#apologies ill stop now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesunisatangerine · 7 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part six

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit descriptions of violence, blood, and death

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.3k

You had to get out of there.

Tremors shook the ground as another shell made impact somewhere far to your right but it was close enough that the explosion left your ears ringing. You flattened your back further against the fallen wall behind you when you heard the unmistakeable sound of gunfire, the rubble that cut into your skin barely registered in your mind from the adrenaline that rushed through you. But the cacophony of noise amalgamated into something continuous, something malevolent and cruel; something that promised death in its wake.

Bullets embedded themselves in a column, a wall, a body–everywhere–and fine pieces of debris flew and pelted against the exposed skin of your cheeks and against your helmet. Your eyes watered from the fine powder of pulverised cement and the oppressive heat, while your lungs were smothered by smoke and a choking stench–something like freshly-laid asphalt mixed with the distinct, rancid smell of burnt human flesh, sulphuric and sharp.

Through lidded eyes you witnessed the depravity; the extent of humanity’s appetite for senseless destruction and anarchy. It was total chaos–no, it was worse than that: it was butchery and brutality at its finest; a type of hell on earth.

All around you were bodies upon bodies, men and women alike–children. Their faces, frozen and pallid, permanently bore imprints of terror and agony; their crooked fingers and still eyes fixated to the sky imploring in violent judgment–resentful and anguished in their silence–the unspoken question:

Why?

Everything overwhelmed you all at once: the sight and the smell made your stomach churn to no end. Even when you heaved the remnants of your stomach to the ground, the nausea remained, pulsing and gnawing.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you brought your camera to your eye and you willed the shaking in your bones to still.

You took a shot.

Another round of bullets splattered to a nearby wall and this time, you threw yourself front-first to the ground and you felt the rhythm of your heart reverberating against the mud. And a sinking feeling hit you. You’d bore witness to many conflicts, faced mortal peril, and was familiar to death like it was an old friend. Each time you were in such a situation, hopelessness never got the better of you–it was like you’d always known you were going to make it out each time.

This time it was different, you could feel it in your bones. You were going to die here and it wasn’t a matter of if, just when and how.

But you had a job. If you were going to die, you would die being the mouthpiece for the ones who’d already been silenced–from their premature deaths or from the hand of the power meant to protect them or both–to show the world what they’d suffered, what they’d sacrificed.

With that in mind, you steeled yourself. You loaded your camera with another ring of film, fingers stiff from the cold and marred by blood and mud, and you captured the scene.

Repeat.

There were people screaming, running, clamouring for survival. As you moved with them, you kept an eye out for other survivors who needed help to get out of there. You scanned the faces for the familiar ones of Jones and Gilda but they were nowhere to be seen. You’d lost track of them after the initial explosion and the chaos that followed so the only thing you could do now was to look for them as you went and hope for their safety.

Meter by meter, inch by inch, you moved slowly away from the direction of gunfire. You were farther ahead now but the gunners were still dangerously close, still close enough to be able to catch up to where you were if they continued their pursuit, so you remained crouched and cautious for any sound that could indicate danger.

When you came across the rubble of a fallen building–freshly destroyed by artillery from the smoke that came from it–you heard a whimper. It startled you; the softness of the sound barely pierced through the ringing in your ear but when you peered under a slab of concrete braced by a rugged beam, you caught sight of a scene that shattered what was left of your heart.

In the shadows, big eyes that you could not mistaken belonged to a child shone with terror, a little girl that looked no more than ten years of age, her mouth partly open in fear. You could discern another person next to the child but they weren’t moving at all and from the blood smeared on the girl’s cheek, you had a sinking feeling that the other person was dead.

Gunfire echoed somewhere behind you and you flinched at its closeness. How did they get so close so fast? You needed to get the both of you out of there. If you could save this child’s life then maybe, just maybe, your life was worth something after all.

You raised both of your hands up and spoke gently, hoping the little girl would be able to understand that you were there to help as you stooped to fit through the gap. The child hesitated and receded further back into the rubble so you tried again as you inched closer to where the other person laid unresponsive, patient despite the ever-closing sound of shots being fired.

