#I AM SO SORRY!!!!! it's never a you thing i'm just Bad

[meenaxskz]

when he gets sick (maknae line)

ot8 reactions-drabbles | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack warnings: language a/n : i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to come so late after the hyung line sniff... but it was hard to come up with different new plots for each members. hopefully it's okay ! hyung line | ✧ maknae line

han

you find him dramatically starfished across the couch like he’s been defeated by a single sneeze. tissues everywhere. hoodie halfway on. hair sticking up like static electricity punched him in the skull. he sees the cough syrup and immediately goes “oh no. not today, satan.” you’re already tired and you haven’t said a word yet. “han jisung. you are sick. take. the. medicine.” “i already took medicine!” “no you didn’t.” “i took homeopathic medicine.” “…you sniffed Vicks and drank orange juice.” “AND I FELT SPIRITUALLY HEALED.” you deadpan. he sniffles. “don’t look at me like that, you judgmental nurse from hell.” you walk over. he backs up into the corner of the couch like you’re holding a weapon. technically you are. grape-flavored and vengeance-infused. “you’re gonna have to sedate me” he whispers. “because I’m not drinking that purple demon piss.” “it’s not even bad...” “then you drink it!!” “I’M NOT THE ONE MAKING DYING GOOSE NOISES IN THEIR SLEEP.” jisung makes a tiny offended gasp, like you just insulted his ancestors “I was wheezing cutely!” “you sounded like a haunted vacuum cleaner.” he slaps a tissue to his chest. “my own lover… turned against me…” you hold up the spoon. he crosses his arms like a gremlin. “no.” you sigh. you text chan. you hold the phone up so jisung can see the message: “if han jisung doesn’t take his meds in 5 minutes, i’m sending you the ‘meow meow sick boy’ compilation i’ve been collecting since 2022.” jisung stares in horror. “you kept archives??” “i am the FBI.” he mutters something about betrayal and capitalism but opens his mouth like a sulky baby bird. you pour the syrup in. he gags like you just poisoned him. “I CAN FEEL MY SOUL DYING” he howls, flailing. “I SEE THE LIGHT.” “that’s the kitchen light, dumbass.” you give him a juice box. he slurps it aggressively. “…i still get cuddles though, right?” “only if you don’t fake your death again.” he nods. “deal.” bonus: later that night, he’s fully passed out on your lap, warm from meds, holding your hand like a teddy bear. you go to grab your phone, and he sleep-mumbles: “…don’t post the meow meow archive… the people can’t know…” you smirk. too late.

felix

you’re standing in the living room, folding towels, living your boring domestic life in peace when you hear the softest, most suspiciously sweet little voice behind you go... “baby…” you already know. your soul leaves your body. you turn. he’s standing there in a hoodie three sizes too big, sleeves covering his hands, blinking like he’s never committed a crime in his life. “…what.” “c’mere” “why?” “just. c’mere.” you blink. you take one step forward. he immediately collapses into your arms. “i’m so tired…” “you slept eleven hours.” “emotionally.” you try to walk but he's wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. “felix i literally can’t fold towels with you hanging off me like a koala” “don’t need towels. need love.” you freeze. “…did you just say that out loud.” “i’m in my soft era.” he looks up at you, full puppy eyes, lips slightly pouty. “can i sit in your lap while you do stuff?” “i'm not a fucking booster seat” he climbs into your lap anyway. man is built like a cat with separation anxiety. “pet me.” “felix” “pet. me.” so now you’re sitting there one-handed folding laundry while your very adult boyfriend purrs into your hoodie and mumbles things like “you smell like safety.” and “you’re my lil mommy bear.” “okay nope. absolutely fucking not.” “my milky wuvy” “I’M GETTING THE SPRAY BOTTLE.” you try to push him off, he clings harder. “if you unlatch me, i’ll cry. real tears. emotional damage. 2007 trauma unlocked.” you freeze. “…why 2007.” “i watched Bridge to Terabithia and i’ve never been the same.” he pulls out the big guns. eyelash flutter. pout. baby voice. “can you scratch my back while i fall asleep and then play with my hair and tell me i’m special and maybe also feed me snacks?” you stare. “…do you wanna be babied or adopted.” “both.” bonus: 30 minutes later, you’re hand-feeding him popcorn on the couch, scratching his back, while he lays across your lap like a little prince. you mutter, “you’re so fucking spoiled.” he smiles sleepily. “and yet… so adorable.” you don't deny that...

seungmin

you walk into the living room with medicine and warm tea, and he doesn’t even look up from the couch. just sniffs dramatically and says, “look who finally decided to check on the dying.” “seungmin. it’s been 6 minutes. i went to boil water.” he shrugs. “a lot can happen in 6 minutes. i could’ve passed away. joined the spirit realm. you wouldn’t even know.” you stare. he stares back, wrapped in the blanket like a bitter old man on his front porch judging the neighborhood. “here” you hand him the tea. “…you think this will fix me?” “it’s ginger and honey.” “oh perfect. can’t wait to taste warm regret.” you sit next to him. he immediately leans just slightly away. “don’t get too close. i’m diseased. like a stray dog” “you’re being dramatic.” “i’m being accurate. my lungs sound like wet socks.” he coughs once. loudly. then looks at you like you personally caused it. “this is what happens when i go outside. i told you. the air is trying to kill me.” “you were at a café for fifteen minutes” “and now i’m paying the price for socializing.” he sips the tea. pauses. “…okay fine. this is kinda nice.” you smirk “wanna cuddle?” he slowly turns to you with a blank stare “…i’m infectious.” “yeah, but you’re also cute.” he scoffs. “disgusting. go date someone with a normal immune system.” you kiss his cheek. he doesn’t react, but his ears go red.he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear: “…love you too, idiot.” bonus: he wakes up from a nap on your lap, eyes barely open, voice raspy as hell. “did you cheat on me while I was unconscious.” you blink.“…what?” “you were scrolling suspiciously fast.” “i was on pinterest.” “mhm. planning your next relationship, probably.” you snort. “i was looking at soup recipes for you, dumbass.” he pauses.“…did you save any good ones?”

