#and trying to find the motivation to keep on going for like

[freakenomenon]

wooly crash-outs are so much scarier than amanda crash-outs to me. like genuinely within the context of amandas entire emotional turmoil and what shes been going through for 20+ YEARS stuck with the instincts , emotional coping skills and developmental strengths of a traumatized 8 year old , her getting angry is only scary to me because we know what shes capable of when shes upset. not because she has explicitly malicious intentions. shes a child who doesn't know her own strength.

WOOLY HOWEVER.

almost nothing is confirmed about him, nothing is set and stone with him. and ( at least in the sequel ) even the slightest slip of script , does not sit well with him. not to mention that , while amanda herself openly states that she doesn't find him scary. the ENTITY is scared of an object that merely RESEMBLES him. while i don't think wooly is some big scary bully who is intentionally going out of his way to make himself appear bigger as a defense mechanism like amanda is. one thing i do think is very interesting is the fact that , amanda is never afraid announce her annoyance , frustration and downright RAGE towards the viewer when they fuck with her patience. while wooly , immediately masks his anger the moment it slips out. filtering it, and or channeling it as some kind of "this is whats best for you!" scolding. which is more terrifying to me , simply because. it also seems like he's not used to amanda not listening to him. everytime shes ever truly lashed out at him when hes trying to keep her in line, hes shocked. almost offended. and at the very most. hurt

and we've never seen him GENUINELY fed up until the storytime tape, where he was likely forced to keep it together because there was an audience. or at least someone to call out his bullshit.

something thats also noteworthy is that wooly. is not good at his job. or at least what the majority thinks his job is. hes very obviously there to keep some kind of eye on amanda. but from what it looks like he can't properly put his foot down anymore because his ( and amanda's ) emotions for the past 20 years are all coming to a gruesome bubbly front. hes always had this attitude of genuinely caring for amanda at some points , but also caring way too much about the show for it to actually be helpful. and when all of that frustration comes to a head I DO NOT WANNA BE HERE FOR IT.

holy mother of yap this is long. TLDR ; wooly is a very interesting and dynamic character and you lot would have so much more fun if you actually looked at him from a less black and white perspective and realized he can ..not be a good person while also having motivations and reasons as to why he is the way he is.

[n0vazsq]

Not ever | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader

summary . . . Marc was always somehow clingy, but after his injury, he became a bit too clingy

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.6k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . died also idk anything about ACL injuries so i js treated it like a broken leg

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . Marc Bernal was a stubborn man, but you’d learned by now that stubbornness came in many forms.

Before his injury, it had come in the form of determination; hours on the field perfecting his form, late nights reviewing game footage, and a strong power to push through any challenge.

But now? Now, his stubbornness was all about you; keeping you within arm’s reach, clinging to you like his very life depended on it.

"Amor," he called softly from the couch, his voice laced with despair. He was propped up on a fortress of pillows, his leg elevated and wrapped securely.

Despite his injury, he still looked annoyingly good, hair slightly messy and those brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Where are you going?"

You paused mid step, holding his empty water bottle. "To the kitchen. You drank all your water, remember?"

"But what if I need you?" His eyes widened, and he gave you a look so pathetically sweet that you almost felt bad for him. Almost.

"Marc," you said, trying not to laugh. "I’ll be gone for two minutes."

"Two minutes is too long," he protested, holding out his hand. "Come here. Just for a second."

You sighed, walking back to him. The moment your hand touched his, he pulled you down onto the couch, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. "Marc! You’re supposed to be resting your leg!"

"I am resting," he said, nuzzling into your neck. "See? I’m very comfortable now."

"You’re impossible," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your face. His arms tightened around you as if you might disappear if he let go.

"I’m injured," he reminded you, his tone almost whiny. "I need my girlfriend to take care of me."

"I am taking care of you," you replied. "That’s why I need to go to the kitchen, so I can bring you water and snacks and everything else you’ve been demanding all day."

"I haven’t been demanding," he said bitterly, though the effect was ruined by the way his lips were brushing against your shoulder. "I’ve been… asking nicely."

"Uh huh. Sure."

Marc pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Kiss me, and I’ll let you go."

"You’re bribing me with kisses now?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It’s not a bribe," he said, leaning in closer. "It’s motivation."

You rolled your eyes but indulged him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed in satisfaction, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as if to keep you there forever. When you tried to pull away, he pouted.

"That was too quick," he complained.

"Marc, your water…"

"Stay," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always made your heart flutter. "Just for a little while. Please?"

You sighed, knowing you were fighting a losing battle. "Fine. Five minutes. But then I’m getting your water."

"Deal," he said quickly, his grin triumphant.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was slower, deeper, and so full of affection that it made your chest ache. His fingers laced through yours, holding your hand tightly as if to attach you to him.

"You’re so clingy," you teased when you finally broke apart.

"Only with you," he admitted without hesitation. "You’re my favorite person, mi amor. Why wouldn’t I want you close?"

Your heart melted a little at his words, and you couldn’t resist brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "You’re lucky you’re cute," you said, and he laughed softly, the sound warm, making your heart beat slightly faster.

"I’m lucky to have you," he corrected, his voice serious now. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’d survive," you said lightly, but he shook his head.

"Not like this," he said, squeezing your hand. "You make everything better, even when I’m stuck on this stupid couch with a torn knee."

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could say anything, he shifted, pulling you fully onto his lap. "Marc!" you yelped. "Your knee!"

"It’s fine," he said, his hands settling on your waist. "You don’t weigh anything. And this is much better, don’t you think?"

You glared at him, but he just smiled up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," he countered smoothly, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away when he was looking at you like that, his gaze so full of love and adoration that it made your heart skip a beat.

"Maybe," he admitted, his smile softening. "But you love me anyway, right?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. "Yeah, I do."

"Good," he said, pulling you down for another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, and so full of emotion that it made your chest ache. When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes fluttering closed.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "So much."

"I love you too," you said softly, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. His eyes opened, and he looked at you with so much tenderness that it took your breath away.

"Stay with me," he said again, his voice pleading. "Just for a little while longer."

You knew you should get up, that he needed his water and you had other things to do, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. You nodded, settling against him as his arms wrapped around you securely.

"Just for a little while," you whispered, and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"That’s all I need," he said, his voice soft and content.

For the rest of the afternoon, you stayed there with him, his arms holding you close as if to remind you that you were his, and that he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

As the hours passed, you found yourself completely wrapped up in Marc's presence, your body nestled comfortably against his. It wasn’t just the physical proximity; there was something about the way he held you that felt so secure, so comforting.

He didn’t want to let go, not even for a second. It was almost like his need for you was more than just emotional; it was something deep. You could feel the way he’d tighten his grip on you when you tried to move, pulling you back toward him with a quiet insistence.

"Amor, you’re not going anywhere, right?" he murmured into your hair, his lips brushing against the top of your head. The soft sound of his voice, laced with a quiet desperation, made your heart flutter in your chest.

You looked up at him, giving him a soft smile. "I’m not going anywhere, Marc."

He gave you a small, satisfied smile, but it didn’t last long before his lips were finding yours, the kiss gentle at first, testing, almost as if asking for permission.

His hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. When you responded, kissing him back with the same tenderness, he deepened the kiss, his body pressing closer, his knee injury forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to savor every second. You felt his breath quicken as his hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he kissed you harder.

