#GOD HE NEEDS SO MUCH GODDAMN THERAPY

[holycrimin]

Lloyd's entire life is just fucked up from start to finish

You're telling me this sad lil loser who wants to be just like his dad got abandoned by his mom at a school made for evil people??

And to add insult to injury HE GO KICKED OUT??? BECAUSE HE WASN'T EVIL ENOUGH?? And then released an ancient tomb full of man-like snakes??????

And then he finds out he's the green ninja, cool cool cool, right? WRONG. THEN HE FINDS OUT HE PRACTICALLY HAS TO KILL HIS DAD TO SAVE THE WORLD.

AND EVEN AFTER THEY AVOID THAT CATASTROPHE, AND THEY FINALLY TURN HIM GOOD, YK WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?? HE DIES. AGAIN.

AND THAT'S NOT EVEN COUNTING THE TRAUMATIC BULLSHIT THAT WAS HIM AGING UP LIKE 4-5 YEARS. AND NOT COUNTING HIM BEING BACKSTABBED AND BETRAYED BY HIS "FIRST LOVE" AND OH, SO MUCH MORE.

GIVE HIM A BREAK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[grimdarling69]

Another deaged Dan and ellie or otherwise known as Crack.

Pt1 pt2 pt3. pt4

Jason was out patrolling Crime Alley when Clark called him freaking out.

Clark was currently in the doghouse with most of the bats and his sons. While most of it wasn't really his fault his family wasn't really the letting go type. He would know.

"What the hell do you want." He grimaced, that came out a lot rougher than he intended but sue him his brother had been missing for a week and they still were no were closer to finding him.

"Jason! How can you tell which rich men are predators?" What the hell.

"Get here now."

Which is how he came to be sitting across from a crisscross apple sauced Superman in his nearest safe house nursing a beer.

"I overheard something today at work." Kill him now. He was about to pull out a cyanide pill if this fucker didn't stop beating around the goddamn bush.

"What don't you overhear." He took another swing of his beer. He'd need plenty of it if Clark was gong to pester him for some fucking story while his brother was out there who knows where with God knows who, doing fucking anything. He could feel the green starting to rise and he did his best to push it back down but his vision was still tinged. It was happening a lot more often lately.

"Lex Luthor is apparently a sex trafficker." Atleast he was no longer beating around the bush but what the fuck? He knows the top suspect is Luthor and he's going to make a fucking joke about that. This was so not funny.

" I don't know what your playing at but you better explain yourself before I put a kryptonite bullet in your head." This fucker was going to singlehandedly destroy all his hardwork in therapy.

" One of my coworker's moms works at lexcorp, she called him today talking about the fact lex had two sick kids hanging around but disappeared and that a new one apparently showed up sick as well, last week." That got his attention.

"I also overheard her say he was experimenting on all of them and that the newest one spent time in Luthors own bedroom." He was going to cut Lexs dick off and shove it so far down his throat it was going to come out the other end. The green was suffocating.

"You think it's Damian."

"Who else? But the other kids I'm not sure." The other kids could have been surrogates for Damian but he was missing something. Kids because Lex has now kidnapped two other kids and experimented on them. And was probably hurting or experimenting on Damian in all kinds of ways he didn't even want to think about. The green spiking and flooding his senses, urging him to put down down anything that hurt his baby brother his...fraid? What the hell? He shook that thought off, that's never happened before. The green never allowed him to have such clear and borderline strange thoughts before.

"We need to go to the batcave." Shoving his helmet on, not even waiting for Clark's response, he'd beat him their anyway.

‐------------

Jon was sat perched on the rocks high in the cave, listening for even a hint of wherever Damian had gone. His dad who he was absolutely pissed at bad arrived and asked everyone to to 'please listen to whatever he and Jason have to say before you interupt'. Which led to a lot of shouting and arguing he was ignoring. He already knew what it was about he had been straining listening to every single person mentioning lex luthor.

He couldn't imagine Damian in that position. It wasn't that he didn't understand it could happen to anyone it was just disbelief that it could happen to... his best friend, who he's had a crush on for years. He obviously knew that no one was infallible, much less Damian, but he couldn't help think it. Damian always seemed untouchable.

Eventually, everybody quieted down again and went back to their own things. The quiet was unwelcome. He'd been having strange dreams since before he heard of Damian's disappearance.

They always started out normal enough. He was walking in a park that seemed familiar, but he knows for a fact he's never been to. After a while, he comes to a picnic table with various snacks and drinks thrown around in smaller piles like they were transfered from someone's arms to quickly care.

A boy with bright orange hair, covered in freckles everywhere, he can see wearing a basketball jersey attempting to twirl a ball on one finger, his hands are covered in colorful markers, both drawing snd wikd splotches. He instinctively recognizes him as 'Wes' even though he has no clue who he is. 'Wes' briefly tries to wave at him but loses his grip on his ball and has to chase it down the hill, cursing all the way. When he turned the back of his legs, have punctured, looking scars on them like something grabbed him and dragged him around, seering fangs into his flesh.

Another boy 'Tuck' is typing madly at what he can recognize as a PDA even though he's only seen them on old TV. He's placed in the center surrounded by tools most on his left and right side like he picked them up and threw them back down too quickly to care. His hands have several scars, but his left arm is the worst, 3rd degree burns healed, but still looked painful. His tongue is sticking out the side of his mouth, and he keeps pushing his dreads underneath a red beanie, but before his hands even touches his device, they've already slid back out.

There's two other girls side by side, one shooting airplanes and attempting to get the other to 'play with her'. One 'Val' his mind supplies somehow, has darker skin, and wears a typical y2k outfit complete with a flip-phone she secured on her body with a yellow ribbon. Her face has a huge jagged scar running from the side, almost touching her mouth as if her head slammed on something sharp, then dragged downward purposefully and other smaller scars on everywhere else. She looks straight out of one of his mom's old photo books rather than a 2000s fashion enthusiast. She smirks at him and waves her finger at him in a 'come hither' kinda way.

The other girl 'ellie', wear more baggy clothes, the knees are torn and darker from wear and tear rather than on purpose like what he himself has worn. From the little skin she shows he can see both bruising new and old with quite a few 'narley' looking scars. She sees him and waves, smiling brightly, she grabs one of the paper airplane and throws it into the sky. 'Ellie' then waves her hands around in a motion that looks like it was practiced for more effects than practical. Wind billows past her making the paper go soaring for a brief minute before it self-destructive under the stress of the wind. She pouts and stomps her foot before grabbing another one and trying again.

He continues past her and sits near 'val'. Val grabs his shoulders and snaps a phota on her phone. "Say cheese," she says through her teeth, smiling joyfully. For some reason, he obeys her command and smiles softly at the camera. He feels happy and peaceful. Val shoves the phone in his hand for him to inspect, but something is wrong.

He-she has dark black hair that seems to have a purple hue to it. Her makeup is dark and shadowed, and her clothes are shorter than he's ever worn before. They look sewn together cruedly but with an attention to detail he often lacks. She has quite a few scars ranging from scrapes to jagged cuts. Somehow, the girl holds a peace sign up, and he can see her claw like nails. The black paint was patchy in places, making him able to tell those were real nails, not just fake acrylics.

He looks down, and he sees her. Before he starts to spiral,'Danny' calls out. "Sam! There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you!" 'Danny' has even worse scarring than anyone else the way he leans over him he can see inside his shirt, a large autopsy scar is healed rough and jagged edges make it known he fought the whole time. He has litchenberg type figures from his right hands palm all the way up to his throat. Weren't they supposed to fade? He knows logically that he can't be Damian, but he also just feels like he is, like he's just like Jon's best friend, like he's known him forever and loves him. 'Danny' appearance then starts to shift from looking even more like Damian his eyes and face stay carefree, but his harsh scarring looks even more profound against his darker skin. 'Damian's' head comes to rest on his shoulder and he feels 'Sam' start to lean down and kiss him, but as soon as they lock eyes the dream is over leaving him in a panting mess, trying to catch his breath.

He's had that exact same dream for a week now with no change. All ending in the exact same spot. He wasn't sure who to talk to about it. It felt important, but what if it's just a dream?

"Jon? Hanging in there?" Kon floated up, he staying in the air probably in case he reacted negatively. He hates how they treat him like a ticking time boom, Damian never treats him like that. Come on, just say it. He's your brother.

"I just...miss him." he buried his head in his hands like the coward he was. Kon floated closer until he was landing right next him, bumping his shoulder.

"I know Jon, I get it." No you really don't. Cause i don't let you.

-----------

"So there is a boy you like?" Vlad pestered him rubbing his back.

"I never said it was a boy." He snarked before throwing up his entire stomach up in the toilet.

"Please Damian, I went to school with your father. Both of them now actually." He said matter a factually.

"Gay." He said in between hurling. Finally after not immediately throwing up as soon as he even moves slightly Vlad places a water bottle in his hands.

"Thank you." He mumbles, mind your manners young master.

Vlad was nice and all sometimes, but he missed his family. Pennyworths chiding, Richard's easy smiles and praises, Father's lessons. He missed it all.

Vlad really wasn't the best at emotions or parenting really. He... cared for him but he was more that fun uncle you realize was really just crazy. Not he'd ever tell Vlad that.

"Let's go back to work."

"Are you sure? We can take a longer break?"

"We both know we can't afford it."

Things weren't going all that well. They had realized fairly quickly that the incubation was going to follow a real pregnancy timeline if not a little shorter up to the birth where they will just faze out when their ready. Vlad theorized it was a protective measure his body was doing to make the pregnancy less ghostly. He couldn't handle even a half-ghostly anything. The flight to the island drained him of all of the ectoplasm he was able to accumulate over the years despite the corruption.

Due to the corruptedness of the pits he was basically severely ecto-deprived and any ecto he gains goes to the two extra cores or fixing the corruption. He can't even make any ectoplasm anymore because of the corruption stopping it. He needs to get to the Infinate Realms as soon as possible or else neither him or his kids will continue to exist. Vlad was also weaker using his own ectoplasm to power things because the purified ecto was so much weaker than just natural.

The ectopods give him a boost but he was getting worse. The ectopods had failed Dan and Ellie to.

Vlad was starting to get a little protective and by a little he means not wanting to let him out of sight at all. Barely for a bathroom break. Ancients forbid he takes more than five minutes and Vlad pulls a sledgehammer out.

