#<- not really but i might send her this i do think shed get a kick out of it

[topguncortez]

Hii👋

Maybe some ❛ here we are, home sweet home. ❜ with Jake Seresin for 3 k

Thank u

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Shy!Reader (not wifey yet) warnings: it's so damn fluffy you might shed a tear. Opposites Attract Masterlist | Hangman Masterlist Main Masterlist | 3 fucking K celebration

Jake was ready to take the next step. It might've been a bit too soon- hell, it was a bit too soon. But four months was long enough to know when you met the right person, right? Jake knew it was absolutely insane that he was planning out how he was going to propose to Y/N in his head, but he didn't want to send another second apart from her.

The two of them had been spending almost every night at each others houses. The first time Y/N had stayed over at Jake's was completely by accident. They went out mini-golfing and ended the night at his place watching the Legally Blonde movies (which Y/N pointed out that Jake and Elle Woods were the same person). Sometime during the movie, Y/N fell asleep on Jake's chest and he didn't have the heart to wake her up and let her drive home. So instead, Jake asked Y/N if she wanted to stay, and he even offered up his room and he'd sleep on the couch. It took both of them by surprise when Y/N said that they can share the bed.

The night was a little over three months ago, and in that time each others belongings had been scattered among the two homes. Early mornings were spent driving home after spending the night wrapped in the warmth of each other. Jake didn't like watching you leave, knowing you were going home to your house alone. It wasn't that you couldn't handle your own, it was that Jake worried about you going home late or arriving home by yourself. There were too many weirdos in the world for Jake to sleep comfortably about.

"What has you all wired up, Bagman?" Javy asked, leaning on Jake's desk, "This about the girl?"

"Yeah," Jake sighed, running a hand down his face, "Do you think I'm moving too fast?"

"You wanted to tell her that you loved her on the third date. . ."

Jake rolled his eyes, "That's true," He sighed, "I'm thinking about asking her to move in."

"Shit, already?" Javy said, straightening up a bit, "You really care about her?"

"I would propose her tomorrow if I could," Jake said, "I've been looking at rings and everything."

"I don't think I have ever seen you this crazy about a girl, Seresin."

"She's the one for me. I see her and I see my whole future. I see a house in San Diego, near her parents, maybe get to be an instructor or some hotshot pilot, I see us having like four or five little ones. I can't see my life without her and I don't want to live one either."

Javy smiled, knowing that it was the exact way that he felt about his girlfriend Valerie. He clapped his friend on the back, "Ask her. And do it soon, before she figures out that you snore and talk in your sleep."

"I do not snore."

"Keep telling yourself that buddy," Javy patted his shoulder before walking back to his desk.

--- --- ---

Y/N looked through the curtains of the big bay window, waiting for Jake to arrive. She had been at work when Jake texted and asked if she was down for dinner, and she agreed. She had a mountain of second grade math homework to look through, but she wasn't going to miss a chance to get dinner with her favorite guy.

A smile rose to her face as Jake's familiar ford f-150 pulled up into the driveway. On the very first date, Y/N made a joke about how you can take the man out of Texas but not Texas out of the man. Y/N met Jake out on the front porch, giving her that megawatt smile and pink carnations in his hand.

"For you," He said, and kissed her hand, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Y/N blushed furiously.

Jake knew that she wasn't about to lean in and kiss him, not when Mrs. Lockheart next door was as nosy as she was. The small cottage house that Y/N rented was right next to a retirement community, and she had made friends with a lot of them. It made Jake smile seeing her spend so much time caring and talking to her elderly neighbors. He made mental note to take Y/N home to Texas to meet his nana someday.

"I'll go put these inside," Y/N said and Jake nodded. Quickly, Y/N put the carnations in the same vase as the other ones from the week before were. Anytime Jake took her on a date, he always showed up with pink carnations. Partly a nod to the first song that they had listened to on their first date.

"Ready?" Jake asked and Y/N nodded. He grabbed her hand and led her to the truck. He helped her in his lifted pick-up and made sure she was all buckled before shutting the door and jogging to the drivers side.

Jake made a reservation at their favorite seafood restaurant down by the pier. Y/N loved their fish and chips, and Jake always got some sushi that made Y/N crinkle her nose. They talked about each other’s days and how work went. Y/N hardly understood a word of what Jake was talking about but she was always so intrigued. It’s what made Jake love her so much, that she was actually interested in what he did and asked questions about it. They once again argued about who was going to pay for the meal (Jake had already slipped the waiter his card when Y/N was in the bathroom). After they ate, they decided to get ice cream from their favorite place and walk down the pier. 

That’s when Jake’s nerves really started setting in. 

He had a spare key made after his conversation with Javy, and it was currently burning a hole into his jeans. He was terrified of what she was going to say. Of course the worst she could say was “no” but Jake wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to handle that. Everything had been so perfect between the two of them so far and Jake was starting to think maybe he was reading this all wrong. Y/N had noticed him become distant, his hand not gripping hers as tightly anymore. 

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked, looking up at him. Jake snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at her. 

‘Now or Never, Bagman’ 

Jake didn’t say anything as he set his ice cream dish on a nearby bench, and got down on one knee. Y/N sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide. 

‘Is he proposing? Oh my god! I didn’t even wear my good white shoes!’ 

“I’m not proposing,” Jake said. 

“Oh thank god,” Y/N sighed in relief, “I mean, not like that.” 

Jake chuckled, “I will one day. Just not today, but I want to ask you to move in.” He held up the brass key that was in his pocket, “I don’t like going to bed without you. And it doesn’t have to be everything. It can be like a drawer, or a toothbrush. But . . I can’t sleep another night without you in my house.” 

Y/N bit her lip, as a blush came across her cheeks. She set her own ice cream dish down, and reached into her purse, retrieving a very similar brass key out. 

“I had one made for you,” Y/N whispered, “I was going to ask you, but I was too scared.” 

Jake shook his head and stood up from his kneeling position, “Only us would do this.” Y/N giggled, and Jake pulled her in for a hug, “So you’ll move in? Like to my house?” 

“Unless you want to be woken up by Mrs. Stone’s bingo parties. They can get pretty rowdy.” 

“Damn, I’m not sure if I can move away knowing I’ll miss Thursday night bingo,” Jake frowned and Y/N giggled, burying her head into his chest. 

“But yes, I will move into your house with you, Jake.” 

Jake wrapped his arms tightly around her as he spun her in a circle. A shriek came from her lips followed by continuous laughter. Jake set her down, and kissed her quickly, knowing that she probably felt the eyes of onlookers on her. 

“Well, we better get going. I got packing to do!” 

— — — 

Three days later, Y/N was carrying a box in her hands up the sidewalk to her new home with Jake. He had a cute little two story house that was right between the base and the school. He walked a bit ahead of her, also carrying a box of her things. He set the box down, and reached into his pocket grabbing his keys to unlock the door. Y/N went to open the door but Jake stopped her. 

“Wait!” Jake said, and then covered her eyes with his hands, “Close your eyes.” 

“Jake, I have seen your house before.” 

“Yes, but it is no longer just my house, it's your house. . . Our house,” Jake said and Y/N broke out into a large smile, “So close your eyes for me.” 

“Only for you,” Y/N said and closed her eyes. Jake removed one hand to open the door, and then carefully guided her through the front door of his house. 

Her nose was filled with the familiar scent of his house; sage and the hint of jet fuel. She could feel the warmth of the home, and it felt so inviting. She never felt like a stranger in Jake’s house, and she felt even more at home than ever before. Jake kicked the door closed with his foot, and continued to guide her into the living room. 

“Alright, Here we are,” Jake said and took his hands off her eyes. Y/N opened her eyes slowly and looked around at the living room that was now partially her’s. Not a single thing physically had changed since the last time she was here two days ago, but everything had changed emotionally, “Home sweet home.” Jake kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. 

There was a moment of silence as the two of them just soaked up being in each others embrace in their home.

"What do you think, sweets?" Jake asked.

Y/N sucked in a breath before answering, "I think we need throw pillows." She looked up at Jake, who had a bright smile on his face.

"You're lucky I love you."

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 4)

7.6k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, more enemies-to-lovers, some sexual references, Roy Kent starting to realize he's a pining fool

Series Masterlist

As I sat at my desk, I stole a glance into the Greyhounds’ office. There was Roy, sitting at his own desk, arms crossed, staring up at the tits drawn by an eight-year-old child, although I could tell by his stony expression that he wasn’t really looking at the drawing. He was thinking.

It had been almost a week after the team retreat, and he still hadn’t really looked at me or talked to me, not since we sat on the floor of that little shed and talked about “fairy tale shit”. Part of me had thought that something was about to happen as we sat there, something I hadn’t realized I could even be interested in, but Roy had ruined whatever that was. After we left the shed, he avoided me in a way that made the prior weeks seem downright warm and friendly.

During the rest of the retreat, he’d pointedly leave the table when I sat down for meals, completely shut down in our small group unless directly spoken to by anyone that wasn’t me, and on the bus ride home, without Rebecca instructing us to sit with anyone in particular, he’d made a beeline for the Greyhounds’ bus and sat with Jamie Tartt, who I heard looked both surprised and pleased to have his coach next to him for two hours.

Being back at the Dog Track was just as bad. If I walked into a room, he found a reason to leave. When we passed each other in the hall or when rotating use of the pitch, his phone was suddenly incredibly interesting, even if all he was staring at was a black screen. And he was no longer running next to me in silence after work while Lust Conquers All played overhead; instead, I caught him pulling up to Nelson Road an extra hour before his usual arrival time to use the empty weight room.

But I didn’t care. Not at all. Nope, not me. Roy Kent could do whatever the fuck he wanted. It didn’t matter to me one bit.

I turned my gaze away from the Greyhounds’ office and refocused on the email I was writing, letting Keeley know that a local paper, The Richmond Star,wanted to do profiles on some of the Whippets and asking her what I could do to help.

“The Richmond Star?” Lucas hummed, hovering over my shoulder. “That wouldn’t happen to be the newspaper of one George Willows, would it?”

My cheeks suddenly felt warm. “It might be,” I answered coyly as I hit SEND on my email. I turned my chair around to face my assistant coach.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Interesting.”

“Why’s that so interesting?” I snorted, knowing exactly what he was about to say.

Indeed, his smile turned wicked. “Oh, just that I keep seeing that particular name light up your phone every five seconds. And your interview with him was supposed to only be about a half hour, but the two of you sat in here for like two hours.” He leaned forward. “And I heard a certain coach hates him.” His wide eyes told me that he was relishing sharing that bit of gossip.

“Beard? Nate?” I asked, playing dumb, as if I hadn’t watched Roy Kent confront George in the hall the day of that two-hour interview. “They’re too nice to hate anyone.”

Lucas shrugged, glancing through the window I’d been staring at earlier; Roy was typing now, hopefully completely out of earshot of this very childish conversation. “All I know is that if you go out with George Willows, you might be ruining your chances with Kent.”

My face was now on fire with annoyance. “Oh no, whatever will I do? The guy who hates me won’t want to go out with me if I go out with a nice guy?” I hissed as I turned back to my computer, opening a spam email so I could look anywhere but at Lucas or Roy Kent. “Besides, it’s not like George Willows has even asked me out. And as for Roy fucking Kent-”

I stopped talking when I saw him get out of his chair. As he exited his office through the locker room, his eyes shifted towards our office, landing on me. For a fraction of a second, I saw that look I’d seen in the shed in the woods, the one when I swore his gaze flickered to my lips. The soft expression was quickly replaced with an icy glare and matching scowl before he disappeared into the locker room, his gruff voice commanding his players to hurry out onto the pitch.

My point proven, I looked at Lucas. “Oh yeah. That man is dying to go out with me.”

~

Roy stared at his phone with a deep frown. He hated having her phone number; more than once, when he was home alone with a drink in his hand, he found his thumb hovering over her name, tempted to text her or- even worse- call her. He wasn’t sure what the fuck he would even say, but he knew one of these days he was going to fuck up and hit that button.

Not that there was a single text between the two of them; they were, however, in a couple of group chats together. Right now, there was a new message for the two of them from Rebecca: Come to my office please.

Without a word, he showed the text to Beard, who simply nodded, immediately understanding that Roy wanted him to take charge for a bit. Wishing he had an excuse to avoid this meeting, maybe even meet with Rebecca one-on-one instead, Roy trudged back into the building and began to make his way to Rebecca’s office, grateful that he could at least walk alone.

Alone until he felt someone fall into step beside him. He didn’t need to turn his head to know it was her; and if he did, he didn’t know what he’d say. Unfortunately for Roy, she decided to fill the silence.

“We’re not in trouble, are we?” she asked, her voice almost light. “I mean, we haven’t even been in the same room long enough for us to argue.

Roy didn’t even give a grunt of acknowledgement. Instead, he picked up his pace ever so slightly, hoping she’d take the hint. Instead, she sped up as well, walking entirely too close for his comfort. When her shoulder bumped into his, he swore his whole arm felt like it was on fire.

Two incredibly long minutes later, they arrived at Rebecca’s office, where their boss sat at her desk, looking, for the first time, happy to see the two of them together.

“My managers!” she greeted, gesturing for the pair to sit down across from her. “For once, no one is in trouble,” she assured them with a wink, as if she knew what they were thinking. “The exact opposite, in fact.”

Roy tilted his head, relieved he could focus his attention on Rebecca. “Everything alright?”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically. “Everything is great.” She turned to the other coach. “You feel ready for your first match?”

There was that cocky grin. “Oh absolutely. Next Saturday, we make history. The first of many Whippet victories.” Her voice was so confident, so sure. It managed to be simultaneously infuriating and attractive.

“That’s my girl,” Rebecca chirped with a wink. She turned to Roy. “And you fellas?”

Roy cleared his throat and sat up. “Yeah, feeling good. Got Crystal Palace here at home, should go in our favor.”

Rebecca nodded. “Excellent. Should be a good opening weekend all around.” She twiddled her thumbs, clearly wondering how to pivot to whatever she wanted to talk to them about. “I don’t want to add to your workload,” she started slowly, clearly intent on adding to their workload. “But at the retreat, I was watching your teams play that silly little game after their practice time. The one-on-one scrimmages?”

“Oh, that was great.” The American turned to Roy. “We should try that here sometime.”

Not wanting Rebecca to see him ignore his fellow manager, he nodded with a small grunt. Apparently enough of an answer to satisfy both women, since Rebecca went on.

