#the symbolism tugs at my heartstrings

[galedekarios]

the chosen's earring & the celestial spyglass (idle champions)

with idle champions releasing gale as a hero and revealing his age and alignment, there are also a bunch of items relating to him:

many of them have very sweet and cute descriptions, like a ball that gale tried to get tara to play with, lifting his spirits even tho tara didn't see the sense in it, or the collection of waterdhavian chapbooks that gale is glad are written at least in full sentences, the crystal ball used for divination as well as a helpful tool for shaving - but what caught my attention are two things that are more serious than the others:

The Chosen's Earring A symbol of Mystra's faith in me. Former faith, I suppose...

i found the wording here extremely interesting. there is a popular fanon theory that the earring is gale's focus, and it very well could still be.

yet the wording makes me thing that it's not something that he got for himself, but that it was something given to him. by mystra. a symbol to mark her newest chosen. a gift, but also expectations.

while idle champions is of course only a mobile game and we should probably take everything here with a big grain of salt, it's still interesting to me.

the other item that caught my eye was the celestial spyglass and its description:

Celestial Spyglass I like gazing at the heavens. To remember. And to forget.

this immediately stood out to me because it reminded me of gale's alternate astral sea / boat scene in act 3:

Gale: Quite the view, isn't it? The Outer Planes are a place of potential, somtimes overwhelming possibility. I conjured this illusion often during my confinement in Waterdeep. An escape for the mind where there was none for the body. It was easier to stare at the celestial abyss than recognise the emptiness within myself. Easier to pretend my destiny lay among such stars, than work to salvage a life on solid ground. You changed all that.

we also know that gale's tent still holds such a celestial spyglass:

he also comments on it if you explore the world and fine one, like in the abandoned wizard tower:

the "to remember. and to forget." is also very interesting here. i think from his act iii dialogue we can infer what he means by this and it tugs on my heartstrings the same way the alternate act 3 astral sea / boat scene does.

to remember the beauty of the weave, a time where he was all but one with it, where he glimpsed at those possibilities. and to forget, to forget all that came after, the crushing loneliness, the isolation, the abject feeling of failure and loss.

[halosdiary]

Forget-Me-Not |Rich Boy!Gojo x Reader | 呪術廻戦

Summary: Imagine you and your childhood best friend become rivals at a later point in time due to your families clashing. Now you're married to him and he's not the same anymore.

Word count: 3.1k

Contains: ANGST, strong sexual tensions and back sass.

What?” Satoru asks, draped across the couch in your house.

“Did you think you’d get to marry for love?”

He’s looking at you like he’s making a joke you’re not in on.

Really, though, he knows you’re not that dumb. After years of your families being rivals, they wanted to merge companies. Marrying you two was inevitable. Satoru pretends he doesn’t care about any of this—about you—but he does. He’s been desperately in love with you since you were kids. Not that you remember any of it.

You frowned at his question as I sat across from him on another couch. You loathed how smugnhe was about this. My arms were folded, my eyes were trailing down towards the wedding ring.

"If you're gonna be a dick about it, maybe I should just leave." You stated.

Satoru leaned his head against his hand with a bored expression. He was clearly enjoying getting you riled up.

"You wouldn't leave," he said.

"Your family would never let you." He smirked as he noticed your gaze down at the wedding ring. The symbol of this arrangement.

"You're a piece of work, you know that?" You hissed at him with contempt.

You stood up to face away from him, walking towards the window and a beautiful view of Tokyo at night.

Satoru chuckled, finding your irritation amusing. He stands up from the couch and walks over to you, standing just a few feet behind you.

"A piece of work?" He echoed your words lazily, a small smirk on his face. "I prefer ‘unforgettable.’"

"And I say insufferable." You equipped back. You weren't even looking at him, still looking at the beautiful view.

Satoru leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched you for a few moments before speaking.

“Now, sweetheart,” he said, “is that any way to talk to your husband?”

"Oh, you want the husband status now?" You turned to face him.

"And sweetheart? I remember you calling me another name back when we were younger." You reminisced back when I was younger, when me and him were friends, but our families not so much.

He was told a bunch of lies and he'd stop talking to me. If he did talk to me, it wasn't pleasant, he treated me like I was like my family. But you were not,  you were different, and he knew that.

Satoru’s playful expression faltered for a moment at your words. He didn’t expect you to bring our past into this.

He was silent for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a small scoff.

“I was a kid back then.” He pushed himself off the wall and stepped towards you. “And I was a fool.”

"Just..leave me alone." You said softly as you hugged myself and wanted to be alone.

The sight of you looking so vulnerable tugged at Satoru’s heartstrings, but he hid it with a blank expression.

He took a few more steps closer, until he was right in front of you. He lifted a hand to your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking at him.

“And what if I don’t?” he asked quietly.

He felt a pang in his chest when he saw your teary eyes. He’d spent years building up a wall around his heart, and seeing you crying like that was putting cracks in it.

He dropped his hand from your chin, shoving both of them in his pockets. He looked away for a brief moment, trying to get his thoughts in order.

“Because it’s easier than letting myself feel,” he admitted quietly.

"Tch." You tut.

"You always did have that wall around your heart. You're not even the same Satoru that use to want to hang with me anymore."

You just look away from him with disappointment and continued to look into the window. The beauty of the lights and moving cars and people was just satisfying to watch.

His heart ached at your words. It was the truth, but it stung all the same. He’d shut himself away emotionally a long time ago.

He let out a small scoff, feigning indifference. “That Satoru was a fool who knew nothing about the world,” he said coldly. “You should be grateful you don’t know him anymore.”

"I think I'd prefer you humble, but I guess I'm just stuck with a pompous asshole." You sneered at him.

Satoru’s jaw tensed at your words. For a split second, the mask of indifference slipped and anger flashed in his eyes.

He stepped closer to you, his body pressed against yours, pinning you against the wall. His arms caged you in, his body leaning in close to your face.

“You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you?” he asked coldly. “You think you know who I am?”

"I know who you are and i don't care for this attitude." You try to get out the way, but his body is pressed against mine.

You forgot how strong he was, you look away from him, fighting the urge not to stare. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

He let out a small scoff at your attempt to push past him. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him again.

“Don’t look away from me,” he commanded.

“Look at me.”

Satoru was standing so close to you that he could feel the heat off your body. He was hyper-aware of your flustered expression, the red on your cheeks. It made something in his chest tighten.

You tried your best to avert his eyes and just get away from him. You were finished talking about this with him and you just wanted to relax.

He could see the stubbornness in your eyes, the determination to avoid him. It frustrated him. He was tired of you pushing him away.

He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them against the wall, holding them above you, making you trapped.

“Stop fighting me,” he practically growled.

“Stop being so goddamn stubborn, for once.”

You leaned your head towards him with a glare.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"

Satoru could see the fire in your eyes, and it only served to fuel his own anger. He pressed himself even closer to you, trapping you completely against the wall.

“You really want to push my buttons tonight, don’t you?” he asked, voice low.

“You’re playing with fire, darling.”

You scoff at him, all I could see what all bark and no bite. But something was up, my chest was beating and being this close to him unlocked some interesting feelings.

"So what?"

Satoru was picking up on your body’s reaction to him—the quickened breathing, the pink on your cheeks, the fast beating of your heart.

He leaned in closer, his face mere inches away from yours. His body was pressed against yours, his arms still pinning your wrists above your head.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned, his voice low. “I don’t think you understand what you’re toying with.”

"That's funny." You say with a smug look on your face.

"I was about to say the same to you."

He was taken aback by your response, surprised by your boldness. You’d never challenged him like this before.

But he also found it irritating. Here you were, acting like you had the upper hand, when clearly you didn’t. He needed you to understand that he was the one in control here.

He tilted his head to the side, studying your expression. “You cocky little thing,” he retorted. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

"Ive dealt with your bullying in the past, this doesn't effect me as you think it does. Now let me go to the bedroom, Satoru."

Your request still fell on deaf ears, you felt his face closer to mine. You noticed both lips were extremely close to one another.

"If you wanna kiss me..you gotta earn it."

Satoru froze in place, his mind registering your words. He suddenly became acutely aware of how close your faces were.

He tried to ignore the desire that flared up within him at the thought of kissing you. He’d been trying to repress those feelings for years, and now you were practically giving him permission to do something about it?

He let out a scoff, trying to play it cool.

“Earn it, huh?” he asked, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

You were still staring at him. Your lips curling into a smirk. You were ready, you were right there, ready for anything. There was no use trying to get away from him.

"Yes." You answered, "Earn me."

He tried to ignore the way your smirk made his heart skip a beat. The confident look in your eyes was driving him insane, and he wanted to wipe it off your face.

“Earn you, huh?” he repeated, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly. His eyes trailed down to your lips again, as if he couldn't help himself.

"And how, pray tell, am I supposed to do that?" He asked, his voice low.

"You're not the only one who can play these wicked games, Satoru." You say to him as you slowly give him a peck on the cheek.

"Figure it out, rich boy."

His heart pounded in his chest as he felt your lips on his cheek. It was just a small, simple action, but it sent a shockwave through his body.

He was used to having things given to him. He was used to people bowing down to him, following his every order. But this felt different. He couldn't just command you to give him what he wanted. He had to actually work for it, earn it like you said.

"You little minx," he muttered under his breath. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

You let out a small chuckle.

"I'd like to think I am. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

He gritted his teeth as he heard your chuckle, feeling his frustration grow. You were enjoying teasing him, taunting him with your confidence and your games.

“Shut up,” he retorted. “You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise I’d have put you in your place by now.”

"What's stopping you?"

You lean in closer to him for a genuine kiss.

His throat went dry as you leaned in closer. He could feel your breath against his face, and he knew he was quickly losing control of the situation.

But there was no way he was going to let you win this easily.

He pulled you impossibly closer, his body flush against yours, his grip on your wrists tightening.

"You're a brat, you know that?" He muttered before pressing his lips to yours.

