#i want to be on the same level with someone. on the same level enough to be able to hate eachpther but take care of eachother

[girl4music]

What I think is really neat is the reason why Glinda picks on Elphaba isn’t because of her skin colour being green at all, but because Madam Morrible chose her over her.

She makes a pretence about it being about her skin colour because she doesn’t want it to reflect on her perceived failure at being special to Shiz enough that the Wizard would take the time to notice her the way he does with Elphaba for her magic abilities - and then as soon as they’re best friends - Glinda immediately just gives up that whole rouse and is just like: “actually, she deserves it over me” because - in her own way - Glinda feels outcast too and she compensates for it by being the most popular. But through their friendship, she learns to accept herself just as much as she learns to accept Elphaba. She learns to accept being no one special. Un-extraordinary. But instead a real support system to someone that is what she will never ever be.

She’s humbled by her experiences with Elphaba.

And it makes her a very beautiful person too. That’s the reason why her magic grows beyond her capacity for it.

Her magic is in healing, in supporting - in loving. But in order for her to reach this potential, she had to look beyond and outside of herself. Outside of her bubble.

In a sense: she can do so much for “the little people”when she doesn’t see herself as being above them.

What makes Glinda the Good is not her popularity or her vanity - but her need to relate to others for other’s sake. When her unconditional love for them is as bright and blinding as her physical beauty. This is her power.

In that scene where she tells Elphaba that she is beautiful just as she is, she glows in reflection too.

It’s because for seemingly the first time - she’s put inner beauty above outer beauty. It’s very attractive.

Elphaba teaches Glinda - without realizing it I have to add - that beauty is not skin deep. Beauty is within.

Glinda only becomes such a powerful force for Good because she’s learned to accept in herself what she once believed was not just as much as she has others.

Putting herself on the same level propelled her higher. It’s not because she already had that high position in her society. Likewise it’s not because anyone else was below her. She had to earn the right to be that high up by understanding what it took for someone to fall down.

That’s the overall message of WICKED.

It’s not about being Good or Evil.

But what it takes to get there.

And what is lost from it.

That’s why I love that it’s not a success story. It’s not supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a representation and reflection of hardship and failure and weakness.

But within that - how the attempt is still very notable when things are sent to try us, defame us, oppress us.

Stories like that are hard to come by because success/victory is just far more appealing and entertaining than the opposite is. But I’ve never been interested in what was appealing or entertaining. Only in what educates.

thinking about how the best case scenario that elphaba can imagine in the wizard and i is that finally someone will come along who will be able to change everything about her. even in her wildest dreams, she views that as her best option.

and then.

along comes galinda. who - after spending an entire night attempting to give her a makeover - settles on: ‘actually, you’re perfect just the way you are. i wouldn’t change a thing. except maybe to tuck a little piece of myself in with you, just there.’

and i just think that’s neat.

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 6.2k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ The sequel is here! I felt like I couldn’t continue the storyline without at least mentioning the complications of someone like Gojo having a kid. It’s inevitable that they’re going to have a high level of cursed energy, so I wanted to explore the idea of sorcerers trying to live outside of jujutsu society constraints while also still having to adhere to them.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The heat is on because it’s mid-winter and it’s finally gotten cold enough to snow, but somewhere in Gojo’s sprawling apartment a window is open. Not wide enough to cause a terrible draft–not that Gojo cares because he can afford to open all the windows while the heat is blasting at full tilt–but just enough to let in the smell of the crisp air outside. Gojo admittedly isn’t overly in tune with his sense of smell, all things considered. His strength is in his eyes so he’s never bothered to mull over the things that aren’t associated with his sight. He can’t exactly see the scent of frost and he can only smell it as well as any other person, but the window is open because he knows you like the smell of light snowfall. 

His staring problem comes with the territory, but, in the comfort of his own home, Gojo can’t really be faulted for looking too hard at any one thing. Especially not when his eyes are locked on his pretty girlfriend laid up on his couch. You’re curled up like a kitten in a nest, tucked into another one of his shirts and bundled beneath the giant fleece he bought because you’re always catching a random chill. It probably has something to do with low iron levels and leaving the window open in the winter. He briefly considers buying supplements but the thought is lost as soon as it forms when his eyes catch on the distracting length of your leg peeking out of the fuzzy blanket. It’s a wide expanse of bare skin that belies a lack of pants or at least anything beyond another pair of those damningly short shorts you love to wear around the house. There’s the fleeting thought that your aversion to longer pants might also be a contributing factor to your constant chill but he isn’t about to mention it. You’ve never had any qualms about going against things he says, but it’ll be just his luck that you actually decide to start wearing pants around the house and then where would he be? 

Infinity makes his footsteps imperceptible, especially with the adage of the downy carpet. There isn’t even a twitch of your lashes as he crouches in front of you, staring at your face half buried in the blanket before he reaches out to touch your leg. There’s no need for him to have his Infinity up in the house, but it’s habitual at this point, as easy as breathing. It’s the dropping it that always gives him pause. After going so many hours, day after day, never truly touching anything, it always feels like he’s relaxing a tense muscle when his barrier comes down. Not necessarily painful but palpable. The same way you can always smell when a storm is coming, Gojo can feel when his Infinity dissipates even though it’s intangible by nature. And once it’s gone he can feel everything. Hot or cold, the temperature never really matters because he’s always in his little bubble of body heat, but now he can feel the artificial rush of the vents pumping out waves of warm air and the slightest chill from the open window. 

Goosebumps rise over your skin as he traces his finger up the length of your leg. The jut of your ankle, the slope of your calf and the curve of your knee to settle over the softness of your thigh. You’re warm in a way that’s different from the blasting heat. Soft and comforting and Gojo tries not to dwell on what that might mean for his constant lack of physical contact. He drops his Infinity on occasion. Especially to interact with you or his students that are doing nothing but feeding into his desire for fatherhood, but it’s still few and far between. More often than not, Gojo is locked inside the untouchable barrier of his cursed technique. It’s not exactly loneliness that he’s feeling but some type of longing that makes him settle next to the couch so he can lay his cheek against your leg and just feel. His Six Eyes still tries to tell him things, outlining the shape of your body buried elusively beneath the blankets in a silhouette of cursed energy, but he closes his mind to it as best he can.  

It’s always been something unspoken between you; your level of cursed energy. You ended up a bit like Nanami, a bit like Suguru, turning your back on jujutsu for your own reasons. He’s never forced you to come back, never really even asked why you left because he doesn’t exactly care. All Gojo needs to know is that you’re happier with your life as it is, living as a non-sorcerer. He can’t really wrap his head around your love of working retail when it’s such a mixed bag of benign and volatile customers, annoying bosses, and ridiculous hours from what you tell him. But it’s leagues safer than fieldwork and Gojo isn’t about to be the one to coax you back into active duty. He barely tolerates when the higher ups call you in to do menial managerial tasks when the school is shorthanded. 

Their excuse for still keeping you on the payroll even after all these years always boils down to something about death being the only way a sorcerer ever really leaves the business. As if jujutsu society is some kind of yakuza holding members hostage. The people in charge act like sorcery is an inescapable cult and Gojo will be glad when he’s done tearing them down from the inside out. And as if you can sense him working himself up even in your sleep, Gojo watches your lashes pinch and flutter before a hand comes slinking out of your fuzzy cocoon to settle on his head. Your eyes are still closed but the momentary tension leaves your brow as soon as your fingers skim over his hair. No Infinity, only comfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” It’s always so instinctual the way you reach out to him. You always have an innate ability to tell when he’s falling and needs catching. Even just the sound of your voice, low and thickened with sleep, is enough to banish any worries from his mind. At least for the moment. 

“Nothing,” he says just to hear you mumble back “it’s something,” like you always do when he lies about what’s on his mind. It isn’t a matter of trust because Gojo trusts you with his life. He just doesn’t want to plague you with all the things he’s mulling over. It’s really only important to him. You’ve already declared your disinterest in sorcery, he’s not about to force you to listen to him formulating a plan to reform jujutsu society. And besides, he can’t have you worrying because it isn’t good to worry when you’re pregnant. Something about stress not being good for the baby. Sure, you aren’t pregnant yet, but he can see it coming in the near future. 

It’s not like he’s worn you down, you’ve always been way too steadfast to be bending to anyone’s whims. It’s more so just that it’s time. That ever constant “soon” looming closer and closer on the horizon. 

“Quit your job,” Gojo says, sounding every bit like a petulant child. Finally, your eyes open. Just barely, only enough to give him a hazily unimpressed look. 

“I know that’s not what you were thinking about.” He knows you know, but he also knows you won’t press him on it. Even when you were an active sorcerer, there were just some things you didn’t want to know about for plausible deniability’s sake. No need to get your hands dirty, especially now that you’re not even active anymore. Gojo’s strong enough to take on the consequences of his actions, strong enough to keep you safe from the fallout of his decisions. And anyway, he’s far more concerned with his personal life at the moment. What he does at work becomes virtually irrelevant the second he’s alone with you. 

“It’s what I’m thinking about now!” He’s whining because it’s really all he has on his mind now. The idea of coming home from a long day of work and being greeted by the pattering of little feet as your babies rush to meet him at the door. He imagines them all chubby cheeked and starry eyed, pushing to be the first one he hugs when he gets home. He’s annoyingly fixated on the thought and thumps his forehead against your thigh, knocking against you over and over until you’re fisting your fingers in his hair to keep him still. 

“You’re annoying.” You mean it but he can hear the endearment in your voice. And just to really get on your nerves, Gojo starts pouting. 

