#flow meetup

[gender-euphowrya]

eeeee

[kenyatta]

Over a decade ago, back when Kevin, Molly, and I started EA1, I used to give a talk at entertainment and media conferences that explained the new world of online fandoms to producers, marketers, and executives.

It had a bit of science, a lot of fan work, and bunch of storytelling to explain the social psychology and peer-oriented technologies that enabled people to connect to each another around the things that they loved.

The crowd was really into it -- especially the bits about what fans were doing on the site called Tumblr "without an 'e'".

But then I'd almost always lose them with the last slide. Here's my v/o from my presenter notes:

…But in the same way that you can organize and motivate peer-based fandoms around Love, you can just as easily create networks of hate. In fact, I think we’re going to see new forms of hatred, fascism, and genocide that many in this room have never seen before. They will be peer-to-peer which means there will be no center to attack or defend. They will align themselves not based on common orders but a shared bond of identity. And they will express themselves in ways that menace but hide behind veils of irony or irreverence. Back when I worked on memes, I realized that they weren’t just funny cat pictures. They were proxies for understanding how ideas flowed through networks. I’m working in marketing now because I see fandoms the same way. They give us a glimpse at how we might organize ourselves when we become mostly digital and lose our geography.  My hope is to prepare fans for that possible future, by giving them the expectation of agency in the things that they love, teaching them ways of organizing and expressing themselves through digital tools, and presenting the possibility that the skills that they build through their fandom might help empower them to shape the world to come. This thing you all do that looks like marketing could be a trojan horse. A sermon in a sugar pill that prepares people for the world to come.

I don't know if this was the way other 'official' tumblrs operated but this was always the point behind the gif tutorials, premiere watch parties, and 30 day memes on Orphan Black and Doctor Who (and maybe a bit for Killing Eve). If we taught you Photoshop, you knew how to make a flyer or a protest sign. If you got a guide on how to host a watch party, you could host a meetup. And if you had to work with others to do a 30 day meme, you knew what it meant to cooperate and check in on one another towards a common goal. 

These were designs for participation. The goal was never for anyone to recognize why we were doing it (it looks like 'marketing' to me) but to give people a model and some mechanics for taking action in the world.

This was in 2013. By 2015, I stopped getting invited to do this talk. One person who saw it really got it and, b/c she was well connected, she invited me to give the talk to some folks in leadership at a national political campaign. Their response at the end was "thanks, but we've got this". (They didn’t have it.)

It can feel like there is a lot to do to respond to the right now (which is part of the point, btw), but you can also do things -- quiet things, strategic things, driven by values -- that help lay bricks for a foundation.

[notpixl]

Realizing they’re in love with you! HSR Edition

(Ft. Robin, Acheron, Blackswan, Feixiao)

Y’all this came up to me while in class the voices told me to write this okay or else they’ll delete my accounts 🥲

Also, Beauty amidst Death will have an update. I’m just cringing at the fact that I decided leave it in strange place and am wondering how to continue it…

GN!Reader as usual. I want all sides to be happy

—————

———

—————

Robin

It’s… weird?

Well, she does get the usual fans declaring their love to her and all but somehow you’re different??? Like what-

Nowadays, whenever you two hug she’s always a blushing mess! And how come she just noticed that you’re… really, really close…

Too close…

There’s like this feeling on her stomach whenever you two are together. It doesn’t matter if it’s a call, a meetup, or just hanging out! It… It’s always there!

And whenever your name is mentioned her ears perk up! Like… what did do you to her?!

Eventually she’ll consult about these feelings with Sunday but he just chuckles it off, leaving her to guess what it is. (At least give her a hint!)

Though the answer would come knocking at her door

It was a simple gift

From you

There’s a little note etched into the cover

“For someone that means so much to me :)”

Opening it revealed a pretty little necklace

With a Dove as its Pendant

…come to think of it don’t they represent something?

She’s sure it was something about…

Peace…

Freedom…

And Love!

Wait…

Love…?

Oh

Oh

She slowly covers her face in embarrassment

Why… did it take her so long to figure this out?!

Aeons, she’s so dumb!

“All this time I was in love with them…”

Acheron

She’s met many people

Countless if you will

But why…?

Why is it that in this ever current flow of forgetting and remembering…

She just can’t seem to forget your lovely face?

She’ll rush to the libraries, read the news, heck, even threaten ask the greatest philosophers on what this feeling means!

Perhaps that Memokeeper knows something…?

Oh forget it!

She’ll tackle this head-on!

…by asking you herself.

“Ah… so that’s it is… Love.”

Black Swan

Hmm… what a quaint feeling she’s having when you’re around

Love, isn’t it?

She’s only seen and heard about it… but not once has she ever had the chance to have a feel…

…would you reciprocate these feeling as well?

Although that possibility comes in mind…

She’d rather hear it from you than face the harsh reality of rejection

Then again…

Would her as a whole be enough?

She’s never considered using her body to charm someone, let alone the person she has come to love…

Perhaps…

Perhaps you will

“The possibilities are endless… but I’ll never stop it from blooming.”

Feixiao

She’s rather perplexed

Wait- no… yeah no that actually works-

All it takes was one glance during her walk and now she’s stumbling on her way to work with this… strange feeling

There’s no point in running away, she already has Moze tracking you down

She’d talk to Jiaoqiu about this, only receiving a shrug and scraps of determination to “find it out herself.”

Cheeky Foxian…

Hmm…

Maybe she should ask from the source itself?

———

You lay in bed, already done with today’s schedule when you notice a shift in weight on your waist

Your eyes hesitate to open

“That’s not a good way to greet guests, isn’t it?”

Moving won’t help

“Look at me.”

You’re met with such a pair of eyes you can’t even begin to describe them

Scary? Beautiful? I think that shouldn’t be your main concern right now-

“I’ve got a question…”

Her grip tightens on your shoulders

“What did you do to me?”

—————

———

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Um… no comment down here

I hope you enjoyed/hated it

Asks are always open I guess if you want to force me to write and die and sob and and and a sn

[cheralith]

hello challengers au but it’s polyamorous ryusae and your sae’s lowk toxic but gorgeous wife/soccer coach that had a thing with shidou back in the day but ended up leaving him for sae because he had more potential, was more accessible, was more crowd-favored. you live your shattered dream through him, despite him being evidently fatigued from soccer.

now shidou’s back in your life, adamant on trying to corrupt you and to cause a cheating scandal to ruin you and your husband’s well-built career. he slowly picks at you—asking you to dinner (he asks the waiter for a table by the window), driving you home (he removes the tint on the windows), inviting you to his games (he tells the camera to pan on you to make sure the crowd knows you’re within the vicinity)

… and it all comes crashing down on a singular rainy night where shidou just so happens to “return” an earring of yours you dropped in his car. it wasn't your fault that the rain made him look ten times more alluring than usual—white wet t-shirt outlining his figure, his hair down and framing his face? it was basically a given.

don't think your his only target either—he has his sight on sae, as well. he instills the same plan to him, disguising the secret meetups and hook-ups as just "buds catching up." purposely doesn't wear a mask and lets his flashy hair flow despite sae going out all the way to hide his appearance next to him. the paparazzi gets curious; who's this new friend shidou ryusei has been hanging out with that walks with a slight limp?

little does he know, you've been pulling the strings the entire time.

you weren't stupid. you and your husband went to a prestigious university after all, you're more than aware of what shidou is attempting. you knew from day one, when he’d ask you odd questions about sae and how you guys were doing.

so naturally, you decide to break him first.

you tell sae about where shidou is planning to take you next, so he can anonymously tip the paparazzi about his whereabouts. sae catches you on what shidou has been hinting to him about you, him whispering in the prodigy's ear that he deserves better than this shaky marriage, so you and him can plot out weak points for shidou to hit.

"she seems to be more in love with soccer than i am."

"he doesn't really want to acknowledge his true potential."

if anything, you have shidou to thank. you were on the fence about divorcing sae after his team loses the chance to play for the world cup, but you think this entire thing has brought you and him closer than ever before... in a twisted, sadistic sense.

and as shidou grows excited, more apprehensive about publicizing this affair to shatter you and sae, you and your husband wait by the sidelines. you and him are patiently looking at the clock, hand in hand, and waiting for shidou to arrive at the bistro you told shidou to meet you at, the paparazzi hiding in the bushes away from view, their cameras at the ready.

[lelengerine]

pairing. jeno x reader

synopsis. based on this req!

genre. not so confession au, just jeno getting his world shaken hehe, reader uses she/her prns and is implied to be female, reader is DENSE and im putting that lightly... lmk if anything was missed :D

wc. 1.4k

notes. anonie i support u fully because THIS IS SOOO HIM >< highly recommend listening to crazier by le sserafim for this one! sorry it took a while TT i was trying to see if my tags would fix but sadly that isnt the case... likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

you’ve always been jeno’s constant, his best friend, the person he shares his dumbest jokes with, the person who never fails to laugh when he falls out of the race track at mario kart, the person who knows when to cheer him up without him needing to say much. there was always an ease between you that others would envy, the kind of closeness that lets you steal fries off his plate without thinking twice or crash on his couch for hours without either of you caring. 

that’s just how your friendship was.

at least, he needs to keep reminding himself that was how it was between you two because his thoughts were beginning to steer in the opposite direction. lately he had become hyper aware of your presence, noticing the way the bridge of your nose would crinkle ever so slightly when you smile, how you completely disregard his personal space to sit beside him closely, and even your reliance on him when you can’t seem to twist the lid of a particularly stubborn jar off. it was always the subtlest of things that lingered in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. 

though, it seems like his friends were more than aware of the answer he was searching for from the way they were teasing him during one of your spontaneous meetups in his dorm.

you and jeno sat side by side on the couch, surrounded by the familiar chaos of his friends. chenle and jisung, as usual, had been locked in a heated game for the past hour, their playful bickering filling the room. across from you, renjun and jaemin watch the scene unfold in their usual, quiet way, content to simply observe. you’re half-tuned into whatever conversation was floating in the air, mindlessly scrolling through your phone—with the occasional nudge to jeno’s shoulder, sharing a meme or video that made you snort on the inside, the casual, easy comfort between you both flowing naturally amidst the background noise.

haechan who was lounging lazily on the opposite end of the couch, passes jeno a look—a sly, knowing smirk that immediately puts the latter on edge. there’s always a hint of mischief behind haechan’s smile, but for some reason, it felt even more suspicious today.

“so,” haechan begins, stretching the word out, eyes never leaving jeno. he leans forward slightly, as if settling in for something big. “what’s been up with you lately, man?”

jeno raises an eyebrow, confused but wary. “what are you talking about?”

“oh, you know…” haechan waves a hand in the air, his smirk widening into something too smug for comfort. “you’ve just been acting a little… different.”

“different how?” you chime in with sudden interest. “did he start doing something weird?”

“not weird, just... off.” jaemin continues the bait haechan’s laid out, the innocent smile plastered on his lips testing jeno’s patience to not go over and close his mouth shut before it starts spewing nonsense.

“off?” jisung perks up from the floor, focus starting to shift away from the large screen in the room. “what do you mean by off?”

“oh, he’s definitely been weird for weeks now,” chenle adds, jumping into the conversation with a grin, catching onto his friends’ intentions fairly quicker than others.

jeno shifts uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t forget to shoot chenle a glare after joining the rest and their sudden urge for mischief. “i’m not weird. you guys are just being paranoid.”

“nah, you’ve definitely been jittery. more than usual.”

“yeah, i noticed it too.”

“jittery?” you ask, your confusion deepening, causing your forehead to form subtle creases. “why would he be jittery?”

before jeno can respond, chenle cheekily cuts in after pretending to ponder on his thoughts. “i don’t know, maybe something’s been distracting him.”

haechan snorts, clearly enjoying the whole spectacle a bit too much. “yeah, pretty distracted, don’t you think?”

you frown, gaze drifting towards your best friend. “is he losing sleep over video games again?”

chenle bursts into laughter, occasionally hitting jisung by the shoulder. “oh yeah, totally video games,” he teases, the sarcasm thick in his voice for anyone to pick up on. “he’s definitely been staying up all night thinking about those.”

"shut up," jeno mumbles, his ears burning as the heat creeps up his neck, trying to fend off the rising embarrassment. with every pair of eyes in the room glued to him, the pointed stares and teasing smirks are becoming impossible to ignore.

"this is so weird," you mumble, glancing between the boys. the playful tension crackles in the air, but you're completely clueless, unable to grasp what was so funny or why they were all being so persistent today.

mark, who’s been quietly observing from the kitchen, finally steps in after the conversation piques his interest. “maybe it’s a girl,” he waves the gentle suggestion in the air, and despite his tone being casual, you easily could tell he was just as in on it as the rest were.

the room falls into a brief, stunned silence. the first of the night.

you choke on your own breath, turning sharply to jeno, feeling a bit betrayed that he’d kept this from you. “jen, you have a crush and didn’t tell me anything?”

jeno’s brain goes into overdrive, panic flooding his chest from the thought of you getting the wrong idea. “no! what are you even talking about?” he sputters, flustered beyond belief. 

as if there weren’t already enough misunderstandings, haechan dramatically nods, paying no heed to jeno’s frantic denial. “oh right, he’s been losing sleep over someone. the poor guy’s probably been agonizing over it.”

jeno’s pulse races, the teasing voices of his friends blending into a chaotic blur. he couldn’t explain it, not when he doesn’t fully understand it himself, but his mind immediately thinks of you. the way his stomach twists when you’re around, how his heart picks up pace whenever you smile—that jittery feeling jaemin mentioned... it’s all starting to make sense in the worst possible way.

there’s a moment, as the others keep prodding and nudging at him, where it clicks. he’s always been comfortable around you, always enjoyed your company, but now—with their teasing pushing his thoughts into overdrive—it feels different. the way his heart seems to lurch every time your shoulder brushes his, how your laugh makes his chest bubble with a ticklish feeling he can’t explain, the way his thoughts keep drifting back to you even when you’re not around.

do i… like her?

the realization hits him like a freight train, and suddenly, all the pieces that were once scrambled come together one by one. the teasing, the jokes, the way he’s been acting lately—it all connects into one perfectly clear line. he’s fallen, and he didn’t even realize it, and now, with every single person in the room staring at him, he feels like the biggest idiot on the planet for not seeing it sooner.

“i don’t…” jeno starts, his voice low, struggling to find the right words as they stick to his throat. his gaze flickers to you, sitting there still utterly confused by the entire conversation.

“oh my god, jeno’s speechless,” jisung deadpans, eyes wide in slight surprise. “this might be the first time in history.”

“must be serious,” haechan chimes in and from what you could tell, there’s no ounce of worry in his tone. instead, the boy is grinning widely, like a cat who’s caught the canary.

jeno can’t find it in himself to respond, the load of the realization still sinking in, heavy and overwhelming. even jaemin, who’s usually more subtle, can’t help but throw in a quick, “just admit it, jeno. we all know.”

you huff, still frustrated and completely lost. “am i seriously the only one not getting what’s going on here?”

