#why does no one listen to him he's actual logic and now he just has to look at his rocks and pretend people are interested in him

[five-abs-and-one-peck]

headcanon Logan has either a collection of geodes that started out by him collecting rocks on the playground or he makes models of the solar system in his spare time

He's a little science guy

#sanders sides #logan sanders #headcanon #sanders side headcanon #ts logan #logan is nerdy and such a silly guy #he needs somebody to talk to about his collections #why does no one listen to him he's actual logic and now he just has to look at his rocks and pretend people are interested in him

[nkogneatho]

𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄- 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

—cw: fem!reader, male and female masturbating, fingering, fistfucking, pillowfucking (put me in a cage pls), desperate gojo because i'll never shut up about that. not proofread.

—a/n: i wish his seiyuu had an asmr channel just like nanami's so this drabble would've been longer. enjoy though <33

You're used to stalking the social media of people you go out with. It comes naturally. Well you live alone in this city, and you sure as hell don't want to stumble across a creep with no defense. You never know what's crippling it's way across this sinful city at night. The questionable news reports just added the oil to the fire of your anxiety. So it was natural that tonight, you were stalking another one of your dates. Gojo Satoru. You knew he was pretty popular when those hand had to leave yours to dap or fist bump his peers on your first date. It's almost as if fifty percent of the city knew him, like a celebrity. If he was really so popular, it would be easy to dig up info about him.

That's what led to you eagerly scrolling past his Instagram, flipping through each highlight as if you were a child who just found the greatest comic book.

party,

party,

and parties.

it was like his mantra the way his entire feed was just him dancing under the influence, in outfits too expensive and champagne to rich. He bathed in the luxury and the people around him were pleasuring off the drops sprinkling. So perfect that he had everyone wrapped around his finger. But won't he do the same to you? Overpower you. All those riches and he decided to go out with you, just so he could make you one of his whores, you were sure about that.

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, tossing your phone away. "Guess i'll have to use my hand again."

You opened your laptop, went incongnito typing the first letter, but your autocorrect knew better. It's like it has memorised what you do at this hour. But autocorrect works on algorithms so you were sure it's your fault that you visit the site so frequently.

The porn website was open and you clicked on search button, specifically typing "hot men jerking off webcam." It was one of your favorite things to watch.

You scrolled through the popular videos you had already watched maybe a million times. There was a reason they were popular. So you just changed the filter and selected "new to old". After rummaging through some of the boring videos, your eyes landed on the preview of one with the most beautiful cock. longest even. Curiously, you click on it. The video starts with the man rubbing his boner through the boxers. You put a hand inside your panties, and all you want right now is for him to take his boxers off. After a few minutes, he does and his long light peach cock springs out. when he leans back, your eyes do a double take.

is that gojo fucking satoru??

And indeed it was. The man who earlier gave you the rich spoiled misogynistic son vibes was now moaning like a slut, begging his viewers to ride their imaginary pussy. He had zero shame. Although...why didn't you log out?? Why did you not switch to some other video?

Because holy shit he is fistfucking his cock like an animal in heat. The chair is shaking and making squeaking noises but fuck who cares about that. Listen to his moans. His fucking whimpers. He changed his placement and now he was on the bed, had the pillow folded in half only to start ramming his dick into it. God! Is this the real Gojo Satoru? Is this what he is? A camboy whoring his body out. Because he has generational wealth so there's no way he is foung that for money. So the only logical answer is because he is such a fucking pussywhore that his exhibitionist cock only cums when there are others watching it.

Your fingers starts vigorously pumping in your cunt. They weren't long enough to reach and you were actually wishing Satoru was fucking you instead of that pillow because look. Look at that long dick. Look at the pretty flushed tip with his precum glistening. Fuck, how'd he taste on your? Sweet? Sour? But you know it would taste warm and filthy for sure.

The man in the screen increases his pace and so do you, imitating him. you want to cum at the same time. you want to see what his cum looks like on the gray pillowcase. your middle finger starts stimulating your clit even more while Satoru in the screen is now snapping his hips rougly against the bed, in the pillow. you imagine yourself in the position. Prone Bone. Never tried it but if it is what he is doing, then you're sure as hell down. It's the way his thrusts can be heard banging against the wood under the mattress even if there's not skin for his to slap against. compared to what other camboys do, talk about how they're going to ruin your dirty little pussy, gojo's is different. he does say he'll ruin your pussy but it's hotter because it is followed by endless pleas.

"fuck—lemme ruin this pussy—anh! please, yeah? gonna make you feel so good, baby please?" almost as if he is actually fucking someone. and you don't think twice before assuming he is talking to you. It's okay to be delusional sometimes. Specially when his words make you cum so hard, that you are whining at the lack of more girth to clench around. you look at the screen and Satoru came too. And he was whimpering. Like actually whimpering because it felt so good. Hot strings of cum now soaked in the pillow. Shit.

When you come back from the bathroom after washing yourself, you hear a notification. you pick up your phone to find a "Free tomorrow night?" from the same man who indirectly made you cum so hard tonight. And after what you saw today, you would be a fucking idiot to miss a chance like this.

"Yeah, Of course. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

*Sent*

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x female reader #gojo x fem!reader

[lyssaluvs]

Hi can you do a Percy Jackson x female reader.she is the daughter of Aphrodite

A little background Percy has this puppy love towards her.she has a fondness towards him but oddly enough even though she is the daughter of Aphrodite she comes off as cold.Ok so this takes place episode five of the series and they are arguing about who will sit in the golden chair.when he sits down and is turned into gold she tries her hardest to get him out.She has the talk with Hephaestus like how Annebeth did in the show.When Percy comes out of chair is was able to hear everything she ways saying.Figuring out she actually does really like him.

Trying Not to Love You - Percy Jackson

Summary: As above.

Warnings: Like one naughty word and a lil peck. Use of Y/n (Idk if that counts)

A/N: This is my first piece of writing so pls be nice, and pls leave feedback. Also, I know logically that they're like 12 and have probably known each other for like two weeks and therefore don’t actually love each other, but for the sake of the story, we're ignoring that. Also x2, I know Nickelback gets hate but they go hard and I'm DONE acting like they don't. (Listen to Trying Not to Love you, which is what this made me think of)

WC: 1.4k (I got carried away 😔)

For a daughter of Aphrodite, I sure don’t seem like one. My siblings and I get along just fine, but no one can deny the differences between us. We differ in that where my siblings are outgoing, smiley, and warm, I happen to be more reserved, more introverted. Many suggest I’m colder than my siblings, but that’s not the case. I’m just wary, and if that presents as being cold, so be it. We share traits, of course. We’re kind, socially aware, and well… beautiful. And with that, often comes an onslaught of suitors. Sure, I had a few, but none that I ever felt drawn to. And none that stuck out quite like Percy Jackson did.

“He’s staring again.” My sister said as she nudged my side. I look up from my plate and meet his gaze. He sends a panicked smile before a blush spread across his cheeks and he quickly looks back down at his food.

“Poor thing looks like a kicked puppy, you should talk to him, put him out of his misery.” My sister continues. I hum and tilt my head before getting up to make my way toward the fire. I scrape the last of my brisket off my plate as I hear him approach.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hi Percy.”

“It’s, uh, pretty warm out, huh. Not all that pleasant standing by the fire. Maybe we should, I dunno, go for a walk? By the lake maybe?” He presses his lips together and looks at me with those puppy dog eyes. Were his eyes always that pretty? No. Stop it.

“Sorry Percy, we’re having girls night in our cabin tonight, I can’t” I quickly explain. Sure, it’s not nice to lie, but it has to be done. What are my options? Keep saying no until he loses interest, or give in to the temptation, and eventually have to break his heart? He doesn’t deserve that. The former it is.

I quickly make my way back to my cabin, and into bed.  Not turning around to see that he does, in fact, look like a kicked puppy.

---

“Y/n”

My head snaps up and I quickly glance around. What? Me?

“Customarily, one waits to at least hear a name or two before choosing. Are you sure you don’t want to hear more?” Chiron states apprehensively

Apparently not… I think to myself as Percy goes on a spiel about how he must choose those he trusts most. Why me?

---

Cold, wet, and coughing. That pretty much sums up my state right about now. Somehow, I had made it out of the water when I surely thought I was going to drown. Had that been Percy?

I fumble my way off the ground, taking Percy’s outstretched hand.

“Are you ok? You’re not hurt?” He rushes out as he looks me up and down franticly.

“I’m fine, Percy. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no, of course. Sorry if I was too rough, I’m kinda making it up as I go along.”

I just smile as we direct our gaze to the grand, golden statue in front of us. There it was, the shield we’d almost drowned to get to our hands on.

“How are we supposed to get that thing down?”

I look between the statue and the chair that say at its feet. “These things are connected somehow. It’s a machine, but how do you start the machine?” I say as I scan the mechanism for any clues.