“It was fabulous to watch. Really reminded me how much talent we have here, on both sides.” Her smile began to grow, green eyes sparkling. “So, I sent Keeley a video and we began chatting about how fun it was to see both teams together like that…” She shrugged. “And we’ve decided to have a little exhibition match.”

Roy leaned forward. “An exhibition match?” he repeated incredulously.

Rebecca nodded. “We’ll split each team and half and combine them so it’s a mix of Greyhounds and Whippets. You’ll each manage one of the teams.” She glanced at her computer. “You’ve both got a weekend off in five weeks, so that’s when it’ll be.” She was beaming, that same proud smile she’d worn when she first told the Greyhounds about the women’s team. “And Keeley thought we could make it a charity event. Half the proceeds to my foundation for underprivileged children, the other half to a charity of the winning manager’s choosing.” Her eyes shifted between the two gaffers. “So?”

Roy wasn’t surprised when the Whippet’s coach broke out into a grin. “I think that’s incredible,” she gushed. “It’ll be a great opportunity for the community to see us as one team.” She glanced at Roy. “What d’you think, Kent?”

Her asking for his thoughts was surprising. “I think it’s fine,” he blurted out. “I mean, good. Good idea, Rebecca.”

That was exactly what she was hoping to hear. “Excellent! I’ll have Keeley and Higgins get right on advertising and tickets and just-” Her smile looked like it hurt, it was so wide. “This’ll be fun. So fun.” She cleared her throat, composing herself. “Right. You two just have to worry about creating the teams and choosing your charity, then.”

“The Women’s Sports Foundation.” Roy had never heard someone answer so quickly.

Rebecca nodded. “Of course,” she chuckled. “Roy, just let me know when you’ve picked-”

“BMA Charities,” Roy blurted out. Rebecca blinked at him. “I mean, I’ll probably check in with Beard and Nate, but…” He shrugged. “I like ‘em.”

Next to him came the sound of someone clearing their throat. “BMA?”

Reluctantly, Roy turned his head, his eyes finding hers as if by magnetic force. “British Medical Association,” he clarified, pretending he didn’t feel like there was an elephant on his chest. “They do shit for doctors and med students.”

“Oh.”

Why did Roy want more than “Oh”? Why did it matter what she thought of his charity?

And why, once they were dismissed from Rebecca’s office and had walked down the hall to head back to their respective trainings, did Roy wish they could’ve walked together just a little bit longer?

~

For nearly a week, my first Game Day outfit hung up in my bedroom. The entire week before was spent selecting each piece carefully. My most flattering jeans, Richmond-blue blouse, white blazer, and the white low-tops I’d bought especially for the occasion.

As I cuffed my jeans, I looked at myself in the mirror. Yes. Good. Professional, sporty, and- dare I say it?- pretty. My first few months in England had been a blur of soccer, soccer, and more soccer, which hadn’t left me any time for… extracurricular activities, as Lucas put it.

In fact, the closest I’d gotten to dating would have to be at the club when Roy Kent thought I was hitting on him. Yeuch. Maybe Lucas was right, maybe I should get on the apps or something.

I shook my head at my reflection with a groan. Seriously? The morning before my first game in England, and there I was thinking about dating? Good Lord, Gloria Steinem was going to revoke my feminist card if I didn’t focus.

Determined to keep my eye on the ball, so to speak, I finished getting ready, throwing my hair into a ponytail and saving my red lipstick for last. I had worn this bright red lipstick my first time coaching a professional game and had won 5-0; it had become my good luck charm after that. Never went to a game, or a press conference, or an interview without it.

“Look at you,” Lucas greeted when I opened my door, looking at me over the top of his sunglasses. “Soccer Coach Barbie.”

I gave a little twirl, laughing at my friend’s praise. “You feel like winning, Luke?”

We walked into Nelson Road with smiles on our faces and Whippet water bottles in our hands. There was an electric buzz in the halls, and I couldn’t help but notice the particularly bright smiles on the faces of the women who worked for A.F.C. and W.F.C. Richmond. The biggest smile was on Keeley’s face, which we saw as soon as we walked into our office.

“Big day!” Keeley squealed as she pulled me into a hug. “You excited?”

“Very,” I confirmed, giving her a squeeze before letting go.

Keeley stepped back and looked down at her phone. “So, we’ve got a bit of pomp and circumstance before the match. Introduce the team, and you, little speech from Rebecca.” She winked at me. “A few words from our fearless manager. Then we go out there and kick some ass!”

After Keeley’s little itinerary, the rest of the time before the match was a blur. Players strutted into the locker room, pride on their faces when they looked up and saw their names above their lockers- a change made to celebrate our first match. After today, they’d be changed to reflect both players who used the locker, but today the Greyhounds insisted on letting the Whippets have their moment to shine.

Lucas and I spent some time in our office, reviewing our starting lineup and plays we wanted to keep in our back pockets. I did my best to ignore the goosebumps that formed every time I looked at the clock and saw the time inch closer to game time, but I found myself beginning to bounce on my toes.

I almost confused the buzzing of my body for the buzzing from my phone.

My office please.

Normally, Rebecca’s texts made my heart freeze, but not today. Today was a good day. The best day. I practically skipped to her office, feeling weirdly aware of the feeling of my sneakers hitting the ground. My eyes travelled over the photos of the Greyhounds’ history, of the men- coaches, players, owners- who made A.F.C. Richmond what it was. And it dawned on me that we would someday be on that wall- me, Rebecca, Keeley, Lucas, the magnificent women who were now changing into their Whippets kits for the first time.

By the time I reached Rebecca’s door, tears were threatening to fall.

“You wanted to see me?”

It was the millionth smile I’d seen that morning, but it was easily my favorite. Rebecca looked as if she was about to explode at the sight of me, looking glamorous as ever in her dress and coat- a coat that I noticed bore a little W.F.C. Richmond pin.

“Are you ready?” came her whispered question as she approached me.

“More than ready,” I assured her, a tingle going through my whole body as she took my hands in hers.

She gave my hands a squeeze. “I just… needed to say thank you,” she said. “Thank you for taking such good care of this…” She blinked a few times, her eyes shiny with tears. “I feel as if my child is going for her first day of school, I’m just so proud. I love the Greyhounds, but this is the very first thing that has ever been mine. All mine.” She shook her head. “And I am so happy that you are our manager.”

“Oh, Rebecca-”

Rebecca released my hands in favor of pulling me into a hug. “We’re going to win,” she hummed. “We’re going to win the whole fucking thing.”

I carried Rebecca’s words with me back through the building as I returned to the locker room, where my team would be waiting for one more pep talk. People nodded and waved to me in the hall, each moment of acknowledgement adding just a bit more weight to my shoulders.

“Oi.”

Just outside the locker room, I turned around. Roy Kent was a few paces behind me, hands in the pockets of his Greyhounds jacket. He gave a nod as he walked up to me.

“Good luck out there.”

It was probably the kindest thing he’d said to me since we’d met. Maybe the second kindest, after our moment in the shed.

“Thanks,” I stammered out. “You getting ready for your match already or something?”

To my surprise, he shook his head. “Here for your match. Rebecca asked us to come, show solidarity or some shit.” He shrugged. “So, I just thought I’d wish you luck.” He paused, glancing at the wall beside us, one that held a photo of him in a Greyhounds kit, running on the pitch. “It’s kind of scary,” he mumbled. “Your first match as a manager.”

“I’ve managed a team before,” I reminded him, giving a little cough into my closed fist. “But, you know, new country and all. Still scary as hell.”

“Right. Right.” He gazed at me for a moment, his eyes locked onto mine. I wondered if the shiver I felt was from the air conditioning or the intensity of his stare. “Well. Go get ‘em. Or whatever.” With a small grunt, he turned and walked away. Before I went into the locker room, I turned to look at him again. At that same moment, he turned his head and glanced back at me. As soon as our eyes met, he whipped back around and picked up his pace.

Weird.

But I couldn’t focus on that. My concentration needed to be entirely on the game.

“Alright Whippets!” I called as I entered the locker room. “Are we ready?”

I had rehearsed this speech for weeks. In bed before I fell asleep, in front of the mirror as I brushed my hair, in the shower while I avoided getting shampoo in my mouth, even to Lucas on a couple of occasions. And now I stood in front of twenty-seven talented women, ready to hear it.

“Alright, here it is,” I started. “Our moment. You are the first women to call yourselves Whippets. Wear it proudly.” I took a deep breath. “Never forget why you’re here. Never forget that feeling you had the moment you fell in love with this sport, when you knew that nothing else would make you as happy as being out there on that field.” I saw some wistful smiles appear. My own mind wandered to that afternoon my grandfather had taken me out to the backyard, the afternoon I knew I wanted to play soccer forever. “Remember that little girl who fell in love with the feeling of the ball at her feet. And go out there and play for her. Because today, we’re going to help the little girls of Richmond fall in love too.” I stretched out my arm, watching my players follow suit until all of our hands were in the center of the locker room. “Let’s go show them how the Whippets do it.”

There were cheers of agreement as a lump formed in my throat. I nodded to Kira Malone. “Captain?”

“Whippets on three, Whippets on three! One, two, three!”

“Whippets!”

~

Roy sat in the owner’s box next to Keeley, fiddling with the case on his phone, needing to do something with the burst of energy he felt. It only grew when the Whippets were introduced and took their places lined up on the field, bouncing with excitement as their names were called. Roy, of course, clapped along with the rest of the crowd, determined to be supportive with everyone in the box watching him.

“And the manager of your W.F.C. Richmond Whippets-”

A buzzing began in Roy’s ears. He watched as she took her place beside her team, the smile on her face evident even from where he sat. She looked gorgeous. Strong, joyful, confident. The sight set his whole body aflame.

He tried to focus on Rebecca’s speech, he really did. He knew this was a big moment for his friend. But fuck, all his eyes wanted to look at was her. And, once Rebecca handed over the microphone, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Hello Richmond!” she began, eliciting cheers from the crowd- a sold-out crowd, much to Keeley and Rebecca’s relief and excitement. “Thank you for making history with us today. We are so proud to be your W.F.C. Richmond Whippets.” She smiled, soaking up the roars that naturally followed the team’s name. “We just want to say thank you to our dear Rebecca Welton and Keeley Jones, our incredible foundresses.” She wrapped her arm around Rebecca. “They are truly the heart of this team. We’d also like to give a giant thank you to your Greyhounds.” Thunderous applause. “Coach Kent and the team have been great housemates and have helped us to really feel at home here at the Dog Track. Thank you, boys!”

Keeley nudged Roy, whose face was on fire at the sound of his name. “She’s a fucking natural, isn’t she?” Keeley gushed. “And doesn’t she look stunning?”

Roy grunted. He was having a hard time hearing anything but her speech. “And we want to take a moment to say thank you to all the parents that brought their daughters here today. They are why we’re out here.” She turned to her team, who were watching her with admiration on their faces. “Whippets, are you ready to show them what it means to play like a girl?”

The stadium was deafening as she handed over the microphone to someone before smiling for photos beside her team. He sat quietly through the rest of the opening ceremonies before the match began. He hadn’t realized it before, but the owner’s box had a perfect view of the dugout; he spent half the game with his eyes glued there, watching her shout to her team, pacing back and forth, effortlessly cool in her blazer and sneakers. He bit back a groan when her blazer came off, revealing perfectly tanned shoulders, kissed from all the time the former athlete had spent in the sun. He wondered what those arms would feel like wrapped around- fuck.

Roy Kent really needed to get ahold of himself.

“You alright, Roy?” Keeley looked at him with genuine concern. “Your face is all… blotchy and red. Are you having a fucking heart attack or something?”

Rebecca, who’d taken her seat just before the match began, leaned around Keeley, her eyes still half-glued to the pitch. “Roy’s having a heart attack?”

Roy rolled his eyes and slouched in his surprisingly comfortable seat. “’m not having a fucking heart attack,” he grumbled.

From in front of him, Coach Beard grunted. “Oh, your heart’s doing something, alright.”

“Fuck off,” Roy growled, forcing his eyes to return to the pitch, hating the way he couldn’t help looking at the dugout every few seconds.

“What’s this?” Keeley leaned forward with more interest than Roy knew what to do with. She studied him carefully, taking in the sight of his red cheeks and shifty eyes. “Oh! You’ve got a crush, haven’t you?”

“Fuck off,” Roy repeated, sagging down further.

Instead of doing as she was told, Keeley began surveying the pitch carefully. “Hmm. Wonder who it could be… Amanda Camacho’s quite pretty… Samara Scott’s fit…” She stopped turning her eyes carefully to Roy, who was staring straight ahead, refusing to let his eyes land anywhere incriminating. “Unless…”

“Unless?” Rebecca repeated; the woman should have been holding popcorn in her hands, she was so invested.

“It’s not a player, is it, Roy?” Keeley leered at Roy. “Maybe it’s a coach?” She nudged him. “And I don’t think Lucas is quite your type.”

Roy knew his bright red ears were a dead giveaway, but if he couldn’t admit it to himself, he sure as hell wasn’t admitting anything to Keeley Jones, ogling at him with those fucking eyes of hers. “Keeley, I’m getting real fucking annoyed,” he warned her. “I was basically ordered to come to this game, I’ve got my own season opener tonight, so I don’t need you acting like we’re fucking thirteen making up imaginary crushes and shit, alright?”

Keeley’s squeaky little hmmph told him that while she wouldn’t keep pushing him right now, this conversation was far from over.

~

The shriek of the whistle had me throwing my arms around Lucas and squeezing him tight. A 3-1 win was a pretty great way to announce W.F.C. Richmond’s arrival to the league. A blur of hugs and handshakes eventually carried me inside, where I passed a few players starting to do short interviews, their faces glowing with sweat and pride.

“Any chance The Richmond Star could get an exclusive with the winning manager?” George Willows smiled at me, one of those charming move-star smiles, the kind that a girl couldn’t help but feel grateful to receive.

“You could always show up for the press conference,” I teased, gesturing down the hall. “I promise to call on you for a question. Bet I could even get you a front-row seat.”

His smile turned awkward. “Oh, I’m not allowed in there,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head in an attractively self-effacing way. “Your Greyhound counterpart got me completely banned from the Richmond press room.” He leaned in close, as if sharing a deep, dark secret. “He once threw a chair at me during a press conference. Since then, I’m not allowed to cover the Greyhounds or go in the press room.”

My mouth fell open at this piece of information. “That’s insane,” I hissed. “He throws a chair, and you get banned?”

George shrugged, clearly used to it. “Can’t exactly ban a manager from his own press room, eh?”

“Well, if you stick around,” I started slowly, stretching out my flirting muscles that were dreadfully underused, “I can fill you in on whatever you miss. Give you that exclusive.”

