#fuck I'm getting emotional just writing this

[dumbass-sappho-stan]

hit first and hit hard || challengers

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ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴀʟᴅꜱᴏɴ, ᴘᴀᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴢᴡᴇɪɢ, ᴛᴀꜱʜɪ ᴅᴜɴᴄᴀɴ

— fem! reader

summary: the tennis girl weaves her way through simple lover's quarrels and one manipulative blonde boy.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦(?), 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴/𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 sleepy 𝘛𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘋𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜɪ! ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ, ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ! ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ.

​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇩​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇹​: 7.7k

Read Part One here!

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙬𝙤: 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧

𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙁𝙊𝙍𝘿, 𝘾𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙄𝘼, 2007

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺

The days following your fight with Art were rife with silence and solitude. Sequestered alone in your dorm, you lay there either working on your piling homework or listening to 'emo'-esque music to help funnel your emotions, but that still didn't help.

As much as you hate to admit it the one thing that did was tennis. Wanting to avoid Art and even Tashi, you went as early as possible. Every morning since the fight for at least a solid week, you got up at 4:30 AM, dressed, jumped the court fence to practice for about 5 hours, and exited just as the other 'early' players showed up.

It invigorated you to be energized early in the day and you sometimes smashed the ball or even your racquet if you felt like it. Being alone wasn't a new circumstance for you but it was certainly novel as of late. You were so used to Art's presence on the court and in your life.

Dinners were spent together, and silly chats you two had were the norm for at least a year. Not to mention the bizarre push and pull with the romantic tension between you two. Even before Stanford, you'd labored to get his phone number, after begging Tashi for a few days and speaking to him on the phone constantly.

Though, the blonde seemed just as ardent as you in your aversion to one another. He had tried calling you multiple times and texting but it was fruitless. You'd picked up the phone once to only put it back down.

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"I'm so sorry," Art sobbed, he sounded as if someone had stabbed him, "I'm so, so sorry." You said nothing and stayed neutral. You, unfortunately, picked up the phone after Donaldson had called it 23 times in the past 2 days, and decided the 24th would be the last. It was time to be the bigger person and end the fight between you two.

"Me too, Art." Muttering drily you heard his hiccups stop, and a loud sigh of relief. You could almost feel the weight being lifted off of his shoulders.

He whispered your name softly, "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I wanted to say what I thought you wanted."

A sharp pain shot through your chest as those lethal words left his lips and pure white-hot vexation replaced whatever emotion had been there previously. It was silent between the two of you, which confused the boy.

Art called your name but was interrupted, "You know what I want Art Donaldson?" You roared, "For your fucking castration to be slow and painful!"

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The poor cutesy, pink Motorola Razr was no longer a phone after the conversation and lay shattered on your floor for days before you finally felt bad and threw it out. Your new one, a hue of bright cherry red, felt much more fitting for this new lifestyle.

Tashi you didn't actually avoid, more like you didn't tell her what was wrong. If beating around the bush was a professional sport you would've left tennis ages ago. Every time you and Tashi would be talking, in your small instants outside of your room or the court that week, Art would approach and you'd immediately give these automated lines;

"Oh shit, Tashi, sorry I got an essay to write!"

"Oops! I forgot I had a thing I have to get to so.."

"It's what time? I gotta go walk my fish!"

Ausispously, these went unnoticed by Tashi because in every single one of the instances you slipped away back to your dorm and to your desolation, without as much as a blink from your friend. If you weren't so content in your loneliness you probably would have been much more uncertain or at least unhappy about her sudden disconnect from you, but chalked it up to Patrick being in town for a longer period.

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𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞

𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞

The loud pounds landed dully against your door and woke you up immediately. Your body sat up and the sun's harsh blare into your tiny room flashed in your face, nearly blinding you upon waking up. You frantically glanced around your dorm room, seeing if it was something inside rather than external.

But no, all in your room were your postered walls full of music artists, art pieces themselves, silly photos of you and your friends from home (though most of those photos were overshadowed by Tashi's), and other miscellaneous items that sat around. In the small moment of silence between pounds, you began to slightly enjoy the pleasing sight of how pretty your room looked in the California dawning sun.

However, you were quickly slapped back into reality because the pounding had not ceased; seemingly getting louder if it was imaginable. What the fuck... That specific thought rattled through your foggy brain and your face contorted to deep confusion—even fear. Yet, you finally got the motivation to gradually inch toward the door, not even knowing who the fuck could be on the other side. The door rattled and shook explosively the closer you got until a hand to the handle.

The metal felt cool and smooth under your grasp. Soon flinching at the pounding and slightly wondered how your neighbors didn't get pissed off yet. But, you focused and opened the door.

Then there he was, Patrick Zweig, in all his glory posed in a mid-pound gesture at your dorm room door, staring straight at you.

"Hi,"

"Hey..."

Patrick soon pushed his way past you, walking into your dorm unphased. "Okay, just come right in.." You muttered, shutting the door behind you before turning to him. He stood in the middle of your room, inspecting it like he's the fucking DA. Nevertheless, he looked quite pretty as he was dressed in a simple white t-shirt with some dorky slogan and jorts—fit for California weather.

The silence was palpable between you two, Patrick seemed unbothered, almost jovial, and the signature devilish glint in his eyes. You, in contrast, glared at him like he was the spawn of Satan.

"Don't you look joyful?" Patrick chuckled, a playful smile soon following. Your scowl didn't budge but despite that, he came toward you with arms open wide, and enclosed you in a hug, "I'm certainly happy to see you." His words were muffled in the tangled mess that was your hair at this early of an hour. You hugged back briefly, then pressed him off.

"Pounding at my door at..." You glanced at the digital clock, "Jesus Christ, 7:15 in the morning?!" A small chuckle left Patrick again at his ability to get a rise out of you. You crossed your arms angrily and pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh.

"Well, I'm eager to see one of my two special girls," He quipped, leaning back on your window sill with a surprising suaveness. That had become his nickname for you and Tashi over the past months. His 'special' girls were his way of flirting with you and getting on your nerves all at the same time. Both he and your best friend found it hilarious.

"Zweig, you have a pretty fucking odd way of showing 'enthusiasm'," A scoff left your lips just as you sauntered to the bathroom that was tangent to your room. The brunette soon followed and leaned on the doorway as you started your routine.

"I adore you, pookie!" A shutter audibly left you when he drawled out the terribly cheesy nickname. That one was the worst.

"Bleugh," You gagged, "Jesus Christ, Patrick why can't you be normal?" Somehow you frowned even deeper if that was even possible.

The boy laughed in reply, "Because who would be around to force you to have some fun?" Patrick looked at you with those eyes, his pretty forestry eyes that have broken hearts all across the country, they were meant for you. It made you want to stare back with your own, basking in it like a summer's day. And that smile, god— his smile was the sun itself. If Art was the ice, Patrick was the fire, the sun. The sun's light could always melt the winter's snow, you assumed he was with Tash for that similar reason. Opposites attract.

You started to feel yourself blush, your mind overthinking and repeating thoughts that all were about him, Patrick.

Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

Hastily, you rushed to turn on the faucet and started to forcefully wash your face. Hopefully, it would wash away the shame that overtook the sudden rush of emotions for your best friend's boyfriend. Damnit, this is what happens when you don't get laid for a week... Scolding yourself internally, you washed your face and sighed to look back at him. As you expected, his eyes were still on you. But something had changed, the playfulness just wasn't there. It was something else, but you didn't have the time to place it before he looked away.

"So," Patrick spoke your name, "I haven't seen you for my entire time here, and..." He paused for effect, "I missed you."

You gasped dramatically and put a hand to your chest, "Me? Patrick Zweig misses me?" Teasing him with a smile, "What an honor! What's next, I get taken to the Dollar Tree?"

Laughter bounced off the small walls as the two of you were terribly unfunny and it was mutually known. It didn't stop you two from laughing at the stupidity of it. The laughter endured for a moment or two before it died down.

"But really," Patrick started to pull himself together, "I did miss you. Y'know how Art is these days, and Tashi only wants to talk about fucking tennis..." He stepped closer to you, close enough for his hand to slightly caress your free arm. "You're honestly my only friend right now..."

You laugh awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere from his own. Patrick was looking at you, you knew it, but if you looked now you wouldn't be responsible for what you would do after. Self-control was one of the better traits you'd taken from Tashi—you stepped away from his touch and smiled thinly.

"Oh come on Patrick," The shitty tile of your bathroom floor seemed more and more interesting as the seconds passed, "Tashi's just trying to help you." You knew what he was referring to as Tashi complained of Patrick's inability to listen to criticism.

Patrick scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, regardless didn't reply. He dropped the subject, realizing ages ago you'd always choose to defend Tashi over anyone else. He shifted back to his original plan.

"Okay, that's whatever, would you like to go out tonight then?" He asked, his original jovial tone returning, and suddenly like that, everything was okay. The bizarre tension was gone and you could meet his gaze with a knowing face.

"I'll think about it." That answer seemed good enough for Patrick, you witnessed a cheesy exclamation and a terrible fist pump to follow. You sighed at his absurdity but it finally got him out of your doorway as he sauntered back out to your room.

"Great! I'll see you at 8 tonight," He announced, walking toward the door and out the door before he could hear your faint, "Patrick I don't-"

It was suddenly silent in your dorm again. Which, you were grateful for as it meant now you had time to concentrate; you could possibly continue your new 15-step life plan of isolation and become the second-best tennis-female player of all time, Tashi would be the first. Or get black-out drunk tonight and forget all about everything. Each option was very crucial.

A few hours of homework later, you had determined two things like you had done a week ago. One, yes you did need to get black-out drunk, Two, you had to make more male friends that weren't your best friend's boyfriend or said boyfriend's best friend.

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The club was hot and sweaty, it felt as if it'd swallow you whole with the number of people who crowded around you. Dancing, grinding, touching. You hadn't drunk enough alcohol for you to start to enjoy this feeling so off to the bar you went. Patrick followed in tandem, keeping a good trail on you as he was the "designated driver", though you were sure that both of you were going home in a taxi that night.

Patrick ordered a round of 10 shots of assorted types of strong-smelling alcohol and smiled at you, though the smile made you queasy. It exactly mirrored Tashi's smile when she forced you to do shit.

"My favorite girl, pick your poison," The brunette snickered, taking in the blank features that had taken over. "Unless you're a pussy."

"Oh, I'm a pussy?" You raised your eyebrow in defiance, "Please, Patrick, watch and learn." Mirroring his confident smirk, you picked up one random shot and took it back. Then another, and another, and another... Soon there were only 3 shots left for your friend and your tongue started to go numb. The boy laughed at your efforts and followed your lead by taking the rest of the shots.

Shortly, you were on the dance floor, the colored lights seemed so much more welcoming and the touch of strangers felt like a blaze. You drunkenly danced with Patrick, spinning and moving against each other, hands above the waist for both of you as it felt anything but personal. Occasionally you two would make eye contact for too long and would just erupt in giggles and he'd take you for another spin. Patrick knew how to have fun and pulled you along for the ride.

During some Nelly Furtado song, you'd finally gotten fatigued of the club after who knows how long of dancing, drinking, and other illicit activities that involved a certain plant. You tugged at Patrick's collar of his shirt and he stopped his movement.

"Patrick," You slurred, "I wanna go home.." He looked down at your figure and nodded his head. Patrick led you off of the dance floor and finally outside of the club. You clutched onto his shirt on the walk to the car, which honestly felt like miles. Patrick filled the air with little comments about the people who had filled the club and it made you giggle. Though, as drunk as you were anything could've made you laugh.

"Yes! The car!" The grip on his shirt tightened as you through one of your hands in the air in celebration, "I'm so fuckinggg... tired.." You dragged out your constants as you both made your way to the car. Ultimately, it was more like Patrick was walking and you slanted onto him, trotting along.

"Mhm," Patrick hummed, he'd kept one hand on your waist but you hadn't really noticed it. There were many things you didn't notice in your inebriated state.

Patrick, luckily, hadn't drunk as much as you and was sober enough to drive you home. You laid your head comfortably on the window as you observed the blackened city and yellowed road soar past you. It was serene, you and Patrick. It was the first time in the past week you felt a smidge above the bare minimum. Your head was hazy and everything felt so miniature; boxed in.

The ride home was rather reserved, with no one speaking other than you drunkenly giving him directions to your dorm. Eventually, after he had to call Tashi, he stopped in front of the building.

"We're here, Sleeping Beauty," Patrick murmured quietly, slightly nudging you with his hand. When you responded with a groan, he sighed and got out of the car. You perked up a bit and lazily followed his figure until he opened the door. The lack of movement signaled to Patrick that he would be the one to get you out of this car.

Patrick heaved you out of your seat, to your disdain, and he held you close as he closed the passenger door behind you. Your face was squashed in the curve of his neck. He smelt like really lovely cologne and sweat.

Looking up at him, Patrick met your gaze with his own and smiled, "Hi." You smiled back, "Hey.." His hand stayed trained on your waist and you felt that warmth. The fervor you felt that night in the hotel room. It pooled deep inside of you, and it made the stupid smile on your face grow even wider.

"What are you smiling at?" Patrick grinned at your behavior and his hand that had been unlocking the door moved up to cup your cheek. Both of you stood there under the cloak of the night sky, staring foolishly at one another. He softly said your name, "What are you smiling at, pretty girl?"

The tone of his voice was something you'd never be able to interpret in your lifetime. Forgotten among memories and the intoxication, you thought about what led to the position you were in years later, and next to that night in the hotel room, this seemed to be another flick to the dominos collapsing.

Patrick didn't wait for your response, his lips were already on yours. He felt needy in this kiss, it was long and passionate. Your eyes were clenched shut, the euphoria you felt from being so out of it momentarily leaving your body to replace it with stone-cold regret. The kiss was split when you finally pushed one hand to his chest.

"Patrick?" You muttered, "What the fuck?" Patrick's air sobered at your words. He looked at you, the mere panic very visible on his face. Had he fucked up?

"What?" The brunette laughed humorously, "Did I, erm..." He was searching through his lexicon to say anything that could save whatever the hell just happened.

The shame began to quickly devour you, a sickish feeling overtaking your senses. Whatever just happened mortified you to no extent. You staggered back from Patrick, finally meeting his frenzied eyes.

Your eyes started to gloss over and you cried. Tears fell freely down your face as you felt the humiliation slap you in the face. All of it. The humiliation of Art not even liking you, Tashi's carelessness this week, and then this. The culmination of the efforts from the four of you, kissing your best friend's boyfriend. Or rather he kissed you, but what was the true distinction?

"What the fuck Patrick!?" You roughly wiped the tears that continued to fall, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Patrick said nothing, only stared, so similar to his best friend.

"Jesus... The both of you!" You barked, "The both of you two fucking astound me." Your words were sharp and cutting bore into Patrick, apparently, that's what got him.

"What," His voice trailed off as his demeanor only heightened in puzzlement, "What do you mean both?"

"You and your fuck-face friend, that's who!" Your words blended together, as unfortunately, you were still pretty shit-faced. "You and Art fucking around with my head..."

Patrick tensed, "Art's fucking with your head?"

"Yes!" You replied, throwing your hands out in anger, "He's still in love with your girlfriend, and decided to fuck me on the side!"

Patrick's eyebrows raised, he knew Art was trying to manipulate the situation by trying to break him and Tashi apart but he didn't know that you were weaved in here too.

"That's... fucked up." He attempted to comfort you, very awkwardly.

