#Mac screams to the Void

[citrus-cactus]

They're sooooooo catty in this ep I'm love them

[groovygrub]

I'm drunk and watching mac's dance scene while crying again, thats how you know its pride month 🌈

[elmo-f-tree]

they should invent a getting submission comments from professors on assignments that does not cause my self confidence to take a nose dive and my anxiety to skyrocket

[omegaverse-anesthesiologist]

My brother sent me his playlist and it’s really really good. As a younger sibling, however, I am slightly annoyed that there is nothing here to make fun on.

[rainbluealoekitten]

no but the fact that it usually takes me hours to fall asleep but the second i crawled into bed while we were on call, i was drifting off, and it wasn't even 8pm yet

[hhjs]

.

[waywardtrek]

All i’m saying is: to my knowledge, there’s now a officially a metric shit-ton of Sunny promo spanning all the eps EXCEPT for ‘Dennis Takes a Mental Health Day’ like what the heck

…i am so ready to see whatever the hell we have in store for it... come what may, straight or gay (gay.)

[tardistimeladyyeah]

Week six y'all let's go

[citrus-cactus]

Macbeth Mac Findlaech enjoyers of Tumblr, we need to unite. We need to organize.

[insertdisc5]

✨COOL THINGS I PLAYED/SAW/READ THIS YEAR, 2024!!!!!!!✨

✨MOVIS✨

Knight of Fortune was such a delight. karl's wife is dead-- he has to go to the morgue. to see her one last time. SURPRISINGLY funny given the theme, and incredibly sweet. AND you can watch it in its entirety on youtube

american fiction! incredible movie that made me think. what does it mean to tell "our stories"? what does it mean to show "representation"? how authentic can you truly be about your own lived experience? funny as hell too

if you havent seen Monkey Man, quite frankly i dont want to talk to you. dev patel i will watch whatever you make for the rest of time

the rest under the cut because this list got long

playtime by jacques tati. just slapstick. oh my god this was so goddamn funny

yeah you know it. i was very strong the whole time and then the credits hit and i started sobbing uncontrollably in the theater

challengers and i saw the tv glow are tied in first place for my favorite movie this year. incredibly funny and SO WELL EDITED. highly recommend watching it with friends so you can scream "OH NO HE DIDN'T" together

✨TV SHOWS✨

SHOGUN!!!!!! oh my god there is so much to praise in this show. the costumes! the actors! the story! how they integrated both english and japanese speakers in a realistic way! so good

korean reality shows are not fucking playing around. the editing and sets are truly top notch

✨BUUKS✨

-Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah! what if black mirror was actually good. AND centered the stories of black people. highly recommend

-Character Limit: How Elon Musk Destroyed Twitter by Kate Conger and Ryan Mac! you probably were on twitter when The Whole Thing happened. maybe you dont know the exact details like i do. what if the details were worse i also dont read non-fiction very often, surprised at how fun this was to read!

-The Chromatic Fantasy by H.A.! I've been following their work since forever, and this was a delight to read as always! THE COLORS…………. BITES BITES BITES BITES

-sad girl space lizard. hell yeah (18+ only!)

-Gritli - The Moth Diaries by Sophie Florian und Hanako Emden! this one was just so strange and fascinating. per words of the authors: "Taking on the voices of anthropomorphic animals, the authors write about labour, companionship and crushing."

✨VIDY GAMES✨

skipping balatro, splatoon side order, fields of mistria and webfishing, because you probably know about those. uuuuh

i am too stupid for Void Stranger, but My God if you're smart this game will become your favorite game ever. 2D sokoban with so many secrets

marchen line!!! nth circle never misses. the visuals here are so fun!!! the UI! the plot! the almost-automatic-censoring when you see gore, as if your mecha body took a second to load!! hell fucking yeah

"adrienne, of the devil was this year" OH WORD? THEN EVERYONE SHOULD PLAY OF THE DEVIL'S FIRST EPISODE WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

life after magic! magical girls are now adults, and magic is disappearing. what now? the art is so cute, and the story was very engaging. thank you for the additional episode with [spoilers]

i started nine sols and i think i might be enough of a gamer to beat it

shadow generations game of the year no contest. thank you for your time

you can also look at my massive list of stuff i played/watched/etc here. i am not posting this whole dang thing

[brattypagansub]

A by no means exhaustive list of the times 141 didn’t understand meal construction

Soap calling dinner a bowl of sausage links

Simon with instant noodles at two am because he misses Johnny and couldn’t sleep (Soap was on an op and turned him onto the three minute ‘meal’)

Price eating an MRE because he’s too tired and lazy to cook something

Gaz eating a handful of snacks and calling it Gucci

Soap eating cheese at three am by fridge light because hyper focus

Alex Keller eating nothing but the homemade ribs in the fridge.

