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#but i just solved my own problem LMAO
darlingfreddie · 4 months
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Me being this 👌🏽 close to dropping out is kind of hilarious since this is my second to last semester
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Sherlock and Irene: *are going through emotional turmoil*
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Mycroft:
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#Honestly I'm kind of sad that we don't talk about him during this scene#When it's so goddamn funny 😂#Even the scenes before he was already absolutely devastated#Like when he got Moriarty's message#Man just wanted to solve his problems with cake#lol#And on the plane too#Mycroft at the start: Lmao Imma just gonna tell my little brother about this woman. Nothing bad can come out of this.#*6 months later*#Mycroft: FUCK NO... NO... NOOOOOO#And then he had to deal with these two in his own home#I'm sure he just wanted to chill down after a busy day#Thanks S & I#Now he be standing there like '🧍‍♂️' nearly the whole time#Waiting for them to resolve whatever the fuck is between them#Which is kind of interesting#Cuz unlike John he never got to see them interact with each other irl#Like he just wasn't there until now#Then this scene happened and he was probably confused a bit cuz 'Wait she be actually liking you?'#'Why?'#'I mean good for me but the fuck is happening??????'#Also just seeing his brother being like THAT#'Is he really in love or...????'#No wonder he didn't think that Sherlock wouldn't save her in Karachi#He wasn't there during their numerous eye fucking like John#Not like he needs it#I also like how he was the one who was present during this super important scene in both Sherlock's and Irene's lifes#Big Brother looking after his little brother and The Woman who is known for using other people's feelings against them#But you were so wrong about Sherlock's feelings Mycroft#Ofc he went to Karachi and he ATE... ugh there is no more space left for tags... shame
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realasslesbian · 1 year
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Throwback to that time I was six month into my law degree and decided to use it; had a landlord who was letting the place cave in with mould, sparking power switches, faulty hot water system that would randomly spit scalding water, the works, basically, plus they would always be harassing me for money, not rent money just 'I need $500 for a new phone pay me or move out', they'd also break into my mailbox regularly, and refused to sign any rental paperwork because they were tryna defraud the first home owners scheme, basically they were just an entire sack of shit, anyway, so rental laws are actually one of the few areas that are totally on the side of the more vulnerable (i.e. renters) and most landlords will blow a lot of hot air about what they're gonna do, but in reality, they can't do shit. So I moved out, no notice, no nothing, just stopped paying rent, I also sold all the whitegoods and furniture provided with the apartment on eBay, bc it didn't say nothing about no furnishings in the lease this dumbass wouldn't sign, those goods were mine now lmao, and she breaks into the apartment one day and finds it bare-ass empty, starts blowing up my phone over how she's gonna drag me through the court over the stuff I 'stole' and the rental arrears and whatever else, and I was just like 'well gee alright, if you think so, but I'd hate to trip on my way to court and just accidentally fall into a government office and then blurt out about how *name redacted* is defrauding the government to the tune of millions of dollars, and oopsy look at all the written evidence I dropped and is flying around in the air, all those letters you sent to my address, tryna make out you lived there, like I dunno if you want to risk it, I'm not supposed to give legal advice as a law student, but my legal advice is maybe just buy a new fridge sweetie, it'll cost you less than bothering me any further uwu' and tbh I basically became the female Saul Goodman at that point lmao
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yohankang · 4 months
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Honey, this might be very rude. But like what is your job. I want to save you from the that hell hole bro.
Please do not misunderstand nor feel pressured to answer.
I just hope it gets better.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
i'm an office manager which means that i'm responsible for all the paperwork (all invoices go through me), calls and emails. and i act like an assistant to basically everyone in our office. including shit like booking flights and hotels and taking care of everyone's cars and insurances etc. buying office supplies, taking care of how our office looks, making tea & coffee for guests, booking rooms, making sure our management signs the papers on time etc. etc. etc.
doesn't sound that bad but the 'acting like an assistant' is tricky. because i get like 20 daily requests from people to take care of something asap. like, paying a fine, calling some place to ask about something, scheduling a meeting, making changes in booking, registering a car etc.
now it's extra stressful bc i'm organizing a christmas party for 120+ people and it's not easy when you need to book hotels for 30 people, book a restaurant, decide on a menu, confirm attendance etc. and your guests are dickheads who don't care if you have to change their reservation 4 times in 3 days.
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y’know, we’re calling it a Win that the mall scene is still under 5k, all things considered
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slutweed · 1 year
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i have 2 and a half hours left of my shift today and I already want to call for tomorrow. not off until Tuesday I'm so checked out. i just want to lounge around like the mammal I am. Fuck production idccccc about selling clothes to people. we have a surplus, just pass them around.
