#the real answer is that i don't really know why

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Love Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I did this because I could.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'You ready?' 

A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 

You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 

When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 

You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 

'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 

You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 

'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 

'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 

You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 

You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 

Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 

Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 

Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 

You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 

Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 

'Did you find your surprise?' 

You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 

'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 

You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 

You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 

You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 

'Put it on.' 

His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 

'Yes, sir.' 

You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 

You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 

You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 

Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 

You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 

'Midnight.' 

That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 

As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 

💕

10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 

Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 

Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 

You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  

Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 

Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 

You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 

You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 

As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 

You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 

“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 

Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 

“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 

He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 

He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 

You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 

He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 

There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 

He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 

You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 

“Please--” you beg. 

He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 

He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 

He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 

He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 

He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 

He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 

He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 

He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 

This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  

Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 

You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 

Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 

He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 

He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  

He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 

His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 

You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 

He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 

“Ow, Andy--” 

“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 

He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 

“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  

He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 

“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[jensensitive]

It's not always an easy thing to make breakfast in the morning when there's so many people around. Jostling for what exactly everyone's individual tastes are wanting that morning, or not wanting, or just how much coffee is left, or where the tea went, or who did the dishes last night and why there's stuff on your favorite mug. It's good though, he likes it. It feels right, having his family so close to bug him. He doesn't really like peace and quiet as much as he does the people he loves making themselves known in his life and routine. And the smell of coffee and feeling like it's a new day worth waking up for because everyone's there and alive. Right now it's just him and Sam in the kitchen, but your little brother being annoying is all just a part of it.

"You're like a middle aged divorced guy obsessed with his car, but without the excuse of ever actually having been married."

"Who wouldn't be obsessed with my Baby, she's hot as hell."

"She's never gonna love you back, Dean."

"Hey, that's not nice, I treat my girl right. Take her out on the town. Just last night, she and I went for a nice long drive, real romantic like."

Sam snorts.

Mary walks into the kitchen.

"Hey, mom, there's coffee if you want some. I'm doing pancakes, whether Sam wants 'em or not, you up for pancakes?"

"Always. I'm not gonna say no to pancakes."

"See, that's the right answer, Sam."

"Whatever, I just don't wanna throw up in the middle of my run."

"Seems like there's an easy solution to that where you still get pancakes," Dean quips.

Mary makes herself a cup of coffee at the kitched counter and grabs the milk beside Dean to put some in her mug.

Dean turns back from flipping the pancakes to look back at Sam. "Are you just bugging me about this because you've finally got a girlfriend so now you've got some kind of leg to stand on in how much of a loser I am?"

"Oh, I always had that leg to stand on."

"Sam." Mary chides.

"Sorry, Mom, I'm just messing around."

Dean smiles at Sam getting talked to. "He's just jealous of me and my girl and our long and loving commitment."

"Yeah, real jealous." Sam rolls his eyes. Dean is drinking his coffee, but he knows Sam is rolling his eyes.

"I took her out last night. " Dean offers a low whistle. "You should have seen her, man. Making heads turn left and right, she's still got it."

"Yes, she's so pretty, she's so hot, she's so stunningly blah blah blah, you understand how weird you sound, right?"

Mary smiles. "I think it's sweet. He really likes her. What did you guys do together last night."

Sam groans. "Not you too, come on."

"Took her out for a nice dive-in dinner, curly fires and a burger, with the tray that clips to the window of course, only the best for my girl."

"How romantic." Sam deadpans.

"Then we went for a nice long drive, just us and some Zeppelin, yknow. You gotta have some quality time."

Mary nods. "Your father and I used to do something very similar," Mary answers with a gleam in her eye.

"Yeah, see she gets it." Dean gestures from Sam to Mary.

"It's weird, you both are weird and I'm not participating in your perverse afflictions."

"Zeppelin never sounds better than on my Baby's tape deck."

"Yeah we know you really love a big deck." Sam snorts at himself.

"Yeah whatever." It's Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

Mary turns to him. "So what's her name, when am I gonna meet her?"

Sam starts coughing somewhere in the background.

Dean is just lost. "Huh? Who?"

"Your girlfriend. No pressure or anything, but I'd love to meet her, see who's stolen my son's heart."

Sam barks out a laugh. Dean just blinks. "Huh?"

"She thinks you were talking about an actual human woman, you weirdo." Sam spells out like he's a complete idiot. He might feel his ears turning bright red at the realisation.

"Oh," he chuckles awkwardly. "No, no woman."

"No, he doesn't date actual women anymore, only personified objects that he gives female pronouns."

"Dude, shut up, it's not that weird."

"He was talking about his car."

He should just say it. "Actually." Why shouldn't he just say what he's thinking. "Well, it wasn't just me and Baby, we might have drug Cas along, heh." He huffs at himself awkwardly. " I mean why would I need a girlfriend, I have Cas," he says it like he's joking, so he is. "And my Baby. What more could I want than that."

Sam just sighs deeply like he does when he doesn't think one of Dean's jokes is funny. Well, to be fair, it wasn't.

Mary just lays a hand on his on the counter. "You sound like you're happy." She smiles at him. "And I've already met Cas and Baby, so you don't even need to introduce me."

Sam is just shaking his head as if they're still joking, but Mary is looking at him, and actually seeing what he's saying. And he has to give her hug and try not to cry. "Thanks, mom."

[alphajocklover]

Hey, um, I'm a really tall, really skinny gay guy. People have always told me that I could be really athletic if I wanted to, but no matter how much I eat I always stay thin and lanky. I guess it's just my metabolism. Could you help me beef up?

Maybe I just don't have the mindset for it

So, no matter what, even though you desperately want to, you can’t seem to put on any muscle. Trust me when I tell you that you’re not alone. There are tons of people who look at their body and wish they were different, and there are just as many who do what they can to change and find it's just not enough. That's part of why transformation blogs exist after all. The fantasy of getting your dream body without all the hassle. Some people say that those who have trouble doing this just need to work harder, or are lazy, but usually it has more to do with genetics and metabolism than anything else. Getting a body like the ones in my post is possible without magic and reality warping apps, but it is very difficult and not possible for everyone. So, your request brings up an interesting idea: what would happen if I changed you mentally and left your body alone? Would the right mindset really change that much? Well, let's see.

