#he just got fucked really hard by the wrong people

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right?

pt 2

"I just don't see how sitting around is gonna do anything!" Dash argues, face to face with Sam.

"Well, if you have other ideas you're more than welcome to offer them, but we can't just take out the giw. They have more manpower than us, more equipment, and the new agents actually seem to be competent in fights! And we are a bunch of high school students!"

They are all, ostensibly in English Class right now, but even Mr. lancer has forgone the illusion of normal classwork. He assigns books and hands out reading assignments every week, but nobody really cares whether they get turned in or not. The city, after all, has a much bigger problem.

"I don't know! But sitting here-"

"He's not entirely wrong, the longer we wait the more likely they figure it out, just like we all did." As Valerie finishes speaking, the room temperature drops noticeably, and the kids all glance nervously over at Danny who's head hasn't moved from it's spot on his desk. He almost seems dead with how still he is. Beside him Tucker stares at his PDA, the only one who hasn't reacted to the temperature change.

"Should I even ask what you're messing with?" Sam asks, walking over while the others stare nervously at Danny.

"Actually, yeah." Tucker easily shifts so they can both see the webpage displayed on the handmade tech. "I got something through."

"I thought getting stuff through wasn't really the problem?"

"I mean, yeah, they're letting Everything Is Normal posts through, but this wasn't. That. I was, um, kind of fucking around with ciphers and shit? Not saying anything relevant, but just seeing whether they'd flag any old weird shit, you know? And um. I got a video out."

"Okay, but how does that help us?" Valerie asks.

"It helps because if they let a cipher through then means if I encode shit well enough, then it'll also get through."

"But if it's, like, that hard to figure out what it says, then won't it be useless on the outside?"

"The chances of it getting into the hands of someone who could crack it do seem, uh, improbable."

"Not if we stack the deck."

"Wes-"

"No, listen, I know you're all still mad at me, but like. If you can attract a community of codebreakers? Then eventually someone will crack the code on what you need them to!"

"If you have an idea then just fucking say it, Wes," Sam snaps.

"Make an ARG. We can even have like, the base level be completely United to anything real, just make up a story about, i dunno, space travel? And then bury the actual info beneath that. Eventually somebody will crack into the real stuff, and if it's popular enough by then, and the GIW tries to suppress it? That'll be even more suspicious-looking, and just make them dig harder."

"What the fuck is a ARG?" Dash asks, pulling his gaze away from their definitely-just-sleeping classmate.

"Augmented reality game. It's like an unfiction thing. Make a story but the story is interactive and people have to decode shit to figure out what's going on." Tucker glances over to Wes. "And actually not a bad idea. If we all work together, we could probably make something cool."

"You could treat it as a class-wide project." Mr. Lancer says, making everyone jump. "That way I can back you up if anyone starts asking questions."

"Make it about black holes," Danny says, finally pulling himself up from his desk. "We can base it in wormhole theory, and distract the GIW with all the theoretical science."

"What, so like we make videos that seem like they're being sent through a black hole?"

"Fuckin. Sure, why not? As if shit couldn't get any weirder around here."

"Star, please try to refrain from swearing in front of me. I know the situation is - difficult - but I am officially still your teacher."

"Sorry, Lancer."

[justagalwhowrites]

Can't Stay Away - A QZ!Joel Miller Fic

Years after you turned to Joel for help getting out of a bad relationship, he can't seem to stop coming back to you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Angst (duh), Joel is a bit of an asshole (that's the point and it makes him even hotter, I fear), mention of past domestic violence (not described), injury from past domestic violence, threat of continued domestic violence. unprotected P in V sex, breeding kink, fantasizing about pregnancy (doesn't actually happen.) Minors DNI 18+ only, no use of Y/N.

Length: 4.1k

A/N: Shared for the Joel Miller Birthday Celebration found on Tumblr here. This is QZ!Joel with Secret Relationship and Breeding Kink. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | AO3

“Where the fuck else is there to go?” Tommy asked, shucking his mud-covered boots and leaving them in a pile by the door. 

“Just got business to take care of,” Joel said, voice rough. 

“It’s pourin’ rain, man,” his brother said, dropping his drenched pack to the table as if to make a point. “We didn’t even know we were makin’ it back tonight until fuckin’ tonight. Just stay home.” 

“Wanna get this done,” Joel said, taking his portion of their haul from his pack and piling it on the table. He left just one thing inside the pack. “Probably won’t be back ’til morning.” 

Tommy just pursed his lips, shaking his head a little. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid, Joel.” 

Joel didn’t say anything back. What did he have to say? 

Tommy had every reason to worry about him being stupid. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt their smuggling operation. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt himself. 

Which, he supposed, wasn’t particularly far off. 

You were, indeed, something stupid and something that would hurt him. 

You were his biggest indulgence and his biggest risk, the thing that was the largest threat to him here in the Boston QZ. 

Ex-wife of a FEDRA guard, Joel should avoid you. 

His work was dangerous enough as it was, he shouldn’t make it more dangerous by messing around that close to the people who could execute him if they really wanted, especially not with someone they seemed to take pleasure in tormenting.

But he couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It wasn’t that he loved you. Not that he’d ever really loved a woman - he’d tried with Sarah’s mom and was sure he’d come up short - but he knew he didn’t have it in him to love anything now. The aching wound of loss took up too much of him, there wasn’t space for anything else.

But he did care. Whether that was because he was attached to you as a person or because you made him come so hard he forgot the world ended for a moment, he didn’t know. 