“I’m lonely.” It’s true in a way he doesn’t want to admit. Never mind the fact that he has his cheek pressed against your leg, arms wrapped tight around your thigh. There’s always been that nagging sense of loneliness. The looming feeling that something is missing. Children or something else, Gojo doesn’t know. But he does know that he wants babies. Your babies. Preferably sometime in the very near future if you’ll let him. 

“Lonely? Then what am I?” He feels you flex your leg as if to remind him that there’s no space for loneliness between his skin and yours. But there’s a hint of something in your voice, that heaviness of unspoken acknowledgment. You’ve known him for so long, been together for so many years. Some things don��t need to be said for you to know. It’s innate, intrinsic. And he loves you for it. You’re everything to him, but what he decides to say is,

“The mother of my children.” There’s desperation in his voice but Gojo doesn’t care to be embarrassed. He’s been stuck on this for most of your relationship and he isn’t about to get flustered asking for what he wants for the umpteenth time. You haven’t shamed him the first thousand times he’s asked so he isn’t expecting to get teased on attempted one thousand and one. 

“I’m not pregnant yet.” Gojo perks up. That’s new. The two of you have had this conversation in some variation at least once a week for months now and Gojo has grown used to all the answers you usually give him. It’s always something like “not yet,” or “let’s wait a little while longer.” And he does wait, but he’s also woefully impatient. Gojo knows you’re not pregnant and that’s the torture of it all. You’ve already said you’ll have his children. Kissed his forehead and reminded him that not now doesn’t mean not even whenever he gets particularly sulky after being told to be patient. It’s always just a matter of when but he’s eager for when to be now. And something about your answer makes him look at you with wide eyes. 

I’m not pregnant yet. It’s teasingly open-ended, like you’re taunting him with the knowledge that you’re not pregnant but you could be. But Gojo knows you wouldn’t tease him like that. Not about this. He’s always been a tad bit overzealous in his pursuit of babies but that’s because he wants it so bad, and he knows you wouldn’t be cruel enough to taunt him with it. He trails a hand up your thigh, dipping beneath the blanket as he maps out the curve of your hip. A shiver runs through your body as his fingers dip under the hem of your shorts. 

“Not pregnant… yet?” It’s hopeful. A question lingering in his tone. Is it time? Will today be the day? You smile, going back to petting his head, and that’s all the answer he needs. “You looking to change that, mama?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask again,” you tease. “Thought you kept track of my ovulation window.” You’ve been waiting? Gojo’s heart stutters in his chest. All he had to do was ask. It’s always been that way really. He’s been begging you for so long because he knew it was just a matter of asking when, but after so long of being told to wait a while it seems almost too good to be true hearing you say you’re ready now. 

“You better be serious.” He knows you are because you know how desperate he’s been for it, but he can’t help but want to hear you say it again. Hear you ask in so many words. He’s always begging and pleading and Gojo wants to hear you want it just as plainly as he does. 

“Don’t make me beg, Satoru.” It isn’t what he wants to hear but he scoops you and your blanket into his arms even still. He’s got all the time in the world to hear you ask for it and he’s not about to delay it any longer just because you want to play coy. He can see it in the way you’re biting at your lips trying to hide a smile, feel it in the way your arms wind around his neck. There’s a slight tremor to your hand as you run your fingertips up the column of his neck. He can almost hear the way your heartbeat has spiked, blood swelling with desire as he lays you down in his bed. It’ll be your bed soon because there’s no way he’s about to spend even a second more than necessary away from you. He’s been begging to get rid of your apartment for almost as long as he’s been wanting a baby, and Gojo is looking to have it all in one fell swoop. 

“Gonna have to move in with me, mama,” he reminds you. Marriage is a more amorphous thought. Really it’s just a piece of paper that will serve to complicate your lives. He’s the head of a clan and his wife will have certain expectations imposed upon her that he doesn’t want to wrestle with right now. Maybe later, when he’s made things better. But for now he’s happy just having you. You don’t have to be a Gojo just yet because you’re his regardless. You’re in his bed, wearing his clothes, wanting to have his baby. Gojo can’t put a bigger mark on you than that but he’ll sure as hell try as his mouth latches onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You make that same gasping sound you always do, a little shiver running through your body as your hands find his hair again. Your grip is tighter than before, pulling at the roots as he digs his teeth into your delicate skin. Usually he’d be more careful about where he’s putting his little love bites but he can’t bring himself to care right now, and you don’t seem to mind. 

“You gonna ask for it, mama? I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t ask for it properly.” As much as he’s been begging for it, Gojo won’t settle for anything less than hearing you tell him exactly what you want from him. All he’s been hearing is you telling him to wait, so he’s not giving you anything without explicit permission. Of course you take your time with that, too, and Gojo is more than happy to indulge you. It’s like running a marathon and finally seeing the finish line so close within reach. He can count the steps, the breaths, the heartbeats it will take until he crosses the line and finally, finally gets what he wants. It’s what you want too, or else you wouldn’t have said anything. It’s easy to provoke him when it comes to this and he hasn’t heard exactly what he wants yet, but he’s still keen to get you out of your clothes. And for all your smirking silence, you let him. Lifting your hips and arching your back as he strips you out of your clothes. 

For a moment, all he can do is savor the sight. His girl laid out on his bed, so close to asking for his child. You squeak when his nose presses into the space between your breasts, skin cold without his Infinity to regulate his temperature but he’ll be warm soon enough. Already he’s soaking in the heat pouring off your skin. You’re that fuzzy sort of warm that comes with the first waves of wakefulness, eyes still half-lidded and skin nearly feverish as he rubs his cheek against your bare chest. You smell nice. A perfect balance between his scent and your own, mingled together in a heady fragrance that has his tongue drawing wet streaks across your skin. He shivers as you thumb at the nape of his neck, brushing over the cropped hair at the back of his head because you can’t get enough of the feeling. Gojo is almost certain he’ll be just as insistent with touching your stomach when you start to show. 

He can already imagine how you’ll look. Only a few months pregnant, belly just starting to show. In his shirts you’d look the same as you always do. They hang so big off your frame that no one would be able to tell what was growing beneath it. But he’d know. And when you got bigger the whole world would know. Belly round and breasts heavy, whole body changing to accommodate the little life you made together. Gojo already can’t stay off you and he imagines your first pregnancy will shatter what little is left of his restraint. 

“You’ll tell me what I wanna hear, right, mama?” He murmurs against your stomach. He kisses around your naval, moving lower to dig his fingers into the thickness of your hips. You return the favor, running a hand through his hair until your grip tightens, pulling his eyes towards you. It sends a stinging twinge of pleasure down his spine, scalp prickling beneath your rough treatment as he stares up at you. He realizes you’re holding so tight because you need something to ground you. He can feel the way you’re squirming beneath his weight, hips shifting awkwardly as he pins you down with his bright blue gaze. Gojo has always been so open about wanting to start a family yet you can hardly articulate the words to ask him. It’s what you both want, but after so long saying no he can imagine how hard it is to fix your lips to say yes. It’ll be hard to collar him again once you let him off the leash. 

“Satoru,” he nearly melts at the sound of his name on your tongue. The way you say it with such sweet reverence. He can hear the affection in every syllable. “I want it.” It isn’t some heartfelt confession but it’s just as sincere, and Gojo hasn’t exactly been asking for it in the most romantic terms. You aren’t begging yet but it’s a start. A slow one compared to how feverish he’s been in his desire to get you pregnant but it’s enough for the moment. He can hear threads popping with how quickly he works to get your clothes off. It’s his shirt anyway and he has the money to buy you as many new sets of underwear that you want for nearly ripping your panties in half as he yanks them down your thighs. The poor lace is mangled as you kick it off your ankle but he doesn’t hear you complaining. In fact, you’re giggling. Laughing and smiling so pretty as he kisses your knee. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asks. You poke him square in the forehead as he looks up at you. 

“You are.” You’re still laughing. “You’re like a damn puppy.” It’s not the first time you’ve called him that but it makes him smile every time. He presses his grinning lips against your skin and smiles wider when you call him a weirdo as he licks the inside of your thigh. 

“Don’t complain now. In a few minutes you’re gonna want my tongue all over you.” His tone is joking but he watches the word land. The way you go quiet, nipping at your lip to hide your smile behind a shy pout. He can feel your thigh flexing as he rests his head against your leg, squirming at just the thought of him touching you. Gojo has regained some of his control, reigning in his eagerness so he doesn’t get overzealous. The last thing he’d want is to hurt you. He wants the conception of his first baby–all his babies–to be perfect. Even if it’s him that’s asking for it, it’s not really about him. It’s about you. Your body. You’re the one that’s going to be going through the woes of pregnancy, so the least Gojo can do is make the prelude feel good. He kisses your leg again, sinking his face into the soft skin, absolutely melting as he frames himself between your thighs.

There’s an ease to the way his arms hook behind your knees, pulling you down the bed until you’re flush against his face. The sound you make when his nose nudges at your clit has his head going hazy, empty to anything that isn’t you. Sleep still clings around the edges as you moan his name, a low hum that’s steeped in fading fatigue. He can feel your body rising to full consciousness, finally catching up with your mind as your legs shift along the curve of his shoulders. 

You’re still so warm, that sleepy heat lingering as your thighs close around his head the moment he wraps his lips around your clit. He’s only got his lips on you for a second and you’re already squirming, half trying to run away from his mouth. Gojo laughs, the sound rolling off his tongue to tease at your clit. You whine, pushing at his head even as your thighs pull him closer. He whines when you scramble far enough to get away from his mouth, glassy eyes staring up at you like you just slapped him across the face. There’s tears sparkling in your eyes as you look down at him, brows furrowed and lips caught between your teeth. Gojo leans in again, real slow like you won’t notice if he moves at a steady pace. You whimper and start squirming again the second his lips brush against your skin. He tries to be gentle, kissing over the swollen hood of your clit as his tongue parts your sticky lips. A faint, whimpered “wait!” falls from your lips and Gojo pulls away, forcing back a groan, trying not to look at the way your pussy is drooling on his sheets. 