Percy seems to retreat into his mind for a moment before coming to a realisation. “It was a gift with a hidden purpose. Hephaestus offered it to Hera, but as soon as she sat in it, she couldn’t get up.”

Percy continued to explain, and it finally clicked. One of us has to sit in it. One of isn’t getting out of it.

“I’ll do it.” I say without thinking. I didn’t need to think about it, it was a no-brainer. Between the two of us, Percy needs to continue, and for some reason I don’t let myself delve into, I have no objections giving my life for his.

“What? Wait a minute!” He grabs my wrist to stop me from proceeding towards the chair.

“No, Percy. It’s me or you, and I’m not going to let it be you.”

“Y/n, no! I brought you on this quest because I couldn’t bear the thought of you not being by my side. I didn’t want to go anywhere you wouldn’t be.” He let go of my hand and I immediately missed his touch.

“Percy- “

“Y/n. Listen to me. It’s ok. Even if you sit in the chair, the outcome would be the same. A piece of me would go with you, and I’d be no use to the quest. You’re strong. You don’t need me.”

He took a lunge and planted himself firmly in the chair. Molten gold crawled its way up his legs and I could hear cogs and wheels spinning within the machine. Oh gods, this is really happening.

“Percy, stand up! This isn’t funny, Percy, please!”

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Y/n. I’m ok.”

And just like that the gold had made its way across his face and it was done. He’d been turned into a statue, and it was my fault.

The shield dropped to floor with an echo, but I barely heard it. I need to fix this.

I made my way around to the back of the chair and dropped to my knees. I brushed my hands across the machine, praying to whoever would listen. Mum, please. Help me out here.

And just like that, a man had appeared at the platform above the statue.

“Hephaestus” I heard a small voice whisper, from nowhere, yet everywhere.

Thanks, Mum. I won’t let you down.

“Can I help you? Do you need some help finding your way out?” He played a melodic tune on his harmonica and a ladder appeared, leading up to the platform.

“I’m not leaving without him, Hephaestus. And if you’re not going to help me, can you please leave me alone so I can focus?”

“In spite of what you may have been told, I am not someone who can be pushed around.”

I let out a sigh and deflated my shoulders. Tears blurred my vision, but I pulled them back. Now isn’t the time, I need to focus.

“Hephaestus, please. I can’t do this without him, despite what he may think. I know you know how this feels. To love someone you know you can’t have. But you got another chance when the gods gave you my mother, I won’t be afforded such a luxury. My mother has been more than generous giving me someone like him, someone I don’t deserve. I won’t get that again. I’ll never find someone like him, never love someone like I love him. Please, Hephaestus, I’m begging. Let him go. Let me have him, let me love him.”

The man hung his head. I couldn’t tell if he was moved by what I had said, or if it just pissed him off. I just hope to the gods I wasn’t the latter. He turned his back and I mirrored him in hanging my head. I had failed.

Another note played from his harmonica and my ear perked up, along with my hope. I shot to my feet as I heard the gears in the chair start to move. Making my way around to the front of the chair, I saw him again. Those sea green, puppy dog eyes I had tried so hard not to love. He took a gasping breath as the last of the gold melted off of him.

He stood from the chair and immediately pulled me into an embrace. Without thinking, I let myself hug him back, indulging in his hold for once.

“I heard you.”

“What?”

“I heard what you said when I was in the chair, Y/n.”

What??? Oh fuck…

He moved his hands from my shoulders to my cheeks and rested his forehead against mine. “I feel the same, you know I do. And I know you don’t want to let yourself feel that way, because you think you’ll break my heart, but I don’t care. Please, Y/n, let yourself love me. Gods know I let myself a long time ago.”

I stared into his eyes at a loss for words. I placed my hands on either side of his face and pressed my lips to his.

“I’ll take that as-”

I just kissed him again.

credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!!!

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson fluff #fluff #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo x you #pjo imagine #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #pjo tv show

[7-wonders]

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman #the sandman imagine

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

#aurae analyzes #dr ratio #drratio #veritas ratio #analysis #character analysis #honkai star rail #hsr #aventio #ratiorine #aventurine #dr ratio x aventurine #character study

[baeshijima]

— only under the rain do we shine

just some instances wherein you’re caught under a sudden downpour and you find yourself joined by the company of a familiar man.

INCLUDES : alhaitham ; dainsleif ; diluc ; zhongli

reader is gender neutral w/ you/your pronouns !!

A/N :  *gasp* sophie writing smth in canon timeline rather than an au ??? :shocked_pikachu_face: (blatantly ignores dains part while typing this haha,,,) i just love me some rainy (kinda) romantic moments ;w;;

likes and REBLOGS are appreciated if u enjoyed this !! <33

— alhaitham : kissing in the rain

“are you looking to catch a cold?”

“i’m not cold,” you huff out in response to alhaitham’s remark. “i’m feeling rather warm, actually.”

he blankly eyes your drenched form with scrutiny, and you fight the urge to shiver from the water droplets landing along the back of your neck. it’s not your fault the rain decided to pour when you decided to take a stroll! curse the weather and its unpredictable changes.

he gives a low hum after a few seconds of silence. “then why are your lips trembling?”

“i was just so excited to see you that my lips started to tremble— ack!”

the scribe stares blankly at you once more as he watches you try to rapidly blink away the raindrop that landed in your eye. he takes a brief glance at the downpour steadily increasing in strength before sighing to himself and stepping closer to you, lifting part of his cape to shield you from further onslaughts.

alhaitham had always thought rationality was the best and most efficient course of action. why should one prioritise fleeting emotions over sound evidence and logic? it never made sense to him, and he always thought it would simply stay that way.

well, keyword being “thought”, that is.

had he been told in advance that all sense of rationality would be promptly tossed aside when matters concerning you arose, he would’ve simply ignored that person and walked away. as much as he enjoys listening to others’ viewpoints and thoughts, some things are too illogical and farfetched.

but now he’s become a victim of irrationality and it’s all your fault. whether it’s the accumulation of time he’s spent with you that sparked this unyielding fondness or your terribly reckless habit of acting without much thought beforehand that makes him want to grovel, he doesn’t know. it’s simply a mystery to him how you’ve managed to weasel your way into his heart and plague his mind without much effort.

was it a year ago? no, it was longer than that. perhaps back in your student days? well, thinking back on it won’t change the irreversible. even when you smile at him like you are now, a sight to behold for his traitorous heart that only dares to pound so erratically when in your presence. even now the rain does little to deter him. in fact, it only seems to spiral him further, what with the way the raindrops drip off the contours of your face makes his mind shut down and fixate on the wet gleam along your lips.

ah. screw it.

in a deft movement he dips towards you, head angled and perfectly aligned with yours. something happens, and it’s only after his lips reluctantly part from yours do you realise what it was.

your lips tingle. is it from the kiss or is it from the heat steadily washing over you, the cold now drowned out?

“you’re warmer now.”

there’s something off about his tone — it’s filled with unspoken passion and void of his usual mechanical composure; almost as though he’s come to a groundbreaking revelation.

he stays close, lips barely a hair’s breadth away from yours. as much as you want to deny it, you can’t help but to agree with his statement. in fact, you’ve long-since forgotten the fact it was raining until now.

(mentally though, of course. you wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction of you openly admitting the affect he has on you. even if he knows a bit too well. but you can just ignore that.)

“however,” he continues in a mutter, and you suddenly find yourself at his mercy as his hand takes hold of your cheek in a gentle caress. “i don’t think you’re quite warm enough.”

yeah, maybe it would be a good idea to stop here and get out of the rain before one of you actually catches a cold. but alhaitham has only ever experienced irrationality and impulsive desires when with you, and this time is no exception.

— dainsleif : seeking shelter from the rain

sidestep to the left. duck. parry. clang! step to the right. clack! raise your arm—!

a resounding thud echoes across the training grounds. you catch your breath on the ground as you watch your training sword skid across the dirt before coming to a stop at the edge of the ring.

“you’ve gotten better, [name],” dainsleif states with a smile. he leans down with one hand stretched out towards you, the other clutching his own training sword at his side.

you huff lightheartedly and accept his hand. “i’m still light years away from your level of skill, captain.”

“what matters is your improvement. don’t be comparing yourself to others.”

you roll your eyes and walk over to the benches, guzzling down the contents of your water bottle and wiping away the lingering sweat with a spare towel. how typical of him. i’ll compare myself as much as i want just to spite him.

“and don’t drink your water so quickly. you’ll choke—” 

his reprimands are cut short when you interrupt him with a slew of coughs, your fist banging against your sternum. immediately, he panics. he rushes to your side and hovers over you for a second or two before patting your back in hopes of alleviating your discomfort.

you settle not a moment after, and he would be breathing a sigh of relief if not for the cunning glint in your expression. if he didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t believe you nearly lost to a bottle of water mere seconds ago.

