#it's so hard to BE a good person when you are trapped in a cycle of violence

[valodia]

. (long tags)

[watchmakermori]

every single episode of attack on titan season 4 is basically saying in bright flashing neon letters ‘do not demonise people who seem different to you. you are the same in all the ways that matter. painting others as evil only leads to senseless violence, which causes more violence in turn until you are trapped in an endless cycle of it’ and yet somehow all the crunchyroll comments are full of people like ‘eren did nothing wrong’ ‘i hope someone kills gabi’ ‘marleyans deserve to die because they struck first’ like oh my godd oh my god oh my fucking god. did the wind part your hair when the point sailed over your head

[myheartxmyman]

Right now I feel so old and sad at the same time. Those feelings are so strong I feel paralyzed and slow.

[technoturian]

Regardless of my feelings about the BoS as a whole in the Fallout series, Maximus as a character exceeded all my expectations.

Maximus, honestly, to me, was the most nuanced and best acted character in the series. His situations were fantastical and yet the way he reacted to it all was so grounded. He was like a prestige drama character in a series full of cartoons. Don't get me wrong, I like the cartoons. Fallout leans heavily into parody and it's totally on brand. But Maximus' entire emotional arc was so understated and I really appreciated it.

He isn't a very vocal OR excessively emotive character because he knows being vulnerable hurts him. He shapes himself to that idealized memory of the knight in the armor even as he doesn't seem to really understand or care for the beliefs behind the armor. He's failing his classes as an aspirant. When talking of the BoS beliefs, he throws in a "or whatever". That part of it doesn't matter to him. The armor IS his belief system.

His whole story is about the cycle of violence and toxicity. The bullies who beat him. The abuse he endures. He wants power so that he can escape it but once he gets that chance he's doomed to perpetuate it, because that power is coming from the system. It's tainted. Deep down he doesn't want revenge, he doesn't even want power for power's sake, he wants safety. And he wants to be the hero from his memory, he wants the strength to save himself from this cycle.

And yet, he just keeps making he wrong choices. Over and over and over. He can't get out of it.

And then Lucy throws him a lifeline. And it takes someone from outside of the cycle to break through. And then he makes the choice to do the right thing even though it means making himself weaker, making himself less safe. He chooses to do the right thing for the first time in the show. And it means finally letting go of his dream, the armor.

And he sees a light at the end of the tunnel. He thinks his reward is going to be Vault 33, he's going to be safe and happy with someone who cares about him and makes him feel like a real, good person.

And by the end of the series, he's trapped in the cycle again.

There is just something so delicious about someone getting everything they wanted at the start and being miserable about it. There's something so REAL about wanting to be something but every instinct makes you sabotage yourself every step of the way.

And the thing is, he had all of these little moments of genuineness, selfishness, pettiness, virtue, I genuinely didn't know what he was going to do for most of the show. I thought he might turn on Lucy at some point. I honestly, truly thought he had sabotaged Dane even though Dane was his only friend. He is so morally hard to pin down because he's so full of life's little hypocrisies. His ideals and his feelings are in conflict so much and he doesn't have to look anguished for you to understand that. You just see it in his resigned stares, in his hesitance and his ultimate actions.

I just... I really loved Maximus. Bravo to Aaron Moten.

[anadiasmount]

tainted memories - jude bellingham.

wow wow okay hi!! sorry for the break i took. i began uni again after my holiday so i haven’t been as active on here. but i received this request for jude, and decided to try it out. please leave some feedback as us writers appreciate it a lot 🤍🧟‍♀️

summary: breaking up wasn’t apart of the plan. so was also inviting him to your friends party, but now that he’s back after seven months, a little rekindle never hurts anyone, right?

angst? smut and fluff. minors dni! 🔞

wc: 3.6k

“need any help?” you turned slowly to be faced with those soft brown eyes. his plump lips drew in as he peeked his head through the door. you shook your head and got back to washing the dishes. “you going to continue ignoring me?” he said causing you to begin breathing quicker than before, after feeling his presence come behind you. 

you were in charge of one of your girlfriends all -white all-white-themed surprise party, in honor of her birthday. this meant you’d see jude after breaking up over 7 months ago, since your friends were friends with his. while seeing familiar faces made you happy, you couldn't help but feel sad all over again. jude and you ended on good terms, so he thought, after he stressed he wanted to focus on his last months at dortmund and start with his new team in madrid. 

you didn’t want to split, rather try and make your relationship work and get through the obstacles you were bound to face together. you physically and mentally weren't prepared to let him go, he was your person, the person who never failed to make you feel like the luckiest girl. you were his, but instead, you let him go, and respected what he asked.

you began a new cycle all over again, from having that hard shell that protected you to being his girlfriend, then back to being that old person you were building your walls up again. people came and went in your life, its what you were used to, and you thought with jude it was different… he made you feel different, in many positive aspects, always supportive, loving, caring, and soft with you. 

maybe you pushed him away? maybe you gave him a reason to leave? maybe you weren’t enough for him? 

jude being jude still tried to keep contact, he would text, sometimes call, but you knew deep inside you wouldnt be able to move on if he was still present. it hurt because he wasn’t yours anymore, you still loved him, after months being apart, he still brought that spark inside you to burst. it was his effect burned inside you. 

the familiar perfume and scent blinded your senses, when you felt two arms trap you from behind, two hands on the edge of the counter. “you haven’t said a single word to me y/n…” you shuddered as he whispered in your ear, his nose tracing your jaw down to the nape of your neck. “say something, please…” the pleading in his voice broke your heart. you dried your hands and turned around. 

his face centimeters apart from yours, where you could see his brows fluttering in and eyes darker than usual. “excuse me,” you tried to move out of the way but he refused, “no. did i say or do something? you don’t answer my calls? my messages? tell me why.” you opened your mouth to speak but instead you shook your head again, attempting to move out the way, you still had the responsibility of the party, that was your priority right now. 

“y/n-”

“no. you don’t get to do that. you said you wanted your space, and i’m respecting that. i don’t have to give you reasons as to why i’m not speaking with you, jude. what we had was said and done, you wanted to focus on yourself and that's great- “

“y/n? are you done with the dishes were waiting on you to surprise emmy,” one of your friends said, becoming slightly awkward at the room with your ex. she sensed the high tension so she quickly went back outside. jude’s hand wrapped around your wrist, your attention back on him, “we're talking later. we ended on good terms and i plan for them to remain that way,” jude insisted, to which you only nodded your head. 

he was confused. for once in his life he was confused that you were such a stranger around him. the girl that stayed up with him while he reminisced and spoke of his early days at birmingham, the one and only girl his mum loved and adored, his girl who made his favorite dish after a bad game, the girl who smiled only around him, the only girl who never failed to bring and feel butterflies in him, the one girl who defended him always, and that girl who made him into a bigger and better person. that girl, his girl, wasn’t there anymore. 

maybe he lost you for good? maybe you didn’t love him anymore? maybe you were seeing someone? no, you were his, only his. 

the night was successful, the surprise went to plan, and everyone was having a good time. although you were still stuck from earlier, trying to do anything to distract your thoughts from him, whether it was picking up cups, heating up food, talking with your girls especially, and drink the special cocktail you loved dearly. your eyes trailed over to him again, where you locked eye contact for the hundredth time that night. he looked good, way too good, twenty was treating him right. 

“you and jude keep ogling? something going on?” you friend asked, catching onto the lingering glances. she took a sip of her red cup, “nothing really. he wants to talk but i don't know if i’m ready for that. i knew he would be coming, but i wasn’t prepared to see him like that. what if he tells me he found someone else? or that-” you panic rubbing your forehead with your palm. 

“first breathe, i’m here with you. as much as it may hurt or feel slightly uncomfortable, it's the closure you may need to move on. but what if he wants to talk with you to rekindle again? do you think you would be open to that? and if he says he’s someone else, show him what he will miss on. you're beautiful y/n, and he was lucky to have you once in his life, just don’t let him bring you down again…” 

she was right. if he did move on, that wasn’t your place to meddle, you’d have to let him go and be happy for him. but if he did want to consider getting back together, why now? why now when he’s living his best life in madrid? why now after saying he wanted to focus on himself? why now when you’re trying to avoid those soft brown eyes who once brought happiness to you, still do…

“just think about it yeah? right now lets dance, distract yourself from him and the world,” she yelled as soon as krazy by pitbul begin to play. you laughed and danced with your girls, letting loose and for once not caring for what anyone said or did. you threw back two shots, knowing they weren’t going to do anything as you weren't a lightweight. 

as the night came to an end, mostly everyone had left, besides him. you said your goodbyes to your friends, offering them leftovers of food and cake, making sure to wish them a be careful, and promising to hang out soon. you sighed tiredly closing the front door, looking over at the big couch that drew you in to sit down on. jude appears, but all you do is stare at your hands, tracing the small tattoos you have to get rid of the anxiety beginning to build up.

“i want to apologize, you were right. i did say i wanted to focus on myself but i was stupid thinking it would’ve still meant us talking like we always did. part of me never wanted to let go of you, and still doesn’t. i thought that i was doing the right thing but in the end i learned the hard way that not only was i hurting myself but you along…” jude says, watching as your head slowly lifts up, your cheeks burning red.

“while it was hard on me, my mind always traced back to you. how your eyes filled with confusion and tears when i broke up with you. i get why you didn’t want anything to do with me, but believe me it was harder to not hear or see you on the daily. please don’t blame yourself for one bit, or think you aren’t enough because you’re more than perfect than what i could’ve asked for…”

“i needed to get away from you, but it's hard doing that when your ex-boyfriend is the talk of the town,” you joke hearing him let out a small chuckle. “i wanted to so badly respond to hear your voice, how you were doing, talk about our silly work problems but i knew if that i continued to hold onto the hope one day you’d come back, it would hurt more than loving you every day,” you said.

“i was confused yeah, but i needed to think on the brighter side that you were doing this for yourself and not for any other reason. I just wanted the best for you and i thought that distancing myself was the best idea… i still love you so much jude, and this, us, hurts. i’m not yours, and i can’t call you mine anymore, i can’t hold or kiss you, love you like i did…” you continued. 

“when i heard you weren’t doing okay after three months i almost caved in, but i thought you would’ve hated me or worse just not care. and to not have you like i once did was taking a toll on me. my mom was concerned as to why we broke up, but i couldn’t tell her the truth. i hurt you and im so sorry baby…” jude cried out, grabbing your hands and kissing over your knuckles. 

“I want and need you back… i still love you more than ever, and if you let me i can prove to you im now a better and mature man…” he pauses and breathes in, “leaving you was the scariest thing i’ve encountered, not having you by my side taught me i can't live or sleep without you there…”

“and if you say all of this to just leave me again? or you regret your decision to get back with me?” you can’t help but ask, letting a few tears out. what if it got too much for him? you wouldn’t be able to live with another heartache caused by him again. you need to hear him say he’s in it for the long run, not one where he can just up and go whenever he pleases. 

“i can assure you right here, right now, that you’re it for me. you’re my future wife, the mother to my kids, the only person i want to grow old with. the only girl who’ll support me at the end of the day no matter what. the only woman who i will forever love and cherish…” you giggle and choke on a sob, feeling jude’s thumb wipe away the tears. 

“don’t leave me… that all i ask. but i need you too jude. all i ask is for you to communicate with me, for us to give each other the assurance we need to move forward, that at the end of the day you’re the only one i come back to, to watch spy kids over and over again,” you say making him chuckle, watching as he let out some tears. You wiped them away, brushing your thumb over his soft cheek, his eyes closing at the feeling. “So were really doing this?” you ask. “yes we are really doing this…” jude says leaning and scooting closer to you. 

you leaned in, his eyes slowly fluttering closed, was this real? the touch of his lips connecting with yours confirmed it. the way his larger hand cupped your cheek and pulled closer, completely taking your breath away. you whimpered softly as his tongue entered your mouth, him groaning at the smallest sound you made. you brought your hands and cupped his upper shoulders before bringing your smaller palm on his cheek. 

jude pulled you onto his lap where you felt the big prominent bulge, leaning forward and grabbing your torso to hold you in place. his lips quickly connected back with yours, tilting his head to the side a bit as he pulled you closer, chest to chest. “jude…” you let out quietly, the tension all becoming too much, too hot… 

“yes? fuck- d-do you wanna stop?” he whispered faintly on your lips, to which you shook your head no. you leaned back slightly, your hands going back to unzip the white dress you were wearing, jude’s eyes roaming from your swollen lips down to your chest where your white lace bra covered what he wanted to see. “are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this y/n…” 

“i’m more than sure that i want this… i need you, jude. just like you just said…” he groaned and pulled you back towards him, where he kissed your lips like a hungry starved man. peppering kisses from your jaw, down to your neck, and that exact spot he manages to find that makes you go crazy. he bites down gently then sucks the skin where he marked you, kissing softly over it. “i need you too. need you so bad my cock’s aching to feel you again…”

he lays you down onto the plushy soft couch, grabbing a pillow and laying underneath your head. jude quickly removes the dress but leaves you with your white undergarments, his hands dragging your sides, observing your body like it would be his last time seeing it. you begin to cover yourself but he stops you, grabbing your hands with one of his and trapping them above you head. 

he kisses you softly on your lips, then your forehead in reassurance, “don’t cover up baby. you’re so beautiful and all mine, yeah?” you nodded leaning up to kiss him again. he lets go of your hands, watching as you sit up again, overlooking at your fingers fidgeting with the button on his top. he lets you do it, your warm palms connecting with now his bare chest, running your thumb over his nipple, looking up shyly to see jude bitting his bottom lip.

as you lay back down, you watch as he removes his pants, his erected cock lined against his black calvins. “staring at me now?” jude teased, his hands resting on your knees as he pulled them apart to settle between them. “can’t help it, jude. you’re so handsome,” you complimented watching as he smirked. “and i’m all yours, right? say it y/n…”

“all mine.”