He may or not be going a little stir crazy. It was agonizing he's not used to dealing with this much attention. His parents in his first life were mostly focused on the portal or their work in general until they suddenly realized they had kids then showered them with affection just to forget about them just as quickly. The league of assassins and his mother don't need any explanation really, between training there wasn't much time for affection his mother sometimes did but it was always behind closed doors when noone was watching at all and that didn't happen near as much as you would think. His father wasn't really affectionate on anything, the most he would get for a mission gone right was a pat on the back and a "good job chum" and it often felt more forced with him than the others. Richard was quite affectionate with both his words and his actions. Getting a passing grade or winning a fight or even losing a fight seemed to be a cause of celebration. He was physical with his affection, hugs and kisses on the forehead, but even the second he started feeling uncomfortable he would pull away. Sometimes it was nice sometime he just wished he would push just a little further.

Vlad didn't have any of that. He was all antagonistic words, he didn't even always seem to mean it, it just happened with him. His attention nice for a while but got tiring and he couldn't just ask him to leave him alone because Vlad would take it wrong. He also never knew when to leave him alone. Like he didn't need to sleep in his room just cause he was having headaches and occasional nosebleeds he had that plenty with concussions before and had been able to treat it since he was 4 years old. He thinks if Vlad says one word more on 'taking a break' or 'drinking some more water' he was going to punch him in the face.

"You dont need to push yourself! you'll only end up in more pain just take a five minute break? Please think of the kids I'm also there father to you know!" There it is.

Damian while around and punched him in the face. The force and the surprise knocking him onto the floor.

"Damian! What the hell is your problem, young man!" He attempted to get up but he didn't let him. He easily swept his feet from under him and pushed him back down.

"I'm sick and tired of you always thinking you know what's best for me! Well news flash. You don't." He punched him in the face, expertly evading Vlads dodging. Vlad was powerful with powers but without them he was much more skilled.

"Stop this right now!" He'd have to make him.

And make him he did. Shit. He overestimated just how much ecto Vlad had been giving him because he stopped holding back his strength and shoved him off.

Crack.

Shit Vlad definitely either broke or cracked one of his ribs. He must of really pissed him off because that didn't stop him. He ran at him and kicked him in the throat. He gasped for air.

"Are we done yet?" Fuck you. He grabbed his legs and pulled him down. Almost straddling him and started to beat his face in. Vlad spit out blood but started to heal quicker than he could hurt him. Switching their positions he stsrted to choke him out. He choked for air but remembering his training, he quickly administerd a move that would have taken down any regular human down.

Vlad quickly recovered even angrier and threw him roughly at the glass of the lab shattering it and landing in it. He could feel the glass prickling against his skin. Bloody streaks painting his hands, glass embedded. He tried getting up but heard a loud gasp.

Susan stood hand over her mouth. Her skin pale and her hand gripped her tablet so hard he could hear creaks. He laid his head back down. He suddenly didn't feel like fighting anymore.

"Take him to the physician." Vlad spoke, voice distant and echoey. He couldn't resist the pull of darkness and fell under.

--------

After Clark shared his findings with the cave a month ago, Tim and Barbara have been hard at work trying to track the call, but meeting dead ends all around. Lex's security to tight and better than ever before.

Until, a new call came through.

"David! Oh David it's horrible!" She cried, her sobbing evident even through the poor phone service. They quickly got to work, everyone joining in around them. It had a two months since the last time they saw their littlest bat. No way where they letting the opportunity slip through their hands again.

"That little boy! He threw him through a window! He's been in and out of emergency surgeries for a week. A week! He had a punctured lung, an almost crushed larynx, a broken collarbone, and five cracked or broken ribs. Not to mention, he's covered in bruises and srapes from the glass! It's terrible! That little boy, just laying on the operating table, his heart stopped twice. Twice! Oh, David! I don't know what to do." She was in hysterics. Oh god, that was his brother. His baby brother.

He ignored the broken sobs around him and pushed his down.

"I've got it." Barbara announced, hse didn't sound relieved in any way but he understood they still had to save him and from what they heard from her, he may never fully recover.

"Supers, fly ahead, scout out. This is Lex, he's bound to have plenty of kryptonite." The supers flew out without even acknowledgeing their orders.

He paused. Please don't say it. Please

"Evrybody else... to the batjet."

It didn't really matter what he said anyway everybody in the cave was ready to go war, with or without Bruce.

A/N if yall think for one second that a relationship built from the ashes of one of the most traumatic moments in their lives is going to be perfect, yall kidding yourselves. Vlad is never going to be perfect he and damian/Danny will always be archenemys who may or may not have some fluffy moments they'll still have met because he wat trying to kill his father so he could marry his mother. Vlad desperately wanting him to be son is so obsessive and insane he creates a clone of him to be his kid. They may care for each other, but vlad will never truly be a good choice for Danny in general.

[slayfics]

ive been thinking about a comfort story but instead of katsuki comforting the reader, she comforts him after a long day or struggling with something ❤️

You comfort Katsuki.

1k words

You prepared for an angry Katsuki to burst through the door any moment now. The new hero rankings had come out this afternoon and he had dropped rank, again.

It didn’t take much for you to imagine why. The week before the rankings Katsuki got rushed by reporters. Fresh out of a fight with a villain, adrenaline pumping, they spat out questions pushing for answers.

All the questions they knew would push The Great Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamite’s buttons.

“Dynamite, did you know it was the anniversary of the day you were attacked by the sludge villain?”

“Dynamite, how does it feel being behind Endeavor’s son in the hero charts?”

“Dynamite, can you make a statement about the damage you did to the city in your last fight?”

The list of draining questions went on, all captured on video, as Katsuki quickly lost his cool. Blurting out some colorful words for the reports to, not so politely fuck off.

You heard the keys in the latch and braced yourself for the sight of the angry blond. Yet, such a sight never came, instead, you met with a sight that was much more concerning.

Slumped shoulders, flat affect, vacant gaze. Katsuki sat on the couch silently working at taking off his boots. Not a word spoken to you. No sign of anger.

“Hey,” you greeted, testing the waters with him.

“Hey,” he mumbled without looking up as he tossed his boots aside. Head leaned back against the couch he closed his eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

Katsuki inhaled sharply and shook his head no without opening his eyes. It was unusual to see him so defeated. Typical fiery ambition completely extinguished, lacking the energy to even be upset, he just sat.

You knew all too well how to extinguish the burning rage inside him, but this? This was new ground.

Your momentary paralysis gave Katsuki exactly what he needed. Space and quiet to just be. Slowly he opened up.

"You think it's because of how I responded to those damn reporters?" He asked.

"Possibly," you hummed. "You're human though Katsuki, all those pestering questions would have got under anyone's skin.

"Yeah but," he sighed before continuing. "You saw all the articles and viral edits. They didn't show the whole video, just the part of me losing my shit. A big majority of people think I blew up at some civilian reporters for no fucking reason," Katsuki huffed. "I don't give a damn about that though; people can think whatever the fuck they want... I'm I don't know," Katsuki paused and you gave him the air to finish processing his thought. "I'm fucking disappointed. All that damn therapy I went through- to still get so pissed at some dumb reporters, I should be way past that now. I'm still losing my temper like a goddamn child," he groaned, the displeasure in his voice weighing heavy.

"Katsuki," you cooed and moved closer to him bringing him into an embrace. Katsuki didn't fight you he welcomed your affection, finding solace from leaning into you. Head resting on your chest you combed your fingers through his hair. "Success isn't linear, and one mistake doesn't erase everything you've accomplished and worked for. It's a minor setback. It's tough but, it's nothing you can't come back on top of," you comforted him squeezing him with one arm and messaging his scalp with the other. Katsuki hummed into your chest taking in your words. You always knew what to say.

"I just fucking hate that I gave those reporters exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to blow up, gives them a good damn news story. Fucking vultures," he scowled.

"Mhm," you nodded. "You did, and you can't change that, but you can change how you're going to react moving forward because we know they aren't going to stop. Especially now that they've seen the effect they've had," you spoke problem-solving with him.

"Tch- yeah. I don't know what the fuck to do though. Walking away has been my go-to when I feel myself about to explode, but- in situations like that I'm rushed and cornered. Can't let out an explosion to fly away either because I'll hurt the fuckers. What's worse is I'm still workin' and trying to get back to the cops and agency to report what the fuck happened with the villain," he replied.

"Maybe you could say that... I'm working please move... or I'm working and cannot accept questions...," You suggested.

"Ha- I don't know about the please but... that's not such a bad idea... I'm goddamn working can't talk idiots," Katsuki huffed then relaxed more into your chest.

You giggled, "That does sound more authentic to Dynamite."

Katsuki nuzzled into your chest, his breaths becoming deeper, and the tension in his shoulders he had been carrying around all day finally easing up. "I shoulda called you right when I found out," he murmured.

"You know I'm always here whenever you're ready to talk... about anything," you answered. "I'm sorry I didn't call right away... sometimes I'm not sure when you need your space to process."

"You ain't got to apologize... I know my temperament isn't the easiest to read," he noted.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," you teased, pulling him up to press a kiss on his nose.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "Cut that cheesy crap out," he complained the tips of his ears burning hot. "Besides, I still got dirt and shit all over me."

"I don't care," you remarked, giving him another kiss on his cheek.

Katsuki shifted in one swift motion pinning you down on the couch, "I said cut it out brat," he smirked, taking in the sight of you beneath him. "Why don't you come get cleaned up with me instead," he offered.

An offer you happily accepted.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69

[sunny-speaks]

Smartass

Characters: Academic Rival! Ren @14dayswithyou x reader

Okay, but I have been an academic rivals to lovers stan for far too long, y’all don’t understand…

So like, this au would totally have redacted still the same as Canon! Redacted, he’d just be like… more open to the MC? And it’d be in an academic setting??? Like he developed some self-esteem solutions and got more confident in being himself, still having subtle mannerisms of character traits you enjoyed… but more him

Like… he went to therapy so he could be better for you before you even knew him, cause you said some bullshit like they were no good looking guys in the world who didn’t have therapy, cause there’s nothing hotter than a mentally stable guy. (i mean, you’re all here because you love a stable guy, right… ;] )

But yeah, now you just know him as that snarky ass, dark-haired with pink tips ‘genius’ in your university ‘psychology in modern media’ class.

