#i get why its just it was so much easier to cope when it was a few months away and i could forget about it but now its so close i cant about

[usercelestial]

it was weirdly so much easier to cope with good omens coming out when it was a good few months away but for some reason 2 days feels like torture

[myrmica]

vitalasy going WHO IS INFLUENCING YOU ? DID YOU TALK TO MAPICC? as his immediate reaction to the zam betrayal and you can hardly even hear him say this because his mic cuts out is top 10 craziest eclipse moments to me

[autism-corner]

ive been jokingly thinking that i magically started producing more T myself bc ive got a bit more acne and got more horny etc. but my shoesize has increased two sizes since last and i have been generally more happy...... hm..

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl

[bumpkinspice0]

No One Knows the Trouble, Honey, That We've Been Through 1/3

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You're an X-Man... well, you used to be. You left years ago, and in the aftermath of an attack on X-Mansion, Charles has asked you back to help repair the damage to the estate. An easy job for an earthmover like yourself. Still, after years away from your old home, you feel like a stranger again. So much has changed and you're not sure where you fit in anymore. The newest X-Men member isn't helping your mood either. You're not sure where they found Logan, and you're still trying to figure out what to think of him. The mans barely said anything to you. He's not the typical stray Charles would take in, but then again, neither were you when he brought you here.

AN: Like everyone else, my Wolverine obsession has also re-awoken. So I made a quick little 3 part fic to cope with it. Let's see if I can rest now This leans into the movie-verse of the x-men (He's tall because Hugh Jackman is tall lol) but I think I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine it in whatever version of the x-men you like best. Warnings: Emotional baggage, fluff, angst, self-doubt, anger issues?, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, Logan is drunk babysitter, this is a little corny but I don't care, eventual smut

Series Masterlist

Part 2. Part 3

AO3 if you prefer to read there

_______

Stepping on the soil of the Xavier estate felt odd in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like standing on hallowed ground you’re unworthy of being on. Funny, years ago you only knew it as home. Now you’re just a stranger to the rocks beneath your feet. Still, Charles asked you back. He asked for your help.

The grounds around X-Mansion were unrecognizable.

They were decimated in this latest attack. Storm assured you all the children got out safely, thank god. The estate took all the damage. The house had been rebuilt but the surrounding lands were… rough. Ripped-up roots and protruding rocks where gardens and trees once stood. The walls of the mansion were now bare of its usual sprawling ivy, freshly reconstructed for probably the dozenth time in its life— another failed attack from another ignorant enemy. 

You look at the destroyed earth around you, the real reason you were here. This is why he called you.

Soil, dirt, and rocks were where your powers lie. You could move the earth itself, sense the minerals beneath your feet, see the world around you through the touch of stone. Dozer your friends called you when you first came here— short for Bulldozer . You always hated it but it’s unfortunately the name that stuck. Now it’s just… part of you.

You weren’t the best student. You were angry when you came here at the ripe age of 13 after a rather unconventional childhood. Things were done to you you could never forgive. In a lot of ways, you were still angry. Used by the people you should have trusted most. Seen as less than human. A tool. A mutant. 

And that’s when Charles found you.

The Professor took you in when he had no obligation to— and you fought every step of the way. You realize now it was your fear acting out rather than anger. Still, you were an X-Man… for a while. You thought you found your place. It was a good few years but you wanted more. You wanted to prove the world wrong. Be more than just a mutant. People always say a life well lived is always the best revenge. That’s what you wanted, a good life you forged for yourself despite the world's hatred towards you— and you left the X-Men behind to do it.

Once an x-man, always an x-man, Charles told you the day you left. Maybe some part of that was true, but you didn’t feel like an X-man anymore. It was your own fault, really.

Months and years rolled on and picking up the phone just got harder and harder. Dropping by to say hello started feeling intrusive. And eventually, it just became easier to do nothing at all. 

You stopped trying, but so did they. 

No, that’s not true. Jean tried. Storm tried. A letter or two every year. Missed calls that never got returned. You don’t know why you did it… or didn’t do it. Maybe you thought it would hurt less if you just tried to close the book on that chapter of your life. Be a new person. Something without the X-Men. They didn’t need you anyway. 

Really, it was probably that same fear from your teen years rearing its ugly head. Still that afraid, angry little girl. 

But Charles called, and you answered, and now you’re here. You’re here to help them get back up. 

You became a landscaper when you went off to make a name for yourself. Dirt was all you understood, as sad as that sounds. Still, it was work that made you happy. Funny how you left because you didn’t want your mutation to define you.

Charles treated it professionally like any other client would. The man didn’t expect charity and agreed to your usual fee plus an extra 50% to redo the escape tunnels under the mansion. 

I can’t pick my home up and move it, but I do my best to keep people guessing about its secrets, was Charles's reasoning. 

It was a big job. It would take you 2 weeks at least. Hopefully finishing up just in time for the returning students. You’d already been here 3 days and the emotional exhaustion was getting to you more than anything.

There was no ‘bad blood’ here. You were welcomed back with a chorus of cheers and endless hugs. It was… nice. Really nice. You did miss it here, you missed your old friends. Still, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disassociation stirring in your stomach. Yes, this was your home— your friends— but you’d alienated yourself. They’ve been nothing but kind to you and you still feel like a stranger because you left. You left and stopped trying and you’re refusing to try even now.

 Why was this all so scary?

You're reshaping the east garden beds when you feel eyes on you for the dozenth time today. You turn to see him standing there on the 4th-floor balcony, overlooking the decimated gardens. 

Logan . 

You only met him a few days ago. The newest member of the X-Men. The Wolverine. You’d heard rumors about him before. Tales of the rage, someone more animal than man. You’re amazed Charles took in someone like him, but then again he took you in too. 

You’d said less than 3 words to each other since you returned. When Scott introduced you he only gave a curt nod and lurked back into whatever corner he was occupying. 

You noticed he liked to stay on the sidelines. Silently occupy space without participating. He was always there when you turned around— like a shadow. He liked watching you work, you think. You could sense him lingering outside of the tunnel entrance you started in the basement the other day. This is the 4th time you’ve caught him lingering today.

You give him a casual flip of the bird. He retreats back inside as soon as your eyes connect with his. 

Fucking creep. 

“Dozer!” Storm’s voice pulls you from your unplanned staring contest. 

She and Jean step down into the rocky pit that was slowly starting to resemble a 3 tiered garden. You’d been working on the tunnels below the house since you got here, this was your first day outside. Even an Earthmover needed sunlight every once in a while. You couldn’t punch out your slew of confusing feelings in a dark hole in the ground forever. 

Of course they’d ambush you as soon as you stepped outside. 

“We have a surprise for you,” Jean announces proudly. 

“What— Why?” is all you manage to say. 

Idiot. 

“What do you mean why?” Storm doesn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and march you out of your pit. “Come on, it’s up at the garage.”

You let them drag you there, reminding yourself that these are your friends. The ones that kept trying to let you in and you’ve been an elusive bitch to since you got here. 

Try. Just try a little. They want you here. They do. 

You’re guided, presumably to the garage, by Storm while Jean diligently holds her hands in front of your eyes. 

“Please tell me it’s a new car,” You joke trying to lighten the mood. “My truck’s getting old.”

“Pfft, we don’t have that much money,” Jean nudges you slightly before you all come to a halt. She removes her hands. 

It’s not a car. It’s flowers. 

They’re absolutely beautiful. Hundreds of them in nursery trays laid out in front of the garage doors. Young blossoms but still vibrant with rainbows of color. 

Despite your connection with the Earth you never had power over plants, but felt a kinship with them in a way. Both beings that thrived in the dirt was your best guess as to why. You could sense them, feel them in your own way. Your dorm was a practical jungle when you lived here. Hell, your apartment today still was. 

A closer glance at the small garden reveals something more.

“It’s all your favorites,” Storm confirms, reaching down between the rows, “The ones we could remember at least. You had so many.”

She pulls out a bouquet, a small collection of the surrounding flowers. They must have made it themselves. Ororo hands it to you, her smile warm but her eyes sad in a way.

“Guys, I…” you choke out, pushing back the stinging tears. 

“Your thoughts are very loud,” Jean strokes your shoulder, “The gardens are yours. A reflection of you… for the rest of us. This is your home, you get to leave your mark on it.”

“We’re happy you’re back,” Storm joins Jean in front of you, “We’re happy you're home.”

Wordlessly, you collapse into the two of them. You’d make an ass out of yourself if you tried to talk right now anyway. 

Of course Jean knew how you were feeling. Of course Storm probably had the idea for this corny grand gesture. Of course, they missed you. They’re your oldest friends. Your sisters. 

You’re home. This is okay. It’s all going to be okay. 

__________

The sun has nearly set when you hear the garage door open from a distance, a fight echoing from inside. 

“Logan, be reasonable!” You recognize Scott’s aggravated voice.

“You’re a goddamn coward,” the wolverine growls back. Jean informed you this is a regular occurrence between the two of them. You’re not surprised. Logan seemed difficult, to say the least. 

You’re halfway up to the garage before you realize what you’re doing. What are you doing? Are you really going to try to break up a flight or just get a better spot for eavesdropping? There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine before you have time to decide. 

“ Logan! ” Scott shouts one last time before Logan peels out of the garage— right through the rows of your flowers that rested there. 

“HEY!” you shout after him. It’s no use, of course. He doesn’t bother to stop, already past the front gate by the time you reach the driveway. 

Scotts stands there alone at the edge of the garage, his hand on his visor… contemplating. 

“You’d have one witness if you're thinking about murder,” you make your presence known as you crouch down amongst the now mangled corpses of your garden. 

Asshole.

“Shit,” Scott's posture drops, almost embarrassed. His demeanor had changed so much from that young man you knew. The leader of the X-Men, he took himself so seriously now. It was cute in a way only Scott Summers could pull off. 

“What an asshole,” you rescue a box of untouched daisies. At least some of it was salvageable. 

“You have no idea,” Scott joins you, finding what flowers could be saved, “I’m sorry. He’s… difficult.”

“What were you fighting about?” you dare to ask, more to distract yourself than anything. 

Scott hesitates before he answers. 

“We were attacked by an offshoot of the Trask Institute. Extremists we didn’t even know existed. They came out of nowhere, and they’re still out there,” You see him scowl, silently scolding himself for not knowing more as a leader. He’d do the same thing in training.

