#but we are all equal in death ig

[very-uncorrect]

I'm gonna die one day oh my god holy shit fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck there's no afterlife oh holy shit fuck help oh my god no no no no no

[widevibratobitch]

my god. skinny people really just have like. No Idea huh just absolutely not a single clue lmao it's almost funny to watch fr but then id lie if i said i wouldn't fucking kill to be able to be that ignorant

[nikonladyz4]

Members Supporting Jimin and his phenomenal success of MUSE

I will equivocally state that I am a jikooker with Jimin as my bias, but I support ALL members with my money (buying albums, digital downloads, merch, fan club, concerts) and time (streaming, blogs, IG, TikTok).

But, i don’t understand for the life of me the antics of one member. This is Jimin’s promotional weekend and there has not been one ounce of support for Jimin and his album release from Taehyung. Yet most of the other members (Suga does not promote while enlisted) have congratulated JM and shown their support. I expect to see a tiktok post from JK soon, as he did for Hobi and RM.

But why has Tae not supported this album release of Muse just like he never supported FACE? What he does instead is release a promo for his photo book during Jimin’s promo period. Actually, i was ok with it, because it was not music, but a personal photo project I saw as a gift to Army on Army day.

But today, in the middle of tracking and charting for Jimin, along with the trailer for JM/JK travel show releasing later today, he decides to post a photo of him and JK in Hawaii stating: JK will come quickly because he asked him to and missed him. What was the point of this post? Why is he feeding the taekookers who have been dragging Jimin relentlessly since the announcement of the travel show and the drop of his album. A large group of people who are actively working against Jimin by supporting other acts just to try and hold back Jimin. Mind you, JK is not getting the hate.

I am not saying a member has to publish on social media to show support, but he did for other members and never for Jimin. That whole show where they hugged each other on Jin’s discharge was very touching, but now feels so disingenuous.

Help me understand what is going on and why this seems to continually happen. Last year, JK would come back and provide context to everything that Tae said that put taekookers on a roll. Like Jimin, he has pretty much been absent from social medial and can’t do lives.

Do I believe, they are all friends? Yes! But are they all as close to each equally, obviously not and that is understandable. Tae is closer to his wooga squad than he is most of the members of BTS. But even taking the whole shipping aspect away from jikook, i would still feel Tae’s actions should be questioned, simply because what he does over and over again is to rile up the toxic members of his fanbase and taekookers to hate on Jimin. We saw how bad it got last year with the death threats and reports to the Ministry of Defense from JK solos and taekookers. It is bad now with Jimin’s album release and travel show with JK.

What does it take to be supportive like the other members or just simply be quiet this weekend?

This is not a hate post towards Tae, but a post calling out a behavior that has negative connotations towards Jimin, his supposed soulmate.

Bottom Line - STREAM, STREAM, STREAM FOR JIMIN LIKE THERE IS NO TOMORROW!!

[crystalandbow]

PICK A PILE🤍

CALL OUT EDITION

Pile 1 is beach, pile 2 is garden, pile 3 is swans. Take the reading with a grain of salt and only take what resonates 🤍

If you liked the reading, lmk! & Follow for more

Hello pile 1👋🏻

Or should I say hello my mama bears

lol anyways let's begin!!!

The cards that you got: 2 of swords, ace of coins, the emperor and the ace of cups.

Okie so The 2 of swords really sums it up for y'all, the others cards just confirm it more. like you guys are torn between 2 options/paths/things/ whatever. Making a decision is important because It seems like this has been on your mind for some time and is bugging you ? Taking up all your mental energy/stamina. *like a vampire/jk* most of y'all already know which path you want to choose but for some reason you haven't locked in your answers is what I am feeling. And now it's time to make a decision! It might be that you are afraid for some reason, you have this fear of what if things go wrong or something like that or it might be that you are unable to make a decision because both options seem equally tempting.

I think you can choose any path because they will have decent results. The advice or call-out message is that whatever you chose to do for your situation, stick with it. Its not about the options it's about you! The reason why I called you guys mama bear is because that is how you should deal with your current situation. Chose whichever path you want, fight or flight. But stick with it! Know that what you did was absolutely okay!! You have to embody the emperor's energy (of being bold and authoritative, because it is your life, do not fall for anything that doesn't feel right )

The ace of cups tells me that you guys should make a decision using your heart ( feelings & intuition) because afterall you know what's best for you! follow your intuition/gut feeling, don't be afraid of anything YOU ARE THE EMPEROR & YOU'VE GOT IT !

Keywords: stability, bravery & action. Facing fears/oppositions, gut feeling

Ig thats it, lmk how I did and only take what resonates 🤍 have a good day/evening/night

Hello pile 2 👋🏻

Cards you got: 3 of cups, death, 2 of cups & 9 of cups

I'm getting the word "love potion" for guys, I mean we do have alot of cups *the 2,3 and nine of cups* woah! That's alot of emotions. I'm also getting the word "self acceptance" all the cards are so positive but it doesn't feel that good? Something feels heavy? And a Lil stressful yk? I think the message for you guys is opening up yourself.

Y'all might have the habit of guarding yourself, but many times sometimes you just end up over doing it, leaving you feeling sad? Y'all feel that you are different from others in a sad way and that you have to put up this "fake" self to fit in. You try to be like others / everybody around you in public and this needs to change, atleast your mindset that people won't accept you for who you are. Change is needed! Stop blaming it on other exteranl reasons. Do you even know who you actually are? Do you accept yourself? Do you love/care about yourself? Do you prioritise your needs first? Its not always others, sometimes it's our fault that we let people treat us like that! The two of cups imagery is giving me mirror energy, it looks like there's a mirror between the two peeps and they are actually the same person but also different at the same time like it's just their "other side" yk? How you view yourself, and how you let yourself be you truly. Love your inner child. Death talks about how you need to embrace all your different sides and be yourself, be unique & don't try very hard just to "fit in"

The nine of cups is here for advice and it talks about prioritising your needs first & putting yourself on the pedestal! Whether it be in romantic relationships or platonic or any relationship

Call-out message: DONT BE AFRAID TO BE YOURSELF let yourself be! Accept love, prioritise your emotional needs first!!!

Ig thats it, lmk how I did and only take what resonates 🤍 have a good day/evening/night

Hello pile 3 👋🏻

Cards you got: the strength, justice, devil & the star.

Surprisingly all major arcanas😭I really wanna know what's going on with y'all. Like what MAJOR shit is going on lmao

Anyways here's my interpretation for you guys: you guys are working hard towards some goals of yours. I'm getting the vibes that the world told you what you think or thought once upon time is unrealistic and unachieveable but to you it feels like "inner- calling". you have started working towards it and might have achieved/ overcome certain milestones and mini achievements that you should be proud about and if not then you should know that they hard work that you have put in WILL workout and you will gain the fruits for you dedication. One thing you should possibly avoid is arrogance and / or greed attachments will be different for everybody, basically avoid the temptations of the devil. Don't believe you're at the top of the world and for some it's not getting overly obsessed with results,etc. Everything will workout at the right time. The justice card over here is likely talking about getting your results. Call-out message for y'all could be to choose the path of hard work & patience instead of shortcuts and unfair means. The star card is asking you to stay optimistic regarding your work to know that it will all be worth it, you will get your answers and result just keep working hard and have pure intentions

So yeah basically, just on the right track, keeping working hard, don't fall for temptations like shortcuts, procrastination, unfair means,etc be patient and you will be good to go

Ig thats it, lmk how I did and only take what resonates 🤍 have a good day/evening/night

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 30

chapter 49:

1. jegulus jumpscare (it’s a dream i wasn’t expecting)

2. shit. the dream is about their wedding plans. i- i can’t do this shit while reg is in the arena

3. shit it’s raining and i know reg can’t handle it because of the last crimson river/arena

4. god, sirius wakes up to the rain and his first thought it to go save regulus

5. “"Lily, have you been using sex for favors?"

"No." Lily pauses, then snorts. "Well, alright, so this is how it works, yeah? I'm already having sex, and then I'm like, say, look at you all laid out and desperate to give me what I want; don't you want to do this very small, very simple thing for me? And then they mostly always say yes, and they get what they want, all while I'm having a grand time and also getting what I want. See? Win-win.””

😭😭😭 i love her your honor

6. “”I cannot believe that this revolution is partially running on your competency in sex."

"Oh, if only it could fully run on that. Everything would go so smoothly. Shit, we'd win the war in, like, a week.""

😭😭😭💍���️ marry me please

7. “”I keep telling [Effie] I know exactly how to make her feel better, but she insists she's a married woman, and also far too old for me. Disappointing, really.”” 😭😭😭

8. james confronting lucius has me scared for remus. like, i know they can’t trace it back to remus, but i’m so scared

9. james is pissed at the world and it’s honestly scary

10. i know james is trying to use donations, but i’m also aware that riddle wants to make sure no donations make it to reg, sirius, or marlene

11. “"Aw, your boyfriend sent you a present," Rabastan teases, his tone lighthearted and good-natured.