There was no rush, no urgency, just the overwhelming feeling of him needing to be close to you. His lips were soft against yours, his kisses lingering as though he couldn’t bear to pull away.

When he finally did, it was only to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed like he was memorizing the way you felt.

"I just… I need to be near you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your fingers, the simple act of touching him grounding you. "I’m not going anywhere, Marc. I’m right here."

His arms tightened around you again, pulling you onto his lap, despite the injury. You felt his breath hitch as he shifted carefully, but he didn’t let you go.

"Good," he murmured, his lips brushing your neck in a tender, slow kiss that made your heart skip a beat. "I’m so lucky to have you."

"You’re lucky to have me?" you teased, lifting your head to look at him. "I think the luck’s all on my side."

Marc laughed softly, his hands gently caressing your back as he settled you more comfortably on his lap. "You have no idea how much I love you," he said, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten.

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back to look into your eyes. "You’re everything to me. And I want you to know that. Every day, always."

You could feel your heart swell at his words, your own emotions rising with every touch, every kiss.

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time, as if you could convey everything you were feeling without words.

Marc kissed you back with equal intensity, his hands moving to your waist, gently pulling you closer.

"Stay with me like this forever," he whispered between kisses, his lips tracing over your skin. "I never want to let you go."

You smiled, kissing him again, more passionately this time. “I’m not going anywhere, Marc,” you repeated, as if your words were a promise, a vow.

And he believed you.

[miss-tc-nova]

With Reckless Choices - Leona Kingscholar x Reader Pt 10

Happy Starlight everyone! My gift to you! We're gonna switch POVs for this one. I just wanted to show a bit of how Leona's handling things.

Premise: Leona after the break up

Words: 729

Music Inspirations: Monsters - All Time Low Feat. Demi Lovato & blackbear

~~~Vices~~~

               Leona glares at the ceiling, his empty chest keeping the lion from escaping the waking world. Cold morning light rains through the window onto his lonely bed. A savanna breeze whispers through, bringing with it hints of the world he never wants to see again.

               Nothing has been the same since the event that led to the biggest blowup of his life. He finds no light anymore and barely finds the motivation to even breathe. Even the naps he used to escape the world bring him no solace. Instead, the world just passes by as he confines himself to his room waiting for the moment all this pain will finally end. Having tasted life, he finds no reason to go on without.

               A jingle pricks at his ear. Lazily, his head lolls to look at the device he’s surprised still has any battery left. Reaching out, his hand acts without his head’s permission.

               That’s Ruggie. Heaven knows how he’s still on the team with how much practice he’s missed.

               Still…

               How dare his heart still hope.

               It’s been nearly a full year since he last saw his love—on the day of the Briar Prince’s wedding. He made the mistake of thinking he found someone that genuinely cared about him. He thought that, for once, he would be the first pick. Leona Kingscholar had fallen so deeply in love that it blinded him to the real world and now he’s paying the price. Reality firmly put him back in his place and snubbed him for even daring to think he could be happy.

               But no, he never had a chance. Instead he was insulted, screamed at, and told to stay away. Right in his face, his heart was torn to pieces and stamped into the ground even though he wore a snarl the entire time. Leona was never meant to win. Especially against that damn dragon. 

               Despite all the pain it caused him, Leona kept his mouth shut about what happened. He could’ve spilled the truth and thrown the illustrious Draconias under the bus for all the heartache caused. Yet every time he so much as considered revenge, his heart quashed the idea. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy their reputation, all because of his stupid feelings. No matter how he cursed himself, there was no changing his decision.

               To make matters worse, his family insists on trying to help him through a problem they’re grasping at straws to understand. He wants none of it and acknowledges no effort—hell, he barely even acknowledges their existence anymore. Leaving his room is a rare occurrence, so they often sit with him. Sometimes they have their own conversations or talk to him without answers, sometimes they simply sit in silence as they go about their own tasks, but the worst of all is when they turn on the television. Oftentimes, it’s his nephew watching some silly show. However, Falena and his wife like to watch the news. The news is always filled with ridiculous stories that are easy to ignore. It’s the ones that mention the Draconias that always stab at his chest. Where they were seen dining, where their honeymoon had been, the event they attended, what they were wearing. Of course he can’t help peeking at the screen when that happens, but even just hearing about them brings fresh lashings against his wavering stability.

               Those are the nights the sand grates against his skin. He doesn’t know any other way to drown out the grief.

               “Unca Leo! Unca Leo!”

               His door bursts open without even a knock. The mattress shifts beneath the excited jumping of the cub despite the lack of response from the elder prince.

               “Guess what?!”

               The family chamberlain is quick to follow.

               “Prince Cheka! Don’t bother your uncle!”

               That does nothing to deter the young lion from shaking his family by the shoulder.

               “Papa says we’re going to a birthday in Briar Valley!”

               Leona’s body tenses.

               No.

               “Cheka!”

               Faster than he has in a long time, the elder lion reaches for his phone. Scrolling through messages he shamefully re-reads, he feels the vice in his chest. His grip creaks around the device as his hand shakes.

               No.

               He knows better. He knows he shouldn’t. But he’s so pathetically helpless.

               “When are we leaving?”

               Fuck.

~~~~~

Part 11 (Coming Soon)

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[koifishhies]

Yess you’re so right about her perception of him changing after the dinner!! Don’t mind me I’m gonna yap about this now.

The way I see it, his job is a kind of special interest / hyperfocus for him, so while he’s working he’s completely locked in, and past the point of caring about masking and forcing himself to appear friendly. The thing with autism is that, for me at least, socializing and connecting with people isn’t something you can casually do on the side; you have to put in active effort into “acting normal” enough to do that. And that’s really fucking exhausting. For Alec, pairing that reality with the fact that he fumbled his last case partly BECAUSE of his personal relationship with Tess getting in the way, I can totally see how he forgoes even trying to put in that effort at all. He drops the mask and completely zeroes in on the task at hand.

Because of this, he’s direct and blunt and disregarding of social etiquette, and it comes across as cold and rude. Paired with all the trauma he went through with Sandbrooke making him a generally pessimistic, depressed person, the people in Broadchurch end up disliking him (if “shitface” is anything to go off of).

But then you take him out of work—and not only that, but put him in a position where he actually has to try and connect with these strangers, and socialize just for the sake of socializing—and he’s immediately awkward and unsure and doesn’t know what to say. It’s the horrifying moment where you realize, oh shit, I am in a Situation, and I have to try and Act Like A Human. And you’re all tense and frozen up and a little too hyperaware of your every action, and next thing you know you’re going on a rant about how unnecessary first names are and your coworker and her husband are looking at you like 😃😃

I feel like seeing this completely other side of Alec gave Ellie more perspective about him, and made her realize that the earlier actions that ticked her off didn’t come from a place of rudeness and entitlement. It was just cuz he’s not very good at socializing, and prefers to get straight to the point. In reality his motivations are quite sincere.

And she’s just kind of like, oh, okay. And adjusts accordingly. Simple as that. Which is so fucking cool!!

Mind you, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t voice her opinion when something he does outright bothers her. She’s quite vocal about that, and that’s fantastic. She’s open and understanding about his perspective while also setting boundaries.

Their interactions are rough at first, misunderstanding and butting heads, but they keep compromising and bouncing off each other enough until they find a balance. And if you notice, even out of work, Alec is never the level of awkward and tense again like he was during that first dinner. Because he’s not masking around her anymore. They’ve genuinely connected on a level that works for them.