Simon deciding that a protein bar definitely counts as dinner

You know the saying ‘let them eat cake?’ Soap took that to heart and had three slices for breakfast last Wednesday

Every single one of them eats a piece of loaf bread as a meal

Price eating ravioli out of the can

They eat an apple for lunch sometimes but more often than not. Its used by Gaz or Soap to yeet at Simon and Price’s heads when they make them mad

Microwave Mac and cheese is apparently a go to meal for all of them

Now if you’ll excuse Laswell she needs to go scream into the void

[laswells-ashtray]

I have returned from the depths of the void that's called depression! :D

Anyways, hello again. Ever since I've been reading your posts of different rambles and all that about different cod characters Mac has somehow wormed his way into my heart. (Curse the Scottish characters somehow always worming their way into my heart)

Something that I thought of while trying to catch myself up on some things I've missed was what if Mac was the one who got hurt on a mission instead of Price? Either by the usual occurrences or even trying to protect Price on a mission. Or even possibly being left behind on purpose by another captain that was willing to do anything necessary to get John on his team, even if it meant leaving a fellow captain behind on a mission to the enemies.

(Also I'm slowly starting to try and get over my fear of asking not anonymously, which I think is a good thing for me. Makes me happy about it. :D)

Always try to keep your depression with a sword and eat some yoghurt. It's the only way. Anyway, hello anon. I am proud of the people telling me that I've made them a MacMillan fan because I know fuck all about that man and I just write him based on the people around me and their Scottish-isms.

John wants to scream. He wants to scream and break everything in sight, storming through the lifeless halls like a twister. His fury sporadic and terminal.

He doesn't, he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth and holds it until he hears another beep, breathing out.

Captain MacMillan is a highly sought-after man, proficient and minacious. He's virtue. Righteousness in the shape of man. A blinding beacon of integrity, the type of good that stings to lock gazes with because it isn't achievable in any other form.

Now, he looks half-dead and human. Painfully human. The dread drapes itself over John's shoulders like a weighted blanket. The room feels glacial, goosebumps racing up John's arms as his eyes linger on the blanched face of his captain.

The room is dizzying with timelessness and eternity. It feels ungodly. Like those interminable moments in a confessional as you await the man who cradles your absolution. There is no salvation here, only silence and wasted breath.

Every part of him aches, the lingering prickling sensation under his skin is torturous. He has no injuries, only reluctant hope to get him by.

Mac doesn't fit on the bed, his shoulders are too broad as is his waist, and his legs are too long. The bed is fit for John, the man who belongs in it. It was his originally but he'd never known a Scot who wouldn't dive in front of a bullet like the scar would be a badge of honour.

The bullet should've pierced his flesh, blood should've wept from his wound and he should be the one with a machine monitoring his heart rate. Not Mac, never Mac.

He should've been pacing around John's hospital room, a string of thinly veiled Scottish threats as he glowered at John's unconscious figure. The sergeant should've woken up to his captain ranting and raving at him, skelping his lug before pulling him into a bear hug and letting John slump against him as he radiated heat and comfort.

Instead, he stares at the body of one Captain MacMillan and no one stares back. No dark blue eyes, like glaciers crashing down into the ferocious, thrashing waves below to offer him consolation in such a dull, pallid room.

Truly, he's alone. The entire building reeks of chemicals, antiseptic doused over every molecule in the foundations. It's sterile. There's no scent of Mac's Vaseline men's deodorant that smells as ridiculously cheap as it looks. He's never smelt a deodorant that dries out your lungs quite as effectively as that one, he longs for that smell so much that it throbs in his chest. There's no faint smell of cigarettes because Mac had decided his life's mission was a lung cancer diagnosis, John can't remember the last time he smoked. He'd had to leave the room to do so.