He presses a kiss over the curve of your mound, doing anything to distract himself from thinking about where he really wants his mouth to be. The mess of your arousal is drying sticky on his lips, leaving glossy little prints as he kisses across your stomach. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” His voice is breathless, muffled against your chest as he crawls up your body. You’re still trying to pull him closer and push him away, thighs locked around his waist even as you knot a fist in his hair to pull him away from your pert little nipples. 

“Fucking tease,” he mumbles against your collarbone, void of any true malice. It would almost be amusing if he wasn’t nearly vibrating out of his skin with the strength it’s taking to restrain himself. 

He can’t help but grind against you when you pull him into a kiss. It’s a heated mess of tongue and teeth, barely passing for affection. It’s desperation on the cusp of frenzied aggression as he grinds against you, cursing at the barrier of fabric between you. You’re already clawing at his shirt and there’s no mistaking the sound as Gojo shreds the fabric to be closer to you. His pants are a bit harder to contend with, made infinitely more difficult with the way you’re all but fucking him through the fabric, legs locked so tight that he can barely inch his hand between you to shove the last piece of distance between you out of the way. He knows the moment you register his skin against yours. You’re babbling, close to tears as you whimper his name. It’s a broken mantra that sounds so sweet on your lips. He only gets his pants down to his knees before you’re shoving his hand out of the way. He nearly misses the determined mumble of “make it fit,” too focused on the way your hand feels wrapped around his dick. 

It snaps him back to focus for a second. Long enough to worry about you hurting yourself without his fingers to stretch you open first. But all thoughts melt from his mind the moment you guide his dick between your thighs. He can feel the last threads of his self control unwinding bit by bit as you clumsily guide him where you want him. It’s a messy drag up and down your slit before he catches against your entrance. He can feel how eager you are, clenching at his head as he grips at your hips to keep you still. 

“Just the tip,” he stutters even as you groan out your despair. “Be patient, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He still has the taste of you on the back of his tongue, that orgasm that you ruined for yourself. He can feel the way you’re still trying to pull him in closer, heels digging into the small of his back to no avail. Gojo is stronger than you. The strongest ever. And even when he’s on the cusp of coming–pitiful when he’s barely inside you–he can keep himself from giving into temptation if it means keeping you from harm. Even if you want it now, you’ll be cursing and whining about how sore you are later and he wants this to be a good memory. It’s messy and fast but he can still practically see the hearts in your eyes when he looks down at you. Then you smile and he knows he’s a goner. 

“I’m gonna come,” Gojo says without a shred of embarrassment. He’s long past that as he feels your pussy suck at the tip of his cock. He doesn’t go any deeper, still feeding you shallow thrusts as he goes over the edge. It’s a disappointment to watch the steaks of white spilling out of you when he pulls back, sticky threads still clinging between you. 

“Gotta keep it inside, mama,” he murmurs, already cleaning up the mess with his fingers. Your hand is on his shoulder the second he curls his fingers inside you. Pushing and pulling as your nails scratch across his skin. Only you can ever leave marks on him, only you can ever touch him like this. He gets drunk off the thought, balancing himself on his forearm as he presses his forehead against yours. Your face is wet, smeared with tears and spit and sweat. You look dewy in the lowlight, eyes glittering up at him. It’s muscle memory getting you to the edge. He knows just where to press, just how deep you need it. It’s so second nature that Gojo nearly forgets he’s got his fingers inside you until you shove your hand between your bodies, rubbing desperately at your neglected clit until your back is arching, pressing your chest against his. He can feel your heart fluttering behind your breasts as your nipples skim over his bare skin. 

When you finally sag against the sheets, coming down from the high, your hand slinks over his shoulder until you’re cupping his cheek. Gojo leans into the touch like it’s the last thing he’ll ever feel. 

“It’s time, Satoru,” you say, voice soft and breathless. “Let’s have a baby.” 

The sound he makes sounds pitifully desperate even to his own ears but Gojo can’t bring himself to stifle his voice. He only gets louder when he’s inside you again. An orgasm has you loosened enough to take him now, pulling him in with three deep strokes.

“Just like that, mama,” he murmurs. You’re less erratic now, far calmer after coming once already. “Not running now, are you?” You have the nerve to look bashful, looking away as he rubs his hands down your sides. It’s easy to guide you now, to get you to follow his rhythm as he bottoms out inside you with each thrust. There’s something so enamored about your eyes as you stare up at him. Dazed and half-lidded, full of adoration as you catch his arm where he’s holding your hips. The adoration that floods through him the moment he feels your thumb brushing against his wrist is enough to nearly choke him. Fuck, he wants to marry you. Wants you to be his in every way possible. But there’s still a thousand things he needs to do first. Things to make the world better for you and your baby. His eyes fall to your stomach, vision almost doubling from how hard he’s staring at your tummy. There’ll be a baby in there soon. His baby. Gojo feels himself getting close at the thought. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s a sound like music as you call his attention back to your face. Something you only say when his eyes are closed. He was lost in his dreams of the future. Of babies with his name and your face. 

“I’m here,” he assures you, panting the words against your parted lips in a messy imitation of a kiss. Words are spilled in a slurred litany between soaked mouths with no clear distinction between either whining voice. The sentiment is the same no matter which one of you is saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“What do you want?” Gojo feels himself murmuring. It’s a hushed mumbling that comes as the end of a long drawl of your name, so low that the syllables come out as graveled sounds against the edge of your ear. Still, you answer to the barest hint of his voice, back bowing off the bed like you’re drawn towards him like a flower to the sun. His arm fills the space, wrapping around your waist. He can feel the way you shiver on the cusp of falling over the edge, can hear it in your voice as you babble your answer of, “you, you, you, just you!” 

“My babies?” He can’t help but goad and tease even though he’s so deep inside you that there’s no question of what you want from him. Still, you answer. Clawing at his shoulders as you do. 

“Yes, Satoru! Your babies, only yours!” It lights something deep and possessive in his chest as he reaches a hand down to rub the shape of his name on your clit. It’s the best he can offer with no ring, no wedding. Writing his name on your skin, pressing his mark into every corner of your body until he can do it the right way. 

“My babies. My girl.” He sets his teeth against the skin of your throat, tasting the sweat as the sound of your voice vibrates across his tongue. There’s no mistake of what you want when you come. Your legs lock tight around him like he’d try to run from the way you’re milking his cock. Squeeze tight like you never want him to leave. He squeezes you tighter in turn, fingers pressed tight against the shivering column of your spine. He spells his name there too, tracing each muscle as they move under his fingertips. He feels your hands in his hair again, scratching at the back of his head. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with comfort–with you–and it’s enough to throw him headlong over the edge. 

When he tosses his head back, cursing towards the ceiling, your hand is still there to catch him. Brushing against the nape of his neck as your nose tucks up under his chin. He feels your lips wet and hot against the place his pulse is racing in his throat, and knows you can feel each whining pant of your name as it falls from his lips. It’s the only word he knows as his stomach flexes, ropes of come spilling inside you. So much that it starts to leak out in a dribbling mess. Gojo is quick to pull you up, struggling to his knees so he can keep his come where it needs to be. He’s still pulsing inside you, achy from the sensitivity as your walls squeeze around him. You start squirming as the high fades, wiggling in his hold and mumbling about “put me down.” 

Gojo hikes one of your legs higher, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Can’t, mama. Gotta keep it in or it won’t stick.” 

He placates you with another orgasm, thumbing at your clit until you’re whining and shivering. He can feel the dull pulses as it washes over you, clenching his dick as he softens inside you. You’re so warm that it feels like he’s melting but Gojo can’t suffer the thought of pulling out just yet. But he does finally let you down. He follows you as you sprawl across the rumpled bedding, resting his head against your chest. He nuzzles against your breast until you snap at him to quit it when he sneaks a nipple into his mouth. He pulls away with a pout, kissing across your chest because he can still feel the way your heart is hammering behind your ribs. Your skin is hot beneath his lips and tacky with sweat but he can feel the goosebumps starting to rise with each kiss. 

A car honks outside. The sound carries from down the hall where, somewhere in the apartment, a window is still open. A draft blows in through the half-open bedroom door. He’s not cold yet, but he can feel the shivers starting as you cling to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. He lets you pull him in, reveling in the closeness. 

“Puppy,” you mumble affectionately as he nuzzles closer. You press kisses to his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth. Places only you can touch. Even without his Infinity, people act like Gojo’s face–his eyes–are something beyond human. Sometimes he feels like something divine and untouchable but then your lips press softly against his eyelids and he’s suddenly just a man. A desperate, possessive man. He catches your mouth against his, licking at the seam of your lips until they part to let him taste your tongue against his. When he’s done he takes the liberty of licking a bead of sweat from your temple and you push him away, whining about him being gross. 

“S’not gross,” he pouts. “I love you.” He says it like an explanation. Like everything he does can trace back to the fact that he can’t breathe if he goes without touching you for too long. Tasting your sweat is one of the tamer things he’s done to prove his love. Sometimes Gojo wonders if you forget that he’d burn the world down for you. Then he remembers that he’s already doing it. For you, for your baby. For himself. His hand squeezes between your bodies to press against your stomach. Soon, he smiles at the thought. Now. 

“You should eat something, baby.” He hears you talking, hears the concern in that soft, satisfied tone, but you’re stroking his hair like you’d rather he fall asleep against your chest. 

