#fuck i hate finals season and also having to move back home

[sp4rrowdoll]

I lived!!!!

[bad268]

Same to You

Aftermath Affair Pt. 5/Finale

(Oscar Pisatri X Reader + Ex! Lando Norris X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope, happy 5 years! (So this was supposed to come out on Saturday last week but I fucked up the schedule lol)

Warnings: VERY heavy use of language and violence (reader gets trapped between Lando and a wall and reader shoves Lando against the wall), cheating, Song referenced: Same to You by The Vamps

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1576

Chapter Summary: First race of the season, first race after the breakup, and first race hard launching. What could go wrong? Oh right! A teammate!

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 4

~~(^Both from Pinterest)

Six months. Six amazing months later, and you were ready to go back on the track. Oscar was also so different compared to Lando and how he wanted you at the track. Lando wanted you there to keep up appearances. You had to dress the part, and despite how uncomfortable you were, it was the only way Lando would agree to have you in his garage.

Nope, not Oscar. He wants you to have fun, do whatever you want, and take you anywhere you want in the paddock. When you first got together, he asked you almost every week if you were interested in attending a race. He always said he could get you a pass, just give him the word and he’d do anything for you.

This time was the Australian Grand Prix. Season opener, one of your favorite tracks, and Oscar’s home race no less. You wanted to be there for this. You let him know plenty of time in advance, and Oscar may or may not have already gotten you a pass, hoping you would agree to go to his home race.

Now, being on the track, you never wanted to leave again. Whether it was the atmosphere or vibe of Australia or not, you were feeling the buzz around the paddock. You wanted to always be a part of it. You were thriving in it!

Given that it was Thursday, you had walked in with Oscar’s hand tightly grasped in yours, but he had to go for the media, panels, and interviews. He said you were free to go practically anywhere, and he showed you around the McLaren Hospitality and his driver’s room before his PR manager came calling for him. He said he would have his phone on him the whole time just in case you needed him or got lost.

You found a little corner table on the second floor of the hospitality building that faced a large window, overlooking the pitlane. You grabbed a small plate of food and your favorite drink as you sat comfortably in the corner and opened a book. You should have known the peace would not have lasted long.

“Hey, what’s up?” A voice broke your concentration. Looking up, and of course, it was Lando.

“Hi Lando,” You greeted with a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing much, how about you?”

“Same,” Lando replied quickly, pulling out the second seat from the table to take it. “I heard you moved on. How’s that?”

“It’s going great,” You smiled a little more laid back, thinking about Oscar. You put a bookmark in your book as you set it down, thinking this could be a kindhearted conversation. “He’s amazing.”

“I think you’re lying,” Lando smirked as he leaned forward on the table, his face just inches away from yours. You looked at him confused, which had him chuckling ominously. “I have to smile really. You packed up your things and drove for miles, but you really couldn’t get that far away from me.”

“What the hell are you saying?” You scoffed in disbelief as you leaned back as far as humanly possible from him. “Are you trying to say that I’m with Oscar to be closer to you?”

“All I’m saying is, would someone who hated my guts willingly be with someone so closely related to me?” Lando teased as he chuckled more. He leaned back and laughed a little louder, garnering a few stares. “Be honest, you miss me already. Does he love like I do? Touch like I do? Does he hold you like me? Make you feel free?”

“You can shut up, Lando,” You seethe, moving to gather all of your things in haste. 

“You’re hurrying because I’m right,” Lando gloated as he stood up as well and moved to follow you when you grabbed your things to make a run toward Oscar’s driver’s room. Unfortunately, Lando decided to put his body between you, and the only door you knew would take you to Oscar’s room. “Open your eyes and you will see that everything you do with Oscar, you wish it was with me.”

“You’re lying to make yourself feel better,” You pressed as you tried to go around him. He just blocked your body and turned to cage you between him and the wall. “Lando, let me go.”

“Babe, does it feel the same to you?” Lando whispered as he leaned in and breathed against your ear. You had to bite back the gag as he leaned his head down to your shoulder as his breath fanned over your neck. “Tell me, does this feel the same to you?”

“No, it feels better,” You hinted, knowing you meant one thing, and Lando took it another. You felt him chuckle against your skin as he dropped a hand from the wall to rest on your waist and you knew that was your chance. 

You grabbed his wrist, spun his arm around, and pushed him against the wall, locking him in place. You pushed his head against the wall to keep him in his place as you ranted.

“Lando Norris, did you ever think I would stoop that low to get back with you? I’m not the one who fucked up here!” You raised your voice a bit which gained attention from some of the McLaren staff. One of which you recognized as Oscar’s PR manager, who took off, probably to find Oscar. “You were the one who cheated on me. You were the one that ruined a 7-year long relationship because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. And to make it worse, you introduced her to other drivers as your girlfriend as if I never existed!”

“Ok listen to me-” He tried to cut you off.

“No!” You shouted, “I’m done listening to you! Oscar is the most caring, attentive, and supportive person I know. You have nothing on him. He is everything to me, and you are nothing. Do you understand me, Lando?”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Lando mumbled in a mocking way and that just pissed you off even more. 

“Oh, almost like forcing your teammate to endure all the sounds that come with cheating?” You mocked back with a large smile. “Yeah, you wanna talk about harsh, take a look in the fucking mirror. You have always said shit to me about anything and everything I did. Oscar encourages me to be myself. Here, I’ll give you this, I’m sorry that when we first got together, I didn’t have a backbone. I can say it now. You hate the way that I walk? Shit outta luck. You hate the way that I talk? Get over it. You hate the way I dress? Fuck off! The world doesn’t revolve around you! I don’t revolve around you! It’s not my fault you cheated on me with a sponsor no less, and it’s not my fault that you can’t accept it. Go bury your sorrows in Ava Small’s pussy for all I care.”

With that, you gave him one last shove and turned around, taking a deep breath before facing the crowd. Most of the McLaren crew were smiling at you and giving you reassuring nods, but one in particular captured your attention. Oscar Piastri, your knight in shining armor, stood a little closer than the rest of the group as if he were ready to jump in for your defense at any given second. His face was in awe as you slowly walked up to him, holding out your hand. That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts as he shook his head a bit and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to you. At this moment, Lando Norris was the furthest thing from your mind as you gazed at Oscar. He pecked your lips lightly before leaning his forehead against yours.

“That was hot,” Oscar whispered as he peppered kisses around your face while you giggled and gently pushed him away. He finally stopped, wrapped his arms around you and left one last kiss on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Your therapy’s been working.”

“It’s not just therapy,” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “It’s you. I wouldn’t have any of the confidence to stand up to him without you.”

“Don’t discredit yourself,” He played off, “You’ve come a long way in a year.”

“And a lot of that is thanks to you,” You pressed as you poked Oscar’s cheek before leaving your hand resting on his cheek. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“I have an idea,” Oscar whispered as he pulled away slightly. You looked to the side to see all of the McLaren crew pull out their phones, and when you looked back over to Oscar, he wasn’t where you left him. No, he was kneeling before you, holding out an unopened ring box. “I’ve been thinking-”

“If this is a proposal, yes,” You replied excitedly, not needing to hear anything or see the ring. If Oscar had a whole speech planned (which he did!), he could share it in private since you two would more likely prefer to keep that moment between you two. 

“I really worried for nothing," Oscar joked as he opened the box and gently slipped the ring on your left ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Just like you and Oscar.

~

Tags- @barcelonaloverf1life

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Fourteen

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: YEEE FUCKING HAW WE'RE BACK AND LONGER THAN EVER. FEAST, MY PRETTIES.

Word count: 10k+

Chapter Fourteen:

Well, Arlo. It seems the Greyhounds have actually… done something right?

I know, Chris. If you’d told me they’d be in this position, not even in the Premier League, yet through to the FA Cup final, then well! I’d have eaten my hat!

But Arlo, you don’t own any hats. 

There’s lots that you don’t know about me, Chris. 

Oh. Well, I’d like to find out more one day, Arlo. 

Maybe one day, Chris. Maybe one day… But, moving forward– it seems AFC Richmond’s new coach, badboy Roy Kent, has well and truly shared the fabled ‘Roy Kent Effect’ once more. 

That’s certainly true, Arlo! Kent and his teammates have never worked so well, even when he was on the pitch next to them. I think this is the start of a blossoming season for the Greyhounds. 

I agree, Chris. So, you heard it here, folks. AFC Richmond are off to Wembley!

A few weeks after Roy’s return, you found yourself feeling the love. When you came to, you were screaming your head off. Everything was a giant blur of those familiar reds and blues, so you knew you were home. The locker room still looked the same as always, but the players within were so drastically separate from how they were a week ago that you could hardly fucking believe it. 

AFC Richmond were going to Wembley for the FA Cup final. The only downside– they were against Manchester fucking City. You weren’t about to dampen their joy, though. You suspected they all knew exactly what was at stake, but they deserved this. They deserved to feel like winners. 

Sam bound over to you as soon as he could. His embrace brought you back down to earth, and you hugged him back so tightly that it was a miracle neither of you passed out. “God, I am so proud of you,” you whispered into his shoulder. 

He reciprocated by squeezing you once more, before you tugged apart. “You still bring us good luck. You are part of the reason we have come this far.” He spoke so earnestly that you couldn’t stop your throat from drying up. 

You swallowed painfully, utterly overwhelmed. Sam went one step further, however, when he stepped onto one of the benches. “Hey, guys! Guys!” he yelled, bringing the sound in the room right down. Every player, and coach alike, turned to him and listened intently. “We wouldn’t have gotten to this position without the help of every single person in this room.” Sam looked down at you then, smiling like the golden sun. “Thank you, everyone! We’re Richmond till we die!” 

The room erupted into roars that no jungle could replicate. You soaked up their cheers, their happiness, their togetherness, and as you did you sensed someone close by: Roy. 

He stood in the doorway of the manager’s office, wearing a tracksuit that donned Richmond’s logo. He’d fallen into his coach position as if he’d always been here– assertively, strongly, respectfully. When you glanced around the room and saw him, you had to stop just for a moment to take him in. You smiled at him, even though he wasn’t looking at you. When he eventually caught your eye, you quickly looked beyond him, acting as if you hadn’t been eyeing him up for the better half of a minute. 

Roy liked it when you looked like this– happy, content, in the middle of a bustling and buzzing room yet perfectly fine with just existing and not speaking. You were good like that, good at listening and observing. You were also good at talking when you got to it, but Roy’s initial annoyance whenever you opened your mouth had quickly disappeared after a few weeks into your placement at the club. That sentiment had only grown over the past year and a half.

Jesus– eighteen months. It’d really gone fast, hadn’t it? Eighteen months, and you’d grown into your talent and only increased your work ethic (even if you secretly hated your current position). Eighteen months, and Roy had played his last game of football ever, but coached his first professional game since. 

Roy leaned on the doorframe of the manager’s office and crossed his arms. Dani had his hands wrapped around your neck lovingly from behind. The two of you swayed back and forth as the team continued rejoicing. Slowly, you latched your fingers onto Dani’s forearms and held them tightly. Roy knew what that felt like, having you close. He’d been there with you once, when it was impossible to keep your hands off each other in a crowded room like this. 

There was another thing that hadn’t happened in eighteen months. You and Roy. Roy and you. In truth, you’d thought about things more than he had. This was amongst one of the first times he’d allowed himself to think of you together, properly, and what it could have been like. 

He thought back to November, almost six months ago now, when he’d told you that he had no intention of fucking things up. To do that, you and Roy couldn’t happen– wouldn’t happen. 

Roy frowned when he thought about how awful he’d been, not even during that conversation, but afterwards. He hadn’t put up any boundaries, had continued acting the same as he always was around you. It wasn’t kind; he knew that as soon as he’d seen your face on Boxing Day, practically scrambling to get the fuck out of his house. 

The bad thing was, however, that Roy didn’t want to stop. Sure, he’d said things would never happen, and you’d graciously accepted that fate and tried to move forward over these past few months like any respectful and decent person would. But, he hadn’t. He’d said the words, but not followed them. 

Roy huffed to himself, only now realising– he was a fucking idiot. 

This was Roy’s more prominent disease, it seemed: delayed on-set realisation of selfishness. DOROS for short. Maybe he’d always known, but had pushed it all away in favour of keeping you close. Maybe he’d always known, but innately knew that he had never wanted to cut things off with you, so simply acted like he’d never fucking said a thing. 

Mentally, Roy added a new to-do box to his list. 

Fix things with you. 

He would. Oh, he would. 

“Roy!” Ted’s familiar accent called from behind him. Roy turned around and looked down at his fellow coach, sat before him with his feet on his desk. Beard was the same, and the two of them looked like peas in a pod. “How’re your first few weeks going?” 

Roy balled his fists instinctually. “Good. I think.”

“Well, you gosh darn thunk correctly!” Ted burst, jumping out of his chair in excitement. “And now, I need your help once again. This match next week, the big one.” He stopped directly in front of Roy, chin to chin. “How do we keep the guys like this?”

This meaning the ruckus behind him. Joyful, strong, ready to fight with all they’ve got even if the outcome isn’t in their favour. Roy knew that feeling well, having felt it too many times to count. 

He sighed. “It’ll be tough. Come tomorrow, they’ll all start to spiral.”

“How so?”

Roy shrugged. “It’s the hope that kills you.” 

Ted’s face soured immediately. “I don’t like your sayings over here.” 

“Yeah, well…” Roy turned around to look at the guys. “It’s easier than being fucking disappointed.” 

“Screw that!” Ted suddenly exploded. He grabbed Roy’s shoulders and urged him to look in his eyes. “We’re stopping that today. What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you look at those guys right there, acting like that?” Ted asked. 

Roy swivelled his head back around to look at them. “I… I dunno?” he said. 

Ted squeezed his shoulders abruptly. “Yes, you do! Say it. Say it!”

“All-fucking-right!” Roy yelled. “Her!” He pointed at you without hesitating. 

As if on cue, you laughed. You scrunched your eyes shut in happiness, giggling as Dani placed his chin atop your head. He squeezed you tighter, and you giggled even harder, gripping his arms stronger than before. Sam and Colin laughed opposite them, still overcome with the buzzing adrenaline of the win. They all were. You perpetuated that feeling, made the guys want it even more so you could join them at times like this. 

Ted moved next to Roy, looking at the same scene. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Ted whispered. “You’ve never been more right in your life.”

You had to suck in a deep breath as your laughter dissipated. Your lungs were empty of all reserves, but you’d never felt better about it. Dani gently removed himself from you to head towards Richard and Zoreaux. As he did, the most unexpected thing happened. 

Someone tapped you on the shoulder, and when you turned to greet them with a glowing smile, you stopped short. Jamie Tartt stood before you. “Hey,” he said. 

You kept things light as you perked your brow at him quizzically. “Hi.” You smiled. “Congratulations.”

Jamie laughed awkwardly, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Thanks very much.” You’d never tire of his accent, secretly. You were fond of Mancunian. “Listen, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh– sure.”

“Privately,” he added. 

You glanced around the locker room quickly, before nodding once. Jamie led you out to the corridor and beyond. He opened the door to the kit room and held it for you as you entered, then followed you inside and shut the door behind him. 

You didn’t know where to place yourself. Stood in the centre of the room, overwhelmed by the scent of soggy feet, you turned to the striker and waited. Jamie stood opposite you with the same feeling of being utterly out of place. 

“What can I do for you, Jamie?” you started, getting the ball rolling.

“I know we’re not really… er, close.” He clutched his hands together awkwardly, almost unable to meet your eye. “But I know how much you mean to the club and that.”

You huffed amusedly. “Sure,” you agreed. 

“Which is why I know you won’t laugh at me when I ask you this.” Tartt finally met your eye, and you were taken aback. Whatever was on his mind you now knew was a big deal. I mean, it had to be for him to approach you like this, surely?

“Okay,” you said sturdily. “Lay it on me.”

“It’s Roy.” You held your breath as he said it. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Jamie would come to you about a Roy problem, yet here he was. “He won’t coach me. Not like the others, you know. I know I was a dick in the past, for lack of a better word, and that Roy was on the receiving end sometimes–”

“All the time,” you said, matter of factly. Jamie subtly exploded.

“Okay, fine– all the fucking time– but I’m back now, and I need a fucking coach. I want him to teach me the same way he teaches Sam and Isaac and the rest.”

“But, you don’t know how to ask him,” you said your thoughts out loud. 

Jamie nodded quickly, agreeing with you tenfold. “I know he’d tell me to fuck off.”

“Well, of course he’s going to do that.” You almost chuckled from how right he was in saying so. “But, I see where you’re coming from.” Your mind spiralled down different routes, unknowing of where you came into this equation. You could tell Jamie what to say, but you knew what Roy would reply simply because it was Tartt, not you. “Why come to me, though?”

Jamie’s face squished questioningly, like he couldn’t understand why you hadn’t put two and two together just yet. “Roy fucking listens to you.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh now. “Oh, please. Yeah, he listens. But whether or not he decides to do what I say is a completely different ball game.”

Jamie reached out to you suddenly and gripped your shoulders in desperation. “Please. I know I’m making up for lost time and bad behaviour and whatever else I did to the guys, or Lasso, or Roy, but I need to be useful here. I want to be useful here.” 

You regarded him thoughtfully then. It was hard not to take him into account when he was like this, bearing his soul to a person who had never connected with him beforehand. Reaching out to you was a shot in the dark for him, but he’d done it anyway because he wanted to succeed. It was commendable, when you put it all into perspective. 

You decided upon a middle ground. “I’ll plant the seed in his head to let you in, alright?” 

Jamie let out a clear sigh of relief when you agreed. “Well, fuck– thank you.”

“But!” you continued. “You need to go to him yourself. You need to apologise, and tell him exactly what you said to me. It’s Roy, so he’ll make it a fucking nightmare and will probably be childish and petty and whatever fucking else that grown man is capable of…” As you rambled, the cogs in Jamie’s brain finally understood the whole story– you liked him, didn’t you? “...but he’ll do it eventually. He has to. He’s a coach now, and if you’re here, you deserve to be coached properly.”

Jamie squealed and smiled at the same time, his eyes ablaze with boyish resemblance. He squeezed your shoulders affectionately. “I knew coming to you would work out. I just knew it.”

You scoffed in amusement. “Don’t make it a regular thing,” you joked. “There are only so many strings I can pull with Roy.”

Jamie raised his brows assumptively. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“What do you mean by that?” All your amusement reluctantly trailed off alongside your words.

“Well,” Jamie started. His grin dropped instantly. “I mean– don’t make me fucking say it. You already know, don’t you?” 

“Know what?” you pressed. 

“That Roy, y’know. That Roy–” Jamie flailed his arms around like a flapping seagull. “He– y’know…” 

You squinted at him. “Are you speaking some kind of secret footballer language that common people like me don’t fucking understand?”

“He likes you!” Jamie finally let out. 

“Oh.” You stepped back. Jamie’s arms dropped to his sides. “Stop fucking talking now.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t see it?” Jamie looked you dead in the eye, but all you were capable of doing was looking away from embarrassment. “Well, you’re more stupid than I fucking took you for.” 

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “There’s no need for that shit when I’m digging you out of the mess you fucking made last season.” 

He raised his arms up in understanding. “Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad.” You let out your own sigh of relief when you realised the conversation was over. 

You and Jamie headed back to the locker room soon after. As he made his way towards the guys, you stuck to the outer limits of the cinder block walls. Roy was still in the manager's office, his back turned as he spoke to Ted and Beard. You didn’t want to intrude, so you made the decision to cut back into the corridor once more; not to leave, but to wait until the guys were ready for a pint. 