“sadly, yes.” haechan confirms with a muffled snicker from his end, leaning back into the couch, enjoying this far too much.

jeno glances at you again, feeling his chest tighten. his head is spinning, his thoughts racing. you’re oblivious to all the teasing, still in the dark about what’s really happening, and maybe that’s for the best. maybe it’s easier if you don’t know—at least, not yet.

“i… i need to get some air,” jeno announces abruptly, standing up from the couch and bolting for the door before anyone can stop him.

“...should we go after him?” you propose, biting your lip out of nervousness, not having seen jeno act this way in all the years the two of you had known each other.

“just let him be for now.” chenle pats your shoulder out of genuine consolation, “he’ll find his way back to you.”

[fixyourwritinghabits]

FINISHED MY MANUSCRIPT AND YEETED IT AT MY LIT AGENT time to get some slee - oh shit NaNoWriMo is here.

Erm.

Right, so if you're like me and you have the opening line of your NaNo project and a vague idea, I'd still like to encourage you to take part in NaNoWriMo. A large number of responses I get at this time are people who drop out in the first week. You have a whole month! If you need some nudging to stay in the game, please consider:

Any writing done by the end of the month is more writing than you had before. The biggest benefit of NaNoWriMo is having accomplished something, be it 50000 words or a couple of chapters. Using NaNo as a tool to carve out writing time can be really useful, and it's worth giving a try if you've had trouble figuring out how to get things done.

You don't have to write a book. You don't even have to work on the same project every day! Whatever needs writing - those fanfic drabbles, that personal essay you really want to publish, those three ideas you can't pick between - can be written during NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo is a great way to connect with other writers, both local and online. Listen, it's hard to find other writers. My current group is spread across the world and we have trouble pinning down Discord meetups. Sometimes finding an in-person group can really help, but how to do that is hard. NaNoWriMo can be a chance to find people you vibe with - or don't vibe with, but can sit next to for an hour to write in silence. Anything helps.

No writing is bad writing. Even if you never look at it again, sitting down to write is like working out. You are practicing and improving your skills, even if you don't realize it. The only way to get better is to keep doing it.

You don't have to win. You don't have to write every day. You can even lower your goals to 300 words a day and still being doing NaNo, because you're putting in the work.

You can jump back into NaNoWriMo at any time. Have a bad day? A bad week? A final exam you must spend all your time and energy on? Don't give up on Day 3, Day 15, or Day 25. Every day of the month can be a new opportunity to write, no matter how many setbacks you have.

If you've never done NaNoWriMo before, give it a try! If you've tried it before and pounding out a novel in a month doesn't work for you, make NaNoWriMo your own thing. A paragraph a day, a drabble a week - whatever keeps your words flowing, this is the perfect month to set goals and try things out to figure out your writing styles.

Good luck!

[splishfish]

Audio Fun (NSFW)

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Tags: M. Masturbation, Tomura being a gross pervert, idk what else lol

WC: 1.1K

God he missed you so much.

Audio Fun Deleted Scene

It was late. Nearly 3 am.

Tomura laid in bed, his face illuminated only slightly by the dim light of his phone. His hand gripped onto the phone tightly, red eyes staring at the voice recording he had gotten earlier that day.

He reached over towards the floor, grabbing a pair of earbuds that were lazily strewn across the floor. His heart thumped in his chest, hands growing sweaty as debauched and lewd thoughts raced through his mind, his earbuds connecting to his phone as he placed them into his ears.

You had been gone for a few days, visiting your family for the holidays. Earlier that day, you had called him, updating him on all the fun things you and your family were doing. He won’t lie, he was pissed off.

He didn’t understand why you had to go visit your family when you had him now. He could give you anything you wanted, hell, he’d even participate in those stupid holiday festivities you loved so much.

But he couldn’t let his mind wander off. After all, he was so painfully hard, and those unfulfilling thoughts would only put a ruin his mood. A harrowing smile formed on his face as he pressed play on the 30 minute voice recording, your voice flowing into his ears.

Maybe if he had even the slightest semblance of shame, he would feel more embarrassed about using your voice to get off, but you had been gone for so long, could you really blame him for wanting to ease that awful ache in his pants?

”Hey baby! How have you been?”

Your sweet voice was intoxicating to him. You were so eager to talk to him, and that little pet name you had called him made his cock twitch.

He reached down, sliding his hand under his pants to release his cock, just barely raising his hips to lower his pants just far down enough to free his hefty balls and his weeping cock.

”Things have been good here! I haven’t seen my family in so long, it’s nice to catch up!”

A small groan left his lips, his hand finally pumping his twitching cock and squeezing pearly beads of pre out of his slit. The debauched smile on his face grew, a small stinging in his cracked lips as his mind was filled with vile thoughts. He wondered what you would think of him, masturbating to the sound of your voice while you’re happily talking about your little family meetup.

”I miss you so much! I’ll be home in a few days okay?”

He let out a sigh, his thumb running over his leaking slit. Fuck. He missed you so much. He missed the feeling of your tight hole wrapping around his cock. He missed your pretty whines and moans. He missed the way you would cry and beg for his cock.

His hips bucked up slightly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he groaned. God he missed you.

”How have things been going over there? Have you been eating?”

If he wasn’t so busy jerking himself off, he would have rolled his eyes at your words. He couldn’t understand why you were so worried about useless things. It was stupid, really, the way you concerned yourself over him, the way you sounded so caring and selfless. 

It made both his heart flutter and his balls tighten.

”But…as much as I love being here, I miss you. I can’t wait to come back home.” Home.

A low groan left his mouth, his hand tightening around the base of his cock.

 “Fuck…”

God he missed you so much. He missed your tender touches. He missed your scent, your body, your voice. He missed you.

His hand moved faster under the blanket, a muffled ’shlck shlck shlck’ could be heard, even through his earbuds.

”To be honest I- Hey! Are you even listening?!”

He chuckled breathlessly at your whiny tone, and all he could imagine was the way your lips were probably curled into a cute pout…so kissable, so pretty and soft. Ah…he missed the way your lips wrapped around his cock, glossy with pre-cum and spit as he fucked your face just the way you liked it.

His hand reached up, pulling back the foreskin from his tip to roughly thumb his aching slit. He hissed at the feeling, wishing it was your tongue that curled around his cock.

”Tomura? Tomura! Hey! Don’t ignore me!” He barely registered the whine that escaped him, too distracted by the way you called out his name. So desperate for his attention, so needy and wanting. Fuck, he wanted you so bad. He wanted to fuck you until the only thing you could scream was his name, slobbering like a bitch in heat as you desperately fucked yourself on his cock.

His hand began to twist against his length, pumping himself furiously as he finally started to feel that burning heat in his stomach. He was so close. So so close.

”Hey…y’know I uh…I was thinking…when I get home…we could spend some…time catching up…if you know what I mean…” Oh god. Fuuck…

He ripped the blanket off his searing hot body, placing the phone on the pillow next to him as he brought his now free hand to his testicles. He rolled them against his palm, squeezing them as he bucked his hips desperately into his hand, thoughts of your return filling his mind.

He was going to fucking ruin you. He was going to fuck you until he stuffed you full of his cum, over and over and over-!

”I’ve felt so empty without you Tomu…I miss your cock so much…Wanna stuff myself with your cock...”

It was almost painful how violently he was fisting himself, his calloused hands slick with his arousal as he desperately chased his high. Low moans and curses left his lips in strings of pleasure, his eyes rolling back as he felt the heat in his stomach begin to snap.

“Fuck fuck fuck-!”

He was gonna cum. He was gonna cum while fisting himself to the sound of your voice. Oh fuck he was gonna cum and you were completely oblivious! You were probably sleeping in bed, snoring away while he fantasized about fucking you in all sorts of ways when you came home-!

”Would you like that Tomu?”

Yes! God yes! He wanted to fuck you so bad!

He was right there- Fuck oh god he can feel his balls tighten with need, sweat dripping down from his forehead as he moved his arm in a burning workout. Fuck, he’s cummi-!

”Audio Disconnected” His eyes snapped open as the robotic voice of his earbuds echoed in his ears, the sudden burning heat in his stomach snapping as he cursed in anger, semen limply spurting onto his stomach and chest in a weak stream.

“Oh you FUCKING-!”

Maybe he should charge his earbuds before using them next time.

Did you enjoy this? Check out my Masterlist for more!

Hello!! This idea came from @arakn0 on their twitter! Pls go check them out on all their socials, theyre so cool and awesome! TY Arakno for letting me use this idea <3

[akirchi]

LIGHTING A CANDLE!

“i hate all of you, and nothing can change that.”

— characters: akira kurusu / ren amamiya, akechi goro

— pairing: akira x gn! reader, akechi x gn! reader (can be seen as romantic or platonic) , akechi x akira

— content warning: swearing , mention of decapitated heads , murdering cognitive , flirting , depression , r! is a wildcard , r’s! phantom thirf get up isnt explicitly described, rather long.

it was like last time but this time you turned out… different? it was like someone lighting you up with a lighter— like lighting a candle but you were the wax this time, not the lighter, melting every time someone relighted it.

you were burning out, and you were not getting better. since when was the last time you actually felt like you accomplished something?

the last time you made someone proud? the last time someone appreciated you or the hard work you do?

when was the last time you were so happy? felt like you were unstoppable? felt like you were worthy of being in their presence?

why were you a wildcard? there was nothing special about you unlike them. they were special, why’d you think you were special like them?

they can accomplish more then you can. grabbed their diplomas and left you in the dust, with what? they didn’t bother texting you? calling you? when was the last they cared about you?

all of your friends succeed in your dream and you stuck here, being a useless, scum bag, author. you were a famous writer now sure, but why’d you think it was like to ann’s modeling job? yusuke’s art? akechi and akira’s detective work?

you were slowly running out of will, and the fire is almost burned out…

“god, are you stupid, [name]?” you groaned while dragging a hand down your face, your black sweater getting scrunched up as you shoved your hands back into your pockets to look at a familiar place.

leblanc. the place your friend group solely promised to meet up every time they had a break, like right now on this entire break. you swallowed a bundle of saliva and forcing yourself to walk to the door.

shaky hands taking the door knob and opening it, the bell ringing and the place going silent to look at whoever opened the door before it erupted to loudness.

“[name]! omg, it’s been so long since i saw you!” ann greeted first with a hug, as you stood there awkwardly and patting her back. her separating, letting her take in your appearance.

“woah! [name], you look a lot skinner and paler!” ryuji said, almost sounding like a insult to anyone who was outside the friend group.

it was obvious that you were gonna make a snarky reply but it shocked everyone when you didn’t but mumble a uh-huh and went to sit yourself beside makoto, going onto your phone.

everyone thought you were just in a sour mood since your two bestfriends weren’t here yet, so they went back to conversing with eachother.

it was so insufferable to be here. the noise felt like someone was drilling into your head, the way they didn’t bother checking up on you. ignoring you like you were just a crumb on a table.

that was until the bell rang again, there stood in all their glory; akechi and akira, the former phantom thieves went up to the two, one gritting their teeth and clutching their fist, sneaking out quickly when everyone was distracted.

the person disappearing all of a sudden didn’t go unnoticed to the two, you were the first person they laid eyes on and the first person they wanted to see on this meetup.

you declined any other meetup, you stopped responding with a decent flow, you just… disappeared off the gc. you never opened it until a few months ago, and that was when this meetup was planned.

the two of them missed you dearly. you were the one who kept them in shape whenever it was just the three of you exploring mementos despite it being such dangerous for a low number of people but hey, you three weren’t the strongest for no reason.

no one knew what you were going through, you didn’t blame them— i mean, you never told anyone about your problems. how were they supposed to know? this was entirely your fault, and you take full responsibility.

“so, you think [name]… has a palace?” a hangout that was supposed to be fun had turned a drastic one. the air was tense and no one dared to cut it. they should’ve noticed it sooner, you walked in acting differently and then disappeared.

“it’s most likely. the odds are there but we’re not really sure. something’s clearly bothering them and it’s formed into a bigger problem.“ akechi placed a hand underneath his chin, clearly hiding behind a mask to cover up the fact that he’s worried and would rather deal with this problem himself.

“either way, have you found out their code words?” futaba pointed out, standing up from the booth. akira and akechi looked at each other for second and nodded, as akira pulled out his phone.

[name] [lastname]

prison

shibuya

the room flickered a bit, sudden memories of their early phantom thieves activities rushing through their head. they truly did miss the thrill of running through palaces, yet they didn’t expect one to be their fellow teammate.

ann sighed, looking down at her lap guilty, “to think they’d have a palace.” yusuke hummed in response, “they think shibuya is a prison for them?” akira pulled his lips into a straight line.

he had remembered how you wanted out of shibuya, to travel the world without any shackles. it’s sorta ironic that you’d think shibuya was like a prison for you, he could almost give a pity laugh.

“enough chit-chatting. let’s go find their treasure.” makoto stood up, saying those words sternly with everyone on board with her words. akechi sighed and pushing himself off the counter, sending the leader of the phantom thieves a look before they were sent off into your palace.

joker looked down, seeing himself and everyone else in their costumes which… confused him. you saw them as threats? you? someone who had always cherished the rest and never crossed them? he guesses things might’ve changed these past years.

as they descended into the palace, cognitive versions of the others had emerged, each one posing as boss and one of the seven deadly sins. what confused him more was that him and crow were nowhere to be seen when they had reached your treasure.

“that was…”

“short yet lonesome?”

“short and annoying, but yeah. that works too.” ryuji replied to futaba, “so, what now? send a calling card and steal the treasure—“ “no. this was far too easy. the last palaces we’ve encountered, we’ve all met the cognitive versions of the holders, we’ve seen none of them.” akechi cut ryuji off, a rather strict and suspicious tone in his words.

makoto agreed with him, adding onto his statement, “haven’t you noticed? all the troublesome shadows we’ve fought have been us, but we haven’t seen joker’s and crow’s yet. which means…”

the sound of hands clapping had echoed through the room, “i applaud you for catching on so fast.” your disoriented voice made everyone snap their head towards shadow you.

your eyes once so bright had looked so dull. shadow you were dressed in your phantom thieves getup (mask off), it almost fooled everyone if it weren’t for your voice and how dull everything about you looked.

with the snap of your fingers, your treasure was gone and multiple prison guards had appeared and pointed their guns at them. akira narrowed his eyes at you, seeing how your eyes were pinned onto the two of them, a look of absolute disdain in your eyes.

“don’t tell me you don’t know?” akechi scoffed at your words, not threatened by the multiple guns pointed at them, “indulge us with your story then.” your eyes snapped towards him, the barrels of the guns now aimed at his head earning multiple gasps.

