#i cant wait to play her in league | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

instnewt · 11 days ago

Note

A CHALLENGERS WRITER OMG IM SCREAMING!??!?!

Can I request a art donaldson x reader smut where art is just an obsessed pathetic perv (which is basically just art in general) and reader just teases him constantly?

Can I at least get your number? - Art Donaldson x Reader

pairings; college!art donaldson x fem!reader

summary; you find yourself alone in a hotel room with Art, who cant seem to get enough of you, but has no idea what to do about it.

warnings; mdni, 18+ only, SMUT, virgin!art, overstim (m!recieving), slight edging (m!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), orgasm denial (m!recieving), sub!art, porn w a plot, slight brat!reader, reader is basically tashi duncan, art is smitten and touch starved

wc: 2.1k

a/n; i'm not sure how i feel about this, and i kinda just looked at the challengers script to start it off because i love love love that plot. i also haven't written any fics like this in ages so bear with me.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

This morning, you stepped onto the court for a high-stakes singles tennis tournament, and by the time it was over, you had wiped the floor with every opponent in your bracket. A smug grin danced on your lips as you left the court.

That moment marked the first time he had ever even heard of you. Sat on the bleachers, watching you play as if you were the first woman he had ever laid eyes on, was Art Donaldson and his best friend Patrick Zweig.

Patrick had brought Art to see your match with nothing but praises from his mouth. Knowing his friends type, Art had only shrugged it off. This girl couldn't have been that great.

Boy was he wrong.

"She’s in another league, she’s beautiful." Patrick said.

"You mean her game?"

"No, I mean she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen."

And right on cue, you step onto the court, the announcer's voice ringing out in the background. Both Art and Patrick lean forward in their seats.

To say they both had boners by the end of your match would be an understatement.

Now, you stand at your own celebration party, sipping your drink and talking to some well wishers as an awkward duo approaches you. They stand there full of nervous energy, waiting for you to notice them. When you do, they both put out their hands at the same time for you to shake them.

"Hey, I’m Patrick Zwei-"

"Art Donald-"

"I know who you guys are," You say with a grin.

They both retract their hands, surprised.

"Fire and ice, right?"

"In the flesh," Patrick responds as Art blushes in embarrassment.

"You were… fucking incredible." Art adds. "Thank you."

You three conversed - or rather, they had buttered you up with compliments, until Patrick cuts the conversation off.

"Hey, do you smoke?"

You look at him, surprised. "Cigarettes?"

"Yeah." "What an incriminating question to ask at a tennis party." He smirks, taking your response as a yes. "Do you wanna get some air?"

You glance at Art, who is looking at Patrick, annoyed. You understand that these two boys are deeply smitten with you, and you decide that you're going to have some fun with it.

And thats how you end up in their hotel room, playing a game of truth or drink, half-empty beer cans littering the floor between you. They both flirted relentlessly with you for about an hour or two, until Patrick had to call it a night.

"You're right, that is a cute story." you say as you finish your beer.

You look at Art, who watches you like a lost puppy. He looks so pathetic and adorable, which is part of the reason why you've decided you like him more than the other boy. You can feel your gut heating up by the minute.

The ding of a message pierces the silence, startling the three of you. Patrick reaches into his pocket, bringing his phone into sight and reads the text.

"Shit, I uh.. I gotta go," He says, standing up off of the floor.

"Is everything a-" Art tries to ask, before Patrick swiftly cuts him off.

"Yeah, yeah," He says, throwing on a hoodie and making his way to the door. "I'll be back, don't wait up." He says before leaving the room.

The two of you now sit on the floor, dazed and confused. You bring your knees to your chest as you watch Art awkwardly shift his position as well.

"The fuck was that?" You ask.

"No clue."

A grin plays across your face as you look to the ground. Relishing in the awkward silence before Art makes his move.

"You're um.. you're really pretty by the way. I don't know if I've said that yet but, you are."

And that was it.

Moments later you were stood up, leading Art to the hotel bed. As you sat there, legs dangling off the side of the comforter, you noticed Arts knee bouncing up and down, his painfully hard and growing erection clearly visible in his pants.

"Kiss me." You say.

"What?" He asks in a voice that was so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"I want you to kiss me." You repeat, and Art almost faints on the spot.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed, then back at you.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

He's quickly leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, and he kisses you with innocent eagerness. He places a light hand around your waist, pulling you gently against him. He gasps softly against your lips, his heart racing wildly. you take control of the kiss as you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at, slipping your tongue in his mouth -- the innocent kiss soon turning into a full make out session.

Your hand moves down his neck, making Art gasp softly, his fingers digging into your waist as his tongue becomes bolder in your mouth.

He was practically on top of you at that point, so you push him back until he sits against the headboard, straddling his lap leaning into his flushed face to resume the kissing. He quickly places his hands on your waist, one of them moving up to the hem of your shirt and pushing it upwards slowly.

"You want me to take this off?" You whisper, breaking the kiss and Art's gentle touch gives you goosebumps.

Art looked at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips slightly. "yes, please…"

You smirk and grab the hem of your top, pulling it off your body. He let's out a shaky breath as he sees your bare torso, not expecting you to have been without a bra.

"Have you ever touched a girl before, Art?" You questioned, breaking his lingering gaze.

He swallowed hard, his adams apple bobbing up and down.

"No, I... haven't" He admitted, aching to touch you.

"Don't be shy," You whisper with a smile, grabbing his hands and placing them on your breasts.

Art stares at your face closely, eyes filled with lust as you place his hands on your breasts, squeezing gently. His thumbs hesitantly brush against your nipples, causing them to harden instantly.

"You're perfect," He breathed out, his words causing a wave of heat to crash over your body. With the way he touches you, as if he's worshipping you, makes your panties grow wetter by the second.

"I know." You mutter, squirming in his lap.

Art lets out a gasp as he feels your body grind against his crotch. He leans in, kissing along your jawline and down your neck, nipping softly as he goes.

You play with the hem of his shirt, and he immediately gets the hint, leaning back and pulling off his shirt quicker than he ever had before. Immediately he goes back to it, kissing at your neck before moving down to your chest.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his tongue lapping at one of your hard nipples. He groans as you reach up to tangle your hair in his blonde curls, sucking gently on the hard nub.

His hand moves eagerly between your legs as he slips his finger underneath the fabric of your shorts and panties. He rubs his fingers hesitantly over your pussy, not knowing exactly what to do with them next.

You hum at his action, then grab his hand and withdraw it from your panties. He gives you a confused look as you get off his lap and sit next to him, pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs. His breath hitches in his throat as he sees you completely bare beside him. He quickly shifts down the bed and reaches out to trace his finger along your upper thigh.

You grab his hand, leading it toward your heat and he's quick to draw small circles on your clit, causing you to lean your head back in pleasure.

He smiles proudly as he see's you respond to his touch, his digits pick up speed, pressing down on your swollen clit and receiving a moan from you in return as your hips buck into his touch. He leans upward to capture your lips in kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth which he had learned from you earlier. His finger slides down your slit, searching for your entrance and slipping it inside, feeling your slick coat his digits as he thrusted in and out.

"Is this okay?" He breaks the kiss, a hint of nervousness still lingering in his voice.

"Mhm, fuck" You curse as he adds a second finger, your pussy tightening around them as you feel your orgasm building.

you reach down and grab his wrist, stopping his actions.

"Take off your pants."

Art instantly leans onto his back, arching it slightly and pushing his boxers down his thighs, just enough to free his aching erection before you're on top of him, climbing onto his lap just like you had before. His breath catches in his throat, the sight of your wet pussy just inches from his cock making him shudder in anticipation.

He almost came on the spot.

With a release of breath, he places his hands on your hips. You grab his cock and place the tip against your entrance, causing an involuntary moan to leave his lips. You slowly lower yourself onto him, not being able to help but moan as you took him inside you.

He groans, hands moving to cup your ass as he begins to instinctively thrust up into you, making you bite your lower lip.

You ride him slowly at first, his dick reaching all the right spots inside you. He shudders as he bucks up into you, his fingers digging into your ass so hard that you're sure it'll leave bruises. You were so fucking tight, and he was so hard, the friction almost too much for him to handle.

"F-fuck." He curses.

You smirk as you watch him, helpless beneath you as you ride him. You tug at his hair, tilting his head back to suck on his neck, leaving a mark in it's wake. His eyes roll back into his head as he feels you tighten around him, thrusting into you desperately.

"Naughty boy," You whisper in his ear, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

You look back at him, completely flustered, cheeks flushed and blonde hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

He groans, sliding one hand down to sloppily rub your clit, the other hand still on your ass.

"Don't stop, please," He breathes, his hip lifting up to meet every downward thrust of yours.

He whimpers, cock throbbing inside you aching for release. The sensation of his dick pounding into you along with the stimulation on your clit making you weak in the knees.

"That's a boy," you praised him, struggling to keep up the pace while riding him as pleasure swarms your body.

Art's eyes flutter shut. "Oh... fuck, i'm cumming," He moaned, pursing his lips together.

"Hold it," you demand, voice hard, "Not until I do."

He moans in frustration, shaking his head as his hips shudder into you, "Please.. I cant."

"Just a minute, baby, almost there," You assure, as you clench around him.

You continue riding him until you finally fall over the edge, letting out a string of moans as your body shakes in pleasure. You lean your head into the crook of his neck, your hands gripping at his shoulders as pleasure washes over you.

"Mmm, ok" you hum, "You can cum."

As soon as he gets permission, he cums with a loud whimper, almost a cry, shooting his thick seed inside you with long spurts. You milk his cock as you both ride out your highs.

You're both a panting mess, leaning your forehead against his as you both try to catch your breath.

After a few moments, you push off of him, eliciting a small gasp as you slide off his cock.

You push off of the bed, grabbing your clothes and redressing yourself, Art doing the same as he pulls up his boxers, a dumbstruck look on his sweat dripping face.

"A-are you leaving?" He asks.

"I uh, I should go before your friend returns," You smirk and bite your lip, grabbing your keys and bag and make your way to the hotel door.

"Can I at least get your number?" He calls, at a loss for words.

"See you at your match tomorrow," You reply before exiting the room, leaving Art with another growing boner, an unbelievable story for Patrick and a hickey to prove it.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

119 notes · View notes

pupkashi · 2 years ago

Text

the worst part of dating gojo? how often he gets hit on

a/n: hi hi friends !! thank you for the request and sorry for taking so long </3 i hope you enjoy !!

wordcount: 1,293

masterlist

warnings: general feelings of insecurity and jealous

youre trying your best to keep the tight smile on your face, your hands are bunching up the hem of your t shirt to stop your nails from digging into your palm.

“you’re just too funny satoru!” the girl giggles, her hand almost hitting his bicep, he’s chuckling dryly, but you’re seeing red and don’t notice how he looks at you for help.

“your arms are so toned! i can’t imagine how strong you are” your jaw is clenched, you don’t bother excusing yourself as you leave and head for the restroom.

locking the door you’re fighting back tears, the lump in your throat burning with the insecurities clawing their way up. you aren’t even sure who she is, all you knew was one of your friends invited her and they ditched the bar twenty minutes ago.

all that was running through your mind was how much better she was than you, each of your insecurities picking at your brain. the vibration of the phone in your pocket brings you back to reality.

the brightness of the letters satoru ♡ cause you to wipe your tears away, reading the message and typing back a quick reply.

where’d u go?

had to pee, almost done

when you reach the table again, satoru looks almost relieved that you’ve arrived, opening his arms and practically pulling you into his lap.

“you guys are just sooooo cute together! i cant believe y/n managed to find someone so out of their league!” the backhanded compliment has you clenching your fists again, shoving yourself off your boyfriend and settling into the booth with a tight smile on your face.

gojo looks at you before looking at the girl again, he’s giving her a right lipped smile before he’s ushering you to stand up.

“i cant say i had a good time, what was it again? Camille?” she looks hurt as she repeats her name, satoru only waves her off, “yeah yeah whatever, we are gonna head out because you’re terrible company! hope to never see you around” he’s giving her a dazzling smile as his arm loops around your shoulder, practically pushing you away from them.

when you reach the car satoru is staring at you, waiting for you to say something, anything. he’s watching how you fix your hair nervously, the way you’re avoiding eye contact and how you’ve gona radio silent, bouncing your leg and picking at your nails.

“sweets please say something” there’s a slight pleading tone to his voice and you almost cave in.

“I’m fine satoru, can we please just go home” you mumble, your knees facing the window and your voice soft. you can practically hear his frown as he drives home, his music playing softly as the night replays in your mind.

jealousy courses through your blood as you remember how she touched your lover, how she touched his arms and chest falling him ‘so strong’ when you were right there. your jaws clenched, and your knuckles are white.

a sigh leaves your lips when you recall how nicely her dress fit her, how great her hair looked and what a perfect body she had. she looked like someone gojo would actually want, why would he want someone like you?

“we’re home sweetheart” his voice is soft, as he opens his door, rushing to the passenger side to open your door. you only mumble a thank you before walking past him and unlocking the front door.

Gojo’s hot on your heels, calling your name before he finally gets frustrated with you ignoring him. there’s a firm grip on your wrist and he’s pulling you to his chest, his free hand going under your chin and forcing him to look in his eyes.