You slowly trudged down the familiar corridor that you used to traverse every fucking day. Past the locker room, you approached the gym. Beyond that, your old office still sat. Keeley had recently upgraded to a larger room deeper underneath the Dogtrack, however, so the usual array of pink pillows and her cheetah statue were nowhere to be seen. 

You entered through the half open door and walked straight into darkness. The walls were the same, just pinker. The desk was the same, just empty. Whenever you visited this office space after time away you felt the same pull to return. You didn’t care if it had no windows; you’d managed to make it home for nearly a year without any hiccups. 

God, you wanted to be back here. Everyone knew it, even Rebecca, but you daren’t take favours. You would never. 

A small knock sounded from the door, and you turned back quickly. “Ready to g–? Oh!” you exclaimed. You’d been expecting Sam or Roy, but were met with the still slightly unfamiliar face of Nate. “Sorry, Nate. I thought you were someone else.”

“That’s alright,” he said, smiling. “May I come in?” 

“Oh,” you spluttered. “Yes, of course. This isn’t my office anymore.”

He stepped inside. “No, no, it’s not, is it?” he said, and the tone of his voice was erring on patronising. You opted to ignore it, knowing that he wouldn’t have meant it that way. Surely?

The silent pause that flittered between you was very awkward, there was no denying it. It wasn’t that you’d meant to not really know him, but your circle at the club had seemed to travel in one certain direction that you hadn’t been able to control. The guys, Ted, Roy, Rebecca. Not Beard, not Nate. You didn’t mean anything by it innately. 

If anything, you were happy that Nate was making himself known to you. You’d love to get to know him more– or more than what you barely knew of him from your time at the club. 

“What a great game today, wasn’t it?” you started. 

“Oh yes, fantastic game,” said Nate. 

“And that thing–” You mimed what had happened on the pitch earlier, which happened to be a middle finger of all things. “That all four of you did to Jamie. Classic, really fucking brilliant.”

“Oh yes, the good old middle finger.” Nate copied you in miming what he’d done less than an hour ago. All four coaches had signalled to Tartt what needed to be done, and that signal happened to be swearing at him full-frontally. Four middle fingers had stood up on end, and Tottenham didn’t know what had hit them when Tartt managed to make a goal from just beyond the halfway line. 

“You were all absolutely brilliant!” you exclaimed. “I’ve been seeing you in the paper as well, you know? The whole Wonderkid thing.”

Nate smiled forcefully. “I definitely said Wunderkind.”

“Either way, it’s fantastic you’re getting that recognition.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Nate said, taking your compliment graciously; or so you thought. “So, here’s the thing.” He plunged right into his words like he’d had them on standby the entire time. 

“Go on,” you urged him happily.

“You can’t come to Wembley.” 

“What?” you asked, not fully absorbing his words.

Nate stopped smiling. He looked at you sternly, or like you were akin to dirt on his shoe, or whatever else. Your smile turned to a frown instantly. 

“You can’t come to Wembley,” Nate repeated. 

Those five words hit you like a tonne of bricks. You didn’t understand what he was saying, or what he meant. For a second, you thought he’d got his words mixed up, maybe, but even if they were un-muddled they wouldn’t make sense at all. 

“I don’t understand what you mean,” you said smally, feeling multiple degrees of hurt even though you had no explanation. 

“Okay,” Nate replied. “I’ll spell it out for you.” He raised his chin and sucked in a deep and confident breath, “You cannot come to Wembley for the FA Cup final.”

You still didn’t understand, but you understood Nate’s words fully. Why he was saying them, though, you had no idea. Perhaps you hadn’t misinterpreted his patronising tone upon entering the room, but had picked it up perfectly. You didn’t know Nate enough to get mad– properly mad– but your blood boiled as you looked at him. 

“Why not?” you asked, swallowing sullenly to try and keep the butterflies in your gut at bay. 

Nate smiled. You hated that he smiled. It felt grimy and wrong. “Roy, Ted and Beard seem to think that you keep the team happy, and maybe you do. But, this is the fucking FA Cup final. They can’t afford any distractions, and you.” He looked you up and down like a blight. You’d never been looked at like that before in your life. “You are a distraction. You may think you’re helping, but the guys need clear minds and ready heads. You’re a distraction towards all of that.”

You laughed abruptly, at a loss for words. Nate’s smile turned to something much more condescending. Gently, he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. You froze on the spot. 

“It’s just better if you sit this one out, alright? Don’t worry, the guys won’t miss you too much.” 

You opened your mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was air. Your lungs collapsed beneath your chest, your heart pumped blood uncomfortably and incredibly fast into your limbs, your organs, your gut. It hurt. It really hurt. 

Nate squeezed your shoulder. You stiffened further. “Good talk. Let’s catch up after the final.” He removed his hand from you and left promptly, leaving you in the darkned seclusion of your old office. 

Realisation hit you like a double-decker bus. Nate had always been like this a bit, hadn’t he? Not before he became a coach, but afterwards, certainly. A shift had cemented within him as soon as he’d donned the Richmond jacket and owned a desk spot next to Ted and Beard. The whistle around his neck clung to him like a trophy of his authority. 

Nathan Shelley was not a nice coach. Good, smart, intelligent, but not nice. 

You wondered if Ted knew. You wondered if Beard knew. You wondered if Roy knew. If they did, you knew they’d do something about it, so perhaps not. Innately, despite the weak way your chest scraped air through your crippled lungs, you hoped it was just you that he had gripes with. You hoped he wasn’t like this to any of the guys themselves. Just the thought alone made you angry beyond belief. 

No one on the team deserved to be treated the way that Nate had just treated you. 

You sucked in a sharp breath quickly, feeling the beginnings and endings of tears behind your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not for this. If you twisted this entire ordeal on its head then it was borderline comical. Not to toot your own horn, but you knew that if any of the guys in the locker room next door found out about this, then they’d take your side. 

That was exactly why you couldn’t tell them. You weren’t about to be the reason that AFC Richmond’s managerial team broke apart. They’d come so far already after relegation. You couldn’t– wouldn’t– fuck that all up. 

Quietly, you swallowed away your pride and your feelings and left your old office. Silently, you headed back to the locker room and entered timidly. 

“There she is,” Roy muttered to Sam as you entered. As you approached him, you realised he’d picked up your bag and slung it over his shoulder to save you holding it yourself. “Ready to go?” he asked, face to face. 

Your eyes hit his. You struggled to keep everything at bay, but brushed it off as best as you possibly could. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Here.” You gestured to your bag on his shoulder, but Roy twisted himself away from you. 

“I’ve got it.” Roy frowned slowly, a sour feeling sprouted in his gut. “You alright?” 

You waved him off. “I’m fine. I just don’t feel all that good, if I’m being honest.” 

“Hm.” He reached out confidently and laid his knuckles against your forehead. Roy had done this to you many times. You were used to it, but still allowed yourself to silently indulge in his touch. Besides, you needed this. He didn’t know, but you needed him right now. “You do feel a bit hot, actually,” he said lowly. “Wanna skip the pub and go home?” 

Gently, you nodded. Roy’s hand dropped to your shoulder, the same one that Nate had held just minutes before. Quickly, you placed your hand over his. “Yes, please.” 

Roy stayed still. Something was wrong, he knew it. There was this look in your eye that coincided with you not feeling well, but that wasn’t all. The way you were standing; slumped, arms wrapped around yourself, as if you were desperately trying to make yourself smaller, invisible. The hand that rested atop his own didn’t feel strong. This wasn’t you, the real you.

Roy nodded at you in understanding. “Okay,” he whispered. Roy turned to the rest of the room and addressed the team. “You’ll have to catch us next week for drinks, boys.”

The collective groan that descended across the room made you feel awful, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

Roy sensed your unease. “Hey!” he yelled. “That’s fucking enough of that. Get some sleep after your well-deserved booze break, and I’ll see you all bright and early for practice on Monday!”

“Yes, coach!” 

You and Roy drove home in silence. Not the uncomfortable kind, but Roy could tell something was on your mind. It was rare that either of you evaded the weird sixth sense you had about the other now. Roy could read you as clear as he’d read your article about him. 

He stopped his Jeep outside your apartment building and killed the engine. You gathered your belongings and shot him a quick smile. “Thanks.” You went to leave. 

“Wait.” In one click, Roy had locked your door from the driver’s side door. “Tell me what’s wrong or I’m not letting you out.”

You huffed, slumping back into your chair in acceptance. “Really?”

“Really,” Roy repeated.

“This is childish, Roy.”

“I don’t fucking care. One moment you were happy as a daisy, and the next you look like you’ve landed on death’s fucking door.”

You sighed in exasperation. “Oh, for fucks sake.”

Roy twisted himself to face you more head on. He crossed his arms and waited patiently. “Go on.”

You rolled your eyes, wishing this to be over. “I’m on my period.”

Roy pointed at you quickly. “Don’t try and catch me out with a feminine problem that you assume men don’t want to hear about. I have a fucking sister, and I know all about how crazy her cycle made her. This isn’t that.”

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, raising your voice slightly. Your stress levels had grown exponentionally in the last minute and a half. You could feel your rapid heartbeat beneath your chest. “It doesn’t fucking matter, alright. If I wanted to talk about it then I would have told you by now.”

Roy perked his brow at you. “Is this about something football related, or something life related?”

“God!” you exploded finally. You wouldn’t mention Nate, but Roy’s incessant poking meant you had to say something real. Maybe this really was something you should have told him a while ago. “You really wanna know?” You turned towards him, eyes crazy and breathing erratic. “I hate my fucking job, okay. And everytime I go to the stadium for a game I’m reminded of everything I left behind and everything I continue to leave behind. The guys, Ted, Beard, you.” 

For the first tme since the car stopped, Roy shut his mouth and listened. 

“I– I wonder how much longer I can fucking do it. The commute every morning, the staleness of my work colleagues, the giant stack of papers and assignments that are always waiting on my desk to get done because no one else will fucking touch them. I don’t sleep at night properly, and I can’t even cook meals anymore. I feel like–” You sucked in a deep breath and finally looked Roy in the eye. “I feel like, even despite all of you including me in everything, I’m running on the spot behind you and will never be able to catch up. Like I’ll never be part of that world anymore. And it’s, it’s– breaking me.” 

Roy leant towards you instinctually. 

“Rebecca and Keeley know I hate it, but every time Rebecca talks about getting me a position at the club I freeze. It makes me feel sick that she’d so easily and without question hand me something because I don’t feel like I deserve it. And–!” Roy flicked his eyes over your face, at a loss of what to say. You laughed from a lack of what else to fucking do. “The game last weekend, when you showed up and finally realised your worth as a coach, I almost missed it because I couldn’t take being back there without thinking how much I fucking miss it all. I’m pathetic–”

“No, you’re not,” Roy interjected hoarsely. 

You laughed again, on the brink of tears. “Yes, I am. Who does that? Who cries before a fucking game because they can’t handle being there? Me. I do that now, apparently.” 

Silence descended inside the Jeep. You finally took a breath, and when you did you realised what you’d done. You leaned back in your seat and faced the windshield, utterly embarrassed that you’d burst at the seams. 

“So,” you said smally. “That’s that.” You turned towards Roy again. “Is that what you wanted me to say?”

Roy stayed as quiet as a mouse. That wasn’t his style. Glued to his spot, Roy kept his gaze on you thoughtfully. He regarded the look on your face and noticed the subtle embarrassment on your brow; you hadn’t expected to cave so easily when questioned about what was wrong. 

He looked down at your hands in your lap. Your fingers shook subtly as they brushed across your knuckles in worry. Roy hated that you were worrying after being honest about something in your life. It was only him, he thought. Surely you should know that you could tell him anything and he’d listen.

“Sorry,” you blurted out. 

Roy huffed, speechless. “What the fuck are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Fucking–” Roy moved closer to you. “Come here.” 

His arms were around you in no time. You stayed stuck in place, stunned, for just a second, until you found yourself hugging him back so fiercely that you couldn’t have thougth of anything you needed more. It was funny. You could count on one hand how many times you and Roy had hugged, and none of them had been like this. 

You’d been close before, sure, in proximity and in more. You were close even now, despite counting the conversation you’d both had in November. Everyone on the outside seemed to think of Roy as someone who wasn’t hands-on. He liked his space, he didn’t like to pry or poke, yet here you were– the air being squeezed from your lungs because he’d made you open up for your own good– because he couldn’t think of anything better to show that he cared than to embrace you. 

Roy Kent cared so much that it was a wonder he had energy to do anything else. 

When the two of you parted, you couldn’t help but laugh. You stayed close, foreheads almost touching. Roy smiled at you genuinely, fully, thoughtfully. 

“No wonder you’re going mental,” he said lowly. “That’s a lot to hold onto without letting it out.”

That’s not even the half of it. You wanted to say, but you didn’t. 

“You’re not running in place behind us,” Roy continued. “You’re what keeps us all together. You’re the reason I went back to Richmond.” You didn’t say anything, just took in his words. “I didn’t go back just for the game, or the guys– I went back because I knew you’d be in the box, looking down at me on the pitch again.” 

Your throat closed slightly, as the urge to cry hit you. You swallowed it away, not wanting to burst again in such a short amount of time. “Well,” you whispered. “I’m glad.” 

For a fraction of a second, Roy’s eyes dropped to your lips. 

You���d been here before, you thought. You’d been here with him like this so many times that you couldn’t even count them off the top of your head. If you had time, a few minutes maybe, you’d be able to pinpoint every occasion where the word almost screeched within your mind. 

Almost there. Almost on you. 

Perhaps you’d never get beyond the proverbial almost, but this time felt different. Something had shifted recently. You felt it. Roy’s stares lingered for just a tad too long. Electricity buzzed between you even when you weren’t touching. The joy you’d felt when he’d arrived at the Dogtrack and finally caved in had been second to none. In hindsight, maybe jumping the wall of the home box and running down the steps in the stands to him had been too much. 

Roy didn’t think so. He’d relished you being close. His stomach had somersaulted as soon as you’d yelled his name. Secretly, he’d hoped you’d react the exact way you did. He’d done it for you, had he not? He’d come back to Richmond for you. 

Without realising, you and Roy had inched closer to each other so much that you both hovered over the centre console of his Jeep. Foreheads almost touching. Hearts almost caving. 

You’d been here before so many times. 

Roy swallowed without moving a muscle, ready to speak. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Instantly, you crashed back down to earth. You sucked in a deep breath and straightened yourself, leaning back towards the passenger side window. You thought the worst. Was this an ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this’? It had to be, surely. 

“Oh,” you let out, flustered. “Don’t apologise, don’t wo–”

“No,” Roy cut you off strongly, unexpectedly leaning closer. “I’m sorry for being a fucking idiot.” 

Time stilled. That word– that almost– lingered in the air like dust in the desert. Heavy, dry, suffocatingly warm. 

Roy’s expression grew to frustration as quickly as you’d both fallen to silence. “I thought I was doing the right fucking thing, stopping–” He gestured between you both, not able to find words. “I thought it would be better for you, to not get you mixed up in all my shit.”

The penny dropped. You squished your face into a hurt smile involuntarily. “It’s okay, Roy,” you said softly. 

“And worse yet,” he continued. “I’ve been a… a fucking arse. Not changing how I acted around you, or what I said, or what I did. I must have made everything ten times fucking worse for you.”

You shook your head immediately. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Roy replied instantly. “It does matter. I never wanted to play with your fucking feelings or make what I did more difficult for you, but that’s exactly what I did.” 

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s okay,” you repeated, just for good measure. 

Roy fell silent for a pause, taking in your words as if he really needed to hear them. In fact, you thought he really did need to hear them, straight from your mouth and no one elses. 

“You’re sure?” he asked, checked, wanted to make extra fucking sure. 

You nodded quickly. “I’m sure.” You smiled, trying desperately not to let the cropped up hurt on your face show through. That wasn’t on him; he hadn’t intended to damage you this way. 

“Okay.” Roy breathed out deeply, leaning back into the driver’s seat like the weight of the world had just been taken off his shoulders. “Thank fuck,” he whispered, before meeting your eye again. He smiled, accepting the silliness that one felt after being so vulnerable with someone else. “I really fucking need you, you know?” 

You laughed first, wanting to say so do I. Instead, you differed your response. “Of course, you fucking do. Who else is going to tell you what to do with your life?” 

Roy’s smile lit up all over his face. You remembered a time where you used to count how many times he looked at you like this; honest. Now, it was everyday. 

“Exactly,” he said. Gently, he stuck his hand out and laid it upon your cheek. “Fucking exactly.” His thumb swiped across your face warmly. You shivered immensely, but tried desperately to hide it. 

You glanced at the radio clock. Time ticked by, and you knew you had to leave this conversation soon. Innately, Roy knew it, too. 

“My mum’s coming to Richmond tomorrow morning,” you said softly. Roy’s hand stayed put. You didn’t mind. “I need to go and clean my flat, or she’ll start washing up mugs against my will.” 

Roy’s eyes flicked between your own. Affection seeped from within them, so far removed from when you’d first met. Slowly, he removed his hand from your cheek. His fingers skimmed your skin on the way back to his lap. “Okay,” he whispered; acceptance. 

Almost would stay the same. Almost had gone the furthest it had ever been.

You slung your bag over your shoulder. Roy unlocked the passenger side door with one button click. You gripped the handle strongly, but paused before you left for good. 

“Thank you for listening to me,” you said simply. “I mean– really listening to me.” 

Roy stayed still, not leaving your gaze for a second. “Always,” he said lowly. 

When the door to your building shut behind you, Roy was still reluctant to drive away. He watched as the light turned on from the window of your ground floor flat, saw your silhouette enter the living room– the room where he’d stood before a few times– and drop your bag to the floor in exhaustion. 

Roy drove away when your silhouette disappeared, the feeling of you still present on his fingertips. 

You didn’t tell anyone about Nate. You didn’t tell anyone that he’d warded you off or spoke ill of you supporting the team. Instead, you went to work. You encompassed yourself in your job, taking on extra responsibilities despite that being the one reason you felt spread thin. 

By Thursday, you were ready to crash. Your bed had been calling you every day, as soon as you disembarked from the train at Richmond tube station. Intentionally, you ignored texts from Rebecca and Keeley about times to rendezvous at Wembley Stadium. If they ever asked, you’d blame it on having too much of a heavy work week. That would be your out. 

Logically, you knew you wouldn’t be able to completely miss Richmond playing at Wembley. People would be expecting you there. The guys would be expecting you there. But, despite their cries and pleads for you to be present, you were prepared to keep them at arms length– for Nate’s sake. 

When Saturday came, you knew it would be hard for you to avoid everyone at the club. By ten o’clock in the morning, Keeley had already called you twice. By half past the hour, Rebecca had called you three times. 

On the fourth time she rang, you knew you had to pick up. 

“Darling,” she said quickly. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry,” you said (you lied), secluded in your flat. “This week has been insane. I haven’t been able to focus on anything that isn’t Pluto Press related.”

Rebecca made a guttural sound in her throat. “Bollocks!” she exclaimed. “I’ll send a car. It can be there in twenty minutes if need be.”

“It’s okay. I can get the tube. Don’t worry–”

“Oh,” Rebecca cut you off. Her tone switched instantly. “Actually, don’t worry about a car. I think someone is waiting for you out front.”

As if on cue, the horn from Roy’s Jeep sounded from your living room window. 

Quickly, you ran to the window. Between your sheer curtains, Roy’s obsidian black Jeep was stationed on the road by your front door. You couldn’t curse on your call with Rebecca, but by God– you wanted to. 

