#the way amy emphasizes that 'what'

[hopeswriting]

[Gifs description slightly expanded upon alt text: gifs of Amelia Pond and the Eleventh Doctor, from the TV show Doctor Who (2005). They’re in a baby’s room, with Amy being heavily pregnant.

She kneels next to Rory's ashes, slightly rocking herself, looking up at the Doctor. She says, "Save him. You save everyone, you always do. It's what you do."

"Not always," the Doctor says, standing and fidgeting with his fingers. A close-up on Amy's face shows her tearful eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks. Her slight hopeful smile disappears, her face turning cold. "I'm sorry," the Doctor says, looking down, and the close-up on his face shows his regretful expression.

Amy turns scornful and accusing as his words sink in. She leans forwards, saying, "Then what... is the point of you?"

The Doctor looks down again, staying silent.

The camera goes back to a wide shot of Amy, showing her tenderly grasping onto Rory's ashes. The camera still does a close-up on the Doctor’s face, showing him mouth something as he makes to move forwards and closer to Amy, but hesitates to do so. /End GD]

This is the dream. Definitely this one. Now, if we die here, we wake up, yeah? (in bold) Unless we just die. (in plain text) Either way, this is my only chance of seeing him again. This is the dream. (in bold) How do you know? (in plain text) Because if this is real life, I don’t want it (”it” is italicized). I don’t want it.

#doctor who #dw #eleventh doctor #amy pond #dwedit #dwgif #dr who #the doctor #11th doctor #amelia pond #gif described #hopeedit #mine #i went to war against my computer for TWO DAYS to make this gifset just so you know #and i LOST but here's the gifset anyway #anyway this scene. pain. #the way amy emphasizes that 'what' #the pause she makes after saying it and the pause she makes /before/ speaking up #the way the doctor doesn't try to defend himself because he /agrees/ with her #because he blames himself too for not being able to bring rory back and for letting him die to begin with #and the way he still /itches/ to reach out to her and comfort her anyway #the way he looks at her so carefully; not wanting to make her feel worse and wanting nothing more but to be allowed to make her feel better #at the same time #and staying put anyway because he knows amy /won't/ allow him to try to make her feel better #that /his/ comfort and support is the last thing that'd make her feel better right now #and so he stays silent and doesn't defend himself because letting her blame him is the only way he can help her feel better right now #the love is there and it makes them tear at each other and it makes them let it happen #anyway 😭💔

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 14

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst by the buckets.

'We should talk.' 

'I'd rather not.' 

It's been two days.

Two days since you've been in his presence, avoiding every mention and sight of him, making yourself as scarce as possible.

Two days since you kissed him.

Your body heats up at the memory. The way he grabbed you, held you close, returned your feverish kisses with some of his own.

You look down at your phone, swallowing when you see the read receipts light up on the message you just sent.

In true Billy fashion, he doesn't respond.

What a fucking pain in the ass, you think angrily. 

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto your desk and throwing yourself into your work.

This time, you're not worried about possible fallouts, he'd definitely kissed you back, right?

Fuck, what a kiss. Your toes curled at the memory, a spot deep inside you aching, emphasizing the emptiness inside of you.

It was too much, the knowledge of what his mouth tasted like, the feel of his passionate hands on your body.

How could you ever hope to forget that it had happened? Did you even want to?

The answer was no.

You didn't want to forget it, and you didn't think it was a mistake either.

But it definitely wasn't a good thing.

Especially now, when your relationship had grown more strained in the last two days.

Friendship, what a dumb word.

If you weren't still upset with him, you'd probably go back up to his office and grip him by his stupid tie once more. 

You think about kissing him again, kicking one leg over his hip, grinding your body against his. Maybe you'd slip between his legs and pull his thick cock out of his pants-

You gasp, blinking back into reality, aware that you've been staring at the same sentence for minutes now.

You swallow, clicking the document away with a sigh.

You toss your head back in your chair, take a small stretch, try to remind yourself why you were mad at Billy.

Right, he was too indecisive. One moment he holds you close and tells you the most amazing things, the next he's avoiding you.

If you followed through on any of your fantasies with him, there was a high chance that he'd ghost you afterwards.

He probably just didn't like you as much as you'd hoped.

It was a painful thought. 

.

He was watching you.

Like the world's biggest creep.

Billy didn't completely understand why you were angry with him, but it was killing him inside. He needed to know, he needed to fix it.

It had been two days and he hadn't seen you in person since. You'd become very good at avoiding him. 

The absolute torment of seeing you everyday to not at all and all he had was the memory of a kiss that still made his lips tingle and his cock hard.

Now, the only way he could see you was on the little camera feed tucked into a corner wall of the office workspace area.

The camera quality was grainy, really just put in and not monitored unless there was an issue.

Billy had opened the feed five times in the last two days.

It was getting ridiculous, he didn't want another day to go by without trying to talk to you. You'd given him a rather clear message to leave you alone, but he couldn't, not after knowing how hurt you were, and definitely not after he found out how sweet your mouth tasted.

Like fucking strawberries.

He needed to make amends. 

.

You regret not going out tonight when Amy had offered. You could have been at a nice bar right now, sipping on a fancy margarita, laughing with your friends.

But you’d turned them down.

Why the fuck had you turned them down?

Friday night, and you’d just decided to take a bath and lie in bed.

It wasn't so bad, you reasoned, you only wished you were with them because you were in bed. If you'd been at the bar, you'd be sitting there, wishing you were here instead.

You smile, your therapist might praise you for becoming that level of self aware.

When there's a knock at your door, you raise your head in surprise.

Logically, it could only be one person. The one with the appropriate security clearance to make it up to your door without you being informed beforehand.

You take a deep breath, wondering what he would possibly want to say to you at a time like this.

You’re greeted with flowers. 

You see them before you see his face, pink and white tulips, wrapped in a rustic brown paper and some thread that’s looped tightly around your chest just comes loose at the sight of him.

What did you address him as now? William? Mister Russo? Billy? What did you call your boss that you’d kissed in a heated rush in his office during working hours?

“Hey.” Is all you end up saying.

He says your name in greeting, looking down at the bouquet in his arms for a second. 

“May I come in?”

May he? Was this a good idea?

You nod, pulling your door wider and sidestepping to let him in.

“Is there… something I can help you with?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He comments, avoiding your eyes.

Straight to the point.

“Yes.” You agree.

He finally turns to look at you, something unnameable in his eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

You give him a smile of apology, eyes drifting to the tulips still in his arms.

“Those for me?”

He nods, extending them out to you.

Your hands brush as you take them, turning away from him to find a place for them.

“They’re beautiful,” You state, “How did you know they were my favourite?”

"I didn’t.” He says, the awkwardness between you is as palpable as if it were a third person standing in the room.

He's silent as you take your time, searching for the appropriate vase to put them in. You press your nose to them and hum happily as the soft petals touch your cheek.

"Would you like something to drink?" You offer, turning to him.

He swallows.

"No. Why are you avoiding me?" He presses, going straight to the point.

You grin quietly into the flowers.

"I feel like you avoided me first." You hedge the question, looking eagerly at him for a response.

He looks a little irked, looking away from you and taking a deep breath, pretending to study your apartment.

"That's what this is about?"

"In part, you just kind of piss me off in general."

He raises his eyebrows in astonishment, still not meeting your eyes.

"Well this is confusing, considering that you kissed me." He challenges.

You wanted to rage at him, curse his stunning looks and captivating personality for pulling you into him, and this mindset of affection toward him.

Instead you suck in a breath.

"I feel like everytime we get close- as friends- you just… you pull as far away from me as humanly possible."

You let out a long sigh, leaving the bouquet of tulips in their spot on your kitchen counter, moving to plop onto your couch in a dramatic flourish.

You grab one of your throw pillows, setting it in your lap and squeezing tightly.

“Of course I’m avoiding you,” You continue, “I’m just expecting you to pull away again.”

You look at him for a moment, as he takes in your words. You can almost watch him process them, eyelids fluttering as he maybe debates internally.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, coming to sit beside you on your couch. His eyes are earnest and warm, and it takes you by surprise.

You honestly doubted he’s said those words to many people.

“I push you away, I do, when I first offered you the job, you said that you weren’t interested if I was only doing it to get involved with you.”

He swallows, he looks so nervous that your heart almost breaks for him.

“I just didn’t want you to think that was true.” He continues, “You’re a good employee, but the more I get to know you, the more I want to, and I find that very dangerous.”

“Billy.” You say in a measured tone, waiting for him to stop avoiding your gaze and look at you directly.

“I believe you. You’ve made it very clear that you think I’m good for the job and I respect that.”

You can feel something shift between you, the animosity turning into understanding.

“I want to know you better too.” You finish, voice soft, earnest.

He blinks quickly, looking away. You can’t help your body’s response to him, the memory of his mouth on yours sparking up ill-timed tingles.

“I don’t want anyone devaluing your work because we’re close.” He responds.

Chest constricting, you smile sadly.

“I- that means a lot to me. But, people will find any excuse to do what they want. I just want to be true to myself and let the pieces fall where they have to.”

He looks at you, the corners of his mouth pulling subtly upwards.

“So, you forgive me then?”

You reach for his hand, covering it with yours, giving an affectionate squeeze.

“Of course I do.”

He turns his hand upward, interlocking your fingers, eyes drifting down to look at your joined hands.

Tingles spread from where he touches, moving from your arm all the way up to your chest. You gulp, looking at him, studying his face, remembering the kiss.

That damned kiss.

You watch him take a deep breath, and he looks up at you. It’s a long and heated moment and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t pull back.

You don’t know who moves, or if you both do, like magnets being pulled into each other, a force of attraction that cannot be seen with the bare eye, cannot be felt by anyone else other than you.

He’s so close that your noses almost brush. You can feel his warm breath dancing across your skin in little puffs.

"We, we um," You try to focus on anything other than his lips, looking into his half opened dark eyes as you try to speak, "We shouldn't be alone together."

"No?" He asks softly, a little tilt of his head and you watch his eyes drop to your lips, "Why's that?"

"Because..." You trail off.

Because I can't keep myself in control around you, you want to say.

Instead, you close the distance between your bodies, leaning in to kiss him.

A low sigh leaves the back of your throat as your lips meet. You feel your stomach flip happily at the reunion of your mouths.

He groans, the vibrations tingle against your lips, his large hand rising to cup your jaw, warm thumb stroking over your cheek.

You move closer, till you're almost in his lap, your fingers twitch nervously as your hands rest on his chest, sliding their way up into his hair.

You try to fight the urgency, the impatience scratching at the back of your head to just take and take and take.

Your lips part, gently tracing the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip for only a second before pulling back. 

He makes an abrupt sound, drawing back suddenly, breaking the kiss. His movements are so surprising that you lean away from him and allow him the space to stand.

Your heart squeezes as you look at his back.

You're almost afraid to ask.

"Is everything okay?"

He doesn't speak for a long moment, raising a hand to rake through his hair.

"Yes, just wanted to check- are you sure about this?"

You blink.

"Yes, I am... are you? It's okay if you don't like me that much, we can stop."

He spins around as if you've said something positively absurd.

"Like you? You think I don't like you?"

You look down sadly, smoothing a hand over your knees.

"Well, yeah, you, you dismiss me sometimes as if you're not interested. It can come across as dislike, or even a little mean."

"Mean?" He says, taking long strides to stand before you, your head tilting down to follow his form as he kneels before you.

He looks at you for too long, and you have to look away or melt into a puddle under the pull of his dark eyes.

Carefully, he raises his hands to cover yours, smoothing over your skin with the tips of his fingers.

"When I'm around you, I'm usually using every ounce of strength I have to stop myself, to hold back so that I don't scare you off."

He swallows, tilting his head, his eyes locked on your joined hands.

"I want so many things, and you most of all. I've just been shit at showing it."

"You really have." You agree.

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

You raise a hand, cupping his cheek softly, thumb exploring the pout of his lips, the scratch of his beard.

His eyebrows draw together, he leans in, rubbing his bearded cheek into your hand.

"I'm worried," He whispers, "That I won't be able to stop."

"I trust you." You say to him softly, reaching up with your other hand to curl your fingers into the collar of his shirt.

"And I don't want you to stop." 

You pull him in then, his body pressed to yours as you seal your lips together in a heated rush. Your body trembles with the sensation of having him all around you, so close like he's the layer of air surrounding you.

His hands cup your cheeks, blunted fingers gripping tight, daring you to be apart from him for more than the space of a breath.

