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murdrdocs · 11 months

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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #hobie brown fluff #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk #celeste writs mcu #hobiesworld!#hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse

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themaevethcometh · 2 years

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man i’m really bothered by this last bit of stranger things

#maeve posts #i promise i'll return to more diverse posting soon #i've just been thinking about it all day #it really did not satisfy me i keep thinking of things that could've been better and what they should've done instead #also i am obsessed with these characters when they are written consistently so #i will still be into this for a while #but yeah this entire day i've just been rotating around those two episodes in my mind #stranger things spoilers #just in case #idk i don't think it's a spoiler that there were things i didn't like and inconsistent characterization #but if some of my friends want to go in fully blind then i guess that's a good tag to include

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catsfor2 · 1 year

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hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

#ellie x reader #ellie fic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #lesbian #tlou fic #tlou #tlou part 2 #catsfor2

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 3 months

Text

could've been [i.engen x reader]

prompt: after all the regret, ingrid finally changes. too bad you aren't there to see it.

author notes: this is my sorry for making ingrid so toxic in part one, i swear she is ten times better in this one. hope y'all enjoy itt! look at the bottom of the fic for another surprise.

warnings: angst but not in a (part one) way, lots of mentions of regret, ingrid gets help finally, rejection, and more 🤗

part one: nights like this part three: good days

PLEASE, ALLOW ME TO SHOW

YOU SOMETHING

MM, SOMEBODY GIVE ME, YEAH

SOMEBODY GIVE ME, UH

SOMEBODY TELL ME THE ANSWERS

ME AND YOU ISN'T THE ANSWER (UH)

ME AND YOU ISN'T (NO)

MAYBE I'M TELLIN' MYSELF THAT

BUT THERE AIN'T NOTHIN' THAT'LL

CHANGE THAT

WHAT GOOD WOULD IT BE IF I KNEW

HOW YOU FELT ABOUT ME? (YEAH)

healing, change, forgiveness takes time. especially when one is trying to forgive themselves for their actions.

ingrid's therapist told her this in her most recent appointment when she broke down; her tears and words trying to express the guilt that still hangs heavy in her heart. the way she sobs almost makes it seem like she's the victim in the situation. that she was the one played with and cursed at and left to overthink. ingrid knows this. she knows how fucked up it looks to cry after being the one to do all the hurting, but her therapist reminded her that this is one step on the road to being better. those genuine tears of guilt shows remorse. now actions and effort needs to be put behind them so that those tears aren't put to waste.

when the norwegian whispers out, "what if i have done this sooner? do you think she would have left?" her therapist just gives her a small shake of the head before explaining that the past is the past.

"y/n is not the answer to all your problems. she's not the solution, you are. she may have been your first motivation, but now it's time for yourself to be the motivation. you are doing this for the betterment of you," the woman who goes by the name ms. alcaraz says. the way one of her legs are crossed over the other reminds ingrid of how you use to sit whenever listening to ingrid's rambles about her favorite show. y'all's favorite show. she always found it a little funny how many thoughts and items and mannerisms led back to you in her mind.

ms. alcaraz snaps her fingers to get ingrid out of her head. another thing the norwegian needs to work on; less focusing on the past and more looking at the future. "understand? enough dwelling on how you treated her and more working on the problems that led you to those actions," the therapist says as ingrid nods. that makes complete sense even if almost makes her heart snap in half. all she wants to do is remember and dwell and regret over and over again until she runs herself ragged.

the rest of the session is spent figuring out ways for ingrid to finally stop focusing all her on energy on the non-existent forgiveness she wanted from you and how she can finally start to forgive herself. ms. alcaraz proposes for her to write a letter to you. an actual physical letter. not a text from her fake page or an call from a text now number, a physical letter that ingrid would be forbidden to send. the norwegian wants to tell ms. alcaraz no. that this won't help anything. that it will actually make things worst and how she just couldn't do that but then she remembered how many times "couldn't do it" slipped out of her mouth when she talked to you. how badly that impacted your relationship. the fear that was vocal in those words always annoyed you; and ingrid knew this every single time. she just couldn't bring herself to push past that fear and do it. so no, this time around she can do it. will do it. if not for her then for you. even if you won't ever see it and it will just be laying on her desk for days to come, she had to do this.

you deserve an apology, some type of effort even if the only thing left of you in barcelona is just memories.

all ingrid thought about after leaving the session was what to say. what words could express how deeply she regrets everything and how wrong she was? god she just didn't know.

it has been three months since ingrid made the choice to go to therapy and do something about all her issues. for such a long time after you left all ingrid did was cry herself to sleep on her couch every night and then act completely fine all day in front of her "boyfriend" and everyone else. it took one month in therapy for her to break things off with him; her therapist explained to her how leading him on into believing their relationship was worth anything was wrong and will only lead to pain. not just for him, but for her too since being with someone she didn't love wasn't good for her mental health.

it was month two when she finally sat and accepted that she was a lesbian. "i'm a lesbian and i don't understand what that means for me? i can't... i don't know how to.." ingrid said one day at a session as she picked at the skin near her nails. the appointment was actually supposed to be focused on ingrid's fear of being judged and her fear of people's opinions but her vocally proclaiming that she is infact a lesbian led to a different direction for that day. the first direction was worked on in the next appointment with it being a perfect follow up to helping ingrid with her identity crisis.

month three's word of the month was fear. ingrid hated month three. every single last session was focused on what she fears, why she fears it, and how to overcome that fear. she hated it so badly just because the ingrained reaction to fear in her mind is to run. to shut down and isolate or to lash out and explode. there was never a in-between, but now it had to be. that's what she needed if she ever wanted to get better. that's what she needed to make sure all her regret didn't go to waste.

back to that dreadful letter. ingrid went straight to her desk when she reached her apartment. looking around her bedroom for some paper and pen so she could write down the apology she has been wanting to say to you for ages. ingrid finds a paper and a pen in mere minutes, but as she sits down at her desk she stalls for a moment.

is this even worth it? what if this makes everything worse? what if she spirals and can't even figure out what to say? too many what ifs. too much uncertainty. ingrid hated this. she hated that she couldn't just do it. what is her fucking problem?

tears well up in her eyes as she looks at the blank page. her mind was nothing like it. her mind is messy and full and feels like it's going to slip out of her brain onto the floor.

this won't help.

this won't change anything.

this can't change the past.

ingrid won't change, she can't, she's unable to. she's going to be stuck being a horrible person who can't do anything right. someone who fucks up everything in their life. a failure. no wonder you left; she was a fucking mess.

the norwegian doesn't even notice how her tears are now dripping onto the paper. no, no, no. she has to stop. she can't, won't, refuses to give up. if not for herself than at least for you.

do this for you, ingrid. letting your panic blur your vision won't lead to anything good. breathe, just breathe. let it go.

just write and say whatever is what ingrid mentally says to herself as she picks up the pen and starts writing. her fingers are so shaky that the letters on the page are hardly readable, but the emotions are there. the regret, the sorrow, the pain.

ingrid's so sorry.

and she had to make sure you knew that; in spirit. not in actuality.

so she writes and writes and writes until her fingers feel numb.

dear y/n,

i don't know how to start this off or even what to say. you will never see this, but i want it to be perfect. i ruined everything because i was just so afraid. i was scared to find out how people would react if they knew about us and instead of telling you more about my thoughts, i pushed you away. not just pushed you away, i exploded and treated you like shit to make sure you didn't to be near me. at first when i first started to act out i thought you would leave, but you didn't. why didn't you leave? i will never understand it. i'm so grateful you didn't because the moments when i wasn't being a horrible girlfriend, yes i can freely say that we were together now, were the best moments of my life in all honesty. you didn't give up on us, i did. i'm the one who kept running away. who kept using others to make it seem like our relationship was nothing important. you should have left and taught me lesson. well i guess you finally did, but that was after i put you though months of emotional pain. i was an awful girlfriend who let my own personal issues ruin everything and i ruined you. i know i did. and i'm so sorry. i love you, y/n. i love you so much and i don't know how i will ever move on.

IT COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT, BUT

I WAS WRONG (UH)

ONLY THINK 'BOUT YOU WHEN

I'M ALONE (YEAH)

THE PART OF ME THAT CARED IS

ALMOST GONE

AND I KNOW THAT I CAN'T GET CAUGHT UP

WE COULD'VE BEEN

AND WE TRY TO PRETEND

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN

WE DON'T DREAM ABOUT, DON'T

THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN

THOUGH I'M HOLDING IT IN

'CAUSE I KNOW IN THE END

YOU DREAM ABOUT, I THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN

WE COULD'VE BEEN (DAMN)

WE COULD'VE (DAMN)

when you first left you were the only thing filling up ingrid's thoughts. from the moment she woke up, while getting ready for the day, at practice, on the way back home from practice, at matches, during press conferences, every single moment that she was awake she thought about you.

however after the first few months of therapy, slowly but surely you started to slip her thoughts. she started to get back into her hobbies and became more focused at games. you were slowly becoming a memory for her; that didn't mean the regret and pain wasn't still there. those emotions will always hang in the back of her mind even when she moves on. to the day ingrid is on her deathbed, the bullshit she pulled on you will always stay there; that pain will be taken to the grave.

ms. alcaraz has helped her learn how to live on with those emotions. instead of shutting down whenever ingrid felt like everything was too much she would write or meditate or do yoga. anything to clear her mind.

but there's nights where all the norwegian can do is lay in bed. scrolling down on your instagram. even looking at content posted by the san diego wave social media just to get a glimpse of you. when she saw how you and that mystery brunette has already moved in with eachother she wanted to scream. all of those hours of therapy helped her, they really have, but still the immense urge to just explode rests on her chest.