“good. because all that nonsense from before isn’t true. you’ve always been mine… only mine.” jude removed your bra, kissing from your collarbone down through your sternum, to finally sucking the hard erected nipple into his mouth. a soft moan left your lips, arching your back just a bit, while your hands gently grabbed his head. you didn’t expect your night to end like this, but you weren’t complaining since jude knew what exactly to do. he knew what brought you to the point where you saw only stars. 

your eyes connected, watching as he flatly laid his warm tongue on the bud before sucking it again, twisting the tip of his tongue before doing the same to the other nipple. you felt as his lips traced all over your abdomen and hipbone, feeling as he removed the only thing that was left covering you. “can i taste you? make you cum all over my tongue again?” you moaned at his words, telling him to go on. 

one hand kept your inner thigh open, as the other one rested over his shoulder. he kissed along the inner flesh before kissing and sucking your clit into his mouth. he groaned, watching as your eyes rolled back. his tongue moved up and down various on the small bead before going left to right, kitty licking all the way down to your coated entrance. “oh fuck!” you yelled out, as he brought two fingers and began to flick them in and out, hitting that certain spot that brought you closer and closer than ever. 

he tilted his head to the side, his curls ticking your inner thigh as he began to flick over your clit once again. Jude’s fingers now flicking inside you, “i can’t, i’m close jude…” you said bringing your hands to play with your tits. “yeah? then cum for me y/n. cum all over my tongue like i asked,” to which you yelped and moaned as you felt on cloud nine again, closing your eyes and letting the feeling of euphoria linger all over you body. 

he overstimulated you just for a bit, then kissed all the way back up again to your lips, where gripped your hips, grinding into you to relieve himself. “you feel that? that’s how you make me feel baby…” he whispers feeling as your hand slides down his abs, to the waistband of his underwear. the kiss is heated, tongues fighting for dominance, jude pulling away sometimes to groan or moan against your neck, as you gave him the sloppiest handjob. 

feeling as he twitches on your palm as you guide your hand up and down, tugging and wrapping your grip tightly before soothing over it. “i need to cum… but not like this. can i fuck you now?” he admits, looking over and making sure there are no signs of you being unsure or regret. “please jude, i want to feel you a-ag-again…” you shuddered as you felt his hot tip being dragged up and down your slit. 

one hand helped him stay up, while the other one guided his cock inside you, the familiar stretch of your walls as he easily slides into you. the two of you moan in delight, stunned at the pleasure as jude begins to roll his hips, going deeper and deeper. arching your back as he pulled out his cock and then quickly rolled back in. “jude..” you moan like a devotion, squeezing him tight, hearing him let out a grunt before feeling him thrust back into you. 

you cry out as you feel his big length find a nice wave of ecstasy for the two of you, jude’s head falling into your shoulder trying to hold back from cumming on the spot. “you feel so so so good baby. such a tight pussy for me…” he moans out when you scratch his back and grip his biceps. you look down to see where your bodies meet, a wet mess that has you rolling your head back again. 

“oh god jude… you’re so deep i can’t-” you turn your head to the side as he finds your g-spot thrusting over and over again, his hips slapping against yours. it couldn't get more better than this. jude grabs your chin and kisses you passionately, swallowing your moans and pleads. “you’re gonna cum for me? need and want you to cum on my cock y/n… show me how much of a good girl you are and cum on my cock, baby.”

jude makes it his goal to have you cumming for him, but you try to hold off so you can cum together. every cell in your body is on fire, ready to burst into fire because it feels so good. it gets harder by the second as he picks up the pace, his thrusts sloppier by the second, moaning your name, resulting in you clenching around him. you're unable to form coherent words, just hearing his breathing getting louder, your chest rising. “i’m nearly there y/n, want you to cum with me, can you do that?”

“yes jude… but i beg you to please don’t stop it.”

jude let’s go of your hips, forehead falling with yours as he reaches his high, feeling his cock twitching inside you, his cum lacing your wet walls with his release. your body tenses for a second, the hot feeling now being replaced by cold waves as you cum, lazily kissing as jude lays on your chest. “i love you, y/n, so much.”

“i love you too Jude. forever like we promised.”

after going up for a shower, jude takes care of you, since you were unable to walk properly. he makes sure you’re hydrated, wearing the plaid shorts you love with a black long sleeve, him just an old pair of boxers he still had lying in your flat, he checks that all lighting units downstairs are off, grabbing the box of cookies and goldfish to eat. 

he pulls you into his embrace, hugging your waist never letting go, constantly softly kissing your cheek like he always did. after he uses the restroom and helps you brush your teeth, you’re lying on your bed, the white sheets covering your shivering bodies. 

jude lays on top of your chest again, his right hand sliding up and down your side, his head resting comfortably on the crook of your neck, his eyes fluttering and smiling when you kiss his temple lovingly. “go to sleep jude… you need it, i’m not going anywhere,” you promise feeling as he wraps you closer to him. “don’t ever let me go please, just want you here like this all the time…” he confesses, his head coming up to see your glowy eyes. 

“i’m not gonna… i feel safe and at home in your arms like this jude. so no, i’m not letting you go again or ever,” you stick with your word. jude’s lips softly kiss yours, tasting your cherry chapstick with a hint of mint.

“goodnight princess. i love you.”

[joontroverted]

best friend gojo who's here to help you with your pms!

pairing : gojo satoru x reader

word count : 2.2k

tags : reader has pms, groping, titty sucking, grinding, clit rubbing, gojo is heavily implied to be the bisexual loser who gets no bitches that he is, nanami mention (who do you think I am after all), a lot of back and forth between him and reader. if not smutty, ik you will find this funny 😁

obviously gojo satoru is more of an active person, he'd rather be outside than inside, but he'd lock himself in jail if that meant he could spend some time with you. that's why he's here, bursting in arms filled with sweet treats. you groan, sitting up, making grabby hands for the gummy bears and he snickers, squeezing your cheek.

"you're not funny, satoru," you mutter, adjusting yourself in bed again.

"but I do get it! once a month, you and I become extremely similar, united by a hunger for sweets!" he laughs, tossing another sweet in the air and catching it with his mouth.

"how the fuck hasn't shoko beat some sense into you to speak to women with more respect," you say, smacking him over the head with a pillow.

the time passes, too slowly for your liking. satoru, to his credit keeps himself busy, chattering on about something or the other. you're busy twisting around in bed for a better position to provide yourself some relief from the random cramps, and satoru cannot help it.

he cannot help himself from staring at you.

all this while, he had been yammering on about anything he could think of, trying to distract himself from you. but here you are, refusing to settle down in one place.

he didn't really know all of the biology of the entire cycle, but he knew enough to figure out that periods come a month away from the last. and if he didn't figure out himself, your bitching was enough for him to know that the time was here.

he had burst into your apartment all cheery to give you some good vibes (and give himself some good vibes), and had walked right into your room to see you looking drained and angry. like he could focus on that when you were just sitting there, looking delicious. 

sure, you look good all the time. of course you dress up when you go clubbing, curves all fitted in a snug dress, hair and face done to the t. but now… god. the heat had made you forgo the usual hoodie or baggy shirt you'd pull on and you had instead worn an old tank top with a pair of booty shorts which you had announced you only put on because you heard him come in.

like damn who asked you to do that, but whatever makes you comfortable.

but.

your tits. your tits. your tits. your tits had swollen up, as they do every period, and they were trapped and straining against the tank top you had thrown on, which was obviously not built for the extra curve of them. and your nipples, fuck. they poked through the material, hard, prominent and enticing.

he sneaks another peak at them, and his eyes nearly fall out of his fucking head when he saw that in all the time he was lost in his thoughts, mindlessly blabbering, you're grabbing them.

round, juicy tits were in your hands, and you are squeezing them periodically, with your eyes closed, breathing slowly. he watches the cleavage peeking out of your neckline, the bulge of your boobs bouncing up and down as and when you squeezed them, and the little sighs that you keep giving. he gulps.

before he knows it, more like a horny panic response, he reaches forward and jabs your thigh. 

“ow, what the fuck?” 

your eyes fly open and you stare at satoru, who himself has no clue what the fuck just happened. and your hands. your hands are still grabbing your fucking tits.

“you weren't listening to my story,” he manages, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth.

you look like you could slap him. he would accept that. he wishes he could slap himself. 

“the fucking story about how you charmed your way to the front of the line at the coffee shop (not starbucks, fuck starbucks) once again? that fucking story?”

he just has to soldier through this. “yeah, that story! it's impressive to make your way past the old coffee addicted coots before their 9 to 5. if you want to massage your tits that bad do it on your own time!”

oh no. now he's said it. he’s brought attention to the the melons- elephant in the room.

“you are so useless,” you hiss. “you useless, useless man.” you are rising onto your knees and making your way closer to him. 

his eyes widen as he leans back. he chuckles nervously. “hey, i'm not entirely useless. i mean, i can take away your period, but just for -”

your hand shoots out and grabs his face. “if you pull that pathetic playboy shit on me right now i'm gonna slap you so hard you'll see stars,” you whisper.

satoru doesn't dare breathe, the space between you two is so small, lips almost touching, your breasts heaving. 

“how big?”

“wh- what?” he stutters. 

men and women and almost everyone who has laid eyes on him have tried to smooth talk him, and here he is, stuttering for you. 

“how big are they?”

oh! your tits! your fucking tits!

“big. bigger. bigger than usual. beautiful.” he muddles.

you huff, and seem to relax a bit. “good,” you say, pulling back a little. “now use them.”

with that, you turn away and plop down right in front of him, ass pushed against his crotch, and he can just hope that you don’t feel how hard he is right now. 

“what,” he says again, stupidly. yes, he always dreamed of this day. no, he didn't know what the fuck was going on.

“your hands satoru. use your hands! you keep comparing hand sizes with me, so use your big fucking hands to massage me!”

his hands. his stupid hands. okay.

“jeez just say that, you tease. and here i thought that i could feel up a girl after so long,” he jokes, the only way he knows how to get out of this situation, his face still hot. he grabs your shoulders and squeezes haphazardly, “juicy tits are rare to come by, after all i can only jump nanami so many times before he -” 

you grab his hands from your shoulders and pull them from the back around your body to your tits and squeeze. 

“oh,” you moan. “oh god, that's good.”

you're too deep in the sauce to notice that satoru's brain's been fried. his fingers just follow your directions, fingertips digging into the plush flesh, while you moan away. you tip your head back, eyes closed. he stares at you, the relief you’re in and how you're openly just using him for your own gain so unabashedly. your head hits his shoulder, causing your eyes to open slightly, making direct eye contact with him. that snaps him out of the daze that he's in.

“yeah?’ he mutters, his voice low, “you like that?”

“uh huh,” you nod, eyes not leaving his.

“all right cutie,” he chuckles, “i'll give you what you want.”

he finally goes with the flow and starts massaging. his big hands circle around each breast, gathering them entirely, and squeezing. his thumbs grind down on the neglected sides of your tits in circles, pulling out an unexpected moan from you.

“oh, that was good!”

“yeah? tell me more,” he says, steadily pushing them in and out.

“they were just- just so sore, toru. and yesterday i was out the entire day, and you know i had to wear a bra because i can't just not wear a bra! so they were so so restricted and tied up! so obviously i don't wear a bra when i'm at home -”

he knows. he's seen. 

“- but i don't know, the soreness just somehow feels different and worse now? because they so heavy and swollen, and they're hanging down, nothing to hold ‘em up!”

“aww, poor baby. why didn't you tell me earlier, huh?” he asks, working his way around your breasts.

“i don't know… my head's been so fuzzy, and my cramps are pretty bad too.”

“well that's okay cutie. i'll be there from now on, yeah?” he whispers into your ear. even beyond his own horniness, he really does want to help you. he didn't know he too could benefit from this though.

“yeah… thank - oh!” you shriek.

“what?”

“my nipples, oh, they're just too sore, toru! you need to be gentle!” you huff.

“‘m sorry baby, i'll be more careful, kay?” he mutters, looking down at your hard nipples, poking through the strained material of your tank top. since today has been full of miracles for him, he decides to push his luck. “can i… can i see ‘em?”

see them? you had definitely been lost in the bliss of the situation to see the realness of it. to see that the line between friendship and the light flirting that had been going on between you and satoru off late had been getting blurrier by the moment. you are too horny and in need of pain (and horny) relief to be thinking clearly. 

“nothing has to change, kay?’’ whispers satoru into your ear. “it's just you and me… and your tits between us, obviously” he giggles, nipping your ear a bit.

you look at him. things would change, you decide, looking at the slightly dizzy look he has, his eyes lidded, lip between his teeth. he's easier to read than he thinks he is. knowingly, you nod.

“atta girl,” he whispers, positively buzzing with excitement. he pushes himself off from behind you, instead laying you down on the pillow he was leaning on and coming to the front. “atta fucking girl.”

he slides down your body, tossing away the blanket that was loosely thrown over your legs, showing your thighs and your shorts hiked up enough for them to just look like underwear. he wants to settle his face onto them so badly, but that's a task for another day. for now, he looks up. 

you're looking down at him, your usually pissy face wide eyed, waiting for him to make his next move. he can't help but smirk at how cute you look, especially considering how much you gag or at least pretend to gag whenever he flirts with you. 

“i'm gonna lift this up, okay?” he tells you, holding the hem of your tank top.

you nod.

he pulls the hem up, up and over your tits, exposing them. the air hits your nipples, causing them to pebble even more. 

“fuck,” he whispers, his eyes wide and unblinking. “fuck baby, they're beautiful.”

“they're all swollen and… stuff,” you mutter, not knowing what to say.

he reaches forward and grabs the two mounds, one in each hand. 

