Braddicted - 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙩 Workshipping

George Clooney as Danny Ocean & Brad Pitt as Rusty Ryan in Ocean’s Eleven (2001)

Honestly, every single fic about Danny/Rusty (Ocean's Trilogy) might just be the most beautiful thing to ever exist on this planet. I mean, George Clooney and Brad Pitt are already some of the most stunning human beings to ever walk the Earth—no one even comes close. (Pitt was the first of the two to grace PEOPLE’s Sexiest Man Alive cover in 1995. Clooney followed in 1997 and 2000, and then Pitt made a legendary comeback in 2006!!!)

But I swear, the words that Ocean's fanfic writers craft about Danny/Rusty are even more exquisite than the actors themselves. No, I’m not exaggerating. You’d understand if you ever let yourself fully absorb and appreciate the sheer beauty woven into their writing. These works are filled with deep psychological character studies, layered with scenes where the two of them explore each other’s bodies after pulling off history-making heists.

It’s the ABSOLUTE PEAK of everything. Or honestly—if there’s a word beyond “peak,” that’s what it is.

Their words have the power to reach straight into the heart of any reader—like a path of flowers leading gently toward the deepest corners of the soul, like cool spring water flowing through the mind.

There is no such thing as a bad Danny/Rusty fic—no matter the tone, length, or style—has something special to offer. I’ve never been disappointed. Every single one is a gift. I love every bit them (Seriously. I might end up quoting the entire fic because every line made me feel SO MUCH emotions).

As someone who’s read, reflected on, and mentally archived a considerable number of Danny/Rusty fics, I can say this with full pride: this fandom, though it may be a tiny grain of sand in the vast ocean of the internet, is truly one of the most precious things out there—a place where fanfic writers are among the most gifted, most intuitive, and most emotionally literate creators I’ve ever seen.

guys, guys, guys, guys 🗣👨🏻‍🤝‍👨🏼👨🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻‼️

WATCH YOUR WALLETS

#oceanseleven #dannyocean #rustyryan #clooney #georgeclooney #bradpitt #angelinajolie #mensstyle #mensfashion #menscloset #fashion #style #suits #suit #suitstyle #tuxedo #tux #bespoke #menshair #lifestyle #luxury #actor #film #hollywood #gentlemanblueprint https://www.instagram.com/p/B2NlBOJJs3F/?igshid=165ry4h6kng5e

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH HE'S SO SO SO NERVOUS NOOOOOOO MY BABY

*momomon theme playing on loop*

Well, yes, I write about George Clooney and Brad Pitt being gay gay homosexual gay boyfriends

I mean their chars:

🍓 Danny/Rusty (Ocean's)

🍓 Jack/Nick (Wolfs 2024)

🍓 Seth/Jerry (From Dusk Till Dawn 1996 x The Mexican 2001)

Here:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/braddicted4ever

I have the urge to draw Joe Black in a Czech folk costume (some Moravian one probably) carrying out Morana (something like a scarecrow symbolizing slavic goddess of death)

Making up stuff like this makes me kinda forget about the fact that the film is 3 hours long and about painfully rich Americans.

oh.

i have to write one bout Rusty Ryan soon

10 Quiet Ways Your Character Is Breaking Their Own Heart (And Pretending It's Fine)

These are the betrayals that aren’t loud. They don’t come with fireworks or screaming matches. These are the small, slow deaths. The ones that your character lets happen... while smiling politely.

» They say yes when they desperately want to say no. Every. Damn. Time. They show up when they're exhausted. They agree to things they hate. They make themselves smaller, softer, easier, because "good people" don’t make waves, right? (Spoiler: they're drowning.)

» They keep chasing people who only love them halfway. It's not even subtle anymore. They know these people leave them on "read," show up late, make them feel like an afterthought. But they cling anyway, spinning every scrap of affection into a story about hope. (It’s not hope. It’s hunger.)

» They refuse to believe good things are meant for them. They’ll hype everyone else up. They’ll believe in everyone else's dreams. But when something finally good lands in their lap? They’ll panic. Push it away. Tell themselves it was a fluke. (Because being disappointed feels safer than being lucky.)

» They’re waiting for closure that will never come. An apology. An explanation. A miracle where someone says, "You were right, and I was wrong, and I’m so sorry." They wait years. Decades. Lifetimes. But deep down, they know: some people never come back. Some stories just end without punctuation.

» They’re hoarding all their "almosts" like treasures. The job they almost got. The love that almost worked. The version of themselves they almost became. They replay those maybes like a greatest hits album. (Meanwhile, real life is slipping by while they mourn possibilities.)

» They’re performing a version of success they secretly hate. Look at the Instagram. Look at the LinkedIn updates. Look at the shiny exterior. It looks like winning. But every trophy they collect feels heavier, not lighter. Every promotion tastes a little more like ash. (Turns out, chasing someone else's dream is still losing.)

» They forgive people who aren’t sorry. Not because they’re enlightened. Not because they’ve healed. But because it’s easier to pretend it didn’t hurt than to sit with the fact that it did—and that the person responsible doesn't care. (Some wounds scar better when you stop pretending they were accidents.)

» They punish themselves for still being soft. The world told them, again and again, that soft things get broken. And they believed it. So every time they feel too much? Every time they cry or hope or trust? They tell themselves they’re weak. Stupid. Embarrassing. (They're not. They're just still alive.)

» They downplay their own magic. They call their talents "lucky breaks." Their beauty "average." Their intelligence "no big deal." They shrug off compliments like they're dangerous. Because deep down, they've been taught that being remarkable makes you a target.

» They cling to the idea that if they just work harder, they'll finally be enough. They believe in meritocracy like it’s a religion. That if they hustle hard enough, self-sacrifice deep enough, burn themselves to ash perfectly enough, someone, somewhere, will finally say, "You're worthy now." (They were always worthy. The system is just broken.)

i fucking agree with the Aldo Rizz god lmfao

ALDO RAINE DON'T TELL ME YOU WEAR "NOTHING" TO SLEEP

i can't--- i can't, no, i mean... 🛐🛐🛐🛐

IB content bc i said so