#im never going to go over them ever again

[periprose]

Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)

AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.

Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)

LGGA Masterlist

Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.

It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 

Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.

So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.

Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.

“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.

“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.

Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.

It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 

You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.

Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.

He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 

Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 

Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?

“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”

“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”

“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 

It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.

“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.

“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”

Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.

Not like that, though.

“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 

“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.

/

Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 

It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.

“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.

Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”

You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 

“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.

“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.

“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”

“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”

“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”

“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.

If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.

Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 

He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.

But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?

Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.

He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.

Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.

Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”

Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.

The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.

Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 

“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.

You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.

“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.

Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.

He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.

Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.

Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.

He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.

Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.

With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.

He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 

“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”

“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.

You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.

Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.

You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.

Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.

Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.

You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.

Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.

It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.

You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.

“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”

There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.

He feels better around you, too.

You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.

Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.

/

He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.

Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.

“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 

Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.

Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.

Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.

It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.

It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.

“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.

“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”

“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.

You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.

You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.

“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.

/

When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.

He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.

[diminuel]

Angsty headcanon: even in the AU where they stay together 5ever and raise ASL together, I think prior to Luffy’s birth or very early on (way too young for Luffy to remember) Crocodile and Dragon have a REALLY nasty breakup. They get back together, less than a year apart, Crocodile moves on from it completely. Would tell you (or a therapist forcing it out of him) that the breakup was just the result of flared up and immature emotions — a man too young and immature to handle a benign, routine, conflict as gracefully as he should have. It shouldnt have been a big deal and he’s thankful Dragon was so patient with him about it.

Dragon never quite gets over it, like a bone that doesn’t heal quite right and creaks when it rains. He takes *full* responsibility for the fight. He can’t let go to that core of guilt (he can only build around it, proving to himself and others this fight won’t ever happen again.) because deep down Dragon knows Crocodile was *right* even if he had never meant to hurt his Wani he still *had* he had *failed* them *deeply* and it *haunts* him.

In a terrible, terrible, series of moments of less self awareness and self control and self accountability than Dragon holds himself to now he let his upbringing get the better of him, let himself be *too* comfortable, too prideful in his own masculinity and strength, and thank the *gods* Wani snapped him out of it, rightfully punished him for it in their absence. The love of his life’s manhood just starting to blossom and he had stomped on it again and again out of sheer *instinct*. Wani didn’t have the words for it. Didn’t know where this was coming from, other than it was a sign of gross disrespect. But Dragon knew immediately he was miming the way Garp had *always* treated him and it disgusts and terrifies him.

For the first time in years he is around a man who he knows could not *easily* kill him and his instinct was to assert his own dominance *and he didn’t even notice until it’s gotten so bad Wani is threatening to walk out of his life forever*

When Wani comes back he does take the opportunity to tease Dragon about it a little a la “you better not think im less of a man for birthing *your* child” and it always brings a deeply sincere apologetic side out of Dragon. (Wani missed his big marshmellow boyfriend too of course. The reminder he cares just helps the initial remaining soreness)

Ooooh. Thank you for feeding my need for angst.

I can see that happening. Dragon does have a side to him that is quite harsh, which we see a couple of times when he's interacting with other members of the RA, even Iva and Kuma.

It might just be that he initially struggles with Crocodile figuring out his sense of self and not taking a pretty straightforward path towards being a manly man. (Crocodile maybe wouldn't adopt some of the rather stupid ideas about masculinity that we sometimes see characters exhibit in One Piece.)

Maybe he's thinks he's helping him out by being rough and belittling because that's how he learnt it - with Garp's though love that is never gentle and also in the marines that might not have allowed for self-expression that defied certain expectations of manliness.

Maybe he's reacting to any small challenge to his authority rather negatively even though Crocodile has always been someone who would stick his fingers into the gaps of Dragon's persona and see how much he can push his boundaries. And that was okay before, but now he would just very much like to keep his boundaries intact, thank you. He is barely holding it together anyway!