"Yes, it is fucked up Patrick, almost as fucked up as you kissing me." You shot back venomously, narrowing your eyes at him. Patrick went quiet for a beat. He looked at you, looked away, and back at you. He seemed to be deliberating something.

"There's nothing fucked up about it," He finally answered, "I wanted to."

An involuntary gasp slipped from your lips. Your face contorted. "What?"

"I want you."

It felt like a gallon of cold water splashed on you. You stumbled back even further from the boy, your expression no longer confused but mortified.

Thundering down the sidewalk, you callously ran to where you didn't know. You heard Patirck's calls after you but they didn't matter. It wasn't as if he ran after you. The haze from everything that had happened still lingered as you ran. The thoughts bombarded your mind aimlessly, wondering what Patrick meant or what he might say to Tashi.

Tashi...

You'd raced so far that you were there at her dorm, which was seated right next to the tennis courts. Vision hazy, you tumbled into the building. It felt dingy and humid and walking through the corridors you tripped about six times and fully fallen over 3; that didn't stop you though from your destination.

By the grace of god, you handled yourself well enough to place three ordered knocks on Tashi's door, then slump to the floor with a deep sigh. Honestly, you didn't expect her to open the door. You didn't know what time it was but it was late enough into the night (or the early hours of the morning), that the rest of the world was silent.

Everything went silent for a moment as you stared at that wooden door. You focused on a dent in the door itself, right near the handle. You were so immersed in the indentation that you didn't notice the door hinged open.

"Well, well, well... look who it is," Tashi stared down at you with a slight smile. There she was.

"Tashi!" Your mood was instantly lifted at her company and smiled right back. The nastiness, the dread, and the remorse were lifted instantly once you saw her. She let out a sigh once she saw your state— your outfit was skimpy, mascara and eyeliner were smeared all over your face, and you looked like you'd cried a river.

"Christ," She sighed out your name, "Can't you have a good night?"

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You and Tashi lay on her bed peacefully, and you exchanged no sentiments in those moments. She'd washed you up from your sordid state and now she was tracing designs in the curve of your hip. Tashi laid her chin on your head and you nestled on her collarbone. This was a frequent situation for either of you, as, during tournaments during your adolescent year, nights were spent braiding each other's hair, swapping secrets with smiles, and just being girls.

"So, are we going to talk about it?" Tashi hummed, staring out into her own cluttered room. Smiling like a fool you replied, "Talk about what?"

"Art, he told me about what happened." She continued, her hand moved from your hip to your hair. Tashi threaded her fingers through it gently and you let out a giggle.

"Pfft, Art.. that stupid, dumb blonde," Laughter filled the room, and you drew your head away from Tashi to meet her. "He's just stupid, that's all."

Tashi held back her own laughter at your intoxicated words, "I see.." You nodded in confirmation and laid back down cuddled back in. "Well, I just wanted you to know that this week I wasn't trying to avoid you," She resumed, "Art just told me about your emotional state, and knowing you, I know you like space."

You hoisted your head again and sneered, "You'd believe that twink?" Tashi giggled and rolled her eyes, "I don't think you can say that anymore," She spoke your name in a scold, "But, yes I did, he's pretty fucking convincing you know."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Convincing my ASS," Your eyebrows drew together in irritation at the mention of the boy, "He's stupid, just like the other one.."

Dead air obscured the room again, the only sound being you and Tashi's breathing. The warmth you'd felt from the alcohol returned again, but it felt different. It didn't feel as murky or slowing, it felt good. Yet, the disgrace from earlier was still in the back of your mind. You knew the next day would hold so much bullshit for you and your friend depending on Patrick's efforts or if Art decided to tell Tashi whatever Patrick would recount to him. The involvement of the two boys had made everything so muddled.

"Tashi,"

"Hm?"

"Promise me you'll love me forever?" You asked quietly, finally breaking the tranquility. The voice you had dawned felt foreign to you, it was desperate, vulnerable. Tashi pulled herself away from you to meet your eyes. Her deep sharp eyes scrutinized you with an unreadable gaze.

"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to laugh it off with a dry chuckle.

"I said what I meant," You slurred in reply, a pout, "Will you love me forever?"

Tashi scoffed, "I'm not fucking Mother Theresa," She said your name with a mocking edge. "You're my best friend, I..." Tashi stopped to carefully phrase her words so you could understand in your blitzed condition. "I like you more than any other person on planet Earth."

Your pout formed into a frown, and you stayed silent. Tashi then exhaled wearily, knowing she'd hurt your feelings but didn't say anything. It was a staring contest that you wouldn't win. Tashi did like you a lot, more than she liked her family, friends, and her boyfriend. But she wasn't good at pretending—she couldn't pretend she loved more than one thing. She loved one thing, and one thing only; Tennis.

"Then I'll love you enough for the both of us." That response caught Tashi off guard and she blanked. "I'll love you seeds and all, Tashi Duncan." The announcement of your love for her wasn't on the list of things Tashi thought she would've heard tonight. A nervousness overtook her but you didn't notice, you just stared in determination.

"Seeds and all?" Tashi questioned, her demeanor shifted to something a bit fainter, similar to yours.

"Yes, Tashi, seeds and all," You said it as if it was the most common thing in the world and laid back down. A sudden wave of exhaustion had washed over you, it was so easy to fall asleep. Despite this, Tashi stayed awake and watched you. It wasn't uncommon for you to say sappy shit and for Tashi to combat it with banter, but this felt more amorous; for the first time in the girl's life, she felt confused.

Tashi glanced back down at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful and pretty. An involuntary grin graced her features as she lay next to you. Her face was inches away from your own, bringing her hand to brush away some stray pieces of your hair to simply stare at you.

"I love you too," The girl muttered your name, kissing the apple of your cheek, turning around to her side of the bed, and falling into a slumber soon after. Tashi had assumed you were sleeping and wouldn't remember it even if you weren't. But, unfortunately for her, you had heard.

Tashi Duncan loved you.

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𝘾𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄, 𝙊𝙃𝙄𝙊, 2011

𝘊𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪 𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯

The hotel bar's music softly played through the speakers, setting a particular homely affection amid the room. A few people were there, tennis players and normal patrons alike, drinking or crying over their loss today. Cincinnati, Ohio was one of the last stops any of these players had of making it to the US Open but unfortunately, they didn't make the cut.

You on the other hand? The 15-step plan was in motion but this time you'd be first. Going pro three years ago was one of the best decisions you'd made, in your life. The dream was cradled in the palm of your hand. Young, beautiful, determined, the brands just ate you up.

Being sponsored by Nike, doing commercials for popular products, and selling out was pretty amicable. The celebrity that came with it was a sweet taste that you sunk your teeth in. People shouted your name on the street and begged for your signature, they wanted you. The only downside was that now and again you'd have to see him.

God, You thought, when was the last time I heard this song... Instead of nursing your drink, you glanced around the room, observing the players. You recognized some from previous competitions and some you'd played today. Suddenly, noticing how everyone had someone to talk to, it was exposing to be the lone person at the bar. At 23 and no man, for now, was a smidge uncomfortable.

So why were you holding her hand?

Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you...

While scanning the room, you saw her, sitting there with her computer propped up and sporting a shorter hairstyle. A jolt surged through you, you'd seen enough of her today, and you swiveled your head back forward. Another bad move, there he was. The blonde shaggy curls bedazzled you when he strolled in. Art Donaldson walked through the room and the world stopped turning.

Art walked into the bar in search of something. He just didn't know what. For the past few weeks since the Atlanta Open, he'd been on edge; for what he didn't really know. The looming task of the US Open had been teasing him for years, but he was young. He had time to play and win it, this year might just be his year. Though that's what he told himself. The US Open was what he was worried about. Yes, nothing more, nothing less, and absolutely not about certain brunettes.

Art made eye contact with you for a split second. A look flashed across both of your faces, both with varying feelings. Art's face showed an emotion of enchantment, like seeing a rare jewel. You looked like you swallowed sour milk. You shifted your gaze away from him and back to your drink. The alcohol stung your nose.

But I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger...

Do you have to let it linger?

A shiver strained through you, wondering if the universe was truly trying to get you to buy 30 mg of fentanyl and a bottle of vodka. Art you were used to, both of you were established and young tennis players, it was foretold the two of you would cross paths after that day. Every time it did happen there were formalities exchanged between you two, and then you'd take 4 shots of the choice of alcohol that night and cry.

Art peeked back at you once more before back on his path to Tashi. She was perfect, he had known that fact since the day he met her. Shoved on the pedestal, his fiance typed stormily at her computer, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

A smile grazed his face, "Hey," He sat down across from her. Tashi barely acknowledged him with a nod. Art sighed and tapped on the rim of her computer, "Hey Tashi..."

Tashi exhaled and lips thinned, "Hi, what's up?" She curtly replied, "I'm working right now on our deal with Nike," Art's confidence slightly buckled under her glare and apparent annoyance with him.

"Oh, well, nothing..." He trailed off with his smile being replaced with a slight pout, unfortunately for Art, this irritated the coach more. "Well, then get out of my face. You have a game tomorrow," She articulated concisely instructed him with a tone a mother would use, "A game you need to win."

Art straightened up a bit, winning was important, he knew that but he missed Tashi. His paranoia surely wasn't helping her curtness as of recently, but he was still relegating it to US Open nerves. He just needed to win and it'd be fine. "Okay," He agreed, "I'll see you upstairs?" The blonde was met with a quick nod, the sound of typing only emitted.

"I love you."

"I know."

Art left the table with a sullen expression on his features, but you didn't know that. Now you were focused on what type of wood the table was, to avoid thinking about when was the last time the three of you were in the same room. Maybe it's maple.... Your thoughts were soon cut off by a buzz from your phone. The iPhone 4 buzzed madly in your pocket and you pulled it out.

It was some random number you didn't have on your phone.

415-xxx-xxxx

𝘏𝘪, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬.

𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 3𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.

𝘖𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳��𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.

A miniature smile begged to come onto your features, even texting you could hear the way he'd talk with his comforting, careful diction. But then the meaning of the message settled deep inside you. He wanted to meet you up? Why? Confusion replaced the thick nostalgia as the cogs in your head started to work. It confused you, but you were intrigued. Plus, what was the worst that could happen?

212-xxx-xxxx

𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·

Idily standing in the dingy ice room, you'd start contemplating your life choices. Specifically, the ones that led you to this moment. Why did you approve of this? Why did you go to that fucking bar? You're not even supposed to drink the day before a game. Oh, that's right, you remembered, Patrick Zweig.

♬☆♬☆♬☆

Earlier that day...

The cooling feeling of the concrete against your back felt like pertinent compensation after a day of sprinting around in the sun. You'd finally made it to the semi-finals after dominating through the bracket, some you'd played against during earlier tournaments, others were just painless to beat and move on to the following one. Nonetheless, the girl you'd just played had given you a run for your money. Not because she was good, but because you were distracted.

Tashi Duncan, coach of the FAMOUS Art Donaldson, observed your match. You'd noticed her when perusing the stands after the first game when you were looking for your friend who had come to cheer you on. Seeing her was the biggest mistake of your game, serve after serve it'd either be out or barely touched the net. It was utterly embarrassing and you'd lost the second game by 15 love. When it was the break you'd skimmed only to find her gone.

It pissed you off. Who the fuck does she think she is? You clenched your water bottle angrily, your knuckles shy of a shade lighter than normal skin tone. The spite of Tashi leaving your game (or so you thought) had lit that flame that you doused years ago. The flame of insecurity produced by Tashi Duncan.

You were relentless against the girl, hitting the ball with your full strength each and every time. An intense volley had occurred in the middle of the game, so intense that your opponent fell face forward in an attempt to catch the shot (she did not). The stadium was silent other than the loud sounds of your grunts and anger. It was hotter than the concrete you played on but just as hard. It pissed you off so much that when you won, instead of your normal self-indulgent bow, you smashed your racquet to the floor and a roar. The crowd scarfed it down, hailing you as a passionate and beautiful player, tenacious against competition.

In all honesty, you just wanted to go home and cry, but you were hustled off the court to where you are now. Stranded in the hallway and lying in your muddled emotions. It was now the men's bracket, but you didn't plan on watching anyone. Particularly Donaldson. Yet, trying to make it out of the vacant hallway, a familiar face entered your vision.

"There's the golden girl!" No words in a dictionary could express the face you made at that moment.

"Oh my..." You muttered under your breath, turning around to see Patrick Zwieg, in all of his sleazy glory. "What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here Patrick?"

Patrick laughed with faux hurt, "Aw, aren't you just a ball of sunshine!" He tried to get closer to you but you edged back. He gauged your expression and sighed, "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me..."

You scoffed in disgust, "Christ Patrick, seeing you is like seeing a dog with cancer, it should be put down already." The brunette's lips pulled into a smirk, he crossed his arms and gave an irksome look.

"Well, I'm not a dog," He corrected, "I'm a cat and we got 9 lives." An exasperated sigh left your lips, your eyes meeting his with a tiredness. After the mind-fuck of seeing Tashi, you had no bandwidth for Patrick's bitchiness.

"I don't fucking care, Patrick," You hissed, finally starting back on your walk. Patrick started to slightly slip from his confidence, he hadn't expected this. He usually was able to keep you around for a good banter but you'd genuinely just stopped it this time. To keep you from going he snatched your forearm, keeping you from going any further.

Your glare deepened, "Let me go!" He didn't budge and kept you in place, although you started struggling to try and escape his strong grasp.

Patrick spoke your name calmly, "I just want to talk..." He sounded like he was talking to a feral cat. Grunting and now starting to whine, you struggled in an attempt to get away from him and this conversation. "About what? How you fucked over my best-" You stopped yourself, the word 'friend' died on the tip of your tongue. You two weren't friends, you hadn't been for years. Patrick caught this moment of vulnerability and used this.

"Friend? Please, she left you once you got better," He goaded with a sinister grin, "She couldn't stand that you could play and she couldn't."

The struggle became relentless as you started to shout for 'help' but it was useless. You were isolated. The best you'd gotten was dragging Patrick an inch or two across the floor, no escape was foreseen. A thin line formed on your lips as you glared.

"Shut up Patrick, don't fucking project your bullshit with Art on me,' You spat venomously, "He won, you're fucking losing, so what?"

Patrick chuckled drily, "Won what? The match? In case you forgot I won that-"

"NO!" You cut him off with a shout, "God no Patrick, he won at life. He's getting married to the girl you, and only you Patrick, lost because you're a dipshit." Face contorted into one of pure hatred for the man in front of you, and his hold finally slackened for you to draw your arm back.

Patrick rolled his eyes, "Newsflash, I slept with the girl I lost like.." He stopped speaking to count on his fingers, "Three weeks ago!" A triumphant and smug smirk graced his features.

"Great, so you can add home-wrecker to your tennis accolades?" You raised a brow and scoffed again, "You astonish me Zweig, you really do."

Patrick's grin didn't budge, "I aim to please," He did feel quite pleased with himself, and was even more pleased because he confidently believed you were jealous. Jealous that Tashi Duncan slept with him again and you didn't. He was sorely mistaken.

A heavy breath was taken in and you became focused. You knew exactly what you wanted to say to him, "Patrick, you may've fucking one that on match, let's say a battle." You began harshly, "But you didn't win the war, Art did."

Coming closer to Patrick to look him square in the eye, "Art is going to marry Tashi, he won. He will continue to win and be remembered." Patrick clenched his fists to try and calm himself, your words cutting in like serrated blades, "Who will you be Patrick?"