i.n

he’s laying on the bed, flushed, sniffling, and looking like a hot mess. literally. fever at 100.7. eyes glassy. shirtless. blanket only covering one leg for some reason. he sees you walk in with medicine and a cold compress and immediately grins like a little demon. “baby…” he rasps. “no.” “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.” “you were gonna say something disgusting and then try to kiss me with your sick-ass mouth.” “…okay yeah but in my defense i’m very charming when i’m near death.” you sigh, placing the medicine down. he props himself up, blinking slowly like he’s trying to flirt through actual respiratory distress “come here. i wanna kiss you…” “jeongin you’re going off to blow your nose.” he pouts, genuinely offended. “so what, you don’t wanna make out with your sexy little plague rat of a boyfriend??” “correct.” “wow. coward behavior.” he starts crawling toward you like a zombie but sexy??? his voice drops an octave,still congested, and he gives you his best sultry stare. “c’mon, baby. don’t you wanna… sweat together?” “…what the actual fuck.” you dodge when he leans in to kiss you. he stops mid-air. “did you just. DODGE me.” “yes because you’re sweating and breathing like darth vader and tried to lick my face five seconds ago” “THAT WAS LOVE LANGUAGE” he throws himself back on the bed like you rejected his marriage proposal. “i can’t believe this. rejected in my time of need.” you toss him the cold compress “cool your horny little forehead.” he mumbles under his breath while placing it on his face“if i die tomorrow, just know it was the heartbreak that got me, not the virus.” bonus: you go to check if he fell asleep. he lifts the compress just enough to say: “you still think i’m hot though, right?” you raise a brow. “…sick hot.” he smirks. “i’ll take it.”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[sirfrogsworth]

(In reference to this post)

I'm going to be honest, this kind of attitude concerns me.

I've been going over my past lately. I'm writing something about my relationship with my brother. And I found a letter I never sent him.

Here is an excerpt.

-----------------------

I was not a good brother to you.

I took you for granted and was an ungrateful jerk. You used to do so much to help me. You did all kinds of manual labor because my stupid failing body could not. You built me things. You helped me fix things. You drove me places I needed to be. When I first got sick at college you came to Kansas City and scooped me up and brought me back home.

I remember one Christmas you even went back to the family gathering and stuck up for me. They didn't understand how sick I was and you explained it to them. I never told you how much that meant to me. I should have hugged you and thanked you profusely on the spot. You believed me even when some doctors refused to. And you used that big heart of yours to defend me.

That was an amazing act of courage. Find that same courage now. Stand up for Mom & Dad. Stand up for yourself. Put your foot down and fix this.

It took me way too long to figure it out, but it is my regret of being a bad brother that helped me realize why you don't like my humor. Why you are one of the very few people I can't make laugh. It's because I used that humor at your expense. I made fun of you. I teased you the same way those betraying bastard fake friends did in high school. At the time, I probably thought my jokes were harmless fun. But I'm sure you felt they were cruel and hurtful. We are such different people and I had a hard time understanding you. I used humor as a weapon to highlight our differences. I have no excuse. I have no justification for being a jerk to you.

All I can do is say I am sorry. Truly and deeply sorry.

-----------------------

I didn't send that letter because he was too far gone. His wife read every email and text and I had no way of getting through to just him.

My brother used to be a much better person than me. I often failed to be the good person I thought I was. I didn't realize I was being hurtful at the time. And I didn't do this to just him. I thought I was just making jokes. It was not "pretty easy" for me to realize that. It took years of growing and hindsight.

He used to be nothing but good behaviors all the way down.

And I struggled to limit my bad behaviors.

I was bullied in grade school and realized that if you are funny, people don't bully you anymore. So my brain thought I needed to make people laugh at all times. And it didn't matter if my jokes were at someone else's expense.

Bad behaviors are often easy. They can be tempting. They can require less effort. They can have greater rewards. And sometimes they can protect you. They can be a defense mechanism. Your brain trying to avoid trauma. "I'll hurt someone first so no one hurts me."

There is a reason so many people struggle to be good all the time.

Good behavior requires constant vigilance. You can't do a certain number of good things and then just call yourself a good person. And you can't just not do bad things either. A good person isn't necessarily just "not being evil to other people." That is neutral, at best.

I've learned that being a good person isn't something you just are. It is an ongoing choice. You have to maintain it. You have to actively keep it going. You have to consistently choose good behaviors and limit the bad.

And we all choose bad behaviors from time to time.

Don't kid yourself.

If you know the story of my brother, he let bad behaviors win. He let someone influence him to abuse and neglect his own family. He did it because he was traumatized. He was humiliated by a girl in high school. She said she was his girlfriend. She let him take her to prom. Then she wrote a one-act play called "Prom Nightmare" and performed it in front of the entire school. He was a laughing stock to 2000 classmates.

He is terrified of being alone but he is also terrified that any romantic partner is faking their affections. So obedience is his tool to prevent that. He will do anything his partner instructs to make sure her affection is real. His unmanaged trauma has run amok and led him to dark choices to keep his relationship intact at any cost.

He was such a good person. And now he is not. He has the potential. He is so good with his daughter. He is capable of good behaviors. And I think that is why it upsets and angers me so much. I can still see what he could be.

If you want to see people as just good and bad, that's up to you. I can't do it anymore. I think humans are too complicated. And I worry about getting complacent. I need to check in on my ratio of good to bad behaviors constantly. It would be too easy to say I am a good person and not think about it again.

I mean, sure, I don't kick puppies. I don't taunt the elderly. I don't assault random strangers.

Being good is easy!

Right?

[autophobiacomic]

Hi, I just wanted to say that I'm rereading Autophobia right now and it's hitting me how far I've come? Like when I started reading it I was Louis and Daniel's age, and in denial about my bisexuality, and struggling with a lot of the same mental health problems that Louis does. It's kind of crazy reading the panic attack page again, because I remember when I first read it I was like "wow, my panic attacks have never been that bad" and now I'm just like "yikes, I've been there" (it really was such an incredibly accurate and poignant portrayal btw). Anyway, now I'm in my mid/late 20s, and I've been fully out for over two years, and even though I'm really going through it right now (like we all are) it's been kind of mind blowing rereading this comic that's been with me for most of my formative years and realizing that I'm so much better now. I'm so much more centered and in touch with myself and all the parts of myself that I used to hate. Autophobia was one of the first webcomics that I started following, and it was so vital to me during times when I desperately needed it. So I just wanted to thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart, in a place I hope you'll see it? I hope you're doing well, and not stressing out about uploading or anything (as a slow creative myself, it takes time, especially when the world is so . . . yeah. It's so insanely impressive to me how you've managed to keep with it all of these years <3) and just living a happy life. Thank you for creating a comic that helped me when I was an anxious queer teenager, and an anxious queer adult. It means the world to me. <3 (And sorry for dropping this monster of an ask on you!)

