#he needs the sunglasses because the lights on the tree are so bright

[agentsterling]

Instead of an Elf on a Shelf, children should be assigned a SHIELD agent who does incident reports.

Our tree didn't pass today's inspection because of this dead bulb. Fury Claus will be hearing about this in his next report back to HQ. 🥺

[astroboots]

Omg please continue with the Miguel fang prompt!!! It’s too cruel to stop there!!!!!

HIDE AND SEEK

Summary: Miguel and you plays hide and seek.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Content: Hunter predator kink (I think that's what we're calling it?) anyway explicit. Miguel is a bit rough.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

It's all too easy to get lost in the crowd in a city as crowded as New York. You slip in among a throng of tourist standing around like a flock of pecking hens, their faces dipped down at their phones, huddled over google maps as they try to figure out how to get to Broadway as if it's not within goddamn walking distance, right down the street.

In a nervous habit, you fiddle with the watch on your wrist. Your eyes flick over the bright light that tells you it's 11:28pm.

Which means, there's still 32 minutes left.

God this is the slowest hour you've ever lived through in your life.

You squeeze yourself in the back, behind a woman with a large hat and larger sunglasses, even though it's evening and the sky is near black. The only things left illuminating the sky now is glaring shop signs, aggressive LED lights, and the mega-spectacular ads display that is brighter than the goddamn sun.

Peering over the madness of the crowd, you try to spot the familiar sight of his all too recognizable build looming over everyone else.

But there's nothing.

He's not here. You let out a long held in breath, your chest sagging with relief. Of course he wouldn't be here.

Times Square has over 300,000 visitors passing through every day. 300,000 sweaty, exhausted individuals drenched in perfume and deodorant that would make it impossible to pick up your scent. Thousands of people speaking all at once, over the angry noise of honking traffic that would make it impossible, even for him, to pick up the sound of your distinct footfall.

No, He won't be able to catch you here. That's why you came here after all.

You glance down at your watch again. 11:31.

Shit! How has only three minutes gone by?

Shaking your head, you look up at the sea of people.

You'd better get moving. Even in a crowd, if you stay still for too long, it won't be safe.

Walking briskly down the wide street, it's a struggle to squeeze through the ever moving crowd as the glaring lights change from makeup ads to theater marquees. You're peering over your shoulder with every three steps you take, constantly expecting the familiar sight of his messy curls to peek out a foot above the crowd.

He's so damn tall there's no fucking way you'll miss him if he's found you. You'll get plenty of advance warning, you reassure yourself as you continue to move forward.

Your eyes settle over your watch again.

11:46. Fuck you sideways.

You know you shouldn't keep checking it every two seconds like this, because all it serves to do, is to ratchet up your blood pressure so high you're going to need to start taking medication for it.

How is time moving so slow. You shake your head in exasperation, and for a fraction of a second you swear you see it.

A flash of unmissable dark navy glowing with red.

You freeze. Your back feels like ice, cold damp sweat breaking out along your spine. You snap your eyes back but there's nothing there now. Nothing but an anonymous crowd.

What the-- How could he have just disappeared into thin air?

He's 6 feet and fucking 9 inches. Taller than your refrigerator back in your tiny studio apartment. The top of his head beats out your fucking Christmas tree. If he was here, he'd be impossible to miss. You don't fucking miss a giraffe when you visit the Brooklyn Zoo, so why are you having such a fucking hard time spotting him? How the fuck does he move so inconspicuously?

Was it just your imagination?

You glance at your watch: 11:46. Gotta be kidding. Is time standing still now? Has it just decided to stop moving altogether?

You force yourself to step forward and ignore how your knees seems to cave at your own weight as you sink into the pavement with every step.

In the corner of your eyes you spot him. Clearly this time. Real. Not a figment of your imagination. He's only a few steps away from you. The familiar pair of glowing scarlet eyes fixed on you.

Oh fuck, shit. Shit! Your heart races at the sight, beating so hard you think you feel it in your lungs. You're already sprinting in the opposite direction without thought and the only thing guiding you is the pure impulse to escape.

You push through the crowd, sprinting forward without taking in your surroundings. All you care about is to get away as your gaze is fixed on your watch.

11:52. Eight more minutes. You just need to stay away for eight more minutes.

You keep running as the crowd seems to thin, and the colorful lights and noise of traffic fades away. Then you finally stop, catching your breath to look up at your surroundings.

It's empty and void of people. A large empty van is blocking the narrow alley from view of the main street, and there's an unlocked gate that you've come through.

On the other side from where you've come from there's a tall bricked up wall as far as the eye can see-- a dead end.

How the fuck did you manage to find the only deserted dead end alleyway in central New York?

Shit you need to get out of here, you won't be able to run away if you're trapped here.

You glance one more time at your watch.

11:57. Three minutes. 180 seconds. It's all you need and then you'll win.

You turn your heel back towards the gate. But it's too late.

The dim light of the alley is eaten up by a large and imposing shadow.

He's already here.

The familiar navy blue and the menacing red sprawled across his chest fills your vision, blocking your only path to escape. All you see is red eyes glowing so bright it lights up the dark alley with it.

"Time's up," he says, mouth curled into a mocking smile so wide that you can see his fangs peek out from his upper lip.

That's when you realize you are well and fully trapped like the helpless prey you are in his spider's web. You're right where he wants you.

God you're so damn stupid. You were safe in the crowd. But one sight of him had you spooked and running into the only alley to be found in all of New York.

Shit.

He'd planned this all along. The bastard's must've been the one who opened the gate. And you had ran in here like some scared witless rabbit straight into his trap.

You could try to escape him. Some vain, silly leftover pride in you, is adamant that you still have at least two whole minutes to get away.

He steps closer, and you can't help but instinctively step back as he does.

You know it's a game. Know that he would never hurt you, but that hungry and predatory red glow in his eyes has fear spiking along your spine all the same.

"Miguel, wai--"

The rest of your futile plea dies in your throat. His broad palm covers your mouth and jaw, and even your startled squeak is muffled into silence as he presses you up against the wall.

You whimper into his hand, but he doesn't relent. Doesn't ease up, even as he leans down and hushes you. Despite the soothing tone he uses with you, it isn't comforting at all. It drips with condescension as he press his lips to your bare throat.

"I'm gonna take my prize now, nena," he murmurs into your skin and because your brain is broken, with no sense for survival instincts, every part of you tingles at the amused threat in his voice.

"You promised remembered?" he reminds you.

And of course you do. It's hard not to, when the bastard's got you pinned against a brick wall in an abandoned alley like something out of a horror movie.

Fuck. He's taken this way too seriously. You don't know why you had suggested the world's dumbest hide and seek with this competitive and unreasonable man.

He presses you into the hard brick behind you, like there's anywhere left for you to go. And you can feel it. The proof of his excitement pressing up against your stomach, pinning you against the wall. He's hard.

Any residual resentment at your loss gives way for excitement when you feel his cock twitch and jerk against you.

The edge of his teeth rests on your bare shoulder as goosebumps breaks across your skin, and you feel dizzy. Anticipation swirls in your stomach with an intoxicating warmth.

You can't fucking breathe.

His hand snakes up your dress, wedging your panties to the side, until you can hear the fabric rip and tear. Shit, you're going to kill him for that.

The thick head of his cock presses in and stretches you open, as he forces his way inside of you, in time with his sharp and whetted fangs sinking into your flesh. Electricity pings across your nerves, sweet and euphoric and you feel drunk with it.

He's filling you, inch by hard and relentless inch, until you swear you can feel him lodged in your stomach. You feel so fucking full. Full of Miguel until nothing else fits anymore, but he doesn't stop.

His cock nudges along an impossibly deep spot inside you that has you losing orientation and makes the space around you spin, and he's still not fully inside.

White blinding pleasure streaks through your every nerve and crowds your vision, as he sinks you down further on him, until your vision goes blank. He's so fucking big. Always is no matter how many times you take him like this.

Pleasure pool with heat in your stomach as he holds you in place, impaled on the thickness of him.

Your limbs go boneless, unable to hold up your own weight, and for a moment you're not sure if that's the venom released to your bloodstream or just the effect he has on you. You only remain upright because he's propping you up with his body.

His mouth skims along your throat, dragging his teeth up until his fangs tease along the shell of your ear, with the threat of sharpness. The edge of them barely graze your skin, completely unlike the feral impatience he'd sunk into you with, as he whispers into your ear.

"Found you, nena."

Dedication and credits: This piece is dedicated to @foxilayde for her utterly deranged (and amazing) post that had me SALIVATING. Thank you for putting this brainworm into my head. I am shooketh.

[libraryofgage]

Steddie PJO AU Part One

One (1) person asked for this, and it was only after I told them I'd had an idea, so, like, fuck it we ball.

The parents of the various kids will be revealed as the series goes on, but I'll look forward to your guesses along the way!

Also, I haven't read the books in a hot fucking minute, but the trailer has had me in a chokehold. This is written more for fun than anything else, so just shut off your brain and enjoy the ride without thinking about accuracy. You'll love it, I promise!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

With a low, frustrated growl, Eddie tears a page out of his notebook, crumples it into a ball, and throws it on the floor of his tent. All he gets for his troubles is another page of lyrics underneath the first that fail to actually do what he wants. "Fucking shit prophecy," he mutters, tearing that page out, too.

It hits the ground right as Chrissy pokes her head into the tent. She watches it bounce once before settling on the ground. "How's the songwriting?" she jokes, letting the tent's flap fall shut behind her.

"Bad," Eddie says, dropping the notebook and standing. He glares at the paper balls and kicks one away. "Just as bad as the prophecy itself."

"Aww, it's not that bad," Chrissy says, walking a little closer and playfully punching Eddie's arm. Her smile is bright enough to make Eddie feel like he needs sunglasses, and that isn't even because Chrissy's father is Apollo. That's just all her. "At least your prophecy doesn't promise, you know, horrible death."

Eddie scoffs, turning to look at Chrissy as he gestures at his Def Leppard shirt and torn jeans and chunky rings and general metalhead vibe. "Do I look like someone who should be getting that prophecy?" he asks.

He doesn't wait for her to answer before scrunching his face and reciting in a high, mocking voice, "You shall witness an unfair fight between land and sky where feathers with great reluctance fly. And as the sun is shining bright, you shall be swaying in the moon's sweet light."

By the time he's done, he's clasped his hands and held them up to his face with an exaggerated doe-eyed expression. Eddie drops it the moment he finishes, his nose scrunching in disgust as he rolls his eyes. "I have a reputation to uphold, Chrissy."

She doesn't take his complaints seriously. Instead, Chrissy rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of Eddie's cot. "Sure, sure, you're too cool for anything good to happen to you. Still, you might be better off if you didn't try turning that prophecy into something angry."

Eddie huffs, kicks another paper ball, and drops to a crouch next to the cot. After a few seconds, he begrudgingly admits, "Yeah, maybe."

Chrissy sympathetically pats his head, her touch warm and light, and smiles at him. "In other news, we've got another retrieval request for you," she says.

"Oh, boy, work."

"C'mon, you enjoy them," Chrissy says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. "A cyclops sighted some demigod kids running around with, well, she wasn't sure if he was also a demigod or not. But they won't be safe long when they're clustered together like that, so, go bring 'em back."

She passes Eddie the piece of paper and watches as he unfolds it and frowns at the two words written there: "Athens, Tennessee."

"Are you kidding me? That's so cliche," Eddie says.

"Yeah, but at least it's not California or something."

"Thank fuck for small miracles," Eddie mutters, folding up the paper again and shoving it into his pocket.

Looks like he's got packing to do.

The sun is shining, birds are tweeting, and a cool wind is blowing across the park. Steve lets out a slow breath, his shoulders starting to relax as he leans against a tree and watches Will and Lucas lay out a few blankets, Mike and Dustin get into an argument about the scale proportions of the Parthenon, and Max, Erica, and El throw a frisbee between them.

It's been a long month, one that seemed to be filled with more running and near-death experiences than they're used to. And they're used to a lot of running and near-death experiences.

So, taking a day to just relax in the park sounded great when El suggested it, but Steve had still hesitated. Who knows what could find them if they linger in a park too long. When he voiced these concerns, the kids just banded together to convince Steve, and he relented when they compromised on him bringing the nail bat along.

"Steve, do you wanna lay down?" Lucas asks, gesturing to the blankets. Will is already there, stretched out and smiling up at a rainbow stretching across the sky.

Steve joins them, pulls a Bluetooth speaker out of one of the backpacks holding the blankets down, and connects his phone. Music starts playing, and he sprawls across a blanket, pillowing his head on his arms and taking in the sunshine. "You know, this is nice," he says.

"Yeah. We should do this more often," Will whispers, nearly drowned out by the grass rustling in the breeze.

Between the breeze and the music, Steve starts to drift off, his breathing evening out as his mind wanders. He's half asleep when he hears Dustin shout, "It's a fucking one-to-one asshole!"

His words are quickly followed by Mike shouting back, "Who gives a shit?!"

Steve sighs and adds his own voice to the mix. "Stop fighting!"

"Yeah, guys, stop fighting," Max says, and Steve can imagine her tongue sticking out at them as he hears Erica snort.

"Oh, fuck you," Dustin shoots back.

"That's it!" Steve announces, sitting up and glaring at the kids. "Get over here."

His voice leaves no room for argument, and he'd feel bad at how the kids deflate if he didn't already know they're all menaces. Once he's got all seven kids on the blankets, he sighs and says, "Look, guys, let's not fight. How about we all just sit here for a bit, enjoy the breeze, and then we'll go get lunch."

The kids glance at each other, a silent conversation that Steve barely follows passing between them before Mike nods. "Yeah, sure, I guess."

"Great, now, just re--"

"Oh, how cute!"