He supposed the why didn’t matter. He cared. He cared enough that he couldn’t lose you without it adding to that wound, one that had damn near killed him and had seemed to have only grown worse with time. 

That should be enough of a reason to stay away from you. Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? That giving a shit only led to pain? That if he was going to keep surviving any of this, he had to be far, far away from something like you? 

Still, he made his way through the QZ, the pouring, cold rain fitting the grim environs. Everything here was slightly wrong. It looked something like a city from before but not. It appeared as though things could be normal, somewhere, except they weren’t. It seemed as though Joel had been tailor made for this place, this time. Living some kind of half life where everything was shades of gray, nothing left to live for but - apparently - not able to die. The last gasp of humanity left in him clinging to this world. 

That made you a shade of gray, too, one he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

It had started years earlier, when you were desperate and willing to trade sex for a gun. 

Joel hadn’t taken you up on the offer then, frowning as you watched him with wide, desperate eyes. 

“The hell do you need a gun for?” He’d asked. “If you don’t already got one, hard pressed to see someone like you startin’ in on a business that needed one.” 

“Does it matter?” You asked. “I’ll give you what ever you want, please.” 

“Matters to me,” Joel said. “Not about to arm someone looking to move in on my business.” 

“It’s not for that.” 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem tellin’ me what it is for,” he replied. 

You looked around, cagey, before lowering your voice further. As though talking about an illegal weapons trade wasn’t enough of a reason to keep quiet. 

“I’m leaving my husband,” you said, those wide, soft eyes watching him so closely. “He’s FEDRA and he’s made it clear that he won’t let me go without a fight. I need to be able to protect myself, please, I can give you ration cards as I earn them, I can… I’ll do anything else you might want, I…” 

“Stop,” Joel cut you off, tears starting at the edges of your eyes. He took his hand gun from its place tucked in the small of his back and passed it to you as discreetly as he could. “There, now you got somethin’. Meet me here tomorrow, same time, I’ll get you more ammo. Know how to use it?” 

“Don’t I just point it and pull the trigger?” You asked, brows raised. 

He just sighed. 

“Think you can keep from usin’ it until tomorrow?” He asked. You nodded quickly. “Good. I’ll show you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, stashing the weapon quickly. “What… what do I owe you?” 

The fear in your voice made his stomach turn.

“Nothin’,” Joel said. “Fine on ration cards at the moment. Don’t trade in the other shit. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.” 

 You just nodded quickly, thanking him with too much earnest hope in your voice for something being spoken to him.

Joel spent the afternoon the next day teaching you how to shoot as best he could inside the QZ. Turns out, the reason you didn’t already know how is that you’d been in Boston during the outbreak. You’d just moved there with your shitbag of a husband a few weeks before it all came crashing down. You’d never really needed to fight, let alone shoot or kill. You never needed a gun. 

Until your husband started hitting you. 

Joel learned quickly exactly why you felt like you needed to be armed. He’d put a hand on your ribs to adjust your stance and you hissed in pain. Joel pulled away quickly, frowning as you tried to hide your pained expression but it didn’t work. 

“You gonna tell me what that was?” He asked, brows raised. You clenched your jaw and stared at the ground. 

“It’s not your business.”

“I’m helpin’ you, your husband is a fucking FEDRA officer, if you’re about to haul off and kill him I should know why,” he said, voice heated. “So tell me, he do that?” 

Your eyes finally met his and he didn’t need to ask again. 

“Lemme see.” 

“Joel…” 

“Show me,” he said, voice sharp. 

You sighed and lifted your sweatshirt, revealing discolored and swollen skin along one side. 

Joel clenched his jaw. 

“It’s gotten worse,” you said quietly. “I can’t keep pretending it’ll be OK if we just get through this, I can’t pretend like he hasn’t been building toward this for years. I need to get out before he kills me.” 

Joel stepped back and you lowered your shirt, your eyes on his. 

“He bigger than you?” He asked. You nodded. “Alright, gonna teach you a few more things, too…” 

He showed you how to protect yourself without a gun and how to end a conflict with one. He hoped you wouldn’t need to use either. After a few days of showing you how to do the things he’d assumed just came with the territory of surviving the end of the world, you went your separate ways. 

But Joel still thought of you, an odd twinge in his chest when he did, something like concern. He wanted you to be OK. He couldn’t put his finger on why that would matter to him but he wanted that, he wanted you to be safe and happy. 

So when he ran into you on the street a few months later, he couldn’t help but ask. And you smiled at him, brighter than he’d ever seen you look, when you told him that you had your own place now, that the gun he’d given you had never been fired. It was hard, but you’d survived. 

The two of you went to the speakeasy and you bought Joel a drink, saying you owed him for helping you get out of your situation. He let you buy the first round. He bought the second. Before too long, he was in your apartment, pulling off your clothes and touching your body without you flinching away from him. 

You became like a drug to him then. Every few nights he found himself outside your door, desperate for the reprieve you and your sex gave him. Some sense of normalcy, the ability to feel something beyond the crushing weight of loss, that brief moment when he was buried inside you and reaching his peak that the rest of the world fell away and he existed on a plane where nothing bad had ever happened to him and he’d never done anything to deserve it. 

He tried to pretend like that release is all it was. But then there were moments where he couldn’t deny that it was more. The time where he passed you on the street and your eyes met his and he wanted to go talk to you, to see why your eyes seemed dark and sad, but there was a FEDRA guard watching you from the corner and he couldn’t risk it, not for either of you. The time he showed up at your door and heard yelling and he pretended to be a neighbor to intervene. All the times he held you as you fell asleep nestled against his skin, soft and beautiful and trusting, all things that should have been driven out of you in the QZ. All things you should never have been with him in the first place. 

