#i need that right fucking now and im Not Kidding

[machveil]

HEY IM BACK TO BOTHER UU

OK IMAGINE THIS

simon seeing how you always coo at babies you see in public (grocery store, shopping, park, etc) and he decides then and there that you WILL be the mother of his children. and like maybe he never even wanted kids but after this happens one or two times he is SET on it.

idk just a thought that i had to share!

I am listening so hard

Simon gets hit with baby fever hard, he doesn’t even know what baby fever is - he just sees you with chunky little babies and snotty kids and something in his brain goes off. he just gets the itch to make you a mom, the urge to buy those stupid little baby shoes that look so fucking cute and why don’t you have a baby now—

Simon isn’t subtle either, he’ll silently guide your shopping trips so you end up in baby aisles, little onesies and pacifiers on display. you don’t even have a kid, but Simon picks up a cute little ducky pacifier and sets it in the cart. “Simon? We don’t need tha—”, turning his back to you, he just sets off out of the aisle, “Might.”, he mumbles

Simon who empties your guest your room one day, paint buckets in hand. he claims to just be ‘redoing’ the room, also lovie, if a box for a crib gets delivered call for him - Simon will sign for it! he’s like a man possessed, just mutters something about, “Could ‘ave a permanent guest…”, and it leaves you chuckling. he’s even got the 141 over to help, Gaz helping Simon paint while John squared try to assemble the crib

Simon who acts shocked when you tell him you’re pregnant, pretends to be innocent, “Really? How could tha’ ‘ave happened?”. he’s extremely excited even though he’s keeping a straight face, but you can tell - his fingers are tapping against his thighs and he’s bouncing his leg a little. and what a coincidence, Simon somehow predicted you’d need a nursery! good thing he converted that guest room, right doll?

[atrwriting]

epilogue – a jackson j. maybank story

hi everyone

****major obx season four spoilers ahead****do not even thinkkkk of pushing past this line if you have not seen the latest season

ok now that only season four viewers are here -- holy smokes. i will never recover. wtf. literally wtf. i had to write this because i needed closure. im hurting all over and i dont even know what to say. here is how i deal with the death of this very sweet boy who deserved so much fucking better

summary: jj meets his mother in the afterlife.

warnings: mentions of death, depression, loss of hope, anxiety, the afterlife

here's epilogue:

He didn’t realize it was supposed to feel like this. 

This… whatever this is. 

Fucking shit, he thought. He didn’t even know where he was.

The last thing he remembers is Kie.

There was an ache in his chest. 

A real ache. One he hasn’t felt since he was a kid. The type of ache that he felt when his – old? first? fake? – dad would kick him around. Busted lip and cheek, whatever he felt like should be on the menu that day. He realized then that he wished he would’ve been with Luke rather than Groff in his last few moments, because at least he could walk off whatever Luke had in store for him that day.

Groff, he scoffed in his head. 

The ache of missing Kie and his friends was beginning to mingle with his anger for Groff, his real dad.

It curdled in his chest – mixing with bile, blood, regret, guilt, shame, and anything else in his chest that would never get the chance to leave nor heal. It was grotesque and poisonous – spreading like sickness throughout his body – the only that reminded him that he was sentient.

Right, the present – where the fuck is he?

He whipped his head from side to side, like a scared animal in the forest. He had his legs spread shoulder width apart, defensive stance, and he had his elbows bent in front of him – he wouldn’t be bested twice, no – not after Groff, not after he already lost everything. 

This was different than when he was destroying the storefronts of that one street – he thought he had nothing to lose then, but he was wrong. So fucking wrong. He had never been so wrong before, and his friends had never been so right.

It was then that JJ Maybank realized that if he had just listened to Kie or any of his friends a little bit more… Maybe… Just maybe…

There was no “maybe.” Groff’s blade was the killing blow, but his recklessness had been the beginning of his own end. 

The end of his relationship.

The end of his friendships.

The end of any possibility of saving his business or home. 

The end of being a Godfather. 

The end of his own happiness. 

The end of any fucking chance he had in a world that never stopped to remind him that he was fucked from the beginning. 

All of that – and for what? For fucking what?

He died the exact way everyone said he would – because of his own stupidity.

That’s all folks, he thought. That’s the show. Most predictable fucking ending on this planet.

He felt the hot brew of emotion well from his chest rise into his throat, burning his esophagus like acid. It choked him. It beat his pain into his skin, blood, bones, organs, and psyche until it was the only thing he felt and knew. 

He didn’t have any fight left in him. He usually flipped off any fucker that would dare demand authority – but he was done. He had lost everything besides the pain that plagued him in life – and he thought that was the worst punishment of all. 