You reached the other person–a woman–and when you placed two fingers against her pulsepoint and found no rhythm, you bit your quivering lip and looked at the child, chest heavy. And as if the little girl finally understood that you meant no harm, she inched towards you and placed her small hand in your open one. With a firm yet gentle grip on the girl, you guided the both of you out of the rubble.

Once outside, you carried the little girl behind a wall, heart breaking when you felt her shiver and at the fact that it took little effort carry to her for she weighed so little. And now with light and cover, you inspected the little girl.

To your relief, other than the trail of flaking blood that originated from the crown of her head and on her cheeks, the little girl looked like she didn’t sustain any other physical injuries. Satisfied for the time being you began to tend to her, gave her water and what little food you had on you, and then wiped away the blood.

After she finished, you detached the velcro of your bulletproof vest and unbuckled your helmet before you put them on the little girl. Then you hoisted the girl up on your back, leaving your camera dangling heavily on your chest.

You managed to sneak across the district without being noticed but you knew the danger was never far away. A little farther on, you began to recognise key landmarks that let you know you were close to the base you came from. So even when the muscles in your legs protested for you to rest, you pushed on.

Not a moment later though did loud shots fill the air and immediately, you fell to the ground, feeling fine rubble and shrapnels cut into the side you landed on as you manoeuvred your body so that the child wouldn’t get hurt. The little girl cried out and adrenaline coursed through your veins, instinct driving you to keep the child safe so you pushed the two of you against a nearby wall, your back to the open space while you shielded the child with your body, her head safely caged between your arms and chest.

You craned your head over your shoulders to figure out where the shots were fired but then a feeling of lightness passed through you followed by a growing thickness at the back of your throat. You coughed, the force of it made you keel forward, and as you looked down you saw fresh blood splattered on the face of the girl, her eyes wide with horror as she looked up at you.

Then you felt it, a burning sensation that enveloped the entirety of your right side which left you cold. When you looked to your side your shirt clung to your skin, soaked with blood.

No.

You sputtered again and you tried to breathe but the pain only intensified and instead of feeling relief, the act smothered you–it felt like you were drowning. Then everything began to blend together: the shapes lost their edges and some images doubled, but the light seemed to intensify on its own, swallowing all in its wake. Then you sagged forward and the ringing in you ears, too, blared unceasingly.

No.

You must…

The child…

Wait.

Alexia–

“–are you okay?”

You started as Derek’s voice brought you from your reverie, your mind someplace else that you’d already forgotten but the feeling that you were missing something important lingered behind in the back of your mind.

“Huh?”

“Honey, your brother’s been trying to get your attention for the past minute. Are you alright?” The familiar voice of your mom brought your focus to her. She sat at the head of the long table while Derek opposite you, and you found twin pairs of blue eyes looking at you with concern. Your mom stood, chair scraping against the tiled floor as she did and she made her way towards you. She put a palm over your forehead once she was close enough before she asked, “do you have a fever?”

“Mom, I’m fine. I’m just–” You began but suddenly, a wave of exhaustion came over you which left you cold. It was as if a sheet of ice was put over you and you felt the coldness cling to your bones, weighing you down as your body slowly began to freeze over. “I’m–I’m just tired. I think I’ll rest up now.”

When you moved to stand, staggering slightly due to the weakness in your knees, Derek snatched your hands and clung to them, and you looked at him in alarm, eyes wide.

“Please, don’t. Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth, the corners of his mouth drooped low in a pained grimace, blue eyes glazed over and brows furrowed in a silent plea.

His obsecration confused you and you were about to ask him why you shouldn’t rest if you felt tired when your mother placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip gentle yet firm. You turned to her and when you found her gaze, she wore the same expression as your brother.

“You’re brother’s right, honey. Just–please, just stay with us for a bit more.”

What was going on? Why weren’t they letting you go?

Another wave of fatigue doused over you but this time, pain erupted from your chest. So intense was it that it nearly made you keel over the table, nails digging into its hard surface as you tried to catch your breath but with each inhale the more it felt like you were running out of air.

“I’ll–I’ll join you in a bit. I just… I just need a nap.” You staggered to your feet, pulling your hands away from Derek’s grip with the remaining strength you had and brushed off your mom’s protest.