I'm really late to reply to this, but I wanted to be in the headspace to reply! Thank you for sending this ask--I'm glad things are better now and it makes me happy to hear the comic was there for you during the hard times 💖 It definitely was my outlet for coping with a lot of stuff back in the day, so I really am glad it could help someone like it helped me just writing and drawing it.

[porty]

for my starlight

burning pile

"alright. welcome back to another episode of chattermeta," isagi said seriously.

his tone made ness glance up nervously, still anxiously waiting for that email to come in. bachira let out a soft sigh before chiming in.

"we just wanted to hop on here to speak about something - something rather important," bachira stated. "and we thought this would be the best way to address you guys."

he glanced over at ness and swore he saw him tense. something was definitely off. bachira could feel it. he wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew he had to get to the bottom of it. turning back to isagi, he gave him a subtle signal to keep going, hoping isagi understood how serious this was.

"you know, recently we saw and heard some things that raised our concerns," isagi began. "and we just want to talk about it. we want to point out a few things and clear the air. we’ve always tried to be open and honest with you guys, and we think it’s only right to talk about this before it gets completely out of hand."

bachira nodded and continued where isagi left off.

"yeah, a day or two ago - some tweets came out about us. they accused us of stealing content and using people just for clout. as you all know, shidou, oliver, and yn have been our friends for over ten years - way before chattermeta even existed. We invite them on because we genuinely enjoy their company, and their support means everything to us."

he rubbed his temples, clearly frustrated. he’d never signed up for this influencer life. podcasting was never about popularity for him - it was about connection. and now, all of this noise made it hard to remember that.

isagi picked it back up. "to add to that, we want to say we always do our best to credit those involved with any topic we cover. we really take the time and effort to make content that not only we enjoy and appreciate, but content you all will love too."

bachira looked over at him, silently appreciating the fact that Isagi was actually taking it seriously this time.

then, bachira turned to ness. "anything you want to say, ness?"

ness sighed. "it just sucks that this is happening. i have no words." his eyes flicked away for a moment - he wanted to look anywhere but at them - but forced himself to stay grounded. he didn’t want to look suspicious. after a moment, he added, "you know... who even gave them that information?"

bachira hummed in thought. isagi gave a slow nod. there was something about this whole situation that didn’t sit right with either of them. bachira’s brows furrowed - who would intentionally spread lies to make them all look bad?

"we just want to make sure we're all on the same page," isagi said firmly. "and make it known that this person - whoever they are - is spreading something harmful. that’s not what we're about. and if any of you did feel this way about us - we’re sorry. that was never our intention. we just want to have fun and share that with you."

"yeah," bachira added. "we don't want to lose your trust. and if you did believe that person, we’ll take responsibility. we’re going to get better at crediting people. Just know - we care deeply about the core five. we have them here because it’s fun - "

"um, sorry…" ness interrupted, glancing at his screen. "we just got something. someone wrote in."

"oh? well, read it," isagi said.

thankfully, bachira was facing away from ness - so ness didn’t catch him rolling his eyes. "yeah, the subject line says: ‘you guys are alright!’"

“To my Starlight,

I never imagined I'd have to write to you like this... but here I am. As always, I need you to know—I am here. I'm always here. Closer than you think. Watching, waiting. I'll never leave your side. Not really.

I don’t understand what this is—this so-called "special episode." It reeks of deception. It's not for your safety. It's for them. A distraction. A pretty little lie to make them sleep at night. I see through it. I always do.

They’re using you—parading you around like a symbol, like a sacrifice. And it makes me sick. They don’t see you, not the way I do. You're not their pawn. You’re radiant. Fearless. Singular. My starlight. And yet... they throw you to the wolves.

When I hear what they’re doing to you, I feel something twist inside me. I get... angry. Too ang-”

"ness, that's enough!" bachira exclaimed. "you didn't want to check the content before reading it?"

he rubbed his forehead, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. he wanted to keep going - someone couldn’t be this dense, not in a situation like this, not with everything going on. being present for this and still making that mistake? bachira couldn’t believe it.

he was about to say something else when isagi moved his microphone in the worst possible way, creating an awful screech that made bachira groan. before he could recover, ness spoke up.

"sorry… it looked fine on the subject -"

now isagi cut him off.

"we should wrap it up here. thank you guys for listening up to this point, and we’ll see you next time." isagi tried to sound chipper, forced brightness in his voice.

he ended the podcast with a click and let out a tired sigh. "ness, go home…"

"i’m sorry…" ness said quietly, slipping out of the room.

bachira didn’t say a word. he just glared, eyes locked on ness until he was out of sight. then he turned back to isagi and sighed.

that’s when it hit him - bachira put two and two together. ness had something to do with it. he didn’t know how yet, but he had a bad feeling. and he needed proof.

masterlist || Previous: creep || Next: (don’t fear) the reaper

Taglist: @aionishoh || @inojinieeee || @rinniebinniebay || @twilightsumu || @dremerys || @thatmf-jay || @amvpk01 || @yxruxp

@porty || do not plagiarise or translate any of my work. I do not own any of the Blue Lock characters all rights goes to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura.

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

ch. 11 wild honey

pairing: raider!joel x fem!reader

rating: 18+ explicit MDNI

summary: you and joel start your long drive to wyoming. smut.warnings: age gap (early 20s/late 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink (mostly just earlier chapters shut it down in the later chapters), unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, softdom!Joel, angst, self-deprecation, dacryphilia, substance abuse, anxiety & ptsd

ch. 11 - 2.8k words

a/n: Sorry I haven't been able to update sooner <3 I'm going to be honest, I have been feeling overwhelmed with TLOU and not in a bad way because it's my everything, but I actually haven't watched the latest season yet and I'm not sure if I will because I am so sensitive. 3 Maybe one day.

masterlist | Ao3 | my booktower | wuac playlist

@orcasoul @guiltyaschargedmf @idrkman

Joel's POV

Joel was not a good man, and the fact that you kept reiterating that he was just proved how naive you really were.

The world was punishing him for his bad deeds, stacked like a mountain of wilted corpses that he’d lost count of. Soon he’d be one of them. Rotten fertilizer for rotten soil, that much he knew.

Something wasn’t right with his heart, he was convinced of the fact after the last few months of episodes he’d been having. Chest tight, heart racing a mile a minute, breathing ragged and panicked, like he was sucking the last air on earth through a punctured, plastic straw filled with coarse sand. 

Death was around the corner, lurking with yellow eyes against the desert’s barren, black canvas. His flashlight provided a beam of shaky light into the void, his other hand clutching his chest, bunching up the fabric of his flannel like he’d rip the pain out with his bare hands.