the urge to just blow up your phone with a text now number. the violent urge to just text you on instagram over and over again until you either answer or block her fake page. the burning urge to leave very specific hate comments under your posts about only things she would know shimmers inside of her. however those urges are never answered.

ingrid has changed. she isn't her past self and she can finally feel proud about it. however still she couldn't block your instagram. her scrolling time has gone down from the entire night to just two hours with the help of therapy, but two hours is two hours too much. ingrid knows this.

she still wants some type of connection to you even if it's just a one way street. she can't help it, so for now she will scroll until she either feels satisfied or like she wants to pull out her hair.

after all that the norwegian wonders to herself what went wrong between you two; she already knows that answer. it was her. it was all her fault, but still it's fun to wonder how it would have been if you two had stayed together. if ingrid wasn't scared out of her mind of public scunity. god she hates the what if's that cloud her mind after seeing you happy with your new girlfriend for the ninth time that week.

sometimes, even though her therapist warned her that it could slow down the work ingrid has been doing on herself, ingrid thinks about a different reality. where you and her had an actual happy relationship that was public. you two would be loved by the public. living a great life together and when you two retire y'all would decide to adopt a little girl. the norwegian is unsure of what name you two would have picked out, but it would be gorgeous just like you. that faraway dream always ends with you two living out the rest of y'all's retired days in norway in a quiet neighborhood.

what she would do for that to be true is something she doesn't want to think about. ingrid still hates herself sometimes for what happened, but slowly you are leaving her life fully; and surprisingly she's not even sad about it. actually she welcomes it. those months of therapy are working their magic on her.

REMEMBER?

REMEMBER THE NIGHT IN MIAMI?

FIRST TIME YOU PUT YOUR ARMS

AROUND ME

I'M UP REMINISCIN' (OOH, YEAH)

AND THINKING 'BOUT YOU ISN'T HELPING

THINKING 'BOUT YOU DOESN'T TELL ME

WHAT GOOD WOULD IT DO IF I

DECIDE TO FACE THE TRUTH

IT COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT, BUT I WAS WRONG

ONLY THINK 'BOUT YOU WHEN I'M ALONE

YOU ONLY HIT ME UP WHEN SHE'S NOT HOME

AND THAT'S WHY I CAN'T GET CAUGHT UP

WE COULD'VE BEEN

AND WE TRY TO PRETEND

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN

WE DON'T DREAM ABOUT, DON'T

THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN (OH YEAH)

THOUGH I'M HOLDING IT IN

'CAUSE I KNOW IN THE END

YOU DREAM ABOUT, I THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE, WE COULD'VE BEEN

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN, WE COULD'VE BEEN

ingrid doesn't know when, but sometime after she hit the sixth month of therapy she started to move on from you. something she never thought she would be doing, but she also didn't think you would ever leave either or that she would be in therapy these days so ingrid got used to the surprises that invaded her life.

slowly her heart started to wander towards someone else. a certain tattooed spaniard whose smile sends shivers down her spine; mapi.

ingrid doesn't know when the lines between friendship and love started to blur with mapi, but they did. the spainard was someone she went to when everything got too overwhelming and her therapist's hours were closed. clinging to mapi's waist as her head rests on the defender chest. "sometimes i just feel so stuck you know.. like all my progress wasn't worth it," the norwegian mumbles. mapi's hands rub soft circles on her lower back as she listens. taking in every word ingrid says. "you're never stuck, life always has to move on. just try your best every time, ingrid" she says softly. that's how it always was when mapi comforted ingrid and frankly, the norwegian loves it.

their friendship wasn't always that close. back when you left, ingrid had isolated herself socially. she would go to outings with the team and her little cover-up boyfriend, but she wasn't talking as much as she usually was or drinking or just being her usual self. then after the third month of therapy ms. alcaraz helped her understand that isolation doesn't help anything and that she needs a support system, so ingrid started to go back into being more social. it really did help along with all the therapy she was doing.

then she just started to gravitate towards mapi. it was something alluring and fun about the defender. and it was the same for mapi. she thought ingrid was gorgeous since the first day they met, but never got a chance to get close to her. with ingrid's attention on her, mapi finally found the opportunity to become friends. maybe even more.

only a few weeks of this closeness and it bled into something more. ingrid would be scared of how fast things are going usually, this is how you two's mess of a relationship started, but her therapist has told her to welcome new things. not to run away from the things she wants anymore.

she wants mapi.

ingrid refused to let this new situation stay the way it is. she wanted a relationship, not a messy situationship. since she was the problem in you two's relationship, ingrid decided to be the one to start off on the right foot in this new one.

"can i take you out?" the norwegian asks one day while mapi was cooking some dinner in ingrid's apartment while wearing her pajamas; yeah this had to become something official sooner rather than later. they're already in too deep.

mapi gives her a quick glance over her shoulder, a small smirk on her lips. she just shrugs as she goes back to cooking. "i would love that," mapi says. bringing the freshly cooked food still in the pan over to the table. "i have plates you know" ingrid says playfully as she smiles. mapi rolls her eyes playfully as she turns back to the counter to grab two forks from the drawer. "we don't need them, chica" the spaniard chuckles as she sits down at the table. scooting her chair closer to ingrid's until their legs touch.

the warmth of the first bite was just like the warmth ingrid has been on the receiving end of. mapi is warm like the sun; an overwhelming presence that fills any room it steps in. mapi is ingrid's star and hopefully her only star for the rest of their lives.

the week after is when they decide to go out. it's on a sunday which has officially become their day since the two footballers always hang out on that day especially. spending the whole day together while doing mundane things. however this one was extra special, because they were going out instead of staying in.

ingrid stands in front of the floor length mirror in her living room. checking out the blue silk dress she decided to wear with black heels to match. is too formal? ingrid thinks to herself. she isn't able to dwell more on the topic as a knock at the door interrupts her thoughts.

mapi.

a smile already reaches the norwegian's face as she walks over to her front door. opening it to see a nicely dressed mapi. the spainard put on a black dress, similar to ingrid's. "didn't think we would be matching, bonita," mapi chuckles as she takes in ingrid's look. she looks gorgeous. mapi gets a bit distracting as she checks out ingrid before looking back at the woman's face. "huh? sorry. you're just too beautiful right now," mapi smiles.

"oh? more than usual?" ingrid jokes as she gestures for mapi to come inside. closing the door behind them before walking over to her couch to grab her jacket and purse. "hm of course not. you always look amazing. i just couldn't stop my eyes from wandering, that's all," mapi says as she leans against the door. smiling once ingrid turns back around and smiles back at her.

"let's go, bonita" the spainard says as she grabs ingrid's hand. interlocking it with hers. then they leave out of the door. a burst of giggles leaving them both as ingrid almost trips over her heels.

the rest of the night is full of happiness like that. the two footballers go out for dinner firstly then some ice cream for dessert and a small walk around the streets to end it off.

ingrid smiles at mapi as they stand in front of mapi's car. their date is sadly coming to an end and spending the night together wasn't in the question; can't go too fast. "can i kiss you?" mapi says softly as their hands interlock, swinging slightly. "i don't know, can you, maria?" mapi just laughs at ingrid's words before pulling her into a short kiss.

after savoring the moment, the two pull away from each other. shy smiles sitting on both of their lips. ingrid pecks mapi's cheek before letting go of her hand and running off to go inside her apartment building. mapi just chuckles as she watches ingrid run into the building.

ingrid's still smiling once she gets inside of her apartment. she couldn't believe how well the date went. those fears of possibly fucking up another relationship fade away as she changes out of her dress. kicking off her heels that been hurting her feet since they had ice cream.

as she slips into the shower, darker emotions cloud her mind. why does she suddenly feel guilty? those burning feelings of regret claw at her conscience as the hot water hits her body.

does she deserve to move on? after all the hurt she caused you, did she deserve to be happy with someone else?

the norwegian thinks back on you two's first unofficial date. with you both being too shy to call it an actual date; just calling it a simple hangout. it was a festival happening around this time in barcelona so of course you had to bring ingrid out there. that night was full of laughter and fun with it ending with a sweet kiss done near the beach. ingrid sometimes wonder what would have happened if she would have just asked you to be her girlfriend right after that moment. if she would have let your situation turn into an actual relationship. if she would had gone public with you on her social media months into the situationship like she did with that cover-up. would things be different? would you have been here right now and this night of fun of mapi would have never existed? for some reason ingrid frowns just thinking about that possibility.

in the past, all she wanted was to go back and fix everything so you two could be together in the present. however, now after her date with mapi she didn't want that. would it really have been better? the teenage puppy love feelings that were coursing through her isn't the same as the feelings she felt with you. the fear of being known tainted whatever love that was between you two.

it doesn't matter anymore. let it go. ingrid thinks to herself as she shuts off the water before stepping out of the shower. she looks at herself in the mirror as she dries her hair. she's done. ingrid realizes she has finally done it.

she has fallen out of love with you. out of love with constantly feeling the regret and guilt. ingrid is over you and ready to move onto more things in her life. ones that don't involve overthinking constantly about what she's done to you.

ingrid has forgiven herself.

that was the night ingrid blocked your instagram and deleted your number.

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN, YEAH

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN

AYY

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN

WHAT WE SHOULD'VE BEEN

IF I WASN'T, IF I WASN'T WITH SOMEBODY

IF YOU GOTTA HIDE IT, WHAT'S

THE POINT OF TRYING?

I AIN'T JUST YOUR FRIEND, NO, WHAT'S

THE POINT OF LYING?

TRYA SELL A STORY AIN'T NOBODY BUYIN'

LOOK ME IN MY EYES, DON'T THAT FEEL NICE?