Because maybe his attitude might also just be a sign of stress because Dragon doesn't quite know how to deal with juggling multiple roles. Especially fatherhood. It's very likely that he never expected that, that he's torn about it and maybe even thinks that they should let Garp handle it. And Crocodile pushes back. Even though they maybe initially agreed that it's the best choice for Crocodile ambitions and for Dragon's goals?

Hm hm hm, much to consider! ♥

But yes, I can totally see Crocodile fully moving on, with maybe some teasing. And Dragon just doesn't get over it properly because he feels so bad about it. ;w;

[inkspottie]

going as anon today because i think half of your followers have already gotten to know me way too well from all of the drawings i keep sending, but even if it’s probably too much to ask, i would literally DIE for a small 50-60 word max snippet of what was going through Eve’s head when she saw into Gabriels memories while she was trying to make him and Anzu look at her and found memories of human Seb

like i’m literally flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water

spottie i will buy you a goddamm crown with your name engraved on it just pLEASEEEEEE IM DYING OVER HERE

Eve was a brilliant creature. A being yanked from the animal world and brought into a new consciousness. Ascending from her plane of existence, feeling, thinking. She had emotions, thoughts, worries.

With all that she had, she still couldn’t understand. Her mind was constantly changing, she couldn’t keep up with the things these humans continued to do to her.

Just a simple shark now having the ability to peer into one’s mind, being able to destroy you from the inside and out.

After the escape, she thought about leaving. Her instincts beckoned her to do so, but then again these new thoughts. These new ideas told her something else, that she had family. That she had a pup. Someone to take care of.

She could not be the way a human saw a mother, but she could be the support he needed. Sebastian. The creature who released her, helped her, and in turn she helped him.

“Keep them away from the crystal.” He had said, he needed time and she was happy to give it. These expendables were trying to get to it, and she would prevent them.

And she had a little friend to help. Painter. Yet another victim of this horrible facility. While he was organic, he was not. A machine. Who thought and felt just like she did.

He had access to doors, often shutting them so Eve could come in and kill whoever was trapped.

It was a fun little game they had. Never speaking but enjoying each others company.

This was supposed to be no different. Three victims, three new bodies. One was already peering into her eyes, but the other they were resisting. Eventually she would be able to get them.

She extends her powers, tendrils reaching and grasping through the folds of their mind. Finding family, mothers, sisters, brothers anything that would coax them to look. Whispering words of encouragement.

A mother, a sister…and then…someone. Someone familiar.

Gabe. The voice whispers. A familiar voice. One she recognizes.

This causes her to stutter, digging deeper into this stranger’s mind. Flashes of images hit her, seeing a face that is so familiar that it nearly sends her flying back into her own head.

Sebastian.

Human Sebastian, one she only seen when soothing the wounds of her pup, her child. Mere glimpses of what he was. This man knew him. This man called for him. Begging for mercy.

This was new to her, and for a moment she falters. Panicked and trembling she pulls away, darting off to find a spot where she could think.

Now this…this complicated things much more than she ever could imagine.

She must tell Sebastian.

[bitterbutblue]

COUGH COUGH NEEDING IDEAS??

AM I SUMMONED???

anonymous letters from Robin. she never goes out of anonymous since she doesn’t do this often and doesn’t know how you would think.

then the next day she approaches you, asking about what secret letter you have in hand like she didn’t sneak those into your bag herself :3

Bonus if you tell her anonymous letters aren’t really your thing then just never read it LMFAO

Anyways just need to go back to doing work 🤧

~ 🍷

~ omg we're going back to the LOSER ROBIN AGENDA guys .. in my head the most loser coded IN SECRET is robin (mostly because i love her and im very much attracted to loser coded women even though i am one myself)

making this a high school/college au :] ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⤷ she thinks she's being soooo slick

⤷ robin is your typical popular girl- gorgeous looks and incredible smile and the kindest soul you've ever met. every guy thinks they have a chance with her, and she just laughs at them because we all know what she is

⤷ one day, she sits down next to you in the lecture hall for some fucking reason and you're just like. Okay? Um. Wow.