Warnings and whatnot: lolol NSFW implications so minors DNI, a decent amount of swearing on my part, I'd say?

Another flawless assignment completed for you. Whoo! It was a nice day to be smart!

To be fair, you had pored over that goddamn presentation for hours before going to sleep, so if you hadn’t done well, you probably would’ve bust a pipe over some unlucky guy’s head.

You grinned seeing the big 95 on your paper. You spent so long detailing the moral complications between the character relationships as you gutted the root problems for each of the character flaws and how that showed in their bonds with others.

Unfortunately, you had the (dis)pleasure of being seated to [REDACTED], the class self-proclaimed genius. 

God, you hated him.

You were pretty sure you hated him more because he was so stupidly hot. You could clearly see his chiseled stone abs when he wore those clingy, black compression shirts! And paired with gray fucking sweatpants?

He knew what he was doing… And it was to mess up your game!

I mean, seriously, what was the lecturer doing, seating you next to this second coming of Michelangelo?! It’s almost like she had something personal against you!

(the lecturer was in fact, very for the both of you getting together. You both were smart, maybe you’d find a way to increase [REDACTED]’s grades…)

You never noticed him all that much in the beginning of the year. He brooded in his own corner, never noticed by anyone in those dumb black baggy hoodies.

But the minute he sat next to you, all of a sudden he realized he was hot stuff???

Okay, sure there, bro. He needed to chill out.

All of a sudden, he went from a lonely loser, to some hot genius within like the span of a day.

You didn’t get it.

But to be fair, you didn’t remember telling your good friend Moth how you started having things for hot but smart guys and guys who could actually stand a battle of wits… But that was for [REDACTED] to remember, and you to forget.

He leaned over your shoulder, a lazy smirk gracing his features. “95, not bad, angel.”

Agh! That stupid nickname! It was supposed to be something intimate, something reserved for lovers and such, but he insisted on using it to berate your grades!

He slid his paper over with a big 96 on it. “But not good enough.”

Of course. He had to have known that he was doing an in depth character analysis on the teachers favorite character and played to all the teachers preferences in the character and was spouting self-servient bullshit!

…But his presentation was well done, you had to admit. Normal people wouldn’t notice because you pay an unhealthy amount to any flaws in his looks, but he must’ve studied hard, he had huge eyebags during his presentation…

How would you know it’s because he thought your frustrated face was so cute when you kept thinking of ideas for your presentation that he completely forgot he had to impress the teacher to impress you?

Honestly, [REDACTED] cared more that he was on your mind in any way, even if that was because he acted like a ‘suck-up’ because he was too busy watching you.

“Hope you haven’t forgotten the many times I’ve beaten you academically, [REDACTED]. Or are you losing your memory because you’ve been sitting with a godsend this whole time? Sorry, didn’t mean for my heavenly powers to warp with your memory.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“Then, you’re sure living up to your title, angel.” He snorted and went back to looking towards the front before muttering something under his breath. “...But your presentation was good, dork.”

In shock at the compliment, you stood there with your mouth open.

He glanced back over at you, “What? Is it so hard to believe that you did well on our midterm presentation?” he huffed to himself in disbelief before a grin made its way to his face. “Sitting there with your mouth open? It’s like you want someone to kiss that dumb look off your face.”

He thought the comment would shake you out of your stupor, make you come back with a feisty comment.

But no, you sat there, thinking about all the implications of that statement. …What if he kissed you? But he has so many piercings… He has a tongue piercing, snakebites, honestly, your mouth would feel like a jewelry store with the amount of silver in it…

But he looked like a fuckboy, would he be good at kissing?

Wait, hold up, no, no, no. Dude, you gotta remember…

He was a loser up until now.

If that’s the way he’d been his whole life, he’s probably never even kis—

And if that realization wasn’t enough for you to drop your jaw, nothing ever would.

[REDACTED] could only stare at you in mild surprise as your mouth opened… even more. He slowly blinked at you, a mock-scandalized look on his face, “What, you really want someone to kiss you that bad? You volunteering to be kissed, angel?”

You immediately let go all thoughts of kissing that gorgeous jerk in favor of heat rising to your face, “Nope. I’m good.”

He pushed and prodded a little more, “What, you never kissed anyone before?” He actually wasn’t quite sure. The early years when he didn’t know how to hack anything and couldn’t follow you were blank spaces in your life to him.

You muttered a curse under your breath and turned away from him without denying his question.

Although you couldn’t see it, his whole face lit up with hope. Oh, he was going to be your first kiss! He couldn’t wait! He internallly coughed at his eagerness.

He had to court you first before the two of you could become anything.

He looked back at your lecturer who had been picking on students who had to read out full paragraphs of their analysis on a TV Show that followed the messy plot of a coming of age, romance drama.

And also, clearly, leaving the two of you alone. He hushedly whispered to you, “Wait, are you serious, angel?”

You grumbled into the palm of your hand before slowly turning to him, “unfortunately… yes. I haven’t kissed anyone yet. But turns out this university is full of jerks and dumbasses…”

You paused. Well, maybe not all jerks and dumbasses. “Guess there’s a couple guys in the music department that are cool.”

Murder flashed through [REDACTED]’s mind thinking of you asking them out before putting on a strained smile, “So where do I fit in, hm?”

“I dunno…” You hadn’t put too much thought towards [REDACTED]. Sure, he was hot. But he was kind of a prick.

But he did respect your gender identity…

And he never went too far, making sure he didn’t cross any lines or boundaries…

And he gave you that academic rival that you’d been search―

…Oh my god.

He was your academic rival.

You loved rivals to lovers… Was this a sign? You got a hot rival, who respects you, your boundaries, your intellect and he was hot?!

Okay, maybe you had dreamed about him on a couple of weird occasions, but dreams don’t mean anything!

Is what you would say if you were in denial.

Oh dear, did you like him?!

You gave him a quick once over, looking at all the piercings on his ears and face as your eyes trailed to his shirt which clung tightly to his skin, all defined abs and muscles on display.

Hold up! Were those body cutouts on his top around his hips that you saw?! Fuck, those were hot…

Your eyes trailed a little bit lower to his pants… and shit, he was packing… There was no way in hell he was allowed to be that big, in height and in… length.

Ugh, your thoughts made you shudder a little. No way you were thirsting over a guy you were just fighting.

…But it wouldn’t be the first time, that’s for sure…

Okay, so maybe you had not-so-subtly eyed your seatmate like he was a piece of meat.

But he enjoyed the attention! He loved you drinking him up like he was just a pretty thing. But he was your pretty thing… Some random girls keep trying to ask him out, but he doesn’t want them. He wants you. But most importantly, he wants you to want him too.

“What, cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He teased, using something other than angel as a nickname.

“Wh-Whatever, [REDACTED]. Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and took your attention off of him before whispering something under your breath.

“Angel, you gotta speak up.”

You grimaced, “I guess you go into the alright department. Luckily for you, you’re the only one there. You seem to be the only one I know who’s cool enough to handle me around here.”

He blinked, looking at you in subtle reverence, “A whole department for me, angel? Thank you.” He laced it with an edge of sarcasm but internally, he couldn’t have been more happy. 

He was the only one there that you tolerated! The only one you liked.

You. Chose. Him.

[autistic-crunchwrap]

I watched all of The Bear Season 3 and I have so many thoughts... SPOILERS BELOW

TL;WR: It was not all bad... There were high points and low points for sure, and I did enjoy the high points! but the stress and chaos this season brought was not worth the few and far between moments of goodness we saw.

First, the good:

Liza Colón-Zayas. Oh my god. A true standout, as always. If her episode doesn’t win her an Emmy, I will be fucking furious. Ayo also deserves an Emmy for directing that episode. Every second of the episode was beautiful and moving and added significantly to the overall plot and character development of the show (as every episode of a 10-episode season show should… but more on that later)

Abby Elliot, I love you. I am a Nat Berzatto stan through and through. Ice Chips was my favorite episode of the season. AE’s chemistry with Jamie Lee Curtis is unmatched. I was so genuinely touched by this episode. This episode was family therapy for me, I think. Thank you Abby Elliot, very cool.

Richie gets some great family time with his daughter and Tiff this season, and it’s genuinely so good to see him continue to grow and support his family even when it’s really hard for him. I see how hard he’s trying and I love him for it.

Ted Fak gave some really great energy that really worked this season. Him and Neil were consistently funny and entertaining to watch. I enjoyed their bit about haunting that came up several times throughout the season

JOHN FUCKING CENA being a Fak was an INSANE choice but I loved it. This show has gone off the rails and goddamn it I need more John Cena immediately

Joel McHale is back and as bitchy as ever! I love the havoc he wreaks on Carmy. His line from episode 10, “I don’t think about you” (paraphrasing, I’m not going back to watch it for the exact quote) made me gasp watching it. If Carmy wasn't such a prick, I would feel bad, but Season 3 Carmy deserves the shit Chef David deals him.

Olivia Coleman. That is all.

"You can go fuck" is my favorite Bear quote, especially when Nat says it

Always happy to see Will Poulter as Luca. His lil mullet is adorable and I love him. I hope he and Syd connect even more in Season 4

Pete asking Syd if different foods make different levels of noise was the funniest bit the whole season. Protect Pete at all costs.

Now for the bad…

Where’s the fucking character development??? Carmy and Syd in particular felt very stuck this season. The whole season is very stuck in the past and pays a lot of lip service to 'working through your shit'... but no one ever works through their shit this season (save for Richie, sort of) and it annoyed the hell out of me.

The whole first episode felt like a waste of time. Almost no narrative development, 20+ minutes of montage and fancy shots of cooking? Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the food porn in The Bear. I live for that shit. But the narrative went NO WHERE in Episode 1 because of how much fancy cooking footage was there instead. Gurl, get on with it. I’m bored.

There are several secrets being kept this season. Syd being offered another (possibly better) position and never talking to Carmy about it, Cicero not telling Carmy that he's now broke and can't help pay for the restaurant anymore, and the details of the restaurant review being kept a secret from the audience (and the characters) for most of the season. And like, we just never really get any payoff from it?? We barely see the restaurant review at the end, Syd doesn't tell Carmy about the other job, and Cicero doesn't tell Carmy about being broke. We ended the season where we started. Re: a waste of time!