“y’know, captain, you’re a really clumsy guy.”

“and whose fault do you think that is...” he finds himself muttering. it’s moments like these he’s glad you don’t hear him, for the embarrassment would be too much if you saw the opportune moment to tease him.

“hm? did you say something?” your only response is him turning away and downing his own water. isn’t that hypocritical of him? did he not just see what happened to you, or does he want to experience it that badly?? “uh, captain? shouldn’t you slow down there—” drip. “huh?”

a drop of water hits the tip of your nose. just as you’re about to squint up at the sky, you find yourself being pulled along to the nearest sheltered area in haste. unfortunately, the tree your captain pulled you to does little to avoid the downpour now ensuing, but it’s the thought that counts.

the rain persists and you can just about make out the blurry figures of your comrades running under cover somewhere far off. from what you can see, however, they seem to be having about the same luck as you both.

(you could’ve sworn you saw one knight nearly face-plant if it weren’t for the saving grace known as halfdan, who barely managed to catch him in time.)

with no end in sight you turn to your captain wringing the excess water from his gloves behind you, only for the words you were about to say dissipate at the tip of your tongue instead and a new sound replace it.

it wasn’t intentional, but the laugh that slips by your lips is good-natured all the same. with how the rain made your captain’s hair all flat and stuck to his face, it was impossible to not find the sight at least a little cute. and so without much thought you reach up, brushing away the damp strands from going into his eyes with such concentration that you miss the way his eyes widen and quiver, his body stiffening in place.

his throat runs dry at the close proximity, and he would feel embarrassed by the heat engulfing his body if not for his brain short-circuiting.

“there!” you grin, eyes closing in tandem with your widening smile, and the twilight sword finds himself at a loss once more when before you. “now your hair won’t obstruct your view!”

you’re right. he can see you clearer than before. though that holds little weight when the rest of the world always seems to blur together and leave only you to stand unaffected in the centre of it all — in the centre of his world.

(to hope for this time with you to last an eternity… is that such a selfish thought?)

— diluc : lending the other their jacket

crystalflies had always been a fascinating entity in your eyes. its existence was something akin to that from a fairy tale, though you suppose with the addition of visions and elemental lifeforms anything could be possible.

perhaps it’s the way they always seemed to flock to and hover over you ever since you were young, always keeping you company when you were on your own. people have always said they disliked human interaction, opting to flee when a certain perimeter is met. but you’ve never encountered such an issue — maybe they are the problem.

you blink at the crystalfly sat in your cupped hands, the anemo particles shimmering gently in the darkened rain.

well, they’re cute at least.

a weight abruptly drops itself atop your head and the crystalfly resting in your palms flutters away. from the warmth and scent alone you knew who the culprit and owner of the jacket was.

you turn your head to glance over your shoulder with narrowed eyes and a petty heart. “you didn’t have to scare away the crystalfly like that.”

the winery tycoon merely sighs at your accusatory tone. “i think preventing you from getting sick is more important than a crystalfly getting scared.”

“i’m strong!”

“say that again after remembering the incident from last time,” diluc instantly retorts.

at that you fall silent, a defeated pout settling upon recalling your bedridden week during the last heavy downpour. actually, scratch that, you don’t really want to remember.

(both the incessant pain and diluc’s worried-sick expressions... yeah. you’d rather forget that time.)

hugging the coat to also cover your body you glance up from your crouched form to inspect the expression the man has right now. aside from his usual nonchalant expression there’s a forlorn glaze in his eyes as he stares into something inconceivable to your eyes, but you can hazard a guess as to what it was that caused him to fall into this stupor. (it was raining heavily like this on that day, too, after all.)

“and what about you? what can your short sleeves do in this weather?” you take a jab, and it effectively snaps him out of his daze. unfortunately for you, however, he makes one back.

“i, at least, have plenty of body heat to keep me warm, so i’ll be fine.” you’re about to let out a protest, but he cuts in before you can ever open your mouth. “that’s why i gave you my jacket. is it not warm enough?”

you can’t deny it. it’s warm — too warm, almost. but it’s comforting nonetheless.

diluc’s eyes soften when you bury your face into the warmth of his coat. that familiar flutter of his heart soars once more, and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you even if he wanted to.

when he couldn’t find you within the manor he panicked, the dropping of his heart heavier than before. finding you crouched by the grapevines surrounded by crystalflies was no strange sight, but with the recent fluctuations of the weather it made him worry more. so he rushed, driven by the sight of you lying sick in his bed on a similar day to this to prevent you from being in such pain once more.

for you, who’s been by his side even through both his best and his worst, this is the very least he can do; diluc can only hope you accept his company into the unforeseeable future as well.

“come on, let’s go in. adelinde prepared dinner for us while you were out gallivanting in the rain.”

“wha— i was not gallivanting! the crystalflies called for me!”

“yes, yes. let’s hurry now or you really will get sick again.”

— zhongli : sharing an umbrella

liyue harbor always seems bustling, so much so that you can’t recall a time where it wasn’t throughout your years of living here. even when a steady downpour occurs, just like now.

“of course it’s just my luck the rain starts after i finish shopping,” you mumble. you’re grateful the shopkeeper lent you one of their spare umbrellas just as it started. if not for them you would’ve been sprinting through liyue’s streets just to get back home without too much damage done to your shopping.

well, life seems to enjoy spiting you.

a lonesome figure catches your eye amidst the rushing crowd, and it takes you a moment to realise it’s zhongli. you always thought of him to be rather otherworldly, but standing still in the middle of such a downpour is a whole new kind of, uh, otherworldly. can’t all be sane and good-looking, you suppose.

he’s someone you’ve come to worry about in the time you’ve known him (which, admittedly, isn’t all that long. it’s like he just appeared one day out of the blue and stayed ever since!). he’s rather wise and has a good head on his shoulders, but even so, there are moments where his expression shifts; like he knows something you shouldn’t even dare to dream of, or sees something far beyond your comprehension. there are times where even his shared stories and history lectures have an unspoken sense of experience.

in short, he’s an enigma. a bit of a weirdo sure, but not enough to the point you’d avoid him altogether.

and so it’s because of that very sentiment you’re changing course and heading towards him instead of the comfort of your home. can’t have one of the few good people you know catch a cold now, can you?

he’s lost in thought, zhongli is. the rain has minimal affect on him, the ongoing war raging constantly within his body being more detrimental than a few drops of rain. so really it’s easy for him to reminisce on days such as this — alone in dreary weather accompanied by a sombre mood... it’s practically the perfect setup.

idly, he wonders just how many rainy days such as this have gotten him so wistful. no, perhaps it would be best to not think too deeply on it and continue on his way.

a shadow hovers over him and he can no longer feel the dampness of the rain stain his clothes. he glances up — an umbrella? — and not a moment later does he turn, your narrowed gaze meeting his perplexed one. 

“jeez, you’re such a handful.”

...he is?

with a sigh you take a step forward. zhongli blinks at the gesture, only noticing a second later your outstretched arm holding an umbrella between you both and connects the dots.

“there’s no need to worry about me,” he says, about to urge your umbrella back to shield you in your entirety. unfortunately for him, you’re stubborn.

“but you’ll get sick if you keep standing out here the way you were just now. we can just share.”

but i’m not a mortal like you, he wants to retort. he’s not like you, who can get sick without a moments notice. he’s not like you, who has only ever known life within the comforts of liyue harbor and its people. he’s not like you, whose blissfully radiant smile eases his weary soul. he’s not like you, who can effortlessly adapt to and understand human emotion. he’s not like you... you who deserves something meaningful in your fleeting lifespan.

he’s not like you, and you’re not like him. (oh, how he hopes you never have to face even a minuscule fraction of what he’s been through.)

it is only after your persistent stare does he eventually cave, a defeated smile resting helplessly on his lips at this situation.

“then allow me to at least hold the umbrella.”

and you beam at him in response, hugging your soggy shopping bag to your chest in delight.

“alright!”

he’s not like you, but maybe he can learn how to be while by your side.