It shouldn’t be hard to change you mentally. I won’t even go into how. Maybe I used some magic, or nano bots, or something else from my increasingly large collection of jock transformation methods. Honestly the how isn’t really important to this experiment. It’s what happens next that we want to focus on. Because now, mentally, you’re a jock. I didn’t entirely rewrite your identity, so you’re still you, just a jock version of yourself. You’re dumber, simpler. You love sports and working out, and obsess about getting massive muscles. You’re the stereotypical jock… except you're skinny as a bean pole. The new you can’t just accept that of course. He wants to be huge. He works out like crazy, follows all the tips, takes every supplement and tries every protein powder he can find, all to chase the version of you he knows he can be. So… does it work? Does the new you get a jock body? The answer is fairly boring: kind of. An increased dedication to exercise and a passion for it is sure to make a big difference, and you end up putting on dozens of pounds of muscle, but since I didn’t change your body, you still have to deal with the genetics life has dealt you. You get huge, but you don’t get as big as some of the other gym goers. You’re a jock, but you’re not inhumanly massive. You’re definitely a total stud, but it takes quite some time for you to get where you want to be. I’m not knocking hard work and dedication, but they’re not the only factors and it’s ok to acknowledge that. You may never get as big as you dream… but that's not really why you do it anymore. You’re a jock now, and a real jock doesn’t just workout because they wanna look good, they do it because they love it! Because it’s their passion! That passion and dedication will take you very far, farther than people get on just good genetics. You may never be the biggest guy in the gym, but you’ll get big and enjoy every second of getting bigger.

Of course, that's coming at it from a more grounded viewpoint, and we’re not here to be grounded are we? You want to live out your jock fantasy, and as thanks for letting me do this little experiment with you, I’ll give your muscles an extra little boost! Looks like you will be the biggest guy in the gym after all! With both the right mindset and the perfect body, you’re going to end up a jock bro god. Hope you enjoy it bro! You're gonna have guys throwing themselves at you after this.

[elly99]

Higher Dimensions

Minji x Reader. Established relationship. Heartbreak.

A/N: Another short story based on a movie or two. Curious if you can tell which ones. Coming out of retirement for this one but likely going to be inactive again for a long time. Life stuff. I just wanted to get this story off my chest. Sorry that it's Minji again but usually it's her voice I hear in my head when these stories come to me.

Wonder if anyone will still read this. If you do, hi! I missed you. And if you're new, I hope you enjoy! <3

If you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change anything?

“Hey, baby?”

You're both on the couch. She's in your lap, her head gently pressed against your chest. You know she hears your breathing. And probably the way your heart beats a little too fast when she calls you.

“Mmm?”

She has her phone in her hand, gripping it on one side and allowing the other to rest against you. Your arms are around her. And as you mindlessly watch the TV over her shoulder, they make a subconscious effort to pull her closer, even though there's no space left between. No distance left to close.

“Are higher dimensions real?”

You smile slightly. It was the kind of thing she asked towards the end of the night. When the room grew dark and your minds wandered into their own worlds. When tiredness caught up to you and sleep began to draw its veil over your eyes.

“Why are you asking?”

Only your screens lit up the room, keeping you connected in the darkness. It allowed you to barely make out her smile in return.

“Have you been watching weird videos again?”

She laughs. But it's soft. Barely noticeable above even the sound of the quiet television. But you recognize it. The vibration as it moves from her chest into yours. And you swear you fall for her all over again.

“I just thought you'd be the right person to ask.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don't know,” she pauses. You see a smirk creeping onto her face. “You just seem out of this world.”

Immediately, she buries her face in your chest, hiding the smile that would have definitely stopped your heart if it hadn't already.

“Minj…”

You resort to laughing as well. Pull her even closer.

“So,” she says into your chest before turning her sleepy eyes back up to you. “Are they real?”

Her words were nothing but a whisper now. So you answer just as quietly.

“I mean, they exist in math. And, who knows, they could exist in the real world but we're just not able to perceive them.”

“Is there a way someone could?”

“Theoretically, with a change of perspective, yes. Like, imagine we're beings that live on the edge of a circle. And we can only move along that edge. Kind of like walking along a straight line around the earth.”

You watch her eyes flutter as she loosely follows your fingers trace a circle in the air. Maybe she's trying to imagine it. Maybe she's falling asleep. But you continue anyway, explaining it more to yourself now than to her.

“From that one-dimensional perspective, we basically live on just a line and we have no reason to believe it's anything else but a straight line. But for someone who can see higher dimensions, they can see the curvature. And that there's a whole other dimension above the circle, too. But how we could make that change in perspective, I don't know.”

“Yeah…” she trails off. “But that's cool, though!”

You've heard that before.

“You didn't get any of that did you?”

“I do get it! I swear.”

You content yourself with her answer. After all, who cares if she didn't really understand? Who cares about higher dimensions and different perspectives? This is the only perspective you need. Looking at her when she's here in your embrace. Her touch as warm as the sun. If only you could bottle up this feeling – the way she makes you feel so alive, so loved, like nothing else matters in this world – so you could keep it forever.

But she speaks again.

“And only they can see that you just go in a loop.”

Not even you had considered that. You nod and continue her thought.

“Yeah, you're right! They'd be able to see your whole path at once, while you can only experience it from beginning to end.”

Silence envelopes the room. She lets her phone lock. The TV dims and asks if you're still there. It's too dark now to see her clearly. There was no indication of the passage of time. It felt like an eternity before she eventually makes a sound – a sniffle.

Then she asks, “If you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change anything?”

“I-I don't know. Maybe if something really bad happened, but I don't think so. Would you?”

You feel her shift up to kiss you. Her cheek brushes against yours and as it does you feel the unmistakable touch of moisture. It lingers. Even as she rests her head back on your shoulder. It lingers.

“If I could see my whole life, even if I knew all the good and bad things that would happen, I would always choose you.”

As you both drifted off to sleep, your last thought was that of a promise. That you would do the same.

But that was then.

And this is now.

Your whole life moving in a straight line, on a collision course with this singular, inevitable moment.

It's the same apartment, the same couch, but the lights are blinding now. Every emotion, every expression, every tear and quivering lip was as clear as day. Every word like a knife that you felt so viscerally.