“talk to me, please”

“there’s nothing to talk about!” you reply curtly, heading for the bedroom and changing out of your clothes, washing your face and brushing your teeth quickly before gojo can join you.

“did you have a good time? you were real quiet, missed your voice” he mumbles as he slips under the covers. you don’t reply, afraid if you do your voice would crack, both out of anger and the tears you’re fighting back.

“your friend was” a pause, “nice.” you roll your eyes at his words, scoffing before throwing the blankets off you and moving to get your phone and head to the living room.

“y/n!” you turn around quickly to face him, your eyes teary and your hands shaking a bit from anger.

“what? you wanna get her number? talking to her again so she can try and feel you up again?” he tries to walk closer to you but you only back up. “no! go ahead, im sure you’d prefer her much more than me” you growl, “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

satoru only stands there shocked, never had he heard you so angry and sad about something, your voice had never been that cold towards him. then it clicks in his head.

you were jealous.

it didn’t take long for him follow you into the living room, he didn’t care that you were already starting to make yourself comfortable on the couch.

“i don’t give a fuck about her sweetheart, i don’t even know her name and i hope i never see her again” he sighs, picking you up from the couch and carrying you bridal style to the bedroom.

“put me down!” you shriek, punching his chest in hopes he’d let you down, but his grip only tightened. he only put you down when he throws you in the bed, pinning your hands above your head with ease and hovering over your body.

“i only want you, i have only ever wanted you and no one is gonna change my mind, my love” his words are sincere and you feel guilt creeping up on you.

“I’m-” you’re cut off by his lips on yours. it was the kind of kiss that leaves you light headed from how much love is behind it, the kind that wraps you in a warm blanket of love and makes you feel safe.

“you have nothing to be jealous about i swear to you” he mumbles, “there’s no one more perfect for me than you” another kiss to your cheek. “she’s not even near as pretty as you so don’t even try using that line on me” he says, smirking before he loosens his grip on your wrists, letting you sit up.

when you do r bother getting up satoru lays next to you, his arm draping over your waist, his hand snaking it’s way under your shirt and settling snugly at the dip of your waist.

“sorry for being so-” you pause as you search for the word, satoru wastes no time to finish your sentence for you, “green?” he smiles, kissing your jawline and you pout.

“yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. your heart clenches as you see the loving look in his face, like you’re the only person in the world.

“‘s okay, kinda nice to know you’re still getting jealous” your brows furrowed at his words, “makes me know you’re still in love with me” he winks and you roll your eyes.

“all it does is inflate you’re already huge ego” you retort and he smiles, peppering kisses on your face as you giggle.

you’re both quiet for a second, wrapped in each others arms. it’s with you when satoru’s the calmest, his breathing even as you run your fingers through his snowy hair.

it’s you he lets in, let’s you cuddle and kiss him to your hearts content. it’s with you that his guard is down, that his infinity is off.

it’s only with you, because he only loves you.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru drabble #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x jealous!reader

3K notes · View notes

heeseungismymanz · 4 months ago

Text

𝑀𝓎 𝒲𝒶𝓎

Synopsis: You and heeseung have been dating for about 3 months now. You both were the most popular people on the entire campus. It was all fine until you two got in a fight because of his ex. But now you have to go your own 𝒲𝒶𝓎.

Mentioning: All of enhypen (heeseungs friendgroup), yunjin lsfm (y/n bestie), yunah illit (heeseungs sister and your bestie), karina aespa (y/n bestie), keeho p1h (y/n brother), yeji itzy ( heeseungs ex ),more..

°•More under cut•°

Pairing: Popular bf!Heeseung x Popular gf!Fem Reader

Taglist: @mitmit01 @mimisxs

BOLD = CANT BE TAGGED

Warnings: Cursing,Fighting,love language is pt so will hug,cuddle alot,nothing much,idrk! (this specific chapter might be cringe)

SFW MINORS ALLOWED!!

𝑀𝓎 𝒲𝒶𝓎

Thinking about it you realized you met him at Yunah's party. That was the day you met the Lee Siblings! Also when he met you and asked "I like you can i have your number?" Remembering that you decided to relive that moment and started replaying the memories.

You were at Yunah's house and she asked you to grab somethign from her room. You didnt know that the room on the right was hers and you went to the left. Oh boy did you know what was happening in there. You walked in to the room on the left and walked in to see some random group of hot dudes all playing League Of Legends. You did NOT expect that. "Oh sorry, but what are you doing in Yunah's room?" You asked the group of boys. Wow you were stupid. "Uh this is my room.." You tilt your head as you look at the boy who said that. His room? Who is he? "Uh who are you?". Are you dumb though? "Wow thats a new one. I guess ill introduce myself. Im Lee Heeseung." Holy shit bro. You never seen him but heard about him. Your in THE LEE HEESEUNGS room. "Oh sorry-" you tried saying before getting cut off. "Its fine your Yoon Y/N right?" Heeseung said. How did he know? "Oh yeah." You say shrugging. "Oh your Keeho's brother right? Your the most popular girl" Someone else shouts. "Oh uhm yeah!" you say trying to leave the room but they keep talking to you. "Im Jake." Oh so the one who said your keehos brother is Jake. "Dont be friends with him! Hes a loser and a bop. Im Riki." oh, so this is a competition about friends. "Yah! Dont say that Riki, your making yourself a loser! By the way im Sunoo :)" wow. so your gonna assume the other 3 are Sunghoon, Jay, and Jungwon. How do you know this? Yunah told you about them, plus you've seen them. "Oh well ima go bye!" You said while looking at Heeseung. He was smiling and you might have smiled back. You walk into Yunah's room and grab her hat like she asked. "Im back!" you yell walking down.

"What took you so long Yn?" Yunah asked you. "I got a little distracted" Wait when did he ask you out? That night lasted FOREVER. Oh yeah when you went to grab a jelly shot he and his friend group was there. You tried grabbing the jelly shots from the cabinet (why were they there?) but failed. You were lowkey embarrassed. "Here i got you." Someone says pressing his body against your while reaching to get it. You turn around "Oh thanks hee-" you got cut off AGAIN. "Your welcome princess. By the way your really pretty!" Heeseung says while smiling at you. "Oh thanks" You say and all you can hear from behind was "OOOH~!" bro- anyway. "I like you can i have your number?" What do you say? A really hot,tall,pretty guy just asked YOU for YOUR number. "Yeah sure!" You say and dial your number into his phone. "Thanks" He says then you walk away. You go back to Yunah,Karina,And Wonyoung. "Heeseung just gave me his number now what do i do?" You looked annnoyed but was not. "GIRL ARE YOU NOT EXCITED?! YOU GOT LEE HEESEUNGS NUMBER!" thats all you remembered so then you went to the next party and then the next hoping to see him until one day

You were at Jake's party and they were bumping loud music and you were lowkey over-stimulated. The people everywhere you went were loud and someone noticed it and pulled you to the side. "Hey you okay? You dont look so good" It was Heeseung. "Oh yeah just over-stimulated." you reply. "Yeah, Sometimes it gets too loud."

< Previous - Masterlist - Next >

AN: Did i just leave yall like that. YES. It was short cause i lowkey feel sick and literally am throwing up. But i hope you enjoyed this so far. We are halfway through this FF woooo!

#enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung ff #heeseung imagines #heesung enhypen #lee heesung x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #heeseungismymanz

34 notes · View notes

nicohischierz · 11 months ago

Text

right where you left me: brandt clarke

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hisch you want to join the taglist let me know!!

warning: death, pregnancy

when someone mentioned the name brandt clarke, people immediately think of the unique laugh he held.

the laugh gone unheard ever since that night.

february 14th.

the day of love. the day that was made to be celebrated with the one you love.

all of that didn’t matter to brandt anymore as he had nothing to live for.

he didn’t have anyone to make dinner reservations with or to buy chocolates, that he’d end up eating, for.

the one thing that didn’t change was that on the 14th of february, brandt clarke would always buy a bouquet of flowers for the girl that held his heart.

you and brandt met through his teammate alex. the older boy being a good friend to your brother and him keeping an eye on you.

alex’s intention of introducing the two of you was purely to help each other settle into being away from family. he never expected that would blossom into a wholesome relationship.

everyone remembers the smile on your face when you and brandt made it official. the pair of you walked into a kings event hand in hand with smiles spreading from ear to ear.

it was the happiest your brothers had seen you in a long time.

brandt fit into your family quite easily.

with your brothers in the league alongside him, brandt found conversation easy to carry out and his open personality made it hard not to be his friend.

moments spent with you were the happiest brandt could ever be. those moments topped the ones he made on the ice.

“this is my boyfriend brandt, he plays for the la king,” you introduced your boyfriend to your parents and brothers.

jack, quinn and luke shook the boys hand and welcomed him into their group. jack and luke already knew his brother so it was only quinn that didn’t know the boy at all.

but alas, after spending the summer together and visiting each other during games, the hughes brothers formed a strong bond with brandt.

a bond that continued after everything.

the brothers weren’t the only ones that loved brandt. your parents did too.

ellen and jim hughes were ecstatic to meet the boy that captured their little girls heart.

they met brandt when he surprised you with a bouquet of flowers after coming back from a road trip. the kings had only landed an hour ago but the boy drove to a flower shop before going home just because he missed you.

that was how your relationship with brandt was.

it felt like a dream that neither of you wanted to wake up from.

but brandt’s dream turned into a nightmare in a matter of minutes.

february 14th was planned to a t.

brandt had ensured that you were pampered throughout the day before meeting for dinner at one of your favourite restaurants.

sometimes, he felt like he was still there sitting in the corner before his phone rang.

“hey babe, i’m just heading to the restaurant now. i cant wait to see you, i love you!”.

“hey babe, it’s raining real bad so i might be a little late but i’m almost here, i love you,”

when his phone ring with an unknown number he answered.

“hello?” he answered.

“hi is this mr brandt clarke?” the nurse asked.

brandt gulped.

“yeah this is he,”

“sir i’ve got one y/n hughes who was rushed to the emergency room and you were listed as her emergency contact. would you be able to make it to los angeles general hospital?”

brandt agreed and slowly got up from the table. before entering his car, he called your brothers.

“she’s in the hospital and i’m going to see her now,” he told them, not explaining anymore.

jack sent alex to follow brandt in order to know more about his sisters situation.

“i’m here for y/n hughes,” brandt went up to the front desk. alex had met up with him at the hospital and promised to be by his side.

“mr clarke, i’m so sorry but miss hughes didn’t make it,” the nurse expressed solemnly.

brandt felt the room spinning as he grabbed onto alex. the older boy almost buckled under the defensemen weight as well as the shock he experienced.

“she experienced some complications during labour …”

the nurse was cut off by alex. “she was pregnant?” he whispered.

the nurse gave a sad smile. “we believe she had a cryptic pregnancy as she had no idea either,”

“is the baby okay?” brandt asked.

the nurse nodded. “we’ve got another doctor doing some check ups but she seems to be doing well.”

alex and brandt let out a breathe of relief.

the two boys went back to their own apartments and awaited the arrival of your family.

ellen was quick to pull brandt into a hug as she sobbed for her daughter.

quinn gave the boy a sad smile. he knew of the velvet box that would’ve sat inside brandt’s jacket. the way it felt heavier after the news.

“she was pregnant.” brandt announced.

“it was a cryptic pregnancy so neither of us knew but she named the baby callie before she passed,”

ellen sobbed even harder and grabbed brandt’s hands. “whatever you want to do, we are here for you,” she reminded him.

callie was a carbon copy of her mother.

they had the same features and personality but most did say she got her laugh from her father.

on your birthday, brandt took callie to visit your grave with ellen and jim. callie was only a couple months old but she knew inside that this person was important to her and her family.

ellen took callie off brandt’s hands for a couple of minutes, in order to allow him some time to talk to you.

“callie looks just like you. i figured out why you named her that too, callie for california, the place we met.” he paused, looking up to the sky.

“sometimes i think i’m still at the restaurant waiting for you to walk through the doors. i remember the corner i was sat in and the feeling of dread when i got the call,” his voice wavered slightly towards the end.

“i just miss you so much and sometimes i’m stuck right where you left me,” he sobbed.

#brandt clarke imagine #hughes sister imagine #tw death #tw pregnancy #nicohischierz writes

65 notes · View notes

omi-papus · 4 months ago

Text

Light The Lamp

Part: 2

Fandom: Subnautica

Pairing: Robin x Al-An

Ao3 link

Content: Age difference, ADHD x Autism, Ableist slur, Ice Hockey AU, Human Al-An AU, Drug use, Eventual smut

Summary: Rookie ice hockey player Robin Ayou stuns the league with a controversial but impressive debut, catching the eye of popular YouTuber Alan Silvester. Known for his hockey insights. After an awkward first encounter, he begs her to feature in one of his videos. And she after thinking shes found her new babygirl cant help but agree.

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Hey guys. I managed to get this out at a decent pace I think, this fic is a lot easier to write than some of my other projects so I can balance it with Uni a lot better. Here we have more of the idiots being themselves.

She completed the interview. Robin stood firm even when faced with questions like, “How do you plan to avoid being a hindrance to your team?” No matter what, she wasn't going to cave and walk out.

