#what does it mean when a person is ruminating

[draftscyrus777]

Stop Ruminating: an Angel Can End Rumination

Do you obsessively overthink things? Is your mind trapped in a loop of negativity? End Rumination. An Angel Can Help You Stop Ruminating. Continue reading Stop Ruminating: an Angel Can End Rumination

[world-prayers]

Stop Ruminating: an Angel Can End Rumination

Do you obsessively overthink things? Is your mind trapped in a loop of negativity? End Rumination. An Angel Can Help You Stop Ruminating. Continue reading Stop Ruminating: an Angel Can End Rumination

[stormyoceans]

do you guys have like. that one piece of media (any kind of media) that irrevocably changed your life forever. the one that was so deeply formative for who you are as a person standing here today that the you before and after it are just completely and essentially different. the one that if someone asked how to get to really know you you would point at it and feel utterly exposed......

[inf1nyxw0rlds]

i love complexity. except of course if it's about me . hope that helps

[xigheart]

Okay can anyone tell me if ZiDian was an heirloom or made for Yu Ziyuan?

Like it’s purple. Jiang colors are purple. Are Yu colors also purple? Was it made for her when she got married? Did the Yus happen to have a purple whip they gave her and it was just nicely coincidentally purple?

What came first the purple or the whip

[cosmicdahlias]

I Like Hearing You Talk

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

You’ve pined for Logan since the day he came into your life. He makes you so flustered you can barely speak around him. After Wade interrupts your drunken moment together, you’re left feeling incredibly pent up and in desperate need of release.

tags: caught mid-masturbation, oral, face sitting, multiple orgasms, p in v, big dick hurts, rough sex, choking, creampie

y’all i got nothing to say this time, i’m just down bad for logan 😭

Living with Logan Howlett had proved to be… frustrating. For most this would be due to his incredibly abrasive personality, however for you it was for an entirely different reason.

You found him PAINFULLY attractive. He was rough around the edges, blunt, quick tempered, and would maul anyone with his foot long claws if they dared look at him wrong. All of these things should have scared you off, but it only made him more alluring.

Ever since your other roommate, Wade, had introduced him to you, it had been so hard to not feel that primal need deep within your core. You struggled to even form sentences when he talked to you. He didn’t just give you butterflies, he gave you the whole damn garden. So when he invited you to sit on the couch with him and share a few drinks you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust.

An hour had passed and even though the help of a little liquid courage made it significantly easier to talk to him, you were still very much flustered. You had been telling the story of how you and Wade met back in the days when he was still a merc-for-hire.

“But yeah, essentially I hired him to rough up my abuser, make him finally pay for all the shit he did to me.”

“What’d he do to the fucker?”

“Honestly what DIDN’T he do? He beat him so bad that from what I heard he could barely even crawl. Wade gave me one of his teeth, said it was ‘a souvenir of a job well done’.”

“Well was it? A job well done?”

“I mean he never bothered me again.”

“Good, but if he ever does decide to be enough of a dumbass to come near you just let me know and I’ll take care of it. Can’t guarantee he’ll still be breathing after I’m done with him though.”

“That might be going too easy on him.” You joked.

Logan chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

“You know it’s funny, this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak.” He said.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I like hearing you talk.”

“Y- you do?” You stammered, your cheeks turning a dusty pink.

Logan tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I really do.”

You felt your heart thump rapidly in your chest. Everything within you was screaming for you to kiss him, but your whole body felt like concrete, immobile. Logan took your cheek in his hand, coming in so close that his lips almost brushed against yours.

“Do I have to make the first move, babygi-“

Wade burst into the room and the two of you jumped back from each other.

“GUYS! YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHO JUST GOT FRONT ROW TICKETS TO MADONNA! I MIGHT’VE HAD TO SELL A KIDNEY, BUT THIS HANDSOME MOTHERFUCKER REGENERATES SO I BASICALLY GOT THEM FOR FREE!” He shouted, sitting next to you on the couch.

The rest of the night was spent with Wade completely, and unknowingly, third wheeling you two and killing all possible sexual tension.

The next day your mind ruminated heavily on the night before, you had been so close to finally having his lips on yours. You played out in your head how differently things could’ve gone had Wade not interrupted. Images of Logan taking you, claiming you from every position consumed your thoughts. By the time you came home from work the overwhelming need to touch yourself was too much to ignore.

You quickly said “hi” to Logan and stole yourself to your room, undressing and lying back on the bed. You wasted no time letting your fingers move straight to your clit, your other hand caressing one of your breasts.

You closed your eyes and moaned softly, imagining Logan’s strong hands in place of yours. You allowed your mind to echo his voice uttering words of praise, telling you all the things you desperately wanted to hear from him.

“Mmmnn, Logan.” You whimpered as you felt yourself grow close.

At that very same moment your door swung open.

“Hey, you alright? I thought I heard- oh shit.” Logan said.

You jumped nearly a foot out of your skin and your eyes snapped open to the sight of him in the doorway. You quickly pulled the covers over yourself.

“FUCK! WAIT! I WASN’T- I- hold on, could you hear me?”

“Did you forget how thin the walls are?”

“Motherfucker.” You groaned.

Logan closed the door behind him and walked over to stand at your bedside.

“Now, my turn to ask a question with an obvious answer. Who were you thinking about?” He asked.

You felt your heart do a somersault.

“You really want me to say it?”

He cupped your chin, stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Yeah, I do.” He said softly, pulling down the covers to reveal your body.

His eyes looked you up and down with the intensity and hunger of a wild animal.

“You, Logan.” You said softly.

“Yeah? Then is this little pussy all wet because of me?” He asked, slipping a hand between your legs.

You nodded.

“Thought so.”

He dragged the pads of his fingertips along your wetness.

“Now, why don’t you finish giving me that little show I walked in on?” Logan instructed, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

You turned deep scarlet.

“Logan, I-“

“C’mon babygirl, you were so close.” He coaxed, taking your hand and guiding it down. “Are you gonna be good girl and cum for me?”

You drew circles against your clit and with a shudder felt the pleasure return to you. Logan watched you intently.

“Fuck, I can’t hold myself back, not with you looking like this. I need your mouth around my cock.”

Logan unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his intimidatingly massive cock. Your jaw dropped at the sheer size of him.

“Holy shit, Logan.”

“You good?”

“Yeah, my jaw might not be.”

Logan turned your head to face his throbbing cock.

“It’s alright, only take what you can handle.”

You went to take him past your lips when he stopped you.

“Wait, one second.”

He reached over you, turning your stuffed animal on the bed to face the wall.

“Logan Howlett, what a gentleman.” You laughed.

“Hey, I’m just protecting their innocence. Now c’mon, keep touching yourself and open that pretty little mouth for me.” He said.

Logan guided himself into your mouth and you took him down to the base of his shaft.

“Fuuuuck babygirl, no one’s ever gone all the way down before.” He groaned, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He bucked his hips against your face as you stroked your clit.

“How the fuck are you not choking on me? You ever sucked cock this big before?”

You shook your head with him still in your mouth, Logan chuckled.

“No? Guess you just got lucky to not have a gag reflex. God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimpered around him at his words, growing close.

“That’s it, keep going for me babygirl, yeah, yeah like that. Make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth.” He said as he throbbed against your tongue.

Your back arched off of the mattress as you felt yourself tip over the edge. Your moans were muffled by Logan’s cock buried deep in your throat.

“Jesus, you moaning like that feels too goddam good.” He grunted, giving one last thrust into your mouth before pulling out.

He watched as your orgasm subsided, the heaving of your chest slowly steadying. He lowered his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them against just the right spot to make you writhe underneath him. He pulled out his fingers, taking them in his mouth and giving a growl.

“I can’t fuckin’ resist, I need you to sit on my face. Just tasting you isn’t enough.”

He moved onto the bed and picked you up, lowering you to straddle his face. His hot breath lingered on you for a second before his mouth made contact with your clit. Having cum already, it wouldn’t take long for him to get you there again. You laced your fingers in his dark hair.

“Oh god, Logan.” You whined as you felt your orgasm build.

“Mmm, fuck.” He growled against your clit.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through you, making you gasp as you came again for a second time. Your grip on his hair tightened as every single wave of pleasure rippled through you, rolling your hips involuntarily on his face.

You panted breathlessly, the only words coming out of your mouth being “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy-“

Logan took your hand in his.

“Hey, hey, easy babygirl. Breathe.”

He picked you up off of his face, lying you down on the bed. He shrugged off his flannel, pulling his white shirt from over his head and slipping his jeans off his legs. He returned his attention to you, lifting up your lower half by your thighs and slipping a pillow under your ass.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

“Makes me able to go even deeper and hit all the right spots. Trust me, I’ve been around for over two centuries which is more than enough time to figure out what feels good.”

“You know, I’ve always had a thing for older men, but you might be pushing it for me, Logan.”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

“But there isn’t a gray hair on me, is there?”

“Yeah, and it’s honestly a shame you don’t age like the rest of us. You’d be damn good looking with some salt and pepper hair.”

“I think Wade said there’s a variant of me like that.”

“Well shit, I got the inferior model?” You teased.

“Watch it babygirl, or I might just have to fuck you hard enough to shut you up.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Only if you want it to be.” He said with a smirk.

Logan sat on his knees and pulled you by your hips to him, your legs against his chest. He pressed the head of his cock against the entrance of your pussy.

“I’ll start slow so it’ll be easier for you take me. Just tell me to stop if it’s too much. Alright?”

“Okay.” You said softly.

“Attagirl.”

He gingerly slid his way in. Despite his attempts to be gentle you still struggled to accommodate him. You winced and drew a sharp breath.

“Shhh, easy babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, but you need to relax if you want this to feel good.”

It was beyond attractive to see this side of him, so soft and affectionate. You knew only certain people had been privy to this. He buried himself to the hilt, pausing to let you adjust.

