#(was he in a car accident maybe?)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Understandably So no one mentions charles when talking about the Logan movie and again Understandably So This Aint Bout Him however i do confess that as someone who had never seen Logan until like. a month ago when i was binging all the movies and without knowing a single thing about it aside from laura i cant lie i was in fact jumpscared by him being there. especially for at least like 3/4s of the movie

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

This is mesmerising. Thank you my lovely friend! It's not exactly the happy part yet of the loudest silence sequel but it's hopeful? maybe? (This is the post-series one. Not to be confused with the season 1 inspired version)

“How bad is it?” Jamie asked, his voice breaking. “Just fucking tell me, Roy. You’re the only one I can count on to just to tell me the fucking truth.”

Roy paused. Jamie’s words both hurt and touched him and he wanted to tell Jamie everything, but he’s barely been awake, Roy wasn’t sure if this was exactly the right time to do it, if he should wait until Jamie has some time to adjust to his injuries, some time to get used to the idea that his right leg was badly broken. Roy has had two weeks and he’s not sure he’s gotten used to it himself.

“Please,” Jamie begged, his voice hoarser currently than it was even earlier, the lack of use during the last two weeks becoming more evident with each word Jamie’s forced to speak.

“It’s bad,” Roy admitted. “It’ll take a lot of work, but you’ll be back out there on the pitch. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

It wasn’t said in an angry or accusing manner like it could have been. It was just a fact, same as if Jamie was saying what day of the week it was.

“Yes, I fucking can.”

“No. You fucking can’t, Roy,” Jamie said, voice now the strongest it’s sounded since he woke up, but the hoarseness still cut through Roy. ‘What did the doctor say?”

Where was the fucking doctor he thought. He shouldn’t have to be the one to tell Jamie his career might be over that he might never dribble a ball that he might never run that yeah he’ll probably walk without a limp but they couldn’t even guarantee that and they couldn’t give a time table of when he would even be able to put weight on his fucking leg again.

Jamie was humpy dumpty and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t guarantee he’d be put back together again.

Jamie looked at him expectantly, his grey eyes glassy but open for the first time in more than two weeks, and at that moment Roy was glad the doctor wasn’t there. He didn’t want Jamie to hear this from someone he didn’t know. He wanted Jamie to hear it from him if he had to hear anything at all.

It has to be me. It could be no one else.

“The doctor said he doesn’t know,” Roy said, and Jamie’s eyes searched him for answers. “They don’t know shit for all their fucking schooling. They couldn’t tell me anything. Your leg should heal, but they don’t know to what extent, if you’ll be able to play or at the same level you were at before. But he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t know because he doesn’t know you, not the same way I do. He doesn’t know what a stubborn prick you can be, what a hard worker you are, how far you’ve come, on and off the pitch. Your story doesn’t end here in this fucking hospital.”

Your story doesn’t end because of me.

He doesn’t say that part, but he means it. Maybe even means it the most. But Jamie doesn’t need his guilt on top of everything he’s already fighting through. Jamie’s saved Roy once, but he’s not going to make it so the lad has to save him again. No, this time, Roy is the one that will help Jamie, save him if he needs to. It’s the least he could do after all.

Jamie looked at him, and a small smile crept into his face, “You did make me better than Zava.”

“You made you better than Zava. I just got your arse out of bed for 4 am.”

[pennedinblood]

as of ten minutes ago we are officially Jobless™️. my sign to retire early and devote the remainder of my existence to writing toxic old man yaoi

[astxrwar]

i see the “army vet bucky” modern au alternatives for the winter soldier trauma and raise you “life-altering motorcycle accident survivor turned (recovered) painkiller addict bucky”. i think this might be too niche but there’s so many parallels psychologically wrt: the lack of choice inherent in the neurobiology of drug addiction particularly in ppl who started off just taking what was prescribed to them for their pain in like the 90s/early 2000s (when pharma execs Lied about the neurological impacts). the way you kind of lose all that time despite still living it and having the memories, how sometimes the memories feel like they belong to a different person once you get sober. how it separates you from everyone else in your life who Didn’t suffer like that. it’s Compelling. imo.