“Oi.”

Of course. Of course the moment I flirted with a guy, Roy Kent was there to interrupt, with his stupid beard and deep frown and eyes that lingered a moment too long on my face. “What?” I groaned, knowing I sounded like a petulant teenager caught kissing a boy on her front porch.

His frown deepened; if he was any other man, I’d marvel at how it did nothing to take away from his handsomeness. “Keeley’s asking for you. Says they’re ready for you in the press room.” His eyes narrowed in George’s direction. “Same rules, apply, Willows. Stay the fuck out.”

I offered George an apologetic smile. “Think we could stake a raincheck on that exclusive?”

“I’ll text you,” he promised with a wink.

There was a definite blush on my face as I turned to follow Roy to the press room. “Surprised you stuck around,” I mused as we fell into step together. “Thought you’d be long gone by now, get some rest before your game.”

“Wanted to offer my congratulations,” he mumbled. “To Rebecca,” he quickly added. “And the team. And Lucas.” His eyes flashed to my face for a brief moment. “And you.”

“Well, thanks,” I huffed as we arrived at the press room. “Meant a lot having you fellas here.” I kicked the ground, making a mental note to clean my shoes when I got home. “Hope you all win your game tonight,” I added as we stopped in front of the press room.

“Will you be there?”

Those were the last words I expected to come out of Roy Kent’s mouth. It reminded me of when my high school crush invited me to his baseball game, right down to the fidgeting and the question marks in Roy’s eyes.

Ignoring the way it made me feel, I nodded. “Uh, yeah, yeah I’ll come.” Rebecca had offered me a ticket, but said she understood if I wanted to be out celebrating. But if the Greyhounds came to my game, I should definitely go to theirs. Right? “Better get in there.” I jerked my head towards the closed press room door.

Roy shrugged, his eyes almost playful. “They’ll wait for you.”

I let out a small chuckle, unable to believe that we were having a civil conversation. “I’ll see you later, Kent.”

“See you, Coach.”

~

Sundays were for Phoebe. Roy would pick her up and take her to breakfast, letting her gorge herself on chocolate chip pancakes, then let her pick something to do together. Sometimes it was going to some Disney movie at the theatre, sometimes a museum, sometimes a trip to the toy shop, once in a while a beach excursion. Today, she simply wanted to go to the park for a picnic.

Of course, Roy obliged his niece. He packed up some sandwiches and snacks, rolled out a blanket, and brought a football and some cones. He might spoil the girl, but he was still her coach. Once they’d devoured their lunch and sat around for a bit, he pulled her to her feet and began kicking around the ball with her.

Being eight years old, her aim wasn’t always perfect. So, Roy really shouldn’t have been too surprised when she gave a wonky kick that sent the ball flying out of their play area.

“You kicked it, you get it!” Roy called, nodding in the direction the ball flew in.

Phoebe obediently jogged off, always eager to do what her uncle asked. Roy perked up when he heard her little voice, high-pitched with excitement.

“Oh! Do you play for the Whippets? My uncle Roy coaches the Greyhounds!”

He turned around and saw, to his great astonishment, Phoebe gazing up at a familiar pretty face.

The eyes Roy kept telling himself not to think about snapped up in his direction before looking back at Phoebe. “Um, yeah, I know your uncle Roy. I actually coach the Whippets.” She rolled the ball between her hands.

Roy walked over, watching Phoebe’s face light up.  She gasped with joy. “You’re Coach Buck! My mum told me about you. You have an Olympic Gold Medal!”

That fucking medal.

She gave an awkward little laugh and tossed the ball back to Phoebe. “That would be me. Do you play…” She offered Roy a small smirk before looking back at Phoebe. “… football?”

“I do! My uncle Roy coaches my team at school. He’s very good.”

“I’m sure he is.”

Feeling his face warm at the praise, Roy tapped Phoebe on the shoulder. “Oi, Pheebs, why don’t you go set up the cones? Do some dribbling?”

Phoebe stuck her little hand out, her politeness reminding Roy of how mature she was becoming. “I’m Phoebe, by the way. It was nice to meet you, Coach Buck.”

“Very nice to meet you too, Phoebe.” She shook the girl’s hand firmly. “We’ll have to get you and your mum out to a Whippets’ game sometime, alright?” The wink she gave Phoebe had Roy holding his breath.

“Yes!”

Roy cleared his throat. “Pheebs, the cones?”

Phoebe scurried off to do as she was told. Both adults watched her for a moment before turning back to each other, exchanging awkward half-smiles.

“You coach her school team?”

Roy shrugged. “They’re good girls. Decent players, too. And they listen a hell of a lot better than the pricks at Richmond.”

She nodded, studying Roy carefully. “So, you don’t hate women’s soccer. It’s just me.”

“I don’t hate you.” She shot him a skeptical look that he couldn’t help chuckling at. “Alright fine, I fucking hate you.”

Her laugh would echo through his head for the rest of the afternoon. “Don’t worry, I hate you too.”

They both stood there, grinning and hating each other, both kind of wishing literally anyone from Nelson Road was there to witness their civility. Hell, someone might even mistake it for friendliness. Some idiots might go so far as to get it mixed up with flirting.

“So that’s your niece.”

“That’s my niece,” Roy confirmed, following her gaze to Phoebe, who had finished setting up the cones the way he’d taught her and was starting to dribble between then.

“The one that draws the…”

Roy chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the one that draws the…” He mirrored the way she trailed off.

Her smile grew soft as she watched Phoebe. “She’s cute.”

“She’s a fucking idiot,” Roy scoffed. “But she’s my fucking idiot, I guess.”

A small hmmph escaped her lips as she tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know, for the exhibition game, Keeley and I were talking about having kids escort the players out to the field. Thought it’d be nice to have it evenly split, boys and girls.”

“Because we don’t have enough girls walking out with the Greyhounds?” His defensiveness was almost a reflex at this point. “Because honestly, we do our best, we just get a lot more boys interested, alright?”

For once, she didn’t take the bait for an argument. “Actually, I was wondering if Picasso there would be interested in being one of our kids.”

Roy blinked, feeling like an idiot for his reaction. “Oh. Yeah, I think she’d like that. Just need to ask my sister.”

“She can even hang out in the dugout during the game.” Her voice was light, friendly. “Let her see a woman coaching a team. It’s important for girls to see that kind of thing, you know? Why d’you think I keep Brandi in my office? Even if your niece isn’t interested in soccer as a career, any little girl would benefit from seeing women doing ‘men’s work’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice, thanks.” Roy paused, kicking a rock with the toe of his sneaker. “My sister’s a doctor, by the way.”

“Oh.” She looked directly at Roy now, thoughtfulness coloring her expression. “She’s why you picked your charity. The med student one.”

Roy nodded. “Exactly.” He hesitated but decided to continue. “She’s a single mum. Things aren’t always easy. She’s stubborn as hell and refuses my help outside of babysitting. She’s, er, had to rely on BMA for help once or twice.” He stared at her for a moment. “I get the strong, independent woman thing. I respect it.”

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sight of her soft smile. “You must be proud of her.”

“I am,” Roy confirmed. “And of Pheobe too. She’s a strong kid.”

There was a comfortable silence as they watched Phoebe continue her drill, her blonde hair flying in her face, not deterring her tiny focus. Roy found that he really liked the way Coach Buck looked at his niece; there was a fondness there that made his chest feel warmer than it had in a long time.

“She’s why I love my job,” she finally murmured. “Girls like her. I was so lucky to grow up with heroes that made me believe that seeing my name on the back of a jersey and being an Olympian was something I could realistically aspire to. And all I wanted was to be the same for other little girls. My dream was that someday, some little girl would have my poster on her wall.”

Roy knew that feeling. “Be her Brandi Chastain,” he murmured before he had the chance to even think.

She looked surprised, almost impressed, her mouth forming a perfect O when she realized he’d remembered that name. The grin that grew on her lips was slow and gorgeous. “Be her Brandi Chastain,” she repeated softly.

Roy thought they’d get to share another moment of just looking at each other, wondering how else to fill the silence, when her eyes suddenly widened. She whipped out her phone and took a look at it.

“Shit,” she hissed. “I’m late.”

“Late?”

Her eyes suddenly became shifty as she avoided Roy’s gaze. “Got an interview about yesterday’s match,” she murmured.

George fucking Willows. “Oh. Right.” Roy cleared his throat, retreating back into himself. “Better get going, then.”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” She took a step backwards, away from Roy, away from their conversation and whatever moment they were having.

Roy knew he was offering up a grimace rather than a grin. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

~

The next few weeks were… peaceful. Probably the most peaceful I’d had since starting at Richmond. I wouldn’t say Roy Kent was friendly to me, but we weren’t screaming at each other, and he wasn’t pointedly ignoring me the way he had after the retreat either. He was even running silently on the treadmill next to me again. We were finally just coexisting. And I kind of liked it.

“How’s this?”

A paper was shoved in front of me on my desk, interrupting the email I was writing. I looked up and saw Roy looking at me expectantly. When I looked down, I realized it was a pair of rosters, with our teams divided up and combined.

“Oh.” I blinked. “You picked the teams already?”

“Had Isaac and Kira do it,” he corrected me. “Wanted to see what the captains thought before we did it ourselves.” He shrugged. “Did a fucking good job in my opinion. I’m okay with their picks if you are.”

I took a moment to read through the rosters; he was right. “Well, it saves us the work,” I chuckled, handing the paper back to Roy. “They’re split evenly enough to make things fair. My team’s still going to kick your ass though,” I teased.

He raised one of those thick eyebrows at me. “Care to make a wager?” he challenged.

“I mean, there’s already the whole thing with our charities,” I reminded him, twirling the pen in my hands between my fingers. “But what’d you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment. “Winner gets to pick someone for the loser to dance with at the gala.”

Rebecca’s charity gala. It was just a few weeks away, and already it was all everyone could talk about. Both teams were buzzing with gossip about outfits and dates; a couple of Greyhounds had even asked a couple of Whippets to attend with them, much to everyone’s amusement and nerves. My favorite rumor I’d heard was that one of my goalkeepers was bringing Timothee Chalamet as her date.

“Fine.” I stuck out my hand to Roy. “It’s a bet.”

His eyes froze on my hand for a moment before he took it, giving it a firm shake. “Right,” he muttered, letting go quickly. “Got to head to the pitch. Just wanted to run the teams by you.” He gave an awkward little salute. “See you around.”

He was gone before I could even say “see you”.

The morning of the exhibition game, I found myself leaning back in my chair and staring up at Brandi Chastain, thinking about how crazy it was that I, an American who had won the World Cup and had an Olympic Gold Medal, was in England, the head coach of a professional women’s team. And it was because of Brandi Chastain, and Mia Hamm, and Kristine Lilly, and so many other names that were etched into my very soul. I wondered if somewhere out there was a little girl who felt the same about me.

“Hi, Coach Buck!”

I turned around and felt my mouth immediately turn into a grin. “Well, hello, Phoebe.” The woman behind her was looking at me with interest as I shot out of my chair and strolled over. “You must be her mom.” I stuck my hand out. “I’m-”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” she said with a laugh, shaking my hand warmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh.” My eyes flickered to Roy, who had appeared behind the duo.

His sister cleared her throat. “You know, from the news. Seen you on the telly, read a few articles, saw a couple of TikToks.”

I forced a smile, scolding myself for thinking Roy Kent talked about me at home. “Oh, wow, I’m on TikTok? Biggest accomplishment of my life right there.” I turned to Phoebe, who was wearing a Whippets jersey. “I hear you’re joining me on the pitch today.”

Phoebe nodded enthusiastically. “Uncle Roy said I get to hang out with you the whole game.”

“That’s right,” I confirmed. “Here, you can hang onto this for me.” I grabbed my clipboard from my desk and handed it to her. “It’s got my lineup and notes. Very important. Think you can manage?”

“Yes!”

I reached out and ruffled her hair. “Excellent. Just don’t let your uncle Roy see it, alright?” I shot her a wink before I turned back to the adults. “Your brother got you good seats, I hope?” I teased Roy’s sister.

“Owner’s box, believe it or not.” She raised her eyebrows. “In fact, I’m heading up there now to take advantage of the free booze and snacks.” She turned to Roy. “Can I leave Phee with you?” When her brother grunted and shrugged, she knelt down and began to say goodbye to Phoebe, offering last-minute reminders about behavior and listening to adults.

As mother and daughter spoke, I took a step closer to Roy. “Ready to lose?”

He snorted, an almost friendly sound. “Nope. Yourself?”

“Nope.”

By the time we were on the pitch, Phoebe was my new little best friend. She proudly stood by my side as we lined up, with Rebecca reminding the crowd that each team was playing for charity- my team for the Women’s Sports Foundation, Roy’s for BMA Charities. He and I exchanged curt nods as we turned to our dugouts, all business as the match got underway.

Phoebe clutched my clipboard to her chest and stuck to my side the entire match. I had expected her to want to sit and relax at some point, but instead she was my second shadow, mimicking the way I paced, watching me even more than the game. It was the most flattered I’d ever felt in my life.

I snuck a few glances over to the other dugout, amused at the opportunity to watch Roy Kent coach up close and in person. He was loud- unsurprisingly- and passionate. What was a bit more surprising was the compassion he carried, the way he shouted support to his players (and mine) throughout the game.

And his Greyhounds parka looked pretty good on him.

Shaking my head as I caught myself staring for the umpteenth time, I turned my attention back to the game, feeling thankful to have Jamie Tartt on my team. He’d scored two goals already, and we were all tied up. No one had brought up the idea of what to do in the case of a draw, but I didn’t want to think about that; I wanted the win. And, with less than two minutes left in stoppage time, Kira passed the ball to Jamie, who breezed by one of the Greyhound defenders to come face to face with one of my goalkeepers.

“Let’s go Jamie!” I heard Lucas shout beside me.

When the ball hit the back of the net, I threw my arms in the air.  We were close, so close to the end of the game. After the kickoff, there were only a few touches before the referee blew her whistle.

“Yes!” I yelled, bumping fists and hips with Lucas. I turned and high-fived Phoebe. “Great job, Coach Pheebs.”

She beamed at me. “Thank you! That was so much fun!”

Both teams lined up on the field, exchanging hugs and high-fives as we all waited for Rebecca to come onto the pitch to announce the donation. She was absolutely glowing as she stood on the field, flanked by Roy and myself.

“What a game!” she began. “Thank you to our players for giving it their all, and of course our wonderful managers for leading these impressive teams.”