“C’mon,” you say when he doesn’t move, patting where your nails left scratches across his shoulders. “I’ll make you food and then we can go again later.” Gojo chokes on his breath with how fast he’s trying to get his words out. “Calm down, baby, I know it takes more than once to make a baby.” 

Gojo watches you grab his shirt off the floor–the one he just took off, not the one you’d been wearing all day–tucking your nose into the collar as you waddle to the bathroom with your knees hugged tight to keep the mess he made from dripping on the carpet. Fuck, he wants to marry you. The look you give him when you come out of the en-suite, eyeing the way he’s tenting the sheets just thinking about his come spilling out of you does little to make him feel ashamed. He waits long enough for his body to calm down before he’s pulling on a pair of shorts and joining you in the kitchen. You’re bouncing around in front of the stove, making eggs even though it’s late in the evening. Gojo crosses his legs and tries not to imagine that you’re making breakfast before school, waiting for your oldest to finish getting dressed as you bounce your youngest on your hip. 

“You want pancakes?” He must nod because you start making batter. 

“You gotta move in with me,” Gojo reminds you, eyes watching the way your–his!–shirt hikes up every time you lift your arms too high, conspicuously checking for a peek of what’s hidden just beneath the black fabric. 

“My lease is up in like two weeks.” And just like with your teasing not pregnant yet, Gojo knows he has you. For good. Happiness suddenly smells like freshly fallen snow and maple syrup. 

[chanranghaeys]

🐸 “come here, hold my hand.”

request from my og @tusswrites! "come here, hold my hand.” “you’re washing the dishes.” “…i can do both…” with minghao? please i love this man and I’ll crumble if he says this to me 😭

pairing: minghao x gn!reader word count: 1k+ genre: fluff, slice of life (HELLO IT'S ME) rating: pg tags: pure fluff, physical touch as the love language, mundane stuff, household chores, request prompted washing the dishes so you will have washing the dishes, i try to make up a song warnings: none

a/n: finally found the random inspiration for this drabble that ended up with more than 1k words. purely self-indulgent. bear with me. as someone who always washes the dishes, i want this. bow.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Minghao is a strong believer in physical touch as a love language.

Popular media doesn’t showcase this all too well because of the image and concept that has been formed around him. Still, physical touch is the love language that remains superior in his opinion. This means being able to reach out to the other person and hold them in any manner, being in proximity to them to express how you feel, and being in the same room with each other regardless of what you are doing.

He says it’s about having something tangible to hold—tactile in his hand and palpable on his body—and how he appreciates having the people around him to physically ground his thoughts and dreams that can soar as high as the heavens allow. It reminds him that he doesn’t just have his rational mind anchoring him down but also something and someone to help make sense of things.

Minghao, contrary to popular belief then, is actually a very clingy person.

Words are not and will never be his strong suit. Yes, he can write. Yes, his words are like poetry, like water flowing through the rough in cascades of emotion, but they only come out when the cup is full. On a day-to-day basis, Minghao expresses his love which can be felt even through the slightest brush of hands.

This is a fact that you learned almost immediately.

He comes home, wordless, whether to his place or your place, and the first thing he does is go in for a hug. No matter where you are or what you are doing, he forces you to stop so he can hug you for who knows how long, deeply, fully, and wholeheartedly—not that half-assed wraparound from the side that people excuse for a hug.

It’s a habit he started during a particularly trying time in his life. He would pull you closer and engulf you in his arms, burying you in his scent as he buries himself in the crook of your neck or the crown of your head.

Naturally, during a particularly trying time in your life this time, you picked up his habit easily and did the same to him.

Scientific studies show that a 20-second hug is enough to release oxytocin that can lower stress levels and improve quality of life. Whatever the research says, you and Minghao do agree that this little practice has made your lives easier and more bearable than they used to be.

Recently though, you always end up missing each other at home. He would come home late nights and early mornings after schedules to find you sound asleep in your bed, while you would wake up a few hours later to his sleeping form recovering from the previous day’s demands. You’d come home one too many days to a space devoid of his comforting presence, and the same could be said for him.

It happens, you think. It’s absolutely normal. Being this busy just means that both your lives are taking a turn for the better, right?

But still, you miss him, despite coming home to each other every day. You miss the simple act of sharing your silence together and you miss the way his touches would simultaneously calm you down but also keep you on your toes.

Today, you couldn’t help but feel lonelier than usual as you set your jacket and bag down to be greeted by a dark apartment room. Based on his last message a few hours ago, Minghao was still in the studio practicing. He sent a selca with the other performance unit boys and you don’t deny how you stared at his sweaty hair and bare smiling face for a minute longer than you thought you did.

But you had a good day at work, where everything just worked out the way you wish every day would, and you absolutely will not let anything rain on your small moment of happiness. No, not even the mess of a room you left this morning and not the pile of dishes you didn't realize remained unwashed this morning.

So you turn on the speakers and press play on a song that has Minghao’s voice fill the empty space. It was one of his unreleased demos for his recent solo EP. It was a shame because this was your favorite from his endless roster of songs—a song where the lyrics talked about how the most mundane of moments could be the most special if you had your love’s hand to hold.

You started on the dishes and got lost in the process almost meditatively in the menial task. It was enough to startle you when you heard your name from behind you. You see him in fresh clothes and slightly damp hair, a clean scent emanating from his presence.

“When did you get home?” You asked in reply to your most favorite voice in the world.

“Just now,” Minghao instinctively reached out to latch onto your waist, easily letting your gravity pull him to you in your natural ritual of finding purchase in each other's nooks and crannies. As if you were two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly, he molds his body against yours with his chest flush to your back and his hands folding on the flat of your stomach.

He breathed in your scent and you felt his smile against your temple. Instantaneously, you relax against his touch as he says against your ear, “I missed you.”

You turn to find his lips, softly pressing yours against them and repeating his words to him. With a smile, you continue your reply with a melody to your voice. “Come here, hold my hand.”

You feel his chuckles with his cheek pressed on yours when he says, “But you’re washing the dishes.”

“I can do both.”

So he does, intertwining one of his hands with yours—albeit awkwardly—and helping you finish the chore in front of you. His soft giggles mingle with yours as you two find a rhythm to washing the dishes among four working hands.

You two stay in this position for a while with the song still playing in the background, the lyrics resounding as you sway in time with the rhythm.

“Come here, hold my hand, pull me in, and let me orbit around your gravity…”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: still from my little drabble request game and still accepting requests! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3

[sprites4ever]

First, I need to clarify that I am not against the right to bear arms. Unlike the dictator that Right-wingers stereotype me as, I am actually fond of freedom and democracy and believe that the populace must indeed be able to arm itself, in order to create a balance of force with the government.

Gun control, as I define it and which I call for, does not mean taking away all the people's guns. I merely want existing firearms regulations concerning license issue and checks, acquisition of guns and ammunition, storage of guns at home etc. to be properly enforced in the United States. Factually, these laws are currently not properly enforced and it is far too easy to acquire, store and use guns illegally.

The common argument against that is something along the lines of "Laws don't stop criminals bent on breaking them." This is only half true. Yes, someone who has legally acquired an assault rifle, but gone insane and decided to massacre a school later, will not be concerned by laws. However, if those existing laws are properly enforced, police can, for example, confiscate the guns of someone who doesn't abide by them.

One may rebut this with my own statement, that people should be able to bear arms to balance out the government's power, but I couple my desire for proper enforcement of gun laws with a desire for weeding out corruption in the American police. As long as the United States' stupidly corrupt police forces aren't cleansed of their extreme corruption, such a directive for proper enforcement of gun laws would indeed make things worse and, if anything, lead to more gun violence as legal gun owners would probably get into shootouts with corrupt police who want to take their guns without a legal basis.

Btw, since when were guns a top issue for voters in the 2024 Presidential Election? They weren't. It was mostly economy and immigration. And because you maniac Republicans actually chose Hitler 2 over the relatively small scratch on your collective ego that four years of Harris would have been, it's the Democrats who are now fearing for their lives, buying guns. And you know that soon enough, Trump will find a way to arm his supporters while disarming his opposition. He's a fascist, after all.

TL;DR: I don't want more gun control, I want both properly enforced gun control and less corrupt law enforcement.

Yes, this text is copy-pasted, FROM MYSELF. Since I've had to repeat the same arguments to different people in this discussion multiple times, I just took the time to word my arguments in the most elaborate way possible, so I can copy-paste them instead of constantly rewriting the same stuff. In rewriting the same stuff over and over again, I previously also made an ass of myself when I didn't thoroughly think my replies through before sending them, and instead stooped to the level of people who personally insulted me for having an opinion they dislike.

Here's an Example as to why Donald Trump is fascist

Donald Trump wants Concealed Carry Reciprocity.

What is that?

In the United States, it is not automatically legal to carry a firearm in a concealed manner just because one has a firearms license. One needs to obtain a special additional permission to do so. Like most things in the United States, Concealed Carry is decided on a state-by-state basis, meaning a person's permission for Concealed Carry only applies in the state it in which it was issued.

Concealed Carry Reciprocity is the legal concept that a permission for Concealed Carry, issued in any state, applies in all states. So, if a gun owner was permitted to Concealed Carry in Oklahoma, he can currently only do so in Oklahoma. Doing it in any other state is a crime. Under Concealed Carry Reciprocity, it would not be.

What does Donald Trump intend with this?

Donald Trump knows that his most loyal followers live in deep red states, which also have the highest concentrations of gun owners. Due to the high concentrations and due to Republicans being generally against gun control, it is likelier that more gun owners in red states have Concealed Carry permission. Donald Trump wants to allow people to Concealed Carry in any state if they've received permission in one, because he knows that most people who will take advantage of this will be his most loyal followers.

