was interesting to mention that he was by far the closest.

FINDING JUDAS DIAGNOSES: Light allergy

+1 CHASE: Honestly, part of me wants to give him more than one point for this. We’ve had a few episodes now where someone else has figured out the diagnosis moments before House, or after House, but this is the first time someone figures it out instead of House. Chase is about to go on a bit of a hot streak, though, so he’ll make up the bonus points later. CHASE DID IT: Both literally solving the case, and, when House starts to question the treatment, Chase preemptively (and angrily) suggests that maybe he screwed up, since that’s always where House ends up.

MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS DIAGNOSES: Autoimmune cancer

+.5 HOUSE: Figures it out, but steals oxy. From a dead patient, so I guess technically he didn’t do any medical harm, but… IDK, I’m counting it. +0 TEAM: Foreman comes the closest to being useful this episode: Cameron is too busy being mad at Wilson, and Chase is largely silent, I guess still smarting over being punched. But most of the episode is about House.

WORDS AND DEEDS DIAGNOSES: Meningioma

+1 HOUSE: Figures out just about every twist of the case, even while pretending to be in rehab. +.5 CHASE: Realizes the patient is hiding symptoms, which makes them realize he’s been having a whole series of heart attacks. Even Cameron and Foreman give him credit for the ‘breakthrough.’ +0 CAMERON: She correctly diagnoses broken heart syndrome, but misses the fact that the patient is delusional; that his partner and brother aren’t involved. This leads him to electroshock treatment and permanent literal brain damage. I don’t think she deserves to lose a point, since the electroshock was House’s idea and at the time it was the only solution they could think of. But it’s still a big thing to miss.

ONE DAY, ONE ROOM DIAGNOSES: N/A

RUNNING TALLY:

HOUSE: 44 (+8) TEAM: 5.5 (+0) FOREMAN: 3 (+1) CHASE: 6.5 (+1.5) CAMERON: 4 (+0)

Foreman has started to get himself into his niche of "able to successfully get his way over House," giving him such much needed points. Chase is about to go on one hell of a streak, starting of course with Finding Judas; even with a couple of demerits, he keeps having and getting credited for Good Ideas this season… which gets him fired, oh well.

[olderthannetfic]

People who make a huge stink about someone complaining about something petty, because "So much worse things are happening right now." in this tone where they clearly condemn anyone who dares have their own issues or troubles in life. First of all. Do they realize the irony of their statement? I'd even call it hypocrisy, because they are the person who's complaining about something just as dumb and petty, instead of "the actual issue". A standard they're trying to force one everyone else, except themselves it seems.

Second of all. Why the fuck do people always feel like they can decide that people are not allowed to talk about anything anymore? Shitty things happen in the world, shitty things happen in our lives. There are different levels of shitty and we can care about more than one thing, and we can also still have bad days or horrible days and talk about them.

Thirdly, and lastly. It's always the people who only care about things they themselves know about more directly, but anything beyond that they don't care or handwave it away. Not sure how to best explain it, maybe it's a big issue they had some previous knowledge of they're going to be all virtuous about it, but the moment it's from something they knew little about they became incredibly blase and condescending about it. Yeah things happening that you knew something about is going to hit harder, but these people will literally do a 180 and treat the suffering they don't care about like it's just a good mood killer and ask why they need to care. It only matters if they personally care.

--

[odinsblog]

“The mob takes the Fifth. If you’re innocent, why are you taking the Fifth Amendment?” —Donald J. Trump, September 2016

It’s anyone’s constitutional right to plead the Fifth, but man the hypocrisy stinks like a mf.

[petrified-aspen]

Been hearing a lot of people parroting the propagandized idea that "From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free!" is an inherently anti-semitic slogan. Immediately upon hearing it, this stinks of anti-Palestinian bias; only the worst faith interpretation of the phrase possible could be taken as even slightly problematic, and I doubt Columbia student protestors mean it in that bad of faith.

But there is a specific assertion that I found particularly fishy:

(if you harass this person, i will be disappointed in you. Feel free to block though.)

This is a big claim: That the phrase originally called for Arabic supremacy over the land, and by saying a 'translated version' of it that has a completely different literal meaning, you are also calling for Arabic supremacy and the ethnic cleansing of Jews. If this is true, this could mean there are violent anti-Semites at your child's school, revolting in support of a new anti-Semitic state! Gasp!