"Fiancé," Regulus corrects sharply”

GAGGED. he took james’ words and fucking ran with it like nobody’s business

12. not narcissa welcoming james to the family 😭😭😭😭

13. james sent him a bagel and all the death eaters are making fun of him for being gay over it 😭😭

14. all james sent on the card was “???” 😭😭 pls that’s so funny

15. poor eli

16. the sad bonding over marlene and sirius having recovered from drinking problems

17. don’t tell me that the fucking crimson river hands are coming out the hedges. i- god i hope reg gets to personally witness riddle’s downfall

18. AND THE FUCKING GREEN MIST??? FUCK THIS

19. “You never truly do feel as alive as when death is breathing down your neck.”

oh he’s insane as hell. a black for sure

20. shit. sirius’ mind just went blank in the maze

21. the hallow is cruel beyond belief for this

22. “He has had dreams of Regulus, ah, using his dagger during…intimate moments, but is that something he'd actually do? Well… Okay, bad example.” 😭😭😭😭

23. james was so close to an epiphany about mcgonnagal making everyone hate the games. he was so close

24. “Thorfinn said he'd have to be killed to be stopped from going after Sirius, even though Regulus explicitly told him what he'd do about that, and so Regulus killed him. Newton's third law: for every action in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

bitch do not pull physics into this 😭😭

also that means that sir isaac newton existed in this universe, which if we see this as a future for our universe, it means that homophobia was prevalent at one point and the world straight up just eradicated it. 🤷🏽‍♀️ pro for this universe ig

25. “When he lifts his head, the first thing Regulus sees is his brother.

The second thing he sees is Sirius' fist, just the flash of it, just seconds before it collides with the side of his face.”

he had it coming fr

[broodwolf221]

cole—spirit or human? 

this, like all my meta, is just my personal feelings or interpretation: I am not trying to claim any kind of objective correctness, or to dismiss those who feel otherwise. I remember conversations about cole being somewhat strained so I'm hoping ppl aren't going to be super weird on this post. 

so—cole. I've played both routes and I actually enjoy both of them, but I'm strongly inclined towards making him more of a spirit, and my reasoning comes down to three primary aspects: 1) respecting cole’s autonomy and his choices up to this point, 2) acceptance of an “other” way of being as equally valid to a “human” way of being, and 3) making him more human feels weirdly to me like asking him to replace the real cole in full rather than be himself

1—respecting his autonomy.

cole states early on that he became more of who he was and less human, and that it lets him help. that's a choice he made. on a personal level, even though he's just pixels, I find it deeply uncomfortable to unmake the choice he made about his nature. I understand that he's shown as happy and fulfilled regardless of which path you choose, which is part of why I like both, but this is why I prefer the spirit path: making him more human feels, to me, like the inky is making him more… palatable. or like the game is giving a “comfortable to the player” option. I felt this way when I first played dai when it was new, and I continue to feel this way now

he is happy in both and that's nice, and i like that there's no strong delineation of a right v. wrong choice. at the same time, i've always gotten the sense that cole wants to be more spirit—maybe not because it brings him joy or satisfies him, it could well be that he just believes he will be more useful/functional as a spirit, but even making "bad" decisions (which i don't think this one is, but for the sake of argument) is an individual's right and part of their autonomy

2—acceptance of an “other” way of being as equally valid to a “human” one

in a watsonian, in-text view (which does tend to be my approach), I think it's very important to accept the personhood of spirits, even when they're so fundamentally different. spirit!cole forgets things, can erase negative experiences, etc.—there's a lack of what we'd see as typical growth and maturity going on there, but I'd argue that we can't really effectively apply human (or “mortal” ig, bc elves, dwarves, qunari…) norms to a spirit. 

cole as a spirit of compassion is the way a spirit is supposed to be. the way a spirit is supposed to be is not the way a mortal is supposed to be. and to me, it does feel like his preference throughout the game is to act as a spirit. he stays "pure" and "clean," and that allows him to help without becoming corrupted or changed. it's tempting—and not wrong—to view this through a human lens and to find it unhealthy for him, but i tend to defer to solas' explanations of how spirits are in this case. they can easily be corrupted because they are a Single Thing. that is their nature. wisdom is wisdom; changed by perception, expectation, memory, or pain, it becomes something fundamentally different. spirits are malleable in a way mortals are not

3—replacing the “real” cole 

tbf, this one isn't really supported by anything in game, just a personal discomfort. but he “became” cole after the young man's death. honestly, I find that a little uncomfortable, but I can understand it: the textual “simplicity”/purity of spirits makes sense of that kind of reaction to compassion’s “failure,” its inability to help the real cole (according to its own standards where help=fix: it did help the real cole by being there) 

so, to me, it reads a little like you're confirming that direction when you have cole become more human. ik it's not presented that way, but yeah, personally just makes me uncomfortable bc it feels like I'm encouraging cole to view himself as a replacement of the real cole 

spirits can come back, but they are the sentiment that gave rise to it in the first place, not the individual being itself. compassion taking on cole's name in the first place feels like that to me, but becoming more human feels like it's taking it a step too far. bc then cole becomes a young man who's taken on the face and name of a dead man and it's… it's a lot. for him to grapple with down the line, for the people around him, for everyone. but as a spirit, that kind of behavior feels more like a way of recognizing and respecting the being that came before 

and of course, cole isn't 100% either—he's more human or more spirit. so it's fair to say that it'd still be a sign of respect and acknowledgement of the real cole even if he becomes more human, it doesn't turn automatically into a Bad Thing, and the complexity can honestly be fascinating to explore, bc i imagine as more-human he will develop some complex feelings about all of it

[willardsrestwidow]

❝We hold it in our eyes, the answer to it all❞ - Molly O'Shea x Fem!Reader

Pairings: Molly O'Shea x Fem!Reader, Molly O'Shea x (if-you-squint-your-eyes)OC!Reader.

Synopsis: After years of living as a hermit in a secluded hut in the woods, you finally find freedom, only to stumble into a life of crime. Stealing was nothing new to you, but joining a gang of outlaws changes everything. For the first time, the allure of shimmering gold pales in comparison to the captivating gaze of a certain pair of Irish green eyes.

Word Count: 5,3k

Warnings: Dutch, toxic-relationship, couple arguing but no physical violence, Dutch again, and eventual smut - oral, fingering; wlw sex basically.

Please only read if you're +18!

A/N: girlies and pals, I'm down bad for this woman, and that's that ig. I never wrote for rdr buuuuuut ive been a reader for a long time now. And speaking of long things, it's 5k words yall.... the thirst was IMMENSE!!!

Eyes were the windows to one’s soul.

It was what you were taught still as a youngster living out in the woods with your Pa.

When hunting, you just had to look into the animal’s eyes to know what sort of prey they would be. The slight convulsing of the irises, he’d say, was an indication of weakness. A fixed gaze on something else or complete disregard for human presence meant you’d need more bullets and more air in your lungs to chase the creature through the difficult terrain. And, of course, there were the eerie stares that seemed to pierce your soul — slit pupils or fully dilated ones — creatures you would encounter only three times in your life. Pa would mention bears and alligators, foul beings not to be trifled with, and a secret third one he would take to his humble grave, never to be revealed.

Well, regardless, the hunt had grown in you over time until Pa’s death, coinciding with when your needs began to grow beyond nature’s boundaries. Like a fish drawn by the shimmery light in the ocean, you took the first step out of the small shack, not knowing it’d would be the last time you set foot there.

In civilization, you found the same types of stares in store clerks, rich folk, and equally petty thieves. For once, a bullet between their eyes was not the ideal route for most encounters, if what you faced could even be called that. You began small—a poacher with a weakness for beautiful women, using the night and darkness to act upon your urges. There was no need to grow in what became your dark habit, to seek fame or further luxuries. You were content with sleeping in a different place every night until a late-night robbery got the entire sheriff’s ‘cavalry’ tailing after your sorry-ass. In the end, you rode your stolen horse off a cliff, resulting in multiple mild injuries, including a sharp stick in your thigh that rendered you bedridden for an entire week.

Bedridden, that is, because fate granted you a chance by sending a group of broad-shouldered figures mounted on horses your way. Or perhaps it was the other way around. It was while being spoon-fed by a lovely girl with dark features that you learned to whom you owed your gratitude, and the name rang a bell, if not several.

“I ain’t cut for washing clothes by the riverbank like they do. I mean, I can, but…” you recalled saying one sunny morning, the sunlight shining upon Clemens Point, to the only person you’d seen listening to others: Arthur Morgan. His hooded, blue eyes seemed to be everywhere around camp as he listened to you, even on Mary-Something, who was mindlessly reading a novel on her break. You couldn’t tell for sure because the man wouldn’t stay in one place, forcing you to keep chasing after him. Your lungs cried for help as you continued, “I just… hah, I can be useful outside camp too!”

“What they been feedin’ you and Miss Adler, huh? Look, if Dutch ain’t lettin’ you out, maybe you should try winning his trust,” Morgan mumbled over his shoulder. “Now, if I were you, I’d start with that laundry basket.”

“Did you start with laundry too? Uh… Morgan?”

Thus, your first, real week was marked by incessant running after dirty laundry and helping Pearson with cooking — which, in hindsight, was as tiring and demanding as any other job. Oddly enough, you couldn’t catch sight of Dutch or even enter his luxurious tent, the same being kept with its flaps down at all times as a high-pitched opera always emanated from within.

Like a trapped hummingbird, your patience began to wear thin. Dangerous thoughts of returning to the woods plagued your mind for a full night, but a warm morning opened your eyes to a bigger catch.

“Can I smoke in silence, woman? In God’s name, be quiet!” was the first human sound to be heard from a tent far from where you were, early on, gathering the rags sprawled around a sleeping Uncle. The gravelly tone with a slight crack in some words made you perk your head up and forget your duties. You couldn’t understand the stance your body took, as if you were young again, with a gun bigger than your body, which could just as well have been the damned laundry basket, and back out in the silent woods. You allowed the memory to take over, and careful steps to take you just about as close as a hunter could get to a creature.