Your insides unfurl with something akin to delight, your toes curl. You lean into him more, accepting anything he's willing to give, and answering with desire of your own. 

You fight to keep the kiss slow, enjoy the way his mouth moves sinfully on yours. 

But it's too powerful, this need you have for him, you want to scratch and claw and submit and surrender and take and it just turns like a tornado in your head until you're biting gently on his bottom lip, tugging on it with careful precision, body pulsing as you hear the low sound that leaves him.

He draws away for a moment looking at you with even eyes.

"You torment me." He whispers, pressing his lips to yours once more, any pretence of slow and careful being thrown out of the window.

You torment me too, you want to say.

He rises, pushing you back until your body lies flat on your couch, and he hovers above you. You keep his mouth firm to yours, fingers tangled in his soft hair, exploring his back and shoulders, and when you part your lips again, jutting your tongue out playfully, you're delighted when you meet his tongue in return.

Your legs on either side of his hips gripping him tight, daring him to pull away from you as he kisses you senseless, your tongues dancing together in wet bliss.

"I could kiss you all night." Billy says between kisses.

You nod, humming in agreement, pulling his mouth back to yours.

Your skin tingles, his careful fingers tracing your cheeks and moving down your neck. 

You arch your body against his eagerly, so willing to give every part of yourself to him.

He slides his hand into the space between your arched back and the couch, keeping your body curved into his, your breasts rubbing against his chest, you wiggle your hips in an attempt to ease the near painful ache between your thighs.

You feel his cock then, stiff against his pants, and he groans into your mouth when your hips chase the firm sensation.

He whispers your name against your lips, a warm, broken sound of a man losing control of himself.

"Billy," You gasp, foreheads pressed together, resisting the heat of desire pulsing between your bodies, "I need you." 

You feel his entire body shudder.

He nods, nose brushing yours as his lips move away from yours, kissing your jaw instead, and then the curve of your neck.

You cry out, his teeth worrying your skin, scraping against your sanity, soothing with gentle swipes of his tongue.

You feel yourself tremble, and tremble further when he moves down your body, frustrated hands pushing your dress up your thighs so that the bunched fabric settles on your hips.

He doesn't move for a moment, and you raise your head in worry to see him staring at the space between your parted thighs intensely.

"You don't have to." You whisper, misreading the expression on his face.

His dark eyes meet yours, he tilts his head for a moment, before his eyes drop to your clothed cunt once more. 

"It's not that." He says, his hands starting at your ankles and sliding their way up your legs, "I've just thought about this a lot."

You bite down on your bottom lip very hard, trying to remain focused, and not beg him to fuck you within an inch of your life.

His hands stop midway between your knees and your ass, and he looks up at you.

"You want this?" He asks.

You almost groan in frustration.

"Yes, yes I really do."

"Tell me." 

You gulp.

"Tell you?" You ask, your head too disoriented to focus on what he's asking you to do.

"Tell me you want me to lick your cunt."

A little needy sound leaves you at his words. You clench around nothing, gathering your thoughts for a second before you speak.

"Billy," You finally whisper, "Please, lick my... cunt." 

A devilish smile pulls at his lips.

"Of course." He hums, his hands resuming their upward trail.

He grips either side of your underwear and you tilt your hips up, watching him anxiously, trying to read every expression on his face.

You know you're wet, that you've most likely soaked the gusset of your panties with your arousal. 

You study him, as he tugs your undergarment off your legs and lays his eyes on your bare center for the first time.

His lips part, eyes dark as he looks at you. You watch his throat bob as he swallows.

Your breath catches as you feel the tips of his fingers graze your wet slit. Your mouth drops open at the gentle sensation.

His thumb finds your clit easily, grazing the swollen bud and you let out a harsh sob, back dropping onto the couch, unable to hold your body up.

"So. Fucking. Pretty." Billy says, so clearly that it makes you ache even more for him.

You groan when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, leaving careless tingles in the wake of his mouth, he kisses his way over your skin, and there's a short moment of pause where you feel a puff of his breath against your aching core before his mouth is on you.

A sweet kiss between your legs, a gentle promise to ease the ache inside you, and then he extends his tongue to slide against your clit.

It's like lightning, the speed at which the pleasure fills you, passing through you, amplifying, with the careful stroke of his tongue.

He groans between your thighs, his first taste of you leading to palms gripping at your thighs, fingers pressing into soft skin to keep you close.

His next lick is firmer, over and over again his tongue swipes over your clit, he makes another low moan, and the next glide of his tongue starts at your entrance and trails up to your clit.

You mewl, hands moving to cover your mouth, then down to cup his hands in yours, any attempt to process the delicious burn of pleasure blooming under your skin.

You sigh his name, you swear he answers with an easy swipe of his tongue.

It’s too much, embarrassingly so because he’s only just begun and here you are- already on edge for him.

Your resistance is futile.

His tongue claims ownership of your most delicate parts.

You never stood a chance.

Panting, your nails clawing at his hands, hearing his low voice hum in bliss between your thighs.

You make another soft groan of his name, it’s all you know, all you can remember in the hazy confines of your mind.

How is his tongue so skilled? How can he kindle you so easily? You are firewood and he’s a spark and now you’re burning just for him.

His beard tickles your thighs, you realised he’s paused his torment to kiss at your skin.

You’re helpless to it.

You can hear each desperate breath you take, it echoes in your ears, and then you let out another whine as he kisses your dripping cunt once again.

Filthy wet sounds as he takes care of you, tantalising groans as his tongue explores between your thighs, mapping places he’s only ever been in your mind.

The inferno rages, and when his lips massage your clit, sealing around it easily, his tongue playing with your swollen bud, you feel feverish with the euphoria.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to tell him, an attempt to get him to understand.

He already does.

Groaning, one hand unfurling from around your thigh to reach his way up your body.

He tugs at your dress, pulling the strap off your shoulder and tugging it as far down as it will go. His tongue doesn’t slow as he pulls at your clothes, until one of your breasts is exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck.” You cry as he cups your hot skin, thumb finding your peaked nipple easily and dancing his thumb over it.

You feel the pleasure arc it’s way down your spine, joins with his tongue, threatens you with pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

You have one brief moment of sanity, where you’re acutely aware that your body is on a precipice, ready to fall at the next touch of Billy’s tongue.

All you can think in that one small moment is, Oh my fucking god.

And then you fall.

Frantic gasps as hot waves of pure pleasure crash over you. You feel the walls of your cunt spasm, clenching rhythmically around nothing. Every movement of your body is involuntary, each tremble and shake is something beyond your control.

Billy keeps the pleasure focused on you, helping you through your orgasm and into barely bearable territory.

He stops his torment when you whimper, pulling his messy mouth from your equally messy cunt, giving your breast another affectionate glide of his hand before pulling back.

You raise your head, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, watching him lick your arousal off of his lips.

You look at each other for a long moment. There’s that worry in the back of your mind that a clear line has been crossed so severely that it cannot be taken back.

If he has any inkling of your current train of thought, he doesn’t show it, leaning in instead, his fingers gripping your chin softly to keep you close to him.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of the night with my head buried between your thighs.”

Your breath hitches, you clench around nothing.

He smiles, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, observing your rumpled state, your dress pushed up to your hips, one strap falling off your shoulder, exposing your breast. You look like a proper mess where he still looks mostly put together.

You wanted to change that.

You sit up, sliding your body off your couch and standing on shaky legs. His eyes follow your every movement, and when you bunch your dress up, and tug it over your head, you try your hardest not to be shy about it.

He’s seen you touch yourself before, your mind supplies helpfully, it’s nothing to be naked in front of him.

It definitely helps, the reminder that he’s fucked his fist to the sight of you. You stand naked in front of him now, watching his every expression.

His eyes roam your bare skin, your body tingles at the feeling, his eyes as warm as a gentle touch on your skin. There’s just something about the moment, an understanding, a level of appreciation that’s so potent you can almost feel it.

He stands, takes a step in your direction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Billy says, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yeah?” You ask, raising a hand to cup the smooth underside of your breast.

When he takes a step toward you, you take one back. You can tell he’s intrigued by the idea of it, the slow chase.

“Of course you are. You make it hard for me to think when you walk into a room.”

He takes another step, and you mirror his movement.

“That sounds awful. How do you put up with me?” You tease, taking more steps back, slowly guiding him into your bedroom.

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I think about pressing you to the first flat surface and making you mine.”

A shiver of delight goes down your spine.

“Is that why you’re always so mean? Because you’re thinking about fucking me?”

“Obviously.” He answers, before raising his arms above his head and pulling his shirt off in one magnificent display of muscle.

You let out a little squeak at seeing him up close, you almost run toward him, instead of backing away from him. 

Even with his shirt off, he looks so magnificently dangerous that you can feel how bad your arousal is for him. His chest is broad and lined with a delicious amount of muscle, his biceps are near perfection, and your body tingles for a taste. A trail of hair from the spot below his navel into his pants makes you flushed with heat. You imagine briefly what is cock is like, remembering absentmindedly the time he assured you that he was bigger than the large dildo sitting in your nightstand.

What makes him more delectable is the scars that cover parts of his body. There are some on his left shoulder, what looks like a bullet hole in his lower abdomen. You gulp, acknowledging the fact that his flaws only make him more perfect, more mouthwatering.

You almost forget that you’re naked, only gasping in surprise when your back comes into contact with the chilled surface of your bedroom door.

He lets out a slow breath, palms pressed to either side of your body, not close enough to touch, but just enough to make you feel trapped, his warm breath on your skin.

“You want this?” He checks in, tilting his head to the side to observe you.

You nod, looking up at him, he nods along with you in a slight mocking manner.

“I want to hear you say it.” He murmurs, his fingertips tracing your shoulder gently, goosebumps on your skin as he works his way down your arm, taking your hand in his.

Your mouth parts in surprise when he presses your hand to the outline of his cock. You can feel the raw size of him, hot and stiff against the palm of your hand. You realise, in the back of your mind, that he really was large- bigger that you’d initially thought.

“Tell me you want me.” He pleads.

You gulp, hands exploring the stiff erection in his pants, your fingers squeezing around the sides to get an approximation of his girth. Your clit aches with just the idea of his size.

“I more than want you, Billy, I need you. Inside me, so deep that I never forget the feeling.”

He nods frantically, unable to hold himself back, he leans in to kiss you.

You throw your arms around his neck and enjoy the slide of your fingers against his hot skin.

He breaks the kiss for a second, lowering himself to grip your thighs. You wrap one careful leg around his hip, and upon his insistence you transfer your weight fully onto him, his hands supporting your naked backside.

You cling to him as he lifts you, desperate, body aching for more and more of his touch.

You’re not sure how he does it, and you have no time to marvel at his strength before he grips your jaw, bringing your mouth back to his.

You sigh, cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching at his beard, feeling the hairs tickle your palms. You melt into his body, feeling him groan as his mouth moves over yours.

He walks you into your room, and you have no care for your surroundings, your hands too busy exploring his back and shoulders and anywhere else you can get your hands on.

He bends, placing you gently onto your bed, his hands rising to cup your cheeks, and then making their way over every inch of your shoulders.

“God, you’re so soft.” He rumbles against your mouth. You gasp when his palms cup both your breasts in his large hands.

“I could just touch you all damn day.”

He’s so talkative now, and you find yourself loving each word that leaves his lips.

“Touch me all day, lick me all night- when am I getting fucked?” You tease, hearing him laugh into your mouth.

“When you ask for it.” He says decisively, pressing you onto your back.

It’s like he can’t leave your mouth, pulling back for a moment, only to draw back to your lips in a heated  rush. It makes you laugh, your body readily receptive to him.

He kisses your neck and jaw, electric tingles all over your skin, desperate shivers as he cups your breasts, pushing them together and kissing over them. 

You gasp, writhing below him, his mouth on your skin feels amazing, he works his way down and you gasp, your thighs spreading easily when he moves to settle himself between them.

He doesn’t say another word, his tongue reuniting with your clit, swirling careful circles around your heated bundle of nerves. You gasp, arching your back, fingers drifting into your hair.

“Billy!” You gasp, and the vigour of his tongue increases until he’s just flat out making out with your cunt.

Your head swims, pleasure in every essence of your cell and you feel a lone finger drift in careful circles at your entrance.

“Fuck!” You cry, feeling his finger hovering right at your entrance for a long moment. He’s mean, his fingers tormenting you as his tongue licks over your clit at a steady pace.