He wants the other man to wake up, wants to scream himself hoarse and shake him until he gets the message. His life is not with more than John's.

He sighs, uncrossing his legs and lifting his elbows from the arms of the chair to cross them over his chest as he slumps back in the unbelievably firm, craped seat by MacMillan's bedside. He tries to blink away the stinging in his eyes as they watch the rising and falling of the Scotsman's chest.

If he tries to listen past the beeping, he can almost hear it.

"Am awright, son."

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 11 : tiring night

Wukong got a pretty bad nightmare, but Mac is here.

TW : blood and injuries + depressive thoughts

It wasn't the first time Sun Wukong dreamt of this. His nights were a realm of pain, fictional places where all his fears surged in to torment his helpless self. He didn't know if his nightmares were something his own mind created as a form of torture, a repentance for all the blood he drew, or if they were a curse casted by the souls he mercilessly hurts. A part of him was glad to suffer, pain was the most effective drug to drown guilt, another was ashamed to ever have such weakness. 

This particular nightmare was recurrent, and by far the worst of all, not because it inspired fear, but because it crushed his suffering heart without any mercy. It was the worst because, unlike any other, it wasn't fictional, it wasn't a made-up twisted story created by his subconscious, it was real, it was a memory. 

A memory that haunted him, reminded him of what he was, of what his heart was made of. 

The dream always began with the same scene, like the old tale of “Once upon time”, except his dream didn't begin with a faraway castle and a well-loved family, but with a golden monkey overwhelmed by his own feelings, sitting on a cliff as he wondered where it all went wrong. 

Sun Wukong was looking at the endless blue, legs dangling in the void, shoulders crushed by his own guilt. Tripitaka chased him out, fed up with his violent ways, not trusting his pleas even if he was right. It hurted to not be heard, to be disregarded with ease, as if his words meant nothing, as if his mouth could never utter a single truth. He wondered sometimes if his master saw him as anything other than a beast needing discipline, he wondered if he could be something else, someone worthy of being heard. 

Was this how his moon felt when he ignored his warnings ? Sun Wukong never thought not being heard could be this painful, he almost felt sorry for his beloved friend, but then he remembered their fight, under the mountain, and any trace of guilt faded away. 

Sun Wukong loved Liu'er Mihou with all his soul, but the once pure hearted feeling was now twisted with hatred, the lightness of it replaced by anger, and longing. Yes, perhaps Sun Wukong shouldn't have screamed, he shouldn't have been so spiteful, especially since Mihou had been the only one caring enough to visit him under the mountain (some brothers he had). The sage had been at fault for a lot of things, and Mihou's anger was justified, to a certain extent. But Sun Wukong never thought that one measles fight would shatter their bond. 

He thought their relationship to be eternal, like the sun chased after the moon above heaven. Sun Wukong loved him like he never loved before, he loved him as if he was part of his own soul, and even if he never shared this feeling, too scared to confess, he at least thought that Mihou was fond of him. 

So when his dear Mihou never once came back after their fight, leaving him to rot for hundreds of years, wallowing in misery under his prison, he began to hate him. And it hurts, to hate the one he loved, but he couldn't control his own heart, and let the feeling fester inside of him, engulfing his heart until the entirety of his love began to be tainted by poison. 

It was easy to resent another when you spent years trapped and tortured. People always said that love and hate were two sides of the same coin, and Sun Wukong couldn't help but agree after living with a heart longing for his best friend, but loathing him at the same time. 

Everything was wrong. 

His best friend was out there, probably loathing him for eternity. The majority of his home was burned by heaven's fire, most of his monkeys lost to the flames. And his journey, the quest supposed to quell his guilt and make him better, was out of his reach. 

Was he doomed to feel like this for the rest of his pitiful life? To feel so hollow, unworthy of even breathing. He was a bad friend, a bad King, a bad pilgrim, mayhaps he was simply a bad person, someone unable to attain goodness. 

He wished for something, any feeling truly, to burn him so he could escape the emptiness that drowned him. He would gladly dive into any feelings to avoid this misery, either it be joy or pain. 

