#someone does that to me and I'm shooting them at least in the leg or stabbing with whatever makeshift spear I've manufactured

[star-born-mars]

Coming Home to You

Introspective!Jason comes home from a rough night of being the Red Hood.

TW: implied sexual content (sort of), mentions of blood, gore, Jason typical violence, and nudity, lots of swearing.

If I need to add anything, please let me know.

Despite what the Bats might think, Jason doesn't usually enjoy killing the people that he does. He doesn't enjoy having to shower blood and gore off before he hits the hay at the end of the night. He doesn't enjoy having to wash his cloths multiple times or in some cases just throw them out when the stains won't come out.

He doesn't get off on the way grown, prison-hardened, Gotham grime-coated men start pissing themselves when the sound of his boots hitting concrete reaches their ears.

He doesn't enjoy the way they beg him for their lives. The way that they get on their knees and plead, like Jason did when he was stuck in that warehouse, far from home, and far from anyone who cared about what happened to him.

It's something Jason thought about on nights like this, where he trudged to the nearest safe house in his rotation, hands soaked up to his elbow in blood and other questionable gore, clothes destined for a burner, and something broken inside him being pressed on by a weight, a weight that Jason could never find the origin of.

He trudged up into the apartment, nudging the door shut with the least bloody body part he had, unstrapping his armor.

He'd just gotten his chest plate off when the Pit started pinging in his head like some malignant radar.

It was something he had gotten better at ignoring the longer it had been in his head, but tonight had pressed just a little too much weight on whatever was broken inside of him.

It's the only reason he had for the gun he whipped out and cocked, aimed right at her head, right in between those pretty brown eyes that Jason had remembered even when he was catatonic in the League.

"Rough night?" she asked, curled up in one of his sweaters with a book in her hand, long bare legs draped over the arm of the chair.

The only reason Jason didn't drop his gun was pure instinct and reflex.

"Fucking shit, doll," Jason snapped as he dropped it to his side again, "I was gonna fucking shoot you."

She hummed, like she didn't really believe him, setting the book on the coffee table and swinging her legs back in front of her so she could stand.

His sweater fell off one shoulder and covered the shorts she was wearing. She looked like something out a movie or a novel, not someone who should have had anything to do with a man like Jason.

"I trust you," she told him, walking over to stand right in front of him, seemingly ignoring the murder scene all over him. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Clothes are one thing, but there's no fucking way you're getting in bed with me like that."

Jason huffed a laugh, which was about as much as he could muster at the moment.

"Jay," she murmured. "Come on, shower, then bed. I have a meeting at ten and I'd like to get some sleep. Preferably with you in bed with me."

Normally, Jason would've made a comment, would've said something flirty or dickish, but he didn't have it in him tonight.

"Okay doll," he agreed. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

"I know," she said. "I want to. I like knowing that I'm the first thing you see when you get home. I also like knowing that you're safe and unharmed."

Jason was pretty sure that he had never done anything to deserve that. He told her as much.

"There are very few categories in life where I believe in things like 'deserving', baby. I chose you, all those years ago, and I still choose you every day. I love you, Jason. It's not about deserving or being worthy, it's about the choices we make. And right now, your choices are getting in the shower or sleeping on the floor."

"You gonna be in the shower with me?" Jason asked.

"I can be. Depending on when you get that cute ass in the shower," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jason, knowing that she really did have a meeting in the morning, knowing that he would sleep better with her in the bed, got his 'cute ass' in the shower.

A/N: Should I be writing the three essays that I have due at the end of this week? Yes. Will I be doing that? No. Why? I have Jason Todd Brain Rot. Again.

#jason my beloved #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #jason todd #reader #idk how to tag this #what even is this #i have finals shit i need to do #fuck my life #dark jason todd #kind of? #maybe?

[neverendingford]

.

#every time a character does the whole “talk softly and reassure the dangerous person” thing while also walking ominously towards them ughh #it drives me absolutely nuts. like. you're trying to talk them down from paranoia while you're threateningly walking towards them? #someone does that to me and I'm shooting them at least in the leg or stabbing with whatever makeshift spear I've manufactured #anyway. criminal minds is getting real annoying with the whole pathologizing of people. #like. guy shows signs of being very good at torturing people and they go “ah yes.. a pure sadist” or whatever the fuck #I get that it's shitty crime drama stuff but still. ugh. #I just. I fucking hate when people take the obviously wrong route when talking to mentally destabilized people. #like. people are shit at talking to suicidal people. are shit at talking down irrational fears. people are shit at talking down paranoia. #I hate how people don't fucking know how to interact with freaks I hate how people don't know how to interact with me #everyone acts on their own level without understanding what it's like in any way #and so everyone just projects their own reality onto you without performing any sort of empathy or exercising any sort of understanding #and I want to scream so fucking loud #you're all living in a cotton candy world and your words disintegrate in my humidity #and it's so fucking lonely #and my mind has been clear this past week. the autistic need for pressure satisfied by this prescription pushing on my brain #and I can feel the cogs turning. the wheels and pins and linked gear trains and drive shafts and traction band motors. #all the parts of my brain churning around and I can't get close because the heat from my motor makes my hood hot to the touch. #I burn your hand as you try and press your palm against my flanks. #only think saddle and tack make contact. strict guidelines and harsh rules to govern me. #when I am free I buck and I shift gait and I drag you under too-low branches #also. compared to Hannibal I can basically listen to criminal minds as a podcast. none of the visuals really contribute anything to the show #like. feels very shallow

[causenessus]

Nightmares. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied at least for chuuya)

song recc: roslyn by bon iver

word count: 1064 words

summary: "how do they take care of you when you have a nightmare?"

sorry if they all seem the same D: i tried to make them all unique and i can see the difference between each character in how they would treat u but i know it's small i'm sorry they're all just such green flags and would be the sweetest <3

dazai

has had so many nightmares himself he knows just how to take care of you

having someone with him at night helped reduce the stress and the number of ones he has <3

you’ll wake up from a nightmare, crying out as you shoot up and he’s there for you from the very start, sitting up as well and shushing you, pulling you to his chest

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating as he drew your head near to his chest. “deep breaths, bella,” he encouraged softly, holding your face so that you were looking directly into his eyes while he gave you a gentle smile. he ran his hands through your hair, smoothing it out until your breathing calmed down

is super patient with you throughout the whole process, will not act sleepy in the slightest so that you don’t feel bad for waking him up or anything else

“ ‘m sorry I woke you,” your voice shook as you tried to take a deep breath, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

he took your hands off your face, using his own to brush away your tears with all the care in the world. “don’t be sorry, I was half awake anyway. take your time, love.”

he’ll offer to listen if you want to talk about it, but he understands if you’re not ready yet

tries to coax you back to sleep soon after because he wants you to rest

but he knows from experience how hard it can be when your mind is racing

the reason it’s helped him so much to sleep with someone though is bc it can take your mind off the dream <3

he’ll position you against his chest and between his legs while he rests against the headboard of the bed. he’ll intertwine his arms with yours, rubbing circles on your wrists while he hums softly to distract you

if you’re feeling sensitive to noise, he’ll place his hands over your ears instead, using his thumbs to rub the sides of your head

he’s there for whatever you need him to do. during your first nightmare with him, he’ll still be figuring out how you react to them. after that, he'll remember exactly what you need and want from him. he wants to make sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what <3

chuuya

wakes up first while you’re still tossing and turning in your dream

he’ll sit up and lean over, waking you as gently as he can. he’ll cup your face as you wake up, brushing anyway any tears with warm hands

“hey, hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. it’s just a bad dream. I’m right here. you’re safe,” he whispered softly as you woke up shaking, your breathing erratic

he kisses away the rest of your tears, touching you so gently and with so much love

asks if you want to talk about it and if you need anything else which he’ll be happy to get for you

afterward, he’ll pull you close to his chest, one hand on your head and the other around your waist, making you feel secure and protected

I think he’d be the type who would keep talking the whole time, distracting you from your thoughts. he’ll talk you through everything he’s doing, he’ll continue to comfort you, and will talk about any other random thing once you both have laid back down

probably tries to make some jokes a little bit before you head back to sleep as well to make you feel better

“sometimes, that stupid dazai shows up in my dreams and I just know it’s not a coincidence. there’s no way that scheming blockhead doesn’t have some mysterious way of communicating and entering people’s dreams. and he does it just to piss me off. ugh, just thinking about it makes me upset,” he ran a hand through his hair, smiling when you let out a small laugh, wiping away the last of your tears with the back of your hand.

he took your hand in his own and kissed it softly, “there’s my pretty girl. see? you’re safe, nothing bad is gonna happen.”

tecchou

does not wake up

you wake up from your nightmare, eyes bleary and heart racing. the only thing you want is to be in his arms so you wake him

once he sees your tears though he’s up immediately, hands on your face as he wipes them away, “oh angel, what’s wrong?”

you place your hand over his own, “just a nightmare…I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do.”