“I’m gonna start moving. Think you can handle it?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah.”

“Good girl.”

Logan began to thrust at a gentle pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned.

Even though he was going slow it felt like he was ripping you in half, but it felt good, incredibly good. You wanted more, you needed to see how that raw, aggressive nature played out in the bedroom.

“Harder.” You whined.

Logan’s brow furrowed.

“Babygirl, you’re already struggling to take me as it is.”

“I know, but I want you to tear me apart. Fuck me like an animal, Logan.”

You felt him throb inside you.

“Fuck, why didn’t you let me walk in on you sooner?”

Logan increased his pace dramatically, fucking you with an animalistic intensity. By god did it hurt and you loved every second of it. Noises, a mix of pleasure and pain, escaped from your mouth. He cocked a brow at your yelps and whines.

“You doing alright there?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah, h- hurts so good.”

“Goddam babygirl, you really do like it rough, huh? You’re gripping me like crazy. Here, I think this’ll help you relax a little.”

His hand moved to stroke your clit, drawing circles against the delicate, sensitive skin. You bucked your hips, taking his cock further inside you.

“Goddam, look at you, fuckin’ yourself back against me. Tell me how much you love this cock splitting you in half.”

He fucked you even faster, purposefully trying to make it harder for you to speak. All you could manage was a whimper.

“C’mon babygirl, you know I like hearing you talk.” He teased, slowing his pace slightly to let you answer.

“Y- you fe-el i- incredible, b- biggest I’ve e- ever h- had.”

“That’s my girl, so good for me.” He said, resuming his brutal rhythm.

You moaned at Logan’s praise and he felt you tighten around him.

“Oh you like that don’t you? You wanna be my good girl?” He smirked, knowing he’d found your weakness.

“P- please.” You murmured.

“Good, because you’re fuckin’ mine now.”

The sound of Logan’s hips meeting yours reverberated throughout the room. He grunted at every thrust, sliding his cock out until only the tip remained inside and then sharply forcing himself back in again, making you take every single inch. His nails on the hand that wasn’t on your clit dug into your calf.

“Choke me.” You begged.

He let out a deep chuckle.

“Damn babygirl, aren’t you just a little masochist? How could I say no when you’ve been such a good girl for me?”

With one hand still on your clit, Logan wrapped his other around your throat, squeezing it tight. You let out a strained moan.

“Yeah, makes things feel even better, doesn’t it?” He purred.

Between the feeling of Logan’s hand gripping your neck, his fingers stroking your clit, and being fucked hard and fast by a cock thicker than a beer bottle, you felt your orgasm begin to build. Logan was right on the edge as well.

“Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna cum too, babygirl?” He asked, releasing your throat.

“Y- yeah, I’m- oh g- god.” You whined.

“Good girl, cum with me.”

His words were all it took. Your breathing becoming shallow and fast as you felt yourself come undone, pulsing around him. Logan groaned, burying himself deep within you, his hot, thick cum coating your insides.

“Jesus fuuuuuckin’ Christ, you feel so perfect.” He panted as he gave his last few thrusts.

You whimpered as Logan slowly pulled out and laid beside you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. You both lay in silence for a moment, him stroking your back before finally speaking.

“You know, when I offered to have drinks with you last night I thought you’d take the hint. I was really banking on you at least kissing me, before Wade killed the mood and all.”

“I wanted to, I just…” You trailed off.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just what?”

You fidgeted with the hair on his chest.

“I dunno, I just feel like you’re way out of my league. You’re incredibly handsome and I’m… me.”

He gave a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the stupidest goddam thing I’ve ever heard, and that says a lot because we live with Wade. Babygirl, do you not see how fuckin’ gorgeous you are?”

You felt your cheeks turn pink.

“You think so?”

He kissed the top of your head.

“Of course I do, been dreaming of this since I met you. Not gonna lie, wanting you as badly as I did when you were too nervous to even talk to me was kinda torture. There was a few times you almost walked in on me the same way I did with you.”

“O- oh.”

“Yeah, it’s uh… it’s been a while since someone’s made me feel like this. When you live in a world where everyone hates you there isn’t much opportunity for even just casual fucking.”

You looked up at him.

“Sounds lonely.” You said softly.

Logan kissed your forehead.

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re finally talking to me.”

“If you’re referring to what we just did, you’ve got a weird idea of what talking is.”

“Yeah? Then how about we continue our conversation?” He said, turning you over onto your back and kissing his way down your body.

“Very smooth, Logan.”

[notmorbid]

these violent delights.

dialogue prompts from these violent delights by micah nemerever.

i never told you my name.

who puts those awful ideas in your head?

you're forever assuming the worst.

what's that face? you look like you're going to cry.

you're one of those people who worry all the time, aren't you?

i don't worry, i ruminate. they're distinct actions.

nothing made you. you just are.

beautiful things are supposed to hurt.

people tell you you're shy all the time, don't they?

i don't know how i ever got on without you.

a little trouble is a good thing for a young person.

i wasn't born yesterday. i know what kids get up to.

it's good to have guns to stick to.

you could do anything to me and i'd let you.

i'm not ready to be seen. not yet.

i don't need you to treat me respectfully. i'm not made of glass.

tell me you love me, at least. please. i need to know somebody does.

do i look normal? i can't tell if i look normal.

you can get away with anything, as long as you act like an authority on the truth.

don't tell me what i want.

you know you're just about the worst liar i've ever met.

i don't think you've ever felt anything that didn't hurt you.

you're so square, you're a cube.

i just want you to believe me when i tell you you're worth something.

there are limits to what you can expect people to understand, without living it.

you can't fight everybody all the time. you still have to live with them.

i forget how blue the sky can be outside the city.

i'm going to push you off a cliff, you fucking boy scout.

thank you for trusting me with this.

be a kid while you still can.

please believe in the things i try to tell you, instead of the things you think you deserve to be told.

if the sun touched you for even a moment, you'd go up in flames. like a vampire.

your voice changes when you're angry.

what a lonely, dreary thing it is to know the truth.

you never look away, even when your eyes are closed, but i'm never certain you can see what's really there.

tell me you need me. in those words.

can i tell you something? that i'm all but certain you won't believe?

i never lie to you. but sometimes, i wish i could.

you never let me pretend the truth is alright when it isn't.

you have a profound, elusive sadness about you.

you didn't. please tell me you didn't.

you and your awful little games.

why would i bother to grow my own conscience when you're always around to pester me?

you're going to help me escape.

this house is a shadowbox, never meant for human things.

you have no right to stop me, and you're not going to try.

you're sweet, when you want to be.

do you want me to kill ____? i mean it.

it might do you good to be an orphan.

you're just so sincerely creepy.

wealthy people pay handsomely for the privilege of ignoring cries for help.

i've never seen you like that before. not once.

i've decided to learn to be impulsive.

the worst damage humans do isn't rooted in malice, but in thoughtlessness.

there's such a thing as right and wrong. anyone can figure out the difference if they're willing to think for themselves.

there's no part of you i can't see.

i don't want to hurt you. please don't let me.

you're ridiculous, sometimes. but that's alright.

i don't want you right now. go home.

i'm not like you. i don't even have a shape of my own to hold anything else in place.

i'll never matter the way you do, and you know it.

say what you need to say.

if you say the word 'deserve' one more time, i'm driving us off a bridge.

i've been meaning to talk to you about ____.

i'm worried about what you're getting into.

you don't see me. you can't. you never could.

it's your life. you're entitled to make your own mistakes.

i want you to know you deserve better. you don't have to put up with ____.

you scare the hell out of me. you really do.

you look the same way you always have.

i was worried i'd lost you.

i'll take care of you. i don't need you to be brave.

all i want to do is make you happy, and you're the unhappiest person i've ever met.

i would rather be cruel than weak.

i want you to let me be nice to you today. i don't care if you think you deserve it.

this place looks like somewhere in a jigsaw puzzle.

it's always been real for me. every second.

please don't say anything to my mother.

we can't fix it if you don't tell me what happened.

i'll call you when i can stand the sight of you. don't hold your breath.

hiding the truth is still lying.

i thought you'd finally trust me if you knew i'd kill for you.

i'm just as much of a monster as you are.

i was missing part of myself my whole life, until i met you.

righteous fury leaves no space for fear.

you can always talk to me. about anything, okay? i love you no matter what.

you played [game] in school, didn't you?

no one tolerates boredom worse than the idle rich.

someone needs to be looking after you.

you know you can't actually stop me, right?

i want to be able to look at you.

when you need to, you will understand.

i'm only ever early when i'm afraid.

people talk themselves into the strangest things when they want to look impressive.

in the end, there's no difference between trusting someone and underestimating them.

[once-upon-an-animation]

I’m still working my way through Wrath, but I think one thing that continues to irritate me about the way Rick writes Percabeth is that it’s always being re-iterated to us that Percy feels insecure/inadequate regarding his role in this relationship, but we don’t usually see Annabeth worry this much about whether she’s ‘good enough’ for Percy.

On the one hand, you could probably say that it’s her pride that prevents her from worrying…….but I also don’t buy that because Annabeth has been demonstrated to ruminate over her relationships with others and whether they’re going to last. But we’ve never seen her worry about whether she is doing enough to ‘serve’ the relationship; it’s always about what the other person is doing.

I think why this annoys me in particular is because it feels like more missed opportunities for Annabeth to finally tackle her fatal flaw (hubris/pride), learn what it means to actually do some meaningful introspection/self-reflection (a very important part of being a truly wise individual), and make more meaningful demonstrations of humility. I’m not saying she needs to hate herself or anything, but if I can be honest, self-hatred is NOT the definition of humility and it’s disingenuous to treat it as such (for all you people who are inevitably going to complain about “omg11!1!!1 Suggesting that a female character should show humility!!?!?? How sexist!!!1!!1!).