“i’m gonna be honest with you guys,” your back was faced towards them, not even sparing them a glance when those words were spat out, “i hate all of you, and there’s nothing that can change that.”

with that you disappeared. your words staining something in all of their hearts. was this how you truly felt about them? did you actually enjoy them? where did everything go wrong?

your words dug a deeper pain in the two boys hearts. the one who kept them from fighting each other, hated them..? they didn’t wanna believe it but it came from you, even though it was the shadow version of you, it was still you.

“joker, crow! watch out!” oracle’s voice yelled out, two unknown figures came out, one going for joker first as two daggers clashed.

standing infront of him was the other version of himself, face completely voided of… well, a face. joker looked towards crow, seeing him in the same predicament before joker clicked his tongue and kicked the cognitive version of himself back.

“we gotta get out of here!” morgana shouted out through the chaos, turning into a van with everybody rushing in and pushing past multiple obstacles to get back to the entrance.

akira leaned back against the seat of the booth, panting heavily with a hand clutching onto his shirt. everyone seemed exhausted, mainly because this was the first time they did a palace run within one day.

“so, [name] does truly hate us.” haru muttered underneath her breath, face drooping in sadness as the words sunk in properly. “h-hey.. we don’t actually believe that, right? there’s no way they actually hate us.” ryuji’s commented, voice wavering and trying so hard to cling onto past memories for hope.

“i’m… afraid they do hate us. cognitive versions of different people are usually how they really are and how they truly feel, so… yes, [name] does hate us.” makoto answered, voice filled with disbelief.

akechi stood up abruptly and left, akira following after closely.

“those two are gonna take the news harder. after all, the three of them were so closely knitted, it’s hard to imagine that [name]’s hated them for so long.” morgana mumbled, his body curling up into himself.

“[name].” the stern voice of akira broke you out of your shock. you looked up at the two people you hated with all of your heart with a raised eyebrow, “what?” the lack of kindness in your voice shoved a knife into their hearts.

akira didn’t hesitate and pulled you into a hug, feeling your body tense, your arms on the side of your body. you gritted your teeth, fists clutching— fuck this. fuck him. fuck akechi. thinking they can do this all of a sudden without checking up on you throughout the months you were lonely.

“get off me.” akira’s grip on your tightened, his face burying itself onto the top of your head, “akira, i said get off me.” akechi’s hand placed itself on top of akira’s shoulder, a stern look on his face.

he finally let you go, seeing how you put a distance between the three of you, “nice seeing you two i guess.” you muttered through your disdain before walking away fast.

“let’s go. i did my part.” akechi chuckled lightly, “ever the trickster, huh?” akira’s lips pulled into a light smirk, “that was purely rhetorical, don’t take it seriously.” way to kill the mood.

everyone stood infront of the treasure, seeing it being a photo of everyone together before they all went their separate ways. seeing how they used to be so young and so close brought memories back, how everyone had became a close knitted friend group until graduation.

“you had the audacity to hug me and send a calling card, but didn’t bother to even send a ‘hi’? don’t worry i don’t hate you guys for that. i have much different reasons.” your disoriented voice echoed through the now different scenery outside on-top of your palace.

low-and-behold, you, with joker and crow’s heads reserved in a cylindrical tanks filled with water. the sight made the two boys stomachs churn at the gruesome sight of ‘themselves’.

shadow you could tell how it got the others uncomfortable, it brought a smile onto your face. “don’t think so deep into it. i just helped you with your problem.”

“we didn’t need your help.” those words had made you drop the smile rather fast, “i don’t need your help either.” you scoffed, hatred absolutely fuelling your body.

“i don’t need your help. i never needed it! i didn’t need it back then! i don’t need it now—“ your hands went up to tug at your hair, everything around you becoming a blur. the sight of you going into a frenzy state made joker take a step forward.

“no! stay away. i hate you. i’ve always hated you! i hated you all. i hated how all of you just left me alone! don’t try and force yourself back into my life.” your voice went down an octave, you snapped your fingers, a deformed version of your persona stood in front of you, defending you from any harm.

“try and keep up now—“ you were cut off by a bullet going through you. your hands went up to the wound, your body swaying back and forth as you jumped down from on top of the cylindrical tank, gun still held up and pointed towards the shadow version of yourself.

“if you kill me… you die too.” your own words made you frown, arm returning back to your side as you turned your back on everyone, “do me a favour and let go.” you looked back at yourself, walking close to the ledge and jumping off, disappearing from the place.

“i… i’m sorry. it was my fault. i never reached out and i never told anyone how i truly felt. i’m so sorry.” you apologized through a shaky tone, shadow you fading away and leaving the group photo on the ground.

“it couldn’t be this easy.” haru commented, looking at makoto worryingly, “still. we got it easy, let’s head out now.” morgana ordered as he noticed the palace was beginning to crumble.

“welcome back. a two day palace run, i’m rather shocked.” you turned to the group when the entered lé blanc, a cup of coffee in front of you as you praised them.

everyone stayed quiet as they stared at you in disbelief and surprise, “don’t look at me like that. you’re acting as if i had due date.” you scoffed, taking a sip of your coffee before you yelped when ann had rushed in and hugged you, the coffee spilling onto the counter.

“[name]! i’m so so so so sorry i never checked up on you! or even tried to hang out with you! i’m sorry.” she apologized, the sudden apology sending you into a burst of red filled with embarrassment.

“yeah, we’re all sorry we didn’t see the signs sooner, we did miss you.” why were they all apologizing? wasn’t it supposed to be you apologizing? you made them go through your own mess, and they’re apologizing? what a weird bunch.

you stared at them weirdly after recovering from your embarrassment, “don’t look at us like that!” ryuji suddenly butted in, approaching you and taking you into a headlock, “you went mia on us! you didn’t even show us your newest books!” the sounds of you asking for help brought laughter into the café.

“yeah, i know! i already apologized for that, dumbass!” you escaped from ryuji’s grasp, slapping the back of his head, “clean up the coffee spill if you wanna make up to me.” you ordered ryuji, seeing him scoff and do it reluctantly.

everything went back to normal, yet akechi and akira needed to settle things with you.

“so, how ‘bout a celebration kiss?”

“don’t test me right now.”

[psychedelic-pebble]

I've been having classical music brainrot so I thought of this request: Bill Cipher x Reader where they're both playing the piano (kinda like a duo type thing) and as they play Bill just suddenly has the "Oh. Oh no" realisation that he cares a bit more than he should about this person he first considered nothing but a maybe friend

Very much inspired by Rachmaninoff's Poano Concerto No. 2

hi there!! thank you for your ask!! i absolutely love this idea, and had fun writing this little oneshot!! also i must say, your taste in classical music is impeccable (＾▽＾) hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: None!!

Pairing(s): Bill Cipher x GN!Reader

It was another one of your meetups with the dream demon that you call your friend. The two of you had formed somewhat of a bond, with you being nearly as powerful as he is, he finds enjoyment in your company. You weren’t like the other beings he’s met - not at all. You were entertaining, and more so in a way that was infatuating than amusing.

The two of you had been meeting for a good while now to bask in each other's company, drink a bit and play piano occasionally. Tonight was one of those nights.

You take a seat gracefully at the grand piano in the center of the room, Bill moving up right next to you and sitting. It takes a minute for the two of you to get comfortable with your positioning, but once you do, you waste no time to delve into the piece.

“Ready?” You smile warmly at the demon beside you, and he looks back at you with what looks like a grin, although it’s a bit hard to tell with his lack of mouth.

“As always.” Bill responds casually, cracking his knuckles in an almost comical manner.

You were playing from sheet music, and Bill was improvising next to you. Something you did frequently. You start off by playing the first few notes a bit unsteadily, before you focus a little more and the melody comes naturally to you. This was a new piece, as you usually switched them up to keep things interesting, but that didn’t mean music was entirely foreign to you. You made it up as you went in some parts, and in others, you went with the sheet music.

Your hands move delicately over the piano keys, and you smile warmly to yourself as notes flow freely from the piano. Bill is seated next to you, beginning to play along and focus on improvising off of your part. The melody seeps from the strings beautifully, filling the room with music so vibrant you swear you could see the warm hue emanating from it.

“You’re not too bad at this, Cipher.” You shoot a glance at him and he looks back at you. It looks like he’d be smiling if he had a mouth.

“Not so bad yourself.” He compliments right back, continuing to listen and build off what you play. He knows where the keys are and doesn’t have to necessarily look at the piano, so he instead focuses his attention on you. Your eyes flutter shut as you continue playing, hands dancing over the keys and getting dangerously close to brushing up against Bill’s every so often.

The minutes seem to be passing you by as you delve deeper into the music, sweeping you away with them as you get more and more entranced with your playing. Bill keeps up very well, the combination of your notes playing beautifully together to form somewhat of a new song.

You look so serene, as if you were falling asleep. For some reason, the only thing Bill could focus on was your face. The way your soft features look so focused yet so at ease. You have pretty hair too, he finds himself wanting to run his hands through it. You look so beautiful, and he doesn’t realize he’s completely stopped playing to focus on you. His hands hover above the keys, he finds himself with the strange feeling of… yearning? He wants to hold you, take your hands and…

It hits him all too suddenly. Oh. Oh no. He didn’t - no, he couldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t care about you like this. Not this much.

You stop playing, noticing him staring at you and not playing along with you. “Everything okay, Bill?”

He snaps out of his trance immediately, looking away.

“Yup.” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, almost seeming sheepish. You look at him and he seems to shrink a little. “Everything’s fine over here. Lets, uh, get back to playing.”

“You sure?” You tilt your head and he mentally berates himself for finding it somewhat cute. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope!” He puts his usual persona right back on, shoving these unwelcome feelings down as far as he possibly can. “Keep playing, I’ll catch up.”

You nod, a bit unsure at first but getting back into the rhythm of the song eventually. He picks up where he left off after a bit of hesitation, and the two of you get right back into the melody, although he can’t keep his mind from wandering time and time again.

He’s screwed.

tysm for reading!! hope you all enjoyed <3

[jazmatazzzzzz]

[starhvney]

Hi Star! If the winter event isn’t too filled up could I get a Laurance Coffee with Cream and a Croissant? I hope I said this right, and thank you! I hope you had a very merry Christmas! 🎄

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: established relationship, fluff, outdoor winter activity

𝐚/𝐧: of course! i hope you had a very merry christmas as well… two months later! …it’s still cold outside so like this still counts as the winter event, yes?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“What on earth are you doing out here without a cloak, my love?” An all too familiar voice interrupts the serene silence of the forest covered in powdered white.

The chirping of the birds stopped about half a minute ago, and while any normal person would’ve been alerted to the sudden alarming shift in the air, there was nothing but a calm smile on your lips when you heard the near silent footsteps in the snow behind you.

“I was so excited to meet with you that I forgot it when I left the house,” you explain, turning to stare up at the mirthful blue eyes that narrowed down at you in playful sternness.  

But he could never actually scold you. Not when you looked up at him with those sweet eyes and that mischievous little grin. Oh, you had to know how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger, didn’t you?

“We just saw each other this morning, darling.” He raises an eyebrow in jest, unclasping his cloak without question and wrapping the green fabric around you. For a moment you worry about his own body heat, as he now only stands in what was only two layers of cloth. It’s so natural to him to protect you, even from simple things like the chilling cold, that any words that you dare to protest with fizzle out before you can utter them. He would merely brush them off, anyway.

“A meetup in the woods? I feel like we’re young lovers meeting up in secret,” you say instead, an almost giddy tone in your voice. “And you said what we would do was a surprise. Can you blame me for running here like an excited kid?”

He smiles wide, a few chuckles leaving his lips as he reaches out to lightly pinch your cheek between his rough fingers, unable to hold back the overwhelming affection that flowed through his veins with every simple action and word that left your lips. Oh, you’d be his undoing.

With a tuck of you under his shoulders, he marches forward into the woods, guiding you with a set location clearly in mind. “Oh, when you look at me so sweetly, I suppose I can’t scold you anymore. Though, I’d rather you not catch a cold, hm?”

Neither of you dared to part from each other once on the walk, snuggled into each other’s sides for warmth as you traveled through the snow. You would go from comfortable silence to playful jests and banter, to talking of the small things that happened throughout the day before you met this afternoon. You were so caught up that you barely remembered the ‘surprise’ he had for you until he halted to a stop in a clearing with a decently steep hill slope. If it were summer and you were a few years younger, you might be able to imagine yourself rolling down the side, but instead, you blink at the white field before you.

“Hm? What’s this?” you question, looking up at your lover’s excited grin as he waggles his brows. With a gentle nudge of your chin, he redirects your eyes to a wooden sled that had clearly been put here recently, and your eyes light up in realization. “You… wanted to go sledding with me?”

“It’s a bit childish, but I came across here on my patrol yesterday and it was just too perfect to pass up,” he explains, biting his lip. “I hadn’t done this since I was little, and I wanted to do it with you. I thought it would be fun.”

He looks down at you, going quiet as he waits for your reaction—wondering if you thought this was silly or if it was actually a good idea. The hesitation only lasts for a second before you’re smiling giddily, and his confident demeanor returns tenfold as he drags you over to the sled.

“You know, you are so adorable,” you coo as he bends down to adjust the wooden vehicle, and he looks up at you through his lashes with narrowed eyes before grabbing you by the waist to position you at the front.

“Adorable? No, clearly I’m a very tough guard who should be taken very seriously.” His voice cracks as he holds back his laughter. “Clearly.”

Sure, he is in fact very intimidating to others—a shadow knight who had the capability to destroy and cause anything in his reach to crumble in his hands. But the irony in his statement was palpable—because the power he possesses was absolutely nothing in your presence. The strong figure of Laurance Zvahl was nothing more than clay in your hands, soft and moldable to your every whim and desire.

He knew very well that this was true, which is why he laughs at his own statement as he makes sure his cloak is tightly gathered around you and that your scarf is covering your face to protect you from the biting wind.

“Right of course,” you giggle in return, leaning back into the hard wall of his chest as he sits behind you, securing you between his legs in precaution.

“Ready?” he asks, nuzzling his cold nose into the side of your face.

“Mhm,” you nod, a sense of giddiness rushing over you as you look down the slope ahead.

“Alright. Hold on to me, lovely,” he murmurs, the smile evident in his voice as he pushes you two forward, setting the sled into motion.

The momentum picks up almost immediately, and you can’t help the flurry of childish giggles that leave your lips as the two of you glide down the snow at an increasing speed. Laurance's chest rumbles as he laughs full-heartedly with you, and you think your chest may swell and explode at the happiness the noise brings you. The biting cold of the wind against your cheeks is small in comparison to the moment, and the rush ends all too quickly when you both reach the bottom of the hill, slowing to a stop.

Your pulse is rapid, adrenaline forcing more breathy laughter from the two of you. “That was so much fun!” 

You want to hear the evidence of his joy again, to record it in your mind and cling to it for when the two of you inevitably will have to return to your duties in the village. Thankfully, it seems he has a similar conviction; his next words speak your thoughts before you even have a chance to gather them.