⤷ You did not focus that entire lecture btw u were focusing on trying to act normal and okay and totally not freaking out that your long term crush was sitting next to you in all her glory

⤷ that evening back at your dorm, you found an odd letter in your bag. no sender name, nothing. just a blank envelope.

⤷ lowkey creeped out so you threw it out

⤷the next day however...

You really didn't expect her to sit next to you again- you spent all of last night rationalising to yourself WHY she would choose to sit next to you of all people. The lecture hall had been quite full at that point, maybe that's why she sat next to you? Maybe her friends just didn't want to go to the 9am lecture, that also made sense. Yeah. That's probably why.

Throwing your bag down on the ground as you collapse into the uncomfortable lecture hall chairs, you sigh in exhaustion. These 9am lectures were really starting to get to you and you're struggling to keep your eyes open as you take a drink of your coffee.

"Hey."

You look up tiredly, only to widen your eyes in shock when you see Robin, once again, standing next to you.

"Can I sit here?"

She sounds awfully nervous, barely looking at you and you just nod in confusion and she smiles at you and you want to squeal. She sits down, body tense as she awkwardly pulls out her iPad and whatever else she needs for the lecture. You wonder why she's acting so off.

"Everything okay?"

Robin freezes, a light pink dusting her cheek as she nods awkwardly.

"Splendid. I mean- I meant great, who says splendid anymore... Jesus..."

You just eye her oddly as she turns redder, mumbling awkwardly to herself.

The entire lecture was the most awkward experience of your life. Robin would not stop side eyeing you and a part of you began to panic- did she find out about your crush on her? Is that why she's acting so weird around you? But why the fuck is she still sitting next to you then? Oh god, you need to avoid her forever from now on. The second the lecture ended, you ran out of that damned hall before Robin even had a chance to open her mouth, your bag already packed 5 minutes before the professor even ended. You missed the way she stares dejectedly at you, a crushed look in her eyes.

She thought you read her letter and hated her.

You thought she found out you were in love with her.

Robin refused for you to end things like that though. In the middle of the goddamn fucking night, as you were studying, a knock on your door.

"What the fuck..." You mumble tiredly, throwing down your pen and walking over to the door to check through the peephole whoever the fuck it would be bothering you at night "March, if it's you I-"

The rest of the sentence dies in your throat, throwing open the door frantically.

"Robin!?"

There she stood, eyes red from tears, sniffling as she hugs her jacket close to her body.

"What the fuck- it's almost 12am! What are you doing?"

"If you don't feel the same way, why don't you just tell me!"

"What??"

You take her hand, pulling you into her room and you miss the way her cheeks flush at the contact and her wings flutter slightly as you slam the door shut.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you don't like me that way, you should just tell me instead of hiding like a coward!" She sniffles

What.

You stare at her, eyes wide and mouth agape and in other circumstances, Robin would've probably laughed.

"What?"

"Don't act dense!"

"What are you talking about??"

Robin groans in frustration, angrily wiping her tears away.

"The letter!"

"Huh?"

"The- what? Did you not read it?" Robin's angry gaze falters when she takes in the full extent of your confusion, and you tilt your head to the side like a lost puppy.

"Wh- that was you??"

"You didn't READ IT?"

"Why would I read a letter addressed to no one."

You two just kind of stare at each other, uncomfortable silence filling the room as Robin begins to flush from embarrassment.

"Wait, so why were you acting weird when the lecture ended?"

Now it was your turn to flush from embarrassment.

"Don't change the subject! What was so important about that letter?"

"You're literally changing the subject as we speak- why were you acting so fucking weird?"

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms in frustration as you awkwardly stared to the side.

Fuck it.