The sudden, saccharine voice sets Steve's entire body on edge. He slowly looks over his shoulder, staring at the middle-aged woman smiling down at them. Something about her is familiarly off, but he tries to give her the benefit of the doubt. So, Steve flashes a charming smile and asks, "Hi, can I help you with something?"

The woman's smile turns a little sharp, and she shakes her head. "Oh, no, I just had to commend you on your ability to round up these kids like that," she explains.

Steve hums and pushes himself up, keeping a hold on his bat so he can rest the end on the ground and lean on it. He feels more than sees the kids start to shift until they're behind him. "Well, thanks. Did you want advice or something on caring for your own kids?" he asks.

She laughs, short and grating on Steve's ears, and then tilts her head not unlike a bird. "No, no. It's just impressive that you've managed to keep them alive for so long," she says, her voice distorting and becoming shriller as she speaks.

Yep. There it is.

"Wow, that's even faster than usual," Lucas says.

He's right, which just makes Steve even more upset. Can he not get more than fifteen minutes of peace? Can he not just lay back and enjoy the sunshine without worrying about some monster coming after his kids? Can he not fucking relax for once?

Steve feels the frustration build and build in his chest, crackling through him until he's ready to burst, and he stands up straighter. "I'll give you one warning," he says, his voice low as he watches feathers sprout from the woman's skin. "You walk away right now, and I won't beat the shit out of you."

The woman, who seems to be mostly bird by now and is probably a harpy, just laughs again, like Steve's told her the funniest joke she's ever heard. "You? Defeat me?" she asks, her eyes roaming over Steve before she laughs again. "I am worse than your nightmares. I have eaten more demigods than you can count. I have feasted on their screams and crunched their bones between my teeth, and I look forward to doing the same with these children. What could a lone son of some lesser god possibly do to stop me?"

From behind him, Steve hears a few of the kids inhale sharply, an almost sympathetic sound. "Well, she's done it now," Erica says.

"Yes. Steve is going to kill her," El agrees, her voice soft and brushing against Steve's ears like a tiny snake.

And yeah, they're right. Maybe Steve would have just beaten her unconscious and then gotten the hell out of dodge, but now she's threatened his kids. She's lost any chance at mercy from him.

With a twirl of his bat and a vicious grin, Steve rolls his shoulders back and says, "Wanna find out, overgrown chicken?" he asks.

He doesn't even bother waiting for an answer before swinging his bat, the nails dragging across the harpy's chest and ripping a shriek from her. Now that Steve is thinking about it, violence is also a great way to relieve stress, and he's certainly not going to look a gift harpy in the mouth.

----

If you'd like to be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

[misc-obeyme]

Heyy! First of all, congratulations on hitting 500 followers! I hope your blog will get even more attention, because it's absolutely adorable and you're a great writer qwq♥ If it's possible, I'd like to ask for the event♥

What about Moonlight with Mammon? (sorry, he's my favourite- oof xD) also please make it gn! if possible, so everyone can enjoy your writing as much as I do♥ Feel free to decline it too qwq♥

Congratss again on hitting 500! May you get more!♥ *hugsss*

Oh my you're so sweet! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing!

I'm quite fond of Mammon, too, though I'm always worried I'm going to write him out of character! But hopefully this turned out okay.

Thank you for participating in the event!

GN!MC x Mammon with prompt Moonlight

Warnings: none this is all fluff!

You woke up with a gasp, sitting up in bed and trying to remember the dream you were having. It was something vaguely unpleasant, but it was gone before you had a chance to fully grasp it. It was probably better that way… that dream felt like one you probably didn't want to remember anyway.

You looked around in the darkness and realized you were thirsty. Carefully you slipped out of bed and moved across the room. You no longer needed to turn a light on to find your way through it or even through the House of Lamentation itself. You'd been here long enough that you could easily walk through it in the dark.

You went out into the hall, closing the door softly behind you. You were about to make your way to the kitchen when you heard a soft thud and a whispered "owww" coming from the foyer. You smiled to yourself. You recognized Mammon's voice instantly and knew he was likely sneaking into the house after spending the evening getting himself into trouble.

Out of curiosity, you decided to turn and go down to the front door instead of the kitchen, just to see what he was up to.

The front door was ajar and Mammon was sprawled haphazardly just inside. It was clear that he had tripped over a large duffel bag that was full of some fangol equipment Beel had left there earlier. To be fair, that space was normally empty, so he hadn't been expecting it.

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a little laugh when you saw him. He jumped to his feet and squinted at you in the dark.

"MC?" he asked.

You came closer. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. Are you okay?"

Mammon looked around the room urgently before grabbing your hand and pulling you out the front door, closing it as quietly as he could behind you. Then he moved off into the front garden, under a few large trees before turning to you. He saw that he was still holding your hand and dropped it quickly, a blush spreading across his face. "Ya gotta be quieter, MC, ya nearly blew my cover!"

"Me? You're the one who was making all the noise," you said. "And anyway, do you really think Lucifer doesn't notice when you try to sneak in through the front door?"

Mammon groaned. "I tried the windows, but they were all locked."

You laughed a little, taking both of his hands and moving him out from under the trees. The moonlight was shining down in full force here, washing everything in a bright silver glow. The way it lit upon Mammon's white hair made him look as though he had an inner gleam surrounding him. You couldn't resist taking off his signature sunglasses so you could see the brilliant blue of his eyes shining in that silver light.

You pulled him a little closer, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before using your teleportation magic to transport both of you into his room. He stared at you for a few moments before looking around and taking in what you had done.

You smiled, putting his sunglasses back on his face. "You're lucky I got thirsty in the night."

Mammon grinned and it was like his face was illuminated by the moonlight again. "Thanks, MC," he said. "What'd I ever do to deserve ya?" He pulled you close and gave you a soft kiss.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[ask-the-royal-absol]

*It took a few moments for Destino to get used to the feeling of the ground underneath their paws. Although they had a rocky flooring in the Underdark, it didn’t quite have the same texture as this. For one, it wasn’t as smooth. Destino found the ground here to be a slight bit painful, with all the tiny rocks and small protrusions coming from it. However, the was a faint, pleasant warmth that radiated from the ground, which Destino certainly could get used to.

The Absol took a proper look around at their surroundings just to get an idea of where about a they were heading to. They caught sight of the large rock structure that rose above what appeared to be a living space for Pokémon. Tiny houses circled the protrusion and it seemed there was a wide space around it which contained some greenery. Hope noticed Destino’s staring and stood next to them, indicating this was their destination.*

*Turning around, they could see a small area to the left of the tunnel which they had come from which had a small, wooden hut. Small orange flower decorations had been painted around the bottom of the square hut and there appeared to be no windows to peer inside of it. This must be the one Hope had mentioned. They hoped it was at least semi-decent inside because the size was less than ideal. Perhaps they should have brought all of their belongings. It probably would have made their stay here more tolerable. They strutted over to the hut.*

*Destino stopped before entering.*

Destino: Prime. My address is Prime. Not Prince. Not Princess. Prime. Prime Destino. Is it really that hard to get right? Come on buddy, get with it. Do I have to spell it out for you so you can get it into your thick skull? Or perhaps I need to sit you down and force you to recite my title until you get it right. I’m not heading anywhere until I get my beauty sleep. I’m hoping this one is not interrupted by my prophecy dreams. As I’ve said, the eye-bags are not something I’m fond of.

*With the door now open, Destino strolled inside of the hut. The first thing they noticed was the light source inside of it. A small, orange flame hovered in the air above everything. However, it wasn’t as bright as the outside light. Destino pondered on how the flame hung in the air without any support. It wasn’t attached to anything. It wasn’t something Destino could explain. They took off their sunglasses, prompting their ghostly friend to pop out of them. The sunglasses were tucked neatly into their fur. Felix gave a stretch before looking around the small space.*

Destino: Felix. I have very high standards. These standards need to be met. With a bed like that, I’m sure it’ll feel just like sleeping on the floor. Do you understand what this will do to my back? I wouldn’t be surprised if I couldn’t walk when I’ve finished my nap. Then you’ll have to carry me.

Felix: Destino. Perhaps ya should just be grateful ya gettin’ somewhere ta sleep. It’s only for a short bit. Ya can survive. Besides, ya know what this reminds me of?

Destino: No. What?

Felix: That cabin we stayed in durin’ that school trip.

Destino: Oh yes, the one where you were on top bunk and got yourself stuck and had to ask my help to get you out.

Felix: Heh, yeah. It wouldn’t happen anymore.

Destino: Of course not. Wasn’t that the trip where Sketch drew a massive mural of the teachers across several trees?

Felix: I think ya right on that one too. It was really somethin’.

Destino: It was fine. I’m could probably do better.

Felix: Pal, no offence but ya ain’t great at the whole art thing. Ya gotta recognise that Sketch has a talent for it. Have ya seen him recently?

Destino: No. Been busy with my royal duties and all. Though he did make that painting of my family and I that is hung up. I wouldn’t admit it to him but he may or may not have done a pretty good job capturing my likeness. Of course it can’t compare to the real thing.

Felix: That does seem like his work. Anyways, back onto what I was about ta say. Just imagine this hut like the school trip cabin. Sure, it’s not got everything ya need but ya have slept in a place like it before. Besides, I’m here as well if ya need anythin’.

Destino: I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Felix, for coming along as well. I’m great and all and I’m sure I’m going to be the world’s best chosen one but it’s nice to have a piece of home here with me, you know?

*As much as Destino was overly confident about their abilities, they knew they wouldn’t be able to survive on this trip without their best friend. They may not have said it much but Destino did appreciate Felix for everything he did. Felix had been there when they were almost killed by Mistress Mirage. He saved them from drowning in the aquifer that one time. Felix wasn’t afraid to call them out when they had crossed the line. So many moment where Destino would have been screwed if Felix wasn’t there for them. And now this? Coming to a new land with them and being by their side as they had to find some way to save the world from who knows what. It did make Destino wonder how Felix got the time off from his job to come on this surface excursion with them. They’d have to ask about it later.

It made Destino think back to all of the other friends they had had. Many of them had ended their friendships with Destino. Then again, those Pokémon weren’t good enough for the absol or just wanted to be friends with them for the privilege of being close with royalty. Destino didn’t actually have anyone else besides Felix. It was strange to think about.*

Felix: I figured ya would need someone. I also know that you and Hope would probably kill each other if I wasn’t here.

Destino: And it would be easy too.

Felix: Of course it would be. I should probably leave ya to nappin’.

Destino: What are you going to do?

Felix: I’m probably gonna speak with Hope. Get some more info on what’s gonna happen.

Destino: Of course. Gather intel on the enemy. That’s why I like you Felix. You’re always wanting to do things to benefit me. Fair enough, I shall leave you to it but I don’t want you both to be talking about me this time, got it?

Felix: Ha, alright.

*Felix has left to speak with Hope. Destino is available for 5 asks before they prepare for a nap and Felix and Hope are available for asks together.*

@thepersonaking56

[chaoticevilbean]

A "Short" List of Empires S2 HC's (mostly about goblins)

I added the quotes around short bc I think my concept is skewed

Goblins have white blood. Bc of this, they blush pale green

Goblins define "adult" as having to be dual-held - AKA if you can hold onto someone and they don't need to use their own hands to keep you up, you are "child"

Goblins do not get fevers. Instead, they get so cold that they can freeze water and make breath turn to fog

Goblins have the ability to stretch their mouths incredibly wide. Think a chipmunk or squirrel, then make it bigger. Fwhip can easily store several blocks of gold, a stack of rocks, and a bundle in his mouth, with room still for him to eat pork.

Goblins Do Not have a Danger Sense. They see things and only know they're Dangerous bc someone tells them. This is because Wardens = Friends, creepers and zombies and such that spawn underground have learned to be neutral towards goblins, and it's basic understanding that if you do not want to burn, do not touch the Lava.

Fwhip met a creeper aboveground for the first time and it didn't blow up bc he ran up to it and asked for directions. All other rulers are free game, but Fwhip is too nice.

(A side HC is that Lizzie was raised by the goblins and that's why she founds Animalia so close to Gobland. Hence, she has all of the behaviors of a goblin, and all the perks that go with being one)

Gobland has the best alcohol. No one knows what it is, since there isn't any wheat or crops in general in the caves, but it tastes good... until the second one, where you start to have some fuzzy memories.

Goblins have incredbly sensitive hearing. This means that even w/lots of machines and people, the caves are eerily quiet. Upworlders think they're scared of the deep dark bc of this.

Goblins have really good sense in general. Eyesight? They can see in any light for quite a while and pretty far. Just don't have them looking at in bright light for too long. It can strain them. (Fwhip really likes the sunglasses Gem gives him. No more headaches.)

Goblins run, climb, jump, dash, etc, a lot due to the nature of caves. Aboveground, they'll use trees, bushes, animals, people, etc. Joel is considered prime Perching material, so he doesn't even flinch when Fwhip just leaps onto his shoulders and sits there like a very strange cat.

Fwhip is 3'1". He is tall for a goblin. The average height of a goblin is 2'4" (1'9" -> 2'7")

Ginger hair = very powerful, so people tend to defer to Fwhip before he's even the leader

Goblins genuinely enjoy having many names and many outfits. THey share outfits + easily identify "costumes" (disguises), but they also respect "play" (pretending, acting, or lying to an Upworlder).

Lizzie is considered to be "playing". She is aware of this. Fwhip and her like to joke about it, since he really sees "human Lizzie" as a different person than "Lizzie" bc that's what you do to respect "play"

Lizzie eats raw food. Fwhip eats literally everything. What it is or the state it's in does not matter. They both are considered to be eating healthy regardless.

Fwhip does not like flying things, but deals w/most of them - he'll eat phantom meat, but Lizzie eats any chicken he manages to get. Or any chicken near him. The guy doesn't like the pests. It's the principle of the matter!