“nothing to be sorry about,” he says softly, a smile on his face as if you had said something funny, “that’s what I’m here for. I’m glad you woke me up.”

he suggests making a warm drink to calm you down if you’re up for it 

in his experiences, he’s found it best to get up and change his surroundings in order to get his mind off a bad dream

if you say yes, he’ll make you something to drink before sitting next to you in the kitchen. he’ll be with you the whole time, telling you that he’s willing to listen if you want to talk about it or anything else if you don’t want to think about it

will have a hand on your thigh or back, rubbing it slowly to comfort you

when you both head back to bed, he’ll hold you close to him, one hand intertwined with yours to let you know he’s there while the other runs through your hair <3

if you don’t want to get up from the bed, that’s okay too, he’ll ask you what you want him to do and makes sure your every need is taken care of <3

kisses your forehead as you both lay back down, then draws patterns across your skin with one hand. the other one flat against your lower back to keep you pressed against him

if you’re still a little scared, he’ll continue to comfort you and reassure you that it’s okay. he’ll wipe away any more tears and stay awake the whole time. he tries to make sure he hears your breathing slow and that you’ve fallen back asleep before he closes his own eyes again to make sure that you get the rest you deserve <3

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu #chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya #tecchou x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader #suehiro tecchou #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons

[yameoto]

TOP TEN BENEFITS. JORDAN, CATE, ANDRE.

synopsis ; you and godolkin's finest go out for some fun, just like any other night. little do you know, is that they have a little more in store for you than just partying.

oh. also, you're luke's girlfriend—not like that's going to stop them.

✗ warnings ; dark!jordan, dark!cate, dark!andre, cnc, dubcon, intox, foursome, cheating, strap-fucking. wc ; 1.9k

DISTANTLY, you can hear voices. you're not sure, really; your head's all dizzy and groggy, and your mouth is so dry you wonder if you’ve been chewing on cement. god.. you really can’t remember anything. how strong were those drinks?

"we sure about this, guys?" comes a voice, echoing on the outskirts of your mind. it's familiar. masculine.. or feminine? you really can't tell—not in this state, at least.

"of course we're sure." someone else interjects, gruffer, this time, clearly masculine. it sounds a lot like.. andre..?

"i mean, look at her," whispers another, voices so low—like they're trying not to wake you. this one's higher, more feminine and— oh that's definitely cate. "how could we not?"

how could they not what? nothing makes sense—not in your foggy, hungover brain at least; one that you're becoming increasingly suspicious is addled by something stronger than shots. but that can't be right—you hadn't blown lines with the others, had you? no, you definitely hadn't. so why does your head hurt so fucking much?

"guys..?" you mumble, trying to sit up on what you distantly realise is a bed, the edges of your vision still blurry. as it adjusts, you're met with the sight of jordan, andre and cate all standing over you, eyes strangely lidded, gleaming. "shit— she's up," jordan hisses, grip on your thigh tightening, and its then that you realise your skirt is gone—the entire stretch of your legs exposed to the three of them.

"fuck," cate sighs, lips drawing into a pout as you feel her hand, bare hand, hover over your other thigh, head jerking up to face the others with a frown on her lips. "should i do it again?"

"no," jordan and andre hiss in unison, exchanging a meaningful look as their fingers twitch, restless. "c'mon, you know you want her awake for this."

"awake for what?" you grumble, head throbbing far too much for you to wrap your head around the conversation. "i'm too hungover for this." you swing your legs off the edge of the bed, reaching for your discarded skirt before two pairs of her hands shoot out to stop you. your vision swims, and with a disconcerting lurch you realise you're so fucked-up you can't even tell whose is who's.

"you won't need that." jordan mutters, breath hot against your cheek as they curl their hand around your wrist, dragging it firmly into their lap. what the fuck?

"sorry about the skirt," cate hums affirmatively, eyes drifting to the poor, ripped thing on the floor and you swear you see the beginnings of a smirk curl her lips "someone got a little excited."

"hey—" andre puts his hands up, not looking too sorry at all. in fact, he looks like he's barely restraining a grin. "don't act like you two weren't drooling—"

"touché." jordan interjects, eyes rolling yet looking entirely too pleased with themselves as they play with your hand in their lap, inching it up their own thigh. “you look better without it, doll.”

"warm her up, jordan." cate's eyes flash, gaze boring into the sight of you, splayed against the pillows, and you resist the urge to whimper.

"don't tell me what to do," jordan grumbles, but there's a grin stretching at their lips and you almost wonder if cate used her powers with the speed in which they comply. their loose grip on your wrist becomes inordinately tight as they deftly undo their belt, dragging their pants and boxers down in one, swift move.

oh, fuck.

"hold on— i—" you splutter, stupidly, glancing between the three of them and jordan's throbbing, leaking cock. it gently bobs into your hand; head pink, glistening with pre-cum and you just want to—wait, what?

you're dating luke. you're dating luke. a spike of panic sends you twisting, surprisingly lucid for a moment as you attempt tugging your wrists away—to no avail, of course. top ten ranking aside; you don't stand a chance against three supes, especially not the three of them.

"hey— shh." jordan catches you, eyes flashing for a moment as they slowly, ever so slowly, guide your hand back to their cock—grunting when your fingers limply wrap around their tip. "fuck, that's it.." they groan, head tilting back. jesus fucking christ.

you don't even realise it when andre drags your panties down your thighs—and your flush only deepens at how fucking wet you are. that has to be the high, right? there's no way—why else would your cunt be dripping into the goddamn sheets, like that? for three of your friends? boyfriend absent from the room, no less. a feeble, embarrassed whine falls from your lips, as three hungry pairs of eyes have no shame in hiding how much they want to fucking devour you.

"look at you, so fucking wet." ande’s voice comes a deep rumble, belt unbuckling with a click as he inches closer. his hands slide over your thighs as he moves over, all the way, and you make another strained noise as his cock hits your belly.

"i think it's cute." cate hums, eyes glimmering as she leans across the bedspread, hands wrapping around the base of andre's eager, bobbing cock and directing it towards your splayed legs. andre’s basically fucking trembling with restless need, cate’s own breaths shallowing, picking up the pace. "luke ever get you this wet?"

your teeth tuck into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut because god, luke.. what the hell are you doing here? it feels like betrayal. it is betrayal—they need to stop—this is wrong—

you whine, making a choking noise as jordan’s grasp on your wrist steels enough to snap bone. you want to say; luke—? yes—he fucking has—i think—but you find you barely have the strength to moan, let alone protest.

“nah, i don’t think so.” jordan smirks, smug, as if they know exactly what’s going through your head as their hand guides yours; forcibly pumping your hand along their length. their frustrated growls of pleasure are enough to make you blush—let alone the feeling of andre’s hands roughly shoving your legs apart, spreading your folds open with two of his fingers. you whine, quivering, glazed pupils meeting his.

"fuck, luke's gonna kill us—" andre grunts once he finally rams into you, audibly groaning as you slam into the blankets with each thrust, inciting the most strangled little cries from your throat. it’s so much—you can’t help but thrash a little, under his touch. cate lets out a displeased hum, though at his words or his roughness you can't tell.

"what luke won't know won't hurt him." jordan counters from the other side of you, lips twisting into a grin as they bite into your shoulder, still moving your hands in thrusts along their length.

they keep shifting—each time you're distracted by cate or andre the feeling of their cock twitching under your hands changes to fingers sinking into sloppy, wet heat. it's ridiculous how hot it makes you, just jacking them off—but it’s not like you have any room to comment with andre thrusting into you like an animal, snarls coming out of his mouth as each movement sends you reeling with white-hot, carnal pleasure.

"move, you brute." cate interrupts, voice cutting through the blinding, purely instinctual pleasure of andre pumping you full like a rutting dog. her eyes glitter with an annoyance that give way to barely-restrained lust, and in your sex-drugs-cate induced haze (you're still not quite sure which it is, yet), you faintly register the plastic in her hand; long, thick, pink and fuck— is that a strap?

"not yet, cate, i'm almost done—" andre cuts himself with a guttural, bestial moan as his cock rams into you, again. you can feel it twitching inside of you; hear his breaths growing shallower as he grips your hips, so tight they might bruise. "oh, fuck—!" he groans loudly as he comes, thick, hot seed filling you up, hips still thrusting as he crams as much of his load into you as he possibly can. it takes a beat before he reluctantly pulls out, chest heaving.

"fuck, you felt so good," he groans, hands clumsily tugging you forward for a kiss before he's promptly pushed off before your lips can touch. "about fucking time." cate grunts, voice sharp, weight of andre on top of you replaced by two long, toned legs swinging on either side of your body, cate's hands running over that fucking strap at her hips. her lips curl into a smirk as your eyes—still glassy from andre's force—blink blearily up at her. you’re still so dazed, so adorable. she leans down to cup your chin. "you're such a pretty little thing," she murmurs, thumb brushing against your bottom lip, gaze darkening as she begins to prise your mouth open, gleam in her eyes giving away to sheer, unadulterated lust.

"open wide." she whispers, and that's the only pre-empt you get before you're choking on silicone, her hips bucking forward as she shoves herself into your mouth. her hands tighten in your hair, jerking you forward so that the entire length forces itself down your throat. tears spring to your eyes. you feel jordon's hands getting rougher as they use you to fuck themselves, teeth digging into your skin to muffle their own whines while your own, keening “mmfs—!” peter out to soft, quiet whimpers.

"you're so good for us," jordan moans, burying your fingers hilt-deep into their cunt, walls pulsing desperately around you. "so fucking good," cate assents with a breathy, pleasured groan of her own, back snapping as if it were her own cock that you’re gagging around. from behind her, andre’s hands are wrapped around himself, moving furiously as he arches over the bed. “you have no idea how long we’ve wanted this.” he hisses, one hand madly jerking himself off to the sight of cate fucking your face like she owns you, the other tangling in your hair. cate audibly moans, bucking into you further with a sharp inhale. "wish i could come in you for real." she mumbles, fingers running along your jaw as you splutter around plastic. she smiles, tilts her head up to look at jordon as they mutter something unintelligible, her thrusts increasing in pace, fucking your throat so raw, so good. "jordan's got something special to give you." she murmurs, voice honey sweet, hand dancing up your cheek.

you can hardly gargle a response through the strap in your mouth—but you don't have to. not when, with a resounding moan, all questions are answered with jordan promptly shooting their load all over your face, thick, hot strings of cum leaking around the edges of the strap and seeping into your mouth. they both groan, jordan slumping into your side with soft, intermittent pants.