You were genuinely caught by surprise at this kiss, I had a feeling he wanted this for a long time, but you didn't realize how much he was repressing all these years.

This kiss, it felt forced, but in a good way. Was this really how did he really felt? All this time?

He was holding back, trying to restrain himself from losing control. But as he kissed you, he couldn't help the way his body responded to you.

He'd been repressing his feelings for you for years, and now that he was FINALLY letting them out, it was like a dam breaking.

He pressed you harder against the wall, his body trapping you completely. He felt the rush of adrenaline mixed with a sense of desperation. He needed more.

You try to pull back from his deep passionate kiss, but it felt like a vortex sucking you back in for another.

"Wait—"

He felt you try to pull away, but he couldn't let you go. He needed more. He needed to keep going, to keep tasting you, to keep exploring the feelings that he had been bottling up for years.

He ignored your protest, kissing you even deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth, his body pressing against yours, his hands still holding your wrists in place.

"At least takes this to the bedroom before we go too crazy—"

He heard your words, but he was too lost in the moment to listen. All he cared about was the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your mouth, the way your body felt against his.

But eventually, he realized the practicality of what you said. With a low growl, he suddenly pulled away from you, releasing your wrists.

"You're lucky you're cute," he repeated, his eyes dark with desire. He grabbed your hips and practically dragged you towards the bedroom.

"Oh, so we're dragging wives around now—" I say sarcastically.

I grunted a bit as I landed on the bed, I slowly started to take my clothes off.

He smirked at your sarcastic comment as he stood at the edge of the bed, watching you as you started to take off your clothes. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch.

"Careful," he warned, his voice low. "Keep being a brat and see what happens."

He slowly began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs.

I cover my mouth at well toned he was. I always mistaked him as this skinny like twig man that just ate a lot of sweets and junk food.

I was blown away by the appearance. Exposed, I slowly take more of my clothing off and soon I was nude.

He could see the surprise in your eyes as you took in his physique. He never thought much about it, but seeing your reaction made him feel a bit smug.

As you began to undress, he couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. You were even more beautiful than he’d imagined, and he felt a pang of desire course through him.

He stepped closer to the bed, his eyes darkening with lust. "You’re beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

"Careful now, unlike you..it's my first time."

Satoru smirked at your revelation, his chest tightening at the thought that he would be your first. He knew how special that was, and he felt a hint of possessiveness at the idea that no one had touched you before.

He stood over you, his eyes roaming over your naked body. “Trust me, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

"I know." I said to my husband as I kissed him passionately.

I slowly pull back and feel the length and girth of his cock. I moaned a bit as he kissed my neck.

He let out a sharp inhale as you touched him, his body instantly reacting to your touch. He felt a mixture of desire and possession coursing through him.

I stroked him back and forth, feeling his cock get even harder at this moment. Hearing his moans were absolutely heavenly.

I never thought I'd see the day that Satoru Gojo was melt into my pleasure.

He couldn’t believe how good your touch felt. He’d been so used to being the one in control, but right now, he was completely undone.

"Awww, poor baby is feeling apart~" i said to him, even though I was completely wet myself.

He let out a growl at your words, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Careful, darling,” he warned, his voice low. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

"Then fuck me out the danger zone then~"

He let out a soft chuckle at your words. You always knew how to get under his skin.

"Watch that mouth of yours," he warned, his voice a mere whisper now. "You have no idea what you’re asking for, darling."

His eyes darkened even more at your words, his body practically trembling with desire. The way you said his name sent a shiver down his spine.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his body hovering over yours.

"You're playing with fire, darling," he whispered in your ear. "But if this is what you really want...”

I soon get on top of him, grinding on his cock. Slowly letting his cock produce into my wet entrance. I let out a small moan as I felt a small dull pain, but soon melts into pleasure.

Satoru's moans were echoing the room, feeling the slow pumps into go in and out. It felt so good. He always wanted this for years now. He felt so good inside you, you were getting good at this after a few months. You were lost in the pleasure until he flipped you over on your hands and knees. You were lost and confused for a moment till you felt his cock slide back into you.

"AH~♡" You cried out.

You feeling your hips being gripped and moving back and forth was sending you over the edge. He had a way of making you feel special, feeling every bit of you was making his head feel dizzy. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoing the room, your moans getting relatively louder, and you gripping the sheets.

As nearly an hour went by, I had already finished our session. I slowly turned myself towards Satoru, he was looking at the ceiling.

That experience was beautiful, my first time really was something. You stared at him as you slowly scooted towards him.

He lay there on his back, panting lightly, his chest heaving. He was completely spent, both physically and emotionally.

He felt your presence as you scooted closer to him, and he turned his head to look at you. His eyes met yours, and despite his usual smirk, there was an unexpected vulnerability in his gaze.

"That was, really something. You know." You stated softly.

He chuckled softly, his voice a bit hoarse from exertion. "That's an understatement."

Despite his usual nonchalant attitude, he actually felt a sense of contentment and peace in that moment. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

You laughed a bit at his nonchalant attitude, and then you thought to myself, maybe this marriage won't be too bad after all.

"..Maybe this marriage won't be bad after all." You said to him.

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at your comment. Was that a hint of acceptance coming from you?

He tugged you closer, his arm wrapping tighter around you. He held you against his chest, feeling your warmth against his skin.

"You don't need to sound so begrudgingly about it," he teased. "I'm not that bad of a husband, am I?"

"I guess not." You smirk at him and stick my tongue out.

He let out a soft sigh as you cuddled up against him, feeling a sense of comfort and contentment wash over him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

"You're lucky you're cute," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of your head.

TAGLIST: @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @lowkeyremi @bleach-your-panties @blkkizzat @buttercupblu

[red-moon-at-night]

The impeccable drama of a Judgment of Paris interpretation that chooses to have Aphrodite disguised in the appearance of Helen and say "Grant me your apple cast from gold ... Take me as your reward" is so SO incredibly good what a galaxy-brained idea

AND THEN all of the tension and conflict created between Paris and Helen through him constantly referring to her as "Sweet Aphrodite" and "goddess"... Like it starts off very endearing for Helen in Perfect Stranger ("He called out a name meant for me") but quickly turns sour in Paris In Court and Any Fool Could See - Paris has precisely 0 brain cells and is quite possibly the densest lead role I've ever come across. His naivete and optimism is actually quite scary (especially at the beginning of Any Fool Could See) and the constant kneeling and devotion towards Helen is just *chefs kiss*

Helen becomes less of a person and more of a symbol of love (to Paris) and war (to everyone else). The line delivery of "I become the object / Of such bitterness / And fear" in Hell Or High Water tugs at my heartstrings. Sheila Parker's performance throughout the musical absolutely elevates Helen's character, her vocals are AMAZING honestly.

There's layers to it I'm not going to be able to put into words or do justice right now but that's okay. TL;DR: "One goddess / One human counterpart". It's such a fun twist on that myth!!

[crguang]

I just know you are bias when i saw your team comp..those pretty girlies lol. Even i used Sumire before because she's pretty but i found her not quite useful for me in the early game but she's useful for my dark team..Oh and i bet you will love her even more when you investigate her case

SPOILER: She confessed to us

I AM BIASEDHEJBRJFKEG I DID HER CASE IT WAS SOOOO CUTEEEEE i’m obsessed with her shes so cutieful…. really tugged at my heartstrings like wow im going to redo it a couple more times for sure. also the flower she’s named after symbolizing sincere love/admiration— im meltingggg i love her so bad. and THIS… WOW WOW WOW

[just-prime]

Parachuting into your inbox because I'm ready to throw my phone into the sea, after seeing all of these posts about Ahsoka showing Luke Anakin's training holocrons.

IT WOULD BE CUTE, YES.

That is, if it made ANY sense for Ahsoka to have them at this point in time, let alone for them to still exist.

More terrible writing for fan service and we can't keep letting them get away with it.

Ahsoka left the temple with nothing but the dress on her back.

As far as we know and can easily gather from her living in the lower levels and having presumably sold her akul tooth headdress - the one symbolic tie she had to the only cultural identity she had that wasn't the Jedi, the only one she could still associate positive feelings with, she was not meeting up with any Jedi or Padme, and therefore was not hiding them at the Martez warehouse.

And it isn't likely that Anakin would have tried to find a way to find them to her. It isn't illegal to own a lightsaber, but Anakin kept them hoping that she would one day come back, making it even more likely that he kept her training holocrons.

Why, after all, when Ahsoka said she didn't want to be a Jedi, would she have either found a way to ask for them, or Anakin thought they would be a welcome parting gift, and there was no time.

We can then easily infer that the holocrons could only possibly have been relocated from her quarters to four places:

- Anakin's quarters in the temple

- Anakin's quarters on his Venator

- Ahsoka's quarters on the Tribunal, in the unlikely event that in the flurry of Anakin only being able to give her sabers back and leaving for Coruscant

- The archives in the Jedi temple, possibly to be used for training other Padawans, or for more secure storage

One of those three places (and the most unlikely) were destroyed, the other Vader had direct access to.

Are we really to believe he didn't ensure there wasn't a single trace left of any of the virtual time capsules of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker?

He minimally took them to Mustafar and hid them in a closet, but it's much more likely that he destroyed them.

I want as much Anakin and Ahsoka content as the next person, but I am beyond tired of heartstrings, including mine, being tugged on through shoddy writing that insists on breaking canon and logic repeatedly in order to evoke said emotional response from the audience, and distract them from the fact that this show is riding on nostalgiabaiting and milking beloved relationships from much better written shows (when this show didn't put in the work to earn it).

The sad reality is that this clusterfuck of a show isn't actually delivering satisfying nor compelling storytelling at all.

Name dropping fan favorites while saying absolutely nothing about them, while depending on Ray Stevenson and Hayden to carry this show on their backs through their excellent performances isn't good enough.

I really think that people either feel afraid of speaking openly about the show, or they are settling for worse than mediocrity, while Filoni is getting away with murder, giving Ahsoka holocrons and psychometry she shouldn't have, because he doesn't know how to tell his story without doing so.