She's crying. Apologizing. Pleading.

You're angry. Confused. Desperate.

“You're telling me you knew this would happen? You never really planned on staying with me, did you?”

“Baby, no! I-”

“Don't call me that.”

You see her heart break in her eyes as you cut her off. But you feel nothing. You can't feel. Not after your own heart was just shattered to pieces.

“So that's it? You're leaving?”

“I don't want to. But I can't… I can't stay.”

Your eyes fall to the floor.

“You always knew didn't you? That we'd have to break up once you debuted?”

Her silence was her response.

“Did I really mean anything to you, then?”

She answers with another question.

“You remember that night you asked me if I would change anything if I could see my whole life? Well, my answer's still the same. I would always choose you no matter how painfully it has to end. Because you made me happier than anyone else.”

She desperately clutches at your hands, hoping that the physical pressure of doing so would force you to understand.

“Then why do you have to… Why did you have to…”

But there's no use asking more questions. You already know all the answers. There's no going back now. This is the only way forward. Your life is a straight line. And so is hers. And they only intersect for a brief, bittersweet moment.

Perhaps it is simply human nature to be bound by this rudimentary linear logic. Who are you to think you can escape it? So you resign yourself to letting her go. Because you love her. You remember your promise. And you accept all the joy that she was, and all the pain that she will be. And you imagine a different world. A circle where there are no beginnings and ends, where time is frozen still. Where you could be with her. Always.

[moorishflower]

Tower and Rose Chapter 9: The Tavern, The Rescue (Dream/Hob)

Tower and Rose || Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || Complete - Posting twice a week until it's done || 85k

Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Mystery, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Elements, Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Threats of Violence, Alternate Universe - Medieval, How many more AU tags can I fit in here, Falling In Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus is Bad at Feelings, Dream of the Endless is Kind of a Dick, Plucky Mercenary Hob Gadling, Dreams vs. Reality, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Minor Violence, Dream of the Endless Can Have Whatever Genitals He Wants, Queer Sex, Nominally PIV Sex But Who Knows With Dream, Anal Sex, Hostage Situations (Technically Hob is being held hostage), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Blood and Violence

After being dared by his friends to take a single rose from the garden of the dark tower outside of London, Hob Gadling discovers that he has inadvertently run afoul of the tower's keeper, a man who calls himself Dream, and who wields powerful magics. To prevent the deaths of his friends, Hob offers himself as a hostage: to be Dream's captive and confidant for all eternity, trapped together in the dark tower. However, once there, Hob discovers deeper and deeper mysteries with each passing day. What is the significance of the roses? What is the beast that roams the gardens at night? Why will Dream offer him no answers, and why can none of his servants speak of the tower's past? And why has Dream forbidden Hob from entering the topmost floor of the tower?

Please note the new tags. There's not really any way to skip this one, but I promise it's only as real as you want it to be, and dreams don't ever really die.

On AO3: Chapter 9: The Tavern, The Rescue

[traumaboyexo]

CARRION!Sif Ghostfrin Event

[[Still pending a better name like Parasite Siffrin or Abomination Siffrin or maybe even a title I dunno]]

"Ah!"

(Isabeau points up ahead. Your heart nearly stops as you look ahead yourself.)

(It's the ghost.)

(Bonnie is the next to gesture towards it. )

"Look! Here!"

(Mirabelle.)

"That's...That really does look like Siffrin, doesn't it?"

(Sure.)

(It looks like Siffrin. Maybe it really is Siffrin.)

(And if they are...)

(Odile frowns. She's clearly the more disturbed of your family regarding this situation.)

"Another one, huh?"

(So they could all see it this whole time.)

(Ghost. Spirits.)

(You thought you were hallucinating it out of guilt, but that makes sense.)

(Monsters don't feel guilt. Monsters don't feel anything.)

(You find your voice once more.) "You guys can see it too, huh?"

(What would a ghost taste like. If possible, maybe if you eat it fast enough, they'll forget it was even here.)

"Yes??? Of course???" (Mirabelle looks at you in confusion. Somehow, you nearly break a smile. The notion that may be crazy has passed through your head more than once, and yet...)

(For her to look at you, so confused, it's almost comforting.)

(Bonnie speaks up.) "Yeah, weird Frin copies!"

(Odile sighs.) "Don't worry, Siffrin. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me as well. Take relief in knowing the both of us are not becoming delusional."

(No, you aren't.)

(Your real problem is so much worse.)

(You reply.) "Thank you. Good to know my brain isn't broken from all my napping."

"So, are we gonna say hi?" (You turn your head and look at Iseabau, doing your best to hide your disbelief and fear.)

(He wants to greet it?!)

"Me too, I wanna see the weird not-Frin!"

(You're on the opposite end of Bonnie's enthusiasm.)

(You're horrified.)

(If it really is Siffrin, if it's really their ghost...)

(What would he say? What would they do?)

(You don't even want to think about it. You don't even get a chance to. Because your family has already rushed ahead.)

(Isabeau's cheery voice rings out first.)

"Hey, ghost Sif! How are you-ah!"

(Almost immediately, Isabeau turns around and quickly covers Bonnie's eyes.)

"HEY! ISA?! WHAT'S CRABBING GOING ON?!"

(Mirabelle glances over at them for a brief second before looking at the face of the ghost herself.)

(...her eyes widen in horror and her legs instantly give out. She would have fallen to the floor if Odile hadn't caught her.)

"Woah. Easy easy, I got you." (Odile looks at the ghost's face herself, and her face turns into one of great unease as well.)

"...gems alive."

(...a slimy wet, sound.)

(...the ghost is melting.)

(Slowly, it begins to droop and drip parts of itself as it becomes smaller and smaller, slowly dropping into a formless sludge puddle of itself.)

(...and then it fades, sinking into the ground...until it's no more.)

(There's a long pause.)

(Everyone is still. Silent. Even Bonnie stopped trying to escape Isabeau's grasp.)

(Isabeau is the first to make any movement, taking his hands off Bonnie's eyes.)

Bonnie: "...what happened?"

Bonnie: "There was a scary...wet sound and-"

(Mirabelle exhales heavily. Her voice and breath is shaking.)