Heaven decided to grace him mercy, once again pitying his somber existence. Sha Wujing came, at first accusing him of hurting their master, before pleading (once he realized Sun Wukong couldn't be the one hurting Tripitaka ) for his help. The sage would normally be elated to help, seizing the chance to regain his rightful place, but the void in his chest didn't let him be pleased, preventing him from tasting joy. 

Sun Wukong was at the edge of something, he didn't know what it was, either madness or wildness, but he knew he would soon be consumed. It was always like this, his feelings bottled up inside of his chest until they blew up, and he was consumed in painful flames, blind to everything. 

The sage followed his brother with false enthusiasm, the golden lie so familiar he wore it naturally, as if it was really his skin. 

Everything came to a halt when he saw who, exactly, was the threat. Someone was wearing his skin, leaning over his master with a twisted smile, claws coated in blood. Sun Wukong wondered if his deepest desires, the ones wanting to lash at the monk for ever hurting him, took form to finally quench the hatred raging in his bones. 

The sage used his golden eyes, and his heart stopped living when he saw the truth hidden behind well-crafted illusions. Mihou was standing before him, wearing his face to hurt his master, sulling his name even more. Sun Wukong felt something break inside of him, perhaps he had hoped that his oldest friend would one day come back and explain why he abandoned him. Why he left him to burn alone under the mountain even when he knew that the sage feared loneliness, something Sun Wukong never confessed to anyone but him. 

But life was cruel, and the hatred Mihou harbored for him was seemingly deeper than he had thought if the other was willing to go this far to hurt him. 

Sun Wukong roared, and pounced on the man he loved, pushing him away from his bleeding master. Mihou rolled in the dirt, his illusions shattering when he caught sight of the sage. 

"Why are you here?" Spat the sage, holding firmly to his last shred of reason, not willing to be consumed yet. 

"I'm saving you, you idiot! Now let me pass and finish what I started!" 

"You're not making any sense, Mihou. I don't need saving." Replied the King. "Besides I thought you didn't want to be near obsessive demons."

"You're still hung up on that?" Sun Wukong gritted his teeth, how could the other brush aside their fight like it was nothing was maddening, especially since it led to his moon abandoning him. 

"I will not repeat myself, leave or I will fight you."

"Stop joking, Sun Wukong. They're hurting you!"

"They are disciplining me."

"Don't lie to me! I saw it all, how they don't trust you, how they don't listen, how they use this wretched crown to bound you. Stop fooling yourself, they don't care about you." The sage's heart stuttered, his deepest fear being thrown at his face without mercy. 

"And what, you're supposed to care about me !? Don't make me laugh!"

"Take that back! After all I did for you you dare to-"

"All you did for me!? And what exactly did you do!? Leaving me to rot for centuries, abandoning me like a coward! Peng was right about you, and I was stupid to ever lo- care about you!"

"This… you don't think that." Mumbled the macaque, face shattered by horror. "You're just angry."

"I will say this once, Liu'er Mihou. I am not forced on this journey, I am doing it willingly, because I want to change. I want to be better. Leave me alone, coward, I don't need you."

Liu'er Mihou pounced on him with a shrill cry, his lovely face twisted by fury. Sun Wukong fighted him back, losing himself in the madness consuming him. The fight was a blur of blood and cries, of tears and roars, Sun Wukong didn't even know what he was doing, everything seemed to fade away, only leaving him and the man before him. He wanted to make this feeling disappear. He wanted to feel better, to feel cared for, was it impossible for anyone to love him ? He fought with no thoughts, letting his instincts reign over his body, mind drowned by insanity. 

He distantly heard his master mumble the tightening spell, perhaps he was causing too much mayhem in his fury. The circlet crushed his head, but he didn't stop, pushing through the pain that blinded him. He wanted to destroy everything, then maybe the world itself would hurt like he did, then maybe those feelings would fade away.

Sun Wukong pinned Mihou to the ground, hovering above him with bared fangs. He lifted his staff, mind burned by the need to win, the need to survive, the need to feel worthy. 

"I love you."

