#At least people in real life are usually normal

[himabyul]

Satan & Violins

I share a lot of similarities with Satan, even when before they canonized something about him; one of them being violinist!Satan😭 In spite of me having a mini identity crisis following the drop of his canon violinist card, i think it makes sense! heres why.

Disclaimer!

1. I have not picked up an instrument in years

2. This is purely bcuz my brain is so busy thinking abt Satan so its kinda rambly. . Pls bare w me T_T

3. THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY

4. Not too used to tumblr writing just yet sorry if it's messy

(Uploaded on my twitter aswell :D)

The violin and its family, unlike other string instruments (ex. the guitar), doesnt have these little things (that i forgor the name of because im a bad musician) that separates every note. those little separating thingies are the reason why people who dont know shit about playing a key on guitar but memorize musical scales (me) is at least able to strum a simple one octave melody.

Obviously, the two come in with their one difficulty (i prefer the violin myself), but it's a little bit harder to pull that trick with the violin. As you can see, theres not exactly something to tell you where each note begins or where they end. Nothing to determine where is where. You simply have to memorize the placement and the distance between each note. You basically play the violin with Your Gut (1). We'll keep this in mind for now.

Moving on, let's talk about body posture.

Beginner violinist usually directlty face towards the strings when playing, as they aren't used to letting their 'gut' lead the show. However, more experienced players would find no need to do so. A quick glance at Satan's art could tell us he was at least above beginner level to be brave enough to face (us) instead.

When you're not facing your violin, you would usually lean your head towards it, resulting in your ear becoming the closest thing to it- here's a real life example:

Now, if there was anything my teacher warned me before starting violin, is that even without having your ear be the closest thing to it, the strings are already LOUD😭 so its even louder when you alr have ur ear on it. The violin is considered one of the most emotional instruments ever, their lower sound resemble what we use to express sadness in speech. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you as a player are forced to feel what you're playing. Thus is also why you play the violin with Your Heart (2).

So, how does this tie into Satan? It's no secret that our handsome man is incredibly romantic, and to me if he ever wants to express something to us and making sure the message is clearly received, the equally emotional violin is his best bet! The violin allows Satan to play heartwrenching notes that would quickly be felt by the listener.

Lets get technical.

There's still another side of the violin, as there is another side to Satan. The way you stroke your bow matters, the way you angle it so you'll only hit the notes you want. (thankfully if you mess up, the violin is made to still sound graceful😂). Satan too, is quite the detail oriented person. He is tactical, analytical, observant, a man obsessed with striving to be the perfect one, etc etc. The need of preciseness of the violin is definitely right up his alley. The way you need everything to be correct to be rewarded for a beautiful sound. Idk exactly where I'm going with this but it's basically intelligence meets emotion kinda thing, do you see it too?!?!

In conclusion, the violin is a wonderful instrument that both requires great attention to detail yet is also incredibly emotional and heartfelt, an instrument that requires your gut and heart guide your play without abandoning technique. Satan, the incredibly smart yet fluffy softie, is quite literally made for this and I LOVE HIM for that RAAAAAAHHHH. im normal.

THATS IT RLLY im soooo sorry if it's incredibly messy please have a sugarry picture <3 ily

#obey me satan #satan obey me #yes i like omori how did you know #thinking abt me and satan covering duet mghhhnnnhhhh #STAN SATAN OUR MULTI TALENTED KING FOR CLEAR SKIN #rambling a bit #obey me #obey me nightbringer

[tumblingxelian]

Trope - Disney Princess Syndrome

"Disney Princess Syndrome" is my personal name for the trope of a rich or powerful character portrayed as "Nice", "Good" or "Down to earth". Because they want to hang around "Normal/Real people" and want to be treated like a "Regular person" or otherwise does not think their phenomenal wealth makes them abnormal.

This trope/character concept is usually contrasted against another rich or powerful persons who flaunts their wealth intentionally, is aware they are rich and tends to be snooty, cocky or otherwise act in a manner that is more reflective of their phenomenal wealth.

Usually these characters are contrasted so that we like the former but hate the latter but weirdly… I often find myself either disliking both or liking the latter more. Largely cos they at least seem self aware of their circumstances and so come off as less frustratingly flippant or willfully ignorant.

Examples will be drawn from, Miraculous Ladybug.

I will largely avoid talking about how X character was raised, or trauma that might influence this behavior. But keep in mind people with bad home lives can often act out in ways that don't make them a "good" victim.

In ML, you have "Wants to be a normal boy" Adrien, "Wants to meet sincere people" Princes Ali, and "This is all so artificial" Musician Jagged Stone. They are contrasted against hotel heiress, Mayors daughter & smug about it Chloe.

Now:

Chloe's a brat, a jerk & a snob to be sure, however I still somehow find her less hypocritical or deluded than these other three because at least she seems aware of her circumstances and what they mean for her VS others. Jagged treats doing a small autograph session with the mayor like its some horrible imposition and he flips out at being expected to follow trends he deems artificial. But he also drags his literal assistant with him everywhere to manage his life, keeps a pet alligator on him at all times & can be extremely rude and demanding. But it never feels acknowledged in the same way as with Chloe, because he's 'real'. Prince Ali acts like its weird for people to try and charm or otherwise please him when assigned to give him a tour for a whole event about himself. He also seems to neglect what would be fairly typical greetings for someone of his class & position despite likely being taught them. This again ties into making him seem 'genuine' but comes off as just odd. Adrien balances it best by wanting his father to be less controlling and his father is indeed controlling. But he's also only bothered by Chloe, her parents or his fathers haughty behavior if it alienates him or people he wants to be friends with. He laughs it off or otherwise tends to ignore it with staff but is meant to be better.

This isn't to say a character 'can't' want these things, or find the trappings of wealth utterly unsatisfying. Especially children who are not themselves actually rich and exist at the whims of their parents who are often functionally immune to the law.

Its more an issue with how the trope tends to be executed. Both in terms of the "Disney Princess" who wants to be "Out there" having no self awareness of their wealth, or internal hypocrisy. With this being framed as more endearing than anything, despite often coming off as entitled or selfish by accident.

Or in how the rich jerk just ends up feeling more grounded, or accidentally becomes sympathetic because they are usually an antagonist. Thus meaning they not only have to lose, but usually are surrounded by people like themselves. Leaving the impression their behavior is less to do with having the money to get away with t and more born of mistreatment.

& that as they say is that.

#Meta #Text Post #Miraculous Ladybug #Disney Princess Syndrome

[femalefemur]

The Illusion of Freedom: Part One

part two

warnings: kidnapping, cannibalism, dead dove do not eat, please let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 2.6k

A/N: This is the first part of this work, while there is no actual cannibalism in this part there are some allusions to it and there is actual cannibalism in this work overall. I have also tried to make reader as gender neutral as possible with no real defining features, so I hope they do actually come across as gender neutral.

The weather was cold, wind howling as rain poured down in heavy sheets outside, making the night seem even darker than usual. There were no stars in the sky that you could see, no shining beacon in the darkness that was slowly seeping in all around you. All you had were the torches that lined the walls of your chambers, sitting on the bed before two loud thumps on the heavy wooden door brought you to your feet. 

Two of the men you had become familiar with guided you out of your room, the skull adorning the taller one’s face no longer scaring you as it once had and the unusual hairstyle on the other becoming normal. It had been months since you had been here, months of being pampered and fawned over, months of preparing and now the night had finally arrived. Your eyes focused on the torches and candles that lined the hallways of the castle as you walked towards the ceremonial chamber. 

The castle was ancient and had stood there since civilisation had started. It had stood tall and proud since humankind had learned to carve stone to make structures, back when everyday people would still sacrifice to the Gods. It housed you now, not royalty of any kind but the castle didn’t care as it had not been built to house royalty, even if they had occasionally taken residence in it. No, it was built to house magic, forces that humans still didn’t fully understand even if they dabbled in the mystic arts. Forces that were neither good nor evil but forces that demanded rituals and sacrifices. The magic was why you had been taken from your life and brought here to your demise. 