(just for a moment, perhaps he can forget about the corrosion eating away at him. even if it’s as fleeting as the days that pass by.)

general taglist : @tiredsleep​ @hannas16​ @volexis​ @ladycoleigh​ @sea-of-dandelions​ @fandangotales​ @absolutely-rational​ @starforecasts​ @lilikags​ @astranne​ @irethepotato​​ @usertsubaki​​ @0ni0m​ @yanderealm​​ 

(if u would like to join my general taglist, then pls fill out this form !!)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #dainsleif x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #zhongli x reader

[rambling-prince-thoughts]

rewatching selfishness vs selflessness for the 100th time in a row and there’s this one detail that i always notice. it hurts like a bitch every time i see it too.

in the scene where janus is questioning logan, he obviously takes advantage of the fact that logan had been forgotten by thomas and the rest of the sides when they all entered the courtroom scenario in the first place. logan was (rightfully and obviously) shocked to notice that they were enacting the scenario without him, logic, the person who would undoubtedly be the most excited to do so and would have the most knowledge about courtroom procedures.

but there is the moment where he says that there’s “always room for him” and janus responds with, “i know, that’s what i said! but patton insisted we leave you alone” and that moment sticks with me whenever i watch this episode.

logan immediately turns to look at patton with a surprised, hurt look on his face because he can’t believe that patton would say something like that about him. it’s true that him and patton don’t usually see eye to eye on things, but patton does value his input and they resolved most of their issues during the earlier stages of the sanders sides videos (although not completely).

i find that interesting because whenever janus targets logan, he always makes it a point to draw attention to the fact that logan isn’t very well liked, mostly because he embodies logic and claims not to feel anything, unlike the rest of the sides (who as thomas once put it, are too zany or relatable). he even calls out logan for this during the events of svs.

his “oh, of course you don’t” is dripping with sarcasm and janus is the lord of the lies, he would know when someone is lying. keeping that aside, it was obvious that a few minutes ago, janus’ lie about patton disregarding logan’s usefulness during the courtroom scenario hurt logan, so much so that it was visible on his face. roman’s comment of “did you see the look on his face?” was a nod to that.

so logan, in saying that he doesn’t feel anything, is lying about his own feelings.

additionally, it’s not the first time janus has used patton specifically to counteract logan and lie to him. the whole episode of “can LYING be good?” featured janus, disguised as patton, playing to logan’s likings via patton’s charm. it was evident from the first minute that logan appeared onscreen.

after that, he simply had patton reference famous philosophers, and logan clearly admired that because he seemed to be quite happy about it, even though virgil immediately became suspicious.

janus picked up on the fact that logan didn’t believe that patton would ever try to hurt him on purpose, and at least patton wouldn’t exclude him from things. that patton would listen to him. which makes it all the more sad that in svs redux, when logan said that philosophers would not agree with patton (after patton asked for his input), patton took the easy way out and pulled logan out of the situation.

it’s also why logan ignored patton when he tried to offer comfort after logan reappeared and said “i’m just here to deliver one last fact, then i will do you all a favour and spare you my company.” in fact, he ended up yelling over patton so he could get his point across and actually be heard.

i love logan and patton’s duo, and i really hope they resolve this during logan’s arc. in the meantime, sending love to our logical boy because he needs it.

(an unofficial part two to this post is now up, delving a little more into logan and patton’s relationship. i’ve hyperfixated on the glasses gays at this point /hj)

#sanders sides #rambling prince thoughts #logicality #logan angst #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #selfishness vs selflessness #logan really needs a break #someone please give him a hug too while you’re at it #the nerd is trying his best and we love him for it

[natimiles]

LEVI IS A SMART COOKIE — HEADCANONS (AND APPRECIATION?)

🐟 Let’s start stating the obvious: he is hella smart. He’s an Admiral, he had to study and work hard for it! He might be shy and socially awkward, but we can’t invalidate his entire personality just because he actually says “ROFL” out loud. A person (or demon, in this case) can be goofy and smart — one doesn’t cancel out the other.

🐟 That settled, here is what I think about it:

🐟 From strongest to weakest (and to make things easier), I’d rank his intelligences: visual-spatial, logical-mathematical, verbal-linguistic, naturalistic, bodily-kinesthetic, musical, intrapersonal and interpersonal.

🪸 Visual-spatial: he needs to be good at it if he’s gonna navigate. He barely leaves his room, but he’s got the whole Devildom mapped out in his head. He can walk blindfolded and still be able to arrive at RAD or anywhere he needs to go.

🪸 Logical-mathematical: he has an insanely good strategic mind. You think he’s an Admiral just because he’s one of the Seven Lords? He’s got serious skills in what he does, or it wouldn’t have worked out.

🪸 Verbal-linguistic: he might have a hard time speaking to new people, but he has good communication once he trusts you enough. He can be assertive when he needs to and, again, he has to be able to communicate when he’s commanding his crew. And he’s a really good writer.

🪸 Naturalistic: he loves animals! He looked at a giant snake and decided it was a good friend. He has Henry 2.0 for who knows how long and he takes such good care of him. For me, he loves the ocean, from both the Human and the Demon World. He is a sea serpent demon, so he can swim with all sorts of creatures, learning about them along the way. Sometimes, he even feels a connection to those deep-sea dwellers — living in the dark, solitary depths. (you’re welcome for the angst thought)

🪸 Bodily-kinesthetic: he has good coordination and no one can convince me otherwise. He likes to learn the choreographies of his favorite idols. I think he can learn it pretty fast, and he can teach it easily if you want to learn it too. Now you can dance together and it’s wholesome. Not to mention, he still is a demon and #3 in their power rank. He didn’t get that number randomly. Also, he can sew his own cosplays; he needs good coordination for sewing.

🪸 Musical: he learned about music for his pleasure. He is good at listening to the slight change in rhythm, so he knows exactly when to do a certain move when he’s dancing and all the cues when he’s singing. He will annoy you if you sing it 0.02 seconds earlier. He can play the keyboard and probably the drums.

🪸 Intrapersonal: his self-esteem is not good (we just need to help him a little), but I think he has a deep comprehension of himself. He knows what he likes and dislikes, how he’ll react when something happens and how to deal with his own outbursts. Understanding and putting it into practice, however, aren’t always the same, and that’s where emotions take the lead (hence why it’s intelligence #7). That’s when he summons Lotan.

🪸 Interpersonal: do I need to say something? I love my boy, but he has a hard time meeting new people and that's fine too.

Masterlists

#he's so much more than an otaku #and it's my mission to help him see it too #we stan levi in this blog and we always will #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me levi #obey me leviathan

[foliosriot]

Love’s The Death Of Peace Of Mind — Pt. 2

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

warnings: none, just kinda very short

tags: @malice-ov-mercy @measuredingold @crimson-calligraphyx @chels3a-smile @misspygmypie @veronicaphoenix @loverofagoodbeard @catj422

masterlist. tdopom masterlist.

“Hello?”

“I’m fucking panicking.”

The line is silent for a few beats, and it has you worriedly thinking if Jolly just hung up on you. But then there’s a deep sigh that has you feeling momentary relief.

“Why, exactly, are you fucking panicking?” Jolly asks carefully.

“I texted Noah,” you tell him, nervously nibbling at the tip of your thumbnail.

“That’s good! I’m proud of you for finally communicating with him,” Jolly praises you.

“No, it’s not good, Jolly!” you fire back. Stress is eating away at you, anxiety bubbles violently in your stomach. “I have never felt such panic since Fall Out Boy’s hiatus after Folie à Deux!”

“Wow, okay. That’s … That’s a strangely niche reference I haven’t heard you talk about for a long time.” Jolly looses another sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“He told me he misses me.”

The line goes silent again. Your leg is bouncing as you sit atop one of the stools under your kitchen counter. Your phone is face-up on the counter on speaker, and you know Jolly hasn’t hung up because the call time is still ticking. But that still doesn’t calm your nerves by any means as you wait for his response.

It’s been two days since you texted Noah, two days since he replied, two days since Bad Omens released their third album THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. You hadn’t known how to go about Noah’s response so you’d thrown yourself back in to work and whatever chores needed to be done around your apartment. Your resolve had finally cracked when you shamelessly listened to the record for the sixth time (at least you think it was the sixth listen).

As soon as Miracle had ended that last time, you immediately called Jolly. You didn’t know who else to talk to. And thankfully, Jolly knows both parties personally and is the one who had told you to text Noah in the first place, so it was simply logical, actually.

But that hadn’t made it any less aggravating to wait for him to answer the damn phone call.

Finally, Jolly says something, but it has you wishing he had just hung up on you.

“He does miss you.”

God, and isn’t that just fucking wonderful information? The single sentence brings tears to your eyes. You fold your arms on top of the counter then rest your cheek against them.

“Jolly, he—“

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” Jolly’s voice is firm, and it almost feels like a parent scolding their child. You bite your tongue anyways. “You told me you were the one to stop texting in the first place. You said your feelings were all messed up and didn’t know how to talk to him about any of it. Don’t think that your decisions didn’t hurt him, because they did. Noah wanted to talk to you about what happened but you ignored his calls, right?”

You hate how well Jolly knows you. You say nothing.

“There’s so much of you in the album, it’s fucking crazy,” Jolly continues. “Noah misses you so much more than you think he does. He wanted to figure this shit out with you. But he ended up just compiling all of it into those songs because you couldn’t pick up the damn phone.”