Everything stopped. As the staff descended upon his moon, he felt his madness disappear, pierced by one simple whisper. He wondered if he heard wrong in his frenzy, if his sick mind distorted the words. But Mihou looked sincere, gazing at him with pleading eyes. Sun Wukong felt his grip on his staff loosen, because even if some part of him resented Mihou, most of him still loved him. 

But then the crown tightened, pain seized him and pushed purely by instinct, by the need to make it stop, he struck down. Sun Wukong cried and held his head, burying himself in the heaving chest of his moon, staff still firmly clutched in his palm. The crown finally stopped to crush him, and he looked up, relieved. 

He was faced by the horrified face of his moon, the staff piercing his eye, crushing one side of his lovely face. Sun Wukong threw away the staff as if it burned him, he looked at his friend with a hammering heart, hands trembling. 

What did he do ? He never… he was angry, but he never wanted to… 

"Looks like I won, coward." Spat the sage with a heaving breath, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. "What? You're not going to reply?"

Sun Wukong waited for his moon to spat something back, anything, but silence was the only thing that graced him. 

"Come on, Mihou. You're not going to let me win so easily, right?" Chuckled the sage with a wavering voice. He put his hands on the macaque shoulders and shook him. "You… you want to scare me, that's it? That's low even for you, come on, I'm not even falling for it." But his dear friend remained still, face veiled by the last emotion he felt : betrayal. "That's not funny, Mihou. Wake up already!" 

Sun Wukong took the warrior's collar and shook him more frantically, not caring about how mad he must seem to the other pilgrims. 

"Stop that ! Answer me! Mihou! Come on, you… you won alright. Please just, stop that." Mumbled the King, he began to lower his friend, and pressed his face on his chest, breath struggling when he didn't hear his heart beating. "Please, Mihou. Answer me… I-I'll come back, I'll ditch the journey, just please, stop that." His friend didn't reply, and Sun Wukong cried. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Come on, Mihou, you're stronger than this! Please, please, j-just, wake up, please, Mihou, I-I can't…" The sage gathered the bloodied warrior in his arms, trying to keep him close, as if his arms could keep death at bay. "Come on, Mihou. Please. I-I… I love you too. I never told you. I thought you hated me after our fight, I thought you abandoned me because you wanted nothing to do with me. Come on, you can't leave me like that after confessing. Come on, Mihou, wake up. I love you, I love you so much, come on."

"Please, don't leave me alone, I love you."

Sun Wukong woke up with a stuttering heart, he looked around, panicked, and latched on to the warrior sleeping at his side, burying his face in soft ebony locks. His breath was ragged, his mind unfocused, everything around him was painful. Each time he dared to close his eyes he saw the battered corpse of his warrior, he saw blood dripping from his claws, his hands spoiled with the worst sin of all, the death of his friend. 

He remembered the years of guilt he endured after his journey, the years of avoiding the moon at night as if it was the deadliest of poison. He could still hear his master's words, how he talked about fate, “you did good Sun Wukong”, as if what he did was right. He remembered how he pushed his sorrow away until it couldn't bother him anymore, walking as if he didn't kill himself with each breath he took. 

He remembered how, sometimes, he hated his moon for tormenting him, for making him live through this pain. Sometimes he would let hatred poison his heart, painting his old friend in a horrible light simply to lessen the guilt eating at him. Piling lies upon lies to explain his sin, searching for the one responsible, the one at fault. He couldn't hate his master while on the journey if he wanted to remain sane, and hating himself led to thoughts so somber he didn't even dare to utter them. So he hated his moon. He kept doing this for years on end, until he was freed from the journey, but even then the habit was so imbued in him, he couldn't stop. Because hatred was easier to live with than guilt. And he scorned himself for daring to think that even for a moment. For daring to think that Mihou would want this, would want to tear his heart with the memory of his death. In the end, he didn't dare think about his old friend at all, avoiding every thought, every feeling like the plague. Memory of kinder days locked away in the confine of his mind, disgusted with himself each time his cowardice pushed him to hate rather than to wallow in guilt. 

"Hey, you’re okay?" Mumbled the warrior, voice quite rough around the edges, still tainted by slumber. Sun Wukong didn't dare to reply, only latching closer, wanting to feel the life hum inside of the ebony monkey. Macaque turned towards him and pulled him closer, arms kindly encircling him, like the dew veiled the earth at dawn. Sun Wukong was tucked under the warrior's chin, pulled together by light touches and the ghost of a purr. 

