LOOK AT ME!

indie multimuse. #livedtough. est. 11.16.19.

[livedtough]

independent, non-exclusive multimuse featuring muses and ocs from sci-fi, fantasy, folklore, and more, written and adored by jamie (25+, est, they/them). muses are 18+ except for icheb, matteusz, and edwin in their canon verses. discord is available on request.

rules / muse page (mobile) / meme tag

[fluffylord]

Twelfth Doctor DOCTOR WHO | EXTREMIS

[mantcdea]

It is a relief, when Taylor accepts her touch as easily as Mantis gives it. It can be isolating, when people keep her at arm's length. When the citizens of any planet thank the Guardians for their service with a handshake, while pointedly avoiding Mantis. Still, she cannot bring herself to judge them. She understands.

She is glad that Taylor won't do the same, though. Mantis cannot turn off her powers, but she can try to keep them from fully acting. There is a soft nod from her when Taylor says one can never have too many pens. "That's true, though I could also try to take less notes. But it is hard. There's so much to appreciate and notice and acknowledge!" Mantis says with a bright smile. "Iggy seems to agree."

When Taylor says she doesn't know much about telepathy, however, Mantis glances at her friend. "This might surprise you, but neither do I. My telepathic abilities are... limited, especially when compared to my empathic ones." She wonders if she is making any sense, and decides it will be easier to explain if Taylor shares her own perspective with her. "Do you ever have trouble separating your thoughts from your feelings?"

[livedtough]

Maybe some part of her understands why people would avoid the woman's touch. She can't say that she doesn't know why people would want to avoid the touch of someone who can read them like a book with no more than a touch, but Taylor doesn't feel like she's the kind that wants to avoid it. In some way, it's a relief. There are parts of her she's always kept hidden, but having someone she trusts know them without having to speak sounds so easy. Surely, somewhere within them, that's really all anyone wants?

If she surrounds herself with enough love, with enough open feeling, then can't, at some point, she start to feel less trapped?

Well, maybe that's too much for right now. She feels, anyway, that she would much rather talk about pens. "I don't think you should limit yourself," she says. "After all, Iggy does notice everything, and he's very happy."

The lightness of her expression fades some as Mantis continues, though it's only replaced with the seriousness she feels the topic deserves. She nods, a slow thing. She knows she can't quite understand, but she is listening. "Sometimes. Like, when something's bothering me, but instead of being rational, I start to think things that I don't normally do?" There is, of course, a fundamental loss of understanding between them, but she is trying.

[quantumstarpaths]

i think ive talked about this before but the scene where paul says your secret is safe with me/im sorry [youve never been in love] is so? important to me. obviously the dacing and the culmets is great but these two things he says are really. i know he's high and weird but i feel like theyre a sort of fundamental paul to me.

her secret is safe with him. it is, and i said once before that it was because he didn't care enough to tell anyone, which is true, but it's also because i think he understands, somewhere within his snark and prickliness that trust is vital. he is, at the end of the day, a trustworthy person because he is so prickly, because it's so hard for him to open up. when he tells someone a secret, it's with the requirement that they can be trusted with it. breaking his trust is unforgivable. so he will never break someone's trust.

and for im sorry...my thoughts on this one havent changed a ton but like paul is not a person who is good at relationships or emotions. but he understands, even if hes not very good at showing it at first, that hugh is good. that this thing he has with this man is good. that the love he has for him is good, and that even though doesnt always know what to do with it, but he realizes that it is good. and maybe normally he wouldn't say he's sorry, because normally he doesn't believe that it's all that special. but right now when he's high. he's sorry.

[eloiscbridgerton]

Can you manage without your stick? You are my stick. DOWNTON ABBEY 2.08

[d1rthaus]

Twelve’s office at St Luke’s University

[deliriumang3l]

Anger, rage, indignation: it holds a smell, like freshly fired gun powder, blacked by the blast. It also has a coppery hint akin to blood: blood that may or may not run into the walls of the Mall. Becky has never felt it so potent; sticks to her like a film, a second epidermis. Her teeth fill with static. Her bones with hot coals.

The Doctor can smell it too, feel it too. It takes over into his veins, pushes into his hearts. The static rolls across his palm as he presses his hand to the wall – warm like the insides of a fresh body. Wet with sweat pushed from concrete like tears... It’s okay, The Doctor urges, and Becky holds her breath, frozen a moment too long. She’s never seen Her this angry, engorged with wrath. How many have claimed they could take her away, and then perished, if not by the Mall’s games, then her own... She wonders if perhaps this rage is really fear. Perhaps The Doctor, with his extra organs and his strange blue box, does have the ability to rip her away from this place... What does fear smell like? She knows this: sour. Old milk left to the dog day sun: a stink both subtle and strong enough to water one’s eyes – yes, it’s there, that scent, past the static, past the copper. Whitefield Heights is afraid.

Listen to me. Becky listens. Whitefield Heights groans around them. I am the Doctor, and I command that you listen. Silence. It's going to be okay. You're frightened, and you're hurt, but she isn't yours. You can't keep her if she doesn't want to stay.