Wait, wait, slow down, don't get wound up so quick! before we act on what we just heard and repost it without a second thought, let's look into it and find a source that isn't complete conjecture from a Tumblr blog!

There's an easy place to start: Wikipedia. I know, I know, you shouldn't cite it in your essay, but it might have some sources that are useful for us! Okay, scrolling.. perfect, a blurb detailing exactly how it was used in the 60's!

Okay, so immediately, we have an example of a pro-Palestinian organization, which predates Hamas, using the phrase to mean something completely different from what the commenter claimed. Now, they would probably wrinkle their nose at the original intent, the "call for an Arab state", and interpret it to be a call for ethnic cleansing. I would like to point out, though, that Zionists have been calling for a Jewish state encompassing Mandatory Palestine for, like, a century (more on that later). Knowing this, it's complete hypocrisy to wrinkle your nose at the implied call the PLO once made while turning the other cheek at Zionist rhetoric which says functionally the same thing. This hypocrisy is made even more obvious by the PLO's revised usage of the term.

See, if you actually wanted to engage with pro-Palestinian protestors in good faith on this topic, you would reasonably assume that the students at Columbia mean the phrase as a call for an Arabic and Jewish state. At the VERY least, you would entertain the idea that they are just as likely to be benign as they are likely to be ideologically aligned with Hamas.

But let's see what the article that Wikipedia cites has to say, just because I'm curious.

Here is a paragraph from page 77 of "From the River to the Sea to Every Mountain Top" by Robin D. G. Kelley:

Turns out, slandering people for their benign use of the phrase "From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free" is nothing new, having occurred when Marc Lamont Hill used the phrase in a speech to the UN in 2018. Just a reminder of exactly how deep and how far back these lies run.

The article goes on to identify the ACTUAL origin of the phrase--and what do you know, it isn't Palestinian! In fact, it isn't even Arabic:

"First, the odious phrase in question began as a Zionist slogan signifying the boundaries of Eretz Israel. The Likud Party’s founding charter reinforces this vision in its statement that 'between the Sea and the Jordan there will only be Israeli sovereignty.'" (Kelley, 78).

The hypocrisy deepens. Not only does "From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free" not have anti-Semitic roots, it has Israeli supremacist origins, and was appropriated into a rallying cry for solidarity by the Palestinian Liberation Organization.

"But Hamas is still using it in an anti-semitic way, and you shouldn't contribute to that," you might say. I'm glad you did, because it begs the question; why do Hamas and the PLO have such different ideologies, despite both fighting for Palestinian liberation? Why don't resistance fighters in Gaza align with the PLO rather than with Hamas?

Well, Hamas is really the only group with the funding, equipment, and ranks able to put up an organized resistance against the Israeli attacks on Gaza. There's a very specific reason why; the organization that would become Hamas, as Andrew Higgins wrote in WSJ, was influenced heavily by Israel:

TL;DR: Israeli government officials with jurisdiction over Gaza promoted the development of charities that would fund and build the foundation for Hamas, all because Hamas' right-wing militancy made them an enemy of the Palestinian Liberation Organization and Fatah.

So let me get this straight. Zionists created an Israeli-supremacist slogan, a leftist pro-Palestinian organization (and generations of pro-Palestinian activists afterwards, including Angela Davis) appropriated it to be a rallying cry that promotes cross-cultural and ethnic solidarity, then the Israeli state propped up an anti-semitic group who then re-appropriated the phrase, and now there are politicians, journalists, and likely members of your community spreading lies about the meaning of the phrase to slander a humanitarian movement as anti-Semitic. Did I get everything?

This is what we mean when we say that Zionist propaganda manufactures accusations of anti-semitism to rally more people to their ultimately genocidal cause. All I had to do was open two Wikipedia articles to find evidence of a decades-long effort to project every flaw of Zionism, in all of its senseless violence, onto Palestinians. It took FIVE MINUTES for me to think critically, do a bit of research, and come away from this a more educated person.

I don't doubt that many of the people who are raising the alarm about anti-Semitism in the Palestinian liberation movement are acting in good faith. As a Jewish person, I am grateful for any legitimate, moral defense of my culture. But if you aren't willing to put the work in to analyze if what you're reading (and repeating) is actually true, then you will only harm the movement in the long run; at best, you're depriving yourself of crucial tools for solidarity, such as this rallying cry. At worst, you're slandering people and and risking their livelihoods and their safety.