“Is that the cavalry coming for me?” you said down the phone, peeved. 

“Yes, it is,” Rebecca said smugly. “See you in an hour, darling.” She hung up the phone fast, so quick that you couldn’t give any excuse to get out of this match. 

Quickly, you gathered a bag of belongings and left your flat. Reluctantly, you descended the steps of your building and pulled the handle of the passenger side door of Roy’s Jeep. You settled quickly, without fuss, but words dangled in the air as soon as silence descended within the car. 

“Ready to go?” Roy said from the driver’s seat. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out. Roy didn’t push you, but he did push upon the accelerator and toward Wembley Stadium. 

Roy parked in the car park beneath the stadium, only for players or coaches, and killed the engine. 

You grabbed your bag quickly and left his Jeep, knowing what happens when you’re trapped inside with nowhere to go. The two of you made your way through the back entrance of the stadium. It was a miracle that Roy hadn’t asked what was wrong– you were being quiet and subdued, that was enough of a trigger for him to know something was up. 

You wondered if Nate had eyes on you. You wondered if he was watching you traverse the inner sections of Wembley, if he saw you freak out when going past the locker room, if he saw you retreat into yourself past the press rooms. 

Roy didn’t wonder. He kept his eyes on you through it all. 

Silence hung in the air uncomfortably as you passed office after office. These were the inner workings of a stadium; a world that you knew well, but nothing like that of the Dogtrack.

You finally broke the air. “I should really get to Rebecca and Keeley,” you said.

“And you will,” Roy said. “There’s just one stop we have to take first.”

Your heart stilled as soon as he turned to the right, entering into the final office on the long corridor you’d traversed. You were hit with the nervous gazes of Ted and Beard immediately, but you didn’t care for the way their expressions faltered softly—

You cared for the way Nate’s eyes bored into you with no remorse. At the back of the room, he glared at you ten times worse than he’d done the week before at the Dogtrack.

“Writer!” Ted exclaimed, filling the tension in the air with his enthusiasm. “Oh, thank God,” he added in a whisper. 

“Hi,” you said smally, accepting a hug from him suddenly. 

You hated this. As you removed yourself from Ted’s grasp, you could feel the steely eyes of one Nathan Shelley staring you down, like a child did to an ant before he crushed it with his shoe.

After you left Ted’s embrace, you stepped back so quickly that you almost tripped over Roy’s feet. He steadied you instantly, keeping his hand at your lower back.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Ted said, gaining some colour back on his face.

You laughed nervously. “I should really go and find Rebecca and Keeley. I shouldn’t be here.” 

“Poppycock!” Ted exclaimed. “You’re exactly what we needed. The guys are in the locker room just down there, why don’t you go and say—,”

“No!” you burst suddenly. 

The room went quiet instantly. Beard looked at Ted quizzically. You could feel Roy’s stare on the back of your neck.

“They need to focus,” you stuttered. “I should just go and find my seat.”

Nate stepped forward a few paces, coming between Ted and Beard silently. “I think that’s a good idea. Let her go and find her girlfriends.” 

You hated the way words fell from his mouth. You knew he had you exactly where he wanted you— uncomfortable, vulnerable, everything in between— but you were in no situation to open this can of worms with Ted, Beard and Roy. 

You gripped your bag on your arm tightly and turned to Roy. “I’ll see you on the pitch,” you said timidly. Quickly, and without thinking, you pressed a chaste kiss on Roy’s cheek, and left promptly.

You had no idea where you were going, but knew that you couldn’t stop as you made your way down the inner corridors of Wembley.

All you knew was that you needed to be where Nate Shelley was not, as soon as humanly possible. 

“Have a glass of wine,” Rebecca said sternly from the internal bar by the VIPs box. 

“I’m okay,” you said, keeping yourself contained.

Her smile turned to a frown. Oh, she knew you far too well for you to get out of this one.

“Take the fucking wine glass, darling.”

“Okay.” You took the glass of wine instantly and downed one, two, three gulps. You breathed out. “Oh, that’s better.” 

“Mhm,” she hummed, satisfied. 

“Sorry,” you said between gulps and sips. “It’s just been a long week.”

“I can see that,” she said, looking you up and down. “Are you sure that’s all it is? Your job?” 

Shit. She knew something else was up. They all fucking did, and it drove you insane. Innately, you cursed yourself out for being so well-known, so well-loved. You were surrounded by the people who knew you most in this world, but also by the people that didn’t want you around. It was a double-edged sword of inescapable proportions, and you were tired.

“That’s all it is,” you said, trying to adopt as much sincerity as you possibly could. 

Rebecca’s frown stayed put as her eyes roamed your face. Gently, she reached out her hand and ran her expensively manicured nails through your hair softly. 

“You’d let us know, wouldn’t you?” she said, and you froze with your wine glass to your lips. “You’d let us know if it was something else, too?” 

Keeley shoved a mini sausage roll in her mouth and approached you both quickly. “It’s Roy, isn’t it.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not Roy,” you groaned. 

“Then what is it!” Keeley exclaimed, launching pastry crumbs across the bar. 

Before you could respond, applause broke out from the crowd immensely. You gulped down the rest of your wine quickly and dropped the empty glass on a side table by the door to the stands. 

“That’s kick off,” you said, already on your way to take a seat.

The conversation went unfinished, as Rebecca and Keeley followed you out of the door towards the pitch. They didn’t attempt to pry during the game, too caught up in the song and dance of yelling chants for Richmond, of being present, of supporting.

You knew you’d dodged a bullet, as you screamed your lungs out from the stands. But, you knew your silence was on a time limit. If anyone would get something out of you, it was Rebecca and Keeley. 

And you knew it would only be a matter of time before they broke your silence (for the better). 

When the full-time whistle blew, you felt helpless. You could only imagine how the guys were feeling, knowing that they’d lost so spectacularly against none other than Manchester City. 

The person who your heart went out to the most, however, was not normal. It wasn’t Roy, it wasn’t Ted, it wasn’t even Sam or Isaac or Colin— it was Jamie Tartt. 

You knew he’d be hurting the most from this immense defeat. His old team, his past life, and at Wembley fucking stadium no less. He’d be in bits.

“Well,” Rebecca said, standing up and wrapping her scarf around her neck. “That’s that, then.”

“The guys will be crushed,” Keeley said sadly.

“Jamie will be crushed.” The pair of them looked at you as you spoke. Their sombre faces were enough for you to know that they agreed wholeheartedly.

“Come on.” Rebecca passed you and stepped out of the stands. “Let’s go and commiserate with them.”

You tensed instantly, watching silently as Keeley stood up and followed Rebecca. The two of them waited for you at the end of the row. 

“I should really head home,” you said finally, trying to keep your expression neutral. 

“What?” Keeley.

“Why on Earth do you need to leave now?” Rebecca.

“It’s just— I don’t want to crowd them, you know?” The pitch of your voice had risen. You sounded like a mouse, a lying, cheating mouse.

The two of them stared at you like you were mental. Neither said anything, their expressions spoke a thousand words for them— what the hell is up with you?

You faltered first. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Oh no, we absolutely will look at you like this,” Rebecca said threateningly. “What’s got your knickers in a twist? You look like a labrador that’s shit all over the carpet!”

“I really hope you haven’t shat on someone’s carpet, but if you have, you can tell us.” Keeley leaned down and laid a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I haven’t shat on a fucking carpet!” 

“Then come on!” Rebecca exclaimed. “Your team needs you.” Her words stung you internally. “They need you.” 

Rebecca’s commanding nature jumped out tenfold. You were stuck at an impasse, between a rock and a hard place, whatever other metaphor you could use for being trapped. One side of your brain projected a sad picture of the guys in the locker room, begging for a friendly face to come and lift them up; and the other— Nate was glaring at you like you’d just done something terribly wrong. 

God, you hated this. No one knew the way he’d talked to you, or what he’d said. And the worst part was that you couldn’t tell them— wouldn’t— from how much drama it would create. 

Football was supposed to be your safe space. Watching matches with your girls, cheering or crying in the locker room with the guys, urging Ted, Beard and Roy on whenever you could.

Nate had taken that all away after one simple conversation. 

You didn’t know how to tell them no. If it was up to you, you would have sprung out of your seat and ran down to the locker rooms without any hesitation.

But, it wasn’t up to you. Nate’s words rattled around your mind like beads in a maraca. 

Rebecca sucked in a deep breath. She leant down and grabbed your hand swiftly, warmly. “We’re here with you. Whatever you need, we’re always here. But, those boys need us the most right now. You know them better than I do—,”

“And me! You know them better than me, too!” Keeley joined in supportively. 

“They don’t want us without you, and that’s a fact.” 

You let out a shaking breath, then nodded quickly. Nate would have to move to the fucking side.

“Okay.” You nodded again, strongly. “Okay— let’s go see our boys.” You stood up quickly, not letting go of Rebecca’s hand.

“Your boys,” Rebecca said sternly. “They’re all yours.”

Navigating the lower levels of Wembley was nerve wracking, you couldn’t lie. Scenarios raced through your head of things going terribly wrong; Nate stopping you in the corridor; Nate forbidding you from entering the locker room; Nate this, Nate that. 

Fuck this shit.

Rebecca was right. They were your boys, your team. You knew them on levels that didn’t revolve around football, you knew them as people. And by God, they needed that. This time, they needed someone to make them feel something other than defeated.

The corridors were clear when the three of you turned the corner to the locker rooms. Only a security guard stood at the door of Richmond, and he very easily let you all in when you approached.

You held your breath when you finally entered. The guys sat in their respective cubby holes sullenly, elbows on knees, heads in their hands.

You’d seen this before at Roy’s last game. Silence even deeper than when you both sat in the Dogtrack locker room alone littered the air at Wembley. You could only imagine what the guys were feeling, like history was repeating itself on so many levels for the team.

You caught eyes with Jamie first. He looked broken. 

Rebecca and Keeley headed towards the coaches, but you felt stuck in place by the door, frozen by the sad atmosphere in the room.

Roy saw you before you saw him. He strolled over slowly and reached out to grab your forearm. “Hey,” he said softly. 

You flashed back to reality and gazed up at him. “Hey.” Quickly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly. He clutched you back strongly, and you knew that he’d been needing a hug with the same fervour as yours. 

You didn’t need to say you were sorry. He’d probably heard it enough already. He knew you felt the sting of a loss this big just as much as he did.

When you went to pull away, he squeezed you tighter. Evidently, he wasn’t done just yet. 

“Well, guys,” Ted said to the room. Roy finally tugged away, but he kept a firm grasp around your waist as the two of you turned to listen to Ted’s address. “We lost. You don’t need me or anyone else to say it, because the look on your faces says it all.” Ted’s southern drawl felt like therapy. Within seconds, the team felt acknowledged, and that was all that mattered. “We all knew this was going to be tough, and for just a moment I want you all to forget the score, forget the goals and whatever else, and just think of how you all played like a proper team.” 

Ted had a way with words that you knew was the main reason his career was so vast. You didn’t know a thing about American football, but you knew that Ted was a stellar coach whether it was football or soccer in his eyes.

“You played as a team today,” Ted continued. “And sure, you’re allowed to be sad about the outcome, I’m not about to tell you you can’t feel that sting, but—.” Roy squeezed your waist. You wondered if he was doing it subconsciously. “But you all need to know that you were a unit today. One that has got us up through these ranks and back on the radar of the Premier League, even if the FA Cup wasn’t ours this time around.” 

His words settled over the room and brought back a sense of self to all the players. Next to you, Roy breathed out softly and in understanding. You could feel the tension within him dissipate ever so slightly. 

And then, that all went away. 

“Knock knock!” a voice sounded from the door to the locker room. A second later, a face you didn’t recognise turned the corner and into the room. “Awh no, sorry for the loss, lads,” he said, as your eyes darted quickly around the room, trying to find any semblance of familiarity. You found it in Jamie’s eyes instantly. “Though, not fully sorry. Because Man City fuckin’ won!” His Mancunian accent reverberated throughout the room.

You understood immediately, as you watched Jamie’s hands ball into fists. The rest of the team stayed back, as if glued to their cubbies. This was Jamie’s father. It had to be. 

Jamie’s dad pottered further into the room, towards his son. Jamie stood up as he did, sucking a deep breath into his tired lungs. “My boy, my boy. You bottled it didn’t ya?” 

Your entire body tensed as everyone observed, not saying a word. Jamie’s dad only kept coming, not paying any mind to the other players in the room. Roy’s grip on your waist tightened suddenly, as if he could feel your anxiety rising. You could feel the same from him; every muscle in his body tried desperately to hold back. 

Jamie’s father lunged towards his son’s face, so close that Jamie couldn’t look anywhere else. “You hear me, boy? You fuckin’ bottled it, didn’t ya?” he repeated. 

“Don’t speak to me that way,” Jamie said quickly, seething. 

“Wha?” his father faked not hearing him, getting even closer. 

“Do not speak to me that way,” Jamie repeated. His father looked up to his face, catching his eye lethally. 

Your gut lurched as his father kept going, kept repeating wha?, kept getting closer and closer to his boy’s face. This was vile, and you could hardly believe no one was doing anything.

“Wanna say that to me again, boy?” 

Jamie stood his ground, puffing out his chest to be bigger, straightening out his spine to be taller, and better, and whatever else he hadn’t learned from his shit-bag of a father. 

“Huh?” he said again, louder. “Huh!” he exclaimed. Alongside his voice, his hands bombarded into Jamie’s chest– hard.

Something within you snapped. Your chest compressed, your intestines warped, and your legs started moving. Roy’s grip disappeared from around your waist as you rushed forward, not giving a shit about the audience, or about the guys, or about Nate. Nate, who was standing behind Ted and Beard, saying and doing nothing. 

Inside, you stopped caring. You didn’t give a fuck if he hated you being around, you didn’t give a fuck if you’d get in trouble from this outburst, but you had to do something– anything. Jamie Tartt was being publicly abused by his father in front of your eyes, and you couldn’t fucking stand it. 

Maybe this is what Roy meant. You were the glue. You kept everyone together, you brought Roy back to the team. Maybe this is what you’d always been meant to do– protect these boys from whatever you fucking could, when they weren’t able to for themselves. 

As Jamie recovered, ready to strike, you were already one step ahead. In a fraction of a second, you were already beside his father, fist raised. When your knuckles hit his skin, you finally came back into the room. There were two crashes; one from the impact of your fist on his father’s cheekbone; the second from him hitting the floor unceremoniously. 

Quickly, Beard approached you and hoisted Jamie’s dad up by his armpits. The two of them backed out of the door, clambering over stray shoes and shirts and whatever else that lay on the floor. Without any warning, two large arms wrapped around you from behind and pulled you off the ground. You knew it was Roy as soon as you smelled his cologne. You smiled inappropriately, and then you chuckled to yourself deviously. 

You’d just punched Jamie’s piece of shit dad in the fucking face. 

And it felt fantastic. 

Clatters sounded from the outside corridor. Beard breathed heavily as he made his way back into the locker room, and the door slammed loudly behind him. The air felt heavy as eyes darted around the room. The guys looked at each other, then to Beard, then to you. Roy still held you tightly, dangling you above the ground as you tried your damned hardest not to burst into laughter. 

You couldn’t feel your hand. Your knuckles were red when you dropped your gaze to look. Your hand shook, finger bones stuck in place as they contemplated what their owner had just done– thrown a punch for the first time in her fucking life, and very haphazardly at that. 

When Jamie looked over to you, Roy finally dropped you to the floor. He leaned in close to your face, surveying your eyes suddenly. This was a look you’d never seen from him; fear. Roy Kent wasn’t one to be afraid, but the way his eyes poured into your own had your chest crumpling beneath your skin. He was worried– he was frightened– for you. 

“You ok?” he whispered. 

You nodded quickly. “I’m not the one you need to be asking that to.” Your gaze moved over to Jamie in a heartbeat. 

Roy stood up straight once more, puffing out his chest as he inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. He started walking without warning, fists balled, towards the Richmond striker. Everyone held their breath, knowing that him and Jamie together were not a good combination. You, however, smiled to yourself without question. 

When Roy reached Jamie, he wrapped his arms around him immediately. Coach and player hugged in silence, as the gravity of what Jamie’s father had just done stuck to every wall in the room. He needed this– hands on help, a real show of love and affection.

You were happy that Roy was the one to breach contact. That’s exactly what Jamie had needed. 

“You ok?” Roy asked him, pulling away from the embrace. 

Jamie breathed out slowly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“It’s not me you should be thanking,” Roy muttered. 

Both men turned back to face you. You held your wrist with care, not wanting to jolt your now fucked up hand. You smiled at the two of them knowingly, as everything settled back into place. 

Behind you, Nathan Shelley grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. On the way out of the locker room, he rushed past you harshly. You yelped to yourself as he pushed into you, jolting your wrist painfully. He stopped before you for just a second; he smiled. Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Watch yourself there,” he said, in some kind of fake honey-toned pitch. Then, he turned on his heels and left the locker room as fast as he’d bumped into you. 

Another threat. What a fucking joke. 

Your face soured immediately, you couldn’t help it. Inside your head, you imagined a world where you’d told Roy all that Nate had put you through recently. You could see it clearly– his whole body would tense, his fists would ball, his nostrils would flare, and he’d yell I’ll show that little fucker! 

Deeper within the indulgent part of your mind, he kissed you passionately before he went to confront Nate on your behalf. You swallowed quickly, trying to pat away those thoughts from the unexplored crevices of your mind. It was futile. Besides, you knew you still couldn’t tell Roy about Nate’s behaviour, for the sake of the team. 

One day, rest assured, you would. When Nate left Richmond, or something else happened to change things around here, that’s when you’d lay it all out for him. 

You were counting down the days.

“Hey,” Roy said, alerting you back into the room once more. Stood before you, he looked down at your hand. His brows furrowed. “Hm,” he growled gently. 

“It’s fine,” you lied. 

Softly, Roy laid his fingers atop your red knuckles. A sharp pain bombarded through your flesh instantly, forcing you to suck in a gasp. The pain spread to the rest of your hand, down your fingers, and twinged into your wrist. You couldn’t help it– you had to scream. “Motherfucker!” 

“Just as I thought,” Roy said. “You’ve fractured the shit out of your hand.” 

You squirmed on the spot, trying desperately to alleviate the pain you felt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you rattled off, purely as a way to expel what you felt. 

“Come on.” Roy bent down to the floor and picked up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go to the physio.” You hardly heard him, too focused on your hand. Roy gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the room. “See you in a bit, lads!” he exclaimed to the room. 

The two of you turned into the empty corridor ay Wembley, walking slowly as you tried to hold onto the last of your composure. 

“God,” you hissed. “Why the fuck did I punch Jamie’s dad?”

“Because someone had to,” Roy replied. “And besides.” He glanced at you unknowingly, as you remained preoccupied on your self-inflicted injury. “It was fucking hot.”

You groaned immensely, dropping your head onto Roy’s shoulder. “It doesn’t fucking feel like it,” you whined. Roy couldn’t help but smile. 

“Oh, believe me,” he said lowly, indulging in you being this close to him. “It was.” 

Roy held you all the way to the physio. Secretly, he’d never been happier that you’d decided to be so reckless. Perhaps, he thought, he was rubbing off on you just as much as you’d changed him for the better.