WHY SHOULD IT END? BABY I COULD'VE BEEN

I COULD'VE BEEN HIM, MORE

THAN YOUR FRIEND

JUST SAY WHERE AND WHEN, WHERE

TO MAKE A TRIP

BABY, MAKE A WISH, BE THE ONE I'M WITH

SHOULD'VE BEEN A, SHOULD'VE, COULD'VE,

WOULD HAVE BEEN, AYY

YEAH, I WOULD HAVE BEEN (DAMN)

YEAH, I WOULD HAVE BEEN (YEAH)

DAMN, DAMN (COULD'VE BEEN)

YEAH, WE COULD'VE BEEN (OH NO)

around four months later, after officially getting together with mapi, ingrid decides to face her biggest fear. the one that toppled you two's relationship.

she posts a photo of mapi kissing her on the cheek on her instagram. cutting off her phone the moment it's posted, she may not be scared of having a public lesbian relationship anymore but still she didn't want to look at the comments.

nearly a full year of therapy has changed her into a much better person and girlfriend. the teasing comments from her teammates about them not knowing she was into girls weren't as frightening as she thought they would be. the online discussion about the reveal of mapi and her relationship was more positive than she expected.

oh, it really was just the fear holding her back.

it has been months upon months since ingrid had last seen you and she was fine with keeping it that way. of course she knew eventually you two would see each other somewhere. the women's football world is only so big with most women footballers being around each other at the same events and campaigns. however she didn't think it would be so soon.

she had been invited to an event by puma for their new campaign with puma athletes. it was later on during the event when ingrid spots you. one moment she's eating peacefully on her pasta and the next she's looking up to see your eyes on her.

what..?

she doesn't remember you being a puma athlete. perhaps that partnership happened after she blocked your instagram. god, now all that pasta is about to come up out of her throat. ingrid wants to run and run until this night is just a distant memory, but she doesn't. because ingrid is a different woman now. she doesn't run away from her fears now, she faces them.

the eye contact between you two doesn't last long as you look away. ingrid's throat feels like it's collapsing in on itself as she stands up and heads towards the bathroom.

as the norwegian throws some water on her face before looking up in the mirror. you come into the bathroom, warily standing next to the door as you look at her. "i didn't expect to see you again," you say softly. ingrid gives you a glance before sighing. this was a chance to at least give you an apology.

"y/n, i'm so sorry. for everything. i ruined something that could have been great and i treated you horribly. you didn't deserve that.." ingrid says as she looks at her, trying to see your reaction. you stay silent as you gesture for her to continue. "i was so afraid and needed so much help. i'm sorry it took you being hurt enough to leave for me to get it. i been doing therapy for months now and i am a way better person now," ingrid gives you an apologetic smile, "just know it was all me. never you. everything that happened was never your fault, y/n."

silence fills up the room as she finishes talking. you just blankly stare at her. it unnerves her, but it's okay. she's ready to see whatever reaction you will give.

"i don't forgive you.." are the words that come out of your mouth. ingrid just nods; it's understandable after all she's done to you. "but i'm glad you got help. finally," you say. she can tell you are being genuine with your tone.

the two of you look at each other before you turn and leave the bathroom. ingrid leaves out a bit after. heading back to her table feeling lighter than before.

she didn't get forgiveness, but you acknowledged how much work she has done. that's all she needed.

author notes: LMAOO it took me so long to finish this, but it's done. so basically i made another version of this part where ingrid is a little less sane in the head and also i plan to make a part 3 focused on the reader. which will be the last part (unless i change my mind), so if y'all could vote on what y'all want me to post first please do.

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #norwnt

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beelzeballing · 6 months

Text

actually i dont think ive posted my thoughts on ofmd s2 overall here yet have i?

ok here goes: i think it had incredibly high highs, and at some parts i genuinely enjoyed it more than i did the first season, episode 6 being peak imo. however, it had equally abysmal lows with some glaring writing-, tone- and pacing issues that all came to a head in the finale.

i once read someone say that, if you ever feel like a finale ruined the whole story, maybe you should take another look at the story. there were most likely cracks and problems all along, and the finale did nothing besides dashing the hope that these would perhaps be addressed later. very rarely do genuinely well written stories go completely off the rails in the finale and ruin the whole thing.

i think this is applicable here in some ways, SPECIFICALLY in regards to edward. good god edward was a MESS this season, and it's so sad because i loved the starting point! the kraken era was absolutely terrifying and iconic as FUCK but... they shouldn't have leaned so hard into the drama and trauma of it all. don't get me wrong, i loved that it did. it's one of my favorite parts of the season and i'm so glad we got it. but if they wanted this arc to work with the overarching plot as they wrote it, they would've had to lighten up the tone here CONSIDERABLY. had they played the kraken era for comedy then sure! edward's bad youtuber apology would've been funny. his fast redemption would've been less jarring. the lack of consequences less disturbing. but as it stands in the show, this arc is too dark to function with the later episodes.

i feel like they wanted to have their cake and eat it too here. they wanted the gritty drama of ed coming off the hinges entirely but also didn't want to deal with the aftermath of such a heavy arc in their silly pirate romcom. be that due to time constraints and budget cuts or because they were simply unwilling to, doesn't really matter in the end. the result is the same either way: a very tonally messy season with some accidentally troubling implications regarding abuse.

and mentioning troubling implications regarding abuse; izzy. my poor, poor izzy... his arc was absolutely glorious. i liked izzy the second he showed up in s1 and i was absolutely EATING this season up in that regard. and i think in this case, they genuinely did fuck it all up in the finale with that one stupid choice:

choosing to kill izzy was the DUMBEST thing they couldve done here.

ive talked about this over and over and over again. ive reblogged so many meta posts. and still i am left absolutely flabbergasted by how stupid of a decision this was. the fridging, playing at the fallen woman trope, killing the beating heart of the season and the character who delivers what is essentially a thesis statement, killing off the character whose arc is about coming to terms with his disability, having him die in edward's arms, comforting him and apologizing after an entire season of finding community and love outside of edward, the absolutely godawful pacing of it all, the extremely easy and obvious solution of just having IZZY become the new captain of the revenge to mirror s1 and hammer home how much he has developed since then in one go... i could go on. and i have. it was a stupid writing decision, completely fucked the tone and pacing of the finale and took away attention and time from things that really would've deserved a better wrap up (lucius and black pete deserved better)

now. the whole prince ricky & zheng plot line... yeah that shit sucked ass, sorry. they bit off more than they could chew here. i honestly think those are the arc words of this season:

✨️ bit off more than they could chew ✨️

right off the bat: i think he was good as a concept. bringing in a foil for stede who just doesn't Get It as stede does could've made for very good comedy and drama (and to be fair there is some of that). but that shit got away from them extremely quickly. nothing about how he's implemented past his first episode works, and i think this is very specifically because he's mostly played as the comic relief in his debut episode. making this completely bumbling fool, who gets his nose hacked off on his first job, the main villain of your entire season is... definitely a choice. idk. he didn't work for me at all.

ok wow mentioning shit getting away from the writers. this definitely got away from me. this was supposed to be a short lil post. well. i guess tl;dr i loved this season but jesus christ there was a lot wrong with it. if you want to hear more thoughts. ask box is open. be my guest. i have more to say so even if you dont ask i might add more to this at some point but im tired and have work tmrw.

#i was going to do shit today and now look at me.#0:18 at night #laying in bed #writing this shit #i havent even eaten.#christtttt #moogsin'#ofmd #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd critical #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #the izcourse #im not tagging any of the other characters cuz i shittalk all of them 😭#listen i love edward hes my babygirl but this season did him DIRTY.

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

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The Lonely Hearts Club: Part Two

Summary: Full Story! Breaking up with Andrew Barber is hard to do. You of all people should know, considering you just tried. Now what? Read Part One.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Discussions of Break-ups, Fun with Exes, Jealousy, Andy Being a Menace, Confident Reader, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Expect Additional Future Warnings, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @atkissoflife, @that-one-anxious-mango, and @piscesmermaidprincess. This multi-part fic features a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, and several others. It is also, part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

___

February 15th - 12:25am - Los Angeles, CA

Wow. Just...wow.

You stare down at your phone as you wait for the bartender to bring you your check. While you had initially been prepared for Andy to be upset over your note, as well as your pretty abrupt departure, you certainly hadn't expected this.

If anything, he seemed almost...unbothered. By all of it. Granted, it was sometimes hard to gauge a person's tone via text. But you'd also been in a relationship with the man for the better part of six freaking months! At this point, one could argue that you were practically fluent in Andrew Barber and all of his fucking moods.

The guy was up to something, without a doubt. Which meant that you were now officially on high alert. Because your man - your ex - had never been the type to play fair.

Especially where you were concerned. You should've known that it was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a handwritten letter and a box of artisanal muffins to knock some sense into his stubborn ass.

"Argh! You are such a fucking ogre, Andrew!" You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Why can't you ever make things easy?"

The next time you look up it's to see the bartender returning with your credit card. She goes to hand it over, only for you to interrupt her mid-sentence.

What was her name again? You could've sworn it started with a "D".

"Sorry, I know I said I was ready to close out. But since men are stupid, I think I'm gonna need another margarita. Quite possibly two."

Delta gives you a sympathetic nod before pocketing your card once more. "You got it, sweetie. Still want sugar instead of salt?"

"Yes, please." You mumble, reminding yourself that it was okay to feel annoyed. Because you were. This was supposed to be your time, damn it. You deserved to take some space for yourself!

Even if it meant sitting alone at a hotel bar, missing the one person you loved more than anything, the day after motherfucking Valentine's Day. Cheers, bitches.

___

Two Weeks Later – Somewhere in Downtown Boston

Andrew Barber stares blankly at his computer screen, mindlessly tapping his index finger against his temple as a fresh wave of anger courses through his veins.

He’d been so good the last two weeks. So patient and understanding. He’d given you your space, just like you’d asked. Never intruding with the exception of the text he shot off that night.