“hi!” he says to the one in his right hand, jiggling it, “hi!” he says, now to the left one, jiggling that one too.

“satoru, you're such a dor- oh!”

he's opened his mouth and latched onto your right nipple, his wet, warm mouth, enveloping the smaller, tender bud. years of sucking on lollipops, and other things, makes him really, really good at this. eyes closed, he sucks and sucks, tongue circling the nipple and lapping it up. the pointy, sensitive bud is soothed by his constant suckling, causing you to moan out loud. that finally gets him to open his eyes and gaze back at you, pausing his administration. 

“i'm such a dork, huh?”

“shut up, god!”

“no god, just satoru gojo,” he says smarmily, nuzzling into your other boob, his hair tickling your neck, and under your chin.

you smack his head and he snickers. he goes back to suckling on your tits, plump lips leaving a trail of shiny gloss on your tits as he kisses them away. his hand continues to massage your other tit, and his other hand is, well… gripping your thigh.

“satoru,” you gasp, but he pays no heed. you push him away from you slightly. “satoru!”

that breaks him out of his daze, looking up at you. “did i do something?”

“could you um… could we grind?” you whisper.

“i can touch your pussy?” he ask hungrily, eyes gleaming.

“no!” you yelp, “not directly at least, we aren't there yet. but could i… grind on you for a bit?”

“fuck yeah you can!” he almost shouts. he pulls his leg up, his knee pushing against your clit.

with how sensitive and horny you are, that little move makes you moan, sending shivers up your body. and this bratty demon descends upon you immediately. he’s back to suckling on your tit, while the other hand massages your other one, gently pulling your nipple now and then. the sensitivity added with the gentle tugging creates a delicious sort of slightly painful yet soothing delight. your back arches and he most definitely cannot be comfortable in his position to satisfy you in every place all at once but he doesn't even pause for a moment, not letting up on his knee grinding on your clit. 

“satoru, satoru, slow down,” you gasp, the sensitivity knowing no bounds.

“no,” he replies “i don't get to see you in your panties even! i'm taking whatever i caaan,” he says in a sing song way, going back to his sucking.

“fuck you!” you gasp, writhing at this point.

he makes a sound that you cannot decipher, and moves his hand from your thigh to your clit, pinching it, eyes flitting up to see your reaction.

“fuck! fuck!” you exclaim, “more, toru, please!"

"yeah baby?" he asks, rubbing which circles around your clit, as if he would ever hesitate to give you anything, ever. he looks down at you, the state you're in. tank top pushed all the way up, uncovering your breasts, your soft tits jiggling up and down, as you grind down to meet his fingers. and as he looks down to his fingers, he sees the prominent lips of your pussy through your shorts as his fingers pressed unwavering against your little clit. one day. he is so close.

you are so close.

the heat in your body is building up, the pressure in your tummy rising. the band stretches tighter and tighter and satoru, that evil boy is only enjoying this. your period addled brain cannot ever string together an insult to throw his way, and instead you wantonly moan, motioning for him to come closer.

he leans in, an eyebrow quicker up.

"kiss," you whisper. "needta kiss you toru."

that takes him by surprise. 

"of- course you can, pretty girl," he whispers back, "been dreaming of this day".

with that, your lips meet, and it's immediately sloppy and desperate. tongue and gloss and indignance from both sides have your eyes rolled to the back of your head soon enough, so much so that you don't even realize that you've let go of the pressure that was building up, the band snapping.

with a gasp, you orgasm, shaking against satoru, who doesn't even seem to be phased. he's taken lapping and nipping against your lips as you come down from the high. your shaky fingers come to grasp his toned arms.

"hmm, how's that for some pms relief, huh?" he mutters against you, laying himself on you gingerly, making sure he isn't squishing your tits accidentally. "good job, both of you," he says, looking at your tits.

"and good job to you too, cutie," he says, looking up to you. he looks content and smug. "still think I'm a dork after all that?"

you pull a face, too sleepy and too, well whipped to insult him. he looks so sexy and adorable at the same time. proud and happy and eager all at once, his hair sticking up. you reach out to ruffle his hair and pull his ear. 

"you're not off of massaging duty though. I have a full night's sleep to catch up on after I clean myself up," you grunt, pushing yourself off of the bed to go to the bathroom. 

satoru follows you, like a puppy. 

you turn back to look at him. "are you gonna um… take care of yourself?"

"yeah, about that," he mutters, looking away, his hands hovering over the crotch of his sweatpants. "you don't have to worry about that- "

you yank his hands away from his crotch to reveal a dark stain down the front of it.

"you fucking dork!" you exclaim, laughing "you came just from that? I didn't even touch you!"

"yeah yeah, laugh all you want, after using me like that" he rolls his eyes, his cheeks pink. 

"when did you even come?"

he remains quiet.

"satoru," you egg on gleefully, almost forgetting all the pain you are in.

"there was a lot of precum when you first made me grab your tits… and then I came when I… when I saw em bare for the first time," he trails off.

you smack his shoulder. "you pathetic boy!" you laugh, "is that why you wouldn't let up on me"

"fuck off, you're such a meanie, and after I just gave you the best time ever!" he shouts, closing his ears, dashing past you to the bathroom. 

you follow him, and he's kicking off his sweatpants and pulling off his underwear. "don't look!" he shrieks, face red. 

"I'm not looking" you laugh, turning away and beginning to change too. "I just wanna get cleaned up and go back to sleep."

he grunts. "can I -"

"can you what?"

you see the tips of his ears are pink as he throws one of the many pairs of shorts he left at your place before. 

"can I suck on your right tit and jiggle your left one while you sleep and after that maybe put my head between your thi- "

"satoru!"

first smut fic yay!

comments, likes, reblogs and excited rambling tags are HIGHLY APPRECIATED! ❤

[astroa3h]

mars through the signs ❤️‍🔥

Mars, that red, raging ball of energy in the sky 🔴, isn’t just about anger 😡 and conflict ⚔️. It’s the engine in our lives, driving our passions, our fights 👊, and those dark, hidden cravings 🖤 we don’t always admit to, even to ourselves.

Aries Mars: Fasten your seatbelt. Mars feels at home here, since it rules Aries. Making you a walking fireball. You're the person who goes after what they want, no holds barred. But here's the twist: this can make you a bit of a bulldozer in life and relationships. Ever felt that thrill from a bit of chaos? That's Aries Mars egging you on, pushing you to start fires just to feel alive. But in the heat of the moment, you might burn bridges you later wish you’d crossed instead.

Taurus Mars: Slow and steady, but when you want something, oh, you’ll get it. The catch? Mars is in detriment here. Meaning your desires come with a string of consequences. You might also find yourself stuck in a loop of wanting things that aren’t good for you, simply because they feel comfortable or fulfill a materialistic void. Ever caught yourself thinking, “Why do I keep doing this?” That’s Taurus Mars, whispering in your ear that change is scary, and comfort zones are there for a reason, even if they're lined with thorns.

Gemini Mars: Ideas, conversations, a quick wit – that’s your jam. But here’s the dark side: an insatiable thirst for newness can lead you to stir the pot, spreading rumors or jumping from one thing (or person) to another, never truly satisfied. It's like you're on a quest for something that always seems just out of reach, leading to a cycle of restless energy that can leave you, and those around you, feeling scattered.

Cancer Mars: Passionate and protective, you fight for your loved ones like a warrior. But that Mars energy? It usually turns inward, becoming moodiness or passive-aggressiveness. Mars feels very uncomfortable here because it’s IN FALL. Ever felt like your emotions are a rollercoaster, swinging from nurturing to spiteful? That’s your Mars in Cancer, a turbulent ocean under a calm surface, sometimes letting those dark waves crash out in unexpected ways.

Leo Mars: A heart of gold, with a flare for the dramatic. You want to be seen, loved and admired. But when the spotlight isn’t on you, Mars can make you a jealous monster, acting out in ways that shock even yourself. Ever done something purely for the drama of it all? That’s Leo Mars, craving attention and sometimes setting the stage on fire just to be the star of the show.

Virgo Mars: Perfectionist much? Mars here drives you to work hard and criticize harder especially yourself. But this can spiral into a dark place where nothing’s ever good enough, leading to anxiety or pointing out flaws in others to deflect from your own insecurities. Ever nitpicked something to death? That’s Virgo Mars, whispering that if you can’t control everything, then everything’s out of control.

Libra Mars: Peace, love, and harmony, right? Well, Mars feels a bit awkward here. Mars is in detriment in Libra. You strive for balance but can become indecisive, avoiding confrontation to the point where resentment builds up. Ever found yourself agreeing just to keep the peace, then seething inside? That’s Libra Mars, wearing a mask of diplomacy while secretly wanting to tip the scales in your favor.

Scorpio Mars: Intense, passionate, with a magnetic allure. You pursue your desires with a focus that can turn obsessive. Ever felt a desire so strong, that it scared you? That’s Scorpio Mars, diving into the depths of desire, where passion can turn into manipulation or power games, revealing the lengths you’ll go to hold onto what, or who, you want.

Sagittarius Mars: Adventure calls, and you’re always chasing the horizon. But that quest for freedom can lead you to run from commitment or responsibilities, leaving a trail of unfinished business. Ever felt trapped by the mundane, itching to escape? That’s Sagittarius Mars, whispering that the grass is always greener somewhere else, even if it means leaping before you look.

Capricorn Mars: Ambition is your middle name. You’re all about goals and success, you feel on top of the world most days because Mars is exalted in Capricorn! However, that drive can turn into obsession, where the end justifies any means. Ever stepped on toes to climb higher, then wondered if it was worth it? That’s Capricorn Mars, urging you to build empires, even if it means isolating yourself on that throne of achievements.

Aquarius Mars: Rebel with a cause, you fight for change and innovation. But sometimes, that fight can become detached, valuing ideals over human connections. Ever pushed for something radical, only to realize you’re standing alone? That’s Aquarius Mars, championing the future but sometimes forgetting that revolutions are fought together, not in isolation.

Pisces Mars: Compassionate and empathetic, you feel the world deeply. But Mars here can lead to escapism, where you avoid confrontation or hard truths through fantasy or self-sabotage. Ever found yourself dreaming of a savior, or using imagination to escape reality? That’s Pisces Mars, swimming in deep waters of desire, where the line between dreams and reality blurs.

xox astro ash ❤️‍🔥

Get your own astrology reading @ astroash.net

TikTok - astroa3h

[astarions-wife]

I can’t believe it’s come to the point of analyzing Cazador for all of you, but considering the amount of “Cazador can be redeemed!” And “Cazador x reader” I’ve seen, I feel like i need to make this.

So you feel pity for Cazador because he also suffered at the hands of his master. Good. That’s the point. You should feel something for Cazador, he also suffered abuse, and was dragged into the cycle of it by Vellioth. It’s awful, it’s terrible, but it doesn’t mean he’s redeemable.

Very much so, when Cazador kills Vellioth and chooses to start the cycle of power and abuse over again, he was too far gone. He made the choice, the conscious choice to be the same as his old master. Of course he’s suffering internally, somewhere is the soul of someone who lost everything, and became something awful. However he doesn’t even say he wishes for a reset. He wishes for death. Only in death is he free of the cycle of abuse, for his role in it is too far gone at this point.

“Orin and Gortash have apologists!” They do, but they’re also under different circumstances. It’s also justifiable to absolutely hate Orin and Gortash (believe me, even as someone who believes Gortash could’ve been better, I killed him in my initial run). Specifically as the Dark Urge, you can tell Orin that she’s being used just as Kethric and Gortash were. She’ll even break down as if she’s realizing that all this death she’s done in the name of her father/for her God, has been her being taken advantage of. Though she never gets a chance to be better, because she’s forcibly transformed in this ending, it’s just a sneak peak of what could have been. She was being used, and while it doesn’t erase or justify ANYTHING she did (and you’re well within your right, and should hold her accountable), it at least gives the player insight on to what could have been.

Likewise with Gortash, a victim of abuse at the hands of Raphael, with canonical lines on how he was beaten in the House of Hope as a little boy. His own parents sold him out, and he ended up being so desperate to be bigger, to have more power, that he also let himself be used, and in turn lost everything he worked hard for (and sold out Karlach, which is absolutely unforgivable of course). However he wasn’t too far gone. You can see his loyalty to you depending what options you pick, and although death is his inevitable end, it still shows that there was still a person inside.

There wasn’t a person in Cazador anymore. He was trapped behind the wall of abuse that he continued, and refused to even acknowledge it, or try and see reason. Perhaps it wasn’t possible for him, but ultimately his actions brought him here. Those that say Ascension for Astarion would free him of those chains, are simply wrong. Why does Astarion deserve to live, anymore than his siblings? Or the seven thousand people who were turned against their will? Of course Astarion is more, controlled in his hunger—but so are his siblings. Even speaking to them after the fight they’ll all vow and attest that they can control themselves, and they’ll even help the others if brought to it.

Ascended Astarion picks up the abuse cycle, killing thousands of people with just his first command. Ascended Astarion no longer speaks to you, but instead at you. You’re his “favorite” spawn, but then again Cazador had favorites didn’t he? And all of them suffered just as badly as the rest. Ascended Astarion even mentions “covering the world in darkness for his spawn”, which shows him continuing the abusive cycle that got Cazador in the first place.

Cazador dying, and spawn Astarion choosing to break the cycle is the significant ending. The best ending for Cazador, the only one for him, is to let him die. He’s a horrible, cruel, bitter man, and any sense of his humanity died long ago. Only in his dreams is there anything left, and he’s too cut off to even reach them anymore.

We also know that the Szarr’s had family. There are relatives to Cazador (see his niece), and clearly it wouldn’t have been wrong of him as a vampire to have a family if he so chose. But he didn’t seek out a partner, like some of his other (vampire) relatives did. He chose to only live by his spawn, whom he considered his children, showing that he truly didn’t see a need for a partner. Themes of family are a vital part of his story, but the element of a romantic partner never has been.

