did you know the origins of the real historical Israel Hands are unknown until Blackbeard gives him command of a ship , did you know his fate after Blackbeard is unknown , did you know they’re writing a character who has to figure out who he is without Blackbeard when literally no one knows who he is without Blackbeard
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when beatrix screams that none of her allies will die today,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
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“You burst into my solitude, demanding to be seen. You were overwhelming. Just wild and weird and brilliant, and I never had a choice. I liked everything about you. Even the scary parts. I wanted to drown in your fucking bathwater.”
Seven Days in June by Tia Williams
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really anxious out of no where for an hour what is happening
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changing my nose jewelry for the first time and almost passing out or throwing up
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I just heard Link Neal say "gargle on his kids then spit em in his mouth I told him slurp me up like spaghetti"
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Every time I revisit chapter 86 and the events right after the group talks Marcille down, I'm always struck by this bit here:
In particular, how similar it is to this:
The Winged Lion ate the same desire in both of them, more or less (I'm sure there are some nuances in both flavor and intent, but they are clearly similar things here). The Lion basically used this technique to kill Thistle, and for Marcille it was... not insignificant, but something she and her friends overcame without even fully realizing it was an obstacle.
I feel like this is another small piece of the story that shows how important support and love are - in navigating mental illness, in dealing with abuse or addiction, or in working through any other similar struggle that can be read into the Lion and his eating of desires.
It almost feels like Marcille was able to borrow the desires of her friends. She loves them and she trusts them, so even when she didn't have a desire to free herself from the Lion, the care they had for her well being still mattered to her.
It's the same thing later, with her hair.
She isn't able to notice the way her messy hair is making things harder, let alone do anything about it. But when Chilchuck points it out and then braids it back for her...
It's better. She likes it, things are easier now. Even though it isn't a desire she can feel for herself, it's not something that doesn't effect her. And because her friends care - because they know her well enough to notice the difference - she is given the chance to have a preference and to ask for their help.
We can obviously see some parallel ideas here with Mithrun and Kabru as well, but I'd also like to point out that Thistle gets this grace, too. Thistle, who had no one to help him up once he lost his will to resist, or to encourage him to find new desires once the Lion ate them all.
Thistle says he doesn't need anything, anymore...
But he is given an apology anyways.
It is not a kindness he desires. It is not a kindness he is able to ask for.
But it is a kindness that helps. It is a kindness that matters.
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It’s currently 42°C (~108°F) with humidity, so to avoid the heat of the stove or BBQ, I ordered a pizza for dinner. I drove to pick it up. This set off the following chain of events:
I wait as a car backs out of a space in front of the pizza place. When it drives past me, I see, in the passenger seat, my high school best friend, eating a slice of pizza. As I wait for my own pizza, I re-experience the acute pain of losing her when we grew apart during our first year of university. I am astounded that, after all this time and my having moved away from and back to this city, it looks as though we have the same go-to pizza spot. I remember her impulsive enthusiasm. I am unsurprised that she remains a person who would open the pizza box in the car because she can’t wait until she gets home.
It’s rush hour and the streets are busy as I drive home with my pizza. At a major intersection, a pickup truck loaded up with wooden pallets waits to turn from the cross street. I glance over as I drive past the truck because that is a high stack of pallets in the truck bed. My gaze lowers. Driving the truck is possibly the guy I went to prom with. I continue driving home, remembering where the guy used to live, thinking, If he turns here, it’s him. He does not turn there, but he’s still behind me when I get to my street. He does not turn where I turn. Is this the guy I went to prom with and he didn’t turn at his street because he thought he recognized me too and wanted to see if I would turn down my street to see if it was me?
If I’d been any slower going to get the pizza, I wouldn’t have seen Her leaving the parking lot. If I’d been any faster, I wouldn’t have seen Him in the first car waiting to turn at the intersection. I almost never run into anyone I know, so... big night for nostalgia.
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