#stabs rambles

[stabthroughme]

I think Damian should end up adopting the various pigeons of Gotham.

Like they were literally bred to be domesticated pets/working animals in the case of messenger pigeons. Here's some thoughts about it:

Damian started out with one particular pigeon who had a nicked wing and couldn't fly away from a confrontation with the villain of the week. He probably saw domesticated pigeons/messengers in the league (an animal subtle enough to carry a small message/drop and found in virtually every city in the world) and we know he's soft for injured/abandoned animals.

He takes the birb in and helps it heal and tries to check it over for various signs of ownership. He finds none, brings it into the vet (who is Very Familiar with Damian and his pets) thinking that they'd know how to find the owners and that's how he finds out that pigeons were cast out by society at large after being a point of pride for centuries.

The bird likes Damian and Damian leaves his window open (even in winter) for it to visit after it's all healed up. Damian purchases some ownership bands and pays the license fee out of his allowance to make sure the bird will be okay.

Birdy 1 comes back to the manor at least once a week and occasionally finds Damian on patrol with others, Damian decides to name it Lancelot (loyal friend, plus he just started reading Arthurian legends).

Lancelot starts showing up with it's broodmate and Damian names the broodmate Guinevere, bands and registers her and then their hatchlings who he helps hand-raise from his windowsill (where they built their nest)

He names every single pigeon that starts showing up on patrols after Arthurian legend characters (he runs out fairly quickly) and registers all of them.

Eventually it raises some red flags about possible illegal breeding operations and Jim ends up having to investigate and its literally the first time any of the bats are made aware of Damian's growing pigeon army.

Gordon of course goes back with a "he's a rich kid who loves animals and got incredibly passionate about how horrible it is that humanity turned our backs on such wonderful creatures." The thing under a sheet on his desk coos and the person he's talking to asks what it is.

Damian guilted Gordon into adopting a lone pigeon who needs more care (bc not bonded to a mate or to the flock) and you know, Babs is out on her own now and Gordon's an empty nester and pigeons are really quite affectionate-

Jason also ends up with a pigeon. So does Tim. Dick avoids it because he refuses to move back to Gotham from Blud and Damian refuses to let any pigeons experience the uprooting he had.

Anyways I love pigeons and the idea that they're "dirty" is stupid and they deserve to be taken care of k bye.

[midnight-coffee94]

No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly

[shkika]

W1 design is done finally!!

W1 is both of the V models having combined themselves into one machine! Here are some notes on it! There's a lot to this fucker I think, but I'll do my best to cover what's most important.

Design notes:

More fragile areas are usually using V2's standard tougher plating. Main examples are the base of it's limbs, as the less of it's arm it potentially loses the better, it's head (which has 2 brains inside!), kneecaps and it's shooter arms, which are less powerful but made to handle guns and weaponry with more finesse.

Note! The knuckleblaster largely is off-colored, because it is a creation of V2's before their merge (she was not made with it). She made it before they combined. Has modified only it's hand after their merge (blue).

Big surface areas or places where blood often ends up use V1's plating. So like it's chest, forearms, punching fists and so on!

Their eye looks like that, because it's cool. and. 2 brains.

Their wings are a combination, because of limited resources. If it could use all of V2's it would as they are better protected.

Character/lore notes:

The V's do NOT fight for the body. Actually any disagreement on actions it must perform are VERY dangerous and scary they prioritize reaching a solution as FAST as possible.

Not functioning correctly can mean death. That being said differing opinions specifically are okay as long as they reach the same final conclusion on what to do. Nobody is panicking if they disagree on what their fave color is.

The two brains send requests incredibly fast between each other to operate the body. Both have full control over the body and must operate it together. This is a VERY processing heavy task and an inefficient one so it requires a lot of blood. It is a VERY hungry machine.

W1 combines before the events of the game! W1 would go through the events of the game in place of just V1.

[theangrycomet]

are you really ratchet's love interest if you don't have a sword?

It's a trend i hope to see continue.

[dioti]

robbing the princess of her personality and then watching her slowly degrade into a crudely drawn anime girl who keeps repeating "whatever makes you happy" because you kept asking about her own happiness (i.e. you kept doubting her autonomy) is one of the most profoundly fucked up things in this game

[bluerosefox]

Timelines, Red Robins, and Kings

When Tim Drake, who was tossed in the Pits after losing his spleen, suddenly crash lands in Clockworks Tower during Danny's Ghost King lessons, all the time keeper says with a 'I know more than you' smile "Ah, so it's this timeline being played out. How fun this will be. Danny, come. I have a new... friend for you to meet."

