physically taxing

the problem with MCU Tony Stark characterisation in fanfic

okay so I love smol, soft, vulnerable Tony Stark as much as the next person, but sometimes I think we forget some super important things when writing him:

  • literally within an hour of IM1 we see Tony hammering metal with basic tools in a cave which is very physically taxing for someone not used to it
  • we see Tony Stark miniaturise the arc reactor, something his own dad never figured out, in the space of three months whilst probably battling chest infections, the threat of death and low cognitive function (the fluctuating temperate, irregular meals, sleep cycle and high risk of infection from open heart surgery drastically affects your thought process, genius or not) - with fuck all available
  • there is the suggestion that Tony + Running isn’t so much of a novel idea in IM1′s ‘Dogfight’ as Rhodey doesn’t bite back and say ‘you don’t jog’ in response to Tony’s flighty responses - that would be the first thing a best friend would point out to their fellow bullshitter
  • he and Happy practise MMA against one another (IM2) and Happy isn’t someone to go gentle - Tony isn’t one to want Happy to pull his punches so Tony is proficient in some form of close combat when fully cognisant - we see Happy’s skills when he finally (!) punches one trained fighter as Tash knocks off everyone else. if Happy can do that, Tony certainly can - and even better now he’s a full Avenger (we ignore Civil War, okay)
  • he literally takes a sledgehammer to his own home and re-discovers and element once again previously hidden to his own dad - a man heralded and lauded as The Genius - so he’s very proactive and willing to move shit around to figure something out
  • we also see the strength needed in the synthesising of this element - his arms are literally b u l g i n g  with muscle mass, so this gives us the nod that Tony does work out to keep himself fit
  • in IM3 he literally has nothing? he makes his OWN weapons again from store-avaliable items and takes down literally a whole compound under his own steam (reminiscent of IM1 building of the suit with a box of scraps) so he isn’t exactly ‘useless’ when given the correct tools
  • despite that bullshit scene where he suddenly ‘forgets’ that magazines aren’t universal for all, we know Tony handles guns - he does it when he’s escaped the bed in the basement, when facing the Mandarin etc and he’s confident enough to use them correctly (deliberately missing Trevor but close enough to make him shit himself) so this crap about him suddenly being unable to shoot a light from that distance is again, bullshit
  • he literally drags the iron man suit through the snow - whilst it’s (MK42) is about 240 pounds on, it’s gonna be a lot heavier with all the hydraulics and electrics powered down. it takes core strength to make it and drag it, guys, so he’s pretty well built for a civvie
  • in avengers he spends just as much time moving - you need insane core strength to maintain a flying position, metal suit or not, and you need to be physically fit to fly it too if you think of how often it would have glitched and malfunctioned with hits before it rebooted. just because he’s in a metal suit it doesn’t mean it’s effortless and JARVIS does it for him - it’s like riding a horse. the movements are subtle but you’re using so many fucking muscles and so much energy
  • in AOU he literally fucking JUMPS FROM THE BALCONY ONTO A BOT floating in mid air like, that’s super gutsy for a civvie who has no official ‘spy’/army training or no backup Green Machine but by this point nothing surprises us about this fuckwit tbh (it gets me every time when I see him do that)
  • he gets thrown into walls so often with enough force to knock out a normal person like, i’m surprised he, Rhodey and Bruce don’t have constant concussion tbh - in IM3 with a missile blast/ in AOU against the wall after Ultron and down to the floor from a great height
  • he’s super fucking gutsy and takes massive risks for someone with no healing factor or special skills - in IM3 when he faces off against the Mandarin with nothing/jumps off a balcony on the rig and slides down the bending metal before jumping into fucking mid-air relying only on his suits to save him/facing off against Loki and then being thrown out of a window despite not knowing what would happen at all and knowing that his suit wasn’t quite ready/relying only on his mobile gauntlet to save his whole fucking face when Bucky (poor soul) tries to shoot him (unintentionally it isn’t Bucky okay) in the middle of his freak-out (and these are all without the whole suit, only bits and pieces, so don't say he’s a little wallflower he has as many balls as the rest of them in combat)
  • have you seen him in a three piece suit??? his figure is fine af from all this shit 
  • he literally survived a blast to the fucking chest with a bomb, survived palladium poisoning, thought his way out of countless shit, is a certified genius, a massive polyglot, has several doctorates and isn’t the soft, smol, vulnerable little chicken so much fanfiction makes him out to be