The sage breathed in, inhaling the scent of the other, losing himself in the feel of his arms. The vision of his dream disappeared, chased by the strong humming heart of the warrior. Sun Wukong looked up, gazing at the tired face of his moon, at the way his eyes shined with fondness, and he cried. 

It would be so much easier if he could truly loathe this man. But even while poisoned or drowned, torn and twisted, his love substituted, and every lie he ever told himself about this man crumbled each time he saw the truth, the kind heart behind it. 

"Rough night, hm." Whispered the warrior, he wiped away his tears and Sun Wukong leaned in the touch as if it could heal everything that was ever wrong with him. "You think you can fall asleep again ?" Sun Wukong shook his head, not wanting to relive his nightmare. "Yeah, me neither, wasn't exactly a kind night." The sage looked at the warrior, he noticed the way his pupils shook, the way his hold was still and oafish, as if his body was made of wood. It wasn't the first time Macaque was like this, he was becoming more and more weak as the days passed, and the sage was beginning to worry. But the warrior asked for nothing, even if he threw two or three longing gazes his way. Sun Wukong dived further into his arms, awkwardly patting his back, offering a weak excuse of comfort. "Hm, you wanna take a breather outside ?" The golden monkey clinged harder, not wanting to part even for a moment, even for walking outside. "Okay, let's stay here for a bit then."

Macaque pulled the sage on his chest, and Sun Wukong curled on himself, his tail tightening on the warrior's hips. They laid here for hours, the warrior petting him softly, fingers flowing in golden locks, twirling them abstently around his claws. Macaque took a peach lingering on the table beside the couch, he cut some slices for the sage and nibbled on the rest. Sun Wukong weakly ate his slices, the sweetness of the stone fruit appeasing his sore throat. It was quite embarrassing to be handed slices, but he was too tired by his own feelings to care. 

He felt guilty, at times, for using his warrior's kindness. For he knew Macaque wouldn't do this sort of thing if he knew the truth. But he couldn't stop. It has been a week. And each day he told himself he would reveal the truth, each day he pushed the talk away. But he couldn't help himself, each soft touch, each light moment soothed something inside or him. For once he wasn't crushed by guilt or hatred, for once his love wasn't tainted by another feeling. He became addicted to his warrior's laugh, to the way he patted him, the way he cared in an odd way. Each day he discovered a new side of the macaque, something that wasn't there in kinder days, and it was enthralling. 

It had been a long time since anyone cared about him that way, especially someone he, himself, loved so dearly. And he couldn't help but latch on the feeling, even if he knew it was wrong. 

"Why are those brats awake this late again ?" Grumbled the warrior, Sun Wukong looked up and chuckled when he caught sight of the macaque's pinched face. He was on his phone, the bluish light softly illuminating his face, the sage wiggled his way upward, popping under the macaque's chin to gaze at the phone. "Hey yo- you're curious about my phone now?" Snorted the warrior, the sage chirped excitedly. 

The sage read their chat, hiding his snorts at how everyone was dubbed in the group chat. 

The chaos child : you know, you're scolding us for being awake late, but you're the same emo boy, y are you awake, huh 🤨? 

Everyone's favorite : ooooooooo, she got you there! :3

Mama Mac : I'm an adult, not the same. 

Everyone's favorite : I'm an adult in the eyes of society. 

Mama Mac : you're under a century, you're a baby. 

Everyone's favorite : not fair! I'm not a demon! 

The chaos child : don't worry monkie bestie, Macaque is just an old man. 

Mama Mac : Hey! I'm in my prime! 

The chaos child : don't lie to yourself, you have the habits of an old man. 

Mama Mac : I do not! 

Everyone's favorite : nah, it's true. When you type you use one finger. You know we're using no slang because we know you wouldn't understand, that's a true old man move. 

Mama Mac : I'm not used to the phone!! 

Everyone's favorite : lol, “the phone”, he said. 

The chaos child : you whine about your back every time. 

Mama Mac : try sleeping on a couch with a stone monkey on top of you! 

The chaos child : on top of you, huh~, that's sus 😏

Mama Mac : don't even begin! 