Tears are spilling down your cheeks now. Jolly’s words hurt — god, they really fucking hurt. But he’s speaking with so much honesty and sincerity it makes you sick. Because yes, you were the one to ignore Noah’s calls and voicemails when you first started losing touch. You couldn’t deal with what you were feeling, nor could you express how you felt at the time. You don’t think you’d be able to now.

But you need to. All of these feelings and emotions have been festering inside of you for years and years. They were nearly overflowing the first time you and Noah were intimate, then they finally flooded every inch of your body the last time you spoke. You just didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.

However, as your vision is blurry with tears and you’re quietly sniffling, you know what you need to do.

“I miss him, Jolly,” you whisper in a broken voice, scared it won’t carry through the speaker. “I miss him so much.”

“Then talk to him,” Jolly says, gentler this time.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, relenting only when you see fuzzy stars and nebulas accumulate beneath your eyelids. More tears slip down your face as you blink repeatedly.

“I’ve lost him once already. I don’t wanna do it again.”

“You haven’t lost Noah, trust me,” Jolly assures you. “To this day, he is still your best friend, whether you realize it or not.”

“What do I do, Jolly?” you ask timidly. You’re scared by his potential response, but you are already mentally writing down what you want to say after this phone call ends.

“Text or call him, and set up a time to meet,” Jolly suggests. “If you don’t, you’re gonna drive yourself insane. I mean, you’ll be our number one Spotify listener for the entire year, but let’s avoid that this time around, okay? I’d like to prevent that from happening for a bad reason.”

You chuckle a bit at Jolly’s antics. But you find yourself nodding, even though Jolly can’t see you. You push up off the countertop with a spark of something settling in your stomach.

“Okay, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” you tell him. You sniffle then stay quiet for a short minute. “Thank you, Jolly. I’m sorry for dumping all of this onto you.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” he responds. It’s evident that he has a smile on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah, for sure. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you.”

Jolly hangs up and you’re left in the quiet of your apartment.

Now, after having talked to your older brother figure — who made you cry, that fucking asshole — you feel a sliver of determination embedding itself into your ribcage. You can feel it burrowing into the bone and marrow, slowly spreading across your entire skeleton. It infects your organs and veins and bloodstream, until it’s all you feel.

You wipe away any tears that had fallen in the past couple minutes. Your skin is hot beneath your fingers and you can your pulse in your palms. But you ignore the heat radiating off of you as you open your phone with shaky hands.

A moment later, Noah’s contact is staring at you. You’re hesitant to open your shared text thread and ask if he wants to meet up and talk. But Jolly’s encouragement echoes from every corner of your skull, each word reverberating into the tissue of your brain until it is the only thing you can remotely think about.

Then you’re typing and sending off your message before you can think twice about it.

You gingerly set your phone back down on the counter. Deja vu ripples through you, a scene in your bedroom playing in your head from just a few days ago.

But you shove that memory away as you stand up from the stool. The leg that had been bouncing hurts a bit from constantly jittering, but you ignore the ache as you begin your way to your room. You purposefully leave your phone behind.

After gathering clean clothes and a clean towel for your shower, you head back into the kitchen to retrieve your cellphone. And you see there’s a new text notification present on the screen — one from Noah.

Your heart nearly stops at his reply. You aren’t sure what you should be feeling right now. But he definitely did just say he wants to see you.

You’re shaking uncontrollably as you read the text over and over. It’s almost like you’re waiting for Noah to say this was a joke, that he never wants to see you again for as long as he lives. But it never comes as you continue staring at it.

Noah wants to see you.

Noah wants to talk to you.

Noah wants to—

Meet tomorrow night?!

You must have read that last part wrong. You read through the text several more times to make sure you didn’t misread anything or mistook what he meant. Because Noah asked if tomorrow night at your place works. At 7:00pm.

You almost decline, saying that you picked up another shift from work at that time. And you’re about to begin typing out that gentle rejection when Jolly suddenly texts you.

Jolly🎸☀️: Noah just ran in to the living room telling me you texted him. Fucking smiley bastard. Just know that I’m very proud of you for doing this!

Well, shit. Now you have to accept the meet time.

So you do, standing in the middle of your cramped hallway with anxiety on the verge of spilling out of your mouth. You swallow harshly, choking back the bitter taste as you’re typing out your answer to Noah.

But you can’t help feeling hopeful. It almost overpowers the anxious tugging in your belly. And you let it remain confined inside of you as you take your shower, letting each and every possible scenario for tomorrow night play in your head.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

a/n: let me know if you want to be tagged when i post pt 3!!

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #joakim jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson #the death of peace of mind #alex! ❪ 𖤐 ❫ #alex’s writing! ❪ 𖤐 ❫ #fic: love’s the death of peace of mind

[eldritch-nightmare]

yandere jeff the killer headcanons.

a/n: i had a thought and then the thought spiraled. did i write this to cope? ...perhaps. apparently, when i'm sad, i write yandere content, so. the more you know. maybe i should try making a yandere blog again idk. is this kinda bad? yeah, yeah it is. did it bring me out of a gloomy slump? yeah. it did. it did it's job, so that's all that matters. about halfway through writing this i was like 'is this really yandere atp bc honestly he would just do this casually' but i mean yeah. yeah it, is. listened to pet by a perfect circle while writing this so thumbs up it influenced me a bit.

warnings: gn!reader, yandere content, possessive behavior, ownership, toxic pre-relationships, stalking, isolation, blood, murder, yeah a guy gets decapitated, implied future kidnapping, mockery perhaps, throwing up.

He wouldn't be able to tell you what it is about you that caught his interest because he doesn't know.

You lived across the street from some random couple he killed, and he saw you getting ready for bed through the window of your home, and for some reason, you just... stayed in his mind.

It honestly annoyed him beyond belief. No matter what he was doing, his mind would always drift back to you for some reason. It pissed him off, but not enough to want to kill you. Which only confused him even more.

He hates this, actually. What the fuck.

The most logical thing he decides to do is watch you from afar. He thinks that, maybe, if he stalks you a little bit, his interest in you will fade once he sees how boring you are or something, and then he can kill you and go on his merry little way.

Turns how the exact opposite happens.

A couple weeks into stalking you, Jeff learns that his interest is not at all going away. If anything, it only seems to have gotten worse. This interest he has in you unnerves him a little bit, which is saying a lot because there's not a lot that can make Jeff feel uncomfortable.

He's developed emotional attachments to people before. I mean, yeah, he's a serial killer but he's not heartless. He has feelings. He's just never felt... this before. And it's strange.

But he doesn't hate it. I mean, he does. But he doesn't at the same time, y'know?

For a while, the stalking is all he really needed. He would follow you around maybe once every couple of weeks, and you would be none the wiser. But then it became once a week. And then it was every other day. And now it's whenever he's not doing anything else.

And you're starting to feel his eyes on you wherever you go. You try to brush it off as you just being paranoid, perhaps a sudden discomfort with crowded places or your mind just playing tricks on you when you're alone. It's hard to ignore though, especially when you're in the comfort of your own home.

Jeff thinks your sudden awareness of him watching you is cute. He likes seeing you look over your shoulder every couple of minutes whenever you're outside. He likes how you're always searching for him.

And that's when a shift happens. Alongside his interest in you, a feeling of ownership begins to form.

He started to feel an itch whenever he saw you interacting with other people. At first, the itch only came when you spoke to your friends and family. But then it started to happen when he saw you talking to random service workers as well.

Now, he can't just go around and kill every single person you speak with. He can, however, kill your friends! But don't worry, he doesn't kill all of them. He doesn't want you to feel lonely just yet. He just kills the ones that are too close for his liking.

And he doesn't exactly hide that he's the one who kills them. Why would he? Besides, why would you suspect that the infamous serial killer, Jeffery Woods, is your stalker? I mean, no one would come to such a conclusion. It's all just a coincidence.

But you know better. So when you start to isolate yourself from your friends in hopes that, if there is a chance that he's the person who's been watching you these past couple of months, it'll keep them safe.

And, well... it almost makes Jeff wanna go 'awww' because isn't that just adorable? Honestly, if he didn't have so much fun scaring you from a distance, he'd probably whisk you away right then and there.

He hates that he loves you, and he loves that he can't grow to hate you.

It goes on like this for a while, to be honest. You keep yourself isolated, and if Jeff sees you getting too close to anyone, he'll kill them as a reminder to be good. You haven't even officially met him yet, and he's already in control of your life.

But don't worry, he doesn't just kill the people who try to get close to you! He also kills the ones who say anything bad about you. He doesn't take too kindly to people who badmouth something, or someone, that belongs to him.

Even if you don't want to acknowledge the fact that you belong to him, it's hard to ignore.

Especially now.

You could only stare down in horror at the gift left for you on your doorstep. It was so early in the morning, the sun only just begun rising when you had received a knock on your door.

With how things have been these past few months, you obviously were cautious when you went to see who was there.

