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#live smart
andthebeanstalk · 10 months
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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aishwariyalaxmi · 1 year
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My Review of Teja Lele's Book 'Live Smart'
Read on for my review of Teja Lele's book ' Live Smart'
Live smart: 100 hacks for a healthier and happier life by Teja Lele called out to me since it promises to make the reader more self-sufficient and independent if the reader follows the hacks and DIY instructions. We have had an old copy of ‘Hints n’ Helps’ – Household dictionary – A complete guide to saving money on house repairs and maintenance published in 1988 in Miami, Florida that my dad…
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homkamiro · 8 days
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Answering some questions regarding TF2 × MLP AU!!! This crossover absolutely rotted my brain and I can't.stop thinking about it
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teruthecreator · 2 years
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toby fox is literally paywalling his game in the best way possible rn. hundreds of lore-hungry people are flooding the website and emptying their pockets (for charity), DESPERATE to see what kind of wack bullshit he’s embedded into this thing
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sunshines-child · 1 month
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Circe, Witch of Aiaia
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I have drawn Circe so many times and i've finally settle on a design that is largely different but I like a lot
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mediumgayitalian · 21 days
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“Did you wash your face?”
“Yes.”
“Brush your teeth?”
“Yes.”
“Brush your hair?”
“…Yes.”
As soon as he says it, he coughs. A freckled hand moves to itch at his throat, rub at slowly puffing eyes.
“You, William Andrew,” Lee says, grinning, “are a liar.”
Will scowls. “Am not!”
The effect of his glare is significantly undermined by the redness of his eyes and the cough that interrupts him mid-sentence. Shaking his head, Lee leans into his bunk and scoops his brother up, heading to the Big House. He slides his hand in tangled, curly hair as Will rests his head on his shoulder, still breathing heavily.
“I can feel the knots in your hair, doofus.”
Will curls up tighter in his hold, muffling another cough in his elbow. “Nuh-uh.” He sniffles. “Hey, Lee, am I dying?”
Lee snorts. “No, you’re not dying.” He ducks into the back entrance of the infirmary, flicking on the lights and setting Will on the counter of the nurse’s station.
Will’s brow furrows. “Then what?”
With his swollen tongue, it sounds more like ��den wah’. Lee picks up the pace — he’s pretty sure, based on what he knows, that the reaction will go away on its own, but a little Benadryl can’t hurt.
“You’re having an allergic reaction.”
He finally finds the stash of Benadryl — who sorted the mortal meds cupboard by colour again — and grabs one of the little measuring cups. Will sees the medicine and immediately starts whining, trying to climb off the counter.
After a minute of wrangling, he manages to keep Will put with one leg over both of his, chin hooked around his shoulder to hinder any escape attempts so he can pour the medicine with both hands. (He pours one teaspoon, even though Will is eight and should be having two. He’s too small for two. It worries him, a little bit — but there is nothing in his vitals to indicate anything’s wrong, so he must just be a late bloomer. Or maybe he and Michael are just destined to remain under five feet for eternity.)
“I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it ew ew ew ew ew —”
“Yes you are —”
“No! Gross! It’s disgusting!”
“You’ve never even had it before!”
Will looks at the tiny little cup like there are worms writhing in it. (He would probably be more willing to eat it if it was worms. Last summer he ate an ant before Lee could stop him. No one told him demigod life would involve wrangling dangerously impulsive children, and he would like a refund, please, thanks.) “I can tell.” He clamps his mouth shut, turning away. “I am not drinking it.”
“It will help you,” Lee says exasperatedly. Was he this difficult as a child? He needs to call his mother. “I can literally see you scratching your throat, you little snot.”
He shoves his hands under his thighs. “No.”
“…It’s bubblegum flavoured.”
Will turns slowly to look at him, evaluating the little cup with suspicion.
“Bubblegum?”
Lee shakes it enticingly. “Bubblegum.”
After a long, tense moment, Will nods once.
“Fine.” He accepts the little cup, bringing it up close to his face to inspect with one squinting eye. “But if it’s disgusting I’m spitting it out.”
He brings the little cup to his lips for the most delicate, most minuscule of sips, more of a dip of the tongue than anything. Lee rolls his eyes. A second later, a pleased look slots on his face, and he downs the rest of the medicine in one large gulp.
Immediately, some of the swelling reduces, and he stops breathing so laboriously.
“There you go,” Lee murmurs, smoothing back his hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Gods, you’re stubborn.”
He’s smiling as he says it, leaning down to press a kiss to Will’s freckled forehead. He slumps into it, sighing, arms winding their way around Lee’s neck almost shyly. Understanding the gesture for the plea that it is, Lee scoops him up again, wincing as he elbows his ribs in an effort to get comfortable, and starts putting the medicine away one-handed (by alphabet, the correct way to sort.)
“You sleepy?” he asks softly, feeling Will grow heavier against him. He crosses his fingers — Apollo kids don’t often suffer side effects of medication, but he’s hoping the drowsiness’ll kick in. It’ll be nice if Will actually, like, sleeps through the night. For once.
“Mhm.”
Smiling wider, he flicks off the lights and steps out into the late evening. Cicada song swells in the mid-spring mugginess, owls hooting somewhere in the darkness. The curfew harpies’ chittering grows nearer and nearer. Lee waves to some of his friends as he sees them puttering outside their cabins, running through the last of their nightly routines, and finally ducks into Cabin Seven.
“He out?” Diana asks, hushed, setting aside her guitar to walk over.
Lee hums. “Almost. Had to give him some Benadryl, so he’s sleepy.” His smile turns sly. “He lied to me about brushing his hair and broke out in hives.”