Now she's wondering if that would have been the less humiliating option.

The second they finished recording, she stormed out, not saying a single word to either of the men in the room, and went straight to the gym. She doesn't know how long she stayed there, but all she could think about was what a waste of time this had all been. The dinner, the recording, the time she had spent planning her answers and all she could say to make the interview good, the time she wasted on him. Because she thought none of it amounted to anything. That the interview footage was unusable and no one in their right mind would have thought it was good enough to be released. That it would all be deleted, and they would pretend they never met. Oh boy, how wrong she was.

“AND WHEN DID I TELL YOU YOU COULD FUCKING DO THAT?!” Coach Maida yelled at the entrance of the arena, not minding for a second who else was there to hear her. Robin knew exactly what she meant the second she started yelling because she had seen it too. She forgot to unsubscribe from that godforsaken channel and saw the thumbnail that very morning. It had her nearly foaming at the mouth, and boy had she considered running up to that office and chewing him out. But she had training that day and did not want that fucker taking up any more of her time and brainpower than he already did. And lo and behold, her coach had caught wind of everything and was currently in the process of tearing her a new one.

“ARE YOU AN ACTUAL TODDLER?!”

“I wasn't expecting him to just insult me like that!”

“Oh no, he had every right to insult your piss poor playing. What you should have done was NOT throw a tantrum on camera!”

“I had to defend myself! I couldn't just sit there and take it and embarrass the team!”

“YOU EMBARRASSED THE TEAM WHEN YOU BROKE YOUR FACE ON LIVE TELEVISION!”

Robin couldn't respond to that and just gritted her teeth, holding onto her stick with enough strength to possibly break it.

“I should have kicked you out when I could…” the woman grumbled. Robin would have been scared if she hadn't made that exact threat multiple times and never followed through. She looked down at the floor. At that point, Coach Maida had stopped talking as well and just stared at her, waiting for a response. It took a minute for Robin to simmer down, to hold back from screaming and crying about what had happened in that interview and why it wasn’t her fault. She had to think about something else.

Her next words were soft, almost achingly resigned, but her eyes had that one last spark of confrontation as she locked eyes with her coach.

“Sam won’t be mad if you do. You know that, right?”

Marguerite’s expression did not change, but she didn’t answer. A cold breeze came in through the open door of the building, and the sounds of the other players whispering among themselves cut through the tension like glass. A grunt could be heard from the coach before Robin winced as she received a quick hit to the back of the head. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the coach walking away from her and into the rink.

“What are all of you staring at?! Get ready and get on the ice in five minutes! You’re doing triple laps today! You can thank Ayou for that!”

Robin could barely process the sounds of her team heckling her as she felt a certain weight in her chest grow heavier

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was the last to leave the locker room, still in her underwear, going through her phone. She had meant to unsubscribe from the YouTube channel but quickly found herself unable to look away from the comment section of the newest video.

"Like all women. Basically children."

"She should not be playing if she’s this sensitive."

"She just mad nobody wants to fuck a masculine thing like her."

"Bro thinks she’s good."

It went on and on. She was trying her hardest not to look at Twitter. She could only imagine what the rhetoric would be there. It made her blood boil.

The Alterra Giants had requested a rematch. It would be in only a few days. She would fucking show them. Every single one of them how great of a player Robin Ayou was.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The puck slid out of her reach far too quickly for her to attempt to redirect it. Then, pathetically slowly, it moved away from her before she was pushed to the side and had to refocus her energy on regaining her balance. She stopped herself from moving too far away, getting back into hot pursuit as quickly as possible. She could feel her pulse in her ears. Her trajectory had changed to herding the action back to the left of the rink. The opposing winger was cutting across center ice, trying to get a clean entry into the zone, but Robin was determined to force her wide, to keep her from getting any closer to the middle of the rink. With a burst of speed, she closed the gap, angling her body to cut off the winger’s path. The opposing player saw her coming and tried to make a quick move to the outside, but Robin was ready. She threw her weight into the check, sending the winger off balance. The puck popped loose.

The game was tight, the score tied 3-3, and her team was down to their last minutes in the final period. Every pass, every shot, every hit mattered. The Alterra Giants seemed to have fixed themselves overnight, always having at least two players specifically countering her.

She had to feel flattered.

The center was in position near the slot. Robin’s eyes flicked to her. This was it. She sent the puck screaming across the ice, a laser pass threading between two defenders. Her teammate caught it cleanly and wound up for a one-timer. Robin held her breath. The faceoff was in the offensive zone now. Robin skated into position. She locked eyes with their captain, who was lining up for the draw. They had a plan, the captain would tie up the opposing center, and Robin would swoop in to pick up the loose puck. If everything worked perfectly, they’d get another shot and a goal.

The puck dropped. The captain did her job, tying up her opponent’s stick. Robin surged forward, her stick darting out to grab the puck. She had it. She snapped a quick shot at the net, low and hard, hoping for a rebound. The goalie blocked it, but the puck bounced out into the slot. Bodies crashed together as everyone scrambled for the loose puck.

The opposing winger, a speedster with a nose for breakaways, found the puck and chipped it past the defense. Robin’s heart sank as she watched her own defensewoman hesitate for a split second. just enough time for the winger to take off. Robin turned and sprinted, legs pumping furiously as she tried to catch up. But it was too late. The winger was already across the blue line, alone on a breakaway. Robin could only watch as the forward closed in on their goalie, faked a shot, and then lifted the puck top shelf. The red light flashed.

She didn’t truly remember what happened after that. “4-3” was her last coherent thought.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is hideous, dear, you really ought to change the way you arrange these.” The woman began taking out plates and placing them loosely on the table. Alan stood at the edge of the kitchen, staring firmly at the ground, knowing that if he dared to look up, his brain would shut down. His entire kitchen was in disarray, every plate, cup, fork, and spoon placed out onto the counters and table, many at risk of falling off the edge.

“I’ve taught you how to organize a million times. You are a grown man. You don’t have excuses to be this messy. The cups should go in the top drawer, not the bottom right one, and the pans need to go closer to the stove.” His mother opened one of the bottom drawers and began pulling out the one pot and pan, and with no more space left on the counter, she put them on the floor. “I want this all reorganized by the end of the day, Alan. I am not letting you live like this.” She finally looked back at him as she pointed to the mess around her, and she was fuming when she noticed him looking at the ground.

She let out a deep sigh and massaged her temple. “You’re lucky I’m so patient. I don’t even want to look at your room. I can’t imagine that it’s organized either.”

“It is organized.”

“Don’t talk to me like that! I’ll go see for myself. You stay here and fix this mess.”

She walked past him, and he shuddered. He finally had to look at what she had done, and when he did, he felt his entire head heat up with stress. He held back from putting everything back where it went, knowing that it would not please his mother. He tried to remember what she had told him. The only "right" way to organize, and began rearranging as much as he could according to her rules. He tried to think of his childhood kitchen and how that was organized. Normally, it would be easy to replicate, but the layout of the kitchen was different from his current home, and he wasn’t sure how to make it equivalent in the "right" way that wouldn’t get him another angered lecture and his kitchen torn apart again. Distantly, he could hear the sound of cloth being thrown from down the hall. No doubt his mother had already begun dismantling his closet. He had moved all his hockey paraphernalia to his office for this exact reason.

Because it wasn’t the first time she had done this. Show up unannounced and invite herself in. Sometimes she was only judgmental of his lack of decor and the general subpar aesthetics of his one-bedroom apartment, commenting on his habits, like how long it took him to shower on the days she arrived before he had to head out, and where he placed his coat when she came at the end of the day. But sometimes she did this. Dug through every drawer and crevice in the house, found something she disliked, and then took out everything and told him to put it all back the "right" way.

It wasn’t that Alan was disorganized. He loved keeping his spaces tidy, clean, and in perfect order. He had created multiple systems of how things should be stacked, folded, and stored and hated when anything was out of its assigned spot. Unfortunately, his mother was never a fan of his ways of doing things and insisted that everything should be done based on how her household, when she was a child, used to run.

This had been a battle they had fought for as long as he could remember. It was an immovable object meets unstoppable force scenario, two equally obsessive people steeped in their own ways and unable to accept anything else. Alan would arrange everything to his mother’s liking, wait for her to leave, which might take multiple hours, and then put it all back, until she showed up again. It was a cycle that periodically would steal up to an entire day from him. Sometimes, he’d have to call off work to Ryley because he had to either entertain his mother or reorganize everything again.

Alan used to think he would be free to have his house the way he liked when he had his own, but his mother’s incessant visits never let him know peace. In half an hour, the kitchen was mostly presentable. He could only hope she wouldn’t undo his work twice. He didn’t have to guessshe had already told him she was angry with him, for missing her call all those weeks ago and for making a scene at that restaurant. He knew from experience that her anger would last at least another month at this rate. And he guessed that Robin’s anger would last forever.

He was smart enough to tell that she was furious. The way she conducted herself in the interview was proof enough. And the way she had left, so quickly and violently, was unnerving. Ryley had suggested, nearly begged, that he not post the video. He didn’t know why Ryley was so adamant, as Ryley had always been pretty detached from anything Alan did outside of what directly affected him. Unfortunately, Alan had promised his viewers an interview with Robin Ayou, and he couldn’t back down from that. But it really was a disaster. She refused to answer multiple questions, and the ones she did, she fought him at every step. She was obviously very upset with what he was asking her.

He had told her to notify him if she had a problem. Why didn’t she? He had given her every question. None of this should have happened like this. At least not on camera. She was clearly surprised by the questions, and it was apparent she hadn’t read the list he gave her, and that made him more upset than anything else. That he had planned everything out perfectly and it was all sabotaged because she just felt like it. Like his way of doing things was stupid and didn’t deserve consideration. Just like his mother was doing now.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a loud thud followed by what sounded like a crack. Quickly, he put down whatever he was holding and scurried over to his room, where he could see three things.

His mother stood in the corner of the room, looking visibly shaken his bed was filled with now unfolded clothes, thrown half-heartedly around, and his headset was on the floor, the shell on the left speaker broken and detached from the headband, the cushion having detached as well.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry! They just fell out of the closet, I didn’t know they were there! Oh my God, I broke them! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m a terrible mother who breaks my son’s things! I’m so, so sorry, Alan.”

His feelings toward the broken headset were quickly derailed by his need to calm his mom down.

“It’s alright. It was an accident. Go sit down. I can get another one.”

“I didn’t mean to do it, I’m sorry!”

“I know, Mother. Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

This went on for a solid twenty minutes. And it was only after two hours that she finally left, and he was faced with the fact that he had to replace the now broken headset.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin stood still against the bathroom wall, fighting the burning sting of tears yet again. Every time she thought her anger had subsided, it bubbled up again like magma, and she could do nothing but grit her teeth and hold back from punching a wall.

She had told herself she would not look at social media after their loss, but, like with seemingly everything in her life, she failed. Twitter was swarming with comments about not only her team but her specifically. The connections made between her performance and the interview were plentiful. She remembered the scolding Coach Maida had given her, and even that didn’t feel close to the sheer anger she had felt in her bones when she saw that scoreboard.

She pressed her forehead against the stall wall, fists tight and jaw clenched. She was only a month into her professional career, and all of this was happening. She couldn’t help it. The gut punch of regret, coupled with an all-too-familiar helplessness, made the tears threaten to fall again. She had to mentally recite a mantra to herself, reminding herself why she was doing this, why she chose this path.

You're good at this. You're good at this. You. Are. Good. At. This.

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose quickly when she heard a knock at the stall door. She had been in there for a good ten minutes, moping. Hastily stepping out, she made her way to the sinks and splashed water on her face. Looking at herself in the mirror for a moment, she wished she were home right now. The only reason she hadn’t hotboxed her room and smoked herself stupid was that she was completely out of groceries and had nothing to eat for either dinner or tomorrow’s breakfast. She was starting to regret not ordering takeout, but her budget was getting stretched thin, and she knew this was the healthier option. The closest grocery store was attached to the main mall in the area, so that's where she was. Stores would be closing soon, so she had to hurry.

It was because she was speed-walking that she only half-registered a white blur move past her. Her instinct, however, was strong enough to tell her to stop and turn around, knowing that properly identifying it would be important.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alan should have, by all means, waited until at least tomorrow to purchase another headset. Or better yet, he should have ordered it online and waited. He had most of the month's videos already recorded and could have honestly just recorded everything on camera with the whiteboard instead. But he hated waiting, and he also just needed to get this situation out of his head before it made his brain explode with rage. Needless to say, he was furious, because of everything. The broken headset had just been the final push between his mother's visit and the recent interview fiasco. He felt like he would lose it if he didn’t fix the one thing he could control in this situation.

He never liked malls very much, few things interested him, bright lights and loud sounds abounded. It wasn't unbearable, but he certainly wasn't fond of it. He was walking around, searching for an electronics store that looked like it sold more than cheap chargers and phone cases, in hopes of getting a half-decent headset to serve as a placeholder while he waited to get another identical to the one he already had. He knew that wasn't the wisest financial decision, but he simply did not care at this point. He walked along with his head facing the ground, just thinking about how much better it would be once all of this was behind him. That was until a very loud noise pierced his ears, and he turned around to recognize a person stomping toward him.

