#like my dude i am having the time of my life not

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 16: The One About That Time I Shot an Arrow into the Air

“…It fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight.”

Archery has always been one of my fortes in life. I have absolutely no idea why, but I’m strangely quite good at it. My father, of course, attributes it to my ancestors; something passed down to me in my genes. So, I’m not sure that any arrow I shot into the air wouldn’t naturally find itself in the direction of its intended target. Today, that target would almost certainly be in the jugular of a Cerberus-like creature. Ah, yes, that mythical hellhound with three heads that guards the entrance to the Underworld. Not only does it dictate who can enter the realm of Hades, but also who can leave. And I’m not fond of creatures that would rather devour you alive than let you leave of your own freewill. Plus, could you imagine having three heads with three different personalities? Ugh, that would get confusing quickly. And, even worse, could you imagine all the in-fighting? I mean, an arrow to the throat – if it didn’t dismantle the beast – would almost certainly silence it. Luckily, we don’t have any three-headed dogs in this fandom…

Where am I going with this? Well – besides down a long and winding path that draws attention to the fact I enjoy poetry and archery – actually, I chose today’s poem for a specific purpose. If you haven’t figured it out from my previous cracks about the Kraken, I also like Greek mythology. In fact, learning about Greek mythology at around the age of 11 – yes, that defiant age where we’re no longer interested in Barbie (not that I was ever interested in Barbie) but we’re also not cool enough to be considered teenagers – was the first time I remember finding myself “thinking outside of the box.” And by that, I mean asking the question that I probably should not have said out loud: “If Zeus is a myth, does that mean God is fake, too?” That went down like a lead balloon (and, I hope, no one takes offense to reading that now; it is not meant with any disrespect). My mother was, of course, telephoned by the school and, when I returned home, she greeted me with (something along the lines of) a simple: “Did they answer your question? No? Then I suggest you find it for yourself.”

We all have our own truth, don’t we? Even in this fandom, we are each tasked with choosing our own path. Weeding out facts from speculation and speculation from rumor. Choosing what we want to believe over what is being pushed on us. Overcoming our willingness to follow blindly versus our refusal to be backed into corner. I suppose that’s why I’ve always liked Greek mythology (and, perhaps, storytelling in general) – because it helps us navigate life’s challenges by better understanding human nature. It’s also one of the reasons why my favorite story has always been the trials and tribulations of Eros and Psyche.

Ah-ha! See, I told you I had a purpose for bringing up those damn arrows!

Yes, Eros was the Greek equivalent of the Roman Cupid; that weird little dude who fired love arrows like a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. But Eros wasn’t some creepy little cherub in a cloth diaper; he was the devastatingly handsome God of Love. And he fell in love with the equally beautiful human Psyche. That part about her being human, however,managed to get Psyche some major side-eye from Eros’s mother, Aphrodite. In retaliation for humans worshiping Psyche’s beauty over her own, Aphrodite sent Eros down to earth to pierce Psyche with one of his love arrows so she would fall madly in love with a hideous monster (unfortunately for the Cerberus, it wasn’t them). But Eros defied his mother and, unbeknownst to Aphrodite, kept Psyche for himself hidden away in a castle. There, Psyche lived – mostly happily – with Eros visiting her every night. Eros promised Psyche she could live there indefinitely so long as she never looked upon his face (hence why he only visited her in darkness). But humans have this uncanny knack for being curious and, of course, Psyche peeked. Well, fuck! Haha, I won’t ruin the rest of the story for you except to say, yes, Eros was royally peeved at Psyche’s betrayal, fled their home, and sought refuge with his bitchy mother (because, of course, he did). Devastated, Psyche went clambering up to her pseudo-mother-in-law’s shrine to beg for forgiveness and Aphrodite, being a bit of a bitchy goddess, gave Psyche a series of impossible tasks to complete to prove her worthiness. Amazingly Psyche did in fact complete each of these four tasks but only because she managed to get a little help from some fantastical friends. Well, except for that final task for which Psyche was warned – don’t look in the fucking box. Damn humans.

Like all stories passed down from generation to generation, there are multiple versions of this myth, particularly when it comes to who helped Psyche complete her four tasks. Sometimes it’s one god(dess), other times it’s multiple; sometimes it’s earth’s creatures (the ants, the plants, and the flying things). But my favorite version is the one where Eros was the one pulling those invisible strings – or, at the very least, keeping an eye on Psyche from the shadows – because no matter how angry he was with her, Eros still loved Psyche and wanted to protect her.

Why do I bring this story up? Well, for starters, if you didn’t notice (because you were too focused on carriages and mirrors), Bridgerton Season 3 made quite a few parallels between Colin and Penelope and Eros and Psyche, even referring to the latter by name at the end of the fourth episode. The show also brushed on the importance of trust, the consequences of betrayal, and the idea that love can conquer all. Funny thing is I never thought Colin to be much of an Eros; he made a better Psyche, in my opinion. I mean, he was the one to peek into Penelope’s secret life!

But Colin’s real-life counterpart, Luke, makes a rather entertaining Eros.

On December 16, when Luke reposted to his Instagram stories a link to Nicola’s “Part 1” of her 2024 Year, the fandom went wild. And I’m not talking about just the Lukolas going insane with excitement; the Jakolas were having a field day, too – but not in a good way. The unease they’d almost certainly felt with those coordinated airplane and “Polin” posts from October returned with a vengeance when Luke resurfaced in support of Nicola – the woman for whom he consistently comes out hiding. I realized then that the one person who could simultaneously make the Lukolas’ hearts flutter and the Adjacents’ blood boil was Luke (i.e., our Eros could make Psyche rejoice while making Aphrodite lash out in anger).

If you really think about it, Luke has pulled us out of the black waters of the River Styx multiple times, making him the perfect Eros to our Psyche. Yes, our Psyche. The fandom is absolutely the Psyche of this story. After all, the fandom was the one who betrayed Luke with our collective reaction to Papsmear (but, in the fandom’s defense, that was a shitty fucking day). And, of course, that wench Aphrodite is collectively all the side story bullshit, from the Adjacent narratives to rag-mags sticking their ever-growing noses into places they don't belong.

As we finish out the year, I thought it would be fun to give Luke some credit where credit is due. In other words, I thought I’d highlight four times Luke “Eros-ed” (i.e., “rescued”) us from some mucky ass shit. This is not every moment Luke came out of hiding to do something wonderful; these are simply my top four moments where I believe Luke single-handedly resuscitated the fandom. You’re welcome to share your best Luke moments in the comments.

No. 1 - That Post-Papsmear Thing That Everyone Ignored:

Fuck, yes.

I am starting with the most overlooked event in the Lukola-verse – Luke’s post-Papsmear Cressida story. This is the taproot that keeps my faith in Lukola from falling over during a storm – Luke taking one for Team Lukola by promoting Season 3 using the scene from Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening. Yeah, yeah, Luke totally missed the target with that post but – again, in the fandom’s defense – everyone was still reeling from the sudden-but-not-so-sudden materialization of Antonia at the London premiere. In hindsight, though, you know you want to give him an “atta boy” for basically throwing shade at the Lutonia narrative while using a massive social media platform to do so. It was jaw-dropping, brilliant, and ballsy as fuck.

If you’re totally lost about how entertaining this Cressida story was, go read Entry 1 to be my blog. But, seriously, how have you not read it already?

No. 2 – Delivering the Cake:

Alright, fast forward three months (yes, three goddamn months!) to September 7 when Luke posted pictures from his stay at the Puente Romano resort.

No big deal, right?

Wrong!

It was a big fucking deal because, for starters, Antonia creeped in and posted random pictures of herself at roughly the same time Luke posted his resort pictures. And, of course, Luke had to like Antonia’s Instagram post. To make matters worse (gasp!) Luke’s had palm trees in his pictures which were oh, so reminiscent (but, not really) of palm trees posted by Antonia the previous day to her Instagram stories. Oh my God! And, then the real kicker? Luke’s slide deck included him eating a picture of himself from the London premiere sans Nicola! The horror! I mean, what probably started out as a cute post by Luke turned into a full-on Lukola heart attack within 30 minutes or less!

But then Luke pulled out a defibrillator and revived the fandom. Almost immediately.

After presumably hearing the cries from the Lukola fandom that he’d cut Nicola from the London premiere image, Luke demonstrated through his Instagram stories that (a) he was eating part of a cake (he was even darling enough to put the cake emoji with a smiley face), and (b) that the cake never had Nicola’s image on it to begin with (meaning, he didn’t remove her from it). Thank you for that clarification, Luke. Seriously, the fandom appreciated it.

After they recovered from their near-death experience, the Lukolas finally took the time to look at the images Luke posted. A not-so-random chaise lounge; a random white shirt; a restaurant called El Pimpi (which is a word used for the people who delivered messages to a ship’s crew and passengers); Luke throwing up the peace sign with his now infamous digits in – what appeared to be – the reflection of a glass table; and a reference to cake. It was Lukola- and/or Polin-coded shit. And, to make it just a smidge better, there was no visible reference to Antonia anywhere.

And, yes, I will cut in here to acknowledge that Antonia would, on October 25, include a lone picture of a balcony which was identical to the one Luke posted in his – what I like to call – “clarification stories” from September 7. Do I care about Antonia’s balcony? Not in the least. Could she have been at the resort? Sure. In fact, I’ve always found the idea of Antonia being present quite comical since Luke made it fairly obvious he omitted something (ahem, someone) from his Instagram post and instead filled it with random shit that seemed Lukola- and/or Polin-coded. Plus, if you want me to be perfectly honest, “insinuation” posts from Antonia stopped doing it for me months ago.

Back to what I saying… We must give Luke a round of applause for placating an entire fandom with something as simple as a cake emoji. Bravo, bravo!

No. 3 – Shutting Down the Mean Girls:

We closed out September with Antonia riling up the fandom by posting Instagram story after Instagram story, none of which were worth a second glance from a Lukola except for the “phone screen” one (see “Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, ‘Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?’” for reference). Oh, wait, there is another story – just for my own amusement – on October 1, Antonia reshared a story where she was labeled “Aphroditi.” Rather convenient for my story today, isn't it? Any ways, the Lukolas were a bit high-strung by October 2 when Nicola announced via Instagram that she had been named as part of the Time 100. Luke liked the post – but apparently to the haters on X he didn’t do it motherfucking fast enough. These weird-ass people do actually exist – the ones that genuinely believe Instagram likes (and the speed thereof) equate to true love.

Any ways, Luke apparently decided he was having none of that bullshit and stepped in on October 3 with his Polin-themed “Mean Girls” story. It was a throwback to a conversation he and Nicola had had in, I believe, 2022 on, haha, X.

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.”

“It’s October 3rd.”

Luke captioned the story, “Xx.”

Not only did the fandom rejoice that Luke had returned to post something after nearly a month away, but the post included a throwback to Nicola, and it came on the heels of Halley Brisker’s now legendary “Nicola lately” post. Yeah, the one with Luke in the background (seriously, convince me it was someone else). Luke’s story also seemed to be one hell of a clapback to a rabid pack animal on X who faulted Luke for not leaving a comment on Nicola’s Time 100 post.

“Xx.”

No. 4 – The Littlest Things:

I debated over choosing Luke’s People magazine interview for the fourth moment, but that interview – although it made the fandom incredibly happy – didn’t pull our heads out of our own asses. So, I decided instead to go with the little things Luke has done over the past few months, namely, joining in on the Like Wars but in his own oh, so subtle way.

Let’s start with Antonia’s September 21 post of – honestly, who the hell cares? She posted and we knew Luke’s obligatory like was coming. It just took 10 ½ hours for Luke to get to it and it was only given after Nicola posted to her Instagram stories pictures from a concert she had attended. Was the fandom a bit deflated Luke liked Antonia’s post? Of course! But it was also fun to see the like come hours after Luke had already been online and on the heels of Nicola popping up online.

On October 11, we had a similar event happen. Antonia posted to her grid and Luke seemingly ignored it for roughly five hours. But, while Luke was ignoring her post, Antonia was going hard at it with Instagram stories and TikTok videos (Nicola, for her part, seemed to be playing her own game on social media during this time). Luke finally liked Antonia’s post and Antonia went silent thereafter. Then, on October 12, Luke officially made it back from his October 4 “Brb” moment and posted “Somewhere in Mayfair” to his Instagram stories. Let the fandom rejoice!

But I’m not stopping there. Let’s not forget about Luke and Nicola’s coordinated “Polin” pictures on October 21 or that, while Antonia was “rolling pasta” on November 17, Luke made it a point to go back and like Nicola’s Dr. Who post from November 15. On December 6, when Luke coughed up a like to Antonia’s grid post, he also handed a like out to Nicola at the same time (and a few others). Do you see a pattern starting to form?

Honestly, I believe Luke is owed a standing ovation for the way he has taken control of his own narrative and managed to deflect from the so-called “importance” of these bullshit Instagram likes. Although Nicola has historically attempted to distract the fandom from Antonia, in my opinion, it was always Luke’s responsibility to diminish the importance of Antonia’s role in his story. And, for the past several months, he has been doing just that – in the quietest way possible.

I’ve decided Luke is a bit like a shadow. Inconspicuous – sometimes even completely invisible – but when the light hits just right, it’s impossible to ignore his immense presence.

When Luke posts, or when he coyly plays around with the Instagram likes – even when he likes Nicola’s posts – it somehow resonates differently with the fandom. Nicola could post her year-end stuff and the fandom would be, like, “Oh, that’s cool.” But, when Luke reshares her post to his stories? “Holy fuck, that’s awesome!” It's a "different energy on set." Somewhere in the middle of all the bullshit that goes on within the fandom, Luke found his own truth. The “Bad Guy” who was “on a break” during Hot Boy Summer somehow became our hero; the shadowy figure that pulls us out of the water and sets our heads back on straight. Over and over again. It's been so subtle, we've barely even noticed.

I’m going to end this entry with the Longfellow poem I quoted at the beginning, mainly because I like it, but also because it’s about something that cannot be easily seen once released into the world but, if found, can have an everlasting effect on us.

“I shot an arrow into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight;

“I breathed a song into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where; for who has sight so keen and strong, that it can follow the flight of song?

“Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; and the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.”

P.S. In the story, Psyche is rescued by Eros (hurray!) and is made the Goddess of the Soul.

[iridiss]

Aaron’s such an underrated character on Aphblr tbh. He’s become one of my favorite characters in the cast as I rewatch more and more of Mystreet. Aaron will tease you, but he’s also one of the best characters in the cast to go to for emotional support. He’ll tell you as it is, smack you upside the head when you’re being crazy and shake you back to rational normalcy, but then he’ll sigh and tell you you’re gonna be just fine and everything’s gonna be okay. He is the number one (and on occasion only) holder of brain cells in the whole neighborhood. He’s the most sensible, and often the word of wisdom/rationale, much more so than Katelyn or Lucinda or Zane or Laurance are. This can often make him come off as a serious character, but he’s still down to clown! He just does it in a different way!

He’s supposed to contrast Aphmau’s louder, more extroverted, playful, ditzy, eccentric personality, by being quieter, more rational, more responsible, more cautious and careful, more reserved, a word of wisdom to contrast her crazier, chaotic energy and pranking and punning and ponies and general whimsical tomfoolery. But that does not, by any means, mean that he is not participating in the antics. Just because he’s the only one who thought to bring a first aid kit and a safety harness doesn’t mean he’s not jumping off that cliff with everyone else in this crazy cast. You tell him to dig, he’ll bring shovels. He may sigh or say “oh god not again” when shit goes awry or the gang decides they are Dead Set on doing something insane for the 10,000th time, but by god he will commit. Aphmau kidnaps a baby and goes on a mad chase for a comedic bit, and he never complains about how “stupid” and “reckless” and “obnoxious” his girlfriend is, he just says in a completely calm tone, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go save my girlfriend.” And he chases after her immediately lmao.