“Now we just have to do that a few more times, so I can hear that sweet laughter again. Yes?” He smiles, leaning forward and pulling your chin up so he can place a kiss against your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, and finally your lips. “What do you say?”

“A few? It has to be at least ten!”

Mirthful chuckles warm your wind-whipped cheeks, and another gentle press of his chapped lips meets your forehead. “Of course. Whatever your heart desires, my love.”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @allieyaaa @luvsymai

[themdera]

George Clarke replied to your story - Part 3

2,388 words. Green circle. Red Circle. what’s the difference?

—————————————

You stared at his message for a moment longer, your heart thudding in your chest. Burr & Co, Camden. Tomorrow. 11 a.m.

Keeping it simple, you typed out your reply:

“Okay :) I’ll see you there.”

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, then placed your phone face down on the bed like it might explode.

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

“see you then”

You opened and liked his message unsure of what you could reply to that.

Okay,” you muttered to yourself, exhaling deeply. “This is happening. You’re meeting George Clarke tomorrow.”

It wasn’t until a moment later that the weight of it fully hit you. You weren’t just running into him at an event or commenting on a video; you were actually meeting him—on purpose. And, judging by the way this conversation had gone, not in a “fan meets creator” way.

Flipping your phone back over, you sent another voice note to the group chat, the panic creeping into your voice.

“Girls, I replied with a simple ‘Okay, see you there,’ but what the actual hell? Like, I’m really meeting George Clarke tomorrow. What if it’s weird? What do I even say?!”

The chat immediately lit up:

“Step one: breathe. You’re gonna be fine.”

“He clearly wants to meet you, so just let it flow!”

“We’re manifesting good vibes for you. Casual slay, remember?”

One of your friends chimed in with a voice note: “Honestly, just treat it like any other meetup. He’s a person, just like you. Worst-case scenario, it’s a funny story. Best case? Who knows!”

You sighed, shaking your head. They were right—there was no point overthinking it. You’d figure it out tomorrow. For now, all you needed to do was find something to wear, get a decent night’s sleep, and try not to spiral. Easier said than done right?

After sending your reply to George, you decided it was time to pull yourself together. The nerves bubbling in your stomach weren’t going to go away by pacing around your room. You grabbed a towel and headed toward the bathroom.

The warm water of the shower helped clear your head, washing away some of the anxiety as you let yourself think through tomorrow. It wasn’t a big deal—you were just meeting someone for coffee. Someone famous. Someone who… okay, focus.

Once you were out of the shower, you stood in front of your wardrobe, towel wrapped around you, trying to decide on an outfit. You wanted something simple, casual, but still put-together. After flipping through a few options, you settled on a classic look: a well-fitted white t-shirt, black high-waisted jeans, and your white trainers. It was easy, comfortable, and left room for you to dress it up with makeup and curls tomorrow.

Satisfied, you laid everything out neatly, feeling a little more prepared.

To relax, you grabbed a book off your nightstand, curled up on your bed, and let yourself sink into the story. It was a welcome distraction, the kind of quiet moment you needed to calm your thoughts before the big day.

The next morning, you woke up early, surprisingly refreshed. After making yourself a quick breakfast of toast, you hopped back in the shower to wake up fully and try to relax. This time, the nerves were back, but you kept reminding yourself to stay calm. Once out of the shower, you decided to curl your hair gently, adding just enough bounce to frame your face. Next came makeup—simple and natural, with a little extra mascara and a touch of blush to brighten your look. Finally, you slipped into your outfit: the white t-shirt and black jeans fit perfectly, striking that balance between effortlessness and style.

You checked your reflection in the mirror one last time, smoothing the hem of your shirt and running your fingers through your curls. Then you grabbed your phone to check the time: 10:30 a.m.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “Let’s do this.”

You slipped your phone into your bag, double-checked you had everything you needed, and headed out the door. The familiar hum of the city greeted you as you made your way to the tube. The journey to Camden felt surreal, the nerves growing stronger with each passing station.

But as the train pulled closer to your stop, you took a deep breath and reminded yourself—this wasn’t a big deal. As you stepped off the tube and made your way toward Burr & Co, your nerves started to creep back in. The streets of Camden were busy as always, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm of the city for a moment, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

Before reaching the café, you opened the group chat and typed a quick message:

“Heading in now. Do not call me—I’m muting you guys.”

The replies started flooding in almost instantly:

“GOOD LUCK BESTIE.”

“You’ve got this!”

“Don’t forget to update us after!”

You rolled your eyes fondly before silencing the chat and slipping your phone back into your bag.

Not even a minute later, your phone buzzed with a new notification. You pulled it out to see a message from George:

“Hey, I’m about to order. What you having?”

Your heart skipped a beat. He was already there. Of course, he was—it was George Clarke, and you’d half-expected him to be casually late or something.

Quickly, you typed back:

“A flat white, please. Thanks :)”

You picked up your pace, your sneakers scuffing lightly on the pavement as you turned the corner. The café came into view, cozy and bustling with life. Through the window, you spotted George almost immediately. He was sitting at a table near the window, his phone in one hand as he leaned back in his chair. His signature hair was curled a little more than you realised, and he looked… well, exactly like himself, which was somehow more intimidating than you’d expected.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. You walked over to George’s table, your heart thudding in your chest as you pulled out the chair across from him.

“Hello, George,” you said with a small smile, settling into your seat.

He looked up from his phone, meeting your gaze with a sheepish grin. “Hi,” he said, and then, almost immediately, added, “I really can’t lie—I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

His tone was unexpectedly deflated, and you tilted your head, confused. “What? Why not?” you asked, giggling slightly to break the tension.

George scratched the back of his neck, looking a little awkward. “I mean… I didn’t think you’d even reply to my message, never mind agree to, uh… a date.”

A date? What?

Your mind reeled, but you kept your face as neutral as possible. Was this a date? When had this turned into a date?

“Uh,” you started, stumbling over your words, “I mean, yeah, I was kind of surprised myself…”

You trailed off, unsure of what else to say. George seemed to notice your hesitation because he leaned forward slightly, a glimmer of nervousness in his eyes.

“But,” you continued, your voice steadying, “you’re… exactly my type.”

Where that came from, you weren’t sure, but it seemed to hit the right note. George’s expression shifted into something between surprise and a small, bashful smile.

“Really?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his grin growing. “I mean, I’m flattered. I kind of thought that you would think i was just, you know, messing with you.”

“Well, you’re here now,” you said, shrugging lightly. “And I guess I am too, so…”

“Guess we’ll see where this goes,” he finished, his voice lighter now, the awkwardness melting away.

The barista called out your drinks, giving you the perfect excuse to pull back and catch your breath. This was already more intense than you’d planned—but a part of you couldn’t help but enjoy the way the morning was shaping up.

You returned to the table, carefully placing George’s latte in front of him before taking your seat again.

“Thank you for this,” you said with a smile, gesturing to your flat white.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his own grin easy and genuine. “So, how long have you lived here?”

“I moved to London after uni,” you began, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “Finished my degree, got a job, and now I work in a corporate office. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure how to describe my job half the time.” You laughed, the sound breaking the slight tension.

George chuckled, raising his eyebrows. “Sounds mysterious. Do you enjoy it, though?”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” you said, nodding slightly. “It pays pretty well compared to my friends who work in similar positions, so I can’t complain, really.”

“Ah, the golden trade-off: money versus passion,” he teased, taking a sip of his latte. “Would you trade it for something you love, or are you one of those secretly passionate-about-spreadsheets people?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Definitely not passionate about spreadsheets. But, honestly? I think I’m okay with where I am right now. It’s stable, you know? Gives me the chance to focus on other things outside work.”

George leaned back, studying you for a moment with a small smile. “Fair enough. Stability’s underrated, I think.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. The conversation felt natural, easy, and you started to relax a little. Whatever this was turning into, it wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d feared.

“I’m saving up to pay two years’ worth of rent for the place I’m currently in,” you told him, setting your cup down. “That way, I’ll have some breathing room to look into other options. And I’ve started writing a little bit more, too.”

George’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “You’re a writer?”

You nodded. “Kind of. I tried it at uni and really enjoyed it, but my degree was more business-based, so I never really got the chance to explore it properly.”

“That’s cool,” he said, leaning back slightly and running a hand through his hair. “What do you write?”

“Mostly just little personal things for now. Nothing serious. It’s more of a creative outlet than anything,” you admitted with a small laugh.

“That’s still really cool,” he replied, his expression warm. “It’s good to have something like that outside of work.”

You smiled, but quickly redirected the conversation, feeling like you’d been talking about yourself too much. “Sorry, I’m rambling about me again. What about you? Got anything exciting happening at the minute?”

George shrugged, his lips curving into a half-smile. “Not much, really. Same old stuff—filming, editing, trying to stay on top of things. I’m working on a couple of new video ideas, though, which I’m pretty excited about.”

“Any spoilers?” you teased, tilting your head.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nice try. But no, you’ll just have to wait and see like everyone else.”

“Fair enough,” you replied, sipping your coffee. “Guess I’ll have to keep an eye on your channel then.”

“Guess you will,” he said, his grin widening. There was something playful in his tone, but the way he looked at you felt a little more sincere.

The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from favorite video games to football teams and even dream trips abroad. You found yourself laughing more than you expected, surprised by how much you had in common with George. Despite the initial nerves, it felt like talking to an old friend.

George leaned back in his chair, finishing the last sip of his latte. “You know,” he said, glancing out the café window, “it’s such a nice day. Want to take a walk instead of sitting here?”

You blinked, caught slightly off guard by the suggestion but not opposed to it. “Yeah, sure,” you said with a smile. “Why not?”

“Perfect,” he replied, standing up and grabbing his beanie off the table. He held the door open for you as you both stepped out onto the busy streets of Camden, the city buzzing with life around you.

The crisp air was refreshing, and as you walked alongside him, the conversation picked back up effortlessly. The café had been a nice starting point, but walking together felt more relaxed, like you were slipping into a rhythm that just worked. Walking side by side through the lively streets of Camden, the conversation ebbed and flowed naturally. There was an ease to it that felt almost surreal, but one question kept circling in your mind.

You couldn’t help but wonder: Why had he even viewed your story in the first place?

Feeling a rare surge of boldness, you decided to ask.

“George, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied, his lips curling into a smile as he glanced at you. “What’s up?”

You hesitated for a second, then just went for it. “How come you viewed my story?”

He let out a small laugh, looking slightly caught off guard. “Erm, well…” He ran a hand through his hair, the faintest hint of pink coloring his cheeks. “I’d seen your profile a few times, and then I noticed I was on your close friends list. I was with Chris and Arthur at the time, so I asked if they were on your close friends too.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And were they?”

He grinned. “Nope. Just me.”

“Interesting,” you said, trying to suppress a smile.

“And then,” he continued, his tone a bit lighter now, “I watched your story… and, well, I had to reply.”

You laughed softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “You really couldn’t resist, huh?”

“Not when it said, ‘this one’s for you.’” He smirked, glancing at you sideways. “I mean, what was I supposed to think?”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t hide your amusement. “I didn’t even realise you were still on my close friends. It wasn’t actually for you, you know.”

“Sure, sure,” he teased, his grin widening. “But it worked out, didn’t it?”

You shook your head, laughing as you walked on. Despite his cheeky tone, you couldn’t deny he was right. It had worked out.

——————————————————————————

a/n - i’m loving writing this i can’t lie! i could end it here but…. there is a part 4.

tagged: @authortelevision @pretendyoucantseeme

@lovelynikol7

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x FemReader) V

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz

_______________𖤐

It seemed like the broadcasts had ended their torment over the pentagram. Remaining completely silent for almost a week now. Y/n had noticed this too, thinking that maybe he was being genuine. They had kept their meetups public, for her safety and peace of mind. Mainly at coffee shops around her warehouse. They adventured a little further today, to cannibal town. Only agreeing because it was nearby to a place she had to meet her boss that day. 

"So, your boss is quite a well known sin?" He asked, lifting his dark coffee to his lips and bowing the steam off the surface. She nodded, sipping at hers. "How did that come about?" 

She shrugged in return "Guess I accidentally sold my soul" She said, sarcasm clawing at her tone. He hummed, unsatisfied with his answer. "Do you like your job?" He was grasping at straws now. The question tickled her, unable to contain her laughter. 

"Do i come across as a particularly content individual?" She chuckled. Wiping an invisible tear from her eye. "I work against my will. If it was up to me I'd... I don't know, write. Or broadcast the news." He saw a light in her, like the light he saw all those years ago. She is still in there. 

She looked down at her watch, gasping and standing abruptly. His ears twitched as the chair screeched backwards against the concrete., and looked at her waiting for an answer to the deviant behavior. "I was supposed to meet him at the abandoned office block in five minutes" She struggles to put her coat on, one of the arms of it being inside out. He watched her struggle, amused, leaning on his hands. "What you looking at?" she huffs. 

"Need a little assistance?" 

"I can put a coat on!" She bites back. He shrugs, clicking his fingers and dragging both of them into their shadows on the ground. Reappearing outside the abandoned building. "I could have done that" Y/n rolls her eyes, shoving the rest of her arm into the sleeve. 

"I'm aware, but I want to see this oh so powerful being" He adjusted the tie atop his ironed suit. "How do I look?"

She turns to look at him, stress showing in the veins on their forehead. "You're not coming to a meeting with me. If you want me to trust you, leave. Please" Her face softened to a more desperate pleading expression. Making him submissive to her, and agreeing. "I will wait out here for you, darling" He smiled, receiving a smile back as she begins moving towards the door with nothing more to say. 

Satan enjoyed quieter areas, giving him more space to think. Less people to deal with was an ideal world for him. He went to seat himself on an old chair, before it gave out. Nearly ending with him on the floor. Glad no one was there to see that, he dusted himself off and resorted to leaning on his staff instead. The door creaked open before him, dust circulating the room like air flow.

"You're on time. Interesting..." His voice rumbled through the room, stirring old dirt, making the ceiling drop old paint onto the floor. She shut the door behind her, not moving an inch towards him. "Your numbers dropped for a while. I see they are being picked back up. You may have just saved your soul"

"What soul" She mumbled under her breath "What?" "Nothing!"

He stood up straight, adjusting his posture, and striding towards the demon. "Don't let it happen again" His presence hovered above her, eyes scared to be taken off his. "I can't replace you as easily as every other soul, but that doesn't mean that i won't" A hand fell to her chin, his calloused fingers pulling at her face to move closer to him.

Just outside the room stood Alastor. Listening in, It might be important, he thought. 

"Don't let me down, or I'll remind you of all the reasons of why you wiped your own memory" His lips spoke next to her ear, finishing his sentence with a hollow laugh. "I will be back in a month" and with that, his body melted away to the bone until there was nothing left. He had left her in the discomfort of her own skin, alone, almost fragile. She felt as if she could follow him into the ground and flow away forever. But that wasn't the case. Whatever she had forgotten was obviously bad, since she erased her own memory. So the last thing she wanted was to be haunted by them all over again. 