“…Jackson?” 

He looked up then. 

He realized he was surrounded by – well, he didn’t know. He just knew it was bright. Really fucking bright. He could hear wind somewhere – maybe flowing through trees, maybe making small boats sway in the waves, or maybe in the grass in the marshes. He really didn’t know – he couldn’t place anything. The sounds were familiar – he knew those sounds. His eyes were adjusting, blurred by tearsandpainandregretandshame and everything and anything in between. He knew those sounds – but not that voice.

However… he felt like he should.

“Mom?” he gushed, voice breaking. “L-Larissa?” 

“Hi, sweetheart,” a voice whispered. 

Her voice so sweet, like a flower petal. Soothing like getting out of a sticky situation that Pope yelled at him about prior. Warm like a beach day. It felt like everything he had been searching for and everything he couldn’t find all at once.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know –

Tears. That’s what he could do. That was all he could do. 

“No, sweetheart –” warm hands were beginning to cup his cheeks, soft thumbs pushing away tears like they didn’t belong on his face. His cheeks were stinging hot with every emotion that welled within his chest, but the hands were a type of warmth that made him realize he was actually cold. So cold. Cold, lonely, and full of grief. 

He realized then what all of those asshole adults were talking about all of his life.

His anger was a mask. Something he hid behind, something he used as an excuse to be reckless and a nuisance. What he really felt… what his real identity was… was grief.

JJ Mayback was full of grief. 

He crumbled then – falling forward and wrapping his limbs around the woman – his mother – before him. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, tears flowing down his cheeks and onto her sweet-smelling silk shirt. “I’m so fucking sorry –"

“Shhh, sweetheart,” she cooed. “Everything is okay now. I’m here.”

Sobs racked throughout his chest, attacking the inside of his throat. His voice grew hoarse, unable to keep up with every emotion that exploded out of him. He had pushed it down for so long. So, so long. He didn’t even know It existed, much less that he could feel it for himself. He thought when people described this feeling they were lying or being fucking dramatic. They had to be lying. How could they be telling the truth about this? How could they live with this How could they fucking get through this without fucking killing someone or themselves?! Only kooks had the luxury of crying about their feelings or missing people who weren’t there anymore or expecting assholes to change when they had always proved they would never change. It hit him all at once. Over, and over, and over, and overandoverandoverandover. It hit him worse than anything Luke could’ve thrown at him, or any knife that Groff could’ve plunged into his stomach. Every tear… every fuckingtear…

He wanted to say either of his dads, fucking any of them – they didn’t deserve his tears. That’s what he would tell anyone that asked, and that’s what he would tell someone if this was happening to them.

But right now? Right fucking now? When he had lost everything? For real, no way of getting it back? No final card up his sleeve? No Pope to save him, or Kie to talk some sense to him? 

Right now… all he could do was sob. Fucking sob. 

“It hurts,” JJ cried. “It fucking hurts so bad.”

“I know, baby,” the woman wept. “I know. I’m so, so sorry…”

“I fucking hate him,” he spat into her shoulder. “I fucking hate them both…”

“I know…” she continued to weep, obviously overtaken with her son’s hurt. 

He didn’t know what to do with this. By all accounts, he was a fuck up. Parents, teachers, and, frankly, no adults liked him. If he wasn’t consumed by grief, he would’ve pushed her away – as this feeling was foreign to him. However, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t – her grip around him was too tight and her embrace felt too warm.

“I can’t give you what you lost…” she spoke, wiping his tears as she pulled away to face him. “They will be here one day – your friends, and that sweet girl that I would love to meet – but hopefully not for a long time. I hope you can agree with me on that, sweetheart. Until then – there are so many people that want to meet you.” 

He laughed then – almost akin to a scoff. “Bunch of people I don’t know? Bunch of people that would probably look down on me?”

“No, son –” she insisted. “Don’t speak like that ever. Not about yourself – not about the thing I am most proud of for creating. Do you understand?”

For whatever reason – he nodded then, but he unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t believe her – but how could he? Who had ever wanted to meet him? He would’ve scoffed at her, told her to fuck off like the rest of the people in his life – but he didn’t have the energy. Plus, something was different about her. Her face. Her voice. The look in her eyes when she was actually insulted when he had spoke down about himself. He couldn’t help but stare at her then, wondering why she felt differently about him compared to the rest of the people in his life who were supposed to protect him, love him, care for him – but didn’t. Would she be different? Could he trust her? 

He stare at the rest of her face then. Soft, fair skin. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Skin that never had time to wrinkle. Hair that never had time to gray. Bones that never had time to get old. However, the one thing she couldn’t shake, and bothered JJ immediately… was the look in her eye. Pain. Hurt. Grief. Shame. Guilt. All mingling into one. All twisting and turning like the snakes in the garden that hurt them both. JJ knew that look. It was the same look he saw in the mirror, and the same feeling he felt in his chest.