Aaron enables the antics and participates in them, and if you rile him up or challenge him damn well enough, he will throw himself into the group antics with an unbeatable, fiery fervor. If the boys decide they’re all gonna pretend to be Santa and his elves in order to cause prankster-variety chaos one day, Aaron would join in and go right alongside them. He’s here to make sure it all goes to plan. He’s here to make sure you don’t break any bones when you jump off that roof like a madman. He’s here to help you run away from the cops, help you break into the building. He may chide you for doing it in the first place (“do you even know what you’re doing?!”), and if needed he may drag you back home if you’re barking up the wrong tree and it’s nothing but detrimental to you, but if it’s viable for the bit, he absolutely will show you how to break a window correctly.

And he can be a little shit if he wants to, too!! He can snicker at you and tease you and make quips, and I bet if Aaron himself dedicated his energy to it, he would make the best of pranks. He’s not an asshole that’s full of himself and too serious and stoic and cool for being silly, he’s not a whiny bitch, he’s actually very incredibly supportive. At times, much more so than Garroth, Laurance, Zane, Katelyn, etc. He’s reliable, he trusts Aphmau a lot, he knows how shittily Aphmau cooks and still does his damndest to support her, and he will force himself to eat her biohazardous cooking just to make her happy. He is the chef of the household. He’s good with animals, animals love him. He’s a kind guy!!! He’s just got his own unique energy and vibe to him, that no one else in the cast really has, and I really appreciate that core trait of him. He’s a grounding character. He’s probably got his own ways that he’s weird and eccentric that are a lot more hidden than Aphmau’s. If we didn’t have Aaron, the entire neighborhood would have burned down ages ago, ten times over.

I genuinely do believe he’d make a fantastic dad, being a combination of a soft and gentle and tenderly loving man, and responsible enough to always bring safety helmets and bandaids and snacks, very supportive of his kids development, emotionally available as a great source of genuine advice and wisdom while still getting plenty of encouragement. He would probably want to make an effort to be a very different parent than his father was, and since he was emotionally neglected as a child, he would refuse to do anything similar to his own kids. He’d be a good influence (and Aphmau would be the bad influence LOL)

He’s kind of a teddy bear of a man <3 If he weren’t so heavily wolf-themed, I’d say a bear would be the best animal that’d fit his personality and energy. He’d protect you like a bear, he can be really fucking terrifying if he wants to, but he’d only use that power to make sure Aphmau gets what she wants and needs to make her happy. He’d never use that terrifying intimidation factor of his on his friends and loved ones, never as anything more than a single look that has a derailing Garroth/Laurance/Travis/Dante/Gene/etc. get right the fuck back on track and start backpedaling, like if they started saying or doing something careless or stupid that made Aphmau feel worse. He’s quiet and reserved with that tired, grounded, solid energy of a bear. He’s a big guy. But he can also be really soft and supportive and sweet. He takes more time to come out of his shell and let down his walls, but when he does, he really dedicates his life to the few people he manages to trust. And it’s that thick outer shell that makes Aphmau a good match for him, because she’s kinda the only character in the cast who’s able to bring him out of his shell so easily.

She’s kind and extremely friendly, unstoppably and unendingly so. She’s sweet and naive and selfless in the way that proves to Aaron that she’s not trying to get anything out of him, she’s not lying to him, and she would never neglect him or just…abandon him like a discarded toy once she’s through with him. She’s not scared of him. She sees the best in everybody, and sees that there’s something more underneath that scary, prickly outer shell of defenses that’s managed to push everyone else away and keep the likes of Laurance and Garroth and Katelyn on their toes. She sees what no one else does, she sees the true beauty and the kind heart he has underneath. Even in MCD, when he’s literally held a sword to her throat and threatened her life multiple times, she can still sense that he’s full of shit and there’s a kind heart underneath, and if she does a little cultivating, extends a hand of gentle kindness and genuine affection, a kind of love and affection he’s never really seen before and been starved of all his life… it works wonders, and he steps out to meet her. He changes, drastically, because she sees the best in him, and that makes him want to become the best version of himself that he can be, for her. Where he might hate himself and grapple with feeling unloveable, Aphmau is there to remind him none of its true. And so he tries to keep her nightmares away in return, sticking by her side, taking care of her, cooking for her, encouraging her to keep doing everything she does best, defends her against the bullies that make her feel like she’s not good enough, and takes her by the shoulders to remind her that she is good enough, and all the voices out there and in her head that tell her she’s not are full of shit. Because he knows first-hand, better than most, the good things she brings to those around her and the wonderful presence she is in others lives, and how wonderful she is as a person. He trusts her. He’s here to guide her along in her path to becoming her fullest self, to give her that last big nudge to boost her along the way. Likely on a cosmic level, mainly, with her becoming Irene.

He’s very sweet, he’s sweet to Aphmau, Aphmau’s even sweeter to him, and genuinely I’ve learned to love the big, fluffy guy and I really appreciate him and his impact on the other characters the more and more I see of him. I don’t really know how I would enjoy Mystreet or MCD or the Aphverse without him. If he were real, I would love to give him one big hug, I bet his hugs would be amazing (topped only by Garroth’s rib-crushing bear hugs)

[monstersflashlight]

I don't expect anyone to have an answer to this question, but I still figured I might as well ask.

I myself am a guy, but I can't say I see many like myself in the monster enthusiast space. This is not a critique, mind you, but looking at the readers you tend to write for especially has made me realize this community seems to be mostly women.

How come? Do you think there's anything specific about getting dicked down by a werewolf that appeals more to women than men?

I wish to clarify again that this is not any kind of complaint or issue or whatnot, simply something I've noticed and I wish to ponder with others. What do you think?

Hi there anon! It's a complicated and loaded question.

First of all: why not? Who wouldn't want a big green dude to pound them?

Second of all, there's a very complicted relationship between horror, fear and sex for lots of women, and monsters are good way to experience that catharsis without being in actual danger. But not only that, but most of times, the monsters I've known are all human, so reading and seeing "actual monsters" who are scary and big and have all the power to hurt you but choose not to... that feels nice.

Adding to all that, for me for example, the monster's allow me to feel a different way because I've been in the "others" section all my life because neurodivergent. So the otherness, and feeling like an outsider, feels very good to experience through monsters.

There's probably a lot more reasoning behind this, but this is the short answer. Hope that helped!

[kalinara]

So as someone who immensely enjoys disliking Charles Xavier, I have to admit, I was utterly delighted when the X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic (in Krakoa age, one of the rare times it did not involve Nature Girl murdering people) decided to do what is, essentially, an "It's a Wonderful Life" plot for the guy.

So if even if you've never seen the original movie that the plot comes from, you've undoubtedly seen a parody or homage, (at least if you're American). Sitcoms particularly like to use the idea, but occasionally even serious shows will do it too. A character goes through some shit, is dreadfully unhappy, and is shown what life would be like without him.

Now the thing about X-Men, is that we did see what the world would be like without Charles Xavier in the Age of Apocalypse storyline. And admittedly, it's pretty bad. Scott has long hair. Enough said.

And of course, the gist of this story is that Xavier ends up in the Age of Apocalypse world (or maybe just dreaming about it), and introduces them to the Krakoa concept and gets a big ego boost.

It is what it is. The part that amuses me is what drives Xavier to the point of needing this ego boost. And it is an AMAZING level of petty.

Since there are a lot of scans, I'm going to put them behind a cut. Enjoy! (These are all from X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic #62, by the way.)

So we start off with Xavier's daily schedule:

It's a pretty busy itinerary, admittedly. So now, let's see how Xavier's day actually goes.

We actually start off with Xavier waking up, disgruntled, at 6:00 AM. I'm not actually going to show this, because I am not a morning person either and can't make fun of him for it.

Also, he's shirtless, and not being named Max or Erik, I am not into that. Sorry.

But, let's look at the rest.

6:30's resurrection of Rusty Collins

Xavier was apparently a bit slow, and Hope decided to resurrect the dude without him. That happens. You can hardly blame a teenager for leaping at the chance at grown-up responsibility.

Also, she's a Summers. So it's pretty much inevitable.

--

So then we get the 7:45 meet and greet.

A small child adores Kitty. Kitty is a little meta here, but not wrong. After all, part of what the Marauders do, at this point, is rescue people.

Now, Xavier looks kind of neutral here, but given that this is part of the litany of disappointment, contextually, one must interpret this to mean he is disappointed.

But here's the thing, Chuck. You're not an "X-Man". You're the dude who sends them out from the shadows. You didn't even publicly admit to being a mutant for decades. And while, yes, you did have some physical issues that made being a field operative impossible, it's not like you're going out on rescue missions NOW.

Sorry, I shouldn't rant. There's more to mock.

--

So how does the 9:15 teaching session go? We don't actually know. Presumably it's not notable. Despite the fact that teaching is the one thing Xavier can claim he actually does.

Instead, we skip ahead to the 11:05 parole hearing:

I mean, you can't actually be surprised by this. I'm not even sure that Sabretooth is still IN there. But he's busy torturing people, if he is. So no, he's not getting out.

You could let the kids out though. Poor Idie.

--

This bit makes me laugh:

Got stood up by the guy whose mind you forcibly wiped. You can't be shocked by this, Chuck. That was a fucking dick move and you know it.

(Especially since you decide that Franklin isn't a mutant after all.)

--

How about the X-Corp Review?

Huh, who'd have thought that multi-millionaire business people would have the business shit handled?

I mean, to be fair to Charles, he does seem to never lack money, so he likely has business sense himself. But meh. I can't blame Warren and Monet for wanting to go off and canoodle or whatever.

--

I admit to some sympathy here, just a bit:

I've mentioned that I'm not a really a fan of the Arakko focus on Omega mutants, and how that kind of spoils my enjoyment of Storm basically being amazing up there. (I feel like it'd be more satisfying to have a non-Omega show them that sheer power isn't the only measure of awesome. I did like watching her use teamwork to kick Vulcan's ass though.)

That said, why did you not realize this would be a thing, Xavier? Arakkans make no secret of how their society works.

--

Now, sadly, we skip the legal conference about the X-Babies. Presumably it goes well and no one mocks Xavier, but I'm kind of fascinated by the idea.

But then we get the official Treehouse lighting ceremony:

...are you really feeling left out because your two former child soldiers are getting honored as "mutantkind's greatest heroes".

Fucking REALLY?

Are you living among humans and saving them from various threats? Heck, are you sticking around to help hand out meals, as the mayor mentions? Because you're not down there, and your itinerary says you'll be having a meeting about Orchis with Beast in like an hour.

It presumably goes well, because we skip ahead to sparring with Logan.

This goes pretty straightforward. They have a heart to heart, which I appreciate, because I'm still utterly boggled by that bit in X Lives of Wolverine where he claims that, despite their respective ages, Logan sees Chuck as a father figure.

By the way, Logan doesn't act like a "son" in this scene at all. He does give some legitimately good advice though and asks the question that's the point of all this:

And for FUCK'S SAKE, Xavier. The fact that this is apparently an armor piercing question, after a day where the WORST thing that happened to you was having a few appointments go on without you, getting stood up by a dude who's got every reason to dislike you, and seeing Kitty, Scott and Jean get SOME MEASURE of weak recognition.

THAT's what leads to the "It's a Wonderful Life" moment?

I mean, presumably, the interview with Trish Trilby which happens before the sparring match goes well. Meaning you're going to be on the fucking news as the face of Krakoa again. But that hardly matters because the Mayor of New York considers your SURROGATE CHILDREN to be the greatest heroes.

You couldn't even be HAPPY for them?!

(I also can't help but note that upon meeting AoA Cyclops, who assumes Xavier is an escaped clone and tries to kill him, we see no sign of the ACTUAL character's complexity or depth. He's just a random villain here. Because in the end, it's all about Xavier's ego.

He does refer to Scott as "the most pragmatic man I've ever known", which is a really interesting description that I'm not sure I agree with. But that's an analysis for another day.)

Anyway, as mentioned, the rest of the story is basically just fueling Xavier's ego. I mean, Age of Apocalypse IS a hellhole. (Though a friend of mine suggested once that possibly the only thing Age of Apocalypse proved that Xavier was necessary for is preventing Mr. Sinister from regaining control of Cyclops. I think I'd have to reread the story to see if I agree, but since I hate Xavier, I DO like that thought.) And he does bring them Krakoa and joy.

But I'm just going to bask in the fact that Xavier's deepest pain on Krakoa is that someone occasionally recognizes other people instead of him. I bet he hated Scott's Rolling Stone cover too. :-D

[superkooku]

Have you listened/watched epic? And if you have what’s your thoughts?

Personally I think it’s a good thing to show to a friend new to Greek mythology. I just finished watching the last saga and I have to say I loved it, beautiful. Sad it ended tho :(

It might not be very accurate but I love the hardwork the cast put into it and so I love it very much

My thoughts on Epic the musical

So yes, I know about Epic. I even participated in the secret santa thing and am what we may call 'a winion'.

I just finished watching the livestream too ! I especially loved seeing the cast members were reacting to the sagas (Luke Holt was so funny in this 🤣. Also, Jorge carrying Mico like a baby in 'Just a man' and Mason being extra the whole time... so many gems in that livestream)

Since Epic is finished AND I have animatics of the Ithaca saga, I'll use this opportunity to make a more in-depth review of the musical. Instead of separating it in "good" or "bad", I'm reviewing it criteria per criteria.

The cast

Like I previously said, I LOVE the cast chemistry. They're all so fun and lively. I follow some of them separately, like Janani or Troy Doherty, and they're just delightful. Especially Troy as Hermes, he always manages to make me laugh. Every single time 😂.

Also, he gives me a bit of Mettaton vibes since he's extravagant, always over the top and a bit self-absorbed (the Hermes persona, I mean, not Troy Doherty himself). Maybe that's why I like him so much :3

And of course, there's Jorge, mr. Jalapeño, the man with the plan. I love how both passionate and humble he is, how he takes the time to thank everyone and just how much of a bundle of positive energy he is. I know it's an internet persona, but what I can see from him is some hopefully really nice guy in real life too.

Anyways, awesome cast chemistry, everyone made me laugh and they're all having a good time.

The music

This music is so beautiful 🥰. All the motifs, the emotions, the instruments, the voices ! If I had to rate Epic from the music alone, it would be 5 stars. I'm not saying this in a professional angle or anything, it's my personal feeling.

Seriously, I don't really have that much to say about the music because, to me, it's just that good. I love the variety, how different instruments synch themselves and, yeah.

The characters

Annnnd that's where the blind positive praise stops, unfortunately 😂.

Don't get me wrong, it's not awful either and there are good points. My favorite Epic characters are Hermes and Athena.

The rest ? It's mixed. In order not to make this too long, I'll focus on only some of them.

The story is very character-driven so I won't really delve into it in detail.

Odysseus : he's a good protagonist, especially in the first act. His dilemma is interesting, he has a strong personality and I like that he is just a broken man and not some mighty overlord... except in the Thunder and Vengeance sagas. I feel Jorge exaggerated the monster message a bit too much, imo. Odysseus is supposed to be a witty liar, a warrior of the mind. Not someone like Achilles who solves problems by fighting or fights gods like Heracles, much less freaking Poseidon.

Poseidon : okay ! I liked him in the first act, because FINALLY Poseidon isn't a surfer dude. He's a terrifying force of nature that was angered by mortal hubris (though the hubris thing isn't explained by Epic). In Get in the water, he kept his intimidating side. Because he's, yk, the king of the oceans, one of the most powerful Olympian gods. But his defeat partially ruined him for me 😂. It just doesn't make sense. Why is Odysseus afraid of Scylla and even tip-toes around Hermes, who is friendly, when he can stabby-stab Poseidon ? Why didn't Poseidon counterattack? So many questions.