And it doesn’t really go much deeper than that, because it doesn’t have to. And I just really like that.

I just love how broadchurch (unintentionally) made an autistic-coded detective, but instead of going the sherlock route they made him just. a guy. he’s not special in any way, he’s not a savant, he’s just kinda There and Traumatized About It the entire time.

like alec hardy wants one thing in life and it’s to do his job, but he’s also constantly faced with the unfortunate reality that his job Sucks. he’s also actively dying half the time. and that’s it that’s his character.

also he’s not a twink like most autistic coded savants in media, and I may not be a middle aged dad but that’s the kind of representation I can get behind

[dykedvonte]

I find your takes on Jimmy's behavior patterns interesting, especially in regards to how he treats Curly.

What do you think is the cruelest vs kindest he's ever been to him pre crash? Curious about the range; what Curly might hope is potential for better in him vs the biggest hit he was willing to take in hopes Jimmy became better before everything imploded.

I always find this question fascinating. The question of what Curly will tolerate towards himself vs towards other's with Jimmy.

The fandom creates this misconception around their dynamic due to a lot of hindsight we have and a lot of emotional/relationship dynamic gaps being filled. We assume Curly has to be equally as dependent and unable to regulate/understand his feelings towards Jimmy as Jimmy is to him as we never really get Curly's motives or inner thoughts towards Jimmy. I personally think this is far from the case and while still unhealthily attached to Jimmy he is still very aware of him, doesn't believe he'd ever go as low as he did in the game but knows he's petty/vindictive to an abnormal extent.

I think it's important that in HFIM he (Jimmy) is represented as a parasite on the fish rather than a real, helpful and needed part of him (Curly). It is something that slowly kills the fish if left unchecked or there are multiple (coughP.Ecough) and the fish would live better without but can't get out by itself. A parasite in which the specific method of latching is rather gory/unpleasant for the host the whole way through. I see people use this parasitic relationship as an example but never actually look at the specific relationship exemplified. How it is one formed without any consent or real want of the host but they are stuck in it no matter what they do, so they must adapt or be killed. In the games unfortunate circumstance, it just doesn't affect the host.

Jimmy on the other hand likes to test the waters, likes to see how deep he can really latch onto Curly so he can never really be pulled out, not without doing more unnecessary damage. I've said it before but I think they have breaks: Curly does have enough of a backbone to separate himself from him when he can, when the circumstances allow but he's not willed enough to keep him out, not when Jimmy inevitably finds a way to latch back on and sink deeper. Pulling him out again just rips more out of him, makes him less sturdy to it, drains more. He can take the parasitism. He thinks he's taking it.

As mentioned previously, Curly can't get/cut Jimmy out of his life alone. He will inevitably give him another chance because Jimmy will do something to make him think he deserves it. He will clean himself up. He will try to keep a job longer than a month. He will be polite, civil. He won't ask for a favor and if he does it's small and he'll repay it. He worms his way back in while also pushing others out. Anyone who claims it's all an act again or he's just doing it to get back in Curly's good graces just doesn't get him. They don't get them. Curly's upset he's seen it over and over again, the dip in progress, the lows. But the peaks get higher each time, he can't leave when he sees how good Jimmy is doing. He's scared without him the next low will be his last. Jimmy no doubt put that idea in his head.

But to answer you question: I don't think Jimmy's cruelty towards Curly's comes not from actions but conversations, the way he's conditioned Curly to view himself as underserving to complain. He's rendered him unable to talk about his pains because by "objective" comparison he's always worse off. I don't think its one cruel dismissive act in this vein but multiple, the act of uncaring and disinterest while also demanding the same attention Curly so desperately craves from anyone not just Jimmy. The want for his friend to act like a friend and be so purposely shut down or condescended to when he just needs the shoulder to cry on he always provides. The emotional relief he gives him returned.

I imagine he's told him to suck it up when pets die, to quit shaking when a career deciding meeting was about to happen, to get over and just "fuck someone new" when he has another failed fleeting relationship the few months back on Earth. Maybe it's said within a joke to make it less sharp, maybe with the same "You have it to nice to be acting like this) attitude. It's that type of cruelty that breaks him down and makes it harder to ignore that Jimmy truly doesn't care about him, does not have the same desire for him to be happy like Curly has for him. Jimmy doesn't really try to hide it either and he just never would outright say it. He calls it tough love, saying its just how he is and Curly doesn't know how much longer he can actually take it if it's really true.

Curly is willing to keep taking these hits in hopes Jimmy realizes how he hurts others, how it hurts him with every dogged look or abrupt end to a conversation. It doesn't and every time he's almost ready to just give up. If Jimmy won't be kinder for him, the only person that's still there for him, why continue to bother? Why believe he'll change.

Kindest? The fact he always tries to come back? That he stayed his friend and such a close one despite how long he'd be gone. That Curly is the one he calls and trusts and lets him know that. Curly has friends, we know that, but we also know they don't know him. Maybe they never did or maybe because of his job, the distance made it harder to keep knowing him. Jimmy didn't always work there and yet he stayed, close enough so that Curly was never alone when he came back. That he didn't come back to friends shocked he was coming back or a dozen new faces that were new at family gatherings/the news of who passed. He chose to remain consistent for Curly, with Curly, he never changed for Curly. That's how Jimmy explains it whenever Curly needs a reminder that he's not so bad. He's physically hear for him, he's something that's set and that already more than Curly should be asking for considering all he has. Curly thinks it's a major kindness considering no one else has done it for him.

I feel like people mischaracterize Jimmy in that he does not take pleasure or gain a feeling of superiority from the direct act of being cruel. He'd get nothing from directly making Curly hurt cause it's fleeting but he likes when Curly feels bad and lesser cause he can imagine it's lesser than him. When it's something he knows is gonna be a lasting mark. His kindness likewise if supposed to be a kiss on the initial boo-boo he makes. Purely for Curly and shallow. Jimmy likes Curly, I don't think him seeing him as a friend is debatable, yet we can question how utilitarian he does view friendship in general,

[narrators-journal]

NSFW alphabet: Vash the stampede

A bit more in-depth exploration of my take on Vash. I’m not TOO happy with it, but it’ll at least flesh him out for the time being, and I can always return to this if I want to clarify some shit later. Hope you enjoy regardless!

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Vash is a very good partner for aftercare. He’s always sure to dote and love on his partner after sex, and it doesn’t even have to be rough sex, he’s just always sure to check on his lovers.

B= Body part (favorite on themselves and their partners)

Vash doesn’t really like his own body. He views himself as either a monster or a failure depending on the day, so he hates himself too much for a favorite anatomical part.

Weirdly enough, Vash strikes me as someone who likes his partners eyes more than anything. They’re just so expressive and bright! Full of life!

Other than that, he’s a bit of an ass lover.

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Vash doesn’t strike me as someone who likes the taste of cum, but he’d swallow if you told him to.

D= Dirty secret (Their dirty secret)

Vash seems like he’d be a top, and he can be a top if his lover demands it, but in his soul. In his core, that bitch is, and wants to be, a bottom.

He has a praise kink, even if he can’t take a compliment to save his life.

E= Experience (How experienced are they?)

Despite his flirtatious attitude, Vash is not very experienced at all. Between his distaste for his own body, fear of hurting others, and reputation, he doesn’t get a lot of action despite being pretty.