“YOU!”

She had quickly pinned him to the wall, pointing at his face, her finger dangerously close to his chin.

“You motherfucker!”

He was never great at identifying facial expressions, which only made the vibrant anger in her eyes even more noticeable. It took him a whole five seconds of staring before he processed the eye contact, became uncomfortable, and looked away.

“Oh no, you look at me, you piece of shit!”

Her hand was already on the wall to the left of his head, leaning in way too close for comfort. He only took tentative glances at her, slowly shuffling to the side, away from her. He was thankful she didn't outright grab his face.

“I said look at me, dammit. Can you at least treat me like a person?!”

That confused him, his eyes still on the pillar to the side of them.

“I have never indicated I don't see you as a person,” he mumbled unsurely. He nearly felt her huff exasperatedly on his chin.

“Are…” She seemed almost choked for a short second before frowning at him again. “Am I supposed to believe you're just stupid?”

He finally took a step to the side, getting out of her hold. A nearly imperceptible growl escaped her when he did, but she removed herself from the wall and stared him down.

“Am I just expected to believe that you didn’t know how bad all of that would fucking look?! Is that your excuse?!” She spoke loudly but stopped outright yelling.

“I…” He cut himself off, realizing he needed to further think his words through. “I gave you time to contest the questions if you wanted to,” he struggled to say.

“And how did you expect me to react exactly?! I wouldn't have done the interview at all if you were just going to shit on my entire career for thirty minutes straight!”

His hand twitched. “Your career is barely existent. You’ve got one victory under your belt, one that you lost immediately after.”

She visibly fumed. So the shithead had watched that day's game too. Of course, he had. “So then why care about me at all?! If you just think I'm a piece of shit at my job, then what was the point of interviewing me in front of hundreds of people? Do you just get off on humiliating me?!”

They were starting to get looks. Robin noticed this far before Alan did. For a moment, she was self-conscious. She was making a scene so soon after being called emotional and childish for her on-camera outburst. The thought made her so upset that she nearly didn’t care about how those around her might see her. But that underlying shame was still there, that feeling that she was just being dramatic, that she should just suck it up and move on with her life. That she should just train harder and force him to eat his words. But something about looking at him directly set her off. Seeing him there, looking so lost and vaguely afraid, even through the thick facade of his expressionless face, made the barb sink so much deeper into her chest. Betrayed. She felt betrayed. And she felt stupid for it. Because it wasn’t a secret to her that he had quickly endeared himself to her, that she had found him oddly cute and charming. That she had felt that they were friends. She had known him for so little time. She shouldn’t have gotten this attached that quickly. Or shouldn’t have gotten attached at all.

“I thought the phenomenon of how you played was worth investigating,” he said, still facing the wall. Robin had to force herself to sigh. It did not help.

“What? Is my failure just fun to you?! Am I just entertaining because I'm so fucked up at playing hockey that I need to be studied?”

“I think you're taking it personally.”

“It IS personal, Alan! This isn't just my hobby! This is my life!”

“Well maybe play like it, then.” His fists were clenched hard, his brow ever so slightly furrowed. For a moment, Robin was too stunned to clap back. She fumbled with her words for a good few seconds as they kept getting stuck in her throat. The sheer audacity of the statement actually made her return to reality. Him so openly admitting he thought she was shit felt like it put an end to a small fire that had been burning her lungs. It felt like some type of closure.

“I shouldn’t even care. You're nothing but some nobody on the internet. Your own followers are getting tired of you, and you're more preoccupied with shitting on me than getting your mediocre career back on track.”

“You're trying to offend me, and it is not going to work.” He spat at her, looking now at her feet.

“Ryley was right about you. You're nothing but a neurotic freak with an ego up your ass!”

“Listen, I just want to go purchase something. I have nothing to say to you.”

“No wonder nobody likes you. Nothing is ever enough for you.”

That, Robin noticed, lightly changed the look in his eyes. “Listen.” His shoulders tensed, and to her surprise, he turned to face her, still looking at her feet. He took a step toward her, and they were once again toe to toe with each other.

“You have no experience with what being less than enough is like. If you really weren't enough, that coach of yours would have kicked you out a long time ago. I’ve seen her do worse for less. You’ve waved to your loving family at plenty of your games since university.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He should have shut up then, but an unstable cocktail of built-up frustration and anger was making him unreasonable. “Nothing I do is ever enough. Not for my family, not for my audience, not even for my own employee, and clearly not for you.”

Robin only raised an eyebrow, demanding he elaborate. He happily did. “I gave you every single question written out on paper and would have easily sent you a digital copy if you asked. I gave you a week to make the choice, to communicate with me, and yet you said nothing. It was clear you couldn’t even be bothered to read any of them. I would have changed them. I would have called off the interview if it was really that bad. I had everything set up to avoid disaster, but that was not enough. I tell my viewers that I’m going to interview a professional player, but that's not good enough. I lose nearly half of my income to pay my assistant a livable wage by just doing the job he signed up for, and that is not enough. I show my family over and over that I’m managing my life and have found even a little success in what I do, and that is still not enough. It’s never fucking enough.”

Robin blinked, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t what he was saying that surprised her, but how he said it. For all his usual detachment, this was the first time she had seen him genuinely vulnerable. She tried to shake that feeling off. He was the one who had treated her like a lab rat for his personal gain. He didn’t get to turn this around on her now, not after everything.

“That’s your excuse? You’re sad, so you did this to me?” She bristled.

“I am not giving you excuses. I am just simply expressing how I feel since you’re so intent on arguing.”

“What you feel?! What about what I felt?! When you still posted that stupid interview when I was clearly not happy with it?!”

“You didn’t tell me not to post it. You didn’t tell me anything. You just left.”

“And you’re going to tell me you didn’t see I was upset about it? It was obvious, you should have known!”

“Your subpar communication skills are not my responsibility.”

“Oh, we’re talking about communication, how funny. I would have LOVED for you to have communicated that you thought I was a stupid piece of shit instead of schmoozing me up at dinner and texting me like we were best friends!”

He was taken aback by that last statement, finally catching himself staring at her again, this time in sheer disbelief. “What do you mean by that?” he said slowly.

“If you were just going to insult my playing, why did you act so polite, take me out, and… and make me trust you?”

She sounded… hurt by the end of the sentence, her burning ire fading into the background ever so slightly. Alan couldn't decipher it, but he was dumbfounded by the very question.

“Because you’re a person. Even if a messy one, you are still a high-level professional player. And just… because I respect you? I never thought that you were stupid, and I just… Why wouldn’t I?

She was exhausted. She only then realized it. Frustration was starting to burn away at the last of her energy reserves along with her sore arms and bruised calves. She let out a huffy, exasperated noise as she held her head in her hands. It dawned on her what she was doing and how stupid and insane it looked to everyone around her. Was she being childish? She didn't know and only half cared. But she knew then that she wanted this to be over.

“Are you even sorry?” She simply sounded tired now, the tone of her voice significantly higher-pitched than before. Alan was able to sense this, and therefore his own defensiveness lowered, but he still had to take a moment to think about it.

“I do not think it is my fault, but I am sorry it turned out like this,” was all he could say. Robin stayed quiet, looking at him in a way that made him deeply uncomfortable, and he finally had enough.

“Goodbye, Miss Ayou.” It took a lot of strength for him to turn around and walk away, but he finally did, leaving Robin to deal with the stares. The supermarket had already closed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was going hungry tonight. She refused to spend more money on takeout, and Cal had his parents over, so she couldn't raid his fridge tonight. She was almost tempted to ask Sam for food, but the fear that Coach Maida could be the one to answer the phone was enough to dissuade her.

She should have, by all means, gone to sleep already. Her tired body was screaming at her, and her frayed nerves couldn't handle any more, but she just couldn't feel like it. That was very much like her, procrastinating even when it came to sleep. Fuck, she did not want to go to training tomorrow. If only she could call in sick like any other job, well, at least any job where Coach Maida wasn’t in charge. She tried to think of ways to get out of it while boiling some water. She really needed to get a kettle. Busting out the pot every time she wanted to fill her hot water bottle was getting beyond annoying, especially since these days she had to do it daily. Everything hurt. She looked over to her room and heavily considered rolling one out, but it would go to waste if she was just going to fall asleep five minutes later.

In minutes, she was on the couch, a hot water bottle pressed against her shoulder, her phone at ten percent, bright in the darkness. She scrolled past a group chat with her teammates, a message from her mom asking how she was doing, and a few promotional emails from places she'd never shop at. She was in that mood in which she couldn't stay on a single app for more than a couple of seconds, her attention span wouldn’t sit with her for more than that. She leaned her head back against the couch, trying to force herself to relax. Eventually, she decided to scroll through YouTube Shorts since she hadn’t tried that yet. Pretty quickly, that got boring as well, so she began looking through her YouTube feed. Maybe her favorite ichthyologist YouTuber had posted something new today.

Like a bitter metallic taste suddenly making its way into her mouth, a video showed up on the feed that nearly jump-scared her. She sat upright on her couch and stared at the screen. She thought she had unsubscribed from that stupid channel earlier today. Did she really forget to do it then, too? Fuck, she was stupid.

She collapsed back down again. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” she muttered to herself tiredly. The video still stared her in the face. It made her angry. She felt the urge to report it, but she knew that doing that would actually cross the line into being childish. Currently, she was frozen. Something in her stopped her from scrolling along, unsubscribing, or doing anything about the situation that was bothering her. She placed the phone on her chest. She never did watch any videos from him, maybe if she had, she would have picked up that he was an asshole before she agreed to be part of them. And thinking about it more, she felt like an idiot again. She really did just like the idea of being interviewed like a celebrity, regardless of who did it. She never cared about his channel or whatever greater goal he had in mind. She just wanted to feel good about herself. Was that wrong of her? It felt like it was.

His little speech still bothered her. It wasn’t unimaginable that he had his own bullshit going on. Everyone did. Robin was convinced that everyone thought the world was caving in around them half the time. He wasn’t special. Still, she had to feel bad because it was true, if she had just not lost the paper like a moron, this wouldn’t have happened. He said so himself. And, God, she was never going to live down what Cal told her to do. Just ask for the questions again. She had avoided doing it for such a stupid reason, too. And that's the part that bruised her ego the most.

Because she was attracted to him. That had been apparent from minute one. She had wanted to look cool in front of him. She didn’t want him to know she was an idiot. And what hurt the most was finding out he already did. Seemingly from the start, he knew. And she really was stupid, wasn’t she? Her tooth still stood sharp and broken in her mouth, the image of the scoreboard was still seared into her brain.

Why hadn’t Maida kicked her out yet? If she let a boy get under her skin like a teenager, surely she deserved to be left behind with the college kids like so many of the other girls did. She should have never been drafted. This was a mistake. She was just destined for nothing, like all her school teachers had told her.

She curled up on the couch, burying her face against the cushion. She was spiraling again. She needed a distraction, now. She took out her phone and just mindlessly clicked on the video. Fuck it. Maybe getting angry at Alan again would get her back on track. What the video was even about didn’t matter, as long as it was something other than more loud thoughts of self-hate. Alan was in front of a whiteboard with a projection on it. He wasted no time, beginning to scribble and talk at length. Robin immediately recognized the topic, neutral zone traps, forechecking, and counterattacks. She stared at the screen, watching Alan’s hands move across the whiteboard, the slight tilt of his head as he spoke. She was annoyed that even now, after everything, he could still captivate her attention. Pathetic.

The video droned on about the timing of offensive breakouts and how players should anticipate defensive collapses. But then something in the video caught her ear, a mention of adaptability. Alan was saying something about how great players aren’t just skilled at executing strategies, they’re able to adapt to changing circumstances. The ones who succeed long-term are the ones who can read a situation, make quick decisions, and adjust, even when things go off script. She was good at that, she thought. Robin had always been quick on her feet and would thrust herself at any opportunity that presented itself to strike. Heh, she was so dead set on improvising that she had… broken… her tooth. She instinctively ran her tongue along the jagged edge of it, wincing at the reminder. Improvising was her strength, sure, but sometimes it came with a cost.

Alan’s voice brought her back to the video. He was talking about the importance of balance, knowing when to adapt but also knowing when to stick to the fundamentals. "It’s not just about reacting to the situation," he said, his tone calm but firm. "It’s about controlling how you react.” Robin remembered that incident, how it had happened because she flung herself at a loose puck and accidentally planted the toe picks of her skates on the ground and fell over. She hadn't thought about the consequences, about how her desperate attempts to turn the tide were turning into sloppy mistakes.

Robin gritted her teeth. Control. That word made her stomach churn. It was what Coach Maida had been drilling into her head for months now. Her natural instincts were sharp. She’d fight tooth and nail to force a play, to make something happen, but in doing so, she’d lose sight of the bigger picture and…

Her head was starting to hurt. She got off of YouTube, cutting the video off. She stared at the ceiling for God knows how long. Thankfully, she had the loud sounds of cars honking outside to save her from being submerged in the silence. She hugged the hot water bottle. Well, just like he seemed, Alan was smart. Too smart. Too blunt as well. He hadn’t just made his points by themselves. He had provided examples for every single aspect he was discussing, heavily criticizing a number of players in the process. She let out a deep sigh. Alright, maybe it wasn’t personal. She still found what happened in the interview incredibly rude and insensitive, especially with how little faith people naturally have in female hockey. But she supposed he just didn’t consider that. It was weird, actually, how little he cared about that fact. She looked through his recent videos, and the last seven of them were all about female games, even if she noticed that those had fewer views than the previous male-led ones.