As you passed the full-body mirror just beside your bedroom door, you saw your reflection, haggard and pale, and with her were the familiar silhouettes of the people that haunted you… your mother and father. They stood there behind you–your mother to your right and your father to the left–but you only found an empty space where they stood when you whipped your head back to look for them.

So there you stood, rooted in front of the mirror as you soaked their images in but for some reason, your couldn’t quite discern their faces. They were blurred; it was as if someone had swiped their thumb over the freshly laid ink of their image and made their features indecipherable.

Longing prompted you to reach out a hand to try and trace the lost edges of their faces but instead of meeting the mirror’s smooth surface like you expected, your fingers sank into the mirror like it was made of water. Quickly, in fear that it would hurt you, you retracted your hand and you watched in awe as the mirror image went still again, back to the reflection of yourself and your parents.

Then out of curiosity you plunged your hand again into the mirror and instead of feeling pain, you felt… nothing. The sensations in your hand in the mirror stopped as if it had ceased to exist completely.

Would it soothe then the pain in your body if you stepped into it?

The thought tempted you and you stepped forward, ready to sink into this silver miracle, but something stopped you–a weight on your shoulder pulled you back from the mirror. You staggered backwards, caught off guard from the force of it, but when you looked back you found nobody however this time, when you returned your attention to the mirror, the reflection of your parents was gone.

Emotions bubbled in your throat, bitter grief and burning confusion a familiar taste on your tongue. Where did they go? Why did they leave you? And as these questions filtered through your mind, another wave of exhaustion doused over you, its weight was unbearable. You needed relief, and soon.

You were ready to step into the mirror–into oblivion–but it wasn’t there anymore. In fact, everywhere you looked there was nothing, just negative space as if the light had dissolved all existence but you. You looked down and you saw your reflection on the still water you were apparently standing on.

It was so still, so peaceful, and you feel so heavy. It would be easy to just sink into this blissful nothingness–this silence–after… that’s right, after having witnessed the revolting boil of humanity’s thirst for blood. Yes, that was it, the reason you were here: you were here to forget.

The longer you stared into the water, the more your will to remain standing frayed.

Not a moment later, you let yourself be plunged downwards into the cold water. Into nothingness.

You woke with a start, breathing sharply as you did, the sensation of falling still with you and the memory of the dream you just had lingered. It was about… what was it?

When you opened your eyes, you found golden light and you squinted at the stream of the early sun that found its way through the gap between the heavy curtains. Your cheek was warm against Alexia’s bare back and you relished the way her muscles shifted beneath her skin as she breathed, still deep asleep.

With her so close like this a sense of peace and calm washed over you, the kind that only Alexia’s presence could provide. You turned your head slightly and shifted closer to her, pressing a soft kiss on one of her shoulder blades before you nuzzled the nape of her neck where her scent was most prominent.

You sighed as you breathed her in.

“What are you up to back there?” Alexia’s voice, rough and heavy from slumber, met your ears and the question elicited a small laugh from you.

“Nothing. Just getting comfortable.”

Alexia hummed then she murmured, “come here.”

You moved as she began to turn and disappointment filled you from the separation but when she pulled you into her embrace after she settled on her back, the disappointment quickly faded away. And when she kissed you, soft and languid, everything melted away except for the tender warmth of Alexia’s lips.

You were content.

Suddenly, a gnawing feeling seeped into the edges of your mind and, little by little by little, apprehension filled you. There was something you’d forgotten, somewhere you needed to be.

You pulled away from Alexia’s lips. “What time is it?”

“Don’t go.”

Her answer jarred you. You lifted yourself up on your elbow and considered Alexia, confused as to why she would say such a thing. She knew you had to go. How could you not go? Where else could you possibly be? So you asked her as much.

“No, you don’t have to. Please.” Alexia placed a hand on your cheek, her eyes glassy. You sighed, turned your cheek away from her touch, and extricated yourself from her warm embrace. You stood at the foot of the bed and regarded Alexia again who was now sitting up, the sheets pooled around her waist, her chest bare, shoulders hunched forward as she looked at you. You only shook your head before you went into the en suite bathroom to get ready.

