I thought this said fanfic and I had to re-read it, Hello? Sir? You want us to write what now?? Is it Sheers x Heaney?? Is it x reader? Are you into that sir?????? 💀
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i mean what did they think would happen after november 5th and everything leading up to it. how did they think we'd react to all that and then to the finale
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New rule. If you're talking about a spiced tea drink, you're not allowed to be smug about knowing that you don't need to say "tea" again if the only indicator you're using is "chai". You've already ignored the meaning of the word by treating it as something that means "contains spices"
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you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.
you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.
instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.
you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.
your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.
because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.
so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.
all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.
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This might be a half-baked theory, but I wonder how much of the "think of the children!!" ideals that are almost... aimed at women rely on the idea of women as Forever Children.
What I notice is that a lot of these ideas of corruption in youth are feminized in a way that evokes motherhood, but I also notice that many people blur the lines between women or anybody forced into or expected to be women and children so that they are as one.
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does anyone else get so upset when you think about all the things that happened to your f/o... all the things they went through? all the things they haven't healed from? the pain that they may still be enduring? how you can do your best to help them but you can't protect them from everything. so you just love them the ways they needed before, how they deserved. and you see them happy because they finally accept, at least in some ways, that they do deserve it. they deserve love like all beings do
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"It's Sunday, or as I like to call it, Magolor day!"
Totally forgot to share this earlier but Hi Howdy here's Magolor in all his wizardpilled glory asdlfkjn
Photography: @alagaesia-overlord
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I want to be needed. Not like, in a codependent way. I value my individual personhood too much for that. But for her to be possessive. Territorial. A little obsessed even. For us to go out and she won't stop giving subtle reminders that she's claimed this butch ass. Grabbing my arm. A light hand on my back. A little too dramatic/loud kiss on my cheek in front of others. Jumping on my shoulders when she gets excited. Pouting when I don't hold her hand for a long enough period of time. Sitting herself in my lap when at the bar regardless of how red my face gets.
I want to go to the office, and when I go to check up on phone notifications she's just dropped little love notes. Maybe something to tease me, making it impossible to focus in the meeting I have in 20 minutes. For her to test my patience the entire work day whether it's in-office or at home. Because she knows the very second I'm alone with her she's mine.
I want to have to accommodate fashion choices because "ah fuck, I didn't realize she'd left a bite mark there". Because of course she did, I let her. She claws, bites, and yearns for my body and ensures the marks are there to show it. I don't like pain, but when it's that. When it's because something in her so primally needs me that it's like a vampire with blood, how could I say no. I'm hers after all. Hers.
I want to be at home, relaxing on my night to myself while she's out with the girls, and she sends me photo updates the entire time. Not as surveillance, but as a "yes I'm dressed this slutty but I'm still yours". To know that she can go out and be as sloppy as she likes and I know with certainty she's coming home to me at the end of the day to get worshipped. Destroyed. Devoured.
I feel so confident in situations like that. I stand tall. Take more risks. Drive myself to achieve more. I'm louder, laugh more, and more outgoing. Because she's claimed me. The way she acts some people will think it's a d/s relationship where I own her, but that couldn't be further from the truth. She's claimed me, and I handed her the lead with joyous serenity.
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eiffel and lovelace have approximately 80% similar personal styles, which would delight him and horrify her. like, tank tops, cargo shorts, flannel jacket, same kind of old sneakers and sandals, etc. lovelace's fashion sense is just a little sportier; some basketball shorts, jerseys, and new york liberty logo tanks in place of eiffel's walmart discount rack selection of pop culture tees. that kind of thing. if hera could dress the way she wanted to, she'd have a very... folk festival woman at a farmer's market type of vibe. colorful, flowy, nature-y patterns. but minkowski is so much harder to imagine in casual clothing. a big part of it is how much she's separated her work life from her personal life, but even then... she just feels like someone who is practical about it to a fault. she doesn't dress badly, she's always put together, she just dresses. kind of like a mom in an old navy catalog.
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