A sudden urge to ask him about it popped into her head. It was just a fleeting notion, but the fact that she had just thought of texting him about why he liked female hockey like that caught her off guard. Like she hadn’t just sworn off ever thinking of him again a few hours prior.

“Uuuuugh, nooooooooo…” she whined lowly. Watching that video had done something for her. She just saw him, so focused and objective, that she finally had to realize that Alan was just some guy. He loved hockey like an obsessive little kid who cared about the game itself so much that people's feelings just slipped his mind. Could she really be that mad at that? He himself had admitted to her that he was autistic, and- no. No, no, no, no. That was NOT an excuse. Never had been, never would be. But what, she just wasn't mad at him anymore? What was she supposed to do with that? She didn't just want to forgive him. But… he wasn’t malicious. He was… blunt, obsessive, maybe even careless, but not cruel. She was almost certain of that now. Maybe she was infantilizing him, but that was better than considering him a shitbag. Robin remembered what he had told her, that although she was messy, she was still a professional. Did he always feel that way about her? How she felt now? So lukewarm and weirdly disturbed by the existence of a grown adult who was so… clumsy. Her with her feet and him with his words.

She briefly considered that her brain might just be looking for excuses to let things go so she could fawn over him again. It was at that moment that she made a choice. If she was going to go anywhere with this relationship, that attraction had to go. He wasn't some irresistible supermodel. Most of what appealed to her was just that he was taller than her, which most men weren't. He was decently polite, but she had gotten a good enough look at his personality to realize that the soft boy sweetheart persona she had built up in her head was far from the truth. She had been into her girlfriends before, and she got over that. Yes, this was the right choice. She could do this.

Now the question was, did she want to continue their relationship? If she even could, he looked pretty pissed at her too. But if they made up, what would become of whatever they had? Well, first of all, any more videos were off the table. But that had been the only reason they even met in the first place. The only reason he approached her, and the only reason she followed along with the weirdo that ran to corner her in the street. She huffed. Well, at least they were even cornering each other in public. The point was, what else did she want from him?

She thought about it while scratching dirt from under her fingernails, and rather easily, she had her answer. She felt bad for him. Not just because she screamed at him in public, but because of everything. Like she said, he wasn't special for having his own emotional baggage, which he had revealed to her seemingly on impulse. But still, even before that, he had such wet dog energy. When they were on good terms, he would text her incessantly, like he had no one else to talk to. She had a suspicion that was the reason he invited her out to dinner instead of just forwarding her the questions via email. And now she knew that he was aware that Ryley, his only work colleague, thought badly of him. Adding that he also briefly mentioned having family issues, something Robin had never been familiar with.

If she wasn't going to be his friend, then no one else would. And something about her hypersocial brain wouldn't let that go. Was she really going to let go of all the humiliation and anger to adopt a thirty yearold man? Fuck, she needed to broaden her hobbies.

She lay down comfortably again and put a pin in that thought. She was being hormonal or something. She had just finished tearing his ear out. She couldn't just call him up and be like, Hey, sorry, let’s be friends. She wasn't a saint.

Looking at her phone with five percent battery left, she decided she had enough of videos and hopped on Twitter. Robin had fought for her life to keep her Twitter hockey-free. She had enough of that shit on the daily. When she had phone time in bed, she would prefer to look at videos of Cuddlefish. Well, until a few days ago, of course. Following Alan had completely thrown off her algorithm, if only because of how much he tweeted. She should have known that she couldn't avoid him here either. There were just old threads of arguing until she got to the top, where she inevitably came across his most recent tweet and…

“Let it be on record that I do not condone the misogynistic and degrading comments made about the athlete Robin Ayou as a result of my video.”

Suddenly, it was quiet even on the street outside. Without thinking, she clicked on the thread and continued reading.

“While I stand by my analysis of her play, it’s important to separate criticism of performance from personal attacks. I respect Robin as a player and as a person, and any comments attacking her have no place in the discussion.”

He hadn’t tagged her in the tweet. Maybe he thought that was him being respectful, but now she wished he had. At least then she could have responded, said her piece, and maybe even defended herself instead of just being some invisible target. She looked at the time it was posted. Ten minutes ago. So after their spat at the mall. Even after all of that…

She buried her face in her hands. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…” she groaned. She stood up, back pain be damned. She stomped over to her room and plugged in her phone, not waiting for the little sound to ring before going into her contacts and searching for a familiar name. Alphabetically, it was the first. She put the phone to her ear as her breath caught in her throat. What was she doing? Whatever it was, she had to do it now before she lost her nerve or her pride swallowed her alive. The phone was already ringing, so there was no going back now.

The sound permeated for an unbearably long time. A small part of her was hoping he wouldn't pick up. That she could tell herself that she tried and that it was him who rejected her.

The ringing stopped.

“A-”

“I will have you know that it is only legal to claim defamation if the statements made are both false and damaging to your reputation. I have extensive proof of all my claims and proof of your consent to-”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! No, no, no, no, no! I never- I don't- what?”

“I would urge you not to allow this to go to court.”

“Alan, I am not trying to sue you!”

“Then what do you want?”

The words suddenly got caught in her throat. For what felt like an eternity, she was unable to say anything out of sheer nervousness.

“Miss Ayou, this is considered harassment.” His voice never wavered once.

“No! Wait! Fuck! I just- I’m sorry!”

“What was that?”

“I- I- I” She sighed harshly. “I’m sorry, Alan.”

“Okay.”

Robin blinked. That's it? Okay? She nearly said that out loud. A short silence followed before she realized it really was on her to make this count. “I did take it personally. Too personally. I know now that you're like that with every player, and I shouldn't have accused you of trying to hurt me.”

“Because I wasn't.”

“I know. Listen, I was being irrational back there at the mall. That wasn't deserved. I shouldn't have made a scene like that.”

“Is that it?”

He was really going to milk her dry, wasn’t he? “Alright, I'm also sorry for the interview. It… it was stupid. I should have done something more productive than just digging my heels in like that.”

“Miss Ayou?”

She wished his voice would soften even a little but knew that even if he was in a good mood, it almost never did.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you read the interview questions?”

She dragged her palm across her face, hunched her shoulders, and held back a groan. He noticed. Of course, he noticed. She had no choice but to rip off the band-aid now.

“I… I lost the paper…”

Where had the cars outside gone? She couldn’t deal with this silence!

“Are you serious?”

“Yyyyyep…”

“You’re not messing with me?”

“Why would I make this up?” She sounded like she wanted to jump off a pier because honestly, she did.

“I just…” That was the first time she had ever heard him lose his words like that. It was honestly intimidating.

“Why???” His pitch heightened in disbelief. She swallowed hard, she couldn't decide if this was going better or worse than she had expected.

“I just put it away and then I couldn't find it.”

“Are you one hundred percent certain?”

“Yes? I know it's the dumbest shit you've ever heard, but that's what happened.”

She could hear fiddling on the other line. He must have started to pace.

“And… why… didn't you ask for a copy??”

She briefly couldn't speak again. Her face was burning, and it was making her dizzy. What did she expect to say here? I had a crush on you, so I didn't want to embarrass myself? Well, yeah, that exactly, but for the sake of her sanity, she would omit some things.

“I didn't… want you to know that I lost it. Because… well, like I said, it's stupid, and I didn't want you to think I was an idiot for losing something so simple.”

It was his turn to struggle to speak for a couple of seconds. “I- Robin, what you did is much dumber than just asking for them again.”

“I know!”

Alan, on his side, had in fact been pacing around his room, eventually, he had to stop and sit back on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair and fiddled with his shirt collar for several seconds before thinking of how to continue. Robin was waiting for a response, as she had fallen silent, save for the occasional short squeal of frustration that would come through.

“So this was all a misunderstanding then.” He didn't sound completely sure.

“Ugh, I mean no. It's mostly my fault. I'll take that, but it's because I wouldn't have done the interview if I had known what the questions were.”

Alan sighed. "So you went into the interview blind. And now you’re apologizing after wanting to kill me four hours ago."

"Yes! I get it, okay? I’m an idiot. I didn’t plan for it to spiral like this."

"That’s an understatement," he muttered. There was a pause.

"You didn’t have to make that interview so brutal," Robin said, more quietly now.

"You expected me to go easy on you?" Alan’s voice was incredulous.

She was going to implode. “Well, when you put it like that, I look like a little bitch.”

“What do you plan to do when criticism like this comes to you again?”

Robin buried her face in her free hand. “I’ve gotten worse, just not in front of a bunch of people, man!”

“You're twenty three, you'll recover.” He attempted to comfort her, but it only agitated her more for reasons unknown to him.

“D-don't treat me like a kid!” Her face was flushed, and her ears got hot.

“I never did. I simply meant to say that you have the rest of your career ahead of you.”

She brought her knees to her chest, her voice coming out much softer than either of them had anticipated. “So what? Do I just have ‘potential’ and nothing else? Is that how you see me?”

This time she could hear him breathe through the phone. “I'm not that important, Robin.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, and she mentally kicked herself for caring so much again. She was taking too long to answer, so he did in her stead. “I don't understand. Are you upset because you found the video defamatory or because you think I dislike you?”

Even through her pinkish-brown skin, the dark red of her blush could show through. That was a good question. The obvious answer was both, but if she looked inside herself, she could find which of the two dug at her ego the hardest.

“It's not like we're even friends.”

And she was not about to be honest about that.

“I suppose not.”

They were both quiet for a long time. It didn't feel right to hang up, but neither could come up with something more substantial to say.

She cleared her throat. “Look, I didn’t call you to- ugh, whatever this is. I just wanted to say sorry for blowing up. I… I get that you were just doing your job, and I need to stop making everything personal.”

“Good,” Alan said flatly.

Robin felt her heart sink just a little, even though she’d expected him to say something like that. What had she been hoping for?

“I just... I don’t want to be on bad terms with you. That’s all.”

“Bad terms? Robin, this wasn’t personal. I don’t go around trying to make enemies of people.”

“Well, you got pretty personal back at the mall with that little spiel about your life.” She said with a certain venom in her voice. This was supposed to be an apology, but she refused to pretend like she was the only emotional one in the situation.

He choked for a second, almost dropping his phone in the process. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded more than a little strained. “That was an oversight.”

“And what? Do mistakes only have consequences when I make them?”

He hesitated for several seconds. “And what consequences am I supposed to suffer then?”

It was Robin's turn to stall. During the span of five seconds, she went through all five stages of grief for her pride and finally settled on what she wanted. “I want you to forgive me.”

He blinked a couple of times. That was a much simpler request than he had expected. “I already did.”

“Forgive me like you mean it.”

“How am I supposed to prove that?” He was utterly perplexed, even if he didn't fully convey it.

“Everything has to go back to normal between you and me. Back to the random blocks of text at 3 PM. Back to asking about our day. No more videos or interviews in mind. Just talk, like normal.”

Alan was close to short circuiting. This took a turn that he never could have expected. “But like you said, we are not friends.”

“Well, fuck you, you’re my friend now.”

“What? Do I get a choice in the matter?”

“Nope.”

“You can't do that.”

“Sure can, white boy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

“Talk to you tomorrow, Al. Good night.”

She hung up, leaving him more confused than he had been in his life. What?