"I thought you found out I had a crush on you and that's why you were acting so weird and awkward around me this morning I'm really sorry we never have to talk about this ever again." You say in one breath as you stare down at your shoes, mumbling quietly.

Silence. She's probably going to storm off any minute now, she'll tell everyone you're a weird lesbian freak, and-

You gasp when you feel a tug down on your collar, and before you know it she has her lips on yours and her hand on your cheek. You sort of just stand there at first, frozen and not knowing what to do.

"Oh no, was that too much? I'm sorry-"

"Huh..."

You just stare at her, dazed as you move your hand up to gently touch your lips and Robin practically melts on the spot.

"I like you too, you dumbass. You would've known if you didn't throw the letter away! Why would you throw a letter away, what if it was something important like-"

"Can you kiss me again?"

That managed to shut Robin up as she turns red again, a shy look forming on her face before stepping close to you, tiptoeing slightly as she places a hand on the back of your neck before kissing you softly and in that moment you really regretted throwing the stupid letter away- but hey, she's kissing you and you're smiling like a kid in a candy store. Can't complain.

[corysmiles]

would you ever consider writing bg3 g/t fearplay from the tiny’s perspective? maybe gale or wyll? im a sucker for characters that aren’t intimidating or scary being seen as terrifying from the tiny’s perspective.

YES ABSOLUTELY!!

Here is Gale fear play as a treat, Wyll will come soon >:)

——————————————————

Tav was used to being around the wizard.

It was only about a week into the whole tadpole predicament when Tav was noticed by the much larger people at the camp, and Gale had been one of the first in support of keeping the tiny with them. They’d been terrified of the group at the time, but the tadpole in their brain still called to the gigantic figures. And as scary as some of the giants were, they were all relatively careful and kind…aside from the vampire of course. Although even his teasing got better eventually.

Gale, however, was easily one of the least intimidating giants Tav had ever met.

The man never held them without permission and almost all conversations with him led to some discussion of magic or what it was like to be so small. He was curious to his core, and while he was fascinated by Tav’s stature, he was never disrespectful.

All in all, being scared of Gale, the most gentle giant they’d ever met, seemed like a ridiculous if not impossible notion.

That was, until they remembered how strong he truly was compared to them.

It was late at night when goblins snuck into their camp. Astarion noticed first, jumping up from his trance to alert the others. Tav barely had time to wipe the sleep from their eyes before they were harshly grabbed, warm skin squeezing tightly around them.

“Hey wait,” Tav yelled as they tried to push their way free, but the hand just grabbed tighter, making it hard to breath and causing theirs limbs to ache.

They tried to get their bearings, taking a gasping breath as they managed to push their head free, “Fucking hells, let me go!”

But the hand only wrapped around them tighter, squeezing their chest painfully causing a sharp pain in their lungs. They fought as hard as they could but it was no use, and after a few seconds of being crushed they were haphazardly thrown into something dark. A pocket…

All around them they heard yells and movement as the fabric twisted around them uncomfortably, but no matter how much they yelled they didn’t get a response. They twisted to try to orient themselves but every time they managed to sit up they were knocked back down again.

It felt like hours before it finally stopped, and Tav was shaking head to toe. The sounds around them died down as the person keeping them captive stopped moving so frantically. It was over.

“Hells…” a familiar loud voice exhaled from above them as a hand reached down to them…the same hand that not too long before had squeezed them so tight they feared they’d pop.

Instinctively they winced and flinched away, trying to avoid the grasping fingers. However, there wasn’t much they could do against someone so much larger than themselves. They kicked and scratched as the tight grip wrapped around them, gentler this time.

When they were pulled out into the light of the camp they were met with a familiar face- Gale, bloodied and breathing hard. And although the sight of him was usually a much wanted comfort, Tav’s lungs froze in their chest.

“My apologies for grabbing you earlier,” Gale started with an apologetic smile, “There was quite a bit of panic.”