An irked Dutch, deep creases carving his forehead and squinted eyes barely visible, tried to light the fat cigar hanging from his lips in front of his tent. A few feet away, Hosea sharpened his knife, and a determined Grimshaw marched across camp, though neither seemed to be part, or concerned about what soon followed.

From behind one of his shoulders, a flash of red, curly hair appeared and then disappeared. You figured it was his woman — the name failed you at the moment, but the intriguing freckled face, often marred with sadness, did not. “Charles saw it too, y’know?” she sounded from behind him, surely standing on her tiptoes for you saw another glimpse of her hair. “Charles, and Tilly, and John — bleedin’ John who’s never here has seen it. Everybody saw how you ate her with your eyes!”

“You’ve been on it since yesterday,” Dutch answered, his face showing neither sympathy nor worry about her tone. “Go get some rest. Lord knows you need it.”

“Ah, it would be easy for ya, wouldn’t it? Surely if I slept, if I disappeared, if I died, you’d be free to roam this earth after each pair of legs that may captivate ya.”

The vainglorious leader, now with a successfully lit cigar between his fingers, turned his back to you to direct his next words to the afflicted woman. “Die you shall if you spend another night wide-awake, thinking absurdities like the one you speak of.” Being met with an audible groan, he continued, “Rest, Miss O’Shea. Hopefully you oughta wake up more elucidated.”

Perhaps it was for the better that the broad-shouldered man kept her reaction veiled behind his physique and muffled her muttered response with an audible exhale. No, no 'perhaps'—it was meant to be, for it built the perfect suspense, pushing you just a tad closer to the scene in order to experience the long-awaited climax in the first row.

And, boy, did that also serve to wake the entire camp up.

Your ears caught the words, “You will know I didn’t cross the Atlantic to be your gimcrack,” before a satisfactory crack pierced the air. Angling your curious body, you were blessed with the view of the Irishwoman’s heels stomping on Dutch’s opera shellac record, straight out of his gramophone. His reaction was as expected; he let out a roar, dropped his cigar—which dangerously disappeared between his tent’s loose floorboards—and lunged at the redhead. At that very moment, you too dropped what you’re holding and charged forward to her aid, only to be rooted in place by a firm grasp on your upper arm. You turned to confront the new target of your rage, but upon facing a huffing Arthur Morgan, the grumbles emanating from within your chest ceased.

“I wanted you to feel it for yourself, but I don’t think you even have a heart to love a ting in the first place,” O’Shea continued, sounding ten paces farther away. “I’ll break whatever you own, and hope one day your pain will come near mine!”

A glance behind your shoulder was enough to spark another fire in you; the man’s big hands were then wrapped firmly around her arms. And you were sure to have convulsed under Morgan’s grasp. Alas, the sight wouldn’t come near as infuriating as the hushed threats against her ear, and ultimately the release of her as if she wasn’t worth his time. Before gathering with a somber Matthews, who was drawn in by the fight, Dutch turned to the disheveled one to let out a last hiss, “I dare you embark on the first ship back to your land,” and riveted his warning gaze towards you.

“Brown bears; damn fools, they is! If you drop on the ground and hold yer breath, you’s fine. Just never run away from one,” your old Pa said to a younger you one fine morning, while you’re out on the porch, cleaning his rifle, as he rocked on the creaky chair. “And then there’s alligators, who’s cleverer… Yer old Pa has a few scars with a bunch o’ stories along, uhum. Those ones will test yer body—have you runnin’ from side to side, jumpin’ on trees and all that good stuff. Thing is, ya can live from an encounter. Butcha won’t be runnin’ from the third one, I’ll tell ya. Ah, better yet... Heh, let time teach ya this lesson.”

And it did. For now, the third creature, the deadliest of all, was staring right back at you, its eyes reflecting a darkness you had never known.

It felt like ages had gone by when Linde broke the intense eye contact to march away from the troubles he created, a sigh of relief exiting your lungs as he did so. O’Shea remained silent after the entire ordeal. Still having to reclaim your freedom from Morgan, you watched her kick one of the record’s pieces and wander in circles inside her tent, finally resorting to sitting on her shared cot and burying her face in her hands.

“Grimshaw’s in need of more hands to clean them rifles,” Arthur finally said, oddly softly, as if he spoke with a child. Though you’d never heard him talk to Jack like that before. “Go on, then, girl.”

To say you were willing to risk your position in the gang to go running toward the weeping woman was an understatement. You were willing to risk your life, even! But… then what? You grew up around the silence of the woods, the teachings of your father that only served for hunting, and the bloodshed of innocent creatures — gallons after gallons of blood. Trivial aspects of life, like comforting one another or curling your lips around sweet words, were beyond your reach. So what if you ran toward her? So what if you took her freckled face out of her hands into your roughened ones? Could you muster the correct words to soothe her ache?

Thus, for a second time, you followed Morgan’s advice and stomped your way toward Susan Grimshaw and the many rifles on the table. The smell of gun oil and grease that would define your afternoon was never strong enough to erase the memory of the woman’s pale-green eyes, or how they danced nervously when she looked at her man.

✤ ✤ ✤

Tilly had come to you when the sun was setting in the plains’ horizon with a pleading look to her kind features. Her gaze would fall on the black grease coating your numb fingers, for a second thinking through on her request, but surrendering to her hidden urges.

You were to resume the laundry you left behind.

“’Course, anythin’,” you mumbled when wiping the sweat of your forehead with your wrist.

Your legs took you close to where the damned laundry basket was, curiously outside Dutch and O’Shea’s tent. You swallowed dryly, and without realizing it, you were tiptoeing toward the flaps-down tent.

For the first time since you joined the outlaws, an obnoxiously loud opera wasn’t resounding from the infamous gramophone. In fact, nothing was sounding from within—not even the muffled whimpers of a heartbroken and awfully tired woman. But it was the glow of a lamp seeping under the tarp that kept you on edge, enticing you to approach and press a curious eye to a single hole in the fabric separating you from…

…no one.

The stage for the early, rather disturbing event was lacking its main protagonists—whether for the worst or the better. You knew the leader had fled camp to trail trouble in some corner of the heartlands. Now, the whereabouts of the red-haired lady were truly unknown.

You knew how to look for tracks, traces of wandering life, and you did your best to find those in her tent, snooping through her belongings with a special focus on her clothes poking out of her bag and how flowery they all smelled… yes, all of them. Nevertheless, your time spent rummaging through her trinkets and personal items gave not a single clue about where she could be hiding.

For the bleak moment in hands, you found yourself fond of a golden necklace you’d seen around her neck that morning, the very same one with the oval red stone that hung tantalizingly near her freckled bosoms, calling curious eyes to ogle. Without much ceremony, you swooped the necklace into the old pouch strapped around your waist and headed north, toward the riverbank.

Arriving near the flowing stream, which served that night as a mirror for the stars above, you set the wash tubs, basket, an oil lamp, and your numb behind on the gravel, mentally preparing yourself for the pile of worn undergarments before you. You cussed under your breath; your fingers ached, and your hands bore light scars from the week of rough washing. The weight of leaving Pa’s shack to pursue what had become a living hell felt tenfold heavier upon your shoulders. Your posture sagged, you sighed, and you felt as though the cries of distant coyotes were the ones your lips wouldn’t dare utter, but were tempted to.

Your hands reached for the necklace again, bringing it before the faint glow of the crescent moon and the lamp you had brought along. You watched the gold chain dance between your fingers, the red stone resting in your palm, passing on the warmth you needed at that instant. And how odd it was that upon bringing it to your lips, you could hear its owner’s voice engulfing the open space around you.

“I bought it back in Galway while waitin’ to board the ship to America. An old gentleman was selling his families remainin’ heirlooms to pay for his daughter’s treatment. I thought it was in good condition, so I bought it.”

“Mhmm,” you replied, half-lidded eyes following the hypnotic dance you forced the necklace to make. From side to side, front and back.

“It’s true,” O’Shea’s voice resurfaced from somewhere, carrying frustration at your indifference. “That purchase was the best, and single good choice I made in my entire life. Needless to say, I want it back.”

The third time you heard that outlandish accent, it began to dawn on you that perhaps it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination driven by the guilt of stealing the woman’s necklace, but rather her real presence nearby. You whipped your head over your shoulder and saw a very real O’Shea leaning against a tree, a cigarette nestled between her fingers. Just how had you not seen her before was beyond your mortal comprehension, but there she was, enshrouded in a thick curtain of mystery.

“What’s your name, hm? I don’t believe even he knows your name.” You weren’t sure if by ‘he’ she meant Dutch or God himself… both options couldn’t be far from the truth.

“It’s… It’s…”

“I saw you earlier today,” she interrupted, saving you from the struggle of letting your name roll off your tongue, which on normal days was as easy as breathing. But the woman seemed too engrossed in her own battles to notice the unpleasantry. She then took a long drag from her cigarette and placed a supporting arm over her stomach. “What would’ve you done if Arthur hadn’t stopped you?”

Long gone were the days of washing, you thought to yourself. It was high time to seek after what truly mattered to a low-life like you. So, taking the rickety lamp, you set sail over to where she was standing, letting the crickets and hoots fill the night air while ideas blossomed in your mind. One of them was stopping just an arm’s length from her and motioning for the cigarette in her hold. You proudly watched as she guided the tobacco-filled roll to your lips, and soon enough, felt the bitter smoke fill your lungs.

“No good, that’s for sure,” you replied huskily.