Even when he’d come across your latest Instagram post from a few days ago showing off your apparent date with another man. Some pretentious looking fucker who went by Russell Cromwell. You two had looked real cozy while sharing a plate full of Birria tacos. And then you’d posed outside of the restaurant with your arms wrapped around his waist.

But the real kicker had been the last photo in the carousel. The one where you’d kissed him on the cheek – when you’d done the “knee thing” that actresses used to do in those old black and white movies you loved to watch so much.

Oh yeah. The two of you would be having a discussion about that one real soon. His wayward Baby Girl could count on that shit.

Honestly, you had no idea how hard falling back had been for him. It had been a real struggle. Because at his core, Andrew Barber was a man of action. He was well-known for his cunning and mental prowess. This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class, who had then gone on to become the youngest District Attorney in the city of Boston’s history.

And in times of crisis, he was someone you could count on to remain calm and collected while you worked towards a solution. Nothing could shake him, save for the trial and media circus that had briefly surrounded his late son.

After that particular tragedy, Andy had resigned himself to being alone. Forever. He often tried to convince himself that he preferred it that way. Andrew Barber didn’t do love. Not after what happened with his ex-wife, Laurie. He was better off living a life of no commitment.

Even if it meant a lot of lonely nights filled with a seemingly endless revolving door of meaningless one-night stands.

And then he’d met you.

Yes, you.

The woman who had somehow, against all odds, brought magic back into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your very presence – it colored his whole goddamn world. He told you that all of the time, and yet it was almost as if you didn’t believe him.

At first, he was convinced that you were too good to be true. Although he’d been quickly dispelled of that notion when you’d had the balls to walk out on him during your very first date. It’s quite possible that he’d fallen for you right then – because you were the type of woman who knew her worth.

By then, Andy had become convinced that you were a gift from the universe. The way he saw it, after everything he’d been through, he was owed you. You were the woman of his dreams – his very salvation – all wrapped up in a curvy little package. And when you ran that night, it called to the primal part of him that felt compelled to give chase.

Just like now.

But what you had yet to understand was that, once a man like Andrew Barber had deemed you his forever, there was no going back. There was no letting you go. No means of escape.

At most, he’d been granted you a temporary reprieve. You both needed time to assess the situation, survey the damage, and then calculate your next move.

And sweetness, you’d already played your hand when you’d left that little note skipped town under the pretense of taking a fucking business trip.

Fine. Now it was on him. And while you still held most of the cards, that certainly didn’t mean that Andrew Barber was walking around without an ace or two in his back pocket. And you had better believe that he was more than ready to play his own.

But first…he needed some fucking coffee. And lucky for him, he knew just where he could find the perfect cup – shot of chocolate, dash of cinnamon, hold the whip.

___

Forty Minutes Later – Monarch Media Group (20 Minutes Outside Downtown Boston)

You lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. For the life of you, you simply couldn’t seem to focus today. Or any other day for the matter.

Even though it had been almost a week since you’d returned from your trip to L.A., you still felt just as conflicted about things with Andrew Barber as you did before you’d left. And not only that, but you also found yourself feeling on edge about the entire situation.

Because after your brief text exchange the morning of February 15th, he’d left you alone. The most impatient man you’d ever encountered this side of Boston had actually found it within himself to respect your wishes.

No calls. No texts. No emails. Not even so much as a fucking smoke signal.

And while part of you was pleased with that particular development, there was no denying the fact that you missed your Big Man.

You could be woman enough to admit it. You missed the hell out the handsome, grumpy-faced district attorney who, up until recently, had been a major mainstay in your life. But after some serious soul searching and a generous amount of tequila, you’d come to the conclusion that it was important for you to get your mind right before moving forward with anything.

You owed it to yourself to figure out who you were outside of your relationship with Andy – needed it even. Because that man was a force to be reckoned with. He could be so dominant sometimes, his personality so completely all-consuming that it was easy to lose yourself in him.

To allow yourself to become so entirely eclipsed by his brilliant shadow. Which is something that could absolutely happen the moment you stopped paying attention to your own wants, and needs, and desires.

And if that ever were to happen, part of you wondered whether or not you would be able to find your way back. Honestly, you had no idea.

Because after all of this, if you chose to be with him…it would mean that you were all-in. There was no other option with him.

That beautifully stubborn man didn’t have a lower setting.

However, the last thing you’d ever expected was for Mr. Andrew “My Way or the Highway” Barber to go quietly into that good night. Well, suppose you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because if anything he could very well be planning–

Your inner musings are interrupted by Anya, your favorite receptionist at Monarch Media Group. Granted, she was also the only receptionist at the company you’d worked for over the last several years, but that was neither here nor there.

Anya gives you a knowing look before taking a seat on the edge of your desk. “Hi, friend.” She lightly pokes your shoulder. “How ya doin?”

“I’m okay.” You blow out a breath and then decide to exit out of your Outlook. “What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much.” You watch as your friend and coworker helps herself to a piece of chocolate sitting in a nearby dish.

“Okay.”

“I just stopped by to tell you that your coffee has arrived.” She dutifully unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

“What?”

You hadn’t ordered any coffee. You didn’t usually even drink the stuff this late in the day. Unless…

“Yep. And just so happens, it was hand-delivered by the handsomest door-dasher I ever did see.” Anya pokes your shoulder again. “I would’ve accepted it on your behalf, but the guy insists on giving it to you himself. Probably angling for a tip if you ask me.” She throws you a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Andrew “Check Out My Shit Timing” Barber.

“Ugh.” You bury your head in your hands to muffle your cry of frustration. “Can you please just tell him I’m not here?”

“I’m afraid I already let that cat out of the bag. But by the look on your face and the way you’re rocking back and forth like a human pinball, I take it I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No!”

“Did you and Andy like…break up…or something?” Anya pauses as she reaches for another piece of candy, her hand hovering in mid-air.

No, Anya. I always feel like jumping out the nearest window. I’m fucking squirrley like that.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You wail. “It’s just…it’s just really fucking complicated, okay?”

“Gotcha. So…about the coffee…”

“I’m going. I’m going.” You stand up in a huff, wishing you knew where you put the ponytail holder that had been on your wrist just this morning. “But if he pisses me off, I’m dumping that shit on his shoes. Hot or not. I do not care.”

“Okay, but if it comes to that can you please try to do it off company property? I’m all for you handling your business, but I’m also thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do if you accidentally injure one of the city’s hottest attorneys.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you stalk towards the front of the office to confront the annoying asshole who also happened to be the love of your life.

“What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch.” She chirps, blowing you a kiss.

“Your words not mine. And stay the hell out of my chocolate, you mooch!” You call out as you turn the corner, fully intending to give the Boston D.A. a piece of your mind before you politely, and very firmly, shoved him out the door.

Because if that man thought that he could just waltz right into your place of business and act like he owned everything and everyone, then he was sorely mistaken. You were going to prove to him, and whoever the hell’s job it was to oversee this whole godforsaken cosmos, that you knew how to stand your ground.

The sight of him standing right there in the lobby is easily enough to temporarily rob you of all reasonable thought. His back is to you, giving you the brief opportunity to give him a thorough once-over. His tailored white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his brawny forearms. But what really draws your attention are his slate gray slacks, which only serves to highlight his perfectly sculpted backside.

He looked good. Nobody deserved to look that damned good, least of all your ex-boyfriend.

Wait. Is that – is that what he was now? Is…is that how all of this worked? Fuck!

You note the lack of tension in his broad shoulders. All things considered, he seemed pretty relaxed. But the real question was…how long could it be expected to last?

Andy picks that moment to turn around, his bright blue eyes locking with your own as an eager grin slowly spreads its way across his handsome features. You take a steadying breath and choose to ignore it.

“Andrew.” You exhale, trying your best to appear unaffected by his presence. It was a lie, of course. But if you managed to keep this unexpected interaction short and sweet, you just might be able to pull it off. “Wh–what are you doing here?”

“Hi.” He cocks his head to the side as he drinks you in, almost as if he’s amused by your disgruntled demeanor.

“Hello.” You cross your arms over your chest, wishing that you had chosen to wear a different sweater today. Andy loved you in this color, especially because of how it paired with your particular skin tone.

“Happy Wednesday, baby.”

God, he really needed to lose that stupid smile. Otherwise, how on earth were you supposed to maintain your composure?

“Sure.”

“Brought you something.” Andy holds out one of the cups of coffee he’s carrying. “Figured you might be able to use a little pick-me-up.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You tell him with a shake of your head.

“What? Since when?” He rears back before offering up a playful pout. “We always get coffee together on Wednesdays. It’s our thing…our little afternoon delight.” This time you’re treated to a wink.

“Shh!” You hiss, bridging the distance between your bodies to slap a hand across his mouth. “Don’t say that!”

The last thing you needed was someone to overhear that and think you two used to sneak away sometimes in the afternoon to…to well…you know. Some of the people you worked with possessed very vivid imaginations.

And besides, that whole afternoon delight business had only happened once or twice. Okay, quite possibly four and a half times – and then one more after that.

Amusement sparkles in his gaze as he stares you down. And then you feel the faint flick of his tongue brush across your palm. When you don’t react he does it again, this time following it up with an exaggerated groan.

You immediately jerk your hand away as if you’ve just been burned. Knowing that things were only bound to get worse, you snatch one of the coffees before grabbing his arm and dragging him outside and into the unseasonably warm weather.

Thank goodness for small favors.

The smell of spring was definitely in the air these days, but all you can focus on is the sound of Andy’s laughter trailing behind you. Frankly, it’s enough to set your teeth on edge. Even still, he allows you to lead him down the street. At some point there’s a slight shift that results in your relinquishing his arm so that he can lace his fingers through yours.