He swallowed those moments, tried to not let the fear and panic they sparked inside of him take over. The last time he loved someone, they died. The last time he loved someone, it almost killed him. He couldn’t love you. He couldn’t risk it. 

But here he was, at your door again, anyway.

He tried to stop himself from knocking but all it did was make his hand stutter before he did what he always did: wait for you to let him in. 

“Joel?” You opened the door in an oversized t-shirt and boxers, looking groggy. “You’re back.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him inside, pressing your body against his, burying your face in the hollow of his throat and he let himself breathe you in, remind himself that you were safe. 

“I was so worried about you,” your voice was muffled in the wet fabric of his shirt. “I heard some things from people at the gate and…” 

“The gate?” He frowned, pulling back from you. “The hell were you doin’ down there?” 

You looked at him, your lower lip going between your teeth, fingers twisting on themselves. 

“What. Were you doin’. At the gate.” 

“I heard something at work,” you said quietly. “About a patrol getting overrun by infected and… I wanted to see if there were signs of other people getting hurt, I’m sorry, I couldn’t just sit here and wait for you and not know…” 

“You can’t do shit like that,” he said roughly. “It ain’t safe, your fuckin’ husband is always looking for a reason to make your life hell, he would have me and Tommy killed if he knew about us, you can’t just…” 

“I know.” 

“Then why’d you do it?” He smacked his hand against the tabletop, making you flinch, hating himself for scaring you even for a moment. “I know you fuckin’ know better!” 

“Because I care about you!” You yelled, your voice thick. “Is that such a crime?” 

Joel crumpled at that, shoulders slouching. 

“That’s…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That ain’t what this is, honey, you know that.” 

“I know,” you said again, voice soft. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Joel, I know better than that. I just… I’m not just going to pretend that you’re nothing to me. Life is too short for that.” 

His heart thudded against his ribs, so hard it felt like a bruise. 

“I can’t…” 

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “It’s OK. I know.” 

He should have turned to leave then, he was smart enough to know that. But your hand was soft on his skin, your body was warm next to his, your eyes were welcoming and understanding in a way that nothing else had been since he’d lost the only thing that mattered. 

So he kissed you.

It wasn’t something that was soft and romantic, nothing like what you deserved, nothing like how he would have kissed you if he’d known you before. Instead it was fierce, devouring, harsh enough that he knew his stubble must be scratching your skin and he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting more of you. 

You tugged him back toward your bedroom, Joel stepping out of his boots as he went. He dropped his pack on the floor and tugged your shirt up and over your head, casting it aside. He ran his hands over your bared skin, your flesh pebbled where the cold, wet of his shirt touched you. He pulled that off, too, before he could do anything that hurt you, even for a moment. Christ knew you had enough of that behind you, the look on your face when he’d lost control just a minute before already a scar in his mind, adding to the scars on your skin from your marriage he wished he could go back and stop. 

You undressed each other quickly, desperately, and he all but threw you on the bed once you were naked. He followed you there, shedding the last of his clothes before crawling up your body, his finger tracing your slit to spread you open just enough that he could get his thick, hard cock inside. 

He should be more careful with you, he knew that. But he didn’t have the patience and you’d never, even once, asked him to slow down or be gentle. So he pushed himself inside with one sharp, hard stroke, making you gasp and arch beneath him as he groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt. You whimpered as he stilled deep inside, adjusting to how you held him, fighting to keep from coming too quick because you felt too goddamn good but he couldn’t waste it, not this fast. 

“You’re OK,” he panted, his mouth against your shoulder. “You can take it, baby, know you can, take it so well.” 

He felt you nod against him, your hands trembling as they went to his back, holding him close. 

“Just take it,” he said as he started to fuck into you, caving to his baser instincts and letting himself have you the way you seemed so willing to give yourself to him. “Just take it, honey, just let me… let me…” 

Your hips rolled to meet his, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Feels so good, Joel,” you whined against him. “Fuck, I missed you, you feel, you feel, I…” 

He kissed you, swallowing your babbling before you had a chance to complete your thought. He couldn’t hear what he was afraid was coming, a line he couldn’t bring himself to cross. There was so much he couldn’t give to you, so much that he knew you deserved but was too selfish to give you up so you could find it. 

But fuck, did he wish he could give you that. In another time, another place, another reality entirely, he could. He knew that. In some other world, one where humanity wasn’t gone and his daughter was still breathing, he would give you everything. In that world, he would love you. He would open your car door and share inside jokes and care for you in a way no one else could. In that impossible world, you and him lived in a little house with a garden out front and a spare bedroom where Sarah stayed when she came for a visit because she would be an adult now, with a life of her own instead of forever frozen at 14. In that reality, you were his in every way. His ring was on your finger, his roof over your head, his baby in your womb. He wouldn’t need to hide it then, wouldn’t need to tiptoe around FEDRA, wouldn’t need to be afraid of what loving you might mean. He could fuck you until you were full of him, so full that you carried part of him inside of you for months, your body growing and changing with it and then no one would ever question that you were his, fucking his. 

Your pussy drew tight around him as your fingers wound tight in his hair. Your nipples were hard against his chest, the plush of your breasts pressed to his front as your thighs tightened around his hips. 

He pulled his mouth from yours to kiss and suck his way down your neck to your chest, pressing himself deep inside you and letting himself pretend - just for a moment - that the reality he occupied was one where he could have you, really have you. That the two of you were in a cozy bedroom with furniture he built for you with a room a few doors down that you’d already started looking at cribs and changing tables to fill it with. 