He knew what type of person she was then. 

Her life was taken from her… just like his was taken from him. 

“I understand,” he spoke, voice breaking. 

“I know you do,” she spoke, and the allusion was not lost on him. It didn’t have to be specified – JJ was not quick in life, as he could rely on Pope for that, but in death and purgatory or heaven or hell or wherever the fuck they were – he guessed he was. “Take us for a boat ride, son – and we’ll go home.” 

He would never go home – at least not to the one that actually felt like home, the one he yearned for. He didn’t even know what his mother meant – much less wherever the fuck it was. 

“I know you have doubts – and that it’s hard for you to trust –” she began, voice breaking as she fit her fingers in between his. “–but I’ve been hurt, too – by the same people that hurt you. Can you trust me? Just once?”

After all he had been through – he didn’t know how he had the strength to even lift his gaze to reach hers. Her eyes were glassy and red, almost raw. He didn’t like the look of it. He found himself wanting to wipe it way with a towel – anything to get it to go away. The same raw look in his eyes was the same raw ache in his chest, and he knew that she had felt the same way. They were mother and son, bound by the same curses and people that trapped them in death. The hurt those people inflicted – it opened and hurt – festering like an infected wound – demanding to be felt, and demanding to spread, demanding to infect everything in its fucking path and leave no survivors. There was no fight left in him, nor his mother. He didn’t have the energy to keep up his walls. His defenses. The things that kept him alive for so long in a world that wanted to crush him. He needed safety. He needed salvation. He needed a place to rest his head because for once in his fucking life he could admit that he wasn’t strong enough to even turn his nose up at the thing that only wanted to kick him down and keep him there. He needed… he needed… he needed –

“Just this once,” he spoke, squeezing her fingers back.

She led the way, and JJ Maybank embarked on his last ever adventure: getting to know the woman that had waited his whole life to meet and love him. 

And he couldn’t wait to tell his friends when he saw them next. 

---

love you guys lmk what you think xoxox

[astronomical-bagel]

you ever see a video of a cat playing in the sunshine on some warm concrete and get so jealous that you start crying?

[bacchuschucklefuck]

this has been a roller coaster of a design journey but finally I can present you: class swap artificer!adaine and rogue!fabian

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

saw @chez-cinnamon's absolutely BANGER butterfly!Howdy design and couldn't resist! two fluffy flutterbyes <3 solidarity

[batcavescolony]

I was talking to an idiot and I need validation.

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[birdricks]

ok heres this. how i interpreted his fears at least

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Cyanobacteria my beloved 🖤

[ef-1]

girlhood

[musubiki]

once again thinking about limes very quick descent into madness surrounding the time when he realizes he might like mochi after the first night he spends cuddling with her. always love the slow start of "Okay she's kinda cute I guess. She has cute tendencies sometimes. There, you happy? I admitted it. Now leave me alone." which in the span of about 3 days RAPIDLY spills into being unable to think about anything else to the point he can barely hold a conversation with anyone because his mind keeps daydreaming back to holding her in his arms. All day feeling like "I can still feel her warmth on me..." and has to keep being snapped back to reality by everyone around him

he can barely even talk to mochi because he keeps thinking about it. has no idea what to say to her the next day. is very quiet. and mochi thinks hes mad/uncomfortable with her now, since hes always so standoffish to girls at school she thinks she might be in that category now. so the next night while lime is about to go to bed, STILL THINKING ABOUT IT, and he gets a text from her that reads something like: [Hey lime!! about last night- sorry i fell asleep on you!! i know your not super comfortable with that stuff!! it wont happen again!! 🙇‍♀️ see you tomorrow!] and he feels his heart drop to his fucking stomach. lays there reading it back over and over with his thoughts a mix of "Yeah I guess that makes sense, it happened by accident. It was never gonna be a repetitive thing." vs "Won't happen again...? Like....ever? Are you fucking kidding me? I never get that ever again?"

eventually after an hour of tossing and turning, thinks up some bullshit excuse to sneak over to her house and climb up over her little bedroom balcony, knocks on her window and says something like "Hey uhhh you forgot one of your socks over at my place so I brought it back." or something that is absolutely stupid and could've definitely waited for the next day. manages to weasel his way into crawling into her bed with her because every bone in his body is telling him to.

huheuheu love to see lime aching for her eheheh

[orcelito]

Actually, on the topic of the baby fever. God it's so frustrating. Bc when I was like 14 ish I was Adamant that I never ever wanted kids. And my dad said smth around the lines of "that'll likely change" (probably from his own experience with this) and I was like NO. it WONT.