You had been walking to the market, it was early morning and the dew was still settling on the grass as you walked past the few fields of your family’s farm. The walk to the market was a long one and you hadn’t been able to take the horse as he was needed for another errand, so there you were, walking at the crack of dawn to the market. All of this just so you could sell some milk and hopefully buy a cake from the baker as a special treat for your younger sibling’s birthday. That dream had gone down the drain when you were about halfway to town. The gentle clinking of the milk bottles in your bag had been your only companion as you’d softly hummed to yourself and kicked a small rock, wanting to see how far you could take it without losing it. You hadn’t noticed the shadows lurking in the woods that grew on the side of the road, hadn’t noticed the odd silence that came from them. There was not a single bird nor insect chirping to signal a new day, just complete and total silence emanating from the tall trees that had stood like guards beside the road since the beginning of time. It had come as a surprise at the very least when a leather gloved hand had covered your mouth and muffled any attempt of a scream. Your teeth had no effect on the large man as you managed to clamp down on his fingers while you kicked and flailed, your bag crashing onto the road and the milk bottles shattering. Your last thoughts were of how disappointed your younger sibling was going to be with no cake as you watched the milk seep through the bag and onto the dirt road.

When you awoke you had found yourself in a plush bed, the sun high in the sky and a hulking figure watching you intently from the one dark corner in your room where the sunlight did not reach. You’d stared wide eyed as the figure stepped forward, the skull on his face causing you to take a sharp breath and clutch the duvet. You were sure you had died on that road, that this was the afterlife and the reaper was here to collect. It had to be. Why else would you be in such comfort? As the figure stepped forward and you remained frozen in place, you had realised that no it was not in fact the reaper coming for your immortal soul but rather a man. A large and imposing man who stared at you with honey brown eyes that seemed to hold a reverence for you that you had never seen before in your life. His gaze had made you shudder almost uncomfortably as you stared back at the man, watching him as he approached you and placed a hand gently on top of yours, that were still gripping the duvet with enough strength to leave your knuckles aching. 

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you” his voice was rough and deep as he spoke, like stones grinding against each other but it wasn’t unpleasant, rather the opposite. 

“Where am I?” Your tongue had felt heavy and thick in your mouth, words seemed difficult to form and you had realised that your head had a dull thumping ache to it.

“Home.” It was the only answer he had given before he’d picked up the glass of water on the bedside table and pushed it into your hands.

You had stared at the water for a moment before deciding there was no harm in drinking it. If it was drugged then at the very least you wouldn’t be awake for whatever this giant of a man had planned. Nothing happened though, the water had slid down your throat cold and calming as you’d greedily drank every last drop. A pleased smile had stretched across your captor’s face before he’d placed the glass down and hoisted you into his arms, carrying you out of the room as you’d stared in shock. 

“Where are you taking me?” it had come out a lot softer than you’d intended and you had mentally kicked yourself for sounding so weak.

“To meet the others,” he replied.

“The others?” You’d frowned in confusion as you looked at him.

The faint sound of people chattering had filled your ears the closer you’d got to the room at the end of the hall. Intrigue had filled your mind and you’d stared intently at the doors as if you were willing your ears to make the muffled words clearer and listen to the conversation that had been so raptly taking place. The man whose arms you were in had pushed the heavy door open with ease, and the chatter had immediately stopped as all eyes had fallen onto you. You’d watched as the three other men in the room stood, all of them tall, though not as tall as the man who held you in his arms, and all of them handsome, almost devastatingly so. 

“Well aren’t they bonnie?” the shortest of them had grinned as he’d approached you, his blue eyes sparkling like crystals. 

“What are you going to do to me?” you’d stared at them all and curled a little further into the man who was holding you. 

“Nothing little lamb, nothing yet” a gruff chuckle had come out of the man closest to you, a beard on his face and deep blue eyes like the ocean that sucked you in, threatening to drown you if you looked too long.

Your brow furrowed at his answer but you nodded slightly despite your confusion. You were safe, for now at least, and that was all that mattered. You could devise a way to escape in the time you had and hopefully be gone before they did whatever it was they had planned. 

You’d watched them warily for the next few days as you explored the castle looking for an escape. You’d learned their names over the meals you all shared. The man with the skull on his face was known as Ghost, the shortest was Soap, the prettiest man you had ever laid eyes on was Gaz and the man with the beard, their leader, was John. You didn’t know any of their real names besides John’s and you’d suspected that they’d prefer to keep it that way. They were mages you had also learned and they were quite powerful, this castle was their home or rather they were custodians to it for as long as they walked this earth. It was their sacred duty to care for the castle, to protect it, fight for it and feed it. In turn they were given access to knowledge beyond the average human’s comprehension, knowledge so powerful that it was kept under lock and key at the hands of those who had long since left this plane of existence. 

During your exploration you had been followed by Gaz, he was the most trusted John had assured you, waving off Soap as he stared at you with hungry eyes and an open maw. Still you had felt slight discomfort as the beautiful man followed you and pointed out the architecture or priceless works of art that seemed to move when you looked at them from the corner of your eye. His gaze was too sharp, too keen as he watched every move you made, every twitch of your fingers and every breath that expanded your lungs. You felt like prey being watched by a predator that was far too smart to let you know it had been tracking you. A predator that would rather befriend you and lure you into his gaping maw with honeyed words and gentle gazes. Rather than a predator that would corner you as you shook from terror and sink its teeth into you, as you suspect Soap would do, given the chance. 

“Do you like the castle?” Gaz had asked one afternoon as you’d climbed the spiralling stairs of one of the towers.

“It’s beautiful…yes…” you’d nodded as you’d stared out beyond the castle grounds, squinting against the sunlight only to see the vast forest that surrounded the castle.

Gaz had laughed at your baffled expression, giving you a knowing look as you both stood there and looked at each other. 

“There’s no escaping here little lamb” he’d grinned at you, teeth sharp and glinting in the sunlight for a split second before he schooled his expression.

You had just nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat, staring out at the sea of trees and unfamiliar landscape. Even if you’d managed to leave the actual castle itself you’d never be able to exit the forest. It was too large, unnaturally so which made you suspect that there was magic at play in there. You would probably be found too quickly, which would be a mercy considering the other option would be to starve to death in the forest, or die from the unknown creatures that lurked in its depths. 

So you had accepted your fate, like an animal awaiting its slaughter at the hands of those who had raised it with love, fed it when it was hungry and sheltered it when it was cold. You were never told what exactly would happen to you, but from the snippets of conversations you’d overheard, you had gathered it was some kind of ritual and you were to be the sacrifice. You’d spent that day sitting in whatever sunlight you could find, desperate to soak in the warmth and hoping it would rid your mind of what you had heard. Gaz was by your side as usual as you stared up at the clouds and watched the shapes they made. Your mind drifted back to laying in the fields with your siblings and pointing at the clouds that were shaped like rabbits and cows. You had all laughed when you had spotted one shaped like the mean goose on a neighbouring farm, who would chase you if you so much as walked past their fence. Its toothed beak nipping at your heels as you ran as fast as you could to escape the tiny devil and reach your destination. 

Gaz had watched you intently as you both sat on the warm stone of the castle steps, his eyes glinting in the sunlight and making them seem like deep pools of amber that you could swim in forever. You’d stared back at him after a while of feeling his gaze on you, turning as he’d pointed out a cloud that looked like a horse. A small smile had graced your lips as you nodded and in turn pointed out one that looked like a house with a puffing chimney. That was how you had spent that afternoon, in the company of a man who was one of your captors but had also become a friend, or as close to a friend as you could have in this strange place. It had brought you some happiness and distracted you from the words you had overheard earlier. You had talked with Gaz for the rest of the afternoon as you both watched the clouds and pointed out interesting shapes to each other until the sun had finally set and you were ushered back inside, warmed from its rays. That night at dinner the others had picked up on your lightened mood. Soap had hounded you about what happened to make you change, at least until John had finally told him to leave you alone. You and Gaz had exchanged a look before laughing, all while Soap had looked between the two of you curiously.

The following days passed much the same, spending it with Gaz as you two talked, he’d ask about your family and you’d share all the details of your upbringing. In turn you had asked about his family but all you had gotten was a shrug and a wave of his hand as he told you that mages rarely ever knew their families, if they even had one to begin with. His words had piqued your curiosity but you’d decided not to push the man as you saw the glint of darkness behind his eyes as he had talked. Eventually Soap and Ghost joined you and Gaz, Ghost holding back Soap any time he got too close or pressed you too much for details of your life. 