Mirabelle: "O-oh change..."

Mirabelle: "I...I..."

(She looks over at you.)

(She's terrified.)

(...everyone else is staring at you the exact same way.)

(...you have to know.)

"So? Did it have a third eye or something?"

(...that was suppose to be a joke. You smile during jokes. You forgot to smile.)

(Odile seems to have noticed that.)

(She is the first to answer you.)

"...Siffrin."

"You're not hurt anywhere again, are you?"

(...huh?)

"No?"

"No cuts? No bruises or scrapes?"

(Wouldn't matter.)

"No."

"How about...headaches? Naseau? Feeling dizzy? Are you unwell in anyway, Siffrin?"

(Why won't she tell you.)

"No!"

"Really? Absolutely sure. Remember last time, we didn't realise you had a cut under your arm until-"

(You need to know!)

"I said I'm FINE! TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!"

"...what did you guys see?"

(She continues to stare without a response.)

"Uhm...I'll be on explaining duty then, M'dame." (Isabeau walks away from the group and pulls you aside, while Bonnie, Mirabelle and Odile start to discuss amongst themselves.)

"Don't be too hard on M'dame Odile, what we saw was just...a little scary is all."

(Scary? How?) "It didn't seem like it did anything."

"It...didn't. That's why it was kinda scary."

"So, it was standing in front, and we went up to it, cause it was kind of strange it wasn't facing us."

"And luckily I was the first to see it, or Bonnie would have seen it as well."

"It didn't flinch when I called out to it. It didn't even try to look at us."

"It's face was..."

(Isabeau looks uncomfortable even trying to remember it.)

(...You have to know.) "What? What about the face?"

"Yeah yeah, sorry, it was...Uhm..."

"...well, it was covered in scars. Bleeding scars. And its eyes were...gone? Its mouth was open, and it kinda looked like..."

"...like if someone had died, standing up, and refused to sit down."

"But then its lips started moving like they were trying to talk. But I didn't hear a noise voice or noise or anything."

"And then...well, then it started to turn into goop, and that was it."

"So you can see why Mirabelle was so startled, she was already super stressed, but I think...I think it'll be fine."

"And, don't worry about M'dame Odile, you know how she is. She's always worried about us, even if she won't say she is."

(...)

(Startled.)

(Worried.)

(Haha.)

(Hahaha.)

(Ha.)

(...Mirabelle and the rest are walking towards you now.)

"Sorry about that...it was just a little overwhelming...but I feel better now."

(She shouldn't.)

"But Siffrin, if anything is ever wrong...please make sure to tell me. O-or any of us."

(You won't.)

(Maybe if you're hungry.)

(But not about....)

(Odile continues to frown.)

"Siffrin."

(She stares for just a few more moments, before looking away.)

"...nevermind."

"I think we've wasted too much time. We should get going."

(...they're afraid. You made them afraid.)

(Why couldn't they have just stopped. Why couldn't they have just ignored it.)

(WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE STAYED STILL AND LET IT FADE AWAY!)

(You're always worried they won't care about you, but for once now you regret making them care!)

(You're disgusting, you're selfish, you're horrifying.)

(They've seen it, NOW THAT'S ALL THEY'LL THINK OF YOU WHEN--)

[REWIND]

"Ah!"

(Isabeau points up ahead.)

(Bonnie is the next to gesture towards it. )

"Look! Here!"

(Mirabelle.)

"That's...That really does look like Siffrin, doesn't it?"

(No.)

"I don't see anything."

(Even without looking back, you can feel everyone's confusion focused on you.)

"Sif? You really don't see the...ghost you?"

(You don't respond.)

(You wait. And wait. And wait.)

(...and soon...)

(...it's gone.)

(...you feel hungry.)

[doraambrose]

When it comes to the Victim Blaming Grief coping one of the big things that makes it an issue is that he actually did it to Jason's face (in Hush as it was retconned to be Jason he said that too).

And, when Jason comes back it stops being grief for the dead, it becomes grief for the wounded. And people victim blame people who were hurt too. This is how they cope, however this coping mechanism always hurts the victim and is a genuinely bad coping mechanism that shouldn't be used. It's harmful. It's harmful to the victim and it is harmful for the other people who might be grieving. It's probably one of the most selfish coping mechanisms.

I've experienced people using this method in real life and it's rough. And it's toxic. Saying you can't criticize the way someone grieves is flawed because you are rarely the only one grieving and I personally have been harmed during a period of shared grief. And I am sure other people have been too because grief brings out the bad in people but that doesn't mean all is forgiven.

Like, imagine if Jason was just comatose and all the victim blaming happened and then Jason just woke up and found out all Bruce had been saying about him? Would Jason's feelings be justified then?

Also, saying the deceased person doesn't matter when they die disregards a lot of religious and spiritual beliefs around honoring the dead.

I feel like Jason is as justified as any other person harmed when someone copes with toxic way in being upset. Jason's death is also a traumatic thing that happened to him. Centering Bruce's feelings while disregarding Jason's as unjustified doesn't feel fair. Especially considering the incident where Bruce took Jason to Ethiopia to try to trigger Jason's memories of what brought him back without his consent.

(Sorry if this was a bit much, I've experienced a decent amount of the bad sides of grief in my life and feel strongly about it)

Okay, so I feel like I need to re answer my previous post because I was struggling to find the right words and also at work, but I think I've figured it out.

One thing to keep in mind is when we talk about feelings, grief, and emotions, there's not a set right or wrong. I also mentioned that I don't like the word justified in this case because it sounds like right or wrong. I did use it at the end, but I'll get into that here. This is a very gray area subject matter and that makes it tricky and you're never gonna find an answer that everyone agrees with because it's not really as fact based as if I said "batman wears a cape sometimes" or "dick grayson is nightwing".

The first thing that comes to mind for me is what my therapist tells me when I feel guilt over feelings. She would tell me "anything you're feeling is valid, you're allowed to be upset, angry, sad, jealous, etc. It's how you act on those feelings.. something I can't remember atm lol". So when I say jason isn't justified, I'm saying that he's allowed to be upset and angry and his feelings are valid, it's not right to actively take it out on the family and hold it against them and be sort of malicious or harmful. And i know theyve done that plus some towards him, but its important to remember that you can only control your own actions and even if someone is being toxic and harmful, that doesnt mean you should too. I think I didn't explain that right and there was some miscommunication. I also wanted to explain why I felt that jason would be angry.