A quick peek out the window showed you that no one was there, and for a moment, you thought that maybe some random kids had decided to pull a dumb ding-dong-ditch prank on you.

But that's when you noticed something sitting in front of your door.

You should've just left it alone. Hell, you should've called the cops or something to inform them of a suspicious package left at your house, but you didn't.

Your curiosity is going to get you killed someday, that's for sure.

But you weren't reckless. You made sure to quickly head to your kitchen to grab a knife for protection before you went back to the door to see what had been left behind.

It was... a box.

Nothing that would be too suspicious, if it weren't for the fact that you were most definitely being stalked by a maniac serial killer who may or may not want to kill you. How are you supposed to know his intentions?

There wasn't only a box, of course.

There was a folded note resting on top of the box with your name on it, and in front of it, there was a rose that still had its thorns.

Alarms were going off in your mind, but there was that feeling of being watched again. He was watching you. You could feel him looking at you expectantly, but when you glanced around outside, you couldn't see him.

But you knew he was there. And he wanted you to see what he left for you. He wanted to see your reaction.

That tidbit of knowledge in mind made your nerves spike, and you could already feel nausea burning in your stomach as you hesitantly picked up the note resting atop the box.

Your hand shook as you unfolded the note, and you couldn't deny the wave a fear that washed over you as you read the words written down.

You owe me.

Three little words shook you to your core. Whatever was inside this box was not something you wanted to see, that's something you knew. The grip you had on the knife tightened for a moment as you set the note to the side and carefully moved the rose of the box, making sure you didn't prick your fingers on the thorns.

You had to take in a few deep breaths, setting the knife down and using both your hands to lift the flaps of the box to take a peek inside. You... weren't entirely sure what you were looking at for a moment, brows pinching together as you open the box a bit more to get a better look at the item sitting inside of it.

That's when you make eye contact with the decapitated head of a coworker who had been harassing you these past couple of days.

And you immediately scurried back inside and hurried to the kitchen, where you proceeded to throw up the dinner you had last night into the thankfully empty sink.

You had to swish some water around in your mouth to get the leftovers out, and you left the sink on to clean some of the vomit as you hurry back outside, this time holding your phone to call the police and keep an eye on the stuff that would no doubt be considered evidence.

But instead of finding a box with a head in it, you find a different sight. The box, the note, and the knife you had left behind were gone. The rose was still there, sitting on top of a new note.

This one wasn't folded like the last one, so you could see the words clear as day, and it truly felt as if the world was caving in around you as you stared down at the note. It felt like you were being mocked, to be honest.

See you soon.

#jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #yandere x reader #yandere jeff the killer #yandere jeff the killer x reader #yandere creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader

[respectthepetty]

Tan is my Debbie, and I love him

I don't wanna hurt anybody. I don't enjoy hurting anybody. I don't like guns, or bombs, or electric chairs. But sometimes people just won't listen. And so, I have to use persuasion. And slides. -Debbie Jellinsky

I was for White being the final gay, but . . . SHUT UP, SIR!

We all know he is a smart boy, but why is spilling all the secrets, all the time. Just go with Tan's theory that it's Janta possessing Top, and not drugs. Read the room! It's chaos. We don't have time for logic! If he wants to survive, I need him to lock those lips tight!

And then Phi is just spilling all the tea because he got laid once and caught feelings.

Damn, commit to the fucking bit, bro! If you're gonna be homosexual about it, at least make it "Be Gay, Do Crime" like Tan. For three whole seconds, I actually shipped this!

But Tan NEVER loses focus!

Only for Jin to come in on his shitty high horse trying to call out Tan.

But, once again, my Barbie does. not. lose. focus.

Non is still wearing that red bracelet in these flashbacks

While Phi is promising to protect Jin as they get lost and stalked in the woods and leave an axe in the middle of the road! Non + axe that was left behind = my life force

That's not what I wanted! That's not who I was. I was a *ballerina*, graceful, delicate! They had to go.

Tan had a life. Tan had a future. Then, these boys fucked over his brother, and now he has no one, so I'm fully on Team "Tan gets to kill EVERYBODY"

It's what Debbie would have wanted.

#KILL THEM ALL TAN #Dead Friend Forever #I am now fully on his side #no survivors #and my boy gets to walk out of this alive #WITH HIS BROTHER

[whoistrash]

Why change matters and how Amphibia did it better than The Owl House.

"Watching and Dreaming" made me cry a lot during its premiere. I was amazed and, I'd say, dazed by it. Then I forgot about it for a while. Now I finished re-watching Amphibia for the first time since TOH ended. My hype died down, and I have some thoughts. A lot, actually.

Amphibia's ending was incredibly painful and made me sob like a baby for two whole weeks the first time I watched it. That's because it was not only beautiful and heartbreaking, but truly GOOD. Brilliant, actually. I absolutely agree with a statement that any other ending would literally be a contradiction to the whole main plot, especially Anne's arc. The girls had to learn to let go in order to grow as individuals - the thing they had the biggest problem with. Saying goodbye was the only logical option, plot-wise. It still hurt like hell, though. Separating the multidimensional, against-all-odds relationships (especially my beloved spranne. Ouch, ouch, ouch). The Owl House does no such thing - everybody stays together. They live happily ever after.

Paradoxically, I think that it's the main reason why I'd choose "The Hardest Thing" over "Watching and Dreaming" every single time. I know we shouldn't really compare them in EVERY aspect, since TOH had way more things to deal with in the final episode, but the fact that Luz got to not only stay, but to freely travel between worlds as she pleases really took the whole "growing up and finding your true self no matter what the other people do/say about you" thing out the door. Luz from season one, episode one, and Luz from the finale are not really that different. Well, she certainly became more traumatised and depressed than before, but in terms of personal growth? Nope. Luz - from the very beginning - was cheerful, open, caring and very selfless, willing to literally help every stranger she met no matter how it would affect her. She had little to no boundaries, but, well, you can't argue that she was A GOOD, SELFLESS PERSON. Now, we could say that her arc here would be learning that sometimes you should put yourself before others, that you can't save everyone, that you can't trust every person you meet. And she learns it! She fucking does! She helps Philip not knowing who he will become, and then suffers from the consequences, because she helped the wrong person. And then it's all erased, when she saves Collector's life and meets Papa Titan (or whatever we call them).

I have so much to say about this. All of TOH's "villains" (Amity, Lilith, Hunter, The Collector) that were given a redemption arc literally get turned into lifeless, edgy trauma dumpsters, that suddenly loose all of their previous character, quirks and sass (well, maybe except for Lilith, she just started to express them differently, I think, but still, it was WAY too big of a change). I won't dwell on it (since many, many fans called it out already - as they should), and will focus on something different. The only one marked as irredeemable is Belos. Good. Okay. He's irredeemable, because he's a white, christian puritan who won't listen to anyone but himself. Also a genocidal maniac. That's the lesson for Luz here. "You can't save everyone. Some people are just straight up evil". And it's very, very true. But.

From all of the "villains" I mentioned before, Belos is the one that had the most reasons to, let's say, take a dark turn. Those reasons are what makes him irredeemable - he's just too convinced he's right, because, in his mind, he has evidence to prove it. But how do we learn about this? Maybe by seeing his part of the story? Maybe by learning about his brother and Evelyn, about their relationship? It couldn't be straight up awful, since Philip literally brought his brother back to life over and over again, he wanted his brother, or at least the picture of Caleb that satisfied him the most. There was more to it than only "you betrayed me and now I will hate you forever". Do we get to see any of that? No. Instead we get an all-knowing, all-doing being that literally choose Luz as "the one" for being kind and trusting, that convinces her that Belos is, indeed, a lost cause. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Luz, the person that on the literal episode two was told that there is no such thing as a "chosen one" and that she can't always hop into action to save everybody, because, it's, well, not always possible, DOES EXACTLY THAT in the finale by taking a bullet for The Collector, the, you know, very freshly redeemed and suddenly cute and funky villain, whom Luz trusts immediately. AND SHE IS REWARDED FOR IT BY BEING MADE THE CHOSEN ONE. BY A GOD-LIKE BEING THAT CLAIMS TO BE ALL-KNOWING AND CAN DECIDE WHO IS RIGHT AND WHO IS WRONG, BECAUSE OF PERSONAL (King) REASONS. Just like, you know... Belos? The irredeemable villain? And then Luz lets go of the moral dilemmas that's been keeping her up at night for the past months, makes up her mind, defeats the bad guy, learns nothing, and gets to stay in the Boiling Isles and on Earth. With her beautifully redeemed girlfriend and friends whom she kept secrets from and lied to out of fear of being ostracised (you see the pattern here, right?) for, again, months.