Alastor, on the other side of the wall, struggled to maintain a smile. Wide eyes like he had been stabbed in the back multiple times. She erased her own memory? Of him? Perhaps she found out what he was and couldn't bare the thought of seeing him again. His heart ached. 

"Alastor" A startled voice came from the door frame "I thought you said you'd stay outside" Y/n sounded almost angry, too exhausted to portray any emotion other than fatigue. He stared at her blanky, still showing a face of hurt. His smile wanting to drop, but looking at if there was rope physically holding it up. 

"I'm... sorry" He mumbled, static dropping from his voice completely. "I will see you some other time."

He vanished. Leaving her, once again, alone. Truly alone this time. "Alastor?" Y/n questioned. Genuinely calling out for him. What did he hear that upset him that much. He looked hurt. She never thought she'd see that emotion in his eyes before. 

Days passed, no site of him. She had seen him everyday for weeks now. A few days, she even stayed out late in sketchy alley ways. Hoping he might show to scare her. She missed him, but she wouldn't admit it. She even thought she saw him in the corner of her eye on countless occasions. Some part of her was screaming to trust him, and the overlord in her was telling her to keep a look out. 

He will show up eventually, she thought, he's just busy with cannibal stuff. 

In a glaring radio tower on the other side of the pentagram, Alastor stared at the rotting city below him. Feet kicked up on the sound board in front of him, a coffee in his hands, pondering. He convinced himself that he should stay away, but he missed y/n oh so much. It was difficult. He had sent his shadow to watch over her, make sure no one was giving her any grief. 

"So, is this your murder chamber?" That familiar voice came from behind him, sounding very concerned. He almost spun off his chair, whipping his head to see her. 

"How did you find me?"

"I wish i could say it was my amazing detective skills, but i had help" She shrugged, looking at the moving shadow that was connected at his feet once more, giving his owner a sheepish grin. Alastor tutted, shaking his head. "I wanted to know why you ran away? I haven't seen you in days"

He bit his tongue, struggling to think of the right thing to say.

"My apologies, Miss l/n" He started off.  "I have very conflicted feelings, i suppose. I guess you could say that... I'm worried that who I was in life scared off someone very dear to me." He tried to laugh, but it turned into more of a whimper of distress. 

She stood awkwardly with hands behind their back for a second, but as he spoke, y/n found themselves moving closer to him. Looking at him with sad eyes. "Did something I say-"

"I just had a moment, darling, I'm fine." He cut her off, exaggerating his smile to sway her questions. He turned in his seat, facing the large window overlooking hell. 

"If they truly loved you..." Y/n moved closer, standing just behind his seat. "I'm sure they could get over it. No one is perfect" her hand creeped onto his shoulder, sharing the same view with him. 

"You think so?" His heart dropped for a second, as if she was confessing her love for him. He could only dream that was the case. 

"I do"

"Thank you, Y/n"

[sleepyficss]

Hi! I really loved your two x reader and it inspired me to send a request. Could I get a romantic two x reader drabble where reader is another algebrailian who left the playground a while ago? Like they appear suddenly and interrupt two’s show, only to realize who it is?

glass cake.

two x reader, romantic & fluff

authors note:

i based this off tpot3 because i felt that it flowed the best into this scenario :PP but i did NOT do this scenario any justice i'm so sorry ;;

A distant voice announcing the time for 'Cake At Stake', whatever that was, could be heard atop a tall, almost hotel-like building. You stared up at it, unamused.

Out of all things to get up to while you were gone, Two really had two start a whole contest, huh? You wouldn't have guessed to look for them out here, but you can thank X for that.

You had dropped by the Equation Playground for the first time in what felt like forever – though, you wish it had been longer from that chaos. Locating your little yellow friend was easy enough, and you had promised him that you'd catch up again after a meetup with Two.

With a light hop off the ground, you felt the wind rush past you as you attempted to discreetly glide up to join the other objects on top of the building. The whole 'magic' business was never your strong-suit – leaving that for the other Algebraliens that tended to be more magically inclined – but you could admit to yourself that you'd gotten more of a hang of it over your time away.

Successfully landing next to the other contestants, presumably up for elimination if you'd overheard correctly, the objects' silence grew more confused as they stared at your arrival. Two hadn't noticed, blabbering on about their cheesecake with the assumption that they had all the attention from their contestants on them.

Speaking of that cheesecake, one glance at it made you cringe from imagining it in your own hands. Shards of glass stuck out the top and sides, rendering it inedible. You weren't surprised at their teary-eyed dramatics, they always cared a little too much about their cake. But it was... Endearing.

In response to a very... 'eggy' contestant reassuring them that the cake looks delicious, Two deadpans, "It has shards of glass all over it, but are you saying you'd still eat it?"

"I don't think anyone would eat that, Two..." You couldn't hold yourself back from commenting on the disgrace of a cake.

"Hey! You can't just interrupt my elimination –"

A pause lifted in the air, recognition filling the green number's eyes. You blinked your own, and suddenly felt yourself in the embrace of another.

The shift in the air made it clear that they had teleported to you, despite the few feet that had stood between you and them. And, if the odd stillness of the atmosphere was any sign, you were about to be teleported again.

Another blink leaves your assumption righted. Glancing around, you can't exactly recognise where you are, but you could guess from the bed in the middle of the room and the television standing on a shelf on the opposite side, you were probably inside one of the buildings' rooms. More privacy, you determined.

Focusing back on Two, you struggled to pull your arms out from their own wrapped around your body. If you were any other object, you were sure that you'd be broken from the pure strength that Two hugged you with.

Once you'd successfully won your arms back, you slinked them around Two to return their embrace, feeling their head dig deeper into your chest at the comfort of your movements. You leaned down, resisting the temptation to press a kiss onto the crown of their head, and instead just rest your cheek on them.

"Didn't think you'd miss me this much," You teased quietly, "But don't you have a show to host?"

They lifted their head, with you lifting your own in accordance. You felt guilt from your words as you noticed the tears held back in their eyes, a frown etched on their face with quivering lips to follow.

"You left the playground ages ago, I-I didn't even know if you were going to come back... Of course I missed you!"

You were... Surprised, to say the least.

Somehow, you didn't think they'd be this emotional over your return... However, they were always the type, so you should have expected this. It didn't stop the guilt from gnawing away at your soul as you stared at their obvious upset, though.

"Two... I'm sorry, I didn't realise you... Actually missed me." You raised a hand to cup their face, "I won't leave again, alright?"

A frown was still burrowed on their face despite your words, "B-But could you... Stay here, with me? We don't have any spare rooms, b-but you could always stay in mine! That is, I-I can sleep on the floor, or something –"

A light blush tinted your cheeks at their request, a nervous giggle forcing its way out of you and cutting of their rambling, "I'd be happy to – anywhere is better than that mess of a playground, but being with you... Would be perfect, Two, I –"

You were abruptly cut off by the mentioned Algebralien smashing their face against yours, a muffled noise of surprise coming from you, before reciprocating the action and leaning further into them. You felt your face growing warmer still, hugging Two tighter against you as if you could deepen the kiss further.

You revelled in the sweetness of their lips – they, unsurprisingly, tasted a lot like cake. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the only thing they ever bothered to eat. It was almost addicting, though, the taste matching their saccharine actions.

The eventual need to pull away had you holding back a complaint at it ending all too quickly, but the tenderness in Two's eyes as they kept eye-contact with you had the words dying on your tongue.

You felt yourself dry-swallowing, needing to speak up before the silence consumed you both, "I don't think I would mind sharing your bed with you, Two."

They let an amused smile light up on their cheeks at your remark, still blushing a deep green. Although, they suddenly tensed up and threw themselves out of your arms as if remembering something vital.

"A-Ah, the contestants are still waiting on the roof! Uh..." Two nervously looked up in the vague direction, playing with their hands as if they were unsure of their next words, "...You wouldn't mind joining me... And being my co-host, would you..?"

Despite all temptations to tell them that this whole 'contest' was rather silly, and to decline their offer, the passion that they had for it was too infectious. Plus, you didn't want to even imagine the disappointment they'd feel if you responded with anything but 'yes'.

Therefore, you did exactly that, "I'd love to."

"Really? Oh, that's wonderful! They're all going to love you – the contestants, I mean. And you'll love the challenge I have for them today, there's this amusement park –"

A quick peck on the lips had them shutting up, "Maybe, we should get back to them first? They've already been waiting for a while."

"O-Oh! Right, yes, You're right." They held out their hands, signifying you to place your own into theirs.

"By the way, Two?" You murmured as they prepared to teleport you both to the contestants, the air warping around you, "I love you."

With a 'pop!' you had both landed outside, amongst a gathering of trees – seemingly far away from the hotel building. Two held a lost expression, the deep green blush covering their face once again with furrowed eyebrows.

"Hey! Y-You distracted me!" They grumbled as you snickered at the failed teleporting attempt.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it –" You managed out between huffs of laughter.

"But I, uh, I love you too..." Two responded, almost shyly, and caused your amusement to die out as it was replaced by your own blushing.

You gave them one last peck on the lips, before offering a warm smile, "Alright, we've definitely been gone for too long now – we should head back."

They nodded, gripping your hands a smidgen tighter while looking into your eyes. For such an emotional person, Two could really make you feel your own emotions tenfold – for that, you think you owe it to them to stay by their side, this time.

[slinkythecoffeekid]

Chapter Four || Don't Worry, I'm (not) a Professional

Updates: Sorry this chapter took so long to write. I had a busy month between school and, weirdly, hospital visits (I'm fine, I promise). I also spent so much time trying to do fact-checking for travel for this chapter. I did a lot of weird little research for this chapter for some reason. For one, the match Roy mentions about Chelsea winning 3-nil to Arsenal had to be in 2009 because Chelsea also won the Premier's League that year, and that would have been 8 years before Roy was with Richmond for Season One. Putting Roy at roughly 22. (That is if season one takes place when it aired) second: just trying to do travel realistically for reader was a fucking wild time, and then I started playing with google earth and looking at the British countryside. sooooo... Third: The playlist has been updated for the next three chapters, and I'll post the individual playlists later. Chapter Four of "Standing Again" Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Reader Rating: T for teens Word Count: 8.4k Warnings: swearing, Talk of injury, Injury-related trauma, PTSD behaviors, people being relative assholes, also reader is so mean to themselves (I'm so sorry) Synopsis: An emotional meltdown on your own leads to you giving rebbeca an answer, your feelings start to hit a head and you have to be honest with yourself.

Monday mornings always were like pulling teeth; even now, they are still for you. You stood in the queue waiting to order a drink at the local cafe. Your now parasitic relationship partner in crime, Jamie, stood beside you, distracted by his phone, probably scrolling through Instagram or Twitter. Randomly, you'd hear him chuckle to himself before falling silent or aggressively typing something from your right side. People noticed Jamie was there, but most people were far too exhausted this early even to try to talk to him. You also are one of those exhausted people, and that might have added to the lack of people, your resting grumpy face. 

The line moves at a standard pace for an early morning rush, and you move with the flow of the queue, but you are very distracted by your phone. Since your meetup with your eldest brother and coming to terms with your situation, you've been slowly branching back out to talking to former friends. You were not expecting people to be so thrilled to hear from you, including your old teammates, an old group chat you had put on do not disturb brought back on your terms, but you were also starting to regret turning the notifications back on since your friends could not shut up in this chat, mostly talking to each other still but there was now a lot more notifications directed at you like:

“When are you coming to visit?”

“Are you dating someone now?”

“Are you able to come play a game?” 

You know the routine questions. At the moment, the group chat was trying to figure out a time for you to come out west to visit them and hang out with the team, as most, except a few, still played for Man City, the constant texts from your mates this early reminded you just how attuned to the morning everyone in your life is. Reading about your friends going back and forth about plans brought a small smile to your face. 

“What's got you so chipper over there?” Jamie looks over at you with a raised eyebrow. Followed by him peering over to see if maybe you'd opened one of the thousands of memes/reels he's sent you in the past hour alone. 

You don’t look at him but continue to chuckle at an exchange between your mates, “Park and Thomas are trying to get me to visit for a day, and the two can never agree on a damn thing.” you look up at the fact that you two are at the head of the queue, “go on order or something, you're putting a wrench in my jog” you push him forward.

“Alright, alright, geez, don't gotta shove me!” he whines at you, batting  at your hands as he moves forward to order his vanilla latte before shortly turning back to you, “Same or something else this morning?” 

“Surprise me.” Your phone captures your attention fully, and you remove yourself from the queue and sit at a small table, setting your backpack down and waiting for Jamie and your drink. You hardly notice that someone has approached you, like a giant ninja, except the human embodiment of Winnie the Pooh and his shadow, Coach Beard.

“Well howdy and good morning, doc!” Ted's voice startles you away from your scrolling to keep up with the texts you've been receiving all morning. Your skittishness never failed to startle Ted more than yourself most times, and this was no exception to the rule. Beard and Ted leaned away from you in case you decided to use either of them as a punching bag at the moment. Beard let out a ‘woah’ witnessing your panic.  Once you settle back into your seat, Ted gives you a sheepish smile, “Am I ever not going to startle you?” 

You sit in your seat, attempting to straighten yourself out and let out a deep breath in an attempt to steel your anxious heart. Your whole body now felt tense, but you looked over at Ted. " If you start making noise when you walk, maybe we wouldn't keep running into this issue. Good morning, Coach Ted. " You gave him a sheepish smile in return. “How are you this morning?”

“Pretty chipper if I do say so myself. The sun's up, and I'm still alive and enjoying my life... How about yourself there?” 

You shrug, “Jamie decided to hijack my morning routine today, so I'm waiting for him to get over here with my drink… maybe I shouldn't have left him in charge of that-” You look over to the counter where Jamie is waiting for both of your drinks still, he was looking at his phone and smiling to himself, and occasionally said good morning to anyone who greeted him. Being famous was a wild thing, being recognized in the wild of society must suck. He looked up, catching your gaze, and gave a wave, realizing his coaches were also next to you; he waved to them, too. You roll your eyes, shaking your head at him before looking at your phone to a text from Jamie.

Jamie (fucking) Tartt It will be a few more minutes. Tell Ted and Beard cheers for me. 

You turn your phone back over on the table and look at the coaches. “Verbatim, cheers. From Jamie.”

Both coaches waved back to Jamie when he waved to them. Beard cleared his throat and looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, “didn’t realize you were making friends with the team. You have that whole…” Beard gestures to your entire being, “Don't talk to me. I bite vibe about you.” 

“Oh I do, and I draw blood,” you look between the two coaches who now are either very concerned for their safety or very concerned for your safety and that brings a sadistic smile to your face, “Nah, he just kinda decided we are friends now and I'm not arguing with it, the same way that Keeley has also decided that I'm her friend. Are we sure that those two don't share the same brain?” 