The person who always put the most pressure on Scott was never The Professor. It was just Scott.

“Anyway,” he continues, “We don’t have an exact location, but Logan wants to hunt them down. Take ‘em out at the source, ya know?”

“And you don’t wanna do that?”

“We’ve taken enough hits right now.” He adds a bushel of ivy to your pile, “Best to wait until we have our feet back under us… or if they provoke us again.”

“Wouldn’t be good to be caught with your pants down again, though.” It’s not your place to question him anymore, but you do it anyway. 

“We’re monitoring them. They’re not a treat right now,” he lets out a deep sigh, shoulders dropping, “But that’s not good enough for Logan. He doesn’t plan. Just wants to go in guns blazing.”

“Ah, wild-west style.”

 “Like I said… he’s difficult .”

“That seems like a nice way of saying an absolute dick .” you attempt to lighten the mood and simultaneously quell the anger stirring in your stomach. He’d ruined your gift, your welcome home present— and he probably didn’t even notice. 

“He is a dick. A big one,” Scott scoffs, gaze lingering over the vegetative carnage, “I’m sorry he did this because of me…”

“Acts of random dickishness are not your fault, Summers.” 

Scott actually smiles at that one. 

“Did you like it at least? The flowers? The girls were so excited about it. We all wanted you to… never mind. You– you get it.”

You look at the mismatched rescues you’ve already gathered in your hands. Thank god you still had the bouquet in your room at least. 

“Yeah, Scott. I loved them.”

He gives a reassuring nod. Scott wasn’t much for words. That’s okay, you didn’t expect him to be. Yes, he’s the leader but there’s still so much of that quiet boy you see in him. 

“Logan will probably be gone for the night. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I’ll fix this, Doze.” Scott assures you, that leadership role dropping so easily into place. Charles made the right choice with him. 

“That’s okay, Scott. I’ll take care of it myself.”

__________

Scott was right, Logan doesn’t come back until the following afternoon. You’re on the mansion's north side with Charles, showing him your layout plans, when you hear the roar of that stupid bike again. 

“Sorry, Charles,” you quickly step away from your old mentor, “I have to handle something.” 

“I hope you won’t be ruining my grounds even further while you handle this,” Charles tuts disapprovingly, completely aware of Logan’s transgressions from the previous night. Being psychic, he was no doubt also completely aware of just how angry you were. Jean did say your thoughts are loud after all. Still, he lets you go without another word.

This guy had been nothing but a creep to you since you got here, stacking more anxiety on top of your already overflowing insecurities. Strutting around like he owned the place. Looking at you like a piece of meat. You’d seen too many men like him in your life. He needs to be knocked down a peg.

“Hey!” You have his attention as soon as he kills the engine. He rolls his eyes as he lazily tilts his head in your direction. 

“What, sweetheart?” his face is painted over with an arrogance that was just begging to be slapped off. 

You’ll happily oblige.

Kicking your heel into the dirt you send a wave through the ground. A small pillar of rock shoots up under the bike. It falls under the sudden jolt, and so does Logan along with it. The shock on his face was already worth it. 

“What the hell?!” He sneers as he crawls out from under the bike. 

“Why don’t you watch where you're driving next time, asshole,” You dare to take a step forward. He scrambles to his feet, a metallic ring following the movements. 

Ah, there they are— the infamous metal claws. Now these you’ve heard stories about.

“That is quite enough,” Charles rolls up behind you, “I will not have this boorish display of dominance on my property.” 

To his credit, Logan is the first one to drop his defenses. He sheaths his claws with an irritated shrug. 

“Don’t know what the hell I did for any of this crap,” He practically mumbles. You resist the urge to throw a pebble at his head. 

“You wrecked my garden!” You can practically feel the ground vibrating in your anger. 

Logan looks down at his feet, remnants of the flora he’d unknowingly destroyed still scattered across the dirt. 

“Hell of a place for a garden, toots,” he scoffs, kicking at the now withered flowers, “What you want an apology, then?”

You kick another small wave towards him. He catches himself on the shaking ground this time, only giving a scowl your way. 

“Enough!” Charles comes between you. “If you insist on behaving like children, then you will be treated like children.”

“He started it!” against your better judgment you mockingly point a finger at Logan. Charles only offers a disappointed shake of the head. 

Once a student, always a student. 

Charles addresses you first, “You have my permission to use school funds to purchase more garden supplies, and I apologize on behalf of my newest pupil since he seems to be incapable of doing it himself. They were a gift after all,” he turns to Logan, “And you will take her to get them.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

Both you and Logan protest at the same time. 

“If you insist on protesting then I’d like to remind you I can always make you do it in different ways,” It’s an empty threat, of course. One of his favorite tactics to use. You remember him making the same kind to you when you were a student. He sighs before making his way back inside the mansion, “I will not have more petty rivalries in this house at a time like this. See it done… Today.”

You’re left alone together, both staring down at your feet like scolded children. Well into your adulthood you’re still finding ways to disappoint Charles Xavier. You’re ashamed you let your anger get the better of you again. You thought you were past this. Better than this.

Logan may have been an ass, but he was an X-man too. A friend of your friends. You didn’t even give him a chance to fix this before you came barreling in fists first. Still, you don’t really regret it either…

Fine.

With a deep sigh, you’re the first to concede.

“I have a truck.”

Logan hesitates for a moment before finally looking you in the eye. 

“I’ll drive.”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

The drive to the Westchester Greenhouse was tense and completely silent. Now he’s following three paces behind you like a giant angry shadow. The sweet grandmas perusing the hydrangeas take one look at him looming behind you and change rows. It’s hilarious if you're being honest. You’d cooled down over the drive, you’re not entirely sure he has. Every step he takes is tense, you can feel it through the damp concrete floor.

You wonder if he’s aware of how intimidating he is. He has to be. That or he truly didn’t care. From what little you knew about this man it’s probably a bit of both.

“I don’t get why we’re here,” his gruff voice surprises you, “Can’t you just… grow more?”

“I can’t grow things,” you respond, placing a tray of tiger lilies in your cart, “Just move dirt.”

He hums and looks away in response. This was getting painful. If Charles insisted on sending you both out on this stupid little team-building exercise then you might as well try a little… for Charles.

“I can’t grow plants but I can… feel them.” You continue. 

To your surprise, he actually responds. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maybe ‘ I can kinda talk to pants’ isn’t the best icebreaker topic but it’s a start. You look around rows of greenery, your attention landing on a crudely drawn sign that reads ‘ Man-Eating Plants. ’ Perfect. Most basic nurseries never knew how to take care of carnivorous plants properly. 

“Here I’ll show you,” you walk over to the small section of venus fly traps. Your suspicions were correct. Brown-tipped leaves and shriveled black heads could be spotted on nearly every plant. They’d repotted them in all-purpose soil without a second thought.

“Don’t tell me you can talk to them.” Logan comes to stand next to you. 

“No, nothing like that. But look,” you point at the crisping leaves of one plant. “They’re over-fertilized. They get their nutrients from bugs, not the soil. They’re roots don’t like what’s in the dirt and I can… feel that. So then I talk to the dirt.” 

Logan raises an amused brow. You’re not entirely sure if it’s mocking or genuinely curious. 

“So whaddya do ‘bout that?” he probes. 

Curious it is. You take a quick glance around, making sure no one is close enough to see. Thankfully the massive scary man at your side and some towering majesty palms are enough cover for you. 

“We take out what they don’t like in the soil. And what’s soil and fertilizer but some specific minerals.”

You’d first gotten the idea when you’d heard Magneto could rip iron directly out of people's blood. If his powers could be so precise, why not yours? It took years to master. You practiced by dumping table salt on the yard and trying to only summon the granules to your hands.

Same concept here.

You hold your hand over the small carnivorous beasts, feeling the small pellets of fertilizer mixed into their soil. You can feel the specific minerals and separate them out. Steadily, tiny pellets hovered out of each pot in neat rows and gathered above your hand. Once gathered you clench your open palm into a fist, the pellets gathering into one solid rock the size of a golf ball. 

“There,” the mineral-dense rock drops into your hand, “Come back in a month and I guarantee these guys will be doing better.”

“Oh, I’m never coming back here,” despite the bitterness of his words, Logan says them with a smile. He’s teasing you. 

“Well then,” you turn to him and place the rock in his jacket’s breast pocket, “There, a little souvenir to remember your forced trip to the greenhouse for being a jerk.” 

You’re walking back to the cart before he has a chance to respond. The air feels lighter between the two of you now. You don’t like that you had to be the bigger person when he’s clearly been the one in the wrong but… it’s something, you guess. 

Your little demonstration reminds you that you need better-treated soil if you’re going to make these gardens work. The ground around the mansion was fine but they needed something ritcher to give the plants a good head start. You could mix the soil yourself from around the area but it was infinitely easier to get already prepared bags of it here. Just a few for the topsoil should be fine. Charles said this was all on him, after all. 

You stop in front of the stacked bags of various soil mixes. You reach for the general outdoor plant mix. Logan’s hand beats yours to the fuschia pink labeled bag, pulling it off the stack and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“How many?” he asks, emotionless. 

“Uh… let’s start with five?”

He grabs two more and effortlessly stacks them on his shoulder. He holds the other two in his free hand. He stands there holding over a hundred pounds of dirt like it’s nothing. 

“Okay, what next?”

The sun is starting to set when you make your way back to the manor. The air between the two of you is decidedly less tense but it’s still painfully silent. There was… progress made. You didn’t hate him anymore and hopefully he would treat your property with more care from now on. He tried, in the only way stoic men like him can. Not with words, but with small actions. Carrying bags of dirt for hours, shooing you away from loading the truck and doing it all himself, opening the car door for you. For some reason actually saying ‘sorry’ was always so much harder than just showing you he was sorry. 

You got it. Your father and brothers were the same. You wonder if he was a military man too. 

That doesn’t change the fact that you hadn’t apologized either. Yes, he’d wrong you first, but you provoked him without warning. Actions instead of just talking like an adult. Yeah, actions were always easy for people like you. 

And in your own fucked up little way, you’d made him the subject of your anxieties. He was new here, you’d made yourself an outcast. They all clearly adored him despite his rugged nature. Charles so clearly wanted to help this man who was too skittish to be helped. It reminded you of someone else…

You could extend the metaphorical olive branch. Offer something that resembled friendship. That’s why Charles sent you out here, but you’re going to do it your own way. 