TLDR—Some villains in this game are understood, and potentially redeemable if given the option. Cazador is not one of them.

[angelstate]

FWB!Soap x InloveFem!Reader.

+18 content warning

FWB!Soap who claims to not feel romantic feelings for you, saying that he sees you as a friend and values your friendship too much to try and have a serious relationship with you. It's meaningless sex at the end of the day (at least to him), just using each other to not spend the night alone.

FWB!Soap spends most of his paid leave in your bedroom, secluded from the friends he claims to have apart from you, fucking you in every position he can manhandle your body into, your legs over his shoulder, pulling you by your arms so you don’t fall in while he fucks you standing doggy.

FWB!Soap really likes to spend his free time with his cock buried in one of your three holes, making you sob from pleasure and pain while he gets off by the way tears run down your eyes, overstimulated and spent yet still letting him do whatever he wants with you, a true sweetheart you are.

FWB!Soap who would rather kill every man that tries to court you than find another person to fuck while not being in a serious relationship, he values you too much to let another man have you (but he doesn’t love you, right?) so it’s a back and forth between talking you into not going on dates, threatening guys who approach you when you are out with him and as a last resort, talking shit about you behind your back to them when you invite them to your shared apartment. warning them about how crazy you get when you enter a relationship (you are a fucking angel, soap knows that but he doesn’t want other guys to know)

FWB!Soap who thinks he is the only one allowed to fuck other people, going out to clubs and fucking girls in a dark alleyway, (he would never bring them to your apartment) the smells of a woman’s perfume lingering on his shirt and the hickeys on his neck a clear evidence that he went and fuck someone who isn’t you. it hurts when he does it, he knows how much it breaks your heart, he has listened to you sob at night more times than he can count every time he has returned with hickeys and lipstick stains.

FWB!Soap who after he hears you crying because of him tries to cheer you up, buying you gifts of your special interest or hobbies. inviting you to eat dinner at the fancy restaurant you don’t go to often because of the high prices. and he treats you wonderfully, princess treatment to its max extent, doing everything he can to soothe the ache in your heart from knowing he fucks other girls even though you’re not a couple.

FWB!Soap who is aware of the vicious cycle he trapped himself in, fucking you for days straight, going out and fucking another girl, listening to you cry when you see the hickeys, and doing everything he can to make you feel better, hating how much he hurts you without meaning to before repeating it all again.

FWB!Soap gets undeniably scared at times, fearing you will get tired of him and his actions. he knows what he is doing is wrong but is so fucking hard for him to be in a committed relationship being constantly deployed to different countries. he tried it once and it didn’t work out, so why try again? He has you after all, and being friends with benefits fills his basic needs for the most part.

FWB!Soap is so painfully oblivious to the signals he and you give. Of course, he holds your hand when you're out in public because you get lost easily, walks closer to the street because is safer for you, stands behind you so creeps don’t look at your ass, kisses your forehead every once in a while when he’s talking to someone so you know he isn’t ignoring you.

FWB!Soap does the absolute max to be a good “friend” to you and make you feel loved since being friends with benefits with him makes it impossible for you to get a boyfriend. he knows he’s compensating you for the pain he causes you, and trust him, he does love you but he doesn’t love you. (that’s what he tells himself)

FWB!Soap who after speaking to Ghost and feels nothing short of a piece of shit for the dynamic of your situationship. “you’re going to lose her, Johnny” Simon oh so generously said to him after hearing Soap rant for almost 20 minutes about how he had taken you out to eat because he felt guilty for making you cry once again. (he is a piece of shit to the core)

FWB!Soap comes home after being deployed for almost three weeks only to see a man in your apartment, sitting on the couch like he owns the place while you come out for the kitchen with a bowl full of popcorn, surprised to see Soap standing at the door, not expecting he would be back so soon but happy regardless of his arrival.

“Johnny!” you high pitch squeal fills his ears and he feels hot from anger and joy, he lets you jump on his arms, hugging him the best you can with the height difference, his gear still on, a gun tucked on his belt holster while he hugs you back, staring darkly at the guy on the couch he is already planning how to kill. “hi bonnie” he answers a few seconds later, pulling away from the hug, his hands on your hips so you can’t move away, claiming possession of you to the man sitting not even 10 feet away from him.

He knows he shouldn’t be selfish and let you move on from him, but he is a new man after speaking to Ghost. He swears by it. He knows he loves you, he knows he wants a future with you so why don’t you wait for him just a little bit longer, why jump at the first opportunity you had to find another man? He had never brought any woman home, so why did you bring someone? you’re not playing fair, at least not by the game he put you in forcefully.

And he feels murderous, truly psychotic but doesn’t act on it, no. He would never subject you to that side of him, instead he decided to play just as dirty as you had done. “Why don’t you tell me who's your friend, Bonnie, aye?” he asks, manhandling you softly so you turn around to face the man on the couch who is awfully quiet. Soap guides you, making you walk forward, his hands not leaving your hips.

“he’s Matt, he’s one of my brother's friends” Your sweet voice rings he’s ears and for a moment he thinks that maybe this isn’t a date then, that maybe your brother’s friend just decided to visit you but Soap isn’t that fucking dumb, not when it comes to see the intentions guys have with you. “Matt, this is Johnny my…friend” you add a few seconds later, hesitating on what to call Soap, because sure, you are friends, but you also fuck, cuddle and go out on dates that neither of you ever actually called dates but the implication is there, all that is lacking is the title soap refuses to give to everything he does with you and to you.

you rather not be here in this situation, knowing how soap can get when you meet up with friends he doesn’t know about, and he wasn't even meant to come home today, not even this week and you had questions as to why he had returned so early but it wasn’t the right moment to ask, not with how fucking serious soap sounded (he is never serious around you)

“figured that one out quickly, love” Matt responds, a chuckle leaving his lips even though to Soap nothing was fucking funny right now, quite the opposite but he decides to play along with the clear joke of a man you let into your home. he does want to ripe his throat off because he called you Love and he might as well just do it (when you aren’t present of course.)

Soap sets one of his hands on his gun, moving to stand beside you so the guy can see he’s armed and isn’t afraid to kill him, he had his hands stained with people’s blood, what’s another life to take, everything for you, anything for you. defending an ownership of you he didn’t have.

“don’t mean to kick ya out mate but I rather you go, need to talk to my girl, aye?” Soap says, trying to be polite but he doesn’t give a shit if it comes out as him kicking Matt out, he is kicking him out after all, just with much kinder words for your well-being, not because he respects or wants to be him to the piece of shit on your couch.

And you caught onto Soap truly meant quickly, but it’s all overpowered by the fact he called you his girl, his fucking girl. and you know that with him you shouldn’t get your hopes high no matter how much he sweet talks you and calls you his, he’s done it before and not held up to the name he gave you.

FWB!Soap is a complicated mess when it comes to feelings and showing you how much he loves you because he truly doesn’t do well in relationships and doesn't want to break your heart. God knows how much he hates to see you hurting because of him. But maybe tonight he can’t stop caring for a few hours, just enough time to get rid of that stupid friend of yours and make sure he doesn’t ever appear in your life again, you don’t want a guy like him around, one who doesn’t respect Soap as your lover even though he isn’t.

FWB!Soap really hates breaking your heart, but he acts upon what’s best for you and your tears are a price worth paying so you can live your best life. The death of Matt shouldn’t come as a shock to you, but it does. Because although you know what Soap is capable of, you don’t expect him to just kill someone because they were interested in you and didn't shy away from trying and taking you away from him.

FWB!Soap who realizes that it’s time to make you his, because even though he doesn’t mind killing people to make you his, still is a fucking difficult job to find ways to dispose of the bodies without leaving evidence of his doing.

Boyfriend!Soap who ends up killing a few more people once he already made you his girlfriend but gladly does so when men come too close to you and are too bold and actually threaten your relationship with Soap. Maybe he should move you to a small city in Scotland, marry you, and give you a kid so you’re too busy being devoted to your family to ever notice how there are better men than Soap interested in you.

[smytherines]

Fuck it, here's an Agent Mega dissertation

Alright since I have such elaborate headcanon for my beloved precious Owen Carvour, I guess I should do it for Agent Curt Mega too. Sigh.

So, going off of the last big one, if Owen is born in 1928, then I'm gonna say Curt was born in 1930. I'm forever won to the Texan agent mega headcanon, but I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Mega is not from Texas, probably more like New York or I've seen people say New Jersey.

We know nothing about Agent Mega's dad, but I imagine he was kind of a loser and low level con artist and moved his pregnant wife down to Texas to do scams around the bustling oil industry, and then soon after Curt was born a scam collapsed and he ran off. It's either that or an Aladdin 3 situation where he was secretly a spy the whole time and had to go into hiding.

So we've got mama Mega, raising a VERY hyperactive (read: ADHD) little boy on her own, in a place where she doesn't have any support, and he just becomes her entire world. But she has to work a lot, so Curt becomes used to taking care of himself, and most importantly- keeping himself busy so he doesn't lose it.

In this headcanon Curt would only be 15 when WWII ends- not old enough to fight, but definitely old enough to have personally known a lot of kids from his hometown who come home in caskets. I just truly think of WWII as a formative experience for both these guys. For Curt it just feeds into that inferiority complex.

Now anybody who has ADHD knows that you already spend a lot of your life feeling inadequate, feeling self-conscious about not being able to be the person other people want you to be (*especially* if you're queer). You get defensive, especially when criticized. You also get restless.

I headcanon Curt as growing up in Abilene, Texas, mostly because I have a friend who grew up there and I've visited and the vibe is right.

I don't know if anybody has ever seen The Last Picture Show, but its a film set in small town Texas in 1951-1952 (so a little late for our timeline but still) and it's (more or less) about two high school seniors essentially trying to escape this suffocatingly small, dying town before they become doomed to spend their lives trapped there.

That's definitely what I think about Agent Mega too- this gay, ADHD teenage boy climbing the walls of this little town, never being able to fully be himself. But he's got a lot of energy (and more than a little anger) to burn off, so he does sports. It's Texas, so football for sure. Maybe wrestling too. Perhaps wrestling is even where he has his gay come to jesus moment.

And when he isn't doing sports, he's home, alone (mama Mega is working so hard), out back drinking a beer (or two, or three) and teaching himself how to shoot. I think he becomes hyperfixated on becoming an expert marksman, because with all of this shit he cannot control, all the stuff he is supposed to be but isn't, this is one area where it feels like he has the power here.

What starts off as "kid drinking beer to feel cool and rebellious" starts to morph into a lifetime dependence on alcohol. Substance use is a big issue for a lot of ADHDers for the same reason I think it would be for Curt- it calms him down. It eases that constant restlessness in his bones. It softens the edges of other people's criticisms of him. It makes him care a bit less what others think about him.

In a vicious cycle, he drinks to avoid feeling those big feelings (especially as a man, especially as a gay man, especially as a gay man in Texas), but the drinking leads to more criticism, which leads to more drinking to numb the emotional response to that criticism.

But his hyperfixation on learning to shoot pays off. Let's say he becomes a junior state champion trapshooter (did I look up trapshooting competitions from the 1940s? yes I did). He's good, especially when he hits the sweet spot of drinking just enough to calm his ass down but not so much that he's useless. Maybe this is how he comes to the attention of the A.S.S.

And he fully believes that these skills he cultivated, the ability to hit hard and run fast and shoot accurately, his ability to escape when it doesn't feel remotely possible, is why many years later he just kinda rolls his eyes at Owen for insisting that they do things carefully and methodically. Careful didn't get him out of small town Texas. Careful didn't get him the exciting non-stop life he has now, a life where he *almost* gets to be himself a lot of the time.

When Owen "dies," and its Curt's fault, he naturally turns to drinking to numb that pain. But its a lot of pain, so it takes a lot of alcohol to kill it.

I'm sure I could go on, but as always I have rambled a lot here so I'm just gonna leave it.

[spookykoolkat]

the red j.m. | chapter one

CHAPTER ONE: STIFF AND COLD

series masterlist | main masterlist | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x younger!plus sized!reader

chapter summary: the life you lived was not the one you wanted, and unfortunately on your journey to absolutely nowhere, you were heroically saved by two men who were far from heroes.

warnings: su*cidal tendencies, thoughts, and actions (attempted su*cide), poor mental health, swearing, mentions of brief violence, MDNI!

wc: 5K

na: omg omg omg omg i'm so excited to share this with everyone. i've been working on this series for about two weeks now, and i'm trying to make sure everything is perfect before i post. thank you guys for ALLLLL the love and support i've gotten it makes me feel so warm inside :P please do nottt be shy! i love feeback, i love the comments and the asks, i'm friendly!!! AND thank you for 100 followers omg my gift to U! please like and reblog and leave your thoughts and comments i love all of it!!! i hope this is good!