“Gonna come,” you panted, your hips stuttering against him as he pressed inside, forcing the head of his cock against the soft, tender place deep within you. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna… I… I…” 

He was so close to his peak that he almost wanted you to say it. He wanted you to say it while he came deep inside you, leaving himself there so it could take, so he could watch you grow his child and take care of you through it, so he could take care of both of you after. Claim you so thoroughly that when you were in the QZ there was no question that you were his, not with his baby inside you and his arm around your shoulders. 

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad that, in that moment with his cock buried inside you as you keened below him, he didn’t care if it fucking killed him. 

Joel came apart when you did, the fluttering of your tight little hole sending him over the edge, the high of nothing else in the world mattering outside of you and the hot clutch of your body swallowing him whole for one glorious moment. 

But, as always happened, he came back down to earth, still held in the cradle of your hips, still breathing the scent of your skin, still lost in the wasteland that was once the world. 

He didn’t kiss you as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed next to you, closing his eyes for a moment to keep from looking at you too long. 

“You gotta be more careful,” he said after a moment. 

You were silent long enough that he looked over at you, finding you on your side facing him but staring down at the mattress. 

“I know,” you said eventually. 

“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he said, his voice gentle. Or as gentle as he seemed to be able to make it now, anyway. “But you know what happened the last time he thought you were seein’ someone. If killing him would fix it, I would, but I can’t kill every fucking FEDRA guard who’d take it out on you and I’m not gonna be the reason you get hurt.” 

“I know,” you said again, looking at him this time. “But I… I just…” 

“I know,” he said it this time, his stomach twisting. 

You just nodded. 

“You deserve better,” he said eventually. “Shouldn’t let me treat you the way I do.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“You should,” he snapped and then sighed, staring at the ceiling again. “Sorry for scarin’ you before. When I hit the table. I… I would never…” 

“I know,” you said, more confidently then. He looked back to you, frowning. “I’m not afraid of you, Joel. I know better about that, too.” 

He was silent again, going back to staring at your water-stained ceiling. 

“Should probably take a break,” he said eventually. “Not see each other for a bit.” 

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you said quietly. He frowned, watching you again. “I know myself. I know how I feel. It’s OK. I don’t expect anything from you. Not even this.” 

His eyes searched yours and he let himself try to reach some other version of him on some other plane, one where things were safe and he was in the bed you shared with him in the home you made together. A version where he could be honest with you and it wouldn’t destroy him. 

“I’d give you more if I could,” he said instead. 

You smiled ever so slightly, a gentle curve to your lips. 

“I know,” you said softly. “Believe it or not, I know you, too, Joel.” 

He let himself look at you for a moment, let that terrifying wound at the center of him hurt where he could really feel it, to feel the horror of what letting himself love you would be. 

“It’s OK,” you whispered as you reached out and brushed his curls back, your fingertip grazing the scar at his temple. “I’ll just love you, anyway.” 

He stayed in your bed that night, lying awake as you slept against him, ignoring the scream of panic at the core of him to run while he still could. He knew it couldn’t last. He knew he couldn’t rest like this, not with you this close, not in this awful place with that awful hurt. But he couldn’t leave you either. Not like this. 

“Oh,” he said the next morning when it was still dark so he could slip back to his own apartment before some FEDRA prick was awake to see him leaving your place. “Almost forgot.” 

He pulled a scarf from his pack, the one thing he hadn’t left at home after this run. It was thick, the knit heavy, a color that made your eyes shine. Not that he had pictured you wearing it with those eyes of yours when he’d picked it up. He held it out to you and you frowned, confused, as you took it. 

“Winter is around the corner and you were cold all the time last year,” he said gruffly. “Don’t want you freezin’ to death.” 

You smiled a little, running your fingers over the pattern knit into the yarn. 

“Thank you,” you said, holding it to your chest and looking back to him. “I really needed this, Joel.” 

He just grunted, pulling his pack on and heading for the door. 

“I’m gonna stay away from you for a while,” he said, trying to ignore the pain in his chest at that. “Don’t want anyone catching on.” 

“OK,” you said, eyes searching his before you stepped close to him and slowly, cautiously, pressed your soft, warm lips to his own. “Take care of yourself for me, OK?” 

You said it like you would say I love you. 

“You, too,” he said. He wondered if it sounded the same to you, too. 

 Staying away from you took work. He wanted to see you, be next to you, get lost in you. But he knew where that would lead and he couldn’t let it, not now, not like this. 

So he stayed away for weeks. He stayed away until the first snowfall of the season in Boston and he made an excuse to go stand outside your job. He couldn’t help it. He needed to make sure you were warm and safe so he stood there and watched you leave, his scarf around your neck, You caught his eye with a small smile as you passed a FEDRA guard and he knew, with sinking certainty, he’d be back at your door that night. 

He just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

[peachyfnaf]

I'm sorry but "MY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS WITH A DISORDER<3" really made my day and I needed you to know

🤣🤣🤣

I can't believe Nexus is bullying peepaw war criminal.

Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?

(Please talk about baby cringe Lord Nexus, I want to hear about your blorbo 🙏)

That's because Nexus IS my beautiful princess with a disorder, I'll have you know <3 they're diseased but it's okay I can give them their tetanus and flu shots and it'll all be better I GOT THIS

But. ahem, okay, blorbo yapping time. I'm not even gonna say "I'll try to keep this short" because I know it wont end up that way HAHAHAHAHA

"Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?"