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marklikely · 2 years
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and i have zero answers about this but i feel like we as a collective need to figure some stuff out bc we cannot keep having these constant threads about how all lgbt media is sanitized and boring these days in between callout posts for how every new lgbt media that isn't sanitized and boring is irredeemable problematic media you can't blog about
#i dont know what to do about this either so i am offering no suggestions#cause like idk. jsut like with the adventured zone the quest to find unproblematic diverse characters is just giving us boring .#but at the same time i get it like some things are just impossible to get past and that line is different for everyone#idk man! what do you do i dont want people who hit their limit on Problematic elements to just shut up and let others have fun or w/e#but i also think its really not getting us anywhere to be like. every new thing thats coming out has some problematic aspect dont watch it.#and this is the state we're in after years of the like 'critically consuming' discussion so clearly THATS given us zero progress too.#us deciding 'well you can like some problematic things as long as you're aware of it' has like#not improved the conversation at all its just deferred it to like 'well whats too problematic to like critically then'#and thus the cycle continues we're still having the exact same issue as before :/#avpost#if anything the critical consumption movement has made the problem worse because now#people are just being completely hypocritical and deciding what is or isnt 'too problematic to like critically' comes down to personal tast#taste*. whatever you like is ok to enjoy critically and whatever you dislike is too problematic to enjoy at all.#and the conversation just gets perfectly stuck there cause as it turns out you can like#rationalize and intellectualize just about any opinion even if you only got there using your own emotions#so its very easy to believe you're being objective about it and have solved the issue but really haven't solved anything at all#and let the record show im not immune to anything ive described here ok goodnight. this is just thinking out loud.#feel free to weigh in just please dont treat this as like some coherent mission statement or declaration.#i am litcherally typing as im thinking and not really editing. this is just an open discussion of my unfiltered thoughts lmao#but if you also have thoughts id love to hear it.
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baekuras · 3 months
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god having any free time really makes you wanna quit your job and run into the woods never to be seen by society again and just live out your life
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forgive-the-sea · 1 year
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mythvoiced · 2 years
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-. attempting a story/plot outline for the first time and idk does ‘because I said so’ work as a reason as to why a given character trait isn’t ‘solvable’ by the end of the story
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saturnianautist · 11 months
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☁️Astro notes☁️
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Disclaimer: I’m not a professional astrologer these are just my opinions based on what I know and my experiences with who I know.
Ps. This is my very first post on here so I hope whoever finds it enjoys :)
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
☁️ The Libras I’ve met arguing style is playing devils advocate lol. They want to talk about the situation from every perspective (that but what if friend lmao) whereas their opposite sign Aries have very strong set opinions and beliefs and will make theirs known controversial or not. (This goes for the sun moon and mercury especially)
☁️ I noticed time tends to move a lot faster for Fire suns with air placements and they move and think faster in general so they will be your impatient friend lmao. They also will often exaggerate how long something has been. For example,
Them: “you’ve been in here for 20 hours”
Me: “It has literally been 30 mins”
☁️ Virgo placements will literally eat one tiny ass bite the whole time they eat their food, like they will savor that plate of food for an hour bro. They are your friend or family member who will eat one popcorn piece at a time (yes im roasting myself).
☁️ Having dominantly Aquarius and Pisces in a chart together can make someone so distant sometimes and prone to escapism. They also are prone to isolating in their rooms as a coping mechanism and sleeping all day when they are going through it mentally.
☁️ Someone with an Aries mercury in a Capricorn degree can make the things they say come off so harshly sometimes but they almost never mean it that way. The good side of this tho is that they are someone who will always be honest with you they just need better delivery sometimes.
☁️ Having Neptune in the first house mean’s constantly having other people project onto you. They might have an entirely different version of who they think you are based on assumptions. That’s why being able to differentiate between true friends with this is so important.
☁️ Libra moons aren’t as emotionally put together as they look on the outside (gives I’m my own therapist energy). If you have a libra moon friend give them a hug.
☁️ Sag moons are also like this but in a different way, they’ll just be either very optimistic around their friends or will make jokes or do dumb shit to make other people laugh when in reality it’s partly to cope and mask their pain, check on these friends please 😭
☁️ Sag moons traveling to another place will not solve your problems chill on your escapism (again roasting myself rip).
💗💗💗For those who made it to the end thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it <3. This was kind of short but just jotted these down the other day and wanted to share. Also, feel free to comment any suggestions of the types of posts you’d like to see and I’ll do my best💗💗💗
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n3ptoonz · 2 months
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Hello! I saw your most recent headcanon list thing with the Earthrealm guys being caught Slonking it Silly Style™ and uh. I was just wondering if you'd be willing to do something similar with the Outworld guys as well? Obviously you don't have to if you don't want to, but I think it would be neat! Thank you so much in advance! I love your work :)
deep, dramatic sigh. (kidding anon tysm i gush over comments like this ily smoochhhh) also the terminology made me laugh out loud ty for that
Shang Tsung
kinda sorta didn't gaf. who's to say he didn't want you to hear him. the world may never know
you were to report to him about some findings for his experiments and there he was, leaning over the table and straight up cranking it over a bucket (he's odd like that) honestly when you acknowledge your own presence he's like... can i help you?? you see i'm busy???
but at the same time he's like hold up i have a fine specimen here to help me out here...he's leaving here with SOMETHING (studio laughter)
Rain
i don't think he'd care either if you walked in on him. in fact, he might welcome it. he's used to having his own space, but he doesn't mind sharing it with people he's ok with being around. yes that includes you (is it only you? not even he knows yet)
day 8163 of using Rain's arrogance to push my narrative that he's not only in love with himself but how he looks in the mirror. you definitely walked in on him wanking it in the mirror and he'd freeze but recover so quick
ain't no way you're leaving here after you just caught him though. how else will his problems get solved? you went and made him hard all over again!
