𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 . . .

[ofgrief-a]

not quite ready to write yet but i’m over here now.  once i am ready to write, i’ll be transferring all of my drafts so don’t worry !

[ofgrief-a]

probably going to remake this blog once i come back from my little break because i’ve had it for a year now  (  almost anyway  )  &  my formatting has changed so much since then, the inconsistency bothers me skfhdkfdj

[neverbeyours]

goodbye smooch and goodnight ba-bang

[ofgrief-a]

𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙿𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚃 :   @darkenedhearts​. 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁    ⁄    DUSTIN  &  TRENT.  ㅤ ㅤ   in three seconds, it had ended. ㅤ ㅤ   one, two, three. ㅤ ㅤ   quick, but not painless. ㅤ ㅤ   hair sweat soaked from the humidity of july, yet neither had bothered to shower; stripped themselves of their gear in the silence of the locker room and dressed in the clothes they’d worn before. before they’d squandered the championships, before their careers had become uncertain. they’d lost before. they’d lost numerous times. dustin thinks, now, that losing is all he and trent are good at. born to fail, maybe. two waywards by fate, destined for failure, whether they be together, or whether they be apart. he’d thought he’d be used to it, by now. not good enough at baseball. not good enough in school. not good enough at wrestling. he’d thought he’d accepted mediocrity, failure. he’d thought he’d accepted it. ㅤ ㅤ   he looks at trent, one of his hands outstretched. but trent looks at the window. not at the buildings, not at the florida palm trees, not at the reflection of dustin’s desperation   ——   he looks at the window, at nothing. dustin looks away, hand withdrawn, at the back of the passenger’s seat, into the gray of the leather. he breathes in, sharp and quick. trent’s mother cranes her neck to look at him, worry in the furrow of her brow. he laughs, strained.    ❛  car sick.  ❜    with his eyelashes wet and his face red. ㅤ ㅤ   if trent looks, he doesn’t notice.

ㅤ ㅤ   to the cautious words of trent’s mother, to the radio’s quiet ballad of the nineties, dustin lowers his head, the heels of his hands against   ——   pressing into   ——   his eyes. almost crying in the backseat of his friend’s mother’s mini van, to nirvana’s smells like teen spirit. ㅤ ㅤ   this fuckin’ sucks. ㅤ ㅤ   he showers alone. trent showers after. he sits at the edge of the bed, toweling his hair. trent sits at the table in the corner, headphones in. the silence is nauseating.    ❛  dude,  ❜     dustin tries feebly.   (  at least he knows it’s not him he’s angry with.  )   he pushes off of the bed and walks toward him.    ❛  trent,  ❜     he tries again, yanking one of the headphones.    ❛  quit. quit being so shitty, dude. come on, just  ——  ❜    he groans, loud and desperate.    ❛  please, man.  ❜     he tries to grab at trent’s hand.    ❛  we don’t gotta think about it. come on.  ❜    he interlocks their fingers and jostles trent’s arm.    ❛  i need a kiss, too. but not a mom kiss. a wet boy,  ❜     he teases, before scowling again.    ❛  come on.  ❜

[ofgrief-a]

DARKENEDHEARTS  /ㅤ TRENT BERETTA ,

❛  yeah ?  well,  neither did i——— not in a bad way !  but,  i don’t know.  talkin’s hard,  man  ❜ eyes closed,  taking a deep breath.  it should’ve made him feel better   (  and in some ways,  it did  )   hands slightly shaking,  but then again,  when are they not.  back facing dustin,  who’s feelings have been revealed.  his stomach gurgled,  almost convinced that he was going to vomit,  yack,  if you will.  but this was good.  they were in agreement on something,  that never really happened.