I... have absolutely no idea!!!1! (and also it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize peepaw war criminal was Ruin KJDFHSDF)

The most frustrating thing about canon Nexus is how his morals, motivations, and goals seem to see-saw back and forth all the time. at first, he became how he is now due to Solar's death. he spiraled in his grief, identity-issues, and abandonment. but... now his motivation is to become an all powerful god??? while it's most likely that NSP is at play and affecting his thought process, it's... well, it's really hard to take him seriously as a villain because of it, lol. for an audience to enjoy, and even sympathize in some cases, with a villain, their goals and motivations have to be concrete. they have to be relatable, or at least understandable, but Nexus' whole thing is... not, Imho. and I know I'm not the only person who feels this way!!!

I see a lot of people calling Nexus "cringe", and the thing is, when it comes to canon Nexus, they're not really... wrong??? The worst thing Nexus has done so far is make Old Moon see his past victims, which is fucked up of him to do, but.. so far, that's kind of it??? other than that, his "villainy" consists of saying empty threats and cheesy evil one-liners. hell, he was supposed to kidnap Sun yesterday but instead spent the whole episode yapping and venting to him, chasing Sun around in the worlds darkest game of tag before getting some lead right in the face dkfjhsdfsd

Also, notice how he's only targeted Old Moon when it comes to actual physical violence? not Lunar, Earth, Solar, or Sun, but Old Moon? yeah, I did too. we already know that Nexus does everything because he's lashing out, but as of rn the only target he's gotten his hands on physically being O.M...? well. I think it says a lot. cause' yeah, he sure as shit scared the life out of the other Celestials, but he's never put his hands on them!! the only other one of them he harmed physically was Earth- and not only was he not aiming for her, she was just in the way- he felt immediate regret for his actions once in space, and has yet to even see Earth ever since that day.

So, I really have no idea if he's going to be "redeemed" or not. one second he's showing signs he might be, and the next he's falling further down the "pretty badly written villain" rabbit-hole. if he does get something akin to a redemption arc, he'll prolly mostly be accepted in the eyes of the viewers, considering a lot of peeps sympathize or at least understand where he's coming from, but I seriously doubt the other Celestials would take him back. the only one's who might see him as family/a close friend again are Sun and Solar, but even then, nothing would ever be the same.

I hope he gets redeemed, or at least freed from the hold Dark Sun has on him and he's able to live his own life, I really do. at his core, Nexus is a good person. a good person who was crushed under the weight of the shadow of the man he was born under. and we know this because he used to be New Moon. sweet, dorky New Moon.

New Moon, who made inventions like sentient knives and whoopee cushions. New Moon, who had matching My Little Pony stickers with his best friend. New Moon, who bought a whole ass island-luxury-house for Sun because he wanted to make him feel better and give him the proper space to heal. and New Moon- the poor freshly-baked A.I who gave his all to make sure he could do everything that Old Moon could, but it just wasn't enough. he tried and tried and tried, but it wasn't enough.

So yeah, idk if he's getting one in canon, but to me, he more than deserves a good ending, for the life he was given. let him be at peace.

[sanderssideswriting]

Yeah the ts crit community really is mostly on tumblr. If any crit on twitter is brave enough to call out thomas or even just ask a SIMPLE INNOCUOUS question like ‘hey whens the next sanders sides coming out’ they get dog-piled by his followers. Just now my twitter tl algorithm made some posts pop up from ppl I don’t even follow and they’re just defending thomas + his patreon and saying that we’re just angry jealous ppl who don’t understand what goes on behind the scenes for him (as if THEY do?).

I swear, the die-hard fans that are still left, I’m sorry, they’re not a fandom. They’re a cult. A cult of personality centered around one man, purely there to keep stroking and defending his fragile ego. They’re no better than the sw*fties or any other group of ppl driven by blind devotion, obsession and white knighthood.

Oh 100%, there's next to no ts crit community on twitter, I got curious and checked a few days ago, searching stuff like Thomas Sanders Critisism, TSS Criticism, TSS critical, stuff that's used over here and the only thing that got anything was the first, but then it was just showing stuff with "Thomas Sanders" or even just "Sanders" in the post. So it's hard to organize that kind of community, plus the die hards and Thomas being on there.

I'd say the only place the fandom is pretty active is on Twitter, and that's soley because of Thomas, because he interacts with the fans and makes it so that there's motivation to make tss stuff. You know there's a community on there for it and if you're lucky Thomas will see it and retweet it. Otherwise it's kind of a joke that the fandom is dead until it's breifly revived whenever a new episode comes out. Which then leads to parasocial relationships and the idea that somehow continues to persist that Thomas is a poor boy who can do no wrong and if he did do wrong he didn't actually know any better. Never mind he's thirty-fucking-4. And his fans are half his age.

One this I do kinda disagree with is the idea that all his die hards and current fans are like 14, which I just don't think is true, I think they were like 14 when the last proper episode came out, and are now more along the lines of like 18 or around there. He's got a lot of patrons, including 17 people who paying $125 a month, that money has to come from somewhere and I doubt it's all from allowances.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

*Preview* Still Untitled (Gojo Satoru oneshot)

Hi. I've still been working on this super self-indulgent thing and I still love it and I realized it's partially because I wanted it to have a healthy relationship with them learning and growing together. People aren't perfect. And this story is meant to showcase that just a tiny bit. Still don't have a title 🙃 and still don't know if I'll finish it, but here's another lil preview! I might post a lil bit of the story that I've been drafting based off The Vow at some point, too... 🤔

Kiko’s Masterlist

Frustration oozed from her pores as she shoved the front door closed and slipped her shoes off. A shitty day at work had been accompanied by shitty luck on the way home.