“Please,” You sob, tilting your hips up, trying to chase the pleasure he’s not yet ready to give.

You try to breathe through it, squirming beneath his body, his hand grips your hip, thumb moving in firm circles to keep you calm.

You shudder in bliss when his finger sinks halfway into you.

It’s not enough, and too much all at the same time. His breath on your mound, his tongue laving lazily at your clit, he curls his lone finger partially upwards, scattering pleasure before withdrawing his finger.

“No,” You cry, “Please please please please fuck me Billy,” Your breath hitches, “I need it so bad.”

You feel him hum, before his finger re-renters you.

“Poor sweet girl.” You think you hear him mumble from his spot between your thighs, and then he begins rocking his finger in you so gently, that it’s almost more of a micromovement than anything. Yet somehow still, he manages to give you pleasure.

“Please please please,” You keep whispering, afraid that he’s going to stop giving you what you need, what you crave for and dream about. He’s every fantasy come to life, tongue rolling over your clit wetly, an easy rhythm of pleasure that he draws out from you leaving no thoughts in its wake.

A broken sound escapes you, desperate, aching, and you think he almost feels apologetic with the way he lines up a second finger against your entrance.

It’s debauchery, the way his fingers feel, broader and longer than yours could ever, makes you feel so insanely full when he carefully pushes two digits all the way into you.

He fills the deepest parts of you, erases any sense of emptiness, makes you forget that you’d ever craved fullness in the first place.

And then his fingers start to move.

Your breath escapes you in a hot rush, mouth dropping open as he starts off slow, painfully slow, rocking his fingers into you, curling them up, making sure you feel every little movement.

His tongue is still playing with your clit, you feel like crying, you’ve never felt this way before.

You say his name, one hand moving from his hair, over to where he grips your hip. You want to hold his hand, and he obliges easily, fingers linking with yours, make you feel so much warmer and safer with him than ever before.

I’ve got you, he seems to say with his actions, go ahead and fall for me.

And of course you do.

Cunt spasming around his fingers, desperate cries leaving your mouth as he winds you up and helps you through your second release.

You whimper, little gasps leaving the back of your throat as your body shudders with the oncoming pleasure. He keeps pumping his fingers into you, and you can almost feel the smile he has on his face, pressed to your cunt. You squeeze his other hand in yours tightly, his thumb smoothing over your skin even then.

When he detaches from your heated centre, you sit up quickly.

You lean into him, pressing your mouth to his frantically, reaching for the zipper of his pants. He tries to help you, one hand trying to work at the button while the other grips the back of your head, but you only get in each other’s way.

You laugh into his mouth as you both fumble, but silently thankful when finally you get his pants undone.

He has to pull away with a grin on his face, climbing off the bed so that he can shove the material of his pants and his boxers off in one go.

You go brainless when you see his cock. Erect and near throbbing, a little bit curved, you feel your mouth water as you stare at the monster between his legs.

He was very right to tell you that he was bigger than your dildo, you swallow nervously, trying to figure out exactly how that was going to fit inside of you. 

Your eyes manage to glance at this thigh, you see a deep gouge on the side of his right thigh, you tilt your head in worry wondering what could have caused a scar like that, one that runs from his hip to his knee.

It must have hurt terribly, and your heart aches for whatever malady he’s been through in his past.

You seek to give him pleasure now, crawling on all fours to the edge of your bed, looking up at him for a moment, before dropping your head to suckle at the tip of his cock.

Billy hisses.

The salty taste of his precum fills your mouth. You can’t help humming at the taste of him. Slowly, you begin to bob your head, taking as much as comfortably possible.

His fingers cup the back of your head, slightly guiding your movements with no real force behind it.

“Good girl,” He grunts, guiding your movements, you hear him shudder out a violent breath, “So good for me.”

It makes you even more aroused, to know that you’re capable of returning the pleasure he gives.

Something shifts in the next moment, and he’s pulling his cock from your mouth and encouraging you into a kneeling position on your bed.

Your eyes slip shut as his mouth meets yours, something frantic inside of him now, and you’re eager and helpless to give him what he wants.

.

Billy can’t fight the predator anymore. The sensation of you sucking eagerly on his cock is too much and his control has slipped beyond his scope of reach.

Your hair is askew as he guides you onto your soft pillows, silk, to protect your gorgeous hair from damage. He pauses to look at you, your obedient eyes, willing to comply with anything he asks and it fills him with an uncontrollable power. The scent of your arousal is thick in the room, the aftertaste of your mouth and your cunt mixing on his tongue until he couldn’t extract himself from you even if he tried.

He hums, pressing his cock against your inner thigh, the heat and softness of your skin filling him with too much want. He’s fighting the predator, that pushes him to claim what was already his, what would be freely given to him if he asks.

.

His nose brushes your cheek gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” Billy asks softly, and you almost want to groan in frustration.

“Yes, please.” You say on a desperate breath, and you feel him kiss your cheek in response.

He takes your left hand in his, kissing at the tips of your fingers and you wonder if after tonight you’d be able to feel the ghost of his lips on your skin.

Fingers intertwined, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he uses his other hand to align his cock with your entrance.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks after a second, and you nod frantically, squeezing his hand and daring him to even think about stopping.

“So good for me.” He whispers against your cheek and then his cock is pressed intimately against your entrance.

He stretches you, and opens you up even further until he’s fit snugly inside of you, filling you so much that you’re not sure how you can breathe with the intrusion.

His nose brushes yours affectionately.

“How do you feel?” He asks, as if you’re capable of assembling any semblance of thought.

Your lips part, you suck in a deep breath, the very first, with his cock pressed deep inside of you.

He waits patiently for the answer.

“Good,” You breathe, “So good, Billy oh my god.” You express.

He gives a sweet little smile that manages to get you even more aroused.

“I’m glad to hear it. Ready for the rest?”

The-?

“What?” You ask obtusely.

“My cock, sweetheart, would you like the rest of it?”

You try to raise your head for some type of explanation but you don’t get very far with his body pinned against yours. His eyebrows draw together at your shocked expression.

“There’s more of you?” You whisper in astonishment.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s laughing, burying his face in your neck and chuckling away as if his cock isn’t the largest thing you’ve ever tried to take. 

His laughter is sweet though, soft and lyrical and you can’t help clenching on his cock, and hearing his laughter turn into a groan, squeezing your linked fingers.

“Yes,” He gasps, lost in the tight grip of your cunt, “Yes, there’s more of me.”

Your eyes are wide, a little afraid, anchoring yourself to him in hopes that he helps you through your fear.

“Take a big breath for me sweetheart.” he guides, with a steady, calm voice, nodding his head as you accept his guidance.

“And out.” 

You do as he says, and shudder with pleasure as your body relaxes fully, you feel him slide deeper, eyelids fluttering as you discover more and more of him.

Finally, when his hips are pressed squarely to yours, and his cock fills you beyond what you thought you were capable of, does he finally say your name on a heated gasp.

You cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his rough stubble, he closes his eyes and presses his cheek to your palm and withdraws a little.

The first rock of his hips takes your breath away on a frantic sound. You hear him grunt in response, grinding his hips against yours, not moving too much but easily working into you.

“Billy.” You sob, legs tightening around his hips, one hand still linked with his.

He leans down, seals his mouth over yours, rocks into you in slow, lilting movements. You hum against his mouth, feels his body all around you, deep inside of you, holding you hostage and protecting you from everything except himself.

“You take me so well.” He grunts, his hot breath on your lips.

His mouth trails over your cheek, he kisses sweetly at your neck and shoulders.

His pace increases, his delectable body over yours, giving you pleasure that you barely understand.

His hand releases yours for a moment, only to grip both your wrists and pin them above your head, held firm in one large hand.

His grip on your wrist hurts a little, only adds to the pleasure of him fucking you.

He can’t stop kissing you, delving his tongue past your lips and exploring your mouth while he claims your body, hips rocking faster and faster into you the more time goes by.

He reaches a depth inside of you that you’ve never felt before, fills you with himself until you’re sure you’re the most whole you’ve ever been.

His cock pumps into you, your cunt is pulsing, sending large waves of immeasurable pleasure up your spine to fill your head. You feel your thighs tremble as the euphoria makes it all the way to your toes.

He keeps that pace, probably noticing the mindless state of you, your inability to form a single word, or produce a sound that isn't a breathless moan. You feel his influence on you in the farthest reaches of your mind, giving you more pleasure than your body can handle.

Finally, the pleasure sweetened even further, and Billy, in tune with your body, speeds the rhythm of his thrusts to match your needs. You gasp, barely able to find the thoughts, your body overflowing with absolute ecstasy and you’re almost afraid of what falling over the edge with him will feel like.

“Good,” He growls lowly into your ear, a sound you’ve never heard before, untamed, unhinged, and he’s using it to give you praise.

“So good for me.” 

Your orgasm is involuntary. It’s not yours, only a response written by your body to answer his call. The sheer violence of your bliss takes your breath away, you feel your cunt clench hard around his cock, trapping him securely in place as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through you. 

Vaguely, you’re aware of him groaning, but you don’t have the headspace to focus at the very moment. Your arms pinned above your head, his lips kissing at your face and neck, bare nipples grazing his chest and his cock stretching you wide.

Your cunt spasms, your body trembles, and trembles even more when he resumes his fucking, not even waiting for your first orgasm to fully subside before he’s trying to throw you right into the throes of another.

He’s harsher now, and you love it, your body revelling in the way he seems to lose control. He raises his head, you look deeply into his dark eyes. You can’t see much thought behind his eyes either, and you become acutely aware that you might be lost inside each other.

It only makes you that more desperate for him.

.

There’s no such thing as control anymore.

Billy’s lost any semblance of it, any memory of what it was like to be sane. 

He has lost his old self, and he has found you.

All he wants now is to keep you like this, open and vulnerable on his cock for the foreseeable future. Your skin hot with bliss, little sweet cries filling his head.

He leans down, runs his tongue over the top of your breast, hears you gasp, loves the dirty way you love these things, appreciates the salty taste of your skin.

The predator in his head is synced up with him, both aspects of himself agreeing that this is where he belongs, balls deep in his mate, feeling her take everything he has to give.

He feels a completeness, that he can give you pleasure so easily, like his body was made just for you, to please you in every way possible.

He groans again, his voice beyond his control, hoping the low grovel of it doesn’t scare you, but even that makes your cunt squeeze him in satisfaction.

Yours. 

He was yours.

He would only ever be yours.

He adjusts the angle of his hips, and he watches your lips tremble and your eyes water when his cock kisses a very sensitive spot inside of you.

.

You blubber mindlessly, sharp breaths and trembling thighs and you open up to Billy and you take everything he has to give.

You cum with a sharp cry. Eyes squeezed shut, body trembling as you try to process the bliss.

His hot breath on your skin, hips speeding up and suddenly a low grunt escapes him.

You feel his cock pulsing against your hypersensitive walls, you feel his cum, filling up the deepest spots of you and you can’t help the rightness of it.

Eventually, he releases your wrists, still deep inside of you, he braces his weight on his arms so that he doesn’t crush you.

After a moment, his arms wrap around you, adjusting you slowly so that your body rests on his, head on his chest, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you.

.

He tries to make you comfortable, the biological urge for him to stay inside of you for as long as possible is something he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know exactly how to control it. 

He sighs, his orgasm still going through him, still filling you up though he doubts you can feel such subtle movements.

You burrow into him, and he hums in amusement, arms wrapping around your form, his heart pounding in his chest at how close you are.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, checking in, fingers absentmindedly reaching for the edges of your hair.

“Wrist.” You say groggily, raising your left hand to his face.

“Fuck.” He voices, his eyes landing on the subtle bruises marking your wrist, he can make out the print of his fingers where he’d curled them to grip you tightly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, pain spearing his chest at the very idea that he’d hurt you. He holds your forearm gently, examining the faint bruising.

“Loved it.” You reply simply, he can hear the sleepy inflections in your voice.

He’d hurt you… and you’d loved it?

He makes a mental note to get some ice for your wrist, and to check it in the morning to make sure it’s doing better.

Now, he places a gentle kiss to the little bruise, feeling the abnormal heat of it on his lips.

“I’m so sorry.” He says to you.

You hum.

“Loved it.” You repeat.

.

"How is that? Is that better?" Billy asks, a little towel wrapped around a bag ice cubes pressed to your wrist.