The question echoed throughout Patrick's mind, but you didn't waste time on his reply. Quickly, you stormed away after and resolved that the finest thing to do was to drink this moment away.

♬☆♬☆

A disgusted exclamation softly left your lips as you remembered that instant from today. Patrick always knew how to rile you up, to push your buttons until they'd break. At this point, you thought he enjoyed pissing you off. However, your internal monologuing was cut off by approaching footsteps. Darting up from the checkered carpeted floor, the blonde approached.

Art felt his palms begin to sweat when he saw your languid figure up against the vending machine. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him, even when looking like you wanted to kill him. He sauntered into the small corridor and shut the door behind him.

Then, he pivoted around to face you. A hush swallowed both of you. It had been the first time you two were alone in around 3 years, at least. Art looked nervous meanwhile you looked disinterested.

"So?" You asked expectantly, "What did you need to talk about?" Art uncoiled and bit his lip. What did he want to talk about again..?

"Oh uhm.." He stuttered, "Hi, so..." Art desperately combed his mind for an answer, "I just saw you and I..." He coughed awkwardly and shifted his weight, "I just wanted to know how you were."

You took a deep breath and then let out a sigh, "Great, so you wanted to waste my time?" Art visibly flinched at your response and his lips twitched in apprehension.

"No, I just missed you," He asserted quickly, trying to meet your tone. Art's deep blue eyes met your own and something tugged at your heartstrings. "We both missed you."

"We?" A wiry laugh echoed in the room, "I don't think Tashi misses me, Arthur, but a cute way of guilt-tripping me." You cooed mockingly with a smirk. A sour expression fell across Art's countenance at the use of his full government name.

Sighing, he leaned against the wall and; after a beat spoke, "We watched your name today," Art stared at you intensely, "You were good, but what fucked you up during the second game?"

You clenched your fists, annoyed that he had been there too. "I don't know, it's called none-ya."

"What's none-ya?" He asked, confused by your retort.

"None of ya fucking business, Donaldson," You shot, "We aren't friends, we don't have tea parties and talk about fucking tennis."

"Well," Art started calmly, holding himself together, "Why don't we talk about anything but tennis?" You smiled fakly at his offer and stepped toward him, the height difference not really being too big, close enough to meet eye to eye.

"Then why the hell are we talking, Art, if we're not talking tennis?"

Art was silenced by your reply and stared down at the floor. He understood why you were acting the way you were, you were hurt. Aching. He would be too if he were in your shoes. The boy knew it wasn't him that should be talking to you. If anything would be solved between you and him, it'd first have to be solved between you and his fiance.

So, he looked back up at you, "I don't know why are we still talking?" The way Art said your name triggered some deep-buried emotions you had killed many years ago along with your insecurities. It was the seductive, whiny nature of Art Donaldson that kept you awake during the hard, lonely nights and right now it was your reality.

The space between you two was barely existent, lips almost touching... Your phone buzzed. The moment was ruined instantly and you quickly plucked out your phone. It was your coach, texting you verbatim to 'GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP, NOW!' with five angry emojis.

Art's eyes searched your movements as you read the message. He was so intent on solving or fixing things with you tonight that he hadn't acknowledged that other outside forces could interfere. When he saw you play today and then back at the bar? It fell into place for him, he just had to have you again. He had to. He deserved it right?

You shoved Art aside and opened the door, focused on now going to sleep and preparing for your game tomorrow. Simply put, you didn't have time for stupid boys like Art Donaldson who wanted to play tennis with two balls. It was ineffective.

But, just as you were down the hallway he shouted, "Tashi misses you!" You ignored him, "She told me to tell you."

"Tell her," Turning around so he could directly hear you, "Tell her that she can go fuck herself, and," You had stopped speaking, storming off to right in front of the man, "Go fuck yourself too." It was easy to snatch the collar of his old grey hoodie and capture him in a kiss.

The clash of lips was a brutish one, Art being caught off guard and you kissing forcefully as if he was the last thing on earth. His hands traveled to your jaw and let you take control of the kiss.

It was a longer one, almost juvenile, letting yourself clash teeth or slightly push up against him. You finally pulled away, his bottom lip sliding through your teeth slowly, keeping eye contact while it bounced back in place.

The both of you were flushed a deep crimson, now both frustrated and sexually frustrated you let out an exclamation of anger and strode furiously down the hall, into the stairway.

There left was Art, his attempts hopeless and now he was alone. His hand shakily rose to his lips where you had just been. Fingers gently grazing his lip before letting out a shaky sigh. It'd been forever since he'd been caught so off-guard, it shook him inside. You always did, pushing his own buttons instead of yours. Art was always susceptible to your touch and words.

Yet, frowned when he thought of the way you had spoken to him tonight. You had become so jaded, so much more.. mean. It reminded him of how Tashi used to talk back at Stanford. Before the injury. How confident she was, somehow more than now, and how she had the world at the tips of her fingers. Art silently wished he'd handled that day differently than he did. But, deep down, he knew he didn't. Art got what he wanted at the end of the day, wasn't that beautiful?

ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

Hi! I really hope you guys liked this chapter, I really wanted to explore the character dynamics more and just flesh out the relationships. It'll get spicy, trusttt!

Please like or comment!! I would love to hear what y'all think or want for the plot, you guys were literally so, so nice in the last part!

Thank you for reading <3

🇹​​🇦​​🇬​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​:

@jackierose902109

@bloodyrevengedbullets

@ssababe

@skylerwhitwyo

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #patrick zweig x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader #art donaldson smut #tashi donaldson #x reader #fem reader #patrick zweig #challengers #love square #challengers fanfic

[suguru-getos]

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #stsg #satosugu #poly stsg #poly stsg x reader #stsg x reader #yandere stsg #yandere gojo #yandere geto #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk gojo #jjk geto

[seruadoric]

okay but ramming you headfirst w my brainrot but like jiyan(wuwa) probably a brat tamer right? tbh i cant really get into brat taming bc if my mans start being all mean to me i would /gen get upset esp in like the bed UNLESS its like done out of love. So like i can only imagine he ""brat"" tames his lover when they've done something he does not like and like i dont think jiyan is the type to get easily upset UNLESS you've like---say put yourself in harms way bc of him to like shield him from an attack or something then he'd fuck you meanly (after you've recovered obviously) anyways hello welcome to wuwa rot let us all go to hell amen

I HAVE SUCH A SOFT SPOT FOR JIYAN so many relationships/smut hcs for him 😔 afab!reader, slight voyeurism

personally, i don't see jiyan being too mean with you. rough as he is on the battlefield, he's much more tender and gentle with his companions.

but at times, he finds himself frustrated at your attempts to protect him ... he knows that you're coming from a good place, and that you really care for him — but he can fight for himself just fine.

so when he sees you injured for trying to shield him, his emotions just blow up ... ( nsfw under the cut )

"consider this your punishment." he growled into your ear, thick and girthy cock ramming into your cunt once more. pressing you up harder against the wall, he was not holding back. "i already told you i could handle myself out there, and you want to play hero?"

"look at yourself." whimpering and moaning against the wall, with jiyan's hand covering your mouth. you were a mess underneath him. "stay silent, or do you want someone else to hear you?" "j-jiya—" you managed to say, only for him to press himself harder inside you. "i told you to stay quiet."

another moan slips from your lips, and jiyan takes his hand off, instead exploring down your body. he felt your walls tightening around him, taking him in so good —

he groans, pushing himself deeper inside. "i'm close," he whispers in your ear, his cock throbbing against your womb. "do you want me to do it inside?"

with your nod, he plants his seed inside of your core, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. he gently pulls out, grabbing a cloth and cleaning the both of you up. "i hope you've learned your lesson, sweetheart." his demeanor was different than what you had just seen, as he placed a kiss on the corner of your lips. "... don't do that again."

this is highkey shitty 😭 i don't have much experience writing smut, so please forgive me if this wasn't as good ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა this is actually my first time writing smut scenes, so eckkck 😿

i might also write this but for amab!reader ... but i need someone to tell me so, since i'm not so good at writing for amab 😓

#𖹭 ࣪ zaira's works #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #i sont know if i understood the assignment #i wrote this at 3am so PLEASE have mercy on me 🙏 #im like still not fully awake but i cant sleep bro #i love jiyan #i just know he would be aftercare king

[selarina]

Bleeding Heart Dove

-> Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: In the quiet routine of a strained marriage, a simple proposal for a trip offers a glimpse of hope.

Tags: angst, slow burn, marriage au, marital strain, emotional hurt/comfort, implied emotional neglect, second chance au, rainy day, fluff, suggestive, mention of reader having boobs, unresolved tension (they need to fuck nasty), unedited

Word Count: 1,000 words

Author's Note: it's raining and I finally got a surge to write something <3 anyway, bleeding heart dovessssssss have my heart

Read on AO3

Today had been sad and gloomy, the rain pouring relentlessly as the clouds had been crying since noon.

He tried to make his entrance small, creeping in like a nimble thief in the night. Slowly, he removed his sodden shoes and coat, hanging them up to dry. His umbrella he placed on the ground, even more slowly. See, it was an old one, and tended to spring up and about with sudden movement.

He stepped inside the kitchen now. There was food on the table, just as always. He uncovered the plastic wrapping and placed it in the oven, not even bothering to check what was for dinner. Hunger was gnawing at him and he would eat a human hand if you let him.

"Hello," a voice cut through.

"Oh," he turned, startled. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"I was up anyway," you replied. Your business clothes clung to you like the remnants of a very weary day. You must have returned late as well. "Let me help, Nanami."

He didn't say anything, simply stepping aside to let you tend to his plate and yours. He had assumed he'd have the whole meal for himself, a strange notion given the portion size. But given that he hadn't eaten all day, he didn't question the rationality at first. Now, it made sense — you hadn't eaten either.

He started setting up the glasses, placing two for wine and two for water, movements mechanical and jittery.

"Here," you said, appearing before him with a corkscrew in hand, as if conjured by some quiet magic.

Your hands looked tired. Lagging. Your eyes bleary. An impulse stirred within him, as though a needle had pricked at his heart, he felt the urge to swipe his hands over your eyes, to wipe away the weariness. But he withheld.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking the corkscrew and setting to work on the bottle.

Your gaze lingered for a mere second on his hands, watching the way they flexed with the way he handled the bottle. Precise. Gentle.

"How was work?" you asked, turning to the oven.

He wonders if you actually cared about what he said. “Horrible,” he answered.

"Oh," you replied. Neutral. "Okay." Neutral again. It drove him a bit insane every time. But he was a calm man.

"And your work?" he asked.

"Oh, quite lovely," you replied, a soft, dove-like smile gracing your lips. It was a smile that brought a sting of sadness to his heart, for he knew you would not elaborate. Not for him.

"That's nice," he said, his voice hollow. He poured the wine into the glasses, filling yours to three-quarters and his to a scant half.

And then the two of you sat, on opposite ends of your teak dinner table. Eating and swallowing in silence. The clanking of the forks being the only music that filled the room. He thought about getting up to play set the record, playing some of those old jazz tunes you were quite fond of. But the record was likely dusty. It was much too much work.

So he remained seated, the silence between you so vast and impenetrable, it made you conscious about how loud you were chewing your food.

—

"Well," you returned from the bathroom. now clad in delicate sleep shorts and a camisole, applying your usual moisturizer to your elbows. "The water's cold," you commented.

"Yeah," he responded, glancing up from his spot on the bed. "Sorry, I prefer it cold so I didn't notice. I think it's the rain."

You chuckled, a sound that seemed almost out of place. "I know you prefer it cold, Nanami. We've been married for practically a millennium, for God's sake."

An exaggeration, of course. It had been six years. You did this a lot.

He offered a faint smile in response, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "Right," he said.

He felt the bed dip slightly under your weight as you sat. "Will you get my back?" You asked, holding out the moisturiser as you turned to present your back.

He took it, as his hands lifted your camisole, all the way up. He poured some of the white lotion onto his hand as his eyes flickered up, only momentarily, to see your reflection in the mirror. The front half of your top had risen as well, cinching up your breasts.

His eyes trained back to your back, and he began to rub the cream in. Up and down. And up and down. And up and down. When he was finished, he smoothed down your top. He rubbed his hands over your shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze to let you know he was finished.

And then the two of you slept, side by side, waiting for sleep to come find you in the dark. And just then, he doesn't know how or why this happened so don't ask him. All he knew was that somewhere in those first twenty minutes, he had gotten up, his hands reaching for the night lamp to turn it on, leaving you sat up, surprised.

"What is it?" You had asked.

"We should go on a trip," he proposed, calmly.

"A trip," you squinted, your eyes adjusting to the sudden assault of light.

"Yes, we could go to Okinawa," he suggested.

You paused for a moment. "It's storming these days. The weather will be horrible."

"You pick," he said. "Wherever you want to go. We can go."

And then, you thought about it. For a few seconds, he was almost afraid you'd call him a foolish old man and fall back onto your pillow. But instead, you smiled—an earnest smile, outside of your usual politeness. And he felt his heart beating fresh blood.

"Okay, old man," you said. "I'll think of a place."

He smiled.

#new series? #jjk drabbles #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jjk x reader #jjk angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst

[starredforlife]

ok top five scenes from the kung fu panda universe (any of the movies, shorts, shows, etc). could be fight scenes, character moments, etc etc so on and so forth

FERN THIS IS SO HARD. FOR ME. UHM !!!!

ESCAPE FROM GONGMEN TOWER please watch it right now please please it's such an underrated scene musically and visually. this is the scene where tigress catches a flaming arrow and that's the exact moment i became a homosexual. vic history. it's also the scene where we see her chops as a leader of the five and the way she's fit into this role to balance out Po so well. and also all her potential as who she could've been, if she'd been chosen to be the dragon warrior herself. but she's not.

MUSICIAN'S VILLAGE I LOVE this scene the way it introduces, to the audience, that the score is going to play a part in the fight scenes of this movie is absolutely magnificent. and the way we get reintroduced to the furious five's + po's fighting style, and it reminds us immediately that they are formidable--and then sets up the inciting incident of the plot with so much mystery (and we see the 2d animation style again too, which has always represented po's inner subconscious. WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT FOR THE FOURTH MOVIE. whatever)

i would say the bridge fight (kfp1) and i adore that scene but i have to say, i really love the performances, the ambience, the color boards, the sound effects, and the emotional impact of shifu and tai lung's fight in the 3rd act more. i love when kfp actually invested time in its non-main protag characters. tai lung was an absolutely fascinating villain and this scene just rounds out his character so well

The entirety of the secrets of the scroll short film oh my god i love that one so much. teenage tigress. my baby girl.

FUCK okay and then the fireworks factory (2nd movie) where Po confronts Shen about his past. And he gets shot with a cannon and Tigress doesn't get to him in time. breaks my heart every time. i'm going to include the scene where Tigress and Po fight right before that in the jail too bc the musical score called "Fireworks Factory" starts with THEIR HUG. AND IT ENDS WITH HER RUNNING TO CATCH HIM. AND FAILING. MY BAKA LIFE !!!!! i don't even ship them anymore like i did when i was 14 i mostly just love tigress but their platonic relationship is v important to me. i have to include their hug bc that did irreparable damage to me as a tween. sorry the quality of the first vid is so ass. their relationship in the entire 2nd movie is so good i could write a whole analysis on it probably. it's paining me physically to not include their earlier boat scene talk.

this is also the scene where tigress snarls at the gorilla and that changed my brain chemistry forever.

i love the entire second movie this is so hard for me AUGHHHGHGH okay quick honorary mention: i also love the scene where we see shen fight the three masters (rhino, croc, ox). that quick fight scene is SO well executed. the dialogue and the performances are incredible. i used to have every line of dialogue of this movie memorized and especially loved reciting this scene (skip to 1:10)

and then if i had to pick a moment from the third one it's the one where oogway's statue gets wrecked at the jade palace. it lands emotionally very well for a scene that could have easily been mishandled too comedically or too quickly. like it still gives me chills. and i'm not even gonna touch on the character animation/acting of tigress and shifu here bc GOD. kai's theme does rock also!!! AND i LOVE the colors in this movie SO MUCH holy fuck

and then a minor detail from the first one is i love how the characters act with each other, namely the five and shifu. they clearly have a history and/or comradery with each other. shifu undoing the nerve damage tai lung did in a way specific to each of his students stands out to me in particular.