More silence. At first, Rebecca thinks it’s considering, but the coppery perfume surrounding them only thickens, sour milk forced into her nostrils and she can’t help it: she gags, bringing her hand to her mouth. The quiet begins oppressing, encasing them, and she approaches The Doctor on instinct, responding to the protectiveness. A drop drips into a puddle somewhere. Plink! Its sound carries like a gunshot in the emptiness... and then, suddenly, beneath both he and the wraith, the floor collapses into a large, bright green and plastic slide. They fall. Slide down with a shriek ripped from her lungs. A bright light first blinds her, then she drops into a pit of colorful bouncing balls. She drowns in them, pushes them away, whining as she does so, until finally her head pokes past the surface of the pool and the sea of playing balls. Red, blue, green and yellow move around her – above, the lights are the bright rectangles of office floors, buzzing like swarms of bees above.

“D-Doctor? Doctor!”, she calls.

@livedtough

[livedtough]

The poor creature. Oh, the terrible, poor creature. He knows as clearly as Becky does that it, she, is afraid. She is so horribly afraid, and the Doctor does not know what to do. There are so many things he can fix, problems that he can solve, but he does not know how to fix this. He tries, oh, how he tries! There is so much fear, always so much fear, and it is the Doctor's job to make it better, and he tries, but sometimes the only thing to be done for fear is accepting that there are things that cannot be changed, cannot be stopped, and he cannot make anyone accept what they refuse to.

And now, as always, when someone refuses to accept, they respond with fury. There is always so much fury. Will they ever stop? Will they ever just listen?

It seems that the answer remains a resounding no. He tries to convince her, tries to make the creature that pretends to be a mall see that everything will be okay, that she will survive without keeping Becky here as a prisoner, but she does not listen. He's not even sure he can blame her. He understands her fear. No matter how much he wishes that she would listen, he does understand the fear of loss.

That doesn't mean that he will stop, though. He will never stop. He will always try to help, will always try to make someone understand that loss is a part of living, even if it never works.

In the silence, he hopes it will. He hopes terribly that the silence will end with acceptance, with the Mall allowing them to go, allowing him to take Becky with him, but of course it doesn't. Instead, he can feel the fear increase. He does not need a Gallifreyan's telepathy to feel it, to know that this is going to get worse. It is still, and it is foul, and it is going to get worse. Only, he doesn't know how. He hates this part, too. The part of knowing that something will go wrong, but not yet knowing how.

And then, at once, he knows. There is a sound, a single dripping of something, and then the floor falls from beneath his feet. He is falling, and he expects to fall far longer than he does, but instead there is a surface. A...slide? Yes. It's a slide. It is surprising, but it does make sense, in a way. That is what he thinks as he falls, in a moment of clarity that does not make a terrible amount of sense.

Of course there's a slide.

And then there's another fall, this time into a pool of--something. No, not something. More plastic. It's a ball pit. The great green slide has deposited them into an underground ball pit. He would laugh if there was anything worth laughing about. If he hadn't found himself lost in a sea of plastic balls. A moment is taken to orient, and then he pushes up, and at once he surfaces. And he hears his name.

He turns, difficult in the sea of plastic, but there she is. She's here. "Over here." He wades to her, a feat far more difficult than he would think. "Are you alright?"

[angrysuggestion]

I always care, I always care. This is my problem.

[fluffylord]

TWELFTH DOCTOR S10 E07 | THE PYRAMID AT THE END OF THE WORLD

[livedtough]

✶  ︵  *dash  game:  knowing  your  writing  partner  can  potentially  make  writing  together  a  lot  easier!

the basics

name: jamie

pronouns: they/them

sexuality: ace

three facts

i'm a twin :]!

i have two cats. ronald and ivy!

ummm...i really like taking pictures and i have a small collection of cameras. most of which are no longer functional (or could be if i only gave them batteries). or made of legos.

roleplay experience

how long: maybe 15 years or so? i don't know exactly. but honestly my sister and i played pretend about as early as we had the capacity to do so

platforms you've used: neopets, tapatalk, a few various forums for three seconds, tumblr, and rarely discord. text once.

best experience: all of it...the friends i've met and the worlds i've created. though i always go back to the time i stayed up until 4 am with a couple of people back on my original loki blog.

muse preferences

female or male: i always sort of drift towards male muses, if my muse list didn't tell you that. im #problematic that way.

fluff, angst, smut: yes? fluff's great, i do enjoy writing smutt, though it can get kind of boring and repititive after a while. and angst. i do enjoy it, but i prefer if it's sort of? i don't know. equal. equal parts give and take. i've sort of been made to be the recipient of constant angst and negativity before and it sucks and honestly has sort of turned me off of the genre. but you know. i'm good for some.

plots or memes: i am not a very good plotter. i sort of have trouble coming up with something from nothing. which is bad in roleplay. so i definitely prefer memes, because otherwise i feel like im putting a lot of the weight to plot on my partner, and that's not fair

long or short replies: either? kind of really long can stress me out, but i'm a rambler, so even my shortest replies end up being long.

best time to write: kind of whenever. i've always done my most writing in the evening, but whenever it strikes.

are you like your muse(s): i think i'm like all of them a little bit. some more than others. some i hope i'm nothing like.