You hum lazily, peeking an eye open to look up at him. You’re on your side, facing him, your left hand between you, bent to be in a more comfortable position. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” You mumble, feeling sleep wrap itself carefully around your sated body. Your cunt is sore, quivering still from his use. 

“Just a little uncomfy.” You try to explain.

He looks extremely concerned for a brief moment.

“I’m really sorry,” He tries to apologise for the fifth time.

You smile, shuffling your body closer to his, watching him focus on trying to keep his makeshift ice pack on your wrist. You kick a leg over his hip, not liking that he’d taken the time to put his boxers back on after he’d slipped from you earlier to grab the ice.

“Billy,” You murmur somberly, “I trust you, and if I really didn’t like it, I would have said something.”

“But I hurt you. Our first time together and I hurt you.” He says, his dark eyes so open and sad, hints of a frown turning down the corners of his lips.

You smile, your other hand rubbing his bicep and shoulder affectionately.

“I loved every second of it.” You whisper, unable to keep your mind conscious for a second more. You blink slowly, leaning into his body even more, heaving in a great big sigh.

“Please don’t leave.” You ask, as you tumble into unconsciousness.

.

He leans in, kissing the top of your head, and then your cold wrist, finally understanding that in your eyes, you don’t blame him.

His sweet girl, happy and asleep in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, curling around you, the panther purring inside of him as he falls asleep beside you.

.

His eyes flutter open when his phone vibrates on your bedside table. He’d pulled it out of his pants pocket and dropped it there on his way to get you ice. 

You’ve crawled your way mostly onto his body, your head resting securely on his shoulder, he somehow still manages to be holding the melted ice pack on your wrist that rests on his chest, though he’s not sure if it even makes much of a difference right now. 

He’s groggy, not sure if he’s ever been that deeply asleep before, absolutely comfortable, the very right temperature, the scent of strawberries wrapped around him.

He drops the towel- wrapped ice pack onto the floor beside the bed, rubbing his eyes as his phone continues to vibrate. 

He reaches for it, pauses for a moment when his movement jostles you. He holds you tight as his fingers wrap around his phone.

He swallows, squints, slides to answer, keeping his voice soft so that he doesn’t wake you.

“Russo.” He answers automatically.

“Bill.” Frank says, and it’s all Billy needs to understand that something is very wrong.

“What is it?” Billy asks, “What happened?”

“My boy’s missing.” Frank responds.

.

You shiver with the cold, tugging your blanket up and over your shoulder and letting out a sigh.

In your sleepy state, the memory of last night comes back to you.

You smile, extending a hand out to reach for the warm body that had been nearby when you’d fallen asleep last night.

“Billy?” You grumble out, when your hand meets nothing but soft pillows.

No answer.

God, you think, if he left this time I am never going to speak to him again.

You peek an eye open, sighing when there is no deliciously gorgeous man lying mostly naked beside you. 

A groan slips past your lips, you extend your body out, stretching this way and that and huffing when you accidentally kick one of your pillows off of your bed.

You weren’t going to let your hope plummet just yet, maybe he was just in the bathroom, or the kitchen, maybe he was whipping you up a cup of coffee right now.

You say his name louder this time.

After a moment of no response, you climb out of bed, searching for him, finding your apartment empty of him.

You stand in your living room, trying to reason with yourself, trying to find answers for questions that you could barely formulate.

Was this going to be like the movies? When you’d just lost hope, he would pop in with a breakfast bagel and a latte and apologise for leaving you?

You swallow, going back to find your phone and dialling his number.

Voicemail.

Your throat tightens.

Surely he hadn’t made you sweet promises last night only to break them?

When your second attempt at calling him has the same outcome, your mind spins to a final conclusion.

He’d left you.

Again.

.

.

.

#werepanther!billy russo #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo smut #billy russo fic #the punisher #monster!billy russo #monster!billyrusso #monster!billy

[ryomens-vixen]

Snakebites

Contains: Angst, NSFW, aftercare, hurt feelings, drug use, alcohol use. If I'm missing any lmk

Author's note: This is based on a dream I had of Gojo recently so don't hurt me in the comments ❤

Word count: it's a joke at this point pookie. 🤦🏾‍♀️

"She made me want to plan out my last days on earth here with her.."

"And on that day..."

"Where I, Satoru Gojo—"

"I thought to myself man I screwed up big time..–"

"I was right, but I had someone waiting for me.. That was until I didn't."

"I knew Nanami would survive anything, I could survive anything."

"Yet even in what everyone thought would be my final moments, even after, you still chose him."

"Am I.. Not enough?”

“Ah— Na- nami…Daddy~”

“C'mon what the hell does he have that I don't?”

“Fuck.. So good to me”

“Goddamn it…”

Long after the Shibuya Incident, Everyone did their absolute best to go back to the way things used to be, some celebrated, some mourned over comrades, some even found their way back into the arms of another. Shoko and Meimei were reunited with their boys Nanami, Suguru, and Satoru who had given everyone the biggest heart attack of their lives, next to Nanami. It was long before the incident was forgotten about by the public. But for those that gave it their all, fought until their last breath… was more than just a memory. 

The air around both of you was thick and hit with desire accompanied by the sounds of skin slapping, hoarse groans followed by heavy moaning. 

Your bodies glistening with sweat— what round was it again? Three? Maybe four? You couldn't remember all you could think about was how Nanami was absolutely incredible in bed. 

Bullying your g spot for another tantalizing orgasm. You're sitting on top of him back against his chest, legs over his own, your left arm reaching behind Nanami’s neck as both of you watched his cock piston in and out of your warm wet hole at a pace you couldn't be bothered to match.

The way Nanami made such passionate love to your body was a sight to behold. 

Sometimes he wished he could just set up a few cameras at different angles to capture these moments together. Maybe he'd keep them to himself or maybe he'd show them off to someone whom he knows that craves your love and affection. 

But none of that matters right now, All he cares about is getting another orgasm out of you and burying his seed in that sweet pussy of yours. 

The way his hips moved uncontrollably you'd think he's trying to put a baby in you.. He would if you weren't on the pill that is. 

That way nobody would have you, not even Satoru or Suguru. Yeah Nanami knew you were playing the field, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help being a little selfish- he just wanted to keep you barefoot and pregnant. 

Pumping his thick Two toned cock in and out of your squelching pussy, mounting you with your knees pressed towards your chest, body folded in half. Sweat drips from his nose, feverishly pounding into you with the wildest expression you’ve ever seen on him, determined to make you cum. 

“Nan..ami.. T- Too Much—”  You were so overstimulated each time the head of his cock kissed your cervix sending a tingling sensation from your pussy up to the spine. 

“You can take it baby, You can take it~ Take it for Daddy, Good- fuckin- Girl-” he emphasized with each thrust. 

Meanwhile your phone on the other side of the room kept lighting up with message, after message from a certain someone. 

You'll have to answer later, too busy getting the best cock of your life. 

◦•●◉✿ 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜'𝑠 𝑃𝑜𝑣✿◉●•◦

[Future Wifey]

Hey, can we talk? - 3:47 pm. 

Are you free tonight, maybe tomorrow? - 4:15 pm. 

Look I just want to fuckin know what's going on between us I'm not getting any younger, y/n! - 4:30 pm. 

I'm sorry it's just.. I don't like sharing you with anyone. I just want what we used to have. - 5:00 pm. 

Hey, answer the phone. - 5:25 pm. 

Are you fucking him? Seriously?! - 5:26 pm. 

Y/N answer the goddamn phone.. -5:30 pm.

 The more your phone buzzed with Satoru's constant calls and text messages the more Nanami fucked into you. 

It was like a fun game to him, if he called, Nanami would keep fucking you into yet another orgasm, if he sends a text he'll switch positions either way you're getting taken straight to pound town and he doesn't plan on stopping until you're an incoherent mess in his arms. 

What orgasm were you on? Your 5th? 6th? Even Nanami lost count and was so addicted to your gushing wet pussy it's almost like his hips  wouldn't allow him to stop even if he wanted to.

TooMuchTooMuchTooM-much D-addy! Ah! The way you dug crescent moons into Nanami's back was so rewarding to him. Leaving scratch marks that drew blood was enough to make him cum. 

He was a mess himself bear hugging you as he fucked into you, thrusts becoming sloppy and more off beat by the minute. SoFuckinGood so fuckin- fuck fuck fuck- c'mon cum for daddy. Cum baby. Cum. With a few more thrusts the both of you were a moaning, groaning, quivering mess. Your pussy feels full and warm with Nanami's cum leaking out. 

While Nanami laid on top of you showing no signs of moving anytime soon. His cock still too sensitive to be pulled out, was still buried deep inside of you. Your breaths mixed together once your lips found each other in an embrace. 

Why don't you spend the night.. Just the two of us? Before Nanami could even get an answer out of you he heard snoring. With a smile on his face he proceeded to gently pull out of you after planting a small kiss on the nape of your neck. 

He's such a sweet man running a nice hot both for you after fucking you to sleep. Nanami was always the best at giving aftercare. 

◦•●◉✿ 𝑆𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑢’𝑠 𝑃𝑜v ✿◉●•◦

Suguru had finally come back to his shared apartment with his long time best friend Satoru. After opening the door his nose was met with the smell of weed. There's no way Satoru lit one up without him; they always smoked together especially after a long day of Sorcery. Well, actually that was before the incident , but now Suguru has retired along with nanami. 

Satoru on the other hand wasn't quite given the option to retire as the strongest the higher ups needed him and his power and so did his clan. But Suguru didn't expect to come home to a complete and utter mess. 

Satoru sprawled out on the couch an empty bottle of sake on the coffee table, half of a blunt in his mouth, his blindfold covering his puffy red eyes as he had been crying earlier after receiving not one call or text from you in the past hour or two. 

Suguru didn't say a word to him, just quietly sat next to him giving him a pat on the thigh. 

He hadn't a clue what could be going on with satoru today, but if it had him like this then he was too afraid to even ask. He just sat there with him in silence, but took the blunt from his lips to smoke it himself. He also had a rough day.. Satoru wasn't the only one trying to get in contact with you. 

Tag list: @blkkizzat @honeeslust @biscuitsngravie @littlemochabunni @halosdiary @halobuns @gojos-thot-patrol-main @oreo-creampie @callm3senpaii

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #geto x reader #nanami kento #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you

[ackerfics]

i carry your heart with me (i carry it with my heart): gojo satoru

— i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)

gojo satoru x reader

notes: first time writing for jjk and it's for our pretty boy !! based on that one b-99 scene between jake and amy

being on the same year level with gojo satoru means having to put up with the spontaneity of his man-child tendencies. while it is true that he is the pinnacle of the entirety of the jujutsu society from his first wail to the world --- a god amongst mortals; tipping the equilibrium with his very existence, there are moments embroidered in between his rambunctious nature that makes him almost human. key word being almost. such as betting on the most random missions to prove a point like regular teenagers.

"am i going to regret this bet, suguru?" you ask the person yaga assigned to be your pair in capturing the rest of the 2nd-grade curses loitering around the area, with the possibility of a 1st-grade intermingling with them, which puts the entire chase into a total of nine curses. you two are in one of the more desolated areas of tokyo, having split up from the usual group of four your school boasted since the start of first year.

before starting the circle of exorcism your group is about to unleash on these curses, satoru used this opportunity to dangle a proposition between you two, a tradition before embarking on a mission.

it goes this way this time: if he exorcised more curses than you, you're going to do anything he wants (nothing sexual, but judging from the grin on his face, you nearly shivered). he emphasized his words with those black sunglasses of his reflecting your astounded face. you instantly felt the world cave, because your life is on the line. why would you ever date such a person who has no regard to safety and is always known to be obnoxious to the point that you wished you were never a jujutsu sorcerer in the first place? however, if you win this round (which you never won since the first time you two started this whole charade), he's going to be a bit more honest with you. for other people, your condition is as simple as letting impulsivity carry on their choices; but for satoru, it's a moment of weakness. you were left stunned when you saw the tiniest budge of hesitation flicker on his face, almost as if he knew what you meant in your conditions, but just as quickly as you saw it, it vanished. so, he wears false confidence like a second skin and accepts the bet with a handshake, partnering up with shoko instead of suguru. he said something along the lines that you need all the help you can get and that because he's so good, he's going to give suguru to you to at least even out the two parties. what an asshole. he doesn't even give you a chance to utter a rebuttal because he vanished in thin air with shoko waving and pumping her fist at you.