1 and 2 are masterpieces to me and i have my Things about the 3rd one but overall, a beautiful trilogy. i wish the 4th one didn't exist im killing it with my bare hands. vic hate movie? vic murder it. 5th rule of the streets.

#you sly dog. you've got me monologuing #if u saw me listening to the soundtrack the whole time i answered this. yeah you did #star's asks #fernsnailz #kfp

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey girlll I love ur writing. Can u do like a tangerine taking care of a pregnant wife or girlfriend. I’m not sure if u already did one I couldn’t find it but thankyouuu 💖💖💖💖💖

hii honey!! thank you! ive done hcs but realised ive never actually written a fic about it??? (I think) thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

BABY BRAIN.

tangerine x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 443

"Can I get you anything while I'm out here, love?" your husband calls out to you from the kitchen - his head poking out to see you in the other room.

You're in the living room, slumped in the armchair, too big to move —or so it feels— your thirty-week-old baby in your belly making you feel like a whale.

"Just a tea, please, honey," you reply, looking up at him from across the way. "Oh— and you know how you do those really cute little heart sandwiches? Can you make me one of those, please?"

He smiles, nodding. "Anything else?" 

You take a moment, trying to figure out what your body wants. "Can I get some pickles, too, please? Just in a little bowl— only a few."

Tangerine lingers in the doorway, anticipating you have more to say. 

"... and an ice lolly. I'm feeling dizzy again," you pause, trying to figure out if you've already eaten them - your baby brain making things difficult to retrace. "There should be a new box at the bottom of the freezer," you say, speaking hopefully. 

With Tangerine knowing your nausea has returned, he leaves his spot in the kitchen doorframe, walking over to the freezer to fetch your frozen treats. But then you hear a quiet 'fuck', the sound almost disappointed.

He walks back into your viewline, softly shaking his head. "They're all gone, darlin'."

It was silly how much those words upset you. It was the only thing you really needed - the sandwiches and pickles coming from a place of want. 

Your lips turn down into a frown, the bottom one almost wobbling. "Did you check all the drawers?" 

He hums, making his way closer to you. "I did," he nods, taking a seat at the edge of the coffee table - sitting in front of you. 

"Even the top one? Sometimes I hide things in there," you say quietly, trying not to get emotional over an ice lolly. 

"I did, darlin'. I checked them all."

You pause, your expression begging not to cry. "Can we get some more?"

Your husband fights off a smile, trying not to upset you any further by him finding it all so endearing. "Course," he nods, standing up. 

He presses a kiss into your forehead before moving out into the hallway - collecting a pair of shoes for you —ones that only required to be slipped on—

He assists as you put your shoes on, him crouched down, doing the work for you. And when you go to stand, he slips his hand into yours - helping you up. 

"Can we go to the drive-thru, too?" 

AAHHHHHHHHHHHH NOT OKAY🥹

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #dad tangerine #tangerine fluff #tangerine bullet train

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Five (The End)

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors note: The ending! The final chapter of Matty and Mouse's story, my heart is actually breaking. Honestly loved writing these two, as well as baby Teds, and I hope you lot loved them too because all the love this series has gotten means so much, it feels surreal. Hopefully I can write a few blurbs of them or something in the future but this is it for now. So thank you for all the support!

Warnings: EMOTIONS, Matty and Mouse way of thinking, little bit of angst, referencing to past hurts (such as not making it to a certain age), smut, unprotected sex, self-conscious characters?

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Matty wouldn’t have been able to say what the time must have been if anyone had dared ask. He’d been propped up against the headboard, still in his t-shirt and jeans, his hand never having fallen from the top of her head even after she’d finally worn herself out and drifted to sleep.

His stomach churned pitifully at the reminder, at how hard she had cried. Gasping and sobbing into that fucking pillow she still held onto, all whilst clinging to the skin of his wrist with an unforeseen strength. As though she’d been pleading in her grip of him, asking him not to go just yet.

That hold had diminished a tad during the night, she’d always been a fitful sleeper– had kneed him one too many times between the legs for him to not know that fact– but this time around… She’d been almost deathly still, aside from the frowning expressions that clouded her face whilst she’d dreamt.

He continued to sit there though, watching on as the moon sunk so that the sun could slowly climb its way into the irradiating sky, giving way to that first hint of morning.

He hadn’t slept a wink, not really. Nodded off for a second or two once or twice before he’d found himself jerking awake again. Couldn’t seem to stay down for much longer than that.

And why would he? When he’d all but destroyed the woman laying beside him. This proud, strong and resilient woman that he’d been so idolised by, so enraptured with. The one person in his fucking forsaken life that had appeared so utterly invincible.

She was a survivor. A mother. A friend. 

And she was kind. Funny. Resilient.

Then she’d gone and met him, hadn’t she?

And he’d ruined her like he did everything else.

Practically broken her. 

Torn the last pieces of her further apart.

The thought alone made him feel sick to his stomach. Aching with this unbound need to grovel and cry at her very feet, to make her see enough sense so that she could understand just how much she didn’t need someone like him. That she was strong enough to do it all alone. That she didn’t need to cling to him as she had, like rust to a buoy long lost at sea.

Guilt.

That was what that sticky feeling growing in his gut was. That overwhelming malady that was eating him up from the inside out, making him feel so utterly sick.

He had come over to see her. So that they might be able to talk things out. He’d come to apologise. To make things right between them. But instead, what had he done?

Pushed.

He’d pushed and fucking pushed, forcing her hand enough so that she had cracked and he’d been able to slip past those high guarded walls of hers.

And now here they were.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it though– not all of it at least. 

To have held her again… It had calmed some sick twisted part of him. 

To have just seen her and heard her voice, no matter how pained and angry it had been. It was like the world around him had softened for a split second. Become all grainy.

Matty glanced back over to her sleeping form, to the way she had bundled the duvet high up over her head so that the tip of her nose could bury itself in the slight curve it made, her chin tucked away. 

His hand was still lost somewhere in her hair, thumb cascading out over her temple every now and then, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not until he had no other choice in the matter. 

So he carried on, staying there and lying awake. Thinking over the night before. Thinking back to her devastated expression, to the wary look her eyes had held. To the way she hadn’t spoken a word. To how she had simply forced her cries into silent sobs.

Suddenly, he was stuck on the very realisation that she hadn’t been reacting to it all, to everything she’d been feeling, to what had happened, but rather retreating. Hiding away whilst, somehow, still allowing him to be near. To stay. To watch over her.

A soft sniff had him blinking, regaining composure quick enough so that he could catch the scene play out before him. 

…

I was embarrassed by the previous night's events. By the fact that I had been so determined to keep Matty at arms length and then failed entirely. That he had seen me so weak and well– broken.

But it had all come to a head, I supposed.

I’d been keeping up appearances ever since everything had fallen out, putting on a brave face and a smile for anyone and everyone who could see. It was only ironic, I guessed, for Matty to have been the one to shatter that image completely. 

Still, I swallowed at the sight of him still sitting there beside me the next morning, seeming as though he hadn’t moved an inch throughout the whole night, and shoved all that shame back down. 

“Thought you’d be gone by now.” I heard myself say as I flipped over onto my back so that I could stare up at the ceiling and at the sun drawn lines that stretched out across it.

I listened to his quiet laugh, to the way he shuffled slightly on the mattress, though I didn’t dare look back at him. It was too early and I already felt as though he’d seen enough of me. “Was just hoping for a chance at one of your brews, is all.”

Something in me shifted at his easy words. At the fact that he’d chosen to try and make me smile, instead of calling me out on all my messy bullshit.

“And if I’ve got no milk?” I replied, just because this was easier than arguing anymore.

I felt him shift, probably shrugging if I knew him as well as I thought I did. “Shops open soon enough.”

The corner of my mouth twitched, although I continued my staring contest with the blank space sat high above us. 

“Who says I’ll let you back in?”

He did laugh then, a deep rumble of a chuckle that was rough from disuse and a lack of sleep. Matty sniffed, “Just gonna have to try my luck then, I ‘spose.”

It was only in that next second that I realised something, something that had me inhaling sharply as Matty’s fingers dragged their way through my hair to tuck a frizzy strand behind my ear, before then pulling away entirely.

My eyes slipped closed at the sudden loss and my hands curled into tight fists beneath the duvet at the very thought of him having stayed that way throughout the night. Of having held me in the only way he’d been able to, as though he believed it might have kept some small part of me together. Only pulling away now that he could see that I wasn’t going to crack beneath the weight of everything I still held.

The bed shifted and the sound of his feet hit the floor.

From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he stood.

Matty moved throughout my bedroom with an ease I didn’t even own, picking up the hoodie he’d thrown over my desk chair all those days ago, the same one I hadn’t allowed myself to touch, let alone wear. 

I almost told him not to take it, but withheld. Only just managing to bite down on my tongue as I watched him shrug it on. It was his afterall.

“Gonna nick your keys,” He told me whilst he shook the hood out around his neck and dragged it up over his tousled curls, “Only be about ten minutes. You can shower or whatever, not worry about letting me back in.”

I could only nod in return and he smiled, pausing in the doorway to look back at me for a second or two before he nodded, almost fretfully, and turned away.

I waited, lying there still enough that I was surprised I didn’t go stiff from how tightly I was wound, until I heard the familiar rattle of keys and then the squeaking hinges of the front door. It closed behind him so quietly that had I not been holding my breath I might not have even heard it. 

I was rubbing at my face not a minute later, hauling back tears leftover from last night's show, before I heaved an anguished scream that was more air than actual sound from my lungs.

Forcing myself to calm– and not dissolve into fucking hysterics– I willed myself up, noting that I was still naked as I kicked the covers away. Another thing I’d gone and bared for him, I supposed. As though it wasn’t enough that I had already cried myself to sleep with him just sitting a hand’s stretch away, but that we’d actually gone and slept together. After everything.

My head was warring with my heart as I dragged myself up out of the dirtied sheets, throwing on an old tee so that I could shove them into the washer before he got back. I forced myself into the shower quickly after, letting the hot water roll off my skin.

I must’ve been stood there for a long while, drowning under the heavy spray, because it was the sound of the door that broke me from the faraway place I’d found myself in whilst staring at the tiled walls.

Blinking, I wiped the water from out of my eyes and forced myself to wash, lathering up my hair and going through the motions, before I finally stepped out. 

I didn’t dare peer into the mirror, not all too desperate to see the state I’d worked myself into on my way out. Choosing to head back into the bedroom instead, padding over towards the dresser to pull out some clean clothes and only noticing the fresh sheets that had been pulled onto the bed when I’d finally dressed.

The towel I’d been holding to lightly dry my hair slowly dropped to my side at the sight. I opened my mouth to call out and probably ask– But I stopped myself before I could. Ask what? I wondered. Why? Then shook my head at the very idea.

Doing the smart thing by shutting my mouth, I dumped the towel in the hamper and pulled on a pair of socks, taking a deep breath before deciding to venture further out into the flat. 

I found him in the kitchen.

He didn’t peer over his shoulder but he must’ve heard me putter in because he greeted me: “I know I said I’d be quick but I passed by that little bakery on my way back– that hidden gem we liked that one time? Anyway, it just smelt fuckin’ devine.” He accentuated that last bit, making me smile slightly, “And I just couldn’t not, you know? Been a while, but they had those danishes you like in the window. Got a couple to share as well as some other bits.” Matty explained, head still halfway in the bag he’d obviously brought back with him, a pint of milk sat alone on the side, “And a sausage roll for Teds– kid was eating them like he was gonna starve a while ago. So I just thought...”

Matty shrugged, as though that in itself was no big deal, him thinking of my son, and turned around to glance my way with a display case of baked-goods now lining my kitchen counter.

I snorted softly at the sight, jerking my chin out towards the lot of them, “Just thought you’d bring back half the shop?” I teased and was all too pleased when he chuckled around the beginnings of a smirk.

He was quick with his quip, “So I’m guessin’ you don’t want one of these danishes then?” 

I narrowed my eyes at the sheer nerve. “I never said that.”

Matty’s nose scrunched with his next shrug before he moved to snap one up for himself. “Sort of sounded like it, sweetheart.”

I shook my head, biting down on my growing grin as I slid across the kitchen to grab at one too. 

I hummed around the first bite I took and all but moaned at the flavour of it, blinking my eyes back open only to find Matty wearing the most delighted little grin. I rolled my eyes but didn’t grant him the gift of an actual reply, though it didn’t seem to waver him either way.

We seemed to move seamlessly around one another after that; him filling up the kettle whilst I placed two mugs down on the countertop; the clink of a teaspoon being shot into one cup as I moved to grab the tin of tea bags; Matty switching the radio on like it was second nature and me smiling away to myself as I poured the milk.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek once we’d finally settled, he’d chosen to take up room at the table whilst I carefully stored the remaining pastries away for later.

I wanted to talk, to try and hash things out again, because this felt right to me. Him being here. In my dingy little kitchen, small but still so crowded with all sorts of bits and bobs, as well as a plethora of crayon coloured drawings. And he just, well, Matty just fit here. Or maybe that was just me hoping. Ignoring the bigger warning signs so that I wouldn’t have to feel so alone again.

Was he lying to me?

Had he relapsed?

Did he cheat?

It didn’t seem like he’d done any of those things. There was no guilt in his gaze and yesterday… I’d never seen him like that. Even whilst stressed or overwhelmed, Matty had never cried. He’d never looked at me like that either, as though he was slowly breaking before my eyes.

He’d said his piece, he’d promised, and then he’d apologised. 

But.

What if I was just making a bigger mug of myself here?

Letting him back in. Giving him my forgiveness. Having him in my bed.

Was I saying that it was okay? Was that the impression I’d be giving? That he could lie and walk all over me and that everything would still be fine.

It left the world feeling a little more tilted than it had been only moments before. It left me questioning everything, once again.

…

“What are we doing, Matty?”

Matty was slow in looking back over at her, fingers tapping aimlessly away on the kitchen table to some song that had been playing on the radio. 

“What do you mean?”

She huffed, a quiet chuckle full of disbelief rippling through the air, “I mean, what are we doing here?” 

“The fuck if I know.” Matty replied, just as soft as that laughter she’d given him, shrugging at her from across the kitchen. Because what was he meant to say to that?

She just shook her head in turn though, completely unaware to the way he was now watching her. Taking her all in. The way the outline of her body glowed whilst bathed in the morning light that shone in through the windows. Of how her slowly drying hair curled at parts in the easy breeze that crept by. And how endeared he was by the way she never failed to tuck her joggers, or pyjama bottoms, or whatever else she’d decided to throw on whilst at home into her socks. It made her who she was, all these mindless little tidbits that he’d gathered over the last year, that he had observed. 