She’d wanted to stop and get some of the sweets Satoru loved so much as an apology for yelling and accusing him that morning, but she’d been held up at work, and the shop had been closed by the time she was finally able to leave. Just her luck. She just hoped his favorite takeout was enough to make up for the lack of treats. 

Grumbling to herself, she froze at the sight of Satoru watching her cautiously from the couch.

“Hi,” Rinko greeted awkwardly, inwardly cringing when he just raised his eyebrows. “Did you– how was your day?”

“Bit of a rough start,” he began drily, shrugging. “Was fine after that. Got some grading done. Yours?”

“Same,” she replied, gnawing on her bottom lip.

I’m sorry for acting like a deranged bitch this morning and accusing you of throwing my work ID away when I was actually just too stupid to check all the pockets of my bag.

She just needed to spit it out.

I’m sorry for yelling at you–

Instead, she held the bag of takeout up for him to see.

“I got dinner on the way home,” she informed him lamely, and he nodded, pushing himself to his feet.

“I’ll grab plates.” He kissed her cheek lightly as he walked past, the guilt in her stomach growing at the gesture of affection. “Thanks, baby.”

Spit it out.

They ate in silence, her gut churning with every moment that passed between them while they sat on either side of the table.

When they finished, she shoved herself to her feet, feeling antsy as she retrieved their plates and fled to the kitchen.

She’d waited too long now. She should have just apologized as soon as she got home. It wasn’t that hard. Why was she struggling so much? Why was it so difficult for her to just admit she’d been wrong? What if this was the final straw after he’d said that they needed to work on things? What if–?

“I can do the dishes since you got dinner.” Satoru’s voice jolted her from her thoughts, and she jumped.

“No, I’ve got it,” she replied, turning the water on hastily as she blinked against the tears that had formed in her eyes. “Just got distracted.”

Why was she crying when she’d been the one wrong? It was selfish of her to cry when he was the one who should be upset. If she kept stalling, then he really would realize that he shouldn’t have even bothered trying to fix things when they weren’t working. That he really should have just broken up with her instead of wasting his time.

“I’ve got these,” she repeated, fighting to keep her voice even. She would apologize once she’d gotten a hold of herself so he didn’t think she was trying to make him feel bad. “It’s the weekend, so you should–”

“You worked today,” he argued gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s not a big deal. I can–”

“I’ll do it!” Rinko snapped defensively, her voice cracking as another wave of guilt slammed into her. Panic settled in her chest, and her jaw trembled under the weight of his stunned silence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have– fuck. Satoru, I’m sorry. Please don’t–” please don’t give up on me.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other turning the faucet off before pulling her away from the sink.

“Take deep breaths,” he urged. “I’m right here.”

Shaking her head, she bit back the pathetic sob that almost broke free. She’d fucked up. She didn’t deserve him comforting her after lashing out at him twice. At this point, she couldn’t blame him if he decided she wasn’t worth it anymore.

“Rinko, you gotta breathe,” he reminded her calmly. “I’m here.”

I don’t deserve for you to be here.

“Doesn’t fuckin matter what you think you deserve,” he stated firmly. “S’not how this works, sweetheart.”

“How–”

Her voice caught in her throat, the lump forming stopping the words before she even knew what she was trying to say.

“Breathe first.” Satoru took a deep breath, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against her back somehow anchoring her own shallow gasps. “That’s it.”

Blinking quickly again, she sucked in a deep breath before finally blurting the words out around her hiccups.

“I’m so-sor-ry for blam-ing you this mm-morning.” 

“I know you are, baby,” he replied, almost sounding amused. “I forgive you.”

“And I’m sorry for yelling. And for snapping at you. And–”

“I forgive you, Rinko-chan,” he repeated, nudging his nose against her cheek. “Thank you for apologizing.”

“I shouldn’t have accused you of throwing my ID away,” she continued, shrinking in on herself. “And I shouldn’t have snapped at you, either.”

“No,” he hummed in agreement. “But you did. You were panicking. Doesn’t make it okay, but I probably would’ve too, so I understand.”

“But–”

“I love you,” he cut her off, squeezing her tighter. “I’m not gonna stop loving you just because you snapped when you were upset.” 

She squirmed, and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“S’where you tell me you love me too, ya know,” he pouted. “No pressure or anything–”

“I do love you,” she whispered, her throat tight again as tears slid down her cheeks. “Satoru, I’m so sorry–”

“Already forgiven,” he reminded gently. “Quit beating yourself up, baby. It happens. We both get upset sometimes. Thank you for apologizing and for getting dinner on the way home.”

“I should’ve just apologized when I got home,” she admitted, sniffling. “I’m sorry I didn’t. But I– thank you for–”

“I was giving you space earlier because I didn’t wanna make you feel worse or like I was pressuring you, but I forgot that’s not how you think,” he murmured. “I like space, but that doesn’t help you. Giving you space just gives your brain time to overthink things.”

Her mouth pulled down into a grimace, and he chuckled.

“We know each other pretty well by now, yeah?” he teased. “We’re okay, Rinko-chan. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Closing her eyes, she nodded and leaned into him.

“Go sit down,” he ordered, releasing her and pushing her out of the kitchen. “I’ve got the dishes– uh-uh,” he swatted her ass lightly when she went to protest, “go sit your cute little ass down and keep my spot warm for me while I do the dishes.”

She loved this man with her entire heart.