“Well, I must know. Should’ve I been the object of your anger, that is.”

“I would make him learn and remember my name for centuries to come. Not the other way around.”

The shadow your body casted over O’Shea’s was not enough to hide the raise of her eyebrows, like she wanted to believe it did. Had you just then impressed or utterly disappointed her continued a mystery, for she took on the duty of raising her walls even higher — a delectable challenge for you to indulge in.

“Hmph,” she shrugged lightly, busying herself with extinguishing her cigarette. It wasn’t until her perfectly pointy nose was breathing hot air against your exposed clavicle that you saw fit to place an arm on the tree above her head, in an effort to stop leaning onto her petite self. Though she didn’t seem to mind at all once she continued, “Can’t say gracing him with the knowledge of your name would be a good offensive. Other than terribly tamed, is quite… unfair, no?”

“Right,” you chuckled, taking a deep breath in anticipation of what was about to happen. First, you took the same hand that held the cigarette — soft to the touch, as you’d imagined — and placed the valuable necklace in it. Once your gaze returned to hers, your name slipped past your lips without further hesitation.

“Right,” she echoed, her tongue sliding across her bottom lip as she watched you step back, providing more space between your bodies. Suddenly, the cold air was unbearable to the Irishwoman. “You, erm…. You don’t have to meddle in mine and Dutch’s affairs anymore. I’m sure one day we’ll be back to normal again, and all shall be fine. I’m tempted, even, to say you shouldn’t have interfered in the first place.”

A chuckle paved the path for your tease, “I see a perfectly normal woman standin’ before me.”

“I bet me honor if somebody were to demand you to point at Molly, you wouldn’t know it is I, sweetheart.”

“Aha! That’s ‘cause I’d never raise a finger at yo’self! Now, if we’re talking about the high-and-mighty Dutch —"

"He loves me!" Molly yelled, her fists curling defensively in front of her torso. To you, this seemed like a stance ready to strike or flee. But instead of running, as her posture suggested, she marched toward you and used her fists to shove you. Though not hard enough to make you fall, you stumbled backward, feeling the pain her hands inflicted on your chest soon after. "You have no idea how I crossed the Atlantic for him, how I left everything in Ireland to follow him. I’ve shed who I was, who I could even become, just to fit here with him. Go ahead, join the others as they laugh at the fool I am! Surely that's what they’re all doin' now!”

Her body trembled like the tiny flame inside the lamp swaying in your hands. Just as you had once wished as a child, you wanted to reach out and touch it, despite all the evident warning signs. You remembered watching Pa extinguish a candle with his thumb and index finger while you soothed your own burned fingers. Back then, you attributed that ability, and that alone, to men — to control fire — and how you envied them to have touched what you could only dream of.

Luckily, the world seemed on your side for once when a distinguishable crunch sounded beneath your boot. You looked down to find the necklace which had been sacrificed during her outburst. Before she took notice of it, you snatched and carefully placed in her hold again, oddly welcoming. “Indeed, buyin’ this necklace is worth the title you gave it,” was your final comment on the matter, a prolonged silence being the deserving answer. “Well,” you sighed, “why don’t ya stop by my tent one of these days while you wait to become normal again? I ain’t got much to offer, but…”

“What, am I supposed to greet Tilly on me way in? Isn’t she the one you share your tent with?”

It wasn’t coarse or unpleasant in the least. The comment was, by all means, very ‘Molly’, and was met with nothing except an affectioned smile.

“Yer sayin’ the offer interested the likes of ya?”

O’Shea’s eyes wandered over the plain’s surroundings, blinking at every tree as if they were her audience, darting from the starry sky to the plain river behind you. She wasn’t pondering the question, no; she was grounding herself. When her gaze returned to you, her gentle green eyes flickered slightly, a maddened waltz not from fear of you but from the turmoil within her. You could only watch as she reached a personal conclusion, her nostrils flaring as she took a determined gulp of breath.

“What I am saying is mine’s far less crowded.”

✤

Much like a drunk bastard forced to go a minute without a drop of alcohol, you found yourself weak in the minutes it took to wash your face in the communal bucket of water and change into something less worn out. Your mind had come to terms with “Molly” being the only name that mattered, and from the vast knowledge about nature and hunting that once occupied your thoughts, now, nothing outside the realm of 'her' held any importance. Obviously, the feeble state of your mind was kept a secret as you marched towards Molly’s tent. The strength with which your boots left several holes in the patch of grass made most onlookers think a fight was brewing.

But all that energy died out once you stopped by the quiet tent.

What if it was a trap? Your primal instincts questioned as you crossed your arms and bit your bottom lip. What if Dutch were standing behind those closed flaps, his 5'11" frame proud and undoubtedly satisfied with his recent catch?

You began to taste blood.

Oh, but what if she was alone, after all? What if you came all this way, bent over backwards, only to be denied what you've been craving? Would you bite the bullet or would you die with it lodged in your head?

The inner dispute, loudly resonating across every corner of your mind, left almost no space for the muffled voice coming from within the tent.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” Molly said, her tone mirroring the one in your head — ardently desperate. Surely, the big shadow your body cast over the white canvas gave away your presence, not to mention the questions of several gang members about your incessant pacing, for she quickly continued, making it clear she was speaking to you, “Call me old-fashioned, but whatever you came here to do, you must to do facing me. Otherwise, be on your way.”

“Damn, you seem set on the idea that folks laughin’ at ya. Hell, do ya think I’m too? ‘Cause if so…”

“I can guarantee the only ting I’ve got me mind set on is that I don’t want to be lonely any longer than I’ve been.”

“Why, ain’t that…” you began, yet much like the chaos previously flooding your head, it watered down into pure hollowness. The sadness inflicted through her words carving unbearable holes in your insides. “I’m heading in.”

For once, the cluttered interior with its woodsy scent and Linde’s riches on display did not capture your attention. Instead, it was O'Shea who was quietly sitting on a stool, her back turned to you, holding a small pocket mirror angled to reflect your entire figure as you entered.

It took you a moment to fully take in her appearance: her delicate frame clad only in white undergarments, her hair braided to the side to showcase the golden necklace resting around her neck, and her bare shoulders rising and falling with the slow, hypnotic rhythm of her breathing.

The steps you took towards her had caused cracks from the loose floorboards, but even then, even if a gunshot sounded from within the tent, you wouldn’t have taken your eyes off the figure before you.

“For your information,” she began with a tilt in her tone, “he never hurt me. Physically, that is. He never made me regret me choices, either. I love him. I painstakingly love him; with all my heart, in every breath I take.”

Sacrificing your knees, you leveled your face with the back of her head, fingers aching to touch the crook of her neck and her soft hair but instead choosing to play along with her game. “That sounds like a big ordeal.”

Once again, she used her mirror to gaze at you, but you could only see her parted, red lips reflected in the tiny surface. You watched them exhale a shaky breath, if not for the sudden lack of oxygen felt inside the tent. “That it is.”

“Then you must be tired of lovin’ too much and receivin’ nothin’ in return...”

Whether it was from the drunken haze her scent indulged you in, or from the deep-seated urge in your heart to make her forget about Dutch, you wasted no further time and pressed your lips to her bare back, prompting a short melody to slip past her lips. Her skin, as expected, was on fire, as if each freckle was an ember in the bonfire that Molly O’Shea has become. And of course, it drove you crazy, urging you to plant more kisses across the small region until she graced you with a proper answer.

“Tired? I — Ah — am nothin’ of the kind. All this lovin’, all this sacrifice will eventually pay off.”

You grinned against her skin, teasing a small area with the tip of your tongue and finishing with a light bite. “You know, lovin’ someone shouldn’t involve sacrifice. You're puttin’ in overtime, honey. Maybe it's time to find some shade under someone else's tree,” you rasped out.

The pocket mirror shook, and in the exact second your eyes poked out from behind her shoulder you saw a glimpse of her closed eyes, “What do you suggest, then?”

“I think the woman ‘fore me was promised many things already, hm?”

“It pains me to say this,” Molly mumbled with a single nod, dropping the mirror to reach out for your compliant hands, intertwining them with hers in front of her. “But you do know me so well.”

Never before had you tasked your lips with such a delicate mission as trailing kisses from her shoulder to her neck. It was a challenging endeavor, especially since with each touch, the Irishwoman would gasp and lean further back into you, igniting the flames of what had once been an innocent and rather controlled fire between the two of you. When you reached her ear and playfully bit her earlobe, she had surrendered completely — squirming, moaning, and despite her efforts, unable to conceal the squeezing of her thighs from your hungry gaze. And you ventured to the edge of boundaries, indulging in the pleasure of sliding the straps of her nightgown down, unaware that gravity would reveal more than just the skin of her shoulders.

As for Molly, she loved how the realization that her breasts were bare had you scrambling to your feet and circling her body. Finally, driving someone crazy wasn’t met with dire consequences; instead, it brought a familiar blush to her cheeks and made the remaining clothes draped over her curves feel too tight.

“Damn me,” you choked as you sunk to your knees again, throat bobbing several times with the moans you successfully strangled.

O’Shea smiled for the first time before your eyes, leaning forward just to tease what had your mouth rapidly watering. “Someone definitely will, sweetheart. Perhaps even God himself. But I honestly couldn’t give a bleedin’ damn.”

“And to me? What’ll you give?”

Her hands suddenly flew to your hair, fingers getting tangled in the mess of knots, adding to the delicious pain as she pulled them against the roots. Soon, you understood her message and leveled your face with hers, closing any distance as she pressed her lips to yours, inviting your body closer with the opening of her legs. When her lips parted between kisses, not for air like you had thought, she blurted her answer…

“Everything.”