"well," suguru draws out the word.

you throw him a look. "oh, come on, i know that tone --- i'm going to lose my monthly allowance, right? i know he's going to ask me to buy anything sweet he can find on our next mission."

suguru hums with that smile of his, never dimming, never fading, and always warm to the touch. he takes out one hand from his pocket and pats you on the crown of your head. "i'm with you on this one."

you look up at him. "what?"

"i want to see satoru stop all this dancing around he's been doing with you. i mean, the rest of us are even confused if he really does hold feelings for you or not. i think it will do him some good for once in his life."

you look down on the gravel, your hair doing its job covering your features.

ever since you introduced yourself to the other first years in the tokyo branch of jujutsu high, satoru has always sparked this inexplicable interest surrounding you. you like to think it's because of your upbringing, being from one of the more noble jujutsu families who bears the technique of forming contracts with curses, very much like how suguru goes about his technique. the difference between you and suguru lies in the fact that most of the curses your family has made a contract with are special grade, embodiments of the japanese folklore rather than the regular blobs and flies; and that everything is consensual between the sorcerer and the curse. so, stepping inside the room housing three other teenagers like yourself, the flare of your cursed energy captures their attention, one of which possessing the legendary six eyes, having sparkled like no other the moment he placed them on your figure. this rather random fascination of you he had since day one morphed into something that of courting, as yaga once called it (quite so done with it actually), since the boy started calling all the most absurd adjectives and phrases and attached them to your name. beautiful, pretty, heavenly, utterly graceful, stealer of my heart, owner of my attention ... darling, honey, kikufuku, mochi ... anything exhausting really. everything was so abrupt and out-of-the-blue that you had no time dwelling on when this all started.

you now want it to stop.

it doesn't do well because it's blurring all the lines you've drawn between you and your classmates. you don't even have the time to think about the number of times a passerby remarks how wonderful of a couple you two look (any elderly people really) and gojo would boast that yes, my girlfriend is so beautiful and i am lucky enough to have her, ma'am; we started dating last year; it was love at first sight --- you just want to punch him.

then comes the unexpected, lingering touches he brushes against your skin; a pinky finger intertwined with yours, his hand lightly hovering at the small of your back, his knuckles caressing your face and remarking how you look nice for the day, an invading hand tucking a stray bundle of hair behind your ear, nearing his face so that you can whisper something to his ear without any difficulty, and anything that sets your heart ablaze. not to mention he looks at you with something indescribable; eyes reflecting you and only you and sunglasses sliding from the bridge of his nose. it's all softness, no rough edges like how he is with suguru or shoko, and he treats you as such. he once mentioned you are his haven, the only person he doesn't mind turning his infinity off for and the only person to touch him without having the need to let him know.

"i think it won't be good for him if he tells you how he really feel," suguru's voice takes you away from contemplation. "at most, you would benefit from it as well." you turn to him and he wraps an arm around you for good measure. "i want my friends to find solace in our bleak part of the world. and hey, if you two do get together, i will be so proud!"

"yeah, right."

"i would!"

your two groups are tied.

the last curse is right at the end of the intersecting alleyway and what sets your blood pumping is the figure of gojo running from the opposite entrance, shoko cheering for him at the back. great, he managed to convince shoko that his conditions are worth supporting. you grit your teeth and you push forward with more speed that you ever did in a physical activity. god, you're definitely going to feel the repercussions of pushing yourself too hard after this.

feeling the taut connection of your contracted curse, you summon her, "amanozako, go."

the image of a beastly woman slithered from within you, hungry to satisfy her cravings of lesser curses. you watch with narrowed eyes as gojo laughs, teleporting himself closer to the last curse you four have on the list.

then, the most bizarre thing happens.

you somehow reach the curse first than him, leading to your contracted curse to swallow the target in one swoop. she disappears from view and you can only see him --- standing there with a huge grin on his face, the sky of his eyes shining brighter than a beacon.

you blink, breath shuddering from all the running. "w-why--?"

gojo shrugs. "you have it first."

"but you're faster."

he glances behind shoko, who knowingly nods her head. his eyes flicker back at you. "i like you."

all air seems to escape you. everything is silent and all you can hear is the thudding rhythm of your heartbeat. you're pretty sure you look like an imbecile with your mouth open in shock but with the way gojo stares at you from over his sunglasses, one will think he's staring at the most pulchritudinous being he has ever laid his eyes on --- the first blossoming of spring in april. because even with the others lingering in the background, gojo has his six eyes focused on you. you can't even manage to utter a word when he repeats those three goddamn words that will haunt your daydreams.

"i like you, [name]. i'm willing to lose against you if that's what it takes to say my feelings. figured this is the better route compared to the cowardly one i wanted."

"thank me, you idiot!"

"ignore her," gojo casually says after hearing shoko's words, his steps taking him closer to you with his hands snug inside the pockets of his slacks. once he stops in front of you, he takes one of his hands from his pants and brushes the back of his knuckles over your cheek. butterflies seem to bloom on the areas where he leaves behind his wordless declarations. "so, what do you say, sweetheart? wanna give this a shot?"

#— rory's passages 🌼 #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x you

[carlos-in-glasses]

Happy Sunday! I hope you've all been having a great weekend🩷

This is from what is currently known as BJ Fic. It's going to be silly and serious and sexy and I'm excited to share it hopefully sometime next month!

“I can still feel you inside me from last night,” TK says, his voice warm and silky with lingering tiredness. Carlos wonders if he slept much at all despite the exhaustion of yesterday, the hands-on emergency they dealt with that caused TK’s stitches to reopen, the mighty adrenaline of them becoming an official couple while green and purple light collapsed towards them from the dark sky.

“I can still feel you–” TK repeats, rolling his ass to really emphasize it.

Carlos knows TK can feel the bulge of his stiffening c*ck beneath the sheets – knows it by the way his eyes glaze, the way he licks his lips and whimpers. “The way you f*cked me so deep.” The tip of TK’s exposed c*ck shines as it ticks upwards like the hand of a clock, growing out far beyond the flap of his boxers. Full hardness without even jerking himself or Carlos touching him. He’s hard like this from just thinking. Speaking. Remembering.

Open tags and tags below:

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @heartstringsduet @lemonlyman-dotcom @thisbuildinghasfeelings @liminalmemories21 @paperstorm @ladytessa74 @orchidscript @strandnreyes @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @welcometololaland @noxsoulmate @redshirt2 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @herefortarlos @goodways @my-little-tilly @fallout-mars @freneticfloetry @honeybee-taskforce @sznofthesticks @carlos-tk @kiwichaeng @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @basilsunrise @whatsintheboxmh @sugdenlovesdingle @ambiguouspenny @chicgeekgirl89 @sanjuwrites @alrightbuckaroo @never-blooms @lightningboltreader @bonheur-cafe - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

#Seven sentence sunday #Smutty Sunday #Cig fic #my fic #BJ fic #tarlos fanfic #Tarlos fic

[artbyblastweave]

Hey I was wondering since you are very familiar with superhero comics/media and I am not: I remember reading on TVTropes about how there was some comic arc where Superman is basically forced to kill the Joker/does it under extremely understandable circumstances, but then immediately jumps off the slippery slope and becomes a horrible mass murderer. SO, I was wondering if Amy in Worm is a commentary/take on this, on what kind of warped understanding of morality taught by someone's family environment would one have to have to actually believe breaking one's principles once while being forced to by a serial killer would make you into an irredeemable villain forever, and what kind of trauma and warped understanding would you have to have for that to actually be TRUE and for you to actually do horrible things afterward. Emphasizing that that kind of moral arc is not how normal humans work and there would have to be very unusual circumstances for it to happen. But since I don't know about superhero comics I can't really elaborate on this, so I wonder what you think of the idea.

So the specific arc you're talking about was Injustice: Gods Among Us, and the tie-in comics produced as a backstory for that video game- which came out in 2013 onward, so the times don't line up for Amy to be a commentary on that arc specifically. In particular, Superman has basically the exact opposite issue that Amy does; he killed Joker because he murdered an entire city, and he justifies his subsequent slide towards tyranny on the grounds that he wasn't being proactive enough to stop things like that beforehand. Kind of a common refrain in "Superman loses it" stories- refer in particular to the "I did love being a hero. But if this is where it leads, I'm done with it" scene from the Justice Lords arc of the old Justice League cartoon. (Batman is occasionally painted as having a "murder-is-like-potato-chips" problem, refraining from killing because he wouldn't be able to stop. Depends on the writer, though.) What Amy absolutely is commenting on is what I think was a very pervasive idea in cape comics in the years when Worm was being formulated- the idea of the hero/villain binary as a real and meaningful thing, two meaningful categories of people which you can switch between as a discreet and meaningful action. Black Knight, Hawkeye, Rogue- all superheroes who started as supervillains, two distinct statuses which they held. Characters like Deadpool and Harley Quinn start as villains and drift towards a third-position antiheroic middle-ground that's treated as noteworthy for not really falling into either camp- in turn sort of generating what basically amounts to a third cluster, a coherent trinary. (A lot of 90s anti-heroes reifying the binary in how they're marketed as violating it.) Not actually many heroes I can think of who've gone full villain and had that stick, but definitely heroes who've flipped for a time in a meaningful way- Hal Jordan becoming Parallax sticks in my head. And at least since the 80s you've had writers making post-modern gags about powered people who opt out entirely and have day jobs using their powers for something mundane. (The X-Men are all over the place in here.) And subdued but gradually swelling in popularity is where Worm lands- the idea that what you're actually looking at here is a mob of agents, with their own granular agendas, alliances, outlooks, lines in the sand, and relationship to the law-as-written- that when a hero starts acting villainous or a villain does something heroic, when they approach a fifty-fifty split without actually changing their label, it's an indictment of the idea you can actually broadly group them so neatly in the first place. And there's a lot of clunky dialogue in parts of Worm where characters are treating the hero/villain binary as a real tangible thing- "hero behavior, villain behavior-" in a way that seems hilariously naïve and awkward from where I'm sitting in 2023, and indeed was probably kind of a no-duh moment even in 2011. Anti-heroes had been around for a while. But I do think that those sequences were written in conversation with an assumption about the genre that wasn't totally dead in the water at the time, an assumption that Amy holds as a way of showing how treating the categories as innate will drive you nuts when they fail to model reality. I genuinely believe that the MCU and DCEU have killed this binary dead in the general consciousness, though. These days a "superhero" is whoever the protagonist of the movie is, and the idea that that can encompass a whole range of moralities is pretty strongly cemented. A supervillain is whoever fights the star of the movie once and then dies. It's whoever is creating a problem right that second, not a social role you hold for a prolonged period. In this way and some others, Worm hasn't been commenting on the dominant paradigm of superheroism in some time- it's becoming kind of a period piece.

#wildbow #parahumans #worm #worm analysis #meta #thoughts #ask #asks #some comparison to be made to gender by someone I'm sure #not my bailiwick however

[000marie198]

Frontiers really drove home the fact that Sonic's friends are his friends first and foremost, not followers or team of sidekicks. They are his family, his partners in crime, especially Tails. That with all of them together they're a formidable team but they are not just side characters in Sega verse who only support the hero's role. They are the heroes just as much. They'd hold strong when he couldn't, they are pillars he could fall back on just like he is someone they can fall back on. Equals. A family.

This game fixes everything the few past games did to their roles and characters and emphasizes these mobians are not cheer leaders, they are front liners, they are not simply support characters, they are their own person.

Knuckles isn't just a guardian, he's a friend, a brother, a protector, and the last of his kind and someone who deserves to live his life to the fullest instead of keeping watch day and night. He deserves to travel without a threat of world ending, he deserves to meet people, make friends, try grapes of different regions, take day offs, be the child he was robbed of being.

Amy is not just a fangirl chasing after someone she has a crush on. She is kind, compassionate and strong girl who believes in the good in the world and wants to help everyone, show the world the wonders and beauty in small things that go ignored. She has grown up so much.

And Tails, sweet little Tails has always been just as much of a hero as Sonic. He is not the sidekick, he was never the sidekick, that was what people thought him as and he used to see himself as. Sonic never saw him as the sidekick, Sonic sees him as an equal, as a brother, he always had. Tails is such a wonderful child, he could invent things that can help the planet at a massive scale, he can make whole tech companies, he can make new discoveries, advance science so much farther than one could anticipate, can command whole squadrons of jets, he is loved by people and tiny critters of the planet just as much, he is the hero and he deserves to be acknowledged as that.