Humility and introspection are important parts of being wise because despite your unwillingness to admit this, sometimes your problems are not always caused by others and/or external factors. Sometimes, your problems are in fact your own fault, or at the very least, some of your behaviors are exacerbating the problem. Sometimes, you’re not doing the best that you could be doing in a relationship, or there are some behaviors that learning/unlearning would benefit the relationship a lot. And it demonstrates a lot of courage and maturity to be able to admit that about yourself.

I bring this up in relation to Percabeth, because I’m a little tired of reading about how Percy always worries about his inadequacies in the relationship, but we never see Annabeth question herself about whether she’s being the best girlfriend she could possibly be. We don’t see any examples of Percy making a new friend who seemingly acts like/questions whether Annabeth is a good match for him. It makes the dynamics of the relationship feel unbalanced, like the responsibility is solely on Percy to service the relationship; Percy does most of the giving, and Annabeth does most of the taking.

When was the last time Annabeth sacrificed something that she wanted to do/say to make Percy happy, the way he often does for her sake? When was the last time that Percy’s traumas and emotional struggles were given front and center spotlight in a conversation of theirs? When was the last time that Annabeth realized that there was something she was doing wrong that was maybe hurtful to Percy, and maybe she should change that behavior? Why is the onus always on Percy to pull it together for the relationship, when his girlfriend has ways in which she could grow too? Why does it often feel like Percy is expected to do most of the emotional legwork?

[kittyoncescribbled]

Check-Mate.

Summary: Mihawk thought he was too old to believe in silly things like love at first sight, but things change;

Word count: 2,453;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-16, AFAB reader;

Author’s note: Hi, guys! This is my first time writing for Mihawk; he might be a little OOC, but I'm still trying to find my footing with him. Feedback would be deeply appreciated. Please reblog/like if you enjoy this!

Previous chapter || Next chapter

You stared down at your plate, trying not to look miserable.

Sanji had outdone himself once again and brought out a dinner that seemed more fit to a king — and you knew it, as you were now a fugitive princess who escaped an evil uncle who wanted to marry you off to any weak man who he could control and, by extension, keep his hold on the throne and power: more specifically, your power, as you had eaten a devil fruit and now has something similar to Midas’ touch. But looking down at the plate in front of you, you couldn't help but notice that it was beautiful, smelled delicious, and you were sure that it tasted heavenly… but it was different.

Not from most of the crew; your plate looked the exact same as the ones in front of Luffy, Usopp, or even Zoro. But Nami and Robin had plates adorned with flowers and beautifully placed garnishes in front of them. It was evident how much time, effort, and appreciation had gone into their presentations.

It was quite common at this point, and you took notice of it almost instantly. Sanji was the one who helped you escape after some of the servants in the castle tr, guiding you by the hand through the streets of your city — the streets you didn't know, as your uncle had kept you hiding inside the guarded walls of the castle since you were a young girl — and into the Thousand Sunny; you chose to go with the strawhats, and now there was a hefty bounty prize to whoever brought you back home alive.

And you couldn't help but fall head over heels for Sanji, the first person ever to show you kindness or to see you as a person, not just someone from the royal family or their entryway into fortune or power. And it was painful to see how differently he treated you when compared to the other girls on the crew or to any pretty woman from the islands you guys visited; you could never accuse Sanji of being rude or mean, but he just treated you the same way he treated the guys or Chopper, and you just sat there ruminating on why would that be — you weren't pretty enough, nice enough, feminine enough?

All of that went through your mind while you stared down at your plate, and you could see the looks from Nami, Usopp, and Robin; they all kind of knew how you felt about Sanji — not that you were able to hide it — and the sadness showing up in your eyes made them empathetic. But it's not like you had openly talked about it with them, so none of them felt comfortable asking you if you were okay.

“Sanji, why is YN's plate different?” Chopper asked sweetly. You felt the cook freeze on the spot and grabbed your fork and knife as if you didn't hear it. “What do you mean, Chopper?” “Well, Nami and Robin’s plates and drinks are always prettier and nicer because they're women, right? So why does Y/N get regular food like the rest of us?”

“It's okay, Chopper,” you said with a smile to the doctor. “It's fine. Sanji's cooking is the best with flowers or without, right?”

“Y-YN, m'sorry, let me take care of it and—” Sanji started, his face beet red, trying to get the plate back, but you grabbed his wrist, startling him. “Don't.”

Your tone was icy and harsh, as they had never heard before, and the shift in the room's atmosphere was noticeable; the tension could be cut with a knife. Embarrassed, you simply grabbed your plate and went back to your dorm, locking the door behind you.

It was now days later, and things were still weird between you and Sanji. Chopper had asked for your forgiveness, but you had repeatedly reassured him that there was nothing to be forgiven. You did your best to avoid Sanji and the others, choosing to spend most of your days on a little spot of the deck Franky had added some stuff for you: a chess table with magnetic pieces so they wouldn’t get knocked over by the constant movement of the boat and a telescope. You still did your chores and helped, but you chose to be in your quarters or play chess alone.

On that specific afternoon, you were doing laundry — the little laundry you had, as you were still a bit uncomfortable buying clothes for yourself, and your old clothes, all frilly lace and flowy dresses, weren’t fit for life in a pirate ship; Robin once chuckled and said that you, always wearing jeans and white button-ups, looked like a cartoon character and Nami had promised she’d take you out for a shopping spree on the next island with good shops — when a commotion started on the deck. Leaving your load of laundry behind, you grabbed your bow and ran to the deck.

Dracule Mihawk stood there like an exotic animal, and you, still holding your bow up, made your way until you were close to Robin. “So… there’s a Cross Guild member on our deck, and no one’s doing anything about it?”

“That’s Zoro’s mentor,” Robin explained with a small chuckle. “And he said there are things he needs to discuss with our captain.”

The small exchange between you and Robin caught Mihawk’s attention, and you froze in your place, unable to react under such an intense gaze. Lowering your weapon, you regained some of your spirit and stood straight, staring right back at his yellow eyes, not backing down when he made his way toward you.

“Your royal highness,” Mihawk said with a courtesy, and, out of habit more than anything else, you presented your hand, which he brought to his lips without ever breaking eye contact. In the corner of your eye, you could see Nami and Robin raising eyebrows and Zoro looking like he was about to combust, but none of that mattered. Luffy showed up on deck, and Mihawk slowly made his way to the captain. After a short exchange of words, Luffy guided the swordsman to somewhere where they could talk a bit more privately, and you relaxed, still next to Robin. From across the deck, Sanji stared at you fiercely and seemed to be biting his lips, but you simply turned your back and returned to your laundry.

Mihawk was far too old to believe in love at first sight, or at least that is what he thought.

He had his fair share of lovers throughout the years, but those were just flings; someone to scratch the itch, if you will. Nothing ever lasted for more than a couple of weeks, and he never bothered to make it last. He was quite content with that, as he very much enjoyed the silence and peace in his life, especially now that neither Zoro nor Perona were there to cause a stir, but he had felt intrigued by you ever since he had read about your escape on the paper; coincidentally he had matters to discuss with Luffy, so he could take a good look on your, and take a good look he did.

Even in regular clothing that seemed too plain for you, you still seemed regal — it was something in your posture and how you held your head high. If you thought he looked out of place as an exotic bird, Mihawk could say the same about you; he could read in your body language that you still felt out of your element — like when you were holding your bow, much more like someone used to hunt for sport than to be in the middle of battle shooting arrows at enemies. The pictures in the papers or wanted posters did you no justice, as they couldn’t capture the expression of longing and sadness in your eyes or the way you bit your lips, unsure of what to do next.

As much as Mihwak would have adored spending more time admiring you, he was there on business, so he excused himself and retreated to discuss some important topics with Luffy. 

And even though he couldn't deny that he looked for you the same way a moth looked for a flame, Mihawk pushed the “love of first sight” idea to the back of his mind. Attraction, definitely; infatuation, maybe. But love?

That wasn’t a possibility.

He wasn't expecting to see you alone on deck when he was preparing to leave. Enjoying the sunshine, you sat in front of a game of chess, seemingly trying to understand what the next move would be. Without making a sound, Mihawk walked until he was standing behind you, and, without saying a word, he reached his arm and moved one of the white bishops.

Startled, you turned over on your chair and looked up at the swordsman. “That was the best next move. What to do next?” he asked, looking attentively into your eyes. You stuttered for a moment, eyes darting everywhere while trying to think of the right answer. “Come on, take your time, Your Royal Highness. There is no right or wrong answer here.” Mihawk said with a low chuckle while taking the seat directly in front of you and putting his sword down close to him.

“Yes, there is,” you retorted, holding your chin with one hand and tapping on the table with the other. “If I make the wrong move, that's a check. And there's no need to use titles here, please. Outside the realm, I'm not ‘royal highness’; I'm just Y/N.”

“As you wish, miss Y/L/N.” Mihawk felt very happy with himself when he saw a light blush creeping up your neck and ears. “But tell me, why would you be here by yourself?”

“My apologies, sir, but why are you sitting here, asking me this? You don't seem the type to enjoy small talk,” you asked uncertainly, not trying to be rude but genuinely intrigued.

“I am merely curious about you, miss Y/L/N. You're a runaway princess in a pirate ship with a crew famous for getting themselves in trouble. You are an interesting person, and I want to know more about you.” The tips of your ears turned into a brighter shade of red.

“Ah, there was a situation the other day. And I'm feeling a little embarrassed about it, so I’d much rather stay by myself.”

“Just… A situation?”

“Yeah, I’m not about to start sharing the owes of my pathetic love life with a man I don’t know,” she said with a bitter smile.