Once you got in the shower you, unsurprisingly, thought of Alexia and your confusion returned twofold. Why was she making this difficult? She knew you had to go. You already told her…

At that thought, you frowned as you tried to remember. When did you tell her? Why did you need to leave? The questions were beginning to make your head hurt so you left the shower, wrapped yourself in a towel and headed to the closet. In there, you found your stack of simple white clothes. You picked a white shirt and a matching pair of jeans and you made your way to the bedroom door.

As you passed by the bed, you saw Alexia just as you left her and from where you stood, you saw how small she looked. And those eyes… they shone with something you could only name as plea, the tears in them now in danger of falling.

Your chest ached and so did your head.

You shook your head and made your way to Alexia, pressed an apologetic kiss against her temples, then you moved to the door.

You opened it and an abyss greeted you, a world of no outlines, shape nor colour, just a brilliant white that called to you. Its pull was magnetic, like a tide that wanted to sweep you away, but there was something keeping you in place, an invisible tether and it was anchored to the woman sitting in your bed.

“Please, don’t go.”

You had one foot out of the door when Alexia spoke with such gentleness you couldn’t do anything but look over your shoulder. The sight of her crying made the pounding in your temples unbearable and the pain in your chest blazed anew, excruciating and cruel. The world blurred and warmth slipped down your cheeks.

Why were you crying? Why was this difficult? You had to leave, you were about to miss something important.

“Alexia, why?” You sobbed, clutching your chest. It hurt.

She was out of the bed now, right beside you, and she reached out and cupped your face with one hand, the other went to your hand on the door handle. Her touch that used to soothe you, that used to bring you peace and clam, sent pain to every nerve in your body. You gasped, your chest was in danger of bursting and your knees lost their strength. And then you remembered why you needed to leave: you needed this pain to disappear; you had to get better.

Finally, your knees buckled under your weight but Alexia was there to catch you, her body strong and firm, and oh, so warm.

“Alexia, please let me go,” you sobbed into her arms.

Everything hurt. But she held you, unyielding.

“Stay. Please, stay with me,” she whispered in your ear and the words were followed by another wave of pain. This time, you screamed in agony and clawed at Alexia’s shoulders to get yourself away but still, she didn’t budge.

“I got you. I got you. I got you,” she repeated as every nerve in your body screamed at you. Everything coalesced into a singular, never-ending noise but Alexia’s voice pierced through the veil like a silver lining, a life line that you held onto as you were washed away into an ocean of light.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: sometimes it just hits you: the magnitude of man's madness. where does it stop? when? who will pay? why?#cant think anymore right now but let me know what you think about the story so far #apologies for the mistakes i wrote this in sleep deprived mode ill fix them later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

498 notes · View notes

fossilizedhysterics · 16 days

Text

troubled teen and cat obsessed 9 year old get trapped in the backrooms and do a found family (REAL)

#i knowwww oc posts dont do that good here... but i dont care #also. first time having human ocs in??? a long ass time ok. who knows how long ill stay attached 2 these guys #i have trouble with staying invested in stories about humans. i can only write about cats #but this idea came to me in a divine vision #and now i cant stop thinking about it #oc: casey #oc: layla #out of bounds #<- story name.....#apologies if laylas braids look weird at all... still getting used to drawing them #original character #my art #art #ocs #original characters #my ocs

17 notes · View notes

waterfallofspace · 9 months

Text

One Is Not Better Than None

Soooo I was scrolling through my google docs and remembered this little AU that I started writing (with the help of @themiseryandcompany) a few months back when I first joined snzblr~

And well, the actual 6 part story where they meet isn't finished, and reading it back... the parts that ARE finished could use a lot of editing~ it was one of my first attempts at snzfics, but I did find this little drabble/side story from the same AU~

It's not good, definitely not up to my current standards, but I did a little editing to make it hopefully readable, aaaaand since I've been a bit slow with content, I'll throw it out there incase anyone wants it!