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant @pedritosgirl2000 @loveslide @ryleyrooroo @hanybunch @tweasley20 @witchyanya-7 @sareim123122 @jaymum @lwritesstuff @kravitzwhore @preciousbabypeter @blue-bujo @dark-academia-slut @imsupposedtohaveaname @tigolebittiez @strawberry07cake @eugene-emt-roe @dd122004dd @marjorieisreading @kissmekent @trashcanfullofdork @rmwarn90 @nerdgirljen @secretsicanthideanymore @sortzz @a-asterias

[lnfours]

tolerate it | l.n

summary: if it’s all in my head, tell me now. tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow.

warnings: happy folklore/evermore season :) angst, language, fears of your partner falling out of love with you, slight anxiety and overthinking, fluffy ending bc i can’t make them stay mad at each other. kinda wanna do an evermore/folklore mini series, let me know if you guys would be interested <3

masterlist | listen

₊���°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the colder weather meant the sun was starting to set earlier, and it was evident as you gazed out the window, sitting at the dining room table. the candle you had lit an hour or so ago flickering softly, illuminating the room with a soft glow as the gloomy sky hovered above.

you sighed to yourself, taking another sip from the wine glass that sat next to your plate. you tapped on your phone screen, lighting up and displaying the time and the picture you had set as your lock screen. the 5:30 hovering tauntingly above the picture of you and lando from a few months back, your smile wide and trying to hide it in his shoulder as he held his camera to the mirror. he was sporting a smile also, you could almost hear your shared giggles through the photo.

he was supposed to be home an hour ago, and nights like this were happening more often. he’d always be an hour to an hour and a half late getting home. it was always an apology, saying ‘training ran late’ or the quadrant shoot ‘ran on longer than it was supposed to’, you’d see him for fifteen minutes while the two of you ate dinner, and then he’d go off to the office until he decides to join you in bed later in the night.

at first, you didn’t complain, knowing he was a man with a busy schedule, but after almost two months of this same song and dance, your anxiety was getting the best of you.

what if he was out with someone else? what if he was slowly losing interest in you? what if he just tolerates you?

the sound of the door closing pulled you from your thoughts, snapping your head up as you heard footsteps enter the room. he placed his keys, wallet and phone on the counter, frowning softly.

“sorry i’m late,” here we go again, “i told max i needed to be home by 4 and he insisted we played another round before i left.”

you nodded, taking another sip from the glass on your right, “‘s fine.”

he watched you swallow thickly, tilting your head to look back out the window. he noticed the way your hand tapped against your arm softly, his eyes moving to the plates set on the table. your grandmother’s china.

his heart dropped when he thought back to your conversation the other night, him saying the two of you would have a proper sit down meal tonight since he felt bad for running late lately.

and he just fucked it all up even more.

“you don’t have to lie,” he said, making you advert your attention back to him, “i know you know it’s not fine.”

you shook your head, “what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

he knew he deserved the digs and jabs you were sending his way, “seriously, lando, if you’re not interested in me anymore just say it instead of making me play this stupid game.”

the silence that fell between the two of you after was the final blow. he watched your cheeks glisten in the soft candle light, and fuck, he hated seeing you cry. especially when it was because of him.

he didn’t know what to say as your chair scraped the floor, getting up from your spot at the table and picking up your plate. the food untouched as you grabbed the saran wrap from the pantry.

he heard your quiet sniffle, “i’m so sorry, y/n-“

“then where have you been the past two months?” he blinked back at you before you continued, “every single day it’s the same, overused excuse. so, what is it really, lando? enlighten me.”

he swallowed because he didn’t have answer that didn’t sound like he was making an excuse. he really had been busy with work, but he knew he could’ve done better with planning to make more time for you and him.

you knew he loved you with every fiber of his being, but you were upset. you were angry and sad and all you wanted was for him to come home and spend time together like the two of you used to do. but it was like it was too much to ask for.

of course you knew what you were signing up for when he took you on your very first date, but you didn’t know it would mean being put on the back burner, begging to be let in on the things going on his life.

his silence made you nod, “right,”

he reached out to you slowly, not sure how you would react. you bit down on your bottom lip, the dam breaking now as he stepped towards you.

“y/n,” he said your name softly, understanding that your lash-outs were because of men who had hurt you in the past, knowing too well what it felt like when anxiety and over thinking takes over. he couldn’t be mad at you, he just wanted to make things right. make you feel reminded that he loved you. more than racing, more than his friends, more than anything in the whole world.

the back of your hands were raised to your eyes when he grabbed them and pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his chest. you gave in, knowing that at the end of the day, he was your safe place. your shoulder to cry on, the one who always saw you in your most vulnerable stages. there was no getting past him with this one.

your hands wrapped around his middle loosely as you cried softly into his chest. he rested his head against yours, rubbing your back the same way he always did whenever he’d comfort you. his lips pressed against your hair before he grabbed your face gently, lifting your chin to have you look at him.

he wiped the tears from your cheeks, eyes searching yours and that’s when you realized he had been crying too, “i’m gonna talk to my trainer and the guys and tell them i need a little bit of a break, and you and i are gonna spend every single day together doing whatever you want.”

you felt selfish now, “but this is your job, lan,”

“i don’t care,” he said, shaking his head as he moved his hand to hold your cheek, “they’ll be fine if i take a few days off.”

your hand came up to mimic his on your cheek, your fingers brushing against the small moles on his face. the same ones your lips press against whenever you kiss his face. the pads of your thumbs brushed away the small tear lingering around his nose.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling guilty for being cold to the boy who loved you like no other.

“don’t apologize,” he said, “i should’ve done better. you don’t deserve to feel like you’re on the back burner of my life.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as if it was even possible. you looked back out the window, the light from the golden hour sun shining on the trees in the backyard. he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “i love you.”

you smiled softly, pulling back to meet his gaze. your smile making his lips turn up into one mirroring yours, “i love you, too.”

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, a mixture of the wine you had with dinner and the salty tears you had cried a few moments prior with the subtle hint of your chapstick.

you both pulled away, him taking you by surprise when he lifted you off the ground. you squealed, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you clung onto his hoodie for dear life.

“lando!” you laughed, letting him carry you to the couch and thanking yourself for putting his dinner plate in the fridge earlier.

you had your boy back.

[pedrilcvr]

Want you to want it — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your relationship was ending. You knew it was. But why couldn’t he want it—the relationship—to last?

Disclaimer/s: angst! also i lowkey gave up on the ending thats my bad

A/N: this is like the 2nd draft i ever made and i completely forgot abt it.. oopsies..

It hadn’t always been like this. You used to be madly in love. But now you’d come home from work only to find him sleeping on the couch, leaving your once shared bedroom cold and empty.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You stood in the hallway kicking off your shoes when you noticed movement on the couch. It was the fifth time that week that you’d only spoken to him twice in a day.

Of course you knew he had a busy week with practice and getting ready for the upcoming season, but it still hurt you to go days without a loving word from your boyfriend of three years.

Setting down your purse and keys, you contemplate getting it over with and waking him up, demanding he sleeps in bed tonight.

Hesitantly, you make your way into the living room, but the soft sounds of your feet hitting the floor is not quiet enough. A tussle of light brown hair slowly makes its appearance, a guff voice following after, “hello?” He grumbles out, his voice alone lacking the love it once held.

A burst of something you couldn’t quite name, shoots directly into your heart. Anger, frustration, desperation? Who knows. All you knew was you’d do anything to make him love you again, and he seemed to be doing everything to make you hate him.

“Hey.” You finally reply, your voice soft as you inch around the couch. “Come to bed.”

Gavi glances up, sleep evident on his face as he looks at you for the first time in God knows how many days. “Too tired.” He answers, his head falling back to the pillow with a quiet humph.

Now you knew what you felt, angry. “Bullshit!” You scoff, “bull fucking shit.”

Once again, Gavi’s eyes open, this time the sleep gone from them, replaced with annoyance. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all week. And now you’re ‘too tired’ to walk ten feet to our bed?” You spat, making sure he caught on to every word you said.

“Yeah? I’m tired, why would I move when i’m already perfectly comfortable?” His tone is condescending and the more he speaks, the more frustrated you become.

Swallowing a bundle of nerves that were begging you to just leave it be, that the conversation could wait. You knew it couldn’t this was a long time coming.

“What happened to you? To us?” You ask, voice hoarse as you felt every emotion rushing to your throat. You let the silence settle, watch as his expression shifts a dozen times before choosing one.

He runs a hand over his face, jaw tightening as he stumbles for words. “Can we just talk about this in the morning?” He finally sighs out.

“No!” You laugh, although it was humorless. “No. We will talk about this now. Pablo, i’ve been trying to make up excuses as to why you have been so withdrawn, but i’m so tired of it. I just want you to want it—our relationship, I want you to want it to last. But you clearly don’t!”

Gavi’s eyes soften, darting around your weary face. He loved you, he did. He knew he did because every time you were near him, his hands ached to touch you. He knew he loved you, because he couldn’t go a second without thinking of you. Until recently, his mind had been all over the place.

He was finishing his last few months of rehab, and he’d been so busy with focusing on his career, he simply lost sight of the relationship.

He couldn’t juggle the two, and at the end of the day, he would have to choose his career. He’d be miserable if he didn’t, and he’d be miserable without you. It was a lose-lose situation.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he had to say. Your lips quiver as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” You nod, placing your hands on your face as you rub your temples. “Got it.”

He calls out your name as you walk to the bedroom, but you ignore it. You ignore him, shutting the door behind you. This was how it ended, he didn’t have to explain it. You knew why it was ending, and as strongly as you wanted to hate him for it, you couldn’t.

Your love for him understood that he needed football to survive, and maybe, you figured, you’ll forgive him for it one day. But for now, you grabbed a suitcase from your closet, and began to pack.

DTS , @halfwayhearted !

[6okuto]

Could i have the same headcanon of falling in love but for Mhin? Thank you 🙏 😭

MHIN FALLING IN LOVE

gn!reader | mhin time! >____< lots of mhin fans here... awesome world. in case anyone is wondering yes i do have vere in my drafts. meowww

predictably, a slowburn with angst.

hard to get to know, not because they aren't predictable, or because they're incredibly hard to read, but because they're Fawking persistent when it comes to keeping their guard up. which means you have to be even More persistent. an absurd cycle. but you can get there. You will get there.

i think something that slowly takes down(?) mhin's walls would be showing interest in them past working together and their secrets. asking something more mundane like what their favourite season or meal is, what kind of music they like, if they enjoy rain. they're wary to answer because ?? why are you asking. why are you being weird. but they realize it's nice to think of something else about themself other than being a monstrosity. wow. ow

^ and then maybe doing something with their answer! going out of your way to buy some sweets for them, asking if they're okay when it's super cold/hot because they mentioned not enjoying it. something they've forgotten you even know. it also makes them wonder what your answers would be. the first time mhin manages to ask "what's yours?" is !!!! woah!

another moment might be choosing to be sincere when you could've teased them for something. they give you a look (honestly more often than not, mhin's first reaction is always wary confusion/denial), and you promise you're telling the truth. and they might not thank you or anything, but it sticks in the back of their head while they try to ignore how flustered they feel.

another Little moment might be you catching them off guard by like. being mean. they've gotten used to you pestering and following them. they've gotten used to your list of questions and times where you're walking quietly. neither of you have spoken in 5 minutes, and they're rolling their eyes, thinking to themself "what an asshole" about some guy arguing with a server, and then you mutter "what a fucking asshole" out loud. and they just look at you like ?. and you look back like ?? like i'm wrong. and mhin can't help but snicker or scoff.

when they realize what's going on (waiting for you to find them, looking for you, enjoying your company, etc), mhin starts avoiding you like the plague. all that time learning your schedule/habits has made it easy to avoid you (until you realize what's going on, at least). even places that they enjoyed for themself, they time things so you don't cross paths. it's honestly impressive LOL

they kind of hate it though. they miss you. they tell themself they don't, but they do. yeah they avoid you, but you know, if you both happen to be shopping, they might trail you and notice how you're buying ingredients for your favourite dessert, or how your eyes linger on a necklace before moving on. they just happen to be taking a similar path as you, and it's not like they want something bad to happen, so it makes sense to watch out, even now.

i'm picturing a confrontation where they try to deny avoiding you, then say they're doing it for a reason... and then you ask what this is, what anything meant, if anything. and mhin thinks they've dug themself a grave already and tell you it was nothing, a mistake, you should go home.

and you can either wait for a second confrontation, or call out their bullshit there—they're a liar but it's obvious to you, so what's actually going on? and tension rises and you push a little further until they finally tell you of course they care about you! and their voice might break a little because they don't speak loudly often, and their words dawn on them and they purse their lips—that's why they're trying to stay away.

something something don't push me away, i won't let you push me away, the significance of promising to stay with them, to work through things together and not leaving them alone, of seeing them as something else other than a monster, of seeing them as mhin.

mhin falls in love with your kindness, your open heart that warms theirs until it remembers spring. not just in the way you help them, but the kindness you show yourself, the people around you, your friends. they fall in love with watching you see the world in a way they hope to one day.

they fall in love with someone who perseveres when things get hard, but reminds the both of them that pushing too much or isolating yourself won't help. they'll stand at your desk and watch until you put your things away, or frown when they find you asleep outside of bed, and they know you'll do the same with them. they believe you'll get better at this together

mhin falling in love is pushing themself out of their comfort zone and doing their best to speak, even and especially when they can't think of what to say. it's them finding you in a bad mood and getting you food and offering to listen if you need to vent. it's them opening up and being vulnerable about their past that still hurts them, letting you reach for their hand or hold them when all they can think is that they don't deserve it.

i've mentioned this before but in an established relationship, mhin is softer but...not? they're comfortable to the point that they enjoy when you rest your head on their shoulder, but also enjoy making fun of you and laughing afterward. they don't have to be cold or walled off!! you're getting the real mhin, all sides included!

in general, they aren't a very touchy person. whether this is because they're not used to it or actually don't enjoy it is up in the air in my head. either way, it makes moments of physical touch a little more special! leaning against you when they're tired, reaching for your hand in crowds, letting you tie or play with their hair, etc.

the first time mhin kisses you, you're asleep. it's just a little one on the forehead as they pull the blanket up a little higher. and they keep doing it, because maybe it'll make it easier for when you wake up. they don't realize that you've been awake for the past 3 kisses as you pretend to fall asleep.

they let you watch them do experiments, and if it's up your alley, will listen to your thoughts and suggestions! feel honoured because it isn't a place, or thing that they let just anyone see! even if you aren't very science-y, feel free to give your opinion. maybe something will click in their head, y'know. or just be like, what if you mix red and white to make pink. and watch mhin stare at you like. How did you pick the two that'd be the Worst possible combination. like okay sorry i like pretty colours woah /lh

saying i love you.... i think they'd try really hard. you've helped them so much and they really do care, even if they're scared to say they love you, they know they do, they don't know what else this could be. there's a few times you catch them staring at you weirdly focused, and they're making a face with scrunched brows and pouting lips, and you're like. What is happening. and they chicken out. and get angry at themself for a while.

it kind depends on you, of course, and what kind of person you are. if you're someone who says it easily but never pushes them to say it, they feel grateful but guilty. if both of you keep dancing around it, a little anxiety and insecurity creeps back in when they don't want it to.

it's kind of a big deal for them, so the first time you say it is at the same time. not like Simultaneously saying it, but the same. ...day. at least. LOL. although if they're the one to say it first (somehow??) and you don't say it back until later that night because ?? shock? processing? nervous excitement? they Will be having a rough time dealing with themself, even while they repeat over and over that you deserve time, too, and it's okay, and they shouldn't overthink, etc etc.

mhin is So visibly relieved when you say it back. "were you worried?" "no?" < their head was a cacophony of 27 ambulances and noisy garbage compactors

grahhh i forgot to make a new tag list form. friends. I will make one eventually. but u r still here 4 now. kyaaa | @screaming-wea-sel @semifilms @cvhenia @mitskiologist @leiiii-i @sweet-milky-tea705 @khalixvitae

[betheflame]

so i promised a stony baseball au...

“Is this normal?” 

Bucky cut his eyes to the right. They were standing along the railing of the dugout, watching the game unfurl in front of them. The Avengers were up to bat, runners on second and third with one out. Rogers’ eyes were trained on the batter in the box. 

To be fair, every eye in the stadium was. 

Bucky didn’t get a chance to respond, because at that second, Stark’s bat cracked and the ball soared into left field. “Get out, get out, get out, get… FUCK YES.”

He smiled as two runners crossed the plate before Tony trotted home. The Brooklyn Hydra increased their lead over the Reading Athletics and they were giving the sell-out crowd a good show. Minor league baseball was part theater, part sport, and part training ground for the individual players to show off in the hopes they might get called up to The Show. 

It also gave big leaguers recovering from injury somewhere to ease back into the game; which is why Bucky was currently sharing the dugout with World Series champion, two-time Cy Young winner, and generational talent Steve Rogers. The man they called Captain America was coming off of hip surgery and Bucky knew their whole team was just a litttttle bit starstruck. 

Except their starting catcher, who appeared to give less than zero fucks about playing with the headliner. Bucky could not figure out exactly why Tony and Steve hated each other, but it started the second day of Steve’s rehab stint. The two had gone out to dinner after practice and came back to the clubhouse the next day nearly hissing at each other in hatred. 

So it didn’t matter that Tony had just hit a 3-run home run in a fashion fit for highlight reels. Steve acted like he was watching a traffic collision. 

Tony danced back into the dugout and gleefully put on the traditional Home Run Crown the team kept for celebrations. He high fived everyone and then stopped dead in front of Steve. They glowered at each other until Steve finally grumbled ‘nice hit’ and Tony moved on to celebrate with the guys behind them. 

“Is what normal?” Bucky addressed Steve. 

Steve had gone back to leaning on the railing. He blew a big gum bubble tilted his head over to where Tony was taking off his batting gloves. “The drama.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, you play on a team with a man whose nickname is ‘King of the World’ and you’re concerned about Tony having fun playing baseball on minimum wage?”

Steve snorted. “Carlito is a jackass. Been begging the front office to trade him for two seasons. Stark just doesn’t seem to take the game seriously.”

Bucky barked out a laugh as the inning ended. He grabbed his glove and began to trot out to his position at first base. “Rogers, you’re currently playing on a team that uses an inflatable pool toy crown as a home run celebration. You’re here for another two weeks, feel free to enjoy it.”

....

let's see where this goes, shall we?

[lee-laurent]

The Past - John Marino

Summary: The timeline of John and Tori's relationship

notes: This is like a prequel to 'Done Trying!' You don't have to read this part, but it gives background on John and Tori's relationship. How they got to where they are in the fic now. The part after this will be a continuation of 'Done Trying' so look for that in the next few days. Also, I do not want to hear any negative criticism about how I've written her depression. I have depression myself and this is how it manifests for me. It's different for everyone, so I don't want to see any hate. Your experience may be different than mine, but every mental health experience is valid.

content: angst, fluff, unplanned pregnancy, break ups, anxiety issues, arguments, birth (not super graphic), mentions of sex but no actual smut, depressive episode, body image issues, mentions of abortion

2019

Tori wasn't drunk by any means, just a bit tipsy. Her fake ID had worked and she was enjoying her night out with her friends. The bar wasn't particularly busy, but the girls were managing to make it feel like a party.

The group of girls all turned to look at the door as a group of rowdy men entered. They were all cheering loudly and patting each other on the back.

"Was there a hockey game tonight?" one of Tori's friends asked.

"I think so," she shrugged, downing the rest of her rum and coke. "I'm going to get another one."

"We'll be here!" one of the other girls giggled.

"Hi, could I have another rum and coke, please?" she grinned at the bartender.