This ignited a chuckle from both coaches, “If they are, they both do well-taking turns with it.” Beard looked down at his watch and nudged Ted.

Ted looks over with a ‘Hm?’ but nods seeing the time on Beard's watch, “Well doc, we will see you in a bit, gotta drop off the boss lady's biscuits and decide what the plan for today is,” he adjusts his bag and jacket, “see you later (y/n)!” and with that both Ted and Coach Beard headed out the cafe. 

You wave them off, and before you can adjust to the lack of humans in your vicinity, a cup is placed in front of you. You look up and smile at Jamie. “Thanks, mate. We should get going.” You take your takeaway cup and stand, grabbing your bag that you sat down a while ago while waiting for Jamie. 

Jamie nods, taking a sip from his cup, “Yeah- don't want to have to hear Granddad yelling at me about being late.” Grumbling to himself, he heads outside with you next to him. 

From any outside perspective, you two were opposites, Jamie in his flashy ICON hat and his puffer vest that, honestly, you had no idea how many of those things he had, you didn't want to find out. His cross-body bag and way too expensive trainers. He looked like a kid who just had money to spend on his parents' credit cards. You could feel the stress of paying off that credit card bill forming in the back of your mind. You on the other hand, wore black athletic joggers, a black hoodie, and a grey t-shirt under the hoodie, your trainers were a pair of white Adidas you had splurged on a while back and they for the fact you wore them quite a bit; held up and you did your best to keep them clean for yourself. Of course, you also had a hat on, but it was a plain black one. You dressed like a normal person compared to the walking billboard for flashy fashion. 

Jamie unlocked the car as you two both approached. You opened up the back passenger door and put your bag on the floor to avoid any damage. Once you had assured your laptop wasn't going to get crushed by anything, you shut the door and got into the passenger seat. Buckling yourself in, you put your coffee in the coffee holder and frowned. The one thing you noticed from the two times in Jamie's car is that the seat never was adjusted from how you adjusted the seat. 

Jamie, who had started the car and was backing out of the spot he was in, had his hand around the back of your seat to help him back out of the spot. “What?” he asked, glancing at your perplexed expression.

You shake your head; you were reading too far into it. Perhaps the last person just liked where you set the seat, or more likely, he hadn't had anyone else in his car since last Saturday. “Seat has not been adjusted.”

Jamie rolled his eyes as he put the car into drive after he had backed the car out of the parking spot, “Well duh, I haven't had anyone else in the car- what do you take me for?” 

“To be completely honest? A bit of a whore,” you take a sip of your coffee.

Jamie gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest, “(y/n) I'm hurt! This is defamation of character!” There was a smirk on his face, and he glanced back over to you. 

You smirk at his offense, “Surprised you even know what defamation of character is- also, let's not forget about your stint on ‘Lust Conquers All’ poor Amy's heart,” you tease and lean back in your seat. 

“It's a reality show! You play to win! But also, yeah, no, it was pretty rude of me, wasn't it?” he shrugged, turning the corner. 

You nod, watching the road. The silence that fell over the car ride was comfortable and incredibly short-lived as you two made it to the Richmond clubhouse in good time, considering the time of day it was. Jamie pulled up to the door and unlocked the doors. “And here you are.” 

You roll your eyes, unbuckle yourself, and open your door. Climbing out, you are handed your coffee, and you shut the door before getting into the backseat and grabbing your backpack. You look over to Jamie, who was watching you to make sure you got everything. “Watch it, Tartt. People might think we’re dating or something.” 

He shrugs and gives you the signature Tartt Smirk, “Wouldn't that be just your luck?” 

You shake your head, waving as you head inside the building. Once inside, you head directly to your office to set down your bag. Surprised you haven't run into anyone. More surprised that Keeley wasn't waiting for you in your office. However, as out of character as it was, it made for a quiet morning. Monday meant that you had to get through the next three days with whatever you had left over from the previous order, so here you stood in front of all five of your fridges staring into them like you'd been sucked into the void. You let out a loud sigh, shut the doors to the fridges, and sit yourself on one of your counters sitting crisscross applesauce, checking your phone. Many new notifications came in from your friends, and a few from your brother, including a very cute photo of your nephews in their afterschool football club jerseys together. You hadn't realized how big they had gotten, for both of them to be playing in after-school teams. 

The thing that caught your eye more than anything was a link that Roy had sent you that you had not seen until now. Considering he sent it at three in the bloody morning, it was not a surprise you hadn't seen it. 

Roy (that footballer) Kent  [link] You're going to want to look at this.

Now, knowing Roy this long, you knew he would never send you something that would intentionally throw you off your rhythm. However, there have been moments where the wrong things have been said to the wrong people, and feelings have gotten hurt. However, you didn't think this was one of those moments. You click the link, and it leads you to a YouTube video from Sky Sports, specifically that Saturday Gillette panel they run. You always thought that panel was bogus, three guys talking about a sport that they hadn't played in years and only talked about the statistical side of a season and projections and stuff like that. There was no heart for an underdog. However, the title of the clip caught your eye. 

(Y/N) COMING BACK TO FOOTBALL?

You rolled your eyes as you clicked play on the clip. Per usual, the three men, Jeff Stelling, Chris Karma, and George Cartrick, sat around the stage desk, talking about a game that had their attention more so than whatever this clip was going to talk about. 

“Right then, in other footballing news, we turn to the Championship League. Former Goalkeeper star (y/n) was seen in the Richmond Greyhounds Dugout on Saturday during the Richmond Vs Sunderland game.”  A picture from last Saturday of you chatting with the other coaches on the sidelines shows up on the screen behind them.  “What do you think this means for her career going forward? Chris?”  “I think it would be wonderful if we could see them back on the pitch and in the box. They are one heck of a goalkeeper, and we cannot forget about the iconic broken nose from their debut game. They have a presence on the pitch, and they have been sorely missed by their fans.” Another picture of you from your debut game, after you'd been patched up from stopping a goal with your face, of all things. You were roaring at your team's victory, you had gone back to being the goalkeeper after receiving medical care. Seeing this photo of you brought a smile to your face. Chris always had nice things to say about everyone, though.  “What about you, George?” “I don't see why everyone's so excited to see them. For all we know, they could just work for Richmond as kit men. They have been a decent goalkeeper, but at the end of the day, they retired after one torn ligament in their leg. I've seen men push through worse and come back better than before they got hurt. That's what happens when we treat mediocrity like they are a godsend. Their ego gets overinflated, and then they crash and burn. Just like (y/n).”  “That's some… deep feelings there, George. Personally, if they are coming back to football, I wish them the best, and if it even just means being a coach, they are always welcomed in my eyes on the pitch.” 

You sat there stunned and quiet, not that you'd been talking, but hearing such an unfiltered negative opinion of you always was a punch to your ego, self-esteem, and sense of worth. You stared at your phone for far too long, hearing the words that George said over and over again. Not that you should care about it, George was a sexist prick, and you hated him too, but it was the fact he said that on national television that got you. You had always had critics, you had people who didn't like you. It was part of the sport, part of being someone people could spot in a crowd. It never hurt like this, though; it wasn't the fact of who it came from but the message. The feeling was deeper than surface-level criticism, you recognized this feeling, the feeling that they were right. 

Forcing yourself off the counter, you shoot a quick text to Rebecca that you're taking off for the day. Not that you needed to be in the office today for long.  You also put your phone back on Do Not Disturb as it had been for the past three years. You needed some air.  You need to take a walk, be distracted, anything to keep you busy. You grab your keys and your bag and leave the confines of your office that had begun to feel suffocating to you and walk out of the building, off the club property, through town, and to the bus station. You were going purely on muscle memory; what you were about to do was not a trip you had taken recently, but you knew where you needed to be, somewhere so much louder where no one knew you. Not that many people in Richmond knew you, but the feeling of being somewhere else was something you needed. 

So you made your way to the bus stop closest to you. You sat patiently waiting for the bus; it wasn't long before it showed up. Getting to you took a transfer ticket, as there was no train station in Richmond, and you needed to take two buses to even get to the nearest train station. The bus ride was quiet; most people on the bus were heading to or from somewhere in their daily lives. No one batted an eye at another person on the bus. You made sure to sit near a window seat away from others and had both your earbuds in to listen to something to fill the silence. What you had decided on was The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.

THE BOY’S NAME WAS SANTIAGO. DUSK was falling as the boy arrived with his herd at an abandoned church. The roof had fallen in long ago, and an enormous sycamore had grown on the spot where the sacristy had once stood.

---

After taking both buses, you arrive in Darlington, specifically about a block away from the train station. The beautiful old structure and its bell tower stood proudly against the blue skies of the day.  You had bought your ticket online while on the bus, so you quickly made your way into the train station and headed towards the platform. The station was as busy as any station could be at midday, but boarding was easy enough. You found yourself an open seat, and you got comfortable. By all estimations, this ride was going to be less than two hours, and you could use it to check your emails. Settling into your seat properly, you pulled out your laptop and got to work doing smaller tasks you knew you could do remotely. 

You spent the next two hours bouncing between work emails and spacing out, watching the countryside and the towns you passed through. Your train stopped in York, Leeds, and Huddersfield. Luckily, your train ride went as smoothly as it could, and in the blink of an eye, your train had stopped at your destination. 

“Now arriving at Victoria Station in Manchester. If departing, please make sure you have all items,” a voice announced from the overhead. 

You looked up at the speaker and then back to the window to the inside of the station, packed your bag up, and got ready to disembark. As the train came to a stop, people stood and slowly filtered off the train, and you were alongside the crowd. Once off the train and a safe enough distance away from the platform, you stopped to take in the stadium. Looking around, you start walking, following the signs to the stairs that lead you outside and into Manchester proper. Looking around, you could see the cabs coming and going to take people, but you, being someone who doesn't mind a good walk, decided to leg it. The city hasn't changed much. Full of people, full of construction. The usual city bustle you had once loved, but now? It was just far too loud for your taste. 

Your walk was one of brisk walking and very little taking in the sights, but it was all worth it as you made it to the home of your former club, staring up at the big stadium you thought maybe you'd feel something. Happiness? Relief? But staring at it, you felt this pit in your heart grow deeper. Why did you come out here? Why did you want this again? Did you miss the sport or miss being relevant? That couldn't be the end of this- no, you came out here and you did it to feel better, so that's what you were going to do dammit.

You stared up at the main stand entrance, looking at the picture of the men's team on the billboard, nodded at it, in a show of respect for them, and headed toward the door. You honestly had no idea what you were planning on doing once inside, but you felt that maybe taking a tour of the place would help fill you with better feelings than whatever you were feeling in your chest now. Once you had made it inside the building, you looked around seeing posters of team members, photos of winning celebrations, years the club won the cup, for women and men, all the club's history was on display. You walk around looking at the old pictures and Kits. You walk over to the 2014-2015 season pictures and memorabilia, a picture of your team and yourself, you smile to yourself thinking about how everyone in the photo was joking around and having a good time, and even your former manager was smiling even though he was well known for being a stoic guy. Looking at yourself being so happy surrounded by your best mates and blissfully unaware of the fact you'd retire after that season is a bit jarring to you. Your smile fades, and you just stare at yourself in the picture. You're younger, obviously, and in the best shape of your life. However, there is a much different energy that you had in this photo. The lack of cynicism, the pure spirit of a young footballer who is one of the best in the world, and just pure joy. All three things were something you'd become accustomed to being the opposite of. You stood staring for a moment, not hearing someone come up beside you. You need to start paying better attention to your surroundings. 

“That year, that was a decent season for the men. Shame that we didn't win, though. Us losing to Chelsea for both teams, is still one hell of a season for the women, with them securing their Super League spot. Those were two hells of lineups, though. You a fan?” the voice that came from next to you was from an older man, looking roughly to be in his late seventies to early eighties if you had to hazard a guess on his age. He was a tall man and lanky to boot, his hair snow white, and he wore khakis and a plaid sky-blue button-up with a fleece vest over the top that was zipped up.  He offered a kind smile that would make you a horrible person if you didn't return the smile.

You nod, although a little aloof, and give the man a small smile, “You could say that. Man, City is pretty dear to my heart.” You look at your picture one last time before turning to face the man entirely.

He nods, “Ah, good on yah.  Are you here for one of the tours or just here to visit?” 

You pause to think; you didn't come up with many plans, and you didn't tell anyone where you were heading. What you did know is that you missed something, and you wanted to figure it out. “Yeah, I'm here for one of the tours. Figured I might since I'm in town for the day.” 

The older man beams at you and gestures you to follow, “Right then, well let's start from the beginning of the founding of the club in 1880-” 

—

To say it had been a peaceful day at the Richmond clubhouse was true, as no one was particularly needy, no fires to put out, no drama, and easy enough board meetings for Rebeca to have. It was probably the calmest Monday the club had had in a while. 

The coaches all sat in the office eating their lunches, Both Ted and Beard had sandwiches, Roy had some sort of homemade protein god meal that he made the night before and Nate had leftover takeaway, the coaches had been discussing plans for their games coming up for the week and while they talked taking turns pitching formation plans. The problem with having the same four coaches talking over the same conversation is that they never get anywhere. “I would say we could ask the team what they think, but then we aren't doing our job they’re doing ours…” Ted sat back in his chair, letting out a long sigh, and looked up at the clock. “I say we table this conversation and talk about something else. Anyone got anything that they want to talk about?” he laces his fingers behind his head and looks at the other coaches. 

Both Roy and Beard shake their heads and continue to eat their food, and both respectively have now pulled a book out of thin air and continue to read and eat. 

Nate, although still sitting on the filing cabinet, looks around, “thought (y/n) would have been called in or somethin',” he jokes to himself, but the smile fades seeing no one responds to it the way he was expecting. “Can’t always ask them for their thoughts, not their job.” Beard gives Nate a long, hard look over the top of his book, watching Nate causing him to squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

“I just mean- they know defensive teams, that's all I meant by it.” Nate looks down at the floor, a bit abashed, twiddling his thumbs. 

The coaches soaked in the unspoken tension before Jamie popped his head into the office, “Hey coach, have you seen (y/n)? I haven't seen them, and they aren't in their office.” 

The four coaches shrug and shake their heads, a small mixture of  ‘no, I haven't’ from all of them. 

“Sorry, Jamie. I haven't seen them since this morning. Is everything okay?” he looks at Jamie, worried. 

Jamie shakes his head. " Nothing serious, but they seemed fine this morning—I wonder why they would have left, that's all.”

Roy sighs and shuts his book. “Shut the door.” 

The coaches looked at each other in concern, but Beard rolled over to the door closest to him and shut it. Nate shut the door to the office that connected his and Roy's to the main coach's office. 

“Well, that's not ominous, grandad-’ Jamie steps into the office, and Beard shuts the door behind him.

Ted sat up straight with great concern, “Everything alright, Roy? If you need to talk to us, we are all ears.” 