Lizzie is 4'3". She feels v short until Fwhip assures her she's tall. Catfolk and goblins are both reasonably sized people, unlike everyone else. A little tallness is okay for them.

Goblins have v sharp teeth. Fwhip especially, arguably bc he's constantly in danger as he does his projects + expands Gobland.

Fwhip's teeth smtms stick out when he's upset, concentrating, or holding back a big expression. Not much, but if someone pays attention, there's these little pokes coming out.

Earrings are common amongst goblins. And jewellry. They like to be shiny and feel pretty... or so Upworlders think. In reality, it helps w/visibility, as a reflective thing is easier to see in the caves, esp for eyes trained to find shiny ores + crystals.

Goblins have a natural sense of direction. They have no concept of cardinal directions.

Goblins have fast pupil adjustment. Turn the light on, off, on doesn't rlly affect them unless it happens for too long. It can seem a bit... to the left to Upworlders, as a goblin's pupils contract and dilate so fast you can't even see it.

Goblins are extremely strong. Upworlders say it's disproportionate, despite goblins insisting it's perfectly normal. Even Fwhip is unaware that the strength to size ration is much different from the other rulers.

Give a goblin something, they can make anything out of it. Just make sure to be specific. Asking for "food" or "building materials" might end up with green pork or sculk blocks.

Raw gold is "the Sun" of Gobland. It was given to them by the Ancients so they could still see the Sun, despite the cave.

"Stealing", "borrowing", "selling", "trading", "sun", "moon", "stars", "please", "money", "today", "day", "night", and all related terms have no direct translations in Goblish.

Goblins don't have the idea of "property" - they take what they need + try to help everyone have what they need. The closest thing to "property" is a word translated to "held dear", like keepsakes.

There is a great deal of communication + Upworlders think goblins are telepathic, a hive mind, have a squeaky yet guttural language (bc of how fast they can speak Goblish), etc. This comes from goblins nearly constantly talking to one another to figure out what they need to do.

Sun, moon, stars are not underground, so the closest words are translated to "raw gold" "glow lichen" and "sculk"

They rely on communication for timekeeping - cooks keep time bc they know when to make meals, miners come back to sleep as a group, etc.

"Please" is not necessary, though "thank you" roughly becomes "I'm glad you carried this with me"

Translations for colors are, roughly:

"redstone" for red

"lava" for orange

"green/blue crystal" (meaning emeralds + diamonds) for blue + green (it's one word for each, but they are derived from the word for "crystal"

"gold" for yellow

"dirt" for brown

so many shades of grey, black, + white, which makes Fwhip incredibly frustrated that there aren't any words for them in Common + he can't let them know what he's seeing

"Protector" = warden

"hide veins" = sculk

No words for seasons, upworld land features (such as mountain), etc

Goblins have retractable claws + tails to facilitate movement in caves. Part of why they get along with catfolk is these shared features. Tails are often wrapped around one's waist to act as belts when around Upfolk

Fwhip's Names, Who Gave Them, + Why:

Skelly - the cooks; it's slang for someone who's too thin, + Fwhip is considered too thin for forgetting to eat + being bigger

Protector-can't-stop - by smiths; meaning unstoppable force bc of how many projects he has + he doesn't even realize he's one of the best at smithing bc of it (he just wants netherite to stay safe)

Bright Light - by butchers; they all love pigs, so his positivity helps them feel better when they are killing the Hoglins

Juvenile - by clerics; meaning curious bc of how many questions he asks/asked

Prismatic - farmers; he brings things from the Upworld to have in Gobland, bringing lots of color into the caves

Bersagliere - fletchers; he is a sharpshooter, bc smtms you need to shoot a creeper or phantom very suddenly

Dexterous - leatherworkers; he's good w/the softer materials most goblins struggle with

Literacy - librarians; most goblins don't know how to write, even if they usually can read enough Common to get by

Pebble - masons; so he feels better when he's upset at being tall

Raw Gold - goblins in general; to show their respect for their leader

Chosen - by Protectors; old slang for "Fated" bc LORE

Fwhip - by Lizzie; he "fwhipped" out of nowhere to greet her, so her first impression was the sound. It means friendship to him, so he's confused why people who insist they aren't his friends use the name?

Child - older folk; mostly bc he's "an orphan"

Miscellaneous Names: Gobby, Goblin, Gremlin, Green Man, Deputy, etc

Salmon - Joel; Lizzie only ate Cod when he gave it to her, so she's Cod, Joel is Puffer, and Fwhip is Salmon.

Goblins can smell everything. Ea person has a unique scent, so identifying who's been w/who, etc, is pretty easy for them. Wither roses smell like memories + souls. Blocks + items have different smells, so traps are easy to find + disable. Every species smells different, + magic is no different.

The #1 Priority is Safety!... But it's Gobland. It's built w/the idea that 4ft is high, so Upworlders... struggle.

Fwhip started as an explorer of the deep dark. Then he was braver than any others in centuries + ventured to... the Upworld.

He is not "ruler". More accurate would be "pioneer" or "chosen" meaning he is fated to be the Guardian of Goblins (who gives them space + safety to grow).

He isn't afraid of heights, bc he's a goblin. He's scared of wide open spaces. If he's hanging from the ceiling of the cavern by one claw, whatever. If he's in a meadow, get him out.

Making things for someone = v pos relation in goblin culture. Anticipating what is needed + providing before asked = v post relation. Romance is communicated by giving colorful things that will be enjoyed.

Goblins do not have labels for relationships. They love as they will + who they will, only caring that all parties are comfortable. Which means that either they don't realize that they're not in a romantic relationship w/Upworlders, or they are overly cautious about presuming as such.

Going by Goblin standards, Fwhip is romantic partners w/Shelby, Joel, Jimmy, Scott, and Sausage. He is, in fact, unaware of Upworld customs beyond "marriage = guaranteed forever relationship", and he gets that from Lizzie + Joel being married.

Goblins don't care how many or few relationships someone has, though they are very community based and tend towards an average of four romantic partners.

Due to goblins having befriended basically everything underground, the Drip offers a plethora of special drinks. They can provide for: Protectors, goblins, zombies, creepers, skeletons, pigs + boars, spiders, axolotls, bats, glow squid, endermen, iron golems, blazes, drowned, endermites, silverfish, ghasts, magma cubes, slimes, shulkers, wither skeletons, allays, cats, squid, striders, and goats. Humans, elves, fairies, and dwarves could be provided for, but it's... it's a little iffy.

Goblins purr, growl, hiss, squeak, chirp, bleat, roar, crow, and occasionally howl. These are considered to add to conversation, along the same lines as body language, and often more important if you're in different tunnels. Fwhip + Lizzie often add noises like this into their conversations, but are both a bit nervous about their friends finding out since it's not normal like it is w/goblins.

Goblins have 2 ways they can be "born":

Ore-spawn. They are born of rocks, mined up like one might with ores. Veins typically contain about 20-30 goblin babies. They all look roughly the same, with mild variations based on what they were near. (ie. a baby that was right next to the deep dark is going to be slightly different than one surrounded by other babies)

Pod-made. Instead of reproducing as Upworlders do, goblins create pods that look like boulders (to them, so actually rather small). These pods are placed in the deep dark, where Protectors watch over them. Anyone can make a goblin pod, as long as they know what they're doing + they are placed in the care of the Protectors. The person/people who make the pod affect the appearance of the goblin. The materials can be next to everything so long as, again, it is considered a goblin pod in the care of Protectors.

Ore-spawns take about 3 decades to form, though are not considered "ripe" until 6 decades.

Pods take 5 years to have properly formed babies. Bc of this, Gobland operates on pod-cycles instead of years. There are abt 2-5 pods ready to open ea year. Hatching involves the babies beginning to mimic shriekers + the adults rushing to break through the outer layer to pull them out.

Lizzie + Joel are the only people who know how to translate days/months/years into pod-cycles. (1/12 of a pod-cycle for months, 1/365 of a pod-cycle, etc)

Fwhip's pod randomly appeared amongst the others, + hatched about 5 days later than the others. It was made of raw gold + some strange sculk/quartz/crying obsidian material.

On an absolutely completely unrelated note, he's had strange occurrences his whole life, may or may not have encountered absurdly friendly fae, and is more comfortable in the deep dark than even his fellow goblins.

Fwhip is the leader bc of being "fated/chosen" which means he's basically in charge of everything as soon as he became an adult. He doesn't really know how to explain to Upworlders that he's not "the Chosen One" so much as just being supremely weird + odd in every way, so he sticks w/ "I'm the tallest" as the reason.

None of his friends besides Lizzie are aware that this is a technical lie (him being tall is part of the reason, since it's weird to be so tall). Each of them (even Jimmy as a villain) are incredibly worried that one day a goblin will outgrow Fwhip + he'll just vanish bc he only seems to come up bc he's the leader. Each of them, bc of this, are committed to preventing any goblin from being taller than Fwhip. Fwhip is unaware of this. Lizzie never figured out how to tell them that they're wrong.

Wardens do not attack Lizzie if she's a cat, but will attack "Lizzie the Human"

Fwhip helped build the first Animalia buildings, but left once villagers arrived so Lizzie could start her reign as "Mayor Lizzie, the Completely Human Mayor of Animalia"

As the only goblin exploring the Upworld, Fwhip's the only one to encounter nearly all types of mobs. He has discovered that all mobs can be befriended EXCEPT guardians, elder guardians, and phantoms. These three are added to the only Nether mob that can't be befriended: the hoglin.

Goblins remember more history than Upworlders. Their average lifespan is 360 years, so the 1000 y since S1 is a lot less for them (abt 8 gen instead of 38)

Fwhip actually knows a lot of history, for his project inspo + bc he likes to hang w/the Elders every now + then. He has no idea how to inform Pix that some of his "facts" are... woefully incorrect.

Goblins hang in the Nether often. They share a love of gold w/piglins + are very friendly w/them, so no goblin has to worry about getting attacked by them. (The gold jewellry is for other reasons)

Goblins only need to drink every 2 weeks, eat every month, sleep every 2 months. They don't need to breathe much (as in can hold their breath for hours) + can shut off both sides of their throats. It's useful if they fall in water or encounter "bad air".

Neither goblins or Upworlders are aware of this difference in biology. Lizzie knows, but she's Lizzie + is aware of a lot of things abt goblins that no one else is, and she doesn't ever think to tell everyone else.

Goblins know where anything can be hidden. UPSIDE: They know where smth can be found if stolen or lost, easily hide important items, etc. DOWNSIDE: things are randomly found bc a goblin put it there, finding smth a goblin took is near impossible, etc

Goblins view eating sculk like eating dirt: Non-harmful, children do it, but why? Just ask for some food!

Goblins will adopt. The random child they found is an orphan? Theirs. They feel unsafe at home? Theirs. They've gotten lost? The goblin is going to find their caretaker to give them a piece of their mind.

Goblins therefore have folklore that says they "steal" children.

Goblins community-raise children. Every person is expected to contribute in some way. Sometimes that way is to teach the child a random skill. Sometimes it's helping build another building to provide room for the children.

Goblin boars are like giant forest hogs, as in massive. They are 6'7" at the shoulder on average, + abt 700 lbs. they carry loads through tunnels, usually loads of food or materials for stabilizing, before tracks are put down.

Snort, Sniff, + Boris are the only Goboars to go aboveground (besides the Gobville boar, Borus), purely bc they are proportionate to Fwhip (by goblin standards. Snort is 8'11", ~ 950 lbs; Sniff is 8'10", ~940 lbs; Boris 8'8", ~ 920 lbs.

Fwhip gets amazing deals from wandering traders bc he trades so often w/them to get things the caves don't have. He knows nearly all of them by name.

Joel met Lizzie + Fwhip when he was still human. Both shorter beings are his partners, but not with each other bc they're like siblings

Goblins can see tracks on stone + other rock, though Upworlders + even other cave-dwellers can't even tell that easily w/dust

Fwhip has trained himself to smile carefully to prevent his friends from seeing how strange his teeth are, or worse, scaring them.

Lizzie knows the most about goblins out of non-goblins. Joel knows second-most bc he's been close friends w/both cat + gremlin for decades. Oli also knows a decent amount, bc he was stuck in the cage for weeks.

Oli, unbeknownst to himself or anyone else, is considered a goblin. The reason? He's "actively contributing to his people", which is why his lack of paying more of his debt meant his land became part of Gobland. Fwhip really wants Oli to keep his goblin status.

Goblins use iron to help w/teething, like gum.

Baby goblins are often covered in rocks for protection while their watchers are in the mines, exploring, etc. Upworlders may mistake this for ore-spawning children.

Inchlings, known as "blues" to goblins, are roughly 3 inches tall + live in mutualistic symbiosis w/goblins. (I got this from someone saying goblin Fwhip + smurf Fwhip should meet)

Gobland's entrance is a little too short for most Upworlders, so many of them will hit their heads at some point, and concussions are somewhat commonplace. Goblins have a slightly skewed idea of how Upworlders act bc of this.

A goblin baby is a pebble + a group of pebbles is a cluster. (This is blatantly taken from another person's post, but I don't remember who it was. Someone else came up with this one.) Blues use the same terminology. Pigs/boars/piglins/hoglins are called bunches of stones.

Goblins don't mind rawness or blood, so they'll hunt in the Upworld if they feel the need to, + are willing to eat it right then. Fwhip is careful he doesn't get seen doing it bc it's... a Sight, + he + Lizzie check ea other for blood in their teeth. Blood on clothes can be explained away, but in teeth is decidedly harder.