I love reading those smol, cutesy fics from time to time too - because lbr MCU!Tony IS small in stature because Robert is, bless his platform shoes - but please remember Tony is actually meant to be a badass physically fit (wiry or lithe, depending on comics or movieverse) superhero - he may not be great at hand-to-hand combat like Cap or twenty feet tall like Thor but he can certainly hold his own fgs.  

Are you fucking kidding me?

I just saw a post telling people that they should be pissed about Koogi’s break

I.am.livid

“We have every right to be pissed”

“She took on this job - do it right”

“Stop treating koogi like she’s special and needs special treatment”

Are you for real?

Like…

This young, young woman creates content for you to drool and gush over weekly and you have the nerve to complain when she needs a rest?

We should be so fucking grateful that we even have Killing Stalking to begin with. 

Not to mention, In japan at least, making manga is an extremely taxing job. They don’t get a break. They literally work all damn day. Aren’t we just fucking lucky that Koogi, in Korea(not speaking for every manhwa artist), has the chance to even have breaks? Not only that, but I’m sure she doesn’t make that much money. So…pumping out this wonderful story, with amazing art, weekly, with little pay, doesn’t deserve a break?

Stop being so damn entitled.

And “treating her like she’s special” - you mean treating her like a human being?

Yeah, the fandom often babies her and worships her feet, but why is that a bad thing? This woman, whom we’re so grateful and appreciative of…who makes this story that we all love and adore…is there something wrong with admiring that?

For fuck sakes, I admire her for being able to even get the manhwa out weekly..

You do have every right to be upset about the hiatus, but pissed? Fuck right off.

Everyone deserves a break. Not to mention, if we never give Koogi a break, how mentally and physically taxing would that be? Working all the time with no break, but you’d have no problem with that, right? Because she’s supposed to be a “professional”, that’s what she signed up for, right?

“I stuck up for her hiatus the first time..but this time..no” Well aren’t you just special. Because she needed a break once, it was all g, no problemo, but a second break???TWO???? No WAY! !!! ! 

It’s.only.one.damn.month

You can’t expect everything to be handed to you on a silver plate without the server needing to rest every now and again.

I’ll say it one more time, stop acting so fucking entitled.

I mean ultimately we need way more regulations in the film industry as a whole for like any kind of sexual or romantic activity like as far as I can tell there is almost no regulation whatsoever in how sex scenes especially are filmed so it falls to the director/producer’s personal ethical code to regulate that kind of thing which as we all know means literally nothing. Even with the rampant and horrifying cases of sexual misconduct we’ve only just begun hearing about I think it’s so telling that virtually every single actress, regardless of sexuality, say they prefer kissing/filming sex scenes with other women because there’s more communication and they feel safer. Like even on sets where everything seems to be run ethically and the actors involved are communicating with each other the actual content of the scene can be so traumatizing for literally everyone involved but ESPECIALLY the actresses. I’m thinking of Big Little Lies where to the best of my knowledge the atmosphere on set was professional and supportive and the actors were checking in with each other but the scenes that were being filmed were just so physically and emotionally taxing that Nicole Kidman was just lying on the floor crying between takes…let alone the stuff that happened on the sets of Blue Is The Warmest Colour and Last Tango In Paris…Like we need concrete, codified regulations. There should be rape choreographers for and counsellors involved and the shoots should involve the absolute bare minimum of people at the very least! And if that’s not possible then like! Don’t film it! So many sex scenes just cut to black anyways! There are a million ways to indicate a rape took place without an explicit scene. Like if people can have science experts on the set of the Big Bang Theory or whatever or make feature films on shoestring budgets everyone can and MUST be able to guarantee the physical and psychological wellbeing of their performers.

anonymous asked:

HEY ROHINI HIT ME WITH A COOL SCIENCE FACT

You have two humans, two individuals, who are going through a ritual. They are sitting at a table. They’re absolutely silent. They’re making no eye contact, and they do nothing more physically taxing than every now and then, one of them picks up their hand and moves a little piece of wood on the table. And if these happen to be the right two individuals in the middle of a chess grandmaster tournament, these people are maintaining blood pressure for six hours running that you only see in a marathon runner. These people are going through thousands of calories a day doing nothing more than thinking. (x)

imagine thinking that a gay trans man would go through HRT (which costs money, tons of planning around both before starting and throughout, has possible health risks, is life-changing), bind (physically taxing, health risks, have to plan around), surgeries (life-changing, money, planning, health risks), complete wardrobe changes, complete lifestyle changes, including openly identifying as trans which is already dangerous and life-impacting at every level that it could effect (work, home, family, romance)… to ‘appropriate’ gay culture… as a ‘heterosexual female’.

guess what: i’m not here for you, not here to look good for you, i could not give less of a shit what you think of me or my body, i’m not an image of a slew of stereotypes in your head, and i’m certainly not going to alter anything about myself for your comfort. i’m here for me, my happiness, my mental and physical well being. get the fuuuck over yourself. 

The Hermit

The winter sun streaming through your window seemed to blind you as you woke up. Yawning, you felt the tip of your cold nose and gently raised yourself from bed to restart the fire. As you slowly crossed your small cabin, you waddled, supporting your large belly with one hand, the other on the small of your back.

“Ready to come out yet?” you asked a few minutes later, rubbing your belly while the fire crackled.

The baby gave a hard kick in return. You giggled, enjoying the strange sensation of your child twisting and turning inside you. Deciding that you would like a cup of coffee, you carefully stand to get the kettle going. As you straighten up, you suddenly feel your stomach tense, and you pause to catch your breath.

“Oof! Maybe you are getting ready to come out!” you say, breathing through what you suspect was an early contraction.

As you go about your morning, you feel a few more contractions. Each is slightly more painful than the last, but they are so far apart that you aren’t worried. You enjoy your coffee and breakfast, reveling in what may be your last day pregnant.

You sigh and watch the snow swirling out the window as you remember the cute young hiker that got you into this situation. He had shown up late at night, hoping to shelter from a late spring storm. You had generously offered to share your bed with him (mostly for the practical purpose of keeping warm), and one thing had led to another.

You hadn’t even realized that you were pregnant until nearly the end of the summer, when you made the trip to the nearest town for supplies. You had decided to make a quick visit to the local doctor, and had been surprised to learn that you were expecting. You hadn’t gone to the doctor as much as you know you should have, but since the trip was so physically taxing it hadn’t felt safe to walk that far.

Besides, you thought to yourself, rubbing the mound of your belly, the tiny old doctor who served the mountain town was creepy. You wouldn’t subject yourself to him when you were perfectly capable of handling things on your own.

You had been handling everything from collecting water to growing and hunting your own food for the last few years you had lived in your cabin. You had been eager to get away from the hustle and bustle of the world and enjoy the beauty of nature, and loved the deep silence around your cabin. Over the course of your pregnancy your growing belly had made things difficult, but you hadn’t had to leave your somewhat hermit-ish, mountain-woman lifestyle like the doctor said you would.

As the day wore on, your contractions grew longer and closer together, and you started preparing for the birth. You heated water for your metal bathtub, gathered towels, and changed into a comfortable nightgown. You made sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack, as you weren’t sure when things would really get going, and you wanted to keep your strength up.

With everything ready, you sat in your armchair by the fire, waiting for something to happen. You tried to distract yourself with books, but you were too excited to focus. You eventually gave up on distractions and just sat admiring your belly, feeling it all over, enjoying the way you had to spread your legs to support its round weight.

Curiously, you gently pulled up your belly, slipping a hand down between your legs to try to check how dilated you were. You were surprised to find that this simple check caused almost immediate arousal. Experimentally, you rubbed your clit, and a shudder of pleasure ran through you. Your belly tightened with another contraction, but the wave of pleasure almost completely masked it.

You continued rubbing yourself, getting wetter every second and enjoying the way your slit was extra sensitive. Your contractions were getting stronger, but instead of feeling painful, they drove you closer to orgasm.