"god.." they mutter into the crook of your neck, cate's thrusts slowing as she starts to loosen her grip on your hair; though not stopping, never stopping. "you're ours." jordan grunts, gripping your thigh with sudden, overwhelming intensity while cate continues jerking the strap down your throat, smile tugging at her lips. “ours." she echoes, voice soft—almost gentle if you didn’t know any better. she leans down, hand stretching out; smearing jordan's cum across your cheek in one, long, clean swipe. "fucking ours."

poor, poor luke.

#yam's favs #(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! #૮ smut🔞 #gen v #gen v fanfic #gen v headcanons #gen v smut #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li fanfic #jordan li smut #cate dunlap #cate dunlap x reader #cate dunlap fanfic #cate dunlap smut #andre anderson #andre anderson x reader #andre anderson fanfic #andre anderson smut

[thanotaphobia]

fly bird fly

i'm losing my mind. i'm going crazy. i'm going CRAZYYYYY. i wrote this in like 2 seconds literally oh my god

i will crosspost this to ao3 in a second lmao EDIT: CROSSPOSTED

⋆

They trip through the portal, and Phil’s stomach drops.

Not that it wasn’t already on the fucking floor. Through the floor, even. All the way in fucking hell, where apparently, that goddamn eye beast thinks they belong. Phil trips through the global portal and ends up by the cornucopia, Tubbo shrieking in his ear and a vague ringing in his ears.

His lungs hurt, clogged with thick dust from the crumbling marble ceilings. He can still see Chayanne in his mind’s eye, terrified but hiding it well. Tallulah, openly terrified. All the other eggs, dirty and frightened. He can still hear Foolish’s voice in his ears, shouting, screaming. He can see Fit’s face, and that thing. He can’t believe how tall it was, towering over them. And El Quackity…

“Phil, lasso me,” Tubbo demands.

He shoves his face into Phil’s space. Phil doesn’t jump– just stares at Tubbo and the dust in his hair, the blood running down his face, and then blinks.

“What?” he asks.

“Lasso me, lasso me,” Tubbo says, already pulling out his glider and shoving it onto the floor, struggling to open it. “We can fly, you can fly–”

Phil inhales, the very action sending bolts of pain through him, and his wings extend without so much as a thought. It’s strange, having muscle memory for something you haven’t done in months. His feathers ruffle, and every inch of him aches with the effort.

“I don’t know if I can, Toby,” he says, and Tubbo shakes his head.

“You take the paraglider, I have water, we can– you can fly us out, can’t you? Can’t you? We have the coordinates–”

“My wings are– I can’t–”

“Can you get us there, Phil?” Tubbo asks, shoving a lasso into his hands. The other end is tied around Tubbo’s waist, and Phil looks at him. He sees Tubbo face and the blood and his own sword crushing through Tubbo’s sternum with the thick crack of still-wet bone, and he exhales. Then he nods.

“I don’t know,” he says, “but we can try.”

“Go,” Tubbo says. “I have a water bucket.”

“Okay,” Phil says, and he fumbles for his grappling squack, and fires.

Flying isn’t something that just comes naturally. It’s a skill that has to be learned and honed, a sport like any other. There are specific muscle groups linked to certain maneuvers, stretches specifically created just for avians who fly professionally, all sorts of things in order to make someone’s wings in perfect shape for all types of flying. Long distance, sprints, racing twirls. Phil is known for being able to do them all– or at least, he had been. He can remember the training, the time he’d put into it. The things he’d had to do in order to instruct his body over and over and make it used to the strain.

It has been more than six months, and his muscles scream.

His shoulders ache. His forearms burn with the stress of pulling Tubbo behind him. His legs cramp and his lower back throbs. The pain is immeasurable, uncountable, uncontrollable. Phil can grit his teeth but it doesn’t stop the flashes of white behind his eyes as he spreads his wings and flies, desperate. He can barely see the horizon as he goes, but he does anyway, listening intently for Tubbo and pushing down the instinct to curl into a ball and sob with the pain.

They land, and it’s a brief moment of relief before they’re off again, Phil firing his grappling squack and Tubbo shouting something unintelligible into the wind behind them. He trusts Tubbo to land the water bucket shots every time he lands, but he only has to a couple times before his MDA pings he’s getting close; his wings are numb by now, the shoots of pain frequent and intense, making him shudder and twitch every three seconds or so. Behind him, Tubbo is yelling, screaming into the wind, and Phil would join him if he wasn’t so out of breath. Every inch of him is on fire– and not in the good way, not in the Bolas way, just in the torturous way. 

He keeps seeing Chayanne. Flashes of yellow on the landscape below. Hope, like a flower, blooming in his chest. But every time he sees it, or sees Tallulah, a black fist crushes that hope with a quick blink. 

Finally, he sees water, and the boat. His wings are on the verge of giving out and he barely gets Tubbo out and over the water before he stumbles, cramps, and pulls into a nosedive.

When he slams into the water, it’s cold– it shocks him, and he inhales by accident, coughing as he breaks the surface. His wings are wet and heavy but he can’t bring himself to care, spitting out clumps of water and dust mixed together into a thick, glue-like paste. He feels like a cement mixer, and ahead of him he can see Tubbo crawling out of the water and onto the back of the boat, hair plastered to his forehead. Somehow, he finds the strength to lift his arms and make his wings spasm in a way that pushes him forward, towards the boat. He feels Tubbo’s hands on his arm and then the faint sound of him shouting, and then Fit invades his gaze and two other hands grasp him, dragging him onto the boat. 

The wood is hard beneath him and Phil lies there for a second, still spitting up water and gunk. Fit and Tubbo are talking, and he clues in just as Fit says–

“Phil, we have to go get the others.”

“I can’t,” he says. Neither of them seem to hear him. His wings lie limp and lifeless behind him, waterlogged and exhausted. His entire back is on fire and his feathers are dull, the weight dragging him back as he forces himself to stand. His body feels like one gigantic bruise.

“We have to get others,” Fit says, the elytra on his back ruffling. Phil envies him, but only for a moment.

“I can’t,” Phil insists. He rummages through his inventory, and comes up with a lasso in his hands. “My wings are gone, dude, they’re– I can’t fly, it’s not physically possible. I can’t get anyone–”

It doesn’t matter how much he wants to. It doesn’t matter how much guilt gnaws at him, tearing through his stomach lining with teeth that gnash and chew. 

“I will, then,” Fit says, determination writ on his brow. His face is impenetrable, but Phil sees his own guilt reflected back at him. “Here, the lasso, I’ll–”

And then he’s gone, and Tubbo is left supporting Phil with one hand, and Phil is still reeling. They have one singular moment to breathe. Phil spits onto the deck, and Tubbo follows suit, red blood mixing with water and then disappearing as another wave washes up onto their feet. They stumble forward and Phil shakes Tubbo off, then shakes off some of the water from his wings. Even that little motion sends acres of pain flashing through him, like sparks of electricity up and down his spinal cord. He thinks he might be dying.

He kind of hopes he is.

God, Chayanne.

“Phil,” Tubbo says, looking at his MDA. It’s ringing, and vaguely Phil realizes his is too. Everything is still a little fuzzy in his ears. “Shit. Meteor. We need to go, we need to–”

And then they’re on the move again.

He has no choice. He runs.

#qsmp #q!phil #q!tubbo #q!fit #qsmp purgatory #im Dying i cried im going crazy im #ghdkfhgkdjfhgkdfhg #my writing

[closurechilde]

WILL YOU GIVE HIM THIS?

LOOK AT HIM HES SO SILLY!!!11 I would let him step on me-

ANYWAYS saw this tiktok and this just came to my mind lol

Cw. KITTY WANDERER (he can transform into one), student!reader, he tolerates you -read as has a crush on you-, usage of y/n (1) *cries*, fem!reader

"What? Visitors? Again?" Wanderer sighs frustrated. It was common for Lesser Lord Kusanali to have people over at the Sanctuary of Surasthana, especially students seeking some sort of help for their thesis. "Fine. But I'll ignore them." He says before getting into his cat form.

Nahida sighs but smiles softly. "You could at least try to be nice to some of them. You'll have to work with someone someday." She says, petting him.

A knock on the door of the sanctuary makes Nahida leave him be before she gets to open the door.

"Oh, hi! You must be y/n! Come inside, please." Nahida chirps as you get inside and bow respectfully at her after she closes the door.

"Lesser Lord Kusanali, I'm so grateful for your help!" You smile and Nahida giggles.

"Oh, dear! There's no need for such formalities! Call me Nahida." She says as you two walk to her library. A space that was mostly used by Wanderer when he studied there.

And where a Kitty lied on a chair, curled up.

"Oh, don't worry about him. He'll probably nap all throughout the session." She says as you two get inside and sit down in front of the other.

"Yeah... I wasn't aware that Lesser lord- I mean, you, Miss Nahida, were a cat person." You say.

Wanderer's head shoots up at the sound of your voice. A sound that he found... tolerable. Well, more like sweet and to his liking than tolerable.

"Oh, sorry, mister. I didn't mean to wake you up!" You say softly and Nahida smiles at the interaction.

But then, something that she didn't expect to happens.

Wanderer jumps from his seat and walks to you. He rubs his head and body against your legs before jumping over the couch where you're sitting and curls on your lap.

A bold and unexpected move from the person that it's behind the cat.

"Oh, dear. You must have your way with animals, Don’t you?" She says. "He never does that! Not even with me."

You chuckle and smile as you scratch the Cat's head, earning soft purrs from him. "Well, I feel honored then."

