#chai talks football

[radiantroope]

Fantasy football is a fucking JOKE

I was projected to win 70% and dropped to this??

HE HAS 3 INACTIVE PLAYERS. WHAT THE FUCK.

[petite-gloom]

new chai place opened in reading and i was talking to the owner and joked i'd judge his chai really hard because i grew up in [london borough] and i was spoiled for good chai/authentic indian food and he was like "oh no way, i used to coach football in [london borough] and i was like damn. small world

and the chai was really really good

[dearheartdont]

A snippet of Charles Rowland's life prior to meeting Edwin.

(Note: contains canon-typical mentions of parental abuse and racism)

The letter came to Charles’ house, and every other house in England, when he was fourteen.

His dad opened it at the table, over tea and toast, and set the leaflet contained within down on the tablecloth. The front said AIDS: DON’T DIE OF IGNORANCE against a dark background that looked like a marble slab. Or a gravestone.

The kitchen was quiet as it always was in the mornings; his dad hated the sound of the radio. Charles’ mum had disappeared back upstairs after passing out plates and cups.

With a disdainful flourish, Charles’ dad flicked open the leaflet, scanned his eyes over it and then ripped it into pieces.

“Sending this to every household, like the whole of England is full of perverts. Disgusting.” His voice had the same dangerous tone as when Charles’ school report came home with ‘could try harder’ written in the teacher’s comment section. Charles held his breath like always and stared at his cereal, like the crackle of his Rice Krispies was the most fascinating thing in the world.

With a huff, his father got up, his plate and cup left on the table for someone else to clean up.

At the sound of the front door slamming shut, Charles unhunched his shoulders. He pulled the leaflet fragments across to him, pieced them back together like a ragged-edged jigsaw and read.

men who have anal sex with men ... drug misusers ... many sexual partners …

Charles shoved the fragments back together into a pile and pushed them to the bottom of the bin, where his mum wouldn’t see them. Then he rinsed all the cups and plates and grabbed his bag to leave for school.

***

It was Saturday night, a few weeks later when he saw the TV advert, sandwiched between the end of The Generation Game and the Nine ‘O’ Clock News, Charles and his mum sat next to each other on the sofa. A mug of chai tea in his hands made the proper way, in a pan, and creamy with full-fat milk.

With Charles’ dad out at the pub, the living room was safe until at least 11.30, when his father would return in one of two moods – angry or joyful - depending on how the football had gone. He’d be rat-arsed either way, so Charles would be out early doors tomorrow to avoid his dad’s hangover. He’d wait at the park until some lads from the estate turned up for a kickabout. They weren’t friends, not really: they patted him on the back when he was on their team, but muttered about immigrants when he wasn’t. But they included him. His dribbling skills were too good not to.

The advert showed a volcano erupting, rocks falling, and a sledgehammer drilling, whilst atonal bells and a synthesized choir competed with a sombre voiceover talking about “a deadly disease with no known cure”. Charles couldn’t look away. The advert’s final image was a bouquet of lilies thrown down on a gravestone that bore the epitaph ‘AIDS’. Charles clenched his fingers tight around his mug and gulped his tea.

He felt his mother’s hand touch his knee, lightly. “Nothing for you to worry about, you’re a good boy. Confined to small groups it says,” Charles’ mum said.

Charles gave a sharp nod, and then they waited together in silence for the football scores to come up on the news.

[moviesludge]

tagged by @thechurchofsplatterdaysaints

Do you make your bed? Not usually, but oddly enough I did during covid. Something about doing it then made sense to me but I haven't really thought about it. And then I did it when my ex used to nag me about it. I do it sometimes.

Fave number? Don't really care now but I used to like 13 and 14.

What's your job? Unemployed. Would like to be employed but refuse to work a job I hate unless I have no other option. The stress of my last job sucked bad. I help my family though (parents and sister), and there's a lot to do. My dad does absolutely everything and he's 70, so you know. Shit will be changing sooner than later.

Go back to school? I'm not ruling it out.

Can you parallel park? I can. It's weird too, because the first time I ever did it was completely out of necessity and it was a dark night and it was a really small space too. I couldn't believe it when I did it the first time. And I don't consider myself that good of a driver.

Job you had that would surprise people? I guess the most surprising maybe is call center supervisor for eharmony. Or Blockbuster? I dunno.

Aliens real? I feel like the scope of the universe makes this a certainty and it amazes me how many people think it's a ridiculous idea. Talk about main character syndrome!

Can you drive stick? I never had the means to even learn

Guilty pleasure? Eating stuff I know I'm not supposed to (very sparingly!)

Tattoos? no but I think about it sometimes. I feel like I'd get sick of it no matter what it was.

Fave color? too many. earthtones and ryb are up there.

Fave type of music? probably all the stuff in the post-punk/new wave/no wave/power pop sphere. I'm picky about metal, but when I like something I like it a lot. Also been finding out there's a fair amount of rap stuff I dig. I really like soul and funk music and some oldies (50s & 60s, not modern oldies which are 80s).

Do you like puzzles? Word/mind shit, trivia, board games, etc. Yeah I love Jeopardy and I subscribe to NYT games. I do the crosswords, wordle, strands, spelling bee, and connections games every day. I also like nonagrams and I'll do a sudoku once in a while.

Phobias? just making it in the world, especially when my parents are gone. My parents getting sick and/or dying. Climate change causing a global food supply collapse in my lifetime. The U.S. falling fully into fascism. Basically things that are all certain to happen sooner or later

Favorite childhood sport? Basketball and baseball. Never liked playing soccer or football.

Talk to yourself? Yeah mostly when I'm irritated about something.

Movies you adore? Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, Evil Dead II, Speed Racer, Starship Troopers, Black Christmas, Bad Santa, My Cousin Vinny, Tremors, Gremlins 2, Better Off Dead, Big Trouble In Little China, Boxer's Omen, Terrorvision, etc

Coffee or Tea? both, but mostly coffee. I tried chai tea recently though and I like it a lot.

1st thing you wanted to be when grew up? The way my mind is, I didn't really think about things this way. All I remember desiring as a kid about being an adult was being on even ground with other adults and being given basic respect instead of being treated like a little kid. Like I wanted to sit on the couch and have my feet touch the floor. I wondered what my face would look like as an adult. The idea of a far off future job was irrelevant to me.

tagging @donnerpartyofone @steamedtangerine @jesusismyhostage

[the-cookie-of-doom]

CAT CHAY!!!!!!!!

Okay okay so this one never made it into actual fic form, it's just chat notes from my DMs, BUT!! It's so cute. It started out with Chay being able to shape shift into a cat. Kim struggles talking to people, but when he's got cat!Chay curled up on his lap, it's a lot easier to confess everything. Like. He is overwhelmingly honest. Fully away that it's Chay, too, he's just pretending he doesn't. It's a recurring thing, too, anytime Kim struggles with EmotionsTM, Chay turns into a little emotional support cat for him. Curls upon his chest to purr and nead him and nuzzle his face until Kim says what he needs to say, often with his face buried in Chay's soft tummy.

Mostly this was a bunch of short and silly ideas, like a KimChay rescue scene except Kim bundles Chay up and throws him over a fence like a football when they're running away (chay is so betrayed). Or Chay practicing a partial shift so he can keep his cat ears/purr as a human, but then getting stuck with a barbed dick for a week and absolutely panicking about it.

The other part of this fic is the many, many ways he menaces Kinn lmfao. For comedy purposes he does not like Kinn, but Kinn is trying so hard to be a good brother in law, he puts up with all of Cat!Chay's awful behavior.