I love Amphibia. I love The Owl House. But Amphibia handles it's "villains", generally wronged characters and the whole change/no change thing way better. Well, maybe besides the Core - they got a bit wasted in my opinion. But still. Sasha. Grime. Marcy. Andrias. Anne herself. They learn and change. And more importantly, they face consequences and come to understand and accept them. There's no "chosen one" here. Anne gets the proposition because she's the first one to use the music box for good in literal millenia. A fact, plain and simple (not an opinion based on personal motivations), that makes sense plot-wise, and adds so, so much to Anne's arc. Because Anne from season one, episode one wouldn't care. The one from the finale cares very damn much. And that's the biggest difference.

Saying goodbye makes the message way stronger. The more I think about it, however, the more I'm starting to be afraid that there's no The Message in The Owl House to begin with. Luz learns very little, yet ends up with everything she ever wanted. There's no power behind it. The "find the right people and choose to trust them, not everyone will be your friend" and "some things are out of your control, some people are just bad" aspect is even weaker, as proven by basically the whole season 3. I will end it by my favorite quote from Amphibia, that I think about on daily basis. Have a good day, y'all.

"Change can be difficult, but it's how we grow. It can be the hardest thing to realize you can't hold on to something forever. Sometimes, you have to let it go; but, of the things you let go, you'd be surprised what makes its way back to you."

#the owl house #amphibia #watching and dreaming #the hardest thing #luz noceda #philip wittebane #anne boonchuy #sprig plantar #toh critical #kinda? #i love this show too much to fully criticize it but i had to write this #it was cathartic

[waokevale]

Looks at you with my eyes sitting in front of you like I'm interrogating you (but it's actually a really nice cozy room). I have heard tale of this WXwood ship. Tell me what you find compelling about the ship I'm considering joining you in WXwood land. Literally just say words at me I'm listening

Alright, very well then, so I shall! 🫡

At first, it was kind of an ironic ship for me, because they seemed like the classic "opposites attract"

But once I got digging, I found they're not actually that opposite, they share plenty of things in common and neither is actually a black or white character. Inevitably I became enthralled with this ship and now it's one of my top 3 or so OTPs.

Here's my reasoning and what I found:

1. WX-78 is actually a bit of a softie if you dig through their quotes enough. They act tough and logical to presumably hide whatever ounce of empathy they have left, that didn't escape them completely. (But they're not doing too good of a job)

Etc. They either use this uncharacteristically soft tone or hide a kind gesture or well-intentioned thought behind robotically constructed sentences and insults.

And of course, I don't have to show the quotes for machines or metallic structures, since WX openly sees them as their family and acts basically the same as Wormwood does with plants.

Meanwhile, Wormwood isn't always an empathetic creature. He can sometimes be callous, apathetic and even have favorites amongst plants (and people too), though he doesn't directly state that. He also isn't as dumb as he portrays himself to be, he definitely knows something, but either has too limited English speaking skills or is actively choosing not to say much.

He often sobs or cries when a creature dies, but there are times he reacts with either "whoops", "oh" or "too bad" like it's a small inconvenience at best.

And those are only some of the examples (I can't show them all since I'm answering this on my phone and therefore there's an image limit)

2. Here's a reason why, despite being vastly different at first, they'd ultimately become friends:

WX-78 actually likes plenty of things that correspond to Wormwood, it's likely for them to eventually settle, once they know enough about him.

And what are those things they like, you might ask?

Bees (going back to their previous quote) since WX is frankly enamored by bees, and since Wormwood blooms, there's countless of them surrounding him. if they were to hang around him, they'd hang around bees too. 👌

Their quote for green gem is: "PRESSURE AND IMPURITIES HAVE PRODUCED PLEASING PERFECTION" which is. well. Something.

They're very fond of pumpkins, describing them as: "IT HAS A PLEASANT SHAPE" while their seed as "IT IS A SOURCE CODE FOR PLEASING PLANTS" And guess who just happens to have a pumpkin skin ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

The lunar affinity. WX practically WORSHIPS the moon, it wouldn't be surprising that, if they found about this aspect about him, they'd get very excited and embrace it, because c'mon, it's the moon. They have dozens of quotes describing how THE MOON IS SUPERIOR, I wouldn't be able to fit all of them into this post, just trust me on that.

WX-78 doesn't hate all organic life, besides they're just playing out a role. But they do certainly appreciate some plants, such as potatoes and lureplants. The former because they can relate to them (potato battery) and the latter because "AWW, IT'S JUST AS EVIL AS I AM". Would it be too farfetched if with his influence they'd grow to appreciate organic life more?

3. Wormwood's quote for W.A.R.B.I.S armor suggests that he admires WX and would like to mimic them. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery after all)

4. The survivors farming animation is quite charming, I certainly loved their small interaction there. They're also shown in the official Return Of Them vignette, farming on the side.

5. I like the fact that one of them is afraid of water and the other of fire. Adds an interesting dynamic.

6. They just work. Despite wanting to "DOMINATE ALL ORGANIC LIFE" WX-78 appreciates people who can stand up for themselves. I'd guess Wormwood would be a huge pushover at first, no doubt, but with their influence, he would certainly have to grow a spine (metaphorically speaking)

Likewise, WX-78 struggles to show kindness to non-robotic creatures, because they fear they might come off as WEAK and SENTIMENTAL. Things they loathe to expose about themself. Wormwood could help them show that it's okay to love organic friends and be nice to others! (sometimes at least.)

I'd say they balance out each other perfectly and that is quite rare to see in modern pairings. While they'd definitely struggle to get along at first, they'd surely grow fond of the other one day :)

I hope this convinced you. if not, I'll try and dig up some more stuff. Then again, keep in mind that there aren't many canon character interactions besides whatever crumbs we've got from their quotes and official animations.

#dst #wxwood #dst wx78 #dst wormwood #why you should ship them #hear me out!!! #they actually work great together

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97; a bit more of "congratulations, it's a metaweapon!" behind the cut.

“Beta!” Alpha snaps too, but Beta just disappears out the door without so much as glancing back at a single one of them. Match glances towards Superboy, wondering, again, what the hell she’s thinking. What she knows–or thinks she knows–that no one else here does. 

Maybe not no one else, Match thinks briefly, still looking at Superboy. 

Superboy still looks furious, is the thing, his fists clenched at his sides and TTK tangling his hair. Match doesn’t feel any trace of it coming out any further from him, but . . . 

The “nerves” comment is definitely still in his head. That comment, and how quick Beta was to head for the door. That’s all. 

Superboy isn’t on record as having done anything that violent before. It’s almost definitely a bluff. 

But it also seems like a very specific bluff, so maybe it’s not. 

“The project isn’t going anywhere,” Alpha says, glaring at the door Beta left through like it’s somehow the problem. “Spence, get Superboy either contained or dead. Subject Match, you–” 

“You’re not in charge of him!” Superboy barks, clenching his fists tighter. “And if you give him one more fucking order, I’ll make you fucking regret it!” 

“He is, in fact, in charge of me,” Match says in exasperation. Alpha and Gamma are a majority against Beta, so it’s not as if he’s going to ignore them just because she’s giving contrary orders to theirs. He is wary of why her orders are so contrary to theirs, but it’s not his place or position to wonder. Not his concern. 

“He is not,” Superboy says. “He's just a prick who thinks he can enslave you!” 

“It's not slavery if I don’t have free will,” Match reminds him dubiously. Superboy scowls at him and folds his arms. 

“Really, ‘cuz you sure sound like you’re picking who you wanna listen to right now,” he says. “Seems kinda ‘free will’ to me.” 

“I'm not picking. I'm only meant to listen to the Agenda's orders,” Match says, exasperated again. He was made to listen to the Agenda's orders. They made him to listen to them. There's not another option.

‘Don't be a brat about this,” Superboy says, his scowl darkening. “Or, I dunno, I'll ground you.” 

Match stares blankly at him. He cannot even fathom the logic behind that “threat”.

“I need a bigger gun,” Spence mutters. Match doesn’t point out the lack of functional weaponry in the room. It’s screamingly obvious, for one thing. He does wonder where Spence thinks she’s getting that “bigger gun”, though, and why Alpha didn’t order him to contain or kill Superboy. That would make more sense, given the weapons issue. 

Or it should, anyway. 

“Good luck with that,” Superboy says dubiously, then looks at Match again. “We’re going home now.” 

Match–pauses. Frowns. What the fuck does he mean, “home”? 

“Those aren’t my standing orders,” he says reflexively.

“Have you eaten?” Superboy asks, frowning back at him in–is that concern? That cannot be concern. Even Superboy cannot possibly be that stupid. “Did they feed you anything?”

It’s been about five minutes of actual consciousness and Match is already having the weirdest and most ridiculous existence that any metaweapon has ever had, he’s pretty certain. Actually, he’s definitely certain. What is wrong with this idiot? 

“This is idiotically off-topic,” he says. 

“Maybe we could get takeout or something on the way home,” Superboy says, frowning to himself now. “Do you know what anything tastes like yet? Is that a thing?” 