Reptile
syzoth has two, let's get that out the way. AND he uses both hands for them LMAOO
president of syzoth is a lil subby bitch society. so when you catch him tugging on both and reduced to a pathetic mess from his own hands??? he's frozen and quite literally has no clue what to do. he's sweaty, there's tears in his eyes, and his fangs are much more pronounced than usual
once you give him the green light that you're into whatever tf he was just doing watch him crawl over to you on all fours and hug your legs, practically begging you to touch him
Havik
expect this smug fuck to claim he wanted this to happen. dude was hunched over and going at it behind his own desk, grunting like a cave man who discovered self pleasure for the first time
1000% expect him to demand you help him, but instead it's after he froze for like 5 seconds and then tried to play it off
he would also be internally shocked when agree to finish the job, but on the outside it's like "that's what i thought...now get over here" whole time he's jumping up and down and twirling in his brain
Reiko
it's already rare that he has time to himself and definitely RARELY has time to be with you for an extended period of time, so you catching him when you wanted to surprise him with your presence it triggered his fight or fight LMAO
legit laughed at the thought of him jumping up from his chair hands ready to be thrown...but his dick is swinging PLSSSSSS
he's like well shit now he deserves your help after you almost got two pieced by your own boyfriend...but who's complaining?!
General Shao
this man weirdly reminds me of bowser sometimes. with that being said i think he'd do a BUAHA as a shocked sound when you catch him thwoping the schlong
as much as i can't fucking stand him he does look a lil better in this game i will admit. i'm not gonna sit up here and lie, he def has a HUGE wanker innit. so you didn't miss shit when you walked into his chambers
he would also demand your help. but if you have a lil push back just for fun, he'd eventually say please and be all soft and shit. why? cause it's you god damn it!
Baraka
let's be fr. truly i do not think mk1 baraka would masterbate simply bc he's like depressed all the time😭but for the sake of shits and gigs, ill humor y'all
let's say he hasn't seen you in a while and misses you dearly. he knew you were on a quest for a while, and he was very pent up... so what better way to release stress other than sparring! oh. not enough? time for another type spar 😈
if this were old baraka i'd say he has two 👁️ but since this version of tarkat is a disease let's say it made the skin around his wee like ribbed or something ya SO when you caught him he was in a straight up panic and apologizing profusely but once you calm him down and tell him you're glad he missed you so much, he's like oh shit...well help me out then...only if you want to!
a/n: i did it y'all FUCK. my bad for taking so long to release this i'm a perfectionist to a fault💀
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undiscovered-horizon · 10 months
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Return to sender - Kaz Brekker x Reader
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[graphic descriptions of violence/injury]
SUMMARY: Someone from your past keeps sending you unambiguously romantic letters. While you think of them as nothing beyond an inconvenience, Kaz has a different opinion.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.9k
A/N: I'm going through the first editorial correction for my novel and as it turns out, I can't speak my own mother tongue lmao
Kaz has an eye for details. Whether it’s a pattern or an overlooked design, he always notices. That set of skills, either he learned them or was born with them, made it painfully obvious to him that your foul mood coincided with correspondence he never saw you actually read. The letter usually ends up in the nearest fireplace, its secrets never uncovered and you maunder around the club looking for a fight or a strong drink. A much bigger problem, however, was the fact that if you were in a sour mood, Kaz would become exceptionally chippy without an apparent cause. ‘Care for my investment’ he calls it, which makes a rather amusing euphemism.
In any event, he knows that the letter should arrive today. Exactly seven weeks had passed since the last time some mysterious correspondence pissed you off and the sender, as far as Kaz has noticed, is like clockwork. Strangely enough, he can’t recall a day when the letter should arrive that you’d come to the club already annoyed as though he has become privy to a rather obvious pattern that you remain oblivious to. If so, he has even more advantage - he can solve this inconvenience behind your back, in case you’d try to dismiss him. He wouldn’t listen anyway, of course. Not when it comes to you.
Knowing very well that you have a habit of arriving shortly after Inej, he’s quick to find the thief before you even get a chance of catching wind of his scheme. She’s fixing her clothes when she spots him hastily limping towards her with his face turned nearly into a snarl. A hand brushes through his hair. He’s agitated. But Inej knows better than to make the first move against the unmovable mountain. Kaz sought her out, after all, and if he means business, he won’t waste time.
And he does just as she thought. Speaking in a low tone, Kaz makes her part of his conspiracy: “Inej, I need you to do something but no one else can know. Someone will deliver a letter today. Follow them and find out as much as you can,” his voice is stern, not accepting refusal. The matter appears urgent, of utter importance.
Her keen gaze studies his face for a moment, looking for any way even the slightest tick of muscles could reveal a further piece of the mystery she isn’t yet privy to. “Is this about the new job we’re doing?” She elegantly manoeuvres around the subject.
Kaz knows what she’s trying to do. He clenches his jaw and gives her a blank, although somewhat impatient, look before slowly answering: “It’s rather loosely related.”
This is enough to put her curiosity on hold - for now, at least. The unmovable mountain remains, well, unmovable. Inej nods. “I’m on it.”
The moment she ends her sentence, the door to the club opens with a creek echoing through the otherwise empty venue, immediately earning the undivided attention of Kaz and Inej. The sound of heels against the wooden floor is unmistakable as is the fitting, rather short, coat. Inej smiles, stifling laughter as she notices Kaz immediately straightening his back when he sees you.
There’s a certain spring to your step, one that Kaz has learned to associate with complacency. Although this joyous aura is making his mind turn into quicksand swallowing anything coherent, he’s got enough grip on his thoughts to render his theory proved - you really do not have any idea that the letters come regularly. 