Chay's climbing into bed between him and Porsche and sprawling out to push him off the bed? fine. scratching/biting the shit out of him? fine. Pissing in his shoes? fine :)). And all of this happens away from Porsche, who continues to think that Chay is the sweetest little nong ever, and there's no way Kinn is going to contradict him, he doesn't want to make Porsche mad.

That all comes to and end eventually, though. Porsche is having a hard time with something, and when Chay tries to go comfort him, Kinn is already there. Chay is huddled in the corner listening to Kinn gently comfort Porsche, and it's the first time he sees this more tender/vulnerable side of their relationship. It's not just the money or the thrill or the sex, Kinn really is good for Porsche, and that's all Chay wants for his brother. So Kinn gets his stamp of approval after that night. (Although Kinn's still going to be hella suspicious. He's got Trauma)

[wildelydawn]

2 7 11 17 18 35 40 47 73 for the writers ask game

I know it's a lot feel free to not answer all of them hahaha

Hello my dearest!! I will do all of them for you <3

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

It's very minor because he has so few lines/so little presence in the story, but it's when Big dies in II4Y. I didn't want him to die but I realized he needs to die for Kim to understand what permanent loss is. In chapter one, Kim is dealing with a break up, which is definitely a sort of loss, but once Chay and him begin to matter to each other again, Kim begins to realize that loss can be a lot worse, a lot more permanent. By chapter four, he's sort of gotten everyone back, right? Chay is talking to him, he's hanging out with his brothers. Big's death shocks him into remembering that it can be all taken away very quickly.

7. tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

I know that my first fic was something written for classic Fruits Basket, but I can't remember the plot for the life of me. It was probably fluff or a retelling of Kyo's transformation when his bracelet comes off. The earliest, actual fic I can recall the plot too very vividly is a Supernatural Megstiel fic, in which I rewrote parts of Hello, Cruel World so that Meg Masters finds Castiel's trenchcoat and body. Unfortunately, I deleted that story because I wrote it at the height of SPN, and Megstiel was a rough ship to write at the time lol. I wish I hadn't deleted it! It would've been cool to take another look at it now, or maybe even potentially rewrite.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

The entire process of making Thai desserts/food for BSC90 has been so great. Like, truly unmatched. Outside of fandom, my research is really depressing and almost always about the Law/law. So to really deep dive into how these foods are made and how chocolate was/is produced in Thailand is really fun. I do take research pretty seriously, and I do what I can to be as accurate as possible. Right now, I'm pretty knee deep in reading about football/football RPF, and I recently followed a bunch of popular players on my Instagram, and that's been pretty wild. And, of course, can't forget my favorite Dutch politicians either. Though, that research wasn't for writing. I just really got interested in reading about the Netherlands and far right government officials. I find myself just rereading or watching Dutch debate whenever I can find translations, fan-written or official.

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

God. It changes so often, especially depending on my mood. Right now, it's from YLTTL:

The subtle but decreasing hesitations in WIK’s motions make Porchay unsteady and ashamed at the same time. In his dreams, he envisioned WIK as the criminal: keen on stealing Porchay’s heart and laughing mercilessly while walking away, leaving Porchay naked on the floor. He imagined, the other week, after WIK had left him alone, that at their best, they could only ever be temporary bliss: a mistake, heat of the moment, other clichés that left Porchay feeling angry and confused. He had resolved that if the moment were to come, he’d give himself entirely to WIK and blindly hope that WIK would do the same, and they could leave without saying anything more. 

Their togetherness, he cruelly imagined, would be one born of force, passionate with no regard for the future, a story as old as time: those with power taking advantage of those with none.

18. what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

The action of writing is my favorite part of writing. And also finding out if someone reread something of mine. Least favorite part is posting/submitting/publishing.

35. tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

Definitely Chay. Chay is so different from me. I think what we have in common is poverty and independence, but other than that, Chay is such a bold, forward, dynamic character. He takes what he wants! When I wanted to ask out my current partner, I wrote a letter and then fled the country. Chay, on the other hand, just fucking shows up to where Kim is and calls it a date. I think he's the bravest character in the whole fucking show actually. All of what he does, what he navigates, is mostly done alone and independently and, up to a certain point, by choice. I admire that so much. He takes risks, even if it ends in detriment to himself. He's never static, he's never standing still. He feels things and acts on those emotions. Now, whether he processes them properly or maturely is up in the air, but he's not wallowing for long, and I truly think in a post-canon world, he would continue to do what he can to move on and adapt to his new life. That can be "Chay having a ho phase" or "Chay integrates into the mafia" or "Chay runs to Switzerland, meets Kang Yohan from The Devil Judge, and becomes a vigilante judge when he comes back to Thailand."

40. best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

"You're probably going to get decimated, but everyone will have questions." This came from my dissertation advisor/mentor. And she was right!

47. what story are you most proud of?

It's definitely a tie between YLTTL and Still Painting Flowers for You. I'm quite proud of the latter. It's short and it has, what I feel, is a good balance of canon and a reflection of two very important women in my life.

Thank you for all these questions, my crunchy little friend! It was so fun to write this out hehe.

Ask me writer things!

[my-fall-from-grace]

Get to know me

i was tagged by @goalsyoudontake !! tysm and sorry it took me so long to get around to it lol, i swear i appreciate the tag <33

Do you make your bed?

not properly? i just kinda fling the covers back into place but i def don't make it neat

Favourite number?

6! no real reason, i just vibe with it

What's your job?

software engineer! sit at a computer all day and then come home and sit at another :)

If you could go back to school, would you?

i plan to! i want to complete a masters degree, just need to decide what to study lol. currently taking a gap "year" to work and see what interests me

Can you parallel park?

technically yes, realistically barely

Do you think aliens are real?

there's 100% some more life somewhere out there but i don't believe we've encountered it yet

Can you drive a manual car?

yes! i've not had too much experience w it, but i can. honestly i think i prefer manual

Guilty pleasure?

fanfic :') like i read SO much it's truly my favourite thing. i say guilty bc im still amazed by all the newer/younger crowd who are saying it so publically while i'm still lowering the brightness and would kill myself if my irls were aware of this

Tattoos?

i don't have any but i really want some! not super big ones, but little ones, mainly for my family. i really vibe w the hearts / flowers / galaxy drawn in your loved ones styles

Favourite colour?

purple, i am one of those annoying purple is my favourite colour people to the point that everyone in my life associates me with it. i mean, look at my blog lol

Favourite type of music?

indie sorta? i love noah kahan, chappell roan, clairo (sofia my beloved), grace powers, mitski, etc

Do you like puzzles?

i do but i never do them lol

Any phobias?

mmmm idk if id say phobia really but i hate bugs / insects. i need to hype myself UP for 10 mins to even approach a cockroach

Favourite childhood sport?

i was a tennis girly!! played it for close to 13 years? i also did swimming, football (soccer), & gymnastics (for SUCH a short period of time lol)

Do you talk to yourself?

i am forever yapping to myself, in my head and sometimes out loud as well. but in my head? a constant monologue. someone needs to tell me to shut up

Tea or coffee?

i mainly drink tea!! black tea is my preferred one, with persian rock sugar thanks to my irl best friend <33 but i LOVE thai tea and masala chai so badly but i still haven't learned how to make it properly - PLS hit me up if you know how 🥺

First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

hmm i feel in my earliest times i wanted to be a tennis player bc that's just kinda what you do when you play the sport your whole childhood lmao

What movies do you adore?

i love tenet, the dnd movie, little women 2019, top gun 2 specifically, etc. i do watch the hobbit yearly in december w my dad tho so i fear i have to give an honourary shout out to that

tagging @britney-rosberg06 @canadiankakashi @anepiphany @rohruh @agnst-crrnt and anyone else who'd like to do this, consider yourselves tagged as well <33

[radiantroope]

Wearing a Chiefs jersey in Cowboy country is ruff.