F= Favorite position (self explanatory)

Sad to say, but I do think Vash is a bit vanilla when given his way. He’d prefer probably missionary, maybe fuckin’ his lover against a wall if he’s feeling spicy lmao. That being said though, he’d try any position his partner wanted so long as it wouldn’t hurt you too bad.

G= Goofy (Are they more goofy or more serious in the moment?)

Vash is a very goofy, light-hearted lover. He’d crack jokes, he wouldn’t take it too seriously, and he’d just do whatever he could to curb the anxiety that comes with his reputation.

H= Hair (How well groomed are they? Do the carpets match the drapes?)

He is a bit in the middle of grooming levels. He doesn’t bother too much with shaving (or really washing tbh) but he keeps it in check at least. Same with his hygiene

It’s not like he’s a garbage pile, but he’s definitely bushy.

I= Intimacy (how are they in the moment? Romantically)

Vash is a veryromantic man. He’d take his time, he’d lavish you in attention, and he’d be an utter gooball if you let him during sex. Or in general, honestly

J= Jack off (masturbation habits)

Vash barely, if ever, masturbates, honestly. He’s pretty low on the sexual need scale, so the urge doesn’t hit too often.

K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink is probably the easiest one to pinpoint, but he also has a bit of a degredation kink, maybe a lil masochism

He might also have a breeding kink. Just a lil.

Maybe a tiny, itty bitty part of him also might get off on how feared he is. He’s the big bad humanoid typhoon, oooo fear him lol.

L= Location (favorite place to do it)

Vash is not picky at all. The desert, a car, an alley, the inns and hotels he can find, it does not matter to him.

M= Motivation (what gets them going and in the mood?)

Compotency. Compotency is probably his biggest turn on. With guns, with their job, it doesn’t matter what his partner does, so long as they’re compotent he’s into it.

Aside from that, honestly if his lover’s just. Into him, it gets him going a good number of times. Vash is not a picky man, he just has a low sex drive.

N= No (What are their turn offs)

As I’ve stated on the headcanons, Vash is pretty okay with being called a slut, but when you dip into using ‘pathetic’, ‘worthless’, and other harsh, non-sexual insults to describe him, he’s not much of a fan. Tis the horrible self image.

While Vash is a very accomodating for his lovers with a lot of fantasies, one thing he won’t play into is anything like step-brother, daddy, mommy, anything family-related.

God help you if you’re at all aware of Knives in any recognizable way, because Vash sure as fuck won’t feed into that lmao.

O= Oral (preferences on giving/getting, skill, etc)

Vash doesn’t mind either way on whether he gets or gives oral. It feels good to get, and it makes him feel good to give, so either way works for him.

If he had to pick a preference though, he’d definitely go with giving rather than getting.

P= Pace (are they fast, rough, slow etc)

Vash’s pace very much depends on his lover’s preference. When left up to him, he’s pretty medium though.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on them, how often)

Honestly, Vash kind of prefers quickies. They give him an excuse to not strip entirely and it gives him a thrill to be so desired that you don’t care about getting caught.

R= Risk (Are they game to experiment? Take risks?)

Vash is a bit middle-of-the-road on risks, admittedly. He’s not that easy to kill or really hurt, so he’s fine with being the guinnea pig if you want to try cutting him or menacing him with a gun.

He’s a little less eager to be risky when you ask him to choke you until passing out or something.

When it comes down to the risk of being caught, he’s actually shockingly into it, so long as it’s a risk exclusive to when he’s mostly dressed.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go?)

Thanks to being a plant and not at all human, Vash has a wonderful stamina! He can run through the desert for an entire day, and he can go multiple, multiple rounds in bed.

T= Toys (Do they have them? Do they use toys on themselves or partners?)

Vash loves to use toys on his partner. Especially if it saves him having to expose his scars and whatever he deems ‘ugly’ about himself.

if you let him, he'd use an array of toys on you, in some pretty creative ways.

yes, he would use a remote controlled one on you throughout the day.

U= Unfair (Do they like to tease?)

While Vash is a very playful man, and he’ll edge you if asked, he tends to not tease too much.

That being said, he’s still a bit of a tease. Whether it’s with simple flirting, or quick touches or the like.

V= Volume (How loud are they? What noises do they make? Etc)

Vash can get a bit noisy if he gets too into it, but for the most part he strikes me as p good at keeping his voice down lol.

W= Wild card (Just a random headcanon about the character)

I aint got nothing sexual, so I’ll just say. I headcanon he and Knives each have odd proficiencies, and Vash’s is his skill for accuracy with projectiles.

Like, even before he honed it to the level its at now, he’s always been weirdly good at hitting targets with thrown shit.

X= X-Ray (What’s going on underneath those clothes?)

He is at least a healthy 6-6.5 inches down there

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Sad to say to all the vash girlies, but I don’t imagine he has a high sex drive.

I lean towards he’s likely demisexual, so I don’t entirely see him being a hoe regardless. In situations where he is one, I imagine he can go years upon years between hook ups.

He’s like a crocodile in that way lmao.

Z= Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep after?)

Vash technically doesn’t even really need to sleep regardless of activity beforehand, so I imagine it’s a bit hit or miss with him.

Some nights he takes a few hours to sleep, others he’s out like a light, basically on command.

[herbarimoon]

This year's art summary!

More mha! More izkt! More green and more purple? This one seems darker than the previous year, but I feel like my works became more detailed perhaps? It seems like there's definitely more going on here

Previous years! ⬇️

You can actually see when my mha brainrot started lmao

I got my first drawing tablet in 2019, I was drawing digitally before that, sure, but since then it became more serious to me ig?

Don't remember much of 2020, I couldn't use my pc for some time and then ig I just didn't have any motivation, in august I made an account on twt and started drawing again

In 2021 I got into eighty six anime, it was the first fandom where I got sorta recognised for my art, I guess there my love for symbolic angsty illustration showed up for the first time, tho this phase didn't last long

I didn't have a summary for 2022 so I had to quickly throw together smth, it was pain in the ass cuz all my works were scattered in multiple folders, and I had some trouble finding pieces for some months so I had to put wips into january and april

2022 was also a year where I struggled the most with my style, I was lost and didn't know what I wanted to create, it was only after I got into mha I was able to find joy in drawing again

In 2023 I got into mha and became obsessed, I don't even know how it happened but before I knew it I was drawing nonstop, I stated getting more attention and support, I feel like it really helped me to keep going, bit by bit I was figuring out how I want to draw

And now we're in 2024! I'm trying to put more work and thought into my works, I feel like I've finally found myself, I used to struggle with sticking to one style and aesthetic, but now I've learnt to just draw whatever the hell I want

I'll keep improving myself to become even better next year! Thank you for your support!

[icarusredwings]

This only fits into my idea that Wolvie is demi. Sure he knows someones hot when he sees them but he dosn't really... feel anything.

He's been alive so long that people doing stuff to him just feels... kind of annoying at this point? Like yeah, okay, in Logan the drunk wife girl flashed her tits at him and he snorted, and rolled his eyes all embaressed but I don't think this counts as "hot and bothered." I think this counts as "omg lady calm down lol im just the driver lol" he did think it was a nice gesture but its an empty gesture and thats why it dosn't really do anything for him.