Donald Trump plans to lay the groundwork for his version of Mussolini's Blackshirts and Hitler's Brownshirts, his own paramilitary force of loyal followers who are ready to attack and murder fellow citizens in open daylight for their political positions that oppose their idol. Concealed Carry Reciprocity makes it easier for them to do this.

This is fascism.

[bigassmoth]

Sho frowned as he watched Leo tap furiously at his screen.

"Dude....eat your fuckin food." The plate of ultra-hot chili ramen was getting cold in the table.

"Yeah, whatever." Leo rolled his eyes and huffed, sending his tweet and then slapping his phone down. He ate angrily while Sho regarded him with a rasied eyebrow.

"The fucks wrong with you?"

Leo looked at Sho with annoyance and slurped his noodles.

"That NPC is the problem. Ever since I made that post calling them my girlfriend, followers have been bitching."

"Isnt that what you wanted? A few days ago you were laughing about it." Sho starts cleaning after confirming that the dish meets Leos impractical level of spice.

"It -was- funny but now it's just annoying. Everyone keeps calling them a Basic Bitch or an NPC, its every other comment. So unoriginal."

"That's what you call the honor student all the tim-"

"And when it's not regurgitating the same stupid one-liner, it's moaning about how someone else would be such a better fit."

Leo steamrolled Sho's comment and then picked up his phone with a scoff.

"See? Listen to this, "She is too boring for you Leo, you would be such a better match with Anastasia" as if that Kardashian copying nepobaby is half as interesting." Leo reads the text aloud before scooping more noodles into his mouth.

"Is that the blogger that keeps getting a new baby animal every few years?" Sho puts his freshly cleaned knives onto the magnetic board you talked him into getting to save on space.

"Yeah, she keeps hopping on trends. She ditched the Italian Greyhound and got a micro husky- whatever the fuck that is." Leo slathers a piece of his pork belly in sriracha before popping it into his mouth.

A new voice joins the discussion as you pass by Leos table.

"That sounds unethical. Hey Sho I know it's late, do you have anything you could whip up for me?" You peer up at Sho as you lean against the truck. The dark circles under your eyes and your unkempt hair say enough- you just got back from another mission.

"Hm...sure I think I have something I can whip together. But dont get mad at me if it doesnt turn out." Sho easily relents and begins rummaging through his fridge.

"Youre cooking is always good, thats why I can never get mad at anything you do." You tease back- it was no secret that food was the way to your heart. You had a wealth of patience for anyone who offered you snacks.

Leo grew tired of listening and scoffed.

"Did you get so tired of flirting with that musclehead so you had to move onto a guy in love with his motorcycle?"

"Shut up man." Sho responds automatically. You sit down across from Leo.

"I also love Bonnie." You say matter-of-facrly while resting your head on your arms.

"Gross." Leo rolls his eyes and aims his phone at you. He takes a couple pictures, decides on one that is decidedly your worst angle in the worst lighting. His snickering makes you open your eyes.

"What did you do?" You are annoyed when you speak to him and lacking the familiarity that you hold for Sho.

"Just want the internet to know my relationship with my girlfriend is going well." Leo shows you his recent post with a sly grin.

Having learned better, and too tired to care, you dont bother reading it and once again shut your eyes.

"As long as you arent trying to extort Tohma-senpai again." You sigh.

From inside the truck while he heats up your food, Sho opens his phone to view the post.

Your picture is editted with several heart emoties with a caption reading "Best Girlfriend Ever<3 She ordered 23,456 yen worth of food but forgot her wallet, shes so silly!" The comments are already scalding as they tear into your character. Sho peeks out to see Leo smugly scrolling through the comments before he reaches out and pats your hair.

"Ah, NPC-chan youre such good rage bait~" he coos.

"Youre welcome." You sigh out. Sho snorts as he brings you a bowl of ramen. In a short amount of time you had adjusted to Leo miraculously. Typically this unbothered attitude would bother the chic influencer but without realizing it he had become endeared to your attitude. The two sat with you and chatted as you ate your food. Sho eventually kicking Leo when he tried to get a picture of you eating.

edit: part 2

[lost-in-fandoms]

hi esi! for writing game:

maxiel + 53 bc I remember your amazing wingfics!

From here: Wings/supernatural body features. Hello!! <3 and thank you <3 This is set in the same wingfic universe, right after the last thing I wrote I guess and the same cw apply: unsafe and painful wing care practices.

"You should sit."

Daniel points at the pillow he had set on the floor as soon as Max steps into his room, a belligerent frown still on his face, shoulders curling in, protective.

Daniel can't see his wings, which means that Max has bound them again, after keeping them away for the whole day. It makes him want to cry, cluck at him and fuss like he's just a fledgling, but he doesn't want to spook Max. Or at least, spook him more than he already as.

"I clean them," Max snaps mutinously, going to cross his arms, but immediately aborting the movement with a barely suppressed wince.

He's hurting and he still bound his wings again. Daniel is going to kill someone. A very specific someone.

"I know you do, Max," he says, swallowing his anger like a too big gulp of protein shake, trying to keep his voice soft and level. He knows the fear that hides behind Max's facade.

"Sometimes though, it's not enough to just wash them. You have to actually preen your wings, to keep them healthy, and it's easier to let someone else do it for you."

"I'm healthy!" Max argues, as if he's not standing there, literally unable to do full movements because of how he's treating his wings on the daily. If he didn't think it would get him punched, Daniel would laugh.

"Yeah, but you can be healthier. It would probably make it easier in the car, too, if you could raise both your arms at the same time."

He means it as a joke, but Max seems to take it as a challenge, because he immediately raises his arms above his head, face stony, only betraying his pain with the way he bites his lower lip until it goes white.

Daniel rushes forward, cursing himself internally, and forcing him to lower them again.

"Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

He knows it's the wrong thing to say as soon as it's out of his mouth. Max flinches back, lowering his eyes, shoulders curling even more inwards.

"Fuck you," he spits, voice trembling. Daniel is an idiot.

"No, Max, fuck..." he sighs, dragging a hand over his face and breathing deeply. "I'm sorry."

Max freezes, eyes darting up to look at Daniel's face before snapping down again, tension and confusion hanging around him like a cloud.

"Let's try again, alright? Just listen to me," Daniel says, dredging up all his patience.

Max nods, a tiny movement, fingers tangled up in the hem of his hoodie in what looks like an attempt to keep them from shaking.

"I am not judging you, but I think you would benefit from me preening your wings. If you hate it, or if you want to stop at any time, you'll be free to leave and never do it again. Does that sound okay?"

Max takes his time to consider it, long moments in which Daniel feels his heart beating too fast in his chest, but then nods again.

And then, without any further discussion, he takes off his hoodie and drops down on the pillow.

It makes Daniel's breath stutter, to have such faith put on his hands, almost as much as it makes his heart ache to see how tightly Max's poor wings are bound.

He knows this is his only chance. If he fucks this up, Max's wings will probably never be taken care of again.

He takes a breath, grabs the cloths he had taken out while waiting for Max, and then sits on the small couch behind Max.

Game on.

[worrynoodle]

🥧🍻Contains spoilers for Supernatural ending🍻🥧

I take what I said about the ending back. I've been rewatching and I agree that it wasn't right.

Throughout the entire series, we consistently see Sam and Dean encounter other hunters who usually represent two paths. In this life, you die or go insane ("You either die a hero or you live long enough to become a villain" -The Dark Knight). And of the two options, Sam and Dean seem to have decided that dying is at least better than potentially hurting someone. Neither of them actually believe that because they keep bringing each other back.

But this post is mostly about Dean's ending - death, in the line of duty, by rusty rebar.

During my first watchthrough, I could see - very surface level - that yeah, sure, Dean would want to die that way. Going out saving people, Sammy at his side.

But almost every other time (if not every time) Dean is faced with his own death, he decides he doesn't actually want that. He feels he must. He dies so others can live, that's his job, it's expected. But he would live if he could. When he made the demon deal to get Sam back, he confronts his nightmare self and says he doesn't want to die. He doesn't deserve to die. With the mark of Cain, in the confession booth he tells the priest that he knows he doesn't want to die and that he wants to live and experience life differently.

Dean wants to break away from the expectation that hunters die. Maybe he can't have a "normal" life. But he wants something other than what's expected of him. What God expected of him.

This was supposed to be Team Free Will. This was supposed to be about breaking away from God's Plan. Not dying like the little soldier daddy raised him to be but to become more than that. Break away from the narrative.

In the end, though, Dean is forced to have the death that everyone else planned for him. The self-sacrificing version of himself, other hunters, his dad, God. All the people we as the audience wanted Dean to be free of, to live in spite of - he dies like daddy's blunt little instrument. Cas sacrificed himself to the empty, finding peace in the face of never seeing the love of his existence again, in the face of literal eternal nothingness so that Dean could live and be more than [Dean] thought he could be. He was happy to sacrifice his happiness for Dean's. Just for Dean's life to be cut short the same way Cas died to avoid. (Death because of the work. Death like a soldier in battle.)

All of the times Dean and Sam (and Cas) die and come back to life, all of the people they find who live happily, the family they find together, the love they find, defeating literal God - it all felt like it was building to something more substantial. That they BOTH (*) were going to get something more than they expected - or, rather, resigned themselves to.