#subnautica #subnautica below zero #robin ayou #al-an #al an #al an x robin #fanfiction #ao3 #hockey au

7 notes · View notes

autisticbokutoenthusiast · 6 days ago

Text

live blogging the first lovb game ever!!!

i payed 12 dollars for a month to watch this you better not piss me off espn!!! (spoiler there is ads...)

some notes on the stream/league itself

i like the color of the court!! the main reason i dont watch italian league is i cant look at the court like its just a me thing it hurts my eyes

the camera work isnt as good as vnl BUT for a brand new league its better than i thought it would be. we dont get to be nosy in the timeouts or anything but pretty good quality

ok the get to know the players page on the lovb website.... im sorry but it was made for me me and my vball player obsessed ass will be reading everyones favorite food

on the one hand im not immune to wanting to know the tea but i couldve done with more commentary on the match rather than the players and their life stories BUT its game 1 so i dont mind

i wish there was a bit more stats. like instead of ads breaks seeing the breakdown of ball and set placement after sets would be nice

the match itself:

so its salt lake v atlanta and follwers will know ive been waiting months for the washington kojima duo and washington isnt on the court 😭 and neither is my girl piyannut

cassanova 👀 ok ive got my eyes on you

is dani drews related to annie drews or is this the craziest coincidence of all time like theyre both opposites and lefties

oh the assistant coach of usa is head coach of salt lake 👀 is this lead up to head coach of the womens team 👀

listen kojima is back on my screen im so happy rn

anne-marie saying kojima was surprised at lovb only having 2 hours of training compared to 12 in japan. fascinating

the way salt lake hug on top of kojima cause she cant reach 💀 my short queen i love you

the anouncers keep saying which colleges players went to idgaf i dont know these places 'byu' who is that 😭

im happy to see cuttino again. i was bummed she didnt go to paris but i get to see her here <3

casanova scoring the set winning point ikdr

kojima holding hotpot night where the team cooks together oh im tearing up

hold up anouncer just said gabi was suppoed to be on the atlanta team. ummm gabi gabi lik GABI like theeeeee gabi??!?!???! ohhhhh im gonna pretend i didnt hear that (if it really is gabi guimares were talking about she wouldnt have passed up italy like lets be fr about it sjkdfdlj)

kojima all over this court and casanova unstoppable ooo when washington gets back salt lake finna be trouble

atlanta hasnt found their grove yet. maybe if they put piyannut in 👀

PIYANNUT IS HERE I REPEAT PIYANNUT IS HERE

notice how piyannut comes in and suddenly atlanta is ahead mhmm mhmm

atlanta taking a set once piyannut was out there AHHH i cant believe shes playing a few thousand miles away from me rn

sorry im not actually commenting on the playing im too focused on th plays to comment on them sjflkdsjfk maybe once im more familiar with the players

LISTEN piyannut v kojima was one of the things i was most looking forward to when they were anouncing athletes and low and behold its mzing to watch im so happy rn

the washington wasnt on court and yet had 2 iconic camera moments sjflsdkj

anyway congrats to salt lake!!!

all in all im really excited for this league to get going! i hope this ushers in a golden era for us vball. i cant wait till we get to the point in the season that i recognise players and team playstyles

#lovb #league one volleyball #abe watches volleyball

4 notes · View notes

iloveshuri · 4 months ago

Note

you guys expect so much from these damn teenage girls 😭😭 if somebody says paige is playing awful use would not be happy and don’t even tryyy cos paige got as much privilege as Caitlin and j cant wait until YOI see that in the league 😭😭 I love both but some fans are way to hypocritical

wtf are u saying? caitlin is a 22 year old woman😭

the difference between me and other ppl is that i know my fav can have bad games. ppl were thinking caitlin would go into her first playoff game and drop 25 or something 😭

this has nothing to do with paige or privilege u just yapping bro

#wnba #caitlin clark #anon

6 notes · View notes

hairscare · 2 years ago

Note

i dont know anything ab vivziepoop or whatever her name is and her work but could you give some examples and like. maybe explain how far they are from actual demonology? i love haterisms and i love learning things

kisses you on the mouth id love nothing more than to spread hate and infodump abt demonology. let me preface this by saying ive never watched any of their content so i cant speak on much besides what ive absorbed via osmosis of being on the internet and what i can see in their designs

so my special interest has always been on the 7 Princes of Hell aka the 7 Deadly Sins so thats what I'm gonna focus on. I'm also gonna bring beloved otome game Obey Me into the mix for another example of modern interpretations of them. also keep in mind im not a believer in these figures, though my research comes from both christian and pagan sources, i just like them a lot

so lets start with Mammon, the prince of greed. mammon is always depicted as a very money and power hungry kinda guy. in heaven, he was so obsessed with the golden pavement that they kicked his ass out first. hes super powerful and has 6,660,000 demons under his control that he makes build the capital of hell called Pandemonium. im not making this up demonology is silly as hell. hes associated with wealth, gold, jewels and emperors.

you may be surprised by this interpretation from the dictionaire infernal, but from my understanding/perspective, i believe this is supposed to be a lure to get more money as a begger? normally hes described as decked out in robes and gold and jewels and all that. but you can see in the illustration the bags of money.

so yeah hes like a super money hungry emperor type- in my mind i always kinda think of trump ngl. power hungry, money hungry, you get it. so if youre like me, for a character design, youre thinking a ceo with lots of expensive clothes and jewelery.

now, lets see what our friend viv has to say-

... they made him.... a clown? keep in mind, i literally know nothing abt the role he plays in the show, but... why? why is he a clown? if anything, him being a jester is the opposite of the typical emperor depiction. like a king vs a court fool. completely erases the whole idea of his greed for power. part of that greed is that he already has it but he wants more! this jester angle doesnt make sense.

okay, now lets look at obey me. theres a lot of things i dont like abt obey me's interpretations, but theyre so much better than vivs.

first of all, the white hair and blue eyes are actually accurate! the colored illustration above of begger mammon is actually colored wrong, hes often described as having very light hair and icy blue eyes. this interpretation of mammon, while yassified from the old man and the emperor, is fairly faithful. hes obsessed with money, hes constantly stealing money from other people, he wears the most expensive designer brands, and he has gambling issues. its not perfect, but hes clearly based on the demon mammon.

now Asmodeus. asmodeus has always been my favorite. hes the Prince of Lust, but he himself isnt horny. he teaches people Forbidden Arts and Crafts and also geometry, hes a disabled king (walks w two walking sticks), he likes messing with people and he hates the smell of fish liver. one time he threw someone 400 leagues and stole his identity. what a guy

asmodeus is particularly monstrous. hes got 3 heads, a bull, a demon, and a ram, hes got a duck bottom, and he has a dragon cat service animal. i think hes beautiful <3 but you can see a lot of potential symbols you can incorporate into a design! all these animals, esp his three heads, are just waiting for a cool design. so vivs, whatd you do?

... okay. hes... kinda got the heads, but its the cowards route. he has... that weird ass body that vivs loves to give men. theres... some feathers so he kinda has bird symbolism? im pretty sure he owns a casino, which is actually accurate. but like. thats #notmyasmodeus. this guy couldnt throw me 1 league if he tried. hes not monstrous looking at all. his legs are thinner than my patience.

since we couldnt really dissect viv's mammon, ill bring this up here. a big issue i have with these designs is that theyre afraid to make demons ugly on purpose. dont get me wrong theyre all ugly as hell. but not gross. not monstrous. these sanitized tumblr sexymen designs completely betray what makes the original designs so fun. asmodeus doesnt have 3 heads, he has one that looks like an evil sesame street character. the design is simultaneously trying way too hard and so fucking generic. literally if you take out the two tiny head motifs in his... hair? theres no indication that this is based on the demon asmodeus

okay, lets look at obey me.

again, hes sanitized, hes conventionally attractive, and he doesnt have any of the demon asmodeus' symbolism. hes also super horny. he doesnt do geometry or arts and crafts or even own a casino. not faithful to the source at all.

before you accuse me of being a hypocrite for liking obey me, hold on. let me get through beelzebub.

Beelzebub is known for being "lord of the flies". its literally what his name means. i cannot emphasize enough that he has fly motifs. he is the Prince of Gluttony, aka overindulgence. its typically associated with food. but beelzebub is *extremely* powerful. in Paradise Lost, hes Lucifer/Satans right hand man. all other demons respect him immensely. hes supposed to be so powerful that summoning him is supposed to run a high risk of seizures and death. he also fucking loves architecture. when a ton of demons were called on by solomon to build, the other demons were so appauled that beelzebub was being made to do manual labor, but his crazy ass was giving solomon building advice

hes a bug! hes big beautiful bug. the crowd cheers. so the motif is kinda obvious here. i mean, its kinda hard to miss it, right-

what the fuck. what the actual fuck. "but grim shes got a bee motif-" shut the fuck up. this... fox? wolf? furry thing needs to be put down asap. i genuinely think theyre using beelzebub as an bad excuse to introduce their kesha dog character. bro what the fuck thats not a fucking bug. thats not even a goddamn bee. i hate it here

i cant do this anymore show me obey me.

hes a fucking fly thank god. sure hes conventionally attractive but hes not a dog with the smallest waist ive ever seen and disproportionate birthing hips. he eats all the time bc hes gluttony. okay fine whatever as long as hes a fucking bug im ok

so. lets address why i like obey me and i hate vivziepops interpretations. first of all i just fucking hate vivziepop so jot that down. but more importantly, obey me doesnt pretend to be anything it isnt. its a dating sim. of course the characters are gonna be hot and fit into archetypes. ive made my peace with that. besides, the game actually makes their sins pretty interesting by showing how they affect their personalities, motivations, relationships and lifestyles. its not super faithful, but its not supposed to be.

but helluva boss isnt trying to do that. from my (admittedly limited) understanding of it, its supposed to be a dark comedy gritty adult animation. the characters are supposed to be questionable and unconventional because theyre literally in hell. so i ask the question: why are they so afraid to lean into that with their character designs? why does everyone have to have barbie proportions? why is no one (purposefully) unpleasant to look at or monstrous? its sad to see a creator trying so hard to make something thats supposed to be graphic and brazen in its depiction of hell and demons, and yet is afraid to actually confront the conventionally unappealing aspects of the source material, or even touch the motifs of the demons

i love the 7 princes of hell. if you want to read about the strangest characters with the oddest stories, symbols and trivia, go read some websites about them. none of it makes sense. lucifer and satan are the same person but also not and sometimes the other 5 are also the same guy. belphegor is in love with paris and is the infernal ambassador to france and has a toliet wheelchair. satan is depressed. lucifer is sometimes depicted as an whiny brat child and sometimes as a humongous terrifying beast. leviathan does jack shit and just boils the ocean and eats boats. its literally so much fun. also please feel free to add onto this! demonology is fun in part bc theres so many different interpretations and facts from all over the place that make it a wild ride

tldr: vivziepops designs are lazy and unadventurous when it comes to their source materials

#hair scares #demonology #long post #vivziepop tw

56 notes · View notes

myapathyhaspeaked · 7 months ago

Text

man some gender roles are just self fulfilling prophesies arent they?

(i am a white afab in america and can only speak for this perspective)

oh women are just naturally suited to domestic labor? guess we'll make our daughters cook and clean and take care of their little sisters while our sons take out the trash every once in a while. well wontcha look at that, the girls are so talented with the windex while our boys can barely remember to clean out the dryer lint. see ladies, this is why you ought to stay home and let the men work.

oh little girls are so much work, so demanding, just wait til their teenage years, i mean the rebellion and the boys! little boys are so much more easy going, even if they take a while to mature. and gosh, look at suzy, crying that she wants this dress and that toy because she's a child and doesnt know what money is yet, see she's such a brat, just keep telling her no and she'll learn to never ask for anything. oh timmy wants this bike? sure timmy, no need to cry, we'll take that dent in the budget, look how happy he is on it. emma don't get mad when your brothers bug you, they're not as mature as you. why dont you ever talk to us? why dont you respect us? what do you mean he harrassed a girl at school cus we never reprimanded him for breaking boundries and called him our handsome ladies man his whole life? no honey you cant have a boyfriend. sure son, go get her, oh look we placed him next to another baby but shes a girl look at them his little girlfriend. what do you mean youve been dating him in secret? wow, she's so timid and meek, never talks, so ladylike. and gosh he's so rambuctious, almost like he's never heard of a consequence.

oh little girls shouldnt play with science kits and medical toys, what little girls want to be scientists and doctors? boys dont want to play with dolls, give him an action figure or a toy car, and dont even let him look at pink. and wow, what do we see here? a huge imbalance in stem fields, the medical world, mechanics, and nerd culture. and men who will go up to the cashier and ask if there is "boy peptol bismol" because he doesnt want something pink.

girls care so much about their image, wonder if that has anything to do with mommy playing dress up with them and brushing their hair even when it hurts, screaming at them if they pull away cus they wont their little girl go out looking like a birds nest, and that society has deemed their looks as half of their value? boys are so into sports, wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that dad impressed his son into the little league team cus he used to be such a slugger it's in his blood, and that his dad always had his buddies come over and watch the game while mom brings him another beer?

time is a flat circle and society is an ouroboros that ceases to exist if the snake ever spits its own tail out.

#watched to many vids about boymoms and women complainging that they love having sons cus they dont have to dress them up in pink bc they #hate pink for totally not internalized misogyny reasons like NO YOU CAN DO THAT WITH GIRLS TOO! THE POLICE WONT COME KNOCKING AT YOUR DOOR #CUS YOU PUT ASHLEIGH IN A BLUE SHIRT! YOU HATE YOUR LITTLE GIRLS FOR THE GENDER ROLES YOU ASSIGN TO THEM! AND OF COURSE YOUR SON IS LESS #DEMANDING! YOUVE NEVER BEEN TOLD TO EXPECT HIM TO BE! YOUVE NEVER BEEN TOLD TO WAIT TIL HE GROWS UP AND YOU HAVE TO PREPARE FOR THE HORMONE #my knowledge about what girls are told vastly outweights what i know boys are told i have a brother but i wasnt paying attention to him i #was running through the story i made about my stuffed pteradactyl again #this is not considering anything trans or enby or intersex (bc i cant speak for people who grew up knowing they were “different” in #their formative years/have a relationship with gender beyond i cant be bothered to fuck with it) bc mainstream society doesnt consider that #gender #childhood #gender roles #the mushroom man speaks #i am really tired my dad got mad at me for asking what my options were when he asked what i want for dinner and that i should know whats in #the pantry dude most of the stuff in there is not dinner food its 95% snacks and idk what's in the fridge bc i dont go in there just tell m #if you got noodles or something

5 notes · View notes

boomcomplains · 1 year ago

Text

For my mental health, I’ve decided to stop hoarding my stories for publishers that don’t want them in the hopes that I “make it big.” All it means is I never get to share myself with anyone and that’s not the point of art. The point of art is to share and create, not accumulate and build fences around it.