Roy stepped out in front of Rebecca and offered his hand. Shooting him a grin, I reached out and shook it firmly, keenly aware of the shuttering of cameras going off the moment our hands touched.

Rebecca went on. “Thank you all for joining us today. The proceeds from our tickets, as well as the generous donations from our sponsors and so many of you, will be going to two wonderful charities. The first is the Welton Foundation, which benefits underprivileged children in our community. The second-”

Without thinking about what I was about to do, I tapped Rebecca’s shoulder. She shot me a confused look but leaned in close. “I’d like to share it.”

“What?”

My eyes shot to Roy, who was staring at me with perplexed eyes. “The money. Split it between the Sports Foundation and BMA.”

Rebecca’s face turned soft. “Lovely,” she murmured, giving me a proud nod of approval. She returned to the microphone. “We have a slight change of plan. Our winning team has chosen to split their donation. So, all the proceeds from today’s match will go to the Welton Foundation, the Women’s Sports Foundation, and BMA charities.”

Roy Kent broke out into a full, true smile as he looked at me. “Thank you,” he mouthed.

All I could do was shrug in response, ignoring the heat on my cheeks when I saw the way his eyes lingered on me long after the cheering had died down. When I did finally turn away, Lucas was giving me his smarmiest grin.

“Oh, shut up,” I hissed as we made our way back towards the locker rooms, ignoring the now-familiar feeling that someone was staring at me.

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @reading-blogs @callmecasey81 @ladygrey03 @puckyou-forpuckssake @royalestrellas @shineforever19 @rae4725 @burnafter-reading @her-fandom-sanctum @infinetlyforgotten @giggling-sewer-ginger @whataloadofmalarkey @agentstarkid @kingleahhh @tortilla-maria1 @geekgirl1996 @amatswimming @meg-ro @spicyraccoonlordking @spaghetti-dad187 @needlesthreadandbuttons @elissaaa @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @reverieisaway @djskakakaksjsj-blog @thatonedogwithablog @allthetroubleiveseen @sunderland-6 @netflix-addict @paranormal-is-my-life @jill2629-blog @itsbuzzfeedbitch @pretzelactivist @amieinghigh @kashee-h @beingalive1 @mythicalbinicorn @needyomega @kno-way-home @janalustare @sssatorus @its-a-rich-mans-world @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @hesitant-alien33 @katie-sheep-111 @bonesbonesetc @seacactusplant

[gotafewtricks]

Holy shit Hc's for a Kitsune!reader w kiriko? I think it'd be so funny and cute with how her spirit animal and reader might interact with each other 💀💀

Also hope you're having a good day!

(Might send a crap load of requests cause my brain can't stop coming up with things 😭)

★ O' fox spirit...

Hey !! I love getting requests, and if you're the same anon that requested Genji with a dog!reader, then I'll call you silly animal anon lmao :3 unless if you want to assign yourself w/ a name, that is!

With first impressions, Kiriko would've been pretty pumped about it all!

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that you'd see a yōkai out and about. If you are taking on a human form, then she'd know not to cross with you—not just because of your heritage, but because she knew wise you were! As she has practiced under many ceremonies relating towards the kitsune, she understood the nuances of those mythical creatures; how elegant, yet sly they were with their cunning attitudes.

Kiriko would be very understanding of many things, and would not go around and tell everyone that you were a kitsune—considering her most loyal companion is one, and there'd be no use in letting really anyone know about that without your permission—if you were secretive about it.

She'd love to know how you were doing, and would equally love the chance to strike up some small talk.

The girl would laugh at the silly interactions between you and her companion, always wondering what'll happen next.

Her fox friend would be very interested, I'm sure! I like to imagine that it doesn't appear very often, only in times of need (such as combat) then it'll be summoned. Or, around the comfort of Kiriko and her family. Not everyday you'll see a ghost, eh?

That's how she'd know that you were a kitsune; if you did not have anything outright screaming at her that you were one. If you didn't have the tail(s), ears, or a mask (though, she understood that people may wear them for just apparel), judging by the energy you give off—Kiriko would sense something. Also, it's terribly obvious if her kitsune is also reacting to it, as well.

If you were comfortable with turning into your animal form, she'd then lovingly sigh, as she's crouch down to level the height of the two foxes before her. She'd jokingly chide the two of you to behave; which you two do... sometimes. Causing mischief has never been more fun!

Kiriko would always respect you, and understand if you ever need your time and space. Spirits get busy, and she gets busy—so, it's only fair for her to try her best to ensure that you're okay.

She knows that you can take care of yourself; without needing anyone's help. Judging by your abilities and powers, you were older than the oldest businesses here in Japan that she could think of. If you needed help with anything whatsoever, specifically in reference to adjusting towards human life, she'd do her best!

If you were reluctant with interacting with others, she understands. Humanity is pretty terrifying at times; especially with the Hashimoto now clogging up the streets of Kanezaka. Kiriko would say that, even if those criminal organizations keep up piling on and on, if you were to try and persevere, and focus on the good you're doing now—it's worth it in the end. Even if you just make a few people smile, it's still worth it; even for those few people.

Kiriko would be all up for causing some fun-loving trouble, however, she will back out if things get too dicey. If you wanted to help her with the current yakuza problem, then sure! She'd hate to rope you into something that you may not want to get involved in, so she would want your ultimate consent.

Hanging out with her would be so fun! You're surprised by how she is able to think of so, so many things.

Having trouble with cleaning? She understands! Either that's helping you pick out the best shampoos for your fur, or brushing out and straightening it all—she's got you. Though, be careful about shedding everywhere...

Want to go win some costume contests for Halloween? You guys could go as, well, kitsunes together! Though, Kiriko may say that she'd rather go as something else; knowing she could excell in such a costume, the fox spirit, so she'll dress up as other things—witch, fortune teller, or cosplays from her favourite animes.

All in all, she would adore to have you—even if her hands were already full with her current fox, she's lucky to've been able to meet you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Plus One

Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing, Only One I See, One Thing Leads To Another, One Message Waiting, One Day Closer to You, I’m the Only One

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

You smile at your phone and Inez nudges you with her elbow. You barely hide the screen as she peeks over. You turn it face down and push her off the armrest between you. 

“So you and Jake? That’s a thing?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” You lie poorly.

“Don’t. He asked me for your number, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, “I didn’t know he was your type.”

“We’re friends,” you shrug, “he’s funny.”

You press your hand to your neck and look around the lecture hall, students filing in as Professor Rogers stands at the front, transfixed on his screen as the projector remains blank. It’s not like you hid Jensen, you mentioned that you ran into him and it’s not that deep. You need more friends than Inez. And he really is hilarious. Well, he knows where to find the good memes.

“Sure, funny looking,” she scoffs, “tell me, what does Professor Pretty Boy think about your new fling?”

“In,” you face her, “me and Jake are just texting and me and Professor Rogers are working together. There’s nothing going on between any of us. Besides, don’t you have your own web of lovers to get tangled in?”

“Oh, yeah, Brianna found out about Jacob, so…” she flutters her fingers carelessly, “I didn’t lie to either of them. I said we were having fun and they weren’t into having fun all together, I guess. I don’t know.”

“You don’t seem too broken up over it,” you remark.

“Eh, it’s college, you’re not here for life,” she dismisses, “speaking of, you should hop on Jakey Boy. He’s a nice guy, a good way to dip your toe in the water.”

“Do you ever think of anything else?” You challenge.

“Mmm, my grades would say no,” she chuckles and leans into you, “I’m just saying, if you got that puppy dog sniffing around, it’ll get the wolf off your doorstep.”

She sends a look towards the front of the class as the projector finally lights up with the week’s slides. Professor Rogers looks up and clears his throat, calling attention from the muttering rows of students. Inez turns her head, shielding her mouth behind her hand, “you don’t wanna get tied up with a professor. I’ve heard stories…” she pauses and glances behind her, “Laufeyson.”

“What?” You turn to her with a sharp whisper, “no–”

“Mm, apparently he makes the rounds on first years,” she utters flippantly, “Mona, sits in the first row in history… that was in September. I think he’s moved on to Larissa.”

“Shhh,” you hush her, “you shouldn’t listen to gossip.”

“From the mouth of babes,” she sighs, “they told me themselves.”

You frown and peer down at the podium. Professor Rogers isn’t like that. You can’t imagine him doing anything like that. He’s so awkward, you only imagine him combusting at the very thought. Laufeyson might be a dog but he’s his own breed.

💭

“I know it’s a bit cramped in here,” Steve leads you into his office, “but I have a kettle if you want some tea.”

“It’s fine, Professor,” you assure him as you leave the door open behind you, “so I sent you my lesson plan…”

“Ah, yes,” he rounds his desk and puts down his bag, “I did go over it. Just let me get set up.”

You take the chair across from him, letting your coat rumple behind you as you shed it. You take out your laptop and balance it in your lap as you feel your phone buzz. You ignore it as you power up and search through your cloud for the file. You see his icon already present in the doc.

“Got it,” he announces, “right, so, starting with horror…” His eyes scan his computer, “you’re a fan of Shelley?”

“I… I liked Frankenstein, yeah,” you answer as you watch his cursor on your screen.

“I can tell, which is good, being passionate about what you're talking about,” he says, “I might cut back a little on her personal history and spend more time on Stoker. But it’s good you touch on Gaskell…”

You start a comment on the doc, taking note of what he’s saying, “oh thanks, I’ll definitely go over that.”

“Your slides are good though, informative but not crowded,” he taps his fingers on his lower lip.

You listen to his feedback, relieved that he’s not so wound up as usual. He seems calmer somehow. You don’t know why but there’s not the usual tension. Maybe because he’s talking about what he knows.

He sits up as he pauses. He feels around his blazer and slides out his phone, “excuse me, this damn thing keeps going off. I’m just gonna turn it to–” He blinks and goes quiet, “sorry, give me a minute.”

He stands and exits without waiting for a response. You don’t think much of it. Some emergency or another. 

You slip out your phone from your coat pocket and sit back. Inez would eat her words if she was there. Professor Rogers is distracted, apathetic even. Maybe he’s just used to your presence.

You flip open the chat with Jake. ‘So, they’re having a showing of Young Frankenstein at the Film Club tomorrow night. You into it?’

Your phone bubbles with suggested responses; ‘sure’, ‘I don’t know’, ‘no, sorry, I’m busy’. You hover over them and select the textbox instead. Is he asking you out? You’re too shy to ask him directly.

‘Oh, I love Frankenstein!’ You key in, trying to repress a grin, a giddy flicker in your chest.

‘Is that a yes?’

‘It’s a hell yeah!’ You almost giggle at your own response and flinch as you hear the door click behind you.

You straighten up and rest your phone on your knee as you glance back at Steve. He forces a smile as he strides around you and places his phone face down on the desk.

“Sorry, my mother,” he shakes his head, “well, you know how parents can be.”

You nod and don’t comment. You never really thought of him having parents. Maybe that’s unfair, he’s not that old. You could laugh but you keep your face placid. Your phone vibes again and you look down at the gif flashing in the chat. Jensen is such a dweeb.

“So, ready to get back to it?” Steve asks and you look up at him. His eyes are on your phone.

Embarrassed, you tuck your cell away, “yes, sorry, it’s just Inez being silly.”

[aftermathfanfic]

He slowly approached her, sitting down beside her. They sat in silence, neither of them wanting to talk about the last adventure. Truthfully, Dewey didn’t really know how to talk about it. This wasn’t just inter-family drama and misunderstanding, it was… failure. Dewey didn’t know how else to describe it. It felt like they had failed.