With a triumphant grin, you wave a scroll in his face. “I had a hunch and did some browsing at the city archives. You’re going to love it.”
Inej is gone and the only thing Kaz can do at the moment is wait along with trying his best not to think about this mail fiasco. But considering you’ll spend the entire day a mere inch or two away from him, he’s hardly going to do much thinking anyway. 
“Let’s see it then,” Kaz interposes before turning around and walking back to his office. 
Making his way to Brekker’s office, Jesper examined the expensive stationery from every side and angle. No matter the perspective, the cursive letters on the front still spell out your name. Truthfully, he does that every time you receive mail, mainly because of how little you talk about the possible sender. There’s always a huff, an eye-roll and the envelope ends up turned into ashes, without any further explanation. You become short-tempered for the rest of the day and go ballistic on anyone trying to inquire about the mysterious correspondence. As much entertainment as it usually brings Jesper, he’s smart enough to know when to stop poking the bear.
Jesper knocks on the door but opens them right after - announcing his arrival rather than asking for permission to enter. 
“...smuggling through the sewers.” He hears you finishing your sentence.
Both you and Kaz simultaneously tear away your gaze from the maps scattered on the table and bore your eyes into Jesper with anticipation. He lifts the letter, wriggling his wrist slightly, and immediately your expression falls. You clench your fist. A contemptuous grimace creeps onto your face.
“Letter for you,” he announces.
“By the Saints, not this again,” you whisper and roll your eyes.
“What do you mean again?” Jesper asks casually, half expecting you to break his hand and half hoping for an answer. Today, as it turns out, is his lucky day.
“A friend once convinced me to go to some socialite high tea with her. I met someone there, we wrote to each other a few times and then he started to be obnoxious, the whole ‘woe is me’ lark.” The memory must still be vivid to you as you let out an annoyed sigh. “He claimed he can’t live without me while never spelling my name correctly. But since I value myself a little too much to waste my time on pity parties, I simply stopped replying. The last letter I sent him, I don’t know, three years ago? And he just keeps coming back.” You clench your jaw, clearly stopping yourself from a string of profanities considered obscene even in this company.
Jesper puts on a playful grin. “You know, you never struck me as someone who’d have a secret admirer.”
Your irritated gaze makes him equally amused and nervous. “He’s not exactly secret, is he? More of a returning cockroach infestation. Worry not, boys, I’ll just burn this one like the rest and we can all forget about this little perplexity.”
“Come on, you’re not even a little bit curious about what’s inside?” Jesper coaxes as he hands you the letter.
“Believe me when I tell you that I don’t give a rat’s bald ass about this man and his pathetic wax poetic.” You snatch the envelope, all the while looking at your friend with squinted, piercing eyes. Considering who you are, a complete lack of curiosity whatsoever might as well be a symptom of a lethal disease.
In that short moment, when the stationery goes from Jesper’s hand into yours, Kaz watches the letter as closely as he can. Smooth paper, probably expensive. Careful lettering, written with patience and thoughtfulness. An aroma of mint and tobacco lingers on the parchment. The stamp has the current date on it and the postal code is only a few numbers away from the club’s - whoever sent it is in Ketterdam and quite close by.
Kaz makes those little observations just in time because you throw the letter into the fireplace behind him, without even glancing at the paper. The flames grow for a few seconds, devouring the dry stationery. Soon, there’s no evidence that any mail has been delivered to you on this day.
“Now, where were we?” You clap your hands. “Ah, sewers.” Jesper takes the change of subject as his cue to leave but you stop him right when he pushes down the door handle. “Oh, and Jesper? If you tell Inej, I’m ripping your arm off and beating you to death with it.”
He looks at you over his shoulder, a newfound sense of anxiety turning his vivid amusement into somewhat tame courtesy, leaving his smile unfaltering but tearing away the genuine joy behind it. “I will keep this enlightening piece of advice in mind, thank you.”
The door clicks as Jesper closes it behind himself. Returning to your previous engagement, you stumble upon Brekker’s stern gaze of disapproval. 
“Do not maim my investments.” Although it’s supposed to be a scolding or a threat, it comes out with a certain note of disinterest.
“Don’t try playing all nice, Kaz. You and I both know you’d watch for like ten minutes before stepping in.”
His gloved finger taps the map. “Sewers.” 
You mumble something along the lines of ‘yes, sir’ and pick up the single-handed divider again. Kaz examines your face out of the corner of his eye. Judging by your casual demeanour, the palm’s length between your heads is of no bother to you. Maybe you’re just too busy counting the segments with the divider. When you’re done, you reach for the other side of the desk, for a moment leaving broody Kaz to the, surprisingly cold, lukewarm air filling the room.
This day just can’t seem to end for Burr Lowther. First, he had to take his regular trip into the filth of the Barrel, he shudders at the memory, only to then spend another ten hours at the sewing workshop. Being a foreman pays exceptionally well and perhaps this is the only reason he’s still putting up with those lazy needlewomen. 
Putting his well-kept coat on the hanger by the front door, Burr lets out a sigh of relief - compared to the factory, his house is a quiet oasis. He remembers to take out a pouch and a box of expensive cigars from his coat. Without much thinking, he opens the small bag and puts another leaf of mint between his teeth. What started first as an addition to his personal hygiene, has quickly become a habit impossible to kill. Now used to the strong, chilly sensation on his tongue, he’s grown to like it. 