You had no exact answer, but you figured that the second you began flicking her nipples, to outright tugging on them, Molly had to internally scream at each of her bones to support the weight of her flesh as it seemed to feel tenfold heavier. Needless to say, the second your mouth left hers to envelop one of her hardened nubs, the woman couldn't hold her tongue any longer. A loud moan tore itself from her throat, echoing throughout the room. The sensation was overwhelming, causing every nerve ending in her body to spark alive with pleasure. The grip she had on your hair tightened, pulling slightly as if trying to force your head down even further onto her nipple.

Feeling emboldened by Molly's pleas, you slowly ventured your fingers downward, past the hem of her nightgown. Your fingertips brushed against the delicate fabric, teasing her further before finally dipping below into the wet mess she had been housing between her legs. Your fingers slid easily through her slick folds, the warmth and wetness enveloping them almost immediately. Molly's breath hitched, her body stiffening beneath yours as you explored her most intimate area. Her inner walls clenched around nothing, desperately seeking something — someone — to fill them.

You could practically hear the desperation in Molly's ragged breaths, her body writhing beneath yours as you continued to tease her clit with your fingers. “You're makin’ me crazy,” you gasped, though the swell of her breasts, which your face had been wantonly buried in, muffled each of your words. Regardless, every brush of your fingers against her sensitive clit sent shocks of pleasure coursing through her body, causing her to buck and writhe beneath you. The feeling, you came to understand, was more than mutual.

“You’re wasting your breath on something useless as words,” was all Molly managed to get out. Her hips jerked upwards involuntarily, seeking friction from your wandering hand.

Taking advantage of her exposed position, you shifted down, trailing kisses along the valley between her breasts, to her stomach, down to her mound. With deliberate slowness, you replaced your fingers with your mouth, swirling your tongue over her swollen clit.

Molly's reaction was immediate and visceral. Her hands sought support at the edge of her stool, her knuckles turning white.

Your tongue worked tirelessly over her clit, lapping at the throbbing bundle of nerves with relentless determination, releasing sinful sounds into the warm air. With each flick and suckle, Molly’s breathing grew heavier, her moans louder. Then, without warning, her entire world narrowed down to the point where your mouth was touching her. Every worry, every heartache seemed to fade into the background, allowing her the rare moment to exist outside of thoughts about Dutch, her family back in Ireland, and the love she had longed to experience. Her back arched off the stool, her core clenching and releasing in rhythmic spasms as she came hard. And hard she came.

You couldn't control yourself either. The same whirlwind that had clearly swept through the Irishwoman had also affected you, though the chaos it caused within you wasn't as visibly exposed as it was on her. In other words, even the sweat coating her freckled skin deserved your appreciation, as it added a glow to the already god-like figure looking down upon you with something akin to adoration.

“Will you stay the night?” Molly purred tiredly as you took on the duty of securing her weakened body into her shared cot. Your eyes glimmered with lust as she wrapped her arms around your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses on your skin. Alas, even that seemed to wear her down completely. Gently, you laid her bare body down on the cot, unable to resist giving her one last kiss, though you kept it brief.

“Ah, don’t go playing games now,” she chuckled upon seeing you fix your clothing and ready yourself to leave. “Stay.”

“I’m gonna take ya outta this sorry life…”

“Mhmm.”

It was your turn to chuckle at the utter beauty of her sleepy face. “I’ll try with all my might to give Molly O’Shea the life she deserves.”

Her face suddenly grew grim, though her tiredness limited the severity of the grimace she meant to flash you. “Promises…” she breathed out, her eyelids growing heavier. “Promises,” she murmured before surrendering to the strong force pulling her into the depths of slumber, but not before a final, “promises,” slipped past her lipstick-smudged lips.

On the nightstand beside the now-sleeping figure, along with an oil lamp, was a forgotten glass of whiskey with a residual liquid resting at the bottom. There were no traces of red lipstick on its round edges, so you figured, as you brought the glass closer to your face, that it belonged to Van der Linde. Not that it gave you any pleasure or — God forbid — played into any fantasy you might’ve had for him, but taking the glass to your lips, feeling the bitter liquid burn down your throat, and later placing it back next to Molly’s spent figure felt like fulfilling a duty.

With that in mind, you tucked the woman in, giving her forehead one last kiss before making your way out.

The camp, much to your relief, was still buzzing with life. No one seemed to have any idea of what had transpired inside the tent, including the newcomers who had just arrived.

Yes.

Just as you stepped outside the tent, Dutch and four other men rode into camp on their horses. Some people welcomed them, while others, like you, stood their ground. It was dangerous, and you knew it: standing there in the predator’s den, bearing nothing but a victorious smile on your weary face as he made his way to his resting place. But old Pa didn’t know — and how could he? — that the deadliest creature was, in fact, an easy kill.

Only, it wouldn’t take a bullet or an arrow.

It would take some cunning and the golden necklace tangled around your fingers.

[eemcintyre]

I know this is a bit of a controversial theory and I understand why some people don't like it, but I'd honestly be okay with it if the endgame of Terry Silver's character is that he's dying.

As much as anyone who knows me knows I adore him, I love a lot of the other characters too and I don't want to see a series where the bad guys win. Plus, that would never be allowed to happen in a thousand years, what kind of parting message would that be, and if Terry doesn't win but remains alive, what other possible outcome is there for him?

No way he'd just go back to the vapid life by the beach where we were initially reintroduced to him, and I doubt he'd go to prison, or at least stay there for any significant amount of time, bc as many have accurately said, rich people don't go to prison, silly!! But Terry is so determined and proud and plain feral at this point and he has so much at stake even if he's not dying; man's not just going to go peacefully into the sunset or, God forbid, surrender or turn good- I genuinely think that the only thing to stop him at this point that would be remotely realistic and fitting would be death.

And really, it would be so incredibly and beautifully tragic and befitting the messages of the show (whatever is left of those at this point; just think of the first couple seasons ig) if, after a life of doing whatever needs to be done to get to the top and maintain control over everything and everyone, despite having what seems to be all the power and money in the world, if you wield it with evil intentions, you ultimately end up with nothing that really matters. One of the main themes of the show used to be that violence just begets more violence; it's an ouroboros that just ends up eating itself; it is self-destructive.

Terry seems to want legacy more than anything else; deep down, I think he fears being insignificant/forgotten and losing control more than anything. However, he's gone about it all wrong, to put it mildly, and all it seems he will leave behind that will last is pain and fear- which, if that's what he wants, then there you go, but somehow I don't think it is. I believe he really wants people to, sure, have enough concern to make them think twice about crossing him, but to marvel at his great, lasting accomplishments and also admire, and perhaps even love him. But in his quest for absolute control and with his belief that he's above pretty much everyone, plus, oh idk perhaps the malice and violence, that will not be a thing that happens. Anyway, that's a bit of a separate conversation.

Back to what I was saying about what he fears more than anything; perhaps these are the only things he fears- being insignificant/forgotten and losing control. As for the latter, it would be such poetic tragedy if, after a life of trying to be and probably believing that he is so much greater and better than everyone else, and seeking constant control, he is ultimately met with the one thing he can't control and which equalizes him to everyone else. Terry is convinced that nothing but a grand death on the battlefield becomes him, yet he ends up comparatively quietly passing away on a hospital bed like most everyone else.

Listen, I know it would be so profoundly tragic and I get sad just thinking about it, but I sincerely believe it would be the most interesting, realistic and meaningful ending, and I would be satisfied with it.

[livethrushit]

Submitted by Jamie Aster (they/them) for the Pride Signs project. People who identify as Queer and disabled can submit signs they would have carried at pride events if these events were made accessible. All submissions must have a reference to f@lastine. Fundraisers will be included in every post.

Jamie on their piece: Silence = Death. We have seen this reflected in both queer and Pali struggles with how our elected officials choose to deal with our communities. During this month in particular, the zionist entity loves to claim equality while weaponizing queerness to blackmail queer Palis and outing them to their families. This is how a colonial entity "cares" for queers. Smoke and mirrors as they strip other queer communities of their humanity, using their queerness to cause further disenfranchisement. We refuse pinkwashing, we refuse gncid, we refuse to ignore or contribute towards disabled suffering, we refuse to be silent.

Follow me, this project, and other queer anti-zionist jewish disability advocacy at pqdj_archive on ig

Donate to the fund:

[itonashi]

YOURE REO FICS ARE CHEFKISS let me request a fic wehere Reo and reader are in a secret relationship (reader wants to)

SHHH...

[ part 2 ]

pairing: reo mikage x fem!reader

warning: rumors(ig), fluff. idk. not proofread (i hate reading things that i wrote.). how the both of you met and date.

note: thxxx, hehe. i love seeing ppl said that. but like does anyone want to send an ask about other characters :p. this reo fic one probably around 1k ish wordcount idk. i will always mentioned nagi on my reo fics bro.

you didn't want the relationship of the two of you to be revealed publicly because you feared that something might happened. reo was born as the heir of mikage corporation with total assets valued at 705.8 billion yen. you was born onto a middle class family (if you could say that.), your father was a worker at mikage corporation with a high position. while you maybe have met reo's parent through your father when you were a child. being in a public relationship with reo is a risky move, as someone out there would spread rumors about you. i mean dating your father's boss son? some mean people out there would call you things.

you have experienced it yourself after all, it was nasty. unlike reo, you didn't have any talent. your little brother received many things at an early age but you received only some rewards in your life — but you know which path you're gonna go. you're not going onto the business path. you liked art.

reo supported your decision on going the artist path. you took a liking to painting and sculpture. reo was so kind, he gave you anything that you want that's related to art. you tried to reason with him that he shouldn't always do that to you. buying everything you wanted and his response is always the same.