If they hadn’t, that girl would still be alive.

~~~

Chanda waited in the agriculture plot of Quackmore Public, leaning against the shed wall with her hands in her pockets. Classes had just started, if she remembered the school’s timetable correctly, and there was nobody around. Not yet.

Her eyes scanned the bushels and bushes of the plot, an amateur farm about four yards across either side. Still, Chanda felt a pang of envy at it – her school certainly didn’t have anything like this.

Finally, she spotted her target, entering in through the back gate of the plot. He was a large pig boy, only a couple of years older than her, dressed in a green polo and brown shorts. His gaze was down at his phone as he walked through the plot, only looking up to notice her when he was a few feet away.

Once he did, he froze.

“Oh, God.” He muttered, taking a step back from her.

“Hey, Rhind.” Chanda greeted him. She cocked her head at him. “How’s the hand?”

The pig moved his right hand behind him, almost subconsciously. “…Fine.” Rhind replied warily. He watched her suspiciously. “…What do you want?”

Chanda was silent for a moment. She watched the older boy stew in his nervousness for a bit longer, then remarked, “I heard you were dealing again.”

“…I share a blunt or two with friends, sure. What of it?”

“Did Drake give that to you?”

“Oh, come… what, did he send you?” Rhind groaned, taking another step back. “I don’t work with you guys anymore, give me a break!”

Chanda almost cursed. Rhind wasn’t working for Doofus. He wouldn’t know anything about the statuette, or anything about his operations.

But he might know something else, she quickly realised. Deciding to play into his anxiety, Chanda stepped off the wall and approached him, asking in a low voice, “Why would he have sent me, Rhind?”

“You tell me! You’ve met the guy, anything can set him off!”

Chanda took another step forward. “Maybe he’s concerned about where you’re getting your goods from.”

“What? Wh-what do you mean?” Rhind spluttered as he stumbled backwards.

“His stash, idiot. He seems to think that’s where you’re getting your stuff.”

“Aw, come- You think I’m dumb enough to steal from that creep? He’s the one constantly spying on people, he should know it wasn’t me!”

“What wasn’t you?”

“Whatever it is you’re coming to me for!”

Chanda got right up in his face, cornering him against a row of overgrown tomato bushes. “…A couple pounds of our stuff went missing.” She lied, making herself sound as threatening as possible. “You sure you don’t know anything about that?”

“I don’t even know where he keeps his stash!” Rhind argued. “How would I steal from it?”

“You could’ve found out. You might have asked one of the other guys, cut him into it.”

“None of the other guys know where it is either! We only ever got it directly from him, he knows that!”

Chanda narrowed her eyes at him, letting him stand there, sweating nervously. After a moment, she backed down, realising he was telling the truth. Rhind breathed a sigh of relief as she let him relax a little.

“You don’t know anyone else who could have stolen it?” She questioned him, hoping to get a name out of him at least.

Unfortunately, Rhind shook his head. “No-one would be crazy enough.” He told her. “Not after what happened to Ryan.”

“Ryan?”

“…Ryan Goodfeather? The guy who got beat up by a bunch of Beagle Boys?”

Chanda vaguely remembered hearing something about that. She hadn’t paid much attention at the time, though. “What about him?” She asked.

Now Rhind was looking suspicious. “The kids who jumped him worked for Doofus, didn’t they?”

Chanda stared at him. “…Where’d you hear that?” She demanded.

“Ryan said so. He tried to steal something from Doofus, so he sic’d those guys on him. What, you didn’t hear about that?”

Chanda didn’t answer, staring into the middle distance.

“Right… you weren’t at the hospital. Too busy with your mom, or whatever.” He snorted, sounding amused. “Doofus never told you that he was in with the biggest gang in Duckburg?”

“…He probably didn’t want to scare me off.” Chanda muttered.

“Yeah, no kidding. I mean, a bunch of us quit when he heard that. No amount of money is worth working for those guys.” He folded his arms, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not that surprising if you think about it. The guy’s in the same crowd as Glomgold, Beaks… all those psychos.”

“No. It isn’t.”

Rhind looked down at her. “You want my advice? You should look at keeping your distance from that stuff too.” He suggested. “I know your mom’s important and all, but Doofus is in the middle of the Duckburg crazies. It’s dangerous shit.”

Chanda glared back up at him. “I didn’t ask for your advice.” She shot back. “And don’t go telling anyone about that Beagle Boy stuff. Like you said, dangerous shit.”

“…Sure. Whatever.” Rhind shrugged again. “So… can I go now?”

Chanda sighed reluctantly, then jerked her head towards the school proper. Rhind quickly took the hint, jogging away from her without looking back.

Chanda sighed, walking back to the shed and leaning against it. That hadn’t been a complete waste. Rhind might not have known where Doofus’s stash was, but it sounded like this Goodfeather guy did, or at least knew how to steal from him. She just needed to find him, pay him a visit, and find out what he knew. Still, this stuff about the Beagle Boys…

She shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets, swallowing hard. Fighting high school bullies was one thing. Fighting the Beagle Boys was entirely another.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She took it out and held it up, looking at who was calling her.

Green Dickhead, it read.

Chanda frowned, then answered it. “Hey.” She murmured into the phone.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“What?”

“Did you tell anyone?” Louie repeated aggressively.

“Oh, well, hello to you too.” Chanda muttered.

“Just give me a straight answer!” Louie hissed.

“No, I haven’t told anyone!” Chanda snapped. “How fucking stupid do you think I am?”

“Really? Because Doofus knows!”

“…What?”

“He knows! He called me last night to collect on my side of our ‘bargain’, and he knew that we were trying to get back at him! He’s known-!”

Chanda shut her eyes tight, letting her hand fall loosely to her side. He already knew. They’d failed before they even started. Frustratedly, she punched the shed wall behind her, gritting her teeth and holding back a string of curses. Reluctantly, she brought the phone back up to her ear.

“…or if he’s just… fuckin’ psychic, but he knew!” Louie rambled as she returned to the call. “And I know that I haven’t told anyone, so… like, you haven’t accidentally let it sleep to anyone who could’ve told him? Anyone at all?”

“No. Nobody.” Chanda replied. “He must’ve had someone spying on us back at the bus stop.”

“Not possible. We were alone back there. He had to have heard from someone, or-” He cut off briefly, then continued “-or he’s gone to the Karmic Court, and they’ve told him-!”

“Calm down.” Chanda told him forcefully. “You’re panicking.”

“If you had been through the crap that this asshole has put me through, then you’d be panicking too!” Louie snarled.

“Just focus!” Chanda commanded him. “Look… what did he say to you? Is your deal with him off?”

Louie scoffed. “Deal. Sure. Let’s call it that.” He sighed. “No… I managed to talk him into giving me an extra week. But whatever we do to get out of this, it has to be before then! Because if we give him time to prepare, then we’re screwed!”

“Okay.” Chanda said evenly. “So… what does this change for our plan?”

That seemed to give Louie pause. “…Nothing, I guess.” He admitted.

“Then stop panicking. All this means is that we need to be more careful.”

“Right… yeah.”

Chanda frowned. He sounded pained for some reason. “You alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just pulled something during while I was out adventuring. You know how it is.” Louie replied. “Or… I guess you wouldn’t. Whatever. Did you manage to catch any info on your end?”

“…Kind of. The guy I told you about, he doesn’t know anything. But he let slip someone who might.”

“Another one of his dealers?”

“Yeah. He tried to steal something from Doofus and got himself beat up for it. Chances are good that he was stealing from Doofus’s stash.”

“Perfect. Get a location from him, and whatever we find, we use it as leverage.”

“Assuming that he hasn’t moved it somewhere else.”

“That sounds like negative thinking to me.” Louie remarked. Chanda could hear the smirk in his voice. “You gotta be positive when it comes to planning, trust me.”

“…He… also told me something else.” Chanda added after a moment’s hesitation.

“What?”

“He said that Doofus gets his drugs from the Beagle Boys.”

“…What?”

“Apparently they’re the ones who jumped the second guy.”

“Oh my God, that’s great!” Louie said excitedly.

“…How?” Chanda asked worriedly.

“Gang connections? That’s excellent blackmail material! If we find proof of that, give it over to the cops, we could shut his operation for good! He’d be powerless!”

“He could easily tell the cops that he was being coerced by them!” Chanda argued.

“Won’t matter. Either way, he loses the drugs. He can’t exactly frame me for dealing if he’s got nothing to frame me with, can he?”

“I- okay, can- can you picture something for me?” Chanda said anxiously. “Let’s say we do that. And let’s say it shuts him down. He’s going to be pissed at us, right? He’s going to be pissed at me!”

“So?”

“He knows my mother’s name, dickhead!” Chanda snarled. “He knows where I live! He’ll tell the Beagle Boys, they’ll blame me, and they’ll come after my mother!”

“If he gets caught, the Beagle Boys aren’t going to give a crap what he says.” Louie rebutted. “But, fine. After we bring Doofus down, I can make sure your family’s safe. I know some people.” When Chanda didn’t respond, he added, “He’ll try to get back at you no matter how we go about this, Chanda.”

Chanda sighed, replying reluctantly, “Fine… what’s your next move, then? That Bosman guy, right?”

“Not anymore.” Louie replied. “He was bit a gamble anyway, and we don’t have time to be taking chances. But his brother – well, adopted brother – he technically works for my uncle. If anyone knows anything about Doofus’s operations, it’ll be him.”

“…Alright.” Chanda replied. “Let me know what you find out.”

“Yeah, you too. Be seeing you.”

Chanda put her phone back in her pocket, hanging up. She sighed, looking around to see if anyone could see her, then turned to leave the agriculture plot.

~~~

Whenever Webby got upset when they were younger, Dewey would be able to find Webby hiding in the mansion’s ventilation system, tucked away where nobody would find her except him. He always knew where she was hiding, and he always knew how to comfort her. He vividly remembered one time where he managed to make her laugh, her giggling reverberating off the steel walls of the vent duct and all across the house.

They were too big to hide in the vents now, obviously. She got stuck in a vent shaft when she was thirteen, and neither of them had attempted to crawl back in ever since. It had taken Dewey a while to figure out the new spot she would go when she wanted to be alone.

Alarmingly, she had chosen the roof.

That was where he found her now. He pushed up the rooftop trapdoor to find her sitting on the west wing roof, watching the sun setting on the horizon. Her back was turned to him.

He slowly approached her, sitting down beside her. They sat in silence, neither of them wanting to talk about the last adventure. Truthfully, Dewey didn’t really know how to talk about it. This wasn’t just inter-family drama and misunderstanding, it was… failure. Dewey didn’t know how else to describe it. It felt like they had failed.

If they hadn’t, that girl would still be alive.

“…Do…” Webby started to say, her voice tight. “…Do you think she had a sister?”

Dewey looked at her. Her eyes were red. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all last night.

He turned back to the sunset. “…I dunno.” He mumbled. He hadn’t seen the girl’s family. He knew that Scrooge had contacted the local authorities when they had emerged from the dungeon, but beyond that, he was in the dark.

Webby pulled her knees up to her chest. “I… I feel awful about it, but… I don’t remember her name.” She choked out. She looked at Dewey, almost begging him with her next question. “…Do you remember…?”

“Filomena.” Dewey replied, staring down at the city below them. “Her name was Filomena.”

Webby wiped her eyes, mumbling, “We- we should do something. To remember her.”

“Like what?”

“…I dunno. Just… something.”

“…We could send her family something.” Dewey suggested. “Or do something for them.”

“…Yeah.” Webby nodded. “Yeah… something from all of us.”

Dewey twiddled his thumbs, not sure how to transition to the topic he came up here to talk about. “Um… listen, Huey told us something that happened while we were gone, um… apparently he was, like, interrogated by this FBI agent about something…”

Webby looked up at him. “What?” She gasped in disbelief.

“Yeah, but Huey thinks that he was just trying to use him to get at Uncle Scrooge, or some-”

“What? What does- why?”

“I dunno. I dunno. The whole thing’s weird.”

Webby stared at him, beak agape. She turned to stare off at the horizon, stunned into silence.

“We, uh… told May and June.” Dewey added. “Well, Huey’s told them, and-”

“We saved the world!” Webby cried, throwing her hands up in a sudden burst of anger. “We beat Magica! Lunaris! F.O.W.L.! Who is this guy to treat us like criminals?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, it’s messed up.”

“My dad hasn’t done anything wrong!” Webby declared furiously. “Nothing! Whoever this agent is, he can go to hell!”

Dewey flinched. Webby didn’t swear often, and he knew to be careful whenever she did. He let her seethe quietly for a few moments before he said, “…The adults haven’t told us yet. But they’ll probably tell us that we’ll need to be careful, or that we need to lay low, or something. And with everything that happened at Galinha, they’ll also tell us…”

“…That we’re gonna stop adventuring again.” Webby finished for him.

“…Yeah. At least until they figure out what’s going on.”

“Great.” Webby muttered miserably.

“…Well, we won’t be going to school this week, at least.” Dewey added, trying to sound positive. “That’s something, right?”

“…Yeah. It’s something.”