Nahida smiles and offers you something to drink before you two start this lesson for your thesis.

Throughout the talk, Wanderer never moved from your lap and you did your best to not bother the cat because it's a sacrilege to bother a cat that's on your lap. Even more, so if it's an Archon's cat.

After talking and taking notes, you two finish the session. "I hope I helped you with everything, dear." She says as you two walk to the door.

Nahida's cat was reluctant to let you go, so you decided to take him in your arms until it was your time to go. "You did, Miss Nahida! Thank you so much for having me." You thank her and leave her cat on the floor.

You rummage through your backpack and take a little bag with handmade candy you did for Wanderer. "He won't be happy about this, but you were a very sweet boy! I hope to see you more." You say, giving him one of the little candies before getting up and giving the bag to Nahida. "I know that Wanderer spends lots of time with you Miss Nahida. Can I ask you to give him this as a thanks for helping me with my thesis? You can take if you wish to, too."

"Sure, dear. Oh, these are his favorites even if he isn't that much of a candy guy. I'll give them to him, then." She says.

You thank her and bow again before getting out. Nahida smiles and closes the door before she hears a *puff*. "So, mister 'I will ignore them'. Care to explain?"

"Ugh, shut up." He grumbles. "And give me that." He says before taking the candy bag.

Nahida laughs. "She seems to be a sweet girl. You should invite her to study together."

He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. "I'll go to the library to work on my thesis."

Nahida nods in response. "I'll make you some tea."

He nods and gets in where he was a few moments ago. The scent of your perfume still lingers in the air and it makes him smile for a bit before he hears that Nahida's coming.

He tries to play it cool as he gets his notes and his pencils and everything as she brings him a cup of tea.

But she's the Goddess of knowledge. There's only little she doesn't know.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n

[mykelneedssleep]

My COD roman empire without fail is watches. I feel like I'm the only person who cares so much about everyone's watches but I don't care, I spend too much time thinking about it. It's one of those character design things that I love. Let me explain

Gaz is the only character we see that wears his watch with the face on the inside of his left wrist. The watch on the left means that he is right-handed. Wearing a watch on the inside of the wrist is relatively common for military personnel because it keeps the watch face from hitting the sun so there's no glint, and it allows you to see the time while holding a gun so it's not shocking that he chooses to wear his like this. Gaz is the only character we see do this though, which is particularly interesting in a team such as the 141 who often deals with counterterrorism and places themselves in low-profile situations. In the game we also never see Gaz covering the position of a sniper, he's always the one in the field. Out of the four of them it would make the most sense for Gaz to be someone who wears his watch on the outside since he is able to move his hands relatively freely in the field so he could easily turn his wrist if he wanted the time, but he doesn't. He makes the choice to wear his watch on the inside.

Price and Soap both wear theirs on the outside of their left wrists. Again, right-handed. Soap follows the same logic as my argument about why Gaz could wear his watch on the outside but he also has the added bonus of doing demolitions work. When working on explosives it's more likely that Soap would be looking at the back of his hands than the palms which would place his watch face in his view. Out of everyone, Soap's watch placement actually makes the most sense.

Again, following the same logic as Gaz but opposite this time because Price is more often than not providing cover as a sniper, which would make the most sense for him to wear his watch on the inside, but, again, he doesn't. Also as the team's captain of all people, he should know the time at all times so that he is able to coordinate things with his team but he has to flip his wrist (taking his hand off his gun) to know the time.

Ghost, I think is the most interesting because he actually wears his watch on the outside of his right wrist. Based on just the position of it I would say that he's left-handed but nothing else about him presents that way. His pistol is holstered on his right leg and when we see him holding one he carries it in his right hand. When he has a larger gun he also holds it right-handed (that is right hand on the trigger) he doesn't present as someone who is left-handed. It's possible that he is ambidextrous and simply shoots as a right-handed person would but we don't get any more evidence of that. Ghost's watch placement actually makes the least sense when you consider that he's usually a sniper, because while Price has to rotate his wrist to see the time there's no way that Ghost can tell time as a sniper because there's no way he's taking his right hand off the trigger to turn his wrist to tell the time. So either he's switching his shooting hand which doesn't make any sense or he simply cannot tell time which also doesn't make sense. There is possibly a backstory reason for why he wears his watch like that but if there is I don't know it and I would really like to because it genuinely bothers me so much.

Farah doesn't wear a watch at all which you would think- similar to Price- as a leader, it would be important for her to know the time but it's not a case of inconvenience she literally has no way of telling the time unless she has some sort of pocket watch or something on her person. She would have to ask someone else, likely Alex (who does wear a watch, outside of the left wrist in case you're wondering because of course I had to check) for the time if she wanted to know.

As far as I am aware we don't see Laswell wearing a watch. It could be that she doesn't wear one or just that we don't see it because almost every time we see her we either don't see her wrist because of the camera shot or she's wearing something that covers her wrist. I can't imagine that someone like Laswell wouldn't know the time at any given moment of the day so I'm just going to assume that she has one and we can't see it. I'm also going to assume that she would wear it on the outside of her left wrist as I believe that she's right handed based on the way we see her pick things up and how she carries her gun. I'm saying likely the outside as well because we often see Laswell on a computer or working on some paperwork which would place the back of her hand upward (same argument I made with Soap) so it would make more sense for her watch to face outside. Laswell is also the most civilian of all of them so she is more likely to follow civilian customs like wearing your watch on the outside.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk please ask me to talk about it more because I will

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #cod mw #cod mwii #cod mwiii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #farah karim #alex keller #kate laswell

[thelampisaflashlight]

Shutterbug: Point and Shoot

[Dew and Aeon go to the lake to take pictures of the sunrise. Angst comes and goes in a blink. Baphomet persists.] Below the cut.

"Why do we have to get up so early for this?" Aeon whines, dragging his feet through the tall grass, slumped forward dramatically with an almost comical pout on his face as he follows Dew towards the lake.

"If you want to photograph the sunrise, you need to get up before the sun rises." the older man says, unbothered by the younger's antics, "Simple as that."

Aeon gives a little huff before a yawn slips from his lips, causing Dew to yawn as well, "It's so early though... There's a whole hour before the sun rises, and it only takes ten minutes to walk here from the dorms!"

Dew rolls his eyes and sets down the large backpack slung over his shoulder, gesturing for Aeon to do the same.

"If I let you sleep in any longer, you wouldn't be awake enough to help me set up, let alone take the pictures. You said you wanted to learn how to use an actual camera, and here we are."

The quintessence ghoul hums, "Here we are..."

With a sigh, Aeon casts his gaze over the lake, still lit by the stars that are only now starting to fade from view.

The ground is cool under his feet, and the toes of his sneakers are lightly soaked by the morning dew.

He inhales slow and deep and feels himself slowly beginning to wake.

"At least it's nice out here..." he says, turning towards Dew, who is rummaging through his bag, taking out a tripod and another, compact bag from within that looks worn in a well loved kind of way, "So... I never got to ask, since the others recommended that I go to you to learn about this stuff, but, uh, how long have you been into photography?"

"Aw, geez, it's been a long time..." Dew picks up a flat rock from the dirt, sliding it under one of the legs of the tripod, making it more level, "Couple decades now, I guess?"

"A couple... A couple what?? A couple decades??" Aeon balks, "But you've only been on the surface since..."

He counts on his fingers, but gets stuck.

"H-How is that even possible??"

Dew stands up, bracing against his knees as he does so, "Huh, guess that story slipped through the cracks... I mean, yeah, I..."

He places a hand on his chest.

"I don't mean me." he says, "I mean this guy."

He sweeps his hand up to his face and then downwards.

"My vessel."

Aeon blinks.

"Your vessel...?"

"Ough... they really don't tell you new summons anything..." Dew stretches and then grabs one of the folding chairs he made Aeon carry with them, "Pop a squat, Sparkles, we have some time to kill anyway."

Aeon tilts his head sideways, but does as he's told. Once he's settled, Dew sits down, looking out over the horizon.

"It's all kind of complicated, but the long and short of it is; My body, this face you're looking at, this isn't a glamour. It's not an approximation of what I would look like if I were human... it is human."

"I... Okay." Aeon looks at Dew sideways, "So... You're human then?"

"Was." Dew says, stretching his legs out, "I was, but I also wasn't. Sometimes... Sometimes, when the church needs a ghoul... No, that's... Let's just go with that, yeah?"

Aeon nods.

"The best way I can put it, is that this body belonged to someone else, and then another person -a demon- laid claim to it, but instead of forcing the other soul out... they kind of, I dunno, melded together?" Dew emphasizes his point by making a squishing motion with his hands, "So I'm, like, some kind of weird soul baby of those two people."

"Hehe... Soul baby..."

"Shut up, I said it was complicated."

"Sorry."

"...You are forgiven, for now." Dew snorts, "Anyway."

Dew taps the side of his head.

"Basically means I have memories from two different lives mushed together in the old brain box, and to get to the point already, the first guy was a photographer."

"Ohhh... So you retained all of his memories of how to do this then?" Aeon asks, looking at the bags again, "That's pretty-"

Aeon pauses, brow furrowing.

"...What happened?"

Dew raises a brow, turning his head towards him, "Mn?"

"What happened to the photographer guy? Like, if you're..." he bites the inside of his cheek, "Am I not supposed to ask-"

"I never said you couldn't, and do I look bothered?" Dew questions, his posture too casual, too relaxed for him to be annoyed, "Do you really wanna know?"

Another pause.

"...Yes, please."

Dew closes his eyes for a moment and sits up slightly.

"Here, I'll show you how to set up the camera first so we don't forget why we're out here..."

And they do.