As for this comment, both of these asks were right. Grief can be harmful and toxic. And before I say what I'm going to say next, keep in mind that I'm discussing grief alone and not any of the stuff post utrh that Bruce has done to jason that's harmful and abusive. This toxic kind of grief doesn't make the person a bad person. They can't help it. It's your brain going crazy to try and cope with something traumatic. When my dog died, I wanted to sue my vet, even though they didn't really so anything wrong. It's easier to have someone in front of you to blame. I'm not saying it's right or okay, but it does happen and it can be harmful, but you're not a bad person for it. (In Bruce's case, he's a bad person for all the other shit he's pulled outside of this)

I think these two asks are like at the opposite ends of this topic and I think it's something that you can meet in the middle with. So basically

Yes, grief can be toxic and harmful, but it's also very much a subconscious phenomenon and it's extremely personal and different for everyone and alot of times, people are unaware of what they're doing.

Because of that, jason can be hurt by it, he can be angry,etc. His feelings are valid, But it's not fair to activey hold that over Bruce forever, which he doesn't, this seems more like a fanon thing btw. But it also doesn't hurt to apologize afterwards.

I think when you say that the idea of not critiquing the way someone grieves is flawed, it comes off as unempathetic. Because as someone who has had to grieve alot of the past few years, it's the worst feeling. And your brain is literally scrambling to cope with it so you don't actively lose your shit and sometimes it ends up with some unhealthy Coping mechanisms. And you're usually unaware of what you're doing. I feel like you're not thinking of how the other person is feeling or what they're going through. And fair is fair, they need to see what you're feeling too and actively try to remedy things at some point, there just needs to be more patience and empathy all around and trying to remember that this person is not always intentionally being malicious.

I'm a religious person. So I see where youre coming from, but nobody said the deceased doesn't matter. I think the point was more that you don't have to worry as much about how that person is feeling or thinking because they've moved on to a better place, you should focus on self care and doing what's best for your mental health.

I am also 100% not trying to center around Bruce's feelings and discredit jasons, in fact, the last post was 100% about jasons feelings.

In summary, there's not "justified" or "right" or "wrong". It's super complicated, varies from person to person, and is a tricky subject matter. Everyone's feelings are valid and there definitely needs to be more empathy and patience on all sides, but there are still actions that have been made on both sides that aren't the best and can be hurtful or toxic. I hope this all makes sense and I worded it right :)

[umbreonkin197]

Journal of a Questioning Otherkin (Entry 4)

I don't understand why regardless of how strongly I experience the euphoria of being nonhuman, my brain still finds reasons to doubt itself.

I'm certain that I'm nonhuman/therian/otherkin in some way, but I keep having doubts on if Umbreon is really my true self, despite all the things I've felt and experienced that have pointed me here.

How do you know that you're a pokemon? How is an Umbreon supposed to act? How am I supposed to help myself feel more like an Umbreon? At least if I was an animal in the real world I could look up some sort of answers.

It feels like being a pokemonkin is such a small niche that I'm struggling to find any answers. The people I've asked say, "I'm not sure, just follow your instincts!" But what do I do when I've suppressed them for so long that I can't find them anymore?

I wish these anxieties would leave me alone. I wish I could find some semblance of peace with the identity I've found so far. I wish I had somebody to talk to who actually understands what I'm going through, or who even understands anything about Otherkin at all. I wish I could just wake up and be myself. My actual real true self.

I feel lost, confused, alone, and still not sure if this is even who I am...

[redheadspark]

June Prompt Session

Hello darlings and HAPPY PRIDE!

We are diving right into June and Pride month and I am SOOOO excited, it's a favorite month (also because it's my birthday month!). I wanted to wait a minute to do another prompt session since I was moving and wanted to focus on cleaning and sort my new space.

This is one of my fav prompts to right since we need to see more of this in fan fiction and in shows for that matter. And since we got a taste of this in the new season of Bridgerton, I decided I can write this for our new session.

This Prompt Session Theme is :

Friends to Lovers

Here are my rules:

1.) You may choose ONE character from my list Here. It’ll have the list of characters that I write for or have written for in the past.

*(If you have a character not listed that you wish for me to write, PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND CLEAR IT WITH ME FIRST TO SEE IF I CAN OR WILL DO IT!)*

2.) There are Twos Prompt lists for this session, so please request the numbers you wish for me to write.

Please provide BOTH the numbers you would like (Both the scenario and dialogue) AND the character to pair it with.

Example: May I have Azriel from ACOTAR with #5 for Scenario and #3 for Dialogue?

*I write out the requests as a first come first serve. I will try my best to fulfill every request that comes my way, but please bear in mind I work full-time as a teacher. Because of that, I’ll be busy most of the day so please be patient and I’ll write in my spare time as much as I can :) *

3.) If I get two requests that are exactly the same, (same character and same number) I will only write it once! Please don't be afraid to ask if someone has already requested the character and number, I don't mind answering that for you :)

4.) You can request in my ASK box neither as yourself or anonymously. Although I would LOVE to give you a shout if you request as yourself, anon is perfectly fine!

5.) I will stop taking requests for this prompt session on Sunday, June 23rd, at 3:00 PST

6) Have fun and enjoy :)

This Prompt Session was created by @creativepromptsforwriting

Dialogue Prompts

“We can’t go on like this. Like friends is all we are.”

“You know I love you, right? But maybe in a different way than you think…”

“We’ve known each other for so long. I can’t imagine my life - myself - without you anymore. And I really don’t want to.”

“I was always jealous of them and it took me some time to realise why.”

“Everyone is already thinking that we’re dating.”

“You and I together… would that be weird?” “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“We’re already basically an old married couple. What harm could it be to try it out for real?”

“I’m just scared of losing you.” “Don’t think of it as losing, it’s more like evolving. You’re not losing your best friend, you’re getting something extra.”

Scenario Prompts

Growing up together means that so many of their memories and experiences involve the other person, that if they talk with other people who never met their friend, those people still feel like they already know them.