"Sure thing," the man returned with the drink a few minutes later, placing it in front of her, "That'll be 6 dollars."

She reached into her back pocket, when a voice beside her stopped her, "I've got it."

She turned, looking at the man next to her. He was significantly taller than her five foot frame, with tan skin and unruly, dark curls he brushed from his eyes.

"Oh! Thank you," she grinned, taking her drink from the counter.

"I'm John."

"Tori."

"You come here often? Sorry, I know that's cliche as fuck."

"Ha! No worries, my friends and I come here some weeks. It seems your group of friends is making it a bit more lively."

"Hope we're not interrupting your night."

"Not at all. We were the only ones making noise before you guys showed up. You from around here?"

"I'm from Massachusetts. But I moved here for work. You?"

"Pittsburgh born and raised," she smiled, raising her glass up before taking a sip.

The couple continued talking for the rest of the night. Tori wasn't the hookup type though, so instead of going home with him, she gave him her number. Leading to a long line of dates, until he finally asked her out officially.

2020

The world had locked down. No more hockey. No more school. No more work. Tori had subsequently moved into John's apartment so that they would be able to spend time together during the pandemic.

"What're you making?" John asked, wrapping his arms around Tori's waist, tucking his face in the crook of her neck.

"Oatmeal cookies."

"Smells good, baby."

"How was your nap?"

"Relaxing. Would've been better if you were there."

"You know naps make me feel like shit."

"I know... but the bed feels so empty without you."

"God, you're cheesy," she grinned, lifting her hand up to run through his mop of curls. "You want me to trim these?"

"Mmm, not today. I like them long. Why? Do you not like them?"

"I love your curls, Johnny. So sexy."

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"I'm going to play 'chel with the boys. Call if you need anything."

She nodded, turning back to rolling the cookie dough into perfect balls. She'd taken up baking during the lockdown. John kept telling her he was going to be out of shape for the next season if she kept it up, but he continued to taste test everything for her nonetheless.

Another month into the lockdown and Tori wasn't herself. She wouldn't leave bed, she was taking naps, and John could barely get her to eat. She claimed she was fine, but he didn't believe her in the slightest.

"Come on, baby. I made mac and cheese, your favourite," he tempted, sitting on the bed and running a hand through her matted hair.

"Not hungry."

"You've gotta be hungry. You haven't eaten since yesterday morning. And all you had then was a couple crackers."

"I'm not hungry. Let me sleep."

"You've been sleeping all day. Can you get up and take a shower for me?"

"Too tired."

"Tori, baby..."

She just rolled over, hiding her face in the duvet. He sighed, leaving the bedroom and going to eat the food he'd made... why let it go to waste.

"How's Victoria doing, love?" John's mom asked through the phone, worry lacing her voice.

"I can't get her to do anything except sleep. I'm trying, Mom. She just..."

"Do you know if she has a history of depressive episodes?"

"Yeah, one when she was in high school. But she said she learned skills to cope."

"Just be there for her, John. That's all I can suggest."

"Thanks, Mom."

Two hours later, Tori emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing the same clothes she had been for days and her hair desperately needed a wash to rid it of grease.

"Hi, baby," John smiled softly.

"Hi. Will you come take a shower with me?" she whispered.

"Sure, but first can you just eat a few bites of the food I made?"

"I... I don't know."

"Please, Tori. Just so I know you're eating."

"Okay."

She sat on his lap, picking at the bowl of pasta in front of them.

"Five bites and we can take a shower."

"Okay."

It took her 20 minutes to take those five bites, but she did it. The couple stood under the hot water of the shower, embracing the time together outside of their room. John helped her wash her hair and brush out all the knots. She forgot how nice it felt to feel clean. She turned in his arms, squishing her face into his torso.

"I've got you, baby. I've always got you. I love you so much."

"I'm sorry, John," she sobbed, "I've been a terrible girlfriend."

"Shh, no you haven't. You're just struggling right now. It's okay. We'll get through his together."

"I love you. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. I just want what's best for you. And rotting in bed isn't."

She leaned up and pressed a soft, loving kiss against his lips. When she went in for another one, he turned his head, her lips landing on his cheek.

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry," she cried again.

"No, no. I just... I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you. I love you so much, but I can't... do anything until you're yourself again. Okay?"

"Okay."

The next day, John helped Tori find a therapist online. Even going as far as to join sessions to learn how he could help her to help herself.

2021

Now that lockdown restrictions had been lifted slightly, Tori was thriving. She was going on daily walks and working on new coping skills to use when she felt that numbness creeping back in.

John was back to playing hockey and finally their lives had back some normalcy. A normalcy that had formed itself into a very... intimate love life for the two. There didn't seem to be a day that the two weren't having sex. Tori was pretty sure roadies were the only days they weren't falling asleep naked.

It was amazing, until it all came crashing down at the end of December. Tori had been feeling like shit for almost a week now. She felt sluggish and the sent of John before he showered after practice had her sick to her stomach. The idea of being pregnant though wasn't even a thought that crossed her mind. She had an IUD. They were safe. Surely it couldn't be...

"Do you want me to pick up a test, just in case? I know you said it's like almost impossible," John asked as he walked to his car at the arena.

"Sure, if it'll make you feel better. Pick up two, just in case one is faulty."

"Sounds good, babe. Be home in 20. Love you."

"Love you too, Johnny."

The couple stood in the bathroom, re-reading the instructions for the tests.

"I think it's self explanatory, John."

"I just want to make sure you're doing it right!" he swatted her hand away as she tried to grab the paper from him.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, sitting on the toilet with the stick.

"Yeah, just piss on it. Then we've gotta wait 5 minutes."

"Sounds good. You stayin' in here while I pee?" she giggled.

"I'll be right outside."

Peeing on the test was harder than she thought. It was like she couldn't get herself to pee, she was so nervous. After a couple minutes though, she'd put the caps back on and placed them on the counter.

"Come in, John. But I'm telling you, I'm not pregnant. Trusty old IUD keeps your sperm outta there."

"Maybe I've got really persistant sperm."

"I-" the timer rang. "You ready?"

"Yep."

At the same time, they flipped the tests, the plastic clattering against the sink as Tori dropped it.

"They- They must be faulty. False positive, right? Right, John?"

"I- is that a common occurance? I'll google it," he typed on his phone quickly, spelling half the words wrong, "There's less than a 1% chance of that, Tori."

"So? Maybe we're in that percentage. Did you even get good ones?"

"They were the most expensive ones! I just grabbed them!"

"They're wrong."

"Victoria..."

"Don't 'Victoria' me! They're wrong! I'm not pregnant! It's just a cold."

John rolled his eyes, "Can you at least go to the doctor? Get meds for your cold then."

"Fine! I'll make an appointment right now!"

"Perfect. I'm going to make dinner."

"I'm not pregnant," she whispered to herself as she typed in the number for her doctor.

"Is there any chance you're pregnant?" the doctor asked, staring into Tori's eyes.

"I have an IUD."

"I've seen it happen. Would you mind giving us a urine sample?"

Yay. Peeing into more things.

It didn't take long for the results to come back. The doctor entered the room holding a stack of paperwork.

"So, the urine sample came back positive for high levels of hCG. Which means you are pregnant."

"That's not possible."

"I know this is probably a lot to take in right now. I've written down some suggestions for a few OBs I reccomend. As well as some supplements we reccomend for the early stages of pregnancy. From the test, I'd say you're about three weeks."

"Shit. Um, sorry. Thank you. I'll, uh, call these numbers," Tori forced a smile, rushing off to get home.

"So? You are pregnant?" John asked, his eyebrow quirked.

"Yes. I just-"

"Okay."

"Okay? That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say, Tori? 'Yay! I'm so excited to be a dad at 24!' Cause that'd be a lie."

"Stop acting like this is all my fault!"

"I never said that! I just... we've never even talked about having kids! This is all very sudden."

"How do you think I feel?! I'm the pregnant one! Now I have to tell all my friends and family that I got knocked up at 22!" she threw her purse down on the counter.

"You told me the IUD would work fine."

"Why are you blaming me? God, John! Grow up!"

"I should grow up?! You're the one yelling at me!"

"You're fucking infuriating!" she shouted, stomping off to their room. The door shut with a harsh slam, making the pictures on the wall swing.

"Fuck me," John muttered, grasping at his hair.

John slept on the couch that night, not wanting to deal with being yelled at again.

"We should talk about this, Tori," he offered at breakfast.

"Why? I'll just get the pregnancy terminated. You don't it."

"Tori... can we think about this? Make a rational decision."

"Why? Is getting an abortion not rational?"

"Not what I said. I just think you're still angry about yesterday, so you're not think rationally. We need to make a decision together here."

She rolled her eyes, "You made it clear how you feel."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, I think your words were 'I'm not excited to be a dad at 24!' So, there's our answer. You won't have to be," she sassed.

"Victoria, sit down."

"You're not my fucking dad."

"Stop acting like a child! Sit down!"

John rarely yelled at Tori, so the tone of his voice had her sitting right back down.

"Thank you. Listen, I'm not thrilled to be a dad right now, but I'm not telling you to end the pregnancy. I- we can make this work. I want you to make the final decision, but I won't be leaving if you decide this is what we're doing. I love you. And I support whatever decision you make. I will love that baby unconditionally."

"I... I need time to think about everything," she nodded, her lips pursed.

"I understand. But I really don't want to continue this arguing. I want us to enjoy our trip to Massachusetts. Not dwell on this and see our family."

"Okay, I have another appointment in January. You can come... if you'd like. I don't want to tell our families yet."

"Of course... I love you."

She sighed, "I love you too. No more fighting?"

"No more fighting," he nodded.

2022

Tori knew that nobody in the waiting area was judging her, but she felt judged. Her leg was bouncing, her nerves getting the best of her. She was filling out the paperwork that they'd given her. John placed a comforting hand on her thigh, trying to calm her.

"They're removing the IUD today. I don't know if you wanna be in there when they do it."

"I'll stay for moral support."

"Are you sure?"

"Why not," he shrugged.

Tori opened her mouth to respond when her name was called.

"Is your boyfriend coming with us today?" the nurse smiled.

"Yes, if that's okay."

"No problem! The doctor will be right in. We're going to start with the IUD removal. So if you could just strip from the waist down, she can get started."

"Do you want me to turn around?" John asked, taking a seat on the chair in the corner.

"No? Nothing you haven't seen before."

She sat down, throwing the sheet they'd.given her over her legs.

"Nervous?"

"A bit. It hurt to get in. People say it's worse coming out."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Want me to hold your hand?"

"That'd be nice," she smiled.

There was a knock at the door, "We all ready in here?"

"Yep. Come in."

"Hi, Victoria! I'm Dr. Reese. It's nice to meet you!"

"Hi. This is my boyfriend, John."

"Nice to meet you as well! We're going to start with the IUD removal, then we can start chatting about baby. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Is it okay if John holds my hand?"

"Of course! Alright, scooch, scooch. Perfect. Take a deep breath for me."

Tori inhaled, squeezing John's hand. Her eyes screwed shut. A pained breath escaped her mouth. Even John squinted, watching as the doctor pulled on the little strings.

"And done!"

"Thank God," Tori whispered.

"I'll step out! You can throw your clothes back on and I'll be back in a minute with the ultrasound machine."

"You ready?" Tori asked John, buttoning up her jeans.

"Yeah," he shrugged, sitting back down.

John and Tori had discussed things the day before. They were keeping the baby. It was an emotional discussion. Talking about the logisitcs of the whole thing. Especially with her still in school and John playing hockey.

"Ready to see baby?" the doctor smiled brightly.

"Yeah."

"Mhm."

"Alright. I warmed up the gel, it shouldn't be too bad," Dr. Reese moved the wand over Tori's lower abdomen. "And here is baby."

It looked like a little blob, but it still made John's eyes water.

"So, you're about 6 weeks. Measurements look good. I'll want to see you again around 18-20 weeks. You can schedule that on your way out. Congratulations, again."

"You alright, babe?" Tori asked, noticing how quiet John had gotten.

"Hm, yeah. I just... I didn't think I'd be this emotional. Especially over what looks like an alien."

Tori laughed, "Don't call our baby an alien!"

"I'm sorry," he giggled, wiping his eyes, "But it does look a little like an alien."

"Okay... maybe just a little."

The couple left the doctors' office laughing quietly to themselves, their hands intertwined.

Six Months Pregnant - May 2022

It was three in the morning and Tori was sobbing, "You don't understand, John. We're out of pickles."

"I heard you. I just... I don't understand why you're crying."

"I need pickles, John," she cried.

"I- I don't know where to get you pickles at 3am. Everything is closed."

Tori pulled herself out of bed, storming into the kitchen. She dug through the fridge and freezer, trying to find anything that would help her cravings. She pulled a bowl of watermelon out of the fridge, digging in.

John sluggishly joined her in the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll get you pickles in the morning."

She just nodded, taking another forkful of melon. It wasn't as fulfilling was a jar of mini dill pickles, but it was helping. She couldn't even count how many jars of pickles she'd gone through during her pregnancy, but this was the first time they'd been out. It felt like the end of the world to her pregnancy hormones.

John loved Tori to bits, but the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy was beginning to make him tired. He knew it wasn't fair and that she was going through much more, but lord was he exhausted.

"Do you want me to stay here? Or should I go back to bed?"

She shrugged, shovelling more food into her mouth. John sighed, coming around the counter. He placed a hand on her waist and one on her growing stomach.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

She hummed, taking one last bite. They shuffled back to the bedroom, Tori hugging onto her pregnancy pillow. John fucking hated the thing, but Tori couldn't sleep without it, so... he'd deal with it for the next three months.

August 2022

John had just been traded from Pittsburgh to New Jersey and now... it was time for their baby to enter the world.

"Ah!" Tori gripped her stomach. She was walking around the hospital room, waiting to be fully dilated. John was being supportive as possible, getting her more ice chips when requested and holding her hand when ever she felt a contraction. "Is it time yet?"

"The nurse said it could be a while, because it's your first."

"It's going to be our only. Holy shit! Why did you do this to me?"

John laughed, "I'm sorry, baby. You're the strongest woman I know. You've got this. Do you want to use the yoga ball again?"

"No! I just want the baby out of me!"

"And they said that the yoga ball will help that."

"Fine," she groaned, squatting down on the blue yoga ball. John smiled, watching as she bounced up and down, her cup of ice chips in her hand.

"They'll be back with the epidural soon. Then it'll be smooth sailing," he comforted.

10 hours later and she was finally pushing. She was squeezing John's hand so tight he thought it might break. But he tried to be supportive nonetheless.

"One more big push, Mama," the doctor smiled.

"I can't do it."

"You've got this, Tori," John whispered.

"I can't do it."

"Just one more push and our baby is here, love."

She braced, feeling the pressure one last time. She pushed and a wail filled the room.

"And here's baby boy."

"It's a boy?" John was smiling so wide, it hurt his cheeks.

"It is. Want to come cut the cord, Dad?"

He nodded excitedly, watching as they gave his son his first bath.

"Here you go, Mama," they placed the baby on her chest.

"Hi, baby," she was too tired to cry, but her son was so beautiful. He had a head of dark hair which explained the heartburn she'd had during the pregnancy.

"We'll be back in a bit to help you get him to latch. And then they'll be in with the name paperwork."

"Here," John smiled, unbuttoning part of her gown so she could do skin to skin.

"Riley."

"Hm?"

"Riley Alexander Marino."

"It's perfect, baby. Here, I'll hold him. You get some rest."

December 2022

Things were falling apart. The couple was arguing almost every day. Tori was struggling. She hated the way she looked and that feeling of numbness was starting to creep back in. But she wouldn't allow it, she needed to be there for Riley.

John was going through the hockey season and adjusting to a new team. He was barely home. And when he was, he was beyond tired. Not being much help at all. Night shifts were nonexisitant. It was always Tori getting up to get their son. John either "slept through it" or "was too tired from hockey."

Everything came crumbling down a week before Christmas.

"You're not any fucking help! Ever!" Tori yelled, throwing the burp cloth down on the counter. "I haven't left the apartment in days! I haven't been able to take a shower in days! All I do is take care of Riley!"

"Your his mom! Did you think you wouldn't have to take care of him?!"

"God! That's not what I meant and you KNOW it! Your his dad! When are you going to step up and actually do some fucking work?"

"I'm providing for us, Victoria! Would you rather I quit and we have no income?!"

"That's it. I'm leaving!"

"You're leaving?! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere that you aren't, John. I can't fucking deal with you right now. Call me when you've grown the fuck up and decide you actually want anything to do with your son," she stormed off to the bedroom, throwing things into a duffle bag.

"Victoria! You can't just leave! Talk to me!"

"I can leave! I can do whatever the fuck I want!"

"You- you can't just leave with Riley!"

"Sure, I can! Not like you parent him at all!"

"Victoria!"

"No! Fuck off!"

The screaming woke Riley from his nap and his wails soon filled the apartment as well.

"Great! Look what you've done!" John threw his hands up in frustration.

"What I did? You're so fucking immature. Stop acting like you're 12 and start acting like the 25-year-old you are!" Tori went to the nursery, grabbing some of Riley's things and putting them in the bag as well. She picked up her son, strapping him into his carrier. John was standing in the door, shell-shocked.

"Please, Tori. Just think about this. Please."

"No. I'll be back for more of our things in a couple days," she shook her head, leaving John all alone in the apartment.

March 2023

It was official. John and Victoria were done. Tori had gotten her own place and Riley went to see John every weekend. Slowly but surely, John and Tori were forming a friendship. They wanted things between them to be good for Riley.

And this friendship leads us to where we are now...

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 26

18+ minors DNI

Author's note: I'm messing with his filming schedule. I know it's not accurate, I know there's years before these projects, I know there's stuff in between projects... but not in my world. so as john mulaney once said: get outta here with your facts.

Also, i'm aware this is short, this was originally going to be longer but I'm splitting it up.

xo

"I can't believe you don't like the ginger," Cillian said, taking his chopsticks and plucking the ginger off of Zoe's take-out container.

They were back at her apartment, changed into comfy clothes with sushi on the coffee table. The TV was on, serving just as background noise. Cillian and Zoe continued to talk about the new house, new furniture, estimated moving dates for Cillian and how ridiculous the home buying process is. Scout was sitting next to Zoe's legs, staring intently, hoping she would drop some food for him.

"I just can't wait for it to all be done, ya know? I hate living in between places and out of boxes... I just want to feel settled," Cillian said,after taking a sip of his wine.

"Hey! I'm offended," Zoe shot back. "My place isn't that bad."

Cillian put his hand on her knee and squeezed. "That's not what I mean and you know it, I'll live anywhere as long as you're there," He replied, giving her a kiss.

"Yea, yea, yea." Zoe said, taking another bite of her sushi. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

Cillian sighed and sat back against the couch cushions. He took out his phone and pulled up his calendar. "A whole bunch of shit. I have to to finalize when I'm flying out to film season 6 of Peaky, I have some fittings tomorrow for it, but we fly out... I don't know.. I don't want to think about it," Cillian said, rubbing his face with his hand.

"Me neither," Zoe said, quietly.

They both were aware these shoots last anywhere from 2-3 months. They both were also aware he would be filming this in another country, while Zoe would be here. They both wanted to ignore it, maybe in hopes the problem would go away, somehow.

Another thing Zoe was ignoring, was how fast this entire "relationship" was going. She feels like it was just yesterday she was arguing with him in a bar over spiked seltzers, and now they survived a PR relationship and possibly moving in together? He never officially "asked" her to be his girlfriend. God, do people even do that anymore? It's been so long since Zoe was in a real relationship. Maybe because they're older? Is this how fast everyone moves when they're in their 30's?