There was an inkling of worry that bloomed in the back of his mind whenever these episodes happened. That one of these days, it would send him to an early grave. 

Usually, the episodes passed after a few minutes.

He was beginning to seriously doubt his ability to protect you. Both you and the baby. And that thought consumed him every waking hour of every fucking day.

There was nothing more important to him than keeping you safe, which meant that surviving long enough to take you to Wyoming was his number one priority. 

After that, he’d let fate decide what to do with him. 

Just not yet.

****

“Hi.” You were gorgeous in the morning, wearing his t-shirt that barely covered your lower half. He loved the way you looked in the early hours. Hopeful, wide eyed with excitement for what the day would bring. 

“Mornin’. You get enough sleep?” He rumbled and when you sat up and tossed the blanked aside, it took strength for his eyes not to wander to your thighs, to think about what was between them.

Joel shifted his attention to roasting coffee on the firepit he built earlier that morning. The mundane activity does little to curb the swell of his already bulging cock.

“As much as I could get with as cold as it was last night. Without you.” He sensed the little jab at his unexplained absence, and it’d been something he was losing his knack for avoiding. “Where were you?” You asked, peering over his shoulder at the vast wasteland.

“Guardin’ the area.” A tight-lipped response, his eyes fixated on anything but your insistent gaze.

“Uhuh.” Whenever you were mad, your mouth would pucker up all small and cute. He tried not to laugh, knew it would only offend you and be misconstrued for more negligence on his end.

“I ain’t sleepin’ with anybody else if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I’d be shocked to hear if you stayed with anyone for the night. But hey, gotta hit it and quit it, right?”

“It ain’t like that–”

“Then what is it like, Joel?” He was never good at this part. The domestic, day-to-day swing of things in a relationship with a woman. The last time he was with a woman, as more than just a one night stand, was… decades ago. 

The memories played back in his mind like an old movie, edges wobbly and speckled, the sound of a film roll whirring in a vintage theater of his mind. Muffled shouting, broken glass, tears, all a recipe that baked into red ink splashed across eggshell white divorce papers, delivered in a harrowing manila envelope.

No one tells you the secret to keeping your wife happy. To keep her from leaving you for another man while you pick up the pieces of your lives, a fleeting afterthought for her while she embarked on a new adventure.

For him, he was left a broken man.

Not because she was the love of his life. He knew he didn’t feel the same way about her as he does with you now. But something about the way it all went down, seeing how fast his life could crumble like loose rubble on the edge of a cliff, made him feel hollow and lost. A bird with clipped wings.

After the divorce, he was alone for years. 

Well, sort of.

He didn’t let himself think too far into it.

Fast forward to the outbreak when it was just him and Tommy, he didn’t have to be careful about what he said or didn’t say to his brother. He just did what came naturally to him and Tommy would just accept it.

Until he didn’t.

Now he was at risk of fucking things up again. You being angry with him was reminding him of his past life. His fear of losing it all again, especially when you meant more to him than any woman he’d ever been with. 

He didn’t even want to imagine losing the baby. His child that you were carrying, belly already getting so swollen and round.

His mind wandered again, as it seemed to do when it came to you. To places he didn’t want to go, dark memories stashed in his mind, locked away in his own personal vault of failures.

Tiny fingers curled around a thick, calloused thumb. Pencil marks on the wall by the bathroom. Four foot five inches. Four foot eight inches. Four foot ten inches.

That would be the last one etched on his wall back in Austin, if time hadn’t erased it by now. Rain weathering the graphite markings until they bled down the wall, leaving behind a faded trail of gray rivers. History could not repeat itself. 

The storm could not come again, a lightning strike upon his life that left him in ruins.

He would do right by you, some way, somehow. Didn’t matter if he wasn’t going to stick around long, just meant he’d have to make the most of the time that he had.

Your legs dangled over the tailgate of the truck, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a waterfall of your hair cascading down your left side. 

Joel was in front of you now, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head back until your eyes met his. “Hey, listen to me. ‘M right here, alright?” 

Looking into your eyes, it was like he held the sun in his hands, like he stole it from the world and kept it all to his greedy self like the grinch of summer.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” His heart spoke before his brain could, and he regretted it instantly. Stupid, stupid. Making promises he couldn’t keep. “Prove it.” You said, eyes still cold and sad but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, the mischievous little thing you were.

“Prove it?”

“Yeah. Sleep with me now and I’ll believe you. I’ll even forgive you for all the times you left me cold and alone.”

“Baby, we gotta keep movin’.”

“The sun’s barely up, we’ll be fine if we stick around for a few more hours.”

“As much as I want to fuck you again…” Joel chuckled to himself.

“I said sleep, not fuck, Joel.”

He clicked his tongue, pushing your legs apart gently so he could slot his groin against your warmth. “You know I don’t like stayin’ in one place for too long. ‘S dangerous when ‘s just the two of us.

“Please.” There was a syrupy lilt to your voice that Joel wasn’t able to resist. It soothed him, kept his worries at bay and tamed the rage that simmered inside him, threatening to boil over like an unwatched pot of soup. 

“Remember when you promised we’d stay at that cabin and then we didn’t?” You added playfully, firing his missteps back at him like ammo.

“Ya really know how to get your way, don’tcha? That always work for ya?”

“Maybe.” You sighed against his skin and he felt his cock jerk in his pants. “But you’re a difficult one. Never know what to expect with you.”

“Thought you’d know me by now.”

“In some ways, yes. In others, I’d say I hardly know a thing about you. Took you forever just to tell me how old you were.”

“Didn’t want ya to think I was a creep ‘s why,” Joel rumbled into your hair.

You pulled your face out from the crook of his neck and peered up at him, head tilted to the left with a puzzled expression lining your face. “And why on earth would I think that?” 

“Cuz I’m a lot older ‘n you. Was at war with myself if I should make a move on ya or not back then. Figured if I did, was better to keep you guessin’ my age. Maybe you’d knock a few years off.”

“What if I said I found old men sexy?”

“Older. Not old,” he corrected.

“Older.”

“I’d worry you had daddy issues or som’.” It was meant to be a playful remark, but there was a hint of concern in his tone. You never spoke much about your parents, about who they were, or how your life was with them behind the walls.

He didn’t ask either, he let you do the talking as usual, but you never scratched deeper than the surface. Other than your Grandma, he knew you were fond of her and your life from before, but he was itching to know more. Greedy.

Why you left the QZ was still a mystery to him. Well, he knew the place was a piss hole, but it still plagued him to know why a girl like you would up and leave all alone like that. 