“Would it have something to do with the cook, who is over there looking like he wants to kick the lights out of me?” Y/N rolled her eyes and made her move on the chess board. “Just… ignore him. Whatever happened, it’s unimportant”.

Mihawk simply acquiesced and made his move on the chess board. Eventually, you two fell into a comfortable silence while playing. You kept your focus on the chess board, attentively studying and thinking about your next move, but Mihawk was studying you.

You were clearly not comfortable in your own skin yet; your clothes, as simple as they were, showed that you were not sure what style would suit you best or that you, under the thumb of your uncle from a young age, still had to figure out what clothes you liked best. Your hair, pulled back in a ponytail, probably reached your waist, but maybe you had no idea how to style it. You were someone being free for the first time in your life, 

“Would you like to drink something? I wouldn’t get you the boat fuel that Zoro likes to drink, but I do have some red wine in my cabin,” she asked tentatively. Mihawk nodded and watched as she walked away, groaning internally as the blond cook took her place. 

“What are you doing with Y/N?”

Mihawk stared down at the blond and tilted his head, feigning ignorance; you didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had transpired between you and the cook, and he wasn’t one to be intrusive into others' personal lives. “Playing chess and having a glass of wine. Why?”

Sanji pressed his lips into a thin line, grabbing the chess board so hard his knuckles turned white. “You’re trying to flirt with her? Romance her? Get laid?”

“I am merely getting to know the lady. That’s all. She is quite a beautiful woman, though, and I believe that if something were to happen, she wouldn’t need to ask for permission from any of you. And I also believe this conversation is over,” Mihawk said with a voice smooth as silk, his hand gliding over his sword’s handle — a silent but powerful warning. Sanji looked in the direction of your steps, seeing you coming over with two glasses and a wine bottle.

He glanced at Mihawk, radiating rage, but got up and went back to the kitchen.

You took back your sit and poured over the wine for the both of you, completely ignoring Sanji and pretending you didn’t see him. With your wine glass in hand, you pulled your knee close to your chess and mulled over your next move. The two of you again fell under a silent spell, sipping on the wine you had brought out and waiting for the others' turn to be over. You tried your best not to stare but managed to steal a couple of glances at the warlord, still wondering why such a man would be spending his time at the deck of the Thousand Sunny, playing chess. It felt good to spend time with someone who didn’t look at you pitifully, though, and it had been a long time since you had a chess partner, so you weren’t going to complain. 

“Ah! Check-mate!” you said, triumphant, your lips parting in a bright smile while you picked the king from Mihawk’s side of the chessboard.

“Well done, miss Y/L/N,” Mihawk had a gentle look and something on his lips that, to someone who knew him quite well, could be considered a small smile. “I do have to go; I am afraid I might have overextended your crew’s generosity by overstaying, but after my discussion with your captain, it is my understanding that you will have to stop by my island. It would be my pleasure to have a rematch.” Mihawk stood up and, again, reached for your hand.

“Of course, sir,” you said as he kissed your knuckles before grabbing his things and leaving.

Sanji watched all of this from afar, seething.

[minimomoe]

Hi just wanted to let you know I LOVEDDD Not Just Neighbors but I have a question does reader know about Logan and variant reader in his past universe and if she doesn’t then who would tell her and how would she react?would she be understanding?or would she feel like Logan’s only with her to fill in variant readers place? (I don’t know if your requests are open so you can ignore this if not or if you don’t feel comfortable answering :D)

For the sake of keeping it a short (I tried my hardest but ik it's long lol) oneshot reader understands that she might have meant something to Logan in his universe but doesn't press on it since he seldom talks about his past. I kinda wrote that whole story on a whim so I didn't think too hard about it. Since you asked so nicely, here's an alternate excerpt of how that realization could've went: wrd ct: 1.9k tags: a little angsty but that's all

Not a Replacement

"Wade you gotta tell me. We're on better terms now, but why did Logan hate me so much? I hardly ever talked to him but when he sees me his face scrunches up like he smells shit. Do I smell like shit? Be honest."

Wade's nose went straight to the crook of your neck and you rolled your eyes before shoving him away. "What?! You said to be honest. You smell great though," he shrugged.

"Okay, so what was it?"

"What is what?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Your patience was running thin and you didn't have time for Wade's games. "What was the reason? He's your roommate, you gotta know something."

You were sitting at Wade's dining table and you saw the food in his mouth slow to snail speed. His eyes darted to you for only a second but it was all you needed.

"Wade," you said in a warning tone. "Do you know something?"

"I know a lot of things. For instance, I know that you are the best damn cook in this whole apartment building, you're insanely gorgeous, you hate when people keep secrets, and did I mention how really fucking pretty you are?"

"You better tell me or so help me god every plate I bring you will be under seasoned and burnt to a crisp."

"Okay fine!" He dropped his sandwich onto his plate and crossed his arms over his chest. You scooched your chair in closer, finally ready to hear an explanation. "You better not tell anyone you found out from me or steak knives is gonna cut my dick off again."

"Again?" You gave him a concerned look.

"Don't try to change the subject, missy. The truth of the matter is that our resident honey badger might like you a lot more than he lets on. I am risking so much by telling you this."

"From my understanding you can't die, so how much are you really risking?"

"You don't live with him, smartass," he grumbled. Wade scratched the back of his neck, suddenly a lot more serious than you usually see him and he looked almost... apologetic. You straightened up when he hesitantly opened his mouth again. "I explained the different timelines, right? Logan isn't from our time line, I plucked from a different one and tricked him into helping me. The thing is, these timelines can be very similar to each other."

You understood it well, or as much as you could, from the first time Wade explained it to you. Time traveling, anchor beings, Paradox and Cassandra Nova all seemed too ridiculous to be true, but you knew Wade wouldn't lie about such a thing. Plus you know about mutants and Wade's regenerative powers. Of course crazier things existed.

"I'm picking up what you're putting down. What does this have to do with Logan's apprehension towards me?"

Wade sighed, running his hand over his face. "It's not apprehension, okay? Look, I noticed it too. The way that he acted like he might explode if you come too close. He knew you, and I mean knew you, personally— intimately, before and now you don't even recognize his face. I know that feels fucking horrible."

Wade stared down at his sandwich somberly like he was speaking from experience. You fell silent, ruminating on his words.

Intimately. You have never met anyone like Logan before, but he already knew you. There was nothing you could even compare this to. You slowly got up from your seat and patted Wade on the shoulder. Your mood was dampening at the new information.

"Uh, thanks man."

"This is why I didn't want to tell you. I don't blame you but you're all weird now," he groaned. "You're not a replacement. She could've been entirely different. She could've be Catholic."

He was expecting a smirk from you at the very least but got nothing. "That doesn't really help."

Wade watched you slump out of his apartment to head back to yours without another word. He could literally see the cloud of gloom forming over your head and he groaned dramatically.

"Canadians are supposed to be nice people. I should know! Leave it to the Australian to ruin that for us."

---*---

Logan could smell the difference in your mood around him. You were on edge, giving him sneaking side eyes when you thought he wasn't looking and nervously biting on your thumbnail. Something was bothering you, something pertaining to him, and you didn't know how to bring it up.

It would be hypocritical of him to drag out the issue with you, but he never played fair before.

"If you stare at me any harder bub, you're gonna put a hole in my head."

He offered to take you out to get dinner instead of staying in. It was nothing fancy, just a small Indian restaurant that he found on a whim, but he remembered you saying that it was one of your favorite ethnic foods to eat. The short walk back to home was just to kill more time to spend with you, but you were hardly saying anything.

You pinched your bottom lip between your two fingers, rolling it over slowly. "It's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all."

The dismissive answer did nothing for Logan. He gave you a hard stare that you didn't return. Instead you walked a few paces ahead of him, leaving him behind.

"Hey!" Logan called out to you, grabbing your arm. You reeled back, shaking him off and pursed your lips together. The sudden coldness wafting off of you made him panic internally. Did he say something he shouldn't have? Did you suddenly get tired of keeping things friendly. Was he reading you all wrong? All those questions burned the back of his throat but he rather ask the obvious one.

"I've seen you tired and this ain't it. What's the problem?"

Finally you returned his gaze with an cautionary look. "What really happened between us Logan? In the past, or a different timeline, or whatever the fuck. How much history is between us?"

The question knocked Logan over like a mack truck. This was not the type of conversation he wanted to have with you in the middle of the street with cars honking and passersby brushing past, but you were standing your ground. Logan ran a weary hand through his hair then rested it on his hip. If he wanted to make this work with you, he'd have to be honest with himself.

“Did Wilson run his mouth—“

“Forget about him. I’m asking you.”

He stared at you dead on, looking into your eyes that were uncertain of him. "You left me.”

You stiffened up, the statement making you falter.

"And I'm not saying that to make you feel bad. You gave me chance after chance to get my shit together and I didn't. I was breaking your heart and you didn't want to stick around to watch me crash."

Logan sat down on the nearest street bench. The headlights of oncoming traffic blinded his visage with a pure bright white before turning. He could hear your pleas from time's past, your dissapointed tone. He could hear the screams of his x-men, his family that he left behind.

"You visited me after they... after the humans killed the x-men. You saw the damage that was done and you hated me for it."

Logan felt the thud of you sitting on the other side of the bench. He didn't look at you, now taken with his memories, but you were no longer on the run. You wanted to hear his side that he never got to tell anyone.

"They were like family to you too. Ororo, Charles, Jean, Scott. You loved them, so when you found out that they were gone and I was still alive..." Logan's voice trailed off and his head hung low. "I was never a hero. Or a good guy. I was a selfish asshole who left when things got tough. I couldn't save my relationship with you, or save the people I owe my life to because the only thing I'm good at is destroying things. Then I come to this world and you givin' me this bright eyed, hopeful look and I couldn't handle it."