[yanderespamton78]

Fucking HELP ME GUYS one of my best friends who I talk to basically 24/7 hasn't replied or has any messages I've sent to him deliver in 36 FUCKING HOURS now I'm genuinely starting to get concerned about him where the flying fanny flap is he I wanna talk to my bestie

[sneeg-snag]

wanting to make a joke in the sneeg resub about the freak merch saving me in said car crash vs. not wanting to be weird in donos....

[minhosblr]

Some twt stays are overreacting about Minho not really posting and being active during - and since - the comeback and I'm just like..? Did you all consider that he's just living life and taking care of himself or? Let the dude live his adult life without millions of people worrying about him, just because he only posted like 4 selfies in the last couple of months

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

For some reason I have a sudden overwhelming desire to rewrite Julian's lore, adding more sadness and sorrow to it, because I love my dear farmer blorbo and so he must suffer

[vvitchy-succubus]

.

[pawnshopsblue]

lorelais weird beef with jess in s2 is like. u are a grown woman. moreover the weird bit where she kinda sorta prioritizes her daughter's whiny bf over her actual daughter is. u are a grown woman and that is a teenage manchild.

[princesscallyie]

Me when I'm listening to the most stupidest story about my mom giving my brother $1500 for a down payment for a 2nd car while his in the shop for a deer hitting him and him losing the nonrefundable $1500 cause he drove 2 hours away to a scummy dealership and he didn't get approve for enough credit from the bank

[sandymybeloved]

School Reunion is probably one of the lightest episodes Sarah Jane appears in post 2005, pretty impressive for a character with their own children's TV show

[sage-nebula]

When I was driving home tonight there was this car tailgating me (we were going into the construction part of the highway where there are only two lanes and I was already going 10mph over so I wasn't going to do anything about it), and it turns out they were tailgating me because they were trying to get away from this other car tailgating them.

The other car was a some kind of old, beatup red car, and I know this because it pulled a dangerous manuever in the only-two-lanes zone to weave through traffic, catch up to, and cut me off without using his turn signal at all for any of it. And then he did this aggressive wave in his rearview that I'm 97% sure was him flipping me off given the context of the other behavior.

So I flipped him off back.

And then he flipped me off again, so I flipped him off a second time.

At that point he sped off and changed to the other lane so you'd think that would be the end of it. But his exit came before mine, so he got caught behind slower traffic and I guess realized I'd end up passing him. So he stuck his arm out his window to flip me off a third time, and also leaned his face partway out his window to yell something. I had my windows up, though, and music playing (I was listening to this), so I couldn't hear him; I just kept my head forward and flipped him off again as I passed him.

Anyway, from my brief glimpse he looked kind of like this:

[pretty-dianxia]

Crack fic idea

Qi Rong, Prince of Xianle, one day disappears. The royal family is concerned. He has an eccentric personality and might get into trouble because of his arrogant tendencies. 

Queen Mother finds him on the other side of the TV one morning while she sits in her couch to watch her morning dose of a show, the face of her nephew in all glory, dressed lavishly in a dress that belonged to her, jewellery adorning him all over, makeup flawless, and a cheeky grin as he does a twirl that displays the dress and his legs.

The voice of a narrator speaks. "Qi Rong, 21 years old. She came from her Palace to slay, win, and eat you alive."

The logo of the show appears. "Who would win the millions of dollars?" 

Queen Mother whispers baffled, "But he doesn't need the money." 

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about nora again

[verfound]

MINIFIC: Oct. 23: Day 22: Giant (MLB, Lukanette, DLM AU)

For @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers October Minific Challenge 2023.

Read on Ao3

To Feel Alive Again: Ch22: Giant

By the time Marinette had finished her shift, tracked down her reap, and made it back to Luka’s front door, she was pissed.