"my love language is buying you gifts anyways."

"but!"

"you shouldn't worried about my money. I love you the most."

he met you multiple times when you guys were in middle school. you guys simply went to the same school because of your parents. that time, he didn't took any interest of you, you didn't care about it since getting noticed by him is probably a death execution. your middle school had an imbalance of power, where the rich is on top and the poor is the low one. it wasn't equality.

on your third year of middle school, you finally interacted with reo mikage on the rooftop. it was because he personally called you there, alone. he wanted to talked about something to you related to the unfairness that the 'elite school' was giving to the poor. you don't know what you did to attract his attention to you and you definitely didn't expected for him to talked to you about this.

that's where your relationship started...

he started going to your class, he started to eat lunch with you, he started to go out with you to the library, he started to defend you. he started everything with you — since he wanted to close your relationship with him before he executed his plan for the school.

"are you sure about this, reo?"

"yeah. if we start with getting closer with the other class that is deemed the unlucky one maybe we can make them climb up the rank. starting with their academics."

"do you have the patience for it?"

"of course. im not one to suddenly call someone and start mocking them."

"true, you're not like them. are you really confident that you will change the school for the new generations that's to come."

"shhh... don't doubt my skills."

after you had planned about it, reo suggested that you two go to an arcade to go take your mind off of something before things happened. he really treats people well as he also pay for the arcade. the first game as usual was a claw machine, you saw a cute eevee plushie and you wanted it. you tug reo's sleeve towards it to watch you get the plushie but you failed miserably, reo laughed at you and gently pushed you aside to get you the plushie you wanted.

as the talented prodigy he is, he got it in one try. "this is what you want, right." he hold out the eevee plushie to you and you nodded, uttering a thank you to him as you took it from his hand. the tips of your ear was red, you could contain the blush coming to your face but not your ears. reo probably noticed your ears, he have keen eyes that you cannot avoid.

hours were you guys playing in the arcade and let's just say he really got you many plushie (but not that much as you would feel overwhelmed with it). you absolutely loved the cinnamoroll plushie he got you. it was cute, it got a bear costume on it, you adored it.

"between the eevee and the cinnamoroll one, which one do you like more?"

"i like anything you got me."

you were straightforward for your answer and reo was taken back by it since he was surprised by your bluntness. you would always sugarcoat some of your words to not seem mean as you were quite sarcastic. it was probably his turn now to blushed but it goes unnoticed by you as you were focused on your plushies.

you like animal plushies, maybe between him and your animal plushies — you would trade him to get a plushie.

all the plan worked, but you were hurt in the process. for you, it wasn't anything serious. but for reo, it was very serious. he felt guilty for it — but you reassured him that it wasn't his fault and you were just unlucky to be cornered up by some girls. he paid for your treatment. you guys were basically partner in crime. what's important to you, that is — the school didn't have an imbalance of power anymore, everyone was treated equally and it was all because of you and reo.

but you would give all the credit to reo as he was the brain.

graduation of middle school came fast enough, so you enjoyed the graduation with reo. even though you went up stage for some rewards — reo was basically the honor student.

"congratulations on your graduation, [name]."

"you too, reo."

you took some pictures with him, you kept it. 'maybe i should make an album...' you thought while looking at the pictures you took with reo, sliding through some of it... you saw how close you have been getting too reo that you were having mixed feelings. you weren't sure that you actually liked him in the romantic way or platonic way... you hoped that it was platonic.

oh, you were so wrong.

since you two were just 'partner in crime' it basically means that you guys didn't hung out that much outside of school. it was always in the library, in a corner where people don't see you guys that much. it was reserved everytime you guys want to use it so that people doesn't used it (mean).

over the weekends, you basically stay at your house. you missed him, you wanted to see him physically not just chatting with him on the phone on some apps. bored out of your mind, even though you were chatting with him right now.

reo: why are you not going out.

you: you can't say that to me when you were basically a sheltered child.

reo: you showing your mean side to me 😞

you: k, reo.

reo: what the hell.. "k,reo."?????? bffr.

you snickered at yourself. laying in bed all alone, nothing to do. just dangling your feet at home while your prodigy little brother is probably making achievement. hearing a ding again at your phone, you checked it and reo recommend you try art to spend your time with. you had some art supplies — you thought maybe you could try it and you replied with thank you to reo.

clay in hand, paint on the table. you start making your favorite animal, which is a koala. you knead the clay and start shaping it. you did it step by step and start painting the parts. the final results was quite funky but you didn't cared. your hand was a little messy but you took a picture of the koala and sent it to reo.

he 'AHAHAHA' the koala and you were offended. seeing at how he reacted, you were determined to make an improved koala of it. you replied with 'can we facetime?'. reo almost drop his phone when he saw the message, face timing with you... he should agreed to it since he would probably saw you wearing a casual clothes for once and not a school uniform. you probably suggest it because you wanted him to see the progress of you making a new and improved koala shaped clay.

minutes in of the face timing — and reo couldn't take his eyes of your pulled on sleeves, you were wearing a baggy sweater so reo couldn't see your body curves (and you would like it to stay that way). you kept a ponytail on to keep your hair out of your face while you were working on your clay. from time to time reo would comment on your clay when you showed it to him.

taking his advices seriously, you managed to make a perfect koala shaped clay and you were proud of it. reo could see the improvement between your first try and your latest one. he didn't saw a flaw on your latest on. you two didn't noticed it but the call went for hours. you guys relationship went to a new level and you were certain that the feelings you were having is romantic.

you two started dating on the middle of the year on your first year of highschool. reo was the first one to confessed when you got an expensive chocolate under your desk. you basically knew it was him when you noticed the expensive brand chocolate. it was your first time seeing him nervous to confessed to you, regardless you accepted him as he was the man you liked too.

you were very secretive of your life so reo agreed to you that he and you would be in a secret relationship without anyone knowing. you two were in a different class on first year, so it was easy to not meet each other that much but you two would always make time to pass eachother on the hallways or cafeteria.

reo would secretly gave you food to add on your bento when you weren't in the classroom. you would gave him drinks whenever you guys pass eachother. you guys didn't argue much, infact it was mostly playful banter. reo was easily jealous since he would always see you talking to nagi seishiro (aka his future best friend), you reassured him it was only because nagi played a game you liked and they coincidentally clicked. reo when he was jealous... he was cute, you can never denied that.

boys and girls would always come up to reo so being jealous was of course always there but you managed to contained it since it was a daily thing to you.

second year came and reo said to you that he and nagi (the person he was jealous off because you and him kept talking) is now friends because nagi is someone that he need for his winning worldcup desire. you didn't mind it since nagi is also a friend to you and you three became a trio. it was good that no one suspected you and reo were a couple but some people start a rumors that you and nagi were the one dating.

as they claimed that they always saw you and nagi playing games together while reo just sat around (that claimed was not true because most of the time reo played it for you since you were basically just mid at it). they honestly only just caught you in a wrong time that's all. but it soon enough dies down after they saw how nagi was very uninterested towards you.

even nagi doesn't know you and reo are lover.

[ditzydreamsss]

Slimecicle haunted house video + scu (nvm it's just a lore rant now)

my personal order of scu lore events:

- roll. - Minecraft, but every block is HOSTILE. - Minecraft, but every 5 minutes there's a natural disaster - Minecraft, but it's way more traumatizing - Minecraft, but 100 players are hunting me - The HARDEST Minecraft Difficulty - I Spent 24 Hours in the Most Haunted Place on Earth - DSMP arc - We Spent 100 Days in a Hardcore Minecraft Apocalypse

so how does that fit in?

well vaguely the entire lore i came up with is:

roll. : the start of everything. Charlie and his friends are just wandering around worlds when they load into Narwhal's world- the world with the dice of a hundred(?) sides. After Narwhal fucking. drops the dice on accident, Charlie "consumes" the power from the dice and now oh look he's the most powerful god in existence. Ig reason why Charlie was able to get into Narwhal's server, which is a private server, is because of his abilities to temper with The Code (which is the thing that makes up everything in the world). Kinda like atoms for us. Maybe Charlie's a long lost descendent of the Original God. idk. anyways Charlie splits his newfound powers between Condi and Grizzly. Wheatie leaves them (and never comes back) because he doesn't want to be associated with god powers. They leave on a good note.

Minecraft, but every block is HOSTILE. AND Minecraft, but every 5 minutes there's a natural disaster : They meet Schlatt, he's a funny guy so Charlie gives him god powers and now whoopsie he went psycho. At the end, Charlie banishes him and that does weaken his power, but Charlie's mistake was that he never took away Schlatt's powers, only weakened them.

RLCraft & A Hundred Players are breaks that The Council takes from all these god things. At some point Bizly, a friend they know from a game of DND, becomes a god. After Bizly becomes a god they build Molympus, which is a home for them.

Then after who-knows-how-long, The Council has the bright idea to start The HARDEST Minecraft Difficulty.

Grizzly dies in this.

alright so time for Haunted Asylum stuff.

Charlie, Condi, and Bizly decided to go on a trip to the Real World, which means they will be powerless.

And then at some point they play chess as a ghost. The ghost is Grizzly, who is technically in limbo?

This one specific chess set has connections to the limbo (shh shh plot armor).

