#=I think this probably leads to a lot of: if we are listening to something narrative that has no predetermined visuals and relies on

[anangelcanonlygosofar]

Aziraphale And His Relationship With God

I've been thinking about something that I haven't heard/see anyone in this fandom ever really talk about. That could be because I don't keep up with everything, haven't come across a post talking about it, or the fandom has not discussed it yet. So I shall start a conversation about it here on this blog and many other things I have been thinking about and noticing with every rewatch of Good Omens Season 1 &2.

Let's start with a simple question...

What is the relationship between God and Aziraphale like?

To start, we must consider that God rarely talks to their angels, including Airazphale. They simply give orders that are most likely handed down to Metatron, who acts like a middleman and gives the angels "God's" orders. So it's safe to say that Aziraphale, hearing and learning he would be guarding the Eastern gate of Eden thought, or at last hoped, that God would check in on him every once in a while to see his progress.

However, in reality, God only checked in on him ONCE and asked about the whereabouts of the flaming sword in a short, curt matter, listening to Aziraphale give a dumbfounded remark of it "lying around somewhere" before just peacing out. It's also important to note that they chose to ask Aziraphale about the sword and not about Adam and Eve no longer being in the Garden Of Eden or the fact that Aziraphale had very clearly just finished filling in the hole in the wall to the garden.

After this interaction, it's safe to assume that God, for whatever reason, never directly spoke to Aziraphale themselves for the last 6,000 years or so. Leading me to wonder how Aziriphale felt about his mother, father, and creator talking to certain "special" humans but not to him. How hurt was Aziraphale when he realized that God never seemed interested or concerned about him on Earth or even his well-being?

How many times did Aziraphale try to talk to God directly only to get either the Metatron or no response at all? Did Aziraphale ever give up trying to talk to God? If so, for how long? How did Aziraphale deal with the feelings of jealousy he felt, but probably didn't understand when he witnessed time and time again God CHOOSING to talk to HUMANS but not their faithful Principality?

For example, in Good Omens Season 2 Episode 2, we get to see a minisode about Job and the bet that God and Satan made. Throughout the episode, you get to see how out of the loop Aziraphale is, especially when you learn that he wasn't even told about the bet because neither the Angels overseeing the bet nor God themself gave him a heads-up. Then, later on, and toward the end of the minisode, there is a moment when Aziraphale sees Job talking to God, who's just saying seemingly a lot of random things in no particular order. The camera pans to Aziraphale's face and you can see a mix of joy and sadness on his sweet angelic face. He is joyful to see (well hear) God, but at the same time, he is hurt that God simply didn't talk to him at least once (either before or after The Job Bet).

As time went on, how many times did he angrily rant in his numerous volumes of journals about how upset he was that God decided only to come to Earth to talk to a human of their choosing but not to talk to him? How many times did he cry in Crowley's arms about his feelings of jealousy that God would choose to talk to a human but not him?

Aziraphale must have felt so alone and forsaken. The only places he could turn for comfort were his journals, his books, music, food, and Crowley. For over 6,000 years Aziraphale busied himself with surrounding himself with comforting things and found ways to hang out with Crowley because that was ALL he had on Earth. He spent 6,000 years hanging out with Crowley, reading and collecting books, listening to music, traveling the world, eating his feelings, and writing every experience and emotional sensation he had in his 600+ volumes of journals to keep from going crazy and dwelling on the fact that God never once talked to him directly, even if was to just let him know they still care for him.

Aziraphale must have felt abandoned by God and kept unbreakable faith in them in the perpetual hope that they'd speak directly to him. So every time Crowley said some snide question or remark about God, Aziraphale would get hurt and retort that "it's ineffable" as a coping mechanism and as a way to change the subject because he didn't want to think about God and their perpetual silence toward him.

It must be so painful and insulting that God would talk to select humans but not talk to their own Angel who is watching over said humans. This would lead Aziraphale to grow silently resentful of his God yet he would also come up with an explanation to talk himself out of being resentful and to bury his hurt feelings so deep that he became in denial of said feelings.

Aziraphale probably told himself that God was too busy to keep in contact with all their Angels and only had fleeting moments of free time to talk to selected humans. This reasoning probably only made him somewhat content with God not talking to him. However, Aziraphale still desires to speak to God directly. So, when 6,000 years pass and he has the chance to talk to God directly in hopes of reasoning with them about not letting Armageddon happen, he goes for it. However, instead of God coming to talk to him, it's the damn Metatron, speaking on behalf of God.

At that moment, Aziraphale realized that God not directly talking to him was intentional. You can see in his face that he is hurt, that even in a moment of crisis, God still refused to speak directly to him. Yet Aziraphale still kept his FAITH in God in the suffocating hope that one day he could talk directly to God after 6,000 YEARS of waiting for any sign that God still cares for him in some way.

This is why I believe he truly decided to sacrifice EVERYTHING including Crowley so he could return to heaven and finally find a way to talk to God directly to STOP the 2nd Coming and any other Armageddons that may be in the pipeline. Maybe now that he's the Supreme Archangel God will finally talk to him directly.

He just wants to talk to God, fix heaven, and forever save the Earth from Heaven AND Hell. He believes that if he can talk to God maybe, just maybe, he can fix Heaven, save the Earth, and stop the 2nd Coming, as well as, permanently prevent and stop future Armageddons in the process.

Essentially his returning to Heaven is to "do good", and fix Heaven, but it's also to mend his 6,000 years of abandonment issues he developed because of God's 6,000 years of silence they gave to Aziraphale who only had Crowley to talk to and hang out with. Crowley was there when neither God nor other angels were. The only Angels that Aziraphale conversed with were probably Michael and Gabriel and they probably just yelled at him, bullied him, and stifled his questioning nature so that he wouldn't turn out like a former blued-eyed and blonde-haired angel who fell and became satan.

Apologies for the essay. I tend to write essays to express my ideas somewhat clearly.

Well, tada for now!

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #good omens thoughts #good omens theories #god #michael sheen #neil gaiman #fantasy #crowley #ineffablehusbands #good omens tv

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi i wanted to know if u have any good book recommendations? they can be about anything rlly i just want to become smarter

hi anonymous;

you:re as smart as you need to be, and really: you should read books out of passion (and fun) in lieu of pure raw erudition--mostly cause i think that is a fast way to burn yourself out by forcing yourself to read through dry garbage you don:t really want to read (this sounds loaded, but countering what i:m saying: if you are suddenly passionate about pursuing Pure Mathematics and want to just dive into math textbooks: then pursue that passion :-)) );

i do have recommendations, though! but i don:t think they:ll make you smarter; my favorite book as a kid was Howl's Moving Castle (hated the movie, garbage), it:s just a very fun fantasy book and it rekindled my love for reading after a long stint of trying-to-be-smarter by pursuing philosophical trash;

i really really really loved Squee! and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac as a kid, too; my dad sent them to me as a gift when i was really young & probably one of the only things he sent me that i deeply loved; i wish i still had those books, i:ve really been wanting to re-read them;

read Crying of Lot 49 this year and it moved me a lot--made me really interested in Pynchon as a whole; I'd rope a handful of American authors into this actually: Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Flannery O'Connor's A Good Man is Hard To Find, Cormac McCarthy's Outer Darkness were all amazing surprises to me that just made me really appreciate American authors (sort-of doofy but I really did just appreciate this southern tradition of writers in an inspiring sort-of geographical way, like: I know these lands! I am soaked in this dust! I have this same odd bigotry in me!) -- but I think all of those works/authors are great and you probably can't go wrong with anything any of them have wrote;

I'm currently reading My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante and really enjoying it; the cover/name makes you think of some harlequin romance novel but it's basically a femcel manifesto on hating someone so obsessively that it is indistinguishable from love; I'm currently listening to Stephen King's Duma Key and enjoying it--I'm listening through a lot of King books, just finished From a Buick 8 (loved it) (I'd rope King into the 'loving American authors' thing, cause he was a part of my culture growing up, you know? as doofy as it is, I'm kinda happy to have grown up alongside his career and output and it's been fun to finally delve into his stories);

also finished Nabokov's Pale Fire recent-ish -- if you like stuff like House of Leaves you might like it (it sounds sinful to compare that book to Nabokov but it's pretty apt, too); it's one of the few books I've read that actually made me laugh, and Nabokov is a beautiful writer, and Pale Fire is a book with enough depth that I think a reader could go through it several times and pluck out something completely new each time.

I don't think any of these would make you smarter; funny as it is: I think the KJV Bible is a beautiful read but I don't think I'd suggest it outside of attending church wholly because part of the poetry of the Bible comes from studying the context of a passage and all the lenses that come with it (I'd actually consider studying the 'academic biblical' analysis of the Bible as a church itself, not in contrast with church apologia); you can find a lot of odd inspiration in the works of prophets ala Mary Baker, Ellen White, various Catholic saints, Joseph Smith, Hubbard (wink, but sincere, I like Hubbard), etcetera--but I feel like inspiration or passion leads you to those works rather than some dull desire to soak up another persons passions in hopes that'll saturate you with something you've been missing. Ex: if you want to be a Christian Scientist: read Mary Baker; but likely if you wanted to, you'd already be reading--as circling as that sounds.

Take care, anonymous.

[x-rds]

[Lio] on the fucking Lord. If my subsystem gets another t/az facet. I’ll be like what the fuck

#lio tazblogging #liolog #=I have NO clue what keeps making our brain grab on to mackleboys characters like. what is happening here #=do we enjoy the podcast Yes is it our favorite thing ever no. and yet #=ok I can’t say I have no clue. I have a hypothesis #=the tldr of said hypothesis is this: we always have been very affected by audio #=AND we have hyperfantasia which means we always always are mentally visualizing things #=I think this probably leads to a lot of: if we are listening to something narrative that has no predetermined visuals and relies on #spoken description #=then we are going to naturally interpret said audio medium through our mental lens #=which is also what we use to interact in headspace and to envision ourselves #=so for this reason I think audio affects us significantly. #=this is probably why music and musical trance and musical triggers are so effective at getting us to switch or affecting the system in #other ways #=and why one of the things that tends to clue us in to the difference in imagination and a new headmate or facet is that they have their #own voice and can be affected by music #=anyways basically #=if the brain starts coalescing something and it needs to grab something to attach it to #=then an external concept that has a visual component that it knows and already vibes with (since we also are affected by visuals a lot) #=is probably a very easy concept for it to start incorporating #=not that it’s always the case and not that it happens every time but i think it’s probably just kind of easier based on how our brain works #=anyways. tldr ummm so. montrose. #=I’m getting the fucking. the vibes. the ping. getting the Resonance from him #=It feels like the facet vibes. but I can’t tell for sure rn #=the elder mackledbrother really said. hi. this story has killer animatronics who are stalking you now. #=and fucking montrose has some sort of animatronic thing going on and it’s like. oh ok. #=those deep crevices of my soul are not extinguished I see. feeling some sort of way #=we will fucking See!

[saturnianautist]

Planets in the 8th house

Disclaimer: I am not a professional astrologer these are just my opinions based on my years of experience and research so take with a grain of salt. Also, any mention of some illness or mental illness that could possibly (emphasis on possibly) present in some individuals is one of many ways a placement could manifest but I am not a doctor and astrology should never be a replacement for the real thing. please keep this in mind and take what resonates and leave what doesn’t.

Note: the 8th house deals with themes of death, loss, sex, other peoples money, inheritance, unspoken/hidden things/secrets, irrational fears, the past, obsessions/compulsions and addictions. This house can be intimidating because of the chaotic sides that it can bring, but really this house is like a mirror that shows you places where you can leave certain things behind and transform for the better if you let it. The 7th is about our relationships based on fairness and an equal standing whereas the 8th is where we can either fall or thrive from the opposite. Often with the 8th house we get shown situations where our desire, anger, greed, and insecurities come out, only if we’re not managing. It shows where we can over indulge and also owe things. On the flip side it can also be a house where we have big gains, lots of spiritual and creative gifts and are also owed things. These are my take on the energy of this house in combination with each of the planets and how that could possibly manifest in life. One more note for you all, as you’re reading this please take it with a grain of salt 8th house is not as scary as it seems and some of the things I say are in the most unfortunate and extreme manifestations possible and will probably only be some people so don’t shy away from this energy because when you know how to use it can be so focused and powerful.

Sun:

This person is most likely very familiar with significant loss of something or someone in their lifetime, especially early on or even multiple times throughout their life. The individual likely goes through transformations of their character frequently and throughout their whole lives. As soon as one ends one begins. This can feel tiring if they’re resistant to the changes, but if they embrace them they have the ability to learn many valuable lessons that help them get closer to achieving the life they want, and who they want to be. They might take an interest in, have an early memory of, or know someone close to them who has experienced being in a place that deals with darker themes like a cemetery, hospital, mental hospital, prison etc.. real life detectives who can find out anything and anything on anyone, they are great information gatherers but if not mindful this can be used poorly or for the wrong reasons. Someone prone to being easily addicted to things or obsessive/controlling over something or even someone (including themselves). Can be prone to reckless behavior or self destructive behavior. on a positive note they can very focused and achieve so much when they set their mind to something (sign will tell you more with what). Might be interested or good at careers dealing with things that involve the psyche, life and death situations, spiritual matters, intimacy, investigation, money etc.. For this placement a focus on moderation is so important in order to lead a balanced life free of addictions and free of trying to control to many things. This being a spiritual placement, looking for signs or listening to places your ancestors or passed loved ones try to send you messages to can be of benefit. Also, taking your time to get to know someone in any kind of relationship before getting attached or committed can bring you a lot of peace. Being mindful and thinking of moderation in any decision in general will be helpful to a healthy life.