Somewhere that holds a lot of memories is coming up on the right, and you could use a drink. The sudden turn off the road jolts Logan from his empty gazing out the window. 

“Jesus Christ, woman!” He reaches for the center console, shooting you a glare. You hold back a smile, “This isn’t the way back to the school.”

“We’re not going back to the school,” You pull into an all too familiar parking lot, a red neon sign already lit up reading ‘Stevie’s Bar ‘n’ Grill’ illuminates the windshield. You’d snuck over here at least a dozen times when you were in school.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“What?” He smirks with a raise of the eyebrow. He does that a lot, you've noticed.

“Look, I—” You take a breath and shift the car into park. You can do this, it’s just words, “I wasn’t fair. You did a shitty thing, yeah, but you didn’t know. And I came at you with no explanation.”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs jokingly, trying to lighten the mood you’ve suddenly soured. It works. You smile. 

“It’s… weird. Being back,” you’re grip on the wheel tightens ever so slightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but it’s weird coming back to a place you called home and feeling like a stranger. Despite everything your friends are saying, you just feel wrong there. I tried to take my insecurities out on you Logan. I’m sorry.”

The bloated silence that settles between the two of you doesn’t help, but you can’t blame him. What was he supposed to say after you just bared part of your soul? You’re not expecting an apology but it hurts a little when he hops out of the truck. You’re about to yell after him when he rounds the front and comes to your door. He opens it and leans in closer than you’d like. 

“How about I buy you a drink then?” There’s that stupid smirk of his again, “You said it yourself, I did a shitty thing. You drug me out here to clean up my mess, wrecked your little welcome home present Jean wouldn’t shut up about. I owe you a drink, toots.”

He leans in a little closer. You can smell the cigar smoke on him, probably embedded into his clothes at this point. It’s not an apology. Not really.

It’s an olive branch. 

__________

It’s exactly the same. Old country on the jukebox, dirty floors, old tattooed lady bartenders that wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they tried something. Funny how little hole-in-the-wall places like this never change. You’re grateful for it. 

You and Logan huddled into the farthest booth in the corner away from the commotion. His beer’s already half gone by the time you’re on your second sip. Somehow you’re not surprised. 

“How the hell did Charles get stuck with you?” You laugh as he wipes away the suds from his stubble. 

“Funny, I could ask you the same.”

You playfully kick him under the table and he thankfully laughs it off. He had a nice smile… you suppose. 

“He drug me in kicking and screaming,” You take another sip, glancing at the kitchen door in hopes the fries you ordered were coming. Logan leans forward, waiting for you to continue. “I… ran away from my birth family. Was on the streets for probably six months before he found me. I was thirteen.”

“That’s the most boring way to tell a probably good story I’ve ever heard,” He says before taking another gulp. 

“Oh, please tell me your life story then, Mr. Wolverine.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, we’d be here a while, Darlin’.”

Well… if he was asking about you. 

“I was born in Guam… I think. We moved almost every year. Mom died before I even had memories. Was brought up by a Colonel in the army and two brothers.”

“Military brat. Should have guessed.” You kick him under the table again, “Explains the temper too I guess.”

“Well, a military upbringing with a bunch of boys’ll do that.” 

When was the last time you told someone about your life? And why was it so easy to tell him? He holds your gaze for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Why’d you run away then?” He asks. 

“Oh, you’re gonna need a lot more alcohol in me for that, fella.” you skillfully evade the question. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to tell him everything . 

“That can be arranged,” waves at the waitress, signaling for another round. You look at his practically empty mug and you're still practically full one— and still no fries. God help you. 

“Your turn,” you prompt him, “Tell me something about you.”

His posture tenses. 

“Not much to tell, sweetheart.”

“Where were you born?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Okay, where’d you grow up?”

“Same answer.”

“Did you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, “Like I said, it’s a long story… but I’m missing a lot of details. It’s not worth listening to, I promise.”

You suddenly feel bad for snooping so much. He had a boundary, and that was fine. Just because you were so keen on sharing doesn’t mean he has to be. 

The waitress delivers your next round along with a greasy basket of fries. Logan is the first to reach for one. 

“You said Chuck drug you in kicking and screaming?” His eyes soften again, “I guess he did with me too.”

He’s trying to be friendly. Trying to be a little gentler.

“Oh?” you gently prod him to continue. 

“I’m not…” he runs his hand through his pointed hair, “I wasn’t a good man… the parts I can remember. And Chuck gave me a chance. I don’t like it all the time… bein’ somewhere I don’t belong. I run. It’s what I do. But they keep havin’ me back. So… I get it.”

You suspect he hasn’t told anyone this, but he’s saying it to you. He chose you to trust for some reason. Your heart clenches. 

You thumb at the handle of your still mostly full beer next to another waiting one, unsure of how to continue. You both started with the heavy shit, so there was only one way to go now. You came here to clear the air… but you also came here to drink. You take the mug and raise it to Logan. 

“To the class fuck ups then.”

__________

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to buy you six drinks on a practically empty stomach. To be fair, you didn’t admit that you’d skipped lunch until drink four and by then the fries were gone and the kitchen was closed. Half a basket of fries wasn't a good substitute dinner, it turns out. Not so much a lightweight as just an idiot, but everyone’s a lightweight compared to Logan. Perk of a healing factor is he can sober up pretty damn quick when he needs to. Practically had to wrestle the keys out of your hands while you were stumbling your way back to the truck. 

Cute how you thought you could put up a fight. He carried you the rest of the way to the truck, you giggling the whole way. Funny how he didn’t really mind either. 

So used to drinking alone, he’d forgotten what it was like to do it with someone else. All the comradery that came with it and a few sloppy games of pool too. Kurt wasn’t much for booze, unfortunately. Hank, Jean, and Storm were always too damn busy to relax, and Scott… like hell he’d have a drink with Scott. 

But this was all your idea. You brought him to a shitty bar, shared a little bit yourself with him and now he was driving you home while you poorly slurred along with whatever was playing on the radio.

And he didn’t mind one bit. 

He didn’t know what to make of you when you first came. They all talked about you with such admiration whenever your name came up… which was all the damn time. You were quiet, skittish almost. Kept your nose down and got to work immediately. 

He recognized what you were doing right away. 

Logan understood what it was like to be part of something and feel like a stranger. Hell, that’s all he’d ever been. Just someone passing through until the X-Men. He’s still learning how to do it. Be part of something. He meant it when he said he wasn’t a good man, but he’s a better man than he was. He wouldn’t have that without Charles. 

And here you come, someone who had it all and left it behind just to try to be normal out in the world. The one thing people like you could never be. Yeah, he really got it.

You admitted you were an angry kid in your drunken ramblings. He has a hard time picturing you that way— a little rebel. You shied away from talking more about personal things. Your family and whatever the hell else that past life entailed. He didn’t pry, didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than he already had. Instead, the conversation drifted into one of those that’s about everything and nothing at all. Just sharing drinks with a friend kind of conversation. 

He liked it… having someone to talk to. 

You’re finishing up belting Bohemian Raposesty when he finally pulls into the driveway of the mansion. 

“Shows over, rockstar,” he announces as he kills the engine. 

“Boooo!” You weakly protest as soon as the radio dies, “Killjoy!”

“That’s me,” he grumbles, getting out and walking over to your door. You slump out of the seat as soon as he opens it, “Come on, princess.” 

You’re slumped over, curled up into the flannel he offered as a blanket. He pulls you into his arms, deciding it’d be easier to just carry you straight to bed rather than herd you up the steps. God he hopes everyone’s gone to bed by now, otherwise he’s probably going to get an earful for getting their precious darling drunk. 

“You’re like the firemen… in those calendars…” you slur as he pushes through the front door, “Or a lumberjack. With those chops, you have to be a lumberjack.”

He holds back a laugh at your girlish ramblings. To his relief, no one is in the foyer. He quickly hikes up the stairs, squirming drunk girl in hand. You were already dozing off by the time he reached the top of the stairs. 

Thank god. 

“Whoa, deja vu,” you rub your hands down your face, “I feel like 'm 16 again. We did this all the time back ‘n the day.” 

“Yeah? Who carried you to bed then?” your door is in sight. 

“The Professor.” you jokingly wheeze out without hesitation. “Guy loves his brandy.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Logan scoots past your door, careful of your head. He lays you down on the bed gently, you don’t protest. He carefully unlaces your shoes while you squirm into the covers. 

“Y’know, yer nicer than I thought you’d be.” You can’t even keep your eyes open now. 

“That right?” Logan smiles to himself as he pulls one sneaker off. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod, nuzzling your head into the pillow, “Funny, I thought the Wolverine would be so scary.”

He cringes a little at your words. He won’t hold them against you, not in this state. 

“I’m very scary.”

You blow a raspberry before continuing, “No yer not! You're just a guy. A hunky, lumberjack guy who hates flowers.”

“I don’t hate flowers.”

“Right… just my flowers.”

“Yeah, just your flowers,” he pulls off the other shoe. Your feet immediately shoot up into the covers. He smooths a comforting hand over your hip. It makes him happier than it should when you don’t flinch away. 

“You need anything else, darlin’?”

“Stop doin’ that,” You groan into the pillow.

“Stop what?”

“Makin’ me blush with your dumb pet names.” You admit, “Stop it.”

He smiles to himself, a familiar warm feeling rising in his stomach. He’ll leave you be for tonight. Best to wait until you're sober to ask what you mean by that anyway, if only to watch you blush a little more. 

“I’ll leave you be then,” he almost feels regret when he stands off of the bed. Almost. You were drunk. Tired. There was nothing more to be said tonight. 

He drags your empty trash can over to the side of the bed, just in case, and fills a glass of water for you too. 

“I had fun tonight,” He says before walking towards the door. Your voice makes him pause.

“Logan?” you call out like a scolded child.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually hate my flowers, do you?”

“No, darlin’. I don’t hate your flowers.” 

He makes sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him. 

__________

[bg-brainrot]

The Night They Slept Together

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)

Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession

A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D

Word count: ~2.1k

--

Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.

It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.

The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look. 

You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.

It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.

That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you. 

Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.

The night you’d realized that everything had changed.

What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love. 

After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.

That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation. 

You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.

Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.

“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”

His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty. 

You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.

After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”

Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.

You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.

“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”

Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”

Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.

“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.

Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”

He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”

You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal. 

So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”

Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”

You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.

He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.

“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.

You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.

To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”

There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…

“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all. 

His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”

“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?

More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?

But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.

Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.

They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”

You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside. 

They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.

It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.

You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.

Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.

You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully. 

They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.

So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.

Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether. 

Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?

But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.

So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”

Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body. 

You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.

His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.

It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.

But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.

[generalllimaginesss]

"If the entire human population was in front of me, I'd still choose you” with Jack.

I can only imagine what it would be like to have fans attack you if you were publicly dating him. I feel like Jack is so conscious of this. And he’s just soft boyfriend Jack trying to block out the unnecessary noise.

Maybe they just went public and she’s getting a lot of hate and it’s making her insecure. And Jack reminds her that it’s just them against the world and the only people whose opinions matter are their family and friends who love her.

Warnings: self depreciation, insecurities, self image issues, etc. Please don't read if you're not in a good headspace!!!

This is probably my favorite thing that I’ve written. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

plus size! reader x Jack Hughes

••

You knew that dating somebody in the limelight would have its challenges. Hell, dating an average person was hard. But nothing could have prepared you for the magnitude of hate that hit as soon as Jack went public with your relationship.

It wasn't like the relationship was new. The two of you had been dating for almost a year before he decided to post you on his Instagram. You let Jack set the pace since he was used to the attention. He could let things go in one ear and out the other a lot easier than you could. He was almost conditioned to be able to do that. You, on the other hand, took everything very personally. Every comment about your weight, about what you wore, about how Jack looked miserable with you, they all hit you like a ton of bricks.

You didn't understand why all of these people were coming at you saying so many horrible things, but Jack tried his best to ease your mind and remind you that at the end of the day it was you and him.

He did a really good job at this normally, but he was away on a roadie for a few days and things began to get really bad. This started when you saw a fan account for Jack post something about how Jack downgraded from Sienna to you and all of the comments agreeing.

It was like a rabbit hole...once you clicked on that post it led you to many others. They all made you feel like shit, but when people started commenting on your body, saying that they "didn't know Jack dated plus size girls," it hurt. Your body was yours. It wasn't like you could just zip it off and find a new one, but if you could you would, just to shut the comments up.

You spent the 3 days Jack was gone in a really dark depression. No laundry was done, you hadn't showered, and you barely could make yourself get out of bed to brush your teeth. Dishes piled in the sink, but you couldn't make yourself do them. You knew the signs of your depression, but you welcomed them in a way, almost like a coping mechanism. Not allowing people to see you was the only way the haters couldn't get new material. Was it a healthy way to cope? Obviously not, but it was what worked in the moment.

As soon as Jack walked through the front door, returning from the games, he could tell something wasn't right. You always kept up with the chores when he was away, normally making the house spotless before he got back. So when he saw the state of the kitchen and eventually the rest of the house, he knew something was off.

When he walked into the bedroom and saw that you were pretty much in the same spot he left you in he immediately dropped his bags and climbed into the bed with you, forcing you to look at him.

He gently shifted your body to face him, cupping your cheek gently with his hand.

"Baby, what happened," He made note of the streaks that stained your face, probably from countless hours of crying. He wanted to make them disappear immediately. You were his happy-go-lucky, carefree girl. You danced around the house all the time, singing whatever song was playing. This side of you was uncharted territory that he wanted to take away so bad.

"I just need you to hold me," You began to hyperventilate, worried that if he didn't hold you that he would leave you. Even though that would never in a million years cross his mind. But he did as you asked, and whether it was for 5 minutes or 30 minutes, he didn't know. He held you until you pulled away.

"Can we talk about it?" Jack asked, pulling the hair that crusted on your cheek from the tears out of your face. He treated you like you were fragile, and you hated that he felt that way.

"It's just the comments, Jack. I'm already insecure sometimes and these people come at me in so many horrible ways," You began to explain, loose tears streaming down your face, but you were composed otherwise.

"They compare me to Sienna, and God, I know I'm not as pretty as her. They tell me I'm fat and that they didn't know you dated "fat" girls. It's just insane. Do they not realize that I actually am a real person with real emotions? Do they know that I've believed, at some point in time, the things they are saying? I've worked so hard to get to this place where I'm at, to love who I am, and within the span of 3 days they just tear it all down," You let the words just flow from your mouth, whatever thought that comes to mind is voiced to Jack.

"Baby, they don't care. They don't care because they're jealous," He tries to soothe you, but it almost made you mad. Not at Jack, but at the whole situation.

"What the fuck are they jealous of? My thighs that I cover with leggings and pants so that I won't have to go through the pain of them chafing? Are they jealous of the fucking stretch marks that go up my stomach, so I refuse to wear regular bikini bottoms? I mean what the fuck, do they want my anxiety and depression? I will gladly give them that..." The tears were beginning to pick up, but Jack continued to rub your back, waiting to get the chance to speak again.

"I know you could have any girl you wanted. It makes me sick when I see some blonde walk past that looks like she stepped out of a magazine because I know that's what you deserve. You don't deserve this. You're Jack fucking Hughes," You looked at him, your lip quivering. You were going to say something else, but Jack put his finger on your lips, gently stopping you from continuing.

"You gotta stop that. I can't let you keep putting yourself down like this, not when I love you with my whole fucking heart," He began.

"First off, I had that. I had whatever you consider a girl walking out of a magazine is. Look how that turned out. It didn't, did it? You don't look like Sienna, and I'm so fucking glad because I don't want her kind of beautiful. I want your kind. I want to see all of the things on your body that show me that you lived. I don't want some manufactured cookie-cutter girlfriend. I want somebody that nobody else has," He pulled you in for a hug, continuing to talk while placing kisses ever so gently on your cheek and neck, looking out the window at the busyness that was the outside world. All he could think about was how you didn't see what he saw. Why couldn't you see it?

"Baby, I want you to realize something. If the entire human population was in front of me, I'd still choose you. Without a second thought, with no regrets. Every. Single. Time. You have such a special relationship with my brothers and that means the absolute world to me. They love you so much. My parents tell me I should marry you anytime that you come up in the conversation. The entire team has commented on how much happier I am with you. And if I'm being completely honest, at the end of the day I don't give a damn what anybody else has to say because it's me and you until the end. Do you understand me?" He broke the hug, cupping your face with both hands and wiping at the tears with his thumbs.

"I love you," You whisper, your voice long gone by now.

Jack pulls your forehead toward his lips, kissing it for a few seconds before letting your head go.

"I love you, too. More than you, or anybody else, will ever know. Now, I think we could go for some cleaning karaoke, yeah? I'll wash the dishes if you'll dry them," He poked at your side, trying, and succeeding, in forcing a grin on your face.

"Only if we can get a shower together afterwards," You bargained, taking in the beautiful boy.

"Deal," He says and drags you off to the kitchen, connecting his phone the the speaker and blaring Dierks Bentley's new song "Beer at My Funeral," occasionally twirling you in a circle.

The water may or may not have gotten everywhere since Jack decided it was a good idea to spray you with the hose that connected to the sink, but he enjoyed every second that he got chased by you around the island.

Once the dishes were put up and the shower washed away the remaining bit of your depression, Jack couldn't help but to just admire you. He promised himself then that he would remind you so often of how beautiful you were so that would be the only words ringing through your head, taking up any space that the hate may have. Because it was true. You were the most beautiful and precious thing that had ever walked into his life, and he'd be damned if anyone made you feel otherwise.

*

*

*

*

[gunsandspaceships]

Tony’s Childhood. Part 2.2. Effects: Inner Child

Before this part, be sure to read Part 1 and Part 2.1.

Let’s go back to his sometimes childish behavior: for example, he plays nanoball with Pepper in several scenes in IM2, buys her plush toys, throws things off the countertop and climbs onto it to be higher, and so on…

Some may have noticed that this happens more often in the presence of Pepper, who in some ways acts as his mother figure. And, even more important for understanding this phenomenon, he does this when he is in serious condition: in IM2 he is dying from palladium poisoning, in IM3 he has PTSD.

Note: using the phrase “childish behavior” I do not mean infantilism as a disorder – that’s different, and something that Tony does not have.

So why is he like this?

The answer is simple: he was not allowed to be a child when he was one, and was emotionally neglected, so his normal psychological development was disrupted from an early age, leading to the development of this coping mechanism, and ultimately part of his personality remained in "child mode".

As Howard rushed to prepare Tony to become "the messiah", he discouraged him from normal childhood activities and behavior, even when Tony was 4 years old. His parents were not present in his life emotionally from the beginning, and later they were also not present physically. From the age of 7, Tony lived in conditions that children much older than him usually live in, with those older children, not with peers. His activities there consisted mainly of studying science and technology. He couldn't act like the child he actually was. And in college, when he was still a kid, he was thrown into the community of college students. Not the proper environment for a child.

From his perspective when he recruited Peter in CW he was recruiting a 15-year-old himself, who, in many ways, was already an adult.

However, these misfortunes in the future allowed him to easily find a common language with children like Harley, Peter, and Morgan. His inner child understands them, knows what they want and need, how they think. He does not talk down to them and treats them as equals. He also knows what to get Harley for his help and how to be a great father - because he can see from both perspectives.

Conclusion: Tony was deprived of the opportunity to be a child, which affected his psychological development, leaving him a bit of a child in his adult life. This had its pros and cons, including some difficulty communicating with other adults, but at the same time, it made it easier to communicate with children.

It also gave him a somewhat distorted view of childhood (thinking that other children were just like him - practically little adults), which gradually faded with the experience of caring for a "regular" teenager.

All these features also allowed him to become a wonderful father in contrast to his own.

[the-guilty-writer]

No Matter What

Request (from anon): hiii if its not too much trouble could you do Reid x daughter reader where she had BPD and she has a anger breakdown??

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: Spencer helps his daughter with BPD through an anger breakdown.

A/N: Huge thank you to @huffufflejoy for beta/sensitivity reading and advising me on this work. Your help is greatly appreciated! Now for my usual disclaimer before my pieces that heavily involve any neurodivergent topic: I try my best to potray mental illness in the most accurate yet sensitive way possible. Please let me know if you have concerns or issues with my work. It's important to note that everyone experiences mental illness in different ways and this may not be indicative of the experience of everyone with BPD.

