To elaborate on my ruekirtho throuple thoughts, sometimes I think about a world where their shared love for mytho brought rue and fakir together instead of driving them apart. They’re both incredibly lonely kids who have lost too much and, as much as they care for mytho, a heartless doll isn’t replacement for real human companionship. So they find each other.
Rue knows it will never last. No one beyond her Prince will ever love her. She sees the way Fakir throws rocks at the flock of crows that gathers around her. When he discovers her identity—and she knows he will discover her identity one day—they’ll go back to being enemies. He is the Knight and she is the daughter of the Raven, his killer. Still, it’s nice to have a friend even for a little while. So she lets herself forget. She forgets who, what, she is. She forgets that there was ever a before. She forgets that they won’t last.
Fakir knows there is something very, very wrong in Rue’s life. He sees the deep scratches that stand out against her almost unnaturally pale skin. She speaks in a hushed tone with a haunted look in her eyes when it’s time to go home. She won’t tell him anything, though. He doesn’t even know where she lives; it’s as if she disappears at the end of the day. He just hopes that one day, when it comes down to it, he’ll be able to protect her from whatever haunts her.
By the time the story goes into motion, the two, along with Mytho, are near inseparable. When Mytho begins regaining his heart, Rue and Fakir work together to put a stop to it. When Rue begins losing track of the days, feeling as if someone else is trying to claw their way out of her chest, she almost goes to Fakir for help. Almost.
It is, of course, Fakir who shatters the illusion that is Rue. Her one and only friend calls her an ugly crow, and in that moment she remembers what she is. What she’s always been. They’ve been enemies from birth. This “friendship” was nothing more than the a sad illusion created by a lonely girl—a girl who no longer exists. And she knows now, in her father’s absence, her “friend” will die at her hand. This is their fate and fate cannot be changed. Still, it was nice while it lasted.
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sometimes the exact words “i love you” don’t have to be said because “i love you” can be “i knew they’d call you”, or “we already think you’re crazy”, or “it’s really good to have your back” or “it’s great to hear your voice again”
and then sometimes “i love you” can be said through the simplest gestures like bringing her tea after a rough day, or holding her hand when she really needs the comfort, or dropping everything and anything for her, or putting your own career on the line for her
and sometimes “i love you” never even has to be said because you both know and sometimes that’s enough
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"Every time you think I'm not looking, you're looking." "Maybe I just like looking at you."
in the context of "I was looking at her the whole day, trying not to get caught doing it." "I was just happy to be near her." when he first met Shannon is actually cruel to me personally...
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Wait omg..... Jessica Cruz probably did rifle... my specialized sports knowledge coming in CLUTCH
Okay so I barely practiced and made it to regionals like once so im NOT the expert here but uh headcanoning that Jess did air rifle when she was a teen. Like idk if it would be as part of a team like with a high school (what I'm familiar with) vs like an individual thing vs like a travel/competitive team (it depends on the sitch in her area growing up) but she definitely went to some national matches (probably including JOs/JO quals like i think she was GOOD). I think she probably would have quit competitively following a bad shot at nationals (relatable) along with anxiety about competition (ALSO relatable) but still kept up with shooting casually for fun and relaxation and to hang out with friends etc.
She definitely would have shot smallbore competitively too but I never did that bc I was lazy so idk to much abt it competitively
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rain's ghoul body with pots needing much more salt than his human body with pots needed. all i had to say
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Saw two posts recently and I disagreed with them for the same reason and that is, y’all better not be falling into the pit of dissing things bc they’re not “sophisticated” enough for you or something.
Like someone complaining about cutesy wutesy terms or like stupid fanfic writing. Some people be saying stuff like ‘no! You have to like real books! Only use real words to describe yourself!’ Who are you? The cringe police?
Actually the colloquialisation of language is kinda a complicated topic. Yeah we shouldn’t dumb down words and stuff when it comes to discussing serious things and we shouldn’t be calling anyone else things that they don’t want to be called. But if someone is using casual language to refer to themselves and they’re someone who can ‘reclaim’ (for lack of a better term) that language, then I don’t think it’s hurting anyone. Sometimes we need to use serious language and sometimes we don’t.
And let’s not make fun of hashtag weird fanfic or fandom (as long as it doesn’t actually promote harmful views or cause harm).
There’s obviously exceptions to both these points but my general rule is, let’s not attack things for the sake of ‘it’s weird’ or ‘different’. Being judgemental and shaming people to conform to arbitrary standards is the talking point of literally every single hate crimer. That mindset is used by ableists, racists, sexists, queerphobes etc etc. Lets not forget that.
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kinda obsessed with ambiguously (to the public ay least) romantic/platonic losers. like, someone, paparazzi probably, see bill kiss stan goodbye & theyre like “famous author bill denbrough, cheating on his wife with Mystery Man???” & bills like “he literally also has a wife.” (patsy’s not phased shes used to it ((she Would be phased at first but. after a few years…))) people start noticing all the losers go to florida together regularly to see… some guy??? that accountant guy who bill kissed that one time is there too??? people see richie & bev kissing one time & theyre like “we’re both gay.” LIKE. idk . IDK.
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