[thebrightestbling]

I know this is a very unpopular opinion but the only difference between Law, Corazon and Doflamingo is the fact that Doflamingo wasn't lucky enough to be saved. Sengoku saved Corazon, Corazon saved Law while Doflamingo was turned into a machine by Trebol and the others (not to mention the fact that he was raised in Marie Jois, which teaches you all the wrong things about Life).

We are also a product of our surroundings, not just genetics.

I personally feel for Doflamingo because the Anime shows that he does have empathy. He had empathy for Law and his backstory, he cares about his family and I truly believe he loved his brother a lot.

I also truly believe that Corazon never wanted to kill his brother.

Please, Oda, for the love of god, give our Heavenly Demon a chance to have some sort of redemption arc.

[lady-raziel]

hilarious that with each new day that passes a new bit of dirt from JD Vance's past gets discovered and plastered over the internet...it's almost as if this is why presidential campaigns have always announced their running mates well before the convention...so that if glaring issues with a candidate came to light quickly there would be time to replace them on the ticket before they were officially locked in...it's almost as if certain things in political campaigns were done for a reason, donald...because the very same critical failures had happened before...but no i'm sure you and your guys attempt to recreate a fantasy version of history while ignoring all the reasons that history was a disaster will work this time...because you are built different and the 10000th time trying fascism will work like a charm...

[talentforlying]

priest: i don't, ah, quite know what to say to you. if you are in such terrible danger, why are you taking it all so calmly? constantine: hmh! i dunno, father. i had a bloke beaten to a pulp earlier this evening. that sound calm to you? priest: you did what...? constantine: i must've been off me bleedin' rocker. i've never done anything like it before in me life, y'know?

constantine: but there's header gets his guts blown out, and george is stickin' his head in the noose, and helen gets ... jesus, then friggin' sarah bites me head off — ! everything's coming to bits in me hands and it's so easy to just see red and now, shit, they could've killed the tosser for all i know! and now i'm just like the bastards i've hated all me life! kill him! fire him! close them down! piss all over him! screw you, i can do whatever i want! i so much as blink and you're dead, pal! i'm in charge!! ...

constantine: 'scuse me, father. i'm always like this when i don't get me own way. — hellblazer #81, "rake at the gates of hell pt. 4"

babygirl you are just....so, sooooo offputting. (and grieving, and guilty, and terrified, but yeah: offputting.)

anyway, it's issues like this one that remind me why i kind of hesitate over some of the retcons in the recent spurrier runs, like the one with him now having opened dream's pouch of sand and stolen some before they even met. because like, it's easy enough to look at john constantine now — with 70 years of worst possible choices and unresolved trauma crystallizing underneath his skin to cover up all the soft, hopeful bits where he's used to getting hit — and assign him arbiter of ill intentions, magus of wasted potential, saint of shit choices, but man . . . he was new to this, once. he was still new to this 80 issues in.

80 issues in, and he's not used to losing friends yet; he even has time enough between catastrophes to grieve each individual one. still has enough left to live for at this stage to necessitate running and hiding, instead of bodily throwing himself at the problem like he learns to later, or sitting apathetically by to do nothing except smoke and watch the world fall apart when he finally gives up. fuck, he still apologizes.

and you're telling me this guy, this soppy wet cat motherfucker hiding from the devil in a church basement, so guilty over not knowing what happened to the guy that he paid people (paid chas, so chas could pay people) to attack that the bottle he's holding in this scene isn't even his second or third........this guy's past, more innocent self lied right to the face of DREAM OF THE ENDLESS and got away with it?

hm. i just don't know about all that.

[delicatetaysversion]

spending my whole life trying and trying and trying and trying to be good enough for people who don't give a fuck about me

[zincbotted]

bnha class 1-a randomly generated quirkswap au blurbs

(also in this au mineta is replaced by shinso)

Yuga Aoyama - Acid

He sparkles and shines, too bad he accidentally sprays acid everywhere with his grand gesturing. He just wants to be famous! Why does he have to have such a gross quirk?

Mina Ashido - Navel Laser

Her pink skin, hair, and horns were all very eye-catching, but most eye-catching of all is her ability to shoot a bright powerful laser from her bellybutton. Only for a second though or she gets massive cramps.

Tsuyu Asui- Zero Gravity

She accidentally floats herself a lot, so holds her arms out from her body to prevent this from happening. She loves the water, but swimming through the air is almost as good.

Tenya Iida - Brainwashing

Despite not having his family's prized quirk, he's resolved to prove that he can still become a hero and uphold their legacy. He makes a point to be as honest and straightforward as possible to make up for his more sinister quirk.

Ochako Ururaka - Frog

She comes from a poor mutant family that had to face a lot of discrimination. She's going to use her frog-like powers to become a successful hero that makes lots of money to support them.

Mashirao Ojiro - Explosion

He's a pretty normal teenager, and teenagers sweat a lot. Unfortunately his sweat is explosive nitroglycerin. With a lot of training, he makes it work for him.

Denki Kaminari - Creation

He can make anything if he knows its composition! Unfortunately he's... really bad at memorizing what different things are made of. Mostly he just makes useless junk.

Eijiro Kirishima - Dark Shadow

He's a friendly and manly guy! His sentient quirk, not so much. The shadow version of himself that emerges from his body in the darkness is a terrifying quirk, but if anyone can wrangle it, he can!

Koji Koda - Earphone Jack

He's a quiet gentle guy with a tough rocky exterior. He hears everything though, with his sound-boosting quirk. And he can get Real loud when he wants to be.