“It's not about me, it's about (y/n). Just watch.” Roy grunts, pulling out his phone and opening the link sent to you earlier today. The four men sit quietly as they listen to the audio. Roy had fast-forwarded it so that it was only the part where George was talking and the end of the clip. The four men sat in uneasy silence as the audio ended, and Roy put his phone back into his pocket. The room sat in silence, processing what was said.

“That's some strong feelings…” Ted nodded his head slowly. “But Roy, why are you wound up tighter than a ball of yarn in my grandma's bag over this?” 

Roy sighs and crosses his arms leaning against the glass window, “thought maybe they would want to see it before someone confronted them about it, I dunno Id be pissed if someone came up to me and asked if I was going to play again based on one stupid comment from those idiots.” 

Beard nods, leaning further back in his seat and puts his feet up on the desk, “They didn't even necessarily talk about the fact that we won but the fact that (y/n) was there.” seeing everyone looking at him, he shrugs nonchalantly,  “I watched the whole segment.”

Jamie frowned, “They ain't like you Roy, not everyone brushes shit off the way you do.” he was frustrated, yes slightly at Roy for thinking that it was appropriate to send you something like this, it was bound to shake your confidence. What he was truly mad about was the fact that you were still so uncomfortable talking to anyone about anything you were feeling. Jamie thought you two were opening up to each other, but he guessed he was wrong. 

Roy's shoulders tensed looking over at Jamie, “I realize that now Tartt-” he was angry enough at himself he didn't need the blame of a shithead like Jamie on top of that, one slight move could turn into a physical altercation in a small office.

Ted raised his hands to stop the boys from turning their disagreement into a fistfight. “Alright, woah, woah, woah fellas! Alright now, look, Roy, you misread the situation, and it probably caused them to not have the best of times. And Jamie, I know you two have become friends, but there are things we just don't talk about with others. What matters is that we support them whenever they get back, be it today or tomorrow, Because that's what friends do. Now, where would they have gone if this caused them to leave?” 

Beard, Jamie, and Roy all looked between each other and Ted in confusion and shook their heads, not sure. You still were an enigma to them. You stayed quiet, and you did things that kept people from knowing you well, and that was how you liked it. 

Nate, however, not that he knew you well or wanted to know you well, had noticed some of your behavior when no one was looking, the Man City memorabilia that you kept on you, specifically your key lanyard. Your office had Manchester City stuff in it, too. Your reserved personality is the way you only piped up if someone asked. The nervous tendency to bite your nails. These were all things he had seen and noticed. “Could it be they went to Manchester?” he nervously cleared his throat as now everyone in the room looked over at him. “I just mean- that's where they used to play, right? If I was in a shit mood id want to relive my glory.” 

The other four men all had an ‘ah yes’ moment and then all sat there, twiddling their thumbs as if deciding what to do since they didn't know if it was best to still leave you be or for someone to go get you. Jamie looked between his four coaches and shoved his hands in his pockets. “imma go then- grab lunch or something,” and he turned to head out the door.

“Hey, Jamie?” Ted called from behind him. 

“Yeah, coach?” Jamie paused and looked back over his shoulder. 

“Listening first is important, but showing that you hear what's being said is also important… alright?” Ted glinted in his eye; he knew what Jamie was thinking, and he gave Jamie a nod, the go ahead.” 

Jamie smiles and nods understandingly. “Right, I got it, coach." With that, he heads for his locker. 

“Sure it's a good idea for Jamie to go after them?” Beard looks over at Ted with a raised eyebrow. 

“We won't know until they get back, will we?” Ted smiles, turning back to the strategy board. Right, fellas, let's get back to it, shall we?” 

—

Jamie grabbed his bag and his keys out of the top of his locker, checking his phone for the time. Realizing what time it was he scrambled to continue packing his things up for the day, muttering to himself as things didn't go into his bag as smoothly as he was hoping for, then attempting to shove everything back in again with less success than the first time. Most of the team was in the locker room, either they stayed for lunch or they had just returned from grabbing food. 

“Think he's alright? He's been trying to shove his phone in his bag for a minute there now,” Collin was watching Jamie while eating a bag of crisps from a sandwich shop he popped into for lunch. He was standing next to Isaac and Sam who both were paying little if absolutely no mind to Jamie's stress. 

Sam glanced up from his phone to look at Collin, “Perhaps he missed (y/n), they eat lunch together most days.” he then went back to scrolling on his phone. Clearly not interested in Jamie. 

“Nah mate, (y/n) left earlier.” Isaac finished fixing his boots and looked at Jamie while still hunched over from tying his laces. “Stressing over something stupid.” he rolled his eyes straightening up and putting his phone in his cubby. 

Collin frowned, arms crossed watching Jamie still, as he watched Jamie a small group of the team had congregated around them, all just watching Jamie stressing. All of them whispered and shared their ideas of why he looked like he just found out his nan was in the hospital. Common theories where he found out his favorite hair care product got discontinued, that his nan might actually be in hospital, and the fan favorite, he did something stupid towards you and was trying to fix it. 

Finally, Isaac let out a sigh, “Oi. Tartt, what are you on about over there?” 

Jamie finally looked up to see all of his teammates standing huddled staring at him. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, “how long have you all been standing over there like that?” 

There's a mass of muttering from the group, But Collin brings attention to himself, “You alright there boyo? You look like your nan is in hospital like you're pale as a ghost.” 

Jamie frowns looking back down at his phone, and sighs, “should I take M-6 or A1M? To get to Manchester, I mean?” 

Everyone looked at him genuinely confused by the question, but everyone seemed to agree on him taking the A1M. Isaac held his hand up and everyone looked to their captain with bated breath. “Take the A1M bruv, you ditching practice for some stupid reason?” 

Jamie shook his head, he would never consider you a stupid reason, he considered you a friend and was concerned about your wellbeing. Mental health had never been something he considered before. After coming back he realized he was projecting that he was mentally stable by being a jerk and that wasn't healthy, and he had seen the number that your mental state had been through. He was concerned that you might close back up on everyone from just that stupid video, and that scared him. “(y/n) isn't a stupid reason. Look, I’ll make it up to everyone- I'll run laps I'll take whatever anyone wants to throw at me-” he was cut off by Isaac's silent hand telling him to stop. 

“If it's for (y/n), you're good bruv. They're part of our team.” Isaac nods his head giving the all good to Jamie. 

Jamie stands there for a moment before realizing he had been standing still for way too long and in a moment of anxious energy gives Isaac a hug before running out the door, Isaac was frozen in place by this as the entire team looks at him in confusion and amusement. Some of the team started gossiping amongst themselves before continuing what they had been up to before. 

Sam smirked to himself and turned to Isaac saying in a light-hearted tone, “Perhaps Jamie has found a person to match him.” Collin nodded with a smile, “God save the queen.” Isaac nods, “and us.”

- By the time your tour had wrapped up, it was around 4 pm. You and Mr. Webbly, as you learned his name was, sat quietly in the stands just watching, there was no practice, no game, and the only other person out on the field was the groundmen taking care of the pitch. But besides the sound of the distant mower and the environment around you, all you had to hear was your breathing and your voice. The two of you had a bottle of water as you both contemplated whatever you had on your mind. You couldn't begin to think of what an old man such as Mr. Webbly had to contemplate, maybe what flowers to get his wife on his way home? You had learned he had a wife and she adored flowers. You on the other hand? You had so much you were thinking about. Between work and personal things you had been combatting your mind was racing and you could feel yourself tensing. 

“You know, I knew who you were the second you walked in the door,” Mr. Webbly's voice pulled you right out of your internal spiral. You turned to him, he didn't look over at you, only took a drink of his water amidst your own confusion. 

“You knew?” you ask more confused in your face than your voice. 

“Yep, hard to forget someone you used to see every Saturday and Wednesday defend the goal box as their life depended on it for three years. But also because you always would say hi on your way in the door every morning,” He turned to you and smiled. You may have never remembered him but he remembered you, honestly, it surprised you, you thought you'd become irrelevant that no one cared about you professionally like that. 

“I didn't realize-” 

“I didn't expect you to. You have been gone awhile, and you also were a busy young superstar of an athlete, can't remember everyone's names and faces.” Mr. Webbly smiled at you leaning back in his seat. “So, Why did you come back? And for a tour of all things?” he asked giving you a questioning look.

You sit with your hands between your knees and hunched over thinking. You had plenty of reasons to visit, but none seemed like good excuses now. “I needed the validation.” you at Mr. Webbly, “I needed the emotional validation to move on to the next part of my life. I've been avoiding myself and my recovery because I was… I'm scared that if I let it go then I won't be good enough as an athlete anymore.” you sigh and let out a dry chuckle to yourself, “Silly, isn't it? I needed permission to move on from an inanimate concept.” you gesture to the field. 

Mr. Webbly shakes his head, “Growing and healing takes many shapes, if you need permission to move on from Man City from the pitch itself. Then so be it. Everyone is different in their healing processes.” he smiles kindly at you. 

You nod standing up from your seat, “I'm not even sure I've made my mind up about what I want to do next though.”

Mr. Webbly chuckles, “You have. You just don't realize it, or you do and don't want to admit it. If you were not ready to be back on the pitch you wouldn't have been there, but you were and you came out here looking for closure. I say you've made your choice quite clearly.” he stands next to you and gestures to the pitch. “I may be an old man. But for prosperity's sake, want to kick the football on this pitch one last time? To really move on?” 

You think for a moment, all your fears about being and getting hurt flood your mind and you start to have a moment of deep dread, but you shake it off. You look to Mr. Webbly, and nod, “Yeah, except I prefer to be blocking the goalpost.” you smile and the two of you make your way onto the pitch. Since the groundskeeping team had finished their jobs a while ago now. The two of you walk to the far side of the pitch to the goal box, somewhere along the way Mr. Webbly manages to get his hands on a football and you make your way down to the box, walking under it you stare up at it, reminiscing about the last time you stood under this goal post. It brings a smile to your face. You turn back around to Mr Webbly who has set himself up for a simple free kick.

“Ready out there (y/n)?” 

You let out a deep sigh, “Ready when you are Mr. Webbly!” 

Mr Webbly nods and lines himself up before kicking the ball much harder and faster than you had expected the old man to do. You froze for a second seeing the ball flying right at you, if you dived to catch it you could tear something; if you dived to avoid it, you could tear something; if you stood there, then you defeated the purpose of this entire trip. You could feel yourself panicking as this ball was flying right towards your box. 

That's what happens when we treat mediocrity like they are a godsend. Their ego gets overinflated, and then they crash and burn. Just like (y/n).” 

Your focus snapped back, you were never mediocre, you were great, that's why you played for Man City, it's why you played period, to be the best. You deserve the ego you gave yourself, and you are allowed to be in pain but also allowed to heal. Refocusing on the moment you dove to your left to block or catch, whatever came first. You ended up catching the ball with your full body weight outside the line and held the ball to your chest. Laying on the ground. Your heart was racing and your breath ragged, but in the calmness, you started to laugh, and you laughed so hard you even started to cry. 

Eventually, Mr. Webbly stood over you with a smile and his hand extended out to you. “I think Man City has given you the Alright to move on for yourself.” 

You look up at him and take his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Webbly.” With his help, you are pulled to your feet, and you brush yourself off before handing back the ball. “I needed that.” 

Mr. Webbly takes the ball from you and smiles so proudly at the person you've become, “Anytime you want to visit, just visit. It doesn't have to be for some emotional growth.” 

You chuckle and nod, “I'll keep that in mind.” You reach for your phone in your bag as it has started buzzing. Frowning you take it out of your bag to see whos calling you, the contact that pops up is Jamies, to match the contact name of Jamie Fucking Tartt was a picture you took on Sunday morning while he was over, attempting to carry every extra blanket back to the wardrobe and him looking like Gus Gus from Cinderella when he had all the corn pieces under his chin, but it was Jamie with about 13 blankets folded neatly. You look to Mr. Webbly and smile sheepishly. “Gotta take this.” 

Mr. Webbly waves you off as you walk away, picking up the phone call, and heading back towards the entrance you came in at. “Hey Jamie-” you barely got two words out before he interrupted you. 

“I know you are going through something, and I dunno what it's like to have to retire early and not be able to cope, but we are friends, yah know? At least I think we are friends. I know you might not want to talk about it, but I want to be here for you.” Jamie was ranting, and you honestly felt kinda bad because you were the reason he felt like this. On the other hand, it was rather sweet how worked up he had gotten because he was scared of losing your friendship. 

“I know, and I'm sorry, Jamie. We can talk about this when I get back to Richmond, I'm kinda in Manchester-” you rounded the corner to Jamie staring you down from the entrance. 

“I know,” his voice echoing in the call and the open area, before putting his phone away, “is it weird i followed you cross the country to check on you?” his hands where in his pockets and he seemed to be avoiding eye contact. 

“Depends on your version of things, some would say its quite romantic,” you walk over to him and pull him into a tight hug, catching the poor man off guard. “I'm one of those few that it could go either way. Thank you for worrying about me Tartt.” 

Jamie by this point has gotten relatively used to your rare moments of affection, and hugs you back tightly, “anytime.” 

You two stay like this for only a few seconds, but it was the most peaceful few moments you've had in a long time, separating from Jamie you look at the time on your phone, “Welp we should get going to the station then, grab the train back to Darlington.” you start typing on your phone to purchase the tickets back. 

Jamie shakes his head, “No need,” he starts walking with his keys swinging around his index finger. 

“Don't tell me you drove the entire way out here; petrol is expensive as it is!” you call after him in a hurry. 

Jamie gives you a offended look before laughing, “and you think id make it here in one piece if i took the train? Id probably have one sock left on my body.” he laughs walking you two towards his car. 

Shaking your head, you climbed in once he had unlocked the doors for the two of you, and you bucked up in your seat, “oh poor Tartt not having anything left of him but one of his 50-pound socks.” 

Jamie rolls his eyes turning the engine over and pulled out of the parking spot heading back towards Richmond. “It's a wonder how you're still single.” 

—

The ride back to Richmond went as smoothly as one could expect with the Manchester traffic. You spent most of the drive chatting with Jamie and reading your book; if you were not holding something in your hand, it was dangerously close to holding a certain driver. However, you did fall asleep about halfway through the drive, tired from your emotional rollercoaster you still hadn't even told Jamie about yet. You needed to see Rebecca before you told anyone else around you what you had decided on. Once Jamie had pulled into the car park, he gently shook you to wake you. 

“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” His voice was soft, as if afraid waking you would result in you being startled. To his credit, it was a valid fear and concern. 

You are slow to wake up as its probably the best sleep you've had in a few weeks, but you do stir, glaring exhausted daggers at Jamie, “if it wasn't for the fact that its your car i would go back to bed.” you let out a loud yawn and stretch in the seat before looking around and sigh. “Alright thanks for the lift back.”

Jamie nods, “I can give you a ride home if you want?”