Another waste of time was the slight of hand/magic trick theme thing they tried to do but didn't fully develop. I was confused as to what the point of all that was, but it was never fully resolved. Don't give me that 'to be continued' shit because you didn't tie up your loose ends this season. I know bad writing when I see it.

Cicero was especially difficult to watch this season. More antagonistic than usual (which, fair, The Bear is a very expensive shitshow) but it makes a big deal about saying he wishes he would've shown up for the Berzatto kids more, but for what purpose? He says this twice, only for it to be revealed to the audience that he's basically lying to Carmy about having money. Bad writing makes this character more scummy than I think he needs to be.

The Claire subplot went absolutely nowhere this season. I think the only time we actually see Claire in present day (and not just in Carmy's blue-tinted 'Supercut' by Lorde memories of her...) is when Neil and Ted Fak are fucking with her at work about Carmy. She was a major trigger point for Carmy this season, but he never does anything to make amends to her, which I found strange considering there's a WHOLE EPISODE about Carmy "considering apologizing." Shut the fuck up. Apologize to her or don't, but she is not haunting you, Carmen. Goddamn.

Speaking of Carmy never apologizing, this season is SO full of callbacks to previous seasons and makes such specific references that the audience is expected to remember, but there are giant plot holes and references that are all but forgotten. The "I'm sorry" sign that Carmy taught Syd to do on the line when they're upset at each other is never brought up once this season, which feels lazy. Carmy did that sign when he was being an asshole last season, and it felt like that was missing. Also, some of the motifs this season just didn't make sense to me.

Finally, Carmen Berzattto is a grade-A asshole the whole season. Like, just a massive prick with no character development, no arc, no interest in healing or working through his shit or connecting with other human beings in really anyway, and honestly? He was antagonistic and demanding and harsh in a way we've never see him before, and I don't think it was for the better. I understand that it's because he's lost this humility and is turning into Chef David, which is the worst thing in the world to Carmy, but he shows 0 remorse for being an asshole this season. Him 'not being able to say sorry' isn't a good enough excuse for how truly grating his character was the entire season. I didn't enjoy watching him on screen. My favorite moments this season were the ones where Carmy was no where to be found. I loved Carmy in Seasons 1 and 2, but I wanted nothing to do with him this season. That's just bad writing.

PHEW, that was a lot! Okay my loves, thanks for sticking through all that. Please let me know your thoughts and hot takes too!! Anyway, stan Natalie Berzatto, and pick up some fucking C-folds, yeah?

[anurst]

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: jake makes the first move and now you've got a date for tomorrow night. But for tonight, you're spending the night with your therapist.

Pairing(s): jake seresinx (fem)(bradshaw) reader

Warning(s): language, therapy, self-esteem/self-doubt issues

Part 4: Gorgeous dirty blond, green-eyed, southern babe

So, training hadn't gone as well as you expected it to. Jensen had the time of his life knocking you on your ass more than once. To make up for it though, you had taken down Carlos more times than you could count.

You moaned as you pushed your chest towards the ground in between your spread leg. Stretching was always great after training.

"You feeling better?" Ethan asked as he sits down next to you, beginning his own stretches. You and Ethan have been friends for years, much like everyone on your team, but there was always this polite distance between you. While everyone felt comfortable asking personal question, Ethan never did. He'd wait for you to tell him what was bothering you. Which is why it made you frown when he asked how you were feeling.

"Uh—better, I guess. My body doesn't feel all tense now. My ass actually hurts a lot since Jen slammed down like a billion times."

Ethan chuckles, "Yeah, well now you know how the rest of us feel when we're paired with him for sparing."

You raise a brow, "What are you talking about?"

Rolling his eyes, Ethan his upper body towards his right leg, "Jensen's always takes it easier on you. Has been since Russia." You scoff at his comment. Ethan also had a tendency to be blunt. Not a bad thing, but it could be when he said something weird, like now. He could tell that his comment rubbed you the wrong way, so he changes the subject. "She's here."

"Who is?"

"The girl—the pilot that ghosted me."

You snort and Ethan glares at you. "Sorry! What you gonna do?" He shrugs and stands. You follow his movement and stand with him.

"Wasn't gonna do anything, really. I think she's into the blond with glasses on her team." You both begin walking to the locker rooms.

"Need me to fight her?" Ethan smiles at your words.

"As entertaining as that would be, I don't think the raiders would find it as funny as I do." You shrug.

You're talking with Amy and leaving the women's locker room when you see Jake. He's leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone. Waiting for you.

Amy grins as she pulls your arm, "Your prince charming's waiting!"

You grimace at her words. "I don't know about that." Amy visibly deflates.

"(y/n), I love you. I think you are one of the best humans on this planet. But, you are goddamn stupid. There is a gorgeous dirty-blond, green-eyed, southern babe standing right over, who is clearly interested in you!" Your cheeks start to warm up as you stare at Jake. "If you don't talk to him, I will," Amy threatens before taking off in the opposite direction. You take a deep breath in and walk towards Jake.

"You make it a habit of waiting outside of women's locker rooms?" you tease, your heart beginning to beat faster. Jake shakes his head at your question and smiles at you.

"Only for you."

"Oh, I'm flattered," you joke. You reach up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear and you panic. You didn't shower after training since you wanted to in the comforts of your own apartment. Does Jake think you smell bad? That would ruin any chance you have with the dirty blond.

"How was training?" It's an innocent question but makes you panic.

"I don't smell!"

Jake raises an eyebrow with an amused smirk, "No, you don't. You hit your head too hard or somethin'?" Oh shit, his slight southern drawl makes your knees go weak.

"Well, Jensen did knock me on my ass a couple hundred times. He's the best at hand-to-hand in the first battalion, so basically all of the raiders."

Something shifts on Jake's face, but you don't notice it. "Is he your boyfriend?" You frantically shake your head.

"No! God, no! He's like my brother!" You both cringe at your words and you sigh. "I mean— he's my best friend. Has been for the past fifteen years. He's my rock, my person, you know better half or whatever." Jake nods as he smiles again.

"Good. I won't feel bad for asking you on a date then." You let out a shaky chuckle.

"Date?"

"Yep," he replies, popping the 'p'.

"And this isn't some set up?" you ask, doubt beginning to form in your heart. Jake's cute, gorgeous even, but he's friends with Bradley. What if Bradley put him up to this? Would Bradley do that?

"If you're thinking that Rooster put me up to this, you're wrong. So wrong, darling."

"Rooster?" you question.

"Bradshaw— uh Bradley's callsign."

"Really? He went with Rooster?"

"He sounds like one when he snores." Jake laughs with you before he bites his lip. "So, that date?" You struggle to answer.

"Jake. I'm sure you're a great guy, an amazing guy even. But you—"

"Work with my brother and Maverick," Jake finishes. He nods in acceptance, disappointment clear on his face. "It's alright. I get it." He begins to walk away and your stomach flips.

"Wait!" You grab his wrist. "What do you like more pancakes, waffles, or french toast?" Jake looks at you with face full of confusion and you laugh. "No jokes. Just which one do you like more?"

"Waffles," he answers and you grin. He's a waffles guy. Of course, he is.

"There's this place called Casita Ruiz. I've got a hot date with my therapist tonight, so tomorrow night. At 6. If you're late, I know how to break every bone in the human body, just so you know." Jake's smiling wide, and so are you.

"I'll show up at 5:30 then." Before you know what's happening, Jake lean forward and presses a kiss against your cheek. Your face burns up even more. "I'll see you tomorrow, Braidy."

"Call me (y/n). It's my middle name. The only people who call me Braidy are the ones I don't like."

"You like me?"

"Don't push your luck, cowboy."

No matter how many times you've sat on this sofa, you'll never get use to it. Ava's staring at you with her dark, brown eyes and you shift uncomfortably. Sighing, you decided to just lay on the sofa, even though your feet hang over.

"(y/n)," Ava begins and you groan. "You called me and said you needed to talk to me right away." You cover your eyes with your arm and lick your lips.

"Bradley and Pete are here," you finally say. Ava's eyes widen and she sits a little straighter. She's heard about them many times from you. They're the main topic you talk about. Them, and the nightmares that you get from your countless assignments.

"And, how does that make you feel?" Ava asks, her voice soft and comforting. But, it doesn't have the effect she wants because you sit right up.

"How does it make me feel?" you scoff, venom clear in your voice. "They've been stationed in Miramar for the past two year together! Miramar! 45 fucking minutes away me! You know, I bet they were having the goddamn time of their lives there! As if nothing fucking happened!" You run a hand through your hair.

Ava bits her lips. "45 minutes, huh."

"Yeah," you whisper, voice broken and Ava frowns. You've been seeing her for the past seven years, and you've made a lot of progress. But now? It seems it's all gone down the drain at the appearance of your estranged brother and godfather.

"Braidy," she says, voice now firm, and you glare.

"Don't call me that."

"They call you that."

"Well, Bradley and Pete can go fuck themselves for all I care."

"You do care. You care a lot. That's why we're sitting here," she says and you roll your eyes. You've gone back to lay down and turn your head to look at Ava.

"I don't want to care," you say, your eyes becoming watery.

"But, you do. You care so much that you're hurting yourself." You turn away from Ava's eyes and look at the ceiling. "Have you ever thought about talking to them."

"I'd end up yelling at them if I did."

"Maybe that's what you need. To yell them. Tell them everything and anything." You nod and press your lips into a thin line, debating whether you should tell Ava about Jake.

"There's this guy. His name's Jake and he's a naval aviator," you let out a humourless chuckle, "He works with Bradley and Pete. Before coming here, he asked me out and I said yes."

"That's good. It's been a while since you've been on a date," Ava teases. You snort and look at her.

"You making fun of me, Doc?"

"Just an observation." Your eyes go back to the ceiling. "I can tell there's a but coming."

"But, I'm not sure going out with him is a good idea."

Ava nods, "You think Bradley has something to do with him asking you out."

"Yes and no."

"Do you wanna talk about your doubts?"

You sigh, "Aside from the fact that I'm Bradley's sister, there's nothing interesting about me. I mean, he could have gone for Amy. She's brighter, smiles more, and guys love that. So, why me?" There it is. The self-doubt. It's one of the issues that you've been working on in the past seven year.

"(y/n)" your eyes don't stray from the ceiling, "You're not unloveable."

"I know."