You had settled into a semblance of a routine, you would wake up, make yourself presentable, adorning yourself in the fine silks and hand embroidered garments that lined your closet, have breakfast and then spend your day with the three men who now seemed to be permanently glued to your side. Most days you would have a picnic on the grounds with the other three, a plush blanket laid out under the giant oak tree and enough food to feed an army. You would laze in the warm air and watch the sunlight dance on the blanket as it filtered through the leaves of the tree. The three of you would often spend far longer than just lunch sitting on the blanket, either talking or in more recent days, the men would read you stories of far away lands and battles of old. This would last until you all decided it was time for an afternoon nap, a decision that was never discussed but rather occurred naturally as you each slowly fell asleep together on the blanket, huddled against each other in a snug pile. On days when you all had too much energy you would chase each other, running through the garden and the intricate maze as you all laughed and pushed against each other. This would last until the sun had set and you were forced to go inside. Blanket in hand as you all cleaned up before dinner, one of two meals where you would actually see and converse with John. After dinner you would retire to your chambers and the others would follow John to who knows where. You suspected they’d gone to hone their craft and read from texts that were transcribed in now long dead languages, to gain knowledge from those beyond the veil.

#cannibalism #tw cannibalism #reader fic #task force 141 #taskforce 141 #cod #x reader #141 x reader #reader insert #reader insert fic #cod x reader #captain price #captain john price #gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #soap #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

There's something so funny about the fn*f creator (Scott) being an openly unapologetic pro life, republican, Trump supporter while still having big YouTubers play his games AND having a movie being made, meanwhile JKR is critical (not even doesn't support) of one thing and nobody can even talk about Harry Potter anymore. She wasn't even in the fucking anniversary special of her own goddamn series. Scott literally donated money to trump's campaigns. He is an open republican. I have heard zilch against his movie. Nobody is hating on Josh hutcherson for being in it. No YouTubers is being slammed for playing his game. It may as well be like it never happened. Meanwhile there are posts on here with thousands of likes talking about how if you so much as think about Harry potter then you're a bad person and should kill yourself. Everyone is bummed about the fact M*rk*pl*er won't be in the movie, meanwhile there are people who are giving earnest pleas not to hate on the children cast in the HBO version of HP. Why does nobody care? What fucking gives? What the hell is this? Scott literally openly supports Trump and he's more beloved than a democratic woman who thinks maybeeee taking people to court for saying 'sex is real' is a bit far? Why aren't fn*f fans labeled as bad people? Why isn't their support of fn*f seen as support of Scott and his views? The fuck is this double standard.

#ThErE BoTh BaD #Y'all don't fucking act like it tho #Honestly I don't even know how to feel about the fact Scott's reddit post has so much support #It shows that there are more people outside of the echo chamber than you'd think #But also I'm not sure it's a good thing people are willing to dismiss an open trump supporter who is pro life #Fucking God #I mean #At least people in real life are usually normal

[friendofthecrows]

Wish I had more of that stereotypical "refined genius psychopath mystery villain" vibes and less "dysfunctional no sleep cycle can't tell when/if they have emotions traumatized mess doesn't feel like a human paranoid future true crime psychopath" vibes. So that was word salad. Moving on.

#i have been described as a genius but unfortunately the #aspd and other mental illnesses mess with my impulse control and risk vs return and energy/motivation levels #so it kind of gets in the way of showing off my intelligence most of the time #which probably makes me less insufferable but also leads to some people underestimating me #or just thinking of me as too much of a mess in general #both of which i hate #and when it comes to the 'coolness/sophistication factor' vs 'unfortunate creature that needs to stop interacting with humans vibe' well. #trust me i would go into seclusion for the rest of time if it was financially viable and if #my various projects didn't require working with other people #ugh I'm not really that upset today I'm just frustrated by my brain #also my body and other people and the universe and the concept of time but that's a whole different subject #sometimes the stars align and it's like the best aspects of everything 'wrong' with me are displaying at once #and i actually feel like myself and like myself #then something shifts idk but the worse things start showing again and the best bits lose some of their influence and #suddenly I'm struggling to get through a day with a decent level of functionality and without engaging in destructive behaviors #the AND is very important because i can usually do or. At least i have that i guess #today i don't feel like a person i feel like a poorly written character who's been brought into real life #only to find out that when faced with normal everyday problems #their fucked up little traits are way more of a disadvantage than they thought #i could probably blame it on the trauma or the aspd or a million other things #but maybe it's just because i am the person i am #and idk how to feel about that #just want the stars to align again

[oscalesoffeeling]

i don't know if it's normal to have an f/o who lives in your head most hours of the day and guides you through your day and whom you carry on-going conversations with and at this point i'm too afraid to ask

#he is my elevated imaginary friend. he hangs around and helps me take care of myself. #sometimes i get so surprised when i hear that other people can just turn their fantasies with their f/os on and off at will pretty easily #bc i have to drag myself out of mine. maybe that's just because i'm so miserable irl that the fantasies are my main source of happiness? #and i hate having to face how shitty my life is atm. #self shipping is like a constant near 24/7 thing for me. i am delusional about it to an extent but i can usually tell #after the fact what was real or not even if it takes me a bit to recover. and i consider my f/os to be my real partners and really wish #to be with them. i feel like we belong together. whenever i'm alone i usually am imagining at least one or two of them with me #i mean i do it when other people are around just not out loud/physically reacting. #there isn't a problem with that i know. i actually benefit from it a lot bc it makes me #happy and helps me take care of myself. just. idk. it's a constant thing for me and i feel like while it's not negatively impacting me #that it isn't really a normal experience to just. Always have a guy in your head. he's my best friend my husband my love my life etc. like #i'm not complaining. he's a delight. i'm just starting to think i might be more delusional about my f/os than i #previously thought lmao. anyway. #ellie rambles about stuff #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)

[dan-crimes]

Mfs can't understand a blunt mf they always gotta try and read between the lines or straight up deny the words you're saying and deny how you feel

#I just woke up so Imma overshare without worrying abt it lmao #like yeah people should be wary there are some messed up people out there but like #I'm being straight up with you I do not have the energy to keep up a lie and I just think it is much easier to have clear communication #people just instantly assume that I'm up to something or not being sincere they don't even give me a chance #bcuz if they did they would instantly be able to tell that I am just like that and I am being as straight up as I possibly can #people just aren't use to that ig #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that's why I just assume everyone is telling the truth to me and if they did lie my trust in them would break thru those lies #they will eventually tell me the truth if they feel they can trust me and if they don't then that is their business #if someone spends all their time formulating lies for me then that is /their/ energy wasted. not mine lmao #just like let go bro it ain't a big deal to just say stuff straight up you just gotta figure out the right ways to say stuff is all #ya just gotta be real with urself and sometimes shit it confusing af and that is normal brains tend to just fuck around #situations aren't black and white so you might seem hypocritical but again that's life #the best you can do is show how you feel thru actions when words fail you #and people might not understand you but at least you know how you are and you either accept it or make efforts to get better #~.~ me when I get too into it listen I got a little sibling who doesn't understand lots of stuff like I'm trying to teach them things #so I kinda go into this mode a lot of just like trying to explain stuff mostly abt understanding emotions and that other people feel things #I also talk abt this stuff with my other sibling but they are older so it's usually a lot of trying to figure out brain stuff #and trying to come to an understand etc etc I like to talk about these types of things and I might not have all the answer but like #I try. it doesn't work for everyone but hopefully it can at least help people discover what DOES help them #like it might seem like I value honesty a lot but I honestly don't care if people lie to me that is their business ✌️😋 #like it only bothers me when it's obvious like Oh I didn't put that dish there I put it somewhere else Well buddy ur the only other person #who else did it or like Oh I didn't say anything I didn't say a word and it's like Buddy I know you did it just own up it's over with #people lie a lot in an attempt to avoid getting in trouble and specifically people getting angry at them but like I'm not the type to argue #I'm not gonna get mad and if I do I'll cool down pretty easily as long as we actually talk things out but like I don't get mad often #I don't really mind most things like if you talk shit behind my back that's not my business lmao just goes to show ur own character #like so many things are not my problem and simply show ur own judge of character #if you don't like me simply don't talk to me 😌 it's really not a big deal I don't mind at all #anyway I ramble... I could likely ramble more but I assume Imma run outta tag space soon

[sooniebby]

I’m back…had a random thought when listening to men moaning and I just had to write it for y’all.. you know the drill, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock

Smut fic—in which reader has the terrible experience of being able to read minds. It was fun at first when you first found out at age ten.. but then it just got bad because you couldn’t control it

Hearing your mom’s thoughts about your dad was traumatizing to say the least. As you grew older, you basically learned to tune people out by filling your head with your own thoughts. It usually works.

And it was your usual day in your philosophy class at the university you dreamed of going to.. and it was the usual in that you sat next to this random girl who slept the entire time. Which was good, you didn’t have to worry about her thoughts.