Tav tried to process the man’s words, but their whole body was frozen. They felt like they were stuck in glue, and all they could move was their eyes.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked in concern, his brows furrowed together.

Tav wanted to respond, they really did, but it was like they had no control over their own body. Their mouth felt dry and their brain screamed at them to run.

Before they could even process it they had bolted upright and dashed to try to jump out of Gale’s hand. But the human was faster. Before Tav could get away the fingers closed over top of them. They yelped and covered their head with their arms, anticipating the moment he would crush them, but it never came.

“Woah there settle down,” Gale said in a hushed voice, “Are you alright? I apologize if I startled you earlier, but I didn’t want one of the goblins to find you first.”

Tav just shook in his closed fist, anxious to get away from the man. In the back of their head they knew Gale was safe, but at the moment, a much larger part of them felt like a cornered animal facing off against a wolf.

“I…” Gale paused, “I’m sorry, if I scared you. I promise it wasn’t my intention.”

As he said it he slowly opened his hand revealing to the shell-shocked tiny that they were now in the man’s tent. They were carefully placed down on one of the many pillows the wizard kept before the giant man backed away, hands up in reassurance.

“I won’t touch you again,” Gale frowned, “I promise. But I need you to breathe.”

Tav’s breaths still came in panicked gasps as they stared up at the giant man. They retreated back into the soft pillow as much as they could, and waited, eyes piercing into Gale’s own. The wizard seemed lost in thought for a moment as he studied the tiny’s reactions.

“Did I hurt you?” Gale asked after a moment, voice cautious and low.

It took a few seconds for Tav to build up the courage to respond, but when they did their voice was barely audible.

“It was…it was too tight.”

Immediately, Gale’s eyes widened in a flash of recognition. He took a step forward towards the tiny as if to comfort them, but paused when he saw their tiny form freeze.

“I…I’m quite sorry,” Gale mumbled, “I…fuck…I know what’s done is done, but I truly did not intend to bring you any harm…I admit I could have been more cautious but I suppose I wasn’t thinking.”

Tav watched as the man visibly shrunk in on himself; they could see the tightness in his stance like a band ready to snap.

“You can sleep somewhere else tonight,” Gale says again softly after a minute of silence, “You don’t have to stay in my tent, I’d understand.”

Tav took a deep breath as their eyes met the wizard’s. In the back of their mind they realized they had never seen him so upset before.

“No,” Tav responded, barely above a whisper, “It’s…it was an accident. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this I just…it hurt.”

Gale swallowed nervously, his throat bobbing, “And I could never apologize enough for that.”

Tav nodded in response, their movements stiff as their brain finally slowed its constant stream of run, run, run. As the panic wore off, Tav finally started to relax into the pillow under them. Gale really did look devastated.

“I just suppose I forgot,” Tav said slowly, “You all are much larger than me, but I’ve become so used to it I forgot anything could ever go wrong.”

Gale nodded in response with a sigh, “And I forgot you’re much more delicate than you seem.”

An uncomfortable quiet filled the tent as the two both searched for something to say. And although Tav felt much calmer than they had moments before, a deep part of them still feared their giant friend.

“It’s not your fault,” Tav finally managed to get out through dry lips, “You were just trying to help.”

Gale frowned at that as he finally took a step forward to sit down on the ground. Now closer to the tiny’s level, his eyes searched them like he was looking for something.

“But I still hurt you,” Gale said.

Tav grimaced at the man’s words and nodded, “It’s okay, I forgive you just…please be more careful next time.”

Finally a soft smile spread across the giant’s face as he exhaled a long sigh, “You know I was quite hoping there wouldn’t have to be a next time.”

For the first time that night Tav felt themselves relax, truly relax. As much as it had scared them they knew Gale meant what he said. The wizard was still kind, after all.

Tav nodded in response as a yawn escaped their lips, “Well, I’m beat after all that. And you look like shit, so I think it’s bed time.”

Gale laughed softly and shook his head, “Yes I do believe so.”