Moon:

These are people who have very Intense emotions. They can be deeply empathetic and sensitive, and might even struggle to regulate their emotions in a healthy way. These people might not have gotten their needs met as a child, with an emphasis on a lack of emotional stability. Growing up, they might have often heard that they were too much or that they were dramatic when expressing themselves. This could have really impacted them in a way where they might now present as very secretive people, especially with emotions and thoughts out of fear that they will be “too much to handle” to others. They might really struggle to truly open up in their relationships with others and others could find them hard to read because of this. This placement could have a theme in their life on uncovering truths about their family or about the mother or mother figure, somewhere there is a clear theme of hidden things in the family. Something about the relationship with mom is complicated and intense here. An obsessive or intense mother, A mother with illness or mental health issues or even passing away in youth. You or your mom having a difficult pregnancy, or child born with mental health issues or mental disabilities, you or your mom having a child against some kind of odds. A child that challenges you in some way in which it forces you to heal or come to term with certain traumas. An individual deeply interested in spirituality and darker sides to life. Knowing things are going to happen before they do (good intuition), If you have periods it might be a painful or intense period as the moon deals with women’s cycles and 8th house can be destructive and intense. If they are not careful they might turn to substance abuse to cope emotionally as the 8th house can turn obsessive or overindulgent at times so moon in 8th really needs a good healthy emotional outlet in order to cope in the world, spiritual practices can help them regulate their emotions even, they also need to establish a really good support system of solid people in their lives who are supportive of them and in which are they can open up to comfortably. Tending to the home, themes of the home life, self discovery and finding out the truths you need, to reach some conclusions that give clarity about your childhood and family, will really help these people find more tranquility and calm in their lives.

Mercury:

These people are extremely intelligent and easily pick up hidden or unsaid things from conversations (ie they will know when you’re lying to them it’s not wise to try to). They have probably heard even since they were young that they were so smart for their age. They might be gifted in any kind of writing or using their words in some way, things that use transportation, and things that use their hands (for example jewelry making, playing an instrument or drawing, singing, computer programmer etc..). Because Mercury also rules over mental ability and learning skills, even if they don’t have a natural ability for something they can still do anything of their choosing. What they do have is the natural ability to learn new information and apply it, meaning they can master anything just based on their talent of that. They are prone to overthinking and getting obsessive in their own thought patterns which can turn toxic. They can also be obsessive about their work. They can easily get addicted to work and become workaholics which can have a strain on the other areas of their life, especially because they tend to be perfectionists and analyze until something’s just right. Mercury rules a lot of our mental areas and how they function, and the 8th house can get destructive at times, so this placement is prone to having mental illness, especially anxiety or even social anxiety. This could manifest and look different for different people, but often times they are more susceptible to this. At best, this person is just a little chaotic in their personality and it’s one of their many charms. Sometimes people won’t understand this but some will learn to love them more for it. This person is a really my way is the right way and don’t tell me different please. As someone with this placement there’s usually a reason we do things a certain way and it works best for us so it’s best to just go with it. It’s important for these individuals to maintain a good way of speaking to themselves to avoid falling into negative thought patterns. Things like affirmations, talk therapy or journaling etc.. could help them, also having good people around them. Being mindful about work life balance here is also essential to do well in their environment. Additionally, having a good outlet for anxiety will help them cope in a healthy way. Things like regular exercise, eating well, prioritizing good sleep, having a hobby you enjoy that grounds or relaxes, meditation. Eliminating things that escalate cortisol levels like coffee or atleast limiting your consumption, overindulging in junk food or alcohol, unnecessary stress etc.. will also help ease anxiety.

Venus:

If you’re not mindful in dating this placement can tend to have intense love lives and fall into cycles where they feel trapped (8th house can get very attached) this can look like manipulation into staying in a relationship, staying with someone who isn’t good to you or is destructive to the relationship in some way. Alternatively, the relationship is still intense but more expressed as deep love or passion. The individual could be with someone very loyal, committed, and someone that would do anything for them or make sacrifices, also someone who would bring positive transformations to their life. This also notes being in a relationship where there is very good intimacy and deep connection both physically and spiritually, basically just very very connected to eachother where you help eachother with stuff like trauma, trust, fears and money even. People might really want to spoil you with this placement (8th house other people money and Venus attraction), this could also play out in a romantic relationship where you attract people that want to provide for you. Venus dealing with romantic relationships and 8th house dealing with money especially other people’s money it would be wise to get secure or have your financial things in order before getting legally involved like marriage for example. If you separate with this person or have any legal mishaps this placement could point to either owing money or receiving money depending on if it’s aspected well or in an easy sign. This placement can also indicate marrying or being in a relationship with someone who was born into poverty or alternatively inheritance depending on the aspects. This placement can manifest in a lot of different ways but whatever it is usually shows a relationship where you and them are overcoming obstacles together and transforming together. Be careful with greediness and selfishness especially financially here or of other people with those traits. The more you do that the more likely you are to have to pay off debts. A main lesson here will be learning how to have a handle on your desires specifically material and to have self restraint or discipline in that area.

Mars:

In the worst manifestation (so this won’t be everyone and this is just a possibility not a given) this can point to the body or mind attacking itself in some way whether with sickness or even self harm and or a habit self destructing mentally. Alternatively this could also look like making really impulsive decision making which puts you in harms way (mars likes to move fast and can lack patience in its unfortunate expression). At its best this placement has an immense amount of drive and passion in the things they do as if it never runs out. They are great at reaching the goals they set for themselves. They are probably good at facing conflict headfirst and dealing with it quickly. When something comes up that does not serve them they are quick to nip it in the bud. In the fortunate expression this person takes really good care of their body and might have transformations physically. This could look like a significant weight loss or gain or building muscles or maybe even nursing their body back to health from sickness and looking bright and lively again. Most likely they have overcome something physically and have this discipline towards their body. They might be the type of person to have a health regimen they do daily. It’s important for this placement to find a way to healthily use their physical energy because they usually have needs here which can lead to overindulgence if using the energy improperly. Having a workout routine or a way to let off stress in a healthy way physically will be very helpful for them. This could also look like another outlet as long as they have some sort of thing they are passionate about to direct their energy to it will be useful for them since this placement has a great deal of energy. Whatever it is it could be almost anything but mars energy needs a goal and they need to be the one leading things and self motivating otherwise this individual can end up feeling very lost or fearful from lack of direction.

Jupiter:

Jupiter can be very overconfident at times. With that being said, its energy mixing with 8th house themes especially with getting addicted to things or attached, this can present in a lot of different ways besides just substance abuse. Finances especially other peoples finances, and Jupiter’s tendency to make things it touches bigger or expanded, as well Jupiter ruling over fortune and luck (when expressed improperly this can be unfortunate or unlucky) this individual could be prone to a gambling problem (8th house money we owe) at its worst expression. In its best, this could look like making profits in something especially through relationships and networking with other people. This could also be someone that has knowledge of how to handle their money wisely. This would be a good person to start their own business, very entrepreneurial energy with the risk factor but then it coming back ten fold with Jupiter’s blessings. This person is very lucky when it comes to business deals and investments when the energy is used productively. This individual might experience a streak of luck, fortune, or large sum/financial gain in their life, sometimes after a point of loss or tragedy. This individual might be very interested in religion, spirituality or higher education and knowledge of healing so if they don’t believe in religion maybe they still believe in god or something else or maybe they just like to study things in that field. This can also present as having knowledge for a career in being healing to others like a doctor, therapist or maybe someone who helps rehabilitate people physically or from addictions. Its important for this person to find a productive way to use their efforts and talents because they can be prone to doing to much or being extra in ways that causes trouble for them. Finding something that lets them express these talents and knowledge healthily can let them access their blessings fully and accomplish a lot.

Saturn:

Could point to a complicated relationship with the father, father figure or older male figures in the family. They could be absent in someway by choice or not where you have to grieve their presence in some way. This could also manifest as a father figure that’s emotionally unwell or has really intense emotions and controlling behaviors. This individual might need to be very careful of avoidant behaviors when it comes to their feelings and traumas because they can turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms or addictions when they don’t want feel or experience a certain emotion or memory. In a more fortunate manifestation these individuals could have really great discipline. Especially because with Saturn placements the individual can tend to be put through lots of trials and tribulations for the lessons the universe wants to give them. When they do something that isn’t good for them it comes back to them a lot quicker and they are aware of this, so once they learn to master discipline they learn to put a lot of focus towards the care of their body, their health, and especially their goals. They can be very hardworking, just be careful that you don’t use work as an another vice to escape hard situations or feelings. Now there is more that could go wrong with what you do but if you are on the right path doing what you need for yourself there is more benefits like tenfold that come back to you. Growing up Saturn can have a theme of having a lack of in terms of stability so it’s common here that if you’re doing what you need to do and you have achieved that discipline then these individuals can lead very stable lives full of abundance especially financially. Here again, the most important thing is taking your lessons and learning them hopefully the first time (because Saturn will show you something you don’t want), taking care of your health both mentally and physically, taking care of your responsibilities, and being disciplined where you need to be this individual will be granted abundance maybe even through marriage since this is the 8th house of shared money or inheritance.

Uranus:

So because Uranus rules over rapid changes as well as things that are unpredictable, and the 8th house rules over destruction and rebirth/transformational energy, this can create a lot of unpredictable events growing up. Now depending on other placements this could manifest in a number of different ways but this could point to possible unexpected injuries to yourself or others that are on accident, things that cause you to uproot your life like your house getting hit by a tornado or something and having to move etc.. now these are extreme examples and just a possible manifestation it doesn’t have to be that extreme. This could also manifest as finding out unexpected secrets or things that were hidden from you either in your family or friend circle (8th house rules over secrets). Because 8th house placements usually deal with loss or passing of their loved ones in some way, with Uranus being here this could mean a bizarre or weird circumstances to how it happened. Now in a fortunate expression this could also look like a positive rare outcome. These individuals could have near death experiences but they always make it through alive somehow, like a cancer patient who is cured gets it again and beats it again. Because 8th house rules finances, especially other people’s finances, this individual could also do something like accidentally win the lottery or something, or receiving money from the government or more easily receiving money on the internet like if you had a YouTube channel. Uranus is a rebel it is a disturber so this can point in terms of mental health to an anxiety based mental illness or something that targets your nervous system. Especially because this individual might have had these crazy unexpected life experiences at one point it’s also a basis for rare traumas that can be underlying cause for their anxiety or paranoia that something bad will happen (like schizophrenia for example). In a positive manifestation this individual is really gifted in technology, science, coming up with a vision or new ideas that have never been thought of before, creative energy. They have the ability to really master one of these lanes and take a new approach to them in a way that feels fresh and exciting to people, they can have many good collaborations with people as well in their passion. Another thing about Uranus, they don’t give f****. If something isn’t working for you or you want to change your life up for the good this placement really gives you free range to easily achieve it and let go and start anew. I will say though that one thing this placement should be careful of is making sure you have good people around you that you can trust because just as this energy can be collaborative and point to community you need the right people, in a less fortunate circumstance this can point to betrayal or friends that bring you into unexpected unfortunate situations.

Neptune:

Y’all can be very foggy headed and delulu. Neptunes specialty is making things confusing so sometimes you need to be able to take off the rose colored glasses and see clearly. Neptune can make it so that it’s very hard to differentiate between fantasy and reality so when that meets the 8th house it can have an tendency to make it so the individual has struggles being honest with themselves. Sometimes this can point to lying to others, not necessarily intentionally but just because you aren’t being honest to yourself. But more likely it can point to not being honest about what’s not good for you in your life. This can be an addiction or unhealthy outlet, it could be a person that maybe isn’t treating you right but you have a certain version of them in your head that you’re stuck to. This could also just be unhealthy habits you have in general. More specifically these individuals can struggle with a lot of escapist tendencies which can sometimes manifest as drug use and sometimes more heavy drug use in attempt to either not feel or feel something good (like Saturn the escapism is present but Saturn is much more aware of it whereas Neptune is in a fantasy in their head). Neptune rules over subtle things or invisibility so this can be either drugs or other things that make you feel either numb or just overly calm. Neptune can be very uncomfortable in the 8th house at times as Neptune is very spiritual and while the 8th house is also spiritual it’s still very involved with the material world. Neptune doesn’t wanna have a worry and the 8th house just keeps putting reality in their face. Finding their personal spiritual path is a big theme here as again Neptune is very spiritual and the 8th house brings a lot of transformational energy here. Especially because this can point to religious trauma sometimes in more extreme cases so usually there is some type of transformation with that. Being that Neptune also rules over dreams, their dreams can be symbolically important for showing them things regarding spiritual themes so pay attention to your dreams. Especially if it’s from a passed loved one (8th house ruling over death and loss) it could be part of your spirituality that you get sent message from them through your dreams. This person should watch out for the beginning thing I said but also they should watch out for being not only major people pleasers in their relationships but also major enablers to toxic or unhealthy behaviors. Also be careful of overspending or having unhealthy money habits without realizing it or trusting others to handle your money bc they might have alternative intentions you’re not able to see.