Being stuck in a limbo gave them all the time to think about what they all want to pursue in life, on discovering their full potential, reaching far across the new frontiers, that they all have the potential for so much more. That they don't have to think of themselves as followers, they are equals. They are a team.

As for Sonic? This game shows that Sonic isn't just a hero who saves the world and helps people because he is nice or a good person. While those are true, saving the world or helping because he was nice wasn't why he was going day and night on no food and zero sleep and constantly at move and slowly getting more and more cyber corrupted, nearing the brink of death. He did it for his friends. Not just because he is a nice person or it's in his nature. If that were the case, he would've approached everything differently, he wouldn't be anxious to hurry on setting the others free but still calm and chill while talking to his friends, he wouldn't be constantly worrying about his brother, he wouldn't be reluctant to help the Kocos. He was listening to the mysterious voice he knew nothing about and proceeded doing everything it told him even though he doesn't trust a mysterious stranger that easily, even though what it told him was slowly destroying him, because that was the only way he knew of which could set his friends free. He didn't know any other way and did something that kept taking a lot out of him (like dude literally looked dead on his feet during the later half of the game, clutching his torso, walking slow, subtle panting) just to save his friends. He's a hero yes, he has endured many things and gone without sleep in the past yes, he helps people because that's just like him yes, but from how anxious and reluctant he seemed when it came to helping out Kocos, it was clear he was more worried about saving his friends than anything. Sonic in almost the entirety of the game had no drive to save the world or anything, he didn't even know whether the world was even in danger or not, he wasn't a hero in this game, he didn't have the role of a hero in this game.

He was a friend.

This was Sonic with his hero mask off. Tired, concerned, at wits and strength's end, enduring, probably knowing he might not survive that corruption but smiling because then his friends would be free and he'd be darned before any of them gets hurt. He was willing to die to set his friends free. In Unleashed, he told Chip, "Do I need a reason to help out a friend?" But even in Unleashed he was on the mission of saving the world. This time? This game added lore and emotions and character growth and themes of living and acceptance and peace and perseverance and hope, but at the core of it all, it was centered on family.

For Sonic, it was centered on protecting his family. For Tails, Knuckles and Amy, it was centered on growing to their full potential but still protecting their friend. For Sage, it was about protecting her family. And what's funny is that she wasn't even the villain or had any intention to harm in the first place, all her warnings were honest. She was attempting to get him to see reason and have him leave so he wouldn't get corrrupted and so the world doesn't get placed in danger.

As Sage said, "Both of us will do anything to protect those who are precious to us."

He'd do anything for his friends. And they are precious to him, more than anyone or anything else. More than the people, more than the inhabitants of Starfall Islands, more than chaos and Kocos, more than the ancients, more than the world. He helped save the world from The End but he wouldn't have been able to that in the first if it weren't for his friends. They not only set him free, they also gave him drive to continue. The first thing he says after being cured was, "I will not let you down." Sonic's friends are precious to him.

....

The emotions, the dialogue, the story, the characterization, the lore, the music... This game is the revival of this franchise. Even its title is perfect for the storyline as well as lore.

Also, my heart hurts from so many emotions.

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #sage #sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers spoilers #sonic frontiers sage #the only gripe i might hold for this game is Tails decision to leave and live away from his brother #i mean. he can live up to his full potential & grow & all. even hold back from following after Sonic but they didn't have to separate #i mean. Sonic was still worried. that was his little brother. an orphan. an 8 to 10 year old child. #he didn't need to go off on his own to prove his worth to himself #that's all though. i can't handle two b3st friends who have an unbreakable bond separating. hurts every time #miles tails prower

[chronicbeans]

Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 3)

It's been a few weeks, now... You feel like something is wrong...

TW: Mentions of Hacking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🗞️ Daniel has been having more and more mail sent his way. The time you all spend in Finn's house, restoring Welcome Home merchandise and media, is getting longer and longer. Your mother has been getting more and more snippy about it all.

🗞️ You grab an old book titled "Happy Birthday, Barnaby!" Opening it up reveals how it's Barnaby's birthday and Wally, Julie, and Sally are all planning to throw a surprise party for him. What you have found with almost every single item that has Wally in it is that he is, most of the time, looking at you. Well, the person looking at the material. Even on the page where everyone is telling Barnaby happy birthday. The rest of the neighbors are all looking at Barnaby, smiling and clapping as he blows out some birthday candles. Wally, however, is looking at you. His body is turned to face Barnaby, but his head is turned towards you, his eyes locked onto you.

🗞️ You put the book down, asking the rest of the group "Wally seems rather odd, huh? He's like... my favorite, but he is very eerie. Do you have any theories as to why he stares at us?" Amy makes a face of concentration, before saying "Well, Wally is meant to make a connection with the children watching the show. It is probably because they want to emphasize that connection, or make it stronger through eye contact." She then clasps her hands together, continuing "I really wish they did that with Julie! She is so cute!" "HOLY-! WHAT?!"

🗞️ Everyone looks over to Finn, who has been looking at the Welcome Home Restoration Project blog on his laptop. His eyes grow wide as he says "Y'all, I think someone has hacked us or something! Look! I found this link beneath the Wally character file on the neighborhood page! It leads to... this..."

🗞️ He turns the laptop around, showing you all a dark page. After a few moments, an image fades in of Wally, sketched in red, facing one of Home's windows. Home's large eye shakes, with red seemingly leaking from it. Wally's kneeling down, his left arm outstretched.

🗞️ You can't help but watch and think. Why is Wally kneeling like that? Why is Home watching Wally so intently? Is Wally inside or outside of Home? Why is it so dark? You ask Finn "Was there anything else odd on our blog?" Finn nods "A bunch of out of place letters."

🗞️ Daniel looks around, before saying "I'll check it out. Maybe this could be the work of whoever is sending us this stuff? The letters could mean something. Amy, you continue working on restoring the art. (Y/N), you can manage the guestbook. We can all work together to try to figure out what this all means."

🗞️ Amy tilts her head, before asking "Should we all like... I don't know... pick a set of characters to research? I feel like it would be difficult for any of us to remember so much about every character when we are learning about them through little dribbles of content. We might get confused and mix them up with one another." Daniel thinks about it, before looking over to you. "What do you think about that idea? I don't want to just say yes to it. This is all very interesting, so I don't know if focusing on a couple characters will make some of us feel left out..."

🗞️ You find yourself immediately responding. It is almost as if it were an instinctual reaction. "I will focus on Wally, Home, and Barnaby." Daniel's eyes widen a bit at how blunt and quickly you responded to his question. He slowly nods "Alright... I'll focus on Frank, Howdy, and Eddie..." Amy decides to focus on Julie, Sally, and Poppy. Finn shrugs, saying that he will just stick with the blog, and that any remaining characters you all find out about will fall onto him.

🗞️ You take some of the restored media with you when you go home. It is all about Wally, Home, and/or Barnaby. Your mother seems to have already gone to bed by the time you get to the house.

🗞️ Quietly stepping up the stairs, you enter your room. It's a bit of a mess, due to how you spend all your free time at Finn's house these days. You keep forgetting to clean it. Placing the pile of papers and books onto your desk, you get a text from Daniel. It simply reads, in all capitals, "GO TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD PAGE ON YOUR PHONE."

🗞️ You quickly do so, the unspoken rule between the group being that texts in all capitals conveys an extreme seriousness that must not be ignored. In cases like these, it is the equivalent of STAT.

🗞️ You go to the neighborhood page on the blog. You are shocked to find that every link is messed up, almost as if they were moved upwards. The image of Home, as well, has been moved to reveal a dark void either behind or beneath the red house. Within that void is a small, white spiral.

🗞️ You don't know why, but you feel a chill looking at it. You can't look away, either. It's kind of like it has infected your brain, causing your mind to spiral, as well. Thoughts and questions fill it to the brim. It is so hard to do so, but after a few minutes, you manage to break yourself away from the void, and go to bed.

#Welcome Home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

[ineffable-endearments]

There seems to have been a little meta-commentary in Good Omens 2 about priorities.

Priorities? Is that the right term? Well, that's what I'm going with for now.

Anyway, there seems to be some meta-commentary about people's priorities being off. Aziraphale's priorities being off, with the whole cotillion ball. The audience's priorities being off.

Or maybe a better way to put it is that our priorities are premature. There's nothing wrong with them in themselves, but we've skipped some important issues that have to be addressed first.

Think about it - there are so many moments that look "fanservicey" on the surface, but that end up being problematic for the plot (the I'm Sorry dance), a moment of disconnect (the dance at the cotillion ball), or that simply foreshadow the sadness of the ending (Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy playing, but omitting the part about dining at the Ritz).

No, no, I'm not suggesting the creative team tailored an entire section of a story to address fandom trends; they were just telling the best story they could, universally, period. None of that stuff would be in there if it wasn't in the service of something much bigger. I'm also not suggesting that this commentary is a lecture, some sort of condescending finger-wag; more on that later.

But you can't deny that when all the pieces come together, the story resonates with that thing in us anyway - the thing in us that says, "I know it's Armageddon and I know the world is ending, but Aziraphale and Crowley really ought to have a romantic dance about it." And then the story tells us, "Nope. They can't do that yet."

Here's the other thing, though: even as it is told "no," that deep desire to see love as an action, love as the whole point, is validated. It is also treated with kindness and respect. Yes! Even through the sad ending of the season!

Through the dangers that Crowley and Aziraphale face in Season 2, the narrative patiently explains all the reasons why they can't be soft and romantic just yet. Their trauma histories won't allow it. Their world won't allow it. These are real, pressing problems. In fact, they're more real and pressing than I thought they were even in Season 1! Season 2 emphasizes just how much Crowley and Aziraphale were never going to get away from Heaven and Hell without a brutal fight of some kind. At the end of Season 1, I sometimes thought, "Oh, the great bureaucracy of the universe really doesn't care about these two, or even about Earth; if they really wanted to be together, they could be. And maybe Heaven and Hell will just lose interest in Earth." And Season 2 says, "Actually, here are a bunch of scenes demonstrating that they desperately want to be together, and here are a bunch of dangerous situations illustrating why they can't."

But at the same time, the love is there, in both Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley loves Aziraphale so much that he can't think of anything but safety for their new way of life; Aziraphale loves Crowley so much that he simply cannot consider that they haven't arrived at their happy ending yet. That love is the beating heart between our narrative's wings, the purring motor* in our narrative's Bentley. It's there, and it matters. The love matters so deeply.

I don't know. Maybe "priorities" was not in fact the right word to choose at the beginning there. Because there is no implication that there is anything wrong with caring most of all about love. It's just that love is a complicated journey, and you can't skip over the journey part of it.

*(Not my metaphor. Originally from Amy Gravino; too good to leave out.)

#good omens #good omens 2 #go s2 #good omens 2 spoilers

[generic-sonic-fan]

Fic idea that won't leave my head despite my continued insistence that I'm not going to write it (Bad dad Eggman warning)-

It's a Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games fic. Bowser and Eggman are hanging out, villain solidarity and all that.

Metal Sonic walks in. Eggman precedes to pause his conversation with Bowser to absolutely scream at Metal for coming in third place in the 100m sprint. The whole nine yards. "I built you to be SUPERIOR!" and all that. He then orders Metal back to the training area to practice clear through the night 'til the next morning.

He then turns back to Bowser and says, "you were right! Kids are difficult!"

And from that moment Bowser makes it his mission to adopt Metal Sonic at all costs.

Just one problem- nobody believes him.

The Mario gang insists that it's none of their business. There's a truce between heroes and villains during the games, after all, and Peach isn't interested in pissing off what she sees as Mobian sovereign who's been known to mess with cross-dimensional shenanigans before.

So, to the surprise of everyone, Bowser then goes to Sonic to mention the problem- only for an apathetic Sonic to emphasize that he's already given Metal enough second chances by now and that frankly it's his own fault if Eggman's mean to him. Most of the rest of the Sonic gang seem to agree with this- with the distinct exception of Amy, but even she's hesitant to stir up trouble during the games. She suggests that if Bowser nicely talked to Eggman about all this, maybe Eggman would treat Metal Sonic better!

But of course, Bowser already gave the dress-down of the century to Eggman the very moment after he sent Metal Sonic away. Did Eggman listen? Of course not.

But we all know that Bowser is nothing if but persistent. He also happens to be the resident expert on kidnapping people. . .