Dew makes Aeon do most of the set-up and adjustments to the equipment himself, "So you can get a feel for it."

When all is said and done, Dew lets him tweak camera's settings a bit more before motioning for him to sit back down.

"I've been into photography since I was a kid, couldn't tell you how old I was when I first held a camera, but I do know what my first clear picture was of." he says, leaning back in his chair, "We had this little terrier, Wilma, when I was little, and the thing couldn't sit still for the life of her, but I somehow managed to get her to stay put for a photo... Probably bribed her with an entire bag of biscuits, but I was really proud of how it came out."

"I don't really remember many of my early, early memories, especially not the ones from this guy, but I remember that." he utters softly, a hint of warmth blossoming on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, subtle embarrassment, "Being proud..."

"I can also remember being fucking miserable."

A cool breeze rolls across the grass, and Aeon uses it to hide the shiver that runs up his spine at Dew's words.

"...Before I go any further, do you still want to hear about this?"

Aeon swallows, then thinks.

"Do you really want to talk about it?" he counters, and Dew gives a little puff through his nose, "Really, though."

He shrugs.

"It was a long time ago, Sparkles."

"Doesn't mean it can't still hurt." Aeon whispers a bit too knowingly for Dew's liking, if the little noise in the back of his throat is any indication of that.

"...I died." he says after a moment of silence, "I died, Aeon."

"You... You died?"

"I don't know the full details, and I don't want to know, but yeah." he nods, "Yeah."

Aeon watches the cattails wave in the wind, processing what his packmate just said.

"I guess I got lost out in the woods nearby, and some siblings found me and brought my body back here." Dew continues, "There's a lot of... little details that flicker around in my head from time to time, fragments of memories, or maybe dreams I'm misremembering, but I mostly just remember, ya know, stuff like this."

He points at the camera.

"I didn't forget how to do things like read or write, and I knew things I liked and didn't like, but I forgot most of what made me this guy."

"Did he have a name?" Aeon asks, taking in Dew's features anew, from the sharpness of his nose, to the gentleness of his brow.

"Probably." Dew laughs, "Actually, yes, but that's also something I've decided I don't want to know. The files are all there, if I decide to deep dive into my past, but I already promised myself I wouldn't do that."

"...But you died."

"You're wondering how I'm here now, right?"

Aeon nods.

"Well, there was this goat-"

.

.

.

"Well, hello, Moonlight, how'd your little photography lesson with Dew go?" Swiss asks, legs kicked up over the armrest the couch in the common room as he half watches the morning news, eyeing a harrowed looking Aeon.

The ghoul stares blankly at the wall for a solid minute before he replies.

"...Have you hear the Bapho-tits story before or is Dew full-on fucking with me?"

Swiss almost pulls a muscle from the involuntary sit-up he does from wheezing too hard.

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic

[youmaycallmeyourhighness]

WIP Wednesday - Mad Scientist Jinx

Jinx and Ekko stand back to back, pressed tight in the tiny container as it steadily fills up with water. No amount of stabbing or prying or kicking will get them out. Any bomb Jinx sets off will badly injure them at the very least. They're gonna die in here.

"Y'know I was alone too?" Ekko growls as he shifts, water lapping at their knees.

"What?" Jinx asks, her voice reverberating in their tiny coffin.

"I lost everyone. Same as you. I was alone, did you ever think about that, that I was just as scared and alone as you were?"

"Yeah, well, you've got a bunch of friends now so I don't know what you're crying about." Jinx scoffs.

"Well maybe I wanted my best friend." Ekko shoots back. "Maybe Vi coming back meant just as much to me, maybe I wanted my family back too."

Jinx is silent and lets Ekko's voice bounce around, it's tinny, almost like the voices in her head. He slogs his legs through the water, still trying to escape. Jinx sits still, watching detachedly as the water slowly creeps higher. It's over, she's going to die, really and truly. This isn't like playing fast and loose with her tonic, or having shaves with her bombs. She's going to drown. Hiding just seems pointless.

"I just…wanted to keep her around before she realized I wasn't her sister anymore."

Ekko pushes against her, still trying to escape. "What?"

"Vi's sister is weak and helpless and innocent." Jinx rests the back of her head on Ekko's shoulder. "Do I look innocent to you?"

Ekko scoffs.

"I know you don't wanna hear this, but I missed you." Jinx croaks.

Ekko scoffs again but Jinx presses on.

"I'm serious, I really did. I thought you were dead, and by the time I realized you weren't, I was so…different." Jinx's voice cracks. "I couldn't handle it, that everyone was gone and it was my fault. So I had to become someone else, someone who could take it, someone who could do it again on purpose." Jinx blinks back tears.

"What are talking about?" Ekko asks, sounding confused and frustrated and maybe even scared.

Jinx never told him what happened, icy fear keeping it down even though he'd already wanted nothing to do with her. It was one thing for her to chase him off, pretending that she'd actually shoot him. It was something else entirely to make the same mistake twice and have him reject her.

"I didn't want you to leave me too." She whispers.

"You didn't even give me a chance." Ekko's voice wobbles.

The water is up to their necks now, there's only so long they can hold their breath.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"I'm sorry too."

The water's at their chins, they're both struggling to keep their head above water, pretending they don't hear the other sobbing.

"Hey Ekko?" Jinx lets her tears fall freely. "If we get out of this, do you wanna play paintball with me?"

Ekko's hand finds hers and he interlocks their fingers. "Yeah," He sniffs. "I'll win this time."

They both laugh. The water goes over their heads. Ekko takes a big breath, Jinx does not.

#don't come at me this is a draft #anyway Singed has a different relationship with Jinx than Silco does as he had a child before #I can't say he was a good dad but i do think it changed how Jinx sees herself and the incident #neither Silco nor Singed made Jinx she remade herself so she could stay alive #this is the turning point in their relationship btw i hope you guys like ut for real this has been a struggle #arcane #wip Wednesday #mad Scientist Jinx #timebomb #ekko #jinx #my wips #my writing

[strangerhottotties]

hi i have an eddie request but ill understand if you arent comfortable writing it, its a fluff piece where the reader gets their period in the middle of school at the hellfire lunch tabel and the whole time they seem uncomfortable and everyone is asking if they feel okay but they insist they are fine, then when its time to go to class everyone gets up and leaves besides eddie who notices the reader stays seated and then he tries to get her to tell him whats wrong

if you dont want to thats totally okay just respond so i dont spam you with the same request thinking you havent seen it <333

Haha, I get used to get pissed on for a living. A little fictitious period blood doesn't bother me. On that note, I made this a little gross cause why not soooo sorry? Thank you for the adorable ask! I had fun with this!

Also I apologize in advance I was fighting my trazadone writing this so its just a little unedited drabble that might not make sense to me in the morning. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

Warnings: Fluff, periods, period blood, Eddie is first and foremost a gentleman.

The cafeteria was too loud, laughter and chatter and bright lights making your head pound. You sink deeper into your sweatshirt, it already zipped up as high as it can go as the group of Hellfire nerds you'd long acquainted yourself with clamour around you. The room felt colder to you than normal - your body curling in to preserve as much of your body heat as you could.

Normally, your involved heavily in the rowdy antics of your geek squad. Normally, you'd have picked your way through most of your mediocre lunch tray. Especially, on pizza day. But the orange grease stains the half melted cheese and your napkin. You've barely taken more than two bites in the last fifteen minutes. The imagery making your stomach curdle just a bit isn't normal for you. You know that.

Your name being called by one of the freshman has you glancing up into Dustin's frowning face. "You feeling okay? You've barely touched your lunch."

You're heart flutters nervously when the table is silenced and all of them turn towards you. Your friends had the worst timing.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just not real hungry today. Do you guys want it?" You urge, pushing your tray further into the middle of the table.

"Are you sure?" Gareth offers up.

Your cheeks burn with hot embarrassment because you can see Eddie's intense gaze settled on you from the head of the table. The Hellfire King's eyes steeling you in place as you pretend it's not.

"Yeah, you should eat more than that, at least," Mike starts. "Unless your sick."

"Just kind of queezy," your admission comes quietly. "This is too greasy. I really don't want to make it worse." Your answer seems to appease most of them in the way you hope it does. The slice goes to Dustin. The milk to Gareth. And the rest is followed quickly by the rest of them. Hungry teenage boys never turned down offered food.

It's several minutes later when a gooey gush occurs that you realize exactly why you're feeling this way.

"What's with that face?" It's Eddie who commands your attention, obviously noticing the paling of your completion or the widening of your eyes.

"Nothing." You cover quickly. He lifts his brows in questioning. You pray he reads the expression you shoot back as "I'm fine, really!" And not constipated. He gives you a single nod as you cross your legs.

You cursed yourself for wearing a skirt today. The only barrier between you and the seat being your underwear. You'd just wait for everyone to leave before checking to see if you bled through the fabric and onto the rouch textured chair.

You plead the bell will ring faster, watching the clock nervously as it ticks closer to lunch being over.

When it finally does, you wave your friends off as they shuffle off. You're too busy watching people float past to notice someone pulling up the chair next to you. You jump when you turn and find Eddie's face inches from yours.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" You squeak at him.

"Seriously, what's wrong? Are you avoiding someone? Is Tommy bothering you again?"

"No," you promise as the last of the students exit the cafeteria. Your voice sounds nearly too loud in the echoing room.

"You can tell me, you know." You wanna melt against him.

"It's just embarrassing is all," you tell him, hoping to deter him from further questioning. Really you just wanted your crush to stop coincidentally inquiring about you leaking blood beneath you.

"Nothing is embarrassing to me. I promise. Are you sick? Do you need me to drive you home?" He insists. It makes you want to pull you hair out - you settle for running your hand through it in frustration.