“We can’t just– move on. Carry on like nothing’s happened.” She sounded frustrated. Sad.

“Why not?” It was almost sarcastic, the way he said it, but his voice held a whole lot of truth to it. He wanted this and he wanted her. And he’d be a fucking fool to deny it. 

And what would the world make of the two of them anyway? Cause she’d gone and claimed the very same thing last night, hadn’t she? 

The pair of them, fools.

“‘Cause everything’s a mess.” She answered back, staring at him now, almost defeated. 

Her shoulders were slumped and she wore that sad smile she often favoured when she was at a loss, slowly being eaten away by a horde of thoughts she couldn’t seem to control. 

He watched her fidget with the hem of her sleeve, peering down at it. 

“Because after everything, Matty,” She breathed, voice soft even in the quiet of the kitchen, “I know that I love you and I don’t want to lose what we have left here. I don’t want that ruined.”

Matty’s mouth worked itself into a small smile as his eyes dragged between her own, trailing over the short scar that crossed the bridge of her nose, remembering the night she’d teared up when he’d reached out to caress it. 

“I’d rather be ruined by you than not have you at all, Mouse.”

She blew air from out of her nose in a soundless chuckle, cheeks rounding around an amused grin for the briefest of seconds before her eyes skittered away from him again. “That meant to be all poetic?”

He gave her a curt nod and then just grinned, legs fanned out before him. “In the job description. Musician, remember?”

“Oh, do I.” She quipped back just as sarkily, leaning against the counter as she continued to watch him from under dark lashes. Matty reckoned he’d let her shove him under a microscope if it got her to let him stick around. If only for a while longer.

A silence passed between them. 

“I love you.” Matty murmured, so sure of that fact, “That much I know. But I won’t ask you for anything more than I already have, you make the choice. You can hold the cards. And whatever you decide, I’ll accept.”

Her face hardened a fraction, as though she were steeling herself for an argument or something other. Hiding how underprepared she’d been for his words perhaps. Matty only hoped that she’d heard the truth in them.

“No fight? You’ll just accept it and leave?”

Matty didn’t dare blink but dipped his head in slight acknowledgement. “If that’s what you want.”

The woman before him just continued to stare him down and for once, Matty couldn’t read her face. Had no idea what the hell she might’ve been thinking. Or feeling. Or what plans she was currently devising in that clever head of hers.

“Okay.”

It took all of his sheer effort not to react to that one simple word, even though she had practically just gone and ripped his fucking heart out of his chest. 

Actually, he supposed that was another lie he’d told. She’d done that months ago, on the day they’d met and went and ruined him for good.

I’d rather be ruined by you.

It’s what he’d said.

He couldn’t go back on it now. 

“Okay.” He answered her, voice just barely above a whisper that he wasn’t sure she heard over the squeaking of his chair legs.

And then he was standing in her kitchen for what he supposed would be the last time. He saw her grip the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, gaze unstraying, but she didn’t say another word. 

They stared at one another for what felt like the longest minute on Earth and Matty could practically feel the ground shifting beneath the soles of his feet as he realised that now everything would really change.

His breath caught, the thought hitting him like a shit ton of bricks and he knew then that he had to leave before he broke down and took it all back. Before he was a fucking mess of a man on her kitchen floor. 

He turned on his heel and made for the door.

“Where’re you going?”

Matty froze, entirely rooted to the floor.

He continued to stare resolutely ahead, scared to move in case she had changed her mind. In case she was saying what he thought she was.

“Your tea’s gonna go cold… and I thought you could pick Teds up with me later.” She was going for nonchalant, aiming and almost hitting, but she missed the mark by just a hair. “He was with Ads yesterday, you know, and she dropped him off at nursery this morning for me. Just figured.”

Matty pivoted on his heel, slow going and hardly daring to steal a breath as he did, before he was looking straight at her. At the way her teeth had sunk into her lower lip, the careful sheen her eyes had taken on, and then the singular strand of hair which had fallen from behind her ear. He was across the room and on her in a second. 

Firm hands held her face, thumbs guarding either cheek as he bored everything he couldn’t seem to say into the next look he gave to her. Wanting her to see it all. To know, or simply understand.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

She laughed.

“Wanna bet…” Her words trailed off into a heavy breath and Matty could feel the strength of his grin as he leaned in close, nose bumping against hers, his eyes flickering over the entirety of her face, attempting to take her in all at once.

There was buzzing under his skin, he could feel it in the tips of his fingers, all the way down to his toes, and heard the way it hummed throughout his chest. 

It was then that he realised he couldn’t see an end without her in it.

He wanted everything with this woman. 

Everything.

And that should’ve been the most terrifying thought.

Because once he had believed he would never see the end of sixteen, puking into the bushes outside his bedroom window and not having the strength to make it that extra mile. To let mum know that he was alright.

Then it had been nineteen, that first real stint in hospital. He’d been scared to shit and alone, the darkness hiding all the groans and upset of the other patients with real issues.

But nineteen had come and gone, so then he figured twenty-one. Maybe twenty-two? Definitely twenty-five… Had to be.

Twenty-eight had been both the end and the beginning for him. 

But even without everything that had been holding him back after that, the drugs, the people, the money. After he’d gotten clean– proper clean– he’d never really thought far enough ahead. 

To a point where he might feel settled or want to start building a place for himself in the world. A real place, one amongst family and friends, not just amongst admiration and music– as much as it had helped shape him.

He’d never once pictured this. A person. 

Girlfriends? Yeah. Flings and one night stands? Sure. But a person that would be his. Completely. That he could share half of himself with?

No, he couldn’t say that he’d ever seen that coming, that something like this would have one day been in the cards for him.

And Matty wanted so badly to sink his claws in and cling on for as long as he possibly could, for as long as she’d be willing, and then even more so. Until somebody else came along and inevitably unhooked him. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. Because this was too perfect to go and destroy like that. 

He’d always claimed to be a selfish man, but in this regard, all the love he had worth giving would be spent on her. On the days they’d spend together. On meals and dates. On flowers and apologies for when he eventually messed up again, because he knew himself too well to deny that fact. He’d spend it on giving her security, on rebuilding her trust. He’d spend it on her son. On the little boy he’d become so besotted by.

And if it ruined him, if it killed him? He reckoned he’d be okay with that.

He’d be content. Finally having something to be proud of.

“What are you waiting for?”

Matty eyes tracked the length of her face, fingers tangled in her hair whilst his thumbs pressed into the grooves of her temples. What was he waiting for? 

As soon as he thought it, Matty was pressing against her once more, stealing all the breath from her lungs in his haste to answer her.

It was slow, the kiss; soft in the way his lips captured hers for only a few seconds before he was pulling away again, hands shaking where he still cupped her cheeks.

He wanted to make sure that this was what she wanted, but he could see it in her face, that surety, the warmth. And he wouldn’t question that, maybe in some regards he’d be willing to give her anything, but here and now, with this, with wanting her, he would as selfish as he fucking could be. He’d take all that she would give him.

The next kiss was full and deep– urgent.

Matty’s tongue slid into her mouth, hands falling aimlessly away from her face to whatever part of her he could touch, feeling no ounce of remorse over it seeing as she was on the exact same journey, her fingers winding their way up and over every inch of him. 

She kissed back with just as much force, colliding with him in a way that almost felt tortured, as though trying to make up for all the time they had wasted. Not just over the past few days, but the weeks and months they’d spent dancing around one another, pushing and pulling. Despairing this game of tug of war they had started. 

It ended here.

Matty continued to lean up into her, pressing her into the counter as she clawed at the hoodie he wore. Matty felt her nails catch on the skin of his back, whilst he wrapped his arms around her hips.

“Baby,” He whispered breathlessly and then moaned when her mouth closed around his bottom lip, teeth grazing against the flesh before they then bit down. She rocked into him and Matty swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

He reached up a hand to cup the back of her neck so that he could mouth his way across her jaw and down her collar, favouring the skin just beneath her ear. “Need you.”

It was both an admission and a plea.

And then she was grabbing at his face too, forcing his mouth back up to meet hers, breath sweeping over the cut of his jaw. She tangled her fingers in his curls and Matty had the barest second to register that he was actually staying. That she was letting him back in.

His body jolted forward on impulse, arms snaking their way around her waist to splay out over her lower back, pulling her that much closer. Her hold tightened too, hand moving down his neck, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point there. 

Matty stepped nearer and she welcomed him in, legs parting to let him step between them, kiss turning hungrier as she arched her back up and away from the countertop. He wanted all of her.

She let go of his hair to press in harder, pulling back only so that she could lick his mouth back open and drive her tongue inside. She murmured his name against his lips, once, twice. And then Matty’s hand was between the blades of her shoulders and holding fast. He moved, spinning them outwards, over towards the kitchen door.

She let out a sharp sound that was half gasp and half moan, but all love and desire when they knocked into the arm of the sofa in the living-room and fell back against the soft cushions. 

When they broke apart it was only out of necessity, the need to catch back the breath that had been forced out of them on their tumble down. They shared an airy chuckle.

Then he watched on as she stretched out further up the settee, fingers caught on his wrist so that she could tug him along with her. Their hips aligned as Matty crowded her again, elbow digging into the chair's arm to hold him up above her. He hovered there, their faces and foreheads pressed together, noses lined up side by side. Matty wished to savour every detail of her.

He kissed her again, slower, softer. His lips moved against hers so gently that it was almost reverent, worship-like, and she matched him toe for toe, pouring her whole soul into it, gifting him all the sweetness that she possibly could. 

Matty prayed to whoever might’ve been listening that he could have this.

He supposed someone must’ve heard him because she said, “Stay,” in this careless whisper, in a tone that was more breath than anything else. And his heart stopped.

And then he was nodding. Almost frantically.

He kissed her, the tip of his nose brushing the underneath of hers as he lifted his head to nod one more time. “Long as you’ll let me.”

She whimpered and he groaned, forehead pushing against hers once more as she lifted her hips up to meet his. 

Then they were both lunging for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at their clumsy eagerness to get undressed, the sofa being of no help.

Matty pushed back to sit up for a moment, luring her up gently with him so that he could slide her shirt off over her head. She returned the favour, letting him trail a finger over the curve of her shoulder and down her arm once they were done before she was on her back once more. 

“So beautiful.” He felt the need to whisper, even though there was no one else around to hear it. She glanced away.

Matty wouldn’t have that though, a careful hand coming up to coax her eyes back to him, hoping that she would hear the sincerity in his words. She was the best thing he’d ever seen, no matter the time of day. No matter how horrible she felt. He’d never been so enamoured by another person, or so utterly lost in his desperate need to make it known. 

His thumb caught on the corner of her mouth and he smiled. “I meant it.” He assured her and felt her shiver beneath him as his words fanned the skin of her cheek, “Beautiful.”

She swallowed thickly, he saw the bob of her throat before he slid his palms down her sides to unhook her bra, dropping it off to the side so that he could mouth along the length of her torso.

He continued to murmur, tone so full of admiration as he attempted to press the words into her skin, hoping that this way they would somehow sink in.

By the time he reached the hem of her trousers she was writhing beneath him, eyes pleading, so Matty made quick work of ridding them, allowing himself to look her over for just a second. She truly was beautiful. 

“Matty,” The sound of his name forced his eyes back up and he was thrown by the dazzling smile she then wore. She took one of his hands in hers, linking their fingers, “I don't have all day, baby.”

He merely shook his head and laughed, figuring that she must’ve seen the many emotions that played out across his face afterwards because she tightened her hold on his hand and motioned him closer so that she could kiss him again.

He took her there on the settee. Worked her over slow and hard, his gaze only ever wavering when they slipped shut or he buried his face alongside the skin of her neck. His hands wandered whilst hers clung tight, leaving him marked and gasping. She murmured the whole while, legs wrapped around his middle to keep him as close as she possibly could, so that he could drive that bit deeper. Matty had never heard her so vocal, just muttering on and on, only ever stopping to cry out or jolt. But even then her words would either come out all warped or in a sharp shout. It only proved to spur him on though, fingers digging in and bruising the soft sides of her hips and thighs.

He could hardly think, listening to her pleads and commands. Such a demanding little thing. 

The heels of her feet dug into his flesh as her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, holding on, sinking her nails into his skin deep enough to have him hissing. He didn’t dare tell her to let up, just attempted to pick up his pace, hand falling away from the crease of her thigh to drag along her folds, needing her to let go before he could.

“Close?”

He was met with a choked gasp: “Yeah.” Followed by a cascade of assent, breath wetting the cut of his jaw as her hands jumped up to curl themselves along his shoulders.

Matt felt himself nod, but was hardly even aware of it, gaze trained on her face, the watering of her eyes, the pink swell of her lips. “So good for me. Don’t deserve you.”

His words just made her strengthen her already too tight hold and then she was writhing beneath him, tear sliding down the side of her face just as her head tilted far back against the cushions and she moaned.

He wasn’t far behind her, but she continued to work her hips to the best of her ability whilst his thrusts became more and more desperate. He only noticed that he was clenching his teeth when her fingers came up to thread through his hair, slackening the muscles there in his face just as his head fell forward, hovering a centimetre or two above the dip in her collar.

Matty felt lips press against the side of his head, soft but there. “I love you.” She said, and he couldn’t even respond, lost in the sensations that overwhelmed him as he jolted forward, every muscle in his legs tensing as his eyes slammed close. 

His breathing was harsh and laboured when he finally managed to pull out, falling into the little space she created for him on the side of the sofa. He draped an arm over her middle, not giving much thought to the damp sheen on their skin or the mess between her thighs. They could have this for a little while longer.

Matty hid a smile, nosing along her shoulder as he better settled into his position before he kissed the sweet skin there. Her back was to him now, him wrapped up around her body, their legs entangled, and he thought back to those few words of hers. 

Back to that night she’d first said them. 

To when she had last said them.

He started to trail a finger over her side, up and then down before he decided to trace each letter one by one. He heard her huff a laugh when she finally caught on, but he pressed on, writing more.

When she patted his hand and shifted, he frowned, wondering if he’d pushed too far, too quickly, even though she’d been the one to say it first. But she just rolled around to face him and grinned at the face he must’ve worn.

“You’re an idiot.”

His brow pinched but he still felt himself smile, “What?”

She laughed all lovelylike and he blinked at the sweetness of it, wondering when he’d gotten so used to hearing such a pretty fucking sound. 

He poked at her side, prodding, “Go on, tell me.”

With a fond roll of her eyes, Matty watched the stretch of her smile  soften before he stilled slightly at her slow touch, the drag of her finger which trailed over his stubbled cheek. “Just such a you thing to do.” She teased him quietly, fingertip reaching up to skim over the bridge of his nose and then his eyelids.

Matty shrugged, narrowing his eyes a tad but unable to truly hide the small smirk he was wearing. He moved his hand back to her hip, tracing another word that had her huffing and shaking her head in sudden exasperation. Then another. And another.

Her eyes were wide when he chanced a glance up at her and she swallowed at the earnest expression he gifted her. “I mean it.” He whispered into the tiny slot of space that rested between their heads.

He watched as her stare tracked along his face, flicking from one eye to the other. “How can you be so sure?”

Matty shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed up against the settee, a small smile dancing on his mouth. “Never been sure of much, but I know this.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “This your way of askin’?”

Chuckling lightly, he shook his head in turn. “Nah, gotta think of something good. Big.” He grinned at the snort she gave, but continued on anyway, fingers simply brushing against her hip now, “Figure we need time to get there again, sort through this mess.”

“Again?”