“Of course he’s allergic.” She leans forward, shaking her head, and presses a gentle kiss to his temple. He doesn’t stir. “Goodnight, sweetpea.”
The rest of his siblings call out their own soft goodnights as Lee walks over to Will’s bunk, covered in stickers and bracketed by Michael and Leanna, and sets him on the mattress. It takes him several minutes to pry himself out of his grip.
“Love you,” he whispers. He brushes his knuckle across his cheek. “Night, kiddo.”
———
The next morning, Will sleeps in for hours. The rest of them rise as usual with the sun, but he’s snoring, drooling onto his Star Wars pillowcase. The cabin is filled with muffled snickers and snapping cameras.
“I am going to have so much ammo on him by the time he’s thirteen and embarrassed by everything,” Michael says gleefully. “So, so much ammo.”
Lee grins at him. “Make sure I get a copy.”
The walk to breakfast is almost strange — the twelve of them again, no baby brother. Melody, complaining about the Hermes girl who is not picking up on any of her hints, pauses mid-sentence to ask if she can swear. Cass laughs out loud and allows it. Quickly, breakfast becomes a competition of who can swear the most or the most colourfully, free now that there are no little ears (as if Michael hasn’t supplied Will with a vast vocabulary already).
By the time Will stumbles into the pavilion, rubbing sleepy eyes, breakfast is almost over.
“Well, hello, lazy bones,” Lee teases, getting up to grab him a plate. Will trails slightly behind him, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt.
“‘M not lazy,” he grouches, accepting the heaping plate Lee hands to him, “you drugged me.”
They walk to the brazier near the Apollo table, taking in the sweet smell as Will scrapes off a hefty chunk of olive bread. Lee waits for him to close his eyes and finish mouthing a quick prayer before guiding him, still sleepy, to the bench.
“I didn’t drug you. You took the medicine yourself.”
“Um, no way! Unless a patient is educated about the risks, benefits, and alternatives about a treatment, they do not have informed consent.” He nods resolutely, evidently proud of himself for remembering the spiel. “Ergo, you drugged me.”
Lee has the sudden, overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Will is — he’s just so bright, and so little. Eight years old and chattering off about informed consent, intently watching Michael in the infirmary, taking notes in his little blue notebook and wrapping bandages on burns with his tongue poking out between lost teeth. When Lee was eight years old, he was chasing his friends around at recess, chattering to anyone who would listen about Pokémon.
He had felt it, when the glowing gold lyre appeared above Will’s head: this child will do great things. They’d all felt it. Cass had gone stiff, eyes flashing green and face creasing in horror, before remembering herself and the big blue eyes watching her, scared, and plastering a smile on her face. ‘Great things’ is never a good thing for a demigod to do. A demigod destined for great things is a demigod doomed.
With every straining molecule, he wants to turn to the heavens and scream, no! You will not have him! You will not use him! He is not yours to toy with, to use until you’re bored! I will not allow it! By my dying breath I will not allow it!
Instead, he swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “What kind of dork says the word ‘ergo’,” and laughs when Will sticks out his tongue. He reminds his baby brother to chew with his mouth closed and keep his elbows off the table, lest his mama kick his ass, and forces himself to focus on the way he leans into Lee’s side as he eats; to memorize the wideness of his unburdened smile.
———
“I’m allergic to lying?!”
“Seems like it,” Lee confirms, closing one eye to line up a shot. He breathes in, holds, then exhales, letting the arrow loose. It hits the bullseye, but not quite as centred as he’d like it to be. Shoot. He sets down his bow, and Will runs off, scooping up the volley and running back with them.
(Gods, Lee loves having a little brother.)
“That’s not a real allergy,” he huffs, placing an arrow in Lee’s waiting hand. “The ten most common allergy types are foods, animals, pollen, mold, dust mites, medications, latex, insect stings, cockroaches, and perfumes or household chemicals. Other allergens are rare but not impossible, but all are a result of physical stimuli. An allergy to a concept or person is a figure of speech.”
Lee squints at him. “Do you know what ‘stimuli’ means?”
“No.”
“It means a thing that evokes a specific reaction. Where’d you read that?”
“‘The Flu, The Plague, and the Common Cold — How We Are Shaped By Reacting’ by Phyllis Ledger.”
“Huh.”
He lines up another arrow — closer to the centre, this time. Good enough.
They don’t learn a lot about paediatric care at camp, or really anything outside of first aid and emergency services, but he’s pretty sure that normal eight-year-olds don’t read and memorize medical textbooks in their spare time. Is he supposed to nurture that? He has no idea how to nurture that.
It’s kinda funny, though. Cute.
“How can I be allergic to lying if that’s impossible?”
“Is sewing a severed arm back on a person using magical nectar and singing songs possible?”
Will pauses, considering. “Okay. I guess so.” He waits, letting Lee focus to make another shot. “I still think it’s stupid. Are you allergic to lying?”
“Nope.”
“Is Cass?”
“Negative.”
“Michael?”
Lee scoffs. “If Michael was allergic to lying, he would be dead.”
“Is anyone else allergic to lying?”
“Nope.” This time, the arrow lands in the dead centre — finally. “Just you, kiddo.”
He’s heard, of course, of children of Apollo afflicted with such an inconvenience before. Their dad is the god of truth, after all. It’s bound to happen.
Will frowns. “What are the parameters?”
Lee glances curiously at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, what is lying? Am I allergic to lying, or not telling the truth? They’re different, you know.” He fidgets with the last arrow of the volley, picking at the tail. “Am I gonna get hives if I say something that’s not true, even if I think it’s true? What if I say something that’s a lie but everyone believes it’s true, like when people believed smoking was good for you?” He gasps, looking at Lee with wide, worried eyes. “Oh my gods, am I allowed to be sarcastic?”