You rocked faster and faster against your hand, anticipating the first release you had had in weeks, and felt yourself topple over the edge into pure bliss. Your toes curled and you moaned loudly as you spasmed in pleasure.

Gasping, you lay back in your chair, enjoying the waves of relaxation. Feeling sleepy, you closed your eyes for a quick nap.

You were awakened by a particularly powerful contraction, followed by a strange feeling of something giving way. Worried, you stood up, and your water immediately broke, flowing out of you and puddling on the wood floor.

Another powerful contraction hit you, and your change in position seemed to be speeding things along.

You waddled to your bathtub, which was still mercifully hot. You check your watch and realize you had only shut your eyes for ten minutes. You think to yourself that you should have tried masturbating a long time ago, as it seemed to have sped your progress immensely.

You spent the next hour alternating between laboring in the bathtub and pacing the cabin. On your third rotation you pause to lean against the kitchen table as your massive belly tightens. You suddenly feel pressure deep inside you, and feel the baby’s head press against your cervix. You spread your feet apart and give in to the urge to bear down.

You feel the baby slide farther down your birth canal, and after the next few contractions you feel the burning that means you’re beginning to crown.

You hadn’t expected the baby to come so fast, and try to move back to the bathtub. You feel the need to push again, but make yourself hold back, panting and grunting as you hobble a few steps towards the tub. You pause before getting in, feeling the baby’s head just inside you, your pussy bulging outwards and straining with the need to push.

The warm water soothes some of the pain, but you still scream with the next contraction, trying to pant your way through the ring of fire. Your change of position had pushed the baby back inside you, and with a few more pushes you had made up your lost progress.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you feel the head come to a full crown. Sobbing, nearly ready to give up, you bear down again and suddenly gasp as the head pops out of you. You catch your breath and reach down, hoping that with the next contraction you can the whole baby out and be done.

You grit your teeth and practically howl as you push the baby’s shoulders out, feeling the tiny body slide out of you as you cry with relief. You stay in the tub until the water cools, wondering at the tiny daughter you now hold in your arms.

A few months later during a nasty winter storm, you answer the door to find another snowy hiker seeking shelter. With your daughter asleep in her bassinet you encourage him inside and show him to the bed…

[Graves is] probably a lot more tired from the burden of responsibility that he lives within and under than the film was allowed the opportunity to explore…he is somebody who has physically and emotionally taxed himself for the good of wizardkind.
—  Colin Farrell (x) aka Graves is a confirmed workaholic y’all 

listen up: suicide aftermath is people who overdosed and they’re getting their stomachs pumped, it’s people who cut their wrists and got saved, it’s people who tried to hang themselves and someone cut them down

they were all dying and so was dean. and a matter of bringing a loved one back won’t change the fact that this is a much bigger issue . but that’s not the point, the point here is the aftermath. because the aftermath for all of these is not only emotional fallout, it’s also physical. yes you have to emotionally deal with trying to die, but the actual physicality of it? getting your stomach pumped is not an abstract idea it’s something that will happen to you. so is getting your wrists stiched up or your heart restarted.

suicide patients in hospitals cry when they wake up most of the time because the emotions overwhelm them. is it because of the attempt or because it didn’t work? doesn’t matter. what matters is the physical aspect of it. the way they feel after the attempt and the trauma

suicide is both emotionally and actually physically taxing and making the attempt look like its no big deal? its a disservice to the characters and also to people who watch the show and deal with those issues

dean winchester deserves better. and so do we

True Love You

Happy birthday, @whelvenwings​!! You’ve outed yourself as a Disney fan with this lovely thing, so I come to you like a fairy, bearing the gift of rewrites. I hope you enjoy <3

“And from this slumber you shall wake / when true love’s kiss the spell shall break. / For true love conquers all.” – Walt Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, 1959

5.5k

Read on AO3


They were breathing hard, dirt and gore caked to their jeans and streaked through their hair. A shotgun loaded with silver bullets dangled precariously from Dean’s right hand, still twitching a little from the adrenaline.

“Geez, that took forever. Hey – is it just me, or are we getting kind of old for this?” he groused, rolling his jammed shoulder.