Dewey could tell it hadn’t made her any happier.

~~~

Dinner was silent for the most part. They ate stew and mashed potatoes, with half the family on one side, half on the other, and Scrooge at the head. Neither Louie nor June were at the table, still recovering from their injuries, and though they were the only ones absent, the table still felt empty without them.

Towards the end of dinner, Scrooge cleared his throat, directing everyone’s attention to him. “Everyone, listen…” He sighed, a weary expression on his face. “I know there’s enough on our consciences as it is, but… something happened while we were away.”

“The FBI thing.” May spoke up, sullenly mixing her stew with her potato. “Huey told us.”

Scrooge didn’t look surprised. “Aye… and I know the man who accosted him. This ‘Agent Nickel’, he barged into my office the day after we got back from those Phoenician ruins. I didn’t think much of him at the time, but it seems he was more persistent than I thought.”

Huey frowned. “What did he ask you about?”

“About the cloak we nabbed from those two bull-headed gods. Thought it was some kind of weapon.” Scrooge replied, taking another sip of his stew. “Then he made some allusions that he knew about the Other Bin, spat out some half-baked threats, and went on his way.”

“Allusions mean that he knows the Other Bin exists, but he can’t prove it.” Mrs Beakley interjected, her stew half-finished. “We need to ensure that we keep it that way.”

“Why do they even care?” Dewey questioned, his beak half-full of food. “Isn’t the stuff in the Other Bin, like, super dangerous?”

“Ha! That’s exactly why they care!” Della laughed sardonically. Twirling her spoon in the air as she talked, she ranted, “They think we’re sitting on a stockpile of magic superweapons, and they want all that for themselves! It’s all these guys care about!”

“I thought all these particular guys cared about was taking down mob bosses.” Donald remarked confusedly.

“Eh, they all report to the same bigwigs.” Della countered dismissively.

“More importantly, what they want is control.” Scrooge spoke up. “Ever since I first made a name for myself, I’ve had to put up with pretentious politicians and lecherous legislators, all after the same thing! My fortune, my treasures, and in the past thirty years, my land! My ownership of the land Duckburg sits on means that it’s free from the nonsense thrown around by the government, and those gerrymanderers over in Washington know it!”

He slammed his fist into the table, his voice becoming a growl. “This desperate grab at the Other Bin is just their latest attempt to whittle me down! They’ll use it to prop up some- some trumped-up charge against me and from there, they’ll move to rip Duckburg out from under us!”

Daisy put a spoonful of stew into her beak mournfully. “Funny.” She remarked. “You’d think they’d have a bit more gratitude towards the family that saved the world.”

“Bah!” Scrooge leant over his food as he said viciously, “These people don’t know the meanin’ of gratitude!”

Up until this point, Webby had been staring silently down at her bowl of untouched stew, her expression flat and unhappy. At Scrooge’s words, however, she straightened up, and turned to look at him, fierce determination in her eyes. “What do we do?” She asked.

Scrooge leant back, taking a long exhale. “Nothin’. They’re waitin’ for us to give them an excuse to seize the Other Bin. If we don’t do anythin’ reckless, they’ll never get that excuse, and eventually, they’ll have to move on.” He looked at her and added regretfully, “Which means, unfortunately… we’ll have to take a break from adventurin’ for a while.”

The answer wasn’t unexpected for any of them. But Webby still argued, “We can’t just wait for them to give up!”

“This is the federal government we’re up against.” Beakley told her sternly. “These aren’t foes we can fight in a grand climatic battle.”

“Why not? That’s how we defeated FOWL!”

“FOWL didn’t have the entire United States government behind it.” Daisy pointed out. “We have to deal with this the same way we deal with the media – keep our heads down, don’t do anything controversial, and don’t talk about anything they can use against us.”

“Which sucks. We know it sucks.” Della told them. “But it’s temporary.”

Webby didn’t reply. The frustration on her face was palpable.

“…My friends texted me a few hours ago.” Huey said in a quiet voice, prompting everyone to turn to him. “They want to know why I wasn’t at school today.”

“Oh…” Donald murmured sympathetically.

“I haven’t answered them yet.” Huey added. “I don’t really know what to tell them…”

Scrooge looked around at the other adults, and sighed regretfully. “…You can’t tell them what happened in Portugal, lad. Not with this FBI nonsense…”

“Then what do I tell them?” Huey asked desperately. “They’ll know if I lie to them, I-!”

“Just tell them that Louie and June got injured in the last adventure, and we’re just staying with them while they’re recovering.” Daisy told him. “You don’t have to be specific about it. If they press you, just tell them you’re not comfortable talking about it.”

“…Alright.” Huey agreed reluctantly. “It still feels dishonest.”

Dewey looked down at his food, staring into the mixture of meat and potato as he came to a realisation – he hadn’t gone to baseball practice today.

The first practice with Trent Bosman.

He didn’t mention it during dinner, playing it as cool as he could, but once he was back in his room, he grabbed his phone and immediately went to his messages. He wouldn’t have missed this training session for the world, and his friends knew that. His absence alone would have told them something was wrong.

Sure enough, the first message he saw on his phone was from Pete, the team’s best catcher: Hey man, it read. How come you weren’t at school today? You sick?

Dewey hesitated, then began to type out his response.

[useless19]

In one of my previous posts I mentioned reading/playing the old Nintendo Adventure Books when I was a kid. Out of curiosity, I managed to find some scans of them online and poked through some of the ones I didn't used to have.

They still have an old-school cartoon vibe (constant quips, a lot of nasty appearance-shaming toward the bad guys, etc - they're from 1991), but if you can get over that, I really like the way they often have puzzles to give you hints as to which way to go. It's something I feel is missing from most choose-your-own-adventure books.

(Okay, yes, sometimes the puzzles pushed you in the wrong direction or were just straight up wrong, but the concept is there at least).

However, the reason I'm making this post, is because book 4 Koopa Capers has an opening which I'm amazed that the bowuigi crowd seems to have missed.

"KoopExpress," a voice yells outside the Super Mario Bros. plumbing shop in the heart of Brooklyn, New York. "Special Delivery!"

Luigi looks up from his new invention, a water-powered pasta machine. It isn't working quite right. "Strange," he says. "Mario and I weren't expecting any deliveries today."

The tall, thin plumber tucks his high-tech plumber's helper into the pocket of his green overalls and heads for the door.

When Luigi opens the door, he sees a big package on the stoop. It looks like a giant hero sandwich wrapped in brown paper. "Mmm, looks tasty! But there's no return address," he says, stroking his thick black mustache.

Luigi is even more puzzled when he takes the paper off. "It's a rug!" he exclaims. "I wonder where it came from?" He unrolls the carpet on the living room floor. "Very pretty. It looks like a Goomba pattern."

He steps onto the rug to get a better look. "Hey!" he shouts as it comes to life under his feet. It's a magic carpet!

Before Luigi can escape, the rug wraps itself around him so that only his head and feet protrude from the ends. It rises into the air and zooms down the hall through the special pipe in the workshop that leads to the Mushroom World.

The next thing Luigi knows, the rug screeches to a halt in front of Bowser Koopa's castle. "Oh no!" Luigi thinks. "I'm being served to my worse enemy for dessert."

Out of the corner of his eye, Luigi sees two large helmeted red turtles carrying hammers. The Hammer Brothers! They waddle up to Luigi, pick him up, and carry him into the castle, still wrapped in the magic carpet.

Soon Luigi's bearers arrive at Bowser's enormous throne room. They unroll the carpet and send Luigi tumbling across the floor. He rolls to a halt at the scaly feet of Bowser Koopa, king of the turtles and leader of most of the bad guys in the Mushroom World.

"Good," Bowser says, squinting down his slimy snout at the prisoner. "Now, everybody out! Not you," he growls as Luigi tries to sneak off with the rest of the crowd.

Bowser waits until everyone else leaves. Then, in an embarrassed whisper, he says, "I need your help, plumber."

Before Luigi can recover from shock, the turtle king goes on. "My daughter, Wendy O. Koopa has vanished! She may have been kidnapped," he gulps, shedding a large crocodile tear.

He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and continues. "I sent my Koopa Troopas to search for her, but with no luck. I need a real hero to find her!" He puts his arm around Luigi's shoulder and adds, "I know you can do it. But the whole thing must be hush-hush. I want it kept a secret from my sons, the Koopalings. It's possible that one of them may be the kidnapper. Besides, no one can know you're working for me. It would be terrible for my image."

Luigi is very confused. "Let's recap," he says. "You want my to find your daughter? And you don't plan to tell anyone I'm working for you? So I'll still have to fight your flunkies, including your bratty kids, while I'm doing it?"

Bowser nods. "Right. Of course, your brother Mario might have been a better choice, but---"

"Oh sure, everyone would rather have Mario," Luigi retorts, offended. "Too bad he's fixing that drip at Niagara Falls. What if I say no?"

"I'd be very annoyed," says King Koopa, showing all his teeth in a sinister smile.

As Luigi looks at Bowser's enormous teeth, he says to himself, "Maybe Bowser is telling the truth. There's a first time for everything. And he does seem upset."

Luigi takes another look at the turtle. Bowser is now gazing at the ceiling and whistling innocently. "On the other hand, he's a born liar," the plumber thinks. "Well, maybe I should look into this mystery, just to see what the real story is. Besides, it would be quite a tale to tell Mario."

"Are there any clues?" he asks aloud.

Bowser holds out two shreds of paper. "There was a note in her room, but her Nipper plant chewed it up. This is all that's left."

Luigi can read only two words, FORT and MAGMA, on the scraps. "Intriguing," he says. "Okay, I'll do it. It might even be fun!"

Solve this puzzle to see what happens next:

Help Luigi find his way through this message maze to see where the clues lead.

If you think Luigi should go to the Magma Pits, turn to page 55.

If you think Luigi should go to the Fortress, turn to page 20.

If you think Luigi should look around Koopa's Castle, turn to page 29.

[tadpolesonalgae]

So my girlie has cancer, nice. YOU KNOW I HAD THOUGHT OF THAT like why she's basically eating herself up (don't know any other way to describe this) but then i was like illnesses like cancer are probably not even possible for faes' due to their regenerative abilities? good to know that's what that is though. I am a littleeeeeeeeee pissed about the Bas convo because i've already started headcanoning about how the reader will feel a little guilty about how she handelled the situation after she's in a better mindspace. MY POOR BABY BAS LIKE HE WAS SSO IN LOVE WITH US WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'TTTTTTTTTTT UAHUAHUAHUAHUH so now how is she gonna cure herself :3 is she going to be her sciency-self and start mixing chemicals??? or does she get a new body? kinda like amren situation??? (i imagine her shedding skin like a snake? or lizard)

um, being totally honest with you I'm not really sure how to respond to you? I'm having quite a bit of difficulty figuring out your tone through text...?

Um, anyway though, it's not really cancer - I wouldn't call it that anyway. I won't deny that some of her symptoms do line up for those of cancer, but I would argue that blood appearing where it isn't supposed to, night sweats/fevers, lumps in your skin are some pretty straightforward signs to give a character to let people know there's something wrong with them?

I think it might be tricky because originally Reader's power was going to be radioactivity (varying on the type of radiation - alpha at her fingertips usually but sending out gamma radiation during large detonations), which can cause cancer (It isn't radiation anymore, don't worry that isn't a spoiler). However, I ultimately decided against that pathway when it started leading me to learn some stuff about nuclear energy, atomic bombs, and eventually lead back to World War II and just with how the world is at the moment I wasn't comfortable touching on it. I didn't feel like I had the words or the understanding to articulate a story like that and I also felt mainly that it wasn't a story I wanted to write? That giving reader the power of radioactivity/something similar to nuclear power would distract from the story that I actually wanted to write?

Anyway, that was a very long way of saying while I can completely see why it might look like it's cancer, I'd like to clarify that it isn't. As cbmthy continues we'll gradually learn more about what her magic does, and is :)

'MY POOR BABY BAS LIKE HE WAS SSO IN LOVE WITH US'

haha, I'm happy you feel so connected to him! Sorry for writing it so that he's going away though :') Though that was a very fun scene to write, as well as then heading into the parallels between Bas leaving Velaris and reader leaving life behind, and that being that driving force behind her determination to tell the people around her <3

'so now how is she gonna cure herself :3 is she going to be her sciency-self and start mixing chemicals??? or does she get a new body? kinda like amren situation??? (i imagine her shedding skin like a snake? or lizard)'

She's going to cure herself?

[dragonzfanfics11]

hi I'm not sure if you have done this already/ if you are still taking requests but if you are could you please do the SBG group reacting to the reader coming out as trans masc please? thank you so much for making these I really enjoy reading :3

hiii thanks for the request and I'll try my best with this I don't know everything about trans people but I know some!

Warnings- probably spelling errors, nothing to bad

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ashlen

Shed probably be a little confused on what that is so youd have to explain what being trans is

Once she kinda gets an idea of it she's still supportive and probably mixes up your pronouns accidentally at first but eventually gets the hang of it

She'd be supportive on any look/style you'd want to try and give honest opinions when you want her to

Either way still treats you the same way and trys her best to support you!

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Aiden

I think he might have a small idea of what being trans is or have some terrible misconsumption about it saying something bazar 😭

After you explan it a bit better to him he's completely supportive

I feel like he'd definitely either joke about becoming trans himself or send you trans memes all the time

Since he's rich and all I can see him buying you things to help you transition I to being trans (is that the right word?)

Like he'd buy you a binder if you wanted one and that sorta thing

Definitely would let you take some of his clothes if you wanted to try out his style

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Ben

Probably either knows absolutely nothing on what being trans is or knows a good amount of what it is

You might have to explain some of the details and Ben would also probably do a little bit of research on it himself just to make sure what it is

Either way though he's 100 percent supportive!

He'd give honest opinions on anything you ask him like if whatever style would look good on you and what not

He'd also let you borrow some of his shirts if there not huge on you (which most likely are)

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Tyler

You'd definitely have to explain it to him because he'd have no clue

If he did know what that was he'd definitely thought it was a joke on YouTube or something

But after you explained it to him he was supportive

He'd let you borrow his shirts more and give you opinions on what styles look good on you

He'd be a little sceptical at first thinking it was a prank or something but when he figures your telling the truth he's supportive 100 percent

Also later he realized he's technically gay now

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Taylor

I think she'd be the once to know the most of what trans is compared to the whole group

Shed be sooo supportive and take you on shopping sprees when she should and help you figure out your style

Shed love helping you figure out how to cut your hair and how to dress that sorta thing

Shed be such a good girlfriend no matter what gender you re she loves you just the same

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Logen

he might know a small amount on what being trans is

Though you still might have to explain it a bit and he'd do some research on his own about it

He'd be super supportive and lend you some of his clothes whenever you wanted

Would definitely recommend some styles if you asked

He'd make sure you where comfortable with yourself all the time when he figerd out how much hate they get

Will love you either way <3

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Hope you liked it!!! Also shout out to all my trans readers your all valid and awesome!!!! 🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷

[pillarofna]

alright! recap of the last 3 hours. tldr neighbor got arrested for five felony charges and almost killed her husband 👍

so. shes been getting bad the past few days (saying stuff like “i dont give a FUCK how you feel” and “i wish you would just drop dead” to her husband, that sort of thing) and apparently she had another violent outburst and she left the apartment. so i went over to talk to him and see what was up to see if he was ok (he has terminal heart failure so like. i wanted to check on him)

while im there suddenly theres a POUNDING on the door, non stop, really angry knocking over and over. he tries to say like “what do you want” to her through the door but she doesnt stop. he tells me “just open the door before she gets more violent and breaks a window” so im like you know yeah ok. im scared as fuck but yeah so she gets angry at me and tells me to leave im like Yep was planning on it 👍 but her husband told me he didnt feel safe alone with her.

she starts screaming at him saying a lot of really irrational things and hes just like “look, what can i do to make it so we can talk like adults” and that sets her off. by this point i was standing outside the door to their apartment (he was in the doorway) and hes just like “should i call the cops??” because we both have peaceful contact restraining orders and she was in a place where it was likely shed get physically violent. i tell him look if youre afraid for your safety (which with her history he had every right to be) then id call them. shes still screaming the whole time this is happening too