I wanted Ahsoka to have a show worthy of the character she was up until the end of Rebels. Those who haven't watched her in animation aren't going to walk away from this series understanding why Ahsoka is so beloved, and it's a tragedy.

I wanted live-action only audiences to watch this show and be driven to give The Clone Wars and Rebels a chance, instead of doing the opposite.

I wanted to love this show instead of wanting to eat a plank of wood. Your scathing and accurate reviews are a balm for my soul right now. Wednesday can't come soon enough. Then the healing can begin.

Until the next Filoniverse show.

Exactly. All of this is so fucking true.

Filoni's playing around like a child in a sandbox. Except he doesn't care if the sandcastles he's knocking down are his or not.

The one of the earliest examples, but also the deepest cut that I can think of is the needless recon (and weird whitification) of Kanan in the beginning of The Bad Batch.

Now, a lot of people don't know this, but Kanan had his own book, exploring his backstory and how he came to meet Hera. It was also turned into a 12 issue comic run called Star Wars: Kanan: The Last Padawan which was how I knew about it. The story depicts Kanan and Depa Billaba final moments together, including banter with their clone troopers, on a very obviously desert planet, with no Bad Batch people in sight.

And there are numerous other examples of written Star Wars content being thrown in the bin by Filoni, like massive portions of the Ahsoka novel that was needlessly condensed for Tales of the Jedi. It's obvious that he must have nothing but contempt for the canon Thrawn books given how he's made Thrawn into some insane pro-imperial warlord that doesn't even fit with his Rebels characterization in a void, let alone his book characterization on top of it.

AND we all know it doesn't stop at written works either. Midichlorians, while incredibly stupid, are a pivotal part of Star Wars now and don't just get to be thrown away cuz Filoni doesn't like them. Entire character arcs have been utterly scrapped for the sake of the disgusting GirlBossification of Bo Katan, for the sake of making Luke more mystifying while seeking synergy with the sequels, for the sake of having an easy marketing ploy with Ahsoka the Jedi.

For me, this all ties back to the fact that Filoni actively discouraged people from watching the previous shows. It was a warning flag then that has morphed into the massive red flag that it is now. He doesn't want people watching the old shows, because he wants to appeal to a larger audience who is naive and will eat this shit up. The amount of people who I've seen online who are singing the praises of the show, but admit to having never watched Rebels let alone Clone Wars is really concerning. Because it proves exactly who his target audience was with this.

Which is such a shame because even on it's own, Ahsoka is a bad show. As previously discussed here, the choreography is laughable and the acting from everyone is that of a cardboard cutout and how the pacing is absolutely fucked and how the costumes could be outdone by a 5 year old's first cosplay. But that's not even touching the lackluster sets, and the really weird messaging (both @trashquisitor-shirozora and @kanansdume have extensive metas on the show's treatment of Xiono that are definitely worth the read), and so much more.

But to return to your original reason for persecuting in, yes. Those cards should not exist, in any way shape or form, and the fact that they do without explanation is fucking ridiculous.

[anmagirl]

Sonic prime ending predictions

After season 2 I am super excited to find out how this amazing series will end.  But my biggest question is how will the whole Sonic and Nine situation be resolved.  Man this with how this show is going anything could happen.  So for fun I am going to make a few predictions on what might happen.

1) Sonic literally just has a heart to heart with Nine.  Obviously they are going to fight first.  Heck I wouldn't be surprised if Nine uses the council's tech to make bots of his own to slow down Sonic from creating his new world.  Obviously he gets to Nine they fight and then he apologizes to him and they have a heart to heart.  Nine is reluctant but since it would make Sonic happy and his new world wasn’t very successful he fixes the prism and all goes back to normal.

2) Sonic makes a surprise move and teams up with the council to stop Nine.  Like above if Nine does you the councils tech then the best people to stop them would be the original creators.  Aka them.  Obviously they don’t like working with Sonic but since it was either that or their worlds get destroyed by Nine they agree on a truce.

3) Maybe Nine succeeded in creating his new world but realized that it's not everything he wanted since he was now completely alone.  He misses Sonic but is still upset about Sonic only viewing him as Tails.  So he will either make his own Sonic similar to chaos Sonic or he will kidnap the real Sonic.  Not sure which would be more interesting in this situation.

4) Oh this one would really tug at my heartstrings but what if when Nine rebuilds the worlds the mostly completed shards start showing visions of the original world.  You know like he starts to see Tails memories but since they shards are not fully complete everything is still separated.  

5) Oh what if Nine has no choice but to complete the prism.  Like to make his world he has to combine the shards but with the shards being so close to completion with all of them in the same world things start to collapse or fade.  Nine could get Tails' memories in this instance too but refuses to accept it.  Sonic finds him, they fight and then they make up.  

6) Maybe it can be a very bitter ending where Sonic or someone else completes the prism without Nine and while fighting with whoever Nine gets Tails memories he and Sonic have a quick heart to heart.  Personally do not want this to happen.  I want them to be friends when it ends.

In all of these I would still like Nine’s metal tails to be destroyed as a symbol of him accepting himself and Sonics friendship.

So what do you think will happen?   I would love to read your replies.

Edit

7) Maybe Nine and Sonic find a way to keep both worlds.  However to keep them, since I would image all these realities could not coexist together, the individual character have to stay in there own worlds, so they do but to make things better by doing that now each world as their own version of Sonic, and Shadow.  Would love to see Nine have his own big brother after Sonic leaves.

[mako-neexu]

A/N: woke up earlier to a DA VINCI CE THIS SEPTEMBER AND DUG THROUGH MY HELL HOLE OF TUMBLR DRAFTS JUST TO FINISH THIS SINCE I MADE THIS DURING PAPERMOON BUT I NEVER GOT TO FINISH. I LOVE YOU DA VINCI 

-

growth | gudao and someone precious to him (its not tagged as ship but it could be interpreted that way too. either way is fine.)

He wakes up in a familiar room.  A room he knew well and frequently visited back in those days of peace.

Ritsuka blinks a few times to see if his surroundings were real. But the ground he stood on and the inventions and objects before him seemed to be as real as it gets.

Of course, it was merely a dream, but seeing it once more tugged at his heartstrings more than he could have imagined.

He smiles.

A soft laugh catches his attention, “Why are you smiling Fujimaru-kun?”

He turns to the source, and could not help but rub the back of his neck and laugh as well, “Well, I was just remembering how I completely spilled an energy drink on my bed when Fou tried to settle on my lap last time. Because I got lazy in changing the sheets, I slept with the stain on, which caused everyone to get mad me. Well, not all- but y’know...”

Da Vinci clicks her tongue, setting her cup of steaming coffee on the side. “Even now, you still have that bad habit of bringing drinks near your bed.”

He approached her while she picked up a small ornithopter, caressing its tail with eyes holding some affection... and nostalgia. “I guess so, Da Vinci-chan.”

Ritsuka swallows. His eyes catching sight of the floor before biting his lower lip, and sighed, “How...How are you, by the way?”

His heart was loud in his ears. Each thump was as if something clogged his throat.

Damn. Why is he feeling this way now? 

Her amused scoff was mixed with feigned hurt relieved him more than he could admit, “Same old, same old~ At least my back no longer hurts from hunching over my inventions back in those days. Now, I just have to worry about my back getting hurt from how beautiful my form is!” 

And her smile was wide, ever so similar to the Mona Lisa the painter created, yet so different that she had a charm separate from that artwork alone.

...He missed her.

“Anyways," She gave a dismissing wave before making her way towards him. "I like your mystic code! Did she make it for you?"

Da Vinci leaned close to observe the matching uniform he had with Kadoc. Well, almost. The theme was similar anyways. 

Though it was made only within a week, the care put into it was obvious from the way there were some parts that were hand embroidered, along with hidden pockets strategically put so no obvious lump could be seen.

Besides that, Ritsuka knew what caught Da Vinci's attention the most was Chaldea's symbol attached at the center of his chest.

Ritsuka laughed a little, rubbing his nape once more, "Mini-you and Miss Crane really packed every spell here. Habenyan proposed a sketch of the design. Not to mention, the self-defense mechanisms they put if I were out cold and unable to fight. Haha..."

That soft, proud smile of hers made his heart ache terribly.

Da Vinci was beautiful and confident just like always.

She laughed, throwing her head back in pride, "Fufu! We inventors and artists want nothing but the best for our creations and users!" 

As she reached towards his shoulders to brush the nonexistent lint off, he noticed how there was someone sitting on one of the tables and chairs behind Da Vinci, but he couldn't see who it was.

Their surroundings outside of Da Vinci was blurry, though he clearly recognized it as the old workshop from Chaldea, it was as if the space itself was doing its best to hold up.

"And would you look at that! You're seriously taller than me now! Unforgivingly handsome too! What the heck!?"

Her expression of gawking made him laugh.

"It's called a growth spurt, Da Vinci-chan." He rolled his eyes in half jest, his bangs falling over to one of his eyes. The inventor smiled brushing it behind his ear, but then-

She flicked his nose, which caused him to squawk in surprise, “Even though you’ve matured, you’re still the dork that loves giant mecha and sweets in the morning.”

“So is one of those the things you’re going to give me?” Ritsuka quirked one side of his lip. Even if he was trying to play it cool, deep down, he was a little embarrassed knowing she still remembered that he always snuck in some extra sweets from Emiya’s kitchen in his pocket. He doesn’t do it anymore, but the fact that she still remembered both made him happy yet flustered.

Da Vinci crossed her arms, “What, you caught up on that? Also, nope, it’s none of those! Why don’t you try and guess?” 

With a smirk, he thought long and hard for a moment... actually, a little too long, but then she gave up, “Fine, fine- now, come over here.”

“Wha-”

There was a tug on his sleeves, which caused the Master to stumble forward a little but nevertheless regained his balance.

Something warm pressed against his forehead. Arms wrapped around his frame which dwarfed her own.

.

Ritsuka then realized what it is.