I think this is why he and Kurt get along so well (HERE ME OUT) Because one of kurts biggest "flaws" is that he is extremely touchy, and while the other x men cant touch logan much or lean on him, sit on him, etc, Kurt can full pearch on him and Logan dosn't care. Actually he does care. He's glad. He's happy that Kurt feels this safe with him. Happy that he feels comfortable enough to be around "the angry guy with claws". Happy that Kurt openly gives him affection without there being this weird "okay now we have to fuck" silent agreement. Logan is so tired of trying to get to know someone, cuddle them and hug them, without them immediately expecting them to sleep together. (*JINGLES KEYS* Stay with me!)

And i mean... no.. hes not sex repulsed clearly but it dosn't feel right in his chest. To fuck someone and then they leave. Wolverines mate for life so I think the thing is, what gets him hot and bothered is proving youll stay. Sticking it out with him through all times, telling him you're never going to leave him.

Then- Oh good golly then? Everything is horny worthy. You could just be sitting there and he'd get all pissy because now hes horny and mad about it. You could cassually bring him food and say you thought he might be hungry and he'll let the food get cold because hes too busy fucking you, and then eat the food after to show gratitude and appreciation.

Logan is not meant for hook up culture. He is made for "Our souls are so intertwined that seperating us would put a tear in the universe."

He could see someone whole ass naked and just blink and ask where their clothes went. You could tell him that you want him to do the dirtiest things and he'd probably just blush and think you have alternate motives.

I like to think that he does sometimes finally accept a hook up here and there simply because A. Why not. He hasnt been held in awhile and B. Why not he's literally gonn live forever might as well get some tail if they're offering.

But if and when he finds that person(s) he's locked in. Theres nothing no one else could do that would make him all hot and bothered. Someone could literally give him a lap dance and hed probably just sit there confused as hell, tell them stop, or just leave. It doesn't do anything for him at all.

Now litsen (at least in Finding Home Au, cause theyre married) Wade could come slip into bed with him, very gently rub his arm, kiss him goodnight, then cuddle into his back and Logan would automatically sit up and glare at him cause now hes hard.

"Why do you keep doing that?! Stop!"

And wades all confused "stop what?" Cause hes genuienly tired, but too bad cause Wolvie puts that baby to sleep a different way. (Best sleeps of his life btw)

Morph too, I feel like in 97 morph gets a lot of passes for jokes and touchiness. I also feel like that for the first week (maybe a month idk logan is dumb) or so logan thinks moprh is joking and dosnt actually care about him in that way, so morph starts saying more genuine and sensitive things to him and Logan now is actually blushing, still in denial but is catching butterflies, hoping that morph isnt lying but is too scared to make a move, worried their friendship will end.

Man idk what to say about storm. Logan was hot for storm the first time she punched him in the face. Idk what to tell yall, hes a simp for that woman and I am too so like I get it. Id be terrified to fuck storm though if I was litTERALLY MADE OF METAL like bruh he has more balls then me cause id be scared shed kill me after I ate her out by electrocuting me with my skull crushed between her thighs. ANYWAY

🫡🫡GLORRRY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE 🪖🪖💪

I think Logan would be very difficult to get hot and bothered. Like. He's been through so much yanno?

Like flash a titty at this man and he'll probably be like, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Can't you take me to dinner first?"

[werecreature-addicted]

That photo u reposted of a grumpy werewolf in a Christmas sweater reminds me of Ceaser, the mean jock werewolf u used to write ab. Low-key miss him and I'm imagining him being reeeaallly bad on Christmas. I'm talking stuffing you full before meeting the family and making you keep it in you with a candy cane themed plug he got for you- saying shit like "Better start now so that next Christmas there's three of us coming to this gathering.". (I'm imagining him doing this after they get married hehe)

Jealous, mean Ceaser who decides to fuck Ur ass in the bathroom as well because you had the gall to like someone else's gift more than the one he got for you. How fucking ungrateful can you be? Brings an extra plug just so u have a reminder of who you belong to and how you're meant to act. And man- FUCK your vampire cousin. That snotty shit can't go one minute the whole dinner without bragging about how great it is being a vampire whilst making digs at werewolves (he's only been a vampire for almost a month). Not to mention the judgemental stink eyes your cousin stares at you.

You have to drag Ceaser to another room and try calm him down by maybe sucking his dick or atleast comforting him with kisses and small nips on his collarbone as you tug his sweater down. Gotta remind him that you chose him and he chose you- fuck whatever your cousin says, he only became a vampire because he went on a spiritual journey in the woods when really he was just manipulated into a cult.

You and Ceaser, who leave the party early because turns out those plugs weren't just for keeping stuff in. He's such a fucking cunt for teasing you and you can barely make it to the car without stumbling a bit. Blame it on the eggnog. As soon as you get in that car he turns it up to 100 and you cum so hard it actually brings tears to your eyes.

You who, when you get home, act all pouty and stuff because he made you cry on Christmas. Just because of that bratty attitude he only fucks your throat for a whole 12 days just to teach you a lesson because he is a fucking asshole.

Hehe. I miss this wolfie <3

i still write about Ceasar in theory i am just Depressed and can't find the motivation to write really.

Anyway, this was a lovely little image. Ceasar making your Christmas memorable by knocking you up <3 fucking you even harder if you complain about it.

[xxswagcorexx]

thinking about that ashswag testrun ep......

[astralnymphh]

WELL. F MY LIFE THEN. JUST F IT. now i have to indulge in a commentary reblog.. we know i only do this with masterpieces such as the one i'm about to ramble under.. here we go! gracie has gone and done it again.. my descent to madness is evident in each comment made

Her bed was made.  That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space.

ugh this eerie symbolism.. like it's such a simple thing (AESTRA TRY NOT TO BE INFATUATED WITH SIMPLICITY CHALLENGE) but at this time and in this story, it digs a deeper meaning. just the observation of aberration and shiftings within a room someone has been rotting in. it curdles in the spine quite hauntingly. very nicely done!!!

After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it.

this too!! like hello?? memories stippling so hard into one that it affects the other senses.. i can, like, feel the torment beaming off this little paragraph; the torture of a vision, and now an abnormal taste no one should know. jesus..

She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood.

THIS!! JUST LIKE THE FIRST PARAGRAPH! it's so simple but put so oddly that it creates this whole other background.. it's like a storm slowly brewing. it does accentuate and ascend to ellie deciding that she wants revenge (Hah. Like the band), because she is finally lifting herself from the rot that leeched. nothing can motivate a person besides an idea. a desperate, destructive idea.

It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob.

whenever i hear that someone is releasing what they've "bottled up" i tend to view it as a purely emotional thing and not a physical thing that you see besides crying. but it's everything that makes up the cry. the air, the breath, the upwards movement of extrication, the squeezing of warmth in your eyes. truly an art in itself to nail crying in a written form. makes ellie feel so much more human.

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning.

jesus cunt.. jiminy christmas.. what else am i supposed to say but JESUSSSS.. POETRY..

Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit.

THIS IS SO REAL THO?? IT JUST IS?? i'm so finitely sure this is a part of what dina felt at times. like, oh my god. to not watch your lover transform—but to watch your lover transformed, and to have missed this change in the blink of an eye. when had this monstrosity begun, and how deep does it go? thank you gracie for having such a blessedly perfect understanding of ellie from a lover's perspective!!