But much to your surprise, someone sat next to you. It was pretty shocking. This guy was “popular” in the sense he was handsome and everyone wanted to be near him.

He usually only sat next to his friends but today he was next to you..? Odd—but you didn’t care that much. You now had to focus on making sure his thoughts didn’t distract you from your professor..

But you did want to take a little peak—just to see what a guy like him would be thinking. At most, you expected him to be focused on taking notes

This guy… is he an actor, you thought to yourself. He looked to be paying attention but the only thing on his mind was sex.. with you.

And not just a fleeting glimpse of sex. it was.. wow, pretty graphic.

He was fantasizing about fucking you in an empty classroom. The classroom you two were in right now. You sprawled on the teacher’s desk, back arched with your legs being pushed towards you.

He was fucking you. Very harsh. He had a very vivid dream of how you’d look fucked out on the table—your moans filling the empty classroom.

His fantasy was solely on you. How you cried, how you arched your back, how you whined his name.. suddenly, he was holding tightly on your neck, lightly squeezing it while his thrusts began to practically knock your breath away.

“You sound so cute.. but you can be louder, yeah?” His fantasy self said to you, reaching down and slapping your ass which earned a scream. Which embarrassingly enough caused you to flinch in real life.

Okay, that’s enough..! You thought to yourself, looking away with a blush. Holy shit. This random guy… was dreaming about having sex with you?! But you guys didn’t even speak.. why.. did he like you?

You couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying hard to not let his thoughts flood your mind again. He was certainly hot—which made sense why a lot girls kept fangirling about him.. Black hair slicked back with gel, a nice nose, plump lips girls were jealous of, a lean body, cat-like eyes..

why was he into you?

He could have anyone.. but he’s thinking about you?

By accident, a slip of his thoughts flooded you again. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore, he was actually focused on his notes. With a sigh, you decided to believe you were just going crazy and took a sip from your water bottle.

‘His mouth is so small.. would it actually be able to fit around my cock?’

You coughed heavily as water slipped out of your mouth. Much to your shock, the perverted guy handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth. You muttered a thank you, cleaning your chin and mouth.

Jesus, this guy is going to be the death of you.

‘He’s so cute…I hope he likes guys…’

You sighed, happy that he was finally thinking about you normally.

‘Ah.. what if it was my cum instead of water on his lips..? Oh, too much don’t wanna pop a boner in class.’

You could only cough once more in shock and cover your ears. Oh, you needed him away from you fast. But it seemed like he was going to actually start pursuing you soon..

But what you really wondered is if you could survive hearing his thoughts on a daily basis.. and by the embarrassing boner you were sporting right now

Yeah, you were going to be having boners in philosophy often.

‘Does he even like giving blowjobs..? Hope so.. it’d be hot cumming in his mouth..having it overflow.. oops, boner!’

This was going to be a long day…

My first ever one where the guy actually thinks and technically talks… :0! This was fun if you guys want, I’ll definitely expand on it. For now, Imma continue the roommate for tmmr <3

Yoga instructor is coming soon, can’t wait to have an actual fic for him, it’ll be in 2nd person!

Tag list: @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow (ask to added to my tag list to be tagged in all of my works :3)

#bottom male reader #uke male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #x male reader #smut prompts

[sunderwight]

Shang Qinghua strikes me as the type who would only pursue a particular cultivation skill if it had some utility to making his everyday life easier or some specific task more doable, not even register that he'd achieved anything impressive with his cultivation in the process, and then carry on firm in the belief that this is a normal skill that every other cultivator has probably already acquired. Because if it's useful, why wouldn't they?

Like he thinks cultivation is cool and all, but (as can be evidenced by some of his writing choices) he's not really interested in it for its own sake. So everything he chooses to pursue has a reason. Usually that reason is "letting him be done with this tedious task so that he can possibly scrape together some free time, or at least more time to do other tasks."

This is why, despite sword arts being very cool and dashing and all, Shang Qinghua doesn't really bother learning a lot of swordsmanship or fighting skills. There are pretty few situations where wielding a sword is useful, most of those situations are ones which Shang Qinghua doesn't want to be involved in, and nearly all of his martial siblings are better at and more interested in fighting anyway.

He knows that martial prowess is popular and attractive, but it's boring. Sword drills? Dull as hell. There's a reason he came up with a super cursed sword that let his protagonist immediately win almost any fight, with consequences that just led to more interesting drama or conflicts to write about. His fight scenes were at least as boring and repetitive as his sex scenes, let's be real.

The end result is that Shang Qinghua's cultivation is probably deeply weird.

Like he's done muscle-reinforcement but not for combat, it's so that if he needs to he can literally pick up a recalcitrant ox and move it. He mastered inedia because remembering to eat and finding a moment to do it during An Ding's inventory week was harder. He introduced flying carpets to the setting after he transmigrated because figuring out how to transport items on some compatible spiritual device that was bigger than a sword blade, and could thus hold like a chest of goods or baskets of supplies, was way too convenient to pass up. He has selective knowledge of various skills, like alchemy, medicine, smithing, etc, things that are usually only brought up at the master level (thanks to his author knowledge cheat) but he doesn't know most of the basics of those skills, and he only deploys his knowledge for like, hyper specific tasks largely unrelated to the field.

He probably drives Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei crazy because he'll drop expert niche knowledge that they know is expert niche knowledge into a random discussion out of the blue, but then can't actually sustain a conversation about it because he doesn't know all the usual accompanying information. Mu Qingfang counting slowly backwards from ten because somehow Shang Qinghua knows that a super rare tonic made from a believed-to-be-extinct plant can bestow temporarily telekinesis to those who imbibe it, but doesn't know anything else about the medicinal uses of the plant, the history of the tonic, or other tonics that can achieve similar results with varying side-effects. But he knows what this one hyper-specific thing will do and he knows, very very vaguely, how to make it. Somehow.

Which would be less weird if it was just one thing, because people do pick up odd bits of knowledge or skills from unexpected places now and again. But it happens all the time. Seemingly at complete random! He also, as said, doesn't just do it with knowledge but with skills. No idea of basic leveling up, Shang Qinghua singles out what he wants from a process and then just does enough to get it and skips everything else that usually goes with it.

I bet he's like thirty before it comes to light that he has no idea how to actually do basic meditation, or something, and Yue Qingyuan does that thing where he smiles placidly while dying inside because how? Shang-shidi is a peak lord! How does a peak lord not know how to meditate properly?!

(In Shang Qinghua's defense, meditating involves spending a lot of time just focusing on one's self and not doing anything else, and he is a busy man! And he actually has mastered a form of meditation, but it's a kind Cang Qiong doesn't usually teach and that you do while also performing repetitive tasks. Usually those repetitive tasks are things like "repeatedly punching the exact same spot on a tree until the tree topples" but Shang Qinghua's are more like "reviewing a thousand nearly identical requisition forms and eating melon seeds at a steady rate" type stuff. When other people expect him to meditate he just sits quietly for a minute until they leave.)

#svsss #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — bakugou hates feeling jealous. but you make it worthwhile.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader. absolutely none. sfw. / note. katsuki is a cutie patootie.

jealous bakugou is something else. he doesn’t think he’s all that possessive of you at all - he doesn’t care if your outfit is skimpy or if you have guy friends. bakugou regards himself as very secure in his relationship with you.

until he hears what guys have to say about you. then he gets a little crazy.

it’s an open day where he’s helping a group of lackies and hero interns with integrating into his agency and it’s pretty innocent at first. kiri and deku are doing most of the heavy lifting with talking with the prospective sidekicks and heroes (katsuki is very content with the extras he has already). he’s already kind of distracted by seeing you this morning - you offered to lift a hand and do some extra work around his agency for today due to the unusual amount of people scoping his place out and why would he pass on an offer to see you around his agency all day?

unfortunately for katsuki, it means that he’s being increasingly more distant than he usually is and the interns can feel the disgusted energy emitting from every fibre in his body. it’s not like he’s trying to hide it though - what a waste to have you come to his workplace and only catch glimpses of your hair and your scent.

“kacch- dynamight? what do you look for in a sidekick who wants to potentially join this agency,” asks izuku, pulling his friend out of his thoughts. katsuki looks at the crowd of young, probably high school kids and they basically cower under his gaze. he recognises a few of them from other, unimportant events he can’t seem to specifically recall. god, he wants to bite back at them but he shrugs in annoyance.

“don’t piss me off and do as you’re told. simple as but it seems like you lot would still f-”, deku quickly interjects katsuki and yells out, “okay! let’s take a quick 10 minute break! just have a look around and we’re free if you have any questions you want to ask!”