~For Context: In this AU B/akugo is a doctor, and S/hoto is his boyfriend/a barista~ Word Count: 1.3k of utter nonsense that I'm posting because why not~

All Characters Written As 18+ In This Story, (picture late 20's)

~~~~~~~

Katsuki’s days off are few and far between, so when he does get time to spend at home, he finds that he often has a shadow.

Shoto seems to require constant contact, as if he fears that should their bodies stop touching for even a second, Katsuki would be out the door again. It would be annoying beyond belief, if it was anyone else. But it’s not anyone else.

He smirks over the journal he’s reading as Shoto lets out a breath that borders on a whine. He’s been trying to beat that level for an hour, and it seems like he’s just had to restart once more.

“It’s not funny,” Shoto starts, catching Katsuki’s eyes as he glares up from his perch on Katsuki’s lap. A half-hearted gaze at best. “I’ve been at this forever. I just wanna beat it but this one boss has a frankly offensive level of regen. I know the strategy but I keep messing up the timing.”

With another sigh of frustration, the glare is long forgotten, instead replaced by a look that leaves Katsuki fighting the urge to kiss him until all the breath is sucked out of their lungs.

“Why don’t you just take a break and come back to it later when you’re less frustrated?” Katsuki offers, running a hand through Shoto’s mismatched hair. “Isn’t that what you always tell me when a recipe I’m trying for the first time isn’t going the way I want it to?”

“Yeah, but…”

“What, too proud to take your own advice, Icy-Hot?”

It’s a nickname that came into being the first time Katsuki stayed over. Shoto had been sick at the time, and it was one of the first nights of pure vulnerability they’d experienced.

With a fever, his body gets incredibly hot, but at the same time, he’s always swearing it’s freezing, shivering to make his point. During the night Katsuki tried to get him to take some blankets off, lest he smother himself to death, and Shoto’s reply was “I’m an icy pop”. (To this day he still blames the fever talk for that little nugget).

To which Katsuki responded with a lighthearted “Oh yeah? Then why is said ‘icy pop’ so hot he nearly burns to the touch? Icy pop, more like Icy-Hot” and it just stuck from there. He normally saves it for playful teasing, such as today, but occasionally it slips out with a touch of softness when Shoto falls asleep in his arms.

“No, this is different. I’m not frustrated, I just wahh!-” He breaks off, and Katsuki glances at him to see his eyes glossing over, mouth hanging slightly open, right on the brink for a few seconds until-

“heH-! hH’KESHHiew!”

A beat passes, Shoto’s eyes still unfocused, Katsuki biting a blessing back on his tongue.

“Snff- Bless me.” And with that, Shoto’s back to the level, leaving Katsuki to stare at him with a mystified expression.

After several minutes of silence, and Katsuki’s eyes never leaving his face, mouth still slightly ajar, Shoto finally breaks away from his level to glance up at his boyfriend. “Uhh… what’s wrong..?”

“Y-you… sneezed…”

Shoto lets out a small chuckle, letting his phone rest on the couch as he sits up to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “Yeah? And? I do that quite often, you should know that by now.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, as Shoto continues with a smirk. “And even if I didn’t, it’s a perfectly normal bodily function. You’re a doctor, I’m worried for your patients if hearing someone sneeze shocks you this much.”

“But… you… it was…. only one?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

There’s another pause, then Katsuki begins again, his words coming out uncharacteristically timid. “It’s… it’s never just one…”

The dumbfounded nature of Katsuki’s voice is enough to make Shoto burst into laughter. The joyous sounds finally snap his boyfriend out of the trance that the single sneeze had put him in, as he lightly punches Shoto’s arm.

Shoto pulls away, still shaking with the joyous tune dancing from his chest, rocking the couch with each burst. For a minute, Katsuki feels his heart start beating through his throat, mind running wild. His full laughter is so rare… I’d do anything to hear it for the rest of my life.

Finally coming to his senses, Katsuki fires back with, “Hey, don’t laugh at me! I’ve never heard you sneeze just once before, it’s always at least two, more often in the hundreds”

This earns him a very weak punch, laughter still dancing through Shoto’s eyes. “I’m not that bad!” Sniffling lightly to test the waters, Shoto shrugs. “But yeah, just the one, I don’t feel any more. I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it next time I’m sure.”

Shoto reaches forward, touching their lips in an apology for the harm that his lack of a fit had apparently caused. Katsuki leans into the kiss, but his eyes still seem a bit far away.