Pluto:

Pluto is very methodical here since both the 8th house and Pluto rule over secrecy. This individual probably takes a very quiet and private approach to things in their life and you won’t know until they actually do the thing. This can also be a result of the traumas and things they’ve went through in life. They are very resilient but they could have dealt with a lot of betrayal growing up so they know people like the back of their hand most of the time. Sometimes they can be a bit paranoid because of this though and they can have lots of trust issues towards others. Now they go about things privately because they know how people can switch up easily and don’t want their plans to be ruined again. Because Pluto rules over crime and also authority they might have had a lot of issues with authority growing up family and even possibly with the law. Both of these areas rule over destruction so it’s possible that they had self destructive behaviors and getting into bad situations or illegal situations as a way of acting out from things they’ve been through or just because they might not have had anyone to teach them how to use the toolbox they were given. This individual can be very gifted and very smart and meticulous in what they do. They can be interested in darker jobs or jobs in which what you do is very powerful or transformative/healing (like being a doctor). They have trouble being under authority because they are meant to be their own bosses and hold their own power in their hands. Pluto is very influential and you might have a reputation for disrupting societal normalities in good or bad ways it depends. Be careful with this energy though because it can be easily abused and you need to be careful to use it productively. If you use it unproductively you can come off as controlling and overbearing but if used right you can hold a high regard and be well respected in what you do. This placement can attract a lot of jealousy from others because they are envious of how powerful you can be or are intimidated by you so it’s important to have confidence and good self esteem. A key part of your journey will be healing. Self healing and discovery will be a big theme here. Learning to heal your traumas and trust issues in relationships will be good for creating the life you want and bringing you peace, as well as learning to accept your flaws and yourself. Strong self love is important here.

#astrology #zodiac #astro notes #astro observations #planetsinthe8thhouse #8th house #sun in 8th house #moon in 8th house #venus in 8th house #mercury in 8th house #mars in 8th house #Jupiter in 8th house #Saturn in 8th house #Uranus in 8th house #Neptune in 8th house #pluto in 8th house

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 #neil gaiman #im queer and emotional #NEIL LIKED IT?! #asdsdksfksnvkjdnvdkjvd

[love-that-we-were-in]

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 

*

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 

“Fancy a rematch?” 

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 

“How many beers have you had?” 

“Three, I think?” 

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 

So you say it anyway. 

“I bet I could outdrink you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?” 

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 

“Are you going to?” 

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 

*

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes. 

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 

“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 

“We can share.” 

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 

“You’re on, Castellan.” 

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore. 

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

*

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 

“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 

“Seriously?” 

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x reader - everybody’s favourite

Sorry for requesting something so soon after my Wanda ask... But all I can think of is like Hotchkiss with reader who just absolutely spoils him and jack because their like a CEO or something and want them to have the best. And one day they send Hotch to work with a gift for Spencer after a hard case (maybe a book he's been looking for but can't find). So the team get a little jealous and want to meet her. - @azeal-peal 💜

Looking at your phone, you smiled at your lock screen and went back to looking at the people you were sat in a meeting with.

“How about we take a small break?” You asked.

“Your boyfriend calling?” Someone chuckled.

You laughed softly, standing up as you grabbed your phone.

“Actually my boyfriend is here, and we’re in no rush to finish this project, I trust you all. Go take a few hours, we’ll meet back just after lunch.”

Everybody seemed happy with this arrangement, and you quickly tidied a few of the papers away, setting them aside and picked up your papers.

Heading to your office, you set them on the desk, then walked back outside, making your way across the office.

You saw him before he saw you, and you grinned from ear to ear as you walked closer.

“Hello sweetheart.” You greeted.

Hotch turned around, a smile gracing his face as he saw you.

He opened his arms and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him wrap his own around you and you pulled him down for a kiss.

Letting him go after a minute, you played with the hairs on the base of his neck.

“I just got back, Jack is at school so I thought I’d come see if you’re free.”

“I’m always free for you my darling.”

Hotch chuckled a little bit, letting go of you he held his hand out and you took it, letting him lead you back to his office.

He gathered your phone, your keys and your wallet for you, putting them into the pockets of his blazer, then held out his arm.

You looped your arm with his, making your way down to the parking lot.

“I was thinking about jacks trip, and I want to get him some new clothes for it, oh and a new suit for you, we have an appointment with the tailor.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I’m going to do it. So, suck it up and tell me about your case.”

Hotch nodded, opening the car door for you, and you got in.

When he was in the drivers side, he began to tell you about the case on the way to the tailors.

He explained how hard the case was for Reid, and what had happened, the fact that Reece had been hurt, and he’s really struggling with the fact he was hurt.

You listened carefully as he talked.

“The poor kid has it hard.” You sighed.

“I know, but honestly he’s one of the best agents we have, if not the best agent. I just wish there was some way to boost his confidence in himself.” Hotch sighed.

“Give it time, I imagine life has been hard for him because of how smart he is, and we know this world isn’t too kind to people who are different. Just keep supporting him Aaron and let him know you’re there for him.”

You guided your boyfriend into the tailors and over to the man who was waiting for him.

While they were measuring up a new suit, you were flicking through some others, looking at the colours and designs, then you made your way over to the accessories.

You found a nice, though expensive watch in the glass case.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Another man asked.

“Absolutely, though I was wondering if you have something a little less flashy and more work appropriate. My boyfriend wouldn’t be able to wear this to work.”

The man nodded his head, pulling out some watches.

“Some of these are more expensive due to their unique design, but they would be more appropriate for a working environment if you didn’t want it to be easily damaged.”

You looked through them, and you looked at a pure gold one, small intricate designs carved into the links of the watch.

“I like this, I’ll get this one. He’s currently getting a new suit fitted so I’d like to wait for that before paying, I’ll probably get him a few more ties as well. Something that says professional, but can be used for formal meals and such as well.”

He nodded.

“We have a few I think you’ll like them.”

You carried on picking some stuff up for Hotch, then waited by the counter for him, also getting yourself a new watch since you wanted a change.

When Hotch had his new suit fitted, it was brought over and he stood next to you.

“(Y/N) no, you can’t. This is all too much and it has to be expensive.”

You grinned a little bit, handing over your bank card.

“Oops, too late.”

He sighed, giving you a small smile as he shook his head and he leant forward, kissing your forehead.

“You’re too good for me…” he whispered.

“I’d say it’s the other way around sweetheart, oh, and before you go to work tomorrow I have something for you to take it.”

You never told Hotch what it was, but you did go pick it up later on that night before heading back home.

Jack was happily trying on all of his clothes, and you handed the box to Hotch with the instructions to give it to Reid first thing in the morning.

And he did, when he got to the office he waited for Reid and made his way over.

“(Y/N) wanted you to have this.”

He set the box on the desk and Reid furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Oh? The mysterious rich partner has a gift for the pretty boy?” Emily asked.

They all walked over to watch as Reid opened it.

He set the lid to the box aside, and he picked up the note that was neatly placed on the top.

“What’s it say?” Rossi asked.

“It says to always believe in myself.”

He set the note aside and picked up the very old book.

“It’s a first edition of a Russian novel I’ve been looking for…” he whispered.

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Garcia gasped.

“Damn, that must’ve cost a lot.” Morgan whistled.

They all nodded in agreement and Hotch just chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.

“They don’t care about cost, to (Y/N) they just want everybody to have the best.”

“Seriously Hotch, we have to meet them this isn’t fair.” JJ laughed.

Everybody immediately started asking him and begging him to be able to meet you.

They’d all heard about you, they knew about you from being the CEO of a large company, they’d seen photos of you and seen interviews of you thanks to Garica.

But they hadn’t had the chance to meet you, and they wanted to meet you, finally get to see the person who keeps gifting them all expensive gifts

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #Hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #Hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner imagine

[cryptidghostgirl]

Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

#x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader fics #x reader one shot #x reader writer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #requested #request #requests #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #x you #x reader oneshot #request one shot #one shot #oneshot

[picturejasper20]

Steven Universe as a character is someone who has been mischaracterized and flanderized over the years, to the point people who aren't into the fandom or haven't watched the show believe that mischaracterization to be a fact rather that a product that comes from memes and jokes

The truth is that Steven often fights in the series when it is needed, usually by fusing with someone else like Connie or Amethyst since he is still developing his powers in the original series. He doesn't cry when he has to fight back or defend himself, with exception if the person attacking is someone he considers a friend. Because, yes, for a 14-15 old teenager it isn't fun having to do something like that and it can be traumatic.

He also doesn't start to cry the moment someone refuses to change their mind or is being mean. He often isn't afraid to be sarcastic or call that person out. He didn't cry when Aquamarine mocked him in ¨Stuck Together¨ nor when Jasper didn't apologize for poofing Amethyst in ¨Crack the Whip¨

However, what we see is sometimes him blaming himself for not being able to help people that, more often than not, have been hurt by Rose Quartz, his mother, in some way. After Season 3, Steven fears a lot that he is going to become like Rose and he is going to hurt people the way like she did.

In general Steven deals with an Atlas complex in the show. He feels like he has to fix his mother mistakes and deal with ¨what she left behind¨ even when Rose wanted for him to be his own person as seen in the tape she left for him as it was revealed in the episode ¨Lion 4: The Alternate Ending¨.

Steven also defines his identity a lot for being to help other people and fix their problems. He believes that he has to be ¨useful¨ for others. So when he believes that he failed to help someone, that may lead him to think that he isn't living up to his ¨purpose¨ or that he is a failure as a person.

In reality, he isn't that much different from other hero protagonists from other animated shows. Those who are kind and emphatic and willing to listen to other people and give them a second chance if the person changes their ways. You probably like an animated show that has a protagonist like this. (Who was probably taken inspiration from Steven if the series came out after SU).

The main difference, i think, is that Steven goes a bit more than those protagonists do when it comes to listening to other people, understand their motivations and give them another chance if they regret their actions. A lot has to do with how he is aware that his enemies (usually gems) act the way the do because of the system they were born into rather ¨they are evil just because¨. He gets that their motivations come from the system that hurt them or lead them to believe that their actions are justified.

Another common mischaracterization is that Steven becomes super buddies with every person he helps...when this isn't always the case. There are some occasions that Steven shows discomfort around people who he has given a second chance. Just because he gives them a second chance doesn't mean that he immediately considers them close friends, maybe allies at best.

A good example of this is the gif above of Steven's interactions with White Diamond in ¨Homeworld Bound¨. White Diamond touches Steven very close to where his gem is- which makes Steven distressed since in his battle again White, she ripped his gem out to prove that Pink was still ¨alive¨. In most of the episode Steven shows to be very uncomfortable around the Diamonds and Spinel, to some extent. They bring him bad memories, which is the main reason he has been doing everything to avoid going to them to ask for their help until this point in Steven Universe Future. He even almost accidentally hurts White's gem by smashing her head against a pillar when she lets him control her to talk to himself. This being result of a intrusive ¨vengeful¨ thought.

I wouldn't say that Steven hates the Diamonds,but- he doesn't want to be their friend neither and wants to avoid in general because he feels nervous and bad around them. It's something like ¨I'm glad that you are changing but i don't want to be associated with you. Please, i would appreciate if you kept your distance from me.¨ dynamic.

On last point, Steven is someone who usually pushes his feelings down in certain situations and buries them down, which has led him to have strong emotional outbursts in bad moments. He usually prefers to ignore his own problems and take priority on others. Again, this comes a lot from his desire to be useful and be needed, making him trying to ignore how he feels about certain people and pretend that he is doing fine.

This explains why we don't see him lash out that much to others in the original series, and, why he feels so frustrated and angry in Future, since all that anger and negative feelings can't no longer be ignored as they used to and they are having a negative impact in Steven's mental health. This, of course, isn't meant to be seen is a healthy coping mechanism. It is in fact potrayed as something pretty self-destructive for Steven, as a huge flaw of his, that over time he comes to learn that it isn't the best way for him to deal with his problems.

These are some of the most common misconceptions i have seen about Steven's character online. I could go in more depth with some of them but i think the points should be clear enough. This could be considered a general analysis of how Steven is as a character and how he operates, leaving aside more specific things that can be covered in other posts.

#steven universe #steven quartz universe #steven universe future #rose quartz #su analysis

[amuseoffyre]

I'd done a post before about the intimate violence of face-contact within the pirate world of OFMD, but for Ed especially, when we see the flashback to his childhood, it's something that has clearly stayed with him.

S2 added even more layers into that with the story of Felix the cabin boy and Hornighost physically force-feeding Ed, implying this is something he has seen and probably experienced himself under Hornigold in his youth.

It's something that he is instinctively on guard for at all time. He flinches and recoils when people touch his face. He jumps out of a chair, a makeshift weapon upraised, when someone tweaks his moustache unexpectedly. He slaps Izzy's hand away when he touches his cheek and backs away. He also weaponises it himself against people when he's doing a threat-demonstration.

And there's two exceptions to this:

Because Stede doesn't invade his space or grab him or touch him unexpectedly. The first time, Stede touches his shoulder in comfort and Ed chooses to initiate face-to-hand contact. The second time, Stede offers and says gently "come here" and Ed feels safe enough to do so, leaning into him and letting this silly little man brush some food out of his beard.

And it got me thinking about how much Ed craves that kind of gentleness. To take something that has always been a threat of violence and to have it be soft and intimate and personal.