But you'll allow it if it means that he’ll behave for as long as it takes to make it to your destination. Which just so happens to be an empty bench located at the edge of a nearby park.

To his credit, the attractive buttface at your side doesn’t say anything during your impromptu power walk, but he also doesn’t need to. Because after two long weeks without you, the man was probably venturing into serious touch-starved territory.

You knew it. And so did he. So part of you didn’t see the harm in giving him this one, small thing.

Relief fills you when you finally reach the bench. Of course Andy sits first before pulling you down with him – but thankfully not onto his lap. Although you’re positive that the thought was there.

Eventually he lets go of your hand. Unsure of what else to do, you finally take a sip of your coffee. The rich, slightly bitter flavor of chocolate and mocha bursts onto your tongue, followed immediately by a quick hint of cinnamon.

Mm. A perfect cup.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Andy’s large, lightly calloused hand cups your face – the roughened pad of his thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “It hasn’t been a very fun couple of weeks.”

“I know.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed. Perhaps you were just as starved for affection as he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you miss me?” His tone is gruff, but there’s no mistaking the emotion behind his words. Or the pain in his eyes for that matter.

“I did, Andy.” So much.

“But you still left. Tried to break up with me before hopping on a plane and running off all the way to L.A. to share some chips and queso with good ol’ Rusty.” Your eyes fly open as Andy’s hand drops away. “Or did I read that wrong?”

How the fuck had he known where you where? You hadn’t included anything about your intended destination in your letter…

“I saw it on your Instagram, in case you were wondering. Was actually able to use that stupid account you set up for me after all.” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he narrows his gaze, trying to read your expression. “Couldn’t really get much else, although I enjoyed those pics of you at the beach.”

“It was a work trip.” You remind him, suddenly feeling defensive. “And Russell is an old friend, nothing more.”

“Hm.” Andy quirks an annoyed brow. “Are we talking about the kind of friend who also accompanies you to the beach so you can show off your brand new bikini? Not that I’m complaining any about that gorgeous, sunkissed glow you’ve got going on, princess.”

His big body is certainly tense, but there’s no ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. Almost as if he’s dying to undress you and spend the next several hours checking you for tan lines.

And he would, too. It’s not like it would be the first time.

“I went alone. Russell stayed behind for that one.” You roll your eyes at the sight of his nostrils flaring. “Jesus Christ, dude! I know you may not believe that I’m a big girl, but I am. And if I wanna go hang out at the beach by myself, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Which was exactly what the fuck you’d done. And it had been positively marvelous.

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his palm towards the heavens. “God forgive me for having the sense to worry about my girl, especially since the last time I checked, she still couldn’t swim for shit.”

“Whatever, Andrew. This girl does whatever the hell she wants now, so you had better get used to it.” Your mouth is set in a thin, firm line while you silently dare him to disagree.

“I’m not quite sure how that’s different from any other day with you, but alright.” Andy tries to calm himself by playing with a stray curl that’s fallen free from your bun. “You’re still mine, sweetness. Even when you insist on being a brat. Or did you somehow forget that part?”

You swat at his hand instead of responding, hating that steady feeling of warmth that was currently pooling in your belly.

“Did you?”

You make a show of ignoring him in favor of enjoying what was left of your coffee.

“You know, they say that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, baby girl.” You find yourself resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at the sound of the dark chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “It’s alright, though. Guess I’ll just have to remind you again once we get past this little wall you’re trying to put up between us.”

He gifts you with a flash of his pearly white teeth. Andrew Barber was the type of man who would only let you get away with so much before he put his foot down. And you would do well to remember that.

“Pretty sure you meant to say “actions”, jackass.” Apparently he finds your acerbic wit funny as well.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Andy shrugs before going back to toying with your curls. “But I think you should know that I’m not very happy with you, baby. And I’m trying to be patient here, but it’s kinda difficult when I can’t even get you to talk to me.”

“I was going to call you…” That wasn’t a lie. You had just been trying to drum up the mental fortitude you knew it would take to pick up the phone and actually dial his number. Sometimes, dealing with Andrew Barber could require some serious patience.

“Were you now?” He doesn’t believe you. You can hear it in his voice.

“I was.”

“Okay, then have dinner with me tonight.” He releases your curl, watching the way it bounces as it springs free.

“Andy.” You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Meet me at my place. I’ll swing by Imperial Wok and pick up a few of your favorites so we can eat. And then we can talk in a quiet, private setting without any interruptions. How does that sound, princess?”

“Wonderful.” The word slips out before you can catch it. “But I–I can’t.”

Andrew Barber’s excited smile dies on his lips the moment that phrase reaches his ears and registers in his brain. As much as you hated to admit it, being alone with this man wasn’t a very good idea right now – especially behind closed doors.

Because while you’d never seen the man in court, you’d definitely heard plenty of stories about his ruthlessness. And you knew firsthand just how persistent he could be when he was determined to get his way.

When Andy wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Not only was he relentless, but he also wasn’t above using every tool at his disposal – including sex – if it meant having you back in his life. It wouldn’t matter all that much to him how it came about.

The same way he wouldn’t care if whether or not your desired reconciliation only happened because he’d lured you into his bed before fucking you back into submission.

“The fu–why the hell not?” He growls, his hand grips the arm of the wooden bench so hard his knuckles go white.

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The pronounced tick in his jaw makes it clear that he’s beyond frustrated by your refusal.

Unfortunately, that was too damned bad! By the time this was all said and done, your handsome ogre was going to have mastered the art of having some goddamned patience. At least you hoped that would be the case…

“Both.” You offer your Big Man a small apologetic smile as you rise from your seat. “Let’s plan for sometime next week. Maybe we can shoot for Monday. I’ll, uh, send you a text or something and we can find a place to meet. But I really need to get back to work now.”

Andy stares at you for what feels like a full minute as his impressive brain works overtime to figure out his next move. And then he stands up before taking your empty cup and discarding them both in a nearby trash bin.

“Alright.” He mutters with a nod in your direction. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for your message then. Now, let’s get you back to your office.” A lump forms in your throat when he wraps a muscled arm around your shoulders as you two begin walking back the way you came.

Fuck, you really hated this shit. But if this relationship was ever going to have a chance of working, you had to continue standing your ground. Even though it hurt like hell.

“I, um...I know you said that we probably won’t be able to sit down and talk until next week. And I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from with that, but while I have you now…” He lightly coughs into his elbow.

You glance up at your hotshot attorney, trying to figure out where he was going with this so that you could potentially cut him off at the pass.

“I at least wanted to say “thank you” in person for still agreeing to help Lydia with the charity gala this Saturday. I’m sure that it wasn’t an easy decision for you, especially given how things have been between us lately. But I really do appreciate it. And, frankly, I’m sure the kids at St. Augustine’s do too.”

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reminder of this weekend’s event all-but smacks in the face. “Shit!” You hiss, pulling away from Andy as you reach your building. “It’s this Saturday? Are you sure?”

“I am.” He confirms, his eyes filled with surprise. “I just spoke with Lydia yesterday when I–”

“Fuck!” You exclaim as your hands fly to your hips, uncaring that you just interrupted whatever it was he was about to say.

In all of the chaos, you’d completely forgotten that you had agreed to help the wife of one of Andy’s colleagues with her annual charity ball. Starting by arriving at the hotel early Saturday morning to aid in the event setup, before heading up to your room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

A room that had been booked during a time when you and Andy were on much better terms.

“She did mention that she sent all of the volunteers an email a couple days ago with a list of instructions. Maybe it got buried in your inbox, baby.” He rests his hands on your biceps, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “But she is definitely expecting you and I’m afraid it’s probably too late for you to back out at this point.”

Deep down you knew he was right. And quite honestly, you wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this close to the actual date of the gala. But there was still the issue of having to share a hotel room with your ex.

Closing your eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I–I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that big of an asshole. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a room…” You trail off, hoping that he would at least be somewhat understanding of your current plight.

“Ahh.” You can see the moment when realization finally dawns. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

No, he actually hadn’t. But since Andy didn’t feel as though there was any real need for you to know that, he was going to keep that particular tidbit to himself. Even he was capable of showing some restraint every now and again.

“Like I said…” You find yourself anxiously bouncing on your toes. “I don’t think –”

“I get it, sweetheart.”

Wait. He did? Just like that?

“You do?”

“I do.” His words are accompanied by a lopsided grin.

He didn’t. But then again, you didn’t need to know that either.

Andy’s hands leave your arms so that he can tenderly cup the sides of your face instead. “You just leave it all to me, baby girl. I’ll call the hotel and change the reservations.”

“You will?” You place your smaller hands overtop of his own. “You…you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Andy leans down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “And I promise to be on my best behavior Saturday night.” He gives you another kiss, which you allow. “If you want, I’ll even send over the updated confirmation info.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, wishing that you could give-in just a little more and offer up your lips for a kiss. A real one this time.

But you couldn’t afford to do that. Not even when Mr. Andrew “Give Me A Gold Star For Being Helpful” Barber was acting sweet. That would only throw everything off balance all over again.

Andy’s heated gaze drops to your mouth before he slowly pulls away. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” His husky voice sends one last tiny flutter through your belly.

“Same goes for you.” You tell him as you begin to head into the building.

“Goodbye, baby girl.”

“Goodbye, Andrew. See you Saturday.”

He waits until you’re safely inside and out of sight before turning on his heel and proceeding in the direction of his car. Oh, you’d be seeing him on Saturday alright. And he would be on his best behavior – depending on just how much patience he could muster.

You two would be sorting this shit out then, whether you liked it or not. When it was over, you’d both spend the rest of the weekend making up for lost time. And Andrew was going to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed every fucking second of it. Just like he planned to enjoy getting reacquainted with that delicate sweetness between those luscious thighs. But first…

He needed to go make a call.