.

“...It’s been tough, huh?” Her quiet voice made it difficult to look at her in the eyes when she pulled away.

All he could manage was a nod.

Her sigh combined with her soothing caresses on his back made him swallow, his chest felt so heavy, a pang was starting to make itself known, “We don’t know when the ‘end’ is but I’m sure there is one. I know there is one. But whether you choose to run away or fight is up to you. No one will begrudge you if you choose the former. What we only want is for you to be happy, Ritsuka.”

That lump in his chest only grew.

A Da Vinci slowly pulled away, she tried to smile, only to have it come out sadly.

“Still, it only felt like yesterday that we were just the same height. You’d also come to my workshop late at night for advice, on how to deal with some Servants you weren’t sure how to talk to.”

...Those times made the young man smile over the bittersweet nostalgia of sharing tea, sitting on a stool while she leaned against the counter and hummed. It may have been artificial, but the golden light that sometimes bathed Da Vinci’s workshop always gave the area a warm reception to anyone who entered.

Aside from the Doctor’s room, the place felt so close like home. Especially when it was decorated and truly loved like a workshop from Italy.

“I remember devising a lot of your mystic codes as well, young man.” Opening her glasses and pushing it up to the bridge of her nose, she glanced into the direction of a certain wooden table holding countless sheets of rough drafts and sketches. “If I could, I’d have included the information and gave it to my successor... but, ah well, sorry for the time constraints! If I knew about what would happen sooner, I’d have packed the info as well to the Border~★“

Her signature wink has Ritsuka chuckling softly, “You’d constantly ask me for feedback on it too. Especially for the Atlas uniform’s spells.”

Those times had been fun. Wearing her inventions, testing them out, and even if it had flaws, the bugs were minor, otherwise...

“But, you know...” Ritsuka paused, now glancing at his gloved hand bearing the command spells, his arm covered in a new mystic code developed by his friends. He can’t deny that he was always happy to receive one every now and then from them, and yet...

His soft blue eyes met the inventor’s own.

“...No one can beat your mystic codes, Da Vinci.”

He appreciated the current ones, but the old mystic codes he had, using uniforms from mage schools and awesome suits, were still the best for any and every situation he came across.

“You’re going to say they’re old and full of creases by now, but you made them, you know? Everything you gave to me, I’ve made sure they’re still taken care of to this day. Because even now, they’ve never failed to protect me from harm.”

...The love she poured into each and all of her inventions were something he’s experienced himself. From her more serious projects to the more silly ones... she wasn’t one to hold back.

Because that is who Leonardo Da Vinci is, one of the people who’s helped him at the beginning, even when he was just... some guy who’s secretly a little scared and confused from all that’s happening.

To the side, he sees her swallow, her expression unreadable behind the glint of her glasses. Even if couldn’t see, he as some sort of inkling. He just hoped he didn’t hurt her feelings accidentally...But the rustle of clothing is what catches his attention, she moves before him, raising her hand to cup his cheek.

Behind the silver frames of her glasses lies the beautiful yet hopeful gaze of the Mona Lisa, Leonardo’s smile ever beautiful like her soul.

“I’m glad. I’m really...glad.” She said, voice almost a whisper, as if something fragile would shatter if it was any louder, “If those could still protect you for a little while longer-help you for as long as you’re still on this journey-then I couldn’t be anymore happier.”

Breath caught on his throat, his gaze lowers while he tries to match her happy smile.

“It truly is a little surreal,” The inventor quietly laughed, strangely soft, “You’re all grown up now. Even for a heart wrenching moment like this... you’re not crying anymore.”

Fujimaru slowly hugged her, feeling her warmth, smelling like home. Back at the observatory atop a snowy mountain. Back to those times where it was just the four of them enjoying a quiet moment beneath an orange kotatsu.

“You smiled at that time, right?” She smiled even as blood red spilled past her lips, even as gold began to gather at her feet, her determination to protect him and Mash had never wavered for even a second. From the beginning, down to her last moments, he always saw a smile.

What Da Vinci deserved wasn’t partings of sadness, rather, a round of applause for someone as great as her. A certain someone would agree with his words.

Tears... He felt that it didn’t suit the occasion. For this warm, happy dream where he was able to meet her again and share another moment with one of people he’s cherished the most. Whether this was real or not, he was going to be honest before her no matter what.

And like the genius that she is, she was quick to notice his implications, the words unsaid between the both of them.

Returning his hug, Da Vinci’s laughter was a little muffled, dwarfed as she is in the hold. And before Ritsuka closed his eyes, knowing that the end of the dream was near, he’d smiled into a certain someone’s direction, seeing now the unmistakable green and white accents of the clothing the man wore.

And just like the times they all said goodbye, Ritsuka was happy to see their smiles once more.

[mapsofnonexistentplaces]

question for you... top cc divorces?

GOD where do i begin. i think there’s more like divorce than actual maintained relationships throughout the whole thing LOL might as well run through all of them

the fucking. one that’s ruled my mind and heart for the past few months nonstop has been isel and olzhas specifically because their whole dynamic revolves around how much these two care about each other even in spite of like. the loose conceit of a breakup haunting them. they both have this thing about, despite mutually deciding on separation, making exceptions for one another in terms of aiding and even being outright affectionate with one another… they’re still being very tightknit whilst also refusing to let other people pry into these ‘transgressive’ acts that contradict the broadcasted external image of their relationship. they’ve got a very private kind of love between them and their whole divorce is basically just a charade built off a misunderstanding but it’s still this constraining force that just. guilts the both of them out of genuineness. it’s fucked up. it’s my favorite thing in the world. i’m glad everyone else just finds the whole ordeal gormless and i’m glad people like freya and dalisay exist to make fun of these guys for being soooo unbearably facetious

beatrix and marjolaine are also complicated…. with them it’s less a thing of them like. tugging at my heartstrings and more just being like the most twisted fascinating puzzle of codependency LOL. like the two of them met each other whilst they were very young and they were both kind of just like. superficially enthralled with one another. very artistically pretentious pair of wayward fiction writer/famous opera singer which like. slowly lost its spark over the years and like two decades later they’re basically both just tugging on one another. utterly refusing to break things off despite then both obviously only being captivated by the past veneer of their old young love. with beatrix in particular it’s fun because he’s got like. this whole complex about seeming well-put together and accomplished and classy and whatever and he’s basically holding onto marjolaine as a status symbol like “hah look at me i’m an accomplished woman who is MARRIED” and he basically views outright divorce as like. admitting to making a mistake in choosing to marry marjolaine. and him admitting to a mistake would basically like kill him so eh. in the dull relationship he must stay. like something i adore about the whole situation is that beatrix basically DID divorce him and quickly walked back on that for aforementioned prideful reasons which is like. yeah. he’s a bit of a disaster it’s fine. similarly i’m fond of the way marjolaine latches on to beatrix for a similar reason of like. “i already started this marriage and ever since my life’s gone down the drain (especially socially) so i need to keep this flame alive if nothing else” whilst also. only really being half-hearted in her interest of beatrix as an individual. they’re both just very devoted to. not really one another. but the period of time that their inversion represents.

cas and lanuola are like a complete nightmare to explain i’ll do it separately if anyone wants it but like MANNNN they’ve got a mixture of things that kick my ass which is like. a) born arose from very heavy performance-based careers and both never really had profound connections with other people nor managed to really effectively evade the public eye. got to do the latter on the train quite plainly and also got attached to one another quite quickly due to shared experiences. they’re both each other’s “first person to really understand me”. b) they both died trying to protect each other it’s all in vain and it fucked!!!! they turn into weird abstract ghosts and you think it’d be fine BUT c) divorce happens due to a convoluted domino fall of events basically boiling down to “cas is extremely bent on revenge for her early death and exerts it on someone completely unrelated by sending them vague scary visions meant to warn the living of the person who killed her and lanuola finds this completely uncouth and breaks things off for moral purposes. however cas is also conflicted about her actions and is incapable of admitting it. lanuola also misses cas but maintains his morality steadfastly. ahhhhhhhh!” to harken to an old sketch made by my good friend stanley:

there’s like some smaller divorces that don’t quite matter that much. like faris and volkan. latter of whom is literally an absolute speck of dust of a character he literally just exists to be faris’ ex boyfriend who barely even comes up. this dude’s job is to simply get a divorce. it’s not even that dramatic they just cut things off because faris wants to leave for the scary train that’s rumoured to probably just kill people once they get on there and it’s like. amicable enough. faris hardly ever gives him much thought afterward LOL

mazin’s divorce also like vaguely matters but it’s another more metaphorical thing. dude literally just disappears without a word to his wife because he’s just THAT ravenous to leave for the train and sabotage it from within. only ever brings her up to get pity from other people and was never really that attentive to her or anything. he sure is a really lovely guy

the brief rendezvous between olzhas and faris is also funny to me just because these guys have been like. good friends for years and like the first thing olzhas does upon breaking up with isel is go AW SHIT i feel useless and bad on my own are there any other beautiful bears on this train that i can tie myself to. and so e kind of just jumps into a relationship with eir old bestie only for faris to like. no more than a week later. go “yeah i do care for you and i want to see you get better but also i am Not isel and using me as a rebound is bad both for you AND me” and olzhas is kind of just like. “Shit yeah. sorry. let’s go break chairs over each others heads.” and they do. they’re still friends and this whole incident basically means nothing to either of them nowadays but it humors me. the woes of the gay italian man….

[ghostlymongoose]

This is something that's been tugging at my heartstrings for as long as I can remember.

I'd be lying if I said I've never quite felt as the gender that was assigned to me at birth. Because I did. I was born a cisgender male and it felt right. Or, at the very least, it felt partially right. Like it was always just one half of what or who I really am.

I would adamantly try to deny these strange feelings I'd get while coming across terms such as "non-binary" or "intersex".

Because we've always been taught that there only exist two sexes: male and female.

Transgender people are viewed as "strange" or "diseased" by most cishet folk because of their simple inability to comprehend those who are different from them.