"No," you repeat. "It's nothing. Just go to cl-" you stop talking when his hand lands on your knee.

"Don't lie. You're a bad liar."

You bite your lip, tears welling against your will as you break. In a tiny voice, you finally mutter out, "Eddie, I think I just blend through everything..."

To your surprise, his face summons sympathy rather than disgust. "Oh, okay," he takes a deep breath as he glances around the room at the lunch ladies clearing the tables. "Do you have the stuff you need? The offer still stands to drive you home.

"I'll get blood on your seat," you whimper. Eddie snorts at that.

"Wouldn't be the first time. Come on. Let's go." He stands, holding a hand out to you. Your eyes widen for a moment.

"Hold on," you promise and reluctantly shed your sweatshirt to tie around your waist until you stand. You want to cry when you stand and spot the red stain on your chair. "Dammit!" You breath and go reaching for your discarded napkins from earlier. When you turn back to wipe it up, however, your eyes widen with horror.

Eddie is leaned over your chair, casually using his hanky to wipe away the blood before you can. He straightens when he's finished, casually tucking it in his back pocket.

"Ready?" He hums, like he'd just plucked a hair away, instead of the shedding lining of your uterus.

You sputter at him. "That... you didn't have to -"

He grasps your arms, pulling you close with that sweet expression all over again. "It'll wash out." Then he frowns and rubs his hands over your arms. "You cold?" He hums, as he finds your goosebumps.

"A... a little?" You offer, still too stunned. In a little shimmy that brings him into your space even more than before, he's shrugging out of both his jacket and his 'Dio' vest together. He doesn't even stop there as he helps you into it instead. "Eddie," you murmur without further words.

His smile down at you is stunning, warm and proud. "Don't worry about it," he encourages. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to see you in it." You nearly faint at the words as he slings and arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side. You can't imagine what the two of you look like. Not until he waltzes you through the hallways, slowly approaching the up coming crowds of other students. You flush when Mike and Dustin cheer at the sight.

"Eddie," you chirp, leaning closer to whisper this to him, "It's gonna start a rumor about us." It earns you a grin.

"I can think of worse rumors, can't you?"

#eddie munson #eddie munson request #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fics #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #tw periods #fluff #comfort fic

[copperbadge]

I'm sure I'm not being original, but surely there is an au where the King and Queen Emeritus court Jes Demos together? Given that the Queen had, uh, gal pals in their shared bed.

I think you're the first to suggest it actually!

(Honestly if I knew how much I'd expand this universe I would possibly not have had Miranda die, but that would have changed the series a lot and it's a trouser leg of time we won't go down.)

I can definitely see an AU where Miranda never got sick, and Michaelis and Miranda retired similar to the time frame in the books but found themselves still a little at loose ends the way Michaelis did in canon. I think Miranda, who could be imperious at times, might have been rather offended that Jes didn't do them the courtesy of notifying the palace they were doing the podcast about the country; she might very well have marched down to the recording studio to give that Deimos a piece of her mind not because she didn't like the podcast but because she felt it would have been polite to inform them.

I think a fight between her and Jes would have been fucking epic ("It's common courtesy!" "Are you attempting to curtail the freedom of the press?" "Are you delusional??" etc) and also extremely hot. And then Miranda would vent to Michaelis, who as a diplomat would attempt to smooth things over by inviting Jes and Lachlan to dinner on neutral ground and negotiating the Pax Podcastrum.

After which Lachlan would undoubtedly be like "it's a good thing you're bi because they both want a turn" which Jes scoffs at but also finds intriguing, and we go from there. It does add some twists and turns since Miranda would probably be the one more overtly interested, and Michaelis might just be like "If you like them, that's enough for me," but take a while to warm up to Jes.

In the canon, and this will pop up at some point, Miranda and Michaelis didn't have an open marriage (not that I thought you implied that, just clarifying generally) -- they had one close, intimate friend who wasn't around very much but basically was their booty call when she visited. I plan to have her show up eventually and be delighted by Jes and the positive change they've made in Michaelis. In this possible AU scenario I can see Michaelis and Miranda discussing the idea of perhaps a more permanent and stable arrangement with Jes. It'd be an interesting story to write, I think. The Emeriti Take A Young Lover. :D (I mean Jes is younger than they are...)

Fascinating to consider what they might tell Gregory and Noah. Not to mention whether the press would eventually get wind of it. I remember listening to one of my regular podcasts and one of the hosts speaking openly, but somewhat suddenly, about her polyamory, and my eyebrows shooting up. Not in judgement, I have no problem with polyamory and a lot of poly friends, it was just unexpected to hear someone being that upfront about it in a public forum that wasn't explicitly about the topic. I suspect the general reaction of the populace would be a) what and b) yeah if I could take any two of those people to bed I would too.

Be especially funny if at first everyone thinks it's an affair but can't figure out which one of them is cheating. Miranda would enjoy herself hugely. "We can finally have a sex scandal after forty years of marriage, my love. Let me at least bask in it for a week or two."

#shivadhverse

[daydreaming-worlds]

I am, in fact, in love with you

opla koby x fem reader

Warnings: none, a lil bit of angst and swearing but nothing much really

Word count: 1.683

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

<<but I want to join you!>>

<<get back to cleaning, you're a girl you could never stand our workouts!>>

I hear them laugh, their stupid voices echoing in my brain for a moment, then I just scroll them off my shoulders and get back to work, leaving that argument behind me.

I'm used to it, even though Garp choose me like every single one of them I never seem to be enough, just because of what I have between my legs; I can clean for hours under the burning sun but I can also fight, use a gun, cook, shoot with a cannon... I could do every single one of these things and more, if only someone believed in me and gave me the opportunity to do them.

<<y/n!>> I hear a squeaky voice behind me, I turn around to see who was calling me and I could recognize those pink, shiny hair from a mile away. <<You did such a great job... standing with your chin high even when they were trying to push you down, I would pay gold to have at least half of your courage...>>

There he is, my ray of sunshine, the only man on this ship that I don't want to punch in the face. Koby is my only friend, the only one that listens to me when I have something to say, he has been by my side since the beginning of our journey as cadets in the Marine.

<< Thanks Koby... I'm glad that someone still sees me as their peer>>

I smile to him and he scratches the back of his neck, a thing he does often when someone compliments him or is sweet to him in general, it's kind of sad that he is not used to it, due to his past in the Alvida Crew where he was nothing but a slave, but I'm glad that he is following his dream of becoming a marine now, he really is very determinate and intelligent and I think Garp saw that in him too.

We start to unravel the knots on the ropes that are used to manage the sails, and usually he start to do some info dumping about new things that he learned thanks to the books that Garp let him borrow from his personal library, but today he seems strangely quiet.

<<Koby... are you okay? You still haven't mentioned any new island that you would like to visit, and since I've met you it never happened, you always have something new to talk about>>. My tone is playful but with a pinch of worry.

He snaps his head up and awkwardly laughs; <<Oh no it's nothing, I'm just, pft, overthinking some... stuff yeah, but I'm totally fine! Actually I think Hermeppo needed my help with, you know, stuff!>>

He quickly gets up without leaving me the time to say anything, he was speaking so fast that I was confused on how we went from talking about him overthink "stuff" to Hermeppo needing his help with... "stuff".

<<I'll see you at dinner!>> <<but wait- >> I try to get up but he was already walking at speeding pace to the other head of the ship. I sigh, he's never been so strange, well, yes, he can get nervous pretty easily but it looked like he was hiding something from me and I don't see why he should do that.

At dinner my worries only increased, he decided to sit with Hermeppo and other elder marines, I sit alone at the table where we usually gather together and for a fraction of second he takes a quick, guilty, look at me, before going back to his conversation. He is definetly going to explain to me what the hell is happening, wether he likes it or not.

After the most boring dinner I've ever had on this ship I see him heading to his room, I quickly reach him and grab him by his left arm so that he could turn around and face me, he looks at me like a beaten dog.

<<Why are you ignoring me? You've been acting strage since this afternoon>>

<<I'm not ignoring you! And I'm not acting strange!>> He says, in a defensive tone.

<<Oh yes sure, then why didn't you sit with me at dinner? And you didn't even have the decency to tell me "look y/n I'm trying to make new friends, I'll go sit on a different table" so that I wouldn't find myself left out like an idiot! That hurted Koby...>>

I look at him, my eyes were almost starting to fill with tears, I felt betrayed by my only friend and I wasn't ready to be stabbed in the back like this by someone I thought different from the others.

Silence fills the space between us, the only sounds are the waves of the calm sea under us, the plates being cleaned in the kitchen and the chatting of some men smocking on the deck; Koby finally looks at me, the moon light glims into his eyes, a hurt expression painting his face.

<<y/n I'm sorry if I hurted you, I mean it, you're really dear to me and... that's part of the reason for my beaviour...>>

I cross my arms <<c'mon, speak, I'm listening>>

He sighs: <<when I started this journey I was on my own, Luffy, my only friend, wasn't by my side anymore and I knew that if I wanted to see him again I should've work hard>>

Luffy, he mentioned that name often, he told me that he was the pirate that saved him from Alvida and gave him the courage to become a marine.

<<but then I met you! A brilliant and strong young woman that shared my same dream, someone that I looked up to, I wanted to face life like you do and plus you were interested in my discovers so I felt like I could talk about everything with you...>>

At those praises I slighly blush, yeah sometimes he told me how he wanted my determination and everything but I never thought that he saw me as an actual role model.

<< In the last two weeks those feelings increased in me and I wanted to spend every free minute with you, and one day Hermeppo told me something that made my brain spin in confusion...>>

I look at him with a puzzeld expression and I raise an eyebrow as a gesture to tell him to go on.