“Who doesn’t?” You challenged, but the words were dry and bitter, falling out of your mouth in chunks like the disintegrated remnants of a 2001 Butterfinger.

“Never told me why ya left.” Testing the waters wasn’t all that bad to do, he decided. If you wanted to tell him, you would, if not, at least he left the door open. 

“I did tell you. There was nothing left for me there. You of all people should know that when you didn’t even wanna live there yourself.”

“I know, I know, it’s just… Dunno, darlin’, guess I just can’t wrap my head around why you’d risk gettin’ yourself killed like that. Ya had to of known ya weren’t prepared for life out here. Shit, if I had been any other man–I don’t even wanna think about what coulda happened to ya. Were ya… were ya runnin’ from someone–”

“I didn’t belong there,” you said curtly, stoking the fire of Joel’s curiosity even further with your tight-lipped reaction. Grumpiness was usually part of his script, not yours.

“Okay, okay. I’ll take ya word for it.” Joel pressed his lips to your forehead, stroking your hair, your back. “You’re right where ya belong now.”

Joel carried you to the truck cab and laid you down in the back. He tugged his t-shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him before climbing in beside you. 

The door clicked shut and the two of you were flush against each other, he’d taken your shirt off too, with a little playful protesting on your end, but he insisted that he wanted to feel your warmth, that it'd help him sleep.

Joel skin pressed to yours. Worn leather against a flawless tone and it made him feel old. Made him realize how young you were. How the two of you must look next to each other.

Tommy would be ashamed of him and what he’d done. 

There was no harm in enjoying you while he could, tasting you while he still had the chance, while you still let him since you didn’t know who he really was. You were naive, letting a–former?–hunter like him fuck you the way you had. 

An old hunter at that.

He’s killed a fuck load of people. Recently too, even though it was to help out Bill, which you seemed to be okay with, though he still would have done it without batting an eye, with or without your approval.

Pulling the trigger was as second nature to him as breathing. 

See, shoot, kill. 

Rinse and repeat.

Maybe that made him even worse than he thought, tricking you into thinking he wasn’t so bad. Keeping secrets about himself from you, like what he did for a living all these years, about what he was really doing outside the Austin QZ that day.

Watching the game of life and death, letting the players weed each other out so he didn’t have to do all the work. He was alone for a few months, after Tommy left and all his guys either kicked the bucket or betrayed him, Joel had to get savvy and hash out a different plan for raiding.

So he’d wait outside the QZ when inevitably a few of you would escape and make a break for it. 

They never lasted long. A gang would swoop in and wipe out any of the ants that left the farm, reaping whatever goodies they had from inside the walls, things that prove useful for those outside of them.

An enemy group would come in and fight for the rewards, and then they’d weed each other out and Joel would snipe them one-by-one from afar like little soda cans at a shooting range. 

Until he saw you through the lens of his scope, a helpless rabbit surrounded by hungry wolves with sharp grins. A switch went off in his head and he put his gun to work, aiming down his sight until each of them went down. 

You were still hurt, but it could have been worse. Much, much worse.

He held you close to him as the memories raced around his mind like a corralled horse.

“You aren’t sleepin’. Why?”

“Can’t relax.” 

“What would help you relax?” Soft hands stroked across the scruffy surface of his cheek and he smiled into your hand.

“You.” There wasn’t anything more beautiful, more comforting, than to have you by his side, feel the featherweight of your touch that settled his electrified nerves down to a soft buzz.

“I’m right here. You can rest now, Joel.”

“Not what I meant,” he rumbled darkly into the shell of your ear.

“Oh.”

It was amazing the effect you had on him, the frequent desire he felt in his jeans like he was going through a second puberty. 

“It calms me down,” he said with his lips pressed to the back of your shoulder. “But we don’t have to if ya don’t wanna.” 

“We can. If it’ll help you sleep then I’ll sacrifice myself for the greater good. But only if you promise to sleep right after.”

“I only wanna if you do. Want you to feel good.”

“I want it,” you whispered, giving Joel the greenlight, his tongue quickly tangling with yours, solidifying his debt to you now. A promise for a promise.

Summer rain and honey filled his lungs and he wondered how the hell you smelled so good all the time. The two of you hadn’t even had a bath since you left Bill’s. 

The soft pillows of your ass pressed against his groin and his hips bucked into yours.

Wandering hands slid under the fabric of your panties, gently tugging them down, down, down, all the way to your lower thighs.

Wet, sticky syrup coated his fingers tips. How you were so fucking soaked already was driving him insane.

Joel couldn’t wait anymore. Not this time.

He needed you.

Now.

He shoved his jeans off and slipped his cock into your folds and he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, swallowing the beastly groan that now sat in the pit of his stomach.

“That’s it, you can take it. ‘M gonna go nice ‘n slow–wanna feel you wrapped around me just like this.” Joel cooed into your ear. 

Teeth marks dotted the surface of your skin, places where he’d marked you with his love bites, scattering across your back like evidence of his love–his lust for you.

The early morning light spilled along the curves of your back, smooth and golden. Worn, sun-beaten hands holding your curves with bruising force, his hips jerking into yours as he drags your body onto his cock.

You were made for him.

Your soft whimpers melt into whines whenever he thrusts hard, bottoming out so deep he can feel your wet drip down his balls. He could stay there, like that, forever with you. Nestled between your thighs, forearm draped across your waist, right hand pressed to your throat.

Honey and summer rain. You smelled like a spring day in May, when the rain would stop and the sun would come out after the storm. 

You smelled like home. 

Felt like home when he poured himself into you, when he heard the sound of your moans begging him not to stop. Harder, more, please, Joel…

Ragged breaths steadied to a rhythmic flow, your breasts a comfortable weight in Joel’s hand as he fell asleep with you in his arms.