[hauntingmesostunningly]

get to know hauntingmesostunningly ★

BASICS:

♥︎ call me S, she/her, XVI

♥︎ jewish

♥︎ GAD, GDD, UMD, ARFID, autism & more

♥︎ spoonie (POTS, endometriosis, ME/CFS)

♥︎ mobility aid user

♥︎ swiftie

♥︎ lesbian and asexual

YES:

taylor swift, gracie abrams, sabrina carpenter, olivia rodrigo, phoebe bridgers, porsche cars, formula one racing, legos, books, Cd's, writing, drawing, fanfic, mauraders, harry potter, the hunger games, twilight, fourth wing, hockey romance books, country music, handwritten notes of appreciation, jellycats, the beach, sharks, whale sharks, mobula rays, marine biology, veterinary medicine, cats, service dogs, pink cowboy hats, vacations in mexico, kittens, bully breed dogs, forearm crutches, compression socks with designs, lesbians, tanning, msunny days, vinyards, camping, forests, birkenstocks, greys anatomy, marvel, pumpkin spice, fall, christmas, tarot, orcas, wiener dogs, alix page, fairy lights, iced chai, academic validation, converse, rain at night, foggy mornings, dragons.

NO:

volleyball, sweating, mean teenage girls, ice spice, polyester bed sheets, atmospheric rivers, the red queen saga, tight fitting hoodies, vans shoes, greek mythology, homework, tests, medical gaslighting, school presentations, white chocolate, judging people's mobility aids, DC, hot topic clothes, sun burns, oily sunscreen, bangs sticking to your forehead, long nails, wet socks, anime, pe class, kanye west, rap music, hating on swifties who watch KCC football, taylor swift hate, girls picking on eachother, polyester shirts, yelling children, abelism, soccer, misogyny, steak, dehydration.

DNI:

over 20 y/o, under 13 y/o, abelist, antisemitic, pro-palestine, anti-zionist, (just don't talk to me about the war, ok), mysogonists, T.S. haters, racist, queerphobic, ect.

asks are ok, but DM's are not unless we are mutuals.

(just be nice and not creepy)

[santiagosilva]

[ chay suede, cis man, he/him ] - was that santiago severo da silva i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the thirty-three year old who has been in nightrest for his whole life on and off and works as a professional soccer player (usmnt defensive midfielder) has a reputation of being resilient, but also spiteful. they reside in low point & people in town usually associate them with early morning workouts, not being ready for big changes, muscle tape on legs, guilty pleasures, football chants & an unwillingness to forgive. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

trigger warning: divorce

BASICS

full name: santiago severo da silva

nickname: santi

date of birth: september 25, 1989

gender: cis man

pronouns: he/him

occupation: professional soccer player

birthplace: nightrest, massachusetts

sexuality: heterosexual

height: 5′10″

BACKGROUND

he was born in nightrest to a big family. he was the second oldest and the second son. he had one older brother and two younger sisters, and they were all a really big, happy family

he looks back on his childhood very fondly because it was filled with a lot of happy memories with his family and his friends and he was incredibly close with his siblings too

when he was sixteen years old, his parents started fighting, and eventually they announced that they were getting a divorce

his mother wanted to move back to brazil, and though the choice was there, santi didn't want to leave his father and his siblings behind

their parents stated that they "fell out of love" and santi thought that was absolute bullshit. up until that point, he looked up to his parents with so much respect and love and he couldn't understand how people who claim to love each other so much could just suddenly not anymore

also imagine his betrayal when all the siblings said they were gonna stay, except for analu. santi liked to think he was really close with all of his siblings. he was close with his older brother because they were the only two guys, he was close with analu because she was the sibling that came right after him and they had the same zest for life, and he was close with the youngest because he felt protective over her

he thought they had an understanding that even though their parents are breaking up, the siblings will always, always be together so when analu came back during her junior year of high school, santi was incredibly cold with her. he was very curt with her, didn't really talk to her that much and that animosity stayed with him.

he knows it's mostly misdirected anger because he was more angry at their mom for leaving, but he figured he had enough anger to go around

santi's one true love had always been soccer (he calls it football) and he'd been playing that sport since he was a kid. it's one of the things he bonds over with his dad because they'd watch football games all the time (let's gooooo seleção canarinha)

he was the only freshman to have made it to the team back in high school, and he was also on a sports scholarship in uni

it didn't take long before he became a part of the usmnt as a striker, eventually becoming the team's captain

that was more than ten years ago, and he's no longer the player he used to be. he can't play the way he used to, he's not as fast as he used to be, and while his love for the sport is still as strong as it was, he knows it's time to throw in the towel

it's his last year and he decided he wouldn't renew his contract with the team, but a part of him knows that even if he wanted to renew it, they probably wouldn't sign him on which breaks his heart

so he's ending things on his own terms, but he also has not talked about it with literally anybody

PERSONALITY TRAITS

+ hard-working, resilient, disciplined

- closed off, stubborn, unforgiving

FUN FACTS

strong af #mommyissues

has only ever been in three serious relationships (one in high school, one in college, and one when he was just starting out being on the team) and the rest have just been flings

he wakes up very early. he's very disciplined when it comes to his training, even though it's not as rigorous as it used to be

loves to cook. he learned to do it from a young age because he wanted to make his own meal plan

for the most part, he doesn't really get into trouble. he's just kinda living his life, not really laying his problems onto everybody else, but is willing to listen to everybody

he doesn't have a plan for what comes after his last year but he figured that was a problem for future santi

definitely holds a lot of sadness still for the life he used to have like he achieved his dream which is what everybody talks about, but nobody really prepared him for what comes after

he's kind of a fuckboy but also not??? when he's in a relationship, he's very devoted, but when he's not looking for a relationship, then it would take a lot for him to actually settle down

he's extremely picky with everything - the people he gets into relationships with, his food, where he spends his money, where/what/who he spends his time on

channels his anger into the game but isn't opposed to getting into fights here and there

fluent in portuguese

still loves his siblings (except analu rip) so much and would do absolutely anything for them

came back home because there's a small break mid-season and also because he needs to look after his dad and he misses home but is also severely confused because he hasn't come back here since before the first body washed up on shore and suddenly, he came back to serial killers, an engagement party and his friend pregnant and he's literally like :pedropascal:

mostly just has absolutely no idea what's going on but is rolling with it

has been back for only three days!!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

his siblings!!

his ride or die

squad

ex-best friends

childhood friends who stayed friends

childhood friends who drifted apart

opposites attract

his high school ex (must be 32-34)

his college ex

his after college ex

fellow football fan (alliteration ftw)

friends with benefits

enemies

flings

family friends

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 17

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 3355

Warnings: None

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: The Story of Us Think of You Knees

****

Ghost

She had stared at the text more than she cared to admit, her finger hovering over the keyboard to type out an okay but never touching the screen. Ghost couldn't bring herself to do it. What good would come of talking? Sure, Rooster would apologize, and they'd make up and go back to being friends, but how could either of them pretend that they didn't know the other liked them? That they reciprocated each other's feelings? How could they ever go back to being what they were? 

They couldn't.