~~~~~~~

The rest of the day, it felt as if Shoto was under constant surveillance. Every time he looked over at Katsuki, his boyfriend was watching him, and would quickly avert his eyes, pretending to be doing something else.

Finally enough is enough. Shoto stands from the chair he was lounging in, and walks over to Katsuki who’s currently trying, and failing, to pull his eyes away long enough to read an article on his phone.

Wordlessly, Shoto leans down and rubs his nose against the cat-infested couch. Usually his meds are enough to starve off any really desperate attacks, but living in an apartment with your allergens is enough to set anyone off.

Add to that Shoto’s already sensitive nose, and it’s a sure thing that you’ll get at least a couple small fits per day. However, right now he needs that fit immediately, and his meds seem to be working a bit too well, so it’s time for drastic measures.

Rubbing his nose at all was a sure fire way to form a tickle, but add to that rubbing it against an allergen, and the reaction was certain to be quick and merciless.

“What are you doi-” Katsuki starts, but is cut off by Shoto’s breath catching, as he holds up a finger, attempting to explain himself before the fit can start.

“You... w- were... hehh- ihh... st- staring... at m... ESH’shiew-! Ishh’yu-! kishh’oo-! tishh’iew-!”

Still trying to catch up, Katsuki can only blink, muttering to himself, “I was staring…”

“huh- ishh-tishh-kESH’iew! Tishh’oo! Heh- hH’kschh!”

“Bless you-”

“hep’kschh-kshh-nggxt’shiew! hehh… hH’ngnt! G’nxxt!uhh Hh’ ihhh… hDT-”

Shoto pauses for a second, watery eyes pointed at the ceiling, seemingly stuck in a hitchy agony, caught between the overwhelming urge to sneeze, and the denial taunting him.

With a shaky exhale, and a snff, he tries to finish the sentence he began earlier, “Staring ahahh at-”

-which the sneezes pick as the perfect time to release themselves. “ihh’keschh’oo-! hH’ISH’hieww-! Staring at me. Oh, bless me. It was starting to scare me a little."

Katsuki flushes at the accusation, admitting to himself, and only himself, that there may be a touch of truth in it. He sheepishly hands some tissues to Shoto, who takes them with a wink and a chuckle, cleaning himself up as Katsuki averts his eyes.

Once finished, he drapes himself onto the couch, lips hungrily capturing Katsuki in a deep kiss, only stopping once he needs to take a desperate breath and duck another “hh’kssh-! Ihh… heH! hahh’keTSH’iew-!” into his shoulder.

“Bless you… Ya know, you shouldn’t have done that, you’re gonna be sneezing for hours now ya dumbass.” The words may sound harsh, but there’s no fire behind them.

Shoto lets his head rest on Katsuki’s chest, looking up at him, eyes alight with mischief. “Well worth it in my book. As much as I enjoy you watching me, I was starting to worry you’d forgotten how to blink.”

This earns him another light punch, but the laughter that comes with it makes his statement even more true.

Anything is worth getting to hear that laughter. The true kind, the kind he doesn’t let other people hear. I’d do anything to hear it for the rest of my life.

Slowly he lets his eyes close, drifting off to the sound of Katsuki’s heartbeat, their breathing falling in sync, exactly how it was meant to be.

La fin.

#waterfalldrabbles #because this is not a fic as much as a...#'tosses it at you and scurries away' type of drabble #it's not very good but hey! it doesn't need to be!#just a little bit of nonsense as a light apology for taking so long to fill requests or post anything worthwhile~#i am currently in the middle of a specific collab with a beautifully talented person #and I'm INSANELY excited to share our baby <333 #buuuuut for now~ have this nonsense and please forgive me for it #(i will say tho~ reading it does make me a little happy because I can definitely see improvement now!)#(whiiiich does mean that it just looks even worse haha~)#okay okay ill stop stalling and hit post #b/akugou & s/hoto doctor AU #incase i ever finish/post the actual fic theres a tag for that now

43 notes · View notes

snekdood · 5 months

Text

if ppl telling you "jewish ppl in israel were already kicked out of other countries and have no where else to go" makes you feel compelled to call whoever said that a "zionist", I really just dont think you give af about jewish ppl's lives quite frankly.

if your "free palestine" means "getting rid" of all jewish civilians in israel I think you're probably just a heartless asshole.