i pull up the number for the police dept just in case, and as im doing that she grabs him, throws him inside, and slams the door shut behind them and i hear loud thumps like someone being thrown against the wall. im already on the phone with dispatch at this point because she Has tried to kill him in the past, and i hear him screaming “DYLAN HELP ME! HELP!!!” like ive never heard him sound so fearful before. i tell dispatch “i have to go in there and see if hes ok” and they tell me to stay outside and stay on the line

they send someone out, i hear more thumping, i’m feeling terrible because it’s likely she’s beating the shit out of him (i know what that sounds like cuz ive seen her do it before.) and, after this was all over, he told me she slammed him into the wall, threw him on the ground, kicked him in the head, and then tried to strangle him with two hands (he had the marks around his neck, too). he said he almost passed out but thats when the police knocked and she answered the door and went outside and i heard her be all “why are you here i didnt do anything” and this whole time im texting her husband and calling him and not getting a response so i was genuinely worried she killed or seriously injured him.

so they start questioning her, she starts getting progressively more defensive and aggressive, and once she asks “can i talk to him?” the cops say no, and she starts SCREAMING. when i say i have never heard someone scream like this in my life…. it was awful. she was screaming at full volume just like a bloodcurdling scream, over and over and over for 20 minutes while the cops are trying to get her in the car. i hear the cops say “stop kicking” and “stop resisting arrest” over and over and she starts saying things like “FUCK YOU YOU SON OF A BITCH IM GOING TO KILL YOU IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU” to the cops…… anyway.

so! she was arrested for five felony counts. 1) domestic violence, 2) violation of a court restraining order, 3) resisting arrest, 4) criminal threat, and 5) harm to officers. and depending on the situation she might be charged for attempted murder.

i felt bad about calling the cops at first because i was like “what if she really didnt do anything” but knowing she tried to kill him… i feel worse that i didnt go inside when he screamed for help but i honestly now think she would have tried to hurt me too and it’s better i called when i did. especially since the only thing that saved his life was the police knocking on their door when they did.

sooo she’s going to be in prison for probably at LEAST ten years. maybe upwards of 25 depending on what they do charge her with…. my god. anyway that was my night :)

[kedreeva]

This might be a shitty ask, so I understand if you don't, or can't!, really answer! I'm in AU, where it's an old farmer's trick to freerange peafowl to eat and scare off snakes. My aunt lives on a farm and she's started talking with great enthusiasm about getting peafowl. She doesn't intend to coop or contain them or have any infrastructure for them at all besides food and water bowls. Even if she had fences- which she doesn't- they wouldn't be more than ordinary wire fences. I've spoken pretty strongly against the idea of freeranging any animals on her property, including her chickens, but she doesn't listen to anyone, and other things (like noise) don't seem to be discouraging her. Other than worming and vaccinating them (which I'll be doing from my own pocket) is there anything at all that I can do to minimise the risk of death, harm, or improve QOL for these poor potential peas? Is there any quirk of training or pea mentality that I can use to keep them in a boundary or radius? If I build them a roost on top of a shed, are they likely to stay within a distance of it? (And yes, I haven't ruled out stealing them, giving them to someone responsible, and telling aunt a feral dog got them)

It's no trouble, and the good news is you won't have to tell your aunt a feral dog got them, because the birds will just leave. If she's that intent on flushing several hundred dollars down the toilet, maybe ask if you can have it instead, and skip the middle man of fussing with the peafowl. She's also welcome to send me the money if she is intent on giving it to someone with peafowl, the result will then mostly be the same! She loses a few hundred bucks and has no peafowl, and someone with peafowl gets a few hundred bucks! The key difference is no birds are harmed in this latter process.

Because here's the thing: your aunt IS 99% going to waste a lot of money purchasing peas and releasing them to free range without first containing them 6-12 months in a standard minimum coop (500 square feet)(and the rule any experienced peafowl owner will tell you is "never free range a bird you can't afford to lose" because even with extended containment first, peafowl often just fuck off when free ranged and they don't look back). They will just leave. it's literally the thing they are known for. I have gotten two free peafowl this year due to idiots near me doing this. Every year people in peafowl groups post about the free birds they just got, when people like your aunt bring them home and let them go. It's a little raffle where you win prizes donated by people who didn't do their research before buying peafowl, or who have more money than sense.

Additionally, even if they stay, they won't scare off snakes. Snakes don't give a shit. The peas will possibly harass or kill one if they see it first and there's a group of them to fuss with it. But in Australia, they are just as likely to die to a snake bite as any other fowl. They have PRETTY fast reflexes, but even in the US I see people lose peas to venomous snakes like rattlers or copperheads.

As for the rest, I don't know if there are any vaccinations that can be given to peafowl in Australia. I know there aren't in the US (I don't think even Marek's is made to be used in peafowl, but DO NOT get that one) because US policy on most fowl illness is to just cull the birds. You also can't effectively treat free range birds for parasites without SOMEWHERE to contain them, because most of the products go in the water and free range may find other sources of water, and the ones that don't you have to repeatedly catch the birds to administer orally.

So yeah. That sucks. Please tell her a peafowl breeder you spoke to thinks she's an idiot if she really thinks she's going to magically convince wild game birds to just hang out upon release with only the enticement of a food and water bowl to keep them around lol

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Revenge

Yennefer loves Geralt and Jaskier, but they can, and do get on her nerves. They can be just downright f***ing annoying! It isn't always on purpose, though. It's little things they do, their little habits and mannerisms that drive her crazy.

It's how Jaskier will make a sandwich and walk away, leaving the counter looking like a five year old tried to make lunch.

It's Geralt leaving his pile of monster gut splattered clothes on the bathroom floor like he doesn't know where the s*dding clothes hamper is. And then Yennefer finds the one shirt he left in a corner somewhere that now smells like a d*mn dead animal.

It's Jaskier and Geralt playing Garbage/Trash Jenga to avoid having to be the one that has to empty the rubbish bins. It was truly impressive how high the garbage could be piled. Yennefer sometimes measured the towers in secret, out of idle curiosity.

Yennefer finds the sound of Geralt chewing annoying. He sounds like f***ing horse grazing. Some days she wonders if she will be the fist woman in history to murder her husband over how loudly he chews.

She can't stand the way Jaskier refuses to put the cup down or just refill it when he's obviously drained it. He just keeps sucking on the straw and moving it around the bottom of the cup like there might be some of whatever he's drinking hiding behind an ice cube.

Geralt keeps leaving his hair in the shower drain. Every day, there is a massive clump of hair, just squatting there. The man sheds like a d*mn wolf in summer. He's got so much f***ing hair, and it grows so fast! And he can wash it with a cheap bar of soap and it will always look amazing. It's not fair!

Jaskier keeps using her skincare products, and her bodywash. Yennefer doesn't really mind that he uses them, what p*sses her off is that he always waits until the containers are completely empty before buying more. And the containers are always empty when Yennefer goes to use them!

And that's something else that annoys her. Geralt and Jaskier will put empty food containers back in the fridge instead of just throwing them out, or putting them in the dishwasher, that neither of them seems to have figured out how to load, start, and empty.

One would think that both men were f***ing illiterate and incompetent because neither one of them seemed to be able to read the To Do list on the fridge or complete one of the tasks.

And yet "Your mom" always ended up on the list and got checked off. Sometimes twice.

Yennefer can be mopping the kitchen floor, and one of them will accidentally spill something, then just f***ing walk away!

Jaskier will giggle at words like "bumhole" , and "weiner", yet claim to be a mature adult.

Jaskier: "I am too a mature adult, Yennefer!

Yennefer: "Boobies."

Jaskier: *cackling, giggling, wheezing*

Geralt will routinely take his phone into the bathroom with him and spend 45 minutes taking a sh*t. Yennefer doesn't know if it actually takes him that long to pinch a loaf, or if he squirts it out in the first two minutes, then spends the rest of the time playing on his phone. Whichever it is, he always seems to do it when Yennefer needs to get in there.

And then he doesn't even have the courtesy to spray some air freshener when he is done! He just leaves it smelling like the inside of the devil's colon!

And that's another thing! The smells! Between their funky sweat and their rancid farts, Yennefer wonders if her olfactory receptors are going last much longer.

Then there is how, when asked what they would like for dinner, they both respond unhelpfully with 'Whatever'.

There's many other little things that get on her nerves, and when her last, frayed nerve snaps, Yennefer has her ways of getting revenge.

If one of them annoys her too much while they are eating, she sends them to the Dipsh*t Table.

After Geralt got so angry with Jaskier that he left him at the mall, Yennefer cast a spell on him that made him literally sh*t golden bricks for the rest of the day anytime he got angry. Jaskier spent that day p*ssing him off on purpose, and they ended up with a small fortune. It had been the best spell Yennefer had ever cast. Geralt's a**hole had vehemently disagreed.

Jaskier ended up with a silencing spell on him after he wouldn't shut up. Yennefer and Geralt had finally gotten a few hours of blessed silence, and a little amusement. They sat watching Jaskier gesticulate and flap about, raging mutely and making obscene gestures, and made a game of guessing what the gestures meant.

Geralt made the mistake of telling Yennefer that she needed to 'lighten up'. Cue Yennefer casting a spell so her and Jaskier's shoes made the Tennis shoe/Sneaker Squeak sound whenever they took a step.

Geralt ended up as a small, angry pomeranian after he woke up in a bad mood and wouldn't stop b*tching about everything. That had only made things worse. He'd barked and yapped, p*ssed AND sh*t on the floor, then chased Jaskier through the house before cornering him in the laundry room and savaging his foot.

Jaskier spent a few minutes as a donkey because "If you are going to act like an a**..." Yennefer had quickly turned him back after he followed her around incessantly braying, and then farted on her.

She turned Geralt into a potoo because, well, he already looked like one anyway. He hadn't done anything particularly annoying that day, she'd just thought it would be funny.

She turned Jaskier into a baby after he kept whining about everything, and she instantly regretted it because oh, no, he's f***ing cute!

Yennefer cast a spell on Geralt that made him cough up a mouthful tiny d*cks every time he 'Hmm'ed instead of used words.

She gave Geralt a little girl's voice after he made fun of the way she had screamed when a cockroach flew at her. Jaskier had teased him relentlessly, only laughing harder the more Geralt demanded (in his little girl voice) that he shut up.

[jjsstars]

thiamweek2023: Day 5, The Pack

|| for @thiamappreciationweek event

|| tags: lowkey stiles bashing but it’s more him just being a dick yk, references to liam’s parents not being supportive of him being bi (nothing graphic)

“Him? You’re dating him?” Stiles scowls and Liam’s jaw clenches, gripping Theo’s hand tighter because he feels like he’s going to pass out or burst into sobs- the smell of concern wafting off of Theo helps nothing.

“I know he’s not part of the pack y-.” The yet gets cut off.

“Damn right he’s not. What the hell Liam?” His eyes tear away from Stiles and his harsh words, landing on Scott instead, he doesn’t look nearly as upset. Thank god.

“My parents don’t know, please don’t tell them.” It softens something on Lydia and Kira’s faces; Liam can’t tell if it’s how normal-teenager that sounded or them getting more okay with the fact that Theo and Liam are dating.

“We’d never, don’t worry.” Lydia assures and gives a smile that probably shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is considering Stiles is all but seething next to her.

“Like hell we won’t- you’re dating a murderer!” It makes Liam’s stomach drop- whether it be the idea that he might be outed or the way Theo’s whole body tenses up hearing what Stiles called him is up for debate, but Liam’s pretty sure it’s both, and probably a million other things about this situation.

“No you won’t.” It’s the first thing Theo’s said throughout this whole thing, his voice sharp and eyes even harsher.

“He speaks! I thought you were going to sit there brooding while Liam tried to convince us you’re not the monster I know you are.” There’s already so much anger built up in Liam’s system, specifically towards Stiles for how he talks about Theo, that the comment almost sends him spiraling into something that’d earn him a forced cold shower a year ago- but Theo rubs his thumb across Liam’s knuckles and that helps, it always does. He wishes he could shove it in Stiles’ face and show him that Theo isn’t a monster, that he cares, that he deserves a second chance, that he’s already changed significantly.

“Out Liam to his parents and I’ll have a lot more to say.” It must just dawn on Stiles that what Liam meant by not telling his parents is that he’s not out to them yet as his face falters, shaking himself out for a moment before he gives a short nod.

“I- I’m not going to out him. But I’m not okay with you two dating.” A beat passes where Stiles and Theo hold too strong eye contact before Scott interrupts them by clearing his throat.

“Stiles that’s enough, if Liam’s happy and nobody’s getting hurt then we’re all going to do our best to support him and Theo.” He says easily and turns to look at Liam and Theo head on, holding a hand up to Stiles’ open mouth as he was obviously going to start arguing.

“I’m not promising it’s going to be easy or there won’t be tension for a little bit, but I’m happy you guys are happy. And I’ve seen that Theo’s already been changing, I know he’s not a monster.” Liam would go bear hug Scott right now if he wasn’t in a room full of people that are still divided on opinions about his relationship- he thinks Scott gets it anyways.

“Thanks Scott.”

“I can give him a chance for you Liam but one step out of line and I’m killing him.” Ever so blunt, Malia gives a short nod and eyes Theo for a moment, she’s not lunging to rip his throat out so Liam will take what he can get.

“We gave Peter a second chance, I don’t see why we shouldn’t give Theo one too.” Lydia isn’t looking at Theo or Liam as she says it, instead staring straight at Stiles with a challenging look in her eye. Sometimes Liam forgets how scary the redhead can be with just a simple expression and crossed arms.

“Fine. But when he goes evil again, I know he will, I’m not going to let him off easy.” It’s a middle ground and that’s all Theo and Liam were really looking for from this conversation— they knew the pack wouldn’t be jumping up and down with support, but no blood has been shed and that’s enough, and Liam knows they’ll come around more. Eventually.

[fabaceous]

Is there ever a hypothetical world where Jackie and Shauna’s situation is reversed (as in Shauna dies and Jackie makes it home)? And if so, how do you think Jackie would react and deal with it?

this is ANOTHER of my favorite cans of worms to open lately so THANK YOU for giving me an opportunity to talk about it!!

i was thinking about this mostly because i was thinking about how shauna's hallucinations of jackie provide us with such valuable information about shauna's thoughts/feelings/desires, how she thinks of jackie, how she thinks of herself (via jackie). hallucighost jackie i think sort of has two sides that are intertwined but serve different purposes - there's one side that's more straightforward and even sweet: it shows how shauna, in her grief and pain, wants to remember jackie (the fun, lighthearted moments; braiding her hair, joking about randy). the other side is more dark but gives us just as much if not more insight into shauna: she uses jackie as a mouthpiece for her own bad thoughts about herself. hallucighost jackie is the whip that shauna self-flagellates with. and she punishes herself, but she's also sort of repressing the fact that she even feels guilty (which maybe is why she needs jackie's "ghost" to guilt her, because she can't admit to herself that she feels guilty). and it all must hurt even more coming out of jackie's mouth - which, if you think about it, is probably why she does it (better fuel for her guilt complex).

ANYWAY, i digress (sort of). my point is, i've always wondered what we could learn from jackie hallucinating shauna. how would jackie want to remember shauna, but at the same time, how might the memory of shauna torture jackie?

if we do a simple swap and have shauna leave the cabin when jackie tells her to during their fight and then shauna freezes, that's one option. we get jackie feeling both immensely hurt by shauna's nearly inconceivable betrayal but, at the same time, feeling guilty for sending her out there. this could lead to some interesting hallucinated convos and, personally, i 100% think it could also lead to jackie doing shauna's makeup in the meat shed lmao. (and thats how you know they're made for each other!)