The house is drowning in darkness. Dim, yellow light from the streetlamps crawling in through the windows is barely enough to let him make his way around the furniture. Foreman Lowther is yet to start the fire in his living room but he needs to be quick - if he stalls too long his joints will begin to hurt. Even with laudanum, the ache is bound to keep him up for hours and that’s something he can’t afford. But first, he needs some light to be able to get the necessary things.
Chewing on the herb, Burr walks to the table across the room from the fireplace. He puts the new box of cigars down and begins looking for something to light the oil lamp. Once he blindly finds a box of matches, his muscle memory does most of the job - he’s lit up the lamp far too many times to think about the actions. In swift, mechanical motions, Burr takes off the chimney, lights the wick and puts the glass part back on. The fire brightens the rest of the table, reminding the foreman that he forgot to put away the made-to-order McKinnon & Co. stationery. He pushes the paper farther away from the lamp, just in case.
Burr’s knees make a cracking noise when he crouches in front of the fireplace. Carefully, he lights a match and puts it between logs and old newspapers. The fire smoulders for a moment, balancing between starting and being put out, before a bigger flame begins gnawing at the dry wood and paper. 
Foreman Lowther is about to stand up when something hits the side of his head, making his face clash with the seat of a nearby armchair. Scurrying and turning around, he sees an outline of a man, looking more like a feverish mare of the night than a real human. He’s thin and tall, dressed rather elegantly. The model crow on his cane glistens in the newly started fire.
“Who are you?” Burr’s voice cracks, giving away his panic.
“A scorned businessman, Burr Lowther,” Kaz explains slowly.
The foreman climbs backwards into the armchair. It’s difficult to look imposing while sitting beside a fireplace but his fear is far too severe to let the man stand on his own two feet.
“I’ve no business with you!” he yells. A few droplets of spit fly out of his mouth. “Get out!” Burr’s shaky hand points vaguely in the direction of the front door but Kaz, as it seems, is not going anywhere just yet.
In slow steps, Kaz gets closer to Burr, the difference in height painting him even more menacing. Lowther’s hand falls limp on a small table meant for trays with food.
“Perhaps you don’t. But I have plenty with you.”
Before foreman Lowther can ask another question, Brekker drives a sharp blade through the man’s palm, pinning it to the wooden counter. A howl of pain cuts through the night, scaring away the birds sitting outside the windows. Thick, crimson blood spills from the wound, falling to the floor in long drops. The fireplace’s flame glistens in the growing puddle, the reflection dances in morbid anticipation.
Kaz walks over to the table with the oil lamp. The first thing that catches his eye is the ivory paper. Somehow, he stifles the visceral reaction it elicits from him. Grabbing the wad of stationery, he folds it a few times and puts it in the inner pocket of his coat. Then his gaze trails towards the wooden box of cigars. The name of the company, Starling, is burned in cursive lettering on the front. In a swift movement, Kaz slides the package open, knowing exactly what he’s going to find inside - a cigar cutter. For people who can afford Starling tobacco products, it definitely doesn’t befit to chew off the end.
Firelight cascades off the metal cutter when Kaz turns back towards Burr. The man’s eyes widen in panic, recognizing the sharp device put against him.
“No, sir,” Burr begs with a frantic shake of his head. “Oh, Saints, please, no! Don’t! I’m begging you, sir! Please, please! No, please!”
Brekker’s face doesn’t change its indifferent expression. The pleading is not putting him off, never faltering his already-made decision. Perhaps, if it isn’t too morbid to consider, he’s enjoying having someone at his mercy. The cigar cutter clicks quietly as Kaz closes it a few times to check the state of the mechanism.
Kaz makes his way back to the foreman. Casually, he puts his cane against the table but away from the nailed palm, careful not to get it dirty. Then, he snatches Burr’s other hand, the swiftness diminishing all doubts that he’s inexperienced in bringing suffering.
“You have laid your hands on something that isn’t yours, Lowther,” Brekker explains as he forces one of the man’s fingers through the cutter’s opening. “Now you must pay for it.”
A muscle in his face ticks as he presses the cigar cutter. Burr howls in agony, tears streaming down his face. The finger falls to the floor with a wet slap as blood begins to pour. The white tip of the bone sticks out from the pulsating flesh, glistening in the warm, dim light of the burning fireplace.
In a feverish delirium, Lowther mumbles something under his nose, the string of incomprehensible words sometimes interrupted by sobs. Kaz can understand only two things from the ramblings of a madman: ‘wench’ and ‘reply’. Scarce information but he hardly needs more.
“Wench?” he repeats in a low voice.
With a snap of his wrist, Kaz twists the knife still residing in the man’s hand. A bone cracks. But there’s no scream this time - not an ounce of strength left in the victim. Lonely tears stream down his grey face, mixing with cold sweat as he blankly stares ahead. A gloved hand yanks his head back by the hair, forcing delirious Burr to look into Brekker’s eyes. They look darker than they should, clouded with something far too horrible to be considered human.
“Not only did you lay your filthy hands on something of mine,” Kaz’s voice is low enough to resemble a growl as though something carnal inside him has finally woken from its slumber, “but you also dare insult her.”
Burr makes a strange guttural noise, something between a gag reflex and a murmur, as another one of his fingers is cut off. Considering his vacant expression, it’s hard to say whether his consciousness even registered the loss.