So Ghost ignored the text, telling herself distance was still the best policy, even though, deep down, she knew it was because she didn't want to get hurt more than she already had. Ghost had to protect herself and her feelings, especially with such a critical mission to focus on right around the corner.

Ghost planned on sleeping and enjoying some much-deserved time off, but someone else had other plans. At nine a.m., an unannounced presence knocked on the door. When Ghost opened it, Bryn said, "I'm not letting you hide from everyone just because you and Rooster got in a fight. You're joining us for dogfight football today, or so help me God, I will have Maverick and Hangman drag your ass to the beach."

Ghost blinked. "Good morning to you, too. Any other threats you want to hurl at me?"

"No, but I will throw in the fact I feel really out of place without you there, and I miss having my best friend there," Bryn admitted shyly, handing over an iced chai latte. "I even brought you a bribe. Please? For me?"

Ghost groaned but conceded. "Fine, fine. I guess I don't need sleep anyway..."

Bryn grinned and sat on the couch while Ghost dressed in her closet. From the living room, Bryn shouted, "So, are you ever going to tell me what this argument is between you and Rooster? He said it was nothing, but it's been over a week, and neither of you has reconciled nor spoken a word about it to anyone. What gives?"

"I'd really like this to stay between Rooster and me. It's bad enough everyone is getting caught in the crosshairs of our tension as it is. I don't want them getting involved in the actual argument," Ghost said, purposefully leaving out the part of her and Rooster confessing their love to each other after all this time. "I'll say this, though. He said some pretty hurtful things, and I don't want to talk to him right now. I have a mission to focus on and-"

"I knew it wasn't simple training exercises!" Bryn exclaimed, pointing victoriously at her friend when she entered the room. "Let me guess: stealth?"

"What else am I good at?" Ghost countered with a small smile.

"Everything when it comes to flying? You're kicking ass at the dogfights."

The comment stunned the aviator. She figured they'd seen her most recent one yesterday judging by the text from Rooster, but more than that one? That was news to her. "You've seen them?"

"Oh, yeah. The Daggers and I have figured out the schedule of the dogfights, so we usually take residence on the overlook for the base and watch from there. I missed yesterday's because of an appointment, but you had them terrified, thinking you were going down. Is that pilot all right?"

"Yeah, he got kicked out of the tournament, though. Not because of his accident but because even though he was the last man standing next to Maverick and me that day, his course run time knocked him out."

"What's your standing?"

"Number one, but Hollywood is keeping me on my toes. He's only two points behind. I got him out early yesterday, so that helped. Everyone's pissed I keep using Maverick as my wingman when things are odd-numbered, but Cyclone keeps letting it happen."

"Because Cyclone has a soft spot for you," Bryn said with a grin. "Ever since you bought his lunch after he'd had a rough day. He didn't find out it was you that did that for how long?"

"Three or four months. Cyclone's a softie once you get past that cold, hardass exterior." Ghost shouldered her beach bag. "You ready?"

"Yep!" Bryn jumped up from the couch. The two girls headed to Bryn's cute little BMW and hopped in. Ghost enjoyed the sun on her face and the smoothness of her friend's driving, glad to be in the passenger seat for once. That peace disappeared the moment they pulled up to the Hard Deck, and Ghost saw Rooster tossing the football back and forth with Maverick like father and son. Her presence would interrupt that bonding time the two so desperately needed. All those years of hard feelings wouldn't disappear over the course of a few weeks or months, but they were a hell of a lot better than they were before.

"Come on. This will be good for you two," Bryn said, squeezing Ghost's shoulder reassuringly. "You'll get past this. After all, you're Rooster and Ghost."

"What does that mean?"

"He's got you through your worst times, and from what I've heard, you've done the same for him. Whatever this argument is, I don't think it'll be what breaks you two apart for good."

Ghost smiled appreciatively at her friend. God, if she only knew what the argument had been about, she wouldn't be saying any of this. "Thank you, Bryn. Have I ever said how grateful I am to have you as a friend?"

"You don't need to. I already know. Let's go!"

The two girls exited the vehicle and stepped onto the cool sand. The moment Bryn walked a few paces ahead, Ghost diverted herself to the picnic table to drop off her stuff and prolong the inevitable face-to-face with Rooster.

"Hey, Ghost," Bob said quietly, stopping next to her with his own bag of belongings. "It's good to see you here."

"You too, Bob. How've you been?"

"Good. Missed having my fellow stealth around to disappear with."

Ghost's heart went out to sweet Bob. "I'm sorry. I've gotten called back for some training exercises and-"

"I know. And you and Rooster are fighting."

"Oh God, does everyone know about that?"

"No, but a few of us have picked up on it. I also overheard you talking to Maverick at the bar last week. I went up to the bar behind that other guy- Hollywood, I think- so you didn't see me. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you disappeared so quickly, and then you've been MIA since that night, I figured that's another reason you haven't been coming."

"You're not wrong. Who else knows?"

"From what I can tell, outside of you and Rooster, it'd be Bryn, Phoenix, and probably Hangman. And Maverick, of course."

"That's better than I thought it would be... I am sorry, though, Bob. I'm not meaning to avoid you and the team; it just happens since Rooster is always with y'all."

"I get it. You gonna be okay playing today?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she promised. Then, standing up, Ghost slung her arm around his shoulders and said, "Come on, stealth. Let's go kick some butt."

Bob put his arm around her shoulders, and the two trudged over to the huddle. They stood behind Phoenix and Hangman while Maverick named the teams. He pulled out Ghost's name from the bucket and said, "You're on my team."

"When did you get here?" Fanboy asked incredulously when Hangman and Phoenix parted to let Ghost and Bob through. 

"A few minutes ago with Bryn. Honestly, I intended to catch up on the sleep I've missed the past week and give my body a rest from all the flying, but I was threatened within an inch of my life if I didn't come today."

Bryn rolled her eyes. "I threatened you with Maverick and Hangman."

"I don't see the difference in what I just said."

"It's good to have you here, Ghost," Rooster commented, the softness of his voice causing her heartstrings to tug painfully in her chest. How could he be so sweet yet so destructive at the same time?

"Good to be here, Bradshaw," she responded. His last name slipped off her tongue before she could comprehend what had happened, but it did not go unnoticed. Rooster tensed at the sound of his last name, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hangman's head snap in her direction. If he hadn't known something was going on between her and Rooster before, he did now.

Maverick continued naming the teams, and Ghost forced herself to keep her eyes on anyone and anything but Rooster, afraid if she allowed herself one glimpse, it would remain there forever, seeing what had been and what could've been, seeing the love they'd shared and the hate they'd exchanged, the fights and the makeups. Ghost would see everything that had formed their relationship, and she didn't want to. It would hurt more than help, and Ghost needed to focus on the upcoming mission, not on Rooster.

Rooster ended up on her team, meaning she wouldn't have to face him down, not this round, at least. Bryn stood on the opposing sides, and they stuck to defending each other. Ghost, the more athletic one, thanks to her military training, managed to block Bryn from getting the ball and even managed a few interceptions, but Hangman had Bryn's back and would be there to tackle Ghost whenever the opportunity arose. Whenever he did, Hangman would do what she called 'The Hulk Out,' where he flexed his muscles to high-heaven and looked too good doing it. Ghost got back at him by tickling him when he least expected it, causing him to let out a high-pitch yelp every time, a far cry from his usual masculine demeanor.

Then the teams got switched up. Ghost remained with Maverick, along with Rooster, who she ended up next to in the huddle, their arms slung around each other's shoulders. Her skin burned under the contact of his arm, a mixture of his heated body and the electrical currents rippling through her body at his touch. His fingers mindlessly gliding up and down her shoulder blade did nothing to help. All it did was force memories of the two of them entangled in the sheets together, her head on his chest and him dragging his fingers along her back exactly like he was doing now while they talked about sweet nothings.