New York City has never been known as a quiet city but there was an eerie silence that ensued. It was like everybody was holding their breath, silently listening to Logan’s darkest confessions.

"I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. What I did before keeps me up at night, eats me from inside. But being around you again... shit, it reminds me that I didn't lose everything.”

A long beat of silence stretched after Logan's words. You stared into on coming traffic too, unable to form words. You held your arms together, the cool breeze of the night chilling your bones.

“Fuck,” you sighed, a wave a guilt washing over you. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

He shook his head. “You have the right to know.”

“I just made you spill your guts out on this public bench because I was worried that I was some freaky look a like for somebody that you used to know.” You put your head in your hands and groaned. “I can’t speak for past me because she isn’t me… but I am glad to have you here in this timeline, Logan. If it’s any consolation, it seems like we were always supposed to find each other.”

Logan couldn’t be more grateful for that fact. He never sought out to use you to fix some broken piece in him. It just happened that if given the chance, he would choose to love you every single time. Given all his mistakes, loving you was never a wrong choice.

You scooted closer to Logan’s still body, closing the distance until your thigh was pressed against his. You leaned over until your head was resting on his shoulder, soaking up his body heat. Neither of you said anything for a while. You didn’t need to.

Logan’s voice travelled through your body when he spoke again. It was gruff, making him clear his throat before starting over. “They had a nickname for me according to the TVA. They called me 'the Worst Logan'.”

“Do you believe that?” You peered up at him. It was that same look that made him want to run for the hills. You were disarming without even trying. He felt naked, unable to hide his beating heart that you held in your hands. After a thick swallow he was able to answer.

“Not as much. I’m better than before.”

You nodded, content with his response. “And you’ll keep on getting better. The TVA doesn’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

You slipped your hand under Logan’s that rested on his thigh and he quickly squeezed it like a lifeline.

“I’m not subbing you in for anyone, bub. Plus, past you was never this sappy,” he joked.

“Oh fuck off,” you chuckled. “But thank you. For telling me everything.”

“You’re easy to talk to,” he shrugged.

You and Logan remained on the bench for a little while longer. The sleepless city continued to hum along, cars honking and people talking, and you sat there absorbing it all, hands still entwined together.

thank you so much for the request! sorry it took so long, I was trying to balance angst and good ending. Check out Not Just Neighbors ("the worst" Logan x Reader) for more context! I'd love to hear y'all thoughts xx!!

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter

[islandofsages]

Hi, can I ask the dorm leaders with a student (male) who is extremely good in all academic subjects, ranking among the top 5 in the test rankings, but is extremely stupid in all other factors, for example if someone tries to bully with him, he had politely asked the person to apologize.

characters: the housewardens x male reader

tags: platonic, fluff + crack, imagines format; azul mention in riddle's, riddle mention in azul's, jamil mention in kalim's, vargas mention in vil's, ortho mention in idia's

warnings: alarming stupidity nothing

author's notes: this is such a fun prompt omg i love dumbasses

Riddle Rosehearts

He finds your grades quite impressive - though you can’t cut through his and Azul’s rankings, you manage to land the third place at least

He admires and respects your diligence in studying; if you’re a Heartslabyul student, he’ll consider you a great candidate for the seat of housewarden (or at least vice position)

But then he stumbles upon you one day doing… something? What are you doing?

You’re… crouching in front of a bug. Okay well, maybe you’re studying it

Upon closer inspection though, it looks like you’re… crying? Are you mourning??

The bug’s not even dead. It’s just lying down. You’re seriously mourning a bug that’s actually alive.

He doesn’t want to think it nor does he actually believe you’re like this. But he feels you’re being really stupid at the moment

Then he thinks that again. When you’re doing another stupid thing. Yet you continue to dominate the class rankings

He’s confused. Really confused. 

He stops doubting the duality of man because of you.

Leona Kingscholar

He thinks you’re not half-bad for a herbivore (or well, if you’re a beastman, good for you too)

If you’re a member of Savanaclaw, he’s grateful to have one more guy who can contribute to the decreasing of the dropout rates

That is, until he sees you being cornered by what seems to be a group of bullies

He sighs tiredly at the thought of having to break up a fight again and walks over to you guys, fully expecting you to be in some kind of trouble

But… you’re scolding the bullies instead? And they actually seem apologetic

Did you really ask a group of bullies to apologize for trying to bully you?

He’s unsure if you’re the oblivious one here or the bullies; you’re supposed to feel victimized. Or maybe the bullies are so bad at bullying they don’t affect you in the least??

He doesn’t know what to make of this. But he supposes as long as you don’t make any trouble for him, he doesn’t give a damn

Then he sees more bullies try to get you to give up your wallet to them

Okay, maybe he’ll give at least two damns.

Azul Ashengrotto

A worthy contender to his and Riddle’s rankings? People like you don’t just come by every day

Definitely considers you a valuable asset of some sort… or at least a valuable friend!

So of course, he’d like to interview you on how you got to this level, definitely no other ulterior motives at all

You two sit down in the Mostro Lounge one day, everything is pleasant and comfortable, and you’re just chilling. He starts with a simple question: how do you study to get such good grades?

You ruminate the question for a minute, thinking hard, when you eventually come to the conclusion

“I mean. I just study like the normal person does. Five minutes before the exam itself, I’ll run through whatever notes I have.”

…What?

He’s not sure if you’re actually really stupid to study five minutes before an exam or really smart that you can ace exams with just five minute study sessions

He continues to interview you and he discovers more about how much of a dumbass you actually are but he endures it just for the sake of knowing your actual secrets

You better watch your back.

Kalim Al-Asim

He looks up to you so much, he practically begs you to tutor him so he doesn’t bother Jamil as much 

So you do, just for the hell of it and maybe because of the money too

And it works! He’d come running to you, excitedly showing you his grades from the last exam and you’re genuinely proud of his improvement

He likes running up to you either way - and one day when he does, he runs into you… reading a book upside down?

“Oh, hey Kalim. You know, I found this book one day and I thought I’d give it a read but I can’t understand a single thing…”

He wants to say something. Specifically about you reading said book the wrong way (literally)

…But what if you’re right? Maybe it is meant to be read upside down and you’re just not understanding it because it’s in some ancient language?

You two go to Jamil for once since he seems to be as proficient, if not more, in ancient magic than the both of you

You were excited at the idea that there’s still new stuff out there you have yet to discover

Needless to say though, your excitement dies the moment Jamil finishes listening to your explanation and you two become the victim of his two-hour lecture.

Vil Schoenheit

You’ve gained his respect. A rare honor from the Fairest Queen himself, you think

He would consider you an equal… if it weren’t for the fact of, well, you’re pretty oblivious in literally everything else

He’ll never forget the day where your natural stupidity outshone your class ranking… because it involved Vil himself

You were in a joint PE class together (or if you’re classmates then just a regular class) and it gave both of you the opportunity to talk to each other a bit

It’s a nice little conversation until you say-

“Also… what’s Vargas’ last name anyway?”

Vil blinked once. Then twice. What did you just ask him?

Vargas. Is the last name. His full name is Ashton Vargas. It’s pretty common knowledge considering how much the guy himself says it. He relays that information to you

You let out a dragged out “Oh” and nodded understandingly. Oh, you were being genuine.

Now he doesn’t want to assume from just one interaction but every other interaction with you just proves his point - and the thing is he actually finds it kind of amusing.

Idia Shroud

Wow, someone who’s almost as prodigious as he is, how impressive (he’s being half-sarcastic, half-genuine here)

It is somewhat difficult to find some intelligent life in NRC sometimes. But then you end up being one of them anyway (yet also not really?)

Like you’re always in the top 5 when it comes to exams but then he sees you doing stuff like what you did yesterday…

He was outside for once, taking a walk since Ortho insisted, and he bumps into you on the main street

He didn’t think twice about what you were doing; you were merely staring up at the King of Beast’s statue, finger under your chin, eyes squinted. It’s obvious you were deep in thought

Until he walked by you, hearing you talk to yourself

“...What kind of animal is he anyway? A cat? A tiger?? A panther???”

??? Is it not obvious???

He debated on actually telling you what kind of animal the King of Beasts was but… somehow it’s funnier to leave you in the dark like that

He’ll never get over how you keep calling the King of Beasts a panther, mainly because it riles the Savanaclaw students up.

Malleus Draconia

You’re a curious little thing to him - he wonders how you’ve come to know so many things

Or at least, seem so… you may ace your exams but he comes to notice that it’s not consistent across all boards

He just got back from touring Ramshackle’s exterior for the umpteenth time when he sees you chilling in the Diasomnia lounge

You are talking to another student, which is normal and all, but your response makes him do a double take

“I just think they shouldn’t put mushrooms in mushroom soup! And not make it taste like mushrooms! It just has to look and feel like thick soup!”

But… those are what make mushroom soup… mushroom soup.

He doesn’t even feel that strongly towards mushroom soup! Why is he trying to defend mushroom soup??

It’s not outright stupid but… it certainly is a bold take that could be a pipeline to be dumb

Malleus tries not to judge; you have your qualities and flaws that make you special

But when you bring your complaint to the cafeteria staff, that’s where he draws the line and stops you for the sake of everyone’s sanity.

[cobragardens]

Just finished a S1 rewatch and am ruminating on things that stood out...

The first thing Aziraphale does as soon as International Express have collected the artefacts and he and Crowley are done with the whole Armageddoff business is take Crowley's hand on the Oxford London bus. And the very first thing thing Aziraphale does as soon as he and Crowley have established that Heaven and Hell will "leave [them] alone...for a while" is ask Crowley to go to lunch with him at the Ritz. Like he told Crowley in 1967 he hoped they would "perhaps someday" be able to do in a conversation that was about the status of their relationship.

The very moment he feels it's safe enough, Aziraphale goes faster, in a way that both S1 and S1 establish and Crowley understands as romantic. Twice in a row in the space of 24 hours.