CW: Reader has BPD, anger breakdown, talks of schizophrenia, self-loathing, small amount of physical violence, reader is shorter than Spencer

---

Spencer had learned long before you were born that understanding from knowledge and understanding from experiencing were two different things.

No matter how much he had read about schizophrenia, he could never truly understand what his mom was experiencing. No matter how much he'd read about being a dad, it did not prepare him for actually being one. And no matter how many people he talked to, articles he read, or data he went through, he would never truly understand what it was like for you to live with BPD.

At first, his research led him to believe that he might be able to understand some of the experience. After his dad leaving him at such a young age, Elle's resignation, Gideon leaving with nothing but a letter to say goodbye, and Emily's fake death, Spencer always had an underlying concern that the people in his life were going to leave.

But to him it was just that- an underlying concern. Like how he prefered paper over computers, but wasn't paranoid about it like his mother had been during an episode in which she threw the TV out of the house. Or how he might tell someone "My daughter is my whole world", but if he didn't hear from you for a day his whole world didn't seem to fall apart.

Nothing about your experience would ever be comparable to his. All he could do was try to understand.

Spencer had just woken up when he heard the shattering. He got out of bed, trying not to get his limbs tangled in the sheets, but still moving faster than he usually did at 7 AM. When he threw his bedroom door open, he took in the sight before him. His genius brain tryed it's best to calculate what move to make next.

You were standing in the small kitchen, surrounded by pieces of porcelain. White knuckles were threaded through your hair, threatening to pull the strands out by the root. A look of distress was plastered on your face as your chest heaved. Spencer only hoped that he'd gotten here before the anger turned into a blackout.

"(Y/N), Sweetie," Spencer cooed. He walked toward you, careful to avoid the broken bowl. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" Your voice was shrill in your exasperatedly irritable state. "I- I dropped the bowl and it broke, and now I can't make cupcakes for Henry, and I broke the bowl- I'm so sorry-"

Spencer tried to change the subject in an effort to calm you. "You were going to hang out with Henry today?"

"No, of course no. Why else would I be trying to make him cupcakes?" You snarled at your dad with degrading sarcasm. "All my other friends hate me and now he probably will now too and- and the bowl!"

It wasn't an unusual thing for you to say. Keeping surface-level friendships alive could be difficult with BPD. People didn't understand where the swing of emotions came from, and how you couldn't control the things you said when the mental bomb went off. They didn't understand why you would share a hobby with them, and then a week later, drop it completely. Even when you explained BPD, used your coping skills, and tried your hardest, it was difficult just to exist in society.

Henry made it easier. The two of you had been friends since you were small children. He took his time to understand you. He could calm your nerves, help you cope, give you reassurance, set healthy boundaries.

Still, your dad was you favorite person; your safe place. Spencer made you feel secure in a way that no one else could. It didn't matter how high you flew or how hard you fell, he was the constant presence in your life that you needed. That's why the underlying fear of losing him could make you spiral.

"It's broken! It's broken and I'm broken!" The sarcasm slipped away behind your anger.

"You're not broken," Spencer cooed.

"Yes I am!" You screamed at him. Tears of fury streamed down your face. The look in your eyes was enough to tell your dad that you were close to a breakdown, and he couldn't help but look nervously at the shards still littered on the ground.

Spencer took a risk, walking forward. He got to you in three carefully calculated strides.

"Come here," he whispered, though you were only inches apart and his arms were almost all the way around you.

"No, no-" you muttered. Your eyes were shut tight, arms pulled to your chest as if they were a shield over your heart.

Spencer wrapped you in a hug against your wishes, only pulling you tigher when your fists came towards his chest. Your muttering and sobbing and squirming continued as he held you as tightly as he could.

"I love you."

"I'm telling the truth."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You're worthy."

"I will always be here."

Spencer didn't know if the words actually helped, but he liked to think they did. As the pendulum of emotion began to fall and you stopped fighting in his arms, the only sound in the kitchen became the mantras he whispered and your heavy breathing.

"I-I'm sorry, dad," your words were barely desipherable between dry sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean- I'm so sorry. Please-"

"It's okay." Spencer kept his voice calm, soothing, reassuring. "It's only a bowl."

"I broke it and I got so-" you choked out the words as if saying them was physically painful.

Spencer had to remind himself that it was. Just like the way a panic attack could make someone's heart race or their palms sweat, the humiliation of being unable to control your emotions made your throat close. He wished it didn't.

"It's all my fault- I'm sorry."

Spencer looked down at your puffy face. Your lip trembled with anxiety. Salt stained cheeks rested in his palms. In the glassy look of your eyes he could see his own reflection, his own expression. It matched exactly how he felt; concern for you that came from pure love. He only wished you'd see that there was nothing in this world that could make him leave you willfully. There was nothing in this world that could take that love.

"I promise it's okay," he kept his voice quiet. "Can we clean it up together?"

You nodded.

"I'll be here so you're safe," he reassured you. But it was also for himself.

You nodded again.

"Okay." He gently let go of your face. "Let's clean up."

Together, the two of you carefully swept up the pieces of procelain. It took no more than two minutes to do, but Spencer couldn't help but spew a few interesting facts. They made you feel better, more relaxed.

"In Japan they use a technique called kintsugi to repair pottery," he explained. "Craftsmen take the broken bits and mend them together with gold."

The both of you rose to your feet, you with a broom and Spencer with the dustpan. "It actually makes the object stronger and more beautiful." He disposed of the broken bowl in the trash.

"Is this your way of telling me that every time I break I get stronger and more beuatiful?" you asked. It wasn't snarky or sarcastic- it was exhausted. "Because I don't feel that way."

Your dad took the broom from you, putting it back in the small storage closet. "Not quite," he said, then turned. "Because a lot of people believe the practice rose from the philosophy of wabi-sabi, which encourages people to look for and appreciate imperfection."

You blinked at him. "I'm confused."

He wrapped you in a hug. "It's my way of telling you that I'm not going anywhere. It doesn't matter to me how strong you are or how beautiful you are- how perfect or imperfect. I'm always going to be here, and I'm always going to love you, no matter what."

[bobosbillionsknives]

i agree with a lot of your points about knives, i do also think he is aroace of some kind (demi imo), but the way he ignores bodily autonomy wasn't a theme that was new to stampede. the way he consumes other plants and forced vash to use his angel arm are examples of it, though less explicitly 'sexual'. either way, his actions weren't born out of sexual attraction, he simply thinks that all plants are an extension of himself and he can use their bodies as he pleases since its for a 'greater purpose'. he is not a predator but he isn't innocent either

Oh no no no no no no no I do NOT wanna give the impression that I am genuinely defending knives is ANY way. 😭

I completely agree with everything you're saying. He is inarguably abusive. Saying he's not would be a wild ass claim to make. 🙏 My only argument here is that it isn't specifically sexual, but I'll get more into that in a bit. 😝 I have SO MUCH to say abt this...so I'm gunna use this as an excuse to word vomit on y'all. Thank you for bringing this to me I am itching.CRAVING to talk about my favorite girls always. 🤗💖

INSANE ESSAY POSTING LETS GOO !!!

I think your point on Knives seeing the plants as an extension of himself is SPOT ON!!! He does the same thing with Vash too. He's doing it because hes so stuck up his own ass he seriously thinks there is no possible way he could ever be wrong, everyone else is just too blind or stupid to see it his way. That's why he does the whole "eternal suffering for Vash the Stampede" bit. He genuinely cannot comprehend that Vash just fundamentally disagrees with him. He thinks if Vash goes out and sees every horrible thing a human can be he'll finally give up the hippy dippy act and face this false reality Knives made up as a coping mechanism so he never has to actually face any of his problems. Cause stabbing all your problems away is waaaaay easier than actual growth or change. Top ten girls who are trapped by the horrors of their past 😂!

Knives has a blatant misunderstanding of people's worth outside of himself. He disregards the lives of others constantly, he literally murdered 20 mil+ and was genuinely confused when Vash was mad at him for it. He doesn't take anything seriously. He especially doesn’t take physical pain seriously, unless it’s happening to himself. [DID YOU ACTUALLY SHOOT ME!!?] He's said that he knows none of the crazies he sends after Vash can ever kill him. He thinks if they can't kill him, then none of the hurt Vash experiences during these fights really count. Its always a game to him. He knows Vash will be fine because he has faith in his ability to fight. (He's complimented his fighting skills several times lol.) Yet he’s consistently shocked and disgusted when he sees Vashes scars, like he didn’t play a role in that ??? He just never thought of it until it was literally staring him in the face.

HE THINKS EVERYTHINGS A DAMN GAME !!!!!

Knives never really wants to force Vash to agree with him either, he's literally waited decades for him to come around to his point. He's definitely lashed out violently before, and has disregarded his safety. But I don't think he actually even likes seeing Vash in pain 😭 (maybe a little in a Itoldyouso brother kinda way lol.) He's completely horrified when he sees his scars. This panel speaks absolute VOLUMES to me. He is angry that Vash would allow people to hurt him this much. (Bro is for sure a victim blamer 🥱 Vash OBVIOUSLY should've known humans are evil and would do this to him. 🙄 HIS FAULT !) Those scars solidify in his mind that his brother is reckless, and clearly doesn't know what's best for himself. That's why he feels the right to "save" him from humans. Knives out of anyone in the world knows how much Vash disregards his own life. He's angry that his own brother would choose the perceived violence of humanity instead of the safety he has worked SO hard to cultivate for over a hundred years. After everything they learned from their childhoods, Vash would have to be deaf and dumb to keep crawling back to them. (From his perspective anyway.)

Everything Knives does he thinks is to better Vashes life. That's what makes him such a tragic character to me. He genuinely believes he's in the right and doing everything he has to so him and his brother can feel that safety that was never guaranteed to them in childhood. He loves Vash, (PLATONICALLY !!!! 😰) He wants Vash to be happy. He just doesn't understand why, that despite everything, living alongside the humans is what makes him happy. Something he only accepts at the end of trimax when he literally trees himself to assumed death so Vash could have that. Knives is unambiguously in the wrong, but I do think his thought processes are sympathetic. WRONG. But like .I get it girl. Besides, he acts more like a toxic mother than anything. How DARE you be so ungrateful after everything I've ever done for you that you've never even asked for. ✋😒 and EXPLICITLY told me not to do. Ugh. 🙄 you don't even love me…guess im just a terrible brother than huh…🥀 BITCH SHUT UP !!!!