Zeus : my problem with Zeus is easier to explain. Again, he was awesome in the first act, less so in the second. What I loved initially is how regal he was. Powerful, intimidating, kingly, but not evil either. He warns Odysseus of the gods' will and of fate, which always realizes itself in mythology. In Thunder Bringer, he's fine. His lustful and flighty side is shown, but we could interpret his intervention as avenging Helios and punishing the ones who ate the cows, instead of "Zeus is evil". But in God Games ? He's so pettyyyyy and childish. Where is the kingly attitude ? This "Beast Zeus" should come against Kronos or Typhon, or maybe when Athena and the others threatened his position. Not after a freaking game ! He just strikes Athena with thunder because she won fair and square. At LEAST Luke Holt absolutely killed it, so it's cool to listen to.

Penelope : she's underdeveloped :( . Okay, her bond with Odysseus was respected, they're adorable together. On her own ? Eh, she's fine. Which is a shame because she simply didn't have enough room to exist outside of Odysseus. Also, the fact that she doesn't interact once with her son is criminal imo.

I do have some other issues with characters like Circe and Calypso (basically they're declawed compared to the Odyssey), whereas I'm completely fine with others like Eurylochus, Telemachus or every god except Zeus and Poseidon. Though they're not perfectly accurate either but I don't have problems with them.

The crew in general is also underdeveloped, so I didn't feel much for them (until discovering the scrapped Elpenor and Perimedes songs/lh). They played their roles correctly.

I hated the suitors (that's a positive in Epic) and laughed when Antinous died. Though I wished they were more pathetic and less threatening. Musically it'd be worse but story-wise more fitting.

The story

Overall, it's fine. Most of the best points come from the Odyssey itself, the one change I liked the most was having Odysseus and Poseidon meet (not the way it ended though).

Also, story-wise, I prefer act 1 over act 2, because it's less over the place and more grounded.

But emotion-wise and music-wise, forgetting about the Odyssey, act 2 wins the cake.

Those were my thoughts on Epic :3

I tried not to judge it too much according to the Odyssey and some of my friends are more demanding on that plan (for perfectly legitimate reasons btw). But it's hard to separate Epic from the wonderful work of Homer and it's lacking in some areas.

Still, this journey was very fun, I love all the passion Jorge, the singers and the animatic artists put in, there are a lot of good things about it (I can't mention everything). I don't want to rate it because it's too rigid of a system. I listen to the songs on loop and, ultimately, I'm thankful Epic exists :)

I may come back to this post and reblog stuff if I have new relevant thoughts to add. I'll probably rank the sagas in another post.

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

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TW: This chapter contains physical violence, bullying towards neurodivergent/autistic people, vi being a biiiit of a dick, and jinx just being a chaotic mess (we love her)

WC: 4.5k

Part III

bad blood

“Can you read mine?” I blurted out once I returned to the full table where Jinx was scanning through her cards once more. My hands and cheeks were probably as red as rubies as I took my seat, and hoped to actually stay in it for a while this time.

“I can, but just so you know I am simply a messenger and if the cards need to call you out then they will.” She explained with a clearly targeted scowl towards Ellie.

“You’re into this kind of thing?” Vi wondered with a soft nudge of my foot underneath the table as she was already lounging back against the couch.

“A little, yeah.” I shrugged simply before turning back towards Jinx with a small flush on my cheeks. “Go ahead, I’m ready to be called out.”

“Excellent.” Jinx grinned in a way that I could only describe as maniacal as she whipped out a lighter and a bundle of what looked like dried grass squeezed together with twine.

“Ummm, aren’t you not supposed to have an open flame in here?” Ellie chirped almost anxiously from her spot.

“Geez, you guys really are so tense. Why don’t you take a breath?” An unfamiliar voice chimed in from across the table immediately causing Ellie’s head to pop up in the direction of the girl that had spoke. Dina, I believed is what her name was tossed back her long black hair over her shoulder. “Jinx has only blown up a couple of things anyways.”

“That is an absolutely wild thing to say.” Ellie enunciated in what could almost be read as horror. “You understand how that’s an absolutely wild thing to say right?”

“Relax, you’re not supposed to have a lot of things in here. Firearms, explosives, the weed Vi has stashed in her bag and what she’s definitely going to smoke later.” Jinx drawled on as she expertly blew out the flame sparked on the bunched up grass before letting the smoke envelop the tarot deck with ease.

“What the hell, dude! Be a little bit quieter whenever you say that!” Vi voiced with a mild groan.

“You can shuffle, in any way you want.” Jinx responded without a care in the world as she passed the deck off towards me.

“Okay… cool.” I spoke, retrieving my frostbitten and clearly shaking hands from my pockets.

“Mills, you look like you’re freezing, do you want this?” Ellie questioned with a gentle nudge as she was already reaching for the edges of her flannel to pull it off.

“It’s all good, it was my fault anyways. I’ve got it.” Vi chimed in with a clear of her throat as she shrugged the leather jacket from her shoulders. I could’ve gasped at the large muscles on display, the tattoos stretching from her back and down her arms, one of which just slightly concealed by a layer of bandages wrapped around her forearm which nearly had me thinking the worst at first had it not been for the other injuries sprinkled around her body. One atop her bicep by her shoulders and one just off to the side of her chest. Suddenly the underground fighting ring made sense.

“God, you are such a fucking whore. Can you not distract her while I’m trying to give her a reading?” Jinx groaned in annoyance as she gave her a subtle shove even though it looked as if Vi could overpower her pretty easily.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so insecure in my life actually.” Ellie mumbled to herself with a bit of a grimace. “God, I really need to hit the gym.”

“Hockey players usually work out together a few times a week if you wanna come.” Vi directed towards Ellie with a knowing smirk just before I could feel the leather jacket being draped over my shoulders. It was so warm I nearly felt every bit of the cold from outside melting away, her distinctive masculine scent still lingering now even more so. “You can come too, doll.”

The heat in my cheeks remained as I slid my arms through the oversized jacket that could’ve nearly swallowed me. “Maybe.” I answered with a tiny shrug as I shuffled the cards around in my hand, every attempt to look cool probably muddled by how flustered I seemed to be with every little comment she made. “Here.” I cleared my throat as I handed the cards back to the curious Jinx.

“Alright… here we go.” She practically smirked as she pulled three cards from the deck and spread them out in front of me before flipping the first one over with a flourish. Immediately my heart seemed to twist in my chest at the art piece scrawled across: Death. “Nice, I don’t see that one often!” Jinx seemed much too cheerful at the sight as she reached across the table to give me a pat on the back.

“Ummm… wh-what does that mean?” I stammered with widened eyes.

“Relax new girl, Death doesn’t always mean actual death, usually it just means… like, losing a certain part of your life. Or even killing off a part of yourself. It’s a sign something in your life needs to be let go of, something that isn’t serving you anymore. Now… next up we have-” she began with a flip of the next one, “The Lovers. Questionable at best.”

“I thought the lovers was a good card.” Ellie spoke in confusion from next to me.

“You would think, the true card of love is oftentimes seen as Two of Cups though. The Lovers itself represents… choices, you could say. Choices, temptations, with the addition of the death card it could also indicate sacrifice?” She shrugged as if delivering the most casual piece of news ever before flipping over the last card. “Seven of Cups, you’re a daydreamer, aren’t you?” She questioned with probably the first genuine smile I had seen her crack since we’d been here.

“Being a writer, yeah, kind of comes with the territory.” I said with a nervous smile of my own.

“Keep it up, because you could find purpose in those daydreams.“ It seemed so simple compared to the other two cards, so much so I nearly felt myself hyperfixating on that one card alone even as she slid everything back into place. “Sweet, that was an intense one, but definitely juicy.”

“That’s one way to put it, I guess.” I stated with the same heat creeping back up into my cheeks almost annoyingly.

~

I didn’t feel super talkative throughout the rest of the night besides a quick rush to the bathroom to deliver the news of the kiss to Ellie. It was still hard to gauge her reaction. I almost wondered if she’d be happier if it was someone else, anyone else besides the fighting hockey player who had fucked my sister a solid few times. And maybe she had a point. Ellie was a quiet sort of protective though. She never stopped me from doing anything, she would give her thoughts in private declarations, and was always there if things went south. I guess maybe that’s why it was hard to know how she felt.

Luckily for her own overactive imagination though, she was a lightweight. Two beers in and it became as easy as ever for her to drag herself into her own room and knock out. I wish it could’ve been the same for me, or I drank more either way because the moment I curled up in bed sleep became impossible.

My thoughts were completely consumed by her. Her unruly and spiky pink hair she probably stained every surface with dying. The scent of her cologne that I wished lingered just a little bit longer. The feel of her warm hands on my body with her husky voice and muscular frame.

No, sleep wasn’t anywhere near in my future.

~

It was past 8 whenever Ellie finally woke up to find me hunched over my laptop in the living room and surrounded with various pieces of ripped paper and my journal plopped face down on the coffee table. “Woah, you’re up early.” She spoke through a yawn as she rubbed at her eyes.

“I never went to sleep.” I answered without looking up from my laptop, fingers flying across the keys.

“Christ.” Ellie cursed under her breath as she smacked her open palm against her face. “Millie, you should’ve came and got me if you were having trouble sleeping.” She groaned, shuffling forward in her mothman slippers to plop down next to me. “Babe, hands off of the keyboard for a second.” She ordered, gentle but stern hands wrapping around my wrists to pry them from the keys.

“No wait, not yet! They’re about to have their meet cute! Their- Their inciting incident.” I protested as Ellie snatched the laptop from my grasp, eyes briefly scanning over the lit up screen.

“Are you- Are you writing a love story?” She wondered in almost shock. “I thought you were working on a tragedy.”

“All love stories are inherently tragedies.” I spoke, twirling a pen I had stolen from the coffee table in between my fingers as the sudden thought sprung up into my head. “To love is to- is to-” I groaned a bit at the blurry end of the sentence somewhere in my mind, quickly flipping to an empty page of my journal to scribble down the words. “To love is be vulnerable. No, no, that’s not it.” I huffed as I roughly marked out the words. “To love is to accept loss- but love isn’t always accepting though.”

“You know love isn’t supposed to feel like that.” Ellie sighed a bit, gentle fingers carefully tucking the stray strands of hair out of my face as they had escaped from the loose ponytail a while ago.

I blew out another hefty sigh as I hunched forward to bury my head in my arms. “I’m sorry you have to deal with my mania.”

“You’re not making me deal with anything… I’m your best friend. It’s part of it.” She spoke with a shake of her head, gentle but strong arms coming upwards to tug me away from the mess of the coffee table. “C’mon, you need to get some sleep. I’ll be your pillow.”

“You just woke up, and I thought you had practice.” I protested even though I never wanted to say no to her offer of cuddles. Maybe it was inappropriate and I was a bit too obsessed with cuddles. It felt like since I was a kid it had always been hard to fall asleep without a body next to me. I couldn’t count the times I had snuck off to Caitlyn’s room in the middle of the night and crawled underneath the blankets with her. It was just the security of being next to someone. Sometimes an illusion. But I think I was okay with illusions for now.

“Not until later, and it’s only for a few hours before club rush.” Ellie answered just before stretching her longer legs across the length of the couch giving me few choices but to snuggle into her chest. “I wouldn’t mind a little bit more shut eye though, I just wanted to check on you.”

“Wake me up before you leave?” My voice sounded half muffled burrowed in her black shirt.

“Not a chance.” She denied, lounging her head against the arm rest of the couch to use as a makeshift pillow. “You can wake up on your own time and then if we’re still practicing you can meet me at the rink to watch.” She said hopefully causing a little grin to stretch on my lips.

“Sheesh, no wonder people think we’re dating. You’re a stage 5 clinger.” I teased with a giggle.

“Okay, who is the one currently clung to me like a damn koala right now? Sorry I forgot.”

“Dipshit.” I gave her shoulder a playful shove just before curling back up to her chest, it was hard not to get tired with her cuddles. She was soft, the quiet thump of her heartbeat always echoed in my ears, she kept her breathing steady, a calm rise and fall that she timed with the soothing circles she always rubbed on my back. And she smelled exactly like the way I imagined skipping through a wildflower field would. “I love you.” I murmured in a sleepy voice, my heavy eyes finally drawing to a close.

“I love you too, squirt.” I could faintly hear her voice just before I felt myself doze off.

~

Whenever I woke up again Ellie was already long gone, a blanket draped over top of me and a large squishmallow shoved underneath my head to act as a pillow. The apartment felt weird being empty, a few boxes that had yet to be unpacked scattered around the area and I had to fight the urge to start trying to unpack some more. Then I would probably never leave.

The lack of sleep still weighed heavily on my brain but at least I didn’t feel like I was going to keel over anymore. I threw myself in the shower for a hot second hoping it would wake me up, and thankfully it sort of did. I decided on a simple band hoodie and a pair of leggings after shooting a text to Caitlyn and asking what the dress code for club rush was. Luckily there really wasn’t one.

I rubbed at the sleep in my eyes before going to place my glasses back on my face before an alternate thought crossed my mind. I usually didn’t wear my contacts, they were difficult to get in and occasionally weren’t sensory friendly but… maybe it could be time for a change. So with a heavy breath I plopped the little pieces of plastic into my eyes, a string of blinks and a few watery tears following.

I speed braided a strand of my hair before tossing it up into a low ponytail. Then sending Ellie a quick text for a coffee order while packing my things up for a semi busy day, headphones, medicine, notebooks, laptop etc…

Ellie Sunshine ☀️: the rink actually has a sick coffee bar you have to check out 🤭

Ellie Sunshine ☀️: also abby is out for blood today- if i die just know i want to be planted into a tree. willow specifically.

Millie Moon 🌙: i’ll avenge you bby g

Ellie Sunshine ☀️: AVENGE ME MILLIE!! AVENGE ME!!

I let out a giggle at her text messages before slipping my phone back into my pocket and shoving my AirPods into my ears before I could go and retrieve my bike. I always felt a level of anxiety whenever I walked outside alone and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the general sense that things were well and truthfully changing. I was trying to be independent though. It’s not as if Ellie and I had every single class together, there were bound to be some days we’d leave at different times. I needed to get used to it.

The indoor hockey rink was a tall and intimidating structure. Designed to look like a ship it looked more like a dystopian hell than anything. Grey and cold and the dreary weather of Oxford didn’t help either.

Practice was already in full swing working on scoring or a scrimmage or… I wasn’t entirely sure. Sports were never really my thing, nevertheless though I never turned down the chance to go to a game with Caitlyn. Call it the gay in me, I guess. That little aspect suddenly made her relationship with Vi make more sense. She was a beast on the ice, a ruthless animal who wasn’t afraid to get too rough. Not rough in the way that her teammate Abby Anderson seemed to get though. Ellie was right. She did seem to be out for blood with the way she zipped around the ice and treated her stick like it was an extension of her arm.

I gnawed on my bottom lip as I scanned the rink for Ellie’s figure while digging out my notebook. I was so glad she had finally gotten a chance to play. Playing all through high school only to have most of her time overtook by the army afterwards, she was almost afraid she was too out of practice to get back into it. She was great though, better than any typical freshman, I swore she nearly cried whenever she finally got her jersey. Proud to have her name on something for once.

A little smile stretched on my lips at the sight of her whipping around the ice with ease, a slight glimpse of unkept pink hair took my attention though as she skated in towards the puck from the opposite side. The name: Violence written in place of a last name on the back of her jersey. “Ugh, I can’t believe they let her do that.” I heard a scoff from behind me, flinching just the slightest bit before I could around to face the sound. Jinx stood on the row behind me, blue braids spun up into two thick space buns secured at the bottom of her head. “Violence. It’s so cheesy.” She hopped down into the same row as me, plopping down in the seat next to mine before lounging back on her elbows. “So- come here often?” She teased with a waggle of her eyebrows causing me to let out a little laugh.