Which leads me to the way he kisses Stede, gently cupping his face.

And what I really like is the fact that Stede doesn't go for his face in the later kisses either. Stede's instinct is to cup the back of Ed's head instead. Combine that with Stede listening when he says to stop and waiting for him to nod and consent to his touch? Ed feels safe with this kind of touching.

And now that he feels safe to do it, oh Ed loves to touch his man's face. He loves it a lot.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #stede bonnet #ed teach #blackbeard #ofmd meta #tw: violence

[drchucktingle]

It’s Carly Tingle’s big day, the release of her first traditionally published horror novel, Camp Damascus. Unfortunately, Carly’s having trouble enjoying this moment as fear and chaos begin to swirl around her. She wants the book to do well, of course, but it slowly becomes apparent there’s more to Carly’s ambition than meets the eye.

Things get clearer when Carly revisits an old erotica short she’d written, titled Eaten Right By The Physical Manifestation Of My Pride And Excitement That The Lead Character Of My First Traditionally Published Horror Novel Is On The Autism Spectrum Just Like Me. This sets off a chain of fourth-wall breaking events that will send Carly on an adventure unlike any other.

Now at the book shop, Carly will come face-to-face with the beautiful physical manifestation of her pride and excitement as an autistic artist, culminating in an erotic lesbian encounter that could inspire generations to come.

This erotic tale is 4,300 words of sizzling human on sentient physically manifested excitement in the form of a punctuation mark action and lesbian autistic pride love.

----

please enjoy EATEN RIGHT BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF MY PRIDE AND EXCITEMENT THAT THE LEAD CHARACTER OF MY FIRST TRADITIONALLY PUBLISHED HORROR NOVEL IS ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM JUST LIKE ME out now for free but asking for donation to AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

MORE ABOUT THIS TINGLER:

hey there buckaroos i would like to use today to talk on something that is very important to me. i have talked a lot about my journey as a bud on the autism spectrum, and about how I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC.

my story on the spectrum is not a struggle. my way was diagnosed in early twenties, but because of way of masking VERY FEW BUCKAROOS WOULD EVEN NOTICE. it has given me ability to hyper focus and get large amounts of writing done, to find creative ideas neurotypical buds might miss, and to have a unique perspective on life on this timeline.

HOWEVER as man name of chuck my pride in this way used to make me uncomfortable, thinkin i should not share my story. there are many buds on this spectrum who have a MUCH harder time than chuck, and i want to respect the VERY IMPORTANT AND VERY REAL struggles of my fellow autistic buckaroos. for long time i did not feel like it was my place to share and say ‘personally, i wouldnt change my autistic trot for anything. i think being autistic is very cool’

but as tingleverse got more fans and buckaroos started listening to my words more i started thinking: THIS is an opportunity to prove love. part of the reason i am PROUD of my spectrum way is because FIRST INTERACTION with idea of this trot (was called aspergers way back then) was to realize that ALL MY HEROS were on this spectrum: david byrne of band TALKING HEADS being number one.

my FIRST INTERACTION with this idea was not ‘whoa this is tragic’ it was ‘whoa the coolest buckaroo on the PLANET is the same as me’

POINT IS i have been on this timeline a while now and now i am in this position myself. i can be the one buckaroos see when they learn this about themselves and think: WOW LOOK AT THIS WILD ARTIST I ADMIRE BREAKING THE NORMS AND CHARTING A NEW TROT THROUGH THIS TIMELINE WE ARE BOTH AUTISTIC THIS IS THE HECKIN COOLEST

most of the characters i write are probably a little on the spectrum because they are comin from inside chucks head. i look back and notice this and laugh, but other than a single tingler i rare actually OUTRIGHT SAY this character is autistic. i decided that FIRST BIG HORROR NOVEL WITH A TRADITIONAL PUBLISHER was a good time to change this. while i write erotica most of the time which means NO YOUNG BUCKAROOS ALLOWED, horror is a little different. buckaroos young and old can read CAMP DAMASCUS and think ‘i see myself in this autistic hero and I FEEL COOL’

EVEN WRITING THIS NOW makes me get teary eyed and emotional, because these feelings of belonging and positive representation were SO IMPORTANT to me. i would not be trotting here without these autistic heroes, and now i have been given the chance to create one of my own with CAMP DAMASCUS and WITH MYSELF just by being chuck and talking openly about my joyful, exciting, artistic trot on the spectrum.

WITH ALL OF THIS IN MIND i am releasing a brand new tingler called EATEN RIGHT BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF MY PRIDE AND EXCITEMENT THAT THE LEAD CHARACTER OF MY FIRST TRADITIONALLY PUBLISHED HORROR NOVEL IS ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM JUST LIKE ME for free. HOWEVER i am requesting that if you choose to read you send your three dollars (or whatever donation you would like) to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK. this way 100 percent of all profits will go to them. (WARNING this is actual erotica so no young buckaroos allowed for this one).

all ages (who are old enough to read horror) can preorder CAMP DAMASCUS at any bookstore. i also have a tingler name of NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS that is pound free so all ages can read so check that out if you would like.

thank you for blessing me with a space to explore these ideas. i am so thankful to be here with you and you have treated me so well. i am eternally grateful for our tort together and look forward to the future we craft on this timeline.

LOVE IS REAL - chuck

#tingleverse #autism #actually autistic #love is real #chuck tingle #camp damascus #horror #lesbian #queer

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 7)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 7 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

the lead up to the silverstone race is treacherous, painful and downright confusing, and you're not referring to the weather. you find yourself being pulled in different directions and just when you think you've figured it out, your path leads you right back to where you started in the first place

word count: 6.9k tags/warnings: just a lot of angst im sorry

Usually, when you attended the races, you were there all weekend. From Friday morning till the end of the podium ceremony on Sunday. But for Silverstone, you were dreading walking into that track and seeing Charles so you pushed back your travel plans and decided to only go for the race.

Lando ordered a car for you to take to the hotel Saturday night, something that he really didn’t have to do but he insisted on it and you were starting to figure out which battles to pick with him. This was not one of them. 

He had to be at the hotel with his team Wednesday night, so you really didn’t get to spend too much time with him after the shoot with Quadrant. 

Which, honestly, you were okay with. You needed to pack as you were heading straight back to Monaco the following Monday with Charles and Arthur. You weren’t looking forward to that plane ride. If you were lucky, Charles would have a good weekend and he wouldn’t bring up Lando.

But the second the car pulled up to the hotel, a few drops of rain hit the windshield. The driver made a comment about how conditions would only get worse for tomorrow and you so desperately wanted to ignore the possibility of a wet race, however that seemed to be what everyone was talking about in the lobby.

You picked up your room key and texted both Lando and Charles that you arrived. Lando texted you back immediately saying he was in a briefing with his team but that he’d stop by your room after and Charles, without any context, sent you '1125'. His room number.

You dropped your luggage off, but didn’t give yourself any time to settle in before heading up the few levels to floor 11. Charles didn’t have to say anything other than his room number, you got the hint. He needed to talk to you. 

The door swung open as soon as you knocked. 

“Look I don’t want to fight,” you started off, already sounding defensive as you followed Charles into the hotel room. 

“I don’t want to fight either,” Charles agreed with you, opening up the mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “I just want to know what’s going on in your head, Y/N. What are you doing getting involved with a driver?”

“Lando’s just a friend,” but even you didn’t believe your own words. 

Charles gave you a look, one that told you he saw right through your bullshit and you pulled your fingers through your hair, needing a way out of this that didn’t paint you or Lando as the bad guy. 

“Okay fine,” you shrugged helplessly. “I like him, I think. Is that what you want me to say? It’s not as though I’m dating him and even if I was, what’s the big deal?”

You probably didn’t need to add that last question. It was just an open invitation for Charles to tell you everything that was weighing heavy on his mind.

“This is a dangerous sport, Y/N, but this is what all of us drivers have signed up for.” Charles started off with what you already knew before hitting you where it would hurt. “We know the risks when we get in the cars, but we don’t have to think about anything besides what’s on the track…” his pause was deafening. “But if you started dating him, that’s an entirely new element that’s now being introduced to the race.”

You scoffed, “No it’s-”

Charles held up his hand. “Listen to me, Y/N. You would be on the back of my mind if I’m ever even near him on the track. And you’ll always be on his. He might stop pulling risky moves, knowing that if anything happened to him, it would destroy you and not only that, there would be no more racing between us because subconsciously, you’ll be in the cars with us, telling us not to fight, not to put our lives at even more risk.” 

He reasons for you not wanting to date a driver lined up with yours, but he was able to offer it from the perspective behind the wheel.

“It’s the same reason why I’m terrified for Arthur to ever move up to F1,” Charles further explained. “I would jeopardise my own race for him, for his safety. I would do anything to protect him and I would do anything to protect you. If you started dating Lando, then that need to look after you, automatically extends to him.”

You felt sick. You needed to lean against the wall behind you, feeling your legs grow numb. The worry in Charles’ eyes assured you that he was no longer upset or mad about you going behind his back to hang out with Lando, he was now concerned for what lay ahead. 

“I love you and I want you to be happy, I want nothing more than for you to find a partner to be happy with,” Charles rubbed his hand over his face as he shook his head. This was as painful for him to get out as it was for you to hear. “But selfishly, I don’t want you to put your happiness in another driver.”

There really wasn’t anything for you to say. Charles had every right to be selfish. This was his career, his life. You weren’t supposed to be any more intertwined in it than you already were. 

You pushed yourself off the wall, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you turned to walk towards the door. 

Charles tried to follow, “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

You held up a hand towards him as you turned and forced a smile on your face. You really didn’t want to fight. You loved your brother, you wanted to respect what he was asking. He had given you so much. Because of him, you had dozens upon dozens of opportunities and met the most incredible people. 

You could give up this thing with Lando, whatever it was. And better you did it now before it became too hard to walk away.

“You should get some sleep” you told Charles, your voice almost caught in your throat. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left his room without another word. The elevator ride back to your floor was slow, treacherous even as you thought about what sort of conversation you needed to have with Lando. 

You’d wait till after the race. It wouldn’t do anyone any favours to call this whole thing off right before his home race. The least you could do was wait until after to break his heart. 

But then the elevator opened and you saw the driver who had taken up all of your thoughts leaning against your hotel room door. He put his phone away when he looked up and spotted you. His smile broke you. For so long you wanted to be the reason for it and now you were going to be the cause of why it would disappear. 

“How was the drive?” Lando asked, stepping out of the way for you to unlock the door. “It’s starting to rain, hey? The team thinks it’ll be pretty bad for most of the race tomorrow but what’s Silverstone without a little-”

“Lando,” you cut him off promptly, turning the handle to push the door open. You met his eyes for a second before you had to look away, before he could catch on that something was wrong. “Look, I’m really tired, I just want to go to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Lando was a little taken aback, but he didn’t try to talk you into staying up. He reached forward and gave your hand a squeeze, “Okay, yeah, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

All you wanted to do was pull him into your hotel room and spend the next few hours with him until he had to leave to go to bed. Even then, you’d probably be able to convince him to just spend the night with you. 

But you couldn’t do that. The most you could do was offer up a sliver of a smile before walking into the room and letting the door shut behind you. 

Suddenly, a wet race for tomorrow seemed like the least of your worries.

You arrived at Silverstone with Charles. He had tried to talk to you all morning and it wasn’t as though you were mad at him, you were just frustrated with the position he had put you in.

It didn’t help that the second you scanned your badge and stepped past the gates, you felt the first raindrop of the day hit your cheek. You looked up, and even with the dark shades on, it was impossible to miss the incoming storm clouds.

“Wet race today, hey?” 

You turned over your shoulder to see Pierre scanning his badge as well. The two of you hadn’t spoken at all since your conversation in Montreal. You asked yourself why you even stopped walking to wait for him, especially since Charles had gone off ahead to get out of the rain.

“Still giving me the cold shoulder?” Pierre asked as he approached you. The two of you started walking down the paddock, thankfully the Ferrari motorhome was close.

“Still telling everyone we slept together?” You retorted and Pierre dipped his head back and laughed.

“Chérie, I told like four, maybe five people,” Pierre tried to play it off, but when he saw you weren’t about to give him the time of day, he grabbed your hand and forced you to stop walking. “Come on, we’re friends. Don’t cut me off like this.”

“No, you and Charles are friends,” you hastily pulled your hand away from his grasp. “I’m just someone who got caught up in the moment.”

It blew your mind how cocky Pierre could be sometimes. It almost made you want to tell Charles what happened just because you knew it would cause a fight between them. Maybe Pierre would second guess his actions if he was getting yelled at by his best friend.

And that way, Charles would have something else on his mind besides you and Lando. If anything bad happened on the track, not like you want something to happen, he could blame it on finding out about Pierre and you. Surely learning that his closest friend and sister slept together was much worse than whatever this fling was that you currently had with Lando.

Speaking of Lando…

You hadn’t even seen him walk through the gates. Your frustration, and therefore your attention, was solely on Pierre. It wasn’t until the bright orange hoodie became impossible to ignore that you pulled your eyes away from the French driver.

Recently when you looked at Lando, you felt a swarm of butterflies attack your stomach. 

Those butterflies were still there, but it was as if they were now trying to claw their way out of your stomach, fighting each other and making you suffer the consequences. 

You didn’t want to end things. 