Matty hummed, thinking back to the bout of songs he’d been working on over the last few months, to the days G had smirked and asked about some of the lyrics he’d written down. “Been playing on my mind.”

There was a small curve to her brow now, an almost frown but not, Matty knew her well enough to know that she was just a little thrown by his answer.

“How long?”

Her whispered ask had him thinking, but he couldn’t really give her an exact time span. He’d hardly even realised it himself. “I don’t know, but for a while.”

She breathed out a quiet little laugh, eyes darting between his own once more, “So one day then?”

Matty hummed happily, face breaking into a slow going grin as one of his hands came up to cup her face, thumb soothing her cheek. “One day, Squeaks,” He murmured to her, “I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.”

Her cheek warmed beneath his touch but she laughed, shaking her head ever so slightly whilst her eyes looked down before shooting right back up again. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Wrinkling his nose a tad and curling his upper lip, Matty just shook his head, “Nah, don’t reckon so.”

“You say that,” She all but sang before she was kicking up a storm in his hold, quickly trying to get away from the hand that had come up to run a rhythm down her side, tickling her into shutting that daft mouth of hers.

“Yeah, I do fuckin’ say.” Matty chuckled, grinning madly as he continued to grab at her, teasing her bare skin with his tormenting touch. It was with that in which Mouse went sailing, rolling away from him in an attempt to escape, and dragging Matty with, him still so caught up in her that the pair of them went tumbling to the living-room floor.

Matty felt as though all the air in his lungs had been kicked from his chest once the world had stopped spinning and finally righted itself. He realised all too quickly what had happened, a heap of hair splayed over his face as he spluttered. 

“Fuck.” He managed to drag out, forcing a huffy laugh from his chest.

He watched on as she struggled for a second, him having cushioned her fall, and she pushed up onto her palms so that she could glare down at him, not entirely unhappy. Matty snorted and raised his arms in defence.

“Don’t blame me.”

If it was at all possible, her eyes cut sharper. “The fuck I won’t! Why’d you start tickling me?”

“Because you never know when to shut up!” Matty laughed, wheezing a little as he did and bending a knee so that he could plant one foot firmly on the floor, his hand rested on his chest.

She just rolled her eyes though as she battled to sit up, spine curving once she had. Matty reached out to trail the length of it, pulse jumping at the shiver he watched run through her.

“How’d we even go from you being such a sap to us on the floor?” Mouse huffed, reaching up to grab at a throw that had been resting on the nearby armchair. Matty watched through a lazy gaze as she bundled it into an oddly shaped ball of sorts before turning back to him. “Fucking all sticky now too.”

He smiled stupidly, folding his hands behind his head, unashamed as he was, to better protect it from the hardwood floors.

She stood with a roll of her eyes, on unsteady legs mind– something Matty felt all too pleased with– and caught sight of his smirk, and before he could even see it coming the bundled blanket was being thrown at his head. He yelped girlishly and floundered to shield himself from it but it still managed to catch the side of his face with just enough force. 

He listened to her hearty laugh as he tossed the thing back at her legs, frowning when it missed and her footsteps began to trail away. “Oi, where do you think you’re goin’?”

“To shower!” She called out from over her shoulder just before she could disappear through the doorway, “Again!”

Matty huffed a small snicker to himself and resorted to simply staring up at the ceiling whilst he waited, but before he could get too comfortable there she was calling out to him again.

“So you coming or what, Healy?”

And fuck if that didn’t have him scrambling up off of the floor to join her. He smiled when she merely laughed at the eager sight of him rounding the hallway and he found himself wondering how the fuck he’d managed this as she turned on the tap and pulled him under the water with her.

He must’ve seemed a little out of it though because she was tilting her head at him when he peered over at her, her hands at his hips. “You good?” 

Matty hummed quietly, dipping his head to kiss her once more because he could. “Yeah, just happy.”

And wasn’t that a thought. Him happy.

Mouse grinned at him, eyes lighting up with it as he stepped on closer. Her hold tightened, “Me too.”

Me too.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #smut #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[moghedien]

ok I'm gonna start emo durge posting now and I just wanna say like...I wish the game had let you express just how fucking complicated I feel like my durge's feelings for Orin is

like honestly I get why rpgs can't take into account all the big emotions that a character could have for every event, but like I wish I could at least hint at how complicated the Orin situation is for a good durge

because on one hand, Orin is evil. Cartoonishly evil even. She's playing with you and everyone else like a cat playing with their prey before they kill it. Murdering is her only goal, specifically murdering for daddy Bhaal.

And just on a character level, she has done the most to hurt you. She's the reason why you have no memories. She took your life from you. She's the reason why you're fighting the tadpole in your head. She's the reason why all of your friends and loved ones are fighting the tadpole in your head. She kidnapped one of those friends. She murdered people just to take their place so she can spy on you. She stole your life and identity and made have to start anew not knowing who you are or why all you want to do is hurt everyone around you.

But in a fucked up, unintentional way, Orin saved you.

If she hadn't attacked you and taken your place and stuck a tadpole in your head, you would be Bhaal's Chosen. You would be the same mass murdering cannibalistic psychopath that Bhaal shaped you into since you were a child who was made to murder the family that took them in and raised them. You would be one of the villains your current friends faced, and you probably would have killed them all or enslaved them with the tadpoles in their heads, and you wouldn't have thought anything of it. They wouldn't be people to you, just meat to pile up to get you closer to reaching Bhaal's true goal of ending everyone and everything. You were going to do it too.

The closest thing you ever had to a friend was the Chosen of the god of tyranny, your sister who attacked you and took everything from you, and the grotesque unnatural servant your daddy sent to fawn over you. That's not even getting into account the things Gortash and Orin have directly done to two people you might be close to now, or even romantically involved with. Those were the people you kept company with. Those were the only people who you thought liked you, and clearly you misjudged how much Orin actually did.

By the time you can get into learning more about Orin, you know what you are and you've already made the decision to reject or accept Bhaal. If you've resisted him, if you've expressed to Jaheira or whoever that you want to be free of him, you're aware of what you are. And you've found some evidence of what you've done in your past. If you've been hit with a heal spell, you've seen your first murders, and you know that you were shaped into this as a child. And you might have been Bhaal's spawn made directly by him, but at least there was a moment, however brief, where you were just a kid being raised by a family that took you in. Until Bhaal changed that with the Urges.

But Orin? You find out more about Orin that she knows herself. You can find out just how fucked her parentage actually is with Sarevok being both her father and grandfather. You can find out she was lied to about why her mother attacked her as a child and how Sarevok abused and manipulated both of them while she thought he adored her. She was born and raised into a Bhaalist upbringing, having literally no other context or experience. You at least had a few years as a seemingly normal child.

And even then, she was second to you. She was in your shadow, following your commands, and you can find your own writings that made it clear that you did not treat her well. You didn't respect her. If there was ever any kind of bond between the two of you as you were growing up, that was gone by the time you begun the alliance with Gortash and Ketheric, and she was well in your shadow.

And by the time you learn all of this, you have actual friends. You have people who love and admire you. You have people who are grateful to you for saving them and going above and beyond to keep people safe. You probably have a romantic partner and you've probably begun making plans for afterward. You have people that have guided you down a lighter path, that are actually trying to help you be good and happy and who want help you even when you're scary. There are people who know what you are and what you've done and the fact that you were at the center of creating the mess that everyone is in now, and they're still with you.

What does Orin have?

Only a cult of people who worship her out of fear, people that have abused her, and the knowledge that despite her best efforts, you're still coming to punish her for defying you.

But regardless of everything else, you would not have gotten anything you have now if Orin hadn't cracked your skull open.

Orin is the only reason you can be redeemed. Even if you're the one who actively decided to be a better person after escaping the pod, you never would have gotten to that point if not for Orin. You weren't going to suddenly change while you were Bhaal's Chosen, at the top of your power and almost achieving the goals you planned out and put in motion. The only reason you had to opportunity to change is because Orin damaged you to the point of forgetting what Bhaal shaped you into. There were only empty spaces to become your own person because Orin carved them out with her knife.

In the most fucked, but undeniable way Orin saved you.

And I just can't help but wish that the game at least let me acknowledge this and how fucking complicated you can feel about Orin.

Or at least let me ponder if maybe it isn't possible to at least try to do something for your fucked up little sister who never had or wanted anything but Bhaal, yet still managed to save you from him. Even if its not possible, even if you couldn't have really tried, I wish that the desire to try or some contemplation on that had been possible.

#bg3 #orin the red #the dark urge #dark urge #durge #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #long post

[that-trans-autistic-guy]

Even More DBD as Incorrect Quotes from a Random Generator

Charles: So like, how far do you think the distance is from that window to the ground? Edwin: Enough.

Crystal: I never said I was gonna get back together with them. But I was thinking, they're in town, would it be the worst thing in the world if I gave them a call? Jenny: No. No, Crystal, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would be the fourth worst thing. Number one: a super volcano. Number two: an asteroid hits the Earth. Number three: All the Evel Knievel movies are lost. Number four: Person F calls Person C. Number five: Niko gets eaten by a shark. Niko: I’m Niko, and I approve the order of that list.

Charles: Some people are like slinkies. Edwin: What? Charles: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs. Edwin: Edwin: Please don't push the Cat King down the stairs. Charles, pushing the Cat King down the stairs: Too late.

Crystal: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed. Edwin: But you do know better.

Edwin: Ew. What kind of tea is this? Charles: I boiled gatorade.

Niko: Are you mad? Jenny: No. Niko: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Charles: What the fuck is with english teachers and being like; "write a story about a deep and personal memory that impacted your life". Ma'am, if I do that you're going to send me to the counselor's office.

Crystal and Charles: Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

Charles: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait. Edwin: You and me. Charles: *tearing up* Ok.

Crystal: Hey, can I get a sip of that water? Esther: It’s not water. Crystal: Vodka! I like your sty- Esther: It’s vinegar. Crystal: …What? Esther: It's vinegar, PUSSY.

Charles: Underestimate me. That'll be fun.

Edwin: Welcome to Fucking Applebees, do you want apples or bees? Crystal: Bees? Edwin: THEY HAVE SELECTED THE BEES! Crystal: Wait- *Charles approaches, shaking a jar of bees menacingly*

Jenny: What’s something you guys are better than Edwin at? Crystal: Mario Kart. Charles: Yeah, video games. Niko: Emotional vulnerability.

Charles: So apparently the "bad vibes" I've been feeling are actually "Severe psychological distress."

Charles: You're a lying piece of shit! Crystal: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Edwin: I'm leaving and I'm taking Niko with me! Jenny, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

Charles: If you were to have sex with any insect scaled up to human size, what would it be? Jenny: What the hell is wrong with you?

Charles, about Edwin: I would never say that my partner is a bitch and I don’t don’t like them. That’s not true… My partner is a bitch and I like them so much!

Esther: *writing a letter* Esther: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty... And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard.

Charles: How do those little boys on XBOX parties always know what slur to call you? Crystal: They're empaths.

Charles: Mama. Just killed a man. Charles: Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead. Charles: MAMAAAAAAAA OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Edwin: What?! Let me hide the body, where is it? Is there anyone around that can hear us? Edwin: ...Are those song lyrics? Charles: Those are song lyrics.

Crystal: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Edwin: *sighs* Edwin: I killed a man.

Edwin: Unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, I cannot just 'walk up and join a circle of people talking', but it does sound lovely, thank you.

Edwin: What's this? Charles, hugging Edwin: Affection! Edwin: Disgusting. Edwin: ...Do it again.

Edwin: If you've ever had a crush on me, god bless your poor, misguided heart.

Crystal: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why. Edwin: Only if you also don't ask why. Edwin: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of their bag* Crystal: ... Crystal, grabbing a skull: This one will do.

Niko: Source? Crystal: Divine intuition.

Crystal: Made you all playlists! Crystal: Jenny, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul. Crystal: Edwin, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression. Crystal: And Niko has the ABBA Gold album.

Charles, to Niko: You know, the Cat King can be really aggressive, so it's important to take all the necessary precautions when approaching. Charles: *blows airhorn at the Cat King* GET FUCKED!

Niko: Croissants: dropped Charles: Road: works ahead Crystal: BBQ sauce: on my titties Monty: Shavacado: fre Jenny: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead Edwin: Edwin: ...I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

#dead boy detectives #incorrect quotes #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #esther finch #monty the crow #the cat king

[dremiru]

alright i was planning to put out a big celebratory nublar six fanart for chaos theory day but since its 10 and I'm only done with darius I'm putting a pin in that and instead posting the notes i took at the time while watching the show!!

BIG JURASSIC WORLD CHAOS THEORY SPOILERS AHEAD

I'm going to come out with more sane-sounding analyses and all when i calm down so stick around for that -> for this i was just writing down whatever was in my head while watching but it's still fun!! (italicized the best fragments)

episode 1: - oh my fucking god bens a redditor. my sweet boy what have u done to him - darius calling brooklynn just to hear her voice made me tear up :(( - oh my GOD i missed benrius so so much

episode 2: - HE TURNED HIS VAN INTO A HUGE DORK POUCH AWWW LOVE THIS LITTLE (BIG) GUY - "guess we could've looked that up but… well…" BEN. - WHAT THE FUCK WHATTHEFUCK BEN AND BROOKLYNN WHY ARE U DOING THIS TO ME - SHES SO CUTE…… - im crying,,,, - brookes an investigative journalist awww that fits her so well - them bonding over dark jurrassic i CANNOT - ben being obsessive and dealing with constant anxiety ahhh - darius just called ben 'benjamin' i am in shambles - ohhhwwhbgb theyre fighting over trust and brooklynn and ughghhh my babies - awww bonding over candy i MISSED THEM SO MUCH

episode 3: - SAMMY LIVING ON HER FARM AHH - she doesnt talk to her parents anymore??? girl we all KNOW you care, you loved them SO MUCH?? she sacrificed so much for them what the hell happened - BUMPER CARRRRR SHES HEERREEEEEE - AWWW HER AND BENS REUNION!!!!!!! - ben defending bumpy. also i dont like carlos - SAMMY GIRLIE I LOVE U SO MUCH PLEASE GO SEE A THERAPIST. AVOIDING UR PROBLEMS BY KEEPING URSELF BUSY ISN'T HEALTHY. PLEASE - WHATTHEFUCK WHATTHEFUCK HER SEEING BROOKE I AM IN SHAMBLES - SAMMY GUTTIEREZ. STOP. - THE TEARS IN HER EYES - OH MY GOD IM SOBBING WHAT THE FUCK - "And what, Darius? Stop and think about Brooklynn dying, or my family not speaking to me, or Yaz pulling away from me? No. I… I can't stop. I won't." JESUS FUCGIN CHRSIT WHY - ^ im gonna have to post a whole analysis on this scene because wgat the fuck man - seeing them back in their 'hiding from the dinos' selves fbiudsjkbgfskd - Sammy with Brookes jacket awhghh - ^ also i STILL believe Brooklynns alive I DONT CARE WGAT ANYBODY SAYS PKAEASE - ^^ HHDFUSIGIF - alr this is the 2nd scene involving cars and jumping i have to start counting - ok ths is building up GOOD