"Then let's not think about it," Cillian said, leaning forward and putting his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him.He kissed the top of her head as she sighed against him. Zoe leaned awkwardly against him, while her mind continue to race.

Fuck it, she thought. He has to leave, I'm not going to waste the couple days left I have with him dwelling on the days he won't be here.

Zoe spun her head and caught Cillian's lips by surprise. He was even more surprised when she deepened the kiss, taking her leg and swinging it over him, now straddling him.

"Woah," Cillian said, and Zoe cut him off with another kiss before he could say anything else, holding his face in her hands and grinding down her hips into his.

His hands flew to her hips, keeping her pressed tight against him, rocking her back and forth. They pulled away, Cillian panting. "I'm not sure what just happened but.. I like it," He said, hands still guiding her hips.

"Then stop talking," Zoe whispered, going in for another kiss.

Cillian stopped her with his hand on her jaw, staring at her intently. The blues in his eyes were gone, eyes dilated, staring her down intensely.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He said just above a whisper, his thumb trailing over her lips.

"I can think of a couple things," Zoe said, taking it upon herself to take his thumb in her mouth and sucking.

Cillian sucked in his breath, feeling her suck his tongue without breaking eye contact.

Zoe released his thumb with a pop, and raised her arms and hoped Cillian would take the hint. He did; he grabbed the hem of her baggy band t-shirt she wore and lifted it up over her head, throwing it to the side, leaving her in just her panties. Cillian immediately raised his knees so she would slide forward into his lap, grabbing her breasts and starting to kiss them while massaging them. Zoe arched her back into him, leaning her head back and beginning to grind her hips against him again searching for any sort of friction for the aching between her legs.

A moan escaped her mouth as he pinched her one nipple and sucked the other.

"That's it, let me hear you," Cillian mumbled against her, refusing to leave his spot on her chest. He was rock hard, and she was rubbing herself against him with just the right amount of pressure.

Cillian finally kissed up her chest, neck, jaw, finally landing back on her lips, hand flying to her hair to keep her in place while he kissed her.

"Too many clothes," She mumbled against him, shimmying herself out of his grip and off his lap to pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. After bringing them down along with his boxers to his ankles, she kneeled in front of him while remained sat on the couch.

"No," Cillian said, grabbing her elbow and pulling her into his lap. "I want to be inside you now."

Zoe smiled, standing up and resuming her position on the couch hovering on top of him. She stood up on her knees while she lined him up as he pulled her panties to the side. She slowly sunk down on him, sounds of each of them sucking in their breath filled the room along with breathy moans. Once the back of her thighs met his lap, signaling he was fully inside of her, she released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Cillian's hands found her hips, squeezing them but not moving them; he was letting her control when she began to move.

she began rocking back and forth slowly, feeling every ridge of his cock inside her. She had her hands braced on his shoulders for support as she moved her hips faster.

"So good," She moaned.

"You feel amazing," Cillian said, hands moving from her hips to her ass, supporting her rocking on his dick.

She began to move up and down, bouncing on him with his hands back on her hips guiding her.

Cillian now began to thrust up into her, meeting her as she came down on him. A loud moan escaped from Zoe, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip.

"That's it baby, take what you need," Cillian growled, squeezing her hips harder and thrusting harder into her. "Fuck, I can feel you squeezing around me, you like it when I talk to you like this?"

"Yes," Zoe moaned back. She was already so close to coming undone. "Please don't stop"

"I'm not gonna stop until I feel you cum around me," Cillian responded.

"You make me cum so fast," Zoe moaned, "I'm already close."

Cillian leaned back onto the couch, watching her. "You look so pretty riding me. I love watching you like this, God you're fucking perfect, you're perfect for me."

Zoe looked down to meet his gaze. Something about him staring up at her in awe, lips swollen from kissing, eyes dilated and mouth slightly parted, only turned on Zoe more.

"Fuck," Zoe moaned, bouncing faster on him. Her legs were on fire, but she didn't care. She was chasing her high, a high that Cillian could only make her see so quickly. No man has ever made her come undone as fast as he did, she was completely at his mercy.

Cillian sat back up again, "I need you to cum, Zoe," He said, kissing her. "I'm close, I need you to cum first"

"I'm so close, Cill, So close," Zoe moaned into his mouth. Cillian took his hand from her hip and trailed it down to her clit, rubbing small circles.

"Fuck!" Zoe yelled, reaching her orgasm and feeling the world crash around her.

"That's it, good girl," Cillian responded. She became limp in his lap, but he was quick to flip her over and lay her on her back on the couch, now on top of her. He continued to fuck her, now chasing his high.

"Fuck... fuck" He said, squeezing his eyes shut and finally stilling in her.

Zoe was still trying to catch her breath when Cillian lifted his head from the crook of her neck. They were covered in sweat, hair plastered to their foreheads, out of breath and tired. He leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed. Zoe took his cheek in his hand and rubbed small circles on his cheek with her thumb.

"I can't get enough of you," Cillian whispered. "You're so beautiful baby."

Zoe smiled. She didn't want this moment to end. She felt wanted, she felt desired. She felt.... loved.

"I....," She began, testing the waters. All or nothing, she thought.

Suddenly, a whine interrupted her and they both looked up to the cause of the noise.

Scout, in the corner of the room, was staring at them, probably wondering if it was now safe to come back to the couch.

"Scout, forget everything you just saw," Cillian said, sitting up and grabbing his sweatpants. Scout jumped up and darted to the front door, looking back at Cillian.

"I should take him out, come on lets go boy," He said, grabbing a hoodie and pending down to plant a kiss on Zoe's lips. "I'll meet you in bed, yeah?" He said, walking towards the door and grabbing Scout's leash. He quickly left, shutting the door behind him.

Zoe was left on the couch, partly naked, exhausted, and sweaty. She should get up and shower, she should get to bed, she should throw out the take-out containers left on the coffee table.

But she didn't.

Instead, she whispered out loud, soft enough so only she could hear:

"I love you."

tags: @lau219 @borntodiemp3 @cillianmurphyvevo @shopgirl6us

[thecountesstribe]

House of The Dragon 2x8 Spoilers and Review.

This is gonna be a rant but I'm still putting a spoiler warning cause some people were waiting for the entire season to drop before they watched. I was spoiled during the week and I'm mad as hell about it. Yes we all know it's fuck book canon atp but at least make sure the story flows and make actual sense.

The finale was mid. I felt like there were a lot of things missing and it was kinda confirmed. We're gonna have to wait 2 long years and knowing season 3 is about to just be the assassinations of characters because season 2 didn't really do anything, nothing moved story wise except the death of Jaehaerys, the sowing of the dragons seeds and the death of one of the realest women in Westeros. It was just glorified fanfiction and most definitely not the good kind.

I'm begging Ryan and Sara to please read or at least have someone else read the source material before they get back in that writers room.

Lucerys, Visenya and Jaehaerys deaths were supposed to haunt the narrative for the entirety of the season, how they could fumble it so bad that it just feels like a drop of water on your hands while washing it is beyond me. Blood and Cheese felt insignificant as fuck considering it was also a major event that led to the destruction and death of one of the most prominent houses in Westeros, majority of the Targaryen's lineage and the death of most of the dragons. I should've known when they started promoting the 2nd season as Alicent vs Rhaenyra instead of Rhaenyra vs Aegon II, y'know the usurper, that it was gonna be some bullshit. The other major events in the second season, Rhaenys' death also felt brushed aside. This is why the show needs to be at least 12-14 episodes. Abolish the 8-10 episodes shit.

I'm gonna get hate for this but could they please let this Rhaenicent relationship go! For the love of everything that is holy, let it go. Season 1 focused on them, fine. Season 2 you gave them a reunion, crazy but okay. There was literally no reason for a second reunion. Sure the scenes were beautiful, shout-out to the actors but let it go. The plot already felt cheapened when they chalked up the dance to one big misunderstanding. Which is crazy considering, Otto and the small council literally had this entire plan set in motion since Rhaenyra was named heir and even a little before. I need Ryan to understand that sometimes friendships just end. Sometimes your friends cross the lines one too many times and you just need to let them go. Alicent overstepped and crossed the lines with Rhaenyra it was downright disrespectful for Rhaenyra to even be in her presence at all tbh. This is the same woman who made her life a living hell, raised her children to be vile, hateful, spiteful little shits towards their own sister and her children, embarrassed her and tormented her in court, started and participated in the rumors and smear campaign about Rhaenyra's character and children, essentially ran her out of her own home, lied about the death of her father and the news didn't come from her or the council immediately but after and that's only because they were holding her former mil hostage and she got away. Alicent knew Viserys was addled and delirious and out of his mind when he was rambling about the conqueror's dream (she didn't know about the prophecy but still), so nothing he said was supposed to be taken seriously and just because he said “Aegon” she decided to be spiteful/hateful and usurp the throne knowing it would've hurt Rhaenyra. I don't know why people gloss over this fact either. Aegon said it himself, his father had years to name him heir and he remained steadfast to Rhaenyra's claim. Aemond said it again this season, the small council and his mother plotted to usurp the throne. What more was there to talk about? The only talking that should've been happening is Rhaenyra signing her and the council's execution warrants for treason. This all started because Rhaenyra omitted the truth about who took her virginity btw. She didn't lie, she never slept with Daemon in that brothel. Not to mention that Alicent son also killed her child!! Let it go!

I'm gonna reiterate this point but we didn't need to spend all that time with Daemon in Harrenhal and his hallucinations. That should've taken 3 episodes top and then they could've had him work on his relationships with his family instead. Especially his daughters. The only thing I liked coming out of the Daemon hallucinations is the prophecy. DAENERYS STORMBORN TARGARYEN IS THE “PRINCE” WHO WAS FUCKIN PROMISED!! NOT THAT BUM JON SNOW. Fuckin finally. We could lay the discourse to rest. GRRM could've posted it on a billboard for the entire world to see and it still would've had the select few that will insist on Jon being the one who the prophecy was talking about. The events in the show and the book supported this btw so I don't even know what the argument was about but let's lay it to rest now. Although show wise it doesn't fuckin matter either way because D&D fucked the last seasons but book lore wise this is what GRRM intended or intends. Still waiting on the next book! The term “prince” was gender neutral. And everybody celebrates. Daemon swearing allegiance to his Queen, as he fuckin should. Raising the army in her name as he should. He's got voices in his head now apparently. Also he has a new friend in Alys, good for him.

Aemond did what he was supposed to do this season. He's still an unhinged psychopath, absolutely no one is surprised. No complaints on my end. I need him to keep his grubby hands to himself though. Helaena gave him his death notice and rubbed in the fact that nobody gave a damn about him in the end, she did that for me.

Criston even though I hate to admit it, same thing. He's still a woman hating piece of shit though and I want him dead immediately. We didn't need all those alicole sex scenes though. We got it, they were fuckin, kudos.

Larys and the small council did what was also expected.

Aegon is still fried. Now he's apparently heading to Essos. He wants to usurp the moniker “Realm's delight” too and to that I say absolutely tf not. That is reserved for pretty women only. Aegon has officially been castrated!! That was for all the women in the realm. It's what he deserved. I don't believe for one second that Sunfyre is dead. I think that'll be a swerve.

I wished we focused on Helaena more though. Her grief was explored a little more than Rhaenyra's but it was also brushed aside. Why? That would've been important to her characterization. Also why did they have Helaena astral project into Daemon's dream? She was so cool as well, like that man didn't have a hand in the death of her son.... You can't make this shit up. The scene was essentially “you killed my kid cool but since you're so good at killing could you get my brother next?” I'm convinced they are doing this shit on purpose. Why do they keep making the female characters in the show this peace seeking, docile beings when they were just as and even more chaotic than their male counterparts (with reason might I add). The men just do the most unhinged shit for glory and in the name of war sake and the women gotta be the peacekeepers even though they're the most wronged.

Alicent's character didn't deserve half the screentime she got because if you cut her scenes in half the majority of them contributed nothing to the moving along of the plot. Absolutely nothing. We already had limited time as is.

Baela and Rhaena I am so sorry you have incompetent people telling your side of the story. Sure they got more lines this season and that's a stretch but they're lacking characterization as well. Ryan and Sara scrapped the Nettles plot, okay (that was fuckin stupid). Nettles had a major role to play. Gave her story to Rhaena in the last two episodes and we still didn't even see her claim Sheepstealer. It's up in the air. Also one of the princesses of the Realm managed to escape and you mean to tell me nobody is looking for her? She just fucked off and that's it. Yeah okay. Also I hated how they wrote her relationship with Jeyne. She was so kind to her in the books and Rhaena actually had a story in the books when she went to stay with her. Sure she would've been living her princess core era life but it's what she deserves. It would've helped flesh out her character as well, led to her hatching Morning and her life after the dance.

Baela lost the majority of her characterization as well even though she's inherently more fleshed out than Rhaena. Baela was chaotic as hell in the books. They swapped her personality in a sort of way with Jace, although he does have a temper (and rightfully so. They did kill his little brother and sister and he seems like the only one who cares) but Baela is supposed to be more unhinged than him. We only caught a few glimpses of her book personality and that's it. Again why are they writing the female characters as these docile, peace seeking beings? They also completely brushed aside their grief concerning their brother/betrothed, sister, mother and grandmother. I'm tired. We kinda got something for Baela in her grief but it was the bare minimum and it was barely mentioned again. Rhaenys was a parent to those girls (more than Daemon at least) and she got a fuck all remembrance. We totally should've gotten even better Jace and Baela's relationship development. We got her being more of his support system though they were each other's. Baela's feelings weren't explored more besides her hating her dad. Unless they're planning to explore it more in season 3 but well y'know 💔. Her telling Jace to stop pouting though and him insisting he's not even though he totally was🤣🤣😭😭. She gathered him and rightfully so. Also their unspoken conversation during the dinner scene with the dragonseeds. Peak wife and husband behavior. I hope we don't have to mourn for what could've been more than we will already be doing.

Rhaenyra character this season was all over the place. They only stick to what her character was from season 1 in episode one and then after that it was like she did a 180. She was destroyed by the grief of her son, daughter and father. They completely forgot that and had her doing the stupidest stuff. She had one of her biggest supporters die as well and it was just cast aside. Development wise we got to see her more open. I'll give them that. They also brushed aside her grief. It felt like Lucerys didn't matter to her in some instances. I have a feeling they're gonna go down the “mad Targaryen” role for her as well. If a woman has to be in power then she has to go crazy. That's what that cult Rhaenyra vibes is giving. I'm not tripping, you guys see it too right? I touched on the second reunion between her and Alicent but her whacking her this last episode was satisfying. I don't trust Alicent's plan and Rhaenyra knows and hopefully she sticks to it. She knows that she has to kill Aegon now. A son for a son. This is who I wanted to see this season. It's like she got back her personality traits in the last episode. She still needs to work on her standing as queen. She had that bum Ulf disrespecting her at the table and she needed to have his tongue expeditiously. Mysaria and her are doomed yuri confirmed. Mysaria has her ear but is only telling her what she wants to hear and that is going to be her downfall. I still can't figure out her angle though but we'll see in season 3. She inadvertently hurt Jace again when she chose Addam to go to Harrenhal. It's like one step forward and then 3 steps back with them. I'm hurt knowing the possible outcome of this situation. Daemon and her reunion were good. I like how she didn't fall back into his arms. Stand on business and continue to stand on business Rhaenyra.

Corlys grief was brushed aside. He didn't really do anything this season besides deny his sons, lie to his wife in his last moments and try to make his legitimate granddaughter heir after laughing off the idea of making his other legitimate granddaughter heir. His ship is finally fixed though. “The Queen Who Never Was ” is the new name of it. I had tears in my eyes, I could admit it. I'm not ashamed. Everything that he's doing now he's doing it for Rhaenys. 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Why did he wait so freaking long to honor her properly though 💔. There is no denying he loved his wife, he just could've loved her better. I'm glad Alyn dragged his ass for being a deadbeat though. Gave his ass a reality check he so richly deserved. He hurt those boys and he deserved to know. Imagine your father could've made your life easier but he decided to be a coward while favoring his other children, a tongue lashing would've been the least he got, I would've fought him. They're on to meet the triarchy though.

Jacaerys character was developed stellar this season. He didn't have plenty of screentime and he was mugging down for most of it but the rage, the grief, the despair was all palpable. He lost a part of his soul in Lucerys and it was there for everybody to see. He didn't get anything to do until the later half but when he got to go he did. I said it before and I'll say it again I love his and Baela's relationship. Him resting his hand in her lap after her scolding and her gently massaging it. Yeah those are real lovers. His beef with Ulf is so personal to me. Like yes threaten that uncouth vermin some more. Really reminded me of his fathers there. It's crazy though how Addam and Jace parallel each other though. Two of the best boys in Westeros that deserve the absolute world. Fate was unkind to them both as well.💔

Shout-out Simon Strong. One of my favorite characters this season along with lil Oscar. I love how he didn't let that traitorous snake Alfred slide. He let his queen know immediately. I love a loyal diva.

Tyland and the triarchy were funny though. Who would've thought I could've shown a Lannister besides Cersei love?!

I'm wrapping up this rant cause it's already so long-winded. The show is only slated for 4 seasons though btw. LMFAO.

Until next time folks. Take care of yourselves in the meantime.

Until season 3 folks.

[irisbleufic]

Of all the bullshit I never expected to be back on with the same intensity of October through December of 2000, Beetlejuice was not it. But I finally got to see the musical yesterday, and the part of me that has adored all 94 episodes of the animated series from the moment I started watching them on ABC Saturday mornings in 1989 just fucking flared—this fond, awful tightness in my chest. It’s the first TV show I ever imprinted on; it’s been with me since childhood. Surreal.

About 4 years into watching the cartoon, I finally saw the live-action movie that the cartoon was based on. I hated it, because it was so malevolent and empty compared to the incredible world-building characters in the animated series. Serious shout-outs to Stephen Ouimette and Alyson Court for all that stunning, hilarious, and often moving voicework.

Now, okay, I need to go back to 2000 again to make this all make sense. I’d watched the show from 1989 until whenever the 4th season ended. It wasn’t until I was in my first semester of college, newly transplanted to New England, that I found a couple folks within my program who had loved the show growing up, too. I ordered all of the episodes on VHS. It was difficult to track them all down in 2000, and it was expensive. But I pulled it off, and we had Friday night watch parties for weeks over the month of October. But that is not where this ends.

I was in the process of winding down the writing I’d been doing on Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow for the entirety of my senior year of high school. Suddenly, I’m in college and watching this fucking cartoon and thinking, there is so much heart in this. How the fuck is there so much heart. I haven’t seen two characters this wholesome codependent in, well, ever. I went looking for forums and mailing lists devoted to the cartoon. I found a mailing list. There were a handful of artists drawing amazing fancomics on there, and they were like, what do you do? Oh. I write. And they were like: do you understand how desperately some of us have wanted fic, but just can’t find it?

That is the wrong thing to say to me when I’m on a downward spiral of realizing I’m not going to escape a fandom without getting myself into a project so long that it’s all I’ll be doing for fucking months on end. If you’re one of the people who knew me back then, you know what I did for those four months in the fall/winter of 2000. I wrote a novel. Sure, I came close to failing a couple of classes, but it was the first time I understood exactly what I was capable of building as a fanwriter. Maybe even as a real writer.