Goblin Anatomy + Growth! (yes this is massively overthought, but no one can judge me in this fae realm)

Until ~ 42y (what they gain/have in this time) : ~ 1'10"; first row of teeth, which look like a human's; first claws, ~ 2x the length of a human's, but sharp + v hard; tail to knees, w/small tuft; can't hop yet; pupils dilate/contract involuntarily; eat ~ every 3 days, drink every 1, + sleep every week; carried on torso via them clinging monkey-style

~ 49y Growth Spurt (what they get) : 1-2"; second row of teeth, grinders for rocks behind the first; claws now have "sharp" retractable (meaning the sharp tips are "retracted" to have rounded ends); tail to calves

~ 54y GS : tuft fluffs slightly; now able to hop; eat ~ every 5 days

~ 60y GS : drink ~ every 3 days, sleep ~ every 11 days (essentially just a bodily efficiency growth spurt, smth strange to everyone but goblins)

~ 67y GS : 1-3"; third row of teeth, needle-like, in front of first set; second claws, from first knuckle, used to secure hold in rock, v big (1-2" past fingertip); tail to ankles; eat every 11 days; carried on torso via dual-grip

~ 78y GS : 1-2"; tuft now v fluffy; tail (if straightened) at feet/ground plus 1"; pupils dilate/contract voluntarily; drink every 5 days, sleep every 3 weeks

~ 87y GS : 1-3"; tail + 2"; 3rd claws, from 2nd knuckles for extra security in rock; eat every 3 weeks, drink every week

~ 100y GS : 1-2"; tail + 1-3"; eat every month, drink every 2 weeks, sleep every 2 months

Extra (possible) GS : markings, extra claws, fluffs along tail, extra rows of teeth

For average goblin, tails grow 6" past feet max

Tufts change to be brighter + fluffier (darker, slimmer fluffs blend in better w/rocks)

Claws are on both hands + feet, + are v strong. They're meant to help hold onto rocks. Goblins can hang by one set of claws, one-handed, from the ceiling, + can use their feet like hands. V useful for moving around where there is little concept of up + down

Ears ~ 5" long

Irises may glow in the dark; pupils are cat-like

Fwhip is considered odd anatomy wise

He has a tail 1'11" past feet, which looks a bit like a braided belt when he wraps it around his waist.

He weighs ~ 40 lbs, w/lift ~ 800 lbs (at least), which is perfectly reasonable to a goblin (if a little heavy to compensate for height). To his friends, he weighs maybe as much as wolf, + can lift at least a small ravager.

Ears are abt 1'2". This makes him seem much more expressive, since ears are a part of goblin body language.

He has extra claws from his 3rd knuckles + just under his hand + feet heels.

He requires less than most, too, eating a full meal abt every 2 months, drinking abt a gallon every month, sleeping 8 hours abt every 3.5 months

He has small, spaced fluffs down his tail.

He has markings that are called (in Goblish) lava, sculk, gold, + a few others. (Goblins have names for types of markings, + most who have them have at couple types)

His eyes change color depending on various factors + he can somewhat control it. This is a rarer trait, but still found in a few people.

He has needle teeth in the back of his throat, a few hard nubs on the roof of his mouth, + some tusk-fang-teeth that are right in front of his first set + sometimes stick out.

Goblins, having no sense of property, often just take things from places. This is why communication is so prominent, so if someone wants something that another has taken, it can be figured out who needs it/wants it more or if it's viable to trade tools, etc.

This also means that, due to the culture clash w/Upworlders, if someone claims that a goblin has "stolen", they will try to trade/sell the thing back, bc it's the basic knowledge they have of property.

Fwhip has made several magical artifacts that have ended up in the Overworld, though he doesn't realize they're special, since many goblins make similar items.

The skull that took Scott's eye is Skeletron's skull. It has magic that means that Skeletron is alive so long as the person the eye belongs to is still alive. So, to get rid of Skeletron, both eyes have to be destroyed (like switching the eyes w/two sheep's eyes + killing both) to destroy the skull. Fwhip is the one who made it, before it was stolen by the evil wizard, who then accidentally caused one of the original jewels to fall out. This jewel became Scott's replacement eye. The other jewel switched w/Pirate Joe's old captain's eye, before one of the connected entities died + the skull was put in the crypt for safekeeping.

Fwhip's badge is a keepsake, which means that Jimmy asking for it back is asking for every good memory of the Sheriff to disappear.

Goblins have scent glands on their palms to help track things (where they've gone, what they interacted w/, the same for their fellow goblins, etc)

Fwhip imprisoned Oli bc he decided the trade for Oli having "stolen" (bc humans are clearly Upworlders, panda hat or not) is that Oli is now a goblin. That is also why he is only given pork (a staple food), is up high (have to be used to ravines + such), + right above the deep dark (to get used to their neighbors).

Birthdays are not a thing to goblins. Joel does not have a birthday as he does not remember when it is. Joey also doesn't know his birthday, bc he is an orphan.

Scar + Tango are part goblin. Impulse is a full goblin, though he doesn't know, so he calls himself a dwarf. Fwhip doesn't correct anybody bc if they all want to play as different species, whatever.

Goblins sleep in piles bc of being community raised. Scott goes out w/the boys so he can get away from the Owen Situation, especially how Owen stands over him while he sleeps. He wakes up to a goblin on his chest, a Sausage on one side, a Jimmy that was pushed by Oli into his other side, + Joey having flopped on top of every bc he thought it was what they were doing. Joel is technically in the pile, but it's just Sausage holding his leg. Scott regrets everything, esp bc he moves his bed farther away the next night + Goblin Brain went "sick community member" so Fwhip was doing the cat thing where they sit right on your neck.

Goblin babies do not break easily. Ore-spawns will dig underground v v fast, leaving only a trail of pebbles, if yeeted. Pod-made just sit there, wondering why they've been yeeted.

The wardens spared Scar bc he's part goblin, but were very grumpy after the confrontation.

As @fantasykiri5 says, Fwhip plays the accordion. Oli helped him learn bc he realized that Fwhip was trying to make him a goblin.

Goblins seem to have no boundaries, bc they don't care too much abt the things Upworlders consider "standard", + they can hear practically everything. Once you hear a bit too much, why care abt... well, a lot?

Protectors are the iron golems of goblins. Instead of iron, it's sculk, + instead of the pumpkin, it's a copper block. Fwhip giving everyone Protectors is essentially his way of trying to protect those he cares about.

Fwhip doesn't call himself king. The other rulers do, though he's never really around to hear it.

Hermits average 4 ft, Catfolk average 4.5 ft, + Timmy was 1 ft while toy-size

Goblins can speak to/hear/understand rocks + sculk, which enables them to direct the spreading of sculk + know what places to not step bc the rocks say it’s brittle. They don't know that other people can't hear this, + it smtms means they think that people are malicious that are just unaware that the sculk is telling them to go the other way, they are TOO CLOSE to an vein of ore-spawn forming in that direction.

Fwhip's handwriting is actually immaculate. He can do the blocky text that you can color in if you want, he can do cursive, he can do tiny, he can do giant. The reason? Goblin brains are well suited for calculations, as this is need to stabilize tunnels, smelt differnet materials, and jump across ravines, amongst other things. Fwhip, however, thinks that the best style of writing is wonky bc it reminds him of the jaggedness of the caves. He finds Scott's writing particularly atrocious, but really likes Jimmy's chicken scratch

Fwhip used to pounce on Jimmy's shoulders. After their falling out, Fwhip does it mostly to annoy the other. He stops when Jimmy becomes small bc it means that he now tackles the other. Jimmy doesn't know how to feel about the change, but resolutely ignores he feels anything.

Other reactions of rulers to being used as a Perch are:

Sausage is delighted. He is a very small tree for a very large cat.

Gem has carefully instructed Fwhip on where he should jump, meaning that he jumps onto the same spot on her shoulders every time. This also means that she hardly notices him there, + will smtms go to visit someone only to realize that Fwhip is still there. (Yes, she has gone to visit Sausage like this. Yes, he thought it was normal yet the best thing ever. Yes, she only realized when Sausage addressed Fwhip.)

Katherine uses the goblin as a lookout while she monster-slays. She can also use him as a creeper deterrent. He only requests one piece of raw gold every few times, which is a good deal to not have to keep an eye out for mossy-explosives.

False doesn't mind. It's a bit odd, but ultimately not the weirdest thing she's encountered around here.

Oli is fine with it. It's a classic Fwhip move.

Pix originally did not mind, but then decided it was preferred to randomly finding the goblin somewhere. Honestly, anything is better than going down to The Machine and finding his friend eating the sculk. (It doesn't help that it's dark down there + he basically just saw a Creature dripping sculk from its mouth)

*see first mention for Joel

Lizzie has to give piggy-back rides bc she's too small

Shelby thinks it's funny, + smtms has Fwhip hide under her hat. A good way to startle her friends a second time if they've already realized Tortoise sits under there most days.

Pirate Joe decides that if he's annoyed at his parrots, he can threaten to ask Fwhip to be his shoulder buddy instead.

Scott is terrified of mentioning anything, + goes about his day in a state of fear that he'll upset Fwhip.

Owen thinks it's normal.

Fwhip, Lizzie, + Joel bonded over abandonment issues. (Fwhip was stolen when a baby, only to be dropped when the person ran after triggering a shrieker. He spent long enough waiting to remember it vividly. Lizzie was abandoned by her guardians when small(er). Joel doesn't know what happened to him that he can't remember his past well, but he presumes that he was left behind.)

Goblins have strong beliefs in spirits of various sorts. This goes from auras to ghosts to reincarnation to everything in between. If asked if they believe in one afterlife or another, they will respond w/ "Yes".

Fwhip's dress is highly representative of two things: his exploration of the Upworld, via the red color from the first flower he brought them that was promptly turned into dye, and of his... relations w/the other rulers.

Fwhip is asexual, and does not understand gender, sex, or anything similar. It's just Not something goblins have. He uses he/him pronouns solely bc Joel said he looked masculine way back when they first met, so hey, why not?

The jacket that Jimmy gave Fwhip for Lawyer is meant for an adult human, but the belt is meant for a child. This leads to Fwhip having to squeeze himself into the belt, but that jacket is... dragging like a wedding veil. Joel asks abt it later + Fwhip just groans + comments that humans suck at making proper outfits for "play".

Goblins fall asleep everywhere/anywhere. This is bc it is both easier to just sleep where one is than go all the way back + sleeping in a bed doesn't matter for a species that never encounters phantoms. Also bc of this, goblins retain their positions while sleeping. IE if a goblin falls asleep hanging from the ceiling by a single claw, you're more likely to see them wake up than fall down while sleeping.

Fwhip is not an exception. If he falls asleep, you could sooner move a mountain than move him from his place. It's worse than having a cat. You don't just feel bad, you fail.

Y'know how cats chase laser pointers? Goblins are, again, worse. Sausage starts using his shield to make a beam of light when he realizes Fwhip is paying very close attention. Ten seconds in, the goblin pauses, considers the beam, + LEAPS at Sausage's face. Bc he calculated where the beam was coming from + decided to catch the beam at the source. Every other ruler follows (except Lizzie).

Goblins do enjoy munching on rocks, which helps make their bones strong. They are surrounded by rocks, + a bite here and there does more help than harm. However, a goblin who is hungry or bored enough can eat an entire gatehouse by themself + still eat some pork after.

Gem + Fwhip, despite distance, are very good friends. Oh, the bard has fallen into a pit? Well, Fwhip has said that she saw nothing, so she saw nothing. Yes, the same Fwhip that dyed all her sheep grey and probably took bites out of her gatehouse.

Hermes considers the rulers his aunts/uncles. Lizzie + Fwhip are the cool ones. Gem gives the best snacks. Katherine is the amusement park aunt. Pix is the wine aunt. Oli, Shelby, + Joey ask that Hermes not say anything about their time w/them. Jimmy only just started being allowed around the kid. False doesn't know how to handle kids, but does decently well. Scott keeps trying to drop Hermes off with Fwhip, bc if someone is getting in trouble for giving the kid too much sugar, it's not gonna be him!

Scott is so confused during the Hermit x Empires crossover bc he's recovering from the equivalent of a magical flash grenade thrown directly into his eye.

Scott creates emerald-ore scented perfume specifically to fully clear his tracks + name. Pix loves it + asks if he can buy the man more. Within a week, every other ruler has asked for some for various reasons. He's making emeralds, but his stress has never been higher.

Scott used to have long hair, but cut it when he settled down bc he kept overheating while working in the sun. His fedora used to keep the heat off him, so he's glad to get it back.

Shelby is very good at making potions, even early on. Unfortunately, she never knows what the potions are going to do until after they're used.

The Gobland Courthouse is considered one of the best. Judge Pixlriffs is one of the reasons. The other is that trial by combat is not offered, so it's one of the most peaceful courthouses.

Eddie is the flirtatious one, as a well-put together harengon. Oli is a disaster, no matter what his sexuality.

It's an on-going joke that Pix is a grave-robber.

Shelby found out she was hanging with Evil Sausage when Sausage heard about the prank and came to warn her. Fwhip, however, only found out after the Merging, despite also being involved. His reaction is to pretend he knew the entire time. Shelby knows, but she's going to play along bc it's how they Friend.

Joel + Fwhip trade gold for raw gold bc they both value different types of gold.

The common method of goblins to deal with Upworlders acting weirdly is to try to get them to sleep. This is bc goblins don't understand how Upworlders + sleep work, and think that sleep is like a cure-all / best bet.

Joey can write, but not spell + barely read.

Joey + Shelby are actually really good friends at any point they aren't fighting over Katherine. Katherine is not rejecting either, but trying to get them to notice each other bc it's a lot easier if they will just confess. (Seriously, why do they have to be just like her parents?)

Katherine constantly fights with her parents over various things. Monster hunting, being friends w/anyone who's not "normal", rumors of her dating a pirate AND a witch, etc.

Fwhip and Joey are like Roger Rabbit: Fwhip can get into anywhere + do anything if its creature/gremlinly, and Joey can get into anywhere + do anything if he's stealing.

Joey is terrified of caves, but hides it well. He's also "mildly" terrified of Fwhip (+ all goblins) bc how do they live down there?!