Step 1: Bowser got his kids together and asked them to help him befriend Metal. So now Metal's got this menagerie of Koopas suddenly taking an interest in him and he doesn't really know how to deal with it. Other kids? They think he's cool and not a failure? They invite him to hang out and do fun things? But of course, Eggman prohibits "fraternizing with the enemy", but Metal finds ways to get around this order anyway.

Step 2: have the Koopa kids teach Metal a koopa sign language- one of the kids, Lemmy, already uses this sign language because he's nonverbal, so it's not too hard for the rest of the kids plus Bowser himself to sneak in a few lessons behind Eggman's back.

Step 3: once Metal is conversational, Bowser asks Metal if he'd like a new papa who won't scream at him so much.

Step 4: realize in horror as Metal explains that he can't leave- Eggman's programming won't allow him.

Step 5: Bowser asks Amy to ask Tails how to get the subservient programming out of Metal's head. Tails then provides a small USB plug-in that'll give him remote access connection once plugged into Metal's systems so that he can undo the programming.

Step 6: kidnapping time!

Step ???: realize that Metal would actually prefer to be a girl. Bowser's daughters/GNC kids then proceed to dress her up in the blackest, spikiest clothes and accessories they have. Metal adores it.

Step 7: ruin the entire Olympic games setup as Eggman threatens violence against whoever stole his robot.

Step 8: Metal gives her original "dad" the finger as she jumps into the portal back to the Koopa kingdom with her much cooler new family.

Uhhhh skip a few steps in here as the whole Bowser family goes no contact with the rest of either gang for a bit. They don't care that they ruined the Olympic games, not when they got a cool new daughter/sister out of the deal. Eventually the Mario gang comes around and forgives Bowser for ruining the games. They then invite Metal go-karting. All is well.

Step 11: Sonic visits the mushroom kingdom one day and is absolutely appalled to find out that people say to him "ohhhh you're like the flesh version of Princess Metal from the Koopa kingdom!"

#random bullshit go! #mario and sonic at the olympic games #sth #metal sonic #bowser #add this to the pile of crossovers I'll never actually write #this was inspired by the fact that both Bowser and Metal love wearing black bands with spikes

[eighthday]

Review first season "Vigil"

Ep 3. An episode about loneliness and loss.

Although the series is shown from Amy's point of view, but in this episode, each character experiences his own trauma and deals with it in their own way. (An episode about each of us.) The pressure on Amy is starting to build up. The first attempt to find the killer came to a dead end. Amy's time on the submarine has been extended from 3 days to 3 weeks, and her pills have run out. And she let Poppy down again by promising what she couldn't deliver. After all, it was then that she realized that she would not have the opportunity to wish Poppy a happy birthday. Who rewarded her with such boundless responsibility and a sense of guilt not even for her mistakes? These downward steps, which she has taken more than once in the past, will reach a deep end and a state of revelation on her part at the end of the episode.

And then the present comes and passes familygram ❤️from Kirsten. A pleasant little thing again)

This familygram is more personal than all the others. Was Amy a little happy that the radio operator who delivered the telegram only confirmed that Amy knew about Kirsten's attitude towards her, but was afraid to admit? It is likely that Amy does not specifically reminisce about Kirsten, not understanding and doubting where they are in the present. Is this her approach in a relationship, or does she not want to hurt herself even more?

This is also one of the few times when Amy smiles sincerely. Kirsten hides behind a wish from a cat to emphasize, but not to attract the attention of other people, highlighting only three words for herself. "So do I". It's about work, but for me it's also a part of Kirsten.

Looking at this scene, I have several questions: Who are all these people except Amy and Poppy? Why are Ian's parents not at the funeral? Is Poppy being picked up by a close family friend or a social worker?(They can't be Ian's relatives, because if they were, Poppy would have stayed with them) Is there no one on Amy's side who could support her? Are they even alive or is she alone?

It's great to know that, after several previous attempts, these two have started to build a good relationship in Amy's absence)

In addition, we see a lot of photographs in many scenes that decorate Amy's home. Who enjoys taking pictures, storing them on their phone, and then printing them out? Amy has many skills besides saving her own phone password from Poppy.

"It's unfair." Say this phrase to a detective who must uncover the truth and restore justice, who works so hard that he becomes a DCI, who has tools and assistants at his disposal, who solves cases after case, but who due to chance loses his future. We don't know why Amy left medical school after the second year, which is very difficult to enter, but maybe she was searching for justice? Amy saves and gives a chance not only to Harry, but also to herself. If you put a mirror in front of Amy, the main core of the scene wouldn't change. She admits something to herself that she couldn't even tell the therapist or Kirsten.

Since Kirsten sent such a familygram, there was more than just one moment associated with this book. Most likely, there were also many other books, because Amy couldn't immediately understand the message. Amy is probably used to seeing Kirsten awake in the early morning and therefore does not ask her anything, but simply raises Kirsten's hand in a familiar, confident gesture to hug her and be closer.

P.S. It couldn't have been another animal, could it?)

Who remembers the story of Jonah? The prophet who was swallowed by a whale for three days so that he would become what he was destined to become.

#vigil #rose leslie #suranne jones #amy silva #kirsten longacre #silvacre #bbc vigil #amy x kirsten

[pompadourpink]

Les temps du présent

Le présent de l'indicatif/présent simple

The indicative present is used to

describe what one is currently doing (présent d'énonciation): je travaille - I'm working (as we speak)

describe a fact (présent de vérité générale/historique): les chats sont des animaux - cats are animals

describe an ongoing fact that started in the past (présent duratif): il pleut depuis hier - It's been raining since yesterday

describe the scene (présent de description): le soleil est caché aujourd'hui - the sun is hiding today

describe a habit (présent d'habitude): je cours tous les dimanches - I run every sunday

describe what just happened (présent de passé proche): je viens d'arriver - I just got there

describe what is about to happen (présent de futur proche): je suis là dans une minute - I'll be there in a minute

give an order (présent d'injonction), alternative to the imperative present: tu rentres tout de suite ! - You get home immediately!

make a story feel real (présent de narration): il y a six ans déjà que mon ami s'en est allé avec son mouton. Si j'essaie ici de le décrire, c'est afin de ne pas l'oublier. - It has been six years since my friend left with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is so that I will not forget him. (Le Petit Prince)

express a possibility (présent d'hypothèse): si tu es gentil, tu auras un cadeau - if you're kind, you'll get a present

La conjugaison

First group (-er except Aller): je marche, tu marches, il/elle/on marche, nous marchons, vous marchez, ils/elles marchent

Second group (-ir with -iss- in the plural forms): je finis, tu finis, il/elle/on finit, nous finissons, vous finissez, ils/elles finissent

Third group (everything else): typically je cours, tu cours, il court, nous courons, vous courez, ils courent; long -oir verbs: je veux, tu veux, il veut, nous voulons, vous voulez, ils veulent; -indre/-soudre verbs: -s, -s, -t, -ons, -ez, -ent; other -dre verbs: -ds, -ds, -d, -dons, -dez, -dent; -ttre: -ts, -ts, -t, -tons, -tez, -tent; -rir, -llir: -e, -es, -e, -ons, -ez, -ent

Auxiliaries: je suis, tu es, il est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont + j'ai, tu as, il a, nous avons, vous avez, ils ont

N.B. Many third-group verbs are irregular because they used to be two different verbs (ex: Être comes from both Essere - to be and Stare - to stand) that eventually became one and consequently have two bases and can have up to five stems. Always double-check for different, stems, extra letters, accents, etc.

Notable exceptions:

A vowel -i- cannot be between two other vowels in the first and second person plural so it will turn into -y- (vous croyez, nous voyons)

In -cer and -ger verbs, the first person plural changes to allow for the correct pronunciation (nous lançons, nous mangeons); c > ç, go > geo.

In -aître verbs, only the third person singular keeps the accent (elle naît).

Le présent progressif

The progressive present is an emphasized version of the enunciation present and is therefore used to describe an ongoing action that started recently and is actively being done as the narrator is speaking.

It is built by putting together the subject, the verb Être conjugated in the indicative present tense, the adverbial locution "en train de" (in the progress of), the infinitive form of the verb of action, and possibly an object.

Je suis en train de manger, j'ai bientôt fini - I'm eating, I'm almost done

Est-ce que tu es en train de travailler? - are you working?

Nous sommes en train de faire nos devoirs - we are doing homework

Le conditionnel présent

The present conditional is used

to express a wish: j'aimerais retourner en Italie - I'd love to go back to Italy

a suggestion: tu devrais partir tôt - you should leave early

a hypothesis: il pourrait rentrer demain - he could come home tomorrow

to casually share one's opinion: je n'aimerais pas qu'on me dise ça ! - I wouldn't like it if someone told me that (can be a way to aggravate a situation)

to ask something politely: je voudrais un café - I'd like a coffee

to refer to the future in the past: elle a dit qu'elle arriverait tard - she said she'd arrive late

La conjugaison

Conjugating the present conditional is easy for the first two verbal groups: just add the terminations to the infinitive of the verb. If the verb ends in -e, remove it: prendre > je prendrais. Fun fact: you can build the imperfect tense by removing -er- for the first group and turning -ir- into -iss- for the second.

First group (-er except Aller): je marcherais, tu marcherais, il marcherait, nous marcherions, vous marcheriez, ils marcheraient

Second group (-ir with -iss- in the plural forms): je finirais, tu finirais, il finirait, nous finirions, vous finiriez, ils finiraient

Third group (everything else): typically: je courrais, tu courrais, il courrait, nous courrions, vous courriez, ils courraient; auxiliaries: je serais, tu serais, il serait, nous serions, vous seriez, ils seraient + j'aurais, tu aurais, il aurait, nous aurions, vous auriez, ils auraient

Main irregular verbs: auxiliaries + aller - j'irais, devoir - je devrais, pouvoir - je pourrais, recevoir - je recevrais, savoir - je saurais, tenir - je tiendrais, venir - je viendrais, voir - je verrais, vouloir - je voudrais

N.B. Make sure to not mix it up with the simple future tense, they're similar!

L'impératif présent

The present imperative mood can only be conjugated in the second person singular and the first and second person plural. It is used

to give an order: viens ici tout de suite - come here right now

a suggestion: appelle-le tout de suite, non ? - maybe call him now?

a plea: s'il te plaît, pardonne-moi ! - please, forgive me

to ban someone from doing something: ne touche pas à ça ! - do not touch that

La conjugaison

Warning: it often looks like the indicative present - without a subject. If so, in the second person singular, the verb will require a final -s only if the current final letter is a consonant. Certain verbs cannot be conjugated, like vouloir.

être: sois, soyons, soyez; avoir: aie, ayons, ayez

va, allons, allez; finis, finissons, finissez; marche, marchons, marchez

N.B. Pronouns can be added: a reflexive verb will come with a tonic pronoun and a dash in a positive sentence: Lave-toi !, and a direct object pronoun in a negative sentence: Ne te vexe pas !; when referring to a portion -en: Prends-en un peu ! (an -s will be added for the liaison to be possible), and to a place, -y: Vas-y !

L'infinitif présent

is the neutral form you find in dictionaries: courir, marcher, prendre

is found after prepositions À, De, Pour and Sans: c’est sans dire, viens à la maison pour dîner !, on part sans perdre de temps

is found after a conjugated verb: il voulait partir tôt (the second verb can be the first element of the sentence: courir nous fatigue)

expresses an order, advice, prohibition: frapper avant d’entrer

expresses anger, surprise or a wish: m'excuser, moi ? plutôt mourir !

expresses doubt in an interrogative sentence: que faire de ce garçon ?

Le participe présent

The present participle works like an adverb and either expresses an action that happens at the same time as another action, that is possibly the consequence of that action, or describes the subject. It is built by removing the termination of the verb and replacing it by -ant.

Les employés possédant une voiture peuvent se garer dans la rue - the employees who own a car can park in the street

Étant déjà en retard, je décide de courir - being already late, I decide to run

N.B. To get the right pronunciation or avoid a mix-up with an adjective, it can be necessary to modify or add letters when building the present participle. For example: convaincre > convainquant (as convaincant is the adjective), diverger > divergeant ([ʒ], as divergant would be a [g] sound).

Movie: La Piscine - Jacques Deray, 1969

#temps #basique #conjugaison

[lymooniee]

Why I hc Shadow as autistic:

Just gonna preface this before I begin, this is all for fun and is a headcanon of mine. Your headcanons may be different to mine and that's valid too! Any grammar mistakes uh- ignore because I'm too lazy to edit this like crazy.