The trip could wait another day, for now, Joel would rest.

prev / next

[metallickoi]

@kittenscratches

I do think it's interesting that you point out that there isn't a lot of direct hostility towards trans women on the part of people who discuss transandrophobia. Because really I've seen lots of people claim that trans guys are using transandrophobia as a cudgel against trans women but I have just not seen it without it being promptly called out by other people in the discussion. But weirdly enough I have seen, for example "bomb that kills all transmascs" (a post that got THOUSANDS of notes), a feminised version of Hitler called "nonbinary transmasc" then a joke about tmasc suicide rates, people literally outright telling transmascs to detransition, people sending forcefem content to transmasc minors, people making fun of transmasc names, people saying transmascs have a lesser understanding of gender, people outright denying that bad things happen to transmascs, people outright denying they are oppressed, I've had one person tell me I'm lucky and privileged for having a womb because most transfems do not, and so on and so forth. And I've seen most of this stuff in the transmisogyny tag specifically. But when I go into the transandrophobia tag, it's just guys talking about their problems as transmascs. It's. Very strange. And I don't doubt that there's some assholes, I can name a couple, but I guess the difference I've seen is that those assholes get dogpiled and called out within the tag and the group of people who frequently post in it. I don't ever see any pushback on any of the anti-transmasc hate posted in the transmisogyny tag. Idk it's weird to me. And when someone says "this is a gross thing transmascs are doing to trans women" I go oh shit, do you have links to this so I can see what is happening and then block them? And I've never ever been provided with any. Just "you're not listening to transfems". Like, I am, which is why I'm asking you to show me these things so I can be aware of them. But they never do.

Yeah, I haven't seen these examples in the wild but it seems there are some weird hostile things like this in certain transfeminist circles, often downstream of a belief that "haha it's punching up so it doesn't count" or "it's just jokes lol, it's not real oppression" (as if bigoted jokes aren't one way people affirm/normalize their bigoted worldviews). I'm genuinely sorry you've had to deal with that and agree that all of those examples are bad. Like, even if all of the people posting those are otherwise completely fair in their dealings with trans men and simply had a bizarre lack of judgment that day, yeesh.

I'm glad that you're invested in keeping the transandrophobia tag from becoming a transmisogynistic echo chamber. It really is heartening that, even if I can find a lot to disagree with there, it seems pretty earnest and respectful towards trans women.

I don't think the primary differences in worldview between people on different "sides" of the transandrophobia "debate" are attributable to bigotry. I think you can hold certain transfeminist beliefs (that transmisogyny is a serious form of oppression and there is no distinct form of oppression that trans men face) and certain anti-transandrophobia beliefs (that transandrophobia is a distinct form of oppression, and often that it's on par with transmisogyny) for reasons other than "unfair hostility towards trans men" or "unfair hostility towards trans women" respectively.

There are ways in which holding transfeminist beliefs can appeal to, reinforce, complement, or justify unfair hostility that some adherents feel towards trans men, and lead adherents to minimize the problems they face. Some transfeminists have messed-up attitudes about trans men that intersect with their transfeminist beliefs, and treat trans men badly. And there are people in these circles who probably "look the other way" too much when someone on the "correct side" says something messed-up or factually wrong about trans men, even if they don't personally agree.

Likewise, there are ways that anti-transandrophobia beliefs can appeal to, reinforce, complement, or justify unfair hostility that some adherents feel towards trans women, and lead adherents to minimize the problems they face. Some people who consider transandrophobia a distinct form of oppression have messed-up attitudes about trans women that intersect with their beliefs about trans men's oppression, and treat trans women badly. And again, there are people in these circles who probably "look the other way" too much when someone on the "correct side" says something messed-up or factually wrong about trans women, even if they don't personally agree.

That doesn't mean that all transfeminists are primarily motivated by bigotry against trans men, or that all people who consider transandrophobia a distinct form of oppression are primarily motivated by bigotry against trans women, or really particularly bigoted at all. There are many reasons someone could find one way of understanding gender oppression more compelling than the other, including differences in life experiences, the views people they associate with hold, or hearing better arguments or seeing better evidence from one side than the other.

I started out thinking that people who considered transandrophobia a distinct form of oppression were primarily motivated by bigotry. I saw them called "MRAs" and I've seen speculation a lot of them will become TERFS, including from people I respected. And generalizations about their motivations led me to predict wildly different things about their discourse than I've actually witnessed from people who hold these beliefs. When modeling them as "transmisogynistic bigots", I predicted a much higher level of overt hostility and mockery towards trans women, a flippant attitude that their problems don't matter, use of stereotypes and slurs, arguments that trans women should be excluded from certain spaces or opportunities, arguments that trans women aren't women or that gender transition isn't legit. Virtually every transmisogynistic discourse I've seen-- from Mumsnet to 4chan to radblr-- involves these features. Maybe they're not --necessary-- criteria for judging an ideology or social space to be overwhelmingly transmisogynistic, but... unless people who take transandrophobia to be a distinct form of oppression are super-duper good at resisting the opportunity to display these views, many of them don't seem particularly hostile to trans women, or like they're primarily seeking a safe space to act in ways that wouldn't tolerated otherwise. It seems implausible to me that you could have a notable, fundamental thread of bigotry against trans women in your spaces and avoid all these memes bleeding through, when they're shared by both left-wing and right-wing forms of transphobia. If the typical person in this discourse-sphere is notably bigoted against trans women, it's in some highly unusual way. Many people who think transandrophobia is a distinct form of oppression also believe that transmisogyny is a serious problem, giving them more overlap in worldview with transfeminists than, like, most normies. I was wrong to generalize them as bigots, even though some of them are likely motivated by transmisogynistic views on a subtler level, and there may be some elements of the discourse that are objectionable.

There are a lot of things floating about in that discourse-sphere I don't find convincing or indicative of super high-priority issues, and a smaller number I find troubling. I've felt some frustration reading posts of people in this camp... Regardless, I do think many people are trying to discuss perceived weaknesses of transfeminist points of view in a fairly sincere way, or discuss the stuff they've personally experienced as trans men.

And, honestly, many of the people criticizing them are doing the same from a transfeminist POV.

[lilacerull0]

hello I miss you I hope you’re still my friend i feel like you’ve distance yourself from me anyway I love you and miss you

I AM OBVIOUSLY STILL YOUR FRIEND I LOVE YOU, I just haven't been online much and I'm bad at social and internet stuff so it was worse than ever lately AND I'M SORRY

[divorcedfiddleford]

it is friday my dudes (little hearts added by @tazmiilly)

[flaming-toads]

So what if I go back to s1e10 of 911 and I enjoy Bobby's little dating profile and think about silly cute ideas about it hmm?! HMMM?!

[rmorde]

Trigun Manga Reaction

Here we go! Chapter 8 Volume... Huh?

Voulme 2? I thought this is still Volume 1. Am I tripping?

Anyway! Just a moment of appreciation for this parody page of he cover.

This while thing is so "busy" yet it still make sense. There's so many elements layering on top of each other. It should be a confusing mess. However, I can still easily pick out the four components that tells a story.

Component 1: Vash as a happy salary man being served a drink by a geisha (judging from the hairstyle and accessory) with shadowed eyes on the opposite end of the page.