YOU

november 15th, 2024

this was fucking impossible. 20 years later. and still, fighting to survive. fighting your way to survive by yourself, losing the people you stuck by, fighting to save people just for them to be taken by the world you lived in. you were pissed, to say the least. and as you trudge through city after city, sleeping and camping in the woods, killing those who were alive and those who weren’t people anymore, you truly wished you were dead. you practically were, it was going to find you sooner or later. death. 

but you accepted it. you knew that this long trail of steps you've taken from texas to where ever you are now, was going to come to an end. but it wasn't ending without a never ending fight you put up for yourself. as long as you were here, you refused to accept defeat and lay down to die.

with all of the silence you had to yourself, you found yourself thinking a lot. you remembered the first day it started, down to the minute, down to what you were wearing. you were only five, five years old when everything came crashing down, literally. you promised yourself that the fear you felt growing up as a child  and having to watch everyone you’ve ever loved be ripped from you, picking up a gun to shoot your first clicker, and picking it up again to kill those who tried to kill you—you wouldn’t experience again. 

so, you avoided civilization. or what FEDRA called civilization. it was bullshit to you. it felt like an excuse for not having anything locked and loaded in a situation like this, and it felt the same as your last government. it was suppression, control, lack of free will. they wanted assimilation and compliance in return for what seemed like a dictatorship ran by none other, those in power. those who were left at least. you'd been trapped inside of a QZ not too far from texas, one with harsh summers and hot winters. you felt like you were in actual hell.

you avoided people, their pleas for help as you traveled by yourself or in groups that never lasted long. the only person that mattered in this world was you, and there was no grace from god that you would find any other family, any other friends—because you had none. you didn't make any, and you were better off for it.

you couldn’t deny that you had days where you wanted to let it go. let all of the survival tactics, the lessons you’ve learned from people you traveled with—let yourself be consumed by the evil of the world.

you also didn’t understand why people, and yourself, fought so hard to live in a world that was worse than the one before. why people fought so hard to live in a world where now, people just take. it was an endless cycle of blood and violence, the only way of survival is by taking. never giving, because when you give, you’re dead. 

but you realized if you didn't fight, if you didn't resort to a bullet to the head, you would die just like the ones around you. you tried to be better than the people that were left. by better you meant not resorting to killing innocent people to survive, but you failed. and so did the rest of the world.

you really didn't know who was innocent and who was guilty. it wasn't black and white. everyone did what they needed to do to survive, and if it meant being the guilty one, then you were okay with that. some people were in the wrong place at the wrong time, fighting for the wrong side, invested in a belief that the world will be good if we are divided.

you refused to take the accountability of taking someone's life. it wasn't your fault. this wasn't what you were made to be doing. you told yourself, but the blood on your hands said otherwise. it was this fucked up cycle that you grew apart of, because if you didn't assimilate you would die. so it got easier to take the lives of people, it was for your own safety.

as you carefully stepped in the snow, nothing but rocks, trees and snow surrounding you, you thought about how this was almost comical to you. how many movies about zombie apocalypses, night of the living dead, were out and you still felt it was impossible. there was no way that the world could turn into ruins within 24 hours, no way that your friends and family turned into vessels, having to die at your hand. this was simply too hard to wrap your head around, even being almost 26 years old now. you truly didn’t know how you made it this long, how you were able to keep up and fight despite everything–even down to the way you were shaped.

you were five when it happened, not knowing what the concept of anything really was. and as you got older— you did what you could to make surviving the easiest for you, rummaging through empty yet not so empty malls to find a decent sports bra, taking feminine hygiene needs and making sure your clothes fit loose/tight enough for your benefit. you learned as you lived, and you didn’t have much around you to learn from. you imagined being a woman in the real world was less difficult than this, but realized that life as a woman has never been easy. just made it more real in the apocalypse.

the violence, the danger, the belief towards women just got worse. you were at risk just existing, and the infected that walked amongst you weren't the only danger of humanity. you knew that you'd die by the hands of your fellow person, a clicker, or hunger. it was only a matter of time.

it wasn’t until you heard the sounds of the devilish creatures screech in a distance that you shook back to your reality. it was way too dark, snow falling too fast to see clearly, only using your ability of sight and precision to protect yourself. your gun felt light in your hand as you squeezed, finger lightly over the trigger as you reminded yourself of quietness. you knew you should’ve stayed back, waited until the sun was out to at least search for safety. but you knew you wouldn’t make it, the stab wound was lodged deep in your abdomen. you held the wound tight hoping to stop the bleeding, bit it was too much, too deep.

you realized the time you took to reflect back on your life and stolen childhood, it was your life flashing before your eyes. 

you truly didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know how you got there, and you knew this might be your last night. here you were in the midst of snow and darkness, and you felt yourself losing hope. what were you fighting for exactly? you were tired. you fled from your safe space miles back, and you fled from the place before that, and before that. all you knew was that your stomach was crying to be fed and fixed up, your throat was dry with nothing but a lick of spit, and while you made your way closer towards the sound of a river you noticed that the sound of clickers sounded more distant.

there was no pain in your stomach anymore, it was a throbbing dullness now and you felt the tips of your fingers tingling, becoming frozen around your gun. you weren’t sure if it was because your ears began to ring and your vision started blacking out on the edges, but you felt sick. 

before you could even register that you were going down, you fell into the hard snow and accepted the fact that this was it. and it was okay. you sunk into the darkness, feeling warm all around now, and allowed it. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

tommy and joel were on their patrol route around the commune when they heard the sound of screeching, possibly heading the other way. it was late when maria told tommy there was a wire tripped right outside of the commune, needing him and joel to take a patrol shift at eleven at night instead of the two rookies that were on it. 

“they ain’t gonna come over here,” tommy reassured, mostly for himself after hearing the screeches of distant infected.

“right,” joel sarcastically agreed, keeping his rifle aimed and ready for anything and anyone to jump out at him or tommy. joel kept following the trail he remembered following himself, wanting to make sure there wasn’t anything going on without his knowledge of it. 

joel was tired, to be frank. but the minute he heard there was a threat around the area, he didn't waste time to gear up and tell ellie to stay inside while he's gone. now, he and tommy were searching for something, anything that could be the cause of maria's concern.

they walked around a little more, searching the ground area and looking within the trees, finding nothing but a few deer and elk. 

“joel!” tommy yelled out. 

joel stopped in his tracks, tightening the grip on his rifle and immediately following his brother’s panicked voice. 

“joel! c’mere man, holy fuck,” tommy shouted, sending joels heart racing and making him speed up, passing by trees and large rocks to get to him.

“where are ya?” he shouted panicked, and as tommy said ‘over here,’ joel followed his voice, the only thing he could hear being the crunch of the snow. finally, he made it towards the river where tommy was kneeling down before something, something that looked like a body. 

“look man, we gotta take her back,” tommy said, checking her pulse and setting his gun down. joel just shook his head, looking at the small pool of blood that trailed from the woman's abdomen in the snow.

“she’s dead. if she’s been out here for however long, she’s gone. ain’t worth it.” he gruffly said, pointing his rifle at the body instead. 

“joel her heart is beatin’, i can feel her pulse. we gotta take her,” tommy said and joel felt himself grow angry. 

“it ain’t worth it.” he said once again and tommy shook his head, moving to flip your body over to see your face.

tommy swiftly moved your backpack and gun out of the way, and saw how blue your face was. your lips were practically purple, and your body was freezing cold, stiff. both the men's eyes trailed to the blood soaked white shirt that clung to your body, the injury deep and wide. but tommy saw the shallow breaths, he saw your chest stutter as it tried to rise and fall. 

“she’s just a kid, joel,” he said.

he was right. joel was fifty seven, and tommy was nearing his late forties and he could tell you weren’t older than thirty. why should it matter? he wanted to say, but he knew. his own lack of trust makes him take a bit to decide. what if it’s a trap? what if she got bit? then she wouldn’t be cold and frozen, idiot. what if this is just a distraction? from what! joel’s inner thoughts fighting with each other, fighting with his gut and finally closed his eyes hard before opening them back up.

“fuck,” he sighed and moved his rifle to sit on his shoulder, going to tommy and deciding to just pick your body up and carry you bridal style. 

tommy saw joel was angry, already knowing the thoughts in his mind saying she wasn't worth it, the girl's practically dead.

“go,” joel demanded and began to follow him as tommy protected the both of you. he didn’t know if this was a good idea. if taking you in and disrupting the course of nature was the best idea. just another mouth to feed. he thought to himself. if you even survived this. he knew he was cold hearted, he knew he wasn’t close to being a good person. 

joel couldn’t help it. he was selfish, he was hard headed, and he was cold. children, women, animals, it got to a point where it was all the same to him. if you were gone, you were gone. he’d killed so many clickers who posed themselves as children, so many women who weren’t women anymore, families even. he was desensitized in the worst way and even though it benefited him and helped keep him alive for twenty years, it was his biggest downfall. 

a little bit of him wished he was softer. more inviting, more trusting but in what fucking world? this was always a world of hate, he thought. a world of pain and despair, and it was only a matter of time before it turned into some sort of hell. 

and as he carried you in your arms, limp and blue, he wondered if you were even going to make it. what was the point of trudging through all of this snow for a dead body? he didn’t have much hope for anything else, for anything but his and ellie’s survival. and as you soaked his shirt with blood, he highly doubted there was a chance you'd live. maybe it was for the best.

joel was just so angry. this was not what he wanted to find. he did not want to be responsible for another person, one who seemed like she didn't even put up a fight. had she walked thirty more feet she would've made it. he thought.

the thing about joel is that the things that softened everyone else up, just made him irritated. even the fact that ellie opened him up as much as she did, he even wanted to resent her for it. but he couldn’t, because to him he could never blame ellie for anything. she was just a kid. but she gave him something to fight for, gave him hope again in a world where hope was seen as childish, naive. he couldn’t resent her for that. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

was this life after death? you knew your eyes were closed, but you didn’t know how you were still conscious. until you heard the sounds of beeping and heart monitors, you believed you had found purgatory. you wanted to smile, and it creeped on your lips until you heard the noises of what sounded like people shuffling around and immediately you shot up with your eyes wide. 

you were running on pure adrenaline. where am i? what the fuck? where is my gun? who the fuck are these people?

you looked around the room to see a woman, a man and another child  in  the beds, the woman was pregnant, the child was coughing into their arm. but it wasn’t until you looked right next to you to see a man with a mustache and a woman with locs standing closer to your hospital bed. 

“where the fuck is my shit?” you asked harshly, pulling the IV out of your arm and detaching any other wires on your body. 

“no, no honey don’t do that,” the woman said as she tried to step closer to you, and as you were going to defend yourself from her touch, you looked down and saw the swollen belly in all her vulnerability. so all you did was scoot further back into your bed, not wanting to get violent. that's a first.

“where is my gun?” you asked, looking around at the makeshift infirmary that was stocked with everything you could possibly need. 

“we have it. just for right now, you can have everything back just, who are you? was there anyone else with you? do you work for anyone?” the man said swiftly.

you just laughed breathlessly, looking down at the fact that you were naked in a hospital gown but feeling the sharp pain of the wound you remembered, now wrapped with gauze around your abdomen.

“i don’t have to tell you a fuckin’ thing,” you said shaking your head. 

“just let me go. i wanna go.” you couldn’t help but feel scared. the same fear that rattled you as a kid. you couldn't even meet their eyes. you forgot how to talk to people really.

“look, we can help you. i’m tommy, this is my wife maria. she managed and built a space for us to live with the help of her community, our community,  without the threat of those ugly fuckin’ things. you’re here in jackson, wyoming. it’s a safe community.” he said and you looked between the two. wyoming?

“we don’t take kindly to strangers, dear. and you happened upon an area that was real close to our commune, tommy and his brother found you, almost dead, bleeding to death.” maria said as she sat down on the other side of the bed, you just watched her. 

“why didn’t you just leave me?” you asked, weakly. you felt so powerless. so bare. no gun, no knife, no protection. 

“i told ya,” a gruff voice said, making your eyes search the room to see a broad dark figure walking to the edge of your bed. your eyebrows knit together at him and looked away quickly.

“what were you doin’ out there anyway?” tommy asked and you shook your head, looking down at your hands. 

“how long have i been here?” you ignored his question and tommy looked between maria and the man at the foot of your bed, who watched you closely. 

“a week.” you whipped your head to maria, asking with your eyes if she was serious. 

“you were taking your last breaths when they found you. you were so frozen, so stiff we didn’t really think you’d make it past that night. but, we managed to warm you up and put a feeding tube through your nose, stitch you up, hoping for the best. we weren’t sure you’d wake up.” maria informed and you ran your fingers through your hair, suddenly tired. 

“i need to go.” you whispered. 

“go where? is there someone you’re meetin’ or waitin’ on?” tommy asked. joel was silent, watching the exchange between everyone. but his eyes never leaving your figure. he looked at you like he didn't trust you, th same way you looked at all three of them.

“are you just gonna stare at me like a fuckin’ asshole or what?” you spit, looking at the man who was staring at you and glaring at him. he was making you so angry for some odd reason, not understanding why he’s just staring and not talking. 

“no. i’m not meeting no one. i don’t work for anyone. i don’t even remember where i was last before coming up here. i knew i wasn’t gonna make it.” you confessed and the three of them looked between each other. 

“you were alone?” maria asked, getting closer. you were so tired, so drained all of the sudden. 

“been that way since 2012.” you said.

“how old are you?” joel asked finally, his arms crossed against his chest. 

“i’m twenty five.” you said reluctantly and tommy shook his head, looking at maria. tommy was right. you were just a kid. 

“how long before i can leave?” you asked.

“i want you to stay,” she said and joel looked at her sideways. this wasn’t like maria, or tommy actually. joel wondered if this was putting everything at risk, if taking you in like a lost kitten was going to jeopardize everything. 

“you don’t trust us. that’s fine. you don’t want to stay? that’s fine. but letting you go back out there right now is suicide, and you know it. stay for a few weeks, or even a week. everyone deserves a home and a community, especially now. let me help you.” maria pleaded.

she didn’t know exactly why she felt so strongly about you, why she was okay with letting everyone else be denied and dumped from this place. even killed if they didn't leave fast enough. maybe it was her pregnancy, but she felt enough compassion to compensate for all three of you.

she sensed a sadness in you. everyone carried themselves in sadness, regret, guilt. but maria had never seen it so darkly, and she’s been around joel. she knew you could protect yourself out there, that’s not why it was suicide to go back in the open. it was suicide because she knew that’s what you wanted. she knew because she’s been there before. 