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“what is with you today, kacchan? you’re more… insolent than usual,” asks izuku slowly, watching the expression on his blond’s face meld into a face of indifference.

“maybe it’s the fact that i don’t care about these idiots who’re just making a goddamn mess of the place. i don’t need more extras to fuck shit up f’me,” bakugou grumbles. kirishima pats his moody friends on the back and goes to speak when-

“well at least the rumours about dynamight are true. that guy is a fucking mood killer,” says some guy standing in the corner of the reception area, who looks to be a sidekick and is accompanied by other unknown up and coming ‘extras’ as Katsuki woukd put it.

“tell me about it. the guys here fucking suck. for once, i’m wishing that we were stuck with the female pros instead. have you seen uravity? she’s sexier in real life,” pipes up some other guy and the rest holler and hoot.

the three pros look at each other, with bakugou looking at kirishima and deku with knowing, smug eyes.

“i’m just going to interrupt their conversation-” says kirishima, attempting to walk over until another lackey pipes up.

“but have you seen y/h/n? what a woman. shame she’s not in her hero suit. what i would do for a woman like that,” grunts some pathetic looking guy. he’s spindly and limp and looks akin to a wet noodle.

it doesn’t stop katsuki from seething though.

kirishima and izuku slowly turn to look at their friend - who’s practically steaming in his hero uniform. all katsuki can see is red and violence - which isn’t really unlike from what he normally sees but it’s different this time. this time it’s about you.

he sees the group of gross, teenage boys point to where you’re standing: you’re leaning over the receptionist desk and just from the behind can katsuki appreciate how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a short black turtleneck dress with orange accents (you told him that you wanted to wear his colours to his agency) and in any other setting would katsuki run his hands over you and compliment and kiss you till you were shying away from him.

bakugou knew that you got unwanted attention, regardless if he was standing by you like a rabid guard dog - you were gorgeous and you knew that. he also knew that you could hold your own against a hoard of horny teenage losers and you would never look twice at them when you had him. still, that logic went out the window when he could see the same group of kids leering and pointing at where your thighs met the bottom of your dress and he wanted to kill them.

kirishima got wind of this just by looking at the blond’s expression, “please don’t blow up the place - they’re just dumb kids! think about how hard we worked for this agency,” pleads kirishima.

“he’s too far gone,” izuku sadly laments as they watch bakugou stride on over to you and ignore both the men’s pleas and bargains. he aggressively pushes past the disgusting collective of eyes and they break apart in shock at his intrusion through them.

you’re, however, too enamoured in your conversation with his assistant and mina- you’re looking at a pinterest board and he wants to bite you for being so cute in front of everyone. it makes him even angrier that those extras would ever think that you would give them more than a side eye and a polite wave.

you feel katsuki before you see him - his uniform-clad arm holds your waist between the desk as he slots himself into your conversation.

“so what’s this about? whatcha talking about?” katsuki asks and mina and his assistant giggle at his intrusion while you roll your eyes and turn yourself sideways to look at him.

“i would tell you but mina and akako might kill me,” you tell your boyfriend, resting a manicured hand on his chest. akako, bakugou’s assistant, laughs and nods her head:

“sorry, dynamight, our conversations are sacred. might i add your timetable tells me that you’re due to take the interns on a practice patrol in less than… 20 minutes?”

katsuki narrows his eyes at this and you chastise akako for poking at him, “leave him alone! i want him here,” before resting a hand on his stubbled jaw and scratching at his face. katsuki’s eyes close at the sensation and he opens them to take a good look at your face. the stupid kids are still a embittering thought in the back of his mind and in any given situation, he would never do this. but sometimes bakugou’s heart goes against his common sense and this was one of those times.

he leans down to slots his lips over yours and presses a gloved hand into the small of your back and you smile into the kiss while a few “awwhs,” emit in the background. bakugou opens an eye slightly to see in his peripheral vision that the gaggle of the limp-faced sidekicks are looking at him in a mixture of shock and fear and embarrassment. he also sees kirishima and izuku grab them up to guide them out of the room.

when you break from the kiss to brush at the hair on the nape of his head, he mumbles, “have i told you how much i love that dress on you?”

you giggle a little and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a few times. but you can keep telling me if you want. ‘s not like i’ll get tired of hearing it,” you whisper to him and it’s like you’re the only people in the room. he’ll tell you about what spurned this on another day. in the meanwhile, he bask in your attention until he has to go and entertain those useless jerks. it’s not like he’s going to employ any of them.

bakugou would say this is a mission accomplished in his book. yeah, he’s a little jealous and possessive. but with the way you look at him, he finds himself caring less and less about what others have to say about you.

doesn’t mean he won’t try knock them in the side of their head if the time calls for it.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

#katsuki is so cute when he’s jealous i love him #bakugo x reader #not proofread at all mb y’all #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff #bakugou x reader #i like writing now if you guys couldn’t tell #bakugou katsuki #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki. #✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕

[crappycamille]

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered… usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

#would you believe that my love language actually isn’t physical touch BHAHA #bakugou thoughts #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou comfort #my beloved

[qlossytbh]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer seem to have a lot more in common than you let yourself on to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 trauma dumping between reader and Spencer, the two of them have fucked up childhoods, sexual tension (?), mentions of schizophrenia, mentions of depression and attempted suicide, reader has a fucked up dark humor

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this was honestly just an idea that came to me while watching season one finale, he’s just so *chefs kiss* and I wanna give him a hug. BY THE WAY IM ONLY ON SEASON TWO SO DONT SPOIL and i’m still trying to develop the characters in my head. also i feel like it’d be super funny for season 1/2 Spencer to be with someone with a super sarcastic and twisted humor

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was an uncomfortable silence and you acknowledged how the events of that day personally affected Spencer. It was like the air was thick and both of you wanted to speak but didn't think of doing so. You glanced over at Reid from your spot next to one of the file drawers, wondering how he was holding up. You saw him shifting in his chair as his eyes scanned through a few of his own files that sat comfortably in his lap.

It had never even occurred to you that Spencer's mother had been schizophrenic, much less that she had been put into the Bennington sanitarium. Earlier, while she was helping out with the case, things seemed normal. Sure, she was a little reserved and seemed constantly on edge, but you thought that was just another one of her odd traits. But when you and Morgan were covering for Reid as he practically jumped head first into a room with a bombed UnSub that was keeping Rebecca Bryant hostage, he briefly started mentioning all these connection with his mother and then stated very explicitly that she was borderline schizophrenic. You looked at Morgan in shock and nearly dropped your gun in shock.

Spencer was one of those people who had always been a closed book with himself, because god knows he loves to talk about other things, but those things never associated with himself. It was like a distraction he put up for people to latch onto so he avoided people asking about him. Since you and Spencer had become friends he'd never really talked much about himself and his personal life. He always preferred hearing you ramble about some random personal drama you were dealing with. He even found it endearing how you'd arrive at work and immediately started venting rapidly and furiously about something as stupid as how you hated slow drivers or how people were waking slow on the sidewalk.

Thats probably why everyone always pried and teased when it came to your dynamic. The two of you complimented eachother perfectly, at least that's what everyone would always tell you.

Spencer could be a little more uptight and calculated, struggling to let loose while you however, usually took most things with humor. Sometimes your humor could even be a little dark and twisted. You joked around— sarcasm being your main powerhouse of humor, which unsurprisingly was very hard for Spencer to catch onto. You usually found yourself regularly explaining to Spencer that you were only joking, it happened regularly. You only found it endearing though and somewhat entertaining.

But that's exactly why you and Spencer worked so well. Spencer's grounded way of thinking helped you see things in a different light and he brought the best out of your critical thinking. He worked as a real life anchor and you helped Spencer get out of his overthinking, grounding him and helping him see things with a little more light. What you lacked he recompensted, and what he lacked you recompensated. The two of you filled the gaps the other was missing. A real power dynamic as Morgan would frequently quote.

But in situations like now, you truly wondered how much he could be potentially hiding about himself. You felt like you knew him so well but simultaneously not at all. That's what drawed you in so badly. Spencer had so much in his head and all you wanted to do was insert yourself into it and dissect every and any thought possible. You truly wanted to understand his way of thinking.

You shifted on your heels, sneaking glances at him trying to figure out how you could potentially check if he was okay. Because by the way his knee bounced nervously and the familiar furrow in his brow, you knew his head was racing uncontrollably. You let out a heavy sigh and he turned to you which only caused you to nervously look away and back down at the file in your hands. Suddenly you were the one bouncing your leg nervously.