Component 2: BDN at the dead center. The text makes it a bit difficult to confirm if he has a top knot, but he definitely is rocking a traditional Japanese look. He looks menacingly at Vash as he drinks.

Component 3: Meryl and Milly running in a hurry but for two clearly different purposes. Meryl looks like a traditional restaurant staff frantically trying to serve a lot of guests. Meanwhile, Milly doesn't look she's working anywhere near the food service industry with her get up and the tool that she has on hand.

Component 4: The Bad Lads drinking in celebration while an ambulance seems to be sounding its sirens as it parked near them.

Look. I may seem to be too obsessed with this gag page but it's crazy how its a fucking busy mess that still works at telling a cohesive story!

With just this two page drawing, I can infer easily that someone is in danger and may need to be hospitalized - so the ambulance was called and asked to stand by. Milly is probably the heroine about to save the day with the overworked yet eager to help Meryl. The party the Bad Lads are having is a big distraction at a possible murder attempt starring Vash as the victim, the geisha as the accomplice, and BDN as the mastermind.

I'M SORRY BUT HOW THE FUCK?!!!

And don't get me started on the scaling of each figure and the silhouettes. Just... I'll just repeat, Nightow is amazing for how pretty AND technical his drawing is. It's so clean. Wow...

Sorry for getting derailed. So, back to the chapter.

Ok. I lied. Let me just appreciate Winter Mery and Milly here. I love them so much and they so fucking cute here with their dynamic pose... solid silhouette... Clean fucking lines... Sorry... Give me a minute!!!

Sigh~

Interesting. So, '98 rearranged the sequence of events here. This happened a bit later... which I think is better. It adds more impact on Vash's duel against BDN.

These guys are no stormtrooper shooters. They having really good aim!

They didn't hit Vash. Okay. Maybe the tails of his coat now have fresh bullet holes, but aside from that, Vash is fairly intact. The Bad Lads have great accuracy.

This is an intriguing way of drawing a spinning gun. It's simple but effective in visually communicating that that is what BDN is doing. A good choice. Thinking about it... If three twirling guns in a blur of circles were drawn, it would be too distracting and BDN will be overwhelmed in the panel.

Cool foreshortening. Incredible detail on the filigree. And a bonus Goofy Face Vash!

So so fucking glad '98 was faithful to the manga with these scenes. Meryl and Milly were such badasses here.

Huh... Well that's a huge difference. There's not much:

GASP! It'S VaSH tHe STampeDE!

vASh ThE StAMpEdE?!

VASH THE STAMPEDE!!!

It can get a bit much... sometimes in '98. So, this is refreshing.

WHAT...

WHAT THE FLYING FUCK?!!!

So, those lines by Miss Purple Avenger from the filler episode were originally from BRILLIANT DYNAMITES NEON?!

I-

Oooohhh.... Pretty art... Wait no... I can't distracted. I'm mad!

I'M VERY VERY MAD!!!

OML! This is much more intense! IT ADDS SO MUCH WEIGHT TO THE DUEL!

Oh my goodness... This nuance... WHY WAS THIS CHANGED?!

Not to say that Miss Purple Avenger and the episode featuring her was bad. It was actually great! Her version of July was nightmare inducing... and her confrontation with Vash was truly tragic too but.... Uhm...uh... AAHHHH!!!! I CAN'T CHOOSE! THEY'RE BOTH GOOD!

Oh... break my heart into fucking pieces will you huh?!

LOOK AT THESE! Manga Vash getting cheered on by the people! People were supporting him! He is being treated nicely as he deserved.

Even in '98! It was not as overt at this page. However, that scene of the captain from the beginning of this chapter replaced these panels instead and is just as effective. '98 Vash has people believing the good in him.

TRISTAMP VASH WAS ROBBED!!! HE NEVER HAD THESE!!! That poor precious boy! The few precious people who supports him only showed up near the end... and... and...

Now getting even more upset again with the Jeonora Episodes in Tristamp!

It's so not fair!

Oooh. A cinematic page!

HOLY SHIT!!! THESE PAGES ARE AMAZING!

I can't believe this. This fight is better in the manga!

I am not dissing Studio Madhouse for what they've done tho. The '98 Duel was epic too! They did great! But all these crazy angles and perspectives in the manga just elevate the overall awesomeness of the gunfight. It's just more immersive.

Tbf to the '98 anime, this is a nightmare to animate faithfully. With the technology and techniques at the time, this would be so difficult to pull off beautifully - going topsy turvy in one smooth motion for two characters at the same time in a fight scene with a complicated moving background? Yeah... The animation staff would go insane. It's totally understandable that they simplified this duel into extreme close ups and strong facial + gun drawings instead.

I hope Studio Orange re-hashes this fight in some way tho... or does the Episode 1 duel count?

Sigh... With the my discovery that Miss Purple Avenger's lines were actually BDN's, and that the outrage towards Vash for not remembering anything about July belongs to the Bad Lads', these words have become so much more meaningful.

It's also now more effective at convincing me that Brilliant Dynamites Neon have hidden depths.

Oh... Ow... The detailing here is just ow for the hands of an artist. Perhaps I overreacting, but those fine lines in the crooks and crannies make me wince.

Once again tag responses:

@revenantghost

Yeah. The more I see his work, the more I'm awed by his skills. That's a cool detail that his design incorporate realism. I thought the glasses are for the light tho? But maybe it's like those the Olympian gunners wore during the competition?

The dead REALLY haunting the narrative? Looking forward to it!

@takeshidude

Ok. Monthly publication are still grueling but at least its not as nightmarish with weekly mangakas. No wonder the quality is consistent with the art. Nightow was allowed to breathe.

You make a good point. '98 did have a bit of a mystery woven into it. We know Vash the Stampede - we follow his misadventures and people kept saying who he is ad nauseam in every episode. However, we don't really know know him for quite a long time. It's a different, but no less interesting, spin to the story.

Which kinda explains I'm misremembering some scenes and characterizations? The last third of '98 made a long lasting impression that I kinda forgot about Vash's horn dogginess.