So he's not waiting for Crowley to move them forward. Aziraphale knows what he wants with Crowley, and he immediately reaches for it the moment it's in view.

Which means not only does something happen between 1941 and 1967 (when, we suspect, "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square becomes diegetic) that causes Aziraphale to slow both of them down, but something happens to slow them down between 2019 and 2024, too.

The spouses make a decision, after holding hands and after dining at the Ritz and after hearing their song played there* that despite what they both want, the closest they should get to each other before the superpowers start back on their bullshit is to "not really" pretend they're not a team.

Both of them are aware of that decision and abide by it for 5 years: the bookshop remains (technically) Aziraphale's and the Bentley remains (technically) Crowley's and their lives remain (technically) separate. The fact that the ineffable kiss is such a huge deal for them both says to me that kissing isn't something they're doing on the regular. The way Crowley reacts when Aziraphale touches him in the pub says that even casual, friend-like touching isn't something they're doing either, at least not publicly.

And when Nina makes it clear to Crowley that the romantic nature of his relationship with Aziraphale is apparent to even a casual (human) observer, Crowley freaks right the fuck out, afraid he has revealed as much to Aziraphale's vindictive, murdery boss.

So it's obvious why they make that decision: a lot of very powerful people want to hurt them both, and the very best way to hurt a person is to hurt someone they love deeply.

But how did they come to that decision? What happened after 2019? Did they both understand their clasped hands on the bus and that meal at the Ritz (that night at Crowley's flat) to be a fleeting celebration? Was there an event that made them both afraid again? Or did they just have a conversation and come to a new arrangement? If the latter, which spouse started that conversation? Because Aziraphale's actions at the end of S1 and at the cotillion ball and Crowley's panic about their love being clockable suggest that, despite his reputation as the one who goes faster, it could just as easily have been Crowley as Aziraphale who slowed them down again.

*played on the piano by a woman's hands like the hands of God shuffling cards for Her next trick

[yangsharperavery]

my carmy/sydney related thoughts on season 2

i think when digesting this show, it's done more easily when we see who carmy and sydney are as people and how they bring that beingness to their dynamic.

it's interesting to see the takes from people who are troubled by what they saw in this season in terms of their relationship.

i personally thought there was so much fascinating groundwork that was laid.

we knew when molly gordon was cast they were likely trying to introduce a love interest for carmy.

i was not shocked, i was not surprised. i literally expected it.

doesn't mean i wasn't rolling my eyes but i was well aware of what function she would play within the narrative.

but the writing is so sharp that there are a million subtle elements of carmy's character, and what we know about him up to this point, including what was illuminated by the christmas episode.

let's first talk about carmy's choices and behavior where it relates to claire vs sydney and the restaurant.

we know that carmy is awkward, isn't incredibly relationally experienced and has sacrificed everything for his career and specific level of skill.

he'd just been ruminating on expanding his experiences as expressed in the al-anon meeting.

we know this man is intensely grief-stricken and also that he's battling his own mental health.

we also know he's literally been bred from chaos and emotional tumult.

even him not going to his own brother's funeral makes so much sense after that christmas episode.

he couldn't stand to witness what that type of grief had done to his already deteriorating mother.

so he's trying to conceptualize fun.

notice he wasn't trying to conceptualize love or relationships or a partner.

it was literally presented and integrated as fun.

so he runs into this girl he used to a have a crush on and even then, he's not sold because he knows himself, he knows his priorities, his propensities toward self sabotage, etc so he gives her a wrong number.

yet she persists.

so to me, this may seem like a sign to him to give this a chance, do some exterior exploration of something outside of the kitchen and outside of his career and outside of his own neurosis.

so he's just going with the flow. trying to be "normal". not really knowing the content or context of anything. another reason why he wasn't even calling claire his girlfriend.

claire even brings up the fact that they'd hung out so much but didn't actually talk.

which is SPOT on because the audience only actually ever sees them talking about their careers or what they were like as kids/teenagers.

but you know who carmy DOES talk to? hmm, more on that later.

so claire is symbolic of this thing that was pleasant when he was younger, when he was less of this grown conglomerate of anxiety and disarray and sorrow. a part of him that's separate from all of his current worry and fixations and dysregulation.

him saying he loves her so much and that he thinks she's so great actually rings hollow because we, the audience, didn't actually get to see when and where that level of specific emotion or intensity occurred.

so off rip i don't believe him. i don't think about it in the context of if or when he and sydney explore anything, because it feels patently untrue to me.

and completely separate from sydney.

it's not earned. it's not rooted. it's not tacitly valid.

it's fine. it's a good time. it's some laughs and conversation and sex and a nice, normal person he has fond, nostalgic memories of.

and i think it's written that way on purpose!

so him professing this to other people feels like this way to continue digging a hole of his own distraction, his absence, his lack of attention to detail.

i completely understand the frustration that many feel about interpreting this like carmy was essentially choosing claire over sydney.

carmy was trying to have an unfamiliar and different experience and didn't have the depth perception, the self awareness and the internal regulation to recognize he was doing it to the detriment of something so deeply and irrevocably important to him.

as soon as sydney brought it up, he got defensive but then moments later recognized his errors and apologized.

she told him she didn't want to share his attention.

he told her she was absolutely correct and that she deserved his full focus.

what's fascinating about this part is they aren't even explicitly talking about the restaurant.

she says "me" and "i", he says "you".

uh. wow.

now even in the context of JUST the restaurant this is saying ALOT here.

him instantly apologizing and agreeing with her requests means a substantial amount.

carmy isn't an ass because he stood sydney up for the palate cleanser. or even because he went absent when he shouldn't have.

carmy is deeply troubled and wounded and suffering and he was grappling for something else to feel or do or think about besides what he's ALWAYS thought about and done and fixated on.

that's why he's unreliable, that's why he's haphazard and emotionally or energetically messy. he's coping.

that's why he knows he makes mistakes all the time. because he feels like he's a screwup in a lot of specific ways in his life so he's used to it.

he's not being malicious or cruel or even unkind to sydney.

and this isn't an excuse. it's a reason. it's what all the information we have about him up to this point is providing us.

and yes, his timing is godawful.

but he trusts this person so implicitly because he knows how talented and capable she is.

carmy does not know HOW to be a partner, of any kind. where would he have learned that? where would that have been modeled for him?

"this is what you wanted originally and i'm giving it to you."

so let's transpose the way carmy and claire are presented with how carmy and sydney are together.

he literally can't WAIT to hear what sydney has to say. about literally anything.

at any given time.

"say more please."

all he wants to do is listen to her talk. he wants to know everything about her. the personal stuff too, almost especially.

he listens to her so closely. in the first or second episode she loses her train of thought and he repeats everything she just said.

i don't even think it was restaurant related.

he brings up her mother not once, but twice.

he feels like he should have known that sydney lost her.

he wants to pour into and believe in her because he does. he already does.

he's ready to apologize to her because he knows what a mess he can be and often is.

he knows what his anger can do. he knows how he was conditioned and raised in the industry and he doesn't want that at all for her, least of all from him.

especially after she walked out last season.

he's hyperaware of it. he calms down instantly both times she does the sign for sorry that HE taught her.

he has this propulsion to NEED to know what's happening with her in the very moment something occurs.

he did it last season when she quit on the spot and he kept trying to talk to her when she was leaving.

he did it this season when she was frustrated and trying to say goodnight after carmy was actively telling everyone goodnight and to go home, yet he tried to talk to her when she was leaving.

"what?"

"i'm saying goodnight."

he was repeatedly ushering everyone out but because of the look on her face, carmy's like wait, "what's that about, what's happening?"

he can't stand it!

same with them outside last season when he brought her food and asked what was wrong.

if something is up with her, he reacts immediately.

if she's peeved, he wants to know why right away, he wants to know what to do to make it better, how to approach it, what to say, he goes out in search of that information in the moment it's happening.

sydney is his soft place.

he feels very anchored and tethered to her and i believe she feels the same with him.

sydney is his respite. his peace. the thought of her literally calms and stills him.

her being energetically seats him.

we saw it penetrate his seismic and consistent panic in real time.

that was clearly displayed for all of us to witness.

he doesn't want to be cruel or unkind or anything other than present and communicative with her.

i'd venture to say he actually doesn't want anything more than that, besides maybe the restaurant to succeed.

now sydney is in her "i have something to prove" era.

she is so driven and so determined but she's also a realist and is inundated and surrounded by all this proof that what she's doing may be foolhardy.

at the very least, it's incredibly risky. it's a jump.

and someone deeply ambitious and creative and tuned in and focused like sydney has such fear of failure.

because she knows what it often means for someone like her.

that's why she overextends herself so continuously.

she's often had to and she thinks it gets her closer to the opposite of failure.

she was not only aware of the gaps carmy's absence was leaving but also planning this tasting menu with a MILLION things on it because something was gonna be the star because it MUST.

and i think the carmy absence flares a bit of abandonment as well, like he's left her in a lurch.

she has feelings about that.

she finds out why he did, and TRIES not to have feelings about that.

that's confusing and she's already beyond stressed out so she tries to stuff it.

her success is so tied to her identity because she's worked so hard to get where she is and still feels like she's not where she wants to be.

so she wrestles with worthiness and worry and the financial climate of affability for restaurants. she's riddled with what if she can't hack it?

she has evidence of that being true in the past.

she has evidence of her past failures and those are what keep her up at night, not the infinite possibilities of her future successes.

and that's also why she picked carmy.

because she was always going to pick the best.

she was always going to follow the career and moves of the standout in the industry.

of the person that made the best meal she's ever had.

so if he's anal retentive or jumpy or doesn't call about changing the structural elements of their restaurant while it's happening, she deals with it because she picked him.

she chose him. and then he chose her.