Ava sighs, "Have you given more thought to my suggestion?"

"About the dog?"

"Mhmm, you've always said you wanted one."

"I work too much," you clear your throat. "I wouldn't be around enough to take care of it. It's cruel. To give someone hope that you'll be around and them drop off the face of the earth."

Taglist: @potato-girl99981 @winterrebel04 @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina  @krismdavis @phantomxoxo @piceous21 @laneyspaulding19 @multifandomfangirll @moron-says-what @rhirhikingston @startrekfangirl2233 @mightiestheroes @awesomebooklover17 @gizmodear @meritxellao @adaydreamaway088 @letsgomamas @midnightzonzz @iamaslytherin0 @thesewordsxlibrary @shawnsblue @theficthatwaspromised

[ashsd3ad]

# being gojo satoru’s therapist.

word count: 2.5k-ish

some angst (suicide is mentioned very briefly), no use of y/n, cursing, female!reader, idiots unknowingly pining for each other, emotionally constipated gojo

it was so fucking stupid, he didn’t need any of this. he’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern era for god’s sake.

why on earth was he being forced to see a goddamn therapist?

upon yaga’s request- well, demand actually, he was required to see a shrink because, as the principal worded it, he needed ‘a lot of fucking help’.

of course, he refused at first.

thee satoru gojo in a shrink’s office? what was that, some twisted fucking joke?

sadly for him though, yaga decided to put his foot down and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. he threatened the snowy haired man to take away his teaching job if he didn’t get the help he apparently desperately needed.

so it began, satoru gojo’s journey with his therapist.

over the course of a couple of months, satoru had grown accustomed to his routine with his therapist.

he met up with her in her cozy little office, she tried to make the conversation about his feelings and he’d redirect it to something else entirely, mainly complaining about higher ups in his field.

that always earned him a look, but she never forced him to share his inner monologues with her.

she couldn’t do that even if she wanted to anyways, he wouldn’t let her.

all of this led to an unlikely.. friendship?

well, satoru wouldn’t exactly call it a friendship, but it was.. something.

that day, was no different than their usual meetings.

a tall and lean figure made its way into her office and sat on the comfortable armchair in front of her about 30 minutes prior, but all she got from him up until that point were silences and changes of subject.

“and how did that make you feel?” god here she went again with that stupid fucking question.

satoru sighed, stretching his legs and arms a little.

sometimes she forgot how massive he actually was.

the woman briefly averted her eyes, looking everywhere but at his stupidly stunning figure, afraid yet another crack would appear in her professional persona.

she’d tell herself it wasn’t her fault, it was only natural after all! he was just very nice to look at.

she could be pretty dense, for a therapist.

“you worry too much,” he said casually, albeit a little irritated, after some back and forth. for some reason he couldn’t quite understand, his mood wasn’t the best that day, but he still tried to keep his usual laid back attitude, hiding the annoyance behind a pout. for her sake.

“i’ve told you countless times, i’m here just because i was basically forced, nothing is actually wrong with me.. if yaga didn’t constantly check in with you, i wouldn’t even attend our ‘sessions’ in the first place”.

well.. if he had to be completely honest, satoru had told only half the truth.

he attended their meetings also because his therapist was a very pretty sight to look at, and surprisingly interesting to talk to (when she wasn’t trying to pry into his feelings, that is.)

satoru was more than aware she was only trying to do her job, he really was. he just.. didn’t care, so he decided he was going to make it her problem. maybe he’d manage to get her to her wits end and she’d finally give up on him.

‘please don’t give up on me’

gojo leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. a playful smile took over his previously pouty lips as he said something along the lines of ‘why don’t we talk about YOUR feelings instead?’.

maybe he could joke his way out of this? he hoped he could.

his therapist sighs, scrunching her nose and pinching the bridge of it slightly. cute.

“we don’t talk about my feelings because i am your therapist, not the other way around, gojo” she countered, trying to keep the conversation as workplace appropriate as possible, suppressing the urge to headbutt the stubbron (and gorgeous) man in front of her.

the woman was very proud of her skills as a therapist, so much so that the lack of progress with this peculiar snowy haired man left her particularly dissatisfied, so she started putting slightly more effort than usual in trying to crack his façade, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“and, for your information, i do worry about you for a reason” she continued, voice firm, stern even.

‘she really worries about me?’

“judging by the very limited amount of insight on yourself you’ve provided me, you really do need someone to talk to about your feelings” his pretty therapist added, looking at him straight in the eyes.

she looked like she wanted to obliterate his sunglasses with her mind.

‘don’t look at me like that’

feelings feelings feelings, he was so tired of hearing her going on about them.

after that statement his mood quickly worsened even more, his face fading in a cold, borderline cynical, front.

‘well, thats a first’ she thought to herself, a little taken aback.

satoru had been curious about what exactly she saw in him from day one. was it concern? pity?

‘i don’t want her pity’

whatever it was, it was a waste of time on both ends.

"i see" he hummed thoughtfully as he tapped his fingers against his knee, pondering on his next words. "can I ask you something?"

“sure, go ahead” she answered calmly, a bit of unsureness and skepticism detectable in her voice given the sudden shift in his character.

satoru seemed to stare right through her for a few moments. his gaze was cold and unmoving, his eyes felt like they were piercing hers in a way that no other client's ever has.

“have you ever considered…” he begins slowly, voice low “that you might not be as good at this job as you think you are?”

his words were sharp, each one chosen with great intent. there was something behind his eyes that both fascinated and terrified her.

‘im sorry’

her eyes widened momentarily at his question.

a flash of annoyance, maybe even anger, thundering in them as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips parting to throw an equally biting remark back at him.

be professional.

she took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other, speaking calmly once again.

“if you want to criticise my skills you’re free to do so, even though you’re not qualified to do so” the woman retorted.

“and if you want a different therapist you’re more than free to ask mr. yaga” her words did have a little edge to them, but she still managed to keep most of her composure.

before the man in front of her could get a word in, she added one more thing.

“but from my perspective, a therapist’s perspective, you do need one” she said as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.

‘i know i need help’

‘help me please’

satoru pondered for a couple of seconds, then he chuckled humourlessly as he leaned back in his chair.

his face was stoic, similar to a statue, and his eyes lacked their usual shininess, almost looking muddy.

not that she’d noticed anyways, considering they were hidden behind his glasses.

there was an intensity to his gaze though, one that made even just looking at him feel as if she was under a microscope.

"I think you're taking this too personally." he hums, mocking her ever so slightly.

"i’m not criticising your skills per se, all I'm saying is..." he pauses for a moment, considering how best to say it. "even a blind man could see your ‘concern’ for me runs deeper than the usual pity you feel for all your patients”

“you must think i’m really fucking pathetic, huh?”

what the fuck was he going on about?

“my concern for you, or any other patient for the matter, is not based on pity in the first place, gojo” she looked at him, her face bewildered.

“you think i pity you?” she raised both her eyebrows in question, the incredulous expression still on her face.

satoru chuckles. though the sound is soft and quiet, delightful to hear, something about its sweetness makes it bone chilling.

nonetheless, this made her excited.

it was the widest range of emotions he’d ever shown her.

‘im breaking through!’

“do you not?” he asks, shifting in his chair, and leaning back in it once again, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“why else would you be trying as hard as you are to ‘fix’ me?” he asks, a frown stretched across his gorgeous face.

“i’m just a client like any other, but yet here you are! trying your damn hardest to change me.”

ah, so he did noticed her extra effort huh. fuck.

still, who the hell put the idea she pitied him into his stupid head?

“i do not pity you, gojo. i’ve seen patients far worse than you are” she said, almost sounding a little defensive.

“and i’m not trying to ‘fix you’, or change you for that matter! that is not my job!” she exclaimed, a smidge too loud, massaging her temple with one of her hands immediately after. probably to chase away the growing headache he’d given her.

‘i managed to piss off my own therapist what the fuck is wrong with me and why do i even care?’

before he was completely swallowed by his self deprecating thoughts, her voice brought him back once again, like a saving grace.

“my job is helping patients navigate through their emotions, using methods that are tailored perfectly for them” she explained.

“i communicate with my patients to help them find a way to process their feelings that works for them. i do not pity them, i just help them” she paused “..or, well, try to. if they let me” the woman concluded, face serious.

his face twists in distaste as he listened to her speak. bullshit.

“that’s the thing though,” he responds slowly “i don’t need help with that”

the man pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, finally meeting her eyes properly.

‘he’s so pretty’

“you think I need your little ‘tools’? or to talk about my feelings??” he said, annoyance lacing his voice.

“i have always known how to process my emotions. I don’t need you to teach me how. i’m. fine.”

she barely held back the urge to scoff.

gojo had never realised how bad his coping mechanism were, and she was just trying to get him to develop healthier ones, bit by bit.

‘communicating would be a great fucking start’

evidently though, it wasn’t working, so she decided it was time to switch up her approach and be a little brazen, maybe that would work.

“you? processing emotions? that’s a good one.” she snickered

he scrunched his nose up, questioningly “and what could you possibly mean by that, huh?” he felt himself get more and more agitated as the seconds ticked by.

he felt like he was being stripped naked, exposed, against his will. all the things he’d worked so hard to bury, the careless persona he’d built..

‘stop looking at me, stop finding out things about me i don’t want you to know.’

“you bottle everything up, pretend it’s fine and let it eat at you from the inside, little by little” she looked at him menacingly, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“that big goofy grin, or the confident smirk you put on, doesn’t work in here, gojo”

she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “in this office, i’m reading you, not the other way around” she continued ad she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“i know you’re used to getting you way, because you’re smart, even though it doesn’t look like it, but as long as your ass is sat in that chair, you won’t find a way to give me answers you think will please me”

“if your goal is to get me to tell yaga to get off your back, then we’re going to be here for loooong. i’m striving for the truth and i’m going to get it”

to hell with being professional.

the man remained silent for a few moments, his expression almost..hurt? “…I think I hate you.”

he smiled in defeat, leaning forward once again, and though his voice was even and calm, it came out a bit strained.

“no, I know I do.” he didn’t though, and that confused him to no end.

the woman gently laid her hands in her lap, trying to ignore the sting his words left in her chest as her voice went back to its usually stoic connotation, completely discarding the venom it previously dripped in.

“i get that a lot from patients like yourself” she started, calmly.