You wanted to meet him halfway as he approached you and collapse in his arms, who cares who saw? You wanted to kiss him without a time limit and wish him good luck today. You wanted to hang out in the fucking McLaren motorhome which is something you never thought you’d ever find yourself wishing for.

“Little gloomy today, huh?” Lando asked, sounding a lot chipper than how you or Pierre looked.

You glanced up, as did Pierre and you shrugged. The less you spoke now, the easier it would be to end things later.

“It’s not too bad yet,” Pierre pointed out.

“Oh I was talking about Y/N’s outfit,” Lando joked, nudging your arm with his elbow. “What’s with the all bla- are you okay?” Lando's smile dropped and his tone did a 180 the second he noticed you weren’t in the mood for one of his jokes. He glanced between you and Pierre and not so subtly raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Pierre announced, hands held up beside his head in defence as he started to walk away. “Paddock Princess over here was in a bad mood before I said anything.”

You watched him head off for a second before your attention went back to Lando. You tried to dodge his hand when he reached for your sunglasses but he was too quick, pulling them right off your face. 

“You’ve been crying.” 

“You should get inside before it really starts to rain.”

“Look either we keep stating the obvious or we talk about what’s going on,” Lando demanded, not giving you any other option. There was no lighthearted tone any more, no more playful attitude like he usually had when he saw you in the Paddock. 

More people started to walk through the gates, people that were going to want Lando’s attention if he didn’t keep walking, you both knew this. 

“Can we not have this conversation right here?” You asked him, lowering your voice as you nervously glanced around. Ideally, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation. 

And in a strange twist of fate, you got what you wanted.

Lando could see right through you, he saw the hesitation just from your stance alone. The guilt in your eyes was clear even if they were slightly puffy and bloodshot. They way you refused to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds told him that something heavy weighed on your shoulders, something heavy enough to take out the both of you. 

And Lando didn’t want to have this conversation either.

He might not have known exactly what was on your mind, but he didn’t need to ask anything to know it wasn’t good. That and how quick you were to turn him away last night, it was all starting to add up. No words needed to be spoken.

He handed your sunglasses back to you and nodded slightly, like he was accepting the outcome of this, like he knew he couldn’t change your mind, so why bother trying? He walked right past you without saying anything, but that’s what you wanted right? 

No conversation was easier than laying it all out on the table. It was easier to accept the reality as it was than to hear yourself say the words ‘we can’t be together’. 

You slid the sunglasses back on your face and waited a few seconds before heading towards Ferrari, making sure to stay on the opposite side of the paddock. Neither one of you so much as glanced at the other. You heard his name being called before you walked up the bright red steps and the moment you entered the motorhome, you let out the heaviest exhale that had been pressing against your chest. 

Was it even reasonable for you to be reacting like this? You weren’t even dating.

But you were throwing away the possibility of something great, all because you knew you had to put Charles first. 

He was the first person you saw when you walked inside and gathered your bearings. He was in the middle of a conversation with his assistant when you grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“I hope you’re happy,” you spoke through a bitter laugh. “Me and Lando are done.”

He seemed confused, but when his features softened after a moment, you could tell that he was in fact pleased to hear this news.

“Good,” Charles nodded. “You shouldn’t date a driver anyway.”

“No you shouldn’t have this much say over my life, Charles,” you rubbed your hands over your face, letting what was once sorrow turn to anger. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He raised his voice as well, neither of you caring about the handful of people that were nearby. “I put my life at risk every weekend, the least you could do is not give me something else to think about when I get in the car!”

“You don’t have to think about anything other than the points, don't worry.” You assured him. The venomous tone was impossible to miss. “And good luck today. Hopefully my heartbreak doesn’t ruin your race for you.”

Charles groaned, rolling his eyes at how dramatic he thought you were being, “Y/N-”

“Oh, no, wait, you only give a shit about my feelings when I start caring about a driver other than you, right?” You patted his shoulder, a bit of force behind it as you sucked in a sharp breath. “Brother of the year, over here.”

You walked past him and he was smart by not trying to talk to you, instead choosing to go up to his drivers room. You sat down on the couch in the hospitality lounge, lips pursed together tightly as the sound of raindrops hitting the window behind you started to grow loud enough to drown out your own thoughts.

You would have loved nothing more than for the race to start, to stand in the back of the garage and flip Charles off before he slid his helmet on. You wanted to flirt with Carlos right in front of your brother before he was inevitably dragged away. You wanted to watch the race and cheer Lando on for a change. You wanted to do anything and everything that would purposely get under his skin.

But things never seemed to work out in your favour. 

It was announced the race was postponed due to the oncoming storm and you stayed right there on that couch, watching everyone else scurry around to figure out the new game plan for the day.

Charles' assistant tried talking to you at one point, but you just shook your head. She got the hint and turned right around.

You weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone in the motorhome, that was pretty obvious. If the all black outfit wasn’t enough to deter people away already, your constant crossed arms and the fact that you wore sunglasses inside sure had people second guessing whether or not they wanted to approach you during the wait.

A couple hours went by and you received a few curious looks, but the only person who didn’t give a single fuck that you were purposely trying to look reclusive, was Carlos. 

He dropped down on the couch beside you, arm stretched on the back of the couch behind your shoulders as he playfully twisted the end of your ponytail around his fingers.

You yanked your hair out of his hand, “What do you want, Carlos?”

“Why are you in a bad mood?” He was straight to the point, you liked that about your friendship. There wasn’t any bullshit.

“I’m not,” okay maybe there was a little bullshit.

“Okay,” Carlos nodded, going right back to playing with your hair, “Why is Charles in a bad mood?”

“I don't know, it’s not my problem.”

“I think it is, hermosa,” Carlos snickered, “I think you two are each other's problems.”

“Fine, you know what,” you turned on the couch to face him. Carlos was a bit taken aback to see you give in and talk so easily, “Charles’ problem is that he thinks my life affects his and my problem is that I care too much about what Charles thinks. Do you see how this is a bad cycle for us to be in?”

Carlos paused. You could tell by the way his jaw tensed he was trying to figure out what to say, but you were purposely vague and the more time that passed with you just staring at the Ferrari driver, the more it sank in for both of you that he probably couldn’t help you.

“Is this about Lando?” Carlos eventually asked. “And how about how you two have been getting close recently?”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “This is about me practically being forced to put Charles first.”

“As opposed to…”

“Putting myself first.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. Everything you said was just adding to the confusion and you eventually just gave up trying to keep it bottled in.

You repeated what Charles had told you last night. You told Carlos about the added risks Charles had if you started dating a driver, you shared the concerns and how guilty you felt for wanting to see things through with Lando when you knew you owed it to Charles to call things off. You expressed that you were upset and angry and broken and confused at the same time, which shouldn't have been possible.

“He told me he didn’t want me to put my happiness in a driver,” you rested your elbow on the couch, cheek to palm as you tried to ignore the pain of Charles’ words for the second time in less than 12 hours.

Carlos didn’t say anything for a few seconds. And then those seconds turned into a minute. And then that minute turned into three and you had to hit his arm to get him to look at you, worried that he had been thinking too hard and accidentally zoned out.

“Carlos,” your eyebrows furrowed together, “Say something.”

He opened his mouth, only to close it once again. You rubbed your hand over your face, wondering why you decided an F1 driver would make a good therapist. 

“I just-” Carlos couldn’t get the words out. “I don’t get it, is all. When we get in the car, we know that nothing else matters except the race. Charles doesn’t have the right to pull you into the car with him, metaphorically of course. If he does that and messes up his race, that’s his own fault.”

You wished that was the case, but Charles didn’t see it like that. 

“Okay, let’s say you were dating a driver, Lando, for example” Carlos started off, dragging his fingers over his lower lip. “Charles is the one who needs to learn how to separate it. He needs to learn when it’s time to see Lando as the competition and when to see Lando as the person who makes you happy.” Carlos dropped his hand to your leg, “That isn’t on you. That’s on him.”

“But it’s just going to make his life difficult and I don’t want that for him.”

“Charles is a grown man I think he can figure it out,” Carlos’s assuring smile spread across his face. “Plus with the amount of gossip that goes on in the paddock, I don’t get why this, your happiness, is what he’s choosing to make you feel guilty for.”

You nodded in agreement before Carlos’ words actually hit you. 

“Wait,” you pointed a finger at him. “What gossip?”

Carlos instantly knew he messed up, “I didn’t-”

“What. Gossip.”

But his silence said it all. This fucking Pierre bullshit was coming back to haunt you again. You dropped your hands to your face and let out a muffled scream. There were a handful of people who were nearby who gave you a look of concern, but none of them mattered.

When you looked at Carlos again, his face had gone red. 

“So you know and Charles knows?” You asked. “About me and Pierre?”

“Well he doesn’t-” he shrugged. “Charles has an idea but he’s not going to ask you or Pierre about it. He can pretend it didn’t happen if you never confirm it.”

“But he knows,” you clarified. It wasn’t your fault that Charles just wouldn’t accept the reality of what happened. “He knows and yet somehow, that doesn’t affect him on the track? He can race Pierre like normal but the second I’m actually happy with someone, it’s game over?”

Again, Carlos didn’t know how to respond and this time, you weren’t sticking around and waiting for him to. You stood up from the couch and walked up the stairs of the motorhome, knowing your brother was in his driver's room. Carlos was hot on your heels, probably regretting having dug this past up because whether he liked it or not, he was now caught in the middle of it.

You didn’t even knock on Charles’ door, you just swung it open. Charles was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, half dressed for the upcoming race. His fireproof long sleeve was on but his drivers’ suit was hanging around his hips. He looked up at you, confused as to why you just barged in.

You just blurted it out.

“J'ai baisé Pierre.” I fucked Pierre.

Charles’ mouth dropped.

You repeat yourself, in English this time. “I had sex with Pierre.”

He stood up, looking at Carlos behind you for help, but Carlos was just as stunned as he was.

Finally, you said it in Italian, just to get the message across loud and clear. “Ho dormito con il tuo migliore amico." I slept with your best friend.

Charles was speechless. He tried to sputter out the word ‘what’ but he had no voice. He just kept shaking his head, as if that would do anything.

“And-” you decided to keep going. Everything was already up in flames so why not keep feeding the fire, right?

You turned and grabbed Carlos’ shirt to pull him towards you. Before he had time to react, you pressed your lips to his. For a second, you did panic about not knowing whether or not he would even consent to this but when you felt Carlos start to kiss you back after a few seconds, presumably forgetting his teammate and your brother was standing right in front of you, you figured it was fine.

You pulled back and looked at Charles, “-I just kissed your teammate.”

“What the fuck-”

“I like Lando,” you harshly cut him off.

This was the first time you were saying it without the word maybe in front or i think following it. This was also the first time you didn’t feel any sort of hesitation. It was freeing.

“I like him. And I don’t know how strong these feelings are, I don’t know if they’ll last, all I know is that he makes me so stupidly happy, and selfishly-” you used his word against him. “-I want to hold onto that for as long as I can.”

You felt Carlos tap your shoulder and you held up a finger towards him, indicating that this was not the time to dissect that kiss. 

Charles looked ready to strangle you. And Carlos, but mostly you. “Y/N why are you saying this? Why did you just kiss him?” He gestured to his teammate. “What the fuck is going on? I race today and you think it’s smart to drop all of this on me?”

“Charles, you seem to think that what happens in my life affects yours, more specifically affects what you do on the track and I don’t think that’s the case.” You took a step forward, keeping your voice as calm and reasonable as possible as you said what you should have told him last night. 

“Really, it’s just what you choose to do with the information that you’re given and now you know everything. Now there’s three drivers on the track you might see differently as opposed to one and I know you. I know you’re a strong enough driver, and strong enough mentally, to not let any of this get to you. If you want your emotions to get in the way when you’re in the car, that’s on you. That’s not on me.”

There was definitely an easier way to go about this conversation. You didn’t have to walk in announcing you had sex with his best friend and kissing Carlos probably wasn’t needed, but it all furthered your point.

“My life is intertwined with yours. It has been since I decided to accompany you to all of these races and yes, I will be your biggest supporter but I will also live my own life at the same time,” slowly but surely you could see Charles' shoulders drop as he started to untense. “You can’t blame my feelings for Lando if you have a shitty race, okay? You can’t blame me.”

You started to back up and Carlos stepped out of the way for you.

“Where the hell are you going now?” Charles asked.

“To fix things,” you waved off his concern and practically ran down the stairs and out the front doors of Ferrari.

You were sprinting as you made your way down the paddock. The rain was coming down hard now and your eyes were set on the McLaren motorhome. 

You probably looked insane. Running down the puddle-filled paddock in platform boots without an umbrella but in all honesty, this was probably the best time for a grand gesture. Everyone who worked for the media was finding shelter right now, you were in the clear.

You walked up the steps but someone from the team who had been standing outside under the awning stopped you before you could reach for the door. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Leclerc, you can’t just go in there, not without an invitation,” he told you, obviously recognising you as being Charles’ sister. It made sense. You were, by association, with Ferrari.

“I need to talk to Lando,” you wiped at your eyes, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face. You felt around for your phone but came up empty handed, figuring you must have left it back on the couch in Ferrari. “Please, two seconds. That’s all I need. Tell him I need to talk to him.”

He held up a finger and opened the door to head inside. You waited for a second but your clothes were soaking, your hair was sticking to your face and neck. Your make up was ruined and the rain was freezing cold, so obviously you walked inside as well.