Here's my citations, I highly recommend you check them out:

Oh, and I almost forgot: From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free!

https://www.jstor.org/stable/26873236

[mugiwara-lucy]

SMH I will always find it a little amusing (yet mainly annoying) how the same people clowning on Sakura for crying out for Naruto to come save everyone during the Pain Arc and will say how "useless" she is:

But will praise and fawn over the scene of Sanji crying out for Robin to save him from Black Maria and call him "one of the best developed characters" 🙄

The whole thing stinks of hypocrisy and even a little misogyny

[paperbackribs]

The Gift (6 of 15) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 5 You're Doing That On Purpose (Part B) next: Chapter 7 Answering the Question Content: steddie fic, 2K words

Last chapter, Eddie convinces Steve about which film to watch on movie night, Robin reveals she bagged a date with Vickie, and Steve unexpectedly saw a vision through Eddie's sight. This chapter, Steve would really like people to stop staring at how strange he looks and he confesses his fears and doubts about his Witch powers to Eddie.

Chapter 6 Help a Friend

“Steve! We need your help.” Dustin’s voice rings through Family Video. The couple in the corner look back over their shoulders. Probably startled by the sheer volume belting out of the little butthead, Steve thinks with irritation.

It’s the end of the Friday rush and everyone and their mother should be home with their new releases and weekly specials. The purple fluorescent lights shining down from the top of the ceilings banish the darkness from the outside, yes, but they don't create nearly as hip or appealing a psychedelic cast as ownership thought they would. The strain of the lights along with the burr of the airconditioner adds to the building pain in Steve's head.

The entire day has been a wash. It was Robin’s shift off, he's not been able to eat in hours, and, on top of it all, he'd had to endure Keith’s odd looks until the lanky man had left half an hour ago.

Just ask, Steve wants to snidely say. Point to my face or neck and say, hey man, what happened to you? Instead, he had put up with Knowing that Keith was looking at him throughout the afternoon while watching the other guy’s head whip away any time Steve turned to catch him out. The hypocrisy of it was grating.

Now he’s an hour from getting off and he wants to, at the bare minimum, have a shower to wash off the stink of the day before Eddie comes over to watch their movie.

Lucas follows behind Dustin with the embarrassed expression of someone who understands what an inside voice should sound like. But it’s Dustin who slams his open backpack on to the counter, pencils and two spare batteries rolling out to drop on the floor.

“Fuck,” Dustin disappears in front of the counter as he bends over to pick up his mess.

“Language!” Steve rubs at the headache pushing behind the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry Steve,” Lucas says before lighting up. “Hey, do you have Night of the Creeps yet? Max saw the trailer earlier this year and El says she thinks zombies are funny.”

“That’s not the important thing here, Lucas.” Dustin stands up with a fistful of pencils and batteries only to shove Lucas to the side, who then pushes him back with his gangly arms. The stouter boy looks like he’s about to ram into his friend, so Steve does the responsible, mature thing and pulls Dustin back by the collar and shakes him like a disobedient puppy.

“Yeah, look over in the Horror section. It should be in New Release, but no one wants to rent it out.” Lucas follows Steve’s thumb to stroll over to the direction he gestured towards. Pointedly ignoring his friend squirming by the tips of his toes.

“Now, what’s this about,” Steve asks, releasing him.

Dustin clears his throat, conspicuously looking over his shoulder to see if any customers have come closer. The lone couple have long since lost interest. Nevertheless, Steve wants to smack him when Dustin hisses, “I need you to do a love spell for me.”

Steve drops his head into his hands. He just needs a moment, in the dark, away from this fucking day.

“First of all,” he mumbles, glaring out between his spreading fingers. “Don’t talk about this in public, you little dickhead.” He leans in further, “What I told you all is private and should stay that way.”

“Sorry,” Dustin looks appropriately chastened for all of three seconds before he perks up. “But, ah, could you do the thing.”

“No, I can’t do the thing. Even if I could, I wouldn’t do the thing. Because whatever you’re thinking about has got to be sketchy as fuck. Aren’t you dating Suzie, anyway?”