(grizzly's comment on the video)

which. of course. equals LORE.

Grizzly's limbo was like he was in a white foggy void (like in the skies with your render distance 0 in mc) and suddenly a chess board popped up. he played along for a little bit before he got annoyed and knocked over all the pieces. The chess board at some point faded away and disappeared. mmm trauma

And then Charlie loses both Bizly and Condi (they literally die canonically)

what happens to condi & bizly & Grizzly:

Condi and Bizly are sent to the afterlife. Because of their connection with Grizzly, their death is the push that lets Grizzly free of his limbo.

They meet up and they're just thinking "bruhh when's Charlie going to join us its been ages"

MEANWHILE

Charlie revists old world's, but is unable to revive anyone, so in grief he resets the entire universe.

He loses his memory in the process.

He becomes c!slime. He stays in the world that would, in many many years, become the Dream Esempii. (Esempii's are how they define multi-people server worlds with admins and stuff)

So Slime leaves Las Nevadas and travels to a random island and stays there, in a pit-hole, until a very long long time later, scientists find Slime and put him in their laboratory. Slime can barely process anything.

Then the zombie virus breaks out (yes, in thosuands-of-years-later DSMP server), and everything goes to shit.

Remeber Schlatt? The ram guy? (Oh yeah also in the reset, Charlie locked up his god powers somewhere very deep inside him)

Schlatt breaks the glass for Charlie. The tube he's in when the video starts.

What are the doubles?

Basically, characters like Florida Man or Patient Zero are like puppets that Slimecicle made himself. His powers, locked away, didn't have anything better to do if as Slime slept for like an eternity.

The Mad Scientist (100days!Condi) was created with the only goal to ruin the world. So he did.

etc, etc.

((*slams The Court Jester on the table* m u s i c))

Since Schlatt had plenty of time to get his power back. So he's stronger than Charlie now. (Charlie's memories got buried deeper into his mind during when he was "sleeping")

Charlie dies.

Then then reunites with the rest of the council.

who, by the way, created a new completely vanilla world with normal respawns and normal mobs, etc.

they escaped the afterlife cause they're gods, idk.

many many years later, a man stumbles upon the vanilla world, or the Reset, with a friend on his shoulders.

His name is Ted.

The friend's name is Schlatt.

Schlatt, who went mad after he killed Charlie, was found by Ted when he was broken. Ted convinced Schlatt to. just let go of his powers because Schlatt actually pulled that power from someone else (idk who, say.. uhhhh.... corn!Charlie or smth). Schlatt lets go. And proceeds to forget everything.

They all chilling now.

started JRWI (Riptide, Prime Defenders, the one-shots, etc.), The Chuckle Sandwich Podcast, etc etc.

Hold on i have this old doc about me ranting about lore one sec..

-----

.....said me. in the past.

think i already posted that before but heres the updated version??

the main point was the Haunted Asylum the rest of it is blurry and mushy and I can change it any time.

[hyperfixatedonstuff]

for a game/comic series with far more men than women tf2 writes their female characters very well.

like miss pauling, the administrator, and zhanna are the most prominent female characters and they’re all REAL CHARACTERS.

Miss Pauling is shown to be very good at her job but they also develop other parts of her character. For example, in Grey Mann’s death scene we learn that she isn’t just blindly following the administrator. She’s aware of what she’s doing and while she’s not fully aware of Helen’s plans, she knows that they likely aren’t well intentioned but she still follows through. In her scenes with the administrator(their death specifically) we see more of the trust she’s put in her starting to crumble or at least falter. Then with Zhanna she opens up about failing and not knowing what to do.

Even though a huge joke of her character is that she only gets one day off we still get to see part of her off work. In Gargoyles and Gravel we get to see that she’s creative and enjoys fantasy games and that she’s a bit nerdy! I just think it’s so sweet that she’s a woman dedicated to her job but that isn’t ALL she is yk?

And we get to see her relationships with all the different mercs! Like when she offers Sniper tips on disposing bodies or when she breaks down in front of Spy or when tfc Spy is pretending to be Heavy! She’s taken seriously by the other mercs and they often look to her to decide what to do next but it’s clear they also view her as their friend and i just like that a lot.

This is kind of a mess but my point is that she’s a very complex character that isn’t needlessly sexualized and watered down. She’s given equal and in some cases more development than her male counterparts.

Then there’s Zhanna, who is originally introduced as Heavy’s sister and then becomes Soldier’s fiancée. My favorite thing about this is that she’s capable of being both. I know it sounds stupid to say but in so much media women loose so much character once they’re paired off with a man. But Zhanna doesn’t! She still does stuff on her own like breaking herself and Soldier out from the tfc team. And then another thing is that her feud with Miss Pauling actually makes sense. Obviously Miss Pauling isn’t interested in him but when they first meet and go to New Zealand and Soldier and Pauling try to have that conversation abt her ofc it’s suspicious. Pauling was suspicious of her so ofc she’d be suspicious in return. But when Zhanna finds Miss Pauling stressed out abt her job and the australium and Pauling confides in her, she puts aside her doubts and reassures her that they are a team and they’ll figure it out!

Then there’s the Administrator. I don’t have much to say about her besides the fact that she’s constantly credited as a mastermind and everyone respects/fears her power.

This was completely unprompted and random so it’s very unorganized but i just wanted to talk abt it bc the way some of the tf2 fandom talks abt women sucks and it makes me happy that the writers don’t write them in that way ig.

[bengiyo]

Laws of Attraction Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, we met the best character in the entire show: Nawin. He is gay, unhinged, violent, and so sexy he doesn't wear shirts or underwear in pink suits. He is Chan's ex, and sheltered Chan and Tin. Meanwhile, Thantai is stupid and is posting boyfriend vids on IG while on the run. We also learned that his mom died giving birth to him. Nawin's house in an architectural nightmare. Tin broke the bed after being left there handcuffed by Chan so he can try to blackmail Thatthep. Let's finish this.

Rose is getting ready for whatever they have planned while Maya streams nearby. This has me thinking about criminals who get caught because of their wives' YouTube channels.

Nawin was mooning over Chan until Tin reminded him that he was dumped and now they're in a boxing ring. Amazing.

Nawin, you were the best character. Thank you for your brief time with us.

Okay, the Tin-Thee team up was fun.

They are live streaming this meeting on Maya's channel. Incredible. Perfect show.

Thatthep pulled out that smartphone flashlight so fast.

Chan, are you really worried about Nawin hitting Tin right now?

Now I know I did not spend seven weeks with this show to watch a gay bleed out in his lover's arms.

Oh good. Armed lesbians are here.

Chan is the only smart person in an action drama ever. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, even though he still took a shot to the arm.

Thantai escaping the plane because he was so annoying is exactly on brand. You were so right @ginnymoonbeam.

Love that Chan did all this to guarantee Thatthep's downfall.

Of course Chan is an annoying patient.

Galaxia is back and she's still teasing Tin!

With the genre constraints around sex, I like that the show continues to tease that the couples of this show are having a great time with each other.

Okay, I'm a bougie TV person. If you are seeing me, please don't ever leave a sticky note on any of my TVs.

I'm glad that this show is going for marriage equality as well. A lot of folks who will never watch other BL are probably going to watch this. It's a big deal.

Chan is so gay. I love him.

Yes, I have also watched lesbians tackle gays when they announced their wedding date.

I love Nawin. "If you hurt him I'll hurt you! Wait! Yes! Hurt him so he and I can get back together!" Best character ever.

This show is great. Thatthep threatens Chan one more time and the next scene is him being murdered in prison, the news report downplaying it, and then a smash cut to the wedding photos.

Man, I still don't feel for Thantai much.

I'm missing my grandmothers again.

Of course Chan's chest is out at this wedding.

Nawin is so upset about their wedding that he had to put a shirt on.

Oh lord we got another biter.

I do love Silvy's voice.

Okay, I cried at seeing Tonkhao's dolls getting their own seat. I'm so glad this show never forgot about her or used her death as a joke.

Jam and Film, and all of their friends, had so much fun making this.

Maya and Rose got married, too!!!

Chan wasn't disbarred, and is back to being dramatic for cameras!

Look at Tin having reasonable expectations of Chan.

Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. This was so much fun. I thoroughly enjoyed One31 making another lakorn. With Jam and Film as romantic leads. Every week I got to cackle at the unhinged gay antics of this show and got to enjoy some great performances along the way. Go into this with the right genre expectations and you'll have a blast.

[kcuf-ad]

Aight bet- I’ll start off with some things I like you may already know XD

Well written female characters given equal amounts of flaws and development in both character and strength depending on the type of media to the male characters, that’s given for almost any show I like really

MONSTROUS CHARACTERs. I’m not taking about like oh cute petite anime girl/boy with like a tail or some horns I’m TALKING MADOKA MAGICA WITCHES THOS GIANT WEIRD THINGS IN EVANGELION. I WANT MONSTERS THAT LOOK LIKE THEIR AN EXSTENTIAL NIGHTMARE!! It’s so gender envy ngl ✨💕 wish that were me

FATHER DAUGHTER DUOS, BONNEY AND KUMA?! DID NOT CARE THAT MUCH EXCEPT TAHT BONNEY WAS RELATABLE IN HER LOBE FOR FOOD AND IMMATURE BEHAVIOR UNTIL I FOUND OUT THEIR FTAHER AND DAUGHTER BACKSTORY IN THE MANGA AND VIOLENTLY SOBBED

Also Father son duos are a treat for me, but I love father daughter duos more on a personal level (Haha daddy issues go brrr xDD)

SNAKE THEMED CHARACTERS! I know that you know I love snakes Fran XD

Symbolism in character design, the backgrounds, abilities names, I’m a sucker for shows and medias that have me over analyzing everything I could in terms of a character as a whole as well as their Morality, Psyche, biology, etc. just any character or moment I can just daydream about breaking down to their rawest moments and just analyze it til there’s nothing left for me to analyze over

The protagonist has flaws, and genuinely doesn’t win everytime (Yes even though I love Yusaku I mean this whole heartedly) XD

Angst bait and whump bait characters ig XD, I want to fall in love with a tragic character and immediately start hunting down angst and whump about them or just make my own ximssjsm

Also characters that I just wanna coddle and adopt XDDD

Bratty or cocky characters, that have utter fear of god instilled into them or absolutely gets knocked down their pedestal and it’s EMBARRASSINGLY AGONIZING FOR THEM, I’m not a sadist I swear :D

Theirs probs more but I can’t think rn and it’s already at ten I think that’s enough XDD

Oh~ This is such an interesting list, and I am actually pretty sure that Bleach has almost all of these.