Now about the asexuality, not only...do I think Knives is aroace. I think he's completely sex REPULSED!!!!! Sex is a mark of human degeneracy, animals clinging for power over each other. Hed think hes above it !! It would disgust him, I don't think he's ever had a sexual thought in his life. He’s also a Jesus freak he'd think procreation in general is a sin 🙄‼️ik his interpretation of the bibles gotta be INSANE. Exploring sensuality is like a normal and healthy thing to do no fucking WAY Knives is self aware enough to do all that. If he could experience any kind of libido, his hatred of humans would never allow him to explore it anyway. Since sex is such a huge part of human culture. He probably thinks consensual sex is a myth humans made up to assault each other easier…😭

this is literally him bro I can't see him any other way...🚬 He's literally a pearl clutching mom who refuses to understand anyone else's experiences because he doesn't understand them.

I can't imagine him being able to feel romantic love either...I actually think it would be pretty out of character ngl. Plus I think it could be an interesting element of why he feels so disconnected from humanity in general. It would be part of why he feels the need to define himself as alien. Knives would rather die than admit this, (and he did) but all he's ever wanted was understanding. The same way Vash does. Knives doesn't understand sexuality/romance, or deep empathy, or most social confinements at all. That's clear by his inappropriate emotional reactions and lack of a filter. He can't feel emotions the same way Vash or Rem can. It makes it very difficult for him to relate to and connect with others. Especially Rem. He feels too wrong, too broken, too alien. But he's convinced himself that this is actually a superiority. So he can sleep at night. But he's far more human than he'll ever be willing to accept. The familial love he feels for Vash is the only thing that makes him feel normal. And it's why he clings to it so desperately. I think that feeling being explicitly familial makes the most sense for the story.

(cut for explicit talk of SA/CSA)

Im never one to dismiss bad actions from a fictional character. If I thought Knives was a sexual abuser, id say it. I even considered it before I watched/read Trigun and kept it in mind the whole time because of how prevalent of a take it is. If anything, I feel like theres more evidence for metaphorical depictions of Knives BEING sexually abused than being the sexual abuser. I mean his literal whole thing is how plants bodies are used and abused against their will. Solely for the humans gain. While it's slowly and painfully killing them. And how afraid he is that they'll do it to him too....😭 He would be absolutely HORRIFIED by SA. I just don't think it's an abuse he'd perpetuate. It goes against literally everything he stands for. I get he’s a hypocrite and all but I could just never see Knives of all people doing anything sexually ever. ESPECIALLY for his own pleasure.

Both Vash and Knives read to me as CSA victims. This would need to be a separate post all together because there is entirely just too much to say. But I feel very strongly about this interpretation and it's why I'm so firm on this. Sexual abuse is a huge theme in trigun OBVIOUSLY!! And Vash and Knives can easily represent different ways people cope with trauma like that. Knives gets angry, and bitter, and lashes out. While Vash shuts himself off, and tries to run away from it all. Two extremes from two brothers. Two sides of the same coin and all that. They've been victimized, I think it's the main reason why Knives would be so angry and distrustful of humans. Now I know Steve was kind of a throw away character from the anime- but I believe long term interpersonal abuse from a human early in life would explain a lot of the deep rooted hatred Knives has for humanity. Along with his hatred for Rem if she failed to protect them, and his deep sense of entitlement to protect Vash if Vash couldn't protect himself. (Tesla was the last straw for Knives bc at least for a while he thought he could trust Conrad till all that happened and he realized the only person he could ever trust was Vash, and that fear never really left him even 100+ years after.) (My interpretation of Conrads role is also a different post gerrrrr TOO MUCH TO SAY.)

Knives' ideology has always been inconsistent, I can easily see him disregarding autonomy in some ways but refusing to in others and never making a mental connection between the two. Plus Knives would think Vashes scars are shameful and disgusting. He probably cant even make himself look at him let alone touch him be so fr. Knives' definitely has an unhealthily attachment to Vash but not in a sexy sex or ROMANCE way 🤦‍♂️ ITS JUST HIS BPD YA’LL 😝‼️#favoriteperson #extremefearofabandonment #vashkeepsleavinghim (also another separate insane essay post) there is no argument here that Knives isn’t extremely bad at emotional regulation. Familial/platonic dynamics like that happen literally all the time it’s just not evidence of anything to me. I can't even see Knives directly punching someone let alone be capable of sexual violence against his own BROTHER ? I'd argue he's far more verbally/emotionally abusive than he ever is physically anyway. He doesn't even kill directly, it's always either done without a second thought by his powers, indirectly by starving the population out, or by making other people do it for him. He doesn't seem to actually enjoy seeing people in pain, more the satisfaction of a job well done. I don't see why this wouldn't apply to Vash too? He doesn't even usually initiate their physical fights. Vash does. (He has every right to, for the record. Knives just doesn't comprehend why Vash would be mad so he always tries to talk like everything is normal. Lol.) And when they are fighting he always puts his hand on his face ?? More annoying than a direct indication of violence. He could just punch him or something but he doesn't? Like violence in Trigun isn't a thing known to happen. Idk I think that's interesting and worth exploring a bit yk ???

Obviously he chopped his arm off I'm not saying he's innocent there either, just that he's more likely to be emotionally manipulative than explicitly interpersonally violent LOOLL. He didn't chop off his brothers arm because he enjoyed it, to him that pain is neutral. It was just a super casual reminder. But SEXUAL violence is completely different, sure it'll leave scars but you can heal from physical pain all day and night I mean commooon it barely even COUNTS as real pain. (Because he rarely has to experience it.) (A certain someone's got a major empathy problem.) And if it kills you it doesn't matter cuz you're already dead 😝!! But SA is different. It's his worst fear and greatest agony. It's something he knows sticks with you your whole life, he doesn't think that's a wound capable of being healed. (So he never tries and chooses to live in constant fear and anger instead.) That's how I see it anyway...🤕 Again it's not like he's a reasonable guy he is known to be a bit unstable idk if u knew...

Actually if anything, I think Vash would be the more interpersonally violent of the two. (Vashes abuse is always reactionary tho he would never act like that if Knives would just be normal lol he is not the aggressor here.) I can't see Knives punching Vash but I could VERY easily see Vash punching Knives ykwim ??? (For trimax anyway, ik kid Knives beats the shit out of him in 98 which I DO think is funny. But I don't accept into my personal canon okay LISTEN we are talking about a lot of conflicting characterizations here. JUST HEAR ME OUT. ✋) Knives never even really blames Vash for BLOWING HIS LEGS OFF in July too, which I always thought was so interesting. It makes me think this is actually a common thing for them to the point that they don't even argue about it outside of "are you actually aiming at me again 🙄?" Which is more bitchy than angry. Like ugh I can't believe you. Typical, typical Vash. 🥱 He'd probably use it as a way of proving to him that they are the same. And despite denying it, Vash would actually agree and feel a deep sense of shame abt it. He's had 150 years of pent up anger after all. He almost killed him with a rock once lol. I'm tired of everyone woobifying Vash as some kind of perpetual uwu victim. Vash is fucking mean sometimes. He is just as capable of violence as Knives is. The same way Knives is just as capable of great kindness. It is known that Vash is in fact physically STRONGER than Knives. (With his plant powers and id assume in general because Vash actually goes outside while Knives reads in his garden all day.) I truly believe that the only reason Knives ever wins the sibling fights is because of Vashes constant hesitance. He's not a battered wife stereotype. All Vash wants is control over his own life, the last thing he'd want to see himself as is a helpless victim. It's why he always pretends nothing is ever wrong with him. It's why he doesn't accept help, and values other people's problems far above his own. His kindness was always an active choice and that's why he's such a powerful character. And Knives would bring out the absolute worst in him LOOL all that work he's done to better himself is instantly thrown out the window the second Knives' very punchable face walks in the room.

He was fighting absolute demons not to run over and beat tf out of Knives in this panel

This is why I feel so disgusted by stampede and the way they handled their relationship. They've dumbed down these characters to the point that they are unrecognizable. Literally every aspect of stampedes portrayal of them feels like a first conclusion based on a synopsis of their goals and personalities. I get there's only one season but that's a LOT to fuck up in one season bro. 😭. There is absolutely no salvaging Nai as a character for me. I'd cover my drink around that guy I find him genuinely repulsive. At least with trimax, you can read around an initial sussy reading if you wanted. How anyone defends Nai, I don't even know. That whole plant insemination thing is pretty on the nose y'all. Literally doesn't even make sense for him to do that like? Why would he want more independent plants??? It's like they tried to make Knives' motivations make sense when the whole point should be that they don't. He's fighting ghosts out of fear. Stampede wasn't even good enough to justify its own existence by how it looks. Adding peculiar plant pregnancy preggo fetish incest bait is just the turd on the turd cake. They ruined the most compelling part of the story for me. Pfft.... But whatever...🚬 not like I care ....🚬

Not to mention Legato y'all don't even get me started. The guy that HATES humans more than anything in the world taking in a HUMAN -SEX TRAFFICKING VICTIM. The one time he's ever taken pity on a human being and it was someone who was the victim of a violent sex crime. Yeah guys that dude. Total raper. Defo a brother diddler. What the fuck are we talking about right now y'all. I genuinely feel like sexual violence would be the last thing knives would ever do ever. I understand that there are sus scenes in the manga that could be interpreted this way, but considering the many themes in Trigun and his place in the story as a whole, I think it is such a misrepresentation. And it frustrates me to see it as one of the only things talked about in regards of his character. If I could, I'd rewrite every scene in the world so people could understand what I see, but I can't. And I know I can't control how other people see the media I like. Trigun is extremely interpretive, and I understand why this is a common conclusion. But I guess I just can't shake the feeling that it's more complicated than that. I have criticisms with trimax and ESPECIALLY 98. And there's obvi a lot id change to fit what I'd find most interesting. (Also why every headcanon revolves around Knives somehow teehee) BUUUUUT I do think all of my analysis is pretty based in canon. I can't stress how insane I am about this and how much I've thought about it 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕. Believe me, I've considered every obstacle. And I've stayed consistent.