“usually, they drop therapy after a few session because they can’t handle the truth being thrown in their face and then, after a while..”

a pause, like she was choosing her next words carefully “they end up dropping dead on the floor when the fire crew cuts the rope they hung themselves from” she finished, her expression darkening ever so slightly.

“you think you don’t need help, you think you’re fine just ignoring your emotions, but one day they will catch up to you and it’ll be too late to save you” her voice lowered, almost shamefully, as she tore her eyes away from his.

“nobody will be there to save you from drowning.”

satoru looked shocked for a moment, then he felt a sudden and unprovoked rage take over his body.

how dare she?

he wasn’t like that. he was strong. the strongest, actually.

he wordlessly jumped up from of his seat and went to stride straight out of the room, with the intention of never stepping foot there again, but then he stopped, his back still to her.

for some weird reason he couldn’t quite comprehend, gojo felt the need to still try and prove he was fine, despite the fact the issues he’d tried so hard to hide had been uncovered and brought up to the scorching sunlight.

“i’m not stupid. i am perfectly aware shit might eventually catch up to me, but i’m the strongest fucking being that ever walked this earth, i’ll deal with it”

what was meant to be a powerful statement, came out sounding whiny and hoarse, almost like he was trying to delude himself into believing his own words.

‘at least he admitted he has issues, progress is progress’

his therapist opened her mouth to talk, but he didn’t give her a chance.

he felt like he was being consumed by a sudden and foreign rage.

“BESIDES WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?!” he suddenly screamed, rapidly turning to face her again, his glasses being hauled across the room in the process.

“why are you that concerned over some stranger like me?” he adds, his expression hard, “do you genuinely, truly, believe I’m worth helping?!”

‘we’re going to have to work on these self deprecating thoughts’

‘im the strongest, i don’t need to be cared for.’

“yes, i do” she stood up from her chair in a (failed) attempt to not crane her neck upwards to look at him.

“i do believe you are worth helping” she assured him in a gentle voice “you can walk out now, if you wish, but never forget this is a safe space where you’re free to talk, satoru” she said, her words surprisingly comforting.

“you’re not a god, you’re human just like the rest of us”

being called human never felt so good.. and it was also the first time she had ever called him by his first name.

and just like that, the usual gojo satoru was back, cracking jokes.

“do you normally call your clients by their first name, or am i special?” he asked, the question dripping with sarcasm and a tiny bit of flirt, as a small smile appeared on his lips.

the angry pretty boy has been calmed down, success.

“you definitely have a savior complex” he added quietly, chuckling a bit “it’s cute”.

a smile made its way on her face too as she shook her head a little, her cheeks a little warm at the compliment “whatever lets you sleep at night”

the woman sat back down, once again crossing one leg over the other.

“now, will you sit down and give therapy an actual chance, satoru?” she looked up at him, expectantly and hopefully.

“yeah.. yeah, i’ll do that.”

gojo satoru may have been the strongest sorcerer in modern history, but he was still human like everyone else.

☆

| @ASHSD3AD ‘S WORK, DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE. |

[lunerna21]

I've been feeling on and off for a while, but I wanted to talk about a couple of things

(***LONGISH POST AHEAD! MY BRAIN IS RUNNING AT A MILLION MILES PER HOUR!***)

I THOUGHT WEREN'T GETTING A BOOK 7 UPDATE BUT WE’RE STACKED FOR BOTH EN AND JPN SERVERS!!

I'm gonna talk briefly about the EN server and then jump to talking about the JPN server

I was honestly expecting them to release maybe one more chapter before the end of the year, BUT THIS PERFECTLY OKAY WITH ME~!

I do wish they had just released Playful Land the beginning of October instead of the ending, but I'm glad the beginning of the month is Playful Land and then the end is Book 7

IM NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO SOBBING FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME BUT WE'RE FINALLY PROGRESSING COMPARED TO LAST YEAR

I JUST WANT TO HUG SILVER AND SEBEK CAUSE I WAS INCONSOLABLE WHEN SEBEK WAS STRAIGHT FUCKING SOBBING AND SILVER KEPT BLAMING HIMSELF FOR EVERYTHING

IF WE GET ONE MORE CHAPTER IN DECEMBER FOR BOTH SERVERS, OOOOOOOOOO YANA I WILL GIVE YOU ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING!

Now, onto the JPN Server!!

***SPOILERS TO JPN SERVER BOOK 7 CONTENT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!***

.....Folks let me just say one thing...someone is gonna have to play for my therapy bills after this next chapter...

AND RUGGIE LOOKS SO CUTE BUT THEN I SAW HOW PEOPLE WERE SAYING HE'S ATTENDING ANOTHER SCHOOL IN HIS DREAM, SO ANOTHER STUDENT THAT DOESN'T DREAM ABOUT STILL BEING AT NRC!!!

I can't blame Ruggie either considering he was traumatized from Leona attacking AND trying to kill him, but also just how much Ruggie has been through SINCE THE GODDAMN DAY HE WAS BORN!

YANA, I SWEAR TO THE GREAT SEVEN IF THEY MAKE IT THAT BOTH HIS PARENTS ARE ALIVE AND RUGGIE HAS A HARD TIME COPING WITH THE REALITY THAT HE HAS TO GO BACK TO LOSING THEM AND BEING BROKE, I WILL BE SENDING YOU MY THERAPY BILL

LIKE, LOOK AT THIS FREAKING CUTIE!!

Ruggie Bucchi is without a doubt one of my favorite characters from Twist and IM GOING TO BE HAVING SUCH A HARD TIME SEEING RUGGIE GO THROUGH HIS TRAUMAS, CONSIDERING HE KEEPS THINGS PRIVATELY TO HIMSELF

RUGGIE BUCCHI, YOU ARE LOVED!!😭❤️❤️❤️

I am also so INCREDIBLY curious to see Leona's dream. Is he gonna be aware that it's a dream and accepts it? Is he like everyone else and doesn't remember anything from Lilia's farewell party?

And this will FINALLY BE ADDRESSED IN THIS UPDATE?!

WHAT DOES THAT MEANNNNNN?!?!

SOOOOOO WHAT DID YOU GIVE THEN, LEONA!?!

THIS QUESTION HAS BEEN EATING ME ALIVE FOR SO WAY TOO LONG BUT I SWEAR TO GOD IF WE DON'T GET ANSWERS FOR THIS IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT

I FEEL OUT OF ALL THE BOOKS IN TWISTED WONDERLAND, THIS GROUP NEEDS REDEMPTION AND I WANNA SEE THEM BOND AND CRY TOGETHER OR SOMETHING JUST GIVE IT TO ME!!!

THE MOMENT I CAN GET A TRANSLATED VERSION OF THE UPDATE, I'M HAVING A TALL GLASS OF WINE AND SOME GREENERY (😉) AND DIVING INTO THIS CHAPTER!

LASTLY, I CANNOT BELIEVE WE ARE SO MUCH CLOSER (HOPEFULLY CAUSE I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE) TO SEEING ACE AND DEUCE AGAIN!!

AHHHHHH FHEJAFIOEAJFJERAJF I NEED TO SEE THEM BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR

One concern I have though is we haven't see the dream/visions of when Prince Philip gets kidnapped by Maleficent and her goons

SO WHAT IF HE'S JUST WAITING FOR THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO CUT US OFF AND PREVENT US FROM MAKING ANY MORE PROGRESS?!

AND WHAT ABOUT THIS ⬇️ ?!?!?!?!?!?!? (Sorry if it's a lot lol I'm overwhelmed, is it obvious?😂)

AHHHHHHH I JUST DON'T KNOW IF WE'LL GET ANSWERS FOR THIS IN HEARTSLABYUL'S CHAPTER, BUT IM HORRIFIED IM SEEING ACE AND DEUCE OVERBLOT OR SOMETHING

I NEED TO GO CALM DOWN, BUT I HOPE WE GET SOME ANSWERS!!

[thebroccolination]

30-DAY BL CHALLENGE - Day 2

"THIS SCENE GIVES ME THE URGE TO BREAK SOMETHING"

Okay, so…it's been two years.

Between Us wasn't as great as I was hoping it would be. And for…god, So Many Reasons. Even though I spent the whole run time trying to see the best in it and writing so much positive meta on here, ultimately I can say that my honest review of Between Us is that BounPrem did a phenomenal job with confusing material (Team's backstory in the novel is less complicated and more impactful than what they put in the series) and poor directing choices. (You did not need five fucking couples, New. I assume you were trying to advertise the stable full of actors you took on for some baffling reason when you were struggling to keep the lights on with the ones you already had. It backfired. A lot .)

So the reason this scene makes me want to break something is because I sincerely think it's the best scene in the series, and it shows how good it could have been.

It's the one time the music is perfect (New does not know how to do sound design at all and it is my goddamn villain origin story WHY WERE THERE FIVE MUSIC CUES IN A FOUR-MINUTE SCENE, SIWAJ), WinTeam's LITERAL push-and-pull choreography is flawless, and the kiss is exactly as feral as it should be at that stage in their relationship.

The look Win gives Team after Team slams him into the locker??? Like, "Yeah, okay, that was hot," and then he slams Team into the locker back. It made me think of their vers dynamic in the novel.

But it's also the little details! Like Boun covering the latch on the locker with his hand when they swapped places because Prem accidentally shoved him into it and he didn't want Prem hurt his back on it, too. He didn't break character, he found a way to fit it into the scene, and it works for Win's character to protect Team, too.

I think New directed Between Us because he loves BounPrem. He knew it meant a lot to them, and they waited two years through a global pandemic to have their own series. BounPrem had passion for WinTeam, but New had passion for BounPrem. And if it's true that New wasn't all that invested in WinTeam, it might explain why he didn't see an issue packing their series with side couples and leaving out huge chunks of the novel relevant to WinTeam's development (Team's actual backstory, Win helping him with his therapy journey, the studying abroad, etc.).

SO that's why this scene makes me want to throw bricks at a wall of ceramics. It's the best scene in the series which means the series peaked in episode two in a bonus scene New only let people access if they paid for it.

I have respect for New as a queer creator who protects his people and gave queer actors a safe company to work for. But if he messes up Revamp the way he messed up Between Us, I'm going to carve a candle in his likeness and feed it to a gargoyle.