If you give Fwhip a baby animal, he will treat it like his own child out of Pure Goblin Instinct. Sausage guards this as one of his greatest secrets + tools. A goblin w/a child is very calm.

Goblins are very open w/their emotions bc they see no point in hiding them. Fwhip trains himself not to, but can and will burst into tears if he so wishes, as a fun side effect.

Languages in their world include:

Goblish - Goblins

Piglion - Piglins

Common

Hermitian - Hermits

Enderspeak - Endermen

Spanish - Sanctuary people + wherever Sausage comes from

Netherish - Netherfolk

Gnomish - Gnomes

Elvish - Elves

Dwarvish - Dwarves

Chromish* - Chromians

Gearly - Cogsmeaders

Moorish* - Evermoorians

Piratespeak* - Pirates

Glimmering - Glimmer Grovians

Oli* - Oli

Stratos - Stratos

Dryspeak* - Tumble Tooners

Animal - Animals

Pix* - Pix

Ancient Common - previous residents of the Ancient Capital

French - Gem's old village

Dawn - Dawnels

*essentially just Common w/heavy use of accent and/or slang to the point of need a translator anyways

List of rulers who will hang upside down from your arm like a bat, if able: Fwhip, Lizzie, Oli, Pix, Joey, False or Katherine if you promise candy, Sausage if you ask

Pix is upset at Jimmy for letting the Mezalean King just walk out. Jimmy still doesn't know what Pix expected of him, and Pix refuses to say, but it remains unresolved.

Scott spent a week trying to shut off Oli's musical statue. He still, to this day, forgets to not walk close to the Goblin Cart of Pain.

Fwhip spent a week making an obsidian bracelet for Tango, who cried upon seeing it. Jimmy was not happy, but it made Tango happy, so...

Goblins made the Machine to help expand the deep dark, which is considered much safer (mobs didn't spawn, back when they were hostile to goblins). Fwhip, bc of this, likes to wait for Pix by the Machine, happily munching on sculk. Pix is always startled by the sudden appearance.

Goblins tend to compliment a lot more. Over everything. Many Upworlders have no idea how to handle 2 ft tall beings calling them 'pretty' and 'Tol' and other things said in the most casual yet positive voices.

Lizzie always lands on her feet... but even cats will die from a fall a little too high. She starts putting beds in her mines. Most think that it's so she can sleep when she's busy working. Mostly, it's so she can soften the too tall landings.

Sausage makes the best meals if you want something filling.

Scott has the best travel foods.

False has the best snacks, but Gem has the best sweets.

Jimmy can fry or smoke things.

Katherine can only cook using a campfire bc of one too many adventures.

Joel cannot cook to save his life.

Lizzie chooses not to cook, but can.

Fwhip is a great cook, if you remember to emphasize what is and is not in your diet.

Joey and Shelby cannot cook, but can stomach eating everything.

Oli is a 50/50 chance - either the best meal in days or the worst thing you've ever tasted.

Do not ask Pix to cook.

Scott is actually terrified of Fwhip in general, for a multitude of reasons. However, he abides to the "don't show fear, don't show weakness, and you're fine." Of course, this is the advice he gives absolutely everyone.

Joel, who distinctly remembers having a Lizzie on one shoulder + a Fwhip on the other arguing about whether they should skin a rabbit first or just eat it then before Lizzie fell off in a dramatic collapse after Fwhip called her a "stupid fluff-butt", thinks Scott is justified, but also incredibly silly. If Fwhip wished any of them ill, they wouldn't have a chance to prepare. He regularly teases his neighbor about being scared of "the tiny green man".

On a completely unrelated note, Scott has a bunker in his attic made of obsidian. He also has several tripwires to warn him if someone's nearby.

Every situation where Fwhip dies to a warden is explained as him having spent the night w/one of his fellow rulers, so they smell someone else, get confused, + attack him. Though every goblin agrees that it's better to happen to the respawner than anyone else.

Respawners are considered very powerful, no matter how young or old. Getting every advancement = becoming an adult. They technically speak a different language, but they don't notice it. They only switch when they're engrossed in conversation w/each other.

Fwhip, Lizzie, + Scott genuinely enjoy pickle juice. False, Sausage, + Joey are not opposed to it. Shelby, Jimmy, + Oli will lie about how good it tastes. Joel, Pix, + Gem will gauge how well the person might take it and respond accordingly. Katherine has not tried it. She thinks that she'll like it, but that it'll be weird, so she doesn't. She'll try it when the curse is gone.

Fwhip chews on sticks. Lizzie will do it if her teeth feel dull. Sausage tries it + declares it is a Good Thing To Do. Oli tries it, + makes "mmm, yummy" noises at an expectant trio.

Eddie repeatedly tries to either flirt w/or parent the rulers, to varying degrees of consistency + effectiveness.

Joel is, in fact, the tallest of the gods, bc he is the Mezalean-king-turned-god + that was really important to him so it carried over. Some people joke bc it's funny, some people genuinely don't know/can't tell (Lizzie, Hermes, other shorter peeps), + some people think he's the shortest god so they call him short (Fwhip, specifically). The second tallest god is exactly one inch shorter.

Fwhip sits on railroads. He hears minecarts long before they reach him, + knows exactly when to move + where to be out of the way. It terrifies other people, especially when he moves under the rails.

At some point, every ruler has attempted to do two things: trade jewels w/Fwhip + try to trade Sausage wood for other wood. Fwhip only trades jewels for smaller things, + immediately eats them, and Sausage....

Joel once declared that he was going to give his small partners neighbors a makeover. He used purple ribbons + amethyst to make Lizzie both Sparkle and Jingle. He used gold thread + braided Fwhip's hair (think Hiccup in HTTYD2). Both refused to take it all off for days.

The Bonnk Stick is as long as Fwhip's tail + 1 ft, as per standard schematics... or 4.5 ft, roughly. It is taller than pretty much all of the Hermits + also Lizzie. It's disconcerting for some of the less experienced, given a goblin has pulled out a weapon bigger than he is.

If he feels threatened, Oli does not take out a weapon and barely raises his lute in defense. Instead, he starts calling for help. In under a minute, one of three things happens: a goblin comes to take care of the issue before disappearing immediately after, an enormous animal rampages over the issue, or Oli is teleported to Dawn.

Goblins love clutter. They've got plenty of space, but not that much stuff, so when their Upworld Explorer starts bringing back STUFF- let's just say that he gets several lists from several people of what to look for (new flowers or materials or such).

Withering does not affect goblins due to their close relationship w/the Nether. Therefore, wither roses are a common sight in some of the Elders' windows, as a way of symbolizing age + memory.

Jimmy had no idea that goblins have cat-like pupils until he asked for Fwhip's badge (keepsake) back. Once he saw the goblin again, he was startled that Fwhip's pupils were oddly oval-shaped... Oh, no, that's slits. If Jimmy asks for the badge, the eyes are slitted.

The Deep Dark Adventure Trio still get together to go do shenanigans. Sausage is the distraction/frontline, Katherine is the force/common sense, + Fwhip is the grabby hands/scout

Goblins have three tongues: one like a human, used for speaking; one like a lizard, meant for moving things in the mouth; one like a butterfly - which is to say a straw to suck liquids out of places hard to reach

In the world of Empires, villagers view princesses as incredibly brave and strong. This is bc of two things:

Princess Gem of Dawn coming back from mining w/the Sheriff saying "Yeah, we met a warden, but look at all the stuff I got!"

and Princess Katherine of Glimmer Grave coming back from a trip w/a cut on her cheek saying "Oh, my goblin buddy needed help down in his ancient city so I lent him a hand w/the wool" + everyone reading btwn the lines (the cut is bc she tripped on the way back)

Sheriffs are viewed as slightly lesser than princesses, gods are viewed as from an entirely different dimension (maybe the End?) and therefore on a different scale, and goblins are small and scary and it is a testament to the bravery of both the aforementioned princesses that they are friends w/a goblin... and also that strange mayor who somehow rules over animals.

People seeing Snort from a distance: "what a strange horse" Snort: *runs towards them bc PEOPLE* People: *Panik* Meanwhile People seeing Fwhip from a distance: "what a strange cat" Fwhip: *runs towards them bc PEOPLE* People: *internally* "Don't call it cute. It will bite you"

Goat horns are actual forms of communication for the rulers. Sausage + Gem share one type. Joel + Sausage have one. Joey, Shelby, + Katherine have one (which was just Katherine's until the other two decided to pick that specific type). Lizzie + Fwhip have theirs, + also share one w/Oli + Scott, who both didn't realize until they had two tiny creatures blowing for aid. Jimmy does not have one, nor does False. Pix has every type. There is an unspoken rule that if you here your type of horn, you need to speak to the person who has it.

This rule has led to quick trades, help in emergencies, + the accidental acquisition of illager allies.

Related note, respawners don't look different from villagers + illagers. Usually, illagers wear different styles, villagers have different styles based on profession/location, + the tell-tale sign of a respawner (to a non-respawner bc nametags are visible to other respawners) is that they'll suddenly speak Spawnlang to each other, or they have something slightly to the left of a normal person.

Or individual tell-tale signs, that are just enough to go "oh, respawner".

Stare at False too long + you hear the sounds of a portal or clinking gears. Hand her raw iron or copper + don't blink, or there'll be more than you thought you gave her.

Gem seems normal, if a bit quirky. But the butterfly wings on her back move in non-existent breezes, and sometimes the ribbons that hold her crown in place as she flies twist as though alive. She doesn't seem to eat or drink anything besides honey.

Jimmy is a normal Sheriff, completely regular + is truly believed to be a normal human. But he is adamant he is nothing besides that, in a way that suggests he's insecure about it. Why would a human be insecure- unless the human in question is a bit off...

A pirate crew of different species doesn't heed the terms "normal" or "strange" very much. But sometimes you are sure that your captain's new kid isn't exactly a kid. Sometimes a person grows up and doesn't seem to change all that much - in places they definitely should've. Joey's always been good at being confident, which helps to convince people to not look closer

A god is always going to be different. But some gods are a little too mortal. They can't be killed, or don't stay dead, but there's a look in someone's eyes when they understand considering death, understand it in the way of someone who's certain they won't come back. Joel doesn't know he looks like that, only that when he holds the hand of a sick child, or of an elder who doesn't want to be alone when it happens, he remembers being small, and seeing a zombie bearing down on him.

Sausage bounces a bit to high. Watch him move + there's a moment when he seems to teleport a few blocks ahead of where he should be.

Katherine isn't cursed. But people like to blame it on a person when their world gets weird. And the princess is weird! She knows languages that no one else has spoken, + speaks randomly (that one might learn w/access to a chat of beings who know those languages, + not knowing to not respond aloud).

No one knows where Pixlriffs came from, only that he lives in ruins + studies the old world. Of course he's distracted by things, + looks to the side while speaking to people. He's not exactly down-to-earth... + he's just awkward, right? That's all.

Oli is always strange. Perhaps it's his references of things that haven't happened, or he couldn't have been around for. Perhaps it's when he comes in knowing what's happening, but not enough time has passed for him to have heard of it.

A magic eye will pierce your soul. But which of Scott's eyes is the magic one? His colorwork is amazing, which is how he's managed to get so far. But you're certain that it used to be colored leather, or a basic design, not what you're wearing.

Shelby's hands are always cold. She claims that the swamp is a cold place, but shouldn't her hands be warm? She smiles if you ask, + then you forget you ever did. All you have is a vague memory of the smell of mushroom stew + the feel of blaze powder on your fingers.

Lizzie smells of fish, + it's a little too pungent. She hates the water, so why does she always smell of the ocean? She hates the Sheriff on her friend's behalf, so why does she seem to have terracotta on her clothes, until you look closer + she doesn't?

Fwhip is strange. A pod w/out a maker, a few days late being "born". A need to go Up, to explore deeper, to visit places no one else goes. Yet he's also a bit too... not there. He sometimes stands + stares at nothing, like he's seeing something that no one else can see, w/out ever moving his eyes. He peers + it's like he's got a spyglass, seeing further than even goblin vision should go.

Owen definitely finds it strange that he can someone open a lot of writing on the side of his vision, which doesn't exist for anyone else. He doesn't even know what he's doing! And why does everyone have nametags- well, not everyone, but definitely Scott!

False is pretty chill w/whatever. Esp in regards to her fellow rulers. She thinks that so long as they are nice, she doesn't really care. Nice ranges from kindly informing her that they are going to steal all her iron when she next leaves to providing her w/a totem of undying immediately after a recent... series of a certain event on repeat.

Do The Rulers Drink Coffee Or Not?

False: Averages two cups to wake up, + another each hour

Gem: Averages a cup a day

Jimmy: A cup in the morning, another w/lunch

Joey: He does not drink coffee initially. He comes over to visit 'his princess' in the morning, starts pestering her, + goes "what're you drinking" before just drinking straight from the pot. Cue his discovery of the Amazingly Awful Zoom Juice + The Ultimate Amusement of Other Rulers

Joel: Sometimes, when needs a pick-me-up

Sausage: ...yeah, he's made it clear.

Katherine: Drinks lots. She is exhausted every day due to her monster-slaying, + has to keep it a secret so she's gotta be awake during the day. It's part of her pep, being constantly caffeinated as a form of energy

Pixlriffs: He carries large quantities of it on his person at all times

Oli: If he can get it, he has some, but he doesn't drink it all too often. Surprisingly, he's just like that

Scott: Yes. He drinks coffee to wake himself up, at mealtimes, every hour, when he blinks, when he has to interact with a llama, or just feels like it

Shelby: She is the Empires equivalent of a college student

Lizzie: No. She is proper cat, taking adequate time for sleeping

Fwhip: He doesn't know what coffee is either! He finds out when he goes to visit the Sheriff + recognizes the drink in Jimmy's hand as what Pix always has. He stares for exactly how long it takes for Jimmy to notice before he swipes + downs the whole thing. Jimmy, knowing that banning Fwhip from drinking it won't work, bans everyone from giving him coffee. The haunted look guarantees even Joel + Scott listen

Do The Rulers Drink Tea Or Not?