You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it.

same as this one. to see this twisting of a woman, and understand immediately that she is wrong; she is not correct nor incorrect, but she is in the tooth too deep, rotting it to a point of loss, what she needs the least. she wants to find and serve justice, but she will only drive it away. you can't push hard for anything.

“Els?” You snap her out of her trance-like daze. She has not said anything in about an hour. Your voice is soft and so is your touch on her shoulder. You want to try to pick her brain, something you have been unsuccessful at doing the last couple of weeks. She winces.  “Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse.

AGAIN. WITH MAKING ELLIE A HUMAN. YOU DO IT TOO WELL I CAN'T ACTUALLY FATHOM ANY OF THIS.

You wished you could read her mind. It would make your relationship with her way easier. After two years, you would think she would be better about sharing her feelings, but she mostly left you to interpret her body language.

canon relationship with tlouuniverse!ellie good god (By Korn).. something about this insecure, or in better words, inherent depiction of ellie makes me love her more. i think ellie would love to tell her girlfriend everything that runs on in her mind. i think it always sits in the base of her throat. but, she can't. there is no reason. she just can't. I LOVE YOU GRACIE.

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

more canon behaviour breuh.. literally this happened right after reader tried to get in touch with that hidden inside, that true ellie. yet, it was masked over. this alludes so well to a metaphor of possession, which.. they aren't always spiritual. i would even argue that possessions were never meant to be. i think these possessions that come from within, from a bud of despondency, or rage, are true possessions that happen often. it's disgusting to see the one you love taken by it. ergo, Good Job!!!!

You never saw her eyes change when she took a life.

i don't even need to say anything at this point. it speaks for itself.

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes.

"AND YOU KNOW TEARS ARE SPILLING FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES." I REPEAT. "AND YOU KNOW TEARS ARE SPILLING FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES." UGHHHH I'M KILLING YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. I'M ANGRY WITH INFATUATION.

Before you knew Ellie, you knew Joel. You did not understand their relationship, but you knew it was fractured. Joel never talked badly about her, only reminding everyone around him how proud he was of her. Whenever he caught you around the stables, he would ask if you were still hanging out with her. You would always blush and reply quickly, “Yes, of course”. He would smile and tell you how grateful he was to see she had a friend like you.

i love this too much.. joel proud father no matter what.. this adds such a layer to this little universe in this little fic.. i could hug that old man if he wasn't a. fictional and b. 6 feet under.

“How am I supposed to live with that?” She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough.  “You learn how to manage it.”

You stand up so you can face her. Her gaze has softened now and she almost looks like the same girl who confessed her feelings to you at the Harvest Festival two years ago. A little bit older, aged with the falling away of time, but still beautiful and vulnerable. Her green eyes sparkled differently, but your Ellie was still there somewhere.

Girl I'm killing myself in the middle of TjMaxx how do you write such beautiful things.. sabrina carpenter would arrest your Writing.. ugh

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck.  “She got away.”

the one that got away.. stop because that song actually puts tears in my eyes. i will never ever get over this scene of ellie in-game and now. in fics. man you were right about this fic HURTINGGGGGGG.

Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way.

broken ellie who is broken during sex.. most realistic depiction of sex with farm!ellie (from a fully canonical plot) that i've seen on this app. like omg it's so disgusting and heartbreaking to read.. stop this right neow..

You told her that she was beautiful every day. No matter what she was doing, or how she looked, whenever the thought entered your mind, you would say it out loud. Her response was always, “No, you.”

Alright.. you got me kickalicking my feet with this one HUEEHAUHHUEUHEA

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes.  “Babe…” You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

NO.. GO BACK.. NO.. DON'T DO THIS.. BJORK HELP ME..NO..NO!!

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.” And now she would be.

You sick and twisted bastard you're going to receive 100 kisses by post mail I hope you ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAYS and SIT WITH THIS and realize how great of a writer you are no matter how deep in the depths of listlessness or demotivation you are.. please continue writing for ellie oh y god

i bet on losing dogs

pairing: ellie williams x reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

description: a slow progression of how you lost ellie.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is in a relationship with ellie, only angst, small mentions of intimacy, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, ellie is grieving big time, ellie trauma dumps, ellie gets hurt, reader is described to be scarred and disfigured after seattle, reader is scared of ellie, dark themes in general.

author’s note: just know this was sitting in my docs for a while cause I had a hard time sticking with the grief I felt writing it. I finished it a couple weeks ago and just kept rereading it. I can't keep looking at it anymore. have it. i'm sorry in advance.

Her bed was made. 

That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space. The snow had been piled in front of the door, indicating that no one had come or left. Your boots dusted snow across her old oriental-looking rug. Her back was turned to you.

She looks so small. Her hair is greasy, tousled up in a small bun at the base of her head. She was wearing the same clothes you left her in the day before. 

“Els?”

She turns to you, not stunned, just a bit disoriented. Her eyebrows are furrowed the second her eyes meet yours.

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

The statement crushes you. You inhale deeply, trying to relieve the heaviness on your chest. 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I can’t watch you rot in this room anymore.”

She's quick with her rebuttal. “If you would have listened, you wouldn’t have to watch. Just leave me alone.”

But you physically cannot. You have spent days pacing your house, thinking about her withering away in her detached garage. You try to sleep, but you know she’s not, so how could you? 

And you had this bitterness in your mouth all the time now. After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it. 

“Ellie-“

“Please, I don’t want to talk.”

Her voice is shaky. You notice she’s picking at her cuticles again, they are red and irritated. She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood. 

It had been three days since Joel was taken from her. 

You try to hold your ground, blinking back some tears that slip when she approaches you and takes your arm. She’s guiding you to the door, grabbing the handle. When the door creaks open, you snatch your arm away. You are trying to be patient, but this was the second time she was trying to throw you out. She had done the same to Maria and Tommy the day after Joel died.

“I thought you were fuckin’ dead, Ellie.”

You promised yourself you would not burden her with your emotions. But you could not help it anymore. 

“What?”

She shuts the door, letting more cold air seep into the frigid room. She shifts onto her other heel, crossing her arms. It’s a physical way of blocking out your emotions, a gesture that is so subtle and probably absent of intention. 

“I can’t lose you, too, okay?”

Her eyes finally find yours, “You’re not gonna-”

You reach out to her, pulling her hand out of the crook of her arm. “I am here, okay? I am right here.”

She uses the leverage of you grabbing her hand to reel you into a hug. As soon as your chin rests on her shoulder, she’s dead weight in your arms. It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob. You just hold her, the anxiety of leaving her alone for the last three days now escaping you. You finally felt like you were doing something for her. 

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning. Her whole life depended on the feeling of your body around her. 

You sat with her for a whole day in silence. Not saying anything; just waiting for her to say the word. You knew what was next for Ellie.

She was going to get revenge. 

-

Your shirt was stained with blood and sweat. You told yourself the next department store you saw, you would hunt down a 20-year-old shirt to replace it. 

You were exhausted. You could hardly keep up with Ellie the last mile back to the theater. It was only the second day of trying to hunt down this crew Ellie was hell-bent on destroying. Two days in Seattle and you two have discovered a lot without having any initial leads when you arrived. 

And you did not fault her for being so aggressive, but after the things you saw today, you’re starting to wonder if this was really what she needs. Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit. 