Carefully, he pulled himself into his sleeping bag, making sure not to jostle the pillow Tav was laying on. His movements were still stiff, like he was nervous the tiny would try to flee again if he moved too fast, but neither chose to say anything about it.

The proximity to the giant felt less comforting than it had in previous nights, but as Gale’s breaths evened out Tav let themselves relax. He wouldn’t hurt them, not on purpose.

And even if they still flinched whenever he shifted in his sleep, in their heart they knew that fact was true.

[hijacked-victor]

anyone else have an existential crisis over your tags on reblogs?

like ive been organizing my tags for years and I'm like

for what?

[gorgynei]

i cant stop thinking about that final moment of eye contact vax must have had with keyleth. i.

[lucalicatteart]

A new sculpture! Finally... I feel like I never sculpt anymore since I'm always sick or have some 500 other things going on or projects to finish, but I'm trying to schedule time to do it more often this year hopefully..! Just a generic fantasy creature as usual, but did try making the eyes a little more sparkly this time.. hrmm..

[vaugarde]

havent seen this take in a while thankfully but it popped up in my head and i wanna post this anyways. i think everyone who talks about how siffrin “got off too easy” at the end of isat and his friends should have abandoned him should go read warrior cats if they want an example of a character using their trauma as their god-given jailbreak card to treat their family and peers (a good amount of whom who were completely innocent) like dogshit, and who faces zero consequences from the narrative for it (and in fact bends over to blame their peers). like read all the shit jayfeather does while the narrative sobs over how tragic but awesome and quirky he is and then look me in the eye and tell me siffrin’s ending was poorly written.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Just want to say: a, I admire very much that you've figured out a healthy way to work on your fics that allows you to have fun with it. And also b, am very excited to hear that you are getting there with pez! It has fully given me brain rot ever since I read it last year, there is just such a lack of content for the highly specific trope of using time travel as a device to explore extremely unhealthy levels of self loathing.

I just adore everything you're doing in it. Neither midoriya is anywhere approaching okay for any portion of the fic and I love rereading and mining into all the subtle characterization pointing to that. It's a bit like nhtycth in that some really goofy funny stuff is often hiding some really fucking worrying things, but the fact that characters DO do that stuff—that todoroki uses his teaspoon's worth of extremely stunted social skills to bludgeon his friend's door open and help him, that a rpf shipping war is an actual source of drama despite how goofy the sentiment seems on the surface, that about half of what jon says is deeply worrying and the other half is extremely funny and there's a lot of overlap between the two—really lifts the tension and brightens the universe. It's sort of similar to what you did with gerry, in that endless misery isn't nearly as painful as the ups and downs of a life that, when you step back and zoom out, has something deeply and horribly wrong with it.

(jon sort of reminds me of spider-man in that he uses human to deal with trauma and stress, except I don't think he at any point realizes how fucking funny he is. He's just there, in a home depot, gnashing his teeth because he's got so many bodies to dispose of and this cashier sure is taking her time.)

I really, really, really have had trouble finding fics that take everything midoriya has dealt with to task. It's a hell of a thing to live 14 years as a disabled minority, have it heavily shape your existence, and then one day you wake up and you realize you're...not that, or at least, nobody will ever acknowledge you as that again. You've lost all claim to it. Those experiences that shaped who you are? Dust in the wind. 14 years of pain and life might as well be buried in the ground for all the good they do you. Nobody's going to cut you any slack or quarter, you've gotta simply work harder, be better. And now when you do that you get the results you wanted, so that's fine, then. That's good. There was something wrong with the you before, and there's something right with the you now, and if the transition is a little rough, well that doesn't matter, you're the same as everyone else now, so it's your own job to fill in whatever gaps you need to.

I really can't get over how mentally fucked it must be for midoriya to run into quirkless people, run across quirkless issues, and be silently caught between, incapable of speaking his mind and too scared to do so anyway around those he can trust.