[cruelestpigeon]

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES IMPRESSIONS: EP 115 - 120

EP 115: Taking Stock

SALESA?? Omg Salesa backstory? I feel like I've heard about the meat grinder in a previous story, no? Noooo Helen. Like I get why Jon was a jerk but like idk me personally I'd listen. It's better to have a weird ally than a weird enemy.

EP 116: The Show Must Go On

This episode was sooooo well written. HELP JON IMMEDIATELY SAYING MARTIN CAN'T GO??? Omg the gang is back together and scheming I'm so happy. "If you die I'm afraid you won't be able to claim your expenses." Tim is in desperate need of therapy it's not even funny, like someone has got to book him an appointment.

EP 117: Testament

I love these little bits where we get to see the characters thought process. JON BRINGING UP THE OFFICE GOSSIP IS CRAZY???? HES STUTTERING??? BRO YOU'RE ABOUT TO DIE YOU CANNOT BE STUTTERING OVER THIS LMAOOO. Awww Basira and Daisy are actually so cute, I love their friendship so much omg. Melanie's voice actor is so talented omg this is so well acted. I feel so bad for Melanie :( MELANIE'S TRIP???? :( Man I love Melanie. "I need him to be okay. sorry." WHAT DOES THAT MEAN MARTIN??? DID HE JUST TELL JON TO CHILL OUT LMAO? Oh my god Martin has a legitimate crush stop I love him. World could possibly end and he's here yapping about his crush. Daisy is so real for just turning on the recorder and only breathing and saying okay. Noooooo Tim :(

Current predictions: Tim dies, Someone is irreversibly injured, Basira dies? They succeed but not properly so there's extreme damages to our world and reality

EP 118: The Masquerade

Jon was really okay with Martin burning cases?? Losing that knowledge??? Tim I love you for making bad jokes. Oh?? Weird Tape appearing out of nowhere?? ELIAS CLOCKED MARTIN'S FEELINGS SO FAST LMAOOO This is horrifying then. HE ADMITTED THE FEELINGS???????? YALLLLLL. Elias really said "your mom" and then went on to attack Martin's mommy issues. GUYS IM ACTUALLY THE NUMBER ONE ELIAS HATER. THEY BETTER SUCCEED AND KILL HIM I NEED HIM GONE AFTER WHAT HE DID TO MELANIE AND MARTIN. DID DAISY JUST SHOOT JON???????

EP 119: Stranger And Stranger

The music goes so hard for this intro omg. THIS EPISODE IS SO COOL??? Tim saw Jon and then went to kill him, didn't even need an illusion goddamn. The Watcher??? Rip to Tim since he's pressing the detonator. After reading the description I missed Daisy dying and Basira leaving because I got confused :')

EP 120: Eye Contact

Elias you cannot be making a statement about a guys dreams that's just not right. So Jon is in the hospital?? Y'all this was a very cool statement but confused me so bad. WAIT SO DAISY DIED??? Elias is under arrest?? So there is that weird Lukas guy. OH new guy in charge then.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

This finale was so weird on so many levels. So much not processed??? Like we haven't see the aftermath of it all which is a bit weird. Man I wish I was apart of the fandom at the time so I could see people dissect this and explain bits I missed and make silly theories.

[jaysbookofnothing]

Acotar rambles

Nesta is the oldest sister and the one who was groomed by her mother to be perfect; she was literally prepared all her childhood to be perfect at everything and to be the wife of another man, never getting a life for herself. Nesta is a mean and passive sister that I'm not going to defend, but I hate when the fandom acts like that's all she is. Nesta has trauma herself, almost being married to a rapist and abuser, watching her sister get kidnapped, getting turned into a fae by force, and getting plunged into the middle of a war she should have had no place in. Her and Cassian are also all types of unstable; yes, I know they are mates, but that doesn't mean that they are good for each other. Cassian, repeatedly, let's talk down to Nesta. He doesn't even defend her; he lets his best friend and self-proclaimed brother threaten to kill his mate. Not only that, but he contributes to her self-doubt and hides the truth of her powers, even forcing her to keep secret the fact that her sister might die. I think she just needs a break from the inner circle, a long relaxing vacation with the Valkyries, and some therapy. (I do still hate her for letting a 14-year-old Feyre go into the woods.) Elain...sweet child Elain, God, you are pathetic. I don't mind the girly, peaceful, silent type of character. In fact, I adore characters like those, but Elain isn't it. What she is is just a sad waste. For example, when her 14-year-old sister was going into the woods to hunt animals for their family, she didn't try to use her gardening skills to maybe plant flowers during the spring. Try to use her flower gardening to sell the flowers, make dyes, or do anything else that would help the family. And then there's her whole thing with Lucian; I absolutely despise it. Even with her "thing" with the shadow MF, what she needs is to go off and live her cottage core life away from those poor men. I feel like Sara can still save her character, but I am just tired of her not doing anything. (I know she did things like kill the king and be a seer and all that, but goddamn, is she so bland?) Feyre, she could have been so much more. I liked her fistyness and determination in the first few books, but god did she tire me out by the end. First of all, she has such an "I'm not like other girls" vibe, and it's generally tiring after a while. Overall, she's a decent character. I just hate her ending, like, Why does she turn into a housewife? You're telling me that Feyre Cursebreaker, the woman who waged war on a Fae empire and won, is now a housewife? Honestly, the main reason I hate her ending is because of Rhys. I could get into such a big rant about Rhys; first off, in the first book, he drugged her and parraded her around in a sexual manner while she could not consent as a way of "protecting her." I don't think I have to explain how messed up that is. Next, he always talks about how much Feyre always has a choice in everything and that she can say no and yada yada, but did he give her a choice when he withheld the fact that she would die if she gave birth to their child? No. Did he maybe think of the side effects of sleeping with Feyre while they were both in their illerion forms, such as having a baby with illeion wings? Nope. Speaking of illerions, you cannot tell me that "the strongest fae lord of all time" can't smack some people with bat wings around enough so they stop abusing, clipping the wings, and raping their women. I guess he isn't as powerful after all. Speaking of women who Rhys let's suffer, your telling me he can't help the girls trapped in the Honestly, Rhys doesn't strike me as a good high lord; he is a patheric excuse for a love interest.

The inner circle God, where do I start? The inner circle is supposed to be this type of family, but honestly, it just feels like a group of bullies. They always talk about how powerful they are, how amazing they are, how their family is, etc., but they don't truly accept Lucian into their ranks, nor does Nesta. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys are truly nothing more than emo frat boys. Are we going to skip the part in Silver Flames where they talk about how they used to fuck girls in the same room as each other? Yeah...nasty. Their views on women are mildly concerning as well; it seems like they don't care, but they do. Rhys talks about how much he loved his mom, his sister, and how he would do anything for Feyre, yet he didn't tell her about the child that might kill her. Cassian's mate is Nesta, and he "loves" her, yet he lets Rhys threaten to kill her and talk down to her multiple times throughout the series. Azriel, I forget he exists for the most part; he's kind of a wet, sad dog in the corner crying. 

Mor, sweet girl, Mor. I don't know how to feel about her, honestly; good for her for getting out of the court of nightmares, but I'm a bit fishy about what Eris meant by Mor knowing the truth and hiding it.

Speaking of Eris, let's talk about him and Lucian. My two favorite characters (other than Gwen) truly wish nothing more than Lucian to be happy and get a good ending away from the inner circle at the end; he's gone through so much and yet gets treated like a dog. In fact, he still doesn't know that his father is Helion, despite Feyre and Rhys being aware! Eris, I'm really hoping, is going to pull a Rhys and end up being good in the end. I doubt anything that'll make me happy will actually happen, though, so I'll probably just have to stick to headcanons and fanfiction.

[homerforsure]

Encompassed: Coda for 6:10 In a Flash

Edit: Now on AO3 because I love attention

Pain arrives in increments. 

First, the headache that reminds him of how long it's been since he last ate, drank, slept. The nagging, insistent squeeze that doesn’t go away even when Maddie sees him rubbing his temples and offers him the bottle of ibuprofen she keeps in her purse. 

Next, it’s one sharp stab in the center of his chest, when his son, just a goddamn kid, asks the question he’s had to ask too many times before.

“Is he going to be okay?” 

“You know your Buck. He’s- He never gives up. Not ever.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah, buddy. Yeah, I’m scared.”

“Me too.” 

Panic tastes metallic at first and then like the sea as Eddie sobs silently on the edge of his bed before slipping down to the floor. He digs his fingernails into his arms and the fresh pain is an anchor, keeping him from spinning away in the churning dark. He’s gonna die He’s gonna die He’s gonna die He’s gonna die He’s gonna die. 

Then it’s the weight of a bruise–technically three, four bruises maybe, but they all throb in time over his shoulder and down his arm and across his back and over his hip and thigh. If he’d been wearing a tank, he would have been fucked, cracked ribs and all. But maybe then he would have gotten to stay. He’d submit to the white and blue gown if it meant he could stay. 

Hugging his son is a good ache, one that tugs on all the others and soothes them at the same time until he hears a request that feels like fingertips pressing into every place that already hurts.

“I want to see Buck.”

“Maybe later.”

“There might not be a later!”

They fall asleep together in a shitty hospital chair after Christopher cries out every last ounce of pain into Eddie’s shirt and Eddie picks it up and holds onto it for him because that’s what it means to be a dad. 

“He told me he wasn’t going anywhere.”

The crick in his neck afterward is a mockery of the rest of his pain and, god, does Eddie feel all of it when Hen takes Christopher to the bathrooms and to get a snack and he realizes that somehow, he’s alone.

No. 

Not alone.

With Buck.

Because Buck is still in there. Eddie pounded on his chest to drag him back and the proof of it is in green lines on screens and shrill little beeps that slice at his sanity like death by a thousand cuts. 

He’s crushed breathless with pain now. Not a heart attack. Heart break. It might kill him just the same. 

“You said that to me too, you know,” he says as though they’re shoulder to shoulder with beers in hand. It’s always so much easier to say what he means when he doesn’t have to look Buck in the eye while he does it. “You said you weren’t going anywhere.” 

Buck moved toward the door and Eddie’s heart stuttered even as he sniffed, fighting to right himself and pretend he hadn’t just destroyed his house and possibly his reputation in the eyes of his son and his best friend. “Thanks. Thanks for coming,” Eddie said. “I can call you tomorrow. Let you know…” 

He’ll never forget the look that Buck gave him as he slipped off his shoes and pulled his key out of the front door lock where he’d left it in his frenzied run inside. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. And he hadn’t.