"CW...." Danny starts, staring unbelievable at his Ghost King mentor before sighing "Why are you like this?"

"Hush now my King. You will thank me later for the introduction between you both but for now summon forth Frostbite, we'll need his medical expertise for this one "

[ghost-proofbaby]

It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall. 

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?” 

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold. 

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him. 

Something unspoken. Something homely. 

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.” 

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion. 

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire. 

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?” 

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?” 

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room. 

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use. 

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him. 

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?” 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.” 

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.” 

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him. 

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm. 

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.” 

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch. 

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently. 

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back. 

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home. 

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-” 

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.” 

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.” 

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair. 

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient. 

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him. 

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you. 

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.” 

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?” 

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.” 

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum. 

You never grow tired of it. You never will. 

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always. 

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.” 

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-” 

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him. 

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.” 

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside. 

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly. 

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days. 

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso. 

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle. 

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.” 

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off. 

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep. 

I love you.

I adore you. 

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. 

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you. 

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?” 

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

[sensitiveheartless]

After drawing that pose study, I had this nagging feeling that I’d tried to draw something similar to it before — specifically, a purple/pink scene with one character leaning over another on a bed (and I distinctly remembered struggling so much that I abandoned the drawing partway through)

So I went looking through my files, and yup! It was from back in 2021, a little before I started posting on here. Comparison between then and now:

But yeh :D It’s cool what three years of practice and (very importantly) using reference can do — sometimes I can get impatient with myself when it comes to improving, so it’s fun to remind myself every now and then that I have been making progress, slowly but surely! Never give up never surrenderrr

[the-bi-space-ace]

Echo & Unshakeable Trust

If we really want to talk about how Echo and trust are intertwined then I think we need to start at The Bad Batch arc of The Clone Wars in season 7. We see pretty clearly that the batch doesn’t trust him, even before they know him. They make snide remarks, doubt him, and are ready to take him down if he crosses them. Hell, they’re sure he’s a traitor. One of the earliest examples of this is when Hunter first claims it’s a trap. He even says they’ll tag along with the mission even just to say ‘I told you so.’ Oh how wrong he was. How wrong they all were.

They venture into Skako to save Echo, following Rex’s intuition and going along with it even if they don’t agree. They go, they’re not trusting about it, but they go. What they find is Echo, being used as the algorithm for the Separatists. Rex has no reason to doubt that this is against Echo’s will but the batch… they’re not so sure. 

Echo’s plan to escape through the vents is what saves them from Wat Tambor. They have no choice but to follow his plan, even if they aren’t sure if they can trust him yet. But following along and going with it is what gets them out of there. That doesn’t mean it fixes the doubt. The batch even hesitates before walking across the pipe to escape. They’re still sure he’s screwing them over. They have no idea why Anakin and Rex follow Echo’s plans blindly, even when they’re objectively ridiculous. 

Rex trusts him. Always. Every time. When Rex hears Echo’s voice he doesn’t ever doubt that Echo is still alive and on their side. Even in the bad batch season 3 when he’s questioned about whether or not Crosshair gave them all of the information Rex doesn’t doubt that Echo handled it and they have no reason to question that. It’s such a beautiful thing to watch. His faith in Echo has always been unshakable. Just as unshakable as Echo’s faith in himself. At first Rex isn’t sure Echo is battle ready after being rescued; it's never about distrusting Echo, it’s about not being sure he’s ready yet. Has he healed enough? Is he stable enough to pull this off? It’s care, caution, not doubt. 

Echo even points that out: ‘I’m not a liability, Rex.’ Mace Windu really had me cheering when he says if Echo has a plan then he’d like to hear it. When Mace asks if Echo is certain he even responds with ‘Absolutely.’ Echo doesn’t doubt himself and he isn’t about to start now. This confidence is something we see from him a lot. From how he plans, how he moves, what he says. He knows he’s good at what he does. It’s so refreshing to watch him be so confident and grow in that confidence as time moves forward. 

It’s here we start to really see the batch mistrust Echo. Tech voices this most often, followed by Hunter. Tech isn’t sure of Echo’s plan. He even goes as far as to say that ‘We don’t really know where his loyalties lie.’ You know what’s incredible about this? Rex follows it up with ‘Well, I know.’ Because he does. He doesn’t doubt Echo, has no reason to. The batch, however, isn’t ready for that yet. 

When Echo sends all the droids to the assembly complex and successfully shuts them all down is when both Hunter and Tech - the two who were the most vocal about their doubt in him - are ready to accept that Echo is on their side. He isn’t fighting against them, he never has been. They’re ready. Echo has proven himself without ever even really trying to.