Lee tries his very best to hold back his laughter. He is obviously unsuccessful, because Will scowls, shoving him as hard as he can and throwing off his last shot.
“It’s not funny!”
“It’s a little funny,” Lee snickers, jogging down the range to gather his arrows. He slides them into the quiver, tossing it and his bow onto the equipment deck. “You’re very adorable when you’re mad. You get all —” he pokes Will’s dimpled cheeks, grinning when it makes him smile — “pouty and red. Like Tinkerbell.”
“You’re mean. You’re a horrible mean big brother and I want Beckendorf to adopt me instead.”
“I’ll let him know,” Lee says drily. “C’mon, kid. There’re cabin inspections tonight; I know you got Lego everywhere. Time to clean up. I swear, if we get Castor again I’m gonna —”
“Oh, I didn’t see you guys! I hope I’m not interrupting your practice.”
Lee stumbles. “— lose it.” He trails off weakly “Hey, Carter.”
The son of Athena smiles widely, dark eyes twinkling. His front tooth is just slightly crooked, and Lee finds himself staring at it.
“Hi, Lee.”
Lee wonders, briefly, if he has suddenly developed tachycardia. It certainly feels like it. He remembers something Will had rattled off during lunch yesterday — hummingbirds don’t actually hum, they just beat their wings thousands of times per minute, often in sync with their heart. Lee feels a strange kinship with the little birds right about now.
Will clears his throat loudly.
Carter startles. “Oh! Oh, hi, Will, I’m sorry. Didn’t see you there.”
Will squints suspiciously. “Uh-huh.”
“I was just hoping to use the archery range, if you’re done with it.” He tucks a lock behind his ear. “Or, um. We can share, if you want.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Lee rushes to assure, “I actually just finished, so I’m all — it! It’s all yours!” He clears his throat, sure his face is flaming. “Uh, take it away! Shoot straight!”
Mortified, he clamps his hands on Will’s shoulders and practically shoves him forward, rushing away as fast as is socially acceptable.
“Okay,” Carter calls out behind him, audibly confused. “See you around, Lee.”
Lee makes some sort of horrible, crackling chucking sound. “Right-o!”
Just bury him. Really.
“Smooth,” Will mutters, the second they’re out of earshot. Then he pauses, delighted. “Hey! I can still be sarcastic!”
Lee flicks him on the forehead, scowling. “Shut up.”
———
“— it just seems so vague, right? I mean, say I look at the sky and say, the sky is green. That’s obviously not true. But what if I think it’s true? Or what if I think blue is green, and green is blue? Am I being truthful? Is truth defined by my belief, or by whoever I’m speaking to? Or some arbitrary, so-called objective standard? And what if —”
“Will,” Lee begs, hands pressed to his rapidly-pulsating temples, “for the love of Zeus, please settle down.”
“I can’t,” he says dramatically. He gets another couple jumps on his (FRESHLY MADE) bed before Lee gets fed up an wallops him with a pillow, sending him tumbling with a shriek. “Child abuse! I’m telling Chiron!” He makes a pleased noise. “Hey, I can still exaggerate! I wonder if acting is considered lying —”
“I am going to lose my mind.”
“— and what about, like, withholding the truth? Like, for example, if you asked me, hey, Will, did I make a big embarrassing fool out of myself in front of Carter this morning, and I do not say yeah, totally, I was embarrassed for you —”
“That’s it.”
Lee pounces on him, murderous, digging his fingers into his brother’s sides as he shrieks with laughter, pinning down his arms so he can’t writhe away.
“Mercy! Mercy! I’m sorry, I’m —”
“You’re literally lying right now!” Lee says in disbelief. “I can see your eyes reddening!”
Luckily, the reaction isn’t so severe this time. Maybe it’s a smaller lie, leaning more into teasing than anything, or maybe even the universe can’t be so cruel when faced with Will’s giggles. Either way, Lee tickles him until he’s begging for mercy for real, gasping as he darts away.
“You’re such a brat,” Lee says fondly, catching his breath.
Will sticks out his tongue. “Nuh uh.”
“Get over here, doofus. It’s nine o’clock. You were supposed to be in bed a half-hour ago, I’ll tell you a story.”
Predictably, that gets him quiet, clambering over the mussed sheets and shoving himself into Lee’s side, leg sprawled over his knees and chin digging into his chest. Big blue eyes turn to him with attention, wider than the sea and skies, sparkling, clear with open trust. The lump surfaces in Lee’s throat again, and he brings his hands up to smooth down Will’s hair, distracting himself by untangling the many knots.
“One day,” he begins, voice a little wobbly, “there was a boy.”
“In a galaxy far far away?”
“No. Shut up.”
Will pouts. Lee kisses him on the forehead.
“There was a regular boy on regular Earth. And he was small and clumsy, because his brain was too big for his body and threw him off balance.”
“That’s called a Chiari malformation.”
“William Andrew.”
“Sorry.”
“Gods. Anyways. The boy.” He clears his throat. “The boy was the most curious boy to ever exist. He would observe things, with his big eyes, for hours, trying to figure out how everything in the whole world worked. He’d memorized how every creature in the pond worked together when he was four years old. By the time he was five he could speak frog, and dance with the fireflies.”
Will giggles. “A boy can’t speak frog, that’s ridiculous. Can the frog speak back?”
“Shhh. Listening ears. One day, when the boy was eight, he got very bored by his house, even with the pretty pond. The frogs were too busy to play with him and the fireflies had flown off to work, so he decided to go on an adventure.”