Knives is a raper feels like the easy answer to me. To be completely blunt, it's just not as compelling. Vash and Knives would both have very complicated relationships with their bodies and sensualities and gender and their relation to their plantself and their humanself and blah blah blah whatever. I'd much rather explore that as a separate result of the same abuse than default to supercestsimulator69. Knives is already an abuser. Making him a sexual aggressor too doesn't really add anything to the story besides diminish and dumb down his very complex motivations. Vash and Knives should be very good friends who know each other better than anyone. (They are trauma bonded like CRAAAZZY, very codependent like y'all get it.) I think that would make their conflict SO much more interesting. While providing some great context to why Vash is so willing to give every horrible person he meets a second chance at life. If I saw my brother, who I love, and is my best friend in the whole wide world, slowly deteriorate under the pressure of the abuse we we're BOTH experiencing; go fucking crazy and kill everyone. And I KNEWW. He genuinely believed he was doing what he had to do to protect the both of us...I'd probably also give everyone the benefit of the doubt idk. Vash understanding Knives' motivations but still holding on to that (justified) resentment and anger is ESSENTIAAAL to their dynamic and also literally all of Trigun. Sexual abuse throws a rock in all of this. If anything I think Knives would tell Vash "I'm the only one who WOULDN'T assault you. They're human, they'll only see you for how useful you are. It's what they do. It's what you know they do. You're choosing them over me the same way Rem chose Steve over us." Knives' abuse is complicated and multifaceted, not just some gross display of power. He's not even the most power hungry character in the world. He's got a whole cult dedicated to him that he canonically IGNORES.

And he sure as shit doesn't respect people who are desperate for power over others!! He'd think he's above that too. Just more evidence of human deviance. (Like the scene in 98 where kid Vash and Knives are watching the humans fight over water. Animals who think one is more deserving of resources than the other.) He's narcissistic in the literal diagnosable sense but definitely not some kinda megalomaniac. I think that's a huge mischaracterization. He doesn't want to rule the world, he wants to destroy it. And he wants Vash to be his equal in this, he respects Vash. (as far as someone like Knives can respect anybody at all) He doesn't understand why Vash would choose to be so "dumb" because he's never allowed himself to feel the vulnerability of potential harm that Vash wants him to understand is worth it. It's why he locks himself away from the world, he's afraid of being victimized again. Knives' morals are all over the place, he genuinely doesn't think murder is bad but would consider sexual violence to be the worst thing anyone could ever do EVER. It's not like we're talking about the beacon of reason and consistency here y'all, Knives is cray cray sauce.

Anyway that's my thoughts, sorry this took forever to answer. 😿 And ended up being SOOO long.. I've on and off mauled over this writing and rewriting again trying to make any of my garbled thoughts make any sense. Hope it resonates with anybody at least bc I genuinely feel like I've been taking crazy pills lately LOOL. Take care of yourselves everyone. 💖 Never an easy subject to talk about.

[things-that-weevils-do]

ive been turning these 2 around in my mind so so much lately... id like to share why i like them, so ill do so under cut :)

what draws them together? both of their traumas are part of them. neither of them are going to 'get better' in the expected way. they can learn to cope with their struggles, possibly get medications to help with that, but that's it. theyre similar in many things ('their trauma isnt leaving', both are suicidal "feeling suicidal/i wish i wasnt alive" "i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL"), neither like who they are as people "all the pretty girls make me not wanna be me" "do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know?") and both of their songs are about their relationships with other people, even if its not the main theme

weevildoing said this about disposable girl. with chemical girl, its more obvious

this gives them both a deeper understanding of each other !! even though their traumas are still different, theyve got this similarity. they could talk about that, relate to each other, etc...

another thing that draws them together: their interests, id say! she was a skater girl she was a fitness girl, can i make it any more obvious... most of their hobbies arent the exact same, but they are at least in a similar vein id say - anime and gundam, skating and fitness, rap and megan thee stallion. they could easily enjoy each other's interest, i think!:)

what stands in the way? misunderstanding and miscommunication. i think that (when theyre first getting to know each other, at least) disposable wouldnt stand up for herself/tell chemical when shes uncomfortable/when chemical says something that upsets her ("being mistreated would at least mean im real" "that at least means youre someone that they wanna be around"). she'd feel like voicing these things would cost her her and chemical's relationship. i also feel like she wouldnt see this as something worth communicating, possibly

thatd be a problem in all relationships ofc, but itd upset chemical girl especially. she has a hard time forming relationships ("i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know?"). she pushes others away so that she cant hurt them ("theres no point in getting close, leave me alone"). i think that if she and disposable got close, and she found out that it isnt communicating its feelings, shed be upset !! yknow ?? thinking that youve finally found a friend that likes you as you are, when in reality ur just hurting them with everything that you say... getting close to someone for the first time in forever, opening up, just to find that out would probs frustrate her

have an example of smth that i think that would happen when theyre first getting to know each other

i think they'd communicate this eventually tho:) yay yippee! im communication and im understanding🏳️‍🌈the girlfriends

what are their good traits? they want to be there for each other, to help each other grow, to understand one another!! like in "what draws them together?", they understand each other more than the average person. they could help each other accept this - like, its easier to accept people for things that you beat yourself up about, yknow? were more strict with ourselves than other people, its easier to deem someone else as deserving of love than yourself, etc etc... since theyre similar in many things, they could learn to love themselves while they start to love each other !! i hope that makes sense..

them sharing hobbies would be SOOO so cute!!! chemical teaching disposable fitness so that she has an outlet for her frustration, disposable teaching chemical how to skate... chemical showing it gundam, her figurine collection, disposable showing her anime, them listening to rap together.... it would be so cute !!!!! i think disposable would enjoy fitness, but would be embarassed by being bad at it/being slow/sweating a lot/etc. chemical would be cheering her on, proud of her for the smallest improvements... likewise, i think chemical would suck at skating. steps on the skateboard and it explodes. u know how it is

what makes them hopeless at romance? ARGHHH "what to do, when everybody that ive loved has only up and left me?" "im alwasy left out of everything" "nobody fuckinf wants me" vs "theres no point in getting close, leave me alone" "i dont think you should come by my place tonight" "nobody can keep up with me"... need i say more...

i think they should latch onto each other like leeches and never let go

thank you if youve read this far:) theyre so everything to me !!!! theyre sooo... god... shaking them!!!! arghrrrr!!! chemwaste!!! save me chemwaste!!!

(both of these poses are from mellon_soup)

[rnn11203]

How much do you think Demetrius/robin tried with Sebastian? I kinda see all the parents of stardew to be well meaning in a sense that i think they do truly love their children but they get swept up and do wrong due to their circumstances, resentment, and insecurity.

I think Pam loves Penny, but her addiction, raising penny on her own, losing her job… yk? All that pain turned into more pain, i think Pam knows penny has done far too much for her, but is too ashamed to fully realize it, so to cope she internalizes it and blames penny all over. Obsesses over her own sacrifices and her own pain and ends up neglecting her.

I think Jodi loves Sam and Vincent, but she also feels resentful, lamenting about a life not lived, she married young and now worries about a husband who is different from when he left. She’s afraid that Sam’s turned lazy, but also didnt want to repeat the wasted youth she missed out on too, she bottles her emotions and it creates anxiety for Sam specifically. Kent too, its interesting that Sam feels indifferent to his fathers return isnt it? All that lost time, strangers now, Sam had grown fine without him and perhaps this creates guilt for both of them.

I think Pierre and Caroline love Abigail, honestly, i dont think the “rumors” bother Pierre THAT much, i think sometimes he feels it, maybe after a particularly rough fight with either of his family members but i think he truly loves her, he’s her dad after all no matter who her father is. Caroline too, i think it’s just this unspoken thing for them, let the town gossip, they love their daughter. I dont think they understand her very well tho, and yk, she doesnt think they do either. Its one of those things where the more you try to understand, the less you hear. Abigails relationship with her parents reads more cliche teenager to me though, i headcanon that their relationships settle as she ages. I think Abigail would move out of the valley and travel frequently but i think shed make trips back to her family often. Mostly for holidays. I think Caroline specifically would still feel anxious and wish she didnt travel as much, but i think her and Pierre’s relationship gets better in the future too. (It’s funny, Pierre is one of the least popular characters but i actually really like him).

Which brings me to Sebastian, Robin, and Demetrius. Again with an unpopular opinion, when i first played, i really liked Demetrius. Although i did feel that robins side of the arguements were more “correct”.

I headcanon Sebastian’s age to be around 22-23~ while Maru’s is 18-19~. I also headcanon that Sebastians father simply just left while Seb was around 3~. Im curious to how others think him and robin met, im unsure if its ever mentioned in game but honestly i think they met due to work. Demetrius has stated that he studies the local flora and fauna and Robin is a carpenter, i imagine she has a lot of knowledge about pelican towns native plants and animals. I think they were smitten, i can see robin liking Demetrius more nerdy/dorky behavior and robins stern, playful, spitfire personality has captured the hearts of many players after all.

Sebastian comes off as a Velcro kid to me, i think he’d be a huge mamas boy and feel almost threatened by Demetrius. I think robin and Demetrius would marry quickly, and honestly i think Maru was a planned pregnancy, I think robin wanted to give Sebastian a sibling so he’d be less lonely, and i think they’d figure that bonding would happen easier if they were closer in age. I see this being very upsetting to Sebastian, i think he’d see his father once in a while but when hes around 12-13 it’s just.. silence.

Honestly, i think Demetrius would try really hard to bond with Sebastian. But once Maru came along both him and robin were just.. busy. I think Demetrius would unfortunately think “wow this is my first child!” And it alienated Sebastian. I think Sebastian feels abandoned. Replaced. Unwelcome. Which is why he struggles with opening up to others and prefers being alone.

Unfortunately i think robin and Demetrius would just think Sebastian was a more difficult child and that Maru was an easier baby. I think this would embarrass Sebastian and shame him, i dont think they ever meant anything by it but i do think Sebastian was a fussy child who wanted to be soothed. But after their comments, he’d isolate himself so that he too, would be an “easier” child for them. As Sebastian ages i think robin would feel she didnt do enough for him, i think she worries about him often but almost feels like it’s “too late”. I think eventually Sebastian would come to resent and feel mistreated by all his parents and as his behavior worsened, he’d get compared to Maru even more, furthering the resentment and pain he feels. I do think he’d be a meaner older brother though, causing Demetrius to be more protective over Maru causing stronger feelings of “you’re not my dad!” And etc…. Can you tell im sleepy yet?