Yeah, that is pretty much of a given. Orihime wants to protect her friends, but something happens to her powers and she feels horrible about it, she has real flaws that any girl would have.

Espadas, Just the Espadas. More specifically, Ulquiorra Cifer and his Ressureccion looks like a genuine devil in Bleach.

WE HAVE THAT! WE HAVE KENPACHI ZARAKI AND YACHIRU KUSAJISHI! And it is actually so cute, because this menacing beast of a man that loves to fight to death,

has a tiny little girl on his shoulder, 24/7. And when he is angry, he just doesn't even think about harming her at all, he just thinks about the people he is about to fight.

4. If you count Isshin and Ichigo, then yeah, we have that. They are a perfect duo. Legit hilarious and Isshin actually loves his son and will protect him.

5. Yup! Cyan Sung-Sun

6. Yeah it does have that with pretty much every character in this show, even the jokey characters like Asano Keigo. There are hundreds of videos just talking about these characters.

7. Ichigo gets his ass kicked like every arc, at least. Not to mention, the internal battle that he has with his inner demon, both literally and narratively. This guy has more layers than an onion.

8. Pick one. You want angsty antagonist? Coyote Starrk. Angsty protag? Ichigo. Angsty female character? Rukia Kuchiki. Angsty side character? Uryu Ishida. It is filled with angsty characters.

9. Rukia, Yachiru, Yuzu, Karin, Nel, Toshiro, Momo, pretty much, anyone that won't kill you, but knowing you, you will adopt all of them.

10. Renji FUCKING Abarai, this boy is the most hilarious boy on the planet and I love him for that.

Soooo~ Interested?

[abitofafreudmoment]

HELLO IRL FRIEND OF NICO

i have noticed that you are into discworld and would like to hear more about it bc i am interested in reading it but am incapable of getting into anything unless it's been hyped up to me enough and you seem like you'd be willing to ramble lovingly about this series so uhh. favorite characters? what's it about? themes? fun tidbits?

(no pressure though and sorry if this is a weird way to introduce myself hi im luce)

lol no worries Luce! yes I'm very happy to ramble for you. (post-writing here, this is so all over the place sorry for like not sticking to one area but hey it's defos a loving ramble - kinda just talked about vague stuff, but I can 100% go into specifics).

So. . . where do I begin?

40 books in the series, he wrote right up until his death. NOT a continuous plotline through all 40. In fact, I recommend not starting with the first one (two actually)as it's not spectacular (that being said, it is still worth reading once you're in the series, good for the overall worldbuilding if memory serves). below is a sorta ok guide to how they connect - I have my issues with it but it's the best I've found.

I wouldn't recommend starting with Sourcery, but that's cuz Rincewind isn't my favorite character - I'd start with either equal rites or Lords and Ladies or Mort or The Truth or The Fifth Elephant or just wherever really as long as it isn't the Colour of Magic or the Light Fantastic.

A few crucial ordering things - READ THUD AND SNUFF (and ig Making Money and Going Postal) BEFORE RAISING STEAM. READ THIEF OF TIME BEFORE NIGHT WATCH. Those are the really imperative ones that you gotta order right, generally do it vaguely chronologically and yeah. Have at it.

The Hedgehog Song - this is a tidbit that shows up a lot in the Witches books as a very rude song that Nanny Ogg sings, BUT WE NEVER GET THE WORDS and I so want them.

Because it was written over 32 years, there are so many characters that just like slowly worm their way into it and I love watching a character turn from like a single footnote into a fully-fledged, important-to-the-plot character (I'm looking at YOU, Cassanunda)

SPEAKING OF FOOTNOTES OMG the books are riddled with them and. . . chef's kiss they add So Much to the series. They're so funny.

Pratchett is actually just like so funny as an author in general, but wittily so. Not saying he does pure comedy - he doesn't. Many a time have I cried over a Pratchett book. He's also great at taking stuff and . . . twisting it ig into something brilliantly new - Take, for instance, Maskerade, which is the Phantom of the Opera but Pratchettifyed (New word! yay! I'll be using it a lot I'm sure.). or like just what he does with Fairy Tales in general (Witches Abroad, Lords and Ladies sorta)

Also his MAGIC omg - soft magic system done right. I also love like the different approaches to magic that the witches and wizard have to it. Also how like the Creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions get [spoilers removed]

The gods man. Love them. They exist, they feed off of raw belief (Small Gods' premise is that people start believing in the institution formed around a god as opposed to the god itself and then that god like almost dies cuz no-one believes in him. (surprise surprise it's a commentary on the Church)) and they play games with the lives of men (the Last Hero). Love Granny Weatherwax's opinion on them which goes smthn like this: "No use believin' in 'em, it only serves to encourage 'em." <-- As a concept belief is not simply tied to the gods either. He does a lot of stuff about how what people believe to be true can affect how they perceive things around them.

THE FOOLS. Pratchett understood the tragedy of clowns and as such his fools are so insanely sad - the Fools' Guild is the least happy of all the guilds. I love them so much

Speaking of guilds: the Guild of Thieves. is a legit guild set up by Vetenarii to do crime to the socially acceptable level and no higher - I'm doing a bad job explaining it but it's ingenious.

Vetenarii is probably one of my favorite characters in the entire series. He, above all else, understands how humans work and he uses that skill to get people to do what he wants.

Pratchett does not pull the punches when it comes to messaging and such - very anti-war, anti-racism, anti-sexism etc. Also love what he does with People and how they can/can't be controlled (The human condition as a whole ig) - one of my fav quotes from the series is Vimes saying "They're scared. You can't expect much from people when they're scared."

My personal fav book is Monstrous Regiment, which is relatively standalone. Very good. Very "horrors of war"-y with a touch of the classic [redacted due to spoilers].

I could go on, but this post is getting very long so if I do continue I'll do it in another post.

TL;DR: Pratchett = FUCKING BRILLIANT

[lynxiepancakes]

meaningful character's deaths in the walking dead (?) spoiler ahead

btw as i'm rewatching twd i'm kind of noticing, or ig projecting?, that there are some characters whose death seems to mean more than just their death but the death of a specific value. i'll provide examples but it's probably just my interpretation LOL so don't take this too seriously

• Dale. Just before he dies we see him try his best to not get that guy (ide remember his name, didn't like it at all) killed, and his death to me felt like the death of Reason. Like straight up doing things in name of rationality and civilization. it was only after his death that rick and other characters changed their mind about killing that guy for the possibility he could be a threat.

• Lori. I didn't even like her character so much, but her value in the show was UNDENIABLE. With her died the role of the Mother as we knew it before everything happened and i think also the role of the "Perfect Wife" that she wanted to be prior to the arrive of the walkers.

• Andrea. Probably my least favourite character of the show ngl but she was also so interesting to analize and criticize. I think that with her died the role of the woman, intended as Femininity (because yes guys you'll discover that being one of the few women who could kill and be "useful" as a soldier doesn't mean she wasn't feminine /s) that could almost exclusively lean on other men, so toxic masculinity, to survive. she always leaned on others, especially the first villains of twd - shane, the governor - and even though she tried to redeem herself or whatever it was too late by then. After her i think we started having a more equal, or maybe more neutral, representation in how women are portrayed in the apocalypse compared to men - for better and for worse.

• Hershel. Guys with him I feel what died was straight up Wisdom. Like, "old man who has lived all a life in front of him" kind of wisdom. Ofc he had his flaws and made his mistakes but i think that's what made him a really memorable character whose death shocked us all. I think when he died i thought, "no other old person will be able to survive in this apocalypse/die of age" and it was a really sad thing.

• Glenn. One of the most shocking deaths ofc, whose meaning i think diluted with time compared to the start of the series but I still attributed to it the death of straight up Humanity. Like, as in kindness, as in doing things for others just for the sake of it, as in community. absolutely gut wrenching. Similar to his also T-Dog (i mean that i interpreted it the same way) but his death was less cruel for the mere fact that he was killed by walkers - Glenn was killed by a sadistic, cruel man.

• Carl. the death of Youth. we have literally grown with him, he has lived 10 years in the apocalypse - from childhood, to puberty, to adolescence, and eventually to becoming a young adult - and it was the most shocking of all deaths for me tbh. ofc i know that probably the reason why they killed him was related to that money thing etc but it didn't make it any less meaningful imo.

I'm sure there are some pretty other important deaths in the show but to me these felt like there was a "before and after" type of thing. Like you'll never see the show the same way after these.