Publishers only know what people wanted, not what I want, and if I want more of this in the world I need to have the courage to share. So, please see below for my short story about Io and Daphne starting a trauma-survivors support group which ultimately leads to Cupid getting his ass kicked in a Newcastle pub.

Anyway, like or reblog if you feel like it. If you saw yourself in it, tell me what struck you most. I want to talk to you.

Title: Atheists Anonymous

Author: Boom Baumgartner

Word count: ~5500

TW: Cussing at swans, toxic male culture, trauma, probable misrememberings of what it was like to live in Newcastle

Snippet:

There were few things everyone in Leazes Park could agree on. Even though it was a nice day, it was too sunny for some and too hot for others. The breeze was simultaneously welcome, too cool, and an irritation as a reader on a park bench struggled to keep her book open to the correct page.

The woman who strode in from Richardson Road didn’t look like she would agree with anyone about anything. A large gold ring pierced her septum, and her dark eyes were goat-like, with their horizontally long, narrow pupils. Contacts probably. She was dressed in a worn satin jacket with the words “Atheist’s Bowling League” scrawled across the back, torn jeans and clunky ankle boots.

She frowned at the swans coasting across the gentle waves of the lake with suspicion. When one came too near, climbing out of the water with an accompanying splash, she stomped her foot and bellowed at it. Cowed, the swan hurriedly turned back to the lake, and swam all the way across it. All the while, the woman glared at it with her arms crossed.

While the day was a fine spring day, the mom who watched her children playing on the water sculptures thought it was still a bit too cold to be out and about. The drunk students were too queasy to think about the park at all. The football fans heading to the angular stadium looming on the edge of the park were anxious about Newcastle United’s chances. No one agreed on anything, except for one thing. Everyone, from the old man fishing placidly in the small lake to the Chinese tourists taking selfies next to the lion statue, agreed: the woman with the nose ring and bizarre contacts was strange.

The woman may have known this. May have guessed it, in fact. But thinking about those sorts of things did very little to interest her. So, regardless of what people thought, she made a straight line for a delicate tree on the edge of the path circling the lake.

“Hey, long time no see,” she said, her voice high and chipper. She waved her hand toward the tree in greeting.

The tree, predictably, did not answer back.

Unperturbed, she continued to talk to it. “How long have you been in Newcastle?” Then she affected a Geordie accent, lilting, friendly and a little bit slurred. “You know, ‘doon the toon.’”

The only response the tree gave was the rustle of its long leaves in the afternoon breeze.

“Come on, Daph, I know it’s you.” Then the woman kicked at the ground and sighed dramatically. “There aren’t any bay laurel trees on the fifty-eighth parallel. If I’ve noticed you, someone else will.”

Still, the tree said nothing. The woman canted her hips and crossed her arms, almost like she was a primary school teacher waiting out a temper tantrum. Letting out an exasperated breath, she took out a thermos from the khaki bag that hung over her shoulder.

She poured out brown liquid into the lid, and held it out to the tree. “It’s your favorite. Dittany,” she said in a wheedling voice.

When the tree did not reply, she shrugged and sat down next to it. For the next hour, she sipped on the tea, and stared up at the leaves of the laurel tree. While the trees around it struggled to bloom this early in the year, the laurel tree was already almost impossibly green.

No botanist had walked through the park yet to remark on the strangeness of this particular tree being this far north, nor at the earliness of its spring growth.

The strange woman drained the last bit of tea, and with a sigh, replaced the lid back on the thermos. “Let’s have a cuppa another time, yeah?”

Without waiting for another answer, the woman left.

#Io #Daphne #Greek mythology #short story #Zeus #my writing #creative writing #trauma #fuck the patriarchy

9 notes · View notes

cardistrymagic · 2 years ago

Text

MI7 spoilers (my long rant)

extremely religious takes on the enemy lmao. i think because i'm a sucker for tech being used in spy movies that the airport scene was my favourite. 1. ethan not being found through the cctv- what a fun intro! 2. benji with the bomb- nice to see him do something...( i mean you made me think him running in the airport trailer scene was important 🙄)

IMF team: luther talked more than he has in other movies and i demand more. thanks. i kinda wish they'd use the team more ig. because they are literal field agents so they can fight? i hope? and the whole train scene benji was just gone like waiting thinking "wow he should be here by now" like LET HIM DO SOMETHING!!!

the fact that the entity has control over lots of techy stuff so benji n luther cant really do much??? makes me sad. like let them talk to each other :( i like the gadgets. i liked the little banter luther n benji had.

lastly- the scene where ethan jumps off the cliff- only women are in his flashbacks?? like i thought we'd established the IMF team as his. family lowkey y'know. it was just like okay...

in venice: white widow wasnt bad i guess. the benji dupe voice- love how it played on ethan's loyalty! i think it showed well how dangerous the enemy was- but for some reason i'm still more afraid of the past villain- lane, due to the many examples and horrors he's actually committed. ig im not into the blue ai enemy.

grace: my one thing is that i get that she might have had to be brought into the team to be safe BUT compared to ilsa, she is a pickpocket. a crime commiter at best. she is not at the level of a field agent (unless plot armour??) . not much fighting skills. to me she's kinda a liability. not to mention her constantly running away like. i was endeared to her at the airport because of her confidence. i get that maybe she becomes aware of the world-threatening shitshow she's been dragged into unwillingly but still. idk if she's cut out for the job. compared to ilsa a literal ex-agent with ties to MI6. even on the goddamn train she didnt really trust ethan YOU almost DIED?! if not for the plot armour of ethan parachuting into the carriage. girl literally almost killed him by handcuffing him to the car like very funny he just saved your life. literally not trusting ethan on the piano scene What? i dont care thats shes a orphan you've literallly been through so much. with ethan.

one second she's like not able to do much besides throwing a key around. on the other hand she can fight knife to knife with a super skilled killer (gabriel) like what? a citizen thrown into stuff out of her league-driving a car (she cant) playing a good white widow (id forgive her for never doing this ever) and the train (ok thats fine) like i just dont see the value of her being in the team besides being able to play. a woman? which im sure the og team could do to be honest. . can grace shoot a gun?

btw i feel like her relationship w/ ethan moves so fast?

grace: i dont trust you. i will let the police capture you. you saved my life but im still running!! i messed your plans up (sorry)

ethan:( holds her face) my life is worth less than yours.

What is this intimacy??affection idk closeness? i know ethan is a loyal guy but???

villain: dark messiah. death as a gift. ghost. ai. gabriel (angel wow) i love more religious imagery. the flashback was like a decent window into ethan lore BEFORE imf (oooo) but i just dont really get what gabriel wants? the entity is messing shit up already. and gabriel seems to already work with it (comms faked in venice) i assume that ethan is a variable the entity needs to eliminate but just kill him? hahaha? gabriel probably likes seeing ethan suffer but compared to lane's stuff i'm not really. amused. (ethan literally has nightmares about lane)

also paris i didnt even know if they ever said her name? she was angry and dressed up and had some rabid dog scenes (like go girl) but i hope she does more in the next part! like the part where she holds up ethan and grace with a stab wound (woah. strong)

other stuff: the dutch angles being used in like 50% of the shots like CALM DOWN i love the mi:1 references but were they always so disorieting maybe im just getting old

the scenes? ilsa dies and ethan looks a bit distressed. the scene where they're hugging was so like woah okay but felt really like. shoved in there like. Okay yeah something bad is gonna happen to her 😭😭

in the end, rogue nation + ghost protocol are still my #1s. characters like brandt and ilsa had really interesting backgrounds and fit into the IMF team easily- the films centering around their teamwork is why i got so into MI in the first place. grace doesn't offer any like addition i dont think she can even bicker with the team for funsies (like brandt/ilsa) . she's not cool shes a poor girl that didnt know what she was getting into 😭

things i did like:

action scenes. awesome((besides the lack of luther and benji there)) ilsa being awesome in the desert

the cinematography (beautiful. as always.)

everyone in suits ( lawyer ethan. benji. )

thanks for reading and feel free to yell at me about your thoughts!!!!!

#mission impossible #mission impossible spoilers #dead reckoning spoilers #mi #MI7 #mi7 #me things

5 notes · View notes

yoursselo · 2 days ago

Note

This took me days but it’s here🩷

Today was Mason’s birthday and you wanted the day to be extra special and unforgettable for him - one filled with love, warmth, and little surprises. HE DESERVES TO HAVE THE BEST DAY EVER

Before leaving the room, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and slipped into the hoodie he had worn the night before, that still smelled like him. THIS SOUNDS LIKE A DREAM TO ME

While you prepared the surprise, Mason slowly began to wake up. His hand instinctively reached for your side of the bed, seeking some morning cuddles, only to find it cold. He frowned and wondered where you were. Confused, he got up and began to dress for his recovery session. BABY BOY WAS SO CONFUSED

The moment he entered the room Mason froze. His eyes widened as he took in the decorations—the balloons, the photos, the garland—and then his gaze landed on you, standing there with a huge smile, holding a plate of pancakes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!” you said, your voice full of excitement. I BET HE FELT SOOOOO LOVED😭

“This is... incredible. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You always know how to make me feel better.” I MIGHT CRY

Once everything was finished you handed him your first present. A leather-strapped watch with an engraving of the HMS Warrior on the back, an homage to his beloved hometown of Portsmouth. Mason ran his fingers over the engraving. “I can’t believe you thought of this. You don’t know how much this means to me.” He looked up at you, his voice thick with gratitude. “I’ll treasure this forever. One day, I’ll give it to our kids.” He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. HELL GOVE TGE WAYCH TO THEIR FUTURE KID😭BYE BYE YOU LOST ME

As Mason flipped through the pages, his expression shifted from surprise to emotional. The comic told the story of his life, starting with his childhood in Portsmouth. It captured his early days playing football, his time at Vitesse and Derby, and his rise to fame at Chelsea. Each page was filled with vibrant details—his first goal, the Champions League win, and even some of his struggles. THAT WAS SO CUTE AND MEANINGFUL 🥹

Mason swallowed, his eyes brimming with tears. “I... I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you. For everything. For seeing me this way. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so grateful you’re mine.” HE IS A CUTIE PIE

THIS WAS JUST SO SWEET AND CUTE AND HEARTWARMING

I LOVE THEM

HE IS SO PERFECT AND GRATEFUL TO HACE HER IN HIS LIFE

SHE IS SO IN LOVE WITH HIM

AHHH IM COMPLETELY MELT

THANK YOU FOR WRITING ABD SHARING THIS🥹🩷

CANT WAIT FIR MORE SND MORE AND MORE🤭

oh my god???? babe thank you sooo much for taking your time and reading it like it means sooo much 🥹

0 notes

currentfandomkick · 2 months ago

Text

Everyone thank @harvestandhearth for this ^^

Heads up, i’m going with intersex danny as ectoplasm exposure and presumed afab until he was able to clarify which gender he was (toddler) and chose his own name as Danny for this. Tim is still a nicu baby, and the two were presumed fraternal twins until a lot later.

And possible trigger warning, while not in Danny’s POV talking about what vlad did with the clones does trigger an episode to a degree, but this is all third POV with it being others’ observing Danny trying to ground himself after a stressor triggered something.

And as a personal headcannon, since Danny can turn parts of himself intangible, a nervous stim for him when he cant remove himself and go where he feels safe is to pull at his arteries or nerves—never managing it but passing through them as a target is soothing as its a tiny challenge, repetitive, and doesn’t hurt him but he can feel it happening so it helps ground himself after a trigger.

Timothy Jackson Drake nee Fenton pt2

Cyborg had two options with the news Red Robin and Phantom were twins: update the League files and let the paranoid bastards monitoring them find out that way, or telling them.

He did have a front row seat to the Dick and Kori’s disaster era many of them blame Dick for.

He updates Phantom and Red Robin’s files, links them as “twins raised apart geographically, and very attached emotionally” and let the cards fall where they may.

If Dick wanted to bring drama to the titans way back when, he can discover batfam drama on bis own time and away from Cyborg this time.

—

Tim was getting ready for patrol after his Call with Jazz and Dani. Danny crashed his pre-patrol routine to looking over possible redesigns from ghost fashionistas on a call.

The hooded cloak concept is popular and growing on Tim.

Apparently giving him a dragon as his callsign was also popular.

He was liking some of redesigns as different birds. Rook’s and Cardinal having a functional glider built in. Someone with the call mabychan didnt go too far off his current look, and it was possible to add the flight functions. The aesthetic addition of gold or yellow onto the suit proper rather than just his gear was interesting enough to explore later.

Danny continued to advocate for Tim playing with ecto-infused tech to be less trackable and was ignoring the very fact ecto signatures are very trackable and are transferable to people.

He was debating the winged cape-hood combo when his work phone kept going off.

“So, cutting this early again?”

“They can wait. Now, do you think maby could mix the hood and wing cape into her design? Like, my hair is wrong but it’s not far off from what i was going for, i think these two,” Tim grabbed his favorite Rook and Cardinal designs and lifted them to show Danny, “are a good reference for how i want the glider part to work.”