END

*Part Three Coming Soon...*

___

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@blueraspberryreader

@openup-yourmind

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txny-dragon · 4 months

Text

i think apollo will stay changed after becoming human

first time making something like this. so uh, yeah, kinda sorta analysis after the cut and a lot of this is based off of this analysis and also the toa discord. yeah. let's get this started

i think that apollo will stay "human" even after regaining godhood because that's the point. it's a story about growth, healing, change, hope, and identity. apollo lost his, not just by being put into lester, but his identity, as apollo the god.

and it isn't just apollo. meg is a big one as well, her arc sort of mirroring apollo, with nero being compared to zeus quite often in the narration. i think another arc that sort of mirrors apollo's is reyna. her arc is centered around identity. she needs to find it outside of the senate. apollo needed to find it outside of olympus. and quite ironically, the roman camp is called camp jupiter. and it was reyna that told apollo something he needed to hear. sure, he could never take back all of the shitty things he has done in the past, but he can still do good.

apollo thought he was the worst of the gods, all because he felt. all because he felt devasted when his loved ones died. all because even after all of that pain, he still loved. that is who he is at his core. someone who loves.

the reason he couldn't change at the start was because that man was in denial. but if you ignore his, i will admit this as someone who loves toa, kinda annoying narration and read just his actions, he is actively putting himself at risk to save percy, meg, his kids. he even knows the names of connor and travis, even knowing their personalities enough to know that they are pranksters. because that's who he is behind all of the glitter and blinding smiles. someone who cares, but can't show it.

how can i talk about apollo's change without mentioning jason. jason, i think, is the push that caused him to decide to change. "remember what it's like to be human." apollo and jason both sacrificed themselves for the team, only difference is that jason's stuck. this was his push. that apollo, as the god, could've helped. and that's was what he was going to do.

and in ton, we meet the troglodytes. they called him lester-apollo. lester was used as an epihet for apollo. this is mentioned in the toa server if this rings a bell. lester is now a part of his identity. it's so deeply engrained.

he may forget the people's faces, but their impact will never leave them.

apollo will stay changed because he wants to change. he wants to take those steps. that's what sets him apart from the olympians, the ones who live by one saying. "gods can't change." they can, they just don't want to. because that would mean, admitting what they did wrong and feeling guilt. apollo already was doing this, clear from the song that he sang in tho. he just needed a push.

but there is still hope. the nod from athena showing comradery. the idk what to call it with hera. apollo's trials didn't just impact him, it impacted all of olympus. for better or worse.

sure, maybe he will relapse, turn back into the selfish god he was. but why would you want to believe that? it's a story about hope. so have some.

#trials of apollo analysis #sort of #trials of apollo #pjo apollo #lester papadopoulos #apollogists #rrverse #reyna avila ramirez arellano #toa analysis #toa #please if you have more thoughts and are more eloquent #please add on #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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I'm so glad you are having fun!

Could we hear something about the bestfriend curtis & ari? <3

thank you bestie and yes ofc !! prepare yourselves, this is basically a whole fic:

ok so i was thinking something like: at first, you were just Nat's best friend, then you got adopted by the whole group, and perhaps developed a little crush on Ari and Curtis (the certified plugs and rugby boys, built like tanks). you've seen them around since you have mutual friends, but you've never spoken more than a sentence or two to them (let's be honest, they're very intimidating). It's Nat's birthday so everyone goes clubbing and what do you know... you're running late so Nat sends Ari and Curtis to pick you up 😳 cue the awkward car ride.

the night ends at Nat's house and oh no, all the beds are taken? That's okay, Ari and Curtis offer to make some room on the tiny futon in the living room. you say, "I don't want you to sleep on the floor," so it's good that they manage to squeeze with you in between. now you're all cozy and snug between two beefy fellas, still drunk and high and trying but failing to pay attention to the movie on the television. you keep rocking your hips and shifting around, unable to forget how they passed you around in the club, kissing you senselessly and grinding against you.

Curtis' hand slips to your thigh, "you just can't sit still, huh?"

You shake your head, whining pathetically into his shoulder. "S-Sorry... I get horny when I'm high." Your body has a mind of its own and rocks into his hand, keeping it snugly against your clothed folds. "Please don't make me stop."

Rough fingers pinch your chin and turn you the other way, Ari's shaded eyes meet yours. "Where do you want my hand, baby?" You don't hesitate to bring his hand to your throat and he smiles, "atta girl. Quit being mean and touch her, Curtis."

so they play with you, Curtis rubs over your panties, telling you to make a big mess for them while Ari experiments with his grip on your neck, and spits into your wide-open drooly mouth. but poor little you, you're too tired !! too sleepy from partying for so long and it catches up to you. they chuckle as you go slack, quiet breaths puffing from your swollen lips. they get you all tucked in and not to be a total whore but... they kiss you goodnight.

You wake up trapped between them, your leg hooked over Curtis' thighs and Ari snug behind you. one thing leads to another and Ari asks if you want to continue, but you have different things in mind: "Can I taste you instead?"

so you kneel between his legs, still a lil drunk/high and mouth against his bulge, "I've never done this before..." you confess, pouting up at him, "can you teach me?"

and he does: "You can lick the tip, just get used to the taste." "T-That's good, yeah, you're doing great, baby." "Spit on it, I like it messy." He groans softly, his hips jerking when your saliva lands on the head before you smear it with your tongue. he wasn't expecting you to ask about his sack, "can I kiss you there too?"

Your nose rubs against his base, "you're s-so big. I love it." He doesn't hold back his moans as you suckle his balls, slobbering all over him, "Know you do—bet you're soaked, huh? Reach a hand down there and tell me how wet you are."

after he cums on your face and you leave to go clean up ("should I brush my teeth?" "Just rinse with water."), he lies back in contentment. "You can stop pretending now. She's gone."

Curtis' eyes shoot open and he grumpily flips around, "you could've tried to be quiet."

"And make her think I wasn't enjoying myself? No thanks."

i also had a few thots about dry-humping, some "better be quiet" fooling around in a washroom, and ofc naughty sexting 🌚

#thought of this while going home from the club #in the presence of family and friends #the sluttyness never rests #best bros ari and curtis #sonny drabbles #ari levinson #curtis everett #ari levinson drabble #curtis everett drabble #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader x curtis everett #curtis everett x reader x ari levinson

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project-sekai-facts · 7 months

Note

Is it me or are the new outfits simpler? Like old ones had a lot of tiny useless details all around, the new ones look "cleaner" in comparison. It's not bad I kinda like it but it definitely feels weird

Before we start I just wanna say that I kinda critically analysed the costume designs instead of you know. just talking about the details. cool here we go

Yeah aside from VBS they all feel so. Plain, I guess? MMJ’s outfits probably the worst instance, imo they felt more same-y than before and I get they’re an idol unit so they were gonna be uniform but there’s something off. It’s the blue, I get that it’s probably a nod to the blue penlights, but using green or their respective image colors would’ve been better I think. You can barely even see Haruka or Shizuku's image colors on the skirts. Honestly I don’t think the accessories are that bad, they’re pretty cute and fit the group, though the costume being so plain outside of them just makes it look like there should be more. the thing is the outfits aren't the same, they have different skirts and shirts like the original it's just the fact that they all have the same color scheme and similar-enough accessories that it makes the differences less noticable. their image colors should've been the primary or secondary color not the tertiary color.

Leo/need I can get being more uniform, it goes with their whole thing, and I liked how there’s still a lot of details to differentiate them and give them personality. Honestly their original color scheme was pretty basic but making their image colors the secondary colors instead of of the primary colors of their outfit? it just wasn't it. honestly it wouldn't be too bad if the grey wasn't such an ugly color it looks really bad. if they'd gone with black or a much darker grey for the blazers it would've looked so much better and made the accents stand out more. also, the lack of accessories... i get they're more "professional and mature" but their outfits are quite boring, especially next to Miku's. If all of them had a big star armband like Honami or even had a bigger star buckle anywhere (like on a belt) it would look a bit nicer.

WxS was an improvement from Leo/need maybe? The outfits are definitely the most detailed so far, and they had a lot of personality. I like that they kept the original theme of character types (Rui being a villain, Nene being a fairy, etc), and it's not hard to tell what role each of them are meant to be (except emu but it wasn't obvious what hers was in the first place). I think Tsukasa's fits his personality quite well; he plays hero roles so he has a prince sort of outfit, he's the leader so he's got the sash, and he usually dresses very smart. it's very plain though, definitely could've done with brighter colors on the accessories, and maybe keeping the belt charm. also the jacket and trousers being the same color without much to separate them and balance it out doesn't look great. emu and nene's are both better, the color palettes are really nice and their outfits aren't plain holy shit. Emu's fits her personality really well - just by looking you can tell she's a fun and positive person. Rui's is probably the one i'd say is best out of the bunch. I know we can't see the front but the asymmetry and use of black in the color palette makes it stand out a lot and really adds something that the others were lacking. it's a very good villain outfit as well.

N25's were simple, but managed to actually pull it off. they didn't feel really plain compared to some of the other units despite actually being pretty plain. their outfits were always dark, and that hasn't changed, but making the colors more murky adds an extra layer to it. the addition of the flower patterns really adds something to take away the plainess of the original outfits, as well as adding relevant symbolism. Mafuyu's especially stands out being the lightest color and being the most ragged. It tells you she's different, she appears bright and perfect at first, but when you look further down, she's damaged. The image colors could've done with being a bit brighter maybe but other than that these are pretty good.