There was this awkward wall between the two of you that you needed to break through, so without another thought, you set the file down and made your way to the couch he was sitting on. He sat on the left side, allowing his elbow to rest on the arm rest while he scanned his eyes through the papers that sat in his lap.

Without a single word, you sat on the farther right side and faced him. Your eyes bored into the side of his face and after a few seconds, he became nervous with the realization that your piercing gaze was on him. You leaned back, and kicked his foot gently in an attempt to grab his attention. He turned to you, humming silently but still clueless to your intentions.

You narrowed your eyes as him "What's going on in that pretty big brain of yours?"

He fumbled slightly with the papers in his lap as he opened his mouth to answer bu then clamped it shut. "Uh, I'm reading through the various files about the case and how we—" He started, gesturing to the papers

You were quick to cut him off. "No— I mean, how are you?"

He looked at you severely confused, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm....good?"

"Good..!" You continued, suddenly feeling your cheeks grow hot. Well this was severely embarrassing "Great, yeah that's— uhm, great."

There was a silence, again. You looked down at your hands and nervously played with the rings that sat comfortably on your fingers. It dawned over you that this was harder than you thought it was going to be. You didn't know how to approach a delicate topic with him, all you knew what to do was to joke around, so this was becoming harder for you than you had anticipated. When you looked up at him, he was looking down at you and your blazing hot cheeks.

"You're blushing," He stated bluntly, scanning your face. Your eyes suddenly blew wide and you felt yourself choke on air. "Which either means you're feeling embarrassed, or nervous, or—"

"What? No!—" You groaned and pointed a finger at him. "Don't go all profiler on me. I'm the one who asked you how you were doing!"

"But didn't I specify that I was doing good...?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused. You deadpanned at your best friend and he suddenly grew small under your gaze. You dragged a hand across your face with a groan.

"Spence, I'm not talking about that.." You looked him in the eye and took a breath. "Are you ok?"

Spencer definitely took his time answering. You sat there, looking somewhat stupid waiting for his answer as all he did was scan your eyes, looking for— something..? Spencer was confused and he wanted to get to where you were going with this conversation but he genuinely had no clue as to what you were trying to get at. Realizing he wasn't catching on, you continued.

"You know for someone as smart as you, you sure are slow," You shoved his foot once again with your own and smiled at him. "I didn't know about your mother."

"Oh.." He then slumped with realization as a weak smile reached his face. He looked down at his files and fumbled with the corner of one of them, folding and unfolding it gently.

"Yeah, 'oh'," You teased. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer trusted you more than life itself, he knew he could tell you but right now he felt this piercing anxiety. Vocally admitting something that he may have some underlying issues with, letting you know that, terrified him. This was hard for you as well. You cared about him and you didn't know if he was or wasn't comfortable sharing this with you. But guessing on his usual demeanor, you'd take a wild guess that opening up isn't his favorite thing to do. You couldn't blame him though, you had the same problem. He looked up at you and just seeing you there waiting for him patiently to tell you anything was enough to make him crack.

"Schizophrenia is a life long illness," He said. "Her meds keep her stable but she still has bad days at the sanitarium."

You nodded your head softly as all your attention was suddenly directed to him and only him. "I don't remember much about when she was first admitted but I do remember that she used to always read me these poems."

You smiled to yourself, and he followed suit. When his gaze fell from you to the wall in front of him, you opened your mouth to speak. "How come we never realized you ever leaving to go see her or visit her?"

"Because I didn't," He admits. His brows furrowed faintly. You sat in silence, pushing for him to continue speaking. "I don't."

"How come?" You asked, lookin down and picking at your nails. He shook his head and pulled his lips into a straight line. He didn't really have an answer to what you had just asked. His shoulders shrugged slightly as he seemed at a loss of words.

"I think it's because in some weird, meticulous, twisted way I see myself when I see her." He stated "I see myself ending up just like her."

"I write her letters everyday, just so I don't feel— you know, guilty, but knowing that schizophrenia is genetically passed on—" He shook his head. Your brows furrowed in anguish as you looked back up at Spencer. He never told you.

"Spence," You said, shaking your head. "I didn't know."

He looked at you and got nervous with the way you were looking at him so he brushed it off almost immediately. "Y-You had no way of doing so,"

"I mean yeah, I guess.." You sighed, brows furrowed. A silence then dwelled upon you and you found your head racing at a thousand miles per hour. Spencer looked over at you after a few minutes and saw your gaze glued onto the ground. Because when he noticed how the corner of your lips were tensely tugged to the side and the soft crinkle in your brows, he knew your head was racing uncontrollably.

"What's going on in that pretty brain of yours?" He said pursing his lips as he hugged his arms and nudged your foot and causing you to snap out of your trance. You suddenly felt yourself grow nervous which is something you rarely did and much less with Spencer, but his borderline flirtatious tone and the way he had quoted your previous words, caught you off guard. Your favorite thing was when Spencer teased because it was so out of character of him and it rarely happened.

Not entirely ready to talk about what had awoken in your head, you decided to joke around. "Oh okay, now I get it. You can have a pretty big brain but only I can have a pretty one?"

You could physically see how he rescanned and revisited your conversation and started growing nervous at the possibility that he had offended you in any way. "You calling me stupid, Dr. Reid?"

"What? No! I meant—" He shook his hands franticly, turning his body to face you, face growing red. "That you can uhm, also have—"

You let out a soft laugh and he stopped immediately. "Your joking, of course.."

He felt that his collar was suddenly growing tight. The way you were speaking to him was enough to cause him to melt into putty at your feet and when your laughter filled the room he could feel everything stop. His cheeks grew hot and were practically burning to the touch.

You leaned forward and pulled at the end his tie. "Now look who's blushing."

You let him go with a laugh, and fell back shaking your head as Spencer's breaths grew even shallower and he became even more nervous. You grossed your arms over your chest and looked at the floor.

"You're not alone you know," Your words had caught Spencer off guard as he tried to recompose himself. He looked over at you but your gaze remained on the floor.

"What—" He tried saying but when his voice came out all shaky, he quickly cleared it out as embarrassment seeped in. "What do you mean?"

"You're not alone with all the— fucked up family melodrama crap," You shrugged and spared him a slight glance. "I get it."

Spencer watched you closely and realized, due to your body language, the way your face was all scrunched up and basically just knowing you, that something was up and you were hiding something. He waited intently, expecting you to go on further. You brought one of your knees to your chest while the other hung off the couch. "I remember when my sister was admitted to a psych ward, I had this huge inner turmoil, kind of similar to what you telling me now with your mom."

Spencer being taken a back was an understatement. You'd always been so put together, so happy most of the time and you've always been the brightest light in the room. You also never showed any signs of having this going on in your personal life that he almost felt stupid for not seeing it, but you knew how to hide things pretty damn well. It was crazy how someone could be going through the worse and can hide it so well.

"She was severely depressed, she tried to end her life like, four times?" You rested your chin on your knee and laughed softly. "Lost count after a while."

"That's not funny—" Your face fell in realization that it wasn't a topic or time to joke around. He smiled to himself, finding your dark twisted humor somewhat concerning, but also alluring.

"Anyways, the first few times didn't really take a toll on me, and I'm not sure I can say why," You paused. "Maybe I just didn't allow myself to feel because I knew that if I did, I'd fall apart and I couldn't let that happen, I didn't want anyone to see it happened and maybe if i avoided doing os, i could pretend like it never happened but the time she ended up in the hospital was scary, to say the least."

"I had called 911 and she couldn't be alone before the ambulance arrived. My mom was coming home from work so she gave me specific order to not let her out of my sight. When I tried to stop her from leaving the house, she attacked me," You took a deep breath and smiled. "Couldn't even do anything about it,"

"I think the worst part is that I was just trying to help but with the state of mind she was in, she only saw me as a threat. She'd say the most nastiest shit just to get at me," You looked over at Spencer. "Which worked, in case you were wondering."

"She got taken to the hospital and I never spoke to her again," You shrugged, pulling your lips into a straight line. "Things just fell apart after that but, I don't feel guilty about not seeing her... I think."

"I offered her help and comfort, time and time again, after every attempt, I'd always tell her that I was right here if she needed me." You looked at your hands. "I wasn't going to let her destroy me and treat me like that after I had offered to help so many times, theres a certain point where you just can't help anymore. I couldn't help her if she didn't want to be helped. I had to accept it wasn't something I could fix, as much as I wanted to."