“A quest?”
“Yes, exactly. A quest for knowledge. He decided he would learn every piece of information possible so that one day he could bring it back to his village and share it with everybody. Do you know what happened?”
“What?”
“He was successful. He spent many years travelling and observing and running from monsters to get all the information he could. And when he came back to the village, the people saw that he was kind and intelligent but very naive, so they sucked out all the knowledge from his head to use for themselves and he died. The end.”
“What? No!” Will pushes himself upright, unfortunately putting his entire weight on Lee’s spleen, jaw dropped in outrage. “That’s a horrible story! You can’t end the story like that!”
“My story,” Lee wheezes. “I can end it however I want.”
“Tell it better!”
“Fine, fine. Get off my organs.”
When Will is settled again, curled in the crook of Lee’s arm and glaring at him suspiciously, Lee continues.
“The villagers didn’t kill the boy. You’re right. But they weren’t very careful with them, either. The boy wanted very much to help, so much that it was sometimes all he could think about. And the villagers didn’t mean to, but they treated the boy like he was a knowledge machine — taking and taking and taking, forgetting to give back, to check on him. One day, the boy was so drained of knowledge that he collapsed.”
“Of stress-induced exhaustion?” Will asks softly. His eyes, finally, have begun to droop.
Lee smiles. “Something like that.”
“Then what happened?”
“The villagers panicked, because the boy wasn’t awake to tell them how to fix him. They didn’t know what to do. Some of them, even, didn’t know why he collapsed at all, they thought he might be cursed and didn’t like him anymore.”
“But he wasn’t cursed, he was sick!”
“That’s right. He was sick, because he didn’t stop to take care of himself. He let people take too much without making sure he had enough to stay whole.”
For a long time, long enough that Lee thinks he’s asleep, Will doesn’t say anything. And then he says, in a very small voice, “Does the boy still die?”
“No,” Lee whispers, tightening his hold. “His big brother comes back from a long trip and heals him. And then he yells are the villagers for making him sick, and makes them promise to be more careful. The end. For real this time.”
“I like the second story better,” Will says. “It’s good that he had his big brother there.”
“Always.” Lee swallows, shifting once Will’s eyes flutter shut, sliding him under the covers. “Always, kiddo.”
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linkedin-offficial · 3 months
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kitty colony au anybody?
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harrowedsoup · 9 months
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Gideon: Harrow won’t let me speak to anyone because she thinks I’m stupid and I’ll bring shame to the Ninth House >:(
Meanwhile, Harrow: If anyone actually gets to know Griddle’s horrible personality they’ll immediately want to climb her like a tree. Obviously the solution is to make her keep silent because no one finds the strong and silent type attractive. I am great at making plans.
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hwiyoungies · 9 months
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game bois
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months
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Also, I'm pretty sure Steve knows music he just pretends he doesn't, so Eddie can educate him. It's a definite move. Also, he's hard of hearing and he uses that his advantage.
"You know, maybe if you sat in my lap, I would be able to hear you better," Steve would say.
Eddie would sigh before sitting in his lap and continuing his rant about all kinds of music. Of course, Dustin would ruin it.
"Why are you sitting in Steve's lap, Eddie?" Dustin asked as he walked into Steve’s house uninvited. . .again.
"So he can hear me, duh," Eddie exclaimed.
"Dustin," Steve warned.
Dustin pulled Steve’s hair to the side.
"He's wearing his hearing aide," Dustin said.
"Uh, I forgot to get new batteries," he said.
"The light says otherwise," Dustin said.
"You have deceived me! Forsaken me!" Eddie exclaimed and narrowed his eyes. "What else have you lied to me about? Dustin, leave, so I can punish your babysitter properly."
"I just got here!" Dustin exclaimed.
"Leave!" Steve and Eddie said without looking away from each other.
The next day. . .
"Oh my God! That's a lot of bruises on your neck, Steve," Dustin said. "What'd Eddie do? Punch you in the neck?"
"Yeah, that's exactly what he did," Steve said dryly. ". . . With his mouth."
"Oh my god!"
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ailithnight · 1 year
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Aheem... prompt from @regonold
16 Hours
Danny remembers the first time something shorted out his powers. Vlad with his stupid Plasmius Maximus thing. Well, 'remembers'. Mostly he remembers the aftermath.
Apparently Vlad hadn't known at the time exactly how Danny ended up half ghost. He thought it had been a slower progression like his own development. It hadn't occurred to him that Danny's original death had been much quicker.
Danny remembers a short, light shock. Really, the spector deflector was worse. But this shock... suddenly his muscles were seizing, his heart stuttering, his Lichtenbergs burning. And then, nothing. A blank space in Danny's head that apparently spanned 3 hours.
Next thing he knows, they're in some kind of vehicle. There are sirens outside (a police escort, Danny would later learn). His mom is driving like her life depends on it. And Vlad is giving him chest compressions, looking grieved and panic striken. He's crying. They both are.
"Please tell me you didn't have to kiss me." His voice comes out pained and raspy. Mom almost crashes the vehicle.
"No, Little Badger. Thankfully, you kept breathing. Just your heart that was struggling." Vlad chuckled, guilty yet relieved.
It was another hour before they made it to the nearest hospital from the stupid hunting cabin. 6 more for all the stupid medical tests. "An accident," Vlad told them. "Small shock, but with an already weak heart..."
Any other time, Danny might have argued. Tried to make Vlad admit more guilt. But the whole ordeal had exhausted him to much to care then.
The second time was marginally better. At least with the Fenton Crammer, it was a steady loss. And Danny managed to fix it before his healing factor fully failed. It still hadn't been pleasant, fighting Skulker and dealing with Dash while phantom echoes of his death arced across his body. But he'd managed.