And on Sam's end - throughout the show, they show us, surface level and parallel to deans death, that him living a "normal" life without dean is what is expected. He left the life. He left Dad and Dean, went to college, had goals and aspirations, and had a serious girlfriend. His life was laid out for him. Just like death was laid out for Dean. But when push comes to shove, Sam doesn't want to live without Dean. Even when Sam thinks he can do it, like when Dean goes to purgatory, he comes the moment Dean calls and gets back into the life. When Dean dies from the mark, he says so. He was wrong, and he'll do anything to get Dean back. Everybody asks him why he would ever come back when was almost out and he tells them that he actually loves this life. That now he isn't forced into it but chooses it. He doesn't want a life without his brother in it. And that is what he was doomed to suffer. By the end of the series, I don't think Sam would have just let go like that.

Chuck said one brother had to kill the other. In other words, one lives, one dies. And that's what happened.

*I wasnt going to but now I am. Let's talk about Cas too! Through the show Cas dies again and again and again. God hates the disobedient angel with a crack in his chassis who fell in love with a man. God kills him. God wants him out of the picture but he won't go. He can't go. The story falls apart without him in it. Dean falls apart without him. But somehow his death is considered a good ending for him (good story telling wise, externally)? That confessing his love was enough? That dying in place of Dean was where he wanted to be? Sure, he was happy but it came at the price of that very happiness. It was had and taken in a moment. He was destined to die by God and that's what happened. (And we are supposed to believe that Dean just... lives on, cuddlin his dog and eatin' pie like he's not wrecked? That every other time Cas dies he falls apart but this time when Cas dies, they defeat God and true happiness is supposedly possible now - Dean would just give up? That he wouldn't try to get him back? Especially after a love confession? That just doesn't make sense to me.

My theory is that there's more to the ending than we know. That they did intentionally wrap it up there, that you can take it or leave it. But it leaves you wanting, leaves just enough questions unanswered that if they were to do a revival there's things they can do with the story.

Tl:dr: for a show about breaking away from the narrative, choosing free will, and not being held back by expectations, the ending really didn't fit well and let us down. IN MY PERSONAL OPINION

[d-oie]

well since she blocked me after begging me for a reply i'll write my reply here, im sure her defenders will send her a ss of what i said. first the comment :3

no one is hating on you nor is anyone saying youre not creative, ive said multiple times that i use to defend you myself and that i love your moodboards.. the original ones that is. i think you're a very talented person liia, but that doesn't take away from the fact you stole/copied/were heavily inspired. this whole thing was blown way out of proportion, you pretend you did these things like finding the images online and somehow it looks the same as someone elses saying that its just inspo but that is NOT what inspo is, ive seen you tag creators like n-americano when you're inspired by them, but what about these? and what about the images you take from others moodboards and have "images edited by me" in your moodboards knowing some arent, if you can credit yourself you can credit others. my post wasn't to turn the whole world against you nor was it to make you seem like a bad person, if thats how people interpreted it then so be it, i have an actual life and don't care if a bunch of people attack me online when i can just power off my device. my main objective was to wake you up. to make YOU realize you're in the wrong, sure it was also to bring light to the situation and let the creators you copied see what you were doing which I dont think is wrong. this whole thing couldve been avoided if you were apologetic, if you just said "hey, i see how these moodboards look very similar along with some of my others, i apologize and this will never happen again." instead you and many others dragged it. i was genuinely willing to hear you out and talk to you in dms but since you blocked me i can't.

my response to your dm

you never clarified you didn't steal from others, those past accusations never came with evidence so you could have easily brushed it off, you saying that you were just inspired and that these images don't belong to anyone isn't what your situation is, inspiration doesn't compare to what you're doing, what youre doing is plain plagiarism. you want to sit here and tell me "i didnt mean to copy" when i can clearly see y-unjins moodboard in yours. i tried to give you my respect since i'm also a "content creator" but you keep giving the same excuse when you know youre in the wrong, then you assume i want to start drama like i live on it, sweetie no, not everything is to attack you, if someone believes you've done wrong and you're not taking accountability for your actions you will be called out. why should i turn a blind eye when i know the hard work someone went through in order to make their moodboard just for you to take the images? im not saying its illegal for people to use one or two of the same images from another moodboard but youre on a whole new level, you're mad i'm posting about this but imagine the creator's you've stolen from. the thing im mostly confused about is why, why would u steal from others creators when one, youve been called out for this before, and two, you're moodboards and dividers are beautiful, so you have no reason to steal from others when YOU yourself dont want people to steal from you and you have your own form of creativity. and again its you talking about how "if taking inspo is copying then everyone would be copying" ... like do you not understand the situation youre in? you know youre in the wrong and this trash ass excuse aint getting you nowhere.

im not even gonna go in on this, if you cant reply to your ask truthfully why would you reply to my dm truthfully? if you were mature enough to admit your wrongs instead of going on a whole rant about why your friends hate you then this post would have never existed. how hard is it to admit your wrongs and start anew? i get it, everyone makes mistakes, but everyone can always own up to and fix their own mistakes.

i guess im evil for bringing the truth to light, if this were to happen to me ID OWN UP TO MY MISTAKES. yes taking inspo isnt bad but if it gets to the point i get called out for copying when i personally believe i was just being inspired by others id apologize and see what i can do differently, since ya know, im at that point in life where i can admit my wrongs, you on the other hand did not do so and tried to pretend it wasnt an exact replica. my post wasnt to bring hate or spit on your name, if anyone sent you aggressive comments then you have the action to report or block them, i cant control what people say, damn i can rarely control what i say, and i dont know where youre getting the idea that i hate you when i never once said that and i actually said this not only once, not twice, not thrice, but multiple times that i use to respect you, you were one of many creators that i would defend with my life, you use to inspire me, now i feel nothing, just disappointment which is what a lot of people feel, that doesn't give you the right to guilt-trip your mutuals, like what your "defender" said, moots are like real friends, once you lose their trust its hard to gain it back, if you really cared you wouldn't have allowed this to get blow way out of proportion and would have just admitted your wrongs, hell when you dmed your entire following list you should have explained the situation to them rather than trying to make them feel bad for how THEY feel about the situation. then you have the audacity to say "dare to tell me to my face rather than being a coward" as if youre not one? you escalated the situation, youre the one who's been sitting on your ass feining for my reply, crying to your moots how they're bad friends for believing this even though theres full blown evidence. im not a coward, i had the balls to post this knowing you'd see it, you're acting as if i was leaving you in the dark, like i didnt think you would ever see this post, like i was plotting on your downfall behind a secret account. "think before acting" how about you follow your own advice before trying to give advice to others. thanks.

i didnt want this to go this far, i believed that once i posted this you would admit your mistakes and change for the better, i didnt unfollow you because i wanted to see you continue to grow and continue to be the amazing creator you are without the copying, but i guess that was just a fairytale and i have to face the reality of randos on the internet not being able to take accountability.

Hi guys, it's come to my attention that someone in the moodboard community known as lil-liaa has been copying / taking heavy "inspo" from other creators like @y-unjins and @iluvrei view more for more info + evidence + my opinions on the whole situation

before i start, i'm not trying to run lil-liaa off the platform nor am i trying to stur up drama, this is just to bring light to the situation as not many people know and many people (including myself) defended her when this first happened, i also want liia to realize that what she's doing isn't right and that she shouldn't just brush off "accusations" like these when there is evidence.

proofs

you can see the similarities as lil-liaa used 3 of the exact same pics as iluvrei's including one edited by the original creator without adding credits to the post.

2nd

here you can instantly tell that the moodboard was copied (lil-liaas on the right being an exact replica of y-unjins), only changing 2 pics excluding the idol change and

3rd / last

lastly, you can see how one lia used the exact same divider (+ didnt give creds), two she uses the same images not only in the moodboard but also in her gif (same pics from y-unjins moodboard including the png)

now, lil-liaa was sent multiple anonymous ask from last year and one recently accusing her of stealing moodboards, although a lot of people defended her last year including me due to the ask having no sorts of proof of moodboards being stolen and no one else speaking on it but now the recent ask she has received included proof and her response to it was very (in my opinion) rude and just sounded like she didn't care.

in my opinion, i don't believe this was just a draft she had premade and i don't believe she somehow got the same exact photos from y-unjins moodboard recommended, i believe since this isnt the first accusation and now there's proof of this i believe she has been copying moodboards since last year when she was accused. i don't believe lil-liaa cares about this, the fact she's stealing from other creators and when she gets called out for it she pushes it off with the same excuses

tags

@miujo @rkkuri @lvioung @ciestial @aeraras @sugarish @gyareii @i-kyujin @daddldee @i-mmaculatus @haerinism @chaeryeos @bloomqi @h-yeoni @p-oisn @bitchey @yeritos @yonkiibums @y-vna @y-urios @fairytopea @shuaver @yeoniis

[shokveyv]

sari did not "choose" anything. you wrote her to choose sentinel, wrote her to be 25, and claimed that "making people uncomfortable is okay in writing." but then also try to claim that this is Japanese culture.

okay, well not all of your followers are Japanese and they don't have to be okay with seeing sari, an 8 year old upgraded to teenager, as said by her dad, now suddenly with a grown up alien robot.

You're free to draw what you want and write what you want. and if you post it publicly, people are allowed to have their public say. that first anon explained it perfectly and I have no idea how you could not understand what they meant when they said "if you knew someone since they were a baby or toddler, and then decided to date them the moment they were of age [18 in the states] , that is predatory, as in creepy, as in WRONG, you are predatory, as in creepy, as in WRONG.

no one in the States would or should find the idea of GROOMING as part of someone's culture. it doesn't matter if sentinel did or didn't remember sari.

again, draw what you want, but dont compare people being uncomfortable with your choice in taboo art as being like your mother. her issues with you are their own and your viewer's discomfort is NOT on the same level.

i really liked your art, but if this is how you will be when being told this sort of stuff makes people uneasy, then block and block and block. it is your account after all. and don't try to guilt trip people, that doesn't do anything but make your victim card expire. you're an adult drawing weird stuff. if you wanna own it, own it. don't pull the "I've been gone for 5 years, almost hurt myself and my mom gave me a hard time." its not fair you went through that but only bringing it up again NOW makes you look like you're farming for sympathy cause you drew an aged up version of sari dating a full grown mech.