Lucas slides over his chosen VHS, which Steve notes has a big fat R sticker at the top of the case.

“No.”

“Come on, Steve. You got us The Shining.”

Steve crosses his arms, “That was for movie night. And I was able to watch over you guys when we saw it.”

“It’s just for me and the girls, we’re responsible,” Lucas tries, winningly.

Steve grabs the case and goes into the back to get the cassette, grumbling. He knew he was going to give in, why’d he even try to talk Lucas out of it? At least, out of all of them, he can probably trust Lucas, Max and El... Huh.

He returns, renting the movie under his name on the computer but watching Lucas from the side of his eye. “So, you don’t need the same help as Dustin, then?”

Lucas purses his lips, “Nah, I’m okay. Max explained it to me, and I just have to share her with El. But me and El aren’t together. We have a schedule; it all works out.”

“Ah, okay,” Steve replies, uncertain about whatever is going on with this group but deciding the blame lies with him: he never should have asked.

Dustin, in the meantime, looks a bee’s dick away from pulling out his tightly curled hair. “Steve,” he whines. “Suzie hasn’t talked to me in a week. A whole week! She’s clearly fallen out of love with me now that the honeymoon phase is over. I need to — you know, get a thing.”

Steve wonders if he should have just let Dustin use the word spell. It’s wrong on so many levels; he’s not Elizabeth Montgomery, he doesn’t twitch his nose and make people fall in and out of love. But it might be better than having Dustin repeatedly and in the most grating tone keep saying thing.

“Have you tried talking to her,” Steve asks, patiently.

“She’s not responding to the radio.”

“Have you tried calling her, on the telephone,” Steve clarifies, even more patiently.

Dustin blinks. “But her dad?”

“You don’t know what’s happened, Dustin. Rather than panicking, try calling her. If that doesn’t work, send her a letter. If that doesn’t work, we’ll talk more. Not,” Steve points an officious finger in Dustin’s face as he starts to open his mouth, “about that.” Steve pushes the R-rated film into its case, slaps it into Lucas’s waiting hands, and directs that finger again towards the door.

“Good night!”

As they leave, Lucas looks pleased, and Dustin looks like he’s brewing up a plan. No matter what they throw at him, Steve congratulates himself, he’s a pretty damn good babysitter. He turns to the approaching couple with a practised smile.

His satisfaction lasts through the drive home and past his shower. But it’s when he’s wiping his sweaty hands over his jeans one last time that he’s stopped as he catches his reflection in the hallway mirror.

The amber of the wood frames his square face, forcing his gaze front and centre. Making him unable to avoid the white globe on his left or the red ring below his jaw.

He’s always been a little vain, having a healthy appreciation for the work he'd put into his well-coifed hair and the muscles that playing basketball and swim meets had put on his bones. If he puts the effort in to look good, then he should at least get to appreciate the results, right?

But Keith got into his head, and he can’t stop picking at the thought that between his cockeyed features and the fading line around his neck, he must look unpleasant to some people. People like Eddie. Who, even as the self-proclaimed master of all that is weird and wonderful, hadn’t been able to look away from Steve’s eyes when he’d first gotten out of the hospital.

Or maybe it’s just that the uncanny, which has always sat comfortably inside of him, is now visible to others. Shining through in a manner that compels even the most mundane of people to stop and stare.

After The Sacrifice, he thinks that perhaps the white threads of fate are reflected in his left eye. That anyone looking at Steve can see that he decided to play God and manipulate Eddie’s destiny.

What, he wonders, separates him from Vecna? Henry must not have started out as a sinister bastard; even as a child, he couldn’t have been purely evil from the get-go. Did getting his way, by using his powers, corrupt the child until the adult thought that torture and murder were justifiable as long as they were in service to what he believed was right?

He thinks back to Nancy's instant suspicion and, even though it was more subtle, Eddie's initial tenseness around him. Did people like Nancy and Eddie see a connection between the well-meant intentions of Steve to the malevolent actions of Vecna?

Out of the corner of his right eye, he sees a shifting body behind the frosted glaze of the front door before the bell rings.

Eddie.

Steve looks back at his reflection for a moment, unclenching his jaw and making sure that an easy smile graces his face when he pulls open the door. The warmth of the night air gently rushes against his body and the stars twinkle with a golden shimmer behind Eddie.