A hush fell over the motorhome when the door shut behind you. Mostly because you stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone was wearing orange, you were the only one dressed in all black and you were the only one who looked like they just jumped into a pool with all of their clothes on. 

You smiled awkwardly, shoulders tightening as you pressed your back to the door. You were wondering who was going to say something first, who was going to kick you out, and surprisingly the one who spoke up was Oscar.

“For christ sakes get her a towel or something,” Oscar called out, standing up from the table he sat at. You mouthed a quick thank you to him.

You and Oscar had never exchanged a single word before, maybe a smile here or there, but you were truly appreciative that he acknowledged you as someone who just needed to dry off right now, not as someone who was associated with Ferrari. 

Someone who worked with Hospitality crossed the floor with a few clean dish towels, telling you it was all she had at the moment. You thanked her and then looked up at Oscar who was also making his way to you. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, ringing out your hair. “I know I shouldn’t be here-”

“Oh I don’t mind at all,” Oscar laughed. “I take it you’re here for Lando?”

You didn’t nod. You actually didn’t say anything, your mouth just fell open and you forgot how to breathe when you realised that Lando had most likely told his teammate about you.

“I might be,” you reluctantly answered. “I might also be here because I heard that you guys have the best espresso machine.”

“Espresso is a piss poor reason to venture outside during a storm.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement as you wiped the cloth under your eyes. The amount of makeup that had transferred to the towel was horrendous. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now. 

“Is he-” you glanced towards the staircase behind him. Why was it so hard for you to finish your sentences? Why was Lando clouding every one of your thoughts to the point that you couldn’t get more than a few words out? Why did he affect you so much?

At that moment, the security from earlier started to descend the stairs. Instinctively, you stood closer to Oscar, trying to make it seem as though he was the one who invited you in.

“He’s busy,” was all the McLaren employee said.

“Bullshit he’s busy,” you spat, coming across much harsher than you intended to. “The race is postponed, he’s not doing anything!”

“He told me to tell you he’s busy.”

You looked at Oscar, it was obvious he felt a little awkward standing in the middle of the conversation, but he wanted to help. What was good for his teammate was ultimately good for the team and Oscar so desperately hoped you weren’t here with malicious intent. 

“You can hang out in my driver's room,” he offered, his lips curving upwards into a smile. Oscar turned to the security, “She’s my guest too, it’s fine.”

This employee knew Oscar was lying through his teeth and all three of you knew Oscar’s room was right next to Lando’s. But because you were given the go-ahead from a McLaren driver himself, he couldn’t do anything to prevent you from walking up the stairs, boots squeaking against the floor the entire way. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Oscar a thankful smile and he gave you a thumbs up. Part of you felt horrible for never giving him the time of day before. Subconsciously, you saw him as the driver who replaced Daniel and held a bit of a personal vendetta, but it was clear he had a good heart. 

You waited until the security guard looked away before sneaking around the corner to where Lando’s room was located. You read his name on the plaque a few times and thought about knocking, but if he knew you were outside the door he wouldn’t open it. 

So you turned the handle and pushed the door open. Lando wasn’t even in his racing suit, opting for a pair of joggers and a hoodie as he waited for the race start to be announced. He was leaning against the massage bed and looked up from his phone, barely even acknowledging you before turning right back to his phone.

“I don’t really feel up to chatting right now,” Lando muttered.

“Fine then just listen,” you walked in and shut the door behind you. 

Your heart was pounding and you would have liked to blame your trembling on the fact that you were just standing in the rain but you knew it was because you were finally about to be honest with Lando.

“I think I made a mistake,” you stated. Lando didn’t look up, choosing to disregard your words. You couldn’t blame him. You went from barely being able to look at him a few hours ago to dramatically confessing your feelings. “I didn’t want to admit it before, but Lando I really- I like you.”

“Yeah you like a lot of things,” Lando was unamused as he scratched the side of his face. “You like chocolate cheesecake, you like daisies, you like Daniel’s merch-” he inhaled a sharp breath, still keeping his eyes on his phone. “You like speaking French over Italian, you like supporting the underdogs, you like that you have a presence in the Paddock.” This was taking a turn, “You don’t like driving, you like when someone understands your humour, you like putting your family first even if it means putting yourself last, you love cooking, you have a weird obsession with shitty movies.”

 Finally he looked up.

“You like when people compliment you but you never know how to respond. You like being needed but you don’t like needing someone. You don’t like the unknown which is why a relationship scares you, regardless of who it's with. You like leading me on because you don’t care about the consequences afterwards and I fall for every word you say, every hypothetical you tease, because I think that maybe this time, it’ll be different, and do you want to know why I know all of this? Why I've put up with all of it?” 

This seemed like a rhetorical question but you responded meekly anyway, “Why?”

Lando paused. He pushed himself away from the bench and walked towards you slowly. His jaw tightened, there was no trace of a smile. Even if what he had to say was good in nature, it was only going to destroy you. 

“Because I like you,” he said, sounding so sure of himself and simultaneously like he wanted to take back those words the second he said them. “But I’m not about to waste my time at this halfway point with you. There’s a line here and I’m willing to cross it, to meet you so far past the middle it to make this work, but I don’t think you can say the same. So until you decide, fully and completely, what you want…stop stringing me along.”

Lando had never been so serious before.

Your entire friendship, relationship, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, was playful and fun and he was the reason why your jaw hurt from laughing. He was the person who wanted to take care of you, to make you smile and now he was so close to giving up on all of that, all because you were going to put Charles first.

You genuinely couldn’t blame him. You had been back and forth for weeks. It may not have clicked until now, but you had been leading him on. He had done so much for you and practically overnight, you were nearly ready to forget all of it.

There was a knock on the door. Neither of you made the move to answer it, instead letting whoever was on the other side inform Lando through the wall that it was time to change and head down to the garage. 

He was waiting for you to say something. He was waiting for you to tell him that you wanted him. And you knew you did, but why couldn’t you open your mouth? Why did your fears outweigh what was right in front of you? Why was it still so hard to let yourself be happy with Lando?

Lando nodded, accepting once again that no answer was probably better than the answer he didn’t want to hear. He gestured towards the handle of the door. Without saying a word, he was politely asking you to leave. 

And because you still couldn’t say anything, because you couldn’t meet him halfway, you left. You stepped out in the hallway, avoiding the eyes of nearby McLaren employees as you walked down the stairs. You passed Oscar before reaching the front doors and he gave you a hopeful look, curious if all was worked out between you and his teammate. 

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice. 

When you stepped outside, it was still raining but it had eased up. It was a light drizzle compared to the storm you ran through earlier. 

By the time you made it back to Ferrari, most people had already left to go to the pitlane and the garage.

An exception to that was Charles.

“Don’t,” you demanded. You didn’t want to hear anything from him, but he was clearly waiting for you. He didn’t comment on your rung out appearance or your smeared makeup. It wasn’t his place to, anyway. He just stood up and walked over to you, zipping up his racing suit in the process.

“I stand by what I said,” Charles declared and all you could do was roll your eyes as he continued. “You shouldn’t put your happiness in a driver.”

“And what if I already did?” You retorted, quite loudly. “What if I already did and I didn’t realise it until it was too late and now- and now I have nothing? What if I’m worse off now than I was before?”

For a split second, you could see it in his features. Charles was conflicted too. 

There was Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc. The man fighting for championship winning points. The guy who risked his life every time he stepped into the cockpit of the car.

And then there was your older brother. The one who hated that he was the one who put you in this situation. Your brother, the one who said he wanted to keep you safe, was the sole reason there was a sense of vulnerability and emptiness looming over you. 

You didn’t feel those things because you had feelings for Lando. You felt those things because Charles made you feel guilty for supporting someone other than him. 

And even after everything, after you came to the realisation that you wanted Lando, after you dropped a bombshell on your brother, after you ran across the paddock for some stupid grand gesture, where did you find yourself?

Standing in front of Charles.

No wonder Lando had his doubts with you.

“I can’t be here,” you admitted, your chest feeling tight once again. “I can’t watch the race, I’m sorry.”

For once, Charles wasn’t going to stand in your way. He had done enough damage.

“Take the plane back to Monaco if you want, there’s a car that will take you the airport-”

“No, I’m not going to Monaco,” you shook your head. Monaco was the last place you wanted to go. You didn’t want to walk into your empty flat. There was nothing for you there.

There was nothing for you here either. You couldn't stand to look at Charles. Lando wasn't going to talk to you until you figured out what your intentions were but you couldn't figure it out if you were watching a race. You needed to leave.

And you needed to go to the one place that actually felt like home.

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader if i missed anyone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

[angelltheninth]

Please Say, Please

Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, edging, fingering, begging, overstimulation, cunnilingus, no touching (for Reader), control, dom!Bucky

Word count: 1k

A/N: Written for the Seven Deadly Sins collab hosted by @nickfowlerrr. The virtue I chose is "patience".

Bucky smiled while he undressed you, both with his hands and his eyes at once, but of course you were much more excited about the hands part. "Am I a Christmas gift? Why are you being so careful?" You took maters into your own hands and unhooked your bra, but he was the one who fully removed it from your breasts. "I think you like me more like this."

"I like any kind of way." He kissed right above your collarbone while his hands traveled the underside of your breasts, hot and cold at the same time. You weren't nearly as patient as he wanted you to be, running your hands through his hair and guiding his mouth to your left nipple, which he took into his mouth almost immediately.

You hooked your fingers on his belt and pulled him close, taking him with you onto the bed. From there your hands unzipped his pants, your eyes hungerly running down his abs, to the faint happy trail leading to what you needed most right now. His cock was already hard, tenting his boxers, warm under your palm, twitching at your touch, at each stroke. You wanted to lick him so badly, take him in your mouth and just-

"Stop." Bucky managed to say, his voice strained and growly, eyes closing. "Keep those pretty hands to yourself ma'am." He grabbed them both with his right hand, leaving the left to rub from one nipple to the next. "Tonight is all about you. That means you just lay there, and let me do the work." A statement neither you or his dick seemed to agree with. "I'll make it all worth your while. I promise." His lips moved lower down your stomach, "All I ask for is for you to be patient."

"You're not making it easy." There was already a dark stain forming on your underwear from his kisses.

"That is the idea love." You could feel the stubble pressing into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tickling you, "Let's take these off shall we, see what kind of state I've got you in." He pressed his middle fingers past the sides of your panties and pulled them down your legs, blue eyes locked on your newly naked pussy. "Oh. So wet already. Seems I was right, you have a lot to learn about patience."

With that much wetness his metal finger slipped in quite easily, the cold making you hiss when it entered your warm walls. It was okay, it was always cold at first, but just a few minutes of this and he'll be warmed up for you. At least the finger going in and out of your pussy will, the one on your clit, his thumb, would remain cold. Then there was his warm breath, teasing you.

He made room for himself between your legs, it was easy when he had you so compliant. You tried your best to listen to what he said, keep his hands to yourself, but it wasn't an easy task when his tongue licked a long, slow stripe from his finger to your clit and sucked on it.

"Mm, I can see you sweetheart. Hands at your sides, or I stop this immediately." You hated how easily he could make you listen. No other threats were needed other than that but you... you had to hold onto something. Thinking quickly you grabbed onto the headboard, your wrist one across the other as if your hands were tied. In a way there were, "Good girl. There's my good girl. I knew you'd listen if I just," Bucky placed a long, sucking kiss onto your clit, making starts dance in front of your face, "gave you a little bit of incentive."

"Bucky, I need... need... cock... your..." You were still struggling to find your words but Bucky didn't halt, he kept pushing his finger in and out, watching your pussy flutter around it. You didn't know when he kicked his boxers off, probably while your vision was still blurry but now that his cock was out you knew it wouldn't be long before it was inside you where it should have been long ago.

"Need what? You could be polite and ask." Ask how when every noise that leaves your mouth is a wonton moan. "Please, let me hear you ask for it. You've been patient, now I want you to do this one last thing: ask for my cock."

"Please Bucky, please give me your cock. I've been good, I've been so good for you." Your patience, as fragile as it was when you started was almost at an end. Lucky for you Bucky was quick to reward it before he could see how disobedient and desperate for him you actually were.

His cock pushed inside of you quickly, he just as needy as you but much more in control of himself, his thrusts even and deep, quickly finding a pace that suited him best. Both his hands pressed down on your hips, there would be no movement from you until he says so, no finishing for you until he says so. You were at his mercy, the mercy of his hands and his cock, making you a pathetic sobbing, whining mess.

While you wouldn't disobey hum it was hard not to, especially when his thumb was back on your sensitive, swollen clit. You whimpered loud as your cunt clenched around him, inching closer to your orgasm despite your best efforts to hold out for him.

"Hold out just a bit longer darling. I need to make sure you've learned. If it takes all night, I'll make sure you learn a thorough lesson in patience." Bucky growled, his cock on the edge of release, edging both of you, giving you as much control over him as he had of you.