Ghost couldn't escape the huddle fast enough, and her mind spiraled toward how to talk to Rooster for the remainder of dogfight football. They had to if merely being in his presence and a simple touch sent her body and anxiety into overdrive. But when? And how? Should it be before or after her mission? If it happened before and didn't go well, then she'd be dealing with that on top of the stress of the mission? But what if she waited until after the mission but didn't survive? Ghost didn't want Rooster to think she hated him when that was so far from the truth. 

I hate this. I wish Ghoul was here... she'd have an answer for me, even if it was locking Rooster and me in a room together until we sorted this out. Ghost smiled softly- and a little sadly- to herself. She missed Thea 'Ghoul' Winchester more than words could say. If only she were here now...

"Ghost? You good?" Maverick asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, got a little light-headed, is all," she lied, not wanting to drag Maverick down with the truth of her thoughts. Ghost hated when her reflections went down the rabbit hole of sad nostalgia, and it seemed to be happening more and more often.

Forcing her focus back onto dogfight football, Ghost continued playing, but her heart was no longer in it. Thankfully, it didn't last much longer after Fritz landed on his foot wrong and undoubtedly snapped something in it. Omaha and Halo departed to take their friend to the doctor. Harvard and Yale left not long after for some of their own appointments. The rest of the Daggers took a seat on the beach. Ghost refused to leave, not wanting to lead anyone else to the conclusion that she couldn't stand to be around Rooster. Enough of them knew already. 

Ghost wouldn't do it sober, though, and the others seconded her idea to get some drinks. She offered to grab them, and Hangman volunteered to join her before Rooster could even open his mouth to do the same. The two entered the Hard Deck, and Hangman pounced. "What the hell is going on with you and Rooster? The only time I know you to call him Bradshaw is when you're mad at him or being sarcastic, and that was not a sarcastic comment earlier."

"Nothing," Ghost replied, pulling out a couple of twenties and handing them to Tom the bartender. "Nothing I want to talk about."

"Hey, you've been quiet lately, and you've been leaving whenever he comes around," Hangman said gently, lacing his fingers with hers. "Even today, it's like you can barely stand to be around him. What did he do to you?"

"We had an argument, and that's all I'll say on the matter, okay? It's complicated."

Hangman nodded and looped his arm around her neck, pulling her into a hug. He kissed the top of her head. "Whatever it is, you always have me, all right?"

"I know," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his waist. She did know Hangman would always be there for her. No matter when she called or texted, he would answer her, and if he didn't, it never took longer than an hour for him to call back. The day he stopped doing this would be the day Ghost knew she was truly fucked, but she couldn't think of anything that could make that happen. If they could survive breaking up twice and still be there for each other, she couldn't fathom what could break them now. 

"Here's your beers and a triple of whiskey," Tom said, sliding the drinks over to the pair. 

Hangman raised an eyebrow at Ghost. "A triple?"

"I only ordered a double?"

Tom smiled. "Third is on the house. Seems like you could use it.

Oh, great, my turmoil is that obvious. I need my poker face to kick in. Wincing, Ghost took a large gulp of her drink. The whiskey burned her throat and numbed some of the pain. She'd have to be careful not to get too drunk tonight, especially if Cyclone decided they'd fly tomorrow after all.

Hangman and Ghost returned to the Daggers with drinks in hand, passing them out. When they sat down, she found herself opposite Rooster. He had his glasses on, but Ghost swore she could feel the weight of his gaze, which sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Maybe the whiskey triple would come in handy after all...

Ghost listened to the other Daggers talk, sipping on her drink and chiming in if asked something. Only after she finished her drink, and Bryn and Halo ran off to get more that Coyote asked, "So, Ghost, how do you like flying with Maverick?"

The pilot beamed at the highly-decorated captain. "It's an honor. Truthfully, I'm just glad I can keep up."

"You keep me on my toes," Maverick told her, grinning. "I'd say you could give me a run for my money if we went up against each other."

"Oh, I hope that day never happens. I'll take my bets against Hangman, but not you, Mav."

"Hey, now!" Hangman protested. "Might I remind you who has confirmed air-to-air kills?"

"The museum piece for the Cold War doesn't count. I'll give you the fifth-gen fighter one, though. Besides, Rooster and Mav both have air-to-air kills as well."

"All right, if we're going off that," Payback started, motioning at Rooster and Hangman with his beer bottle, "who do you think is the better pilot?"

"Oh, no, no, I'm not getting involved in that debate," Ghost replied, shaking her head. "I know better."

"Oh, come on, you know them better than the rest of us. If anyone would know, it'd be you."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, but I wouldn't say even if I did," Ghost responded. "But if you want an answer, I think they're both a good ride."

The words slipped off her tongue before she could consider their implication. Rooster and Coyote choked on their drinks, and Hangman nearly snapped his neck in two, turning to look at her. In a desperate attempt to recover from the unintended innuendo, Ghost hastily added, "I mean in the air, idiots!"

"I know, I know, but the way you phrased it-"

"Yeah, I think that's my cue to call it quits," Ghost said, standing up and brushing the sand off her pants. "Before I stick my foot in my mouth anymore. I don't know what Tom gave me, but it had a kick. Whiskey doesn't normally get me that tipsy that fast."

"Oh, come on, Ghost, we're just messing with you," Fanboy said pleadingly. "Please stay?"

"I know, but I need to catch up on some sleep before training resumes. I'd never admit it to them, but they're giving me a run for my money. I'll catch up with y'all later, okay?"

"You need a ride home?" Rooster asked, sitting up straight. 

"Nah, I'll walk. It's not far, and it'll sober me up. Mav, I'll see you at training?"

"You can count on it."

Waving bye to everyone, Ghost shuffled to the Hard Deck with the intent to drink a small glass of water before she headed home, but Hangman calling out her name stopped her. She turned around, dreading what it could be because he didn't sound thrilled.

"What's up?" she asked casually.

Hangman's green eyes were dark, and the words that came out of his mouth were what she'd expected. "Did you and Rooster sleep together?"

Ghost involuntarily cringed. "Yes."

"Before or after we broke up?"

"After the first break up and before we got back together a second time, and-and a few months ago."

"It's been multiple times?!" 

"Yes." Ghost shifted uneasily on her feet, noticing the unspoken question in his eyes. "And for the record, it never happened when I was with you. I could never cheat on you or anyone, for that matter, and if you even think that I'd be capable of something like-"

"I don't, but I knew you liked him, and we weren't exclusive for a while, so I wondered..." Hangman dropped his gaze from hers, shifting it over to the crashing waves. "I'm not mad. Who you sleep with is up to you, and you're not obligated to tell anyone, but it still kind of hurts knowing you slept with him so soon after we broke up because he shipped out not long after I did, so it's not hard to figure out it was a quick turnaround. It's stupid for me to feel that way since we've been broken up for so long, but-"

"We loved each other, Jake. We still do. That history will always be there, and parts of it will hurt us even after all this time."

"Yeah..." He locked eyes with her again. "So, does Bryn know you and Rooster slept together?"

"I do now," Bryn said hotly. Hangman whirled around, and Ghost's heart nearly stopped. Of all ways for her friend to find out the truth... Hangman faced Ghost again, 'sorry' written all across his face.

"I- should I-"

"Go? Yes," Bryn said, glaring at Ghost. "I need to speak with Annalise privately."