Eddie, who startles back like he hadn’t expected Steve to answer so quickly.

Christ, it must have looked like he was waiting by the door like some desperate loser. Steve runs a hand through his hair as he starts to stammer out an excuse, but the other guy is looking increasingly bewildered, so Steve takes a moment to pause, blow out a breath and try again.

“Sorry, weird afternoon, come in.”

Eddie crosses the threshold to follow Steve through, gently placing the six-pack on the table in front of the couch. “Are you okay?”

Steve thinks back to his promise on the kitchen counter, the truth. “Just struggling with looking like this,” he waves a hand over his face and neck, trying to encompass what ‘this’ is.

Eddie leans in to nudge him with an elbow, “A total smoke show?”

Laughter bubbles out of his chest and Steve looks on at Eddie fondly. “You’re right, what was I thinking,” he asks wryly.

“Hey, no, Stevie. I mean it,” Eddie grabs his wrist, a warm band connecting them. He raises his other hand to rest a finger on the skin by Steve’s left eye; the exact spot he had touched after he had been pulled back to life.

Eddie continues, sincerity ringing through his words. “Even if this is weirding you out, it’s a badge of honour. You made the world shift. You raised me from the dead. If you like me even a little, then you have to like the eye. Thems the rules.”

Steve chews on the inside of his cheek before admitting to the heart of what is bugging him. “I don’t regret it; I never will. But I forced an unnatural path and maybe that’s too much power for anyone to really wield.”

“So what?”

Steve blinks, “What?”

Eddie looks back at him, mismatched eyes unconcerned yet frank. “So what that you’re powerful. Good for you.”

He leans forward, gently tucking a lock of Steve’s hair behind his left ear. The tip of his finger trails the curve of his haircut to the base of Steve's neck, which Eddie loosely clasps, speaking earnestly into their shared space, their foreheads almost touching. “If anyone is going to be able to do good with what they have, it’s you. Have you ever harmed anyone?”

Steve opens his mouth to protest; he’s done plenty.

“No,” Eddie firmly stops him, shaking him in a gentler echo of Steve to Dustin earlier that night. “Anyone weaker than you. Or made someone do something they didn’t want to do, with or without powers. And I don’t mean that pissant peer pressure crap. We’re all guilty of that at some point or another. I mean, in your heart of hearts, if you had the chance to force someone to do something for your own gain, no matter whether it hurt them or not. Would you?”

He wouldn’t, realises Steve, taking comfort in Eddie's plain-spoken tone. He may have done some shit he wasn’t proud of back in high school, but he’s not that guy any longer.

The thought of what Eddie describes is repugnant and he gratefully holds onto that feeling; because that was what Vecna was missing, Steve suddenly understands. The utter repugnance and disgust at hurting the people around him, strangers and friends alike.

“You’re the babysitter, right? The protector. You don’t have to worry about any of that shit,” Eddie's expression is sweetly earnest and the clean relief of his words has Steve's head falling to rest on Eddie's shoulder. Who tentatively brings his arm up to embrace Steve.

Steve leans further into the hug, taking what comfort he can from Eddie and feeling the weight of the day falling away. Eddie’s woodsy cologne soothingly envelops him while the scratch of his recently shaved jaw catches strands of Steve’s hair as if to join them further together.

“Thank you,” he says softly into the warmth of Eddie's neck. “I had a shit day and I suppose it just piled up.”

“No problems,” Eddie murmurs lowly into his ear before drawing back, smiling into Steve’s face. “Now, how about we watch a true battle of good and evil?”

Steve nods in agreement before heading to the phone to call up Pizza Palace; thankful that he has Eddie in his corner and anticipating a night just for the two of them.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

Taglist

My taglist is always open, so let me know if you want to be added. Likewise, if you want to be removed, let me know. :) If I've missed you, definitely tell me because it's an accident!