#two state solution ftw #or at least something along those lines #yelling at average jewish ppl who ARENT in israel is antisemitic #anti semitism- no matter how 'big of a deal' you think it is naturally makes jewish ppl feel unsafe by default #where do they go when theres nowhere else thats safe? you guessed it- probably to israel.#which is WHAT netanyahu wants. he wants scared controllable civilians to think hes the only one who can protect them #so you being anti semitic and not checking yourself on it or being 'whatever its nbd' about it is making everything so much worse #STOP BEING SO FUCKING APATHETIC FUCK ILL BEAT YOU UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL SOMETHING IF I HAVE TO #i dont feel like i can in good conscious reblog your 'free palestine' posts bc idk wtf the op thinks about jewish ppl being in #israel. and at this point i dont have faith in leftists to not notice the antisemitism in some of these ppl and call it out #its not something we can 'push aside and deal with and apologize for later' its ACTIVELY MAKING THE SITUATION WORSE AND NEEDS #TO BE ADDRESSED RIGHT THE FUCK NOW #maybe jewish ppl wouldnt be calling it 'self defense' if yall didnt keep being antisemitic and making them feel like they have to cling #to israel to stay tf alive. fuck.#OBVIOUSLY the response to what hamas did is disproportionate and affecting more people than israel says it intends to target #but thats the govt. and actual regular people are worried about their families. its disproportionate and probably being used as an excuse #to genocide palestinians but this wouldnt be happening if hamas didnt basically GIVE the israeli govt the excuse to do it.#free palestine. from hamas and from the israeli govt. and dont have genocidal intent toward jewish ppl.#thats all i want.#hamas' escalation did nothing but hurt everyone and make things worse especially for palestinians.

15 notes · View notes

munamania · 4 months

Text

i dont wanna be a dick and act like i have no responsibility in this but after a point dont u think if all you ever say to ur friend is Omg you never make it out why dont you ever come out with us you bail all the time youre such a flake etc. dont u think that person (me) is like. not gonna feel so inclined to. be there

#like. yeah i was bad last semester i get it. and probably i shouldve tried at least once or twice to push thru #but i was so exhausted. and every time they would bring up hanging out it was on my longest days #and when i casually brought this up they were just like Well we have long days too. Okay!#and i love and miss these friends and i know for the most part. or at least think. theyre just teasing #i hate being seen as the flake like any time i do have to be like Oh i cant make that or Shit im sorry i have to bail #i try to offer an alternative???? and they never compromise on that. how is that fair like im not just outright rejecting u all the time #not to mention most of the time last semester it was always gonna be somewhere super easy for them to get home and far from me #im not like constantly holding this against them btw but i feel like they're holding it against me and i dont have any more apologies in me #anyway. that said. if theyre somewhere really expensive and far from me tn and i get out of work early #i. probably will not make it. lol! if theyd be willing to come a little closer to my place to one of the dives or some shit thatd be great #and like im not doing much today until class and work so really like. i WILL try. but i think they could sometimes not go for the most #expensive and inconvenient option as well. and these r all things ill say if it becomes like a problem problem or smth #but rn im not gonna be a dickhead and shit on their plans #but also! ok whatever im not gonna keep going on i just feel shitty im not 100% better from being sick and im just frustrated #about having to fuckign grovel over and over and over. i meant it the first few times now im just like #u could try not to be an asshole to me for five seconds too. like. i am very clearly not someone trying to secretly stop being friends #w yall. things happen #abby talks #and maybe this is an esp sore spot bc like ive certainly had some of you bail on me or be flaky or whatever before. and i didnt throw #a fucking fit to your face about it. probably bc it actually did feel more mean spirited sometimes #OK im sorry im not trying to make my friends sound evil and its mostly just the one and like im working on forgiving her for it cause it #was years ago but also like christ!