Kaz tosses away the cigar cutter. It clutters and clicks falling in the largely unknown corner of the room. Reaching inside his coat, he pulls out the folded stationery. Pressing tightly on Burr’s cheeks, he forces the man’s mouth open.
“I don’t think you will be needing this anymore.”
Even if foreman Lowther was in his right mind at the moment, there wouldn’t be much he could do to prevent Kaz from shoving the dry paper down his throat. A match, a spark, a smoulder - the ivory stationery is burning inside Burr’s mouth.
Leaving Burr Lowther to his own devices, Kaz Brekker leaves the house, joining the otherwise grey and indifferent citizens of Ketterdam. The sunrise is just a few hours away. He’s making his way back to the club, uninterrupted and unbothered, to enjoy another day of your hardly divided attention.
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AITA for being in a shared apartment too much?
🏠✨to find this again.
I (27F) have lived in an apartment (2 bed 1 bath) with the same roommate (26F) for 3.5 years. Let’s call her Jane. We’ve always gotten along well and have been (from my perspective, anyway) compatible roommates. For the past year, however, Jane has been increasingly unhappy about me being in our apartment at the same time as her. She’ll either leave the apartment just before or just after I get home, or hole up in her room, or stay out late until she thinks I’ll be asleep, or just be noticeably bummed about me being around.
We’ve talked about it once, and her response was essentially “it’s not you, it’s me”—that she just likes time to have the apartment to herself and putter around, especially after traveling or being out of town. (She will usually avoid me for about five days after coming back from a trip.) She also said that me staying in my room and out of the common areas during certain times is not enough—I need to be out of the apartment entirely. Last summer, we agreed that I would be out of the apartment from 11am-3pm on Sundays so that she has that guaranteed alone time in the apartment in addition to the other times I’m out of the apartment for work or meeting up with friends. She hasn’t told me explicitly, but this seems to not be enough.
Points of note:
- We are both graduate students with fairly flexible schedules. We’re on campus a minimum of 3-4 hours 2 or 3 days a week to teach and are usually on campus additional days for meetings or events—but (technically speaking) our job is to research and write. We’re not typically “at the office” from 9–5.
- I work from home as often as I can. When I’m not on campus to teach or attend an event, I’ll typically just come back home. We don’t get paid much, so I like to be home for meals to avoid buying lunch or paying for a coffee in order to work at a cafe. So, admittedly, I am often at the apartment for most of the day.
- For my part, I don’t mind Jane being in the apartment at the same time as me, and I honestly miss being able to chat with her during our breaks from work or study. So this is not really a mutual dislike.
- Jane is not doing anything nefarious in the apartment while I’m gone (it’s small enough that I would know if she was cooking meth or something lmao). She just genuinely wants to be alone to hang out in the apartment.
- I don’t typically hang out in the common areas for work or play, and I don’t leave my own stuff there. When I’m at home I tend to stay in my room, except when cooking.
- I have made no major life changes during the time she began to dislike having me in the apartment. Whenever I ask her if there’s any particular behavior I could change, she says there isn’t. During this same span of time, however, Jane has been under increased stress due to academic deadlines and some extra jobs, which is probably a contributing factor.
I’m graduating next spring and plan to move to live with my partner in a different city—so the problem is solved in the long term. But I’m curious whether I’m missing some key roommate etiquette.
Is it an asshole move to spend most of my time in a shared apartment?
What are these acronyms?
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rottmntsimp · 3 months
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Donnie x (gn) reader, where the reader is feeling particularly self concious? feeling as tho they don't contribute enough to the team due to not having mystic powers or not knowing how to fight, maybe they feel as tho they get in the way a lot? I know donnie isn't always great with feelings but I feel like he would relate to this problem and would know how to solve it in his own special way?
Much needed reassurance
Donnie x Insecure!Reader
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TW: A bit of cursing (projecting cuz it's just smth i do when feeling a strong emotion lmao), using the lord's name in vain ( bro im atheist idk if this is a tw?), uh light jealousy (APRIL MAH QUEEN <33), mentions of stitching up cuts ig, light angst with fluff end <3 Oh and a pretty rushed ending lmao. Plus some slight ADHD projecting?? [Yes I got this req in September. Shh-] Thanks to @sleepytime-fics for title inspiration <3 /p
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Donnie
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You wince, letting out a hiss, as your cut stung in pain. Peeking out from in between your fingers, you see Donnie’s frown, not processing any of the words he rambled on to you. He let go of your hand, putting down the bandages, before moving onto your face to disinfect the scrapes along the side of your face, making you flinch in pain, listening to him chastise you for how careless you were.
“-I thought I’d told you to stay in corners. They can’t sneak up on you, if your back is against a wall.”
Sinking deeper into the mattress of the bed, you sigh, running a finger over the bandaging on your forearm, only for Donnie to slap your hand away. Rolling your eyes, you let him patch up your face, avoiding eye contact, because you knew as soon as you did, shit would hit the fan.
After what seemed like hours of nonstop admonishing and multiple rolls of bandages (which in all reality was only a few minutes), Donnie finally packs up the first aid kit, having finished patching you up. You stretch a little, before reaching for your phone, which lay on the far end of the mattress. Just as you were about to pick it up, a metal arm suddenly swipes it off of the sheets, holding it up.
“Hey-”
As you go to reach for the phone again, he just brings the phone higher up, farther out of your reach.