@a-gae-af-racoon

@a-lovely-craziness

@aly-reads-alot

@bestwifehaver

@bookworm0690

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@ellietheasexylibrarian

@everyrandomthing

@finntheehumaneater

@geekymagicalpotato

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@hallucinatedjosten

@ilikeititspretty

@just-a-tiny-void

@ledleaf

@littlewildflowerkitten

@lostonceandneverfound

@manda-panda-monium

@matchingbatbites

@mightbeasleep

@nburkhardt

@newtstabber

@obliosworld

@oliver-sykes

@platonicbesties4life

@probablyscreamingintothevoid

@rajumat

@scoops-stevie-archive

@spectrum-spectre

@swimmingbirdrunningrock

@tartarusknight

@whackyrach

[texasjen13]

I just need to vent. The amount of blogs I’m seeing being absolutely abhorrent and nasty in their behavior towards him is completely disgusting. There’s no excuse for meanness. It sickens me that people think it’s okay to be so rude and offensive. No one isn’t saying you cannot call out hypocrisy, but the amount of people I see being just plain stink, and the blogs allowing this unnecessary mean behavior and even rejoicing with their anons is disgusting. And some of these people even claim to be spiritual. Ha. What a fucking joke. Because if you were really “spiritual” you’d know that it’s better to be compassionate towards another person. Or if you can’t, then stay in your lane in mind your ow business. Sorry, but I’m just so fucking sick of the disgusting and immature behavior of people on here.

Really

[softguarnere]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you for the tag @mercurygray!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 6, but hopefully that number will go up over spring break

What's your total AO3 word count?

119,136

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Like A Girl (Like A Man) - Band of Brothers

Just A Kid - The Outsiders

Bear The Burden Alone - The Chronicles of Narnia

For Whatever We Lose - Band of Brothers

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, absolutely! I share my writing because it allows me to connect with people who share my interests. If I'm not posting replies, it feels more like a one sided conversation, imo. Also, it seems the polite thing to do

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

It's about to be Like A Girl (Like A Man)! You'll see why soon >:)

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

On AO3, it's probably Bear The Burden Alone, but I try to keep the fics that I post here on Tumblr kinda upbeat with hopeful -- albeit open-ended -- endings.

Do you write crossovers?

Yeah! For Whatever We Lose is actually a crossover with The Pacific, and I'd love to do more crossovers in the future

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yep! I've deleted the comments, but some people were VERY ANGRY about the background Babe/Roe content in LAGLAM -- you know, despite the fact that the plot of the fic is driven by a queer woman's decision to cross-dress. Guess they had to draw the line somewhere, but the hypocrisy of it all makes me chuckle

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Kinda? I deleted most of it from the original LAGLAM drafts and instead just alluded to it, but things are going to be different in FWWL. Get ready for crappy ocean metaphors and religious imagery, babes!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not :( That would stink

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I think it would be fun!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Everlark! (said while frothing at the mouth because they make me go insane) I've been obsessed with them since I first read The Hunger Games at age 9. I could write you a whole novel about why I think they're perfect together, but I'll spare you the ramble (unless anyone wants it?)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Tears in my eyes when I tell you that it's probably the requests in my inbox. I keep telling myself that I'll get to them, but I've just felt unmotivated with all the stuff I've had going on in my personal life/at school. I really really do hope to get to them someday, though, because some of them will be really fun to write

What are your writing strengths?

I have no clue, lol. I tend to get compliments about how I describe settings, so I'm gonna say that!

What are your writing weaknesses?

My abuse of commas and italics.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Personally, I love doing it. Especially in a fic like LAGLAM, where even though most people don't speak the language I'm using (Cherokee), I feel like they can still see the importance to the characters and to the story. And I like tricking people into caring about Indigenous language preservation. My teachers told me that anything can be a vessel for carrying language on, and by God, I took that to heart

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Oh boy. I was in the fifth grade. I had won many writing competitions. Two classmates approached me and told me that they wished The Hunger Games had more post-Mockingjay Everlark content, and that since I was a good writer, they wanted me to write it. I was traded many cosmic brownies and other such snacks throughout the year for my services in providing my classmates with Everlark fics on pages of notebook paper that are probably crumpled up in a landfill by now. At the time, I had no idea I was writing fanfiction, but it was the start of my favorite hobby. Look at me now, baby!

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I've always wanted to write for TURN: Washington's Spies but have never had the courage haha

What's your favorite fic you've written?

I have a couple of one-shots that I'm pretty pleased with, but currently I'm going to say LAGLAM because it's been so special to me <3

Tagging (but no pressure!): @almost-a-class-act @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @liebgotts-lovergirl