Sam huffed in agreement and almost tripped over an exposed root. Hiking through the woods by moonlight back to the car post-ass kicking: not on his list of favorite things to do.

“We’re definitely getting old,” he replied.

The Impala was parked at the edge of a small clearing, half obscured by evergreens and right where they’d left her. Her rims glinted in the full moon light, like a smile that greeted Welcome Home.

Dean smiled back at her.  “Do you have an extra flannel in your bag?” Sam asked.

Dean frowned. “Use your own,” he whined.

“Mine’s got claw marks in it!”

Dean groaned and rounded back to the trunk. He tossed the shotgun into the arsenal and pulled out his duffel bag, wadded up in the back. It hit Sam square in the chest and Dean rolled his eyes. “There you go, Princess. Want me to turn around while you change?”

Sam scoffed and didn’t deign to answer. Dean turned around anyway, strolling around the clearing. He was about to be cooped up in the driver’s seat for another five, six hours on the way back to the bunker – he might as well stretch his legs while he could. His knees were giving him enough trouble as it was.

A downtrodden path of overgrown weeds through the trees gave him pause.

“Hey, Sam. Check this out,” Dean called.

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anonymous asked:

I've been seeing people say H&L is wayyyyyy more complex than seimei for a while now and I don't really understand what that means? So I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a comparison post? You make such lovely gifs, and your explanations are always so funny and easy to understand, so it would be nice to see the comparison!

Thank you for the kind words, and please strap in for another one of my never-ending rants. At least this time I know it’s gonna be long because this topic is of special interest to me, so I will have the foresight to make use of a read-more link :D

Okay here we go. For a start, I wouldn’t say Hope and Legacy is way more complex than Seimei, for no other reason than the fact that Seimei was already pretty much pushing all imaginable boundaries of complexity. What I can tell you about these 2 programs though, is this:

H&L is more technically and physically demanding. From base value alone, H&L is worth 103.43 compared to Seimei’s 95.79, with the main difference coming from Yuzu swapping in a quad loop for a triple loop. Base value doesn’t tell you the whole story though, because what makes H&L truly demanding is not just in how many difficult elements are included, it’s also in how those elements are distributed. See below the layout with time stamp for both programs (Tumblr doesn’t like anything but tiny text so I have a bigger clearer version of this image here):

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my biggest pet peeve about fanfiction sex

is jesus christ these are real developed characters with personalities and goals and traumas and flaws

they are NOT having sex like goddamn porn stars

if i’m reading fanfiction sex it’s because i want a more REALISTIC sex scene than “ooh they touched and it was instant fireworks” “the most powerful orgasm of his life” “instantly spiraling into uncontrollable moans of ecstasy”

like get real NOBODY loses their virginity like that

NO teenager knows how to have sex that good right off it just doesn’t HAPPEN

  • give me clumsy fanfiction sex!!! 
  • give me scenes where an overenthusiastic yami sticks his tongue too far down seto’s throat and he’s like “woah ok don’t do that”
  • give me scenes where characters actually say “here, touch me like this, you’re being too ___”
  • give me scenes where characters don’t think to say “here, touch me like this” until halfway through and then OH that’s how you’re doing it okay we’ll try that
  • honestly i want scenes where the sex is just “ok” 
  • the sex is “ok” and their cheeks are crusted with slobber from not fucking knowing how to KISS but there’s gentleness
  • or awkward sex! seto wanting to stop in the middle because it’s just WEIRD okay let’s take a breather
  • there’s room for plot development here lmao there’s room for improvement as people LEARN about each other’s bodies
  • don’t underestimate the handjob!!! we aren’t having hardcore anal fucking the first time we get naked!! let it build!! 
  • sex is physically taxing!! there is sweat and smell!! give me a charlie horse! give me exhausted middle of the night sex that’s ascended cuddling!! sometimes giving head is exhausting and you get a neck cramp and want to switch to another activity!! idk!
  • sometimes people just don’t cum together!!! sometimes people don’t cum at all! sometimes people cum within two seconds!! and laugh about it!! 
  • these are fuckin card game playing loser nerds ok i don’t want any more stories where they’re immediate sex gods jfc

this has been a PSA i’m putting this in the tags

The Countdown

Taehyung googles his symptoms and convinces himself he’s got a week to live, Yoongi’s coerced into helping write his will, and you’re just trying not to go insane.

a belated birthday present for the wonderful amazingly perfect @taesthetes !!! it’s three days late, unfortunately. See end for full list of disclaimers and notes.