“why? what for? i’m just another mouth to feed, another person to take care of. it’s better if i’m on my own.” joel wanted to laugh honestly. he said the exact same thing, and honestly felt the exact same way. he understood where you were coming from, he saw the pain in your face, the eagerness to stand alone even if it killed you. 

“the more the merrier.” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

you finally got your things back, but not how you remembered and when joel threw the backpack on your hospital bed, you glared at him. 

“where’s my walkman?” you asked and he raised his eyebrow. 

“your walkman? it’s 2024,” joel said as a joke and you glared at him, fisting the fabric of your backpack. 

“where is it?” you asked again and he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. 

“it was broken, guess you landed on it or somethin’. maria took it down to get it fixed.” you looked down at your bag again and noticed your knife, ammo, and a smaller gun was still in there as well as cassettes that belonged to your mother, empty water bottles, tampons, and matches. you decided to get off the bed, leaving your backpack there and searching the room that was lined with hospital beds. 

“where are my clothes?” you asked him and he nodded to the shelf above the bed, and you sighed.

without missing a beat you swiftly got on the bed and stood up to grab the clothes, not the ones you came in but new ones, duller ones. it was a faded red t-shirt with some university logo, a black sports bra, black underwear and dark brown cargo jeans that were big enough to fit you. 

“can you close the curtain?” you asked, and he stepped back before closing it and letting you be in your own privacy to change. but you saw his shadow under the curtain, still standing there. 

“you don’t have to babysit me. i’m not gonna kill anyone.” you said as you removed the gown and slid on the undergarments quickly. 

“you think i want to? got a lot of other things to do, maria put you on suicide watch.” he said from behind the curtain, facing all the other beds and the exit. you scoffed and slid the shirt over your body, a little snug but good enough for you. 

you pulled the curtains away from you, grabbing your backpack and heading to the door that kept you. 

“where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked as he followed you, grabbing your wrist. 

“don’t fucking touch me, are you crazy?!” you asked and took the gun from your waistband, pointing it at him after cocking the hammer. 

“get your gun out of my face,” he seethed, letting your wrist go and staring at you with his hands at his side. 

“just let me go, don’t say nothin’ to them, let me be on my way. it’s what i want, and i know it’s what you want too.” you said and slowly backed away from him, watching him as carefully as he watched you. 

“i can’t let you do that,” he said.

you felt hopeless. like you were stuck there and even as you tried to back into the door, it wouldn’t budge. 

“fuck!” you screamed and used the back of your hand that was gripping the gun to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“don’t do anythin’ stupid, just wait for maria. don’t do nothin’,” he warned and you shook your head. 

“or what?! you’ll kill me? here,” you said and cocked your gun again after letting the hammer go back into place, raising it to your temple. “i’ll fuckin’ do it for you. i’m dead anyways! i can’t leave, you’re keepin’ me here, what’s the fucking point!” 

for the first time in a while, joel felt his heart beat pick up in anxiety. he was nervous, a feeling he'd only had a few times in his life. not only because you were threatening to scatter your brains everywhere, but because you were doing it in front of three other patients, one pregnant, one child and one in a coma. not only will you traumatize him, but everyone around you and he can’t let you do that.

but a part of him feels for you. because he knows what that feeling was like. to put a gun to your own head and pull the trigger, only it didn’t seem like you’d flinch like he did when you pulled the trigger. you weren’t scared to die, he felt it. you pull the trigger and you’re dead.

joel had his hands up to you, suddenly wanting to take some of that anger and pain from you. you were nine to ten years old when you were forced to be a killer, and he knew it took so much away from you. you were desperate, you were tired, and he understood, for once in his life the sincerity and empathy was present. It was a weird feeling for him, to not want you here but to also want to make sure you’re safe from yourself.

he felt responsible now.

“give me the gun,” he said, stepping closer and closer to you as your finger danced on the trigger. you didn’t acknowledge the crying child, or the expecting mother clutching on to her belly. your eyes were on joels, turning from hard and angry to soft, worried, almost afraid. 

“i want to go,” you choked, tears streaming down your face as you pressed into the unwilling door. 

“go where? there is no where to go. i reckon your family is gone? hometown gone?” he said, his hands in surrender. 

“i shouldn’t be here.” he knew you weren’t talking about jackson. his heart twinged at it, it reminded him too much of when he and ellie witnessed the same thing a year back. he couldn't let it this happen again under his watch.

he saw your hand fall a bit weak, the barrel of the gun sliding on your temple. watching your every movement he stepped closer, and closer—until he was somewhat right in front of you. he figured if you wanted to kill yourself, you wouldn't have thought twice about pulling the trigger, you were unsure, he could tell. he took the opportunity to get as close as you allowed.

“you ain’t gotta trust us. trust is earned. but i can promise you that these folks won’t let anythin’ happen to ya,” he said, “i know what it’s like, i was you. couldn’t trust not a damn person, killed anyone i had to. i’ve lost too. but i found somethin’ worth fightin’ for.” 

you just listened. you wanted to fight him on it, you wanted to ignore everything he said and just pull the trigger. you felt it was destined, you couldn’t fight anymore, you didn’t want to. you kept the gun at your temple, and in the silence between the two of you, you hear an immediate worried and frantic ‘what are you doing’ from maria and tommy behind him. you couldn't take your eyes off of joel.

the grip on your gun just gets tighter, and joel notices. he shakes his head fast.

“stop! stay right there.” he said and held up a hand to them, still having his eyes on you. 

“i’m tired of fightin’,” he heard your slight texan accent, coming out more in the light of your crying.

maybe it was ellie, maybe it was him still mourning sarah, and all the women he failed. but he felt something in his throat tighten, watching you so vulnerable like this and he doesn’t even know you. he didn’t know why this was so different for him. he’s seen people do this, seen people want to fall off the edge. and for some reason, he can’t fail you. he can’t let you take your life. 

“if you stay here, you ain’t gotta fight by yourself no more. you ain’t alone out here,” joel said and reached slow to your hand. 

“let me help you, please,” you heard the honesty in his voice, how he was practicing pleading for you to put it down.

your eyes kept searching his as you took your lip between your teeth, streams pouring down your face. you let him grab the gun, click the safety on and put it in his waistband. and as you stood there, silently crying and staring into his eyes asking for help, asking for comfort—he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t simply wrap his arms around you to let you fall apart for a minute, he wouldn’t let himself. 

he was like stone, and even though he talked you off a ledge, his heart wouldn't open the way you needed right now. he was going to tell you to leave, to take it somewhere else because now you couldn't be trusted alone. he was angry now. the fact that you did that in front of not only him but a child, he thought you were selfish. but he couldn't blame you.

he knew something was off with you. he saw how this world chewed people up and spit them out, sometimes swallowing them whole. he knew what it did to people, turning them into monsters themselves or people too weak to fight. to him, you weren't the monster.

he was.

maria ran past joel even being five months pregnant, and took you in her arms once she got to you. but your eyes could never leave joels, you were stuck. you were out of it, out of your mind, almost out of your body. you didn’t want this life, and you didn’t want to be around strangers. for once, in a long fucking time, you were scared. 

[himehomu]

Homura did nothing wrong. And I stand by that. Because, she didn't do anything wrong towards anyone nor did she do anything with malicious intent. The only thing she did wrong is entirely in regards to herself. Rather than basing Homura's entire character around an act she made out of love or reduce her character to an evildoer with no morals nor love in her heart like some people still do to this day under the poor facade of “valid criticism,” I'm going to explain what Homura actually did wrong in Rebellion and her what her act of selfishness actually was.

What Homura did wrong was condemn herself to suffering as an immortal deity, the Devil whom acts as a rebellion against God, The Law of Cycles, strict laws of the original universe, which included Madoka Kaname not existing. That is what she did wrong, but not in the black and white, Good-vs-Evil way most people interpret this as. Yes, they are meant to be enemies one day, but because God favors rules and always doing the right thing, whereas the Devil favors her desire to stay in a world where Madoka is happy, where her friends are happy, where they are safe and have a chance at a life. A desire for happiness vs maintaining order of a broken world for the greater good, even if maintaining order means making sacrifices and making hard choices that directly rebel against that desire and yearning for happiness.

But, here is why Homura is wrong in dooming herself to her fate as the Devil. It's very subtle, but seconds before the Flower Field scene, as they are walking, Madoka turns and tells Homura that it really hurts her seeing her in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it. This may seem like a simple thing a friend would say, but remember that Madoka lost her memories as a goddess. And, as a goddess, she was stuck alone in Heaven having to watch life go by, Homura's life go by, and wasn't able to interfere. Think about that for a second. Think about being Madokami.

Think about when she could finally understand just how much Homura did for her, just how much Homura fought for her in all those time loops; the moment she's able to reciprocate her feelings, she fades from existence as the consequence. Wanting so badly to comfort Homura as she bears the psychological burden of being the only person to remember her, to know her, to miss her, to grieve and mourn her. Thinking the only time she’ll ever be able to see let alone talk to Homura again is when she’s essentially dying from all the grief, the pain, the guilt, the sadness of not being able to save her from her fate of being a goddess trapped in isolation. Think about that, then look at what she says here again. Of course it hurts Madoka seeing Homura hurting so badly and feeling powerless to do anything about it. Because that's what she's been doing as The Law of Cycles. Much like how she said she'd never make the decision to become a Goddess in the first place a few seconds later, she says this because this is the real Madoka who loves and cherishes Homura, who hates to see her hurt.

Take that into consideration when looking at what Homura turns herself into at the end of Rebellion, how she's suffering and you can see the exhaustion on her face and in her eyes, how you can see the immortality essentially sucking the humanity out of her to the point where she herself believes she is evil. This was never about Good vs. Evil. This is about Homura hating herself so much not only for being unable to save Madoka, but possibly even for loving her in the first place considering her love is what made her powerful enough to condemn herself to her fate as a Goddess trapped in Heaven with her wish. This is about Madoka hating herself so much to where she only deems herself worthy so long as she's helping others, her self-loathing making her reduce herself to a sacrificial lamb and throwing away her life for the better of everyone else, caring so little for herself and being unable to even fathom that she'd be mourned or grieved if she were to die, thus sacrificing herself over and over, seeing herself as a means to an end if it means freedom for everyone she loves. Madoka has always been there to comfort Homura and protect her since the first timeline. How can she do that if her memories and powers to do so are locked away? She can't. Because Homura doesn't believe she deserves Madoka's love.

Homura doesn't believe she's worth Madoka's sacrifice in becoming a God and Madoka doesn't believe she's worth Homura's sacrifice in becoming the Devil. Madoka cannot understand that she is so so much more than what she can give to other people whilst Homura is the only one that does. Homura can't understand that dooming herself to immortality pains and hurts Madoka because she can't do anything about it thus she can't save her from her suffering like how Homura ceased her suffering. It's a cycle. A snake eating it's own tail. A pumpkin that spins round and round and round. They're both selfish and they're both selfless. Homura is selfish in the sense that she's not taking into consideration how Madoka would feel if she knew how much she were suffering as the Devil for her sake yet she is being selfless because she's only suffering as the Devil for Madoka and her family and their friends to have a happy life. Madoka is selfish in the same sense that she's not taking into consideration just how psychologically damaging it is for Homura to not only have to watch her die over and over again throughout 100 timelines but to then erase herself from existence with Homura being the only one to remember her and she is selfless by of course only sacrificing herself so much because she cares for everyone and all Magical Girls, Homura especially included. They both love each other enough to sacrifice themselves for the other but they both hate themselves so much to where they believe they are undeserving of the other's love hence they keep dooming themselves to suffering in isolation and in turn dooming each other.

[viceconnor21]

Soul Keeper Aka Mumza (Kristin)

Minecraft x My Little Pony AU

Personality traits (short version):

Goddess of Death

Guides souls to the correct afterlife

physical form stuck in the dimension between life and death (the void/her kingdom)

wants to help the souls stuck in limbo, trapped in prisons of their minds where even she can't reach them but is not always successful, as the souls can only help themselves

motherly love for all living things

related to the Goddesses of the sun, moon, and sun.

ancient being

bat pony

time is relative (no day and night cycle)

Loving husband visits her in his dreams

She likes to make him tea

giant lady

when seen in the overworld, it is only part of her consciousness

fell in love with Crow for his kind heart

Husband- Crow Keeper Youngest son/only bio child- Tripwire Middle son- Day Shaker oldest son- Note Weaver/ Final Sonata Frienemy- Anarchy Reign (the God of War)

Backstory: Soul loved her job. How could she not, being a Goddess did have certain advantages. Though she did miss the sun and does get lonely from time to time. Unlike her cousins, the Goddesses of the Sun and the Moon, she could not spend her time in the mortal realm, instead stuck in the place between life and death. Not the overworld nor the netherworld. And still, the purple light of the Kingdom of Limbo still brought her down some days. Today especially, she could not get the wailing of the lost souls out of her skull. It wasn’t like there were thousands of lost souls in limbo. She wouldn’t be a good Death Goddess if there was. But sometimes she was unable to reach a soul after death. It was rare but for unknown reasons, sometimes no matter what she tried the soul was trapped, isolated in that unbreakable prison. Truly a fate worse than death. Other times, no matter how long she followed the cries, she could never find them. And well, creatures were always dying and it was her job to lead them through limbo. She was just glad she was not one of the ones who judged souls. That was too much pressure. In her eyes, a life a life, and a soul a soul. However, she still played the most important role in the afterlife. Just getting some souls through limbo could be a struggle. There were plenty of creatures and demons that would love to snack on an unprotected soul. And she took pride in her job. However, the business of death was not always pure and wholesome, and “circle of life” crap. It could be hard on her motherly heart. On days like this, after her shift of guiding the souls to their respective afterlives, she just needed a break. She trotted down to the banks of the Styx. The inky black water shimmered and reflected the purple and green light of the large luminous gems and crystals growing out of the ground and from the cliffs. Soul Keeper was grateful that a portion of the Styx’s warm waters ran through her territory. She specially built her castle on this cliffside so it was only a short walk to a cozy blend in the river. She waded into the water, and let the water ease the tension in her shoulders. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, her job could be difficult but tonight in only a couple of hours she had a date with her husband. While he was in the mortal realm, under the right conditions, he could visit her realm in his sleep. Tonight is one of those nights. Even better still, it was their anniversary and She could not wait to see his smiling face.