Hangman turned to Ghost for confirmation this was all right, and she nodded, even though she didn't want to be alone with the fuming Kazansky. Reluctantly, he walked off, and Ghost took a deep, steadying breath, preparing for the onslaught of accusations she absolutely deserved.

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons​ @harper1666​ @shadeops21​ @double-j​ @copaceticwriter​ @rotating-obsessions​ @sharkprestige​ @thedarkinmansfield​ @lapilark​ @mickeyluvs​ @starshipfantasy​ @bennypears00​ @mandowife221b​ @the-navistar-carol​ @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth​ @carmellasworld​ @0hb0llocks​ @nicangelinee​ @summ3rlotus​ @3picklesinajar​ @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag18 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17

[naughtycurls]

sex education ࿓ inter!harry

larry fic based on all your favorite teen movies ;) a little bit of regina, jessica, and an exaggerated dose of olive. in this WIP, harry is a sex addicted teen, who can bag almost anyone - except louis tomlinson.

THIS IS NOT COMPLETE, THIS IS ONLY A SNEAK PEEK.

"No, mom! I never ever in my life spoke to a Raphael. No, I don't know why the hell some chic named Royale came down to the house — that's not my problem because I don't know them. Just tell them to shut the hell up if they ever come back!" Harry said before hanging up the phone.

He checked himself in the mirror before heading down the stairs. His father Desmond sat at the table on his laptop, most likely answering a few business emails. "Hi, Daddy." Harry greeted, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Hi, princess. Why don't you drink a cup of OJ to get you started." He suggested. Harry scrunched up his face, grabbing his baker boy hat from the hook on the wall. "Nah, I prefer a chai latte better." Desmond chuckled. "Always a diva."

Harry smiled at his father before grabbing his purse too. "I'll talk to you later, love you!"

"Make sure you don't spend too much after school! Love you, honey!"

Harry shut the door behind him and excitedly headed towards his car. Recently, after his seventeenth birthday his parents finally bought him the convertible he's been wanting since he was a kid. It was nice and a light pink color — his absolute favorite. Nothing could describe the joy he felt when his eyes landed on that car. Harry climbed into the motor, starting the engine. He dug into his bag for his phone and opened it, going to his friend's contact.

"Hi, Melissa. I'm in the convertible right now, you need a ride?"

"Of course I do."

Harry smiled. "K. Pick you up in five." He pressed on the gas, making the car speed forward, something Desmond always scolded him for.

The schoolyard was filled with students either hanging around their cars, sitting on the steps, or lying in the grass. It was always like that before school started. Harry parked into the lot, clicking off the radio. "That was my song." Melissa complained.

"Yeah, well, if you want Sarah on our asses, I suggest we get a move on." Melissa rolled her eyes playfully and opened the car door, accidentally slamming it into someone else's. "Come on now!"

"You should've parked straight, you dufus!" She shouted back. Harry giggled, patting the girl's shoulder. "Don't put a scratch on my door."

Melissa Jefferson and Harry Styles, it was a popularized name around the school. They had been best friends since preschool, ever since Melissa got on Harry for trying to eat play doh, they'd been inseparable. Harry Styles was definitely a well known name around the school, he was rich, his father was a plastic surgeon and his mother was a sexologist. But, that wasn't what he was known for, yes, people knew he was rich as hell, but what they knew him for was quite... perplexive. Harry was.. in other teenager's words (specifically male) a slut. He liked sex, he had sex, a lot of it. He was basically known for it. If you had a dick, he'd take it. If you had a vagina, he played it, there was no in between, although he did prefer cock.

It all started after finding Anne's sex book in her office a year ago and getting a little curious, which resulted in him practicing on Melissa, which turned into the neighbor's son, to their cousin, to his classmate, to the football team, to the art club, and so forth. Harry felt like he couldn't stop — of course it wasn't an addiction, he could stop any time he pleased but sex was just amazing. And Anne always encouraged him to do what he liked.

Sex was what he liked.

"You know, the other day I saw Danielle." Melissa mentioned as the two walked together. "Campbell?" Harry asked. "Mhm. And guess who she was with? Eric Sanders." Harry gasped, staring at Melissa. "My Eric?"

"Yup."

"I swear it's like she's.... she's trying to tic me off. I swear the next time I see her I'm going to slap her across her slutty ass fa–"

"Hi, Harry!" Danielle exclaimed, walking towards to the duo. Harry smiled, holding Danielle's hands. "Hey, Dani! How are you? Oh my god your scarf is gorgeous."

"Thank you so much! Your hat is adorable!" Harry laughed and they shared a hug before walking away. Harry scoffed, wiping off his jacket. "Such a cunt." Melissa nodded in agreement. "I can't believe she walks around with that stupid smile on her face after what happened."

"Exactly! And I'm going to have a talk with Eric."

"Do it. I told you not to even fuck him, he's ugly anyways." Harry shrugged. "I know a good fuck when I see it."

+++

Lunch was a common thing to worry about, you had to sit at the right table and if you were to be at the wrong... it's over. It was essential to have friends, or at least a person you've talked to before so you didn't end up sitting at a table alone feeling like everyone's eyes were on you when in actuality everyone could care less.

Harry always had someone to sit with. Erika, Sarah, Ariel, and a bunch of other girls he couldn't remember the names of. "So, I was thinking of getting this dress for Taylor's party." Melissa said as she showed Harry a dress on her phone. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, chewing on his fries. "Taylor's having a party?"

"Yeah." Melissa answered. "I never heard about that." Harry mumbled thoughtfully. "Yeah, well enough about that, is this cute?"

"Anything that clings to your body is cute, Melissa."

"It has to be a pretty color and nice fabric." She argued. Harry sighed and placed his fry down. "Okay, we can just go to my cousin's store, I'm sure he has better dresses than that." Melissa hummed, putting her phone back. "Works for me."

Harry looked through the cafeteria distractedly until his eyes landed on a boy in a jumper. He squinted to see him better, noticing that he was talking to someone. "Hey," he elbowed

Melissa. "Who's that guy?"

"What guy?" Melissa asked. "Over there." He pointed. "I don't see anyone."

"You're not even looking!" Harry said, starting to shake her when he saw that the guy was getting ready to walk away. "Oh my god, what!"

"Who is he! Red and black jumper!" Melissa's eyes bulged out her sockets when she saw who Harry was referring to. "Louis Tomlinson?!"

"That's his name? God that sounds so hot." Harry murmured, resting his chin on his hand. "No it is not! He's literally fucking gross, he just gets stoned all day and is like.. an emo."

Harry bit his lip. "That's even more hot."

"No way!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes! Do you know how hot it would be to suck him off while he's smoking. A fucking dream." Melissa shook her head at her friend, watching him pull out his lip matte. "Please don't tell me.."

"Why haven't I seen him before?" She asked, applying the lipstick. "Probably because he's a stoner." Melissa said rudely. "Quit being so judgmental." Harry scolded.

"Says you."

Harry stood from the table, pulling down his shirt. "Watch my food, will you?"

"Whatever." Harry smiled before approaching the lunch line, where Louis was stood against the wall. He made sure to add an extra swing to his hips, tucking a curl behind his ear. He saw Louis' friend's eyes widen and smirked, straightening his posture. "Hi."

Louis turned around and Harry swears his breath was knocked right out his throat. Louis was hot. His body was lean, and Harry knew he just had to be fit underneath that loose jumper he wore. His pants were baggy but his face made up for it. His jaw was sharp, and Harry could see there was a little stubble coming in. His hair looked so soft, a nice caramel color with hair pushed to the side. His eyes were blue.. and it was so electric. It felt like they were pulling him in. Harry licked his lips and gave a small wave to Louis' friend.