6.7k words, fluff + comedy, taehyung/reader, normalverse


It begins with a cough.

A singular cough, insubstantial to the larger picture. Taehyung ignores it. That is, until suddenly his chest and throat seize and he feels this strange pressure and irresistible scratchy feeling that results in a whole slew of coughing and hacking.

With a grunt he slumps into his chair and immediately fumbles for his phone. The coughing’s stopped now, but the feeling of impending doom has yet to go away. As do the slightly woozy, borderline-feverish feeling and the sniffling of his nose.

Quickly, before he can possibly drop dead, he dials the number of the one person he can trust in times like these:

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YO IF U WANT AN ANIMATION COMPANY THAT

-HAS UNIQUE CHARACTERS EACH WITH EXTREMELY DIFFERENT UNIQUE FACES?
LAIKA
-SUPPORTS LGBT AND HAS LGBT REP IN MOVIES AND TRAILERS?
LAIKA
-PUTS YEARS OF LOVE AND EFFORT INTO THEIR FILMS?
LAIKA
-HAS HEROES WITH NO LOVE INTEREST?
LAIKA
-HAS CHILD HEROES?
LAIKA
-HAS INCREDIBLE STORIES WITH GREAT MORALS?
LAIKA
-LITERALLY PUTS MORE EFFORT INTO THEIR FILMS THAN ANY OTHER COMPANY BECAUSE THEIR WORK IS PHYSICALLY TAXING?
LAIKA
-POC PROTAGONISTS?
LAIKA
-STRONG AND INDEPENDENT FEMALES?
LAIKA
-U WANNA CRY?
LAIKA
-U WANNA LAUGH?
LAIKA
-U WANNA BE SCARED?
LAIKA
-U WANNA SEE THE BEST ANIMATED FILMS EVER?
LAIKA

anonymous asked:

This is what Harry's co-star Fionn said about the water scenes "Then I went to the beaches and I was swimming in full war gear, which once it got waterlogged was about 60, 80 pounds"

Like I give Harry so much credit for choosing to do a film that’s so emotionally and physically taxing he really went for it

I’m happy that Ben will go back to living a normal life, eating gluten and dairy again, just chillin’, not having to preserve himself for 22 hours so that he can spend 2 hours in a physically and emotionally taxing role. He deserves a nice, long break from this. But I’m sad that he’s leaving. Because this show has been a part of him, and he a part of it, for years and they’ve shaped each other a lot and I’m sure this show means the world to him and after that he won’t have any more pre-show dance parties with the rest of the cast, no more stagedooring (which in many ways is a good thing, I don’t want crazed fans screaming down his throat), he’ll have to leave his DEH family that he’s built relationships with and spent time with for almost four years. After I was in Little Shop of Horrors the post-show depression hit me hard. I can’t imagine what that must be like with a show you’ve been with for this long.

Is it too soon to revive Pippin? Because I’d cast him as Pippin and Cynthia Erivo as the Leading Player.

nerdyholler  asked:

For the intimacy prompts: ♖: Having their hair washed by the other, Shakarian or Kandros x Ryder, your choice.

[[Because my own mind is trash, my immediate thought was a post ME3 fic, so I could have that much more pain in there.]]

“Garrus, I can wash my own hair.” Shepard pushed herself up from the wheelchair where she was still spending at least several hours a day, legs wobbling beneath her. No. She could do this. She could stand and walk the few steps it would take to get to the Normandy’s shower, just like she could somehow convince her bruised and broken body to let her remove her own clothing, just like she could convince a broken hand and several broken fingers to lather her hair and let it wash out the drain. The Normandy. Home. She was home, not in the hospital, and she wanted to feel human again.  