She chose to based on the character development she was given. A writer understands this. Writing is uncomfortable. Otherwise why would you be question sari but not Tailgate, a literal child, being married to Cyclonus? You not question JRO? This is an edit: I have learned it is not a literal Child, he is only mind of a child behaviour.

Please curb your racism.

Sentinel didn't decide to date Sari moment she is 18. He did not know it was Sari and did not know his age. Why do you extrapolate "he waits knowingly until she is 18 to date"? that is you being malicious intentionally. She wasn't groomed. He didn't have contact with her at all xD You're being intentionally malicious and misleading! If you wish to debate you must have sensible argument not fake ones to lie to the audience. What are you talking about taboo mother????

If you cannot understand that sometimes there is writing that makes you unhappy and it's okay to be unhappy without the harassment of source, you are not mature enough to be reading my content, not mature enough to be on the internet. Grow up and stop being so racist and intentionally misleading!

Post-edit: Translator Alice here. She means that Sentinel has not seen Sari since last he saw her in the series. Sentinel doesn't recognize Sari as Sari when he sees her ala Cybertronian bibliotecaria. He never had a romantic interest in her as a child and was not waiting for her to become "of age" to date her. 20 years old is an important coming-of-age in Japan, so Sari being 18 at this point would have no significance to her dating-wise, unlike in America, where the age of 18 is significant. Nowhere did she say that he was waiting for her to become legal. That is something that was insinuated by the viewers.

[zkylearnstherope]

Victim [An Analysis] Finale + Theories

Part 1 - Part 2 - [Part 3]

Alright, here's the finale. There are some stuff I forgot to mention in the first two parts, and some corrections too. A few analysis from Wanted, and I am also including theories at the end as well.

Thank you for @d8tl55c for pointing it out.

That map was of Newgrounds, not the Outernet, which was I initially thought. There are two more texts at the bottom of it, and one was also highlighted in yellow, but it's two blurry to read.

The sticks around vic knows where the PCs are. But this doesn't explain how Purple has his own human. Purple can move from the Mac, to Minecraft, to the Outernet. And King was also able to buy a Minecraft item too. Is the Outernet more easily accessible that we initially thought?

Another thing I want to point out is that I don't think The Salad cares much about the Outernet. They have never expressed interest in finding out where King lives, nor did they explore the area after Showdown. Finding the city in The Box didn't even surprise them a bit, nor seeing more sticks like them. They know it's there, but they just don't care about it that much.

So, even if Second finds out about what Dark and Chosen did, I don't think he would align himself with vic, to be honest. He'll just go back to ALANSPC.

The building in Wanted exploded because Chosen hit the glitch bullet with a fireblast. Yes, he also has fireblast. Although, I will admit, it does look different than the fireblasts in Victim. It could be an animation thing, since they made the episodes a year apart. Or it could also mean that it was only Dark who was doing the destruction. But I don't care. I still hate Chosen for letting it all go down.

Also, this scene was definitely referencing Mitsi. Another one almost got hit by a rubble because of him.

And here's a summary of why vic is NOT an evil boss. Read the Part 2 for a more elaborate info.

The workers did not resign. The majority of the workforce disappeared because of the event. The string is connected to FRAME article of Where did they go?

Only one of them gave a (bad) interview. And it was at the same time the rumors started going around that he was in debt because the shareholders started selling shares. It was 3 articles in total written by a rival company to deface him.

Why do I think there's a rival company? Because of the incident report of someone getting caught stealing the UI Tools. Agent was able to subdue the suspect, and they filed a police report on it.

Yes, the Rocket Co. company "is not the same". That's because the original people were not there anymore. THEY DIED.

The previous articles say that vic hasn't made a public appearance, even after he became the new CEO.

He wasn't mistreating his workers. He's just not there.

And assuming they used to party all the time with Mitsi, those times should've stopped as well.

The article just exaggerated all the events at the company, and probably what that worker said in the interview as well. Typical newspaper stuff.

Everybody desperately want to make vic the evil cold boss, and people always forget that he and The Mercs have NEVER KILLED anyone.

What he has done so far was beat a god-level terrorist with ominous music playing in the background, and people were like- yeah that has to be the super bad guy ever. Everybody knows that nerd CEOs of tech companies are evil, yeah.

Despite seeing Victim where vic is the one who grants powers to people, people still think he would "take Second's power for himself".

A truly truly misunderstood character. Not only misunderstood, but there's barely anyone who cares enough to listen.

Second and Yellow's Capture.

Rocket Co. has two goals: Capturing Chosen and figure out how a cursor ended up in the Outernet.

The UI Tools were very rare. And because they were hunting down a cursor, they needed to know where Second got the pencil. Sticks are afraid of the Animators, they don't want the idea of them just casually showing up to the Outernet. Second was captured because of his potential connection to an Animator. And so did Yellow.

They are not aware about the hole in the Sky Tile, so there's no way they'll figure out how Yellow managed to summon a cursor, without capturing him too.

Although, it was actually Dark's tech that did the summoning, so I am not sure if Yellow would even be able to replicate it.

Agent overbeating RGB.

I see all of it as precaution. Chosen and Dark has already managed to wipe out Newgrounds. And now an Orange hollow managed to laser beam one of those terrorists.

It's only logical for them to assume that everyone that is potentially connected to The Chosen One would be powerful as well.

That's how I would respond too. I wouldn't trust people connected to terrorists, not even children. I would take try to take them down quickly before they could even harm the civilians around me. Agent was protecting the drivers, his family. No way he's letting them be in danger again.

(Also, I never agreed with them being children, but it's not related right now.)

I don't know why they stopped scanning Chosen. I honestly think it's a writer's plot hole, but an in-universe explanation would be that they needed to get everyone away from Second as possible. He could potentially get out at any time.

Why did it take too long for Agent to Pause Second and Chosen in Wanted? Were the Mercs playing with them all that time?

I don't see Wanted as the Mercs having fun.

I was more distracted by the fact that Second decided to use animals as meat shields. He can draw Rockets but not sure why he drew animals. A very odd choice for someone to immediately want living things to protect him. But that's not important right now.

It seems to me that the fight was being observed by cameras, and Agent has comms on. They were being ordered to push Second to use the Pencil to the extent of his abilities.

Since this was the first time they've seen a stick create life, and it was an Observation Sequence. NOT playing around.

Since I was right about vic having a tall wife, and that Agent is some sort of a sadist policeman, here are more theories I have.

The people around vic, especially his wife, knows that there Evil Animators out there, I want it to be true, that Mitsi was the one behind the Freedom website. She drew Black victim because they know how Noogai3 kept reviving the same black hollow over and over again. It was initially meant to save future versions of victim, but it ended up freeing Chosen and now Dark was created too.

The idea that they wanted to help enslaved sticks but ended up releasing the Terrorists of Newgrounds is so good of a backstory.

It was Chosen who saved Agent Oreo.

As much as I hate Chosen, I can't deny that this is his portal.

As to why he decided to save people, I have no idea.

The next Corn Dog Guy appearance will be his POV in Newgrounds. Then, we'll get to see what Chosen is actually doing there.

[small text] SKY Journal Astronomical breakthrough Highlights from SKY conference about(?) discovery of Sky Tiles How do Sky Tiles affect our understanding of weather? Microscopic examinations of Green Life Particles advance medical technology. [small text]

The Outernet sticks are aware of the benefits of the Green Particles. Now, I wonder if vic is now seeing Second as his way to save everyone? But too much time has passed, I don't know if Mitsi is still recoverable.

Right now, vic is trying to find out how an Animator managed to come to the Outernet. I personally think that the next episode would be more flashbacks but from Chosen's POV. Gotta get that angst meter high up.

I'm sure I had more theories, but I got so distracted today, that I forgot some of them.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

[nomoreusername]

What Truly Matters

Pairing:Minho x female reader

Summary:No matter how bad Minho's jealousy gets, he'll always end up remembering what's actually important.

I get it on a surface level. Y/N helps out with basically every Greenie. Answering questions with a lot of patience, checking in on them, eating dinner with them if they looked lonely. She was just sweet in general.

She’s just been a lot sweeter to this one. Probably because he never stops asking questions. And in typical Y/N fashion she didn't mind telling him.

He’s seen with Chuck a lot and sometimes Newt. Chances are if he wasn't with them though, he’d be with Y/N. It didn't seem to matter that she was a Runner. It didn't matter that despite having the same job our time together was limited. Her attention was his.

Tonight was supposed to be better though. It's Greenie night, and we always spend just a little bit of it together. Just enough to make up for how little we get to see each other. Even though it's not a ton it's enough to keep us stable. I assumed she would care about that. If we can't have a steady relationship why even have one in the first place? It would clearly be better to go our separate ways at that point.

Tonight was supposed to be better.

As I found myself still sitting in the dark by myself, it was obvious it would not be better. It was actually worse now. I didn't know that was possible before this point.

She has stayed with Greenie. She had stayed before the fight, had watched him during it, celebrated when he won and remembered his name, and until basically the end of the night. She had stayed with Greenie.

And in doing so she had completely forgotten about me.

Fine. I know where I stand now, and it certainly isn't with her. If Thomas means more than she can have Thomas.