Having had sleepovers together since they were little, it’s not uncommon for them to sleep in the same bed.

They have always known each other better than everyone else, so becoming teenagers and starting to change their behaviours in groups and having different hobbies is putting a strain on their friendship.

Because they have always been best friends, they accompany each other to every event, to family parties, sport events and school activities. When it’s time for their first school dance, they naturally want to go together, but they are at an age now, were this can become a little bit awkward.

Having so many inside jokes that just the two of them know, that other people often don’t understand their humor.

They had been best friends in their childhood, but then one of them moved away and they lost contact. Meeting each other again by accident and seeing someone they once knew everything about, but who is now basically a stranger is a weird feeling.

They have always been close and they are very comfortable with casual affections, hugging each other, laying their head in the other’s lap, even holding hands.

Having pet names for each other, that no one else uses, which confuse some people.

When they were in elementary school, they created a secret language to avoid their teachers reading their notes they passed back and forth in class. Now one of them uses that language to write a love letter.

There was always that one place they would both run off to - to escape parents, annoying siblings and just the world in general. They haven’t had contact in a long time, but when things get rough, they both end up in their safe place again.

Once again, I will no longer take requests on Sunday, June 23rd, at 3:00 PM PST

Happy Requesting and Happy Pride!

Tagging -@a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heliosphere8 @virtueassassin @ethereal-athalia @heartofwritiing @valeridarkness @pemberlyy @saradika @basicrese

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Scraps to a Tank

Chapter two

2.5 k words

Fandom: Redacted Asmr/Audio

TW/CW: Quinn in other words toxic, controlling, abusive relationship. nothing graphic. This is a Boxing/Fighting Au so there is fighting, i wouldn't consider it graphic, but everyone's different so read with your own discretion. Homelessness. Yelling.

Let me know if I missed a trigger or spelling mistake.

Please comment and reblog, it lets me know people like my stuff and encourages me to write more!!!!!!

Two months later

Honestly, Darlin was expecting this to be easier for them.

But two months had passed and David still wouldn't let them in a real ring.

It was more than frustrating.

Day after day, hour after hour they would fight the same two people.

And that was if David was feeling nice.

Most days it was just punching bags and lifting.

They were itching to do more.

To fight new people.

To fight in a ring.

In front of an audience.

The adrenaline from that was something they craved.

Even when it was staged, and they lost. Hearing the crowd's reaction. Feeling the blood dripping from their face. Feeling the sweat cover their body.

They were an addict.

And David was keeping them sober.

They were using their frustration to attack the punching bag. They weren't planning on stopping anytime soon.

" You don't seem too happy"

Darlin's new friend, sweetheart intersects. Sweetheart watches as they take off their gloves, seemingly done with their practice for the day.

Darlin huffs.

Sweetheart watches for a while. After a minute or two they look around, no one else is in the gym. So they propose an idea

" would you want to spare?"

Darlin stops punching the bag, excitement distracts them, barely stopping the bag before it could swing back.

Darlin takes a few large breaths, catching the lungs up.

Sweetheart starts strapping their gloves back on

" No one's here, you wouldn't get in trouble"

Sweetheart walks away, yelling to account for the distance as they climb into one of the rings

Darlin smirks grabs their water, and takes a large sip before practically skipping to the ring sweetheart resided in.

" I'm not worried about that"

Darlin climbs into the ring. Sweetheart cocks an eyebrow

"Oh, so what are you worried about then?"

Their voice drips with a taunting tone

Darlin bounces on their feet a little

"You. Not sure if you remember the last time we fought."

Sweetheart lets out a short but genuine laugh.

"Oh, I remember. I remember letting you win."

" so you're saying you let me headbutt you"

" yes, in fact, I told you so seconds before you did it"

" I don't recall that."

Darlin was lying, this was just a little friendly shit talk before a fight. To ramp them up, and it was working.

Both fighters were ready. They circled each other while holding eye contact.

They both knew the first swing would come at any moment.

Darlin planned to Strick first, but first, they gave one more small push with their words

" must be the hit you took."

Darlin felt the signals in their brain move to take action, a simple swing to sweetheart's left cheek. But before anything connected, a voice boomed from across the room

" What do you two think you're doing?"

David

Both fighters dropped their hands.

Darlin rolls their eyes as Sweetheart whispers an apology

Darlin doesn't let up though. They were tired of this

" What does it look like we were doing?"

They didn't dare call him any names but they really, really wanted to

" What it looked like was you two were about to fight. When you both know you're not supposed to."

Darlin shaped back

"And why's that? We're both awesome ass fighters, so why can't we have a little sprawl"

David looked to sweetheart. They knew the answer, at least their answer.

"You want to know?"

Darlin rolls their eyes and lets their head fall back in annoyance

"Yes. Are you even listening?"

David began to walk to his office

"Fine. Wash up a meet me in here"

Darlin's eyes lit up, and they immediately headed to his office. That was before David glared them down.

" I said to wash up first"

Darlin took a breath, holding back the anger they felt. They forced a tight smile and walked away and toward the locker room.

In minutes they were sitting in David's office. David sat at his desk. Darlin on the other side. Without saying anything David's turned the computer screen toward Tank

The screen shows a steady shot of two fighters.

Darlin and Asher.

Darlin remembers this fight, there wasn't anything special about the fight.

They just remember because David set up a tripod.

Being filmed didn't change how they fought.

It was a good fight. They lost but they always lost. But the fight still felt amazing.

So why film it?

It was like every other fight they had with Asher.

So why show them it?

David Interrupts their thoughts.

" I want you to pay attention to Asher. See how he fights from this perspective."

Darlin leaned back into the chair, already annoyed with this task

" I've seen Asher fight before."

David sighs

" I know, just- just watch the video"

They do as he says, though they're more focused on how intently David is watching them.

They felt belittled

He didn't trust them.

Not like he should

They really didn't see the point in watching a video when they saw Asher fight, I  person about a hundred times now.

They figured if David was going to watch them so closely they might as well do as their told.

They focus on Asher, their fight is about halfway over at this point. At least that's what the recall. There's no indicator of who's winning yet. Just two fighters, fighting.

Then Asher laughs

He's known for his laugh

He's named after it.