“Uhhh… no, actually, Ellie wanted me to meet her at practice though so- I’m here.” I said with a tiny shrug while twirling my pencil around my fingers.

“What’re you working on?” Jinx wondered next with a quick change of subject as she gave my notebook a little nudge.

“Oh uhhh… just this like- song thing, I guess you could call it. I started it last night I just, you know, had this chorus in my head.” I answered with a bit of heat creeping up into my cheeks. “Y-You can read it if you want.” I wondered cautiously, always expecting the worst, but I swore I could’ve seen Jinx’s eyes light up in that moment.

“Oh! Word?!” She exclaimed with a grin before snatching the notebook from my hands without hesitation. “I’d love to!” She grinned before letting her eyes scan over the page. All the while I fidgeted with the ends of my sleeves hoping my one paragraphed unedited chorus wasn’t too bad. “Woah- you are quite down bad over somebody if I must say. I mean, it’s good! It’s definitely good… but- definitely down bad.”

My cheeks felt as rosy as ever and not just because of the cold as I shook my head, but not in denial. “I’m- I don’t know what’s going on with me. I-I haven’t felt this way since-“

“Ellie?” Jinx predicted with ease causing my eyes to widen in surprise.

“Wha- wh-why would you think that? I mean, don’t you have a close friend that everybody thinks you’re dating?”

Jinx only snickered with a smirk as she gave me a quick nudge, “Nope.” She said almost proudly with a loud pop. “I get why you guys aren’t together though, dating your mental hospital roomie can get complicated. I mean, I’m not saying that dating Vi wouldn’t be complicated either but-”

“Wait, how did you? I- I never told you any of that.”

“Doggy, was yesterday not a clue? I stay eavesdropping, I’m in everybody else’s business but my own. Especially my sister’s.” Jinx explained without a hint of shame, and I almost had to respect it.

“I- I don’t know how I feel about you watching me make out with your sister.” I spoke with my eyebrows furrowing together in response, but all I got from Jinx was a loud gasp as she gave me a little swat.

“Oh my God, new girl! I didn’t listen in to that point! Holy shit!” She practically squealed but all it made me do was cringe in anxiety. “Well, whatever it is you’re into, you might wanna figure it out. You’re not the only one who’s got a little crush.” Jinx hummed as she gave me a little nudge and gestured off towards one of the other sides of the rink where the same girl from last night was stood. Black hair tied up in a low ponytail this time, arms crossed as she peered into the rink with a look of fierce concentration.

“Well, I want Ellie to be happy so- if Ellie likes her then… I would be okay with it.” I voiced, though trying to hide the general crushing weight that crept into my chest just at the mere mention. The same ache Ellie had told me about last night. “Besides, she doesn’t like me like that- she made it really clear.”

“Did she? Because I know we’re not exactly experts at reading human emotions.”

“Well, I’m an expert at reading Ellie at least.” I shrugged with a little sigh.

A commotion knocked us both from our conversation though, a little breath hitching in my throat the moment I saw Abby’s gloved hands on Ellie again. “Stop!” I yelped out in anxiety, briefly remembering the memory of her telling me about the plethora of injuries she had received from the explosion that had changed everything, a TBI staring right at me in glowing red lights.

Their helmets went rolling down the ice as I watched the two girls hit the floor, “Fucks sake, Abby!” Ellie groaned in pain as her bare cheekbone touched the ice. Thankfully she was strong and knew how to fight back as she swung her off of her, hand flying to her cheek with a hiss of pain.

“Anderson! I told you save for the violence for the other team! That’s the second time you’ve targeted Williams in two days-“ The intimidating coach finally exclaimed from her observational spot in the wings, though part of her seemed to be willing to let it play out.

“Well maybe she should stay out of my fucking shot!” Abby exclaimed, a declaration that had me widening my eyes at her bravery that she’d speak to someone like Sevika in that way. Sevika who already looked as if she was about to blow. The Andersons were much like the Kirammans though, in the sense a lot of the faculty needed to be careful.

“I’m on fucking defense, Abby! What do you expect me to do?! A-Are you gonna do this during actual games too?!” Ellie shouted as she removed her hand to reveal the angry red splotch underneath her eye where she had been rammed into the ice.

“That was a foul, I saw it.” Vi spoke up as she flew over towards where the two girls stood just off of the ice. “She swiped her so she’d purposefully fall on her face.”

Coach Sevika held up a hand as if to tell her it’d be taken care of. “Everyone, take 5, Anderson, Williams, work out your issues and don’t come back until you do. Williams, do you need a medic?”

“I’m fine, I can take care of it.” Ellie huffed as she pushed herself off of the ice with a wince.

“Then why did you get us benched?!” Abby bellowed as she trailed close behind her to give her a firm shove.

“Hey! Stop, leave her alone!” I repeated probably helplessly for the second time, taking off down the stairs and after where the two were arguing.

For a moment I nearly saw Ellie’s past flash in her usually gentle green eyes. The US Army solider who had had to defend herself from much worse and was always prepared for the worst. I didn’t wanna know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached her whenever I did. Nearly tripping over my own two feet as I cautiously crept up next to her. She had taught me a long time ago how to approach her whenever a PTSD trigger hit. I never really got the chance to before Abby was lashing out again, darting her angered expression towards me to the point where I nearly flinched.

“Ellie why don’t you tell your fucking schizo of a girlfriend to stay out of it!”

Ellie’s eyes darkened in a way I hadn’t seen before, the way I imagined they would have on the battlefield as she whipped around to face her with an intensity that had almost gotten her her first shot against her. “What did you just fucking call her?!”

“Ellie, Ellie please- don’t.”

“What the hell is your problem, Anderson?” Vi had finally caught up to the two and I was thanking my lucky stars that she hadn’t heard what had come out of Abby’s mouth.

I gulped an anxious lump down my throat as I slid a hand into Ellie’s gloved one, attempting to pull her off towards the locker rooms but her feet were grounded in place. “I’m really fucking sorry about what happened to your dad, Abby, okay?” She finally spoke up earning me a confused expression from Vi that I could only meet with a shrug. “It was disgusting, inexcusable and it never should’ve happened and trust me whenever I say those soliders never should’ve gotten away with it and I swear to you if I would’ve had any say in it then they wouldn’t have. But respectfully if you have any shit you need to take out on me then do it off of the ice, and if you say one more word like that about Millie you’re going to see that US Army side of me real fucking fast.”

My eyes widened in shock, almost feeling like my feet were glued to the floor as I watched her whirl around and head towards the direction I had been trying to pull her in. “What did you fucking say about Millie?” Venom seemed to drip from Vi’s lips as she turned towards Abby with a fierce glare.

“Uh-oh-” I could hear Jinx’s subtle commentary causing me to curse underneath my breath.

“Man, it isn’t important, I was just pissed.” Abby tried to brush off, but Vi wasn’t having it.

“Clearly it was if you felt the need to bring her into this so tell me, what did you fucking say to her?!” Vi growled just before slamming her body into the protective glass wrapping around the rink.

“Vi- s-stop, please!” I stammered, reaching out to latch onto her broad shoulders as I tried to pry her off. She was so much bigger though, pure muscle seeming to be made out of steel as she refused to move.

“Millie, go check on Ellie, okay? I’ll handle this.” She ordered, body towering over mine even as she peered over her shoulder to face me.

“Violet please-“

“I wasn’t asking!” The words probably came out much harsher then expected causing me to wince once more. She commanded authority, and still I wondered if she was simply trying to protect me or what. But I wouldn’t challenge her after that.

“O-Okay.” I stammered, an ache settling behind my eyes as I turned on my heel to venture back into the locker room.

“Ugh, you are such a dick, do you know that?” I heard Jinx’s voice carry down the hallway, meanwhile I gulped down a heavy lump in my throat as I quickened my pace to take off in Ellie’s direction.

A/N: Two hot girls fighting for your honor- wow, living the dream 🩵

As always please let me know your thoughts! I am really am trying to slow down but it’s hard to whenever I love what I’m writing so much 🤭🥹

[rainroses45]

If I see one more plant!

𖧧description: You happen to be pregnant with a certain angel's baby, and with great power comes great responsibility... so here is how your powers and hormones give the Winchesters several heart attack...enjoy? Castiel x Pregnant Fem! Reader 𖧧a/n: I am obsessed with poison ivy's powers and so I was like hmmmmm "I should write this" and I did (Not Edited) 𖧧song Inspo: Kiwi - Harry Styles 𖧧warning: uummm none that I know of except maybe that pregnant reader gets emotional a lot BUT CAN YOU BLAME HER SHE IS TRYING HER BEST

The first time your powers when haywire was at a small-town department store when you were four months pregnant. Nothing out of the ordinary, nor the usual places the Winchesters frequented, but after a long hunt, they all decided a little downtime wouldn’t hurt especially since they found out you were pregnant.

The Winchesters had all sorts of equipment-guns, knives, books, *cough cough* trauma- but booster seats, cribs, and diapers, not so much. So with that in mind, they didn't argue when you dragged them out to different department stores.

Sam was poking around the electronics section ( his computer screen was stuck on busty asian beauties. com again), Dean was trying on a ridiculous-looking novelty hat, and you were wandering the aisles, following a trail of pink and blue onesies, cute little shoes, and soft blankets.

You hadn’t been feeling emotional at all that morning—really, you hadn’t. The pregnancy was going well, the baby was healthy, and you had Castiel by your side. What could go wrong?

Then, you spotted it: a tiny pair of shoes. They were so small and cute, pink with little flowers on them. Your heart absolutely melted.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes going wide. “They’re just… they’re so tiny! And adorable! Oh my god, what if… what if they… the baby wears them, and I'm having a little baby girl! Oh look they have them in blue too and—and… I just can’t handle this!”

Dean, who had been half-heartedly inspecting a display of bizarre looking mannequins, turned at the sound of your voice. “What the hell is going on over there?”

Before anyone could answer, you started tearing up. Big, dramatic, teary-eyed sobs as your emotions got the best of you. “It’s so cute! This is so cute! OMG why is everything here so cute?!”

Castiel, who had been silently standing by, watching the situation unfold, immediately stepped forward, his face softening in concern. “Y/N, sweetheart, it’s okay. Just… breathe. I understand the tiny items are cute.”

But it was too late for your boyfriend's soft words to soothe you. Your powers had already started to react to the uncontrollable emotions. Tiny flowers began sprouting from the ground beneath your feet. They were delicate little blooms—daisies, roses, violets—pushing through the cracked, textile floor. The flowers spread out around you, their sweet fragrance filling the air, and color overshadowing the cute clothing.

Dean, who had been watching you with a mix of confusion and curiosity, with a hint of amusement, quickly turned to Sam. “Okay, this I did not sign up for.”

Sam was trying to hold back his laughter, but when a single daisy bloomed in the middle of his shoe, he couldn’t help it. “Dude, you’re telling me you didn’t think this would happen? She’s practically the real life poison ivy!”

Dean shot Sam a glare. “Not the point, Sammy. We need to figure out how to fix this before we turn this store into the weirdest garden party ever.”

Meanwhile, while the boys were observing the weird scenario happening some people also were starting to notice. A lady in the aisle who was eyeing the chupones (I don't know what this is called in English sorry) next to you was giving you a curious look, unsure whether she should be worried or mental.

“Uh, hey, ma’am,” Dean said, stepping into her line of sight with a big grin. “Nothing to see here. Just, uh, a bit of… plant therapy going on.” He flashed a grin, trying to divert her attention.

The woman blinked at him, her eyes darting between Dean and the flowers. “Are you… sure? I mean how did the flowers appear out of no where? I mean isn't that a bit odd?”

Sam noticing his brother struggling with getting the lady away from the scene, stepped in, “Oh yeah, it’s totally normal. She’s just… you know, super into horticulture. All natural, totally organic stuff.”

“Yeah, you know,” Dean added with a wink, having no idea what the hell was horticulture was. “Just don’t touch the plants. Some of them bite- fuck." Dean cursed under his breath as he was too late catch his mistake.

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning if she’d accidentally stumbled into a strange dimension or if this was all just an elaborate joke. “I see…” She backed away slowly, nervously laughing while she looked around hoping to see a video camera or something.

Cas on the other hand was doing his best to calm you down. He crouched beside you, gently taking your hands in his, his gaze soft yet filled with concern.

“Y/N, sweetheart, listen to me,” he said in his steady, calming tone. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you need to control your breathing. Focus on me, okay?”

You wiped your tears, sniffling, still a little overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness of the tiny shoes. “But Cas… What if I mess up? What if I’m not a good mom? What if… what if the baby doesn’t like flowers?What if the baby doesn't like the shoes I get them? What if they don't like me? What if I-”

Castiel’s eyes softened even more as he took a deep breath, leaning forward to gently press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re already doing wonderfully. The baby will love whatever you give it—because it will have you. You’ll be perfect.”

You took a shaky breath, your tears subsiding as his words sank in. Slowly, you wiped your tears which seemed to be the same effect of brushing the flowers away from your feet, watching as they melted back into the ground, leaving behind only the faintest trace of green.

Dean and Sam returned to your side, looking almost relieved the situation was under control.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay, that was fun… but if I ever see a store more than five feet away from a hunt again, I’m gonna have to rethink my life choices.”

Sam chuckled softly. “What, you don’t like shopping with us?”

“I don’t mind it,” Dean said with a grin, “but the next time I see any more flowers in this place, I’m throwing a fit.”

You managed a small laugh as you wiped your eyes, the overwhelming emotions still there but a little easier to manage now. “Thanks, guys. I think I’m okay now. But… seriously, I’m never going near baby shoes again.”

Castiel smiled at you, offering a hand to help you back up. “Perhaps we should just stick to something a bit more practical next time?”

You nodded, still feeling a little sheepish. “Yeah, maybe… like, I don’t know, diapers?”

Dean smirked. “I’m all for the diapers. Less flowers, more action.”

The second time it was a quiet morning, and the everyone had decided to take a much-needed break from hunting. After a long few weeks of tracking down monsters, a little downtime at a cozy diner seemed perfect. You, being six months pregnant, were very excited about food. And when you’d glanced at the menu and seen pancakes, you didn’t hold back. You ordered everything—pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, and just about every side dish they had to offer. You were starving. Nothing was going to get in your way between you and your maple syrup.

You slid into the booth with Dean and Sam, Castiel sitting beside you on the opposite end of the brothers. He did look a little out of place in the cozy diner with his trench coat still on, but so did a pregnant lady wearing a Bluey onesie, and two other guys in cowboy outfits.

The brothers were already halfway through their coffee, talking about the next hunt, but your mind was purely focused on the delicious serving of food coming your way.

Dean glanced at you with an amused grin. “You really going to eat all that, or is that just for show?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “I’m pregnant, Dean. I feel like I just ordered an appetizer. Do not judge me.”

Sam laughed softly. “ Leave her alone Dean, she is carrying an angel's baby and a superpowered one at that. Let the girl eat whatever she wants."

Dean just shook his head. “Well, just don’t blame me when you can’t move after. I didn’t order the mountain of food.”

Just as you were about to playfully strangle Dean, the waitress brought over your huge order, but something was off. You had your eggs, you had your bacon, waffles, omelet, but something was missing. There was a stack of pancakes for Sam, a stack of pancakes for Dean, and a stack of pancakes for Cas— everyone got fluffy stack of pancakes except for you.

“Hey,” you said, frowning at the waitress. “Excuse me Miss, where are my pancakes?”

The waitress blinked, clearly flustered. “Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll get them right out for you.” She hurried away not before giving you a smile.