Spencer stared in silence. You looked at him and smiled. The two of you just sat in that confusing but comforting silence, staring into each other's eyes and letting this new light you had discovered about the other settle in. There was something unfamiliar yet satisfying pooling around you two. Something about seeing someone's vulnerabilities and listening and deciding to stay around was so sacred to you. Being the comedic relief in peoples lifestyles was specifically a way of avoiding letting anyone know and see your darkest sides, but somehow Spencer gave you enough security to let that go and be fragile with him and you now felt closer to him than ever.

"Look at us," You gestured. "Bonding over deep rooted family trauma's."

He shook his head and let out a laugh that in that specific moment, was music to your ears. You looked down with a smile.

"You know," He said, making eye contact with you again. "I find it very intriguing how most people don't know what's going on in someone else's head or life until they directly tell them, no matter how close they are,"

"Here, people usually tell me their secrets all the time, so I know a lot about others" He shrugged with a smile, diverting his eyes from you once again and right into his lap. "I think it's cause they know I don't have anyone to betray them too."

This saddened you, is that really what he thought? That he had no one to go to? Before you could dwell on it, he shot you a smile from the side. "Except my mother, I tell her pretty much everything."

"I knew you were a Momma's boy," You accused. "I bet you tell her about me all the time."

You had initially been joking but Spencer smiled softly and shook his head. "I do actually,"

Your laugh slowly faded but your smile remained. He looked at you closely, scanning your every movement with nothing but fondness. You felt your pulse in your throat and without missing a single beat you scooted forward on the couch, allowing yourself to be closer to him. He swallowed thickly, before you took his hand into your own.

"I think," You started, looking at his hand in your own as your fingers carressed his knuckles softly. "People go to you because they know they can trust you, and that isn't a bad thing."

"I haven't told anyone about my sister, and I didn't tell you with the security that you wouldn't tell anyone because you don't have anyone to tell," You looked at him. "I told you because I trust and care about you, Spence."

Never before had Spencer thought that he would ever be able to confide in anyone the way he confided in you. Just like you had stated before, you and Spencer brought the best out of each other, even if that meant talking about the worst. After a little while of silence you pulled Spencers arm open.

"Scooch." You fumbled around before letting yourself fall into his side, cuddling into him as much as you could and letting his arm drape around your shoulder. You grabbed his free hand and interwinded it with yours, smiling at how perfect his hand felt in yours. You felt your face flush at the newfound proximity, but it felt too good and too natural that you didn't have it in you to overthink. Spencer could say the same as he felt his body relax into yours. After a while of the two of you basking in each other's touch and comfort, you pulled away momentarily.

"If you ever scare me as much as you scared me today when you jumped in head first to talk to the UnSub, I will make it my personal job to make your life a living hell." You warned, looking at him intensely. He rolled his eyes laughing, and pulled you back into his side.

"Yes ma'am"

#fanfic #fic rec #fiction #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spence #spencer #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #fluff #angst with a happy ending #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #otp prompts #character x reader #criminal minds fluff #angst #fanfiction #fandom #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。PLAN B — ALHAITHAM.

alhaitham has long resigned to the reality that as long as he’s dating you, there can never be an argument he can fully win with logic alone. all his life, his brain has carried him above men in the most impressive of ways, granted him effortless victories that he’s strategized in just a few quick seconds—except no matter how impressive, his brain is no match for your stubbornness.

one time, he even overhears the general mahamatra mumble, it seems like he’s met his match. to this day, the moment haunts him in his sleep sometimes.

but he figures cyno is right (though no one should ever tell him this) because otherwise, alhaitham, the akademiya’s scribe and current acting grand sage, would never be buying flowers and standing before you to apologize for something he didn’t even do.

well, he did—it’s just that he did in a dream, not reality.

“oh, has the cheater come back for my hand again?” you spit, crossing your arms and looking to the side with a hmph.

the universe must be having a field day with this show, he thinks, the show of alhaitham’s life taking complicated turns in places they simply do not have to. woefully, he’s sure kaveh is enjoying this, at least. otherwise the architect wouldn’t be sitting on the opposite couch and watching in pure glee.

“technically, i didn’t cheat,” alhaitham argues, “that was the alhaitham of your conjured imagination. the real alhaitham was peacefully sleeping until he was rudely pushed off of the mattress despite having work in a few hours—”

“i don’t speak to cheaters,” you huff.

alhaitham figures it’s now time to put plan b into action. plan b is as follows: to buy your favorite type of flowers and present them to you, all while dinner from your favorite restaurant sits on the table waiting. as soon as your eyes light up at the sight of the flowers, he’ll be able to skillfully sneak his way beside you on the couch, pull you close with one arm, and before you realize what he’s done, he’ll lead you to the dining table with your usual order waiting for you.

it’s a fool proof plan, he thinks—all plans of his have always had a ninety nine percent success rate, and this is no different. the only reason there’s not a one hundred percent success rate is solely and entirely due to the fact that he cannot plan for unforeseeable circumstances that occur last minute. these circumstances are beyond his control, but the small statistical chance of them occurring puts his mind at ease that in a few short minutes, all will be back to normal.

“these are for you,” he says, holding out the bouquet he bought—which was rather expensive, might he add.

and then, because the universe hates him, that one percent chance of an unforeseeable circumstance presents itself at the most inopportune of times.

“why is this one dead?” you raise a brow, pointing to the flower in the corner he failed to notice.

wonderful, he thinks. kaveh snorts, and alhaitham simply let’s his shoulders sag.

“well,” he starts, “i didn’t notice that one. forgive me—”

“just like you didn’t notice my presence while you cheated on me, huh? yeah, for the akademiya’s scribe, you sure do miss a lot,” you glare daggers at him.

“but i didn’t—”

“it’s your fault i dreamt that in the first place,” you hiss, “who’s plan allowed the people of sumeru to dream again?”

“yes,” kaveh adds from the corner, “do tell, alhaitham. who’s brilliant plan has lead to this situation?”

“certainly not yours,” alhaitham shoots back, crossing his arms as he raises a brow at the insufferable blonde, “if it were up to you to make the plans, we’d have quit before we even start.”

“don’t be rude to kaveh,” you scold, “kaveh would never cheat on me.”

“of course i wouldn’t,” kaveh agrees.

alhaitham pinches himself in hopes this is all his dream and he can wake up from this torturous nightmare.

“kaveh is behind on rent and acutely single. the only place kaveh could cheat on you is in his own dreams,” alhaitham argues, which earns an offended sound of indignation from his roommate.

“if this is your way of apologizing, it sucks,” you sulk, refusing to meet his eyes.

with a heavy sigh, alhaitham sets down the flowers and hesitantly—he does not wish to be shoved to the floor a second time in one day—settles beside you on the couch.

“i would never be unfaithful to you. i love you,” he says simply, but his voice is delicate, serious, like he means it. “i love you because you brighten each day, and make them far more tolerable by your side—even despite your occasional illogical fits of rage. and i will continue to love you even when i am the target of them.”

“seriously?” kaveh gapes in disbelief, “that’s your apology? are you trying to be broken up with—”

“really?” you ask, hopeful.

“of course,” alhaitham nods, and if the corner of his eyes shoot kaveh a smug look…well, only kaveh sees it.

“you’ve never cheated on me?” you narrow your eyes, searching for confirmation in his.

he grabs your hands, nodding. “never,” he assures.

“okay,” you nod, “as long as you’ve learned your lesson, i can look past the mistakes of the alhaitham of my dreams.”

“the alhaitham of your reality is so graciously thankful,” he says sarcastically.

you giggle. he smiles softly. kaveh rolls his eyes and walks to his room.

“well, alhaitham of my reality,” you hum, moving to cup his cheeks and lean in until your lips are just barely touching his, “i love you too. even despite how you infuriate me—including in my dreams.”