Soul Keeper is the six-winged Alicorn Goddess of Death. She guides the souls of the dead from the living plane to their final rest in the underworld. She is a caring being that does what she can to make the transition for the spirit easier. He also protects the spirit against harm in limbo. Legends tell of a ghostly vision that can be seen after a deadly battle or disaster of a terrifying yet motherly specter dressed in purple and gold.

Many mortal creatures know of the tender being that guides you to the afterlife but don’t actually know who she is. That is all except the hippogriff, Crow Keeper, who is in fact married to the Goddess.

Crow and Soul do not exist in the same realm. Crow can see and speak to his love only in his dreams or sometimes in a meditative state. She can send messages to him through the birds that follow Crow Keeper around. When Crow married his wife he became immortal to the point where he does not age and illness can’t seek him. However, Crow can still die by accident or injury. When he does, Soul Keeper will finally embrace him and they will rule limbo together.

In addition, in her truest form, she is a giant goddess with immense power, however, she usually appears to souls only slightly larger on average. She likes to take on the role of maternal figure to the lonely. When not guiding new souls through limbo, she spends her time searching for lost souls in her kingdom. Sometimes she is successful and can free them from their personal hellscape to bring them to the proper afterlife. Souls that become unreachable by the goddess usually experience a traumatizing action upon death or through dark actions in life that corrupts the spirit. The soul can sometimes recover while others do not. Soul Keeper weeps for those she cannot save.

Soul Keeper thinks it is funny that no creature believes her husband about her existence. Crow Keeper is constantly trying to find a way for Soul to enter the living realm. So far, however, Crow has only found a complex ritual that allows Soul to visit the mortal realm by possessing his body.

The God of War, Anarchy Reign, also knows the Goddess personally but Crow doesn’t know that.

P.s. If you made it this far- I did make this design last year, but I am not looking to redesign this one. In addition, I'm not a writer so I apologize for grammar or spelling errors.

[aylacavebear]

The Curse That Changed Your Life - Part 2 Chapter 4

With the witch taken care of, your hopes of being human gone, and dealing with sensations and emotions you hadn't before, life didn't seem like it was going to get much better. How would he look at you in the morning after what you'd said to him? What would you do after this? What would the next month hold, and how much like a cat were you? There were far too many questions you didn't have answers to and didn't want to ask. Would you find any answers in the month to come? Only time would tell.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 3234

Warnings: Angst, Dean being Dean, Charlie being a good friend, preparing for upcoming cycle, reader being hard on herself. Not really much for this one.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4

Another week passed, and you found solace in the mundane tasks that filled your days. Reading through books, cleaning things that needed attention, and even cooking. Yet, your thoughts were still a turbulent sea, trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and diminished hope. The realization hit you like a wave when the beginning of another week started: Dean had made a move. That same day, the two of you spent hours talking.

So here you were, cleaning the bathroom to get out your guilt for how you’d reacted. It was easier than moping around in your room or attempting to be around any of the others. Sure, there had been flirting back and forth since then, but that was all it had been. You knew so many things could have gone differently had you not reacted like you had. In your defense, you had no idea how sensitive that spot really was.

How do I fix this?

It was the one question that kept plaguing your mind. Somehow, you thought it was all your fault as to why things had ended up going the way they had. You also thought that perhaps he saw you as some weak thing that needed protecting and that if something happened to you, it’d be his fault. You knew you weren’t weak, but you had no idea how to prove that to him.

As you started on the toilet, you got an idea. It was probably a stupid idea, but it was an idea nonetheless. Implementing it would be the problem, as Dean had seemed to be avoiding you. He had also barely spoken to you since he’d confessed his worry. 

You kept trying to dig deeper into the words he’d said. There had to be a deeper meaning to it all, but it kept eluding you. You wondered if he didn’t trust you, but if he didn’t, then why would he share something so personal with you? You sighed as you stood, finally finished with the toilet, and the bathroom was cleaner than it had been.

At least it had kept you mostly distracted for a while. You just weren’t sure what you’d do next in the way of distracting yourself. First, you were going to start with taking a shower. Since you’d cleaned it, you figured you would get the first shower in it.

On your way to your room, you heard the brothers talking in the library. You typically didn’t eavesdrop on anyone, but it made you curious since you hadn’t heard anyone else. You crept close enough to hear them while still staying well out of sight unless someone actually came down the hallway.

“I swear, Dean. I still don’t get why you refuse to let yourself have a small piece of happiness with her,” Sam told his brother, sounding annoyed.

“I can’t risk putting her in that much more danger. A mons-” Dean attempted to argue, but Sam cut him off.

“She’s cursed. She’s already in danger. What do you think some sick monster would do to her, given her appearance? Honestly? She’s probably safer with you. I’m sure she could defend herself if she had to. So, again, what the hell?” Sam pushed, sounding more and more frustrated as he spoke. 

For a bit, you didn’t hear anything and wondered if perhaps the argument was over, but then Dean spoke up, and his words surprised you again.

“I can’t lose her, Sam. If we’re closer than we are now… I don’t know how I’d survive without her if something happened to her,” Dean admitted quietly, and you heard the fear in his words.

“So, teach her about it all. Help her keep herself safe when none of us are around. This bunker won’t keep everything out. It’s only warded against so much,” Sam explained, and you thought his tone had gotten softer, but he was still frustrated. 

You wanted to keep listening but couldn’t bring yourself to stay there. That mix of pain and anger began moving its way through your nerves again. So, to your room, it was. You grabbed what you needed for after your shower, then headed back to the bathroom you’d just spent the last two hours cleaning.

While showering, you realized that you’d been there nearly two months, and your next cycle would be hitting near the end of the week. You weren’t looking forward to this one, especially with what had happened during the last one. A motel room was looking awfully appealing at this point. At least you’d be alone, completely.

Dragging your feet now, no matter how nice the shower had felt, you dried and dressed, then brushed your hair. Half the day was already gone, and you’d managed to stay busy. Now, though, you had no idea what you’d fill your time with. You weren’t even paying attention as you made your way down the hallway toward your room to toss your dirty clothes in the laundry pile.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked you, only a few feet down the hall from you.

“Huh? Oh, nothin’,” you replied with a sigh, almost to your door.

“Bull. Something’s bothering you,” he pushed, gently, but still. He could see how droopy your ears were, and your tail wasn’t moving much at all.

You shrugged your shoulders, tossed your laundry in your room, and began making your way to find something to do. Sam, however, was having none of it.

“Y/N, seriously, what the hell is wrong? Did Dean say something stupid?” he asked, trying not to get annoyed at his brother, even if he didn’t know what was going on.

Now you looked up at him, puzzled, “No. Dean hasn’t said more than a few words to me in almost a week, I think.”

That, for some reason, at least to you, seemed to aggravate him, “God, my brother is an idiot.”

He’d said it more to the ceiling than to you, and it was more of a grumble than anything else. You just watched Sam, still puzzled, as he turned away from you and went back the way he’d come. Shrugging it off, something else hit you. You hadn’t been outside in nearly two months either. 

Perhaps I’ve got cabin fever? 

You slipped into your room, put on some socks and shoes, added cotton to your ears, and headed to the war room. The brothers were in the library, talking, but had stopped the moment they’d heard you. You didn’t look over at them; you just headed up the stairs toward the door. When the brothers heard the first door open, both of them were in the war room, looking up at you.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, confused.

“I was just gonna go get some fresh air. I haven’t been outside since I got here. Thought it might help me feel better,” you replied, leaning on the railing and looking down at them.

It wasn’t like anyone would see you, so you hadn’t bothered hiding your ears or tail. The place was far enough into the forest that people didn’t come out this way. 

“Somebody should go with you,” Sam added, worried something might happen. Dean stayed quiet and you noticed how his jaw was clenched. It was things like that, that bothered you. He’d been so playful, teasing, flirty, and seemed interested in you from day one, but now it was like he wanted nothing to do with you.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Sam. I have my phone if you need to reach me,” you told him plainly. Then, you turned away from them and headed outside, not giving either of them a chance to respond.

The biggest downside of living in a bunker, underground, there were no windows to tell the time of day, weather, or time of year. So, when you stepped outside and were met with dark clouds, a chilly wind, and huge raindrops that felt like they’d been in a fridge, it only added to your already deteriorating mood. Grumbling, you went back inside, only slightly damp.

“Be glad you didn’t go with me,” you grumbled, then headed into the kitchen for something to snack on.

Even with the mood Dean was in, he chuckled a little, which you heard, and it sent that mix of anger and sadness through your nerves. Shuffling through the freezer, you found the ice cream hiding in the back. Everyone knew it was hiding back there and pretended they didn’t. Typically, you would have stayed out of it but needed comfort food.

After grabbing a spoon from the drawer, you sat at the table, the container in front of you, not even bothering to get a bowl. Things almost felt more depressing than when you’d been on your own and had to dance at the club, but at least then, you had something to occupy most of your time. For now, you enjoyed the ice cream in the silence around you. With the cotton balls, you could hear things like a normal person did, and the brothers were clearly keeping their voices down.

Next time, I’ll check the weather.

That thought made you pull your phone from your pocket and set it on the table. You tapped the little weather symbol and looked at the following week while eating another bite of ice cream. Realizing that it would be snowing by the end of the week, you grumbled a little. 

How did the time go by so quickly? Guess that’s what happens when you never see the outside world on a regular basis.

The days had blended together for you, so when you saw the date on your phone, your ears drooped lower than they already had. It was mid-November already. Thanksgiving was coming soon, and Halloween had already passed. It made you wonder if any of them celebrated any holidays, but you weren’t in the mood to ask. It was just one more thing to make your situation feel that much worse, and you went right back to the ice cream, turning off your phone.

With half the container now gone, you slipped it back to its hiding place in the freezer, then headed back out to the war room. The others were there now, but your mind was still in its downward spiral, so you headed toward your room, even if there had seemed to be a lighthearted nature to their conversation. You didn’t want your mood to end up affecting any of them. Lying in your darkened room, the door closed, cuddled up in a ball on your bed, you cried. You’d come to terms with the curse not long after it had happened, even finding a way to live with it. Now, though, you’d had your hopes lifted far too much in the last almost two months, only to have it plummet. You thought perhaps there was something there with Dean that might be worthwhile, but as of late, he’d barely spoken to you.

There was also the witch and possibly breaking the curse, but that had been a loss as well. Yeah, you’d made a few new friends, but you still felt like the outsider in the bunch. You weren’t a hunter, not like they were. And Cas, well, Cas was an angel. 

And now the holidays were on you, one of your childhood favorites in only a month and a half. You had a private celebration for yourself when you lived alone after the curse, but now you lived with people. They’d know if you left and brought back Christmas decorations, even if it was just to put up in your room. Then you figured things would just get weird with them. 

Right now, your entire world felt as though it had collapsed in on itself, again. Hope can do that to you, if you let it get doused too many times. This almost felt like rock bottom for you. And, to top it off, your cycle was due to start soon. The need for comfort food and your emotions being out of whack was your first indicator.

I don’t want to start in a few days, though.

Something you’d had to learn since the curse, was how your cycle worked and the little hints it gave you as to how far away it was. Being in the sea of emotions you were, it had been difficult to pay attention to those little details. There was the push to clean, your feelings being out of your control, the craving for certain foods, the pull to wander, and the need to be close to people. 

They were easy things to overlook when considering what you were going through at the moment. Usually, depending on how severe those were, would tell you how many days you had before it would hit you. You let yourself cry for a little while longer before deciding laundry would take up the next few hours. At least this way, you’d only have a small load after your cycle was over.

With your ears still drooping and your tail pretty much still, you gathered your bedding first, then headed toward the laundry room. The others, at least most of them, were still in the library. Thankfully, the cotton balls kept their conversations from reaching your ears. You also didn’t hear Charlie begin to follow you as you made your way down the opposite hallway.

You loaded up the washer with the first load, then sat down on the bottom step, elbows on your knees, face resting in your palms, utterly depressed at the moment. 

“Hey, I’d ask if you’re okay, but it’s clear you aren’t. So, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked in that quiet, concerned tone she’d used with you before. 

“Life sucks, that’s all,” you grumbled as she sat down next to you.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked, just trying to be a friend that you really needed.

You glanced at her momentarily, then let your gaze fall on the washer again, even if you weren’t really looking at it. It took her a little more coaxing, but you finally let it all out, everything from your last cycle to what you were going through now. She had even started rubbing your back, attempting to comfort you the best she could. By the end of it, you were in tears, and she was hugging you as you cried on her shoulder.

She glanced past you, up the stairs, at Dean and Sam, who were standing near the door she’d left open. Neither of the brothers said anything, though, but they’d heard it all. Charlie knew something had been going on and that it had to do with more than just Dean. She had orchestrated ensuring both brothers would know, as she only wanted to help you. The two of them silently walked away, not wanting to startle you if you realized they had been there. 

Charlie sat there, just holding you for a bit as she formulated her thoughts, “Do you really want a motel room for your next cycle? I could set that up and stay nearby so you won’t be completely alone.”

“Hard to know what I want when I feel like this, and I don’t want to do something stupid either,” you half mumbled, half grumbled against her shoulder.