10 notes · View notes

bla-a-a-a-a-a · 1 month

Text

I didn't get that *gestures vaguely* feeling when looking at this one so have

#my art #art #digital drawing #guy #artists on tumblr #sorry if im using the tag wrong im a dumbass and unprofessional #and that feels professional so sry if im dumb #doot doot #sry #i should stop apologizing #that was on purpose #ill shut up and post now

5 notes · View notes

sparring-spirals · 2 years

Note

I’m not great at explaining my thoughts but last episode it hit me that in C2 Caleb was almost perfectly built to help Veth and now I look at Imogen who’s life has been going into people’s heads and Laudna who in the end game needs a person out of their head and I am shocked at how these things just keep lining up seemingly perfectly because I don’t think the cast collaborates to that level with character creation.

First of all, lets all take a Moment™ to appreciate Caleb and Veth, Partners In Crime My Beloveds. Codependent and desperate and holding each other so close. <3 <3

Second of all- oh yeah, the parallel of voices in heads and diving in and pulling out- very nice. God dammit Imogen and Laudna. 🥺

But, ah, allowing me to get on my soapbox for a moment:

I will say, that more than just a thing of character creation OR things conveniently lining up, I think its a testament to the casts ability to do collaborative, character driven storytelling. To craft a character is one thing, but to have that character grow and be shaped by the forces and other characters around it, to have that starting point and then lean into everything that grows around it rather than adhering to What You Made This Character For, is very difficult to do, and also facilitates incredible stories.

Humans love looking for patterns and common threads and taking little coincidences and turning them into stories, letting them grow off of that. Humans love stories about connections and growth and lives colliding and intertwining.

Coincidences can just be that, coincidences, and there are millions of them that happen constantly. When you take the time to flesh those out, to ascribe meaning to them, to follow through and reinforce, thats when they start becoming themes, and parallels, and character motifs, and they become THINGS, and- it gets fun! But this approach also requires you provide that space and flexibility for the organic coincidences to flourish, for all those possibilities to spin out and breathe and grow without getting too wrapped up in telling your specific story, in a specific way.

I think the nice thing about extended media with downtime and fluff and character spaces like CR is that if you give it the space, a lot of stories tell themselves. People will pick out patterns and meanings and thoroughlines, and some of them are intentional and a lot of them won't be. And as a story progresses, not all of them will get realized, not all of them can get realized. And. IMO. Thats fine, and to be expected.

In my opinion, good storytelling in this kind of medium is about that balance- about providing the flexibility and openness where you let the stories and characters grow on their own, you work with the people and characters and environment and let those organically shape your character and story and landscape. But you also, as you progress, to pick and choose what threads to follow, what threads to reinforce, and making sure there's that consistency, that whatever you choose makes you look back and go oh. Oh. Of course. Of course.

Anyway this is a lot of personal opinions about how stories and crunchy characters can be told and made and I'm not claiming its the Only or Best way. But, IMO, I think characters like Veth and Caleb and Imogen and Laudna are lovely examples of fascinating coincidence, intentional creations and actions, and collaborative, thoughtful character work by the cast, and I'm thrilled by it. :D

#critical role #character meta #meta #narrative meta #imogen temult #laudna #caleb widogast #veth brenatto #my genuine apologies for how soapboxy this got i got really enthusiastic about it. its one of my fave things about CR!#its also EXTREMELY personal preference driven and i get that. but its also why i didnt mind the end of C2 although i know some folks did #and i get why! but the ending both followed through on threads i appreciated AND left enough open endedness for me to just.#interpret anything else i didnt like as much that it hit a really nice middle ground for me.#with a sprawling story like CR i kind of think its inevitable that there will be themes and stories that feel like they get dropped #and i understand peoples disappointments when it happens- i get disappointed sometimes too!#but i think its kind of a give and take and part of What Happens when youve got 4 hours weekly of open ended storytelling #so i look at things i enjoy and thoroughlines i like and. if its good enough for me. im fine with it.#Character Consistency™#alright ill stop talking now #spar speaks #ask away!#partners in crime #sorcery pact #my meta

62 notes · View notes