<<he told me that it looked like I was in love with you... and from that moment I couldn't stop thinking about it, everything about you makes my heart beat as fast as a fired bullet: the way you laugh at my dumb jokes, the way your hair flow when the wind hits your face, the way you smile satisfied as you finish your workout, every little detail that I started noticing from that day made me fall in love with you even more!>>

I was petrified, I never thought about Koby as more than a friend, apart from when we watch the stars together and I can't help but stare at him, or when we're working together on the deck and the sun kiss his pale skin, or when he just spoke with Garp about something and he needs to tell me immediatly...

... ok no the list of times I felt butterflies in my stomach for him was actually pretty long.

I stare at him in embarassing silence

<<I knew this was dumb... God I sounded so stupid that's why I was strange today and then I ignored you at dinner, I wanted to confess to you but couldn't find the courage... typical of me...>>

<<Koby can you just shut up for one second?>>

I say laughing a bit and also taking him by surprise.

<< If you wouldn't always overthink everything you would have noticed that I feel the same for you, you're not just my only friend here but also the only one I can trust and... the only one that makes my life a little less shitty, so yeah, we could say that I like you too, a lot actually>>

I try to laugh the embarassment off and Koby looks at me with the brightest smile I've ever seen, but now it's his turn of surprising me: he throws himself at me and embrace me in a tight hug, his face is buried in the crook of my neck and I can feel his hair tickling me. He gently grabs my face and the feeling of his soft palms makes my cheeks go as red as cherries.

<<well you know this is technically the moment where I ask you to kiss me under the night sky, pretty romantic if you ask me, but obviously only if you want to, there's no rush- >>

I cut him off with a sweet laugh and he joins me

<<I should probably just shut up and kiss you right?>>

<<yeah, you should>>

With a warm smile, he places his lips against mine and in that moment my brain completly shuts off, I place my arms around his neck, my heart is racing and I can feel his too, coordinated with mine, both creating a perfect harmony for our lips to dance to; he is gentle and romantic and I can feel his shy hands moving from my cheeks to my hips, his touch is delicate, like he is almost scared of breaking me.

At one point we both break the kiss to get some air, we look at eachother with heart shaped eyes, just like corny sweethearts. He is the first to break the silence.

<<I hate to say it but I guess Hermeppo was right>>

<<about what?>>

He shakes his head and innocently smirks.

<<I am, in fact, in love with you>>

I simply smile at that sentence, wondering how I got so lucky to find such a pure soul to show me what love really felt like, because yes, I was, in fact, in love with him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE END!!!

[authors note]

Thank you so much for reading this y'all! Hope you liked it as much as I do, Koby is my baby fr he deserves all the love in this world :')

I love writing for the One Piece and One Piece Live Action fandom so excpect many works with Oda's characters.

Sorry for any grammatical errors and rember to stay safe on the internet ;)

xoxo, Ali <3

[Tags]

#one piece #one piece x reader #one shot #one piece fanfiction #koby one piece #koby #op koby #coby one piece #koby x reader #koby opla #opla x reader #opla fanfiction #fluff #one piece fluff #opla fluff

[stevenssticks]

yesss, please write something about early Metallica Dave with a virgin reader <3 love your blog sooo much, you're so talented, seriously!!!

you asked and you shall receive my dear!!!!!!! okay early met dave was an animal and honestly didn't know wtaf he was doing but that doesnt mean he didn't FUCK. type of man to ruin you for everyone else even if he had absolutely no finesse or grace.

he'd track you down at a party after his show. you'd been dragged out by your friends, obviously more quiet and reserved than them and he just wants to break you a little. get you to loosen up, and oh god he does.

by the time youre back ay his house hes got you on his couch, not even the bed, absolutely devouring your mouth like he's starved for it. this, you've done before. this you know. but when dave sneaks a hand up your skirt and into your panties? that is new. yeah. you nearly shoot off the couch when dave starts rubbing your clit in tight circles. legs snapping closed before dave growls into your mouth and opens them again, gathering your slick in his fingers and pushing his middle into you. you've masturbated a few times (more than that okay), but the feeling of someone else touching you so intimately makes you whine and shake. soon hes got you opened up on two of his fingers, pushing your pants down with his other hand and then undoing your belt. okay. wait.

"dave-"

"mhmmm??" dave murmers, sucking a bruise on your collar bone.

"please go slow."

"whatever you want, baby." but that answer doesn't satisfy you. you yank him by the hair to look at you.

"dave, i'm so serious, i've never done this before." dave's mouth drops and his eyes go wide. he's gonna take your virginity tonight. he gets to be the first one to feel you. hes so fucking hard it hurts thinking about it. you look so sweet spread out like that. he wants to make it good for you. he notices youre trembling, and soothes your bare back with the hand that isnt two nuckles deep in you.

"okay, honey. i'll take it slow. gonna make you feel good." the rest of your clothes are discarded on the floor, dave taking himself in hand and lining up with your sopping endrance. "eyes on me, lips on mine." he says gently, before pushing in. you whimper and cry, tears welling up in your eyes at the stretch of him. hes so big, youre so tight. youre so overwhelmed by him, as he is by you. dave, surprisingly considerate, waits for you to relax around him. massaging your thighs as he keeps kissing you, pulling back to check on you until you give him the okay to move.

when he does, oh, does it feel good. nothing compared to your fingers. he's reaching spots that you didn't know you had. "gonna fuck this pretty pussy so good. never gonna want anyone else..." you're already so close, so wound up after dave's fingering. he brings a hand back down to rub your clit. "come on, cum on my cock. you're so tight, know you're close. you can do it.."

your knees draw up higher, legs shaking around his waist, hand now grasped in his free one while your other tweaks your nipple, and then you're shaking apart under him. "that's it.. so good. fuck, look at you. oh, oh fuck, you're making me cum.." and then dave is thrusting once, twice, into you and then spilling inside you with a drawn out groan.

when you land back on earth, dave has pulled out of you, having brought you up to rest against him where he's squeezed in next to you. "feeling okay?"

"mhmmm.. 'was good."

"just GOOD? okay, i think you need another round. gotta do better than that."

you're in for it. but at least you convince him to move to his bed first.

#asks and replies #metallica #dave mustaine #megadeth #megadeth smut #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine x reader

[autumnalternating]

HI I want to talk about the Keroro platoon mechas because I love how thoughtfully they're made and how they relate to their teams dynamic <3

VERY long post under the cut.

As you can see, the first Keroro mechs combine with Giroro being the bottom right leg, Dororo being bottom left, Kururu being left arm, Tamama being right, and Keroro being the head. This is what Kururu later refers to as Robot #1.

Later, when the mechs been destroyed and Shurara throws a tantrum, the team gets saved by what Kururu has dubbed Robot #2. Notice the changes here. Giroro is now the right arm, Kururu is now the right leg, and Tamama is the left arm.

This change is a big deal!

Your legs control your mobility. These, in a symbolic sense, are who I would imagine "carry" the team, or the rocks of the team, for lack of better words.

With robot #1, the base is Giroro and Dororo. Keroro's oldest friends, people he, in almost only a familiar sense, seems to be able to rely on. While all three seem to care about each other, these two are also most likely to shoot Keroro down.

Giroro because he hates when his plans are poorly crafted, and Dororo for refusing to participate in plans deemed too violent, among other things for both men. In relation to what that says about their characters, it almost implies Dororo and Giroro have to stop Keroro from walking into dumb shit. Very literally stopping him; ie controlling his mobility. In relation to Keroro, he uses their refusal as a reason why their plans never work out, ALSO putting the responsibility onto them as mobility.

With the younger duo, Tamama is, very fittingly, Keroro's right hand. Keroro and Tamama would probably like to believe Tamama is that loyal to him. Tamama gets to fuel his fantasy of being closer to the sergeant, and Keroro gets to have someone look up to him. To feel looked up too, in the very least. Kururu is his left hand, as the person who can make pretty much anything happen. I'm sure to Kururu, it'd also be beneficial to be seen as close to Keroro. They are the most loyal to him, in his eyes. Hands.

Now Robot #2 is built SPECIFICALLY to get them out of trouble. If Robot #1 is to represent how the team as it usually functions, Robot #2 is where they're most functional, or where they need to get.

I'll start out with Tamama. It's just a part of growing up that you learn your heroes are human. (He does this in the manga at least.) This doesn't mean he wants to leave him, though. Shown with him being his left hand instead of his right, it's good not to take everything Keroro says to heart, but that doesn't mean he wants to give up on him.

Giroro is his right hand. He's also the only one who is WHOLLY focused on invasion; the reason they're stuck on this planet in the first place. While they both go back and forth at each other all the time, Giroro would die for Keroro. He's trying to get him on the most fruitful path, even though he's harsh with how he goes about that.

Kururu is his left leg. He does more than the platoon has (willingly) acknowledged. He's pretty fucking needed in the case of invasion as a base, but also, he keeps tabs on everyone. He can track them down, finds and stops dangers before they even get to them. Don't get me wrong though, there's something interesting to consider that he moved further from his captains arms. This could represent everything he's kept hidden from the team.

I could say a million things about Dororo's place, mostly because I find it so like him. He didn't move. I'm not saying everyone should shut Keroro down, but Dororo is almost always in the right when he does it. Yes, he would be in a humans perspective to the invasion, but even with Keroro's feelings in mind he does his best to keep things fair. He doesn't take out his feelings over their past. They're both not perfect to each other of course, but Dororo is right where he needs to be. Which brings me to Keroro.