“So…” the mutant started, busying himself with putting supplies back into the first aid kit. “Leo informed me you, uh…got jumped-”
“Please, don’t remind me-” you sighed, the memory of being unable to defend yourself flashing behind your closed eyelids. Not only had Leo been struggling to take care of his share of the ninjas, he had to make sure you weren’t getting hurt too.
 Opening your eyes once more, you frown at the floor, listening to Donnie go on.
“Scoff,” Donnie scoffs, voicing his actions, “Well, if you let me finish, you would've heard me say ‘-you got jumped, are you feeling ok?’ It’s unlike you to get taken advantage of like this in combat.”
“Stop it,” You mumble, not wanting to hear about how you were unable to help, frustration rising as Donnie went on, not having heard you.
“I mean, it was just a couple of foot ninjas, and statistically speaking, you’ve done better before-”
“Donnie-” You frown, speaking a bit louder, but your words went unheard as Donnie’s rambling went on.
“I’m just thankful Nardo was there for you, don’t tell him I said that though-”
“Donnie!”
He freezes, facing you as his rambing comes to an abrupt end. Seeing the frown on your face as you shifted in your seat, your head held down, Donnie was riddled with guilt. “Were you,” he clears his throat, “Were you about to say something…?”
Silence.
That’s all he got in return, before soft mumbles could be heard, “It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve told me, it just won’t get in my head alright? I’m not a ninja, I’ve never gotten training-,” you muttered, as Donnie stopped what he was doing, focusing on your words- “Hell, I don’t even have a proper weapon!” you scoff, gesturing to Donnie’s tech bo, which lay messily on his desk, piles of unorganized blueprints and tech scattered around it. “Even April has one! April!” 
“Well, that is an issue can easily be resolved by simply paying a visit to the local sports store-”
Donnie’s words were cut short by the glare you gave him, as you went on. “But that makes perfect sense, since she’s just…so perfect,” you chuckled dryly, jealousy creeping into your voice, or maybe it was just self-pity.
Running a hand through your hair, you pause to take a deep breath, knowing you’ve already said too much; but fuck it, if you were going to get reprimanded for something out of your control, might as well let out some of those pent up feelings…right?
The only noise that could be heard was the soft whirring of the vents filtering air, and the sound of you guys’ breathing. The silence was eating you up from the inside, uneasiness hanging in the air. After a whole two minutes of silent torture, Donnie lets out a sigh, biting his tongue so that he doesn’t say anything he might regret, before finally speaking again.
“Where…where are you going with this?”
“Fucking christ, Donnie-” you snap, your head in your hands, as you let out a strong exhale. Looking up at him, you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize your voice, as a lump formed in your throat.
You mumbled under your breath, trying not to break down as tears of frustration formed in the corners of your eyes, your vision slowly going blurry. Why? The hell if you knew, all you could process was the fact that you were practically useless, and if that wasn’t enough to make you break down…
“I’m not as strong as you guys and I sure as hell don’t have any mystic powers,” you say, as a tear finally falls. One turns to two, and two turns to four, and before you know it, tears streamed silently down your face, as you tried to stop; but you both knew it was pointless.
Panic flashed behind his eyes as he noticed you crying. What was it you do when people cry? Talk to them? No, no, he was pretty sure you give them space.
“I always need at least two people out with me when I join you guys for patrol, and I always get hurt, and end up being more of a burden than a help…” You clear your throat, cursing at yourself as your voice cracks.
Once again, silence.
Looking down at the floor, you sniffled, using the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe your tears away. White floods your vision, looking up, you see one of Donnie’s mechanical spider arms holding a tissue out in front of you, his eyes averted to the side.
Nodding your thanks, you blow your nose, as quiet ensued once more. You both sat there, your minds occupied by your own racing thoughts respectively.
After what seemed like hours, Donnie spoke up, his voice soft, but firm, as though he were deep in thought, “I…apologize, for not realizing how you felt earlier. I should have been more observant, I should have been able to notice how you felt about all of this much earlier on… I’m sorry for being a terrible partner-”
“Donnie-” You just sigh, the adrenaline from earlier wearing off, as a wave of exhaustion washed over you. “I’m not calling you a bad partner, I’m just saying that…maybe I shouldn’t go out on missions with you guys anymore. I’ll just hold you all back, and-” 
“Hold us back?-” Donnie interrupts, his face going from that of understanding and thoughtful to utterly flabbergasted. Standing up from his seat on the mattress, he has a robotic arm shoot out of his battle shell and yank a chair over, as he took a seat across from your place on the mattress. He faced you, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, renewed confusion apparent, “You believe that you’re…holding us back?”
“...Well, yeah-”
“SCOFF! Never have I heard such malarkey- Oh Y/N, you are anything but deadweight!-”
You could only listen as he went on, giving up on trying to get your point across as he never gave you the chance to. Yet despite the affirmations, a nagging feeling stuck in the back of your mind, refusing to leave as he rambled on about your strengths, physically and intellectually.
His voice became nothing but a soft hum in the background, accompanying the buzz of the vents, as you spaced out. Why was he doing this? You aren’t worth the struggle, the effort… He’s always had to help you catch up, get up to speed on things. Homework, fights, hell- even simple things like staying on task, giving you something to do, to think about…
“-And just because you don't have mystic potential, doesn't mean you aren't a valuable asset to our group. There are plenty of other ways you make up for it..."
The nerve of this hypocrite; saying you’re useful while still in doubt of his own abilities.