I will also link the video I made of all the moments, too, since it is way too long to post it on here. Keep in mind that not every moment is in the video, but like 95 percent of it is.

Shadow for me has always shown plenty of signs of being autistic, I'll provide as much evidence as I possibly can while doing my best to try and keep this at a reasonable length.

Shadow has always been the silent type of character when he is written correctly or, in other words, whenever Shiro Maekawa was involved with his writing in SA2, heroes and 06. Currently Prime too has done his character justice. I have to state this because I feel this is the best possible way of actually understanding Shadow as a character, so I'll mainly be touching his good characterizations and then some from his own game (not a lot however). He was silent, lonely, calm and often was in his head more than outwardly speaking out. I believe many autistic people like myself, connected to this side of him. Facing with so many adversities because of our differences from others, we become shut in and lonely too, since most autistic people don't feel as if they fit in. You can easily argue this is because of his ptsd from losing Maria, but I'd like to challenge the idea that it can easily be both and his ptsd enhances his traits.

I'll first begin with SA2, Shadow's first scene with eggman to me is quite hilarious if you put a different lens on it, the way he stand there ignoring Eggmans questions and then quickly demands Eggman to abide his rules. It puts Eggman into shock, but I think you could tie these moments that Shadow has as an autistic trait of his. Social cues are quite difficult for a lot of autistic people, and having no filter adds into this difficulty. The way Shadow ignores Eggmans questions to quickly ask him to do what he wants instead really emphasizes this point I made.

I love how he remains calm too, he doesn't yell this at Eggman and instead walks away casually and confidently. It's always been one of my most favourite moments with him. It really does make him stand out as he was able to influence Eggman to follow his wishes. If we want to talk about when he gets introduced to Sonic, I find this moment also again pretty funny in an endearing way when you put in this perspective. Sonic running to him asking Shadow to say something to speak, as Shadow stares at Sonic with silence. He's once again in his head more so than externally present, he also may be struggling to craft up a response or is at a lost with why Sonic is desperate for an answer. Conversations or socially interacting with people is challenging for most autistic people for a plethora of reasons so anything can really explain why Shadow here wasn't responding.

I've also found some of his moments when thinking of Maria (two specific moments being when Amy encourages him to help fight and the other being before Rouge approaches him to ask why he saved her), these moments he's very in tuned with his thoughts. After realizing his true promise with Maria he is in his head not responding right away to Amy, he sheds a tear and runs quickly to help and exclaims how he has to go now to keep that promise. This confuses Amy, however she doesn't stop Shadow or anything. When Rouge approaches Shadow and saying it was unexpected and unlike him to save her, he answers by saying that he didn't go to save her and was doing it for the chaos emeralds. She clearly catches on that this isn't the entire truth, this moment to me is harder to explain. But I think it's because of how he struggles to express his true intentions and feelings in the matter, similar to the Amy one before because he doesnt understand his own empathy.

Now one of if not the most obvious moments in SA2 is when Amy mistakes Shadow for Sonic, he slowly turns to look at her. Doesn't say a word or anything the entire time, and just continues to stare at her. I always loved this moment. I feel this one just speaks for itself lmao.

Now moving onto Sonic 06 moments (sorry there's not a lot in heroes tbh. There is a lot in Sonic X/Prime, Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and the Twitter takeovers though!) Sonic 06 main one points out how he is going to discover himself and make his own path. I've always loved this about him as a character, he's not there for anybody but himself, he knows he is different. He will embrace this about himself and not let others try to make up what he has to be. Other subtle traits in 06 are also ways in which he responds to those around him, head nods or simple "yes" responses. Again, it's his way of expressing himself in conversation that really hints at his struggles for social cues. I also adore when Rouge asks him a question and he once again demands for something, and she is like "ok cool, but you didn't answer my question?" Moments like that not only add a lot of charm to him, but something I really connected too because I do this all the time without realizing it. I think partially it's because I get stuck with my own thoughts and those questions I feel I've already got it answered for myself so it's prolly similar where that realization that you may know the answer already, but the other doesn't just doesn't click together sometimes. It could also be because he needs to get out what he needs right away to feel a sense of stability.

Sonic x just has a lot of funny moments that really make his character shine, when he crashes the plane with Espio, Vector and Charmy. He doesn't use his words and instead guides it down forcefully, I similarly do stuff like this where I struggle to express what I need or have to do so I usually just do it without saying it. This happens often when people are in the way of something I have to get to. Like if I have to throw out something for example. I also love that when Espio asks why Shadow didn't just ask, Shadow responds by saying he needs to go find Dark Oak and then just crashes straight into the wall. He really just has such a difficult time expressing exactly why he needs to do things lmao. I also love how he has a challenging time understanding instructions. Eggman asks him to do something and because to Shadow they didn't feel clear, he asks more than once for confirmation. Or when he gives the silent treatment to Rouge and she teases him about it, he just walks away without a word. Now this isn't only applied to Sonic X but Shadow has a really REALLY REAAAALLLY difficult time finding the true intentions of people, Sonic X he gets upset at Rouge and Chris for calling him out on trusting Eggman. He gets defensive and argues back at them saying that Eggman is worthy of trusting because he knows the most about him. It's all he has even though Eggman has been evidenced of tricking others around him. There's countless of other times where Shadow struggles with this, like basically every moment in his own game where he blindly trusts Black Doom. One other moment too I can't exactly remember which game it was, but Rouge was clearly lying and goes "you can trust me! really!!" And he does and then tells her absolutely everything that she wanted to hear.

Sonic prime moments are a lot less, but I do feel his way of just remaining very inwardly or to himself about things can once again be his difficulty in trusting. The way he also overanalyzes a lot of things around him as well. I also just love certain scenes like, "they're air shoes" or "hardly, I'm the ultimate lifeform" because he is blunt and took it quite literally. As he usually does in Prime, where he takes things quite seriously in general. I also feel because sonic is very VERY adhd coded in prime, it really does emphasize the contrast between the two of how someone with autism may interact with someone with adhd. In the most recent episode, he once again finds it difficult to express his protectiveness and plays it off. Or when he does compliment Sonic, he just glares at him when Sonic somewhat jokes around because it felt out of character for Shadow to do that. Even though Shadow was just being blunt about his thoughts and had a moment where he does express properly, but then his glare somewhat shows once again how he has a difficult time crafting up responses lmao.

Some more stuff but more miscellaneous, the Twitter takeovers is funny but it depends on if we want to take it as canon. He loves dry foods, adores kittens to the point he wants an orphanage (connection to animals on a deeper level), he has an organized bedtime routine, and yeah that's basically all the ones I can think of atm. These are quite explanatory I feel. Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog shows he has empathy but struggles to show it similar to basically every other moment I've described, but also just love that he can't handle computers I think that's so funny idk why. I can't even describe how it's an autistic moment for him it just feels like it. He stims with his quills a lot as well, which ugh I adore so so so much.

A lot of these things I've expressed about Shadow come from just from me loving him but also being able to see myself in him as well. I'm happy that Prime is bringing back his character to what it was, I think so many people love Shadow in the fandom simply because of how much they relate to him. He's such great representation despite it not being canon, because of how easily those can see themselves in him. I really do love Shadow and I know this is super long so if you read this, thank you and I hope you enjoyed it.

Have a cute photo of him as a reward ♡

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog analysis #autistic shadow the hedgehog #headcanon #analysis #sonic fandom #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth #ramble #autism #neurodivergent #sonic prime #sonic adventure 2 #sonic 06 #sonic x #i really hope this all does make sense i know a lot of it is me rambling #i just really love him as a character and could easily go on and on about him #so sorry for how long this is #i would ADORE to hear what others may add to this tbh #i just AHH

[stellaluna33]

I still can't get over that "Happy birthday, by the way. Wasn't that a couple weeks ago? Your birthday?" Like. There was no POSSIBLE reason, writing-wise, to have Jess say that, except as a point/counterpoint to also choosing to write (in THE PREVIOUS EPISODE!) that Logan, her actual boyfriend, DIDN'T KNOW when her birthday was! I am going insane! What was the purpose of this, Amy?!!! To show that Jess knows Rory and Logan doesn't, not really? Kinda seems like it... What other reason could there be?! If Jess hadn't said that, you could argue that Logan not knowing her birthday was only there to emphasize how Rory was broken-hearted about being estranged from her mother for this special occasion. BUT THEN THE NEXT EPISODE HAPPENS! And Jess DOES know her birthday (even though they never celebrated it together). There was literally NO OTHER REASON to have Jess bring that up!!! It was not relevant to their conversation! There was no logical reason to have him TURN BACK, specifically to say THAT! But Amy, what were you doing???? If this were any other show, like the Office or, most recently, Abbot Elementary, this would be considered obvious and heavy-handed foreshadowing about who the "right guy" is, but NOOOOO! This is Gilmore Girls, where NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO STAY HAPPY, EVER, so WHO KNOWS! Just tell me what you were thinking, Amy! TELL MEEEEE!!! *shakes you by the shoulders*

#Gilmore Girls #Literati #Well folks it's Insanity Hours

[egg-emperor]

The scene where Eggman holds a gun to Amy's head is just *swoon*. The scene is made even more chilling by Bristows icy performance.😍😍😍

Just goes to show that Eggman is willing to do Anything just to get what he wants and he lives by the motto "Fuck them Kids"

real af if he held a gun to my head and teasingly mockingly said "is there something I can help you with", I'd immediately drop to my knees and ask "no sir, is there something I could help YOU with 😍🥴" anything he wants. in a heartbeat. it makes me so weak lol

and the way Deem delivers "if you value your life, you'll tell me where Sonic and Tails are" so cold and menacing sends shivers down my spine hhhsdnskgsng 🥰 has that same tension and dread as the Tails mincemeat line in Adventure, partly thanks to delivery again

and the harshness of his threats and how he gets increasingly pissed as time goes on during Crazy Gadget like "Sonic, if you don't get here, she WILL die!" man was NOT fucking around, he means business. his threats aren't empty and he's so dangerous and scary for it

you know he wasn't too good to really do it too when it was a plot to lure Sonic to kill him in the first place, then tries to kill Tails a second time when he tries to get revenge.

imagine how the story would've gone if Sonic had really exploded in the capsule,

he succeeded in killing Tails during their second fight as he expressed pleasure in doing so the fight prior,

and that just left poor Amy alone as the last one standing when the job is done, who he was also eager to kill and emphasized that she WILL die... ohh man it all would've taken the darkest turn

#dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #sonic the hedgehog #sonic adventure 2 #my post

[abemussercutupwhiletalking]

Actually typing this out feels like I’m trying to score a controversial Wildbow character bingo, but I think Charles Abrams is both an Amy Dallon and a Taylor Hebert, both in terms of their narratives and in the reader reception to them. All three have a character arc that involves a toxic upbringing contributing to extremely flawed ways of thinking, that combines with extreme external pressures to drive them towards monstrous behaviors towards the end.

The meta-aspect of it that I’ve noticed is that, once the behavior is revealed, people tend to circle back and largely ignore the circumstances prior to that in favor of examining the flawed thinking, or at worst attribute the circumstances directly to their inherent personality (e.g. the rare “perhaps Carol simply sensed Amy had bad vibes?”). I feel that some of this comes from Wildbow’s more recent treatment of Worm, emphasizing the unreliability of Taylor’s narration and how what happened with Amy and Victoria was all spelled out if you only paid close enough attention/read between the lines in the way he intended.

Worm stops being a story about the process of how someone slides into becoming their worst self, but a story about recognizing the signs that they will do that as early as possible. This comes up sometimes with people suggesting Taylor was too passive about her bullying, or reading into Charles falling into crime as a teenager as signs of inherent moral failure.

I’m sure part of that is him trying to emphasize the contrast with his more recent, straightforwardly heroic protagonists in Ward and Pale, but it does feel like this sometimes leads to readers trying to find some kernel of proto-villainy in events that are clearly set up as traumatic and sympathetic drivers of their later action.

I’ve seen it suggested that Charles is intentionally a purely or blatantly villainous take on Taylor, which definitely tracks, but that requires a pretty specific read of both those characters to work. Obviously, no one is required to like or sympathize with any character, especially not ones who are in a story to cause harm to other characters, but it is a weird kind of “gotcha!” to frame abusive or traumatic backstories or conflict with other antagonists as evidence of secret moral decay.

#parahumans #ward #pale #worm #Wildbow #maybe I’m just rambling completely off base #but people get so weird about Charles