This. This is so much worse. Danny thought it would be like the Crammer again. A steady decline. But it isn't.
And it isn't like the Maximus either, a one then done, pain then nothing, dying then dead, moment.
No. This is more like the blood blossoms. This is torture. This is hell.
The suppression cuffs let just enough of his power bleed through, just enough healing factor, to keep him alive. Alive and in agony for... hours? Days? Weeks? Minutes? Danny couldn't really tell. His thoughts had long since turned to nothing but static and pain. All he knew was that time was passing around him while he was here, suffering on the absolute brink of death yet unable to embrace it.
Oh god he wanted to die. Please just let him die already! It's too much. A death that should only last a few seconds drug out into an eternity. His muscles ached with the strain of being locked up. His insides were broiling from the electric heat. His heart stuttered and stopped and started and stuttered. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!
He might have been screaming. He might have been Wailing. Or he might he been choking on weak uneven breaths. Danny didn't know. Didn't care to know. Didn't care if he ever found out the details of his time in chains. He just wanted, no needed, it to end. But it just dragged on and on and on. And Danny was lost in it.
Too far gone to even realize when it ended.
.
Batman hadn't been there when the new meta appeared, quite literally materializing from nowhere in the conference room mid-meeting. He had been dealing with a mass Arkham breakout at the time. So he wasn't there. An unfortunate fact which will haunt him for the rest of his life and possibly beyond.
He should have been there. If he had only been there...
He didn't blame his team mates. They didn't know. Who would have guessed that simple power suppression cuffs could ever be an instrument of torture. He'd never considered it possible.
He didn't blame his team mates. How could he blame them? Batman wasn't even the one to connect the dots. Red Robin figured it out. He always was good at stringing together thoughts know one else would think to connect.
Red Robin asked the right questions. He figured out in 5 minutes what the rest of the league and the best doctors -not technically- on earth had been agonizing over for 16 hours.
16 hours too long.
He should have been here. Should have come sooner.
"Don't know, B!" Flash had met him at the Zetas, already rambling at top speed before he could reorient himself after teleportation. Everyone else had gone home, unable to help and needing to tend to their own cities and responsibilities.
"He just- He appeared out of nowhere while we were in meeting. Didn't trip any alarms or nothing. Just popped up. We figured it had to be teleportation, but he'd have to know where the Watchtower was to do that.
So we figured, you know, random kid teleporting into the Watchtower during a Justice League meeting. Not good. Big threat. Bats would tell us to detain. So we did.
But before we could get him to a holding cell, there was this flash of light and he changed or something. He had white hair and green eyes and some sort of jumpsuit on when he appeared.
But after the light he had black hair and a t-shirt and jeans and I actually didn't see his eyes cause he just collapsed on the spot.
Started convulsing or seizing or something. And screaming. God, B, the screaming... So we took him to medbay and...
He's dying B. He has to be. He's got a fever that keeps spiking and dropping, his muscles keep spasming, and his heart keeps giving out...
He looks 14. He looks like..."
Flash had trailed off there, as they reached medbay. Bruce understood his reluctance to complete that sentence as soon as he saw the boy.
He looks like a Robin.
Like all 4 of his sons combined.
Like someone mixed Dick's and Jason's faces and put it on Tim's body at Damian's age.
It can't even be a trick. The suppression cuffs are nullifying his abilities. This is what he truly looks like.
His sons.
In pain.
In agony for 16 hours because Batman prioritized Gotham over an emergency on the Watchtower.
"When exactly did you say he collapsed."
"When we were moving him to a holding cell after we caught him. He was a trick to catch too. He-"
Red Robin cut him off. "Yeah, sure. But when exactly did this start. What happened immediately before?"
Flash was less then pleased about being interrupted, but acquiesced after a look from Batman. Tim had an idea. Tim was on to something. "Like I said, just after we caught him and got the cuffs on so he'd stop slipping away again."
Bruce couldn't keep the growl out of his voice one he realized what Tim was suggesting. Of course he knows it wasn't their fault. He's told all of them as much since. But in the moment...
"Take them off!"
"What?"
"It's the cuffs! Take the damn cuffs off! They're killing him!"
Flash wasted no more time, bolting out of the room to fetch the disabler. Tim didn't bother waiting for the fastest man alive. He had the cuffs disabled before Flash would have been able to swipe his access card into the detainment center storage room. Bruce practically threw the cuffs out of the room in his haste to get them away.
The change had been... not nearly as quick as Bruce would have liked. The heartrate settled out almost instantly, although into something a bit too slow for comfort. But it was steady and Bruce knew nothing about this kid's normal physiology so he counted it a win.
The screaming, of course, had long since choked off. According to Flash's report, his vocal cords failed after about an hour. But his facial expressions still indicated consciousness, though not awareness.
The muscles stopped spasming and unlocked slowly over the course of several minutes. Flash was back by then, looking a bit put out to have lost a race against Red Robin. Batman could not give a single flying fuck about Flash's ego right then.
Shortly after his muscles unlocking was when he finally passed out. Once more, Batman thought about 16 hours. 16 hours and he hadn't even been able to slip into unconsciousness for relief. He should have been here.
The fever was the slowest to break. In that it still hadn't broken almost 2 hours later. Batman had sent Tim and Flash home after Red Robin finished squeezing all the details he could out of Barry. Tim had given him a look before leaving, some mixture of worry and mischief. "Should I tell Agent A to prepare a room?" Bruce just rolled his eyes and shooed him off. Hopefully to bed. Knowing his son, probably not. Tim was most likely still up doing research. Bruce wanted to call Alfred to wrangle Tim to sleep.