Match's standards for “weirdest and most ridiculous” are definitely being tested. 

“I wouldn't trust your assessment of my necessary caloric intake and nutrition if my entire existence depended on it,” he says dubiously. 

“Maybe we could get you a smoothie,” Superboy says, still frowning. “If you haven't had solid food yet, I mean. Probably be easier on your stomach or whatever. I was not smart enough to start with smoothies, it sucked.” 

Match stares blankly at him and strongly considers just killing him now, orders or not. Is this what existing is always like? Because this is stupid. Like . . . so, so stupid. 

He didn’t ask to exist, but he especially didn’t ask to be based off a fucking idiot. 

He’s seriously questioning the Agenda’s judgment in gene donors, at this point. Really, they didn’t have any better options for this project? 

Match finds that hard to believe and frankly he’d like to see the shortlist. 

Purely Kryptonian DNA is too complex for current human technology to reproduce, he knows, but they could’ve made him from . . . he doesn’t know, Supergirl, at least. She’s also a Kryptonian-based genetic experiment with very useful powers, and also telekinetic. And a shapeshifter with a berserker form and the capacity to turn invisible, on top of that. Those make for a much more useful powerset than just tactile telekinesis on its own, which is much more utility-based. He’d have been much more useful having been cloned from her. 

. . . not that Match would be any version of “himself” if he’d been cloned from her, obviously, just . . . 

That would’ve produced a better-suited clone for the project. That’s all. Obviously. So that’s what the Agenda should’ve done. 

Obviously. 

“It was whatever,” Superboy says, looking a little embarrassed. Match looks at Alpha and Gamma, really hoping to get the kill order already. That’s what he was made for, after all. He’s a weapon, not–“Anyway, I know better now, so I’ll make sure shit like that won’t happen to you, okay?” 

Match is not that, definitely. Not something that needs . . . whatever, exactly, Superboy seems to think he needs. He’s a superior specimen; an upgraded version. Superboy is just scrap DNA, now that he exists. 

He doesn’t understand why Superboy doesn’t understand that. 

It’s blatantly obvious to everyone else in this building, after all. 

. . . or Match thought it was, before Director Beta told him to leave with his “father”.

He still doesn’t understand why she did that. 

#dc match #superboy #kon el #conner kent #qwertynerd97 #wip: congratulations it's a metaweapon!

[www-brontide]

Hello, I'd like to request a comfort / fluff fanfic mainly with xiao but you can add other characters, but hopefully xiao

Gn!reader is insecure with their ability to fall in love with people because they feel as though their emotional qualities are lacking (feeling like they'd never be able to?) and because they're fearful, they end up avoiding xiao for some time but he manages to pick up on the avoidance but still is confused, so he tries to understand what's going on despite the inexperience

Gn!reader gets comforted but afraid, but xiao does his best to reassure them in his very xiao-like ways (confused at first on what to do, reluctantly patting gn!reader's head, ending up saying words that still sound quite in character but still comforting)

I think that would be nice, I hope that makes sense, thank you! Not forced

⊰ i could never choose to love another. 🎐「 xiao. hurt/comfort 」 dreamscape. emotionally insecure? that’s okay; that doesn’t mean your boyfriend will love you any less.

memory zone. self-esteem issues, emotional insecurity, implications of past ‘i love you’s being a lie?, reader is scared, avoiding communication (at first), doubting feelings, angst, eventual comfort, xiao is trying his best as per usual. memokeeper musings. (nonnie do you have cameras set up in my room /j) this has been sitting in my inbox for almost two week im so sorry nonnie JAJFJGJKDH also how we likin the new format??? 🥹 @soleillunne!!

            It’s always been hard for you to identify feelings, much less express them outright. Well, the more complex ones that can’t be explained through one sentence alone. Perhaps after so long, the lines between ‘genuine’ and ‘fake’ started to blur, leaving but only a hollow trace of confusion. You weren’t sure when it started, for most of your past memories are hazy, at best.

            ‘I love you’s were always few and far between in your relationship with Xiao. That didn’t immediately signify that this was a loveless relationship— quite the contrary actually, but the man saves those three sacred words for moments of pure serenity, tranquility, and intimacy. 

            But as for you, well, it was a rather… perplexing situation, to say the least. In short, you were terrified. Terrified of the words ‘I love you’ ending up being yet another fabrication of your emotions, as it had once been in the past long before you met him. And if it was… you’d never be able to forgive yourself; Xiao loves you honestly and earnestly, and to realize that you hadn’t been genuine with how you feel would be devastating for him and for you.

            …You couldn’t take that risk; in your eyes, Xiao deserved so much better. So, in order to protect him from yourself, you had to push him away, before you could get the chance to hurt him more than he already is. Was it truly the right decision, though…?

            Now you’d been visiting Wangshu Inn less and less, and interaction between the two of you was scarce— normally, Xiao would’ve understood; you had your own matters to attend to just as he does, after all. But this time felt different. Off. It felt like… like it was done deliberately. Had he done something to upset you? He didn’t think that was it, Xiao was always making an effort to be mindful and considerate around you.

            Were you in a bad mood? He recalled that there are times where you’d avoid interaction when angered or when the people around you pushed you too far; but in the end, you still confided in him about the source of your irritation and frustration after awhile. Xiao was not a particular expert in comforting others, but he knew how to listen.

            More questions led to more logical conclusions that didn’t quite explain your recent apparent avoidance. You were completely fine around your circle of friends, so why was it only him that you avoided like the plague? Is he doing something wrong or was there something wrong with him? Were you… getting tired of him, distancing yourself from him until it grows far too wide? Did you realize that he wasn’t the most optimal choice of partner…? Was this really it?

            ‘…No. Cease making your worries grow by the second. Pull yourself together. Confront them.’ Xiao internally berated himself and attempted to shake off that invasive way of thinking, but the thoughts still lingered in the back of his mind. If… If there was truly a chance you no longer wanted this relationship… at least you’d be able to communicate.

            “X—Xiao!?”

            Sharp amber eyes looked into yours, hands on both sides of your head resting on the wall behind you, leaving little room to escape. Xiao had affectively trapped you between him and the wall. Now, he would thought of other methods to confront you, but you slithered away from his grasp each time with nothing but a shallow excuse, so you really left him no other choice.

            “You have been avoiding me. Not anyone else, not your friends, but I, your partner. Why?” His gaze softened, tilting his head slightly as his eyes peered into yours. He didn’t want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable in this current situation; that’s the last thing Xiao wants for you.

            “I— I’ve just been—” “Do not lie to me. Do not hit me with the ‘busy’ excuse; it will work no longer,” He promptly cut you off. Xiao’s tone came off a tad sharper than he’d like when speaking to you, but he needed to get his point across. When he was met with no response from you, he sighed softly; “am I… doing something wrong? I told you to inform me beforehand if I am, no? So… tell me, please.”

            “No, no! It’s not you— there’s nothing wrong with you, Xiao,” That ‘please’ caught you off-guard, to say the very least; “it’s… me.”

            Xiao, at first, was relieved to know that he hadn’t hurt you enough in some form to warrant you avoiding his presence. He straightened his posture a little more as his hands slid down the wall, stopping just above your shoulders. At those last two words, he raised a confused brow; “You? Please elaborate.”

            You were hesitant, but it wasn’t fair to keep Xiao in the dark after he bore his heart open to you, and only you. No one else. So, with too much to lose, you did the same. From how you felt emotionally inadequate, to the fear you felt of your love being but a measly fabrication of your mind to trick your heart. In the safe confines of your bedroom, you poured your heart out to him.

            Xiao listened intently, feelings of guilt creeping up his own heart — he should’ve noticed this sooner — but never did he once interrupt. No matter how much his heart ached. Because despite how it was hard for him to hear this, he understood that it was even harder for you to say. By the end of it, you two were seated on your bed, and once you were finished explaining, his hand slowly moved to intertwine itself with yours.

            His other hand gently pulled you in closed in a half-hug, your head resting on his shoulder. “…Is this okay?” You nodded. Even after all this time, he still asks for your consent whenever he is the initiating physical contact instead of the other way around.

            “I… sincerely apologize for not realizing how you feel. I am unsure if you have noticed, but I have. I have always felt your love each and every moment that we spend with one another. It is raw, unconditional, real, genuine. That is just a fact that has been made known to me for so long. Therefore, even though you may think that I deserve better, I truly do not share that sentiment; you are the one for me. I could never choose to love another.”

© www-brontide 2024 — do not steal, plagiarize, or repost onto another platform without my explicit permission.

#( memory bubble ) #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader comfort #xiao x reader fluff #xiao fluff #xiao comfort #xiao angst #hurt/comfort #genshin comfort #genshin impact xiao #xiao gi #xiao x you #xiao x y/n