However, they are, at the very least, becoming more and more visible in both media coverage and the regular everyday life. And their existence had become much more digestible to the general mainstream culture under the oversimplified explanation how transgender people are just "people who feel like, and desire to be, the opposite gender".

Then what can someone tell me about those of us who've always felt like multiple genders at once.

As previously mentioned...

I was born and raised a male but always felt like the other half of me is missing. Like this gender identity I possess is only half of the entire truth.

Because I've always felt like I was meant to be both a man and a woman at the same time. And this is not just when speaking about my identity, but body and mind as well.

Even my genital always felt incomplete without the lady bits.

And that's when I learned of the old Greek legend of a "Hermaphrodite", or "Hermaphroditus".

Now, for those of you who are not familiar with this term, let me explain...

There are multiple versions of this ancient myth, but they all share one major important aspect in common.

Hermaphroditus was the bastard child of Aphrodite, goddess of love, and the messenger god - Hermes.

"It" was described as a two-sexed being of both male and female likeness and was considered an important symbol in fertility and marriage unions, as it symbolized both "power of a man" and "beauty and compassion of a woman".

But, as it turns out, Ancient Greek people were not the only nation known for such a tale.

Majority of the Hinduistic pantheon are gods and goddesses described as at least partially androgynous.

Come forth, Ardhanarishvara

The one whose name would literally translate "Half-Female Lord" from Sanskrit.

The form taken by the very supreme god Shiva when merging with his consort goddess, Parvati.

Ardhanarishvara represents the synthesis of masculine and feminine energies of the universe (Purusha and Prakriti) and illustrates how Shakti, the female principle of God, is inseparable from (or the same as, according to some interpretations) Shiva, the male principle of God, and vice versa. The union of these principles is exalted as the root and womb of all creation. Another view is that Ardhanarishvara is a symbol of Shiva's all-pervasive nature. And that's not even mentioning traditional Hindu notion of the "third gender" people known as hijras.

Or who can forget the gender nonconforming individuals of ancient Hawaiian and certain Native American tribes. "Two-Spirit" individuals, as they are called today.

These men and women behaved in a manner befitting both sexes and we're often permitted or even downright encouraged to participate in roles attributed to the opposite sex.

Mahū, as they were called in Hawaii, were "third gender" people with traditionally spiritual and religious roles in their society. Historically, it's been used primarily for those born male, but it's meaning had evolved since then and has come to refer to multitude of genders and sexual orientations in modern Hawaii.

Māhū were particularly respected as teachers, usually of hula dance and chant. In pre-contact times māhū performed the roles of goddesses in hula dances that took place in temples which were off-limits to women. Māhū were also valued as the keepers of cultural traditions, such as the passing down of genealogies. Traditionally parents would ask māhū to name their children.

The term itself may be used either pejoratively or respectfully when referring to modern LGBTQI+ people of Hawaii.

But yes

All these traditions and mythologies aside,

Hermaphroditism and Intersexuality had always been so very intriguing and inviting for me. Imagine my surprise to learn that over half of the plant world is hermaphroditic and in possession of both male and female reproductive parts. The same thing applies to creatures such as snails, slugs, leeches,etc. Not to mention a pseudo-hermaphroditism that occurs in female hyenas and cassowaries evolving pseudo-penises.

Or the very people who are born Intersex and thus possess characteristic of both sexes.

Gender dysphoria has been something I've come to consider a lot. Especially as of late. And I cannot deny that I've always felt amused when somebody happens to misgender me online.

Once I had been referred to as "ma'am" by an online friend of mine when rp-ing as a genderless character from an old video game.

I was intrigued not because I found it funny but rather endearing. Something deep inside told me that calling myself ma'am feels just as right as being announced as sir.

I've always felt as intersex in a way. At least in my subconscious.

I've always identified as pan or bi and felt attracted to both men and women (especially to dominant, muscular ones but that is a story for another day). But I was always particularly fond of gay shippings and stories. And it's very fun to see many best fanfics blur the line between "passive/feminine" partner and an "active/dominant" one. Only further emphasizing the duality within human being.

But, of course, my yearning to explore more themes of gender nonconformity and "Intersexuality" do not stop there.

Intersex People sorely lack in representation and it is never unwelcomed to behold a cool fictional character falling under that category.

Seeing The Titan from The Owl House present themselves as bigender being was beyond awesome.

Not to mention that, while I don't know if they can be counted as such, Raine Whispers perfectly captures an androgynous non-gender specified appearance.

Or the amazing Body Swap mode that Shovel Knight offers to it's players. In which you are not only able to genderswap any important member of the original cast (and thus create semi-canon queer romances 😉), but also put your titular protagonist into a female body while giving then gender neutral or even masculine pronouns.

And how a very similar thing is included in the critically acclaimed masterpiece that is Elden Ring.

In which you are not just able to change your character's gender and body type at will, but also experiment with them. Putting a female head on a male protagonist (and vice versa) is a memorable and progressive feature for sure.

Sadly, however

Such portrayals aren't always in positive light.

One of my all time fav 3D Platformer franchises, Ty The Tasmanian Tiger, does include a villainous eldritch race of hermaphroditic shape-shifting extraterrestrials known as "Quinkans". Who serve as the main antagonists of the 3rd installment.

This also applies to old myths.

Take the old Romani mythology that includes a horrific self-fertilizing Poreskoro

The progenitor of many illnesses that wreak havoc upon humanity to this very day.

But as with everything else. Bad ones should be separated from the good portrayals and not be taken as the root of all beliefs, thus giving rise to prejudices and negative assumptions.

And for the sake of not making this post hours long, I shall just end it by announcing my support for all the other people who feel similarly about themselves. And to say that it feels so very liberating to be true to one's self.

Yes I AM a guy. But I am also equally a woman. Not neither. But both. And I am so very glad to be a part of this wonderful social media where differences between people are highly celebrated and explored.

And I want to thank anyone who took time and energy to read through this little article of mine. Hope it wasn't too long or tedious to read.

And with that, I wish you all a wonderful day 💐💖

[aviculor]

I'm watching Birth/Rebirth, the new release I mentioned. Because it just came out recently, I'm going to spoiler tag my thoughts.

Oh my god, Celie IS played by the same actress as Carla from Scrubs! Judy Reyes! I knew it!

Rose is like a female Herbert West but even more clinical and asocial. I love when a piece of media has a woman who is a mad scientist and an offputting freak. I'd let her masturbate me in the bathroom.

Celie and Lila's story is so incredibly sad and compelling. The way the last time Celie saw Lila was when she was dropping her off with Pauline so she could go to work, and Pauline couldn't contact Celie when Lila got sick, and when Celie's phone was working again she heard all the voicemails including a message from Lila...it tugs at your heartstrings. It's tragic.

I know how blatantly obvious it is that Rose stole Lila's body because that's literally the premise of the film, but her behavior is just comically incriminating. What, you didn't think far enough ahead to have an alibi for when someone asks you where the body went? Also, how dumb would Celie have looked chasing Rose down and waiting outside her apartment and forcing her way inside if Rose's behavior wasn't related to Lila's whereabouts?

"Your daughter's genetic profile made her a perfect candidate for an experimental treatment I've been working on." "For meningitis?" "For death."

Crossing all kinds of ethical lines, I love it.

"Dignity and motherhood don't always line up". Another great quote.

The symbolism that Rose ended up sacrificing her reproductive system to bring Lila back into this world is not lost on me. Lila was figuratively birthed again. Rebirthed, you might say. Coupled with how Lila seemed to stop recognizing Celie as her mother and Rose became uncharacteristically warm and nurturing towards Lila. Which is especially jarring considering how the aforementioned sacrifice was due to her repeatedly...umm, "homebrewing"...stem cell serum.

Basically, motherhood is the overarching theme of the whole film. It's interesting how Writer/Director Laura Moss took inspiration from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, as many people would interpret Victor and his creation as being father and son. This predicates that acts of "creating life" are all equal, be it birthing a baby or resuscitating a corpse. Which circles back around to what I just said about Rose effectively being Lila's second mother.

...Which segues into how Rose and Celie's situation has undertones of a same-sex relationship. Celie moves into Rose's apartment when she learns about Lila, the two begin caring for one another, they're both Lila's mothers in literal and figurative senses, and Rose (involuntarily) stops going to bars to give men handjobs and getting herself pregnant after the "relationship" starts. Rose does not come off as being attracted to men, being completely emotionless about collecting sperm samples as well as other small details that code her as a lesbian. But most egregiously, when Rose was hospitalized, Celie got the staff to break confidentiality by saying they lived together and that was met with "Oh. Oh."

The whole "What would a parent do to save their child?" Psychological Horror aspect that Pet Sematary had, this film is all that. Distilled, in spades, turned up to 11. I really liked it. I can't even spoil anything about the last act. Go watch it yourself. It wowed me a lot more than the last Shudder exclusive film I saw.

[softeninglooks]

i finally watched "haikyuu!: the dumpster battle" today, and it really felt like falling in love with the series all over again 🥹🥹

in the beginning i was a little worried that the cuts would make it somewhat less meaningful, but everything ended up being extremely well balanced. the fast-paced volleyball scenes were absolutely exhilarating, it felt like watching a real volleyball game and reminded me of how captivating the sports is!! and the emotional scenes and flashbacks were at all the right places, they tug at the heartstrings in this wonderful way hq always does.

whenever i rewatch or read hq i'm so deeply moved by how much love was put into this series, how the relationships between the characters are so strong and significant, how furudate and all the people who've participated in the making of hq gave it their all and created such a beautiful, inspiring, and heartwarming story, and i left the cinema with the same feeling. i got really overwhelmed towards the end, when the fun of volleyball and the strength of friendships and the sheer love and passion that permeates hq shine to the fullest as the game is about to come to an end. this movie captured the lessons that hq teaches us so well, and the funny bits were so heartwarming too! <3

my friends who had never watched hq before (though i have talked their ears off many times) really enjoyed it as well and loved both the characters' backstories and the cat/crow symbolism. the music was also extraordinary, it enhanced the whole experience, and made the game all the more thrilling and poignant.