As they say: patience is a virtue. But right now to you, to both of you, it was nothing short of a deadly sin.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #marvel x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #mcu smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel x you #mcu x you #bucky barnes smut #marvel x female reader #mcu x female reader #bucky x female reader

[writingmeraki]

hazy eyes, clear thoughts I

a roronoa zoro imagine !

synopsis : in which letting your drunken mouth spill your sober thoughts leads you to a very unexpected consequence. ( read: everyone saw it coming except you and **** )

pairing : opla!zoro x gn!reader, idiots to lovers!

genre : disgustingly fluffy fluff, five tablespoons of angst and probable romance.

warnings : cussing, mentions of alcohol and getting wasted, zoro kinda mean, probably terrible humour, shit ton of giggling, also very all over the place but kinda cute? not entirely proofread, also lmk if I forgot to add any other warning !

author's note : well oh well, look we have another totally not self indulgent zoro oneshot/drabble/imagine n e ways I hit a sort of weird point of the series, I'm stuck but i am like 87% done with ch 1?? i hope I'll be able to do it soon enough ^^ tysm for ur patience !! let me know what you think of this! also PART 2?!? ( I need to know if people wanna read this randomness further 😆😅🤣👍🏽)

word count : 4.8k

gif creds !

 “Oh-kay! I think that’s enough!”

You frowned when Nami took the drink from your hand, whining in protest when she kept it further away which she knew your drunken self would be unable to reach.

“B-but it’s good, it’s making me happy!” You giggled as you pointed at yourself and then pouted, pulling your manipulative tactic, one you did a lot when you wanted something especially one you did when you were shit-face drunk. 

With large doey eyes, you pleaded at her, “You don’t want me to be sad right? I’ll be sad if you don’t give me- that.” You pointed in a direction you thought she placed the beer but of course, it was way off.

“See, you can’t even make out where I’ve placed the beer! I don’t care if it makes you upset and honestly, it was fun to see you make a fool out of yourself, but now it’s just…sad.” She sighed, a tone of sympathy as she finished her sentence,

“I know why you’re drinking and it’s not a good way to distract yourself from your feelings! Drinking worsens the problem!” She scolded you to which you now felt a small anger form within you.

“Well then, how else am I supposed to get rid of this dread and just stupidity huh? Being sober is a constant reminder!” 

“Your feelings aren’t stupid! You like him, I’d say even love! You can’t just assume your feelings are invalid not until you know how the other person feels!” Your best friend felt a rage you’d feel if you saw someone you care about demean their feelings, a sort of anger at them hidden with laces of sympathy.

“He doesn’t fucking care! He only cares about his promises and that’s…that’s his life, his own…way of living so it’s fine!”

“Feelings to him are just…distractions.” You gulped as you recalled the way he replied to Luffy when the Captain was teasing him about falling in love. 

[ a few moments ago ]

“Zoro, don’t you think you should consider finding a partner, don’t you also want to fall in love and experience all the magical things that come with it?” Luffy teased as you all sat around a barrel, deciding to just hang out after a busy day. 

Zoro had a beer in one hand as he took a sip and then rolled his eyes, you’d been seeing his reaction, undoubtedly your heart picking up its pace when you heard the question. 

“I don’t need love, or call it a partner if you will. I already have enough on my plate, all that so-called magical stuff is just a distraction.” He replied, with no hesitation which left no option but for the listeners to believe his words.

Just because he’d spoken his opinion, it didn’t mean it hurt less. You knew it though, from the start that Zoro was a determined individual. Despite having his own goals, he also cared about others like Luffy even though he didn't show it much, less that he said it verbally.

It was what made you like him in the first place. After all, what’s more, better than a man who knows what he wants, is determined to get what he wants, cares for those he considers his friends, and the bonus cherry on top being he was quite easy on the eyes too. 

A whole package indeed. 

And you didn’t even know when your supposed “I admire him as a person to look up to” turned into “Oh, I think I am in love with him.” 

But ah, that’s the beauty of love and all the magical stuff, isn’t it? You never know when you’ll be the one who finally falls into it.

That’s why, after hearing his words, you felt your heart sink just a little. Screw it, you think you felt it weigh a shit ton and sink to the very pit of your stomach. 

Nami, oh Nami, what a friend she was truly, because immediately her eyes darted to you after Zoro’s words and she saw your expression go down just as quickly as Zoro downed his bottle of beer. 

Luffy chuckled, of course, he would, the poor lad was just teasing in the first place anyway to irk Zoro and obviously, he didn’t know about poor old you’s feelings. 

I think I need to go. 

It sucked how you couldn’t refute against him. How you couldn’t yell that love is not just a “distraction”, love is something that makes one feel more…human. Love is a wonderful thing and how if someone were to experience it, it makes you feel….it makes you feel just happy at being in the presence of the one you, love. Just…love is not…it’s not-

“Uh guys,” You piped up after sensing the tense atmosphere, tense to you anyway since you felt like a seashell was clogged up your throat. 

“I’m gonna go…get some fresh air. Yeah uh- I’ll be behind if you need me.” You abruptly got up, smiling tightly at Luffy, purposefully avoiding Nami’s questioning yet pitiful look and harshly blatantly ignoring how Zoro’s attention turned towards you, about to question you too, his face showing the emotions he’d not show before 5 bottles of beer. 

Sighing quietly, you picked up the drink you’d been downing, still having an adequate portion in it and you thought about it, saying fuck it as you grabbed two more from the stack that was in the middle.

“Continue with…your shenanigans,” You turned around and let your emotions finally show on your face, words repeatedly swinging in your head as you tried to filter them out. 

It’s nothing but a distraction.

And now, a few bottles (2) and a whole lot of giggling later, you may have truly begun to take Zoro’s words seriously. 

“I feel sick, perhaps it’s my heart breaking, see it hurts here the most.” You groaned as you looked out into the sea, pointing to your chest, though inaccurate as you held your right side, the sun appearing as a blurry blight light due to your vision becoming hazier as you got more drunk.

Nami sighed at you, realizing you should probably just be made to go to bed, despite it being only a few hours away from actual nightfall.

“Come on, let’s go, you’ve thought enough,” She stood up, having been sitting beside you on a barrel while you’d been sitting on the same.

She pushed her hand outwards towards you, to which you giggled and you were pretty sure your cheeks ached now. 

“Namii~how do you have-” you pointed your finger out, counting the fingers “-ten fingers! On one hand?!” You continued staring at her hand in awe as she rolled her eyes, a small grin on her face, finding your drunken self a tiny bit cute. 

Suddenly you felt your world stumble as she grabbed you and pulled you upwards, you now decided you did not know how to walk and leaned your entire body weight on her. 

Now, Nami wasn’t a weak person but considering how you were more on the taller side than her while also being a bit more buff due to the immense training you did every day to practice your own skills, you did weigh more.

She quickly made you sit back down when she realized she couldn't possibly carry you, she needed help.

"Stay here 'kay? I'll be back." She told you to which you obediently nodded, which made a genuine grin form on her face.

Maybe she did prefer drunk you who'd follow her orders with no protests.

You looked back at the sea, the sun even lower than before, a type of golden shining on the blues that reminded you of a certain someone's earrings and oh, there it was.

Your thoughts slowly getting consumed by the moss head who despite drinking so much to forget was so embedded deep into your memory and probably heart at this point that even the slightest similarity you saw, be it colors or flowers, reminded you of him. 

Ah, that's love and all its magical stuff am I right? 

Sighing, she made her way back to where the rest of them were, the crew picking up on her presence,

"Where's Y/N? Weren't you bringing them?" 

"Well, for one they are SHIT face drunk, I don't think they are even conscious of where they are right now so I'll need to take them to bed but also, I can't carry them alone." 

She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of drowning yourself in your feelings, quite literally but she knew she wouldn't complain to the rest of them or more so she couldn't.

"Well I'm sure, one of us can help-"

"I'll help you carry them." Zoro interrupted your captain who was just about to suggest him. If there was one who could probably carry anything heavy too, it was him of course. 

Nami eyed him curiously, she did know he wasn't ready to do…kind deeds, not unless it helped him in some way. Though, she thinks, you may just be an exception.

He stood up and walked towards where you were, which was at the back, Nami followed suit to which he turned towards her.

"It's alright if you don't come, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to carry them myself." He said it and Nami narrowed her eyes, half out of suspicion and half out of spite after hearing the cocky undertone to his words. 

Proving that was one corner of his lips being turned upwards, forming an annoyingly handsome smirk that if you saw it, you'd probably be more on the brink of absolutely losing it.

"Take care of them and if they are hurt-" Zoro rolled his eyes at the over-exaggeration, and Nami knew that but as your best friend and a platonic soulmate at this point, she felt she had to say something. 

"I don't mean it that way, you know damn well what I mean." She told firmly, to which a slight confusion did flash in Zoro's eyes but he didn't make it obvious as he glared at her, ready to bicker.

"Nami!" Luckily, Luffy's timing seemed impeccable as he called her, to which she turned around, allowing no further talk.

Zoro just brushed off her words and moved to where you were.

Despite, Zoro admitting to never wanting a partner, it didn't mean though, that he didn't feel. 

He cared. He cared enough for Luffy to stick with him. He cared enough to fulfill a promise. 

And he cared for you too as he saw you sleeping soundly, laying your head on the ship, using your hands as a makeshift pillow. 

And yet, he somehow knew it was different. It was different from how he cared for others. 

He gulped as he moved closer, now being able to see your features being highlighted by the afterglow of the sun setting. 

It was as though you were the sun's favorite child at the moment, touching parts of your face softly, careful enough to not awaken you yet enough to rest on it to make it golden. 

The evening breeze couldn't have picked a better time to pass as strands of your hair messily moved, your face scrunching up in disturbance. 

He didn't even perceive how he'd reached you and was actually touching strands of your hair to push them back in place so as to not disturb your sleep. 

He wasn't even a gentle person, but he was using soft fingers with even softer touches to push them back. 

He figured he should in fact take you back to your bed, well shared bed with Nami. 

Deciding there was no need to wake you up, he moved beside you, putting one arm underneath your knees while the other looped just above your waist and below your chest. 

You blinked open your eyes when you felt yourself floating, it seemed like you were floating for a brief second, engulfed by warm clouds and a nice pillow that was-

You looked up and saw the side profile of someone. 

They seemed familiar. 

A glint of gold caught your eye as you put your left arm up and poked the earring, giggling as you saw it move.

"Wow, pretty," You think you'd seen it but your eyes being hazier than before after your mini nap seemed to only make your vision more blurry.

The sudden exhale and whisper down his neck almost made Zoro trip as he didn't really expect you to be up.

He was just near your shared room.

"Where are you taking me? Who are you?" You asked the important questions now, your mushed brain being able to form somewhat coherent thoughts. 

"You- you don't know who I am?" He asked you, confusion in his features and then remembering why you were lost. 

Right, practically wasted. And apparently memory loss due to being wasted.

He pushed the door open, as flimsy as it was, careful to not eventually break it down.

You looked around your surroundings, now even more lost as to where you actually were.

You squealed as he let you down, immediately realizing it was a terrible idea when you almost toppled over, unable to hold your own weight as he pushed his arm around your waist.

You held onto the man's shirt as you tried not to trip and fall.

"Here I'll just- I'll get you to bed." He guided you towards your bed, hand still wrapped around your waist as he looped yours over his neck. 

You plopped down with your eyes shut, your head began spinning when you almost tripped and you groaned in regret.

"Drinking too much was such a bad idea, like all my decisions lately." You put your hand on your forehead as you tried to rub the forming headache away. 

Hearing a walking sound, you peered your eyes open. Half-open anyways as you still couldn't make out well anything.

You could see the supposed stranger who'd help you till your bed was going to turn around and likely go but at that moment, you decided you didn't really want to be…alone.

Grabbing his hand before he moved away, you pulled him back with all your force. It didn't phase his movements much though other than him halting. 

Zoro turned back to you after deciding he should probably leave before he either said something he'd regret or worse, did something he'd regret. 

It wasn't his fault though with how…cute you looked as you plopped down, making him want to ki-

"Stay…please." You whispered to him, still holding onto his wrist as you blinked at him.

A familiar green color sat on top of his head but you figured it was a common color despite being sober you absolutely made fun of it when you could about how uncommon it was but also whined about how unfairly good it looked on him. 

The same him who looked at you in confusion and disbelief,

"You want me to stay, right now? With you?"

“Of course! I feel quite alone right now, maybe the company will make me feel better here.” You let go of his arm, the loss of your colder hand in contrast to his warm skin making him slightly frown. 

You pointed at your chest, surprisingly getting it right this time by pointing toward your left side.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Does your chest hurt or something?” 

There was a slight concern in his tone, one which made you giggle. 

“Not- not physically silly, it’s- it’s my heart, it feels like it’s been gutted- wait no too- too gruesome, it feels like someone just punched it and it broke.” As you blubbered about your heartbroken state, your words made him more curious and concerned.

He decided he should probably hear you out, after all despite not being a great talker, he’d consider himself a decent listener. 

Grabbing the barrel you used as a chair placed under your makeshift desk, he moved to sit beside your bed. 

“It’s ridiculous. I should have known there was no chance, but it isn’t like you get a choice sometimes on how you should feel about someone, it just…happens.” You spoke softly, as Zoro turned his attention toward you, wondering who was this person who’d caused you to feel so…sad. 

He didn’t realize it but he felt a slow anger build up, one he excused as frustration due to your mumbling but not one out of simply, probably, jealousy.

Yes, he was jealous of….this person because it sure as hell seemed as though you were deeply in love to have been feeling like this. 

Ironic.

“Why do I even like him?” Oh, he definitely did not want to hear you talk about him, he decided.