And then eventually, age 21-22 ish, I admitted that Okay, I still don't want to have my own kids, but someday maybe I'll adopt...

And Now, 27 years old, I got the general baby fever on occasion. It Did fucking change. And I don't know if I actually WILL bother with having my own kid (I still don't want to go through the hassle and massive body changes). But god. I do see a fucking baby and feel that stab of longing. It's almost like my damned hormones betrayed me or smth. Maddening!

I shall simply write fanfic about it.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[hauntedhowling]

Uh. Hi. I'm a schizophrenic autistic trans man, my husband is a physically disabled trans man. We are gonna be homeless this month. Please consider commissioning me or donating to my cashapp or paypal

My cashapp is $vwolfe my PayPal is vwolfe23

[ocpdzim]

what you’ve got to understand about working conditions in education (and also other care-oriented careers) is that if they’re shit, two things are true at once:

that does not ever excuse being cruel to a kid, no matter what

until those conditions are fixed, education will continue to suck absolute shit

this is because when working conditions for teachers are really bad, many of the good teachers who recognize when they are reaching a point where they can no longer be the sort of teacher the kids deserve due to burnout WILL quit. they will do the responsible thing and go away for their own sake and the sake of the kids. and you end up stuck w a combination of new teachers who are trying their best but won’t last long, burnt out teachers who are trying their best but have nothing left to give and therefore aren’t very effective at actually teaching, and cockroach shitheads who take out their misery on the kids.

we have all had terrible experiences with bad teachers, many of them flat out traumatic, but for fuck’s sake please try to look at the systemic underpinnings of the problem for one minute. spitefully declaring that teachers don’t deserve good working conditions or even the right to complain about bad working conditions because ms. whoever in 5th grade was a bitch is only going to create more of her. if you want good teachers then we need an education system they can survive in

[thyandrawrites]

I gotta say, as much as I normally sympathize more with Reo, reading chapter 13 of epinagi and rereading the main manga at the same time makes me feel for Nagi, too.

Seeing just how often Nagi's thoughts go to Reo, his reasons for snapping at him after the 3v3 makes so much more sense. In Nagi's narration, it's obvious that he holds a lot of respect to Reo as a player, other than a friend. Every time he faces a challenging opponent or sees a great play, his mind always goes to him. When he's not wishing to show Reo all these amazing things, he's reminding himself and others that they must keep challenging strong opponents to justify having left Reo behind. One way or another, their promise is always very present in his mind, and he's giving it his all to make it come true.

But then they run into each other in the baths and Reo is acting suddenly cold. He doesn't want to hear about Nagi's efforts, and he calls him a rival. It would be so easy to take offense to that, to assume—like Reo did—that the other has forgotten about their promise. But it's not here that Nagi's temper snaps. Instead, he takes it in stride, and actually looks kind of fired up for the chance of facing a Reo who will go all out. After all, Nagi understand wanting to take on strong guys, and through this and other subtle details, it's shown that in his mind Reo is still very much one of them. I'd say that he perceives Reo as an equal, if not strictly a teammate at present. This is especially clear when Nagi's first impulse is to still pick him as his first choice when they win. We've established that Nagi doesn't let sentimentality get in the way of having the best shot at achieving his dream (think of the pep talk he gives to Bachira about leaving him behind if he doesn't step up even if he and Isagi are close). So, all of this to say: Nagi speaks with his actions, and he chooses Reo for Reo's skills, not for his attachment to him as a friend. He respects him.

But he respects their dream more, in the end. Just like how he left with Isagi not by any fault of Reo's own, but to examine his own drive for football, Nagi once again makes the choice that would best result in bettering his plays. Not because he doesn't care, but because he's that serious about it, actually.

Again, Reo doesn't make the cut not because he lacks skills, but because his playstyle isn't compatible with the way Nagi's team is evolving. Reo would bring them balance because he's skilled and charismatic enough to singlehandedly whip up their mismatched chaos into a proper team. But being a team would make them worse players individually, and Nagi has enough maturity to know that's a step back for his own skills, not one forward. Not a single moment has passed by so far where he hasn't been putting his all towards fulfilling his end of the promise, or one where he hasn't had full faith in Reo in turn.

And then Reo, who has acted cold and standoffish all this time for seemingly no reason... Reo, who is so skilled but wants to be picked even if it means losing and possibly flunking out of the program, their best chance to get closer to the world cup... The same guy who swore they'd be best in the world, but whose efforts only stopped at winning in the first selection...

that Reo goes and accuses him of not giving a shit about their promise to each other.

I think I would've snapped back too