[tohruies]

ha! 💌 ! except that i’m doing uno reverse and sending one to you! (and especially since you’ve already written it once for me and i even printed it out!!!)

dear coco, so i know how you always want to bring even the tiniest smile to people’s faces! you are the sunshine that peeks from behind the clouds during the cloudy days ⛅️ but i’m smacking you affectionately because oftentimes in your selfship dynamics you mention that your dear beloveds soothe your heart after you give it away to everyone around on an open palm — and you should listen to that inner voice! ✨ treat yourself first, be a little selfish, make sure to feel comfortable before you comfort others ❤️‍🩹 let me tell you again — i am shaking you and telling you this because a happy and healthy coco guarantees even more happy people around her! 🥺 i love your prose, love your poetry that you sneak so elegantly in between sentences and paragraphs — it’s been a while since i’ve read anything from you and i understand that there are things that you must focus on first, but no matter the passing time, yours will always be one of the styles that inspired me the most in my writing journey on here! 🥹 your presence here has been influencing my life in the most positive way ever since becoming mooties with you! you always put so much thought into remembering everyone’s personalities, lives, preferences and stories! 🌸 but i wanted to make sure that you know how it also feels to be on the receiving side of love (though i know i’m not the only one adoring you so much and certainly there are so many others who would stand right beside you if you only needed a shoulder to lean on) 🩷

༼ﾉ ´༎ຶ ﹏ ༎ຶ༽ ﾉ *: ·ﾟ💌 when manu wears the biggest ever size of meanie pants ever... /silly

(i will acknowledge & respond to your own 💌 to me in the tags, if that's okay!! 🥺 oh my goodness 🥺🥺)

3 days later and i think i have finally collected myself enough to respond to this WAH... I AM SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING MANU! 🥺 i am uno reversing your uno reverse >:3 hehe, i remember that i wrote you one of these last year, in april!!!! it's always been a difficult month for me, so it made me really happy + meant the whole world to be able to write something for you and have you receive it with all the love in your heart 🥺 so much so that you even printed it out (i cried tears of joy last year when you told me that AODKJFAJ i am so sorry 🙈). i hope you don't mind that i give last year's message a sibling LOL, with what i am about to say to you now!!!! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ω⁄<⁄ ⁄) 

dearest manu mousie, manu the great, my manumimii!

where do i even begin with youuuu ;w; /pos!!!!! maybe i can start with how much i love (and also fear /lh, because you are truly so... omniscient lol!) how perceptive you are... the way you make people feel seen (exhibit a, the contents of this ask asdfghjkl) and look so deep into their hearts... i think you are incredibly excellent at analysing people and charaters /POS and i feel like this is very evident in your fics and character studies!!!!! it is due in large part to your introspection which is another thing i love about you :D and why i think i find a great deal of comfort in you 🥺 because i am always especially drawn to these kinds of people!! people who you don't need to wear a mask around because they will be able to see through you anyway... it's very soothing in a sense to know that you are like this 🥺💗 and it only inspires me to be more perceptive too!! i hope i can be as caring and kind as manu is some day, heheh (๑•̀ᴗ•́๑)  💗

which brings me to my next point—i love all the ways in which you are quietly kind and looking out for your friends—again, as evidenced by this ask, wah... BUT ALSO!!! in how you do other things for them! 🥺 little blurbs in their mailbox (i revisit that xiangli one you wrote me not so long ago) or even drawings!!! perhaps i don't ship with haitham anymore, but the doodle you gifted me last year has always been a widget on my phone :3 and it will continue to be!!! that was the very first time anyone had ever drawn me something just out of the goodness of their heart, let alone gifted me anything of the sort!!!! 🥺🥺 so it is something i hold really really close. it makes me smile SO BIG!! and kick my feet all excitedly to see you do that for your other friends here too HEHE—when i look at femi's pfp... vana's pinned... i am reminded of just how big and bursting with love that your heart is 🥺💗

i love how much you have grown on here over the past year. ⭐️ in terms of your writing—which has been such a pleasure to witness over time how you've grown into a style that is so distinctly manu!! 🥺🥺 because like! 🥺 i remember so distinctly a certain post you made last year about wanting to improve your writing and your vocabulary and finding your 'own writing voice' 🥺 look at you now!!! with your lush descriptions and rich prose and dynamic characterisation, IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!! AND PROUD!!! and i hope you too, are proud of yourself friend 🥹💖 even aside from your writing, i'm so glad that you have grown more comfortable here in sharing more personal posts about yourself hehe AND OF COURSE YOUR SELFSHIPS!!!!!!!!!! :3 i am also very glad about how you have lots and lots of friends on here now!!! that all love and cherish and uplift and reassure you in the way you deserve to be 🥺

i'm just really happy you are here with us, babie. i hope you won't take it the wrong way when i say this, but i really do believe that you are so much stronger, kinder, and easy to love than you think yourself to be! 🥺🥺 i hope that you can continue to work on being less hard on yourself, and i hope that all your friends here can help with that in any way you'll let us!! i hope you will continue to share more of your heart with us here and let us cradle it and soothe it when you need it. i hope your studies will treat you as kindly as they can, and that you will succeed in them :3 i hope you know that all you need to do is try your best!! you have a beautiful brain and a tender, loving heart—so i am sure in due time that all the good karma will be returned to you 🥺💗 making you a steaming cup of pink chai with a dollop of condensed milk in it, and gently rubbing your hands in mine to warm them up 🥰 we love you so much manu, not just for all that you do for us, but for just simply existing as you are, and letting us bask in the warm light you radiate 💖💖💖

[disastergenius]

you know, for all the complaints that "Campaign 3 is not a simple YA story with clear cut morals and choices," Imogen sure is built like a YA protagonist

[pigeonclaw]

the amount of times I have potentially controversial opinions that I type up and then save in my drafts forever because I still feel them but am too shy and afraid to choose violence in any way

[ghostfacetheballfondler]

you can't destigmatize mental illness by playing into respectability politics

[primus-why]

.

[zlobonessa]

one aspect that always fascinates me about the witch cult is how much they are used-to-be humans-but-now-not-really-are. they were just people who sometimes were good in the way people are and sometimes were bad in the way people are. and then their lifes had been altered by powers so fundamentally that they just. lost touch with any humanity that they had. how do you comprehend being a hundreds years old? how do you comprehend being able to kill a human as simply as a mosquito? how do you comprehend being beyond time, beyond aging, beyond life and death, beyond your own body, beyond your own memories? it's a horror scenario accepted willingly, horror where instead of running from monster you shake its hand and convince yourself that that's all you ever wanted, because the alternative? the alternative is the existence so miserable you'd rather die than go back. the existence that may ask you to take responsibility for your actions, navigate your own life, change who you are as a person.

they cannot do that. they never could do that. they live for years and years, having powers to do literally anything and yet led by instructions in the book, further and further conservating in the state they were from a start, the moment they took a deal.

doomed from the beginning. never having a chance to escape. never wanting to escape, instead allowing your humanity to slowly seep away as a price for not bearing the weight of that it means to be human. damn.