Tank begins to roll their eyes at the obnoxious sound, it was pointless really.

But then they caught something.

Asher's body was practically split in two.

The side closer to Tank was moving one way. Fast, a clear attack.

But the other side was staying back just a little bit.

Darlin watched as they blocked Asher's first attack only to be thrown off and hit, square in the face by Asher's other hand.

Darlin remembers that.

He did that move a lot, but they never caught the pattern until now.

Because from the opponent's view, there is nothing to see.

It is invisible.

Tank is drawn in now.

Asher pulls the same trick over and over till he wins.

Though it is not the same, it is always a different move, a different combination. He has no clear dominant hand. No clear strategy. Not to the opponent at least. The only sign is that laugh.

It's a giveaway

But he still gets away with his sneak attack every time.

David watches as Tank's brain starts to pick at Asher's moves.

He glared door it but he's afraid their missing the big picture.

" Now watch you"

Darlin is actually interested now.

It's like their not even watching themselves because all they can think about is how stupid this fighter has to be, to fall for Asher's trick

David restarts the video

Darlin watches themselves very intensely. And yet they noticed nothing before the video ended

They were perfect. Practically at least. All their throws were strong, their timing was amazing, and their blocks were fast.

So what was wrong?

They looked to David

Hoping he'd help

Reluctantly he questioned

" What difference between the two of you."

"Well, Ashers did that thing."

"No. Not what you did differently. What is the difference between the two of you."

"Well, he is Asher and I'm Tank. We're different people."

David tries to relax, Tank was definitely his most frustrating trainee

" How are you two fighting, that is different?"

"Repeating the same question doesn't help. And we are both trained by you so nothing."

David looks into their eyes, he blinks. He's annoyed.

" Then why did he win? You are both trained by me and both lift the same amount, your strength is equivalent. Why did he win?"

" I.don't.know"

Tank wanted David to answer for them.

David refused to let that happen.

"Watch again. This time watch your chest and face. Ashers too."

Tank held eye contact with David.

David didn't back down either

" you'll watch this video until you figure it out."

Tank sighed before letting their eyes move back to the screen.

Once again the video played. And though they wanted to pay attention to the punching, they did as David said.

They watched their chest, move up and down consistently. They watched how fast they were breathing, how fast their chest reddened and covered in sweat. They looked over at Asher, it was completely different. He was still sweating but his breathing was slow.

They look back at themselves. They pay attention to their face, their eyes were rapid. Focused on Asher's arms.

Ashers were sharp, staying locked onto Tank's full body.

The video ended.

David asked again

" What is different between you and Asher?"

"We breathe differently."

They were proud to find the answer

" So?"

They weren't so proud anymore

"So what? The question was what was different. And now you're asking more."

" yes. I am. So why is the breathing important?"

" How the hell am I supposed to know. You are the teacher, you're supposed to tell me."

David doesn't reply, he waits for them to work it out

" So what if I'm fast, I move fast, so I breathe fast, s9 my eyes move fast."

"Why?"

It became too much too fast. They jumped out of the chair. They pushed past David and left the office

" I don't know David. God do you not understand that."

David followed the stubborn fighter out. He knew they were getting there.

" Fighters fight differently. So why does it matter if I was sweating more or if my eyes were watching his arms? Why was he watching my body? I mean the real question is why wasn't he paying attention to my arms? Why wasn't he fighting as hard as I was? Does he not see me as a real competitor? It's infiltrating. I'm good, maybe not perfect, but I'm a good fighter. It makes me so angry. How am I supposed to focus when I'm this fucking angry?"

They go quiet, fast. Then they mummer the last sentence again.

The realization makes them angrier

Their to fucking angry

“Fuck! It's cause I'm too angry. Right?

David's face confirmed exactly what they thought.

“I need to be angry David! That's all I have, it's all I have. I need it. I need it to be strong, it's how I live!”

David was a teacher

A great one

Because he cares

Even if it wasn't always obvious

But at this moment Tank could see it clearly

David stepped closer wanting to be some comfort

Tank stepped back.

They weren't scared

Not of David

Just what he was trying to do

As much as they wanted to turn around and run away, never returned.

David was right

He always was

And they were in the best position they've ever been in their life.

They were stronger and still learning

They were surrounded by people who wanted that

Who helped them both as a fighter and a person

They were surrounded by friends

They didn't notice when tears started to flood their eyes

They refused to notice the tears

They got quieter

They don't remember the last time they were this vulnerable

Or just vulnerable

“It's how I got away David”

David stayed still

He could understand to an extent

They needed to be heard

He knew any interruptions could make them run.

so he stayed still.

“I can't let the anger go, as soon as I do I'm done. So don't, don't tell me that the problem.”

David let the silence settle

Tank sniffled

When David felt it was safe he spoke

“ You don't have to let it go”

Tank scoffs

“ You don't. How badly do you want this? To be a fighter, a great fighter?”

The energy in the room shifted

“I need it, David”

Tank's voice was almost desperate. David knew they wanted to say more but something stopped them.

“ Then you have to listen to me. Don't let go of your anger, it will be useful. Store it, let it build. Let it build and use it when needed. You don't need to be angry at Milo, Asher, or sweetheart. You need to save that anger for a real fight, when your dignity is on the line when your opponent doesn't see you as a worthy opponent. For now, you store it. While you learn how to fight without it.”

For a minute the tension in the gym was suffocating.

Then Tank laughed and smiled at David

“That's the Best advice you've ever given”

David's lips lifted, just enough for Tank to consider it a smile

“Thanks, my dad said something similar when I was young. So it's mostly his advice.”

“ don't sell yourself short, David.”

“You're one to talk.”

The two stood there with partial grins. The conversation was over, it was clear to both of them yet no one was leaving.

David was expecting Tank to leave, everyone else was gone, and the gym was officially closed

“Do you need something else?”

David asked with his normal amount of annoyance in his voice

“No”

Tank answered

“ then you are free to go”

Tank's face changed to one of realization, though David thought it to be one of exhaustion

Tank finally looked away and made their way toward their bag. Once they grabbed it they headed to the door.

David right behind to lock it after they left.

Tank grabbed the handle and pulled before letting go and spinning around rather quickly.