episode 4: - ben being emo and sighing so somebody would notice him BROO - THEYRE SO CUTE?? benrius married for the double income shenanigans - YEAH BUMPYS A BOSS SHELL BE FINE - BGFDHUJKH THEYRE ADORABLE - i didn't know i needed benrius conspiring together until we got it - BEN HAS A GIRLFRIEND. !!!! - DARIUSES FLASHBACK SJIT?? - these children. (theyre older than me now i think) - oh my fucking god theyre all so traumatised - DARIUS AND KENJI ARENT ON SPEAKING TERMS. THE HELL. - KENJIIIII HEIII!!! - HES IGNORING HIM. WHAT THE FUVKING HWELL - hes an eat-love-climb kinda guyy - WHYRE THEY FIGHTINGG - oh hes BLAMING DARIUS for brooklynn? KENJI KON WHAT THE FUCK - she went to see daniel?????? why. - SAM CALLING YASMINA ALL THE TIME I - KENJ AND DARIUS WITH TRUST - sammy ranting about yaz doing things she doesn't like i- PLEASE communicate. i beg u creator gods make them actually TALK to each other - "I think we should split up." "gasp you and yaz?!" "what?! noo! us! the three of us!!! …why, did she say somethin'?" OH MY GODSHBKJG HOW BAD IS THEIR SITUATION IM SCARED - sammy just tickled the keys off him - THEY LEFT DARIUS TO DEAL WITH IT. - okay them having the emotional conversation ON THE CLIFFSIDE. ok. - KENJI BROKE UP W HER?? alright were getting dinostar then right - ^ christ man i am too good at guessing these things - DARIUS NOT KNOWING HOW CLIMBING ROPES WORK LMAO - okay B&Kenji were cute im gonna miss them - but Brooklynn ignoring him,,, JUSTIFIES IT. I GET IT KENJ OK - POOR KENJI??? WTF??????????? - OH GODFFDHGFBV AND BEFORE HER DEATH TOO WHY - OKAY i get that i should pay more attention to the dinostar crumbs and all but all i feel rn is sympathy for kenji. hes been done wrong ENTIRELY in this scenario and just. man. - HTEY GOT BUMPY

episode 5: - aiaiai darius babY PLEASE - make them COMMUNICATE. PKEAFEEE - kenji calls ds mom more than he does whagthehellman - SAMS STILL CALLING YAZ AGHHH - OK THE TEARS IN HER EYES STOP IT - her and 'benjamin' bickering AHH - SHES SOOOO GIRLBOSS I LOVE LVOE HER - WTF THAT GUYS AN ASSHOLE?? - aaand THEYRE FREEING THE DINOS! - FHUCkin daniel kon - AHH THEYRE SO CUTESY - BEN SUSPECTING SAMMY. AND JUST SAMMY. WHAT THE FUCK - 'but i promise, I do trust you. now.' OOOHHHH MY SWEET SWEET DUDEEE. FUCK U - i get WHY i GUESSS, with his paranoia and all but thats an ASSHOLE move - daniel and kenji ermmbnbgvjsdk - HES TRYING TO MANIPULATE HIM AGAAAINN DUDE ITS GETTING BORING - w6AT. TF. KENJI - ooh the good ol dino chase!! - SAMMY BEING A GOOD FIGHTER AWHGHH - WFAH THAT SCARED ME - ok they made up!! - I KNEW THIS GUY WAS AWFUL - OKAYYYYY KENJ YESSS TALK ABOUT IT!!! FINALLYYYY COMMUNICATIONNNN - YESWSS AHDJFSN THEYRE TALKING - I LOVE THIS SO MUCH TEARS FLOWING DOWN MY CHEEKS AHFGDS - I HATE THIS FUCKING GUY AIGERG SDFJ - YES KENJI GO OFF BITCH!!!!!! - brooke… whatttth, - TF WAS SHE DOING - OH MY FUCKING GOD THE SCREAM I SCREAMT WHEN I SAW THIS DINOSAUR CONTROLLING PERSON NIGHTMARE FUCKING FUEL - WHAT THE FGUCK WHYS SHE SO UNCANNY VALLEY I LITTERALLY JUMPED AND MOVED AWAY IMMEDIATELY - oh he doesnt die :( - still WHO IS THAT?? - oh he does die :) - fr tho - KENJI POOR BABY IM SO SORRY. as if he didnt go through enough already.. - WHY TEHGFHBVCKJS OH WHO ARE U U EERIE FUCKIN - is kenj having a panic attack!!!! - BCFHSDKJFBJKDBFKJVX THEYRE SO CUFKING SCARY WHY ARE THEIR MOVEMENTS SO MECHANICAL - KENJI SAYING お父さん NOW I AM DDYING. I WILL NOT RECOVER.

episode 6: - SHITTTT YAZ'S HEREEE - ohhhh fuck shes dealing with A LOT - DARLING U OK??? - THE FLASHBACKS ARE TERRIFYING - shes so pretty!!!! - BROOKLYNN BITCH WHTWS FD - THEYRE SOOOOO CUTEEEEE - I LOVE HOW YAZS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES HAVE BEEN AND STILL ARE PORTRAYED - I'm SO glad to see her dealing with everything and slowly getting over some of her trauma - ooh ok YAZ AND SAMMY - THEYRE SO HSGDIUF - okay so the solution to the problem is. TALK. its just. TALK TO EACH OTHER. - AWHH OK SHES NOT READY I SUPPOSEE - SHIT sam bb i get protecting the ones u love. but u shouldnt hide things from ur gf just so she doesnt feel bad. especially things so huge. - AND YAZ. babygirl. you shouldn't avoid your gf if shes doing something ure uncomfortable with. you shouldn't ignore her and make her feel bad abt it. YASAMY. THIS IS AN INTERVENSION. TALK TO EACH OTHER. ACTUALLY. PLEASE - ^ this is me showing how much im loving this storyline. VERY annoyed. love angst in fav ships. GOTTA HAVE SOME SPICE ONCE IN A WHILE I GET IT - ^^ but if they break up im killing myself - sammY PLEASEEFH DONT ASSUME JUST TALK. PTSD/MENTAL HEALTH IN GENERAL ISNT THAT SIMPLE - theyre both doing wrong things AND I JUST AGHHH -ALTHOUGHH when they finally DO communicate itll be SOO satysfying - EEEE HERE THEY AREEEEEEE - awkward. a little. BUT SWEET - OK NO I CHANGED MY MIND THEYRE SOOOO CUTEEEE - and ben and yazs friendship AGHGHHHG - therapy island. awh okayy!! - YAZS SO PASSIONATE I LOVE IT - 'ohohohhh… let me show u!… benny boy' - this is GOOD. it IS impressive!! - SAMMY STOP IT - YES YASMINA TALK ABOUT IT - I AM LOVING THIS OH MY GOD - JESUS CHRIST BEN - NAH WHAT THE FUCK - WHY. BENJAMIN. - yasammyyyyyy i love u to hell and back WHY R U LIKE THIS - ben&yaz bonding!!!! - YEAHHH SHES HAPPY FOR UUUU - THE BESTIESSSS - OH MY GOD THE FUCKING DINOSAURS ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING - ohhh this isnt good!!! - OHHKAY THE GUYS DEAD WHAT THE FUCK - jumping car scene count: 3 - 'big bens got moves' SHE SAID THE LINE - i feel like DPW is gonna play a bigger role in this - ^AND IM RIGHT. - WGAT THE FUCNK

episode 7: - OHKAY WHATS GOING ON - theyre up buttt….. what the hell r they gonna do. they either drown or get eaten by a dino. - YASAMMMYYYYY I MISSED U SO MUCH - AND THEYRE SPEAKING AND SHJOWING AND HFUDSI - okay KENJIS HABING A PANIC ATTACK I AM - quick break to say the mental health representation and how its done in this show is one of the best examples on how to portray mentally unwell characters I've seen lately - WTF DOES THIS GUY HAVE TO DO WITH THIS - bens soggy van is what ure complaining about rn guttierez??? - OK THE SCENE OF BS DEATH I CANT IM SOBBING - them both reaching for the phone ok. - THEYRE ALIVE, - YASAMMYS BACK OFFICIALLY PEOPLE I AM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP - ben respectfully i love u but that van wouldve died of old age in a matter of a week - SHE HAD A PLACE - he finally got to throw them phones away - I AM SCREAMING OVER THESE YASAMMY MOMENTS IM AHGFSFJSV - 'oh i am so gonna hunt them from beyond the grave' yasmina fadoula will u marry me - oh right they dont have their phones so theyre not gonna be able to find each other - ok so if im picking up what theyre putting down correctly brooklynn was investigating illegall DPW dinosaur dropoffs?? - cant tell if kenjis coming to terms with it or being jealous - WHAT THE FUCK OK SHE EITHER GOT REALLY INTO THAT INVESTIGATING OR SHES ACTUALLY WENT CRAZY - ok this kenji sequence questioning scene was amazing

episode 8: - wgat the aHELL wr they doin - ok darius and kenji awkwardly connecting. good - ^and darius being protective around kenj over brooklynns phone since he left so many voicemails that he doesnt want him to hear? jesus christ man - OKAY my favourite little trio in a truck with a dinosaur chat do we think theyll survive this - tbh the amount of times in these kids lives where the probablity of survival was scary low is. er. sad - ^ not only for them cause of trauma and stuff but for the random bg characters - dude dies after seeing a dino ONCE but six random kids? yeah theyll survive DOZENS without help - quickly ill just say we need a name for the lesbians and their emotional support muscle wall. their dynamic is superb - the kenji and brooklynn video I LOVE THEM - BABYTALK - . POOKIE BEAR. KENJI WENJI. - shit fuckballs they're fighting again - darius. just. talk? - YES THIS IS GOOD TOO THIS IS GOOD - that CAN be a coping mechanism i GUESSS - what. who r u - DPW BOSS? - YEAH I THOUGHT THEYD FALL FOR THAT AGAIN THANK GOD - YOU WERE IN WHAT WITH WHO NOW - ^WHAT THHFSDN - ^^I WAS EXPECTING THIS HIGHKEY BUT STILL - ^^^ its good that he told kenji about this - ^^^^ and its GREAT that kenji's understanding - is this THE video??? - SHE IS WHAT NOW - maybe this is how they get to take these dinos away?? by pretending the dinos are dead in the face of the law?? - 'ooh heyyy!. boo.' I LOVE U GUYS - it IS the video. - OK BUT A LITTLE BIT LONGER - if i was in dariuses place i would NEVER recover - KENJI RESPECTFULLY DON;T - ^DONT BLAME HIM???? - please dont let this be the scary lady - YEAH KENJ ATLEAST URE RESPECTFUL - whats going on with bumpy. - YASAMMMY I WANNA INJECT U INTO MY VEINS - SHESAIDTHELINESHESAIDTHELINE - ^ 'wanna make a little chaos?' WHAT IF I DIE. WHAT IF I DIE YASMINA. WHAT THEN. - 'maybe. maybe not!!!!' BABIES?? - r the dinos drugged or controlled with the same method the inhumane ladys using - ^or are they tranqued out of their minds. idk. - OH SHIT? THEY SHOULDNT KILL AT THE WATERING HOLE guess it isnt really that is it - BENJAMIN NO

episode 9: - now SAMMYS anxiety's spiking - ok bens gonna not die hopefully?? - i love them stalking. the little creepers. hehe - BUMPER CARRR WHATS GOING ON - ^ is she drugged or smth :((( - ^^^maybe shes pregnant?? but idk idk i dont think so - ^^^^ fucking forshadowing - ^^^^^ i sincerely hope its more positive than im thinking - COMMUNICATION!!!!!!!! YESSSS!!! - theyre the cutest!!!! Yasammy charades level teamwork!!!!! - ok i love both the teams - kenji and darius sticking up for each other despite everything. DO THEY WANNA MAKE ME SUFFER - the kon puns im crying - KENJI HELPING DARIUS CLIMB IM SCREAMING - ok quick intermission i LOVE yazs design shes so cute - hndsgjkb JUST FIND EACH OTHER ALREADY - BENJAMIN CMON U GOTTA SAVE HER - 'Are you dying?' WHATRF ESDGUHKUFDGKJBFDXBFVGBUFIDCFGVBKJSDXBC K EFAHBUISDAGEBDBWAUISDFK - ^ NO - ^^ NO - ^^^ NOOOOOOO - WHATTTTTFDSDGJBMGDF - SHE CANT BE - ILL SOB MY EYES OUT I SWEAR TO GOD - BEN HIDING AND CRYING I - I FEEL U IM DOING THE SAME EXACT THING RN - OKAY THEY KNOW NOW - yaz&sammy&kenji&darius reunion1!!!!1! - ^ AND WHERES BEN - BUMPY. U STRONG STRONG WOMAN. I WANT U TO KNOW THAT IF U DIE. I WILL TOO. - IM GONNA KILL MYSLEF/.

(this i fear is where i realise that im going insane)

- CREEPY MICRO BANGS IS AN AMAZING NAME FOR UNCANNY VALLEY WOMAN YEAH - yeah atp i think weve all figured out its an illegal dino selling business - wGAT - yeah WTF WAS SHE DOING - 'no talk. come quick. bumpys dying.' IM FUCKING DYING TOO!!!!!!!! FUCK THIS SHIT OH MY GOD - BUMPER CAR DO NOT. PLEASE. DONT. - WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK I WAS RIGHT - ^ WTF WTF I - thats an egg. - DONT THINK ABOUT IT BUD.

episode 10: - these kids r so traumatised they do not need this - IS SHE RLY DEAD…. - ok so its two separate factors i think?? DPW on one side, creepy micro bangs on the other. right? - ^ this is delving DEEP into the mystery factor… - BEN WTF!!!!! DONT JUST??? DO THAT???????? - OMFG SHES HERE - ^ I HATE HER IHATEHERIHATEHER - SHES WHY THE DINOS R ACTING WEIRD - WHY IS SHE SO FUCKING UNCANNY I CANNOT - ^ SHES LIKEA CARNIVORE DINOSAUR IF IT WAS A HUMAN - ok so SHES the real boss. the unresponsive. wide eyed. controlling dinosaurs. microbangs. woman. - SWHE KILLED BROOKLYNN. - ^ WHAT THE FUCK. - im ngl i DID kinda dig her vibe but AFTER HEARING THIS I JUST CAngfijbdsuif FUCK U - who THE HELL - GET UR FREAKY ASS BOB AWAY - BRUH PUT THAT FUCKING WHISTLE DOWN - IM GOING TO HAVE NIGHTMARES OVER THIS LADY - WHAT THE - theyre way too lucky who the hell is driving that truck - i feel like atleast ONE of them shoulda got injured in that fall - OH MATEO!!!! HI BB - OOP CREEPY BANGS DEAD YIPPEE - AND THEYRE ALL GOING BAZONKAS?? BC SHES UNRESPONSIVE I PRESUME? - ALWAYS THE MFING RAPTORS - okay theyre definitely coca in the loca - WGAT TJR FJCUK EPIC EXPLOSION TYRANNOSAURUS REX - ^ R U SLASH J OR SRS RN - JESUS I LOVE THESE KIDs - where's yaz. - SAMMY!!! - 'Hey, Stripey! Leave. My girl. Alone!' YTHIS IS WHY I HATE THIS FUCKING SHOW /affectionate - AND THE ALMOST KISS HALF HUG IM KMS - WHY R THEY LIKE THIS - HES LETTING THE ALLOSAURUS OUT???? HUHHHHHHH - DARIUS BOWMAN. - IS HE - IS HE FUCKING - SERIOUS RN - jesus christ this BOY. this BOY man. - DIE - DDDDIIIIIEEEEEE - what tf!!!! the broker??? - we still dont know the creepy bangs name…. - so we're getting a 2nd season right - AWW YASAMMY SHOT - HWRFIUSDHGSFDKHAWVBSDXCZKJLGDHSFKLJGBJKESRDFJ - WHYSDHIFUJDIGVBDFS - WHEN I TELL U I JUMPED I MEAN I JJJUUUUMMMMPPPEEEEDDDD - THIS EERIE ASS BITCH KEEPS ON SHOWING UP WHEN I DONT EXPECT IT - DONT GET ME WRONG - PEAK CHARACTER DESIGN - AND THE LOOK ITSELF IS RLY CUTE AND ALL - BUT IF I SAW A BITCH THAT LOOKED AND BEHAVED LIKE THIS I WOULDVE SCREAMED MY INTESTINES OUT AND RAN ALL THE WAY TO AUSTRALIA - THE CREEPIEST CHARACTER IVE SEEN IN YEARS IM AFRAID - oh she still cares about her dinos!!! this makes her a little more human - a little less scary - ok - her movements r less mechanical more affectionate now - less hvfudignb BIGBFI SHE JUST TURNED - thank GOD shes gone - theyre me - 'well that was… unnerving' WELL SAID - YASAMMY HUG!! - YEAHHHH THE LOOK!! - the regular schmegular 'let's save the day' speech. we gotchu darius!! - GASPPP - ok so UNREQUITED dinostar - OH MY GHRHSIUDF THATS SO FUCKING SAD - DARIUS MY BABY I - YEAH!! SHOW UP!!!!! - ofc they are????? - it IS a very brooklynn thing to fo - you kon count him in too!!! - LMAO MATEO I LOVE YOU - YUP YUP BUMPER CAR NEEDS CARE AND SAFETY - IS THIS THE END??? - please give me atleast one more cryptic scene - OH SHES IN ON IT TOO?/BG - bgiudsfgtbfseruifdgkdfx - I FUCKING TOLDF U - I TOLD U ALL - I SAID IT FIRST - HGIUDFSOI;GT;ERASFOICXLBVNIPGRSD - SHE LOST AN ATM - SHES ALIVE - THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN FUCKING TALKINHG ABOUT - TOLD U SHE COULDNT BE DEAD I MEAN. ITS BROOKLYNN.