“it’s an unfortunate quality all potential versions of alhaitham come with,” he chuckles, and then his lips are pressed to yours firmly.

and you know, from this kiss alone, from the way he holds you like you’re the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter, that you’re the only one he has room for in his heart.

plan b had a few unexpected complications, but as always, alhaitham adds another successful attempt to his list.

this reader is so me-coded pls look away 😭

#i’m still on hiatus don’t throw tomatoes at me i just rly had to get this idea out there #teepods.writings #drabbles. #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

[bakubunny]

you said you wouldn't post more werewolf!bakugo x bunny hybrid!reader, but i said no such thing ;)

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

werewolf!bakugo, who, every rut cycle, has to go "on a camping trip" to the woods. he normally leaves his pet bunny hybrid at home, sparing her the burden of having to deal with him. he doesn't want to scare her more than he already does. doesn't want his cute little bunny to fear for her life. and he knows there are instincts he has, more primal and hungry, that he might not be able to ignore if she comes along.

werewolf!bakugo, who makes one too many mistakes the next time his rut is coming. gets a little too snippy with his cute little bunny. makes her run away because he's yelling and snarling too much. he thinks, "good, i'll apologize when i come back and it's done". but he forgets to check the backseat of his truck. thinks the overwhelming smell of her in the car is just from all the rides she's taken with him there, amplified by his instincts.

werewolf!bakugo, who finally realizes his mistake when it's far too late to turn around. he shoves his poor little bunny in a room of her own in the cabin, tell her not to leave no matter what she hears, tells her to lock the door. it's a good thing he had at least some foresight, because there are latches lining the threshold.

bunny hybrid!reader, who's a good girl. she doesn't move a muscle. not even when she hears her master howling through the night in the adjacent room. not even when she hears the sound of chains — likely used to keep bakugo in place — rattling loud before they're ripped from the wall. not even when she hears the faux gentle knocks on her door followed by heavy pounding and demands to let her master in.

bunny hybrid!reader, who feels her heartrate increase when the door begins to rattle, shake, and splinter. she's shivering in fear (in anticipation?) when it all suddenly goes quiet. she can only hear the pounding of her heart, the rasp of her breath...

...and the window sliding open.

"ya forgot to lock this one, bunny"

a/n: i just came across a popular post where people were complaining abt too much bunny x werewolf stuff in general, so i guess if this somehow reaches that corner of the internet, this is my first real foray into this trope so don’t @ me for being in love with it ok?

eta: original werewolf kats post

neon’s gonna take me out with this istg fam. also we’re going to pretend for a moment that a ripped, 7ft+ werewolf can fit thru a window.

his voice sounded strange, lower and rougher than usual, hungry. you knew better than to ignore him.

“s-s-sorry, k-katsuki. i-i'm sorry,” you sputtered.

you weren’t sure what to expect as the whistle of the wind filtered in with the rumble of katsuki’s chest on his every breath. big, clawed hands pulled his massive frame through the window. you cowered and pulled into yourself as you sat on the bed he’d provided you with.

standing in front of you was a creature you didn’t recognize, one that looked more like a wolf on two legs, a human covered in ash blonde fur. he was at least two feet taller than you with patches of fur that were lighter on his chest and face. his teeth were bared as he snarled, nose scrunched along his muzzle. a growl stirred in his chest as he stared you down with crimson eyes. what was left of the binding on his wrists he’d tried to use to keep himself fell to the floor with a loud clunk. he stalked towards you, glare unwavering.

“p-please don’t be mad,” you said. "please don't h-"

katsuki’s fist flew towards your as he growled angrily, lips curled. he grabbed you by the face. you flinched, eyes shut tight. his grip was firm as one of his claws pressed painfully into your cheek, but you were unharmed.

sailva quickly built up around his bottom lip. a long, dark tongue dipped out to lick them. "don't you dare. i would never hurt ya. you should know that much by now."

your heart raced, a cold sweat on your skin as he stood there and watched you tremble in fear. instincts screamed at you to run, run, run. your stomach twisted into a tight knot of cramps from his scent; you couldn't pin it down but it was strong. but your brain, the last to follow, told you that katsuki was safe. so you froze.

“s-sorry, i’m sorry i didn’t know you - you-” your eyes scanned over his form again, terrifyingly strong and foreign.

“i know. i wasn’t gonna tell ya. but secret’s out now cause ya just had to sneak into the truck, didn’t ya? couldn’t just listen to me the first time like a good little bunny cause ya thought i was mad. what did you plan on doin’ once ya got here and i found out, huh? try n’ snuggle your way outta me bein’ all pissy like you usually do? ‘s a little different when ya don’t know what you’re gettin’ into, baby bun.”

katsuki studied your face as he licked his lips again, drooling by the time he did. “i know ya don’t get it all the time, but i’m tryin’ to keep ya safe. you’re lucky your first heat hasn’t hit yet… but-” he pushed his muzzle close to your neck and sniffed a little. his grip tightened painfully as he took in a deep breath and growled low in his chest.

“that’s about to change, ain’t it?”

@dcsiremc @zazter-den

#sorry for the cliffhanger #i couldn’t get past this without being too flustered #this is cringy and i don’t care #let me have this #i don't like how it turned out but here's more werewolf!kats brainrot #x reader #bakugou katsuki #aged up characters #tw hybrids #tw monsterfucking #mha smut #bnha smut #f!reader #🐺 #bakugo katuski #bakugou x reader #bakubunny #cute moots

[theminecraftbee]

okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--

joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--

anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.

(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)

new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.

so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)

and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.

skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.

"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."

"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"

"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"

mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.

so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.

he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--

it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.

except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.

he looks up and there's a butterfly.

"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.

"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.

"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.

"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.

"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.

it starts to fly away.

"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."

"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.

joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.

a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"

"i'm going insane," joel says.

"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"

"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."

"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."

the butterfly vanishes.

"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."

he steps through the swarm of butterflies.

that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.

this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.

they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--

"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.

"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.

"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.

"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.

joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.

(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)

#hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #smallishsona au #THAT'S RIGHT BABY ITS THE PERSONA AU I WAS WAFFLING ABOUT #because i'm playing p3re right now this is pretty p3 inspired but also expect elements of p4 (my fav) and p5 #i. do not know enough about p1 and p2 to be using all these butterflies but FUCK IT WE BALL. #a bee fic #KIND OF I GUESS I'LL PUT THIS THERE. #anyway the idea is that this au is half a crack au and half DEEPLY SINCERE #because the JOKE is that joel hates every minute of being a persona protagonist #but the OTHER bit is that joel is genuinely an extremely loyal guy who would do VERY WELL as a persona protagonist #you just have to drag him there kicking and screaming #(sort of in a very. p3-esque way)

[elodieunderglass]

Today’s weirdly specific bugbear: newborn babies in fiction being portrayed with colored eyes. This isn’t the case! Newborn babies have undeveloped eye colors that resolve over infancy, exactly like how a glass of muddy water resolves and clarifies into colors, patterns, and layers.

- people who will grow up to have brown eyes will be born with eyes that can appear brown, black, dark grey, or a sort of muddy navy.

- people who will grow up to have light brown, hazel, green, grey or blue eyes are usually born with the same eye colors as above: black, brown, dark grey or muddy navy (which is a weird bluish cloudy look, like brown with a blue overlay.)

- If you’re two brown-eyed parents whose new baby has a sort of cloudy unfocused blue eye color, don’t worry, they’ll almost certainly be brown-eyed - the melanin is still rearranging itself - and somehow that comes across as this initial bluish brown color.

- if the baby is white it’ll almost certainly go with the classic “muddy navy” to start with. Nobody is born with fantasy eyes, but white babies least of all.

- people whose eyes have distinctive patterns, such as central heterochromia, chips, shards, streaks, rings, etc will not display these while the overall melanin pattern is settling.

- very melanistic human eyes are almost greyish; a portraitist or photographer can explain this better than myself. The lovely clear warm browns that dominate the majority of humanity are still a complex pattern of melanin deposition and reflection, not “default maximised melanin.”

- people who will grow up to have “ice blue” eyes (with very little melanin) can actually be born with “ice blue” eyes that do remain; however, ice blue eyes at birth can also change quite a lot! after all, they’re the ones where a simple melanin rearrangement from week to week will change their whole color and appearance. So “Ice blue” and “indeterminate darkest greyish color” i.e. very little melanin deposition/maximum melanin deposition are two colors that humans can be born with, keep for life and be very happy with; but the average eye color of humanity is brown, so I’m not sure if relevant.

- babies aren’t really born with green or hazel eyes, which require exposure to light, development and ongoing melanin readjustment! You’ll probably see these colors resolve between 3-6 months with the general direction settled at 9 months.

Anyway, I’m sure if you poll a thousand people, you’ll find some of them insisting that they’ve definitely known babies born with Distinctive Family Eyes or Their Father’s Eyes or Violet Eyes or Chosen One Eyes, and when they were born they opened them wide for everyone to admire, but while they’re having fun with that, let’s just be real: newborn babies have muddy eyes of indeterminate color, that are normally shut, and their default state is to Imitate Prawn. Newborn humans look like nothing and nobody. And that’s okay.