It started when you entered an abandoned hotel. A couple of infected got taken down by your bullets, but when other non-infected people came running your way, you hesitated. You saw the looks of confusion on their faces when they saw you and Ellie. While you stood and held their gazes, Ellie raised her rifle and executed each one of them without even flinching. The shots were louder than you remember, echoing off the walls peeling of wallpaper. 

Then today, you both arrived at an old elementary school. You were caught up with holding off a couple of people in a long hallway. You yelled for Ellie to wait it out, wanting the people to charge you so you could take them out, but instead, she lit up the entire hallway. When the last person came running at her with a baseball bat, she dodged them and shoved her blade right into their necks. You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it. 

She found who she had been looking for. A girl named Nora. You were in charge of keeping watch while she got intel from her. You heard most of the conversation, but when you heard the sounds of metal clinging, you stepped away from the door. You had to resist the urge not to run in there and stop the torture, but your feet were stuck to the concrete. You did not move, you did not dare. 

She is now digging dirt and blood out of her fingernails with her blade, trying not to accidentally knick herself. Her auburn fringe covers her forehead, greasy from sweat. She is still covered in blood, but you two have not said much since you arrived back. 

She went too far and she knows it scared you. But frankly, she did not care. This was necessary. 

“Els?” You snap her out of her trance-like daze. She has not said anything in about an hour. Your voice is soft and so is your touch on her shoulder. You want to try to pick her brain, something you have been unsuccessful at doing the last couple of weeks.

She winces. 

“Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse. 

“Can you please let me check on you? Just take off your coat.”

Your hand is still on her shoulder. She does not respond or move, so you take it as she’s submitting to your request. You grab the collar of her rain jacket and slowly start to drag it down her shoulder. She’s still not saying anything. 

You wished you could read her mind. It would make your relationship with her way easier. After two years, you would think she would be better about sharing her feelings, but she mostly left you to interpret her body language. You got good at reading it for a while. But then Joel died. And now she is a silent and bitter ball of rage. Anything you thought you knew about her has fallen to the wayside. 

You slowly take off her layers of clothing, being sure to avoid touching the wounds that have made her skin their new home. 

The one on her shoulder was pretty bad, you think to yourself, she better let me stitch her up. 

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

“Okay,” You whisper, grabbing a medical kit nearby. You made sure to pack it back in Jackson and it came in handy more than once already.

“Do you even want to know what happened earlier?”

Your heart sinks. You do not want to know what happened. You knew she got what she needed from the girl, but you truly did not know if you wanted to hear the details. The idea that Ellie did more than just beat her makes you physically sick. If she could do that to a stranger, what was she going to do when she got her hands on her? You were not innocent in the chase. But your heart always skipped when you had to pull your trigger at another human being. It was not easy to watch life leave someone’s eyes. But for Ellie it was different. She acted like they were just things. Inanimate objects that needed to be pushed out of the way. You never saw her eyes change when she took a life. 

You grab the needle from the med kit and a nearby lighter before settling on the couch beside Ellie. Her shoulder blade is covered by all the blood creating new dark maroon freckles. 

You tilt her shoulder back to better look at it before finally responding. 

“Didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

You know that’s not the answer she wanted. Her shoulders fall forward and she places her face in her hands. She lets out a long sigh, disregarding you as you try to patch her up. She quickly turns around to look at you. 

Her eyes are dark, her lips pursed. 

“I got her to talk. She paid with her life.”

You want to see your Ellie, but whoever sits before you is a stranger. 

You did not want to think about Ellie killing a girl by violently beating her. It seemed so personal and evil. You decide there’s no answer worth saying to her confession, so you just turn her back around and begin your slow, tedious stitching.

Once you finish off the last suture, you stand and bring over a bowl filled with rainwater the night before. You were going to use it for drinking, but you decide it’s better to use it to clean around Ellie’s battered body.

You grab a rag from your pack and dip it in the chilled water. You ring it out and bring it to your stitch work. She is shaking now, but you are so scared to hold her in your arms. 

“The night before Joel… we got into that big fight. I was so fuckin’ mad at him. I went to his house to confront him again.”

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes. “Ellie-“

“I told him I was going to try to forgive him for all the shit he did. I should’ve…” 

You drop the red-stained cloth into the bowl and pull her back into your chest. She’s sobbing, her entire body shaking as you finally accept her into your space. 

Before you knew Ellie, you knew Joel. You did not understand their relationship, but you knew it was fractured. Joel never talked badly about her, only reminding everyone around him how proud he was of her. Whenever he caught you around the stables, he would ask if you were still hanging out with her. You would always blush and reply quickly, “Yes, of course”. He would smile and tell you how grateful he was to see she had a friend like you. 

You loved Ellie. You loved her with every fiber of your being. She helped you through a lot of your grief when you arrived in Jackson. She held you through countless nights when you cried about losing your dad. You never thought you would have to do the same for her. Everyone, including you, thought Joel Miller was indestructible. 

“Ellie, how were you supposed to know?” You ask softly before gently pressing a kiss in the middle of her back. You had never kissed her there before.

“How am I supposed to live with that?”

She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough. 

“You learn how to manage it.”

It was the only way you pulled through. Grief is love expressing itself through other means. When you lost your dad, it was not violent. He was sick and his body was so beaten down, he had no chance of surviving the disease taking over his body. Your grief was managed by reminding yourself that you had to keep living for him because if not, you would be disappointing him. You did not know if heaven was real, but you did believe in energy, and you felt him sometimes especially when you needed him the most. 

Ellie’s grief was different. It was forceful and unyielding. She could not let the hatred go and you did not particularly blame her. She watched Joel get beaten so badly that his face was almost unrecognizable. She had to watch a random woman take him away from her, forever. You could not compare your grief, but you did know that with time, she would know how to better manage it. She just could not get over the contempt for others who wronged her. It was embedded within her to seek out retribution. 

She cried a bit, letting out a long sigh. “The only way I see it is if I give those people an ounce of violence they showed Joel in his final moments, I will be at peace.”

You knew the truth. There was no peace in situations like this. But were you going to tell Ellie that? No, you were not. You traveled hundreds of miles for her to do what she felt was necessary. And while you did not agree with all of her actions, you had been complacent. You were no better than any other person with a violent and impulsive lover. You enabled this journey to come to fruition, so you had to take accountability. 

You stand up so you can face her. Her gaze has softened now and she almost looks like the same girl who confessed her feelings to you at the Harvest Festival two years ago. A little bit older, aged with the falling away of time, but still beautiful and vulnerable. Her green eyes sparkled differently, but your Ellie was still there somewhere. 

“Okay, baby.” That is all you could say. “We will finish it.”

-

When you come back to consciousness, your vision is fuzzy. You are completely disoriented, but you know you are face down on the concrete. You start to feel around for something familiar, not sure if your gun or knife is nearby. You felt defenseless.

“Ellie?” You croak out. As soon as you talk, you can feel blood dribbling down your throat. You hear stirring beside you and your blood runs cold. Is that her?

You lift your hand to rub whatever is in your eyes out. Dirt? Mud? When you look at your hands, you get confirmation that it’s blood. You’re covered in it. 

The movement gets closer and you look to your right and see Ellie’s battered body slowly stumbling towards you. Panic rises within you, unsure if she was mortally wounded or not. She collapses beside you, sitting up partially. She reaches for your hand and you realize that you can hardly move your foot to try to push yourself upwards. Everything hurt. 

“Baby, I’m here.” She finally says. Your worry subsides for a moment as you try to sit up. 