Everyone's favorite : oooooh, the gays monkeys are gaying :3

Mama Mac : when will you drop this? 

The chaos child : never! You're his hubby! 

Everyone's favorite : shadowpeach for life <3

Mama Mac : what even is this, shadowpeach ? I'm not his husband, I'm just taking care of him. 

The chaos child : “taking care of him” he said, as if it wasn't gay. 

Everyone's favorite : I know right ? That's so gay. 

The chaos child : you caaaaaare about him! 

Everyone's favorite : you looooooove him! 

The chaos child : Macaque and Sun Wukong sitting in a tree. 

Everyone's child : K.I.S.S.I.N.G

Mama Mac : I don't even want to know what this is. 

The chaos child : he doesn't have the reference, 🙃. 

Everyone's child : old man through and through. 

The chaos child : true. How's the King? 

Mama Mac : I'm young for a demon. Wukong's alright, we had a rough night. 

The chaos child : aw that's suck. 

Everyone's favorite : you alright? You're cuddling I hope. 

Mama Mac : yeah

The chaos child : yeah you're alright, or yeah you're cuddling with the King? 

Mama Mac : both 

Everyone’ s favorite : Aw <3

The chaos child : picture! Picture! Give me!!! 

"Those brats I swear." Chuckled the macaque, he put the phone upwards, resting his chin atop of the sage's head to take a picture. But the fool forgot he let the flash on, so they both hissed like angry cats. The picture sent itself in the group chat, and the two kids went wild. Sun Wukong snorted discreetly at their overthetop reactions. 

Everyone's favorite : omg, two angry cats! <3<3<3<3

The chaos child : in the blackmail file!!!! That's so cute ❤️❤️❤️

Everyone's favorite : in the shadowpeach file!!! 

Mama Mac : what's shadowpeach? 

The chaos child : it's your ship name with Mr King! 

Mama Mac : I don't have a ship, I get seasick, and Wukong doesn't know how to swim, he sinks. 

The chaos child : you sweet summer child

Everyone's favorite : I can't, this is hilarious Mei. 

Mama Mac : I don't understand 

The chaos child : don't worry. 

Everyone's favorite : you'll understand one day. 

Mama Mac : you're both weird

The chaos child : and proud to be! 

"You never told me we had a ship." Mumbled the warrior with a raised eyebrow. Sun Wukong let out a confused chirp because he knew nothing about a ship. "Yeah, maybe those kids are just weird." Snorted the macaque as he unconsciously nuzzled the sage, Sun Wukong nuzzled back eagerly, tail widely wagging. 

This was nice, he wanted it to last. 

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[satansfavoritefirecrotch]

Anyone else sitting in their greenhouse, listening to Fleetwood Mac and screaming into the void?

Just me?

[according2thelore]

Holy heck I found the mommy dean tag in your blog and immediately devoured everything under it 😭😭😭

Yall, I've been screaming mommy!Dean to the void ever since I got back into Supernatural, but my friends won't listen to meeeeee.

Dean does NOT slack off mommying! He did such a good job!!! Look at that 6'4 moose???!!!

Dean: *looks at 15yr 6 foot gangly Sam* Damn?! How'd the hell did you get so tall??? Who fed you??

Sam: "You?????"

My personal headcanons are

- That Dean totally has a stash of recipes that he made/collected over a period of time from cooking for Sam [like the exotic Mac & Cheese]

- That Dean had personally setup some sort of make shift bassinet in the impala just so that Sammy more comfortable

[lol ignore the glaring warning for vehicular safety (haha But would John care? Let's be real)]

The last head canon is from my actual childhood where (according to my grandmother) my older sisters tried to make the 7hr drive more comfortable for toddler me when we were running away from a bad home situation.

Urghhhh sorry for the rant, parentification of fictional older siblings are my absolute faves!!!!

hi, anon!!!

we ARE mommy friendly on this here blog--your friends don't see the vision, but we do, anon 🤝

Dean: *looks at 15yr 6 foot gangly Sam* Damn?! How'd the hell did you get so tall??? Who fed you??

Sam: "You?????"