"orange" playing as the credits rolled really had the tears flowing. even though hq ended, the fact that we have this movie, and another one coming, and new one shots and illustrations, resonates with the song itself. "hoping that it will last one more second, just one more second" - i know that in my heart, haikyuu! will last forever. 🧡

[soullikethesea]

I want to spam T with quotes from A Closed and Common Orbit. It has words that I don't have. It is easier to use symbols and identify with stories than to bear feeling (realizing) what it all actually means. But the problem is that people don't tend to pick up what you're picking up. They don't see the words that are screaming at you, tugging on your heartstrings. They don't necessarily feel the same.

Well... to re-direct the impulse I'll share a piece below the cut instead...

“’Is there a grown-up you can talk to?’ Alain asked.

‘No!’ Jane didn’t know why she was yelling. ‘There’s nobody! There’s nobody here.’

‘Well, we’re here,’ Manjiri said. ‘You should talk to a real person when you can, but it’s okay to make yourself feel better with imagination, too.’

‘It’s just-‘ Jane wiped her nose on her sleeve, knowing it did nothing for the snot that was probably running down her lip back in the real world. ‘I’m so scared. I’ve always been scared. And I’m so tired, I’m so tired of always being afraid. I just want – I just want to have people. I want someone to make me dinner. I want a doctor to look at my leg and tell me to my face that it’s okay. I want to be – I want to be like you. I want to live on Mars with a family and go on vacations. You – you both – always – always said the galaxy was a wonderful place, but it’s fucking not. It can’t be, if it’s got places like this one. If it’s got people who make people like this.’ She pointed at her sun-scarred face, her bald head. ‘Do normal Humans know? Do they even know this planet is here? Do they know that any of this is going on? Because I’m going to die here.’ Saying the words out loud made her even more afraid, as if putting them out into the world would make them happen. But they were there now, and it was true. ‘I’m going to die here, and no – nobody will care.’

‘I care.’

Jane turned around, and her mouth fell open. ‘…Owl?’

It was Owl’s face, but no longer flat on a wall. She looked like a person, a whole person, with a body and clothes and all of it. There was nothing real about her, not any more real than the Big Bug kids. But she was there. Owl smiled, kinda shy. ‘What do you think?’ she said, gesturing at herself.

Jane wiped her nose again. ‘How-‘

‘I got the idea when you started playing the adult sims. I figured out how to build myself a character skin and paste it into the base code. No different from reorganising memory banks, really. And I’m not in here. This is just… a puppet.’ She sat down on the floor next to Jane. The kids, who had apparently run out of script, sat down too, smiling in stasis.

Jane couldn’t stop staring. ‘Can I-‘ She reached a hand out, hoping.

Owl shook her head with a sad smile. ‘I couldn’t make this tangible. But we can share the same space, at least. That’s something, right?’

…

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Shh,’ Owl said, sitting next to her. ‘Everything is okay. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.’

‘I’ve been such an asshole,’ Jane said. Owl laughed, and Jane laughed, too, through the tears. ‘And I was stupid out there, I was so stupid and I knew better, and I almost left you all alone.’ Owl put her puppet hand on Jane’s back. It didn’t feel like anything, but knowing Owl wanted to have a hand to put there was good enough. ‘When you didn’t come home that night, I thought I’d lost you. But I never thought you left. I know you wouldn’t do that, not without saying why.’ She placed an empty kiss on Jane’s scalp. ‘That’s not how family works.’ “

[superblysubpar]

You asked for it...

The symbolism of Steve's Clothes/Closet - I must know if it was intentional or organically created because ....

See bullet points below:

- Steve hiding the remnants of his old self (Hawkins sports clothes) in the back could go a few ways... Either hanging onto that part of himself or keeping it for a reminder but the Hawkins gear to me kinda is a placeholder for where he came from - good or bad version of himself. Reminding him of a time he felt successful AND doing something he enjoyed (sports) - not just successful for the sake of success (a fancy desk job). Doesn't matter. Just a reminder.

- Steve legit hiding parts of himself tucked away in the back of that closet that he doesn't want others to see (be it his parents or other friends). Like hiding a huge accomplishment like a COLLEGE DIPLOMA/Grad Pic back there. He clearly uses that space to hold on to pieces of himself that he's either not ready to disclose or share or not ready to let go of.

- The clothes in general. I thought I was reading too far into it, seeing him get more and more casual I was like....nah this boy is not dressing down because he is feeling more at ease, is he? but then you bring it up yourself...when he shows up to Halloween all polished again once *she* is in the picture. Once he's performing again for his parents sake. Reader says herself, he's back to a clean cut, chino wearing yuppie. And she's all like *where did my Steve go? This is not my Steve?* Which in reality was "this is not Steve" (in general) but who are we to know that for real at that point? I feel like not recognizing the man you came to know SO well like that probably was another unconscious tug on the heartstrings that pulled those tears out. Reader knew thats not who he really is at this point and she had no idea why he's marching around like that....

- The arcade chapter... Him just being dressed SO casual and in that hat the way he was - makes me feel like he was right there at the perecipus of this engagement thing but trying hard to not to acknowledge it and let go and tip right back into that persona he knows he'll be wrapped up in for all of enternity. It was the most casual and unfiltered and real I feel like they ever were with each other and it was arguably the most casual I felt they were together. Like it wasn't a show, it wasn't an arrangement, it wasn't part of a plan or a lead up to a good fuck. It wasn't 20 questions to find a way to relate, it wasn't takeout on the couch before or after a hookup, it wasn't a hangout with Robin or Nancy. It was just... Happening.. and I think that's why it was so meaningful and sweet and... Ugh..... 🥰

- Bro is literally cultivating a batman experience in his closet. That is a version of Steve he WANTS to be and doesn't know how to embrace or doesn't feel like he CAN embrace it so he hides it all away. It's tucked in the back with his comfortable clothes and his hats and his life he longs for but doesn't think he has permission to have.

- it's fuckin SYMBOLIC AS HELL that the reader is the one to go to the back of that closet in the story and pull out the sweatshirt, see that yellow sweater, find the parts of him he is hiding away like that. She just crawled into the back and poked around and uncovered parts of him hidden away. JUST LIKE SHE DID IN THE STORY. Like.. she is the one at the end of the day that gave him the confidence and power to say no, to change his path, to quit his job and pursue something he was passionate about, to loosen up and ... Wear the sweatshirt.

And so ends this evenings WCIL notes 📒

NotcryingnotcryingNOTcrying

So, #1 I can't believe you actually sent this and you've thought about it this much and you are all killing me (in the best way though, like I'm dying and coming back to life revived, idk I've had a lot of espresso today).

I'm trying to like, actually answer this and discuss it but my brain is too busy full of a bunch of emotions dancing around and throwing papers like, the Inside Out people are literally in my brain right now. My Core Memories are turning rainbow and it's chaos, so just hang on for the ride.

So, to answer the first question, it was both? Steve's clothes transformation was like a thing that just sort of happened without being planned until it was a plan, if that makes any sense? Organic and intentional at the same time. But that happened with a lot of things with WCIL. If you guys remember me saying, WCIL was supposed to be this like little 4 part thing - originally I was just gonna like lean into the smut of it all, no real storyline.

Ha!

So as I started to get a better outline, fall in love with the story I was writing more, the more I thought about the things I wanted to bring full circle, the easter eggs, the things I wanted to break down for Steve and reader. And the clothes for Steve just started to happen - like my subconscious writer side of my brain knew where it was going and the other, doubting side, was like wait what are you doing is this important? Yes, now sush.

I just wanted reader and Steve to become exactly who they've always wanted to be with each other. And for Steve, to me, that's absolutely breaking down material things like his wardrobe.

I thought a lot about Steve's wardrobe in the actual series, and how we all love that yellow sweater and the vests he's seen worn only twice, and the Christmas sweater. It's because they're so typically not Steve outfits. There's a reason we all write about him wearing polos and tight collared shirts - because that's Steve's uniform. It's his mask, just like you said. The Christmas Sweater is with Nancy, when he's just you know, fought a demon from another dimension, got a girl he cared about back after real fear of losing her, after apologizing for being an asshole he's always kind of been...he's scared but safe, he's feeling pretty vulnerable. The first time we see the vest? Steve's writing his college admissions essay. He's vulnerable times infinity. He doesn't think he's good enough, he's gonna leave and lose Nancy? He could just stay! Work for his dad. Security. 2nd time? Star court just happened, you know where he was BEAT UP BY RUSSIAN SPIES and almost died? He's with Robin, you know, this girl that HE ADMITTED TO BEING OVER NANCY BECAUSE THIS GIRL IS BETTER FOR HIM AND WAIT SHE IS A LESBIAN LET ME JUST BE HER BEST FRIEND? And he's applying to jobs, knowing full well, he's not getting a new one with his reputation. And season 4 (well we could have a whole discussion about season 4's wardrobe) but the yellow sweater is key. GUYS. YELLOW?! SO BRIGHT? WHO IS THIS MAN? He's thrust back into this scary shit AGAIN. Where was that bright ass color hiding? Why have we never seen him wear it? Why did he choose that day to wear it? And listen, I know that there could be no rhyme or reason to these choices. But to me, every single detail matters in a show or movie. I want to analyze the brands of Toothpaste. I want it all.

So, idk, to me, it seemed as if Steve picked clothes that were just inherently "not" Steve in times of fear, in times he was a little lost. Trying to figure himself out maybe, trying to figure out what *he* liked?