BUT ALSO. shauna's betrayal (i mean, combined with jackie losing her social status in the wilderness and having the other girls turn on her ofc) made jackie so depressed that she was unable to eat, and shauna dying on top of that would have the potential to completely destroy jackie's will to survive. it would be a big ask, at that point, to get jackie through to rescue. id say its pretty likely she dies of a broken heart, so to speak. like, just loses all her remaining will to live (because her will to live was literally hanging on by a thread and that thread was shauna). the only way i can imagine her surviving long enough to go home is if she has a complete and total break from reality and like, just sort of dissociates from the entire year-plus that follows. i think (? let me know if you agree bc this actually just came to me while writing this and im not sure if it holds up) that if the writers really sold it right, they could convince me that jackie basically goes catatonic and retreats into some fantasy world (one where shauna is around, of course!) for the rest of their time in the wilderness. not exactly the way shauna talked to jackie in the meat shed, because shauna knew she was hallucinating and was more or less able to walk away when she had other obligations. i think jackie would actually legitimately just lose her grip on reality, and succumbing to this would be the only way for her to survive. kind of like the bacchanal but about, like, everything.

the other scenario that occurred to me (and it's a pretty awful way for shauna to die and makes me really unhappy btw, so, sorry in advance) is what if shauna's abortion attempt had gone really, really wrong and she had gotten an infection and died from that? obviously jackie has no clue at this point about jeff/pregnancy/rutgers/etc so its pure unadulterated heartbreak. taissa could play a really interesting role in this situation as the only other person who knows this huge, earthshattering secret. would she keep it from jackie? i think that would be the prudent thing to do. losing shauna would already be almost too much for jackie to take, but she could maybe survive that by designating herself as the keeper of shauna's memory and she could probably convince herself she owes it to shauna to stay alive because if jackie dies then shauna is gone for good. but, as we've seen in canon, finding out that shauna betrayed her sends jackie into a really dark place where she doesnt have much will to live. i think she could plausibly survive with her sanity intact if one or the other happens (shauna betrays her OR shauna dies) but, as i discussed above, experiencing both would either break her sanity or effectively kill her.

and i suspect taissa is smart enough to realize this too, so if she wants to keep jackie alive she'll withhold this information (hide/burn the journals?) and let jackie cling to whatever romanticized image of shauna she comes up with. once they get back to the real world, who knows? taissa might tell her because she feels like jackie deserves the truth, jackie might read shauna's journals from before the crash in an attempt to feel close to her again and find out that way, or even jeff might tell her (worst case scenario IMO)... and im honestly not sure what jackie would do at that point, like, murder jeff maybe? (im joking but i actually am not sure how that whole situation would play out. maybe depression 2.0 but in the real world, but that's not as fun as murder.)

i haven't even said what i think jackie would hallucinate, so lets end with that. for shauna, it's primarily about self-flagellation and self-punishment, although it has some ability to soothe her as well, like when she imagines having fun with jackie.

for jackie i think its actually fairly simple: its obvious to all of us that what jackie wants most is shauna's authentic and full love, and my personal theory is that the main (and maybe even sole!) function of jackie's hallucinations would be escapism and wish-fulfillment, and imagining that shauna really did love her.

jackie doesn't have a self-destruction/guilt complex like shauna does. jackie, i think, would be able to just feel guilt in a more straightforward way. as well as anger! so in the scenario where shauna freezes after their fight, jackie would certainly be feeling a lot of guilt, but she doesn't need or want shauna to remind her, she could just apologize. and she's feeling a lot of anger, but she'd be able to say it to shauna's (hallucinated) face instead of putting it through some twisted alchemical process that turns it into something else. like, i think she actually does have a chance of getting closure in a way that shauna doesn't because shauna would never let herself get closure because then she'd have nothing left to fuel her guilt/self-destruction complex.

i think jackie would want closure for her immediate anger and guilt about shauna's death, and because she wants it, she'd be capable of getting it. but after that's dealt with (assuming she survives long enough to deal with it), or in a scenario where jackie doesn't know about shauna's betrayal/isn't responsible for her death, i really think (and i just made myself sooo miserable realizing this btw so you're welcome. or i'm sorry) that the thing that would cause jackie eternal and relentless pain for the rest of her life would be the immense regret and the feeling that she didn't love shauna enough, or didn't love her right. and her hallucinations of shauna would, by and large, simply be an outpouring of all the love she didn't get to show her in life (and imagining the reciprocation of that love that she always wished shauna would give her).

[retnym]

WORLD TOUR- .11

“Well, you shouldn’t lie to the man.”

“Fuck you, Jace. Fuck you I can’t... I can’t even believe I- I trusted you!”  I scream in his face, on the verge of hyperventilating, holding my chest as my now ex-boyfriend stood before me.

 I found out he had a business trip that was close to my area for my next show from his mom. After she had gotten out of the hospital she found out I was paying for certain things. Wanting to repay me we’ve been talking. Obviously, I don’t want anything back but she had let me know about Jace being nearby so I of course went to surprise him.

Little did I know it wasn’t a business trip. 

He was with a woman. A woman who I knew. It was Tom’s ex-girlfriend. 

“Listen to me, [Name]! For a second!” He shouts back, pointing a finger that almost hit my chest but I backed away. I wasn’t going to cry not in front of him and not in front of that woman. She knew Jace was mine. Tom dated her for 3 months it was nothing serious. This was to get my attention and I knew it. 

“Go ahead, tell me how you just so happened to accidentally meet her here and accidentally get a room together.” I cross my arms, waiting for him to carry on with his lie.

“I felt like you weren’t going to take us seriously.” He starts and I take a deep breath trying not to laugh, shaking my head. “You know what? Shut the fuck up. You just lost a woman out of your fucking league bitch. Just wait until you see me on billboards for the rest of your life knowing you fucked it all up.” I pick up my jacket and walk out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind me. 

That was over two hours and I was now currently driving back to my hotel with everyone else. My phone was repeatedly being blown up but I could care less. It was Jace and once I get back I’m deleting him from my phone. Calling his mom and letting her know she raised one hell of a son. 

My phone rings once more and as I went to press decline I see it’s from Bill. Instead of ignoring it, I decided to answer it. “Hello?” My voice was raspy after going from screaming to not talking at all for two hours. “Oh, you got that sexy voice. How was the reunion?” I smile at his cheerfulness, unfortunately having to shut it down so quickly. “We broke up.” I laughed quietly, mainly to myself. It’s not funny… but it is.

“What!?” He shouts into the phone and due to how loud it was I wince in pain and take the device from my ear for a split second. 

“He was cheating, and fucking guess with who!” I laugh even louder, now taking this less and less seriously. “Who?” He joins me but only because I can’t stop and laughter is contagious. “Nora-Lynn bro! Nora fucking Lynn!” I wanted to fucking pull over from how much I was laughing, I felt like I was going crazy but I couldn’t do it now. I’m five minutes from the hotel. 

“No fucking way.” Bill gasps. “I’m so sorry, [Name].” He sighs but I shrug even though he can’t see it. “It’s cool, don’t worry. I might fuck your brother in rebellion and send it to them in a message though.” I grin to myself but in reality, I couldn’t believe I said that. It’s definitely not true.

As much as we all want it to happen.

I mean what?

Who said that?

“I mean if you think that’s best.” He jokes, at least I think he’s joking. “Alright, I’m pulling into the parking lot. I’ll see you in a sec.” I tell him.

“Ah, I and everyone else are at a bar twenty minutes away. The only one there is Tom so if you want to do what you said I mean the world is your oyster, babe.” He laughs out loud. “I love you, buh bye!” He yells and it now sounds like he went inside that bar.

“I love you too, Billy!” I smile to myself as he hung up in the middle of me yelling back but it’s alright. He deserves to have fun too. 

I parked my car next to Johanna’s I was even lucky it was still open from when I left. I let out a long breath, I was surprised I haven’t shed a tear over him. I guess I wasn’t really connected to the relationship like I thought I was. 

Grabbing my things I made my way in and around the building to my room. This one was a suite so we were all together this time. 

It was an actual key too and I seemed to be struggling to get it open for some reason. Getting annoyed I called Tom. After three rings he answered. “Yes?” 

“Open the door please,” I grunt, dropping the heavy ass bag I had on my arm. “Coming.” That is all he said as he hung up. He sounded like he had just woken up. Or he was just laying down. The door roughly opens and I jump back from the noise of it. 

“I thought you were with Jace?” He scrunches his face confused. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and it looked like he threw on pants. His hair was thrown into a weird loose bun. Biting my lip for a split second I drop everything in my hands and as he went to say something I pulled him into me and I kissed him.

It took him a minute but his arms went around me. A hand on the nape of my neck and the other on the crevice of my back. Pulling me closer.

After a few seconds, we pushed back at the same time. Our eyes met, both dark and he bends down, grabbing my things and then pushing me inside without any words. Placing my things down in the silence he takes my wrist to pull me against him once again, grabbing my face as we kiss again. 

He licks my bottom lip and not even a moment later our tongues were fighting against each other like we did for three years.

The anger of it all, the sadness, the loneliness. 

The feeling of his piercing went with everything else. Feeling like it could pierce me as well and I wouldn’t even mind it if it meant we would do this forever. I knew it wasn’t going to, I knew it would end but that didn’t mean I wanted it to.

We stood in one room for maybe thirty minutes, our feet never moving but our lips couldn’t say the same.

What ruined it was the repetitive noise of my phone vibrating against the table. Tom groaned, not even looking at who it was he knew. He answered it. “She’s fucking busy you lame ass.” He held me with one hand, my chest still moving with his. “Excuse me?” Jace’s voice was heard from the other line. 

“You heard me. Now leave her alone so I can fucking bone her. You can hear about it on MTV later don't worry.” He ends the line and puts the phone down looking back down at me and I grin. "That was a little mean.” I chuckle and he raises his brows. “You think so?” 

“Well, you shouldn’t lie to the man.” I wink, going to step away but he only squeezes me tighter. “Who said I was?” He plays with his lip piercing.

“Oh really?” I laugh, biting my lip as I stared at his face. He leaned against the wall still holding me close to his body. “What are you thinking about?” He mutters, his voice quiet enough for only me to hear in this whole room even though there was no one to eavesdrop anyway. “If I really want to go through with this again,” I whisper.

“We got all tour together. How about we see where it lands.” He leans down to peck my lips. “No sex.” I straight face him, watching his reaction. He didn’t even seem upset about it.

“I could live with that.” 

“Even though you were just about to “bone” me?” I tease him. “Hey, you were giving me that kind of energy.” He jokes back.

“We have a lot to talk about if this is happening, Tom Kaulitz. And we’re not telling the others. Yet.” I point a finger in his face, and his hands go up.

“Sounds okay to me.”

Um okay. Gonna be honest I got writers block lmao. I was having fun with no work and just ended up doing nothing, my bad. Also, the fandom is lowkey weird now. Idk how to explain it. I still like my story and will continue it. I'm gonna be on vacation for two weeks too so I might write more who knows.

[rainintheevening]

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Sometimes he watches Peter, when Peter isn't looking.

They go home for the Easter Holidays, and Mother takes them to church, and they stand and sing, everyone singing, lots of mothers shedding tears, but Edmund looks up at Peter, so tall and straight and singing hard, and Ed wishes he could be that brave and confident, even as he hates that it's Peter taking Mother's arm as they leave, and not Dad.

He misses Dad so much. Misses talking in the evenings by the wireless and looking over the newspaper and Dad not hiding things from him like Peter does. Misses Dad’s jokes and quick wit, and Mother laughing at breakfast when her hair is messy.

Edmund doesn't really say his prayers anymore, but he does beg God to bring Dad home safely.

Peter makes him think about Dad too much though. It's easier with his friends at school, with them there's always something new to plan, always some delightful new way to twist words or people or events. When he works his brain like that he forgets how small he is, and he forgets how hungry he is.

He tells himself he's glad to go back to school.

It's two more terms before the bombing starts. Right at the end of summer holidays, there's a week to go, and the school gets hit. Everyone says how lucky and what a blessing it was that school was out. Otherwise, think of all the children who might have been killed!

There's a grainy picture in the paper, And Edmund stares at it for a long time. He imagines the stones falling in on him, crushing him, and there's something terrible and thrilling about the idea.

He imagines those stones hitting Peter's face, and grins wickedly. But only for a moment. He can't hold that smile, not truthfully.

So they don't go back to school. Neither does Susan. They all stay home, and the grown-ups start talking about sending them away to the countryside, away from the highly populated areas where the Germans would concentrate their assault.

Mother always looks so desperately sad whenever it's mentioned at church, and anytime Edmund tries to ask questions, Peter looks at Lucy and shuts him up.

Peter's always telling him what to do. Sometimes it makes Edmund feel like swearing.

They learn the drills, they develop a routine. There's a week where they spend at least a few hours in the Anderson every single night.

There comes one bad night.

They wake up, and the sirens are wailing, and bells are ringing, and Ed stands at the window, watching the orange and red blossom to the sky. It all swirls around him, chaos, but it's strangely beautiful, there's a terrible power in it.

There are bombs falling on them. They could all die, right now, tonight.

And then Mother is there pulling him away, and Lucy is screaming, and Peter's herding them all down through the back garden, and Edmund remembers.

They're not all here, they've forgotten someone.

Dad.

Dad’s picture, the good one, of him in his uniform, the last one he took before he went away. Ed always brings it with them, and if he doesn't remember, Mother or Lucy usually do. But they've forgotten this time.

They've forgotten Dad.

He hears Peter yelling, he's back in the house grabbing at the framed picture, and then there are arms tight around him, throwing him to the floor, and the whole world explodes, shatters, glass raining down, but Peter's holding him tight, safe just out of reach of all that glittering, jagged shower.

Time blurs.

They tumble into the shelter, Edmund staggers, falls on one of the beds, hand slipping on the broken glass of Dad’s picture. He stares up at Peter, who looks more horrified than Ed has ever seen him before.

They're staring at each other, and Peter's shouting, he sounds like he might cry. Mother hugs Edmund, and he feels a sting on his palm, knows he must have cut himself, but he looks back up at Peter, square on, like he hasn't in ages, sees a wild sort of anger, like a cornered animal.

“Why can't you do as you're told?!”

It rings in Ed’s ears, almost worse than the explosion.

The next morning Peter stands in front of the shattered front window, staring blankly out. Ed comes up beside him, opens his mouth to make a smart remark.

“You could have been killed,” Peter says. “Or worse. That glass would have cut you to ribbons.”

Peter's voice does something funny, and he turns and walks away too fast, and Ed turns, a beat slow, to watch him, watch his back, and it isn't ramrod straight, not today. Peter's head is bowed as he leaves the room.

Next

[that70sshowgoldencouple]

Lots to take in from today's trailer but I'm gonna start with this one little clip. Yes. it's brief and if you blink you might miss it but still!

First off, Newman. (Sorry couldn't resist)

Secondly, do you all see how Red is wearing two hospital gowns? To keep from having one with an open backside LOL That would totally be Red! Although I am wondering if the idea was Red or Kitty's lol

Okay but getting serious for a moment, what the heck is Red doing in the hospital?

When we first saw Wayne Knight in the teaser and it looked like he was in the hospital I assumed it would be with Red but this confirms it. And now I'm really curious what this is about, does Red have some sort of accident or surgery? My mind thought maybe Bob but based on what I do know about Bob's return I don't think we can put the blame on Bob...new basement kids? Maybe

Also could Red being in the hospital be connected to the Carmen Electra scene we see of him in the kitchen with her? Like it's some sort of dream/fantasy sequence. It's not very in character of Red to have this sort of dream sequence, I was thinking it was Kitty's active imagination that was creating it. (I'm like 90% it's a total fake out too, so who ever's fantasy it is, that's all it is a funny make believe moment)

And if Wayne Knight is back is he playing Angel again? Maybe giving Red a glimpse at something in his life? Last time I checked his character in T9S will be named Bruce...but could this be a false name and cover up for his real identity of Angel? Maybe...

These were just some of the first thoughts and questions to enter my mind when watching and rewatching and rewatching the trailer. What questions, guess, thought do you have? Send them in to my ask box I'd love to try to break them down with you and maybe shed light on some of the stuff I know from the tapings I attended (that means I do have extra spoilers :))

Here's my ask box for easy access

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