But calling Alfred would mean leaving the room so the still potentially a threat meta couldn't hear if he woke up. And Bruce couldn't leave him. Not until the fever broke. Not until he woke up. Not until he knew the boy that looked like his sons would be okay.
Not until he could apologize for being late.
16 hours.
16 hours too late.
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just-null · 4 months
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YO, SUPER LATE SUPER LONG SUPER MESSY OCTOBER POST THAT I JUST SHOVED EVERYTHING INTO BC I DIDN'T WANT TO DO MULTIPLE. FUCK IT.
I forgot halfway that these were supposed to be costumes and not mini aus... SO REMEMBER IN MY PLACE, EVERYTHING IS HYPOTHETICAL. also. some have a bit of yandere elements to them bc its SO FITTING FOR NORITOSHI.
Happy late October, everyone. it's winter now. Let's get it, baby.
[Long rambles and doodles under the cut!]
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Vampire!
I kept asking myself, "How sexy is too sexy.." and "How the fuck does a sexy vampire even look like without it being a shirtless guy w fangs or Edward Cullen....." I think I figured it out
Sure, sure, vampires are superhumans with sun allergies that can drink blood really hotly. They can also easily overpower you to feast and blah blah blah, but what if said vampire (Noritoshi) was too weak to do any of that? Not literally, but he craves your say. He wants not only your blood but your affection. He wants to get praised as he drinks you in. Are you comfortable? How much will you allow him to take? Do you want to get him back in return? Guidance with this makes him feel more at ease. It's still Noritoshi at the end of the day. He's going to find a way to be a little awkward about you because of his crush. He refuses to drink from anyone other than you, even if it causes his death. Therefore, he has to keep you healthy! For the rest of your lives..! Besides, he can't really go outside or else he'd.. y'know. So if you think about it, this is a very beneficial relationship for both of you!!
The only downside is that you're losing blood on the regular, and for some reason, more people are moving away... Probably nothing, right? Noritoshi is always there to keep you company and help you recover anyways.
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Witch!
my attempts also bled into the witch design.... you got greedy with requesting two in one ask, but I'll spoil you this time bc I also wanted to see Noritoshi as a (sexy) vampire and witch. heh. AND I DIDNT REALIZE HED BE SO CUTE AS A WITCH..... WHAT THE FUCK?? rip momo, fight for your title of cute witch...
Noritoshi strikes me as one of those witches who'd rather be left to their own devices because they're running some important magic whatever in the background. though, he'll take some breaks and indulge you if you insist on having him around. Insist meaning you pass by and strike conversation, leaving him to neglect anything and everything to prioritize his time with you. He doesn't want to use magic on you unless it's beneficial for either you or both. Noritoshi likes a natural progression with you that he knows for a fact is true and not some product of some spell. Though it doesn't mean he wouldn't use charms and such to get you to interact with him more often to speed up the process!
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Can't sleep? He has a remedy perfect for that! Bad luck? Oh no, take a charm. Nerves? A potion he perfected will help you ease your jitters. Annoying peers? With a snap of Noritoshi's fingers, they're gone! Just don't ask what happened. Enjoy yourself instead and come to him with any new issue. He's quick to resolve it.
Definitely has some sort of doll that looks suspiciously like you.. Noritoshi would probably talk to it and practice one liners that give you the strongest sense of nostalgia once he uses them. He's simultaneously giddy that the charm he put in the doll works but also a little annoyed that his hard work isn't surprising you, but leaving you with deja vu.
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Idol!
i was crying the entire time bc what does an idol look like.... noritoshi is handsome enough to be an idol without actually being an idol... now i can confirm that idols are very well dressed though. thumbs up 100% but i had some thoughts...
[Idol]
Noritoshi would be the type to cherish his fans, but hold clear favoritism over you. he'd be those idols that look cold, but they talk, and they sound smug in a charming way. i don't know much about idols, but i know he'd be so fucking good.... he'd be the type of guy to sing to you amongst the hundreds in the crowd.... ahhh the interviews w these famous aus. they're just talking and acting like themselves. can you imagine Noritoshi getting asked the question if he has a lover or not? he can lie, im sure you're alright with that, but he doesn't want to!! he does have someone!!! someone he loves more than all his fans love for him combined!!! he just can't say it for the sake of your privacy and his career. so Noritoshi does what any charming guy who's good with their words does. he deflects the question. answering the question, but not really, that'd be something he's known for. fans online are split on why Noritoshi does this. some think he's trying to keep that side of his life private, others think he's trying to mess around, and others think he's hiding a secret lover!!! though the last one is usually seen as the outlandish one, sometimes it makes Noritoshi's heart drop bc they get some things right. "Having a lover is a complicated question hidden behind a simple disguise. If I had to answer, I'd say my lovers are my audience. they make sure i'm well cared for, some more than others." AND HIS FUCKING LITTLE SMIRK I CANT COUGHS UP BLOOD. IM A THEORIST TOO. SECRET LOVER. 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵
ON THE FLIP SIDE....