Again, she thought about a solution. It didn’t take long for her to come up with one, but she wasn’t going to tell you all of it, knowing it would be too much. “How about this? We’ll get you set up in a different room, far away from Dean or Sam but near one of the bathrooms. That way, you won’t or at least shouldn’t be able to smell either of them,” she suggested, the gears in her mind still turning.

“We can try that,” you mumbled somberly. 

She smiled a little and pulled away to look at you, “Let me go get that started. I’ll have Eileen help me so that the guys’ smell isn’t on anything. Okay?”

You nodded a little, but your mood hadn’t really improved any. She hugged you one more time before heading out of the laundry room. You watched her go, then looked back at the washer, which was done. With a sigh, you got up, dried your tears, and then got the loads switched out before returning to where you’d been sitting. 

Sharing what you’d been going through with Charlie had helped, even if just a little. You weren’t used to having anyone to talk to, not since the curse. A year and a half of living a particular way created a lot of habits that had nothing to do with being close to people. Although, the last couple of weeks at the bunker hadn’t helped change any of those either. 

You weren’t sure how your cycle was going to turn out or how hard it was going to be due to how out of wack your emotions were. At least when you were dancing, you didn’t feel anything like this. Your cycles had also become less frequent when you figured out the warning signs. You’d stop working a week before they would typically hit, so they’d only last a few days. After a few months of that, they’d begun spacing themselves out more. You figured isolating yourself had something to do with it.

Just like people, cats could be alone or around others. Their demeanor and behaviors changed depending on that. In isolation, they’d only be around others when they had to be and got used to the solitary lifestyle. Being around people in the short amount of time you had, your cycle had come back, steady. Groaning, you stood and headed back to your room with the first load that had finished, the sheets and pillowcases with one of the blankets. Your mind was still in a fog, and you weren’t paying attention to anything more than the designs on the floor as you padded your way to your room. You made your bed, then filled the basket with the one load of your clothes and headed back to the laundry room. You didn’t notice how the library and war room were void of people or how quiet the bunker was. 

Laundry wasn’t your favorite task, but it was a necessary one. The laundry room was at least a smaller space, and it wasn’t your room, so there was comfort in being there while you waited. You tossed the second load of bedding into the laundry basket, and an hour later, your finished clothes on top, then headed back to your room.

The hallways and rooms you walked through and past were still empty. You didn’t notice, though. Depression and dashed hope does that to some people. Finally making it to your room, you finished making your bed and began folding your clothes. 

There was one piece of this little puzzle that you didn’t know and had never considered. Charlie, though, had been doing a ton of research on cats over the last two weeks. Hell, she could probably almost be an excerpt by now. It was why she’d gone and talked to you, had the brothers follow her, listen in, and now was implementing the idea that had come to her. 

The question that had begun her research, What happens to cats when they get depressed?

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5

Series Master List Part 1 Master List Part 2 Master List Past 3 Master List Main Master List

A/N: As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know in a comment. And if I missed your request to be tagged, please let me know. I know not everyone is interested in everything an author writes, so don't mind doing different tag lists for each piece of writing. I just get a lot of requests sometimes.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @zaratahir @jc-winchester @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @kindollss @flamencodiva @reignsboy19

@stillhere197 @kr804573 @hobby27 @megs-gadom

[mislamicpearl]

Thoughts and favorite moments from LMK season 5, eps 8-10 (finale):

Spoilers galore below:

"Control yourself" OMGOOODDD JUST HOW COLD AND CALMLY NEZHA SAID THAT WAS SO COOL!!

Somehow Nezha calling MK a child is so cute X3

Glad his dad isn't a full on bad guy, though I think he turned around a little fast. Granted we don't want to waste too much time on this.

The Pigsy huggg!😭😭😭

And the mastermind is... a Serpentine! Seriously, my sisters and I made up whole (unserious) theories on the spot there about this guy either coming from or pre-dating Ninjago. My favorite is that the cave he was talking about was the one the Anacondrai were trapped in - he managed to escape to the Ninjago realm before Pythor cannibalized the whole tribe.😆

"Wow, I'm very used to all of our enemies just being like, recycled your old enemies?" "Or like your ex-best friend." Hahaha

Hmm so this guy knew Wukong before, interesting...I just find it kind of funny that this guy (sorry I just couldn't catch his name) that his whole evil motivation is that he wants to just.. eff off.😆

Macaque trying so hard to stop MK sacrificing himself, again I can't believe how far their relationship has come since his first appearance. 😭

"That power. Who gave that to you? Who'd you make a deal with?" "A deal..?" I'M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH, ARE WE ACTUALLY GOING TO GET MORE ABOUT MACAQUE'S POWERS IN THE FUTURE??

Mei trying to straight up bite the snake guy XD

Macaque looking back at Wukong for a moment and seeing how desperate he is to save the kid before breaking them out of their bonds again😫

What did he do to Serpentine guy though??? Seriously give us the Macaque lore already!!!

So usually I HATE the trope of the hero insisting that there's no other way to save the day except to sacrifice themselves and pushing away their friends' efforts to save them... but here I'm kind of on MK's side with this one. They didn't exactly have a lot of time to figure out another way to stop the world from literally breaking apart.

That whole MK and Wukong fight put me in mind of Clint and Natasha from Avengers End Game trying to stop each other from killing themselves, which unfortunately means it was a little comical on top of being emotional.

But let's talk about how Wukong loves MK so much that even though he's so scared of death, to the point of making himself immortal, he still decided to take his place instead.😭

OMG WHAAAT MK ACTIVATED THE PAIN CIRCLET!?

Man... Wukong's guttural screams... cartoons rarely let characters show this much raw primal emotion, probably so as not to upset kids too much, so whenever you do see it you know things have gotten serious.

The fact that Macaque said Wukong's name instead of MK's tells me that he KNEW he would sacrifice himself in MK's place😭

Speaking of raw emotion, man... MK choking up with relief that his friends would be okay was just heart breaking.

So, not that I would've WANTED the "cycle" to renew itself or whatever, but... and this is most definitely just the religious side of me speaking here, I don't know that anyone else will agree with me... but I'm getting a little tired of shows letting the main characters decide the fate of the world based on what THEY want. Like, messages about standing up for your freedom, that's all well and good when it's in terms of rebelling against corruption and oppression, things that humans do to each other. But defying the very way your world is made, messing with the natural order of things because you personally don't like it... that's just arrogant and selfish. People in reality already think they can push the boundary of life and nature however they like; if some things weren't literally impossible, like coming back from the dead, humans would definitely do everything and anything they wanted and excuse themselves on the basis of wanting absolute freedom. That's why there ARE limits, and personally, I'm not a fan of seeing them being challenged as a good thing so often in almost every modern story ever. Wanting things your own way no matter what rules you break is a villain mindset (pretty much what the Serpentine guy's motivation was). I can kind of excuse MK here for the fact that the cycle wasn't supposed to start this early and what he's doing is just putting things back on the right track... whatever, guess I just wanted to get that off my chest, rant over.

Back to fluffy wholesome moments - Wukong crying and saying "I got you" to MK after catching him!!😭😭😭

And more group hugs🥹 This is probably like the third or fourth of this season??

Toy Story 3 moment of everyone holding hands and accepting their fate...

AND WE FINALLY GET THE SCENE FROM THE TRAILER...WUKONG AND MACAQUE ABOUT TO FORGIVE EACH OTHER UGGHH! FART YOU SERPENTINE DUDE FOR INTERRUPTING THEM!!

Yes I DID pay attention to which stone lights went to which characters... and that Mei's went to Red Son, and Pigsy's went to Chang'e, AND WUKONG'S WENT TO MACAQUE!!

Oh yeah nope, we just CAN'T end the season without giving MK something to worry and feel guilty about for next time!

Wukong tearing up saying "I don't want to lose you" MY HEART😭

YO WHAT IS GOING ON WITH MACAQUE'S SHADOW POWER??? AND IT'S ON MK'S STAFF!!! MACAQUE SPECIAL MACAQUE SPECIAL MACAQUE SPECIAL OH PLEEEEASE!!!

Bro, this show... every season has been peak so far.

[dameronology]

love in an elevator (natasha romanoff)

summary: nothing will make you confront your ex like being trapped in a lift with her

warnings: language

eugh two natasha fics in a night?? no regrets. i love my wife. enjoy.

jazz xx

The key to a break up, you had come to learn, was distance.

Distance and space and time apart and whatever other bullshit it was that Vogue recommended every week. Maybe a glass of wine or two here and there, and a night out with your closest friends. You'd cycled through that process ten times over but getting distance from Natasha Romanoff felt near enough fucking impossible when she was quite literally everywhere. At work, in the office, at the Avengers HQ, in the streets. New York had become a thousand times smaller after your break-up.

Seeing her at work was unavoidable. After all, that was how you'd met. Natasha was easy enough to get on with back then; she was blunt and straight to the point but it was clear she cared deeply about the people she loved. You never imagined being one of them yourself, but when she'd asked you out after a few weeks of casual flirting and longing glances, it was hard to remember a time when you weren't. And not only were you somebody she loved, you were the person she loved most. The person she wanted to come home to everyday; the one she laid herself bare too and would have stopped at nothing to make you happy.

It had been a good year and a half. All smiles and a few rocky days here and there, but you never wanted to leave Natasha's side. She'd never pictured buying herself a ring for anyone, or even considering the idea of marriage, but the day she proposed had been the best of your life. Multiple promises had been made that day. I'll love you forever and I'm never taking this ring off.

Promises, as it was, were made to be broken.

Work got hard for both of you. Missions and long trips apart and your relationship basically becoming long distance. Each factor a tiny nail in your coffin but Natasha Romanoff would have been lying if she said she wasn't the one building said coffin and holding the fucking hammer. Because for every day she spent away from you was a day that she took a step back to her old ways. She became a closed off woman all over again, shutting you out and refusing to talk.

You'd have been a fool to let her treat you that way. Leaving was hard but like hell were you going to let her drag you down with her. She'd lost herself and now she'd lost you too.

Your break-up had been a wake up call. She'd gotten better - gone to therapy, started talking to people again, come back into herself. At that point she could have begged you to take her back, but what use was it? There was no promise that she wouldn't do the same again. The risk of hurting you was too high.

So, Natasha kept her distance and so did you - where you could, at least. Getting into an elevator with her wasn't ideal but you were running late for your meeting and hell, you couldn't wait any longer. That had been your main worry right then -standing next to your ex, wondering if you'd make it in on time- but as soon as the elevator shuddered to a halt and the lights went out, those worries seemed like a fucking vacation.

"Are you kidding me?" you huffed. "Tony Stark spends millions on this building but he cheaps out on the elevators?"

"Hey, it's fine," Natasha said - stoic as ever, but just as jittery as you. Not so much at the situation - it was hard to be worried about being stuck in a lift when you'd fought aliens - but rather at who she was with. "You just gotta press the emergency button-"

She stopped, watching as you began to punch the bright red button multiple times.

"Only once, though," Nat continued. "You don't want to break it."

"Jeez thanks, Natasha," you muttered. "Wisdomful, as always."

"I'm just trying to help."

"Well, you're not!" you snapped. "I'm running late for a meeting and I do not need this right now."

"This being stuck in a lift or this being stuck in a lift with me?"

You huffed. "Does it matter? I don't have time for this."

"We're literally stuck in an elevator," she shot back. "I'd argue you have all the time in the world."

"Fine," you muttered. "I don't like being stuck in elevators at the best of times but being stuck in one with my ex-girlfriend -my ex-fiance, even - is a little less desirable."

She gave you a smile. "There we go."

Natasha gracefully placed her bag down and took a seat on the floor of the elevator. She pulled a book out the front pocket and began to read, clearly not phased by the situation. You let out another loud sigh and threw your own briefcase to the ground, clumsily taking a seat beside her. Her green eyes flickered up from the pages, giving you another smile. This was so you. Making a scene, being over-dramatic at the slightest inconvenience. She'd been the reasonable one in your relationship.

Pulling out your phone, you began to violently type something.

"Who are you messaging?" she asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're about to crack your phone screen with how hard you're typing."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm messaging Tony to let him know what a dickhead he is."

"I don't think Tony's to blame-"

"- look, Natasha. My morning is ruined and I'm going to get so much shit from Fury for missing this meeting that I need to let it out, okay?" you cut her off. "Sometimes, it's just easier to have someone to blame."

"Do you blame me for our break-up?"

Your brows shot up, eyes widening. Okay, you hadn't expected that question. There hadn't been much conversation about your break-up. You'd just told Nat you were leaving and she hadn't argued. Even when you wanted her to - even when you were ready to beg and implore and beseech for her to want you to stay - you'd stayed quiet.

"W-what?" you stuttered. "No, of course not."

"Are you sure?"

"There are a lot of things in that situation that I'm not sure of but that isn't one of them," you insisted. "I don't blame you or me or anyone. I mean...yeah, you coulda tried harder but - why are we even talking about this?"

Natasha shrugged. "Like I said, we're stuck in a lift. Seems like a sign from the universe to ask this stuff."

"Right," you replied. "No, I don't blame you and no, I don't hate you and yes, I forgive you for anything you think I might be holding against you. Any more questions?"

"Do you miss me?" she quietly asked. "I miss you."

"All the time, Nat," you said. "Sorry I iced you out."

"You did what you had to," Natasha reasoned. "And quite honestly, I iced you out first, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did."

'I think...I think that losing you was the wake-up call I needed," she admitted. "For what it's worth, you're the reason I got better. The reason I am better."

You shrugged. "It's just what I do."

"Yeah, okay," Natasha laughed. "One more question -do you hate me for not calling you?"

"Yeah, a little," you said. "I guess some part of me always hoped that there was still a chance for us."

"Maybe there is."

You glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"Okay," you replied. "Dinner tomorrow night then?"

Natasha nodded, glancing back down at her book. "Yeah, sounds good."