Screw being a good listener, he was already in a crisis when Luffy put him on the spot asking about whether he’d want a lover or not, and then him trying his best not to divert his gaze towards you, so instead he chose an option ( one he’d regret later on ) and gave a seemingly believable answer. 

Maybe a while ago, he’d have stuck to that answer, and actually no, he was sticking to it, quite well too.

That was until you stumbled onto the crew or more like in true Luffy fashion, were persuaded enough to stay. 

At first, he didn’t care enough. It was more so he didn’t particularly like you too. You were what he was not. Careless, overly enthusiastic at times, and way too optimistic for your own good. You looked to see the good in everyone, believing that there was always some sort of goodness in everyone.

Zoro found that stupid, knowing how reality was always different. Everyone is and will always be selfish for their own greed. He was too, he wanted to fulfill his promise and that was it. 

That was his goal and nothing else really mattered to him.

It’s what he thought would remain the same till he accomplished it but a sudden diversion came in the form of well…you.

He didn’t even realize it but the annoyance he’d get when he heard your lame jokes turned into him looking away from your silly smile to try and hide his own forming grin.

How he’d always automatically be looking for you if they’d stop at an island, choosing to follow you and dismissing Nami’s suspicious glances by saying you’d likely do something stupid that might put everyone in danger if left alone.

It was funny what this could make anyone feel. He didn’t ever feel like this, he didn’t even want to admit he was close to feeling but how long could a person remain in denial?

He was in love with you. 

He couldn’t simply excuse his heart racing at your presence as simply annoyance, he couldn’t excuse finding pretty flowers and them reminding him of you as well….yeah you get the point. 

That revelation honestly made him spiral into a sort of existential crisis. 

So he decided it was best to do one thing.

Ignore it. Ignore everything and simply wait until it all fades away. 

But silly him, he didn’t know one thing about love and he assumed it was something that fades away, yet there it was, in his gaze as it softened and in his heart as it sunk slowly like an anchor. 

Clogging his throat as if he couldn’t simply breathe when you admitted to being in love with someone, someone who wasn’t him.

Ah love and its magical stuff, yet why does he feel like it's more of a curse right now? 

He opened his mouth, and closed it again, resembling a fish and it felt like he wanted to say everything yet nothing.

They probably don’t deserve you. 

The thought resonated in his head, but really who was he to say so because did someone like you even deserve him?

Turning to face him completely, ducking your hand under your head, you blinked at him slowly, a grin forming on your face as you saw the stranger’s hair.

“You…you remind me of him, your hair, it’s that ugly color.” You softly giggled to which Zoro was left in yet a contradiction of emotions, whether or not he should feel offended or light over the sound of your soft giggles. 

Wait. 

“Come closer, I’ll tell you a secret.” He blinked at you, trying not to show any emotions and wondering if you’d ever even talk to him like this sober.

Deciding to follow what you said, something he’d never do if you were sober, he leaned in, putting one arm as support to hold him due to the slightly uncomfortable position. 

“I- don’t laugh at me first of all, it’s ridiculous, Nami says I’m being too much of a coward not saying it upfront.” You looked at him to which he nodded, in your mind you presumed it was reassurance and agreeing to not find you ridiculous.

Somehow, despite you not knowing who was in front of you, your heart was picking up in pace and you felt a slight nervousness, actually, you almost felt like throwing up.

As if you were just about to actually…

“I think, actually no, I am definitely in love with Zoro.”

…confess to Zoro. 

Good thing, Zoro had quick reflexes because he felt his arm slip and if it weren’t for those quick reflexes, he’d have fallen face-first into the ground. He sat up straighter as if what he heard had physically burned him. 

“It sounds ridiculous, falling in love with someone like him but he’s actually a very loveable person, at least once he begins to get more…more comfortable around you. He talks less, shows emotions or any reactions even less, always carrying around a bitch face- Nami says so- but-but he also cares through his actions like-like that one time he found Luffy’s straw hat when he thought he lost- he spent hours helping him look for it and trying to keep Luffy from crying and then, then this other time he stayed up all night when I got hurt and wasn’t able to sleep. And-and there’s sooo many other times he’s done, the small things, he cares for that.”

“You know. I think that was when I knew I loved him.  When he didn’t need to stay up, yet he did to make sure I didn’t die or something.” You finished with a soft giggle as memories of that day flashed in front of your closed eyes. 

Suddenly he felt way warmer than the room was. 

“I know, I know you’ll…you’ll call me stupid for loving someone who’s already in fact rejected me, not-not to my face of course but indirectly I suppose.”

Wait, what?

Rejected you?

How could he do that when- when he didn’t-

“I hate this! I hate the way I feel, it- it’s making me feel pathetic.” Your words slurred as you whined, using your makeshift pillow to groan into.

“Who said love is magical? It’s pathetic! It makes you stupid enough to have stupid hopes that only make you fly high until suddenly the actual reality crashes you down hard.” You spoke somberly, your words slowly fading out as you gave into the alcohol-induced sleep.

“Love is…pathetic. But- but I love him. So much. I love…you.” The last word came out as a hush as you exhaled, shutting your eyes and letting go of the pillow as you finally got knocked out. 

It pained him to see you call yourself pathetic…all while being the reason you felt that way. 

Zoro was conflicted. The contradiction of emotions making him all do,

Nothing. 

He was frozen. He couldn't say a word, couldn't raise his hand to rub your back to perhaps comfort you. 

His mind was in more chaos, your words replaying like a loop. 

And finally, he came to a conclusion.

I need a drink. Fuck, maybe even three. 

Perhaps if you were awake, it’d be a different reaction. Perhaps if you weren’t drunk, you’d have not said it. 

The idea of you then getting over him, probably because you’d think he rejected you indirectly due to his words. This left a more bitter aftertaste in his mouth and mind than the beer he just downed.

He left your side, deciding he needed a breather to process what he’d just been told. He made sure you’d be in a comfortable position, placing your arms to your sides and even draped a sad excuse of a blanket, one that you brought yourself of an old woman when you had stopped at an island and one you loved, sad excuse because it was very thin but apparently you couldn’t sleep without it. 

He had turned back to you, one more time, about to say something but he just sighed and turned around, walking away to where he was now. 

Now, almost halfway through the crate of beers, he still couldn’t get rid of the confusion. 

Did- did you mean it?

It was conflicting because for one you said it under the influence, maybe you’d even meant someone else and just said his name by mistake. He hated that, so he chose to focus on you saying it solely for him. 

“Why-just why are you trying to die of alcohol poisoning? What is up with you idiots drinking like maniacs today?” A voice said in both disgust and concern as she walked up beside him, facing the sea, and then looking at him, the concern being evident as she saw the conflict of emotions on his face.

She knew he wasn’t one to speak up, it was rather his body language and eyes that spoke what he felt. 

He just sighed, taking a smaller sip of the drink, placing both arms on the side of the ship, and observing the waves.

Nami truly wondered what could have happened until she realized. 

“Did something happen with Y/N?” She cooly asked, observing his expression and surely enough a change of emotion was seen with the way he suddenly stiffened up.

“Nothing remarkable–”

“Oh cut the crap Zoro, you look like someone stole your fucking swords and threw them into the sea.” 

Now he turned towards her, a slight look of horror while he narrowed his eyes at her,

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Won’t deny anything. But, don’t change the topic.”

“They told’ you something?” She figured she should just straight up ask it, put it out in the blue, out of the bad.

Zoro contemplated whether he should spill it, feeling like maybe it would be invading your privacy but even if he didn’t want to admit it, he needed some sort of advice. 

“They- uh told me they lo- well see-” He shifted his attention back to the sea, finding it hard to say it to her face without giving away much. 

Technically you confessed but also you didn’t? You ranted about being in love with Zoro and how you wished you didn’t, you did that thinking you were spilling it to a stranger but it was the man himself so is that a confession? 

“So they finally did it?” He turned towards her raising his eyebrows in question, “They confessed?” 

Now he was surprised but how accurate she was, “ They are too coward- no offense- to do it while sober so ‘figured from the way you look like” She pointed towards his face with her finger “They either kissed you, which doesn’t seem evident from your face not being smothered with lipgloss, they confessed.” 

He gulped from his active imagination flashing a picture of you kissing him and how-

“But why are you so freaked out then? Shouldn’t you be happy your silly little crush is mutual?”

“It wasn’t a confession. More like a rant, they thought I was someone else and they basically spewed it all, and wait what do you mean mutual- I don’t uh-”

“Oh don't give that bullshit now. I know- in fact, even a blind person could see how in love you are with them.” 

Zoro didn’t know whether to get offended or embarrassed if it were really that obvious. He exhaled heavily, clearly not satisfied with the situation still. 

“What if they don’t even remember? What if they begin to ignore me because they think I don’t like them?” 

“Well you did say you weren’t looking for a partner or so on, did you forget that idiot?” Nami shook her head as she rolled her eyes at him.

“I-well- It wasn’t intentional! I panicked!”

“And now this is your consequence. Though there’s a simple solution to this crisis which isn’t a crisis actually, it’s pretty straightforward.”

Now he was curious, a way to solve this whole catastrophe? 

“Since you think they’ll forget by morning, how about you confront them then?”

“In the morning, you clear out your feelings before you dumbasses end up avoiding each other to purposefully brush this aside and I swear! I swear if it gets awkward because you both won’t look past your egos, I’ll force you into the damn cabin and lock you there to talk.”

Nam smiled sweetly, yet a threat underlined beneath her final words and Zoro thought of the only thing he should do now.

“Fine then.”

“I’ll talk. I’ll…confess to everything.”

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

feedback is always appreciated 💗

links : main navi ! | misc masterlist !

#[ pri works ] #one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro x you #one piece fanfiction #one piece live action #one piece ff #zoro fanfiction #zoro ff #one piece zoro #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #zoro drabbles #zoro opla #roronoa zoro x reader #opla #opla fanfiction

[miraculouslumination]

Just because twitter is collapsing and we'll probably be getting an influx of users coming back with extreme terf/exclus brain fungus;

Mspec lesbians and mspec gays are not your enemy!! They are not Ruining the Sanctity of lesbianism or gayness. They are not the reason why cis men are lesbophobic, and they are not why bigots can't take gay people seriously

They are NOT a community that uses a label made to describe a lesbian who is attracted to trans women. It was not made by terfs. It is a label that is largely used by queer people with a beautifully complex sense of sexuality, and/or oftentimes gender identity/identities

Mspec lesbians and mspec gays are simply a subset of the lesbian and gay community, much like the asexual lesbians, or aromantic gays, or the trans* lesbians or the non-he/him gays. These are diverse communities, and have been for decades, even centuries.

No one in the mspec lesbian and mspec gay communities are demanding anyone to do anything, especially in regards to a stranger's own sexuality. All they ask for and want is understanding, respect, and care. Just like the rest of us - just like you.

Mspec lesbians and mspec gays are people who have probably gone through a lot of inner reflection on who they are and what label they want. As you most likely have, as well, and so have I.

We all start off with the same question - "what am I?" - it's just that we all end up with our own answers, each one similar and different to each other.

We are a community. A family. Having a kneejerk "but!! My feelings!" is inevitable, especially with the more complex or obscure things, but that is something that should be temporary and then let go.

Do not let that hook of fear dig into you, because it won't lead you toward the bright future you want.

Fight it, open your mind, and listen to us

The world is always weirder than you think

#Jean mumbles #Mspec lesbian #Mspec gay #Queer #Queer community #LGBTQ #LGBTQ+ #MOGAI #MOGAI community

[angels-fantasy]

Girlyyyy I love your writing I just binged all your fics 😭😭😭 but anyway, I have a request.

Yknow how Bakugou is a comfort character to a lot of people, what if Reader was his favourite character from his favourite show (maybe a slice of life or romance anime where we're the second lead or a character who's not the main) and Bakugou listens to asmr audios of us or actively follows many accounts who write fanfictions about us and simp for us like we do for him 😔

This has been living rent free in my mind, so please indulge me 😔😔

You're His Favorite Character HeadCanons (Request)

Details: this is just me yapping tbh

Word Count: 202

imagining bakugou simp over someone is actually so funny LMAOO i love this idea thank you for it your mind is so powerful. btw i'm doing this in a more head-canon style if that's okay! i honestly couldn't really think of a plot for this but i really liked the idea 😭 if u ever wanna keep talking about it tho you can definitely message me or send more stuff to my inbox!! i love talking so don't be shy

firstly i feel like when he first starts watching anime, he'd watch more action packed ones, but slowly got into romance after he found the anime you were in!!

i think if it was a romance anime that'd be really cute. though you wouldn't be the main character, but the main characters best friend or something so you don't have a love interest bc Bakugou would probably get jealous tee hee

also if he read fics about you, he'd def go for some classic fluff me thinks. or maybe like an enemies to lovers!! i think he'd like a little angst with it as well, bc he's an angsty boy

i think that he would read all about your character and rewatch clips of you on youtube, yk? idk thats what i do for characters i really like lolol.

he'd probably be really secretive about his crush on you and make sure to not let anyone know he watches y/n asmr videos 😩 omg and if your character has merch he'd def buy it, maybe even a figure or something too!

but ultimately he's just obsessed with you and thinks your gorgeous and you guys are in love in his head 😍

authors note

i'm so sorry this was so short 😞 i hope you still enjoyed it! thank you sm for your message :)

tags for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #anime #writers on tumblr #fanfic #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #my hero academia #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo headcanons