False: Maybe. Depends on her mood bc there's a bit more effort in making tea

Gem: Absolutely and often

Jimmy: Nope. He lives in the mesa + doesn't appreciate the taste of "leaf-water"

Joey: He thinks tea is putting random leaves into boiling water + waiting until it's cooled off. He has had some "fun" experiences

Joel: If he's sitting down for a while, probably, but otherwise, he's too busy building

Sausage: Sure!

Katherine: She actually hates it, bc her parents always pushed it as "proper"

Pixlriffs: He loves to!... when he has time + energy to actually make it into his kitchen instead of exploring (or passing out on the floor)

Oli: Yep. Easy to acquire, he can put a kettle on while he's tuning, drink some as he sings, help him warm up, etc

Scott: Yes, but not often for similar reasons to Pix

Shelby: Yes! She's actually adopted Joey's style of making tea, + hasn't (exactly) regretted it

Lizzie: She likes it when Joel makes it

Fwhip: Definitely. He drinks it almost as much as Scott + Pix drink coffee, esp since he can no longer drink both coffee + tea

Do The Rulers Sleep?

YES, + try to get at least one other to: Gem, Jimmy, Sausage, Scott, Shelby, Lizzie

YES, + don't particularly care if others do: Joey, Oli

NO: False, Joel, Katherine, Pixlriffs, Fwhip

Scott helps paint Fwhip's nails. It only took once to get over the sudden appearance of an extra 3/4 sets of what he now knows are actually dulled claws.

Scott cries when Lizzie asks for hers, bc (1) she trusts him, (2) he doesn't know if he should, since the polish might hurt her when she retracts, and (3) he did this to himself, so he can't blame anyone.

Making their own gunpowder/rockets is no longer just bc Jimmy doesn't have gunpowder. The new citizens that Lizzie found now work in the factory, providing Animalia w/economic stability, while Gobland uses the explosives for mining, aiding in keeping up w/any increased population growth (such as ore-spawns) or gathering materials for export. The Smol Duo actually don't understand why he's upset, since both Animalia + Gobland (+ Stratos) aren't selling, + the trade deal w/Joey means Jimmy could feasibly make the same by just. Stocking Joey's. Stratos is the only place that was paying for gunpowder, + they usually chose to instead go through Gobland, which was under the ground. Plus, both Lizzie + Fwhip have loose/unclear definitions of "legal"

Fwhip + Lizzie smtms decorate their tails, but rarely let others touch them, bc they are v sensitive (look up how sensitive a feline/canine's is + you'll know what I'm thinking)

Jimmy was a toy, but a Faerie made him human. As long as (1) person believes he's human, he's a human. Technically, the Faerie will always believe he's human (bc he is, now), and they thought it would be the same failsafe w/him, but instead it's Fwhip, who knows the Faerie. The two smtms go on adventures together, so Fwhip doesn't know it's Jimmy, not at first, but knows it's a person. Somewhere.

The "Revealing Potion" is actually a shrinking potion that Joel asked Fwhip to make bc he hadn't met Shelby yet. The same goes for the "Apple of Lying" (aka a growth-magic-infused apple). Joel gets approached by Shelby after, wondering who got him the magic. He then stares for a minute, doesn't answer, and says he'll come to her bc he didn't know where the witch that Fwhip went to was.

The shrinking potion will turn a 5-6 ft person into a 1 ft person, a 4-5 ft person into a 6 inch person, and any person ~3 ft or below into a 3 inch person. Aka, a human into a toy, a hermit/catfolk into a plush, and a goblin into an inchling. The growth apple will turn a human into a giant/god, a hermit/catfolk into a tall person, and a goblin into a human.

After Jimmy's initial attempt to fire Fwhip, he suddenly found a bunch of feathers on his bed. It was not a threat or a prank. Fwhip thought that giving him "a feather bed" would make him feel better abt "losing" his Protector.

Fwhip has a pair of goggles he uses for forging that once belonged to an Upworlder a few (goblin) generations back.

Goblins have beans.

The tallest Hermit is 4'5". It's Pearl. Doc is exactly 1 mm shorter than her. The shortest is 3'5". It's Bdubs. Impulse is exactly 1 mm taller than him.

At some point, Fwhip makes and eats an Apple of Lying so he's taller than Bdubs.

Fwhip's boots have holes in them. This is to allow his claws out. Given only Lizzie + Joel know (Lizzie knows Fwhip, + Joel has three guesses as to who left scratches in his sofa), there becomes a collective effort from the other rulers to "fix" his boots (thinking he doesn't know how or doesn't care enough to do so). Oli receives the same treatment over. Well, just about everything he's got.

The collective effort is this: (1) trick person into handing over damaged items, (2) give items to someone to fix, (3) keep person away from the one doing the fixing, (4) give back in least suspicious way possible.

Fwhip wonders why every time Jimmy tells him to take his shoes off at the door, they disappear for a few hours, then reappear all broken! His holes are gone! How is he supposed to go mining like this?! (He doesn't say anything to Jimmy, bc Jimmy's boots also disappear + come back w/the holes gone)

Oli is quite happy abt the pixies that are apparently living in the beehives have decided to help him out! It's okay, it's not charity from Gem, which he refuses out of pride, as he is humble enough to admit.

Pix smtms has strange dreams of a different David, a different outfit as he tinkers + moves his copper...

Gem treats Fwhip like a brother immediately upon seeing him. He doesn't remember they're the roseblings, but he's never opposed to friends/siblings. (The two words in Common are the same word when translated to Goblish)

Gem lived in a village that was destroyed by illagers. She respawned far away, eventually making her way to the coast, where she joined another village. Eventually, due to her bravery, skills, and kindness, the villagers started to call her their princess. W/in five years, she has become the leader of the princessdom of Dawn.

Goblins have scruffs, aka places on the backs of their necks that one can grab + pick them up by w/out causing pain. However, for a goblin, it freezes them in place, which means instead of going relatively limp, if they were trying to hit someone w/a bonnk stick, then they remain w/their weapon raised, essentially frozen in place. Pix thinks it's the epitome of what is different about goblins vs humans. Scott thinks it's creepy, how is Joel so calm abt preventing the green man from eating a cow whole? ("He was just going to store it in his mouth." "That doesn't make it better!")

Unbeknownst to... well, anyone, animals kept in the deep dark (on sculk vs other materials) will change to match the environment.

Sheep have black or cyan wool

Pigs become dark blue w/white eyes + hooves

Cows turn cyan w/black spots + hooves

Cats have a sculk pattern across them

Chickens have everything besides their feathers turn cyan or dark blue, including the whites of their eyes

Donkeys, horses, + mules turn varying patterns of cyan, dark blue, light blue, + black

Dogs turn light blue

Llamas turn jarringly bright cyan blue, w/pure black eyes

Fwhip teases Joel abt being weak, since the proportions are off. Is Fwhip disproportionately strong or is Joel disproportionately weak? No one outside can tell, but both will claim that the other is the disproportionate one bc they're petty

Traveling from Hermitcraft to Empires removes technology. Traveling from Empires to Hermitcraft removes magic.

All the rulers have tattoos, though some are more private abt them, for various reasons. Lizzie, bc she has to show her back, which has fur, Katherine to avoid her parents finding out, + Hermes (he counts as a future ruler) bc he wants to surprise his dads that his Uncle Fwhip let him get a cloud + lightning bolt crossed w/a sunflower.

Fwhip nearly has a panic attack the first time someone sneaks up on him in Hermitcraft. He's no longer a goblin, which means that he can't hear as much, so Scott comes over + says 'hi' only to have the goblin man jump, screech, + start breathing heavily. Turns out, everyone else is used to not being able to sneak up on him, so they don't even consider announcing their presence. It gets passed around to announce your presence the moment you can so he doesn't actually panic after being startled.

Sausage is vegetarian as in he doesn't kill animals. He will eat it if it's provided for him, such as any time he asks Fwhip + half the times he asks Lizzie, tho he doesn't ask them often

Goblins are okay with nudity

False met everyone at a meeting at spawn, where they accepted her w/out question or hesitance.

Gem met Jimmy when she wanted to go mining in an unexplored cave. She met Joey when Sausage was giving him a tour after he had stranded. Joel came to give her bees, w/no explanation (which was shortly before she learned that most respawners greatly abide to the rules of export-claims). She met Sausage when Sausage had just found the land, + she helped supply him w/vegetarian options so he could get started on his own land. Katherine came over to ask for help in making Glimmer Grove's undead side not so ugly, having heard the Dawn Princess to be great w/that sort of thing. Pix showed up bc he heard abt an ancient city in the caves, + promptly disappeared down for a week before coming back w/things to pay Gem w/+ artifacts. Scott came over to trade dye for food bc he was sick of eating bread. She met Shelby when she needed some potions of fire resistance for her first Nether trip. Lizzie came over to ask for some honey, though she never said why; Gem was actually surprised when she came back. Fwhip was first spotted when he dyed her sheep.

Jimmy met Joey when Katherine brought him over to return the TNT. He met Joel when he was first made sheriff + he decided to drop random stuff on his head, before also dropping an invite for tea. Sausage decided to give him a pair of elytra, randomly, w/out explanation, + w/proper Sanctuary greeting! Katherine came over to get some terracotta, which alerted Jimmy to the bandit activity in his area. Pix came over bc of the rumor that the Sheriff unknowingly vandalized a piece of history (which was forgiven when Jimmy assured he had no idea it was so important). Scott came over to flirt w/the Law, to which Jimmy was oblivious. He met Shelby when he went to go + hear her side of the story on why he received several warnings to not engage w/the witch in the swamp (which she claimed where just prissy people). Lizzie actually screamed upon seeing him, bc she was still jittery abt being a catfolk amongst humans. He met Fwhip when a green thing came up behind him while he was building his creeper farm + he screamed as loudly as Lizzie had.

Joey met Joel when the god decided to clap his cheeks for quite a while while he was visiting Sausage, which just so happened to only be over Eversea, and just so happened to be a week after Joel found out abt the Stratosphere Thief (Joey confronted him, which led to nothing). He met Sausage when he first made his way to the coast after being stranded. Katherine regrets him finding Glimmer Grove, bc the first meeting, he declared to win her love. Pix came over to provide froglights + other supplies for the castaway. He met Scott at the festival, mostly bc he heard that Scott is another thief, which means he has to avoid him to avoid stepping on the toys of a peer. Shelby gained his respect when he came out + demanded to know if her allegiance was w/skeletons. Lizzie put a bunch of birch leaves in his base to "add life", + was promptly informed that that was not what it meant by a peeved pirate. Fwhip trades raw gold for smelted gold.

Joel met Sausage at a party in Lower Stratos, which was just before Hermes was born. He met Katherine at a royal party, where they both griped abt stupid standards that limit social freedom. He met Pix at a rave. He met Scott when the man moved in, bc the sudden appearance of a house was interesting. Shelby met him when she asked abt the "Revealing Potion". Lizzie used to act like an actual cat when she encountered him, so he would give her fish, until he was injured in the mines (before godhood, before being able to fly), when she revealed herself bc she + Fwhip scared all the mobs off. He basically woke up w/a concussion, the revelation that the cat is actually a catfolk, + there are goblins that live under Stratos.

Sausage met Katherine when he went to Glimmer Grove to browse the markets, + needed an emergency babysitter since Joel needed assistance but Hermes would be in danger if he was brought along. Pix called any respawner to come help him when he got stuck in a hole w/out an elytra or pickaxe or enough blocks, + Sausage was the first one there. Scott came by to pick up some wood, + finally met the Wood Master, which quickly became him flirting. He met Shelby when he needed to cure some villagers. He met Lizzie when she came by to also help Pix. He met Fwhip when they first traded rocks + wood - or, rather, when Sausage found the person who had been leaving a stack of whatever rock he'd been complaining abt not having for a few stacks of wood.

Katherine met Pix when he decided to drop off a few historically used wards against curses. She met Scott when he provided her w/dyes for her wool. She met Shelby when she got the order for the witch hat. Lizzie came by to get some wool, only to fall in the water + need assistance + comfort. Fwhip enlisted her help for helping calm down a warden, which Sausage came to help w/bc he was there + is too much of a follower to say no.

Pix met Scott when he punched the man to prevent him from getting away after stealing an artifact from an excavation site (which knocked the other out). He met Shelby when needing invisibility potions for shenanigans. He met Lizzie when she shoved him in a hole (different from when he met Sausage) to prevent him from accessing a cave she knew held charged creepers (she Paniked). He met Fwhip when the goblin asked if he wanted to go mining out of the blue.

Scott met Shelby when he got lost in the swamp. He met Lizzie when she came to trade + called him a lonely man. He met Fwhip when the goblin showed up to trade + started a long run of Scott being frightened by the goblin.

Shelby met Lizzie when she brought Hermes over the first time. She met Fwhip when he needed help w/curing villagers who had wandered down from the Upworld.

Lizzie + Fwhip have always known each other.

Technically, since most Upworlders classify people as adults when they stop growing, + Fwhip has a few more growth spurts, he's a teenager by most Upworlders' standards. He does not know this, + the other rulers (besides Lizzie) have to take a breath to not immediately Panik that they've been... well, some have adult intentions, + some are just worried abt him. Thankfully, no one treats him as a teenager instead of adult, but it's still a weird thought.

The Hermits are amazed at how everyone has different wings that aren't just banners. And all other magicky stuff, bc they have tech, not magic.