Echo: ‘Was there ever any doubt?’ Tech: ‘Some.’

Echo trusts himself totally. He’s been trusted by his squads, by Fives, by Rex, by Cody. Hell, even Anakin, Mace, and Obi-Wan trust him. He’s been surrounded by people who are convinced of his skills. Being confronted by the batch who doesn’t trust him doesn’t even really faze him. He knows his intentions, he doesn’t need to fight their doubt. He just does what he’s always done and he proves himself in his actions. This confidence he has in himself is what carries him through everything and we only see that grow over time. (This post by @phantom-of-the-501st demonstrates how much he’s grown perfectly. Please go read it. It's amazing.) 

The batch saw him in action when they first met him, they had their time to doubt, and once Echo had proven to them that he was trustworthy and skilled they’ve trusted him fully ever since then. Hunter trusts him to be his second in command - the mission where they save Gregor comes to mind. He always hears Echo out and usually follows him into nearly certain death even if he doesn’t agree. Hunter trusts his word and he knows he wants only good things for them even when they don’t agree on how to get those good things. I think it’s especially important to note that they do disagree often but that is never cause to accuse the other of something in bad faith. The batch even trusts him to lead them into Kamino, right into enemy territory, when Hunter gets taken at the end of season 1. They follow his lead, listen to him, and know he’s got this. They’d never doubt him. Not for a second. Not now. Not when it’s Echo.

And of course we have this most recent episode, the thing that spurred this all on for me. This episode only solidifies for me that trust is a main thread in Echo’s story. He gets them a ship, has a disguise for Rampart, and he is ready to take on the brunt of their mission when things start to get dicey. Crosshair does say something about how Echo can’t infiltrate the ship alone which I am certain is more about worrying for him than it is doubt in his skillset. Letting Echo go into enemy territory without anyone else is difficult for them but they know he can do it. They always know he can pull it off, even if it’s absolutely ridiculous. When Rampart starts to bad mouth the plan Crosshair is right there with ‘Relax. Echo’s on it.’ I am still absolutely losing it over this line. To see Crosshair go from ‘besides, he’s just a reg’ to his hand on Echo’s shoulder in their first mission after they meet to ‘relax. Echo’s on it.’ That… That makes me so emotional. Of course the plan will work. It’s Echo. He’s got this. He knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s quick on his feet. It’ll work out. It’s Echo.

To follow that line with Hunter’s ‘Echo will come through. He just needs more time.’ just further solidifies that they wouldn’t doubt him, not anymore. He’s proved time and time again that he’s got this. They’re prepared to go with whatever scheme he proposes. He’s just as bad as them but he’s also got the skillset to back up his chaos. He fits in well. 

Echo is a skilled man. He’s an excellent strategist and he gets shit done. The batch has learned to trust him with their lives, as quickly and as unshakable as Rex’s faith in him. I think this is a beautiful thing to have seen over the course of our time with the batch. The batch puts their lives in Echo’s hands more than once and they don’t doubt him. Just like how he doesn’t doubt himself. The people around him trust him because he owns what he says, because he can back his shit up. 

It’s rather fitting that the intro quote in the last episode of The Bad Batch arc in The Clone Wars (S7 E4 Unfinished Business) is: Trust placed in another is trust earned. They learned a lot by watching Rex’s unshakeable faith in Echo and they knew that’s something they could do too by the end of their mission together. He proved his chaos, his strategies, and his intellect were invaluable. So much so that they wanted him with them, whatever that was going to look like. 

[littlefankingdom]

~ Batman (2016)

I can't take seriously the "Nobody dies, not after Tim" after his brothers said they all died and came back. He will be back, it's the family tradition at this point, relax. Duke, you're next. See it as a vacation. Also, they joke so much about dying, having died and killing each others for people who died, you know their father is not finding it funny.

Another moment that demonstrates that the missions ISN'T more important than his family and loved ones for Bruce. It's more important to have them all alive and safe than to protect Gotham.

"Ignoring Batman's pretty much the definition of being a Robin." And you think Bruce would learn...