Keroro is the head. I know I've talked about him in relation to everyone else in this post, but there's a reason why you need to focus on that. How he see's the team and how the team gets along changes it's functionality, and as their leader, he needs to pay attention to both. He's pretty much in charge of both. How they see Keroro, how he allows them to see him, and how he see's them is placed right in front of us.

I could easily be reading into a mech that's clearly designed to be marketable, but I'd like to believe there's more to it than that. It's shows what work Keroro needs to do with his team. Tamama's misplaced idolization, finding understanding with Giroro, getting to know Kururu's everthing, and considering Dororo in general. And when it comes back to Keroro, it shows that his team won't give up on him. They just need to get a little closer.

Four sources, the whole robot change happens in episode 203.

I don't know if this is anything, but it meant enough to me to type this out at 2 am, so I'm posting it. Please let me know what you think and if there are any errors! Also, if this does seem like I'm reading to much into it, just know I will do it again

#if you read the full thing THANK YOU ILY <333 #this show still has a grip on me. the characters are strewn into my nervous system #keroro #tamama #giroro #kururu #dororo #loveposts #i love you symbolism in stories thank you symbolism in stories

[chronosh0t]

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon-divergence ; Lee's pov ; sfw ; slightly angst. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 〔 NO BETA 〕

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: what if Lee got stuck in a loop? it's based on this tweet I posted weeks ago.

〔 if you like what I write or my edits, consider tip me on ko-fi. you'd help me a lot by donating me. thank you lots 〕

────────────── ❁ ──────────────

It has been so long, too long to count. Nonstop fighting for an end that is far from near, for a thin lay of hope that may or may not come out of the cruelty of reality. The light it's too dim, the air is too heavy, toxic and corrupted, no matter how deep every breath is, it never makes him feel better, less relaxed. Less lonely.

His hands are tired, his legs are having a hard time trying to keep up and his M.I.N.D is completely numb over time. Losing sense, and every single moment that peace seems to greet him, it flies past him as fast as one of his bullets. Breaking him in the silence of rejection, in the middle of the tower where escaping is not an option. For how long will this keep going? He does not know. And, to be fair, he doesn't want to know either. The crushing weight of having a clock ticking, counting what's left and what's yet to come, is not pleasant.

So he opted to ignore it. He made the decision, that day, to do the job only he was able to do. Because that was his sole purpose, at least for now, as much as he wished to change this twisted fate, it wouldn't be fair for those outside. If he was the only one capable, then so be it. Sacrifices must always be done. Be it time, or his own life. Just for the illusion that outside everyone is safe. He will stand over and over, shoot his gun, kill whoever or whatever gets in his way, for a slim chance.

There are short moments when everything is quiet, when not a single cry from despair could be heard, except for his erratic breathing, his feet dragging him to the stairs to finally take a seat after hours of battles and the loud noise of his weapon against the floor. He closes his eyes for a few seconds before taking a small device to call them. He just wants to have a few minutes to talk. Hoping. Wishing.

The call makes it through, and two faces greet him, smiling happily. The girl in red breaks the silence first.

ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while, Lee.” she stops, as if pondering if it's plausible to ask about his condition when it's obvious. “How are things on your side?”

ㅤㅤㅤ“Nothing new. The fights are endlessly annoying but, it's fine. I'm fine.” His voice cracks at the end, how terrible he has been at lying lately, or maybe he is too tired to pretend. Lee knows his teammates are aware of his state.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Lee…” the soft voice from Liv seemed to echo inside the tower, he nods and smile, “I know it's useless to say but, do please take care of yourself. I also know you're capable but.. We are worried about you. Especially Commandant.”She finished, her pink eyes showing great concern.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Commandant is a bit busy now. We would've called him but I know you have your ways.” Lucia explained, a chuckle escaped from her mouth.

Lee laughs at that. Indeed, he has his ways to contact his Commandant. “Thank you, I really mean it.” He finally spoke, the bitterness can be tasted, smelled and felt. Too heavy. “My time is running out. When I get another break, I will try to contact you guys again. Please take care.” He smiles again, and ends the call.

There's never a “goodbye”. Because he doesn't want to think about an end. As much as he is tired and his frame is at its limit on par with his M.I.N.D slowly losing complete focus from time to time, more often than not, Lee would reject the idea of a last call with his friends. That won't happen. He refuses to let that be part of his reality.

More often than not, he finds himself considering giving up and leaving, letting the wheel of destiny decide his punishment but there's something, someone, that keeps him from doing so. Or more like a “possible future”. Where there's no one, when the person he has come to cherish a little bit too much is no longer by his side, where his teammates are no longer walking with him but just a name in a marble stone. That was scary enough for him. The weight it's too much again.

His break is about to end. Taking a deep breath, he takes his device and taps a message and presses the send button, with the same address. For the same person. With the same words. He can feel an insufferable pain packing up inside his chest, filling the space between his ribs, crushing his artificial heart. He is shaking. His eyes are burning and tears are building up, but it's not the time.

It has never been. It probably never will.

He stands up, weapon in his hands. Time is running and it will never stop, no matter how many times he goes back, no matter how much he wishes and hopes, because time has never cared for that. So, for now, he just needs to keep going, and maybe one day, time will stop for him and he will be able to go back home. Go back to his friends. To his Commandant and be part of Gray Raven again.

…………

The digital screen beeps at the new message. He knows who sent it, and it's the reason he is also a bit reluctant to open it. He is always afraid it will be the last. His fingers trace the screen before lightly pressing over the email icon. A small text shows up, saying:

ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while. I know Liv and Lucia are there to take care of you, but I've got to know you enough to understand you're a magnet for troubles. So, don't do anything stupid.

ㅤㅤㅤ I don't have much time, there's nothing new. I am doing as fine as I can, you don't need to worry (I know you will, but don't let my situation distract you from your job, Commandant).

ㅤㅤㅤ ………… I miss you. I miss you a lot. It even hurts a bit sometimes. But I'm always hoping. Hoping that one day I will be by your side again, seeing you smile, holding your hand. I miss your warmth. The idea of going back to you, to Gray Raven keeps me going.

ㅤㅤㅤ I have to go. See you next time.”

And without knowing, despite the distance between them, tears were shed at the same time. Because time was the only thing connecting them.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr lee #lee hyperreal #pgr global #canon divergence #oc x canon #sae pgr writings #pgr commandant #pgr fanfic

[scribblesbyb]

Mirroring in Dialogue: Why Don't Writers Do It?

A/N: This is a contemplative post. I had this thought come to me at random so I'm dishing it out here. It's not necessarily neat, so I appreciate the read. Feel free to give your two cents on this in the comments! - 🐝

Okay, so, I'm starting this post with a quick and funny anecdote; the one that inspired writing this.

A woman was next to me on the treadmill today, and while I don't pay attention to what others are doing (to be respectful and also to better focus on what I'm doing), I noticed every tiny movement I made, she mirrored.

I'd adjust my ponytail, and two seconds later, she's touching her hair. I'd pull my pants up, and she'd play with the hem of hers, making sure it was in place still.

This led me to remember sth I heard about in the TV show The Mentalist, and later read up on, namely mirroring.

I won't bore you with a long definition of what it is, so here's the short version: when humans interact, they may unconsciously mirror the movements, facial expressions, and body language of the other person.

It's the reason people claim 'if smb yawns or sneezes, you do, too' :D

With the exception of when high-functioning psychopaths and sociopaths do it, mirroring is actually kinda fun.

When I'm talking to smb I don't particularly enjoy conversing with, for instance, I'll start to touch my neck or eyebrows every few seconds and wait to see when they'll mirror the gesture. It's a neat game to play to pass the time wasted on talking to them lol.

But I digress. The main idea of this post is this: Why don't writers (us) do this when writing dialogue?

Certain genres have to be as close to reality as possible...and yet, mirroring is hardly present in dialogue. I've never seen one character touch their neck nervously and the other do the same. Usually, if both characters are nervous in this context, the other person will be doing sth else (tapping their fingers or shaking their leg, for ex.)

In my writing, for example, two characters can be smiling, but it's not necessarily mirroring, it's just that...the context allows for them both to be smiling.

As for any other kind of nonverbal expression, I don't ever recall having two characters mirror each other's body language/gestures...etc. just for the sake of the work being as realistic as possible.

Which brings me back to the why. My theory? Simple; it boils down to the 'willing suspension of disbelief'.

Frankly, I have never had a work of art ruined for me just because 'mirroring' wasn't a part of it :D

While it's a neat observation (at least I think so), it doesn't mean the paradigm has shifted. Mirroring isn't going to become a 'literary device or element' that writers have to suddenly keep in mind, like Metaphors or Conflict.

The way I see it? We, writers, can use mirroring to our advantage when we want to. A few examples include:

A character notices that their crush is mirroring their movements. Perhaps they like them too? Do they? Or is it just normal? >.<

Your character is a psychologist/or has knowledge of mirroring (like in the case of The Mentalist) and makes a point to show others/note that someone is/isn't mirroring

A character that knows of mirroring and uses it to pass the time when talking to someone they dislike/a person that won't stop talking...etc. (like yours truly does :D)

A manipulative character that uses mirroring to get their victims to do what they want and control them better.

Got more ideas? Shoot them in the comments, I'd love to hear them!

If you stuck around this far, you're a real one; thank you! 💐

A/N: Can't stress this enough, but please, please, please, if you have sth to add or a takeaway from this, I'd love to read it! I love to learn, and I believe everyone has sth to offer, so go ahead and don't be shy lol Love, B 🐝

#writeblr #writing #writblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writer things #writerscommunity #writer #on writing #creative writing #writing dialogue #blurb #random thoughts #random though of the day #mirroring #realisticwriting #contemplativewriting #contemplative