(and then she lightweight chose him again when she came back)

so that's why when they're talking he so often checks in by looking her in the face, scanning her expression. he instantly picks up on something being off or wrong or him being "shitty".

or why when they're under a damn table, despite being peeved or annoyed with his disappearing acts, she lets out the most vulnerable, softest admissions about the perceived necessity of her contribution and future failure.

or why he responds with "i couldn't do it without you" so instantly, so rapidly, it's like it's etched in him. that's the quickest response he'd given to anything she said to him the entire season, she barely got the words fully out before he was verbally soothing her.

then he STAMPS this by saying "i wouldn't WANT to do this without you."

there was such an unexpectedly, viscerally aching quality to that exchange.

it's honestly searing.

i'm sorry are these wedding vows or are we talking about opening a damn restaurant?

or the way he says "you love taking care of people" to her when she talks about making sugar food.

that's also a stellar mirrored moment because i've seen a few people, i believe @eatandsleepwell is one, talk a lot about how that's one of carmy's main drivers and internal tenants.

they see so much of themselves in each other.

the buried parts, the unknown parts, the odd parts.

the parts they wanna work on. the parts they wanna exalt.

they are so similar. they are also quite different.

they have reflected one another in the narrative since s1 ep1.

they exist so flawlessly within the others interstices.

she wordlessly hands him pepto for his stomach.

he tells her he won't let her fail.

the pulsing undercurrent of sydney and carmy is pretty fucking palpable.

there's people on social media who weren't convinced or didn't ship them last season that have suddenly completely seen the vision.

whether the writers actually go there or not remains to be seen.

i don't necessarily trust that they will or won't to be honest because i know there are so many moving pieces and variables and factors.

ships get bypassed and messed up all the time.

i don't watch any shows for ship guarantees but i know how writer's rooms work.

i'd venture to bet that at least 1/3 of that room DOES have an interest in seeing something happen between carmy and sydney, (maybe even 1/2).

or at the very least the option to have it explored.

different people write different episodes, the showrunner/creator can scratch or add whatever.

scripts are TIRELESSLY edited and shortened.

yet there is alot that makes the final cut that points to the potent carmy and sydney marrow.

him giving her the captain reigns before they served for the first time, her saying 'let it rip'.

to me, sydney walked into that failing sandwich shop with a mission that day, they locked eyes and immediately fused.

something happened to the both of them in that moment and they largely don't even realize or can adequately reckon with its magnitude yet.

[perfctvelvet]

Megan Fox fics plssssssss

Last Call; Megan Fox/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, slight infidelity (reader is dating someone but not exclusive), semi-public sex, D/s elements, praise and teasing, oral sex (Megan receiving), boot riding

Being one of the few bars in the town with a 4am liquor license made Aire one of the more popular bars around. It was somewhat upscale, but not completely a high-end bar. Megan has been working behind the bar for almost a year now, but this isn't her first bartender rodeo. When it came to last call she always had to call one of the security guards to come get the hanger-ons who thought they still had a chance to pick someone up for the night.

Tonight was no different. Last call was announced and some people began to slink out while others stayed. It was now Saturday morning, and the usual crew of hanger-ons were still sitting at the bar, trying to get in one more drink before they were forced out. One person stood out like a sore thumb though: you.

Megan has never noticed you before and she considers herself quite talented with remembering names, faces, and stories. It's not like it never has happened before, but it was rare to see a woman sitting at the bar alone for hours until the final call. She's been watching you all night, but not in a creepy way. She is often curious and she is curious about you. You didn't look particularly sad, but it was rare that anyone who sits at the bar alone for hours until close wasn't ruminating over something.

"Hey," she called out to you, instantly grabbing your attention. "Did you hear it was last call? Do you need anything?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm okay."

You thought the conversation was going to end right there and then, but she walked your way and stopped right in front of you. She rests her hands on the bar and looks at you until you look back at her. You felt a little displaced. The bar is not your usual choice for a night alone so you weren't used to this. Was she trying to get you to leave? You were about 1 of 15 people still inside. The only sound in the room was low chattering and the sound of glasses being cleaned and polished.

"Do you always sit at bars by yourself?"

"Never, but the day I'm having -- well had -- seems fitting."

Some would call Megan nosy, she called it great customer service. Hundreds of faces came in and out of here every single week and someone always had some sort of story. Happy ones, sad ones, bizarre ones; Megan has heard them all. She always found people's actions and the whys behind them to be so fascinating. If she had gone to college she probably would've studied psychology, but she found standing behind the bar and hearing people talk to be more fulfilling.

"What kind of day was it?"

"It's not that interesting."

"I'm not really concerned with how much it's going to wow me. I hear enough crazy stories in one day, that I don't mind the stories that people may think will dull me. So, what kind of day was it?"

You looked around to see where everyone was. The other bartender was at the far end and the closest person to the two of you was six seats away. It was unlikely that anyone was going to hear or care about what you had to say about your day.

"I'm starting to see this girl and she was talking about what she wants in bed, and it feels like she was describing someone who was the complete opposite of me."

"What do you mean?"

The sex stories patrons told weren't scant, but it was rare for someone to admit that they may or may not be lacking in the bedroom. You seemed so sweet, and a little shy, to Megan so your honesty was brave to her. However, she wasn't prepared for what you had to say next.

"She wants me to be submissive in the bedroom and...and I've never been that!"

Megan always does her best to keep an open mind yet here you are insinuating that you like to be the dominant one in bed and she's shocked. Maybe under that sweet demeanor was someone mean who could fuck their lover hard and right.

"Well, when she says submissive, does she mean hardcore stuff like restraints and whips?"

"No? At least I don't think so? We haven't explored all of that yet, we haven't even fucked yet! I used to consider myself to be more flexible and at the whims of my girlfriends, but I think I'm a little jaded by my ex-girlfriend, y'know? She was a little bit of a pillow princess, which I didn't mind, but it's been a long time since I've been vulnerable to let someone have control of me like that."

"Well is that what you want?"

"I don't know? I'm not opposed to it. I guess it just feels like another mental shift. This must be what it feels like for former ballerinas to try to dance again after decades of not doing so."

"Yet, even ballerinas still retain something. It's muscle memory. If it feels natural to you, then do it. You know..."

"Y/n."

"Y/n, you don't have to do things you're uncomfortable with, right?"

"I know, I know. It's just that I really like this girl and our dates have been amazing so far. Personality-wise we click so much, but for some reason I just struggle to break this mold. Maybe I've adapted a little bit of that dominance into my personality and it feels a part of me."

"So let me ask you this, if you were to start dating another partner and she wanted to keep things vanilla, how would you feel? No one in the situation is particularly dominant or submissive, it's just a passionate, go-with-the-flow, sort of situation."

"I don't know. I guess I wouldn't mind it either. Like I said earlier, I care a lot about my partner's pleasure and whatever they want, I will go along with it."

"Okay, but what do you want? I've met people who are dominant and liked be fucked rough and people who seem more docile be dominant -- like you. So, deep down, what do you feel? Do you want to fuck, be fucked, or just make love to someone?"

You sigh, thinking really hard about what your heart's current desires are. Maybe it was the alcohol or the rough work week you had, but you wanted someone to hold you sweetly while fucking your brains out. You wanted that so bad, not all the time, but right now you did. You just didn't know how to vocalize it. You didn't have to though because Megan read you like a book. A smirk spreads on her lips and she picks up your glass before dumping out the rest of your drink you weren't going to finish.

"We are always changing, Y/n. There's nothing wrong with that, and equally there is nothing wrong with saying what you want."

"Fine. I would love for that girl to top me." Admitting that was like a weight being lifted off of your shoulders. The break-up with your ex was rough and you probably held onto some things for that. It wouldn't be fair to bring that into a new relationship. You wanted to let go and do what you felt was right. The only thing is you were unsure if you could do that. This new girl is not a rebound and you weren't going to treat her like one. "I would love that, but I just don't know how to let go."

Megan cocks her head to the side. There was something about you that was so cute that she understands why this new person you're seeing wants to fuck the shit out of you. You were so tightly wound and seemed like the woman to always be in her head, overthinking every little action. In her personal life she seemed to be attracted to your type no matter how many times she had to remind herself that relationships are not a conquest. Yet, she felt moved to help you a little.

"You don't have to do it alone. There's plenty of people who would love to help you out."

The coquettish slant in her voice and the way she leans into the bar is enough to get her point across. Your heart starts to beat irregularly, and instantly you see the image of your new possible girlfriend in your head. You two weren't exclusive at all, in fact she talked about another date she might be going on with someone who isn't you. You can't be upset with her because on the very first date you two laid out the rules and discussed what it would mean if you two were exclusive. She told you you were free to see other people while you two still get to know each other, but just be safe and honest about it. Neither of you had the 'what are we' conversation yet. This was something like a movie; hot bartender offers to sleep with a patron instead of just kicking her out 30 minutes before close. You rationalized this situation by telling yourself that this will help out your future relationships.

"Do you happen to know one of those people?"

Megan's smile widens. She got you reeled in.

"Meet me around the back door. Bars' gonna close early tonight."

-

You felt a little odd just standing there waiting for Megan. A chill had fallen over the night, which was now morning.

After every body was out, Megan ended her shift. She came out the back to you waiting for her. She half thought you would've left and just gone home. That wouldn't have been surprising at all, but it seems like you were serious about working out the kinks.

"My cars over there."

She points to a black SUV. It's not the biggest, but surely it could fit the two of them in her back seat.

"Okay."

You start walking towards her car, but you're stopped by her grabbing your hand. You stop dead in your tracks and look back at her in confusion. Megan has had this coy look on her face all night, almost as if she knows something that you don't. Looking at her sent electricity down your spine. Her eyes were piercing.

"Not yet," she says firmly. "Get on your knees."