Bruce is in a suicidal era again (it's explicitly told to the reader in this story and the one before), so he thinks he will die against Bane (I'm surprised he survives. He should be dead. The man isn't human) His boys, however, have total faith in their abilities as a family. The contrast in this scene between the warmth playfulness of the boys vs the cold seriousness of Bruce makes him look like an asshole, but he isn't one. He's a dead man walking and he knows it, not them. (Also, he thinks that saving Gotham Girl will provide Gotham with a hero better than him, and will protect his boys from dying again)

Damian commenting on Jason's hairline and Jason being worried he is losing hair is gold. I love it when they are just a silly family that fight crimes. ("Dick, look at my hair. It's fine, right? I'm killing you now, Damian. This is happening." "Many have tried. Many with much more hair." XD)

[underscoremoony]

Deadpool and Wolverine is the only rom-com I'll ever enjoy

[stabthroughme]

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

I've been brainrotting about babsteph non stop for weeks at this point and its @candywafercutie's fault. I have an outpouring of AUs and then they go and make pretty art and then the cycle starts all the fuck over again and basically I'm in sapphic rareship hell (i love it here tho so its great)

[blackholesun321]

Guys while hallucinating on my new meds, I came to the realization that Mihawk was out on the open seas as swordsman since he was a teenager maybe even younger…. Did he ever finish a normal education?

Scratch that did he even have a normal education? Does he know math? Can my guy tell me the quadratic formula? Like I think we all forget as individuals how much school taught us yes the school system is broken blah blah but guys we understand germ theory and how birds fly and chemistry and biology that people just 60 years ago wouldn’t have known and would have killed to know, like I’m sure he can write and I’m pretty sure he can read but does he know how the moon pulls the tide? Did he know the earth wasn’t flat until he saw a globe for the first time?

Have we as individuals been bamboozled by the stoic gothic refinement of luxury that Mihawk projects we completely overlooked they fact the guy probably doesn’t know salt is a rock? Like wanna bet he saw how cool the over the top refined gay goth was and just like tailored that too his vibe but he’s never actually read a classic in his life?

What I’m trying to get at is Shanks who grew up around some of the smartest people in the world who spoke multiple languages, one was a doctor and you know Rayliegh who definitely doubled as a quartermaster might have a higher education then Mihawk.

Like I think it would be funny if Shanks was the guy who read books on Philosophy and artistic historical movements throughout the world (cough to impress Mihawk cough) and Mihawk doesn’t know how fish breathe underwater and has never read anything higher the a YA novel. (Which are awesome books but talk about reading a book by its cover! Lol… I’ll see myself out.)

[the-one-who-lambs]

Narinder is such a chew toy to me because I want his trauma and the awful choices he continues to make to break him apart but I also want him to curl up next to the Lamb and see them look at him with such a soft and tender expression that he wonders how he deserves to be looked at that way. I need to make him fucking lose it and make him peel his face back with such primal rage into eye-spotted flaps with open wounds and exposed muscle so that every sin he's ever committed burns like lemon juice to his raw-cut flesh and make him scream curses so loudly with all the broken energy his overexerted lungs can muster that he nearly chokes up blood. But also I need to make him meow

[foldingfittedsheets]

I was gonna say I’m being so brave about going to the doctors alone today but I’m not. I’m dragging my feet and very anxious.

[nikoisme]

It's pretty fun imagining Jon and Arthur meeting, but I think that at its core, their relationship has every chance to go to shit.

So here you have Jon, who needs to feed off of people's traumas and fears. Now here you have John and Arthur, who have been through hell and back, and god knows that they have seen some things. Yeah, it's obvious that The Eye would have a field day with Arthur's statement - but that's the point. Because how long before Jon starts going too far? How long before he digs up Arthur's most painful memories, how long before he forces the truth out of both Arthur and John? How long before Arthur and John have to relive their worst periods in life over again? Jon can just Know things about each of them, and they are both pretty private about some memories and facts. And Jon could always swear not to know things about them, however I think John and Arthur would be pretty wary of him still. They just don't like being vulnerable so soon and so suddenly.

And on the other side, you have Arthur, who is so desperate to know things, and here's Jon who just fucking Knows. You gave him the possibility of finally knowing everything. He can finally know how to find the Black Stone, how to get Kayne to fuck off, how to save both him and John. He can know where Faroe is. That's a lot of power that can be used in the wrong way. For example, Arthur could know if John is lying. We know that Arthur and John's relationship relies heavily on trust and opening up when they are ready, at their own pace. And yes, they could both swear not to demand Jon to spill the secrets. They have reached a point where they are capable of keeping that promise, as they have grown much, much closer. But the temptation would be there. How long before one gave in to it? Maybe it wouldn't be out of malice or curiosity. What if it simply slips out of Jon's mouth one time, and they find out something that wasn't meant to be said just yet? And it's pretty known that arguments between John and Arthur escalate really fast. So that presence of knowledge, when they are built on trust in each other, would not be so good.

So this is a pretty negative outcome. Obviously, none of this would ever have to happen if enough trust is built - i think they are capable of that. And that's what makes them so compelling to me. They would need to learn to trust themselves as well as each other in order to work out.