You sighed, staring at your plate, which now had way too many waffles and not enough pancakes. You pouted slightly. “I really wanted those pancakes…”

Castiel, who had been silently observing, stood up with his usual determination. “I will go get them for you, my beloved Y/N.” He headed toward the counter before anyone could stop him, his eyes already focused on the task at hand.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cas, relax. It’s not like it’s a big deal—”

But before he could finish his sentence, two women seated by the counter noticed Castiel, eyes widening as they took in his rugged, angelic demeanor. They exchanged a quick glance, their faces lighting up with interest.

One of them, bold and confident, immediately stood up and walked toward him. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, flashing a playful smile. “I couldn’t help but notice… you’re not from around here. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Castiel, oblivious to the subtleties of anytype of human interactions, blinked in confusion. “I am simply retrieving pancakes for my girlfriend.”

The woman laughed, clearly not getting the hint. “Oh, you have a girlfriend? That’s cute." She dragged her freshly done nails over his chest. "But I bet she’d let you have a little fun, right?”

You, sitting back at the booth, started to feel that familiar irritation rise up, and your fingers twitched. Maybe a little too much.

Before you could stop it, the ground beneath you began to tremble slightly, and tiny cacti started sprouting from the floor, little spinky plants pushing up through the checkered text tiles and spreading outward. A few even shot out from the booth’s cushions, their thorns digging into the fabric around you.

Dean and Sam exchanged a panicked glance, both of them groaning in unison. “Not again,” Sam muttered, rubbing his temples.

Dean just sighed, glancing over at the growing cactus problem. “I swear, Cas better wrap this up before we turn this place into the weirdest garden party.... again!”

You were too far gone to notice their worried glances. Every little flirtatious giggle from the women sent your emotions spiraling, and more and more cacti grew—thick, spinky, sharp, cacti. There were even a few sprouting from nearby tables and counters, causing customers to take wide-eyed steps back.

The women, realizing that Castiel wasn’t giving them the attention they wanted, glanced around nervously. They tried to get a little closer to him, but he was still looking at them with that same confused expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a frown, “but I am in a committed relationship with my amazing, gorgeous girlfriend, and we are expecting a child together. I cannot- no I will not accept your advances because I find your lack of beauty and personality disgusting. So please let me return back to my girlfriend, or I will have to fry your face.”

The women blinked, their smiles faltering. “Oh… uh, I didn’t know you were expecting,” one of them said, her voice wavering. “Well, uh, congratulations, I guess… sorry to bother you.” They quickly backed away, clearly embarrassed, but your plant-related meltdown was far from over. A faint whispers of, "please don't kill us."

"Asshats." Cas muttered as he watched the two ladies walk away, patches of Cactus sticking out of their skin.

Dean and Sam rushed over to your side of the booth and tried calming you down. Sam immediately started pushing the closest cactus plant down into the ground. “Please, Y/N, just calm down! We’ll get your pancakes! We’ll get everything you want!”

Dean took the opposite approach, shoving a plate of his own pancakes toward you, trying to distract you. “Here! Just have mine! Pancakes! See? Everything’s fine!”

You looked at both of them, your eyes wide with irritation as another cactus popped up in the middle of the table. “I don’t want your pancakes, Dean! I want my own pancakes! I want my own boyfriend! I want my loyal boyfriend to bring me pancakes!”

More cacti began sprouting around the booth, some growing from the floor, while others were now tangled between the chairs. Sam was frantically trying to push them back down, his face a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. “Why is she always so persistent when it comes to the plants?! Why couldn’t she just shoot a man like the rest of us?!”

Dean held up his hands, trying to calm you down. “Okay, okay. No need to start a whole desert in here. Cas! Tell her we’re fine. Tell her you already turned down the STD whores!”

Castiel returned to the table, completely unaware of the level of destruction the plants had caused. He placed the pancakes in front of you, a serene smile on his face. “Here you go, beautiful. Your pancakes, I even got them with whip cream.” He placed a kiss on your head. "Would you like me to cut them up for you?"

You took a deep breath as you reached for your pancakes, but you couldn’t help but smile at him even as you felt like you were going to twist his guys inside and out. He’d turned the girls down. And so calmly, too. It was like it wasn’t even a second thought.

Dean and Sam were still working together to keep plants from growing into the booth’s walls. Sam was pushing one of the cacti down, while Dean was shoving another out the door, his eyes twitching with disbelief.

“Guys, I swear,” Dean muttered, “if I have to fight off one more cactus, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“You’re lucky we’re not going to die from these plants,” Sam grumbled, attempting to swat at a rogue vine that had started climbing up a nearby window.

You laughed softly, the last of the cacti finally retracting as you calmed down. You were feeling better, but now the diner was definitely looking a lot more like a desert garden. “Sorry, guys. I just… I couldn’t help it.”

Castiel smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “It’s alright, darling. I would never allow anyone to take my attention from you.”

You smiled, feeling a little sheepish. “Thanks, Cas. You really handled that well.”

Dean and Sam, clearly exhausted from the plant chaos, collapsed back into the booth with you, still eyeing the last few cacti with suspicion.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Dean said, eyeing the growing cactus garden with disbelief. “Next time, we’re sticking to delivery pizza, okay? No more pancakes, no more plants.”

The third time seemed to be no different. It was another quiet morning on the road. The Impala had made a pit stop at a gas station, and the Winchesters, along with Castiel, were inside grabbing snacks and supplies. You were trying to hold it together, but being six months pregnant made everything a little… well, more difficult. You’d been looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching your legs, but the moment you stepped out of the car, you felt the weight of your growing belly.

It had taken a toll on your body. With new stretch marks, and odd cramps and cravings, you didn’t expect to out grow your clothing so fast.

Inside the convenience store, you were eyeing some snacks when Sam, in his usual well-meaning but oblivious way, made the comment that would unintentionally set things off.

“Y/N,” Sam said, glancing up from the bag of chips he was holding, “I think you should get bigger pants or something. I mean, it might help you feel more comfortable, you know? I don’t want you to strain yourself or the baby.” He smiled, thinking the simple hardships of the beginning of motherhood would be appreciated by the soft comfort of jeggings.

You froze. The words hit you harder than Sam could’ve known. Of course, you were aware of your growing belly, but you weren’t expecting to be reminded of it so bluntly (it was no where close to being blunt). You gave him a tight smile, but inside, it stung.

Dean noticed the shift in your mood almost immediately. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and concerned.

But before Sam could even register the impact of his words, you felt the anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. The next thing anyone knew, thick vines began sprouting up around you, twisting and curling out from the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Sam’s legs, his arms, and even his waist. He froze, eyes wide in shock as the plants continued to tighten around him.

“Y/N, what the hell?!” Sam gasped, struggling against the vines. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dean stepped forward, panic rising in his voice. “No, no, not again—come on, Y/N, you gotta calm down.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of weed repellent, spraying it in the air in an attempt to keep the plants at bay. “I knew this would come in handy.”

But no matter how much Dean sprayed, the vines didn’t seem to back off. Sam was now fully encased in a web of thick, green vines that pulled tighter with every second, making it hard for him to move.

“Y/N, please—I didn’t mean it that way!” Sam was practically pleading now, his voice muffled by the plant growth surrounding him.

Dean, frantic and trying to get to you, turned to Castiel. “Cas, help! She’s gone full jungle, and Sam’s about to become plant food!”

Cas, who had been silently observing the whole thing with wide eyes, turned to you with a soft, comforting expression. “Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dean shot Cas a look, as if to say, Are you kidding me right now?

“It’s not okay,” Dean snapped. “Cas, help me! We’re running out of weed repellent, and Sam is literally about to get swallowed by the vines!”

“Those are actually not weeds they are-“ “They could be dancing salsa beans for all I care help me!”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, before turning his attention back to you. He took a slow step toward you, his voice gentle. “Y/N, I know you’re upset, but it’s okay. Sam didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You were still angry, but hearing Cas’ calm tone seemed to ease the tension a little. The vines wrapped around Sam loosened, just slightly, but it was enough for him to gasp for air. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it, Y/N. Please… I just thought you might be more comfortable, that’s all. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I’m so sorry.”

You glanced at Sam, then to Castiel, who was smiling softly at you. The reassurance in his voice had a calming effect, but the vines—now with a mind of their own—had a different idea. They snapped back at Sam one last time, tightening around his chest, almost as if to say, this is what happens when you mess with my girl.

Dean, now frantically spraying more weed repellent, hissed, “Cas, please do something! We’re losing Sam to the vines!”

Castiel stepped closer to you, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Y/N, honey, just breathe. Everything’s fine. Sam didn’t know how his words affected you.”

Dean, now out of repellent, was genuinely losing his patience. “Cas, seriously, do something! He’s gonna get tangled in the damn plants forever if you don’t!”

You took a deep breath, the vines finally relaxing around Sam, though he was still stuck. You raised an eyebrow at Dean’s frantic expression, your anger dissipating into something more mischievous.

“Oh sorry,” you said, your tone finally softening. “I’m sorry Sam, I just- I don’t know what came over me it’s been hard controlling everything you know?” The vines retreated slowly, leaving Sam tangled up in a few stray leaves, looking slightly defeated.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Thank God. If I had to deal with you two and the plants much longer, I was about to set the whole diner on fire.”

Sam, now free of most of the vines, shot you a sheepish look. “No it’s my fault. Sorry, really. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I guess I should’ve worded that differently.”

You finally gave him a small smile, the tension breaking. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m sorry for letting my powers get the best out of me. It’s hard to tell wether it’s the baby or me who’s in control.”

Dean threw up his hands, looking exasperated. “It’s not okay! You almost turned this place into Jurassic Park! We can’t keep dealing with this every time you get upset!”

Cas, with his trademark calm demeanor, reached over to gently rub your back. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You just need to know it’s okay to express your feelings.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the comfort.

Dean rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. “I swear, if I have to fight one more damn plant, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” you said, laughing softly, “I think we’re done with the plants for now.”

Dean shot a glare at the nearest cactus sprout. “Yeah, well, let’s hope so.”

*Cue the meme*

Dean after not seeing a plant  incident

“wow i haven’t stubbed my toe in 5 months” I said with joyous

(you go into labor and cause a whole rainforest)

I was then shot 57 times in the chest

[shysuccubusstuff]

Bodyguard! Mr. Scarlatella:

Content: Yandere! Mr. Scarlatella but he is actually human + assassin + farmer! scarlatella; non proof-reading; female anatomy + dubcon/noncon + kidnapping + usage of substances (once for the kidnapping) + mindbreak + lovesick! Mr. Scarlatella; cunnilingus + breeding kink + baby trapping + possessive! dom + overstimulation + orgasm denial + creampie + impregnation + trophy wife! reader (kind of?)

Summary: You never imagined that the guy that was about to end your father's and your life would end up falling head over feels for you, but hey, at least you're alive, right?...

Word count: 4240 words.

Note: I just hate how my brain decides to get dry af as soon as I end with my exams/essays... btw, Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this!! I'm thinking about making a kind of pt. 2 but with Mr. Crawling, let me know if you would want to read it!! It's weird to go back to the more dark stuff when I had started to write less heavy stuff... I feel I may have gotten a bit too creative for his personality, so let me know!!

Note 2: Let me know if any content tag is missing-- I wrote this over a whole week so I may have forgotten some...

You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest so it was only natural for you to live under the feeling of being targeted by someone, even since you were a child. So when your father presented a new bodyguard for you, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just some new guy who would probably quit by the month (at most). So he arrived, long black hair falling in a cascade and deep purplish pupils that pierced you through his polarised glasses.

"Dear, this is the new bodyguard, I hope you know how to behave yourself, I don't want to keep on complaining to that damn company, they keep saying it's your fault, but it's impossible for it to be solely your fault, I mean, it's been over 10 bodyguards in less than two months... Anyways, I have to leave, Daddy has some work to do." With that, your father left, his expensive cologne lingering in the air as he slammed the door, the new bodyguard still on the entrance of your room, a slightly unsettling smile creeping on his lips as he stood there.

"So you won't even introduce yourself? Seriously, the quality of that damn company is so freaking low... Can't believe they didn't even teach you how to introduce yourself." The man bowed a bit, taking a small notebook and giving it to you. "What the...? So you're saying that you're still learning the language and don't want to mess up? Ugh, ok, whatever. What's your name?" The man with crimson hair refused to speak, stating that he had not received a proper code name yet. "Seriously? Can't even call your name cause they didn't gave it to you, well that's just perfect. Don't bother me, just stand outside or whatever, as if I care." With those last words, the man left, finally leaving you alone in your room. "What the heck is wrong with that dude? I'm gonna complain to that fucking company of security, how am I supposed to trust him when I don't even know his name..."

As time went on, you were slowly able to get to know him, getting to know that he was actually coming from Japan because of some "old acquaintance" he knew since many years ago, that he loved magic tricks and that he was actually quite... cute. It hurt to even think it, but it was true, he was a cute man, always behind you when you allowed him, always running around you with your delicious drink ready and your purse hanging off his shoulder. God, he even learnt how to do your nails, makeup and hair in case you wanted to get it done on the days you were just too lazy to get out of the house... He was even there that night.

You had waken up by around three in the morning, making your way to your door so you could get something to eat in the kitchen, soon noticing that Scarlatella (as you liked to call him in a kind of playful way because of his hair colour) was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was human as well, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something like that. As you were about to arrive to the kitchen, you noticed that the mansion was a bit too quiet, one would even say that it would have been possible to listen to a pin dropping to the marble ground. Unsettled, you quickly made your way to your father's bedroom, but you soon found out that the bed was completely cold. Now alarmed, you run to his studio, the sound of your feet resonating all over the empty corridor as you forced the door open, soon finding a terrible scene.

It was your father, well, what used to be your father, as his body was already turning cold, his skin turning slightly blue with clear signs of choking. Just as you were about to scream, your vocal cords were unable to produce a sound, your lungs being completely filled with a strange air that made you gasp for hair before you started to feel lightheaded. As you felt your conscience drift, you silently cursed that stupid company and that useless yet slightly charming man.

By the time you woke up, you soon noticed that your whole body was intact, expect for slight marks of rope on your wrists. As soon as you recovered a bit, you took a deep breath, deciding to try and scream to the top of your lungs in case someone could hear you.

"Hey! Someone there? Some crazy jackass has kidnapped me and---!" Suddenly, the heave iron door was opened, a familiar face entering the room.

"Good morning, dearest. I'm so glad you were finally able to open your eyes, you see, it was a bit difficult to get the amount of dose correctly, as I have never tried to keep someone as tiny and beautiful as yourself." Your old bodyguard entered, the heavy door closing behind him as he brought a tray on one of his hands. "Here, I brought you a few things I know you like." You looked at the delicious-looking food, your mouth watering as you saw all your favourite desserts, together with a bunch of your most beloved fruits. Despite the confusion, you tried to keep it together, looking to the other side and refusing to do what he asked. "Dearest, you've been asleep for over t--" Before he could end his sentence, you had already hit the tray with one of your legs, sending the appetizing food.

"Why the fuck are you here? You failed protecting me-- Fuck, you left my father to die, you're lucky I'm tied here cause I would crush your fucking skull with my---" The crimson-haired man got closer, dangerously close, in fact, his warm breath hitting against your face.

"Oh dear, I always knew you had quite the filthy mouth, but you must have been quite shocked to see that pig like that... I understand, I would never stop loving you for something trivial like that... Nor for anything, to be fair." His cold hands touched your face, the callouses in his hands making you frown even more than before.

"Listen fucker---." The man covered your mouth with his much larger hand, the shivers resulted from the cold shifting into goosebumps from the fear.