She didn’t regret leaving the night before.  She knew it had been for the best, that if she had stayed it would just be something they would both regret in the morning.  Still, even knowing that, the decision had been hard.  She had barely slept the night before, and if not for the fact that she had told Luka…had promised him she’d pick him up for breakfast and nothing would change between them…she would have happily chickened out and proceeded to avoid him like the coward she was.

Except he hadn’t answered once she’d arrived, not even after ten minutes of knocking and shouting at him through the door.  His neighbor, a woman slightly older than her who worked the night shift somewhere, had come out and asked her to keep it the fuck down, some of us are trying to sleep.  She had apologized, and the woman had told her Luka wasn’t home.  She wasn’t sure where he was, but she knew he had left pretty early in the morning.  He’d been walking out of the building as she’d been walking in.

…which had led Marinette to wonder if Luka was avoiding her.

He hadn’t been at breakfast, either.  Mendeleiev had simply said he was still in a Mood, didn’t feel like being social, and had collected his post-it and left.  She wouldn’t tell her where he was headed after that, and Marinette had spent the rest of breakfast sulking as she pushed undercooked scrambled eggs around her plate.

She’d had work that day, and her reap shortly after, and that had left too much time to stew.  Because honestly!  Where the fuck did he get off?  If anything, she should be the one avoiding him!  She was the one who had tried to take things too far!  He was hurting, and…and drunk, and not in his right mind, and how horrible was she that she was willing to take advantage of that because…what?  She’d spent a little too long lately staring at his mouth and wondering what it would feel like on hers?

…she was dead.  She was horny.  And he was dead and depressed, and all of that meant she had done the right thing leaving when she did.  How dare he avoid her like she was the bad guy here?

…unless…unless he remembered and felt like he was the bad guy.  If he felt he had been forcing himself on her, taking advantage of her kindness, and had been too ashamed of that to face her.

Which was stupid, because it was Luka.  Luke was…he was…it was ridiculous, she decided, because she suspected that Luka’s biggest flaw might be that he cared too deeply about people, but she knew that it was also that he had closed himself off because of that.  He was prickly because he didn’t want to get close to people anymore, and that was totally fair, except they had been making progress.  She liked to think they were friends now.  And, dammit, he wasn’t allowed to be an asshole to her, not anymore, just because…what?  She had tried to get drunk and kiss him?

…maybe she wasn’t mad.  Maybe she was just…concerned.  Worried.  A little hurt.  And maybe that was pissing her off, too.

Which meant that, either way, when she arrived at his flat shortly before dinnertime, she was pissed.  And she was going to make sure he knew it, she thought as she banged on the door.

“Luka Whatever-The-Fuck-Your-Middle-Name-Is Couffaine, open the damn door right this minute!” she shouted above the banging, even going so far as to kick the door for good measure.  “Just talk to me, you asshole!”

She paused when she heard a shuffling, a crash, and a yelp.  Luka’s muffled voice came from the other side, and then a bigger thump against the door.  And…rattling?  Like metal.  Chains?  What…what was that?

The door cracked open a moment later, and Luka poked his head out.  He was reaching behind him, and she watched as he slumped down for a moment like he was trying to hold something back.

“…it’s Llewellyn,” he said.  She blinked at him, confused.

“Wh…what?” she asked.  He slipped again and cursed, then dipped his head towards her.

“Whatever-The-Fuck-Your-Middle-Name-Is,” he grunted.  “It’s ‘Llewellyn’.”

“…Luka Llewellyn Couffaine?” Marinette asked, her eyebrows lifting.  Her tongue tripped over the Ls a little, and she frowned.  She wasn’t sure if she liked it.  “That’s…a mouthful.”

“So is – shit,” he grunted, and she gasped as his legs seemed to give out from under him and he toppled back.  The next thing she knew, his door was opening and the biggest dog she had ever seen was jumping onto his chest, kicking off with a low woof, and jumping at her.

“Oh my G-!” she cried, the words leaving her as the dog knocked her to the ground and the wind left her in a rush.  She screamed, more out of shock than fear, but then the big lug was already licking her face and she was laughing as she tried to shove him off.  Sure, he was adorable, but he was heavy as fuck and lying on her chest and she couldn’t breathe.  “L-Luka!  What the fuck?”