“ David, I don't want to leave”

David was reaching his limit for the day, he didn't want to play any more games with Tank.

“Too bad, I'm kicking you out, go home.”

David reached around and opened the door for Tank. The cold hit him quickly as he stood outside waiting for Tank.

But they just stood there

“That's the thing, David, I don't have a home.”

Even though they had a strange lightheartedness, almost joking tone to their voice. David was fast to take this confession seriously. He slowly walked back in allowing the door to close

Intimidated and scared, Tank backed further into the building and started to overshare

“Ive been staying here. I don't use anything that's not mine. I just sleep.”

David held down his distaste about Tank staying before asking. He wanted to focus on the fact that they were in need.

“You can continue to stay here, just make sure you clean up before anyone shows up. And for future reference don't ever do shit like that behind my back.”

“ Of course, the first time it was an accident. Still sorry for not asking. I don't really make enough to pay you what I should but I do have some-”

“ no, I don't need your money Tank.”

“But I-”

“You staying here doesn't change how much rent or utilities cost, that is as long as you aren't taking extra showers or anything. So I don't need the money, you just save up while you stay here so that you can get a place.”

“Thanks, David”

“Yeah, no problem. Ive got some paperwork to do in my office. I'll lock up now and say goodbye before I go.”

[kirayaykimura]

im begging, pls explain the nail polish in the fridge thing!! is it to make it like,,,keep for longer? and if so how did you figure that out, i'm genuinely SO curious!!!

i like drinking the polish cold rather than at room temperature

[idyllic-affections]

i can't STANDDDD the abyss sibling. in my case, it's lumine. anyway i can't stand her. imagine your sibling chasing after you, pushing themselves to their limits JUST to find you--to find answers about you because they love and miss you more than anyone else--and when you finally decide you will see them again, what the fuck do you say? NOTHING OF VALUE?????? and you just go on your way, acting like you don't give a fuck????? when that's literally your only family, you walk away without reassuring that you do care for them and it's just that you have your hands tied or... fucking SOME explanation for why you won't talk??????? the abyss twin does not care about the other at all i swear. like imagine making your allegedly "beloved" sibling stretch themselves so impossibly thin just to find you instead of using your words and, idk, talking to them???? i would just stop looking for them at that point fuck that. anyway this is just a pet peeve about the genshin storyline. it's so annoying.

(i am not an only child btw. i do have an older sister.)

[minakoaiinos]

Lost my original post of this from the other day but I genuinely don't understand how Black Butler discourse ever shifted into the does Sebastian ~really~ like Ciel or is Ciel just dinner line of conversation that is pervasive as it is because Sebastian is the one that has absorbed his whole existence into Ciel's. Sebastian's face is what Ciel wants Sebastian's whole purpose is doing things for Ciel Sebastian's every hell of a butler yes my lord speech is about how he's Ciel's and Ciel is the one going around saying shit like whatever Sebastian is just my pawn 💅

[icewindandboringhorror]

Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

The discussion about the mistrust of the player character in PLA had me thinking a bit about this whole "outsider to the outsiders" thing going on.

While the player character is very innocent and not deserving of the shunning, I think people tend to interpret the betrayal as a sign that the village(of outsiders) doesn't like outsiders at all which is obviously not the case. They are literal refugees, traders, farmers, academics, etc from all around and they are very much trying to reach out and incorporate the clans into their relations. So that's not why they turn on you.

It's more of your standard rumor mill witch trial born from you falling from the sky(where the spooky rift is!) in a big showy spectacle. Then having strange clothes and an almost inhuman ease with pokemon that even the experts who have been training and studying with them cannot fathom. Now these new problems have started and the magical sky person is the only one who can fix it! Witchcraft!

YES EXACTLY!!! oooooh this ask made me so excited when i saw it in my inbox you have no idea. like, an argument can be made that the clans are isolationist, especially wrt each other (and early dialogue abt mai also suggests that jubilife and the clans are also still relatively remote but that's off topic), but by nature jubilife can't be the same way. kamado even self-describes the galaxy team as a "group of outsiders" in hisui. a security corps guard jokingly refers to them as the "Ragtag Expedition Team." so to say that they're fearful of strangers, or don't easily accept them, is clearly wrong.

not only that, but there's a list of galaxy team principles framed in the player's house, and one of them is "Those who are weaker must be helped." so like, while kamado & other people in the team tend to be rather harsh about everyone paying their due, it's really not a matter of like, disliking new people in the team, y'know? it's more about the fact that survival in hisui is difficult, and they're constantly fighting an uphill battle to sustain everyone, so there really is basically no wiggle room for anyone to not contribute whatever they're able to, which is something that's reiterated over and over in the early game. (also there's like, a considerable amount of old/older people in the village, which to my understanding is fairly unusual for this kind of project since it demands so much physical labor under trying conditions, so presumably that also contributes to the sense that everyone's jumping on this strong able-bodied young person. and also i'm curious about the reasons behind that demographic being so well-represented. this is me getting sidetracked that's just a thing i've been wondering about.)

anyway yeah. the reason ppl are distrustful of you is that you FELL OUT OF THE SKY. you have no past but some ambiguous link to the crack in reality which people already see as some kind of bad omen or worse. and then you're like, instantly all buddy-buddy with these creatures that most people not in the survey or security corps are scared shitless of, to the point of being terrified to leave the safety of the village for fear of encountering any. like that's the other thing to me is that your talent with pokemon isn't just seen as weird, to people already scared of them it would probably be actively really intimidating. especially since you don't have the credentials of prior training, like zisu and the rest of the security/survey corps do! they're just taking it on faith that you do know what you're doing. even if you're very nice and helpful, the more fearful jubilife people would probably see you as a passive threat to the village on account of all those weapons of mass destruction you're casually carrying around in your back pocket that may or may not even be under your proper control.

& then like you said, the rumor mill has its way with you, compounded by the situation with the nobles, and by the red sky event, i mean, i don't think most of the village hates you. not after you've done so many fetch quests for all of them whwjkwhk. it's just that they're quietly sort of afraid of you, which is not at all an emotion negated by how helpful you've been. and that's why you get kicked out.

[lunarharp]

wip thing...

of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)

they mean the world to me