Also I should mention, I'm just very excited for bakugou to get back from the gym. He's been there like a year I hope he's getting a good workout in.

Me realizing that it’s been a year since pez dispenser debris:

I feel like there’s just this very specific type of grief that Izuku has to grapple with in the span of pez dispenser debris that I’m just obsessed with. He’s sort of silently mourning who he could have been, when 1) he has to present like there’s nothing lost to maintain his secret and 2) the entire world is constantly inundating him with the message that there was nothing lost.

Like. I don’t want to get too deep into it because it risks spoiling things and I do have major plans to continue it (I’ve loved this story for so many years before I ever even hit publish), but the emotion that Izuku’s feeling right now is so much more complex than “I hate who I used to be and want him to stop existing” or “I just want to keep my secrets.” And I think the way he interacts with Mirio is the biggest evidence of that.

Izuku’s placed himself at the very center of the Quirklessness debate with his support of Mirio. He fights for Quirkless heroes, very publicly, to the point where he’s not even graduated yet but considered to be one of the most prominent voices on the matter. If you took a poll of Quirkless people as to which hero would be most supportive of them pursing their own career in heroics, Izuku would be right at the top of the list. When it comes to Quirklessness itself, he’s nothing but supportive.

But he didn’t tell Mirio the truth of his own Quirklessness.

Out of everyone, Mirio’s the one everyone expects to know, despite him being a relatively newer relationship compared to someone like Iida or Uraraka or Todoroki. And I tried to imply that he’s sort of the one who knows the most about Izuku out of everyone save All Might.

Like, we’ll get into how much exactly Mirio knows soon, so I won’t divulge what, if anything, Izuku has told him. But we know that Mirio knows, weirdly enough, that Izuku is deeply fucking haunted. He knows that boy has many violent ghosts in his bones. He finds it hilarious and will tell their realtor about it. Izuku told him about the discontent spirits who died in a violent passion and live on inside of him before he told him about his Quirklessness.

And I just feel like one of those things is a little bit easier to discuss than the other.

Izuku has decided to keep his own Quirklessness quiet in a way that surpasses secrecy about One for All. If it was just about OfA, he could tell people he didn’t get his quirk until the entrance exam, and it wouldn’t even be a lie. He’s purposefully obscuring his own past as Quirkless even as he takes a forefront of the Quirkless hero debate with his open support of Mirio.

And the fact that he’s at the forefront of this debate in and of itself requires a difficult dichotomy. He is the world’s most vocal proponent for the first Quirkless hero. He is a known figure in the Quirkless community now.

He isn’t considered one of them anymore. He’s an outsider coming in.

It must be such a strange, odd sort of grief to come to the people you were home amongst for most of your life and be greeted as a stranger. To return home, and to be welcomed in for the first time, and to not even be able to tell people that you’ve lived here all your life and don’t need a tour.

It’s a sort of death of self, I think. And I think Izuku never expected to have to grapple with his own ghost.

[rudjedet]

Me and flips have not been friends ever since I landed on my head/neck during a double back when I was 18, so of course deciding to finally learn a front flip half twist is going to be good for me. Living by the whole "if I'm scared I'll do it scared" thing now, working out well for me so far.

[celestialecho]

🌦️&💤

on childhood best friends.

via ill give you the sun by jandy nelson // via the art of ponyo by hayao miyazaki // jack johnson, we're going to be friends // a message from my childhood best friend // mitski, i guess // via a little life by hanya yanagihara // adventure time, island song (come along with me) // via unknown // abba, chiquitita

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

i hate doing laundry ough it's The Worst

[redding]

thinking abt doomed friendships*.........pearlrick i care you

[txmxkis]

that was. transformative

[reel-fear]

MIKE BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER FOR ROASTING HIS DUMBASS RESPONSE TO THE GRAPHIC NOVEL STUFF!!

grown ass man scared of the 19-year-old queer being mean to him over his public meltdown more at 8.