Her left leg buckled and Shepard started to go down, Garrus catching her elbow and propping her up, not saying anything, just being there, something to lean against. He was like a wall, but warmer, more comfortable. “Shepard.” A single word to break the silence of her shaking steps, but that was all he needed.  

Garrus undressed her slowly, movements careful and not sensual. “I’m not going to break,” Shepard said irritably, though she had to secretly confess to herself that it was a relief that his hands didn’t brush her numerous cuts and wounds with too much force. It helped that she was not yet at the point where she could wear most normal clothes, relying on a tunic someone had helpfully sewn the N7 insignia onto, as if this could make her feel better.  

He undressed himself next, more out of practicality than for anything else; there was no need for Garrus to get his clothing completely soaked in the process. Shaking off all his offers of help, Shepard walked herself to her private bathroom, leaning against the wall when she had finally got there, flicking on the water as hot as it would go and hissing as it stung every inch of her body even as it relaxed her muscles. One day she wouldn’t be in pain, but the road to recovery was still almost endless; she couldn’t see where it might take her. Chakwas had wanted to put a seat and a bar in the shower, but Shepard had stopped the doctor there. There were already so many reminders of what that last battle had done to her battered body. She didn’t need one more, even if it meant that every shower was a physically taxing experience. 

Garrus came in behind her silently, letting the water hit him and sighing slightly. “Too hot for you?” she teased, trying to disguise how much she was relying on the tiled wall to hold herself up.  

“Hardly, Shepard. Here.” He took the shampoo, reaching around her easily. It was a bottle Shepard hadn’t seen before- someone had been into her space, tried to make things comfortable, and she strongly suspected the culprit was standing right behind her. A scent reminiscent of the sea filled the small space- something salty, underlaid with something sweeter. It reminded her, with an unexpected pang, of Thane and Mordin, the people she’d lost so recently.  

“Can I?” The shampoo pooled awkwardly in Garrus’ hand, and Shepard nodded, stepping slightly out of the spray so he could gently lather her hair, his claws providing an unexpected scalp massage as he worked it through, not getting ideal coverage but at least trying his best. She found herself relaxing even more, leaning slightly against Garrus.  

Even though she was still standing, Shepard was still so tired. They told her that was part of recovery- resting and sleeping were the best thing she could do for her body, but also the hardest thing for her to do. Something about sitting still felt so unnatural, but you could only come back from the dead so many times before you realized listening to your ship’s doctor might be the best course of action. “You’re pretty bad at this, Garrus,” she said, water punctuating her words.  

He grunted in affirmation, helping her rinse out her hair, supporting her as the water rolled down her face, cleansing as anything could have ever been. Her bandages would have to be changed after this, an act of intimacy with which they were both already far too familiar.  

“Shepard, you want to go on that vacation after this? You, me, the beach, those drinks with little umbrellas in them.”  

“I don’t think my body is swimsuit ready, Garrus.” It might never be. She was lucky she could even walk, but gratitude was hard to find.  

“Looks pretty good to me, Shepard.” He teased the back of her neck with a kiss to punctuate her point and she swatted at him, too tired to do much else but lean into him again. If she never had to get out of the shower again, that would be great.  

Rinse, lather, repeat. If Garrus had learned one thing from watching too many vids, it was that. The shampoo was cool on the top of her head, a fresh wash of the sea filling their small space again. “To hell with it. We both deserve a vacation. You find a planet and I’m there.” His hands were playing with her hair still, trying to braid it but not doing much other than tangle it hopelessly. It was good he couldn’t see the smile she was hiding incredibly poorly.  

“I already have a place in mind. Miles of white sand and not a single Reaper in sight.” Now Shepard turned to look at Garrus, putting her arms around him gratefully.  

“What would I do without you, Garrus?” He had been with her since she first woke up, was with her still for every part of recovery. People in her life came and went, but Garrus stayed, her only constant.  

“Have really dirty hair, Shepard.” 

anonymous asked:

:o can u explain vriska's hyperempathy & dirk's lack thereof?? i havent heard of that before & i thought they were similar in that respect ?

FUCK i forgot to answer this last night! oh well, hope youre still around anon.

under the cut sorry @ mobile users :(

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