AHAHAHAHA anon that sent me through the ceiling! and AGH! i totally love those headcanons! the bassinet 🥺🥺 that's so sweet that your sisters did that for you--what a beautiful thing!

i can 800% see dean making one! as long as it got sam to sleep and kept dean occupied (leaning over the bassinet every few minutes to make sure sam was still breathing okay), john would be fine with it, lol!

and you're totally right about the recipes--they start with his crazy, scraggly writing from when he was five (mic 2, 30 sekets, most of the letters are backward) and get more mature as he gets older, and the recipes get more complicated. they're on motel pads of paper and napkins and the backs of sun-faded receipts.

one of my personal headcanons is that the one school year sam did soccer (if you remember dean's nostalgic joy about it ("one of the only times you were allowed to be a real boy")), dean attended all of his practices. at first, it was so he could keep an eye on him, because he wasn't used to leaving him alone--and they were in town for a hunt, after all--then he told sam it was so he could hit on all the other soccer moms.

but they talked about local gossip ("did you hear about monica's husband? died on a hunting trip!") and kid-rearing tips ("we use gatorade when jeremy's sick because of the electrolytes" "vaporub will save you, but you can make some of your own using XYZ" "wait, you put WHAT in mac and cheese") and dean still uses the safety-pin-in-the-seam trick they taught him when he has to do a quick repair on his jacket.

you could always find a line of moms on the bleachers with their dye jobs and underlined eyes, and a fifteen year old dean, tobacco stained fingers and four layers of shirts.

dean cheers when sam makes a goal even in practice, and sam gets upset if dean is distracted and misses one. the moms all call him "dean's sam" and sam fuzzes warm and happy when dean leads him away with an arm across his shoulders because yes!! in fact, he is!!

no apologies AT ALL!!! i completely agree--parentification (esp dean's parentification) makes me bite straight through cardboard, lol!

PLEASE rant with me about mommy dean anytime you like!!!! i LIVE for it!!!

-lizzy

[quitealotofsodapop]

Ok, but imagine Macaque's emotions directly after the Egg is laid in slowboiled. It had really only just sunk in throughout the season that Wukong, his former mate, was pregnant and had likely been pregnant since long before the JttW had ended if any of the rumors had truth to them. He only just came to the conclusion, mainly prompted by instincts and the actions of LBD when she possessed a pregnant monkey, that he wants to try to be Wukong's mate again and isn't even entirely certain if that would even be allowed with all the beef between him and SWK and his actions towards his mate and his new troupe hanging over him, especially his actions towards Wukong's successor and adopted cub (although neither seemed to have realized that yet).

And then, almost as soon as he's come to that conclusion, maybe even during the much needed conversation between the two where he tells Wukong this and is asking for his blessing/permission to act as his mate again after EVERYTHING he had put the Monkey King through (some of which not even Macaque had fully understood or knew at the time), the Egg decided it's time to make an appearance.

Macaque is barely coming to terms with the fact that he's going to be a parent, only just reconnected with his severely weak and heavily stressed out mate, and the baby is already here.

referencing.

Yeah, Mac is seconds away from screaming into the void (which he can do; shadow powers) once the reality of post-LBD battle sets in.

Him and Wukong def have a lot of talking to do over the journey back to Megapolis in the TEA. Not only talking about the Egg and what that could mean for them as a mated couple, but also about why Macaque felt the need to target MK and the crew previously, and why he made the deal with LBD in the first place.

And of course once they resolve a bunch of shared emotional bagged and start cuddling for the first time in centuries; the Egg decides its Go Time.

Macaque is in the middle of an emotional rollercoaster with the birth of the Stone Egg, Wukong going into a healing coma, the reveal that he himself is carrying two of these super-dangerous Stone Eggs, and the fact that the noodle shop gang are still super distrusting of him.

He honestly latches on to his monkey instincts to care for his mate and troop because otherwise he's an emotional mess. Once Wukong is awake and Yuebei is hatched, Macaque is able to hide a lot of his emotions "for later".

And of course by ignoring his own issues, this leads to Macaque and Wukong having a fight just before S4. This in turn leads to Mac not being around when Wukong gets Scroll'ed, and Azure shows up and accidentally kidnaps Yuebei. Macaque has to dive into his own Memory Scroll issues with MK in order to find and reunite with Wukong and say sorry.