You think about it and shake your head, “ill be ok, i want to get my run in at some point today.” you gather your things before getting out of the car. “Thank you Jamie. I mean it.” you wave before heading into the building. You had made it to the base of the stairs to Rebecca's office seeing she was getting ready to leave, you call up to her, “Rebecca do you have a moment?”

Rebecca had been chatting with Higgins on her way out the door for the day and both stopped talking and leaned over the railing to see who was there, seeing you they both seemed surprised as they both knew you left. 

“Oh! Of course, come on then!” Rebecca headed back towards her office, “my apologies Leslie, do have a good night though,” she gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

Leslie nodded and smiled politely, “thank you, you too Rebecca, good night (y/n)” he wished you as he headed out the door and you wave him off heading up the stairs. 

As you enter Rebecca's office she is setting her coat and bag back down by her desk, she looks over at you with her pleasant smile, “how are you feeling, you left earlier but I hadn't had the chance to check on you.” 

“Ah, I'm alright.” You set your bag down on the floor and sit in the armchair quietly

“That's good, glad you're feeling better,” she grabs herself a glass of water, “so what is it you wanted to talk about?” 

You sit still, staring at your hands for a moment before taking a deep breath, “Rebecca, I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn down your offer to be a coach, assistant or otherwise.” you couldn't bring yourself to look at her out of shame. You didn't want to hurt your bosses feelings but you couldn't feel but that you let her down. 

“Oh.”

There was a long silence before the sound of the couch fabric rustling after a moment and Rebeca was now holding both of your hands in her own, comforting and firm, you managed to gain enough courage to look at her. Rebecca gave you a comforting smile, she was disappointed yes but there was understanding in her eyes. 

“Its alright (y/n), i wanted to see you come back to the pitch, not everyone's career trajectory after injury is the same, you're not Roy, you're not Chris Karma, you're you. And what ever you want to do next is your choice.” she gives you a gentle pat  on your hands, “i would just hate to see you leave.” 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “oh I'm not going anywhere yet!” you now hold her hands in yours with a strong grip that you barely realize you had, “that i can promise you but you'll have to prepare for that eventually.” 

Rebecca's eyebrow raises in interest and concern, “then what do you want to do (y/n)?”

You smile, a fire in your soul that you didn't realize you'd been missing for such a long time, determination and wanting. 

“Rebecca, I want to play again.” 

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[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 6/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: the night of your wedding and the month after word count. 2.5k cw. marriage pact au, fluff, suggestive a/n. if you want to be added to the taglist, please just send me ask!♡ and... i love cutie patootie kiyoomi •ᴗ• Masterlist

Your wedding has finally come to an end. The guests are saying their goodbyes to you and Kiyoomi. Most of the wedding guests are family and friends, although there are also some of your coworkers and Kiyoomi's teammates from MSBY and the national volleyball team. The only ones staying at the hotel are you, Kiyoomi, and both of your parents.

Before heading home, Komori, who also served as Kiyoomi’s groomsman, comes over to bid farewell. He raises both hands and exclaims, “You guys!” Then, he half-whispers, “I’m so happy you both decided to do this. Just go with the flow, eventually, everything will fall into place.” You furrow your brows, not quite understanding his words. “What??” you ask. But he brushes you off, “Anyway! Does this mean our meetups will be me third wheeling you both?!” You roll your eyes at this. Komori grins, “I’ll just invite my wife along!” Kiyoomi responds, “Of course, you can do that.” Komori cheers, “Woohoo!” You exchange glances with Kiyoomi and mouth to him, “I think he’s drunk.” Kiyoomi scoffs at that.

Next, Tami comes up to you both, hugging you and offering her congratulations. “You look so beautiful, I’m fucking crying, you know?!” she says. You laugh and thank her. She then turns to Kiyoomi, “Treat her right, okay?” emphasizing the word ‘treat’ while winking. You groan, “Stop, will you?!” She chuckles and hands you what seems to be a goody bag. As you observe it, you realize it’s a gift. You hug her once more. Tami adds, “Please open it and give me an honest review!” You squint your eyes at her words but then thank her again before she leaves.

After saying goodbye to a few more guests, the last ones are your bridesmaids. You thank them profusely and the four of you share a group hug before they finally leave. Now, it’s just you, Kiyoomi, and your parents.

Kiyoomi’s mother approaches you. “Take a good rest, okay? Both of you.” she smiles and squeezes Kiyoomi’s hand. Then, she turns to you and gently caresses the side of your head. “Okay?” she asks again. Kiyoomi nods. You smile reassuringly and answer, “Okay.” You look behind his mom and notice that both of your parents and Kiyoomi’s father are still sitting at the dinner table, waving their hands. You take Kiyoomi’s hand and approach them to excuse yourselves, which they nod enthusiastically. 

You and Kiyoomi will have a room together. For obvious reason. So, you head to your room together, carrying the wedding gifts you received. 

You step inside your hotel room, a spacious suite with a large living room. Your suitcases are already there. The living room is decorated with soft, warm lighting from the lamps, and rose petals are scattered around, giving it a romantic ambiance. You slip out of your heels and groan, feeling the relief in your feet. Kiyoomi follows behind you.

As you enter the room, you notice the rose petals on the bed and giggle. Kiyoomi looks at you quizzically. “What?” he asks. 

“Nothing. This is just so cute,” you reply, smiling at him.

He hesitates before saying, “You can take the room. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

You respond quickly, “Don’t be ridiculous!” You don’t want to make him sleep on the couch. There’s no harm in sleeping together on the bed. Unless… is it a problem for him? Leaning on the door, you ask, “Omi, is there a problem? The couch is too small for you. It’s better if I’m the one who sleeps there.”

Kiyoomi looks uncomfortable. “Please don’t. It’s just…” He seems hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “I just never share a bed with anyone.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “What? I thought you used to have sleepovers with Komori?”

Kiyoomi scratches his head, looking slightly embarrassed. “Uh, he kinda just sleeps in the other room.”

Okay. So, he really values his personal space. You sigh. “Okay, I’ll take the couch then.”

Kiyoomi shakes his head. “No. Please. I’ll take it.”

You insist, “Omi, seriously, look at that couch. It’s small. There’s no way you could sleep comfortably there!” 

The two of you argue for a few minutes until Kiyoomi finally sighs in resignation. “Okay. Let’s just sleep on the bed.”

You’re silent for a moment, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. “Omi, I don’t know. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

Kiyoomi gently takes your hand. “No, please. Let’s just sleep on the bed.”  His touch is reassuring, and you both walk inside the room. 

After that, you start to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas—a silky short-sleeve button-up and matching shorts. You wait your turn to use the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face, and apply skincare. A few moments later, Kiyoomi is done. Your eyes widen when you see him shirtless, wearing only his black shorts for sleep. Damn, his body is really the embodiment of years playing volleyball. You quickly look away, not wanting him to catch you ogling. 

“Oh. You’re done,” you say, your voice cracking slightly, making you want to slap your face.

“Yeah,” he answers.

When you come out of the bathroom, you thank God to see that he has put on a shirt. Before sleeping, you suggest opening the wedding gifts together in the living room, and he agrees. Most of the wedding gifts are small and cute home decor items, like candles and picture frames. You stack the gifts on the table, then glance at Kiyoomi, who is reading a note from one of the gifts with furrowed brows. 

You take a look at the gift and are surprised to see a white piece of lacy lingerie. Quickly snatching the box from his lap, you notice the bag. Of course, it’s Tami’s gift. Kiyoomi looks at you with a confused expression. 

“Can I see the note?” you ask.

He hands you the note obediently. It reads, ‘have fun strutting your stuff in this lingerie! pls give me a review of how he reacts!! xoxo’

You cover your face, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry. She’s always like that.”

Kiyoomi just stares at you. Shit. His lack of response leaves you flustered and unsure of what to say next.

After that embarassing moment, you finish unpacking the last box and head to the bed. As you lay down and take your side of the bed, you feel a tad bit awkward, never having been in this position with him before. You glance at Kiyoomi, who is lying on his back with both hands on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. Your eyes catch the glint of the wedding ring on his finger, reminding you of a question you've been meaning to ask.

"Hey," you say softly.

He turns his head towards you. "Hm?"

"I've been wondering, when did you buy the ring?"

"Huh?" he responds, sounding slightly confused.

"The wedding ring that you gave me when we were planning this last month."

"Oh. I think around New Year's," he replies.

"Like, exactly on the 1st of January?" you ask, curious.

He hums in confirmation.

"Don’t tell me you bought it as soon as the reminder you set appeared?" you laugh incredulously.

"I did, actually," he admits.

You laugh, "You’re really something else."

"What if I’d been dating someone else?" you tease him.

"No, you weren’t," he says with certainty.

"What? Don’t be so sure! You don’t know!" you start to playfully kick him, annoyed at his confidence.

"I do know for sure. I asked Komori. That’s when I told him about our plan," he reveals.

You recall Komori inquiring about your love life when Kiyoomi wasn't around. You chuckle at his response and glance at the ring on his finger. "Can I see that?"

He notices you looking at his ring and moves closer, extending his hand to you. You compare his ring with yours, seeing how perfectly they match.

"These rings are beautiful," you say, admiring the way they catch the moonlight streaming in through the open curtains.

"You know, I kinda miss your mom. It’s been a while since we saw each other," you mention, turning your head to him and catching him already looking at you.

"I know, she always asks about you. She really likes you," Kiyoomi replies.

"And you never told me that she asks about me." You squint your eyes at him playfully.

He actually smiles, "Yeah, sorry about that."

After a bit more conversation, you both start to feel sleepy. You roll onto your respective sides of the bed, having some distance in between. Only to find both of you sleeping so close to each other in the morning. 

It’s been about a month since your marriage, and all of your belongings have been moved to Kiyoomi's apartment. You have a room for yourself, bigger than your previous one. Apart from moving out, one of the striking changes you feel is how people react to you. The news of your marriage has spread, and you can see it on social media. Not fond of being the center of attention, you made your Instagram private, avoiding unknown comments on your posts. At work, people from different divisions also try to peek into your room, whisper as you pass by, or stare at you for too long in the elevator. It’s a bit unsettling, but you know it’ll pass.

Despite the external commotion, adjusting to life with Kiyoomi has been pleasant. Living with him feels like having the best roommate you could ask for, making you sometimes forget that you're actually married to him. Every morning, you wake up around the same time. His apartment has two bathrooms, so there’s never a problem there. True to his nature, Kiyoomi is exceptionally clean and diligent in keeping the apartment tidy. While you’re not messy, you’re definitely not as meticulous as he is. His cleaning skills are a welcomed part of the chore division.

You take on most of the cooking, though not all the time. Occasionally, you both decide to order takeout. The idea of you cooking is mostly because you want healthier food consumed for both of you. You always ask about his diet plan and adjust the meals accordingly, constantly seeking his honest feedback. So far, there have been no complaints; he finishes everything on his plate.

Sundays are your designated grocery shopping day for the month. The arrangement for who pays for groceries has been completely ignored by Kiyoomi. Despite your attempts to take turns paying, he insists on covering the cost, leading to arguments at the cashier if you don't back down.

You’ve also let go of all your side jobs, giving you more free time than you’ve ever had. Kiyoomi, on the other hand, has been busy with his schedule. The volleyball season is nearing, and he’s been practicing a lot and also doing a few interviews with his team.

Tonight is Friday night, and you’re sitting in the living room, reading a novel recommended by a friend but haven’t read it until now because you used to be so hectic with work. Dinner is already prepared, and you’re feeling relaxed when you hear the apartment door open, signaling Kiyoomi's return.

"Hey," you greet him with a smile as he walks in.

"Hey," he replies hoarsely. Upon closer inspection, you notice that he looks paler than usual, his cheeks are flushed, and he seems more exhausted than ever. You immediately get up and approach him as he heads to the kitchen to wash his hands.

"Are you okay?" you ask with concern.

"I'm fine, just a bit of a cough," he replies, but you observe his forehead glistening with sweat despite the chill in the room. Instinctively, you press your hand to his cheek, making his eyes widen.

"No, you’re not. You’re burning, Omi," you say firmly.

"I can’t be sick; tomorrow is a practice match," he frowns, looking frustrated with himself.

"But you can’t be playing like this," you counter. "Let's get you more comfortable."

You guide him to the couch, feeling the heat radiating from his body. Heading back to the kitchen, you prepare some tea with honey and lemon, knowing the soothing warmth always helps when you are sick. While the kettle boils, you grab a bottle of water and bring it to him. "You need to stay hydrated," you reminded him gently, helping him take a few sips. Back in the kitchen, you scoop the food you made earlier. Luckily, you made fish soup. It will feel nice for his sore throat.

Returning with the tea and a couple of fever-reducing tablets, you instruct, "Here, drink this and take these." He complies, too tired to argue, and you watch as he slowly sips the warm liquid, the steam rising to soothe his congested sinuses. 

You sit beside him, holding his hand and gently rubbing circles on his skin with your thumb. "Please, just rest, okay? If you’re lucky, you could be healthy by Monday. But if you keep forcing yourself, this could get worse." He just stares weakly at you, saying nothing.

As the night wears on, you take him to his room. Realizing you’ve never been inside his room before, you take in the tidy, mostly plain decor with black as the dominant color and a few brown accents. Volleyball gear is organized in the corner, and his desk holds pictures of his winning moments in matches, including a photo of you, him, and Komori at your high school graduation. You smile at the memory.

You make sure the blankets are adjusted properly as he mumbles, "I need to get better," frustration clear in his voice.

"You'll get there. Just rest now. Your body needs time to heal," you reassure him.

He mumbles something you can’t quite hear, so you ask, "Hm?"

"I want to practice," he repeats. You giggle at his stubbornness, noting that he’s more talkative than usual, likely due to the fever. He continues, "I want to practice and train, paying attention and succeeding until the day I play my last game."

You realize how dedicated Kiyoomi is to his work, which explains why he is one of the best volleyball players in the country. You’ve always admired his dedication and felt proud of his progress since the day you met him. Feeling a surge of warm emotion, you take his hand and gently run your fingers through his hair.

"Omi, you’ll get better. Accidents happen no matter how well you prepare; there’ll always be something unexpected," you say softly. He stares at you weakly as you continue, "Please, just rest for now. Let me take care of you, and let’s hope the fever will subside soon."

He closes his eyes as you run your hand through his hair. Then, he squeezes your hand and says, "Okay."

"Okay," you echo, smiling at him. "I’m always so proud of you, Omi," you add, your voice filled with sincerity. You both hold hands and stare at each other for a while. Until you say, "I’ll let you sleep. I put the water here." You get up, pressing your hand one last time to his forehead to check his fever. He nods at you in acknowledgment.

In the morning after you wake up, the first thing you do is check on him. Tiptoeing into his room, you feel relieved and glad to see that his fever has started to subside, and his breathing seems more relaxed.

Taglist: @wolffmaiden @yunskook