She tried to sound angry – she really did – but the dog was tickling her face with its tongue and the question came out on a laugh.  She finally pushed the dog away enough that it settled its big head on her chest, his hot breath snuffling at her neck, and tried to look over the mountain of fluff sitting on her to see if Luka was all right.

“Bach, no!” Luka called, and then he was there and grabbing massive fistfuls of fluff and tugging the dog back.  Bach, he called it?  Bach whined and gave a tug, and Marinette saw Luka stumble again before falling on his but with a wince and a curse.  “Fuck!”

“Luka, are you – easy, sweetheart, ok, get off now,” she said, shoving at the dog.  It – he? – finally sat back on her legs, his tongue lolled out and panting as he looked at her with the stupidest expression she’d ever seen on a dog.  He was looking between her and Luka, and if she didn’t know any better she’d swear he was smiling at them.  She looked back at Luka, trying not to smile herself.  “Are you…are you ok?  And what the heck?”

“I’m fine,” he huffed, but he was wincing as he rubbed his hip.  He looked up and saw her staring at the gesture, and he sighed.  “I got hit by a car.”

“You what?!” she gasped.  He waved her off and stood.  Bach gave another low woof, and she watched as Luka held up a palm to the oaf.  “Luka!  That’s not…are you hurt?  Clearly you’re hurt, of course you’d be hurt, but you…oh my God, Luka!”

“I’m fine,” he said, stressing the words again, but when he walked over to them he was limping, and that didn’t seem like fine in Marinette’s book.  She opened her mouth to say so, but she stopped when he shot her a look.  “I’m fine.  It barely clipped me.  Bach’s owner wasn’t so lucky, though, and he almost…he’s gonna be staying with me for a bit now, aren’t you, buddy?”

The dog panted as Luka scratched at his neck, looking up like he didn’t realize Luka was even talking about him.  Marinette reached out to scratch at his ears, and he jumped and whined, whipping around to see her.  He let out a low bark, and Marinette frowned.

“Easy,” Luka said.  “He’s deaf.  You just startled him is all.”

“…so you do have a dog,” she said, looking up at him with a smile.  He rolled his eyes and nodded, still scratching Bach.

“I guess I do now, yeah,” he said.  He glanced back at her and sighed.  He wasn’t smiling anymore.  “Why are you here, Marinette?”

And there it was.

“…you weren’t here this morning,” she said, her shoulders slumping as she looked away.  She could feel him watching her, and she swallowed against the lump in her throat.  He was going to make her say it.  He was…  “You…I was…we got pretty drunk last night, and –”

“We can’t…” he started, but he cut off abruptly when she lifted her eyes to him.  She bit her lip and waited for his refusal, all while mentally pleading with him to let it go, to let her be right.  To pretend with her that it had all been too much alcohol and a mistake that neither could remember.  To let them go back to normal, whatever their ‘normal’ actually was anymore.  She saw his throat bob as he swallowed, and then he looked back to Bach.  His hand moved up to his ear and scritched.  “…yeah.  I think I blacked out at some point.  Did you…I don’t remember you leaving.  Did you get home ok?”

Like nothing had happened.

She had promised him they’d be ok.  They’d still be them.

…like she didn’t know what his kiss tasted like now.  Like she wasn’t still wondering if it would be the same right now, without the alcohol and the grief and…

“Y-yeah,” she said, nodding.  “My head was killing me this morning.  I came by to walk you to breakfast, but…”

“Woke up early,” he said, nodding.  “Couldn’t get back to sleep.  I…look.  I was trying to get Bach’s dinner together when you knocked, and…did you…I mean…”

He huffed out a breath, and then Bach was licking his face and he was rolling his eyes as Marinette giggled.  He glanced over at her with a defeated sort of smile, and nothing had changed.

…even if, maybe, everything had.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked, nodding back towards his still-open door.  She smiled and pushed herself up.  She dusted off her skirt before she offered a hand to help him up, too.

“I would love to.”