"Shh, dear. I understand, no need to explain it to me. I will make sure to re-educate you so you can go back to your natural self, that pig tricked your poor mind, but I will be able to fix it for you, see? I’m being such a good man for you, after all, I was supposed to kill you, but I even decided to turn my back to my client and let you live, I even avoided someone to think that you were alive. It was a bit of a hassle, but hey, I would do everything for you, dear.” The man finally got away from your face, taking the tray that had fallen to the ground because of you, together with the food that had been smashed to the ground. “It’s ok, dear. I understand this will take some time, luckily, I have all the time in the world, you just need some… hard love. I’m sure you will start to appreciate my company and care soon enough.” With that, the man smiled one last time to you, leaving the room with the sound of the heavy iron door closing, leaving you in the middle of the dark.

Since that moment, your slow torture started. The man left you in the dark for who knows how long, covering your eyes with a soft cloth, only taking out when he was around so he could start to… kind of associate him with the light, you supposed. He kept bringing you scrumptious plates, from your favourite foods to exotic ones. Of course, that was until the… maybe over tenth time you had throw his tray to the ground. That time, he simply took the tray, taking once again all the food on the floor and leaving in complete silence. The next time you was him was after… maybe one whole day? Your stomach kept rumbling, and what began as anger quickly became desperation, then crying and finally crying while screaming.

By around two months, your mind and body had become completely accustomed to his timetable and behaviour, letting him pet you as you ate what he brought, letting his hands clean your whole body and hair, not even complaining when you felt his hands drift towards your more private parts. Scarlatella looked extremely content with his work, rewarding you with constant praises and even a “pretty” collar for you. Despite it was a clear symbol of your turn into a kind of pet, the collar was beautiful, the gold glistening under the cold light as the beautiful charm with the form of a heart made a small noise of a bell each time you moved.

“Do you like it? I wanted something to congratulate you, after all, you have finally graduated. You are now back to your natural self.” You nodded, letting your head fall on his lap as he kept petting you. “I was thinking about giving you whatever you want, you can just ask.” He waited patiently until you were able to think about something other than the warmth that was coming from his body.

“…Freedom. I want to leave this room, please.” His eyes widened a bit, perhaps surprised that you were still able to think about your freedom.

“Dear, I know this can get suffocating, but you must stay here, it’s for your sa—”

“Please! I can feel my mind… slipping. This is getting worse each day, I… I don’t want do it, but the constant darkness is making me… think about… Just give me a bigger place, I don’t need something as fancy as my house, just something bigger than this room.” Scarlatella looked at you with a puzzled expression, his hand still massaging your scalp as he thought. Finally, he answered, not before letting a deep sigh.

“I suppose that’s fine. I can think of a story to explain your sudden appearance. Give me a few days so I can get everything ready, yeah? Promise I will do it.” As soon as he said that, he got up from the sofa that was in the room, quickly leaving the place before you were able to beg him to keep his promise.

Contrary to what you believed, Scarlatella kept his promise, coming back with a small suitcase and some clothes for you to change yourself, taking your hand as he made you walk with your eyes covered by that well-known cloth. When you were finally told to take it off, you were in the middle of a beautiful flower field. All the flowers were spider lilies, making it seem as if it was some kind of blood-filled battlefield.

“Do you like it, dear? I had to pay some money so they could build this house, together with planting these flowers.” He kept his grip around your wrist tight, not hurting you, but not letting go either. As he opened the door, you finally saw the house. It was a beautiful villa, completely decorated with cottage-like furniture.

“Yes, I like it.” Scarlatella smiled, a strange sheen in his gaze.

Soon, you realised why was he looking at you like that. You had fallen completely into his plan for turning you into his wife. He had created some complex story about you being his wife for over eight years, having to separate because you had been taking care of your sick father while he worked to the bone to get you as much as he could for the moment you came back to him. Everyone in the small hometown believed him, after all, he had been working there as farmer for quite some time, using it as a mere disguise so he could plan every little detail, creating a perfect façade so everyone would simply nod and smile to whatever he said. After that, your role became the one of a housewife, making you bake, cook, and clean, keeping the house warm and tidy by the time he arrived back home.

Soon, the days started to melt together, and your deep engraved hatred for him turned into a less bitter resentment. After all, he was the one that was providing for you, keeping you all warm and cozy while buying every single thing you asked him for, never doing anything that could hurt you. Slowly but surely, your mind started to reshape once again, now seeing him as a still intimidating, yet protecting figure. With that, it was finally the perfect ground for Scarlatella to create his perfect little wife.

Since that moment, Scarlatella started to become more physical with you, helping you around with all the cooking, “accidentally” rubbing his groin against your ass while he pretended to search for something on the top shelf. Not only that, but he made sure you could see him as a capable man, carrying the animals over his shoulder with ease, other times he was simply fixing stuff around the place. But the last moment he needed for your brain to start to see him as a possible partner was when you found him around town playing with the small children from the orphanage. He was surrounded by all of them, lifting them around and making them fly across the hair, his relaxed smile plastered on his face as he tried to make them control themselves as they waited their turn. Your eyes widened a bit, surprised to see him in such a… casual scene. So when he got back home, his working shirt slightly drenched because of the sudden rain that had started quite recently. The shirt was getting clung on his body, making his lean and muscular body stand out even further.

“Hey dear, how was your day? I hope it went great. Sorry I’m late, can’t believe I got caught in the middle of the rain while I was finishing some errands…” As he said that, he made his way around the kitchen, taking off his shirt and leaving it hanging on one of the chairs, surrounding your smaller frame with his arms. “I missed you so much, dear.” You tried your hardest to pretend not to notice, but of course you did, fuck, his groin was rubbing against your ass, and even then, it was clear that he was quite… gifted, down there. Still, you simply tightened the grip on the knife, biting your lips as you kept trying to focus on the food you were cooking.

Ever since that moment, you were no longer able to control yourself, always orbiting around him with your hand tightly wrapped around his arm every single time any other persons started to look way too affectionately at him. Scarlatella quickly noticed this, looking completely pleased with how he had been able to fix your precious little brain into a loving wife. In fact, he even started to pamper you even further, kissing your forehead every morning, asking you to let him shower together… Of course, you said yes.

So then, the two of you entered the bathroom, slowly undressing each other as the water started to warm up. “Love, you look so nice like this… All naked for me… I could just eat you up.” His hand drifted around your body, making your body shiver under his hands, and even if you were about to kiss him, he got away, extending his hand so he could help you get inside the bathtub. “Let me help you, dear.”

As the two of you finally entered the bathtub, he calmly traced your body with the sponge, making sure to scrub your skin without causing any type of harm. Then, he moved to your hair, taking the bottle of shampoo and scrubbing it while he hummed a little tune. Then, he focused on himself, redoing everything he had done to you. As he did that, your naked bodies kept pressing against each other, making you squirm at the slightest touch and forcing you to let small whimpers out every time you felt his lower half rub against your back. Finally, Scarlatella lost his composure as you kept pressing against him on purpose. “Dear… I have a feeling that you’ve been quite, eager to make our relationship more physical, am I right?” His eyes were now fixated on your face, making you feel even more flustered as you avoided his gaze. “Oh sweetheart, if you wanted that, I could have given it to you any time, after all, I do believe it is time we get to expand our little family.” And despite you would have normally shivered in disgust, this idea now started to charm you. So you nodded, accepting whatever he wanted you to do at that point. “Then we should get to business, let me get you ready love.” With that said, Scarlatella finally kissing your lips, his tongue entering your oral cavity as if he had been starving for a long time. “You taste so good… I could stay like this forever.” Scarlatella kept kissing you, his hands starting to glide towards your chest, starting to play with your nipples as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. “Dear… I think we should move to our bedroom; I don’t want your first time to hurt.”

“Oh, that’s fine, not like it’s my first time, you know, I did it a few times before you became my-.” Before you were able to finish your sentence, Scarlatella was already getting the two of you out of the bath, lifting you up and carrying you over to the bedroom he had been preparing for quite some time. Despite his gaze looked a bit crazed out, he let you down softly on the bed.

“It seems I was a bit too gentle with you, that was my fault. I suppose you must prefer someone meaner, treat you as if you were a little fuck toy, I suppose your brain is still not that adapted to having a husband, that’s ok, I will fix it.” With nothing left to say to you, he got on top of you, towering over your smaller body as he started to kiss your neck. “I just wish I could have arrived earlier… Get to be your first, let you make me yours…It’s a shame we had to meet under those circumstances.”  And even regardless his almost apologising words, his actions were crude, clearly showing his uncontrollable desire to make you completely his. “… I should definitely get you pregnant, make sure everyone knows who your husband is, let’s see if any other fucker tries to get with my sweet wife.” As he kept mumbling to himself, his lips started to make a trail towards your chest, moving even further down as your moans got louder. Suddenly, he got away from you for a second, taking something from the small nightstand. Still quiet, he opened the small bottle, letting the sticky liquid help him prepare your pussy for him. “Not like you will need it, apparently you were more prepared than me.”

“Come on, it’s not like we are… fuck, I don’t know, it’s just, it’s not like you are a virgin, right? There’s no need for---”

“I am.” His hands stopped for a second, his fingers a few inches away from entering you. “I’ve been investigating so I could make it as comfortable for you as possible, but that’s ok, I will make sure our next time is perfect… Let’s just use this time for letting you know how this works.” Without further due, Scarlatella started to tease your entrance, rubbing his fingertips against your entrance, while his other hand started to move towards your weak spot, starting to tease your clit as he kept kissing your neck. As the minutes went on, you started to notice a weird warmth inside your cunt, making your tears swell up in your eyes as Scarlatella kept teasing you.

“Stop— Can’t—It feels weird, like really weird, it’s not normal!” Scarlatella smiled wickedly, his eyes darkening as he saw how your pussy kept releasing your sticky fluids, with no shame, he got his face closer, starting to leave kitty licks over your clit before he began to fuck your entrance with his tongue, making you cry due to the overstimulation as he kept stopping just before you could release. This torture kept going for a couple minutes, making you clench the sheets, biting your lips as you kept mumbling barely understandable words: “Please, please… Just—Please! Fuck, please, let me cum, please, please…” Your words kept slurring, making him smile at the beautiful portrait he had been able to turn your gorgeous face into, he caressed your face with one of his hands, his lips still curved into an amused look as your face had become a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva. Suddenly, you felt Scarlatella’s arms wrap around you, lifting you from the bed and letting you lay on his lap, his unclothed erection rubbing against your clit, rocking your body back and forth as he kept taunting you.

“I just can’t believe you preferred some random person over me, love. I’ve waiting for you my whole life, I even learnt all this… tricks to get you to feel as good as possible.” All of sudden, his tip went in, barely letting you get ready as he kept pushing it inside and out, making your eyes water as he kept tormenting you for a few minutes more, his gaze becoming more and more obscure as his erection just kept growing. “Fuck, whatever… I’ll just have to prove you that nobody will ever fuck you like I can, get you pregnant so you can only see me… love me…” His eyes lightened for a second just from the thought, and before you even noticed, your back was once again pressed against the mattress, with Scarlatella towering over you as he was finally able to gradually introduce his whole length, the stretch making you whine and cling to his back. “You feel so good around me, love… Just wait, I’ll fill you up, fill your pretty pussy with my cum so nobody ever tries to get too close to you—You’ll look so pretty with your tummy all round—” As Scarlatella’s hips started to punish your sore cunt, you were finally able to cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs locked around him, as a poor attempt on getting him to stop for a second.

“Wait—Too soon, I can’t get pregnant yet!” You pushed a bit against his lower abdomen, your hands barely stopping him as they kept shaking because of the constant orgasms that just kept pilling up, forcing your brain to become more and more fuzzy each time. It was then that Scarlatella wrapped his own hands around your waists, using them as mere handles for him to push the tip of his cock just a bit further, just enough for you to cum once more with a pathetic whine. Despite you had already cum all over him, Scarlatella’s thrusts didn’t slow down, if not growing stronger as his mind was already too far gone.

“Gotta get you pregnant—That’s all I need—Fill your pretty pussy with my cock and get you to- Fuck- cream all over my cock, that’s it baby… Cum all over your husband, make a mess on my cock, you’re doing so good love…” His words kept resonating in your mind, almost as if it was some kind of chant, and despite you tried your best to endure it, your brain gave up, after all, Scarlatella had been taking care of you so nicely… It wouldn’t hurt to let him keep doing it for the rest of his life… right? As Scarlatella kept muttering to himself, his cock was already twitching, signifying just how close he was to releasing his essence inside of you. With your mind now completely broken, you smiled, your arms and legs tightening around his waist as his cock kept hammering against your cervix, one of his hands carefully pressing against the lower half of your abdomen, causing the pleasure to just build up even further as he finally released his load inside of you, his constant groans now turning into soft praises and kisses. “You did so good, love… Let me take care of everything from now on, I will make you the happiest wife ever, no need to think about anything, just promise to tell me everything you need or want, yeah? I’ll be the best husband int the world.” His hands kept petting your hair as his cock started to deflate inside you, still remaining inside as he refused to pull out in case some of his essence spilled out. “Let’s wait a bit, love. I will prepare the bath in few minutes; I just want to make sure everything goes correctly.” He peppered a few kisses all over your face, his hand rubbing your tummy as he kept imagining that near future he had been longing for.

[allpiesforourown]

Okay so yes, Shen yuan is a cow, but he still Shen yuan. It’s the middle of the night again and I’m trying to fall asleep but cowzun plagues my thoughts. I’m thinking maybe he was human and lived his Shen yuan life as we know it reading shit web novels as the rich third son and died at like 20 then he gets reincarnated as a cow but still remembers being a human man and so is still the Shen yuan we know. Shang Qinghua is still airplane and died but he got reincarnated as human in this life. I don’t think this is his novel but peerless cucumber still left comments on his work as he does. Shang winghua figures out that shen yuan has human brain but also kinda thinks he’s just sleep deprived delirious from overworking at first. But then he keeps noticing how Not Normal this cow is and realizes this cow used to be a dude. Idk how it happens after that but shangqinghua goes out to the barn to hide from work sometimes and brings Shen yuan comics and novels. Shen yuan has a hard time reading with his cow eyes so Shang Qinghua reads to him sometimes and complains about work. Their relationship is then like canon. I don’t know how they work out communication but they do. Somehow.

What would the endless abyss be? Not just asking you (pie) but ur followers too. Any thoughts?

Also. The first cowzun ask I was typing I wrote fuck and accidentally hit d instead of f so it said duck. I corrected it and might have just deleted that part don’t remember, but it left me thinking: who would be a duck in this au? Gongyi xiao maybe? Or is he more oriole? Or swan?

Also pie is cowzun seriously where you draw the line? I thought you loved all versions of shizun. Wouldn’t you want to gain his trust enough until he lets you pet his nose? Cow noses are super soft. Like crazy soft. You don’t want him to trust you so much that he’d let you pet that soft, delicate part while you look into his cow eyes and he snuffles on your hand? Really? What happened to loving all facets of shizun so you could truly love him? You love shizun as a cat but not a cow? Is this the line you draw?

I am so tired I just wan to sleeeeeep. Brain shut the duck off. …and now I’m thinking about the duck question again. Who is the duck? I must know.