Louis raised an eyebrow at the shorter boy. "Hi?"

"My name is Harry." Harry introduced, stretching out his arm. Louis slowly took his hand, and Harry shivered at how rough yet soft his hands were. "Louis."

"And I'm Niall." Louis' friend piped in. Harry grinned, nodding. "Hey, blondie."

Harry rested his eyes back on Louis. "Y'know I don't think I've ever seen you before." Louis pursed his lips, nodding. "You're really attractive, has anyone ever told you that?"

"No, I don't believe so." Harry didn't hear how raspy his voice was until now, and God if you were to hear it. They hadn't even gotten anywhere and Harry was already fantasizing about what an amazing afternoon they could have. "Your hair's really beautiful." Niall said. Harry laughed, touching the ends of his curls. "I think it'd look even better with Louis' hands in it, don't you think?"

Niall gaped, looking at Louis who was almost in the same state, but more subtle. It was no use for Harry though, he already figured out the body language most men had when he made comments like that. Harry grinned slyly and tilted his head. "So?"

"You're a really nice... boy, Harry."

Harry hummed. "But, no. Sorry." Louis pushed Niall forward before walking away. Harry watched the older boy in shock — he never got rejected before. Even worse, by a 'stoner'.

Niall stared at him with a frown. "I would definitely fuck you if you ask—"

"Shut up." Harry interrupted.

"Okay." Niall whispered before following Louis. Harry got back to his table and slumped in his seat, picking at his food. "What happened?"

"He said no! Can you believe that?!" Harry asked. Melissa's mouth fell open. "No way!"

"I'm... I don't even know what to say." Harry said sadly, hiding his face in his hands. "And I really liked him! He's actually really good looking, and now he doesn't want me. How can I make him want me?"

"Harry, you never go after people. Please don't make him a first."

"There's a first for everything." Harry said. "I'm so bummed."

"Don't be. He's just a piece of shit."

"A piece of meat is what he is." Harry corrected.

[astra-galaxie]

What about HCs for Natheron and Avi? Snake-man, younger Explosion-man and their adorable son! If it's too many at once, that's OK.

Don’t worry; three isn’t too much in this scenario! And you know I love Nathan enough to give him two sets of weird headcanons!🥰

These answers are for my version of Nathan, as seen in my Criminal Case series! Now, let’s read about our snakey-boi and his family!🐍

Nathan

How’s their cooking: Nathan’s a good cook. I just hope you like spicy food! (He can make non-spicy food, he just enjoys watching Jones suffer through the heat)

It’s movie night; what movie do they pick: Horror. But if it's with his family, action or a kid’s move (if Avi is with him)

How would they hold up in a pillow war: Nathan is the last man standing in a pillow war. Avi is the only one who can defeat him (mainly because he lets his son win but don’t tell Avi that!)

Who do they go to for comfort: In order, Oberon, his Dad, his grandfather, and Jones

Something small that they enjoy: When his husband has a cup of coffee or chai ready for him in the morning

How do they feel about physical contact by others: If it's his family or friends, he doesn’t mind physical contact but still prefers to have it in moderation. If its a stranger, the best he’ll give them is a handshake or a high-five

Biggest pet peeve: People who think they know it all and act like they’re superior

What’s something they like that may be surprising to others: Drawing and painting. Most people assume he doesn’t have many hobbies besides gardening, but Nathan loves bringing his ideas to life on a canvas. He made all the artwork around his house, and he has gifted artwork to family and friends

Any bad habits that they have: Talking too much about death. Nathan has creeped out way too many people by rambling about his fascination with death and the ways people can die

Do they like being in pictures: Nathan’s camera shy, but his family and friends always drag him into the frame, so plenty of pictures of him exist

Is there anything they’re bad at: Socializing. Nathan didn’t have many friends growing up and preferred to keep to himself. He’s introverted and is nervous when meeting new people, so he usually leaves the socializing to his extroverted husband

Something that disgusts them: When someone coughs or sneezes and doesn't cover their mouth

That’s our snake-boi done; now let’s move on to his explosive, magic-loving rockstar husband, Oberon Douglas!

Oberon

What they smell like: Shea butter and oatmeal due to the moisturizer he uses for his burn scars. Also can smell like smoke if he’s recently been around an explosion

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc.): Unlike his husband, Oberon likes going to bed early and is a morning person. He sleeps on his stomach and sometimes his side because of the scars on his back and loves cuddling Nathan

What music they enjoy: Death metal, rock & roll, and Jazz

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Thirty minutes because he has to apply his scar treatment cream and moisturizer every morning

Their favourite thing to collect: Lighters

Left or right-handed: Taught himself to be ambidextrous after sustaining burns to his right hand

Religion (if any): Agnostic

Favourite sport: Football (soccer) and archery

Favourite touristy thing to do when travelling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc.): Learning about a place’s culture and getting to experience it in-person

Favourite kind of weather: Autumn, specifically October, because it is, and I quote, “spooky season”

A weird/obscure fear they have: Not a weird fear, but Oberon is afraid he won’t be able to protect the people he loves. He nearly lost his husband and son and, ever since, fears the day he won’t be able to keep them or the rest of his family and friends safe anymore

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Shooting games. This man has accuracy!

And lastly, Natheron’s baby snake Avi!

Avi

What they smell like: Vanilla and chai because his soap is vanilla scented, and Nathan’s second favourite drink is chai, so there’s a pot of it being brewed at some point during the day

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc.): Avi goes to bed early and isn’t a morning person like his father, Nathan. Avi curls up into a tight ball under his sheets and always has at least one stuffie with him to help keep away his nightmares and like listening to soft music to put him to sleep

What music they enjoy: Children’s music and anything his fathers play or sing, especially if it's Oberon

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: About 15 minutes with the help of one of his dads. If they let him do it alone, it would take 20-30 minutes

Their favourite thing to collect: Snow globes. Avi loves shaking them and watching the snowfall. He has them in many designs and themes, and his favourite ones are snow globes that also play music

Left or right-handed: Left

Religion (if any): Avi doesn’t follow any religions. His parents are waiting to let him decide when he's older if he would like to join a religion or not

Favourite sport: Football (soccer) and American football. He likes playing the first with his Dad Oberon and the second with his Uncle David Jones

Favourite touristy thing to do when travelling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc.): Collecting souvenirs/postcards and taking pictures

Favourite kind of weather: Rain. Avi loves wearing his raincoat, boots and carrying an umbrella. His favourite part about when it rains is jumping into puddles

A weird/obscure fear they have: Like Oberon, not a weird fear, but Avi is scared to lose his family and friends, especially his dads. He already went five years thinking Oberon was dead, and while he was happy when he came back, Avi is afraid to lose him again or to lose his other dad…

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Racing arcade games like Mario Kart

And thus concludes my weird headcanons for the Pandit-Douglas family!

[our-last-defense]

what you were okay with giving up, a nonexhaustive list:

1. Coffee shop and bookstore dates. Iced dirty chais, an airpod in one ear, distracting from all the noise. Your person, across the wobbly table, sneaking glances at you over the top of her book.

2. Homemade meals after a long day of work. The scent of toasting garlic bread as you walked through the door. I would time it to your "leaving now" texts. Curled up on the couch, bowl in hand, a random yt video playing to your interest of the day. Great British Bake Off episodes watched as fervently as any college football game.