VBS outfits are actually really good. There I said it. They're able to feel cohesive as a group while still managing to reflect the individuality of each members and not be plain. The outfits fit their personal styles really well, Kohane's more girly, An's more cool and mature, Akito's sporty and active and Toya's more smart but still has the street look. Despite their outfits looking totally different, you can tell they're a unit because of the reddish-pink accents on all their outfits and also using white as a unifying color. i know i complained about the white making the other outfits plain but it's far more balanced out here and isn't as in-your-face. it isn't like MMJ and WxS that have white as their main outfit color. With VBS it's just one white item of clothing: Kohane's sweater, An's cargos, Akito's hoodie and Toya's tshirt. it's incorporated in a very natural way and isn't overly prominent. their image colors and other colors are used just as much in the outfits to balance it out. they have the best balance undoubtedly. even the accessories, they aren't big and there's not a whole lot of them, but the outfits already have a lot going on so they don't need to be complex, they're just there to add something extra.

There’s too much white.

#asks #mod talks #sorry

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fanyyy444 · 2 months

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I hate negative, dishonest, fake, unfair, liars, gossipy, closed minded, pessimistic, revengeful people with my whole heart. (Both personally and generally saying)

LITERALLY, it costs nothing to AT LEAST say "thank you" after you get a reading, literally. Don't be so fucking rude and ungrateful.

EVERYONE MUST THANK THE READERS FOR THEIR READINGS AFTER RECEIVING IT, OTHERWISE YOU ARE BEING FUCKING RUDE AND UNGRATEFUL. Keep that ALWAYS in mind and ALWAYS be kind to everyone AND with yourself too.

I tried to help you, I gave you advices and told you comforting words, but still, you kept being so rude, negative, UNGRATEFUL amd revengeful. I understand that you gone through a lot and life may be hard for you right now, BUT YOU DON'T FUCKING COOPERATE, HOW DO YOU WANT THINGS TO IMPROVE IF YOU KEEP DOUBTING AND BLOCKING YOURSELF??? Being so negative??! I was actually very excited to talk to you because I thought we were becoming good friends already, even tho I felt it already, I felt that it wouldn't work because of your negativity. And it's really not the first time I cut cords with you, I hope now it lasts forever, and sadly, I also hope that your life fucking gets better, it's not the first time I'm saying that too.

Most of the readings this person asked me for were negatively about people in her life, she asked if certain people will get their karma 3 or more times actually?? This doesn't fucking matter at all. If someone ever do wrong with another person, THEY WILL GET WHAT THEY DESERVE, you don't need to obsess over that nor ask tarot for clarification, people will get nothing more, nothing less, than what they deserve from what they did to you, whether it was good or not.

Her energy feels so heavy, and yeah, it's in a bad way. I should've done other readings instead of her's, I LITERALLY ABSORBED HER NEGATIVITY, my neck and back started to hurt very much as usual(When it happens) and I also made some wrong decisions a few minutes later😒 Decisions that literally could've turned into a whole drama in my personal life but thankfully the Universe protected me as always. ❤️❤️❤️

My deck even needed a cleanse😔

I really tried to help you, with many ways, but she kept saying she doubts it and stuff. You doubt your own self? Your own power?? Your life is miserable like that because YOU'RE blocking yourself, and you keep affirming negativity in your life. You were always complaining that you don't have friends, the cards said for you to be more open and receptive to people, etc. You said you already are which is obviously a lie, you're always complaining that people don't like you and that you think that too(Of course if you think that way, that way things must be), that you will never get a job again, that you need a damn boyfriend, actually what you only need right now is HEALING, just a damn healing, but as expected, you're blocking yourself from receiving the miracles and you keep focusing on the hard and bad side of your life instead. You need changes? Make them! Nothing (Good) will happen if you just keep complaining about your life and everything.

I can't handle negative and pessimistic people, I just really can't.

She said she didn't called someone x thing, BUT, after I already have done her reading, she revealed that she did tease him a bit and all, it wasn't completely my fault that the reading didn't resonated, tell the truth or tell nothing, lies are definitely not an option here. Tarot NEVER lies, it's a fact. Of course there may be certain reasons why your cards didn't resonated at all, you have to be clear on your question, and fair too, DO NOT TELL LIES, only tell the truth, tell the complete, whole and REAL story.

I really wanted to share this with you all, I actually felt like I would explode if I didn't talked about it here😭😭 Please, always be kind to tarot readers, and treat them like REAL HUMANS, NOT TAROT MACHINES or whatever(Treat them like humans, or vampires, fairies, mermaids, elfs or whatever they are lol..You got what I meant😭 Lol sorryyy, I had to do that joke, I'm too obsessed with magical thingies recently..).

Soo, recapping it lol, treat ALL tarot readers just like the normal humans they are, DO NOT treat them like your personal spiritual-stalking machine and stuff(Again making jokes Stefany??😭😭). And please, PLEASE, tell them thanks for the readings you get(Always, would be best). Remember that tarot requires energy and we can't waste our energy ALL THE TIME and also with certain questions.......

Like, to be honest..There are easier ways to discover if ABC has feelings for you, or anything lol, I'm just giving an (Really bad lol) example. Sometimes the answer or truth is right in front of us but we keep looking at the opposite side, or ignoring it, or not seeing it at all(Stop being blind, this goes especially for the love people here👌🏻), etc etc...

Like yeah, stop being blind or deaf about it, maybe if you pay more attention, just a little bit more🤏🏻 You'll finally get the answer.

Alsoo, be really KIND, don't ask like 100+ questions at once, as I said, tarot requires energy, and we, the readers, sometimes get really drained by doing a lot of readings non stop, and so gets our cards by the way, my babies please don't forget to cleanse your tarot and oracle decks too at least 1-2 times in a week, or sometimes more, depending on how much you used it, etc etc.

And for those who need to hear it, don't underestimate or doubt your power, some days are really hard to deal with but we will survive! Some situations or things may seem impossible, or it may seem like we're gonna really die because it's so hard and overwhelming that we can't handle it, but we can, YOU can! Try your bestest best to not be negative or pessimistic, there is always a solution for a problem, even if you're currently not seeing it, you'll realize it at the right moment. Learn from your mistakes and don't make them ever again. Become stronger and stronger every passing day, DON'T GIVE UP, hear me, don't give up. This won't last forever, I wish y'all a better life, more money for those who need it, more love for those who need it, more peace for those who need❤️ You can do it and you will, you're never alone.

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lunaslovelyrambles · 10 months

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-> this is a sequel to this ficlet i posted a while back bc it's seemingly very popular - even still :)

— • — • —

your eyes haunt him. they have since the moment he got back to marley. whenever reiner has a moment of time to let his mind wander it always brings him back to you.

the pain he caused you, mainly, and that look in your eyes the last time he saw them. so full of hurt. and it was all his fault.

now, he's on the train back from the mid-east war. the constant fighting had worn his body to the bone. the stress of being on the front lines, and as a titan shifter nonetheless, wears him out more than the others.

he remembers back on paradis, before revealing himself as the armored titan, you had told him that he should take it easier.

"we're better when we fight together, after all! it's okay to let some of the others take on some of the burden as well."

he wished he listened to you. he wished he could go back to moments like that. moments where your eyes would light up as you nudged him, joking about stupid things.

but he couldn't. pieck lightly tapped his shoulder, breaking him out of thought.

"hey, we're almost back," she smiled at him, "spacing out, huh? must be thinking of something good if you were that out of it."

yeah, he thought, he was.

-x-

reiner can't think of many moments in his life where he's felt at such a loss for words. in those few moments, however, he thinks this one might take the cake.

you're standing in front of him. you're older, prettier - he didn't think that was even possible - and really here. you're not a figment of his imagination.

he thinks of so many things that he wants to say. he's missed you, he's thought about you every day, he's wanted nothing more than to see you again, you look so beautiful.

none of them come out.

because your eyes are downcast, sad. and only flickering to look at him every few seconds. his heart breaks.

"it's been a while, huh?" you barely even whisper it. still, just hearing your voice makes him shudder. he didn't realize just how much he missed hearing it.

he nods, still staring and still struggling to talk. hell, he can barely even believe this is real. that he's getting a chance to talk to you again, and that you aren't trying to kill him for what he did.

you sigh, tugging at a belt on your gear. he follows your fingers and then falls back onto your eyes, as always.

"look, i don't-"

"i'm sorry."

he finally cuts you off, and it's then that your eyes finally meet his for longer than a second.

"i-i'm so sorry."

it's all he can say. that's all he's wanted to say to you for years now. all he wanted was one chance to apologize to the hurt that he caused you. for making your eyes shine less.

if the only thing he does for the rest of his life is grovel and beg for forgiveness at your feet, he'd be okay with that.

you let out an airy chuckle and it catches him off guard.

"yeah, i know. i'm sorry too."

he can't fathom why on earth you are apologizing. he's done nothing but cause you pain, and you're apologizing to him?

he thinks for certain, now, that you're the opposite of the lies marley fed him about people on paradis. because no devil could ever be as angelic as you are.

and as he gapes at you, awestruck by your words, you smile at him and that light in your eyes returns for the briefest of moments.

-x-

he wakes with a start. years have gone and passed since the battle of earth, yet the nightmares still haunt him. he thinks that they always will, even a little. however, they have gotten better over time.

"good morning," you smile down at him.

well, especially with you by his side.

reiner huffs a response, still too deep in sleep's depths to form words. the sunlight pours in through the open window next to you. he could've sworn he died and went to heaven.

he hasn't. and he thanks every god out there for allowing him to find such peace in this lifetime.

you brush some hair lightly out of his face with your hand, the coolness of the ring on your finger making him sigh. his eyes shut instinctively. it's too bright, too early.

"we have to go meet the others today, don't fall back asleep on me." your voice was so light, so pleasant. he's finding it hard to listen.

his eyes open again and he meets yours for the first time this morning. he's met with that all too familiar gaze.

the one that he saw after he kissed you for the first time. or when he snuck out of the barracks with you all those nights to look at the stars. the look when he asked you to marry him.

his eyes look back with the same feelings, and he feels happiness.