HOW WILL A COW GIVE ME HEADPATS. I need someone I can TALK TO and hold and kiss and fuck and marry and grow old with. How can I do that with an animal with a max lifespan of 20 years. Also the duck is obviously Ming Fan who imprinted on shizun after hatching and thinks he's his mother and aggressively attacks binghe with his beak on sight

[ye4gerism]

hiii😊 I kinda have a few questions about curly’s mom Ngl and maybe his dad. I think my first question for his mom though is….is she racist or just a toxic boy mom or both. I also kinda wonder like what makes her like jimmy so much. Then about his dad. Ik we don’t really know much about him but I just wanted to know like does he likes us at all or more than the mom. I also kinda want to understand curly and his mom’s dynamic. Like when it comes to the toxic boy mom is she trying to see the husband she wants in curly. Because it kinda just came to point where is like these weird boy moms are kinda grooming or being weird with their son. Or is it more of just she’s jealous like jimmy but they aren’t jealous in the same way. I guys my class question is just why did curly’s mom and dad and how did curly take it. Also sorry if this is a lot😭 happy holidays 🎄

author’s note hi! thank you for your ask. this is a long post and i don’t want to clog up the feed. so click ‘keep reading’ to keep reading lol.

content good luck captain

ok so, here’s the long answer to your first question 😭 as you’ve probably noticed i am a black writer and make it my purpose to write for readers who look like me. the mouthwashing fandom is still so new and i haven’t really seen any black reader stories for curly (or really anyone) except for @grimmsbride who i’ve seen writing for curly and daisuke (check them out!).

because i still want an audience to cater to (and i don’t know what demographic i’m actually pulling from my fics), i would say yes and yes to your question about curly’s mom in good luck, captain. i could definitely see her being prejudice to reader if they’re poc and is most definitely a toxic boy mom. whatever the case is for you, she’ll never really see you as the best fit for her son.

as for jimmy, i’ve mentioned he grew up with curly in happy birthday, jolene. she just sees him as another son just based on shared history and proximity. he’s family.

i haven’t thought much about curly’s dad and just now realized i probably should have included him and his reaction to the tuplar crash in best wishes, curly. i feel that curly really favors his father and i hinted in dream of fish that his mom doesn’t really like that. as it’s been previously mentioned, he lives in australia and had most of the custody over curly. i imagine him as a really chill dude who’s really really funny and charming and likes to explore. he’d probably get remarried to someone who shares his humor and sense of adventure. when reader and curly are dating, she’s only spoken to mr. curly a few times over facetime or skype. but he likes you and accepts you as his son loves you tons. he let curly propose to you in his home.

i would say that during the events of best wishes, curly, he didn’t come visit you in person as it was hard for him to handle the loss of his son but he did call from time to time. even when curly came back, it was still tough for him to see his son but he still maintains a relationship with him.

curly respects his mom but there is a limit to their relationship. he did go to school in australia and came to stay with her on breaks - he didn’t get to see her all the time and as he grew, he tries to maintain a healthy and balanced relationship with her. he got closer to her when he decided to go to college in the united states and she really takes advantage of their proximity. i wouldn’t say she’s grooming him. she left a marriage that she felt wasn’t perfect and would lonve to be involved in curly’s decisions when it comes to who he’s in love with. sometimes she’ll suggest the daughters of her friends from work or church bc she thinks they’ll fit in her idea of what curly��s family and future should look like.

over time, i feel that she would be jealous of reader bc she got the family that mrs. former curly wanted.

mr. curly and mrs. former curly just fell out of their rhythm. they were high school sweethearts and had the perfect white picket fence life and it just didn’t work out one day. after countless arguments, curly’s dad decided to file for divorce and mrs. former curly signed them in a heartbeat. obvs curly was confused and heart broken as his parents did a good job hiding their issues and he couldn’t fathom why they would separate. having to go back and forth between continents was stressful at first but it became a routine for him.

and no worries about the length of your ask. i appreciate your interest in good luck, captain! happy holidays to you too!

[class1akids]

And as a bakugou fan, I don’t understand how his ending was in anyway balanced. He didn’t get the worse ending, but his ending wasn’t great either. It was incredibly lack luster and revolves around Deku. I know you like to say that his character is more than deku, but in those last chapters, his character literally only revolves around Deku and nobody and nothing else matters.

We don’t get to see him get his card singed. And when we do see it signed, it’s just All Mights name and nothing else. Nothing personal or anything. Which pretty much sums up their entire relationship. Impersonal

We don’t know anything about how he feels about dropping to number 15 and he doesn’t say anything about it at all. Which seems to me like that competitive spirit doesn’t exist in bakugou anymore and he’s content at where he’s at.

We also don’t know anything about his hero career at all. He’s starting an agency even though heroes have more free time and there’s not that much villains anymore. For what? We have no idea why he wanted to start an agency, what type of agency he wants, if he wants anyone else to join it. It’s just about Deku.

So as a bakugou fan, his ending wasn’t great. It was lackluster and lacking because it wasn’t about him. It was strictly about Deku. There was nothing balanced since Bakugou’s character is mainly about Deku and he doesn’t have much going for him as a character

His ending has been balanced to fit with everyone else's shitty endings - that was my point.

Up until then, everyone got shitty endings, except Bakugou, who somehow ended the manga in Ch 430 on a much higher note than the rest of the cast (which prompted all the Deku-cuck memes). And a large part of the fandom was not satisfied with the ex-bully "winning" everything, while the MC being what was widely perceived by the dude-bro audience (which I guess is important to WSJ) as a "loser teacher, with no powers, no girlfriend and nothing but a pity-suit".

To respond to these criticisms, Hori wrote / was asked to write (idk) Ch 431, where he puts the emphasis on countering these Deku-cuck allegations - and overall prioritizing Deku over Bakugou in this chapter. He also somehow wasted 22 pages on Uraraka, trying to make her extra hot and extra successful, so she can be a good prize for Deku which apparently pleased the crowd it was aimed at.

Look, I'm not defending Ch 431 - I am incredibly irritated that after 428 and 429, Hori made yet another Uraraka chapter, while neglecting every other character. I wanted to know more about everyone, including Bakugou.

Btw, I think you are not reading carefully the dialogue - Bakugou didn't just start an agency. Kirishima is the one who started recently - he was Fatgum's sidekick up until then. Bakugou is implied to have had his own agency since the start when he entered the chart as No 4 (as sidekicks don't get ranked).

Anyways - things we learn of Bakugou:

He entered the charts at No 4 - and has been falling in the ranks due to his attitude

He was very popular and admired due to his fight against AFO and was always flooded with sidekick applications

He's refused many applicants, because he is seeking someone who really challenges him

He got his All Might card signed

He's driving a Porsche, so must be doing really well financially

He's keeping in regular touch with Edgeshot

He's keeping in regular touch with the Bakusquad

He is a guest lecturer at UA from time to time

So yeah - not that much, but I think it shows that he does have a life outside of Deku. It also shows his big yearning for the rivalry he had with Izuku - and it becomes his karma for pushing Deku away for so long. At least, that's how I read it.

Fwiw, I'm sure that after the criticism of Ch 431 from the BKDK corner, those "short chapters" Horikoshi was mentioning in the Jump Festa letter will swing wildly in the other direction again to please the disgruntled Bakugou-fanbase. That's literally his writing "method" - he's just reacting in panic mode to whatever fan complaints reach him without a single thought to how it will affect the rest of his writing.

He's flapping from one corner to another, and can't commit to anything which is how he destroyed his own manga.

[lilmisshellfireswritingblog]

The Prophecy Chapter 3: Please, I've Been on My Knees

Summary: Aurelia retreats to her private quarters after their wedding feast and Lucius visits.

A/N: Thank you everyone for taking this journey with me! This may be the shortest chapter of the series but who knows. I hope you keep enjoying this story! If you want any specific blurbs from this universe, I can take requests! ALSO, I started making a playlist for this story so, if you want it, let me know and I can share it. Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, hint of marriage consummation, she's not excited about consummation but she consented, flashback, Geta being Geta, Lucius being an okay dude and not pressuring our girl.

Separator banner credit to: sweetmelodygraphics.

Flashbacks are labeled as such.

Aurelia’s private quarters were dimly lit by a few flickering candles, their flames casting long shadows against the marble walls. The opulent chamber was still and quiet, far removed from the jubilant clamor of the banquet hall. Aurelia stepped inside, her crimson gown trailing behind her, her face drawn with exhaustion and a kind of quiet fury that had built throughout the evening.

She crossed the room with deliberate steps, her shoes clicking softly against the polished floor and came to a stop in front of the wide window, looking out at the twinkling lights of the city below. The moon hung high, casting a pale light over the Roman rooftops. It should have been a sight of beauty, but to her, it was just another reminder of the cold empire she was a part of—one that had stolen so much from her, including her peace.

Behind her, she heard the quiet rustling of fabric as Lucius Verus entered the room. She didn’t turn. She didn’t have to. His presence was unmistakable, as it always was. He had been quieter tonight than she expected, but then again, he didn’t need to speak to make his presence known. His energy filled the room with a heavy tension, the kind that always lingered after a battle—an uneasy truce between two warriors who had fought their own wars, even if they had never met on the battlefield.

"I didn’t think you’d be here so soon," she said, her voice betraying the fatigue in her bones.

Lucius didn’t answer right away, and when she finally turned to face him, he was standing by the door, his posture rigid, as if he too were unsure of what to do with the space between them. He had removed his imperial cloak and his tunic, revealing the broad expanse of his shoulders and the hard lines of his body, still as striking as ever. But there was something else about him—something softer now, something that seemed less like an emperor and more like the boy he must have been in his faraway childhood, a time before all of this.

Aurelia felt a sudden pang of something she couldn’t name—a fleeting sympathy, perhaps?—but she quickly shoved it aside. She had learned long ago to bury her emotions, to guard her heart. There was no room for such weaknesses now.

Lucius’s piercing blue eyes met hers, searching, almost as if he were attempting to read her.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked, his voice low, but the question hung in the air like a challenge.

Aurelia didn’t flinch. She wasn’t afraid of him, not in the way others were, not anymore. She had already seen what he was capable of—he was a gladiator, a killer, a man forged in the heat of battle. What could he possibly do now, except attempt to break her.

But she was already broken.

"I meant every word," she replied sharply, her voice gaining strength. "I will never love you, Lucius. I will never be your ally by choice. But I am here. I will play my part, for Rome and for the Empire."

Lucius didn’t react at first. He just stood there, watching her. His gaze was steady, unwavering, but there was something different in it now—less of the emperor’s cold authority and more of a man who had seen too much of life’s cruelty to believe in anything like love.

"You think I want your love?" His voice was quieter now, almost a whisper, but it carried a certain bitterness that made her pause. "You think I came into this marriage with the hope that we’d be some great power couple, ruling Rome with passion and glory? I have no illusions, Aurelia Carina Cassia."

The use of her full name—Aurelia Carina Cassia—felt like a weight, as though he were not just speaking to her, but to the very woman she had been before all of this. The name she had been born with, the name that had been tied to another life. A life that was no longer hers.

"Then why did you marry me?" she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She had asked herself the same question countless times, but hearing him speak so bluntly, without pretense, it made her want to understand.

Lucius's jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if searching for the right words. "Because I had no choice," he said, his voice low but firm. "I couldn’t rule without legitimacy. I needed you to secure my claim. Your bloodline... the Empire needed to see me as the true heir."

Aurelia felt a sudden wave of disgust flood her, but she fought it back. She had known the truth from the moment she had been offered the choice: marry Lucius or die. There was no illusion of love here. No romance. Only survival.

"Just like me," she said bitterly, her eyes narrowing. "You needed my bloodline. I needed your power and protection."

Lucius’s eyes darkened slightly and he took a step toward her, closing the distance between them in a way that felt more predatory than protective. "We are not so different, are we?" His voice was softer now, tinged with something that felt like understanding—but whether it was real or just another layer of manipulation, she couldn’t tell.

Aurelia’s pulse quickened. She felt a strange mixture of irritation and something else—something she didn’t want to name—stir inside her. She had been in control of her emotions for so long, yet here he was, reminding her of everything she had tried to bury.

"Don’t mistake me for someone you can control, Lucius," she said, her voice suddenly cool and sharp. "I am not a prize to be claimed or a piece of property to be used. I may wear your crown, but I will never be your puppet."

Lucius didn’t flinch at her words. Instead, he stopped in front of her, his gaze locked on hers with that unnerving intensity. For a moment, there was silence, and the only sound in the room was the soft flicker of the candles.

"Who says you have to be?" he asked, his tone shifting again—this time with a flicker of something like respect, or perhaps understanding. "Maybe we don’t have to be anything to each other, Aurelia. Maybe we can just exist in this world, for whatever time we have left, without trying to change the other."

Aurelia swallowed, her chest tightening at his words. There was something in his eyes now that made her feel exposed, as if he could see through her carefully constructed walls.

For a moment, she considered saying something else—anything else—but she bit her lip and kept silent. She had no more words, no more energy to fight. This marriage, this empire—it was a cage, and they were both trapped inside it.

"Fine," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "We will exist. For as long as we must."

Lucius nodded, though his expression remained unreadable. He stepped back, giving her space, but the tension between them was still palpable, hanging thick in the air.

"I’ll leave you to rest," he said quietly, turning toward the door but before he could reach the threshold, Aurelia’s voice stopped him.

"Lucius," she said, her tone softer now, though no less guarded.

He paused, glancing back at her.

"For what it’s worth," she said, her words hesitant but true, "I don’t hate you. Not yet."

Lucius’s eyes flickered with something—maybe surprise, maybe something deeper—but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave her a short, almost imperceptible nod and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Aurelia stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where he had been, her thoughts a swirling mass of anger, confusion, and something she was too afraid to admit.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers curling around the fabric of her gown and let out a long, shuddering breath. In the Roman world of power and survival, love had no place. All she could do was endure.

And in the silence of the room, she realized that perhaps, in this strange marriage, endurance would be all they would ever have.

Flashback ~ Wedding Nights and Feasts

The grand hall of the imperial palace was alight with the glow of hundreds of candles, their flickering flames casting long shadows across the marble columns and golden tapestries. The air was thick with the sound of voices—nobles and senators, officials and soldiers—laughing, clinking goblets, and speaking in hushed tones of political matters, all the while pretending to enjoy the extravagance of the evening.

Aurelia sat at the center of the room, her back straight and her face a carefully composed mask of regal calm. The feast was elaborate, more lavish than any she had seen before, with tables laden with roasted meats, fresh fruits, pastries of all kinds, and goblets of wine that never seemed to empty. It was a celebration meant to mark the union of two powerful families, a political marriage cloaked in the facade of love and festivity.

Beside her, Geta sat in his place as Emperor, his posture rigid and his eyes scanning the room, his expression cool and detached. He rarely spoke to her, his lips pressed together in an unreadable line as he occasionally exchanged formal pleasantries with the dignitaries at his side. He did not look at her directly, but rather, his gaze seemed to skim over her, as though she were just another part of the evening’s decoration—a beautiful, silent accessory to a ceremony that had more to do with power than affection.

Aurelia shifted in her seat, the weight of her wedding gown pressing down on her shoulders. It felt heavier than she remembered, the delicate silk and embroidery stifling in the warmth of the hall. The wine, which she had sipped sparingly, made her head spin a little. The noise of the crowd seemed distant, like the murmur of waves crashing far away, while the tension in her chest built steadily. She wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but beside Geta, who barely acknowledged her presence.

She glanced up at him, and for the first time that evening, their eyes met. His gaze lingered for a moment—barely a second—but in that moment, she saw something flicker behind his dark eyes. A glimmer of something unreadable.

It was not affection, but perhaps it was acknowledgment. Or perhaps it was just the weight of the situation bearing down on them both. He was the heir to the throne, but he was also, in some ways, as much a prisoner as she was. Aurelia quickly looked away, not wanting to read too deeply into it. They were both bound by duty. Perhaps that was all they ever would be.

"Empress Aurelia, it is a pleasure to finally see you in a laurel wreath. It suits you well," came a voice, pulling her from her thoughts. It was one of the senators, his smile oily and too wide. He was leaning in, his wine-stained breath making her skin crawl.

"Thank you," she replied coolly, offering a tight smile, but her attention was drawn back to Geta. The way his mouth tightened when his twin entered the room, or how his gaze flitted from guest to guest, never settling on her. He was far more interested in the politics of the evening than in the woman at his side.