Standing up, I stormed off to my hammock, my arms crossed over my chest as I glared at absolutely nothing. Even if there was someone to glare at, I wouldn't care. I don't care about anything at this point. She can have her precious Thomas, but I’ll be damned if I fall second to a Greenie.

♡ - - - ♡

I woke up early for one reason and one reason only.

I’m avoiding her. I don't want to see her. I don't want to speak to her. I don't even want to think about her. As far as I’m concerned, she can stay the shuck away from me.

Unfortunately, she had been up early too, trying to make excuses for not spending Greenie night with me. She apologized profusely, swearing it would be better next time.

Yeah right. With the way things have been going, I don't even think there can be a next time, something I was more than willing to let her know before I started my section, not letting her reply. I don't even think she could if she tried as she stared at me with wide eyes, opening and closing her mouth before her lips started to quiver as she realized the gravity of what I was telling her.

I tried to pretend that wasn't haunting the back of my mind. The image of her heartbroken and shocked face wasn't something I wanted to stick with me.

Still, it played over and over in my head, taunting and torturing me. No matter how badly I didn't want to think about what would most likely lead to a breakup, my brain was determined to make me recognize how much it hurt.

I didn't bother with lunch. I won't be able to stomach anything. I just sat on the ground, wishing that things had played out any way but this.

As I was wallowing in pity, I heard faint cries. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I glanced around, listening in for the direction it was coming from.

Staying dead silent, I stood up, walking as quietly as possible so I could find out where to go and if I should go. Creeping to the end of the Maze, I looked left and right, determining two things as I did.

It was coming from the wall right beside me.

The cries belonged to a girl.

There's only one girl in this place. That's how it’s been for so long, and even if she’s not mine anymore, I could never leave her behind. I could never not follow her to the end of the world, even if I used all my will to resist her pull.

The same pull that led me around a corner and in front of her.

She was sitting on the ground, holding her bloody leg. Her shoulders were shaking as she sobbed, her face stained with tears.

“Y/N,”I breathed out, rushing to her side. She kept her gaze on the ground as choked cries left her. Placing her palm to her eyes, she hid her tears as best as she could.

“We’re going to the Medjacks,”I said,wrapping one arm around her shoulder and the other under her leg. She didn't object as she met my pick her up, grasping my shirt as she sniffled, burying her face in my chest.

“I'm sorry,”She got out, her voice cracking.

“Don't worry about that right now. We just need to get you better,”I said firmly, pulling her closer to me and doing my best to ignore her blood dripping into the stone with small plops, staining the already tense place.

I don't care about her and Thomas. I don't care about the argument. I don't care about what I said. Maybe I will after this is over, but all that matters right now is that she's okay. No matter what happens to us, her waking up tomorrow is the most important thing in the world.

[memento-morri-writes]

#ooh good luck with the vengeance!#great excerpt even if the man himself may not be having a good time in it- i am#glad to hear he's currently doing well too 😆

@writeouswriter Thank you!!! Glad to hear someone else enjoys me tormenting this poor man. Unfortunately for my beloved boy, "well" is extremely relative. For most people where he's at currently would probably still be considered Pretty Fucking Awful.

bullet list of his past/future 24 hours under the cut

In the past 24 hours in game time he's:

been dragged back from the brink of death

reunited with his only friend from pre-campaign after not seeing her for 3 years.

reunited with his former mentor+captain after not seeing her in 3 years.

found out that said mentor knew all the details of the torture being done to him for 2 out of the 3 years but wasn't able to do anything about it because if she did Wolf would have killed him.

(relatedly, this means he's responsible for her being forced to stop sailing, which she loved, and all the bad things that happened to her since.)

had said reunion interrupted by the arrival of a giant snake.

said snake proceeded to eat the aforementioned best and only friend, after turning her into a bird.

(said snake also only showed up / was pissed because of Rook's actions, so this is 100% his fault even if he didn't know what would happen.)

gotten zero fucking sleep (which tbf has been his normal for months now. Yay for the demon lord curse!!)

pissed off the rest of the party by rudely setting down a crossbow he was gifted by a now-deceased party member (he was trying to make a point that he would fight this snake personally or not at all, despite being only hours out from nearly dying.)

fought said giant snake, including getting knocked to 3 hp in one hit (we're level 10, btw. That was 60hp of damage. (yay hold person auto-crits, lmao.))

Narrowly avoided getting killed by and then killing the snake instead. (Held action attack as the snake was barrelling down to eat him.)

Discovered that his friend was in fact dead. (RIP Jay. You deserved so much better. I loved you.)

Revived her, but she's still stuck as a bird and no one can turn her back. (So no fun/cute interactions for the two of them + still mountains of guilt.)

Today's session (still the same day) he has to:

Learn why Wolf hates Zara (captain/mentor) enough to want to kidnap Rook to hurt her. (and whatever it is, Zara seems terrified of his reaction to it. She has nothing to worry about, he'd forgive her anything. And I do mean anything. But that doesn't mean he can't be hurt by having the (idealized due to 2-3 years of rescue fantasies, fever dreams, and other unreliable thought processes) image he has of her being shattered.)

Get told that he is now the captain of her ship. (Which he does not believe he deserves, seeing as he literally just got his only friend killed, and he's also carrying about 13 tons of guilt for every bad thing that's happened to the party recently.)

Honestly at this point he's probably going to (at least almost) keel over from exhaustion and shock and stress. (He literally has not so much as sat down since he got out of bed this morning, and he was a prisoner for weeks, so all his strength has been lost.)

Tell People the (partial) Truth (which is terrifying and something he would avoid doing ever if he could.)

Talk to Zara again (and ask for advice on how to be a captain... 🥺)

Make a good(?) first impression on his new crew.

Deal with the dude who drugged him and sold him to Wolf the first time. (part of the first impression thing, in a way.)

This man's life is a nonstop rollercoaster of misery, and sometimes even I feel a little bit bad about it, lmao.

whump-y wednesday

I don't know if this is actually a thing, but it's Wednesday, and I wrote a really fucked-up snippet that I liked, so I'm posting it. But most of it's going under the cut because uh, well, it's fucked up. My boy was not having a good time before the party came to rescue him.

tw for mentions of blood, illness, and torture

A horrible screech pulled him out of the dark. He opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he was. Light poured in from the open door, illuminating the walls of his cell. The door. Its rusty hinges were what had made the screeching sound. He tried to lift his head to look around, but pain shot through his chest. Since when did it hurt to breathe? He heard the sound of metal against wood and the sloshing of liquid as someone set down a small bucket of water. “I dunno what the point of givin’ him any water is.” A gruff voice said. “He’s been burnin’ up for days now, and we all know the captain won’t let a healer within a hundred yards of him.” A grunt of agreement and another voice said, “If he’s still alive in a week, I’ll give Zafira a kiss.” The first voice laughed, and the last thing Rook heard as the door swung closed was, “Your funeral.”

Blindly, he reached towards where he had seen the bucket of water. His muscles screamed, and he felt scabs and dried blood cracking as he moved for the first time in… hours? Days? He wasn’t sure. His fingers met metal and eagerly he pulled the bucket towards him, too weak to lift it off the floor. Water sloshed over the sides, blissfully cool where it touched his skin. Hands shaking with effort and excitement, he dipped them into the bucket and splashed water on his face. He could have cried. How had he never known how good water could feel? He cupped water in his hands and brought it to his lips. Only a few drops actually made it into his mouth, but even those felt heavenly. Again and again he dipped his hands into the bucket, getting more water on the floor and his body than in his mouth. After several mouthfuls the water started to taste odd, slightly salty, and he distantly realized that the blood and grime from his hands must be washing off, mixing with the water. He didn’t care. It was still the best thing he’d ever tasted.  He thought he heard laughter. Who was laughing? Was he laughing? He couldn’t blame himself if he was.

[piko-rose]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[opticsel]

crazy to think that people my age want to have sex… and that many of them have had sex before… and that they are actively seeking out people to have sex with….. and that they talk about sex with their other sex-having friends……. couldn’t be me but y’all have fun tho! stay safe out there and stuff

[xcziel]

has anybody else thought about how jk could easily manage sofia's parts of slow dance or is it just me?

[orcelito]

I'm at the painful "confession" scene during the kage summit arc. It really is so emotional, but also... hm.

When I was younger, like 13 or so, I was a big Sakura and Naruto shipper. They were the first pairing I read fanfic for even. And in a way, I do still enjoy the two of them together... but it's moments like these that really drive home the fact that it Doesn't really work in canon. Not the way that it's set up.

As Sakura puts it, "Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke! That's all you think about!"

She's told that Naruto has feelings for her and decides to use it to convince him to stop going after Sasuke. She does love him, but not in the way she's trying to confess. The love they share is one of comradery, not necessarily romantic. The love of two people who have gone through such pain together, and who have leaned on each other throughout it all. And the fact that she's turning around and saying she loves him "simply like everyone else", now... it's trivializing. And the fact that she's trying to convince him of this, the fact that she thinks she Can convince him of this, is pretty hurtful. They've come a long way from when they were kids, Naruto the goofball vying for her attention while she yelled at him for being stupid. Sakura respects Naruto so much more than before, and Naruto respects her too. So the fact that she's still doing this... She's desperate, really. She thinks the promise he made to her to bring Sasuke home is what's driving him to let himself be hurt over and over and over again in the pursuit and protection of Sasuke.

But she's wrong.

That may be part of it, but it's only part. Naruto wants Sasuke back for himself, too. He let himself be beat up to avoid selling him out. He chases after him with single minded determination. Sasuke is his entire drive to get stronger, to catch up, to bring him home. Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke indeed.

As it is, Naruto knows she's lying to herself. And no matter what she says, he will keep going after Sasuke. Because that's just the person that Naruto is.