“I’ll contact her and see what she says,” Danny raised an eyebrow as his work phone began to flash red as it kept going off. “You gonna answer that or…”

“They’ll live, i’m not on the clock yet, and they interrupted my cases so many times this week with these stupid team building exercises. Like, hoe, i have a life outside of my two jobs, shut the fuck up and let me live!”

“You sure they aren’t a johnny-skulker hybrid?”

“Positive. They don’t hunt me for my pelt. Most of the time—Hood and mini Robin might if they have a mental break again.”

“Why have i not kidnapped you home sooner?”

“You respect my boundaries and are eviler for doing so.”

“Clearly, my evil-self solo-ed the Justice League and affiliates.”

“I’m still certain if i was alive, i would have beat evil you’s ass.”

“Dipshit, i would not have gone evil i would be a shaky chihuahua following your ass everywhere if any of my idiots didnt die in that accident.”

“Fair. So, i get Val, Anita, bart, Kon will try but he may run late with chores at the Kent’s, Cassie is coming, and against the odds you get to face an olympic archer too!”

“Oh my god, you guys could stand a chance if Dad’s aim doesn’t obliterate your points. How did you get Cissie to agree?”

“I told her Greta’s on your team and reminded her they were still tied for who was winning a bet way back when. Then called her a dick for deserting us in our time of need.”

“At least i don’t have to worry Slobo.”

“He’s on kiddo duty while we play.”

“So strategic sabotage.”

“You know me so well.”

“Evil, evil bastard brother!”

“Don’t talk about our mom like that.”

“I was talking about Aunt Janet.”

“Never mind, carry on.”

“Nah, but your phone is annoying me so—“ Danny shifted and Phantom burst out of his screen. “Ancients that sucked!”

Tim rolled his eyes as Danny bemoaned his latest fire walls.

“Use real fire ants next time, Ancients Damnit!”

“No.”

Danny snagged his phone as he reloaded his smoke pellets. “Now what does—holy shit. Did you not tell them you’re co-workers?”

“It was obvious—why do they think I turned down the family dinner invites unless Steph was there? I need bestie backup to handle their shit off hours.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t. They think you’re a Bat when you’re a fucking Fenton. Holy shit!”

“I never hid it,” Tim defended, “They’re detectives, they dan detect.”

Danny began wheezing, curled around the phone and cackling.

“…did B send anything yet?”

Danny shakily passed the phone. Tim ignored the group chat and looked to his private one with Bruce and Alfred.

“Cave. Now.”

“I was unaware of your living relatives Master Timothy. Do invite them over, we have much to discuss. From, Alfred Pennyworth”

Tim groaned, moving to put the last of gear in place.

“I was invited by your co-parent, I’m coming.”

“Chaos gremlin.” He waved Danny to follow him into the elevator, away from his (relatively) civilian quarters.

“You say that like you aren’t one too.”

“I hide it better, when it matters,” Tim shrugged. “Blame Aunt Janet’s social chameleon lessons.”

“Deceiver of all,” Danny narrated with the utmost dramatics as they exited the elevator. “be evil with your whole chest or be the Good Twin!”

“Fuck that. Now get your ass in gear, you’re riding Bitch.”

“Hey, if guys at school are going to keep calling me Fentonia, I believe I can say you gotta stop calling it that. Clearly I’m the tagalong and a snack.”

“Nope,” Tim readied Red Bird. “You smell like a bitch and look like shit. Why Val likes you, the world may never know.”

“Fuck you. And we share a face!” Danny got on behind him, ignoring the offered helmet.

“I wear it better and dont have baby fat. Safety first lab accident.”

“You look like that brainless dipshit from Oz, but boned,” Danny snapped as he put on the helmet and waiting for Tim to go.

“At least when I crossdress, it’s not a question of which gender I’m presenting as,” Tim grumbled as they sped out.

“Eat a cock, you know they thought i was a girl for a year.”

“I mean—“ Tim took a sharp turn out of the garage and merged into Gotham’s traffic .

“Abort, no sex stories from my twin this early—.”

“It’s 9 at night mostly ghostly.”

“—And did you forget i ate your fraternal twin in the womb and we became identical in a case of severe Gray’s Anatomy BS?”

“Look, the Nicu was A Lot, and with how much medical mystery shit our family has going on, can you blame me?”

“Yep. Medical mystery, magical mystery, family curse and Fenton Luck must be kept

Separate big brother, or are you getting sennial in your old age?”

“Fuck off.”

“And once again, your 9 pm is my 4 am. I’m a witching hour girlie, Reddicus Robininous.” Danny snarked as they sped outside of Gotham City proper into the Rich Bitch greenery and woods.

“I blame Pix,” Tim groaned.

“Beanie taught me that!”

“But Pix taught you to say it.”

“She did, she did.”

The ride to the Cave was quiet, Danny frowning at the lack of stars.

“Leave it.”

“But i can probably pull it out of the atmosphere.”

“And put it where?”

“… my chest?”

“Nope, no self experimentation without scientist supervision.”

“Don’t you count?”

“I am a detective, combatant, chemist and hacker. I am not a scientist.”

“Sounds fake.”

“You’re fake.”

“I’m ghostly, and a member of the cloned kids club.”

“You ate my twin in the womb.”

“So i get to be evil!”

“No. I’m evil; I’m a ceo and help a lot of coverups as a vigilante for other vigilantes and a handful of anti-heroes.”

“Evil me took out your not-son and his friends!” Danny argued.

“Please, three separate evil me’s managed that, and came back to gloat.”

“Well, those three ceased to exist or evil last i checked. My evil me’s in therapy and still murdery.”

“I know—how’s Dan doing and are we going with older brother cover or cousin like Dani?”

“His call, and he’s… unpacking still.”

“Eh-hem,” Alfred interrupted as Tim parked Red Bird. “I believe we need to have a family meeting are your other family members joining, excusing this Dan?”

“No, they don’t know this is happening,” Tim answered.

“That,” Danny looked around at the… trophy wing(?) of the cave. “Aannnd Jazz would enjoy psychoanalyzing you all too much. So, is this a ��check all the info for verification cautionary tale’ or something else?” He asked as he turned his attention back to the bat-butler. Batler(?)

“Something else, Master Daniel.”

“Just Danny. I chose it, I get to keep it in all contexts.”

Alfred moved to open his mouth.

“Only one to not call him that made him an unwilling teen parent,” Tim interjected before Alfred could start up on formalities.

Alfred narrowed his eyes. “Has this individual been taken care of?”

Tim and Danny shared a look. “Working on it,” Tim answered, rubbing the inside of Danny wrist before he could start tugging his arteries or nerves as a stress stim.

Alfred looked between them. “Anything else i should be aware of Master Danny?”

“Just keep toast away from me, and I’m not a solid foods person—can do solid food in shake form just uh, jaw tends to freeze and lock at random since my powers came in.”

Alfred hummed in response to that. “Soft solids are acceptable, yes?”

Danny slowly nodded his head, and moved his hand to the thermos on his hip.

Tim squarely kept Danny on the side he could better block the cameras from as they followed Alfred up.

“I made a batch of chocolate salted caramel chip oatmeal cookies. I will bring you a more drinkable version of the batter with a strawberry smoothie on the side. Master Tim, your usual will be beside your serving.”

Tim grunted in response, checking his phone and keeping a steady hand on his twin’s pulse. Which was far too fast for Danny’s normal… trying to appease Tim’s co-workers by masking the liminality, or stress response to casually outing himself or to Tim dropping the Vlad forced cloning thing (Tim’s helped him with so, so many nightmares of watching his clones die. The fact one was identical to Rim didn’t help. Tim being present and alive did).

Danny smiled at him. Mask smile—so hiding Phantom’s impact or ignoring the trauma trigger he pulled. Yep, Tim is winning the evil twin contest for the wrong reasons again.

Alfred turned to see Tim analyzing his twin, who was more flushed in his face than before… he’d have to inform the Wayne clan to gentle their interrogation regarding Master Danny’s existence. Master Tim’s explanation helped explain the name situation, however it could have been done without triggering the poor boy. Had Master Tim given him a moment, he would have found the explanation unnecessary.

The twins stalled at the threshold of the meeting room.

Tim waved at Stephanie, Cass and Barbra sitting in the same general area together as he moved further in front of Danny and switched which hand was grounding him and monitoring his pulse. Stephanie was gleeful to say the least, Cass unfazed and Barbra giving him a too knowing wave back.

Dick was sitting between Damian and Bruce, the three dissecting every move Tim and Danny made. Tim made sure to shield him as much as he could from the imminent psychological warfare Bruce was planning. Damian would likely aim for any potential insecurity once he got too aggravated with everything, and was likely to say something that could set off Danny. He only really went through his firewalls instead of waiting for Tim to let him in when he was having a particularly nasty day and needed some twin time.

Tim couldn’t fathom what Dick’s plan was. The one he saw as his found older brother would laugh at him managing to fool everyone one on a loophole and tell him how to further the ruse. But the one who took up the cowl was different from the brother that mentored him and helped with everything from girls, leading a team and homework.

Duke and Jason were to the side. Jason looked morbidly amused while Duke seemed curious, so no worries on that end for Danny. Operation: ‘air out Batcorp’s laundry if they start shit’ was a go.

—

Okay next round i will want an idea of how you want batfam members to respond to the fact Tim ‘hid’ his family from them—as that’s how these chuckleheads are entering this meeting.

Tim’s got receipts and Danny is there mostly to divide Tim’s attention and watch the show.

Tim Drake’s Coworkers (ft. The Fenton Family)

It’s not that Tim doesn’t like the Batfamily. He tolerates them just fine. Damian is great for sparring (if you like sparring with a tiny murder machine), and Jason’s brand of dark humor isn’t too bad once you get used to it. Dick’s a bit too much sometimes, but overall? Fine. Totally fine.

But the thing is… they’re just his coworkers.

And it never really clicks for the Bats until Danny Phantom joins the Justice League and everything starts unraveling.

———

The revelation comes during a League meeting. They’re strategizing about some ghost-related chaos, and Danny floats into the Watchtower, bright and glowing.

“Oh, hey, Tim,” Danny greets casually, giving him a little wave.

Tim doesn’t even look up from his tablet. “Sup.”

Superman looks between them, confused. “…you two know each other?”

Danny grins. “yeah, he’s my brother.”

Dead silence.

“WHAT?!” Bruce’s bellow shakes the entire room.

Tim finally looks up, unfazed. “What? Did you think I just spawned into existence?”

“You have a brother?!” Clark sputters.

“Two siblings, actually,” Tim corrects, utterly nonchalant. “Danny’s the younger one. Jazz is the older one. She’s great. Super organized. Kept me alive in middle school.”

Bruce’s eye twitches. “Why—why am I only learning this now?”

Tim shrugs. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Relevant?” Diana repeats, incredulous. “You’re the brother of Danny Phantom and it’s not relevant?”

Danny, who’s been munching on some ectoplasm candy, jumps in: “Honestly, Tim’s always been kind of private about his personal life. We just figured it was his way of coping with the whole ‘raised-by-rich-neglectful-aunt’ thing.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tim interjects, glaring at Danny. “Thanks so much for dumping me with Aunt Janet, by the way.”

Danny shrugs sheepishly. “Mom and Dad panicked! They thought you’d get ghost-napped next!”

“Uh, correction: Aunt Janet left me to raise myself, so that plan was awesome.”

Bruce, trying to keep up, interrupts: “Hold on. Your parents left you with Janet Drake?”

“They didn’t know she sucked at raising kids,” Tim deadpans. “And to be fair, they did call. A lot. I just didn’t pick up.”

Jason, who has been cackling this entire time, leans forward. “Wait, wait, wait—so you’re telling me that the Replacement’s entire family is a bunch of ghost hunters?”

“Yup.” Danny pops the “p” with a grin.

“You’re kidding me,” Steph says, borderline hysterical.

Tim sighs, clearly over it. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Jazz keeps the parents in check, Danny handles the ghost stuff, and I… stay out of the way. It’s fine.”

“FINE?” Damian glares. “Drake, you’ve been fraternizing with ghost hunters while working with a vigilante group, and you think that’s fine?”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Dami, chill. It’s not like it affects work. You’re my coworkers. They’re my family. Separate categories.”

Cue collective Batfamily malfunction.

———

Later, Danny is chilling in the Batcave, feet kicked up on the Batcomputer, chatting with Alfred. The rest of the Bats are still spiraling.

“Tim, we’ve lived together for years!” Dick exclaims, sounding genuinely hurt. “How are we only your coworkers?”

“You’re not my family,” Tim explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Danny and Jazz are my family. You guys are my teammates. It’s different.”

Jason throws his head back, laughing. “Oh my god, Replacement, you’re stone cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Tim argues. “I just don’t think we need to make it more complicated than it is. We work together. That’s enough.”

Meanwhile, Danny is wiping tears of laughter off his face. “Oh man. Jazz is gonna love this.”

#batfam #tim drake #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #fenton family supremacy #tim drake has priorities #imagine being called a coworker by your brother #jazz and danny are his real family #tim and danny are twins #let them be siblings and happy #long post #dcxdp

4K notes · View notes