“Time Will Tell” was hosted on a friend’s Angelfire site for a handful of years. People found it via LiveJournal, too, because I linked it there. I put it on AO3 somewhere circa 2012 and took it down again in 2017 because I didn’t feel there was enough interest in it, and also, my 19-year-old editorial foibles and typos were aspects I wanted to amend in it.

The musical took more inspiration from the cartoon than the film. I’m stunned and grateful for that. I found the “Time Will Tell” file buried pretty deep in my Gmail folders. I’ve been reading it since the drive home last night. I just can’t believe there’s now enough of a fandom for me to consider finally polishing it and getting it back online. It’s one of my two oldest surviving pieces of writing.

Anyway, sorry for the Gotham fic delays that I’d been trying to get a handle on. Now that the semester’s over, I feel that getting this thing I wrote twenty-three years ago back to the light of day is the best use of my time for a couple weeks.

If you’re one of the people who read “Time Will Tell” back in the day, thank you. I don’t know how many people out there still remember it beyond maybe ten or so friends I’m still in contact with all these years later. I’m sorry it disappeared for a while.

[giowritess]

fortnight [1]

gif by @dameronscopilot

pairing | Benny Miller x female!reader [Grace Stratford]summary | you somehow end up pretending to be Benny's girlfriend for two whole weeks. is your heart going to survive that? probably not. warnings | mentions of sex, alcohol, mentions of cheating by a third character word count | 1.7k author's note | so. happy new year! i deeply apologize for not showing my face here for the last two years lol things have been complicated and i haven't found the time to write. i've recently fell in love again with the miller brothers from triple frontier and this came up completely random, it's gonna be a small series and i'll post as soon as i write them. future smut. no mentions of y/n; grace's name is only mentioned once. english is my second language and this wasn't proofread so i apologize for any mistakes. hope you enjoy it. xx masterlist | main masterlist

fortnight

"Meaning: 14 days; fort·​night ˈfȯrt-ˌnīt : a period of 14 days : two weeks."

Pretending to be Benny Miller's girlfriend for two whole weeks wasn't how you planned to spend your days off, but here you were.

After working so hard for so long, you finally had your well-reserved month off, plus a few days more. You spent a few days with your family and now were all set to enjoy two weeks of summer bliss at a friend's super fancy summer house, along with lots of other friends and others not so much, as you soon found out.

The moment you got there, you could hear the laughter coming from the house—a mansion, one could say—even from your car. The moment Will showed up at the doorway, Maddie, your best friend and his girlfriend, jumped out of the car to run to him and you rolled your eyes. They saw each other yesterday. But then Benny showed up at the door, shirtless, laughing as Will picked Maddie off the ground, and you sighed. 

Yeah, you had it bad, and he was completely oblivious to it.

While you and Maddie made the trip there, she filled you in on a lot of things. The house belonged to Luke's parents, Luke being an Army buddy of the boys and your long time friend since high school. What a small world, right? Besides him and the three in front of you, you couldn't say you were “friends” with that many other people there. At best, “acquaintance” was the most appropriate word, but you didn't mind, you were there to enjoy the summer, the Fourth of July and Luke's birthday. But the thing is, Maddie also told you some other rather interesting things. Benny was pissed for two reasons: one, he was the only single guy there, and two, his ex-girlfriend was there with her new boyfriend. His ex that, according to Maddie, was the one who broke things up and he still had a thing for. His ex that Maddie hated because she was a typical Regina George—nevermind being almost thirty.

The idea started to form in your head the moment Maddie told you all that, but you still weren't so sure of it.

The thing was, your relationship with Benny was weird. Since Maddie was your soul sister and you were always around when you weren't deployed, he was basically a brother-in-law to you. You two had always been friends, got along just fine; there was, however, one alcohol-filled event two years ago that changed the trajectory of your relationship. 

You still remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. You'd just gotten back from deployment, happy to be home at the beginning of summer, your favorite season. Maddie and Will were in the early stage of their romance, lots of longing glances and unsaid words, so you were starting to be around Will and Benny more frequently. The thing was—you had a thing for Benny since, well, ever. You just couldn't help it, guys who knew how to make you laugh were your downfall, and it was only a bonus that he was handsome as fuck and had eyes that made your parties drop. Suffice to say, Benny Miller was your dream guy, but he never made a move on you as seemed interested in you. It wasn't that you weren't brave enough to go for it—you just couldn't bear the possibility of being rejected by him, so you accepted your fate of liking him from afar. 

That night in particular, your first night back, the four of you were at your favorite bar to celebrate your Captain promotion—after four whole years in the Air Force, you finally had a helicopter to call your own. To say you were happy was to say the least; you were estatic. Your little brother would be proud of you. All drinks that night were on Maddie and the boys; you weren't a heavy drinker, but that night you let loose and really enjoyed yourself. And shit, you could swear Benny had never looked as good as he did that day. It didn't help that you hadn't had sex in a million years and he was basically sex on legs, nor did the fact that the trash bag of your ex, who cheated and dumped you through a phone call while you were overseas, had just walked in with his brand new girlfriend, the one who he cheated with. It served only to make you want Benny even more—he was so much more man than your ex, and you'd bet an arm that he was better at sex, too. You were sure of it, even though the only place he'd been recently (every night) was in your dreams. 

You were both drunk, you more than him. Maddie and Will had abandoned you already. You weren't sure how—maybe because of your sex deprived and lust-filled mind—, but the subject turned to sex, asking each other what sort of crazy things you'd already done. The thing in question was 69, which you'd never done, and Benny surprised you when he denied it, too.

And then, maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins, fogging your brain. Or how close he was and how good his perfume smelled. Or maybe you'd just had enough, so you said, taking a sip of your beer:

“I bet you know how to properly eat a girl out.”

You saw the moment his eyes darkened, one of his eyebrows raising up. He slowly placed his beer on the table. You didn’t breathe, feeling as if you were about to die while waiting for his reply. 

“Wanna find out, Captain Stratford?”

You were bracing yourself for a rejection, for him to say he wasn’t interested in you that way, anything but that. You definitely weren’t expecting that. He didn't ask, but you'd never had sex in a car before. Or had three orgasms on the same occasion that weren't self-induced before. But yeah, he was way better than your ex, and your dreams. 

But then it got awkward between you two afterwards. Sure, it was the best sex of your entire life, and sure, you'd love for it to happen again, but you weren't really sure how to treat Benny. So you tried to act as natural as possible and so did he, almost as if pretending that nothing had happened. Except it had, and every time you looked at him, you remembered it. Everytime you looked at his hands, you remembered how well he worked you up with those long fingers. Everytime you looked at his face, you remembered his beard glistening with your juices after he made you come twice with his lips alone. Whenever you saw him holding something, you remembered how good it felt to have those fingers wrapped around your throat while his cook hit every right spot, again and again. Safe to say, you were having a hard time focusing whenever he was around, and it made you wonder if the remembered it, too, when he looked at you, because sometimes you could swear he looked like he did. And sometimes... sometimes he looked at you the same way he did that very same might when he asked you that question. But then it faded as quickly as it came. So you tried to treat him like you used to, but for the past two years it seemed to have an elephant in the room with you, and you just didn't know what to do about it.

Truly, you'd already accepted that nothing would ever happen between you two again. But the moment Maddie told you all that, the gears in your brain started working. It was risky—what if he didn't like it? And honestly, why? It wasn't as if you really wanted him to get back with his ex... yeah, there was no rational motive you could come up with. At least no motives that weren't selfish. But then, still sitting at the driver’s seat in your car, you glimpsed your ex, wrapped around his current girlfriend—a new one, who looked suspiciously like you—by the pool, and that gave you the courage to go ahead with your plan. So that was how you found yourself in your current predicament. Exactly when Benny was awkwardly talking with his ex, still by the door, you called out his name and went to him, the surprise evident in his face. And then you kissed him.

This was the defining moment. You were scared of his reaction—and then he kissed you back, way more fiercely than you expected, his tongue slipping into your mouth, until the girl in front of you cleared her throat.

“And you are?” She asked, and the tone of her voice made you want to strangle her.

Instead, you took the jealousy and anger cursing through you and transformed into confidence, and you gave her your best smile.

“I'm Grace,” you replied, and you felt Benny's eyes on you. “Benny’s girlfriend.”

You didn't know what surprised you more: the giant scowl in her face, or one of his hands going around your body. 

“I'm sorry, what is it again? Pam, Tam?” You asked before she said a thing.

You knew damn well what her name was.

“Sam,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Oh, that's right. Lovely to meet you.” You turned to him, dismissing her entirely. “Help with the bags?”

He nodded and gave her an apologetic look, before grabbing your hand (another surprise) and following you to your car. The moment you opened the trunk, he let go of your hand and you already missed the contact.

“What's going on?” He asked, confusion clouding his beautiful features.

You glanced around to make sure you were alone and tugged him closer.

“Look,” you whispered, “both our exes are here, and according to Maddie, you still like her. This way, you make her jealous, maybe win her back, and I rub it in his face that I landed someone way better than him.” His lips tugged up in the slightest shadow of a smirk. “What do you say?”

You didn't realize you were holding your breath until he replied.

“Huh. That's really smart,” he said, surprising you once again.

You expected him to say something more, but then he grabbed the bags and walked back towards the house.

And that was how you found yourself pretending to be Benny Miller's girlfriend for two weeks.

Would your heart survive those two weeks? Probably not.

by @reveriesources

➜ part two

[christinesficrecs]

Happy holidays in advance ❄️ 🎅 🎄 ! Whenever and if u have time Pl share fics where stiles or Derek have the bad boy image. Thank u!

Hey you! Happy Holidays!! 🎄⛄️🎄 I love it when they're both bad, very 10 Things I Hate about you. 🥰

A High School Cliché. by halelujah | 2.8K

“Are you the one that played a porno in the Principal’s office?” A gruff voice asks.

“Depends if you’re the one that threw a dumbbell through a window.” He drawls, not bothered in moving from his comfy spot.

The Athlete & The Criminal by damnfancyscotch | 12.1K | Explicit

“What’re you doing here, Stilinski? Did you only score half the winning points at the last lacrosse game instead of all of them?”

Stiles snorts and says, “I thought you were locked up, Hale.”

Derek huffs a laugh and drawls, “Not quite yet.”

The Great Pretender by talktowater | 45.2K | Explicit

Stiles is the new kid at Beacon Hills High, class of 1958 and he's trying to make an impression. Derek can't figure out why this kid is so set on making such a bad one.

Six Minutes by  CosmoKid | 4.3K

“What do you want?” Derek practically grows when Stiles is near enough to hear. He can definitely feel the werewolf vibes coming from the guy as well as the fuck off vibes that roll off him in tsunami-sized waves.

Stiles has one thing he needs to say to Derek, but he also has eight million questions to ask him about the werewolf thing and he can barely sort out his thoughts as it is, let alone when there’s a ridiculously attractive werewolf who’s basically Adonis staring at him. Derek takes another drag of his cigarette and raises his eyebrows at Stiles expectantly. He shivers and blurts out, “Six minutes.”

Finstock’s Wilderness Camp for Boys by  rainsoakedshoes | 12.1K

“What happens if I don’t go?”

“You get charged with breaking and entering, and you will probably serve time in a juvenile facility,” the sheriff said matter of factly. “That’s if you’re lucky enough to be tried as a minor.”

“You’d send your own son to jail?” Stiles asked in disbelief.

“You broke into someone’s home, Stiles!” The sheriff took a breath to compose himself and ran a hand across his face. “And this isn’t the first time. I can’t keep bailing you out of trouble. I don’t have any favours left to call in. Either you agree to go to the camp and clean up your act, or you risk getting tried as an adult.”

Don’t Judge a Derek By His Cover by  captaintinymite (augopher) | 4.5K

Stiles doesn’t care about the rumors surrounding Beacon Hills High School’s resident bad boy, Derek Hale. In fact, he thinks the rumors are total crap. Of course, being secretly in love with someone has a way of clouding one’s judgment.

However, he knew for a fact that Derek liked books. So when the two paired up for a final English project, he was excited (but also a little terrified).

But you know what they say…never judge a book by its cover. The same goes for people.

The Best Bad Things by  TroubleIWant | 10.5K

“Fuck,” Stiles moans again, squirming desperately against Derek’s crotch. “You gotta - gotta give me something.” He does his best to slide a hand into the back of Derek’s underwear, and gets far enough that his middle finger brushes the base of his spine.

“I am,” Derek says, reaching back to grab Stiles by the wrist. He deftly pins both of the kid’s arms above his head and grins, all teeth. Stiles goes quiet, then, chest heaving and eyes wide. This is what he’s here for, after all. To feel like he’s doing something dangerous.

"Five Days in Detention" (A Future Song by Stiles Stilinski) by alisvolatpropiis | 3.4K

It’s still preseason, sure, but he needs to be practicing. He led the team to the State semifinals last year, and he’s determined to not only make it to the finals this year, but to win the title. He should be on the field right now, practicing his play calls and prepping for next week’s season opener against Saint Pius.

And he can’t do that if he’s wasting his time in detention with these losers. There are a couple of burnouts lazing over some seats by the window, one kid with his face on a desk, hood over his head, and a few Goth kids are sitting in the back corner, looking surly and morose. Maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you didn’t listen to such shitty music, he thinks, turning towards his usual seat in the back of the room.

He pauses for the briefest of moments when he sees who’s already sitting there, in the second-to-last row, black-clad limbs spread out, acoustic guitar in his lap, long fingers casually plucking at the strings.

Stiles Stilinski.

[joeshiestyslover]

i hate u

pairing: lsu!fratboy!joe burrow x volleyballplayer!reader

summary: you and joe were together before he transferred to lsu, when he broke your heart, but what happens when you end up transferring to the same college?

warnings: language, angst, joe’s an asshole

a/n: i got some inspo from a request and tied in a sza song bc i love her. also there will be a part 2

lowercase intended

masterlist

today’s the day your entire life changes, but little do you know, in more ways than one. a couple months ago just before your junior year ended, you were offered an athletic scholarship to play volleyball for lsu instead of ohio state. you immediately accepted because as much as you love your home state, you were tired of sitting on the bench waiting to finally play on the court. lsu offered you a starting position, so you would’ve been crazy to not say yes. 

you’re ready to leave ohio behind and forget the bad memories, well one bad memory in particular. you began dating your childhood best friend in college, after waiting for him to love you back your entire childhood. ever since you met, you both were inseparable, doing absolutely everything together, including college when you both were accepted to ohio state. the moment you started dating, you were the happiest you had been in a long time, and that happiness you thought would last forever, it only lasted three years. 

he decided to transfer from ohio state to lsu to play football because he was never given the chance to be starting quarterback, and lsu just happened to give him that chance. you were worried at first because he was going to be the furthest away that he had ever been, but he was quick to reassure you everything was going to be fine and that he was never going to forget about you or neglect you. 

oh, how you wish you never believed his bullshit lies.

after a couple weeks of him being in louisiana, he started to call less, basically ignoring your entire existence. you had planned to talk to him about it one night over facetime, but that morning you received a text from him that simply read, i think we need to take a break. you texted and called himnumerous times, trying to get him to explain, but he never responded or picked up your calls. after hundreds of unread texts and voicemails, you gave up. you still tried to keep up with him, looking at his social media accounts, until one day, when you checked a post he was tagged in, you saw him at a party making out with a girl that was perched on his lap. your heart broke, and you decided to block him on everything so you could move on; something that he had clearly already done. 

you are currently carrying the last of your boxes into your dorm room, chatting with your new roommate, eve. “so, why’d you transfer here again?” she asks you. “volleyball. i was tired of sitting on the bench all season.” you respond. “all season? damn.” “yeah i know. it fucking sucked, but that’s why i’m here now.” you tell eve. you finally finish carrying your boxes, and you decide to unpack tomorrow. you lie down onto your bed with a huff, “i forgot how much i hate moving.” you joke. suddenly, you hear a knock at your door, and eve jumps up to answer it. as she opens the door, she exclaims, “joe!”

no. it can’t be.

“oh my god, you have to meet my new roommate. y/n! come over here and meet joe!” you stand up, and slowly start to make your way towards the door. you look at the man in front of you, and make eye contact with him. “y/n!” joe exclaims. “it’s good to see you!” you only offer a small smile in return. “wait, do you two know each other?” eve questions, looking between you and joe. “umm just in passing.” you say, and joe gives you a confused look. “okay? me and joe are going to a party, so i probably won’t be back until after you fall asleep; so i’ll see you later, alright?” eve says. “yeah okay.” you reply as she walks out with joe. as you shut the door, you lean your back against it. “oh my fucking god this can’t be happening to me.” you say quietly to yourself. 

the next few days go by relatively smooth, with you finding your way around, getting your jersey along with your practice schedule, and adjusting to your new classes. you even were able to make a friend in your econ class, ja’marr. ja’marr told you that he’s a wide receiver for the football team, so you knew that he knows joe as well. about a week later, your roommate asks you the question you’ve been dreading. “how do you really know joe because the way he looked at you made it seem there’s more to the two of you than you let on.” you didn’t know how to answer her. you want to tell the truth, but do you want to trust someone you barely know with one of your worst memories? 

“if i tell you this, you cannot tell anyone, okay?” you tell her seriously. she nods, waiting for you to continue. “so, joe and i sorta dated back when we both went to ohio state.” “oh my god really?” she asks, shocked. “wait, there’s more. not only did we date, we were best friends since like childhood. he was literally my next-door neighbor.” eve’s jaw drops. “what happened between you two?” she inquires. “he broke up with me a couple weeks after he transferred here, over text.” “no! over text?! what a douche!” she exclaims. “i know, but after a while, i got over it, and now i’m here.” you say to her. “holy shit. that’s so fucked up, and i promise i won’t tell anyone.” “thank you eve.” you tell her. “but i am going to give you my honest opinion. i think you should talk to joe.” “no.” you have no interest in talking to that sleazeball. “why not? you two can finally clear the air and move on! don’t you want that?” eve tries to reason. “if he wanted to clear the air, he would have done that when he first broke up with me instead of being a coward and not responding to my texts or calls.” you state. 

almost on cue, you hear a knock at the door, maybe it’s one of eve’s friends. you really hope so. “oh hi joe. can you give me and y/n a sec? thanks.” she shuts the door, and you stand up from your bed. “do not tell me you brought him here eve!” you raise your voice slightly. “listen i had no idea about your history with him, so i invited him over here yesterday to watch a movie. i’m so sorry!” eve apologizes. “it’s fine. i’ll just go. text me when he leaves.” “come on, y/n! i think he actually wants to see you!” she says. “well, tough because i don’t want to see him.” you begin to walk towards the door. “please! just stay for a little while! if it gets too much for you, i’ll ask him to leave. please stay.” eve begs. “fine, but you owe me big time.”

eve opens the door, and there stands the boy you fell in love with almost twenty years ago. you briefly make eye contact before looking back at your roommate. “okay joe, come on in. i’ll put on the movie.” you try your best not to look at his face as you both sit down on the beanbags on your floor. the awkward silence deafening until joe speaks up, “so y/n, how have you been?” “umm since you broke my heart, then ran off like a coward? oh i’m just peachy keen!” you say back to him sarcastically, not bothering to make eye contact with him. your remark seems to shut him up until eve comes back over to the both of you after starting the movie.

all throughout the movie, you notice joe stealing glances at you every so often, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t doing the same. once the movie’s over, you’re waiting for eve to kick his sorry ass out of your dorm. for some reason, he isn’t leaving, and you try to get eve’s attention, but she’s too caught up in some conversation with joe. finally, eve walks over to you, and joe is still not leaving. “so umm, i know i said i would tell him to leave, but he wants to talk to you.” she says sheepishly. you sigh, knowing how stubborn joe can be. “five minutes. that’s it.” you tell her. she nods and walks back over to joe, and he looks back at you with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint. “i’ll be back guys. y/n, please try not to murder him.” eve calls out to the both of you. 