3. Our desks, perpendicular; the sounds of our keyboards. Rain on the balcony outside as we curl up and play our games side by side. Glances over our shoulders at each other. Did you need another beer, love? I'm about to go to the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea.

4. Ambiance tracks playing on the tv as we read. I would doze eventually to the sound of the quiet music and the turn of your pages. You'd put my head against your shoulder until it was time to get ready for bed. The sound of my dog's soft snores. Our tiny little heater warming our feet. Safe. Warm. Home.

5. Fajitas for two and margaritas at the busy tex mex chain in our scrubs after a long work week. Talking shop. The promise of a weekend together. You'd explain the football game to me over the TV screens at the bar and I would quietly put the last tortilla on your plate.

6. Someone to listen to your weekly interest as they twirled your hair. It was growing so long and silky. You were always proud of it, even if you did hide it at work. You always told me how your ex hated how long it was. She was right, it did look better short. I just wanted you to be happy with your own reflection.

7. Someone to take a towel to your back as we exited the shower. You never did dry it yourself, and it would drive me up the wall. I'd find constellations in your freckles that littered your shoulders and back. I did it all wordlessly as you told me about the latest Stephen King book you were reading. How many books did that make towards your yearly goal? 16? 17?

8. An arm tossed over your side in the early morning light. I'd curl into your back for your warmth and kiss your shoulder blade softly. Your hand would gently reach over to hold mine as we both drifted back to sleep. I'd never leave for work unless I smoothed your hair back from your face and kissed your forehead. You'd doze for a little bit longer until it was your turn to get up for your shift.

9. A dance partner in the kitchen. A copilot in the car. A cheerleader who always pushed you to do better, be better. A fellow traveler who would have gone to the ends of the earth for and with you.

It's been 13 days since you left our place in the middle of the night after I begged you not to go.

12 days since you said you loved me.

11 since you left me on read and blocked me everywhere after I said we would be okay, we would make it through this.

My arm still reaches out towards your indentation in the mattress in my sleep. Do you think you'll ever regret giving it all up? Or was it simply collateral damage on your chase for something unsustainable?

You left all of these ghosts with me so you could run towards that greener field.

[gracebutnotgraceful]

cafe au lasso - ted lasso

pairing: ted lasso x reader

warnings: none!

word count: 1.1k

notes: is it cliche? perhaps. but i love a good coffee shop fic and i won’t apologize. 

summary: beard always wondered why ted volunteered to get them coffee everyday. he figured it out quickly the morning ted accidentally overslept. 

“Mocha for Jennifer, London fog for David, and oatmilk chai for Sarah,” you called, placing all of the drinks on the counter. A blonde woman, Sarah, thanked you and smiled as she grabbed the chai and left. You nodded at her, turning around to the register to take your next order. 

“You’re not from around here,” noted the man at the counter.

“From the sound of it, neither are you.” you laughed. “What can I get started for ya?” 

“Do you have a dark roast brewed?” he asked. You nodded. “Can I get two medium dark roasts with room for cream and sugar?”

“Sure thing. Can I get a name for those?” You replied, grabbing your pen.

“Oh, it’s—”

“Wanker!” interrupted an older man waiting in line behind him. You shifted to look at the man. “Just write wanker,”

“Excuse me, sir,” you began, ready to tell him off for being rude, but the man whose order you were taking waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s just a nickname at this point,” He said, turning around and waving at the guy before turning back to you. “The name’s Ted.” He paid for his drinks and went to wait on the other side of the bar. You blinked hard, processing whatever kind of exchange just happened in front of you. You took the other man’s order and got to making the drinks.

“Two dark roasts for Ted!” You called.

“Thank you,” he looked down to read your name tag, “Y/N. I appreciate you. Now I don’t mean for this to sound as creepy as it’s gonna, but can I ask what state you’re from? It’s always crazy meetin’ somebody over here that sounds like me. Makes me feel like I’m home for a second.” 

“Hmm, how about I give you a hint and next time you order I’ll let you know?” you replied with a small smirk. He was one of the only people who’d ever been interested in you not being English, and you kind of wanted to know where he was from, too. 

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he replied with a smile. You told him what region you were from. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think. “Well, I guess I’ll see you next time, Y/N. You have a good day.” He picked up his drinks and raised one as if to wave at you.

“You too, Ted!” you responded. 

Sure enough, he was back around the same time the next day, and the next. Talking with Ted slowly became part of your work routine. He would come in, you’d make his coffee, and you’d swap a little bit of information about each other. You learned that he was from Kansas. He was the new coach of AFC Richmond, the football league many of your customers wore gear supporting. You’d not gotten into the football hype just yet, but Ted was slowly convincing you. 

Ted had become such a steadfast part of your day at work that eventually, you started preparing his drinks around the time you knew he’d be coming in. One day, however, Ted never showed. You’d had the cups labeled and ready, set aside so all you had to do was pour the coffee and hand them off, waiting to see him come in with his little wave as usual. About ten minutes after he typically arrived, a guy wearing an AFC Richmond hat came in and ordered the exact same thing Ted always did. He gave the name Beard, someone you knew only through Ted’s stories to be the assistant coach that came to England with him from Kansas. You filled the cups and handed them off, wondering why Ted hadn’t come in himself. 

The rest of the day felt weird. It felt like you were constantly having rushes of customers. Your coworkers were moody. You kept running out of things you needed for drinks. It was like not seeing Ted threw off your entire day. When you finally got off work, you were exhausted. The last thing you wanted to do was go home and have to cook. Instead, you decided to head to the local pub for some comfort food. 

The bells on the door chimed pleasantly as you walked through the doors and into the warmth of the pub. 

“Y/N! It’s been a while, how are you?” the owner called from behind the bar.

“Hi Mae! I’m well, how are you?” you responded, smiling as you walked up to the counter. 

“As good as can be, I suppose. I assume you want your usual?” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at you. You nodded, appreciating the comfort that you felt in knowing that Mae remembered you well enough to know what you were going to order. “Alright, I’ll bring it out soon.” 

“Excuse me, miss,” someone tapped on your shoulder. You turned around and found yourself face to face with the man who’d been on your mind all day: Ted Lasso. “is it too late to order a coffee?” 

“Hm, I’ve clocked out, but Mae might be able to make something work.” You laughed. “I was waiting for you this morning!”

“Aw shucks, you waited for little old me?” You nodded. “I’m sorry, I overslept this morning. This one”—he pointed to Beard behind him—“had to get our coffee so I could make it to the pitch in time. Speaking of, Y/N, this is Beard. Beard, Y/N.” You shook Beard’s hand, exchanging pleasantries. 

“Alright, dearie, here you go,” Mae came up with your food and drink. You thanked her before turning back to Ted and Beard. 

“Well, we were about to head out, but I’m looking forward to seeing you in the morning. I’ll try to actually be there this time,” Ted joked, bidding you goodnight. 

“You better! Have a good night!” You smiled. 

-

“So,” Beard began as he and Ted walked back to their flats, “I’m guessing that’s why you suddenly volunteered to get the coffee every day?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ted replied, looking at Beard with feigned confusion. 

“You think I didn’t catch on when both our cups said ‘Ted’ even though I ordered them today? A little cafe au Lasso?” he smirked, moving his eyebrows teasingly. 

“Oh, you better hush,” Ted replied, shoving Beard away as he turned to unlock his door, a smile gracing his face as he thought about how you said you waited for him. He hadn’t noticed that you’d written his name on the cup, but something about that made him feel giddy.

[radiantroope]

the end of the chiefs game was so ugly.

Mahomes throwing that last interception might’ve lost me this week in fantasy. 😓✊🏼