And so yeah, I think he hides these things about himself. I think he's scared to be his true authentic self - he's made all these friends, he's become successful, but would they stick around if he didn't have his job? If he didn't have money? If they knew how much he really loved his favorite movie or the color yellow? WE all know they would. Of course they would. But Steve doesn't know that, not a for sure guaranteed yes, not yet at least. He's absolutely making a little Bat Cave in his closet, you're so right 💛

And yes, the arcade chapter 💛 Steve had every intention of just going over to apologize. He didn't want to have sex. He didn't want to dance around it anymore. He was scared, vulnerable (see my theories on how he dresses when he is like this above cough cough). The arrangement was over. It wasn't a random hook up. They said SORRY to each other, and it happened because they missed each other, THIS version of each other. The competitive flirting, the casual clothes, the laughing so hard you're crying - REAL love. But that's so scary...to just give up everything you think you know, all the security and sure answers you have for something that might not work out, no matter how much you want it to 💛

Thus ends my long winded response that isn't quite a response. I love you 💛💛💛💛

[ashbrat488]

Foul Play - Chapter 18

Millicent stood by the window, her gaze fixed on Henry as he left the porch. Their eyes met briefly, and he lifted a hand in a small wave before he turned back to his car. She let out a nervous breath and absentmindedly chewed on the corner of her mouth. After a moment, he disappeared from view, and she turned away from the window to find her father entering her bedroom, a small box from Henry in his hand.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking a seat on her bed and accepting the box from him. She glanced up at Darren and Abby. "Can I be alone?" She sensed their hesitation but they eventually left the room, closing the door behind them, giving her the space she needed.

She untied the small red ribbon from the box and carefully tore away the green wrapping paper. Pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath before opening the box. Inside, she found a delicate necklace, featuring a rose gold rose with a tiny diamond in the middle. A soft smile spread across her lips as she touched the small pendant, feeling its delicate craftsmanship. Her phone's notification sound chimed, and she glanced at it to find a new message from Henry.

'The rose is from their Disney collection, symbolizing Belle. I thought it was fitting for you, for us. You possess beauty, kindness, and intelligence that resonate with the essence of Belle. You see through me to the core of who I am, and you stand by me when no one else does. I meant it when I said I love you. I have faith that you'll find your way back to me. Merry Christmas, Shortcake.'

She set the phone on the nightstand with the box before crawling into bed under the blanket.

January 2023

"Couldn't I complete the last two terms at home? Please, Daddy..."

Darren sighed, feeling a mix of tenderness and frustration at Millicent's plea. Ever since the incident with Ben, she had taken to calling him "Daddy," and it never failed to tug at his heartstrings. "I'll see if I can arrange for some form of hybrid learning with your teachers. However, it's not a common practice, and I can't guarantee anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't let them see you falter, sweetheart." Abby chimed in, providing comfort as Darren drove them to get their books for the upcoming school term. "You're stronger than they are."

"I don't know if I am," Millicent whispered, her stomach in knots as Darren found a parking spot. Despite her inner turmoil, she stepped out of the car, her arm linked with Abby's as they walked into the school bookshop.

Inside, they split up to gather their respective books. Millicent's heart raced when she sensed a gaze fixed on her. His laughter reached her ears before she spotted him – Ben. She froze, tears welling up as he approached with a mocking smile. "Well, well, hello, sweetheart. It's been a while, hasn't it? I've missed you," he said, his fingers reaching for her cheek.

"Don't touch her," Henry's voice was a low growl as he stepped between them, firmly gripping Ben's wrist. "Haven't you caused enough pain?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ben retorted, his smile fading as he tried to meet Millicent's gaze. "Just trying to have a conversation with my girl."

"She's nothing of yours. And you won't touch her ever again." Henry pushed Ben away, his expression now a scowl.

"As if I want a repeat performance of her constant whinging," Ben rolled his eyes, his gaze catching Millicent's as she reached out for Henry's hand. "How touching. You're playing hero, taking on my leftovers?"

"Please," Millicent's voice was a soft plea behind Henry, urging him to step back. Ben scoffed and walked away.

Turning back to Millicent, Henry's hand gently cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears. He noticed the necklace he bought her adorning her neck. "You like it?"

"I love it. Thank you, Henry..."

"Step away from her." Darren's voice was stern as he quickly approached them with Abby, pushing Henry back slightly. Henry raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I'm okay, Dad. Henry scared Ben off," Millicent assured, positioning herself in front of Henry, finding comfort in his presence.

"I can't believe he had the audacity to approach you here," Darren commented, concern etched across his face as he looked at his daughter, her eyes red from crying. "Let's just go home."

"Could you go with Dad?" Millicent asked Abby, handing over her basket of books. She turned back to Henry as her father and Abby left. "Can we have a moment?"

Henry nodded, watching her family leave before focusing on Millicent. "I'm sorry, Henry."

"Enough with the apologies," he sighed, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned into his touch.

"I mean it. Sorry for letting their opinions about you get to me. I've had time to reflect, and you were right about everything. I trust you." She smiled, his grin widening at her confession. Leaning closer, her voice lowered. "Can you come to my window tonight? After my dad goes to bed. I'll text you?"

"I'll be there." The promise lingered in the air as he closed the gap to press a kiss on her cheek before walking away.

Chapter 19

[the-void-writes]

”in the ocean of my eyes you see yourself, as a mirror i am your truest friend”

I finished writing this at like one in the morning so I'm sorry if clunky, but it was really fun to work on this and really fall into the inner voices of these two so thank you so much! (This is also a pretty loose interpretation of the prompt so I'm sorry if I misunderstood it lol)

For All Eternity - Paternal Instinct

Rio didn’t plan to go on the damn trip until Will said he was doing it alone. Despite his condition, he wanted to make the trek to the neighboring kingdom for Gazali’s delivery. Rio had tried to dissuade him, to no avail. He was still stubborn after all these years… just like his father.

So the two of them walked to the next kingdom in relative silence. Sometimes, Will would ask about the old staff team, and Rio would ask about Dante, but the rest of the time was just quiet. It wasn’t as awkward as the silence they shared during dinner, stuffed in a large old tent as the rain beat over their heads. In a way, it was comforting to not have to talk, but it also made Rio feel even more guilty. He owed Will so much, but he had no idea where to start.

The first night in the tent was nothing special, and their journey continued the next morning. On the second night, when Rio couldn’t get himself to sleep with the rain hitting the trees, he heard something different. Rustling and wincing, coming from the bed behind him.

Even in his sleep, Will pulled at his hair out of habit. He muttered to himself, writhing from some invisible wound, and Rio could feel the air getting thicker. It was most likely a stress-induced reaction from a nightmare. Jin used to get them all the time.

Rio did what he could to help him without waking him up and facing an uncomfortable conversation. He took his thick coat and laid it over the young man’s shoulder, feeling a tug at his heartstrings as Will grabbed the fabric and pulled it closer. The coat wasn’t perfect, but it was a good substitute for the heavy wings that had given both of them immense comfort. 

The pressure in the air dissipated, and Rio settled back into his makeshift bed. Something sharp pressed into his hip as he laid down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the source of the sharpness; two necklaces, the ones Jason had shared with the man that rested a few feet away from Rio. They were copies of the originals, the ones Rio had failed to save, along with everything else in his life. It felt wrong to keep a symbol of someone else’s comfort and love, but it gave Rio a sense of security. In a small way, Jason was still with him, and that helped him sleep.

Rio never brought up the nightmares to Will in the morning, not even when they came back each night after that. His personal trauma was none of Rio’s business, not after he had failed to keep track of him for ten years. Besides, he had a good idea of what he was dreaming about. They both lost the people they loved that awful day in Preston.

Still, it got to the point where Rio would stay up and watch for Will’s spasms so he could drop the coat over him. The boy must have known what he was doing when he woke up each morning with the coat in his hands, but he never said anything either.

When they finally made it to the kingdom, tired from walking and camping, they dropped off Gazali’s package and spent an extra night in one of the inns. It was one room, and even though it had two beds, Rio still took the couch. Part of his soldier-training still lingered in his mind, it seemed, the part that taught him to always be ready for a security breach.

There was no breach to prepare for, but Will started to stir again. Rio walked over and gave him the coat like it was just any old part of his day. As he walked back to the couch, though, Will’s muttering grew louder.

“Danny,” he said, “I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

Rio stood frozen in the center of the room. He wasn’t dreaming of his parents, or his siblings, or his teammates. There had been someone else in the time between Preston and Paradise, and from the pained crack in Will’s voice, this person had hurt him badly. That sob was the sound of heartbreak.

The next morning, Rio sat at an empty table, picking at the food that the inn staff had graciously laid out for their guests. He kept thinking about Will’s words, wondering why it hurt him so much just to hear it. It was none of his business, and yet he couldn’t help but pity the boy. His hand rested over the pocket with the necklaces, trying to think of what Jason would do if he were there.

Rio jumped as another cup and bowl hit the table in front of him. Will sat down and quietly ate his food, glancing up at Rio when he realized he was staring at him. To his surprise, Will smiled at him.

“Hi,” he said.

Rio tightened his jaw and forced himself to speak. “Hey.”

“Is it good?”

“What?” He looked down at his plate. “Right— Sure, it’s fine.”

Will sighed. “Better than what Gabe used to serve, right?”

“God, don’t remind me. That chowder was just flavored sewage.”

Will chuckled, but Rio could still hear the pain in his voice. He yelled at himself mentally for lingering so long on what he had heard. Will finally noticed the struggle on Rio’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Rio shook his head. “No, I have no right to ask.”

“Please, go ahead.” Will shrugged. “We can stop acting like we’re strangers, you know.”

So he wasn’t purposefully avoiding Rio, after all. More likely, he was just bad at starting a conversation, something Rio understood way too well. The old soldier ran his hand through his beard, arguing with himself before finally speaking up.

“Who’s Danny?”

Will went pale, letting his fork fall as he rested his head in his hands. Rio punched his own leg to punish himself.

“You don’t have to answer. That was stupid of me—”

“No, you’re fine.” He chuckled slightly. “You heard me in my sleep, didn’t you?”

Rio nodded. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, it’s a habit. Dante hears it all the time.”

“We can just let it go.”

“It’s okay, Rio.” 