Rikido Sato - One For All

He grew up quirkless, and with no great ambition other than to be kind. He gave his food to a skeletal man he met on the beach one day. They became friends, and eventually, the man revealed he was truly All Might, the number one hero. He was chosen as his successor, and now he had a motivation, to do as much good as possible by becoming the next symbol of peace. Through kindness, anything is possible.

Mezo Shoji - Invisibility

He always wears a mask. Not that it covers anything up. He's tall, buff, and completely invisible.

Kyoka Jiro - Anivoice

She's a punk-rock music lover. Unfortunately, animals can understand her, and most of the time they don't agree with her style. If you need an angry swarm of any creature that might be nearby, she's your hero.

Hanta Sero - Half Cold Half Hot

He has one of the world's most powerful quirks by total luck. Too bad he just wants to chill out and have fun.

Fumikage Tokoyami - Hardening

He has an unrelated mutation giving him feathers and a beak. His quirk allows him to turn those features to steel by hardening them to an incredibly sturdy substance.

Shoto Todoroki - Tape

The pro hero Endeavor was trying to create the perfect successor. And sometimes, a kid with a perfect split of white and red hair develops a totally unique quirk through a strange mutation. He can create tape. And shoot it from his elbows.

Toru Hakagure - Dupliarms

She's a totally normal girl! With six arms. That she can grow extra body parts on. She just wishes there was a cute guy out there with a thing for weird arms.

Katsuki Bakugou - Tail

He's determined to be the greatest. He may be pretty normal aside from a powerful prehensile tail, but that thing is a constant lashing force of destruction under the force of his rage.

Izuku Midoriya - Sugar Rush

When he was a kid, eating sugar would make him absolutely bonkers. His mother cut it out of his diet, but turns out his quirk transforms sugar into the motherlode of all rushes, granting him superhuman speed and strength. Only, afterwards, his body totally gives out.

Hitoshi Shinso - Engine

He's got engines in his legs. He's a speedster but never really figured out how to use his quirk for combat, so didn't manage to make it into the hero course. He wants to prove himself though, and worked hard for this transfer.

Momo Yaoyorozu - Electrification

She is a top-level student, her intellect is her pride. Unfortunately, if she uses her quirk too much, that prized intelligence is shocked away to nothing as her IQ drops tremendously until she recovers.

[x-crowmancer-x]

then they Morbed all over each other. the end.

[beesorcery]

google how do i tell my dad that the reason i keep bringing up elon musk's transphobia isn't that i've got gen z political tunnel vision that makes me blind to his "innovation" in electric cars but because i am desperately crying out for you as the father of a trans child to feel just as outraged and angry as i am that that man has so much power

[baishouqijia]

i am desperately trying to be more active but i'm experiencing mental burnout. just want to say thank you for the interactions even when i'm only checking in here now and again - i'll respond when i'm feeling better! <3

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i still can't get over my roommate implying i was autistic and my friend pulling out her phone to show me the "i'm like if a beautiful woman was an autistic little boy" meme that she'd been saving for the occasion someone acknowledged it

[lord-squiggletits]

You know, I think my thing about liking “asshole Megatron” more than “good Megatron” (speaking in terms of IDW1) isn’t just the fact that I find evil Megatron more entertaining and sexy, but that I suppose I don’t like the way good guy/Autobot Megatron’s personality is?

Like mmmm I’m not trying to be one of those people who goes “he’s OOC!” or “he’s such a wimp!” or “he’s evil and doesn’t deserve to be redeemed,” but there was just something slightly grating about the way Megatron is/acts in MTMTE/LL. If I had to pick a word for it, he just seems very... self-pitying? Ratchet said it perfectly while the DJD were attacking and he told Megatron “Oh of course it’s all about you, what a surprise.”

There’s something about Autobot Megatron that makes me hate him as a person, not like in a “haha what a pathetic bastard” way the way I see villain Megatron, but in a way that’s like “god you are so fucking stuck up and annoying” in a non-enjoyable way. Maybe it’s because Autobot Megatron was a last minute plot change and I’m sensing how JRO “forced” Megatron to be part of the narrative last minute? But that would just be a matter of shoddy writing, and MTMTE/LL aren’t shoddily written.

It’s presumptuous to try and assume the motivation of an author, but I guess it kind of feels like JRO was trying so hard to make Megatron a better person that it backfired and made him more unlikeable in my eyes. Like, Megatron’s dialogue about how if he goes back towards violence he’ll never come back out again because the guilt will be too much is poetic yeah, it’s a very cute notion, but the context is that the fucking DJD (who Megatron made) is attacking and killing members of the Lost Light (who Megatron is in charge of) and was it supposed to make me think of Megatron as noble or pitiable or something? Because instead it just pissed me off and made me want to scream “this isn’t fucking about you Megatron, stop being an angsty mope and DO SOMETHING GOOD FOR ONCE instead of crying about how hard it is for you to not enjoy killing people.”

It’s fucking weird because I of course love the concept of redeemable Megatron, and I’m fascinated with the way in which he adopted violence as a coping mechanism for trauma, but the way he’s written in MTMTE/LL just makes him seem more like he’s a self-justifying asshole trying to make pitiable attempts at good deeds than like he’s actually improving as a person. Which of course is a problem caused by the fact that JRO shoved him into the plot last minute and it didn’t actually make sense for Megatron to be on the Lost Light.

[elytrafemme]

diversity win! your favorite system host has been made a SINGLET❗️❓ because she was TOO insufferable for the masses 😱 of angry EPs and dollar store protectors 👀