(ok all in all. this was. an experience. gonna leave it at that and go take a nap)

#jwct spoilers #jurrassic world chaos theory #jwct #darius bowman #brooklyn jwcc #yasmina fadoula #sammy gutierrez #ben pincus #kenji kon #get ready for a bunch of analyses and all cause MAN #this hyperfixation will last for quite some time

[twenyonepilots]

i feel like this album it's really hitting me how much time has passed. like tyler and josh have grown up, but so have we. ten years ago i'd curl up in my dorm room and feel so alone and put them on and it'd be a little better. now i'm going to concerts and listening parties with my wife🥹

Okay but same! like right in the nostalgia! its crazy that Tyler’s a dad now and Josh is married to Debby and we got to watch them grow up and navigate fame at a pretty young age and all this time has passed and while watching them grow up the clique grew up too like a lot of us fucking made it we clawed and ripped our way out of the darkness and i couldnt be more proud to be a fan of such a community its more than the music its the camaraderie of sticking it out together i cant even describe the feeling of pride and nostalgia that comes with this one it really feels like such a full circle moment…

let me just get a little emotional for a sec when i first started listening to them i was in such a similar situation i felt like i had no one that understood i was so lonely and depressed and had lost the majority of my high school friend group due to my 3 grippy sock vacations my junior year… i just remember feeling completely lost and alone before i found them and started listening to the music and im so glad that i did!

a fews day before i turned 18 i literally met my best friend and wife at a twenty one pilots show!!! i posted on here saying i had tickets to the show but no one to go with and i was nervous because it would be my first time going to a concert alone we ended up meeting up at the show and ive never been to a show alone ever since! when i turned 18 i got tyler’s writing on my ankle, “think” a promise to myself to keep going when times are rough and i never turned back….that tattoo is a decade old and fading now and twenty one pilots have been there for me every step of the way pulling me up and out of that trench and dont even get me started on the family that is the clique! like i met my wife at a twenty one pilots show and we’ve got to witness so much life through their music…so much love!! so many friendships! marriages! and little clique babies! vacations and dinners and parties and weddings and L I F E all because we loved a band. my nephew was born in 2016 and i didnt even get to meet him for a week because while he was being born i was in Michigan in line for emotional roadshow grand rapids and now my nephew is 8 and his f a v o r i t e band in the entire world is twenty one pilots he started drum lessons and when he had his first recital he did Jumpsuit because he wants to be just like Josh when he grows up i know im really on a tangent here but this band means so much its more than a band its more than music its everything i have thats good in my life because i found something to help me hold on

#it really be like….the few the proud the emotional ya know?!

[laurabwrites]

WIP I'm Accepting I Will Never Write

My brain has been generating too many Star Wars ideas for me ever reasonably get around to writing all of them, so I'm going to start dumping them on here (maybe AO3 as well, not sure yet) once I've accepted it's an idea I won't get to. So, to start off:

Anakin got Arrested at the Start of the War

In this one, Anakin's massacre on Tatooine was revealed shortly into the war (Qui-Gon Jinn's ghost, A'Shared Hett or Padmé having a conscience, doesn't matter it's not the point of the idea and I don't think it affects the plot). Anakin goes to Jedi jail in the Temple and the war proceeds apace.

At the end of the war, when Palpatine sets off Order 66, the Temple Guard who in another timeline became the Grand Inquisitor lets Anakin out. They would be killing all the Jedi, but somehow the Jedi have been alerted and the Temole seems strangely light on clone troopers they could be using as backup. The Grand Inquisitor knows this, Anakin doesn't. He's been in Jedi jail and has no idea what normal operations in the Temple have looked like for the past three year. They manage to get to the atrium of the Temple with the objective of getting out and rounding up some clone troopers to come back with. Except there's this Tortuga fighting both of them. She's not getting in any hits in on them but this scrappy, can't be more than 16, 17-year-old is holding both of them off while simultaneously organizing the Padawans and Initiates to grab younglings and run.

Then the 212th enters, Cody and Rex frog marching Obi-Wan in.

Which gives Anakin the opportunity to villain monologue about the Jedi Order not understanding emotion, they threw him away, Palpatine recognizes his true power, Obi-Wan will see the destruction of everything he holds dear, blah blah blah. Basically entitled white boy I did no wrong (ignore the dead children), you'll regret being so mean to me (enforcing the consequences of my own actions), ranting regurgitating Palpatine's bullshit about Jedi.

Meanwhile, the Grand Inquisitor is noting that a lot of kids are safely getting the fuck outta Dodge and the 212th is getting some good lines of fire. Why are they letting Anakin monologue instead of enacting Order 66?

Finally as Anakin is winding down, Obi-Wan speaks up: yes but, you see, you made one critical mistake.

Anakin, sneering: oh what's that

Obi-Wan: you hurt your Padawan-sister

Obi-Wan Force pushes Ahsoka and every remaining kid out of range while the entire 212th opens fire on Anakin and Grand Inquisitor.

Inquisitor is dead on the ground (sorry buddy, you were just a plot device to get Anakin out of his cell and show off how badass Ahsoka is with Soreasu mixed into her Jar'dai (I think I spelled those right...)). Anakin is on his Force bullshit, not quite dead, as Obi-Wan, Cody, and Rex come over to check.

Anakin: you won't finish me off, you're a Jedi, you're too weak.

Rex putting three rounds in his chest and three in his head: I'm no Jedi, slaver.

Backstory to get to this scene that slammed into me like a ton of bricks months and months ago:

212th never split the 501st off since Anakin wasn't there to get Knighted. Therefore Fives went to Obi-Wan when he found the chip. Obi-Wan got Shaak Ti to distract the Kaminoans, so Quinlan (or another Shadow, but I like using Quinlan for the known connection to Obi-Wan) could dig in Kaminoans' files and find documentation as well as an emergency counter signal. Obi-Wan dechipped his battalion anyway, not wanting to rely on the counter signal being permanent. They then jammed Coruscant's communications when Cody got the Order from Palpatine. 212th then uses the counter signal on the Corries, as they go to the Temple to grab whatever Masters were on planet. The clones and a fourth of the Council go kill Palpatine as he's declaring the Empire on the floor of the Senate.

#star wars #writing #ideas I won't get to #order 66 fix-it #anakin Skywalker's tusken raider massacre reveal #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #captain rex #212th attack battalion #ahsoka tano

[hailsatanacab]

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

#dpxdc #dead tired #anger management #(barely but it's there haha) #dcxdp #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #i'm sorry this has taken a while but also this week has kinda sucked and i'm still pissed off about that #so writing has been a nice little break from that!!!! #i hope you enjoy it!! i'm not fantastic with writing romance/ships so like... hope it's alright haha #also i feel kinda bad about not putting the whole phantom reveal too but like... we get that all that time haha #idk maybe i'll continue it #OH SHIT I FORGOT MY WRITING TAG HOLD ON #must admit - i do like that you can edit the tags now even though the new post maker sucks #anyway!!!!!!! i had this whole bit from danny's pov in the beginning where he just decided to go to sleep but realised that fucking sucked #it was so boring haha #so we got this instead! #hope the emotions came across - i feel like i have a tendency to just go cold and clinical when emotions happen #idk #oh! danny and tim met because danny's a part time barista and when tim ordered his monstrocity of a drink danny just winked and said #'ah the walking dead special coming right up!' and added another three espresso #jason and jazz met before they did though - and none of them knew they were dating the other's family #danny and jason have a bit of a rocky relationship - he's not good enough for jazz!! she deserves way better than some two-bit gangster!! #jason just thinks he's a cute overprotective brother - he really envies their relationship and wishes he could have something like that #he likes to rib danny and tbh danny is really warming up to him too - now that the gross stinky ecto is starting to filter out #(which is thanks to him and jazz - which jason does know about and is extremely grateful for) #(he really does love jazz and is a little bit jealous that tim told danny he loved him first) #(jason goes home that night and dips jazz into a kiss and whispers it into her skin over and over again) #(he loves her he loves her he loves her - and who the fuck is johnny?) #once tim gets over his shock he's doing good! of course he accepts danny there was never any question of that #he meets ellie and then introduces her to kon and the rest of the team and ellie decides she might like to do some superheroing for a bit

[clotpolesonly]

Blue Lily, Lily Blue ch 15 // Mister Impossible ch 25

#pynchedit #adamedit #ronanedit #brydeedit #trcedit #tdtedit #Pynch #Adam Parrish #Ronan Lynch #Bryde #TRC #TDT #quote posts #i'm genuinely shocked still by the lack of fics featuring abusive!Bryde #either exploring the canon dynamic or making use of him in AUs #cuz like........this exchanged stopped me cold when i first read it #it's a dead ringer for when Adam was triggered by cabeswater/the night horror in bllb #are you mad at me? what did i do wrong? have the rules changed? why are you mad? what do you want me to do to make up for it? #and Bryde hasn't even said anything it's just Ronan getting a vibe and immediately jumping to ''i fucked up he's mad what did i do wrong'' #it just feels so indicative of their vibe and the atmosphere that Bryde has fostered that that's Ronan's instinct #he doesn't do that with anyone else #i know Bryde is a manifestation of Ronan's own subconscious but that doesn't prevent him from being abusive #dreams have agency once their dreamt and Bryde uses his agency to be a dick to his dreamer alkfdgh #the amount of emotional manipulation and the way he undermines Ronan's confidence in himself #the way he controls Ronan #i'm still not over Ronan looking to Bryde for PERMISSION to see Matthew #i'm just saying ok i'm JUST SAYING this parallel speaks volumes to me it's emblematic of their whole dynamic #i'll shut up now #ps pls write fics with abusive Bryde and/or cult leader Bryde cuz they're the same thing tbh

[bisaster-energy]

people who hc cas as this just. guy that helps dean with his issues and trauma. why are you living that "no one cares that you're broken cas" life. why are you not caring about him.

#this isn't even a complete thought tbh #just irks me a lil bit when cas is normal adjusted guy that helps the ever fucked up and sad dean with HIS problems #Cas has his own shit?? The only person that thinks cas is fine is cas tbh #he's like yeah Sam and Dean are so damaged...I'm ok tho *is suicidal and self-loathing* #the thing about destiel is that they are both so incredibly fucked up that's what makes it so compelling!! #u diminish cas' character by writing an au where dean is like. Spiralling while cas is some normal guy #with maybe occasional loneliness. where is the obsession #where is the ego death. where's the ptsd the generational trauma. where is the need to run away. #where is the self flagellation where is the heart shattering feeling of never quite belonging. #Disclaimer write and think wtv you want I'm just so emotional about cas being his own person and get sad and mad about it

[incesthemes]

it's so significant to me that do you believe in miracles paralleled all hell breaks loose specifically. because ahbl is the first time dean violates sam's autonomy to bring him back to life. it shows the extreme lengths that dean will go to protect sam, and despite all the other times dean has ignored sam's personhood in his pursuit to keep him alive, this is the moment in the show that fully exemplifies just how codependent these two really are, because there's an entire season dedicated to the consequences of that codependency.

so for dybim to take that imagery and scenario and reverse the roles means that this is supposed to be just as indicative of their codependence. it's a threshold that will have major consequences because sam crossed over the point of no return. there's no going back from choosing unhealthy codependency with your brother, the show is signaling. dean is sam's ultimate decision—he doesn't choose himself, he doesn't choose independence, he chooses dean, and all that that entails. he probably only realizes that all of his posturing about autonomy was a lie at the very moment he says it out loud, but once he's finally honest with himself it's a done deal. just like dean can never go back from his deal for sam's life, sam can never return to any point before this moment. he's in this relationship for good, and he wants to be codependent with dean; that's his decision.

and this is why soul survivor hurts so bad. because dean, like sam in season 9, declares that they're not family, not brothers. the role reversal continues, and sam is now suffering all of the pains he unwittingly put dean through by trying to maintain boundaries between them. now that he's realized he can't handle having those boundaries, any distance between him and dean is too much. here sam is, violating dean's autonomy and saving him against his will, just like dean has done to him so many times before. here he is, listening to dean reject him over and over again, like a parody of all sam's attempts to extricate himself from dean. he's on the other side now, staring down his brother and seeing his past self within him.

9.23 to 10.03 is just a speedrun of the previous 8 seasons but in reverse, with sam enduring the suffering of being in dean's position. and how tragic is it for sam to finally commit to his codependent relationship with dean, only for dean to leave him the moment it happens? how must that feel, for him to finally return his brother's feelings in all their toxic and fucked up glory, only to lose him in the worst way? to have all of his own words shouted back at him with the cruel intent to hurt—jesus christ. how am i supposed to cope with this in any normal way?

#supernatural #wincest #this isn't even beginning to touch on the actual content of the 10.03 exchange. i could write another essay on the mention of john alone #seriously this role reversal shit has poisoned my brain. i'm NOT okay about this #if i could get a phd in the emotional plot of supernatural seasons 8-10 i would actually #this show IS so good at the big picture. it fucks up the small stuff so bad but the overarching meaning and plot is genuinely good #the parallels and reversals and mirroring in s8-10 are seriously evocative and poignant. and for what #it's 6am. my dogs woke me up at 4:30 to pee and i've been thinking about this nonstop ever since #how could they do this to me #the significance of dean being the one to throw away the family just when sam finally embraces it. jesus christ #and the fact that he has to be a demon to do that too #i'm so sick. nauseous over this. fuck #i'm going back to bed. good night #.txt #the winchester gospel #spn posting #9.23 #2.22 #10.03