TLDR: i think they would try their best but ultimately end up sidelining him, causing him to act out more until he just didnt care anymore.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

do you ever think about Killer not just being like semi-immortal but completely immortal. Like how in a True Pacifist "The Soul" will not break no matter how much their hp hits zero they simply refuse death. Do you ever think that Killer could achieve the same thing. Killer does have 1hp still so I always imagine him with high def to make up for it but on the other hand every attack that lands does kill him but he's only dead for less then a second before continuing on none the wiser.

Also what do you think of Reaper x Killer an angel for an angel. Or something like Past Salphys for Killer cause to be honest I've been converted to a Salphys lover im afraid that and Codependent Kist.

No one ever talks about how canonically Dusttale is ruled by the player and Frisk is just an empty vessel what would Killer think of this if he found out and the additional fact that Dust would in canon work with the player of his universe if there was a bigger threat I always got the feeling Killer was uncomfortable with Dust because of Killer firm belief that Sans would never hurt Papyrus and then there's Dust would he choose to simply not think of Dust as Sans or would he have to endlessly question himself on whether or not Sans always wanted to kill Papyrus and Dust is just proof. Sorry for the long ramble but I just love Killer Sans and more people don't do much with his canon self.

~Musical Anon

I guess Reaper x Killer would be interesting, especially because how Killer clearly doesn’t fear death at all and yet he keeps evading death and coming back to life lmao. The elusive little bastard keeps slipping from Reaper’s hands and it’s not even because he wants to live or is scared to die.

I’m not really sure about past Salphys. She was one of the only ones besides Papyrus who managed to get through to Sans on the first run; if only for a brief moment. Could be interesting, especially since Killer doesn’t really seem to think much about her besides the resigned idea that she and everyone else is “inside his head,” (hallucinations) and can kill her and alternates of her no problem—although Stage 1 definitely wouldn’t be able to, although I doubt it’d be enough to trigger Killer into Stage 1 the way a Papyrus can.

And yeah I always thought Killer was unnerved and confused by how Dust can do all that and still see himself as Sans. Killer isn’t Sans, just someone with his face, is how Stage 2/Killer sees himself.

This belief, likely imposed and encouraged on him by Chara and possibly other in the Underground, makes it easier to cope with what he did and still does—to people he used to know and love. Easier to do your job when you aren’t the one they’re begging and pleading to—they just can’t see past the face, and their pointless emotions.

Another reason why i don’t think he’d be comfortable around a Dust that wears Papyrus’ scarf—the same way Chara used to do.

I doubt he’d make it obvious or even fully completely understand why it makes him uncomfortable—he’d probably find a way to rationalize and intellectualize away any emotions brought up by it. Probably say it’s weak to hold on to such useless emotions and keepsakes, which likely wouldn’t go over well with Dust.

Perhaps this is how, if you go with the idea that Dust/Murder insists on keeping his name as Sans, he gets the name Dust/Murder. Because Killer renames him, similar to the way he himself was renamed likely wayback in his AU. Cult like vibes of members encouraging the act of leaving behind your old life, identity and goals in favor of a new one that aligns with the cult and its agenda.

[gravytrainnaturebornn]

the power of self-talk in the fight against self-sabotage (for binge-eaters and ppl who have never been skinny🫶)

disclaimer: this is not proana. this is for people who struggle with binge eating as a form of self-sabotage, emotional comfort, self harm, etc. overeating can cause just as much harm physically and mentally as undereating. please be safe. now, on with the show!

weight loss, but specifically extreme weight loss, equals change. change equals discomfort, so people tend to subconsciously avoid change. this is why starting to see progress on the scale or your body can trigger the urge to self-sabotage that progress and binge eat.

for people who have been big their whole lives, that fear is heightened by the fact that being thin is completely uncharted territory. by following through, youre entering a new world that youve never navigated before. your brain might get scared, say its much too big a mountain to climb, and tell you to give up. its easier to say fuck it because for most people, unhappiness is a comfort zone. if youre used to hating your body and wanting it to change, then actually *changing* it poses a very serious threat to your comfort and the lifestyle youre used to.

questions like: "what if i reach my goal and im still unhappy/unattractive?" "what if i dont look like myself?" "what if i reach my goal, cant sustain it, and then i gain it all back and humiliate myself?" can all make someone feel anxious about succeeding in their weight loss journey. and for people with overeating issues, this is a big trigger for binge episodes.

so how do you combat this instinct to self sabotage? well, im not a psychologist so take this with a grain of salt, but for me it helps to soothe these subconscious fears and train the brain to fight these urges. self-talk and thought-correction play a HUGE role in rewiring the pathways in your brain that lead you to bingeing. truly, practice and consistency are the only things that are going to cause a big change, so stick with it !

correcting problematic thoughts *immediately* when they form is key to preventing problematic behavior in the future, and that starts with being able to identify those thoughts. the moment you catch yourself thinking about food, cut yourself off with a correction. maybe even think about food on purpose a few times to practice recognizing and correcting it.

for example, if you just ate an hour ago, chances are youre not actually hungry yet. tell yourself that as soon as you realize youre thinking about food. i like to tell myself "i dont need to eat, and im not gonna sabotage myself by eating that." by acknowledging it and calling it what it is--literally an attack, by my brain, on my own progress--i immediately attach a sense of accountability to the actions that follow. there's no deniability. its no longer a passive choice. theres no mindless eating or "i wasnt thinking about it." if i eat after acknowledging the act of eating as self-sabotage, then that is me *actively* choosing self-sabotage over self-control. accountability alone can change a lot if you let it.

what i tell myself changes depending on the situation, but i find that repeating some of these phrases throughout the day helps to fight urges in general, and certain ones help for specific cravings and situations.

below are some examples of things i tell myself that have helped me fight the urge to self sabotage. they dont all have to be true when you first say them, the point is training your brain to think a certain way. it may feel unnatural at first, but the more you say them the more natural it becomes, until eventually it becomes apart of the way you actually think and you dont have to work so hard at it. remember: consistency. is. key.

okay ill stop blabbing! here:

•i allow myself to be thin.

•i accept the change that comes with losing weight.

•i am ready to see myself differently and cope with any complicated feelings that may come with it.

•i am prepared for my body to change.

•i will deal with my wardrobe when the time comes, and im not afraid of dressing differently for my new body.

•i will adjust to my new dietary needs and appetite when i reach my goal weight. i will not always be hungry; eating less will be my new normal, and i will be okay.

•i am not afraid of being hungry.

•food does not comfort me, nor does it solve my problems or make me feel better.

•i am ready to navigate a life that looks different to the one im living now.

•i am not afraid of reaching my goal. if i do feel afraid, i am confident in my ability to work through difficult feelings and continue towards my goal.

•im not going to sabotage myself by eating that.

•i accept that people will perceive me differently, and i am ready to navigate that change.

•i am prepared to receive comments about my weight loss.

•i am not afraid of getting what i want.

•i believe i deserve what i want, and im dedicated to working towards getting it.

•i am capable of adapting to new routines and habits.

•fear is not a reason to give up, and i will continue to work even if the possibility of change makes me uneasy.

•i am prepared to face the future, even though i do not know what it looks like.

•i allow myself to make mistakes, and i will not use them as an excuse to quit.

•my long-term satisfaction is more important than what i want in this moment.

•i am in control of my actions and i am capable of resisting the urge to binge.

•i allow myself to have the body i desire.

•i allow myself to change.

•i allow my life to look different and i am not afraid to see a new person in the mirror.

•i am excited to reach my goal, and prepared to navigate any changes that come with it.

•i am ready to meet and introduce others to the new me.

[gaypastabake]

Edge Rebella (W.Wolf AU)

[WARNING: gore, implied non-sexual nudity, discussions of PTSD and child abuse, past the first image]

[This is important because Tumblr wouldnt display this post in tags because I initially put TW's in the tags of this post]

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-Edge Rebella, 26

-Last name taken from the sick ass name the German translation for sparks of hope gave her

-A werewolf

-Was born in Milan but taken into captivity by Cursa for most of her life, like many werewolf children before her. Was freed when Cursa was taken to prison. Left for Beacon Beach when she was old enough

-Goes to therapy for the physical and psychological abuse she suffered at the hands of Cursa. Her therapist is also currently the only person who knows that she is a werewolf, and also helps her with her feelings of being a danger to others because of her curse

-Transforming into a werewolf is extremely stressful, painful and disorientating. Your eyes struggle to focus on any one thing, the stress of the process aswell as a sudden rush of violent animal instincts often manifests itself into violent thrashing from those affected from lycanthrope. Werewolves are easily startled by foreign objects and bright lights coming into view, loud noises and moving figures, and not knowing where they are, causing them to become violent in terror. Often times the werewolf wont remember much of the night prior. Edge struggles with those sensory issues in human form aswell- she doesn't cope well with flashing lights and shrill, sudden loud noises- and is absolutely terrified of large, dark empty spaces from when Cursa would lock her away as punishment.

-Her muscular physique, sharp teeth and hair covering most of her body are from her being a werewolf. Also because she works out and prefers not to shave

-Suffers from extreme muscle pain and emotional fatigue after returning to human form, please give her a heat-pad and a massage and look after her, she needs the comfort :(

-The choker she wears is both fashionable and for comfort, she enjoys the feeling of compression around her neck because it makes her feel like shes in a more controlled environment

-She enjoys chewing things as a sensory stim, and would often take those free offcuts they have at hardware stores just to chew on them, as it alleviates the pain she gets in her jaws which comes with being a werewolf, that and mmmm cronchy

-Edge probably also has autism, even though she swears that her sensory issues and stims come from her being a werewolf

-Not used to being so close to other people because of her own insecurities with her being a werewolf and not being socialised as a child

-Works a day-job as a guard/bouncer inside of a bar because of her intimidating presence and overall tough physique. The reason she doesnt work the night shift is because its difficult to explain to your boss why you cant turn up every night theres a full moon

-Lives in a campervan because its easier to drive herself to a secluded area to transform then potentially wreak havoc upon an apartment complex

-Likes Beacon Beach because of the long-held superstition around werewolves in the woods, she figures that people would be wary around going into the woods during the full moon so to minimise the risk of hurting someone

-A bit nervous around receiving fuss and attention, but when warmed up to someone she adores receiving affection, and would definitely love to cuddle with you

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Currently midway through chapter 2 of the fic, planning on dropping them soon once im done info dumping. also im currently sick rn