Right here? Right now?

You almost asked that out loud, but you were too stunned to speak. At any moment Megan's co-workers could walk out and see them. She looked so confident and sure of herself though, maybe she has done this before and the people she works with are used to it? Surely anyone fucking on the property would get fired, but Megan didn't seem to worry about anything. You on the other hand worried. You wanted to feel free but it was going to feel free when you had the fear of getting caught stuck on the brain. You look around and there is not a single soul on these streets. Pretty soon the soon will start to rise and signal a new day, but right now you two were shrouded in darkness save for the outside light attached to the building.

You obey. After seconds of standing there, you finally obey and it makes Megan happy.

"Good girl," she purrs.

It's been so long since you've heard those words uttered to you in such a sweet manner. It scratched a deep itch that you had. You tried to picture the girl you're seeing saying those exact same words to you as you stare up at her, but all you can see is Megan.

Megan caresses the top of your head, enjoying the view of you down on your knees. It looks like you belong there in between her knees and looking up at her. The sight almost makes her moan. She had no clue what she was going to do with you when she asked you to meet her out back, but now her pussy is begging for attention.

"I want you to keep being a good girl for me, push my skirt up, and pull my thong down."

You do more than listen, you eagerly run your hands up her thighs to push her skirt up around her waist. The moment you were about to pull her thong down, she stopped you.

"Aht! Go slower. Don't rip the damn thing off of me!" Megan's tone is a little more harsh. In any other setting she would enjoy how eager you are to please, but she wants to take her time.

You feel slightly embarrassed but you push and continue anyway. You hook your fingers in the thin straps of her thong, but you don't pull them down her legs just yet. Instead you lean in and kiss her inner thigh. Megan instantly shivers and lets out a sigh that makes her sound like she's melting. You kiss her thigh again, remembering how much previous girlfriend's have gone crazy over that.

"Just like that."

You're happy to hear the approval in her voice instead of that nagging tone. You wanted to please her. At first you thought that you going down on her was going to give you power over her, but she's telling you what she wants, thus making you relinquish your autonomy in the situation. You find yourself waiting patiently for her next instructions; peppering butterfly kisses all over her inner thighs.

"I want you to suck on my clit like a good girl, okay? I know you can open that mouth and work wonders, I know you can."

It was every single encouraging word that left you hooked and addicted for more. You found solace in how she called you a 'good girl' and wanted to hear it over and over again. You need that, so you obey. Her thong comes down and your face is pressed against her dripping sex.

"Oh fuck!"

Megan is shocked at the sound that comes out her mouth. All you did was lick her clit once, but god you were so good at it. After a long shift that gave her an ache in her back from standing, you between her legs made her melt. She grabs a handful of your hair rather roughly. It's not like you were going to go anywhere, but she held onto you tightly.

"You sure you struggle with being a submissive little bitch?" She whispers between moans. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, she was just too turned on. And her words were turning you on. You found yourself wanting to perform for her, to be her good girl. "Don't stop," she moans again, breathlessly.

The juices coming from her pussy slide down your chin and you can feel it drop onto your bare knees. You never intended for this night to end in such a sloppy way, but with the way her juices mix with your saliva there was no other choice. You were slowly getting hooked on this stranger's taste; the way her legs quivered and her hips bucked at every lick. Her body was reacting in the way that your ex's always would when you went down on her, but everything felt different with Megan. You felt the flame deep in your belly and it made you desperate. So desperate that you pressed your clothed clit against her boot and started grinding against it. It wasn't the best feeling in the world but every little time you felt the friction against your clit you moaned into her pussy. Megan was shocked at how quickly you turned into a mess; then it dawned on her, this is who you were deep inside. It was like spilling your guts to a complete and utter stranger. It was so easy for you to give in and submit to her.

"Good fucking girl," she groans, clearly enjoying this all too much. "I should tell you how pathetic you look getting off on my shoe, but you just look so cute being this fucking thirsty for me...fuck me with your tongue!"

In seconds you slide your tongue past her slit and into her. Your hands are gripping her thighs but she grabs one of them and places it right on her clit. Instantly you start rubbing her clit.

"See you know what to do."

You can just hear the smile. There was still a little bite left in you and you enjoyed hearing her words turn to lewd moans as you rub her clit and tongue fuck her. The sounds coming from your mouth fill the back alley. It was downright filthy.

"Be a good girl and make me cum!"

She was close and you could feel her clit pulsing underneath your touch. She didn't give you permission, but you put your mouth back on her clit because you wanted to driveher higher. Your fingers don't just fall aside, you slide one into her and feel her warm walls wrap around it. If it weren't for you keeping her up, she might've been slumped over right now. Every single nerve seems to unwind as unadulterated pleasure washes over her. She moans and moans until she reaches her climax. Her voice gets caught in her throat as her cums seeps out of her and onto your face.

You feel something deep inside, nothing like it before. As Megan regains some of her composure she looks down at you and smiles. You almost feel like a dog that's about to be given a treat for good behavior. You should feel some sense of shame as you're not used to this, but instead you feel proud.

"Fuck," she lets her skirt fall down and she straightens up, "that was better than I thought it would be, no offense."

You were staring up at her with her cum on your face, of course you weren't offended. You wiped your mouth clean with your sleeve and stood up. Megan pulled up her panties and noticed how she could hear the birds chirping. The sun would slowly start to light the sky in about 20 or so minutes. She couldn't wait to go home and knock out after that.

"I think you'll do just fine," she pats you on the shoulder, something that feels oddly condescending. "But, if you ever need the reminder, I always work the closing shifts on Tuesdays and Fridays."

You didn't know what to say. You hoped you didn't need to come back and that everything with your new sort-of-relationship will work out. However, you feel a little pang in your stomach. Is it guilt for what you did? Is it sadness that it's over? Only time will tell.

[lesbianrobin]

hang on. your tags on the lightning arc post......my eyes are so open. they should have had buck join a cult!!!!!!!!!! like. even pre-lightning he was already part of the way there with the Happiness Convention (self-help conventions are basically low-level cults right) HE SHOULD HAVE JOINED A CULT.

they could have kept Natalia and made her his gateway into the cult. like im so serious i would have eaten this storyline up and im sorry but it does actually makes perfectly sense for his character.

And then everyone is like Buck i think you're in a cult. and buck is like no these are just all my cool new friends! And then they could have had their requisite copaganda episode and had Athena bust the cult for money laundering to get him out.

LITERALLYYYYY like okay the academic in me feels compelled to say that anybody might be susceptible to joining a cult and cults are good at providing people with what they need to draw them in etc etc all of that said. buck is absolutely the type of person who would So easily join a cult. ESPECIALLY when he's just had an insane one-in-a-million near-death experience and he's searching for meaning in life!

and like no natalia slander she seemed fine but you're RIGHT she could have made for a perfect entry point for buck to join a cult... the way buck was like She Sees Me literally lowkey the way somebody halfway into joining a cult talks about the cult members. if i ever get through my insane backlog of 9-1-1 fic ideas and get the urge to write something long i may have to give this concept a shot because GOD it could have been so good

EDIT: this also could have worked So well with like bobby and/or eddie exploring their relationship with their faith and like they could have asked the question of like When faith crosses the line from comfort to delusion when it is helpful vs harmful... leading into eddie gay realization..... i'm ruminating

[desertfangs]

Since you write a lot do you have tips for people who want to write more?

Hi, anon! I can sure try and tell you some of what works for me!

Ignore advice that you don’t find helpful (that includes these tips!)

Writing is a process, but your writing process is always going to be unique to you, so if something doesn’t work for you, trying to implement it is only going to make you miserable. Like some people will tell you to write every day, but sometimes the pressure of that is going to be too much. Basically anything that doesn’t work for you, chuck it in the bin. You don’t need it.

Put your word processor in full screen

I write in Scrivener, which has a “composition mode” but you can also just put your document on full screen to minimize distractions. That way it’s harder to flip over to check Discord or Tumblr or whatever. Of course, I still exit out of full screen every time I need to look something up in the thesaurus and then I end up spending 15 minutes screwing around on the internet so you know, it's not a perfect system.

Work on several things at once and don’t be afraid to step away if a story isn’t working

Granted, my writing method is like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, so I tend to start a lot of stuff that fizzles out after a few paragraphs (or a few thousand words 😭😭) and I know juggling multiple things does not work for everyone.

I personally usually need at least 2 current WIPs, so I can switch to the second when I get stuck on the first. This means even while I’m ruminating on one fic, I’m writing another. But I have friends who literally can’t write on more than one project at a time or their brains will explode, so again, it’s just about what works best for you.

[BRACKETS]

If you’re stuck on something like a detail or a fact you need to look up or a piece of dialogue (“How the fuck would Lestat respond to THAT?” is my constant refrain, my cats are tired of hearing it), just put something in brackets like [Lestat replies with something flirty or witty] or [Fact check if X] or whatever it is, and then you can move on and keep going and not lose your momentum.

Set a Timer

If you're struggling to make yourself focus and write, set a timer for 10, 15, 25 minutes (whatever increment of time works for you!) and write until it goes off. You can keep going after if you're on a roll, or your can stop for a while, but it will get you into the mindset of writing. And even if that's all you do that day, hey, you wrote for 10 minutes!

Kill your need for perfection and that critic in your brain

I am still working on this but it’s true! You can make your WIP more perfect in editing. The old adage that you can’t fix a blank page is correct. And honestly, a lot of times I will write something and think ‘ugh this is no good’ and then go back and read it weeks later and really dig it. Or I figure out what it needs to make it better. (Or sometimes it still sucks and we just pretend it never happened.) But no one else has to see your first drafts! So don’t stress about making the first draft super good or agonize too much over word choice. Just get words on the page and worry about making it better later.

I hope you find some of that helpful, Anon!