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot-Part 42 The Date edition

Cillian Murphy

Series Master list 2014, 2015

A/N: I want to start this chapter by celebrating @peakyscillian for 1.5 k followers ! Congratulations dear Lau! I hope you get a lot more! ✨🎉💐 so I was inspired by your amazing dating series but I made my couple go on a date. ♥️

Especial notes: 1) You don’t have to follow the series to read this part, the only things you need to know is Cillian’s wife, Yael is a photographer, the story is set in September 2015, they met at a Photoshoot Cillian did at the end of filming S2 of Peaky Blinders and they are struggling with infertility at the moment, Cillian decides to take her on a special date as he needs to get in the skin of Tommy Shelby.

2) For this part I got the amazing help of two people who actually know about horses, my dear Cia (holacia2) & @notyour-valentine I can’t thank you both enough for all the input you shared with me -the one who knows nothing about horses- you made me imagine everything while writing, thank you for making this possible (you will find your names through the chapter as my way to thank you for your support) 🥰

Her whole body ached, specially her legs after that barre class. Cillian had convinced her it would be a good thing to go back to do the things she loved the most. It wasn’t easy for her, but at least she wanted to try, for him.

Taking her bottle of water, she took a big gulp, just as a voice called for her.

“Hello!”

Turning around, she found another woman smiling at her.

“Hey.”

“It’s good to see you back,” but looking at Yael’s puzzled look, she touched her arm, “oh! I’m sorry we never talked but we’re in the same class, I’m Liv.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Yael.”

“That’s such an unique name, never heard it before…”

Yael chuckled, the amount of times she had to write it down because people couldn’t understand it…

“I missed coming over, now I’ll feel so sore tomorrow.”

“No pain, no gain… or so they say.” Liv laughed. “I’m heading for a coffee, do you want to come?”

To her own surprise, Yael found herself nodding. There was something so charismatic about that woman, she had a light blood and nice energy around her.

“Sorry if I made a face before, I don’t have friends here, all the people I know is friend’s with my husband…” Yael apologized as they were waiting in the queue.

“No worries, we never talked before.” She mumbled while checking the menu. “Where are you from?”

“The UK.” Yael answered ordering the same coffee she always got. “Are you Irish?”

“Nope, I was born in the UK as well, but we moved over here since I was a toddler, so I’m basically another local.”

“That’s really nice.” She waited until Liv ordered to walk to a table. “Thanks for reaching out, all my close friends aren’t here… and I could use one right now.” Her eyes watered in a snap, her pain right there in the surface.

Liv reacted the only way she knew. “Oh darling, what’s the matter? We can sit outside the terrace is empty.”

“Sorry, I’m just all over the place.” Taking her sunglasses from her bag, she decided to hide beneath them. “God, what you must be thinking of me right now, how embarrassing.”

“Nothing bad, just that you need someone to listen.”

Liv moved back in her chair as their coffees arrived, and offered Yael a napkin.

“You know, I could use a friend too, but I’m too shy at the class because all of those ladies look me upside down.” She made a face and rolled her eyes. That made Yael chuckle.

“Most of them look like frustrated ballerinas.”

“But I mean it.” Liv looked at her, feeling like she was a good person. “Whatever is bothering you…”

The day was beautiful, Yael noticed, the sun up and bright, the terrace had big trees in front of it, surrounding the locals.

“I really appreciate your kindness, but it’s a little bit recent and the last thing I want to be thinking of is that. Maybe I’ll tell you another day.” She gave her new friend a try of a smile, it was just too personal to share. “Did I interrupt your reading?” Yael asked taking a look at the book poking out from Liv’s bag.

“Not at all, I always have a book with me, as I’ve to wait in the boring queue at school to pick up my kids.” She then went on to take a bite of the muffin, “Oh! This is so good, you should try it!”

Yale accepted one small bite and offered some of her own to Liv, but with that small detail she realized how Liv really was a good person, without knowing her, she was willing to share her food. She liked her already.

“I love reading as well, maybe we can exchange books or something.” Yael proposed.

“I’d love to do that! Let’s make this a regular, class, coffee and books.” Liv suggested with a huge smile.

And Yael couldn’t agree more, they spent some good time chatting about their lives, another things they enjoyed to do, their families… As they waved goodbye to go on their respective days she hugged Liv and thanked her one more time for her kindness, feeling like a nice friendship was starting, she felt so grateful for meeting someone like Liv.

***

“So I was thinking, maybe I could invite her somewhere? A little dinner to celebrate Liv’s belated birthday?” Yael asked Cillian from the en-suite, running her eyes over the bottles of shampoo, body lotion and other toiletries they would need. “Love?”

Cillian’s eyes were lost in thoughts, sitting by the end of the bed.

“What? Yeah.” He shook his head a little.

“You’re not paying attention.”

Cillian scoffed. Busted. “You’re there talking in your underwear… how am I supposed to focus?”

Yael blushed, suddenly aware, feeling self conscious, she took the leggings she just bought from the shelf and then threw the fluffy sweater over her head, it was longer than a usual jumper, so it covered her bum perfectly, her dark curly hair was now dry, so she did a quick messy bun at the top of her head.

He loved to listen her talk about her activities, especially now about the new friend she just made, until now he didn’t think of how lonely Yael was, of course his family was close and that was such a relief for him, but it wasn’t the same, soon he would be gone for months to film the upcoming season of Peaky Blinders and having a friend close could make things easier for his wife.

“Are you sure these are fine? You said comfortable clothes…”

“That’s perfect.” He smiled, glad that she had been taking her barre classes constantly, listening to her little stories of her new friend, and the excitement over the secret date he had been planning.

Walking towards the bed, Yael left the things she was holding next to her weekend bag, then quietly made her way to sit on his lap, passing her arms around Cillian’s neck.

“Hi.”

His hands linked automatically around her waist. “Hey you.”

“I want to thank you for all the things you’ve done over the last days… I haven’t been on my best and-”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” He fixed his blue eyes on her features.

“I know, but really,” she tried to distract herself with the top button of his denim shirt, his lotion filling her senses. “You’ve been cooking most of the time, listened to my stupid fears over the treatment and I know I didn’t make it easy.”

She brought her lips to met his in a small peck.

“Without you and your support I wouldn’t be able to hold it together, I just want you to know I really appreciate the extra effort you’ve put to make things easier.”

Cillian’s fingers moved in slow circles over her jumper, he wanted to do more, do anything to take her pain away.

“I’d like to do a bit of thinking of our options, investigate more to make a decision of what’s the best road for us, both IVF and adoption are long and tired process and I don’t want to feel pressured.”

Cillian smiled pleased, she always dedicated a huge amount of time before making an important decision, she helped him be less impulsive, think of all the possible scenarios and outcomes.

“We’ll do this on your pace, take all the time you need.” He kissed her, feeling her worries melting away. Her lips telling him a lot more than words could.

“You’re seriously the best husband ever.”

He chuckled. “Ah, that’s because I’ve the best wife.”

“Does it means I’m your favorite?”

Cillian arched his eyebrows, “of course you’re my favorite wife!”

And they embraced each other in a tight hug, feeling some kind of weight was lifted from their shoulders, their journey wasn’t easy, but they got to face it together and that was exactly what they needed. Support, teamwork, union…

“Will you tell me of this secret plans you have?”

“Not yet.”

Yael looked at him with a pout.

“Just a little hint?”

Cillian groaned and made her stand up. “Fine, Tommy needs to come out from the wardrobe for the new season, I need to remove the dust from him.”

Yael squealed as she felt his hand sneak down her back, then to her bum to give her a squeeze and a wink.

“Are you going to tell me what will happen to him?”

But he was already shaking his head before she could finish. “No, you asked for a hint of the plans not the script.”

“Ah, I won’t tell nobody.”

Cillian stopped at the top of the stairs, holding the bag in one hand, bringing her close by the waist with the other. “You’ll have to ask Thomas Shelby.”

She was surprised by the sudden brummie accent, his deep voice making her purr internally, a tingle running up and down her body. But she still tried to get him to speak as they drove to his sister’s house, Yael was extremely excited for the small change, for getting out of the house since some days were harder than the others.

Scout didn’t pay them any attention as they walked out the door, he was busy chasing after Sienna, bumping the stuffed animals with his nose.

“Do you know why is he so mysterious?” Yael squinted her eyes at Orla, keeping her voice down.

“No, he never tells… once he took Evan to Aspen for snowboard lessons and didn’t say anything, until he saw Joseph Gordon-Levitt and freaked out.”

“I swear if he takes me to a shooting camp, I’ll come back walking.” She joked wondering if she could switch places with Orla’s husband.

Orla suppressed a laugh as her brother walked out of the bathroom.

“Enjoy the weekend.”

Over an hour later, Yael saw they were entering a huge ranch, it seemed like a private property full of big trees, a huge structure in the back.

“Where are we?” Her mouth was hanging open by the sight before her eyes.

“This is a horses sanctuary.” He smiled proudly, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

Before Yael had time to react, two women approached the car and as they got closer he greeted them.

“This is Val and this is Cia, let me introduce you to my wife, Yael.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Cia welcomed her in a short hug, followed by Val.

“I’m so glad you made the reservation.” She stated.

“When I started to prepare for my role in Peaky Blinders, I came here to take riding lessons, they showed me how to mount a horse, to caress them, well everything.”

“It’s nice to meet you, this is such an amazing surprise.”

Cillian took her hand while they walked around the property, they explained it was a business ran by a family and they were both in charge on the riding sessions.

“This is where we train the young horses we get.” Cia pointed to an big area protected by a tall fence.

“This is beautiful.” Yael breathed out, taking a look around she felt so much peace.

“Wait until you see the horses, that’s the real beauty of this place.” Val offered guiding them to the large stable.

Yael squeezed Cillian’s hand when they entered it, feeling so small in such a huge place, she kept looking everywhere like a child in a candy store.

“This is Thunder,” Cia pointed caressing the first horse. “That one is Sonny, he was born here on a sunny day that’s why his name, and that beauty over there is Star, Penny, is living here temporarily,” she touched every single horse on her way with such a love oozing, and the most impressive thing was they equally gave it back. “Oh, bless you Moose.” She chuckled as one of them sneezed.

“Badger, usually kicks in excitement don’t get scared” Val started to explain just as they hear a loud kick, the hit on the wood echoed and Yael jumped in surprise. “There it is, he’s like a kid with hyperactivity.”

“Where’s Toni?” Asked Cillian remembering the one he used to learn to get used to horses while preparing for his role.

“Oh he’s at another fascility right now, working with children with special needs.”

“I came here to learn how to ride for the series.” He explained to his wife. “They take such a good care of them here, help them heal if they’re sick and show them how to be gentle with people, I met a boy with Down Syndrome while riding and his father told me it helped him so much with his skills and self esteem.”

“Would you like to give them a snack?” Cia asked, barely holding her excitement.

Yael doubted and took a step back, she had never been around horses before.

“It’s alright baby, here, let me show you.” Cillian took the apple slices from Cia’s hand and showed her how to do it. “It’s just like a big dog.”

“Yeah like ten times bigger!” Yael replied with a nervous chuckle still unsure, would the horse bite her hand?

“I’ve been told they can feel our emotions, our fears…” He understood her reluctance, at the beginning he was scared of riding a horse too. Cillian started caressing the muzzle of the horse to show her nothing bad would happen.

“If you don’t want to touch him in the face, you can caress his neck, they are very gentle.” Val offered from the opposite side.

As Yael nodded, she moved automatically to walk around to the other side, to stand next to Val, but her husband caught her right on time.

“It’s the other way around love, you never should walk behind the horse, he could kick you.” He explained so tenderly guiding her by the shoulders.

Yael chuckled nervously, it made sense. After touching the horse with just her fingertips, she realized he was so soft, but firm, moments later, she had completely warmed up to Harrison, smiling up whenever he made a little sound or move his ears, an indication that he was enjoying the petting and attention.

Cillian stepped back, watching his wife taking in the horse, the sparkle in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed to him, he was relieved to see her happy, enjoying the moment, Yael even asked to give Harrison another snack and laughed loudly when his nose touched her hand, it had a funny texture. They showed her how to brush the horse’s hair, it was surprising they had so many tools and it was a way to show some love and respect for the animal, the most beautiful thing about that sanctuary was that, they didn’t do it for the money, they wanted people to understand and value the animals.

But when the horse looked into her eyes, something changed inside of her. It felt as if the horse knew her battle. It was an indescribable moment, she was lost for words.

“Shall we go for a little ride?” Cia proposed and then Cillian winked at his wife.

Yael looked at every single person around with panic written all over her face.

“I tell all the couples that this is the test of fire, if they can ride together, they can live together.” Val encouraged them.

“The look on her face is screaming she’s scared he will throw her.” Cia joked.

“I’ve never been on a horse, and he’s usually making jokes and pranks…” Yael tried to explain.

Cillian faked indignation. “I’d never do such a thing.”

Val and Cia laughed, every single man who said that, did exactly the opposite to his wife.

“Don’t worry, you can ride with us, Cillian can ride by himself.” That seemed to calm Yael, because she accepted the boots Cia offered.

But it wasn’t just like that, let’s go and ride, boom, you’re on the horse, no… they spent a good amount of time showing Yael how to get on the horse, she had a good pliability by her years practicing ballet, but taking the impulse and swing your leg to then land carefully on top of the horse was a completely different task. And she failed several times on the saddle they set up to practice, but she got the chance to learn to control her body as well.

“Alright, keep your back straight,” Cia instructed Yael once she was on the horse, she could tell Cillian’s wife was so tense by her posture, “relax, it can feel a bit weird at first, let the horse guide you.” Cia was sitting behind Yael, holding the reins while she was holding onto the hom tightly.

“Ready?” Asked Val, she would guide Harrison by foot, to help Yael feel more comfortable with the ride.

“Are you sure he’s not going to run?”

“Harrison is very good, he’s such a gentleman and you’ve got Cia to control the pace and moves, don’t worry I’ll guide him slowly too.”