[Not an Idol]
An amusing thought where Noritoshi goes out in his casual clothes, and he's mistaken for an idol. No one knows who he is, but he just looks like he'd be one. bro's just trying to buy groceries, and now he has a fan group asking him to take pictures with them.. He'd tell them that he's just a guy, not an idol, but the group would still want a picture with him. it'd be a waste to pass by someone who's so naturally gorgeous, so with a sigh of defeat, he relents. It's just a photo, right? No harm done. Noritoshi'd go home and feel overwhelmed/embarrassed by the whole ordeal. later, he gets a call from someone in the kyoto group or you to inform him how he's all over social media, known as that handsome guy in the supermarket. HED BE COMPLETELY UNREACHABLE TO MEDIA OUTLETS BC NORITOSHI IS THAT GUY WHO DOESNT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA.... he'd have to make one to make sure no one pretends to be him online. "Hello, I don't use social media, but I've been informed I've been getting attention online. To prevent anyone from being fooled by an impersonator, this is my official and only account. thank you." P.R. STATEMENT WRITING ASS.. his single post gets flooded with likes, comments, and DMs. it almost blows up his phone..... he was just buying bread, dude...... people try to dig up and find him through the other Kyoto group's social media.
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[bonus] my second in command requested to put him in a fem idol outfit bc he thought it was funny. after frothing at the mouth and coughing out blood, I complied.
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Doctor!
THIS IS SUCH A STRAIGHT FORWARD ASK BUT IT HAS SO MANY IMPLICATIONS. MY BELOVED CULT MEMBER.. THOSE EMOJIS GIVE ME A DIFFERENT IMPRESSION BUT IM NOT SURE.
Noritoshi as a doctor...... apple sales would plummet. his little clinic's business would skyrocket. sick cases would peak in his area. getting your heart checked by his stethoscope would be so fucking embarrassing bc all he'd hear is THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
LIKE IMAGINE IF THAT WAS YOUR DOCTOR? BRO.
COUGH COUGH HACK WHEEZE COUGH COUGH.
Noritoshi would probably own a small clinic that he wants to expand. That or he opened one after working for a hospital for a while. He's a great doctor who's most likely respected but a pain in the ass to work with. Among patients, he's gotten the hot doctor reputation. Most want to be treated by him, but he's so professional, any chance of trying to flirt goes down the drain. Yeah, he puts his hair up to avoid it in his face even though his eyes are closed classic lab safety procedures. He seems like the type to have a soothing but authoritative voice during examination, so he gets his message across. it's a bit difficult when dealing with patients for Noritoshi. If he sees them too often, he firstly scolds you for not taking care of yourself, then feels guilty for not giving you the proper care. Keep yourself safe and healthy, or else Noritoshi will clearly :( Putting him in a yandere setting would be dangerous. He'd have a lot of control over you, considering he can prescribe medication, shots, visits, and other things.... he'd have a ball.... nothing that would cause you any harm, of course. he's only looking out for you and doing what's best for you..!
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Pirate!
my second in command wanted a pirate. pirates are so fucking cool and i know damn well if this guy were a pirate he'd have a bunch of battle scars under that fancy coat.
Noritoshi as a pirate would be more than a little odd, but also fitting. He looks like the type of guy who'd be well put together, yet he's willing to get his hands dirty. Like the guy who got into the pirate life because of some personal issue that couldn't be solved fast enough through conventional means. Even as a pirate, i imagine he holds everyone to high standards. They're still pirates though.. so his expected standards aren't even that high. He has more freedom here, so even he himself lets loose once or twice. Especially with you. He's even able to get away with more violent actions for you, the seas are unpredictable, after all. While taking some treasure, Noritoshi'd toss you a gem or golden coin, just so you can say you were the first to claim it. Just so he can see that happy glint in your eyes when getting your hands on treasure. God forbid anyone try to get their hands on your hard earned goods. They'd be met with a bullet to the foot or a sword at their neck. Everyone and their mother knows how you're his favorite, but Noritoshi downplays it. Its not a crime to help out someone from his crew is it? Not in the seven seas. He leans more into his cold ruthless killer side here. He has goals and people to help keep in line whether hes captain or not. Yet when around you, he's almost adorable in how he shows you a pearl so entrancing that it reminded him of you.
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Corpse Bride!
my submission to my Noritoshi Halloween costume closet.. CORPSE BRIDE, THIS MOVIE FUCKS. esp w the yandere elements.
Noritoshi 100% made you recite the wedding vows to him before accepting the ring. If you fumbled up, he'd correct you with SO much attitude and expect you to start from the top until you got it perfectly.
Hypothetically, in the chalice scene towards the end..
Noritoshi is the type to never be fully relaxed unless he knows for sure you'll be eternally his. In this scenario, YOU proposed to HIM but have to die to continue being together. Not only that, but someone in the living world is also after your heart. Someone who bleeds. Someone who's the obvious choice. Someone who can give you the life that you deserve. Someone who will succeed in their pursuits if you. remain. alive. Noritoshi's life was cut short, yet he still managed to lose so much and be abandoned a considerable amount of times. When he meets you and finds out about the possibility of having to go through that again even in death, it finally clicks in his rotting mind. He realizes he's been doing something wrong to keep constantly failing. Noritoshi revises his methods to a more.. selfish course. Why should he care about anyone else's wants or how his actions hurt them? You were the only one who made him truly fulfilled, to make him feel alive. The only one who deserves anything and everything good that comes from this world. Destiny is never done toying with him when he realizes your marriage is invalid because of your pulse and his lack thereof no matter how hard he'd try, but the opportunity arises. of course, he's ecstatic to give you an afterlife worth much more than what a silly beating heart can achieve. "All people die eventually. If you miss your living family or friends, all it takes is patience, darling. I'll wait by your side in the meantime." He weighs the pros and cons of everything, but when it comes to swaying manipulating your thoughts he only highlights the ones that'll get you on his side. in this case, the pros of dying to be with him! Honestly, the answer was so obvious that Noritoshi didn't know why he was stressing about it before. It hurts him to see you in any type of pain, but he reassures both himself and you that it'll only be for a moment. Afterward, he'll have the rest of your afterlives to make it up to you!! What happened to Till Death Do Us Part? Noritoshi thinks it's insulting that something as shallow as that could be so widely accepted. If your love were true, it wouldn't stop just because the world decided to take them away. "Till death do us part? Darling, don't be silly. 'Not even death will do us part' feels much better, doesn't it?" 