                         but as soon as the confidence in trent,  in each other,  was built

                                                        dustin knocked it down

he wasn’t trying to berate dustin,  to  diminish  him,  make him seem like  less of a man  because of the position that he chose   (  in any regards,  that makes him more of a man— shit probably hurts like hell  )   beretta let out a soft chuckle as he moved back over to the couch,  sitting a little closer to him than he initially was   ❛  a lot of maybe’s.  you sound tooootally sure of yourself  ❜   leaning over and pushing at his shoulder.  coordination wasn’t really his strongest at the moment,  so trent sort of,  fell over himself.  head landing right on dustin’s thigh,  hard.  touched his cheek   ❛  fuckin’ ow.  boney ass legs  ❜   still,  not moving from that spot   ❛  i like your legs though  ❜   mumbling as he finally moved up from his spot,  patting his thigh.  leaning back into the couch,  staring at the bland ceiling with questionable stains.

                                           still felt like he was gonna fucking puke.

not looking him in the eyes when he spoke   ❛  why’s there gotta be,  like,  a dude in the relationship ?   ❜   not really realizing how much of a stupid question that was,  they were two men.  there were going to be men in this—— wait ?  did he just say relationship.  fuck,  fuck,  fuck.   ❛  not like,  we’re dating—— or anything,  like we just fucked,  but i do.  really,  really care about ya’.  like a shit done.  i get real—— i’ll try,  and get real around you.  if that’s,  uh,  what it takes  ❜   he didn’t even have control over his mouth anymore.  not even his brain could stop the word vomit   (  it never did,  but we can pretend  )   ❛  but—— why can’t we just.  fuckin’  be !  yanno.  just be us,  putting a label on us,  would make it weird.  weirder,  i don’t know.  i’m  drunk  man,  don’t make fun of me tomorrow  ❜   covering his face with his hands.  taking another deep breath.   ❛  i care about you,  dust.  ❜

                                                         and it was fucking gross

ㅤ ㅤ   trent collapses against his knee, and dustin flinches, nigh on jerks his knee into trent’s jawline.   (  not the time for the sexy chuckie knee.  )   through his teeth, he breathes in, looking away from trent, still against his knee and thigh, and at the stuccoed ceiling.    ❛  you that drunk off ‘a natty lights, dude ?  embarrassing, brother. real embarrassing.  ❜    as though his heart weren’t wild against his ribcage, as though his face weren’t red and hot. he swipes his tongue across his   (  dry and chapped  )   lower lip.    ❛  you like my shitty little girl legs ?  uh huh.  ❜    the night of new year’s eve reciting again and again in a reverie, dustin is appreciative of trent finally pulling away from him. ㅤ ㅤ   he swallows a mouthful of beer. ㅤ ㅤ   again, he breathes in through his teeth, before he laughs.    ❛  'cause we’re both dudes ?  ❜    he laughs, but trent’s words  ——  not like, we’re dating  ——  cause his heart to annoyingly ache.  fuck.  leg bouncing, he bites at the inside of his lower lip, fingertips tap, tap, tapping at the beer bottle.    ❛  i ‘unno, man !  you’re talkin’ all fast an’ shit, you’re kinda freakin’ me out,  ❜    he says, nigh on whining. he pulls at the natural light label, fingernails underneath the material, into the adhesive.    ❛  i jus’ don’t want you to think ——  i don’t know, man, i just don’t want you to think lesser ‘a me for it. i know you’re not that kinda guy but i don’t know, dude. maybe i’m just  ...  projecting on you, or whatever. ‘cause i liked it a lot, and that’s embarrassing, man !  ❜    with his face red and hot, with his eyelashes wet with tears not quite shed, he’s also appreciative of trent hiding his own face.

ㅤ ㅤ   he pulls roughly at the label, hands trembling.  fuck.  he scuffs his shoes against the carpet.    ❛  ...  liked it as much as i did ‘cause it was you, man.  ❜    he breathes a laugh, abashed.    ❛  that sounds so fuckin’ sappy, man. fuckin’ gross, dude.  ❜    he breathes in, and again, hands trembling harder, rougher. he swallows acid, bile and beer in his throat.   (  he hadn’t eaten since the night before.  )   he rips the label, adhesive underneath his fingernails.    ❛  don’t sleep with anyone else,  ❜    he all but demands, looking at trent. teeth grit, working his jaw  ——  difficult, but he looks at him.    ❛  just me.  ❜ ㅤ ㅤ   he rips the label again, shreds of paper, silver and blue, gathering at his knees.    ❛  ‘cause i don’t wanna be with anyone else, man. just you. for a while.  ❜ ㅤ ㅤ   he’d been in love with him for two years. ㅤ ㅤ   ❛  please.  ❜    regardless of how pathetic his voice is, he smiles.    ❛  don’t make me look like a fuckin’ idiot, man.  ❜

[allelitewrestlings]

(+ bonus)

[therageratsea-deactivated202203]

𝐈'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.

kayfabe & headcanon based | selective | oc and crossover friendly.