Will took a slow drink as he prepared himself to speak. Rio could tell his voice had grown much quieter over the years. Aside from the slight strain at the back of his throat, he sounded just like his godfather…

“There was a club in one of the cities outside of Bluebrook. I think they stole a bunch of Gabe’s technology and ended up making these androids. Some for weapons, some for medicine, and some for—” Will cleared his throat. “—other stuff.”

Rio almost laughed, but he caught himself just in time. The idea of people stealing Gabe’s technology and using it for personal toys to pass the time in the apocalypse— Rio really hoped that Vesely had seen the place at some point.

“So Dan was one of the thieves?” Rio asked.

“Dan was a medical android. He wasn’t sentient at the start, but he saved a lot of people. Some of them were grateful, but a lot of them wanted those resources for themselves. There was a huge fight, and Dan was all that was left.”

“Christ, I thought our doctors were competitive.”

Will chuckled. “Yeah, exactly.”

“So did you find Dan?”

“Miles found him, brought him back to the hospital, and started giving him all sorts of upgrades, starting his sentience.” Will smiled. “He would have liked you, actually. He loved finding other people who had transitioned.”

Rio couldn’t help but smile. There was something validating about a machine feeling everything that he had felt as a child. Before he could ask more about it, he noticed Will trying to discreetly wipe away a tear. He knew that forlorn expression all too well.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

Will smiled as another tear fell. “I didn’t have many friends in Bluebrook. My brain was fried, so I didn’t make much sense, and I couldn’t focus on things. Dan was one of the few people that stayed patient with me. I couldn’t help but fall for him, especially since he fell for me first.”

As much as it pained Rio to hear that Bluebrook had cast Will aside, he was touched to hear about his love for Dan… And yet, the android wasn’t anywhere in Paradise. Rio lowered his voice.

“Is it okay if I ask what happened to him?”

Will nodded, wiping away a few more tears. Rio waited patiently until he was ready to speak again.

“The doctors were convinced I was gonna die from the Infection— the one they wouldn’t tell me about because they didn’t know what it was.” Will closed his eyes. “So Dan chose to leave before I could pass. He knew if he stayed and watched me die, he’d never leave Bluebrook. He didn’t get very far, though… Gabe’s men took him away for spare parts.”

When Will opened his eyes, he nearly jumped from the table. Rio’s one good eye was small and sharp, brimming with fury.

“He abandoned you?”

“It wasn’t fair to keep him with me.”

“It wasn’t fair to leave you alone!” Rio hit the table. “For God’s sake, you were sick— and the bastard just gave up on you?”

“He finally had freedom, it was the least I could do.”

“Yeah, well, staying was the least he could have done for you. If I ever see that piece of shit, I’ll dismantle him myself.”

“Gabe already beat you to it.”

“I’ll find whatever pieces he took, then, and I’ll burn them. Stupid goddamn machine—”

He took a swift spoonful of grits and ate it angrily. Will’s grip on the table slowly softened, and he began to laugh quietly. Rio stared back at him in confusion.

“What?”

“I’m sorry… You’re just like Dad, you know?”

Rio dropped the spoon and rubbed his eyes. “Shit, Isaiah— I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to hit the—”

“Not him,” Will said, “Jason. You guys are exactly the same.”

The sharp chill running through Rio’s body made him freeze in place. He shook his head and tried to play it off.

“Kid, as someone who lived with the man for six years, I can tell you we’re nothing alike. He was the quietest, most gentle and loving man I’d ever seen.”

His eyes stung, but he refused to cry, even when Will smiled at him so earnestly.

“You’re both fathers,” he said. “You love your kids more than your own lives. If anyone ever hurt them, you’d snap their necks.”

Rio was going to object, but then he thought back to the day Will was first infected, when Jason almost killed Vesely with his bare hands for hurting his son. Jason was a beautifully complex man, someone capable of both vengeance and forgiveness. Perhaps Rio was, too, but he didn’t have Jason’s patience. That was what separated them.

“Forgive me for saying it,” Will said, “but you both hate yourselves, too.”

There was no argument there. He had stayed up many nights to keep Jason company as he blamed himself for everything in his life.

“Your parents were horrible,” Will said, “and the people in Preston just made it worse. They changed how you looked at yourself, regardless of any good you did. They made it impossible for you to forgive yourselves.”

Will traced small patterns along the tabletop. His blue eyes always looked so miserable, so tired and broken. It made Rio all the more impressed that the guy could still smile after all these years. He had more strength than Rio could ever hope for.

“You also saved my life,” Will said softly. “You don’t think you did, but you’re the only reason I’m not doing tricks for Gabe.”

“You didn’t end up any better off.” Rio sighed. “I should have looked harder when I lost you. Then you wouldn’t have met that android asshole.”

“It’s because of Dan that I found Dante. We shared the same pain—” Will tapped the table. “And so do we.”

“Will—”

“We both lost Jason. In different ways, yes, but we still knew him better than anyone else here.” 

Will held his hand up to his neck, grabbing for the necklace that Vesely had destroyed years ago. The disappointment in his eyes broke Rio’s heart.

“I just want you to know,” Will said, “that I never hated you for any of it. The war, the car accident— it was never your fault. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you know that—”

Rio held up his hand. “Stop right there— What do you mean I won’t forgive you?”

“You know what I mean, Rio. He died for me.” Will clenched his fist. “I’m the reason you lost Jason.”

It was a lighting-fast reflex, one Rio didn’t realize he was doing until he was squeezing Will’s hand. His eyes shook a little in the light of the sun.

“I lost Jason long before then, kid. Any future we could have had was gone the day I chose to lie to him.”

“But you still loved him—”

“Listen to me, okay? You didn’t kill Jason. We know what he was like, he would have cut off his arm for someone if they needed it. Jason did what he did because he was more of a hero than any other goddamn employee in that nightmare of a company.” Rio closed his eyes. “He did it because he loved you more than anything in the world.”

Will couldn’t stop crying, but Rio knew it was exactly what he needed to hear. Still, he could do more for him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklaces, laying the sun and moon charms in Will’s hand.

“So don’t you dare blame yourself for his actions, or for Gabe’s stupid fucking plan. If Jason were here, he’d tell you it’s not your fault.” Rio sighed. “He’d tell you everything that I can’t. He was always the better father.”

Will stared at the charms, tracing the edges carefully as though he might break them. “You— How did—”

“They’re both clones. I was gonna give them to you when I found you again, and then I lost you like an idiot. But we’re here now, and they’re yours.”

Will took the little moon necklace— still marked by the crack that Jason had fixed— and placed it around his neck. As it rested on his chest, his face seemed to brighten up, like a bit of life had been returned to his body. He stared at the sun necklace for a bit, and then held it back out to Rio.

“Here, please,” Will said.

“No, kid, I couldn’t—”

“You deserve a part of him, too.”

Rio took the necklace carefully and put it on, letting the charm rest beside the heart locket that once belonged to Jin. Two people who meant the world to him, guarding his heart wherever he went now. Will had given him his own piece of Jason, a light in the darkness. He dried his damp eyes with a smile.

“You’re too damn kind, you know?”

Will smiled back at him. “I had some good teachers.”

Now that they were talking, it felt impossible to stop. The whole way back home, from breakfast up until dinner, they shared their stories of everything after Preston. Rio felt a huge weight fall off his chest as he let himself speak freely. When he looked at Will, he didn’t see a fragile boy, or a patient, or a life that he had destroyed. He was simply the son of the man Rio once loved. 

From then on, the soldier vowed to give Will a long and happy life in Paradise, as he had always deserved. He wasn’t his father, but he would look after him however he knew best. After all, the best way to honor Jason was to follow in his footsteps, to love what he had died to protect.

[gloriabomfim]

My Rubbadubbers OC Dizzy

In the whimsical realm of the Rubbadubbers, amidst the frolic of bath-time adventures, a unique and heartwarming bond blossomed between the charming purple rubber baby whale, Winona, and her aquatic companion, a baby blue dolphin named "Dizzy." While the Rubbadubbers each brought their distinctive personalities to the vibrant ensemble, the relationship between Winona and Dizzy added an extra layer of tenderness to the narrative tapestry.

Dizzy, a small and sprightly dolphin, mirrored Winona's aquatic nature. His baby blue hue evoked the calmness of the ocean, while his playful demeanor captured the spirit of youthful companionship. In the imaginative world of the Rubbadubbers, Dizzy was not just a toy; he was a symbol of camaraderie and support, demonstrating the magic of connections that transcended the ordinary.

Winona's interactions with Dizzy spoke volumes without the need for words. Their playful exchanges and synchronized movements showcased a beautiful harmony that went beyond mere friendship. As Winona emitted her endearing squeaks, Dizzy responded with gentle clicks and echoes, forming a unique language that resonated with the pure innocence of childhood.

Just as Winona was mute and relied on her joyful squeaks to communicate, Dizzy's cheerful clicks served as his way of reaching out. Together, they exemplified the power of understanding beyond words, where gestures and expressions formed a bridge that united their playful spirits. Dizzy's presence was a constant reminder that even in a world of imaginative adventures, genuine connections could be formed and cherished.

Their interactions often saw Dizzy keeping pace with Winona, his movements mirroring hers as they explored the watery realm of the bathroom together. Whether it was playful spins, synchronized splashes, or graceful twirls, their companionship was an embodiment of joy and harmony. Dizzy's joyful flips and leaps echoed Winona's spirited nature, creating a symphony of delight that resonated with audiences, young and old.

The Rubbadubbers' world was a canvas of creativity and life lessons, and the bond between Winona and Dizzy added a layer of emotional depth that tugged at the heartstrings. In their shared play, their supportive gestures, and their moments of shared wonder, Winona and Dizzy represented the essence of companionship in a world where even the most unlikely friendships could flourish.

As the Rubbadubbers navigated their whimsical adventures, Winona and Dizzy's relationship became a source of inspiration. Their friendship was a testament to the magic that occurs when two beings connect on a level beyond words, creating a bond that added a touch of poignant beauty to the enchanting tales of the Rubberdubbers.