“so what do you want to talk about?” you ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “i just wanted to tell you that i’m so sorry for what i did to you. i was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it. i just want you to know i never fell out of love with you. hell, i still love you, but-” “joe, stop.” you cut him off. “you don’t get to say you’re sorry because you sure as hell weren’t sorry when you broke my heart a year ago.” you say, coldly. “i know that i can never change what i did to you, but i just want you to know that i really am sorry, even if you don’t believe me.” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “i thought you loved me joe.” you say, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “i did love you! i still do!” he starts to raise his voice. “bullshit joe! you’re so fucking selfish! i don’t know why you give a shit all of a sudden! is it because you feel guilty? or do you just feel sorry for me?” you yell. “y/n-” “i don’t care anymore joe! you know why? it’s because you are not the person i fell in love with years ago!” you seethe. “i know, y/n. i know. it wasn’t fair for me to do that to you.” he tells you, looking at his shoes. “you can’t even look at me joe! i mean, did you ever realize you were hurting me? or did you just not care?” “y/n please-” “shut up joe! i hate you! it was so shitty of you to make me feel like that! god, what i would do to make you feel the way i did when you ripped out my heart and stomped on it!” your tears are falling down your face, stalling at your chin, and you don’t even bother to wipe them off. “y/n, just let me explain.” he begs you. “no! you had your chance to explain while you were off fucking random girls last year! you know what joe? fuck you!” a silence takes over the room, and you decide that you’re done with this conversation and joe. “get out.” you say calmly, looking him straight in the eye. “what?” joe’s voice wavers slightly. “you heard me. i said five minutes and it’s been five minutes. it’s time for you to leave.” “okay i understand.” he begins to walk towards you door, but stops to tell you, “just so you know, it has always been you, y/n. i never stopped loving you.”, his voice breaking on the last word, but you just give him a slight nod before he walks out of your dorm.

you walk over to your bed and sit down, staring at the ground. a wave of emotion washes over you, and you start to sob uncontrollably, your chest heaving, feeling as if you can’t breathe. you don’t notice eve being in the room until you feel you bed dip next to you, and her arms wrap around you. you lean into her as she comforts you and tries to calm you down. you don’t know when you could ever forgive joe for what he did to you, but it certainly isn’t now.

a/n: i kinda hate this but oh well

[britcision]

Anyway I dunno how helpful this is gonna be to anyone but me, but uh… I… may have made a lil summary list of all the chapters of Dungeon Meshi by who’s in them and the vaguest description of what happens

(This began when I was trying to see if Chilchuck and Mithrun had been in a single panel together pre finale for Fanfic Reasons - they had been

One. Single. Panel.

Before Mithrun fucked off upstairs at Thistle’s house)

There are OBVIOUSLY spoilers it’s chapter by chapter but I like being able to pinpoint where the fuck to search for random obscure details so: Spoilers Below The Cut

DunMeshi chapters

1 - Falin goes down, leaving the dungeon, meeting Senshi. Giant scorpion hot pot

2 - man eating plants vs plant eating man

3 - basilisk hunting, meeting Doni and Fonil

4 - how not to pick mandrakes

5 - Chilchuck the trap expert, cooking with traps

6 - living armour, Laios first death

7 - analyzing and eating the living armour, Kensuke acquired

8 - Senshi and the golems

9 - veggie knight Laios, meeting the orcs

10 - meeting Kabru, treasure bugs

11 - spirit sorbet

12 - living paintings, first sighting of Thistle

13 - Chilchuck vs Mimics

14 - hair is important for magic, Anne actually does not like you sir, kelpie soap

15 - corpse collectors find Kabru, Kabru Swears Revenge, instant mermaid tpk, mermaids hate Laios’ singing

16 - kraken attack, parasites in parasites

17 - Marcille and Falin flashback, making fake dungeons, the natural dungeon, rip Laios

18 - planning rests, Marcille vs the Undine, Marcille low on mana - need lots of iron, Namari approaches

19 - Namari and the Tances meet Laios and co, the Undine is Super Duper Mad Actually, how resurrection works in the dungeon, fun with tentacles

20 - the undine fight part 2, trying to send Marcille to the surface for mana reasons with Namari and the Tances, Namari discovers the adamantine wok, Tances to the surface

21 - Laios and co down the shortcut full of tentacles, frog suits

22 - Tances to the governor, Namari and the twins visit a resurrection centre and bond

23 - Laios and co down to the castle town, how to fight the dragon awake and without Shuro? Mapping the town, planning

24 - leading the dragon around, Kensuke defects, stabbing feet is mid actually

25 - backup plan, let’s stand on a pot full of fireworks, the sacrifice play, Laios may learn some healing spells pls

26 - flashbacks with Laios, Falin, and the puppers, healing everyone up, excavating the dragon’s stomach and also guts

27 - putting the bones together, not enough left to reach the surface, it’s Fucked Up Necromancy Time, we gots a FALIN

28 - rest and recovery, dragon cooking season, Falin’s a lil OP now, Thistle Has Opinions

29 - hey guess what there’s still dragon in there, Thistle and Falin vs Laios and co, ghost rescue

30 - orcs on the fifth floor, Chilchuck would like his friends to live please, retreating to the surface?

31 - well shit going back is less easy than it looks, the moving maze, dryad snacks

32 - Tance resurrects Kabru and co, Kabru Swears To Go Home And Chill, attack of the corpse collectors, Kabru Has Morals

33 - Kabru and co working out who keeps “stealing” their stuff, a look at Laios and co from the outside and they all look shifty, sea serpent, Shuro and co meet Kabru and co

34 - teaching Laios healing magic, infinite energy in the dungeon, Laios mana sickness, the castle town is moving again, cockatrice, Marcille is petrified and pickling

35 - Chilchuck maps the dungeon city’s changes, dungeon cleaners, Shuro and Kabru and co arrive

36 - Kabru is kinda creepy okay, Chilchuck has something almost like a map, So Did You Fucking Save Falin (it’s complicated), Splitting The Party But For Safety Reasons, Laios tells Shuro and Kabru what has been happening including his Questionable Decisions, Shuro Backstory Via Maizuru

37 - Shuro is stabby and Kabru is a dick, HARPIES, Laios Maybe Should Not Have Told Shuro, Falin on the rampage

38 - Kabru Fucking Murders Falin (or DID he), reviving everyone, Laios vs Shuro, Marcille can MAYBE heal people I GUESS, Kabru has anatomy question, monster dinner for Kabru, Kabru and Shuro’s combined co go back to the surface and leave their supplies behind

39 - Suspiciously Convenient Downwards Stairs, why are we being attacked anyway, shapeshifters are just like us actually, Laios and all his impressions are super obvious so you can’t be mad

40 - Laios and crew with the shapeshifters cooking challenge

41 - Izutsumi joins the party, use your tools properly, decursing Izutsumi

42 - nightmares, Laios and Marcille

43 - reaching where the dragon fight took place, ice golem, Izutsumi and Chilchuck bond

44 - Izutsumi gets Namari’s coat, flashbacks with Izutsumi, barometz

45 - Kabru and Shuro’s crews reach the surface, Canaries reach the governor and Kabru reports, Laios Sees Dead People

46 - spirit kidnapping, the Golden Country and domesticated monsters, the mad sorcerer’s curse, Prophecies And You

47 - dungeon pancakes in the golden company, Yaad experiences Consequences, frozen over floor, That Is A Griffin Not A Falin

48 - griffin done kidnapped Senshi, making familiars, it turns out crafting skills are important, Senshi rescue

49 - Senshi’s Tragic Backstory™️, griffin vs hippogriff soup

50 - first changeling day! Elf Senshi, through the golden door

51 - changeling’d Laios and co vs gargoyles, We Are The Mushroom Circle, wash up

52 - dwarf elevator, Falin and Laios backstory, Canaries reach the dungeon

53 - Kabru, Namari, Canaries, the shadow governor and Mithrun being intensely fuckable

54 - Kabru, Namari and Shuro, mushrooms attack, Thistle Sighted

55 - Mithrun vs Thistle Round 1, Laios’ party have been changelinged take 2 (ogre Marcille) and eating ointment

56 - bicorn Laios’ party, the Chilchuck wife reveal

57 - flashback Falin and Laios take Marcille to the dungeon for the first time, headless horseman comes for some bicorn

58 - Laios’ party, succubi attack and the party goes down, Izutsumi focused

59 - Izutsumi’s succubi and party replenishment

60 - Laios’ succubus dreams and winged lion conversation, Laios the Dungeon Lord

61 - Kabru backstory reveal, Mithrun’s broke ass self reveal, Be sure not to want too much, The Ship Begins

62 - Mithrun the Dungeon Lord, footrubs work fuck you, their week alone and teleport scroll to meet up with the Canaries

63 - Laios and crew find Thistle’s house, phoenix fight and cooking, found book 1

64 - Marcille opens the book, need to make a meal for Falin

65 - dungeon rabbits and Marcille’s corpse tour

66 - top floor of the dungeon, Bickering Next To Holes Is Bad Actually, Kabru and the Canaries have a snack and Mithrun will not fucking stop staring, Laios and crew prepare a meal, Thistle is Suffering

67 - flashbacks with Laios and Falin, Laios kills Falin, Ready to take and have something taken

68 - Thistle’s backstory, someone has CLEANED, fuck you winged dragon

69 - Thistle and the Dragons nearly rock up a tpk

70 - Thistle shoulda researched dragons more

71 - Laios bondages Thistle to solve problems, Thistle instead creates a new problem

71.1 - Daydream Hour 4, character sketches, Canaries

72 - Thistle’s Brand New Feeder Fantasies, winged dragon eats Thistle and frees Laios and co to recover, Izutsumi finds Yaad

73 - Marcille is hung over, the Canaries and Kabru reach Thistle’s house, Cithis decides it’s hypno-time and Mithrun hunts down Thistle for round 2 (unneeded)

74 - Mithrun constantly accidentally menaces Marcille, Marcille unseals the winged dragon

75 - Mithrun vs Demon round 1, Marcille becomes Dungeon Lord and spiders it up

76 - Kabru, Canaries, Laios and co aftermath of Marcille’s leaving, dealing with the injured, Kabru sucks at explanations and Lycion is impatient, Canaries lose Laios and co

77 - orcs have captured Shuro and Namari, the dungeon shifts

78 - monsters running rampant, Namari and Shuro and Flamelle trying to work out what to do to save the world, sides picked for/against Laios as Dungeon Lord (he isn’t but okay)

79 - Marcille sees Falin and her dad, Laios and crew don’t drown yet, the Canary familiar army gets weird and eats them and promptly regrets it

80 - pooped out by coatl, Laios and co reunite with Marcille to discuss wtf, demon is a stripper, Laios says maybe stop Marcille says stay in the kitchen and make me a sammich

81 - Laios and co getting into Marcille’s past with FakeDad, do in fact make her a sammich, it does not work and subterfuge is still needed to escape

82 - phone calls on the surface, dungeon is leaking

83 - Kabru and the Canaries see the crack, monsters line up for combat, Marcille gets a new outfit that 1000% does not stop Mithrun from coming for her ass, Mithrun vs Marcille round 2 but he’s been listening and totally tries talking her down one whole time, Canaries tpk’d except Lycion

84 - Laios rescues Lycion, reconnects with Kabru Shuro and Namari, demon shares its goals and sides square up to contain the dungeon, monsters stop to let Laios and co through to see Marcille

85 - Laios and co find Falin in the tower, Marcille drowning in desires but the strongest one is for DRAMA (Chilchuck’s family)

86 - monsters will not listen to Marcille’s stop, sealing the bookhand demon, How do I stop being a dungeon lord?, Laios offers to defeat the demon and resurrects Mithrun on that alone so he signs off on eating Falin

86.1 - Daydream Hour 5, alternate outfits and more Canary stories

87 - demon backstory, needs other site

88 - Laios and co inside the demon (still a thot), Laios makes a deal

89 - dropping of Marcille and the gang with Namari and the Canaries, “Laios” makes a break for the surface but IT IS MITHRUN WITH A STEAL CHAIR Mithrun vs Demon round 3, still no noticeable success

90 - what if y’all go hang out with monster Laios instead, The World Is Ending And It’s All My Fault (Marcille and Kabru), Mithrun Is Having None Of It, Marcille and co chase down “Laios”, demon arms go claw machine

91 - vore and reverse vore, Laios vs “Laios”, get cursed bitch

92 - back down the tower then oops gotta escape the dungeon anyway, Marcille and gang find Namari, looking for Laios

93 - Now We Have A Dinner Party, different groups coming to help, found Laios

94 - elves in the aftermath, Mithrun serving up Falin, leftovers and veggie scraps

95 - meal, About That Golden Country, resurrection take 2

96 - epilogue

[tmntkiseki]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles Forever Liveblog

Movie opens with the Purple Dragons doing a robbery of some sort. Hun, what are you up to?

I really, really love the little sequence that introduces the 2003 turtles. The animation is so slick and cool-looking.

Also, it's kind of interesting how the 2003 segments are animated in a (more detailed) version of the Back to the Sewer style, with Splinter, Casey, and April maintaining their BttS designs? But the turtles themselves look more like how they did during Fast Forward (it's because we're back to having white slits for the eyes, thank god.)

Seriously, if Back to the Sewer had looked more like this, it probably wouldn't be the only 2003 art style I do dislike to an extent.

We were only just properly introduced to the 1987 turtles and I'm already understanding why people abhor how they were characterized for this movie (I say this as someone who has literally only seen two episodes of the 1987 series. Specifically, the very first one and the Mona Lisa episode.)

Hun is gonna regret taking that mutagen BIG TIME.

03!Mikey likes the initialed belt buckles.

Underrated animation detail: the 1987 turtles are animated using a simple one-color shading approach while the 2003 turtles are animated with more detailed two color shading.

87!Raphael's reaction to meeting 03!Splinter is adorable.

I'm glad that 03!Mikey is enjoying the company of the 87 turtles, at least.

I know a major sore spot for this movie is the fact that the original 1987 actors couldn't reprise their roles due to circumstances out of anyone's control, but I am loving 87!Shredder's voice.

BEBOP AND ROCKSTEADY

03!Raphael getting mad at 87!Donatello for kill stealing is making me laugh more than it should

I hate to break it to you, Krang, but 03!Shredder and 03!Krang are one and the same.

87!Shredder being disappointed that 03!Shredder is an Utrom is hilarious knowing that the little red blob is actually an intergalactic terrorist who has literally killed billions of people over the last several centuries.

All it took to wake up Ch'rell was 87!Shredder referring to himself as, well, the Shredder. Nice to see being frozen in a block of ice didn't get rid of his ego.

Other things from Back to the Sewer I do like: The Hauler. It's a massive improvement design-wise over the moving van from Seasons 4/5 that served as the second Battle Shell.

Poor, poor, foolish 87!Shredder and Krang. If there's anything I've learned watching the 2003 series, it's that you can't keep Oroku Saki/The Shredder/Ch'rell down forever.

KARAI IS HERE, BABY

Honestly, I do like Karai's outfit from Back to the Sewer. If she had her original haircut and was depicted in a different art style (you know, one that doesn't make her look like stick), I'd actually say I'm quite fond of her overall design. (I have a similar attitude towards BttS!Casey, too.)

Karai is seriously not taking any shit from the 1987 antagonists

03!SPLINTER REFERRING TO BOTH DONATELLOS AS HIS SONS AAAAAAAAAAH

Hun, repeat after me: I do not want the 87 ooze. The 87 ooze is bad. Bad things will happen to me if I try to get more of the 87 ooze.

He didn't listen.

Other aspects of Back to the Sewer I appreciate that show up in Turtles Forever: The 03 Turtles directly addressing Splinter as "Father" rather than "Master."

Hun, I fucking told you that you did not want that mutagen!

Damn, Hun must feel humiliated bowing down to the Shredder and calling him "Master" again. (Not like he has a choice. Are the Purple Dragons even going to listen to him anymore?)

RAHZAR????

Damn, this is the third time that the 2003 Turtles have had their home destroyed ;A; They're so used to it at this point that they don't even react in anguish this time.

Oh boy, even Mikey is finally sick of the antics of the 87 turtles (though in his defense, they did kinda teleport out of their lair when Splinter was in trouble and all four 03 turtles are worried sick for their dad.)

They deliberately had 87!April getting kidnapped by the mutant banana after the turtles left to make her seem more helpless when compared to the 03 version, didn't they?

This scene with 87!Splinter giving 03!Leo and 03!Raph some bowls of rice, oh my GOD ;A;

Hun isn't wrong that as long as they have Splinter, the turtles will come running. These boys would do anything to protect/save their father.

How many people do you think died when 03!Shredder unleashed the Technodrome on New York City?

Turtles Forever is a lot more... destructive than I was expecting. (2003 dimension is straight up getting TRASHED.)

Okay, that bit where Leo pointed out that at least Raph isn't stuck riding on the blimp like Mikey is got me to laugh.

2003 turtles are slowly but surely warming up to the 87 turtles. This is development I like to see.

"If there is one constant in the multiverse, it is the predictability of you turtles! Threaten something you hold dear, and you will ignore your better instincts!" You didn't have to call them out like that, Ch'rell.

SAME AS IT NEVER WAS

God, the fact that The Next Mutation is the only major iteration not featured when Shredder does his entire rant on the multiverse and how the turtles pretty much always win XD

NOT THE TURTLES

Casey was straight up going to cry when he thought the turtles had all disappeared with the Technodrome.

2003 dimension literally being reduced to inks, blue pencils, and then flat out nothing is really cool from an animation standpoint but also highkey terrifying

Welp, this scene confirms that the Purple Dragons are, in fact, still listening to Hun despite the fact that he's been mutated. That's good for him, I guess.

The scene where April and Casey disappear, HELP

"Ain't exactly Mister Roger's Neighborhood, is it?" -- 03!Raphael, accurately describing Turtle Prime. (He loves it.)

Mirage!Leonardo's narration as he and his brothers fight the 03 and 87 turtles JDSKGJDFKJGKF (Doesn't help that it's ripped directly from issue 1)

Mirage!Raph calling the 03 and 87 turtles sellouts on account of the multicolored headbands... wheeze.

Karai really is having second thoughts about helping her father destroy the multiverse, huh?

Fucking Mirage!Shredder getting taken out by the 87 and 03 turtles hurling a bunch of garbage at him SJGKJDFGKFDKGJ

"If there's one constant in the multiverse, it's the Shredder's big fat ego!" Oof, 03!Leo.

Shredderzilla?

KRANGZILLA?

The only thing this final fight is missing is 87 and Mirage!Splinter.

Okay, seriously, what was with that bit where 87!Leo, Raph, and Mikey all broke down in tears and looked to 03!Raph for comfort?

WHEEZE, THE MIRAGE TURTLES ACTUALLY SCARED 03!SHREDDER

Ch'rell seriously does not care that he is literally going to destroy himself if he destroys the Mirage turtles, Jesus Christ.

And the Turtles Multiverse was saved... By Bebop and Rocksteady?

This bit where the 87 and 03 turtles use each other's catchphrases as they say goodbye is really sweet.

"Oh, I sure hope this thing sells." "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Sobs.