#noritoshi#kamo noritoshi#noritoshi kamo#noritoshi x reader#kamo noritoshi x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#yandere noritoshi#yandere kamo noritoshi#yandere noritoshi kamo#merry october#???#ragingbisegzual#charamander459#I FUCKING LIVED THROGUH THIS GOD I FELT SO BAD I TOOK SO LONG ESP SINCE ITS ALREADY HALFWAY INTO NOVEMBER BUT HERE WE GO. BABY IS HERE#i thought i was so smart making this look like a fashion show. anyway hi im still alive just busy#vampire and witch nori were makin my brain fry bc all the outfits for guys were their shirt off. it was both funny and testing my creativit#as for idol.. heh. <- in love with forbidden love and secret relationships and 'we shouldnt be doing this' 'i know' *does it anyway*#I WAS TEARING MY HAIR OUT AT DOCTOR. LIKE I LIKE THE CONCEPT BUT WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO.. PUT HIM IN SCRUBS???#im not upset im just so entertained by how straight forward you were yet there are still so many implications in this ask#LIKE YOU WROTE FOUR WORDS AND TWO EMOJIS AND THATS ALL IT TOOK FOR ME TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE#now that i think abt it. i shouldve put him in a hot nurse outfit... //punches myself in the face#THATS WHY ANY FAMOUS/ROYAL/REPUTATION AU IS MY SHIT BC THEY HAVE TO HIDE THEIR RELATIONSHIP/EACHOTHER AGH FROTHS AT THE MOUTH#i love how the pirate noritoshi is a cool guy until he sees you and turns into a simp#CORPSE BRIDE WAS SO SELF INDULGENT. THAT MOVIE FUCKS SO HARD. THE USE OF 'DARLING' WAS BC EMILY USED IT IN THE MOVIE#IT HAD SO MANY YAN VIBES BUT FUCK. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A GREEN FLAG EMILY. I LOVE YOU#heh. the lace and mask are supposed to represent the bones and such. didnt mean to give him a phantom of the opera look.. though it fits...
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riickgrimes · 5 days
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"The key thing was of course, the fact that Rick has PTSD and that's very much what's driving a lot of his behavior and being in a place of that level of vulnerability, back with the love of his life in that way.
It's also the thing he fears, the loss of her. It manifests itself in a way that is visceral and leads to the lovemaking not just being about love, but the revealing of pain and trauma and fear. That informs Michonne, that she can't just blast him into making sense. There's something deeper going on here that he can't verbalize. She has to help him get through in a different way. So she gets to see him, as well, as he reveals what's really in there, the wound. That's going to happen most likely in that most vulnerable space." — Danai Gurira
"Yeah, I think it is about pain. As Danai just said, it's about him wanting her and then fearing what he's about to unlock again. He gets to sort of articulate it in the scene further in the episode, when he gets to say that, 'I can't do this again. I haven't got the capacity to do this again. I've worked out how to die and live again.' So it is an absolutely necessary scene that allows Michonne to realize that there's something really broken here, more broken than she's ever anticipated. [...]
So the scene was about a real intimacy, a sort of frightening intimacy. This is a part of his personality he has shut down. It's almost like he's trying to stop himself from feeling this love again. She sees that and she just says, 'Just trust. We're back. We're the same...' I find it very moving. I think it's a very, very moving scene, because it's about them connecting in a way that he's had to deny for seven years. He's denied that connection for the sake of living on in this half life for the CRM" — Andrew Lincoln
Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira Discuss Episode 4 of The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live
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catdoingblep · 6 months
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arthursfuckinghat · 8 days
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"I was gonna say you're like a son to me.. but you're more than that."
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"It ain't that complicated!"
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How quickly that shoulder pat of comfort turned into a condescending one.
#he makes me feel so emo#this life was never meant for you but your fate was forced#the way dutch (and hosea) talks to arthur like he's stupid will never sit right with me#like they've been by his side over 20 years they KNOW he isn't stupid because if he was he would have been gone a long time ago#not only is arthur incredibly emotionally smart but he's a trained conman vault breaker gunslinger horse rider you name it#the fact that his own adoptive parents break him down like that hurts#it's a manipulation tactic on dutch's end - break your victims self esteem to make them chase your praise and approval#hosea I believe has just gone along with that kind of attitude but in a different way he just likes to jest lightheartedly#arthur doesn't see the difference though and it's understandable but he takes it to heart#the worst part is that hosea sees through his tough guy act and has called arthur out on it#his act is a defence mechanism to protect himself from being too vulnerable - in arthur's mind#and it isn't a sudden thing it's very likely something that has built over the years given the life he has lived#and hosea notices he knows this#but they still jab at arthur#oh it hurts#is he your son dutch? or is he your guard dog? your personal workhorse?#playing through the second time is opening my eyes more and more#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#mick squeaks#mick rants#mick gifs#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#liveblogging#you guys gotta understand - arthur seeks and longs for dutch's approval he'll never say it but it's the key motive behind his loyalty#and arthur *rejects* dutch's comfort#he doesn't *want* dutch to pat him on the shoulder because he knows dutch is digging them an even deeper hole#he doesn't want that touch he craves#it's so insanely monumental for such a small scene because it shows us how arthur feels without telling us
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mothysmenagerie · 2 months
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I'm having a conniption over how much I 💖💝💞🥰😻 her.
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