His fingers tangle in the blanket that sticks to the calluses on his hands and he doesn’t take Buck’s hand. Eddie knows how they fit together. His skin tingles with the memory of Buck’s too weak grip when he lay under the truck, later of Buck thinking he could squeeze hard enough to make Eddie give up and leave him alone when he fought through physical therapy, later still giving Eddie something solid to hold onto during his own recovery. What he doesn’t know is how it might feel to take Buck’s hand for no reason at all. He was thinking that he had time to figure out what it means that he’s been wondering about it more and more. 

“Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.”

“That kid,” he starts, coughs, tries again. “That kid needs you.”

Christopher is three for four on people he loves going into an ambulance and coming back out of the hospital again. Buck skews the average. Buck always comes out of it okay. He always- He always- 

“I need you.” 

This time the hurt is everywhere. It starts in his marrow and spreads hot through his bones and tissue. It flows through him like blood, perfusing his organs, flooding every cavity in a tide that can’t be staunched. It’s like every part of him that ever held love for Buck has been set on fire and now wails out in helpless, screaming agony. And there’s nothing he can do. 

Nothing, 

Except. 

Eddie grabs onto Buck like a lifeline, grasping his forearm and squeezing like he can pull him out of this with one good heave. He might never let go. Not until Buck wakes up and squeezes back.

[nebulousfishgills]

As much as I love playing embrace Dark Urge runs (discussion in therapy pending), there's something so narratively satisfying about how a Resist Durge playthrough can go once you get to the Bhaal Temple. Your character steps into the ring with Orin, it's intended to be a duel, but odds are you're getting eviscerated pretty quickly. You then switch to one of your other characters in your party and throw an attack, effectively breaking the duel and setting the whole temple upon you.

(Adding a cut because this ended up being longer than I thought)

But, I think it's a very satisfying way to play. Your party members have grown fond of your Durge, seeing them as a friend, a family member, even a lover. They've watched you and your pain over your Urge and what it makes you do or want to do. Maybe you've slipped up once or twice, but you've been trying so hard to be the hero they know you can be, that Faerûn needs. So, when it comes time to finally face your demons and you're getting so horribly hurt in the process, they can't help but rush to your defense. It'll put all of them in danger, but it doesn't matter because they want and need to help you, their ally and companion.

Bonus points if you select your character's romanced companion as the savior/duel interruptor to make it extra delicious. They've fallen in love with you, stayed with you when your Urge craved their blood the most, maybe by this point in the game you've helped put their demons down as well. They see you in pain, a final valiant effort to overcome your Urge against the power of Orin, a whole cult, a god of murder himself. They want to protect you, save you as you saved them.

I'm also fond of the extra beauty of Astarion being your Resist Durge romance since it puts the two of you in very similar situations. Fighting against the will of your masters, finally defeating your demons with your newfound companions' help and being offered the greatest power you could ever fathom... only to deny it, ignore power in favor of your party and your love.

This isn't even mentioning just how goddamn good the Withers resurrecting you cutscene is. This skeleton in your camp with unknown and unfathomable power (also apparently supposed to be Jergal himself if I've done my research properly?) is able to bring you back to life, free of your Urge. The line along the lines of "Bhaal could only destroy what of you that he knew, but because you've grown past your Urge and become your own person, he couldn't destroy that new growth" is just so weirdly powerful narratively. Tav may be a default character for you to create upon making a new save file, but Durge is the canon protagonist and I think that entire scene shows it the best. It's a beautiful secondary climax of the narrative (primary being battling the Netherbrain of course).

And, perhaps it's just an oversight on Larian's part or something that'd be a bit difficult to work into the cutscenes mechanically, but I think that it could only get more impactful if your companions could comfort each other during these moments. Everyone and their mother wishes you could hug Astarion after he kills Cazador, but also imagine your romanced companion cradling your body after Bhaal kills you. It seems just a little odd that they all (meaning your party) kinda just stand around staring at your corpse, especially with how close y'all have gotten.

Idk, I have a lot of thoughts about this section of the game in this particular type of playthrough and some of them are hard to articulate into words. It's just such a damn good narrative peak and can really make you feel things.

I've completed I think two resist Durge runs and just hit this point on my third and it really stuck out to me this time (then again my new antidepressants are kinda fucking with me so that might be playing a role). I left it as my last mission before dealing with the Netherbrain and I think it helped build the anticipation of that moment. Everyone else has been helped by you, and now it's your turn to come into your own. I really felt so connected to my character walking into the temple, feeling like everything has been building to this, that regardless of what happens our suffering will finally end. And you have your party there to help you in your time of greatest need as you've done for them.

There's a reason this game was Game of the Year, the narrative is just so powerful and the replay-ability is just insane. I've beaten this game ten times, heading for my eleventh and it truly just never gets old and never fails to make me feel so many things so strongly.

[my-memed-tw-adventures]

Book 3 — Chapter 35

—

Yeah Leona. Could say the same to you bitch

Also the fuck does Jade mean? Azul’s still in shock?? Was he not holding up 8 fingers???? Ahhhhh

—

FLOYD PLEASE

These two really have two completely separate ways to go about the situation huh. Jade is trying to make sure Azul is okay while Floyd is just immediately reminding him how much he just embarrassed himself

—

Yeah fucking I didn’t think it was possible. Azul deserves at least a lil praise for the shit he made cause if even Grim can get an A, who can’t

And Jack’s right. Do your own work friendos. And if you need help, get it from anyone but Azul

—

Ohhhhhh boo hoo Azul. Awww poor baby awwwwww boooooo

This fucking man lol. Just accept the friggin compliments!

—

HAHAHA. Deserved. Jade and Floyd are great. Also bro Azul an NDA? Really??? Bold of you to assume that would stop them

—

NAH HAND THAT SHIT OVER AND LEMME LOOK AT CUTE LITTLE AZUL BABY!

I’m very sad there’s no official smol Azul or tweel photos *starts manifesting baby art in the Octavinelle manga*

—

HE IS SO CUTE! I JUST WISH I COULD SEE IT!

Also I have no idea what Ruggie is saying. Is he just saying Azul’s a little chub? Cause the whole “holding the pic at an angle” bit confuses me

—

Yeah I wouldn’t have pegged Deuce as the one to be so passionate about Azul’s desire to bury his cute chubby past.

—

Yeah, Azul! God when did Grim learn to say smart things? Also damn Azul is dedicated to getting rid of every photo. Though I assume his mom has an underwater scrapbook somewhere with a bunch more photos

—

*pat pat* Yeah please don’t be too hung up, Azul. Past is the past. Mans really needs to not let his cute little chub self get to his head because he’s a completely different person now and goddamn he needs therapy just like everyone else

I love Floyd too. Azul has just gone through what’s probably the most embarrassing moment of his life and Floyd over here talking about how nommy Azul used to be. Never change bro

Masterlist

[princess-of-the-corner]

Any thoughts on how Mic & Aizawa got together in CC? Like, did they start dating in high school? After they graduated? Was there a painful pining phase that made all their friends want to kill them?

OH GOD SO LIKE

I hinted before that it was a poly thing with them and Oboro(who was probs the one who asked them out if Midnight didn't watch them all pining and smack them upside the head) and like.

They did get together in high school and that was mostly just some normal pining and such but also due to the Oboro situation that went sideways for a bit.

Oboro's death kinda. Hit them hard in different ways and swung between finding comfort in each other but more often than not it was just. A lot. For them to be with each other.

Mic is handling things.... decently. He's more bottling everything up and it /will/ come out one day but he's just kinda trying his best to move forward while Aizawa is kinda lost in grief. And that does kinda fuck them up because Mic is upset that Aizawa doesn't seem to be trying to make progress while Aizawa's in the 'how dare you try to move on' thing. (neither are right or wrong here but god do they need therapy)

They didn't explicitly break up, but they weren't exactly together anymore.

And then I'm like. I'm speedrunning Aizawa's character development so that a lot of it happened pre-Canon of him like. Coping by overcompensating. Pushing himself too hard. And eventually taking out his anger on people who aren't pushing themselves to the same unhealthy extent in the same unhealthy ways

Ms. Joke was kinda the first target in this, given her entire persona is about being goofy and all so when given close proximity... but she's also got thick skin and is a determined motherfucker and is like "I can fix him!" (baby girl please your taste in men is awful)

This continues for a while and even into Aizawa's first year as a UA teacher where he just starts randomly expelling any student he feels isn't extremely dedicated and taking it seriously. Which is, ultimately, all of his students within the first like month. Because they're dumbass 15 year olds who are mostly trauma-free ofc they're gonna good off and not buckle down and be serious all the goddamn time.

Nezu is like 'look I love some chaos as much as anyone else HOWEVER you need to get your shit together because I can't have you expelling literally all of your students. PLEASE get therapy!'.

Which does piss Aizawa off for a bit. Because he's heavily projecting. He lost someone. Any of them could die at any moment they need to take this seriously and prepare for it! They're here to be Heroes not have fun! Not taking things seriously will get them killed!

This does swing back around to Ms. Joke who does end up snapping at him of just like a 'god don't you get it? People have to have fun and goof off and be fuckin happy sometimes or else they're absolutely miserable and probably just want to die!'(she might like being silly and all but humor is /also/ a coping mechanism for her)

And it's.... yeah just her snapping and pointing that out does kinda. Hit. In having him realize that 'oh I'm very much Not Okay™'.

Which gets him to actually get his ass some therapy so he can help process the grief and the whole like. You're allowed to take a break, you're allowed to be happy and do things that aren't serious when you don't have to be on the job you don't have to be paranoid 24/7 that someone else you love is gonna fuckin drop.

After a bit of this he does meet up with Mic again to talk on just. Everything. Kind of apologize. Mic def hits his own breaking point here too. And they need to do a bit of work but GOD do they miss each other.

Slowly but surely they work on themselves and each other and by the time of CC they've gotten to the point where they're married now and while they still have some hiccups they're a hell of a lot better.

ofc we get the added 'oh hey your dead boyfriend is actually alive but was kidnapped, experimented on, given amnesia, and has been forced into villainy for the last 10+ years and for bonus points he's a dilf now' drama later