[ofgrief-a]

CALLOVS  /ㅤ SETH ROLLINS ,

seth had never shared a TIGHT relationship with patience and he didn’t plan on starting with it today   .   he had enjoyed the small moment of tenderness   ,   his sharp words adding the type of spice to the situation that he liked   .   and when dean pulled on his hair so roughly that he was sure SOME of the slim string snapped   ,   he wanted noting more than to kiss him for the attempt of putting seth down   ,   for the ATTEMPT of dominating him   .   but that’s all it was to seth   ―   an attempt   .   a compliment here   ,   a soft touch there and he knew   ,   he’d have dean back in his palm   . 

❛   you take that little act with the chair far too personal   ,   ambrose   .   you know it was a business decision   .   so calm down   .   ❜

not that seth really wanted that but pretending he did would hopefully just tweak THAT nerve in dean   .   the two toned knew   ,   ambrose wouldn’t just ditch him because he stepped on his feelings   (  or rather ran them over with a truck but who cared about details anyway   )  .   ❛   you’re not mine   ?  so you won’t be bothered if i share my bed with someone else tonight   ?   ❜   and jealously   ,   that was something NEITHER of them handled well   .   because all could go wrong   ,   they could beat each other until they needed a hospital and they could break each other’s heart over and over again   .   but there was no room for ANOTHER person between them   .   ❛   you’re lying to yourself if you deny it   .   you need me   .   you fucking love me   .   no matter if i’m scum or if i’m your dog’s shit   .   nobody can give you what i give you   !!   ❜

seth didn’t even find himself interested in another person but he wanted to trigger a reaction from the dirty blond   .   he wanted to see his feelings shatter for him   ,   wanted to hear him BEG if possible   .   if one thing was for sure   ,   dean wouldn’t leave him   .   never   .   he couldn’t   .   because of he did   ,   seth would drag him back into his fangst if he had to   .

ㅤ ㅤ   ambrose laughs again, stilted and strained  ——  to intercept the scream, of choler, of desolation, embedded within his throat. once more, he swallows blood and acid, irritating nausea.    ❛  a business decision,  ❜    he quotes, a growl rough, quiet in a gored, acrid throat.    ❛  you’re a sellout. a goddamn sellout.  ❜    his fingernails scratch into the athletic tape at his hands, bloodied and sweat-soaked from the night’s competition, the roughness and savagery.    ❛  you stabbed me and roman in the back.  ❜    he and seth would argue, and argue, and argue, but neither man would concede defeat, obsessional to the warfare. ㅤ ㅤ   again, rollins expels the knife further into an already bleeding heart.

ㅤ ㅤ   teeth grit, bone scraping against bone, ambrose breathes in, and breathes in again, and again  ——  rough and strained, ribcage aching. the knife had hit against the sweetness of ambrose’s anxieties: abandoned, unneeded. his fingertips tap, tap, tap against his collarbone, head tilting from the left, to the right.    ❛  oh, yeah ?  where you gonna find ‘em, huh ?  no one else can stand you, seth. only ——  only a lunatic can, right ?  ❜    he nigh on growls out, as though he were a cornered animal, baring its teeth. ㅤ ㅤ   then, a smile ghosts the edges of his lips, however cruel the smile is, crooked and askew, showing teeth  ——  animalistic, almost.    ❛  you do that, and i’ll go find someone else, too,  ❜    he says, fingertips pulling at the fabric of his own shirt.    ❛  i’m not th’ best looking but, fuck, someone’ll be happy to. hell, maybe roman.  ❜    he dislikes mentioning roman in his and seth’s disputes   (  roman had endured enough  )   but in fighting dirty, roman reigns is the ace in ambrose’s sleeve. he laughs again, scuffing his sneakers against the locker room’s floor. ㅤ ㅤ   ❛  so go fuck someone else then, seth. roman’ll fuck me good.  ❜    he inclines toward seth, still smiling, all but aroused by seth’s imminent snap.    ❛  better than you, maybe.  ❜

[dritydeeds]

[ofgrief-a]

RECIPIENT :   @callovs​. CONTINUED   ⁄   AMBROSE & ROLLINS.