The moments dragged on, the sound of clinking cutlery and polite laughter filling the air as the night deepened. Aurelia’s stomach twisted with the knowledge that she would spend many more nights like this, forced to sit at the table, to smile, to pretend that this was her choice.

Her fingers, which had been tightly gripping the edge of her goblet, tightened around the stem, her nails digging into the delicate glass.

Geta, still barely acknowledging her, looked up then, catching her eyes once again. This time, there was a flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps curiosity, or even frustration. But whatever it was, it was gone in a heartbeat. He turned his attention back to the men beside him, a conversation about military matters beginning to unfold.

The night wore on with little change. The banquet was lavish, yes, but it felt more like a gilded cage. The guests praised her beauty, complimented her elegance, but they never asked her what she thought. No one cared for her opinions, her desires. It was all about marriage. It was all about power. Duty.

After what seemed like an eternity, the music began to swell, signaling the end of the feast and the start of the traditional dances.

Aurelia had no choice but to follow. She was led away from her seat by a servant, her movements stiff and controlled. She did not look at Geta as she passed him, but she knew he would be at her side for the next dance.

As they joined the throng of dancers in the center of the room, Aurelia caught a glimpse of Geta moving toward her. His movements were slow, calculated—his posture never changing, even as he took her hand in his. His fingers were firm, but not gentle. There was no warmth in his touch, only the cold certainty of what was expected of him.

The music swelled around them, and they began to dance. The movements were practiced, each step a part of a ritual that had been passed down through the generations. But even as they moved together, Aurelia couldn’t help but feel a sharp sense of isolation. She was surrounded by the thrumming beat of the music, the eyes of the court watching their every move, but there was no connection. Nothing to bridge the distance between them. She felt as though she were dancing with a stranger.

Geta’s gaze remained distant, his eyes fixed somewhere far beyond her, as if he were looking at the empire rather than his bride. He did not seem to care for the spectacle, for the performance. He danced because he had to—because it was expected of him.

Her chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat, but she swallowed it down. This was her life now. A life of duty and silence, of rituals and politics.

When the dance ended, Geta offered her a curt nod, his hand slipping from hers with no more warmth than when it had first touched her. He turned and walked away, lost in the swirl of the crowd, leaving Aurelia to stand alone at the center of the hall, her heart heavy with the weight of it all.

Hours later, the imperial palace had quieted. The last of the guests had been sent away, and the halls were still. Aurelia had changed out of her wedding gown, donning a simple silk robe that was far more comfortable than the heavy dress she had worn for the ceremony and the feast. She had been bathed and prepared by her attendants though she felt no sense of relief. The ceremony was over, but the reality of her marriage had just begun.

Her chambers were vast, opulent and yet it still felt hollow, as though the walls themselves were closing in on her. Aurelia sat at the edge of her bed, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on her shoulders. The soft light of the moon filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Enter," she called out, her voice steady despite the apprehension twisting in her gut.

The door creaked open, and there he stood: Geta, dressed in a simple night tunic, his expression absolutely unreadable. He glanced at her briefly before stepping inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Aurelia stood, her heart pounding in her chest. This was the moment. The moment that would define their marriage, the moment that would bind them together—at least, in the eyes of the empire.

Geta didn’t speak at first, his eyes scanning the room with an almost clinical detachment. It was as though this was just another political alliance, another transaction. Not a marriage. Not an intimate bond.

Transactional.

The emperor walked toward the bed, his movements deliberate, but not rushed. He removed his shoes and sat at the edge, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension.

Aurelia swallowed hard, her mouth dry. She stood across from him, her hands trembling as she clasped them in front of her.

"Is it... time?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the question feeling strange even to her.

Geta turned his head slightly to look at her, and for a fleeting moment, she saw something softer in his eyes. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the cold, distant look she had grown quickly accustomed to.

“It is,” he replied, his voice steady, but there was no warmth there.

Aurelia’s heart sank as she stepped toward him, the enormity of what was to come hanging between them like a weight. This was not the passionate union she had imagined. This was not love. This was duty.

Geta reached for her, his touch firm but unfeeling, pulling her toward him. There was no tenderness in the way his hands gripped her, no gentleness in the way he kissed her. His lips were cold, mechanical, as though he were performing a duty rather than seeking a bond.

And how she hoped it could be something. She already felt so lonely.

Aurelia closed her eyes, feeling the disconnect between them. The weight of their marriage, the distance between them, settled deeper in her chest. She didn’t feel loved. She felt like a pawn in a larger game that she had no control in.

She had no choice. She could not pull away. This was her life now. No love. Only duty.

Please the Emperor. Give him heirs. Serve at his side.

As Geta’s hands moved with practiced efficiency, Aurelia stood still, her body stiff and her mind elsewhere - somewhere by the seaside. She felt the sting of loneliness in the marriage bed, the ache of emptiness that nothing could fill.

And when it was done, when he withdrew and settled beside her, there was nothing.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

@ak4me, the statement is not wrong regardless of yours or my feelings about him. For a long time I enjoyed Garand Thumb's (Michael Jones) content but his self righteous tone always rubbed me the wrong way. Just because I don't like his tone doesn't make the statement incorrect. I cannot tell you how many 65"-69", 250-350 pound folks I have run into or run with that talk all that tactical shit, only to be utterly defeated by a plate carrier, a 2% up-hill grade (or a flight of stairs), and God forbid, A pro mask. Everyone of these folks is a future self-caused casualty. Everyone of them knows that their weight and lack of physical activity makes them a liability no matter how good they are from the shooting bench, few of them do anything about it. At best they will be a mobile resupply drop for those around them, at worst they will get other people killed when they can't hold their place in the team. I went from 175lbs to 230lbs after a disk fusion. I felt sorry for myself, I felt diminished in some way and I let myself go. I often joked on here that "If shit popped off today I'd make a good fixed gun emplacement." Last September, two things changed. I watched myself walking into the house on the security camera and I could not believe how freaking fat I was. 230 pounds of cardiac arrest waiting to happen. Then on 20 September the Doc gave me some long face news. The combination of those to realities woke me up. I will never be the nimble Jungle Fighter I once was. But, I do not have to settle for a self induced "fat pellet" death either. Since 22 September I have dropped 25 pounds. I am lighter than I have been in many years. I am still 35 pounds away from my goal but I am working my way there one step at a time. If you are in piss poor shape (mental and/or physical), I am, and you can shoot well, I do. You are no more effective in the fight, in your own self-defense than the dude who is in prime physical shape with a gun in their hand they do no know how to use. I'm not saying shoot roids, I'm not saying drop to 9% body fat. I am saying you should be able to do 3 to 5 second rushes in full gear and not stoke out. I'm saying that "Rules #1 and #18" of Zombieland are rules that will keep you in the fight for your life if it should ever happen. We don't need to be Adonis, but we should be able to do a flight of stairs without a "breather" 12 steps in.

[swan-orpheus]

I survived Valetine's Day at my job. Don't have to do that for another year! Whoooo! Tomorrow is Just Thursday. Thank f*&^%.

[stardust-moth]

In order to fully understand why it was so hard for Mike to express how deeply he loves El, and why his speech at the end of season 4 was one of the biggest, most important moments for his entire character, we need to look at not just who Mike is as a person, but also everything that has happened since he met her.

Every single time he opens up his heart to her, something horrible happens to her or she's taken away from him almost immediately afterwards.

1x08; he's an awkward little ball of feelings that are way too big for a boy so young. He makes a nervous attempt at confessing and asking her out on a date; when he can't find words that she'll understand, swoops in for a kiss instead. She lights up immediately and smiles. It's a brief moment of hope and pure happiness. Maybe they can have some semblance of a normal life and be normal kids after this is all over.

Minutes later, all hell breaks loose-- they're almost shot, El pushes herself too far until she can barely move, she's almost taken away by the Bad Men, the Demogorgon appears, and she uses the very last of her strength to sacrifice herself to save him and their friends.

He has to watch helplessly as she disappears.

He spends a year caught between believing she's dead and hoping she's still out there somewhere (but if she is alive then why won't she talk to him anymore...?). Kept silent under threat by the lab, he can't confide in anyone or even acknowledge her existence, not with anyone except those involved... but everyone else is keen on moving on and pretending it never happened. He can find some solidarity in Will, at least, who is in a similar kind of emotional turmoil... but it's not the same and it's not enough.

2x9; he is finally reunited with El, and she runs into his arms like she missed him too. She tells him that all those nights he called out to her, she heard him; she was there reciprocating his feelings the whole time.

In a burst of emotions that he's been forced to suppress for an entire year, he lashes out at the reason they've been kept apart (Hopper), screaming and sobbing. It's a massive catharsis for him, and for once an adult is understanding enough to hold him and not punish him for it.

Minutes later, she is going to go headfirst into a pit of monsters, the place where Mike had just firsthand witnessed dozens of people (if not more) get ripped to shreds only hours earlier, and she is going to attempt to close the Gate-- a feat that he knows may take every ounce of her power, just like last time. He cries. He can't lose her again. She promises he won't, and before she can seal that promise with a kiss, they're pulled apart again.

He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

3x1; all seems to be okay now. He and El are happily together, and he feels comfortable enough to be playful, romantic, and intimate with her. It's the most emotionally open we've ever seen Mike thus far.

For reasons he can't understand (bc there's no way Hopper explained himself beyond "I'm in charge so do as I say or else"), Hopper is angry about it and threatens to never allow him to see her again: the one thing he fears most.

He panics big time and fucks it up in the process by lying to her. During a frantic attempt to apologize while also abiding by Hopper's rules, he runs into her at the mall. He panics again-- if anyone finds her here, and knows that he was here too, it's all over, and Hopper surely won't hear reason. El dumps him cold on the spot, spurred on by Max and her rebellious attitude (and without any context of course). He isn't given much opportunity to respond. He knows he's in the wrong for lying to her, so what could he even say...?

He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

It's a hard blow, and he retreats back into himself, unable to get any joy out of playing D&D (which he clearly hasn't lost interest in), back to the deadpan sarcasm and accidentally snapping a little too harshly at anyone whom he feels would take El's place.

3x6; no one seems to understand the danger El is putting herself in. Everyone is berating him for worrying about her safety. He's seen firsthand what these monsters do to people, he's seen firsthand how El pushes her abilities too far. No one is listening.

The words "I love her and I can't lose her again" burst out in his desperation, perhaps before he's even had a chance to realize how deep those feelings run, despite whatever protective walls he's tried to build around his heart to keep it from getting broken again.

Soon after, all hell breaks loose. El is nearly killed several times over, her leg is ripped open, she pushes herself so hard that she breaks herself and loses her powers completely. Her father is taken from her. She's shattered by all of this, and there's absolutely nothing he could do or say to make it better.

She tells him that when he admitted he loves her, she heard him, and indeed she loves him, too... But now she's leaving.

He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

4x1; they've been apart for a few months, and write letters back and forth to each other. El's letters paint a picture of an ideal new life: she and the Byers family are doing well; she's starting school and it's going well; she's made new friends, she likes her new home, everything is going well. She seems to be thriving. She sounds happy, maybe even happier than she had been living in Hawkins. Maybe Max was right, maybe she's better off being her own person without him, and maybe the respectful thing to do is step back... It's a small insecurity that creeps up subconsciously. In his replies he holds back, afraid of clinging too hard.

Though there's little logic in it, he's afraid that if he tells her he loves her again, another disaster might strike and this lovely happy life she's finally found might get taken from her. After all, that's what always seems to happen when he does.

4x2; after months of waiting, they can finally see each other again. He wears her favorite colors, picks a handful of flowers for her, and falls happily back into step with how they used to be. Soon that same day, however, reality becomes clear and the facade crumbles. People he was told were her friends show up to torment and publicly humiliate her. She had been lying. She isn't happy here, she hasn't healed, she is right at the edge of a breaking point that he doesn't see coming at all. He can't believe she would lie to him, she's not the kind of person to lie... especially not about something like bullying, something that she was always so understanding about with him.

On that logicless subconscious level, he wonders if it's all his fault-- he should have known somehow, he should have been there for her. She protected him from his bullies, he should have protected her from hers. He tries to come to her rescue. She runs away from him.

He's helpless to save her, again.

4x3; after a night to process everything that happened-- and deciding that the betrayal he feels from her lying to him is nothing compared to the turmoil she must be going through right now-- Mike approaches her in the gentlest way possible, wanting to listen and trying to understand. El, however, isn't receptive at all to his attempts at reassurance. She is at an all-time low, she's given up. She believes she is unlovable, irredeemable, a monster, just a thing that doesn't even have those superhuman abilities to compensate anymore. Mike can't believe what he's hearing-- doesn't she know that she's always been so much more than her powers? She's always been so much more than what she lacks in quote-unquote "normalcy"... None of those things matter, they have absolutely no bearing on whether she's worthy of being loved, because he loves her, completely regardless of any of these things. He always has...

El starts flinging his restrained words back at him, the products of his insecurity and trauma-induced fear. That fear takes hold yet again, and he stumbles, afraid of saying too much or not enough, because surely both could result in pushing her away-- she's retreating, hearing none of it; nothing he tries to say consoles her.

Moments later, local police come knocking. She's taken away in cuffs, and she's so broken inside that she won't even look at him when he chases the police car down the street and promises he'll get her out somehow...

Once again, he has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

4x8/4x9; after days of driving through the heat and dryness of southwest desert, having narrowly escaped being shot at with military-grade assault rifles, witnessing the death of and burying a man whose last words were that El is in danger... After watching dozens of people get mowed down by a sniper in a helicopter, and watching that same helicopter be smashed into the ground in a ball of flames...

There she is. Just as powerful and beautiful and alive as she's ever been. When he runs to her and embraces her, she looks at him like she can't believe he's real. She's beaming a smile right from her soul and it's like all the insecurity and self-doubt that have plagued them both just vanish from existence now that they're in each other's arms again.

Like always, however, the universe comes crashing down soon after. Max is marked for a gruesome death and all of Hawkins is in danger. They're miles away and helpless, and the only possible way for El to save everyone is if she goes in alone. She's stronger than ever, but so is her foe. Once again, she descends to face all the demons of hell on her own, and Mike can't do anything.

She's losing. She's choking. She's dying. He's helpless.

He must be cursed. He must be. Being with her, loving her, allowing himself to admit he loves her, it always brings only pain and suffering and loss. His heart is so full that it's aching, it's bursting out of his chest, and he can't contain it any longer.

She's going to die and it's going to be all his fault, because he fell in love, and it's cursed her.

Just before it all crumbles into utter despair, the earnest support from his oldest and dearest friend-- one who's always shared and understood his feelings of helplessness-- sparks a light of hope in him: "You're the Heart." You're not helpless. You can save her.

The words that come spilling out of Mike's mouth are truer than any he's ever dared to speak before, and it's the most terrified he's ever been, but he has enough courage for this moment. Despite all of the fears that have been building, stifling, choking him to death for years-- fears that the light of his life will inevitably disappear again, and there's nothing he can do to stop it-- despite it all, he pours out his heart to her.

He loves her. He's always loved her. He loves everything she ever was, is, and could be. He can't imagine a world without her in it. She saved him, in every way a person can be saved. And he needs her to live. He believes in her.

And it works. It's music to her ears.

[bamsara]

are you actually cancelling the shipment of the new laptop or was that a joke?

It's a joke but. What if I did auuugh

Making big purchases like this give me anxiety to a heavy level because low key I feel like I'm wasting money and that I don't need it because Arson, even though he's clearly not meant to last a lot longer in that shell and is corrupting and losing files, is still booting up and therefore I feel like I've done this 'too early' and that I don't deserve to get the new pc

Like I KNOW I need it and it will help me immensely but. You know