— • — • —

-> masterlist

#are you guys happy i wrote a happy ending for reiner ?? LOL #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x you

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londonspirit · 7 months

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NYCC Rant

I am soo pissed on behalf of our beautiful cast!

I mean, they KNEW they couldn't talk about their amazing show (and mind you, I TOTALLY support the strike, no questions asked!) but whoever thought playing a stupid game for the WHOLE FUCKING HOUR needs to be given a VERY stern talking to!!!

You have six amazing actors on that stage, all with a shitload of life under their belts (sorry, Con *cackles*) - you could've let them talk about ANYTHING, could've asked about basically EVERYTHING, and they could've still adhered to the strike rules and made it a fun panel!!! (Somehow this now feels like the con itself didn't trust that they would actually do this which makes me even more mad!!! They've been on the lines, they KNOW what can and can't go, no matter how badly they WANT to talk about OFMD! GEEZ!)

But you go and have them play a stupid game, where two of them barely understood a thing (and you didn't do jack shit about it), the questions were silly and boring (which Rhys actually pointed about because that man was (rightfully) ANNOYED AS FUCK!) and for those of us at home some answers weren't even readable because the camera person didn't know where to go first.

They all TRIED so hard to play along but it was just sooo embarrassing to watch, and I feel so soo sorry for everyone, the amazing cast on stage and the people in the audience. (Even worse for poor Matt to have his first convention be like THIS!) (Yes, i am VERY mad at the wealthy studio assholes who are not able to see that paying their artists a living wage would benefit EVERYONE *grrrrrr*)

There could've been sooo many other ways to run this panel and sadly they really fucked it up. (Right now watching DT who's just rambling along about pizza and bagels, audio books, his dogs and all the NOT SAG things he'd done, (while adhering to the rules!) which is adorable but also a very good example as to how to do SO MUCH BETTER!!! (but then again, that moderator was PREPARED!)

So yeah, that was a terrible disaster and an utter train wreck, and I can only hope every other con after this (while the strike's still ongoing) does better - for the sake of the cast AND the audience!!! NOBODY deserves this!!! /rant end

Please understand I am NOT mad at ANYONE striking - they are NOT at fault! It's the fucking greedy studio bosses who think they can get away with their sleazy shit!!! But I am sad that the convention people weren't able to come up with something less humiliating for a cast that deserve the fucking WORLD!!!

#personal #nycc 2023 #ofmd #our flag means death #im just soo mad at the con people for making this such a horrible experience for everyone (or most of them from what I can see)#my mood has been terrible all week (aside from Thursday)#and right now I wanna punch people!#i was soo looking forward to this and it was the most insane disaster since that MS/JA/JP Nerd HQ panel way back when #basically ruined my entire day #so yeah

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altschmerzes · 5 months

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☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

OH GOSH YEAH THERE IS it's called 'without grace, without understanding' (thanks wrinkle in time) and it's a reimagining of the training arc with roy and jamie in season 3

this got a little long so it is..... under a cut lsdfkjs.

update: 'a little long' this is basically a fic in itself lmfao WHOOPSIES. i guess i may as well actually tag it, enjoy... whatever this is.

started off with me thinking about the myriad of ways that could've been a fascinating plot to use to explore those two characters' trajectories and their relationship to themselves and each other and this sport. roy's lack of trust in himself and his conviction that he ruins things.

and it's like... thinking about how roy's approach is uh. a bit much sometimes and jamie particularly doesn't necessarily react super well to that and has a tendency to take things the wrong way even when they are well delivered, and thinking about roy's concerns this season about his coaching skills. that he's REALLY worried about being a good coach. and the stuff in season 2, where he was worried he was Ruining Phoebe somehow, just.

and there's the jamie of it all. him trying to hard to be better, to do better, not sure how to make it work. how to make it happen. how to be as good as zava, be better than zava. still trying to deserve the second chance he's been given. still a brat a lot of the time bc he is who he is but also trying so hard to be good. be cooperative. be a team player. Work Hard Enough.

so you get into the actual training of it, right. they're working together one on one, and roy is pushing him. hard. and i looked at that and went. okay this is supposed to be humorous but also what if we took it seriously. what if roy pushed him TOO hard and jamie just let him because he’d do basically whatever roy told him to and thinks he’s supposed to shut up and not whine and Be Good. and this somehow ends up pushing jamie so hard he’s just completely exhausted or hurt somehow and roy is absolutely horrified by this. and is like NOPE i cant do this i shouldn’t be doing this and doesn’t really communicate to jamie why he’s calling it off. he just does it. so jamie thinks he’s done something wrong and roy thinks he’s protecting jamie by (freaking out and) walking away and it’s a MESS they gotta sort out.

somewhere in there there's a thing with roy and the coaches or the diamond dogs as a whole, right. after he's walked away from training jamie one on one and their relationship is extremely strained bc roy is spiralling beyond proportion like Oh Fuck, Oh Gd, I Was Ruining Him, I Was Hurting Him and jamie is like He's Done With Me He Don't Want Fuck-All To Do With Me. so things are... weird. they're not really talking. they're both upset and hating it. but roy sort of. he doesn't stop coaching jamie again at all, but he does sort of. he pulls back. he goes stiff and distant and doesn't engage. he doesn't ice him out like in s2 but he's not. there. either.

and so they're talking and he's like. (in his mind the training is like. paused. they're Taking A Break.) but he's like. i need to talk to you about jamie. and the others are like... yeah, sure seems like it! and roy just admits. i don’t know how to train him. what i know how to do isn’t working. what worked on me isn’t working (ted/beard/someone voice maybe it perhaps Didn’t Work On You in a good way, but-) so What Do I Do.

which gives ted the opportunity to pay it forward with some advice and just - positive reinforcement. maybe try approaching this differently. he’s destroying himself trying to make you happy, make you proud, do good in your eyes. he idolizes you, not sure how AWARE of that you are, but he does. still. maybe try using that - tell him what he’s doing right.

(and that's the fuck of it all right is like. there's this part of roy that's been wondering if he's a bad coach for the opposite reason, too. he's been wondering if he's been too soft on jamie, and maybe that was the problem. it was something that was gnawing at him, before jamie worked himself sick/hurt and he realized his approach was massively backfiring, that like... maybe he was a bad coach because he couldn't be harsh enough. but he couldn't just. he couldn't stomach being like the coaches he'd had, he just couldn't do it. and then that happened, and obviously that wasn't it, but it was in there somewhere)

but so he talks a bit about that there, like, it comes up somehow - the coaches he had when he was young. when he was a kid and when he was coming up. he talks about how he was trained and they’re like right okay sure and how do you feel about those coaches now? how did they make you feel about yourself? is that how you want jamie to feel about you? is that how you want to know he feels when you talk to him?

he doesn't. he doesn't want jamie to feel like that about him, to feel like that when looking at him. because roy respected those coaches and wanted them to be impressed with him but he was afraid of them too. and he never thought for a minute that he ever lived up to their expectations. and fuck, gd, he never, ever wants that for jamie.

and that's the point ted and beard and company sort of gently make to him too like.

and so it's like. he trusts you. he looks up to you. he'd do anything you asked him to. that's good, that helps, but it means you gotta be careful too, y'know?

so he has to figure out a new approach. and it's like. roy doesn't need a personality transplant, don't get me wrong. he's never gonna be ted and he doesn't need to be. that's not the goal here. it's about figuring out how to be tough without being mean, right? and maybe a little about figuring out how to let himself soften.

(especially since half the time it’s his own younger self he’s hollering at imo. and so treating jamie better sort of asks him to realize he should’ve been treated better too. Be Kinder To Him And In Doing So Give Your Own 24 Year Old Self Some Gentleness And Grace.)

so roy offers to resume training with him after some other stuff happens etc, this is the part i have less thought through lmao.

(there's a subplot also with isaac and captain stuff and figuring out there's something up with jamie and not knowing what and trying to piece it together. love that too.)

and there's a scene in the end, right, where we get this whole... they've sorted things out, they're resuming training again, roy has extracted a promise from jamie to Speak The Fuck Up if things aren't going well, and he's promised to be less of a hardass generally, and then there's a bit where he like. apologizes for ever having been that hard on jamie in the first place and not thinking about whether that was the right approach.

and jamie just... he shrugs. he's not affected by this. "gotta make sure i don’t go soft, yeah?" and roy is like. no. absolutely not. stop right there.

which is when roy then makes the very specific point that like. when they talk about jamie’s performance on the pitch and how he should approach it sometimes he needs to be a prick, and he needs to worry about being permissive or passive or whatever else, but even if they have to bust out a thesaurus they will not be referring to him as soft. we will not be using that language here. do you understand me?

which... jamie. doesn't, really. he's like ??? and tries to brush it off at first like pshh that’s just the same thing “don’t want to be noncommittal or passive on the pitch ain’t that just the same thing as soft just more letters” and roy is like no. no it’s not. there’s implications in- in calling someone soft that there ain’t in there, and even if it is, so what. that’s a word that’s been used to hurt you. right? and jamie’s just kinda sullenly silent and roy goes right. which is why im not fucking using it. that’s the fucking point im trying to make here. if i can help it im not gonna fucking hurt you because i really don’t want to.

which y'know. is a lot. it's a lot for both of them. but they figure it out.

i’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while tbh but keep being like no that’s excessive- that’s dramatic- whatever this arc is gonna turn into it doesn’t NEED to turn into an angsty character/dynamic study- but honestly who cares. why not have fun with it. why not get into some of the vast unexplored potential here. maybe one day i will.

#gav gab #gav answers #ask box games #MAY TRY TO WRITE THIS ONE DAY STILL IDK #jamie tartt #roy kent #abuse implied

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