ㅤ ㅤ   teeth bared, grasping at the fabric of his shirt ‘til his hands tremble and his knuckles strain, dean looks at seth, eyes wild and wet. but he’s not afraid, not truly. dean ambrose is a street dog, angry and violent, teeth gnashing  ——  he could destroy seth, fingernails into his throat, crescent moons etched into his skin, as he asphyxiates him. he could destroy seth, but he doesn’t, for he loves him awfully, blood oozing from a heart afflicted by toxins, mutilated by the switchblade of seth’s amour, his mania for him, for hurting him in a travesty of affection. but dean loves him, the man he’d been before. but dean loves him, the mania, the possession. a street dog recoils at maltreatment, but nothing loath, he suffers, for a street dog yearns to be needed, to be loved.

ㅤ ㅤ   with the embrace, seth twists the switchblade, and dean swallows the blood and acid in his throat. he rasps a laugh, pulling at seth’s shirt, hands furling and unfurling at the fabric.    ❛  you’re scum of th’ earth, seth,  ❜    he breathes. he pulls his hand away from seth’s shirt, and he intertwines his fingers into brunet and blond hair, a lock of blond twisted ‘round his index finger. he grits his teeth.    ❛  what’s hunter doin’ to your head, huh ?  you’re a goddamn monster.  ❜    he grabs a fistful of seth’s hair, and he pulls, hard and rough.    ❛  build me back up jus’ to watch me fall, that’s it, isn’t it ?  huh, huh ?  ❜    all but snarling, he shoves at seth’s chest. ㅤ ㅤ   ❛  i’m not yours. you lost that when you stabbed me in the goddamn back !  ❜    never one for normalcy, he enjoys the volatility of his and seth’s affair, the shoving, the yelling, the angry, desperate hands. the push and pull, how seth fights for him, fights to dominate him, the street dog, for a street dog yearns to be needed, to be loved, to feel wanted.

[depravcd-a]

                                                   𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓   𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄   𝐘𝐎𝐔   𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄?

[callovs]

𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑪𝑯 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑪𝑨𝑵'𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑪𝑯 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬

[dritydeeds]

I really thought you would be different, but you’ve turned out to be just like everybody else.

[ofgrief-a]

WHERE DO YOU HOLD YOUR LOVE? / DUSTIN.

IN YOUR TEETH.       LOVE HAS ITS UNEVEN EDGES   but it is something you sink your teeth into. with love you give all of yourself over and feel everything as it happens  -  good and bad. for you love can be a fight, whether it's hard won or hard lost    (  or hard to hold on to  )   love has a way of leaving it's impression in your skin. it's not that it hurts, it's just that it knows your tender spots and seems to hit those first.

WHERE DO YOU HOLD YOUR LOVE? / MOXLEY.

IN YOUR HEART.       YOU HOLD YOUR LOVE IN YOUR HEART.   love is intrinsic, inevitable, love is the beating core of everything; love is also hard to talk about. your love comes out with more rareness, mostly shows up for the big things in a big way  -  this doesn't mean it doesn't beat for the small stuff, you feel it all, in fact you feel it more intensely than most which is why it's so hard to get out. you hold your love inside you because it matters, it might be the only thing that does.

TAGGED BY.   @darkenedhearts​  &  @eraofviolence​ TAGGING.   @lavmisc​ for whichever muse you’re feeling,  @depravcd​ for sami,  &  @deadmenanddemons​ for whichever brother !

[allelitewrestlings]

A SHOT OF BRANDI | episode 27 (moxley edition)

[neverbeyours]

[allelitewrestlings]