TAGGED BY @therapardalis

TAGGING you!!!

[mantcdea]

There is nothing wrong with wanting something. It is as natural as breathing, as walking, as being. It is the kind of feeling that everyone has experienced at least once. No one is immune. Mantis gives because she knows how it feels to want. Because it is easier to give than to want. Because she'd learned how to stop wanting a long time ago.

Her triumph has nothing to do with being followed, and everything to do with her ability to find these bookstalls from memory. But Loki sees competition even when there is none. He wears armor even when nobody is fighting him.

When he inspects the books with unexpected gentleness, however, Mantis stills. Loki studies them, all pretenses dropped, all illusions gone, and it is as though he is allowing himself to simply enjoy things. The empath beams as she nods. Indeed they appear to be old, dust and leather and ink gone sweet with age.

"I wonder the same," she admits. "Aren't they lovely?" There are atlases charting extinct galaxies. Plays written for actors with six voices. Histories of empires that lasted only a week.

Her own eyes dart around, searching, perusing each tome with a faint furrow to her brow. Taylor probably cannot read alien languages, so Mantis ends up picking a thick book of illustrations for her friend. It shows ethereal plants and bioluminescent snails, flora and fauna from a distant planet. She pays for it, and she waits for Loki.

[livedtough]

Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting, but the way that Loki wanted had always felt so big, so terribly, overwhelmingly big. It is a heavy, guiding thing, and he has always given in to it. He has allowed it to guide him, and he has always tried to fill in the hole that it left within him. He has not yet been able to fill it, and he does not know if he will be able to, but even now he is not yet ready to stop trying. Only perhaps he has come to understand that it will not be filled.

He thinks little of her observation of him, and this is, of course, the only time when she is truly watching him. He does not think of his gentleness with the books as something that exposes any softness, though. He is simply a man who grew up paging through the tomes of Asgard's libraries, and so the care with which one handles such things has become almost reflexive. If there is anything that Loki believes deserves care, it is the pages of these delicate books. He does not mind it being known.

"Indeed," he says, somewhat distracted. They are lovely. They are works of art. The care put into making them is clear, especially as they have lasted so long. It is important that there be care put into the creation of something mean to last. Loki has always imagined that what he created, the kingdom that he ruled, would be created by, if not care, then intensity. It is what separates him from Thor. The man does not know, or had not, at the time, the requirement of intensity. Loki wants in a way that burns. Thor had never wanted for anything.

The thoughts are unpleasant, though he does what he can to dismiss them as he looks. He looks at the books, and there are a couple that catch his eye, old books of spells. They are beautiful, and he is careful as he lifts them from the table and pays for them. Perhaps this festival is not so bad after all. When he is finished, he joins her, and if he is a touch less brooding, he will not be the one to mention it.

[ameeliapond]

DOCTOR WHO MEME: [2/2] quotes The boy who died on the river, that boy's value is your value. That's what defines an age. That's what defines a species.

[stillgotscars]

marjorie - taylor swift

[sugurugetos]

The BRIDGERTON Brothers BRIDGERTON: 3.05 (2024)

[cinemapix]

In a way, it's rather sweet.

[onebluedalek]

The room idled again at the question. Everyone here was starting to sort through their papers and a few were walking over to Blueton. It seemed someone had called this meeting as finalized. Everyone needed a minute or two to cool off.

"The nanotechnology will be distributed between the Tharons and the Dals soon." Whispered one of the Tharons into Blue's neck vents.

"Are we sure this type of sway through the peoples will work?"

"No, but this is just the first attempt. If all goes well on this first run then they will never be activated." Blueton insisted. Their minds would only ever be influenced- and hopefully never need to be fully controlled.

"And if he starts poking around?" They gestured to the Doctor.

"Then we did something wrong and will have to start from point A." Blueton made the point of the Doctor being here clear. Checks and balances.

[livedtough]

This was good. They were thinking, trying to puzzle through the question he'd asked, and he hoped they could figure something out. They had their first step, and that was wonderful, but this sort of thing needed a plan.

But, no, they weren't planning any more, were they? They were finishing. They weren't going to figure this out anymore with him. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? Maybe they would find something with the advice he'd given them, or maybe they wouldn't. They were always going to do what they wanted, but he just wanted to help. He wanted to find a way to do it without blood spilled.

He supposed now that all there was to do was watch. And he would. He would make sure to keep an eye on this revolution. He did want this to work for them. How could he not? Everything he did was for the rights of others. For freedom and what was right. How could he do anything but want to help?

But he heard nothing of nanotechnology. He heard nothing of their plans. He did watch, however. He watched as the whispers were exchanged, and he knew that something was being kept from him. That, too, was going to be watched. There were things here that were not being shared with him, and he would not let it go, not entirely. He would not let this go unobserved.

"Is our meeting adjourned?"

[itberice]

Paul Stamets & Hugh Culber I Star Trek: Discovery