“Are you hurt?” You cry out as you press yourself upwards, the pain in your foot shooting up your leg. It’s almost the worst pain you’ve ever been in. You can hardly breathe once contort yourself to settle next to Ellie’s practically limp body. 

“Yeah, but I can walk.”

You finally remember why you’re in this room. You try to scan the room, but the dimmed lighting and blood in your eyes isn’t helping. “Is Abby dead?” 

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck. 

“She got away.”

-

Every day after Abby got away was completely different. When you arrive at the farmhouse on the hill, you hope to see your old Ellie again, and sometimes you do. 

When the golden light trickled between the leaves in the forest and you two bask in the rays as you forage for berries, you tell a stupid joke and her laugh is guttural. She belly laughs and tells you that you’re so “dumb” before she wraps her arms around your waist and presses a kiss into your temple. 

But then there was nighttime. When she finally fell asleep and you would stay up with a candle burning to read, she was ravaged by nightmares. She usually couldn’t escape them, so you would throw your book on the side table and hold her tightly so she could come back to reality. 

The day would break and she would bring you up some breakfast in bed. She was terrible at cooking, but no one can really mess up scrambled eggs. She would serve them to you with a big goofy grin and long kisses. 

Intimacy was few and far between, but you knew not to press it too much. Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way. 

You told her that she was beautiful every day. No matter what she was doing, or how she looked, whenever the thought entered your mind, you would say it out loud. Her response was always, “No, you.”

After a year of domesticity, you woke up one night to the sound of rustling downstairs and an empty bed. When Ellie did have a bad nightmare, she would occasionally go downstairs and sit on the front porch. But it was a chilly night and you knew better. 

The day before Tommy made an unexpected visit and made an already awkward interaction absolutely deplorable. He had to bring up her and blame Ellie for the outcome of the Seattle event. The entire situation led to you forcing him off the property and telling him to never come back with that bullshit. 

It was a subject you and Ellie never discussed after leaving those city limits. She told you she was done, that it was all over. You would never fight her on it, especially because you knew it was really over. There was no way you would be going after someone who almost killed you and disfigured you. Every time you looked in a mirror, you were forced to see the scars that littered your cheeks and forehead. A sick reminder of the bitter fight between you two. 

You slowly walk downstairs, seeing Ellie’s figure in the kitchen. She has her backpack on the floor, loading a gun into the side pocket. 

“What are you doing?” You ask bluntly. She turns around and you take note of her outfit. A couple of layers. A large brown jacket, jeans, and her Converse. She was going somewhere.

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes. 

“Babe…”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

You creep up to her slowly, your bare feet creaking across the hardwood. 

She’s a foot away when she finally puts her hands out to stop you from coming closer. 

“I… I think Tommy is right.”

If it was possible for someone to rip out your heart without opening up your chest, it was happening to you right now. This would be the worst pain. 

“Right about what?” You manage as a whisper. 

She takes in a long breath, “About Abby. About going after her.”

“No… Ellie, he’s not right.” 

You try to move closer, but she takes a step back. She’s treating you like you are infected. But even that would not matter, she’s Ellie. 

It makes you feel every negative emotion when she says the words, “I need to finish this. I told you… I told you I wouldn’t be at peace until I-”

“So why did we even come back, Ellie? How is this fucking fair to me?”

“You wanted to. We… we were fucked up. We didn’t have a chance.”

“And you think you do now?!”

She shakes her head, almost appalled by your statement. “I wasn’t broken like you were.”

You close your lids tightly, unsure how you could even look her in the eyes. Your fingernails are digging into your palms. You had this feeling for a while. An unsettled force that would occasionally bloom in the pit of your stomach when you watched Ellie. You would remind yourself that it’s over. The plot for revenge was buried deep in the ground. 

So when she stands in front of you, ready to take off, you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Ellie, if you go, I will never forgive you. I will not wait for you.”

She’s silent, contemplating even for a moment. She has this look of determination. She has already made up her mind. “That’s your choice.”

She starts to pick up the bag, but you make one more silent plea before watching your life walk out the back door. You grab her hand quickly, stopping her from taking any steps. 

“I thought you fuckin’ loved me, Ellie. I thought you said we were done.” You sob out,  “You think Joel would want this for you? Do you really think he would want you to walk out that door?”

Deep down, you know that Joel would have gone to the ends of the earth for Ellie, especially if the roles were reversed. But he would also want her to have a life after him. And you were more sure of that than the latter.

She pulls her wrist away from your grasp. A look of pure betrayal playing across her features. You had not spoken his name in months. It sounds like a curse word to her coming from you. “You don’t know what he would want.”

“And you do?” 

“He would have done the same for me.”

And she leaves. You think back to the first words she said to you when you entered her room over a year ago. 

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

And now she would be.

-

[rosiesriiveters]

Rosie at the flak house is like... he's compartmentalising... he's holding it together, but he's scared that if he stops, actually stops, he won't be able to get in the saddle again. That if he actually thinks about Munster, then he won't be able to stop thinking about it.

It's Rosie keeping to himself almost the entire time he's there, watching from afar - watching his men laugh together and cry alone - but just that, watching, and never with them. It's Rosie not sleeping, it's Rosie and this underlying sense of dread of how the hell he's going to get back in the plane.

Then - it's Rosie's conversation with the doctor. Rosie's the drummer, and yes, he has to keep his own beat, but he has to keep everyone else's beat too. If Rosie's rhythm is disrupted, then his crew's rhythm is disrupted. And it's only then, that pushes Rosie to pull up a chair and sit with and comfort his crew at the flak house.

[gwensy]

deadbeat daughter gwen stacy is this anything

[longagoitwastuesday]

ngl it sort of pisses me off the way adults regard Gojo in Jujutsu Kaisen at times. Which could be a very interesting and poignant point in a good way if well written, but as it is it becomes mainly just frustrating and sad in a negative way.

Nanami saying Gojo never cared about anything or anyone other than himself crashes interestingly with Kusakabe saying the whole situation was just all his fault because he refused to kill Itadori. The students are very aware of those aspects of Gojo's personality, but overall they seem to regard him with way more kindness and fondness even when at their rudest, not truly coinciding with either Nanami's or Kusakabe's views.

[bitegore]

So seriously: if you have a serious recoil/disgust factor at uncommonly eaten parts of an animal being in any kind of food context (eg: whole fish being served at a table) and you want to work on minimizing that reaction, I really really recommend eating "normal" versions of those unusual foods, like for example deli-sliced tongue. I know I'm talking out of my ass here, but things like liver and haggis (organ meat), tongue (tongue), and probably a whole lot of others I've never had can be pretty easily made into forms that taste real good and don't look much like a weird lump of flesh you can recognize, and being able to get from "that's weird and gross but I want to get it" to "that's weird but it tastes really good and I want to get it" will probably make building up momentum easier when you move on to less "common" pastures.

Good luck, by the way. I believe in you.

[seventh-district]

Well, I grew up wishin' I could close off the way my dad did 'Cause that man never felt a damn thing he didn't wanna feel But I've burned too many miles tryna ride out all the sadness But you can't outdrive pain, someday it's gonna take the wheel Can't be alone but don't wanna get close to anybody Don't wanna bare teeth but don't wanna look weak, it's a tough spot But I'm afraid you'll walk away when the tears start runnin' But I hope not 'Cause cowboys cry too

thinking about Sam...