"I mean," Donnie went on, putting a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him, "It's not like you're the only human in our little posse. April's our friend too, and she's just as important as the rest of us-"
"She doesn't count-" You snap, your voice raising to a higher volume. Donnie flinched, his hand retracting in shock. Wincing, you mumble a quiet apology, feeling a wave of disappointment and regret wash over you before going on.
"April's been training with you guys since she’s met you, she doesn't count…" You mumbled, trying to keep control of how loud you spoke. “She’s been there since the beginning, basically on you guys’ level. She’s known you all since you were young, grew up with you guys, trained with you guys, fights with you guys…all while kicking ass and looking good…all I do is stand in the back and cheer you guys on…”
“Oh my sweet Y/N,” Donnie sighs, looking up at you again. “What will it take for you to understand that moral support is better than no support whatsoever?” The pleading look in his eyes, the desperation in his voice for you to understand just how valuable you are didn’t go overlooked by you, as you just sighed in response.
“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, darling. You are as valuable to our bunch as any of us are. Learning to fight takes time, time which you never gave yourself, which I’m gladly willing to change.
“And as for getting hurt…” Donnie put a hand on yours, making you look at him as he let himself smile, “I guess we’ll just have to start training.”
Taglist [ask if you want to be added!]:
@lemme-be-cringe-damnit @sleepytime-fics @ray-of-midnight-storm @hamthepan @charismakat
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tbposting · 6 months
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Thoughts on them meshing the Acrane and League lore? I am really unhappy with the decision because it means some of my favorite champions will be completely reworked. I honestly just wished they kept the two separate. I also think it's a horrible move on a story telling front, too, because now the Arcane team will be restricted by canon which is what made Arcane so fun and good in the first place. They got to experiment and explore characters and I am terrified for the future of Arcane after this decision.
Overall, I think it was a horrible decision and I can only hope they decide to go back on it, but I highly doubt it. Apparently Riot just really hates its writers and it's lore community lmao
It is a really, really bad decision, yeah. Arcane's greatest strength was arguably that it could tell good and interesting stories about its characters entirely unburdened by 13 years of shambolic canon MESS from the main game. Its version of Viktor simply could not ever have happened if Arcane had to respect canon, it could NEVER have done what it did with Singed or Heimerdinger or the Void.
The way they're trying to solve that is by saying "okay, ARCANE represents the canon now, and we'll change THE MAIN GAME to suit it" but that just creates exactly the same problem the other way around. Now the canon of the main game (and Legends of Runeterra and the Forge games) is going to be completely fucked by being forced to be shackled to whatever Arcane wants to do.
Arcane is predicated, it is a huge and important central part of its canon that magic is rare, that it is incredibly special and unusual, and that spellcasters and sorcerers are essentially fucking cryptids to the rest of the world. That is WHY being able to harness magic through Hextech is such a revolutionary technology, because it makes magical power accessible not just to the very few, but to the world.
But hang on a fucking second, the premise of DEMACIA AS A REGION is that magic is common, that it is normal and abundant and plentiful enough that the magical population of the country can launch a full scale insurrection to claim their rights.
The Demacian storyline requires it to be true that mages are commonly born into ordinary families, that everyone in the country knows someone who's a mage or someone whose kid or cousin is a mage, and that mages and magicians are commonly understood to be living in various states of hiding all throughout the country as a normal part of their communities.
And before anyone goes "yes but Piltover was founded to get away from the destruction of the Rune Wars so..." remember, so was Demacia, and it was founded inside a forest of magic-suppressing petricite trees.
Which means if Arcane is the central fount of canon now, Demacia... simply cannot exist in that universe. Not in any way that we would recognize it. And neither can any of the other regions, really. If magic is rare, mysterious and unknown to the vast majority of ordinary people, then Shurima doesn't work. Bilgewater doesn't work. The Freljord doesn't work. Not as they exist currently.
So either the main canon gets CATASTROPHICALLY retconned to hell to suit Arcane, or else Arcane has to very awkwardly retcon its own foundational premise to be like "uuuuh actually magic is normal and common in far away places in the world and everyone there is totally chill about it, and it's JUST Piltover that happens to randomly be founded in a place where mages don't get born and also they never travel to Piltover and also nobody from Piltover ever travels to places where mages are common."
Like, there simply is not a good way to merge the world state of Arcane with the world state of Runeterra as a whole without completely destroying important parts of either, and what gets me is there isn't even any real benefit to fucking doing it.
Seriously! What's the benefit? What does anyone get out of doing this? The only actual tangible benefit is that it will eventually (after like five years of constant retcons) be slightly easier for people who watched Arcane to understand what's happening on Summoner's Rift, which... who cares? The whole point of Arcane is that it expanded the reach of Runeterra to people who don't give a shit what League of Legends is! People who watched Arcane aren't going to tune in to Worlds and be like "oh my god that's Viktor getting a pentakill! That's the blorbo from my show, hooray, I am going to buy SKT T1 merch about it!"
This decision reeks from a million miles away of executive bullshit. It reeks of some bro in a graphic tee under a suit jacket wearing ugly $1000 sneakers being like "we should totally unify our brand appeal under a single consolidated IP umbrella to maximize audience engagement metrics" without any creative understanding of why different storytelling works for different mediums and you can't just find-replace a few keywords to turn 13 years of MOBA canon into TV show canon.
It's such a fundamental failure to understand that there is POWER in telling different stories in different mediums. Fucking Disney+-ass MCU-brained brand thinking is what it is.
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