“Baby, you’ll feel a little pull at first.” Cillian warned Yael from his own horse, he was past that initial scary moment now, but he knew it was all new to her.

“Oh my freaking God!” She expressed in a panicked tone as the horse started to move. “Why didn’t you invite Evan to do this?” Yael closed her eyes tightly.

Everyone laughed, both Cia and Val were used to reactions like this when it was someone’s first time riding, it depended on the trust and bond the person could build with the horse.

“Try to not press your legs so much.” Val pointed out.

And finally after a few seconds, Yael opened her eyes, it felt a bit strange, the position she was sitting on, the movement, the way everything looked with the back of the head of the horse so close… but when she looked to her right and found Cillian smiling at her riding close, there were no words. She knew she would do it all over again.

“Eyes on the road please, you’re making me nervous.” She admitted loud enough for him to listen.

But this time, Yael laughed with them, she had started to feel comfortable enough to caress the horse’s hair and neck -trying not to lean too far-, but she was past the shock now, Cia even showed her how to take the reins, giving Yael instructions on how to make the horse take a left and then a right, showing that she was in total control.

“Oh wow, the stable looks so tiny from here.” Yael stated, looking how far they had moved.

“Do you wanna go back now?” Cillian asked, stopping his horse right in front of the other.

She nodded and they started to ride back, Val had to go back earlier to attend other customers. The view was absolutely breathtaking… as they got down from the horses, Cia suggested them go to the picnic table a few meters away from them. She gave the couple a look as they walked away, hoping the details Cillian requested would work, perhaps she should propose the romantic idea to the owners.

Reaching the picnic table under the tree, Yael gasped surprised as she saw everything; the table set for two, lemonade, tea, a pie, a basket with fresh fruits… she was touched by his gesture, her heart could explode from all the love she felt for him.

“This is beautiful, thank you.” She brushed her lips against his.

Cillian sighed relieved that she liked his plans.

“Had to compensate for the scary moment of riding a horse.” He chuckled.

She offered him a bite of one of the sandwiches and Cillian took it, looking right into her eyes, a soft smile decorating his lips. Taking a sip of his lemonade, Yael brushed a small leave from his hair, a lot of things were on her mind, but right there, looking at Cillian with the sun kissing his skin, the wind moving his hair, he was all she could focus on.

They enjoyed the food, it had been a long day and they would be staying close for the rest of the weekend, more riding lessons waiting for them. He needed to get into the mindset of his character and riding a horse was a fundamental part of Tommy Shelby.

“I’ve been thinking on what Val said earlier… about riding together.”

That caught Cillian’s attention, he fixed his eyes on her.

Taking a deep breath, Yael took his hand, looking for comfort, trying to ease her nerves by his touch. “I’d like to go for a ride… with you.”

Cillian was taken by surprise, the last bite of his sandwich stuffed into his mouth, but he was on his feet in seconds, taking a couple of cookies in his hand he offered his free one to his wife.

“Let’s go before you change your mind.” He celebrated pulling her excitedly, she laughed because of his eagerness.

Moments later, they were riding a beautiful dark chocolate horse named Brownie, but Cillian took her on another route, enjoying the calmness, riding together, he sitting behind Yael, his arms around her waist taking the reins, her body pressed gently against his chest, now knowing what to expect from the movement of the horse, trusting Cillian totally to take her wherever he wanted to.

She didn’t know how long they have been riding, but it surely helped her to clear her mind and heart, without realizing soon they reached the beach and the atmosphere changed completely as the sun was starting to go down,reflecting beautifully against the sea gifting them a breathtaking sunset.

One of his hands sneaked around, to wrap around her stomach, his thumb running small circles over her sweater, Yael bit her lower lip lightly thinking of this beautiful moment with her husband, of how much she had learned of herself in the last hours about horses, about riding, about trust.

“I want to try, Cill either way… IVF or adoption, whatever it is, as long as I have you by my side.” She didn’t have anymore doubts left, everything he did for her that day had been cathartic.

Slowly, she turned her head around to look at him, finding so much love in his eyes, she saw him nodding, now that she said it out loud it felt easier, lighter.

“Thank you for today, thank you for this beautiful date.”

Cillian brought up the hand that was holding her to cup her cheek, leaning his head forward, he captured her lips in a tender kiss. The sun lighting her features, making her glow.

He would take her on a hundred more dates.

****

Next part

A/N: Thank you for reading ☺️✨💐 I loved writing this part so much, I wanted them to have a moment of peace, romance, you already know it, your thoughts help me keep going and it’s the best payment I could get ✨

I read somewhere Cillian took a friend to do snowboarding while preparing for his role in Inception, I took inspiration from there too

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @heidimoreton @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @mrkdvidal1989 @hyperfixationsonshuffle

[happyocelot]

For some reason, I never posted this here until now. Team 8 + Hinata’s POV, set during the second of the Chuunin Exams when they’re all in the Forest of Death. A little bit of NaruHina.

Hope you all like this. Tell me what you think?

***

Hinata bunched up into her jacket, pulling the hoodie over her ears. Cicadas chirped and birds tittered. And then the occasional echoing of what may have been screams of terror. She tried not to dwell on those too much or else her palms got even paler and clammier than usual.

There were other sounds too, sounds neither she nor her teammates could identify, sounds that made Akamaru cover his ears and tuck in his tail, poor thing.

Lighting a campfire was a big no-no, said Shino, shoving his sliding sunglasses back up his face. Why? Because it was like sending up a flare, letting everyone know their location. Foolish.

We know that already, Kiba had snapped. Stop acting like you're some big shot, Shino.

Lunch had not been very pleasant so far, what with those two glowering at each other the whole time, Kiba taking comically large bites out of his energy bars and Shino advising him to please just chew a bit louder in case someone a hundred miles away hadn't heard them yet.

She thought of mediating. To tell Kiba that Shino meant well. To tell Shino to back off a bit, not be so professorial.

Her voice died in her throat before she even tried.

It wasn't like they would listen. No one listened, so what was the point in speaking?

Ya know, said a voice in her mind that sounded a lot like his. Whoever named this place has a thing for puns, right, Hinata?

His voice had been popping up on and off in her mind unbidden, ever since the first exam. Giving her advice. Trying to cheer her up. Telling her to count from one to ten when the mulchy, sickly-sweet scent of the forest became too overwhelming. Asking her if she packed any ramen for gnawing hunger pangs, 'cause you can't eat half the plants in this creepy place, can you? A loud peal of laughter, arms crossed behind his head, nodding sagely. When he did that, she had barely transformed her emerging giggle into a cough. She almost slipped from her tree branch.

Bright, loud, sunny. Anyone else would have found it annoying to find his voice in their head.

But Hinata? Hinata would never get tired of listening to him. Even if no one else did.

I'd like to listen to you, Hinata! said the Naruto that her mind had inexplicably daydreamed into being. You have a really nice voice, ya know? You should use it to tell those morons to shut up! They're waaaay too loud.

Hinata's thumbs twitched. She poked them together, her voice still dormant in her throat.

How do you even know that they won't listen if you haven't tried? Dream-Naruto wondered, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion. If it was me, I'd yell at them until my voice got through. I wouldn't give up, no matter what.

He...he was loud.

That's right!

She wondered if this was how he convinced Iruka-sensei to let him pass. By being really loud.

Nah, Iruka-sensei just saw my AWESOMENESS. He just had to let the future Hokage pass, ya know?

She giggled again and turned it into a hiccup just in time. Kiba's head whirled around.

"Hinata, you have hiccups? Why didn't you say so sooner, I would've given you some of my water!" He grinned, showing off his metal canister, coated in what seemed to be Akamaru's drool.

She smiled all the same.

"Thank you, Kiba-kun, but I'm fine."

Hinata~aaa, Dream-Naruto whined. You need to speak up a bit more. This hurts to watch.

***

It took a long time for her to find her voice again.

All the way through, Naruto kept cheering her on.

[vicsdeangelis]

short lil friends to lovers blurb i wrote based on the clip of Ethan at 5:56 in this video (partly bc i live in a very sunny, tropical area and the street he's driving on reminds me of this road by the beach that i used to drive on a lot, and partly bc i am very very in love with him lol)

also not long after i wrote this, a boy asked me to go to the beach with him. however he is sadly not Ethan(he plays guitar tho)

anyway enjoy! -drumstick blurb anon

~~~~~~~~~~

You were going to the beach with Ethan, the first meetup this year of what would be many. You hadn't seen him in months--your lives were both busy, with jobs and university and tour and whatnot, you figured it would be nice to catch up and reminisce on old times before all of the chaos started up again. You figured you'd walk along the beach, hang out, and possibly go somewhere to eat. This was a scenic route that you had been on many times, a nice tour of extravagant houses that nobody could buy, coupled with the impressive foliage unique to the area. You gazed out of the convertible, watching all of the mansions whiz by at the speed of light. The familar smell of chlorine from all of the ginormous pools and saltwater from the ocean filled your nostrils. The wind blew your hair in your face, how annoying. You chuckled, glancing over at him see if he was having the same problem. What you saw made you have to catch your breath.

You had always kinda liked him, you just never dwelled on your feelings that much because you never had the time. You weren't sure if he would reciprocate, and honestly why would he? It was much easier to just push it aside. However, it wasn't until this exact moment that you realized how truly deep you were in. You took in every detail: the bun that highlighted his beautiful glowing skin, the constellation of freckles going down his neck, freshly exposed by his tank top, the way his baby hairs were getting blown back by the wind, his side profile--his nose, his lips, his calm but determined expression while driving, his strong hand connected to his muscular arm clutching the wheel--it was all too much for you.

He was so so beautiful. And he was yours. Yours for the summer.

You envisioned laying on the beach and feeling the sun's warmth on your skin, being woken up to kisses going up your feet, lounging under the shade of a tree, falling asleep in his arms, kissing that only stopped when you needed to catch your breath, walking barefoot on the pavement, eating oranges and mangoes, drinking copious amounts of wine, lots of orgasms, the most bright clear ocean water, shopping in interesting places, getting gelato on your nose by accident, whispered "i-love-you's," dancing to street music, the calming lull of the ocean waves that drew you in...

Your hand met his instinctively, not intentionally. The reaction was a bit delayed, but he soon gave you a coy look that seemed to say "I know," his sunglasses slightly falling off. You wanted nothing more than to just grab them and toss them out of the car. You wanted him to look at you the way you had been at him for the past 15 minutes, which seemed like a lifetime.

Despite the barrier, you were still able to look into his eyes, even through the film of the glasses. They carried an air of uncertainty and anticipation. You looked away, it was too much once again. So many intense feelings in a short car ride.

You had really overstepped a boundary. You were friends, but not like that. He probably thinks way differently, he's probably freaked out, he's probabl-

You were jolted out of your anxious ramble by the feeling of a thumb rubbing your hand, as if to say "Hey, it's ok." He knew you well enough to know you were anxious. Did he know you well enough to know how fast your heart was pounding because of him, how every cell in your body had ignited just by the touch of his hand?

You gave him a weak look and his response was to raise your hand up and press a kiss to it. If the past couple of moments weren't enough for you, this was the nail in the coffin. This was it. You loved him. You loved  him.

stopppppp this is so cute!!!!!!

[raethethey]

must fucking terrifying nightmare ever.

《《was falling asleep in a sleeping bag/tent and dad walked by to give me smth to fall asleep better. said it was his restless leg syndrome meds. called it torrent??. i had like 7 of them in my hand for some reason. he thought he dropped one on my pillow and tried looking for it. searched under my pillow too. i said i need water to take these. so i get up and cant fucking see a thing. start walking on a sandy path. hes nowhere to be found anymore (i only ever saw his hand). my sister randomly pops up in front of me and is now leading me on this path. i grab a stick and start putting perpendicular ditch marks into the path to tell me where ive been. sister comments, says she does the same thing. we eventually come up on a bend in the path (my vision is a little better i can see the sand and trees around me). i say wait a sec. i know where i am. i turn around and happen upon and old building. looks kinda like a tiny church/the building where you would rent these kayaks and paddle boats at a vacation spot i know well. suddenly the entire vacation spot appears and im standing on the beach i know very well. but the kayak shack is still a bathroom. i cant see anything inside but i know the toilet is there smwhere. i try turning on my flashlight on my phone. it turns on for a split sec and then never again. as i sit on this toilet i wonder to myself, i need to get to the shop/game center this place has for some internet bc its the only place with some stable wifi. and for some reason thats when i realise im dreaming. so i finish using the restroom and walk out (now holding a lot more stuff?? sunglasses, a blur which i can only identify as my hanquokka stuffie bc its blue and brown, a bag that usually holds my money, earplugs, and rocks and crystals, and smth else. as my sister and i make our way back to the tent i was sleeping in i say 'im dreaming' to her. shes like lol no you arent. and i say 'yes i am. youre wearing sunglasses in a pitch black area. i need to wake up. watch this' and all of a sudden the sandy path we are walking on is actually a dock and theres a large lake in front of us. i fucking leap off and she freaks out cuz why the fuck would i just jump into a lake in the middle of the night holding all this important shit?!. a flash scene happens and shes now standing over my dripping body, assumingly done resecitating me. i still know im dreaming. then that reality fades out and another fades in. im now in a supermarket like a target or ikea (never been in an ikea btw) and im being dragged around by what i can only assume are my parents in this reality as a cat (who i look at and just know is actually my sister) drags a cart behind her that has a large portrait of smone (a king george i think) in the cart. my parents (keanu reeves and jamie lee curtis with a fluffy auburn bob haircut) are fighting as they pull my arms to where they want me to go. im resisting bc i still know im dreaming. i start shaking my head violently. a ringing in my ears starts and i am now experiencing the dream world in 4d instead of my usual 3rd person pov. and i can feel my real head moving just a tad. i start shaking more violently and the dreamworld "moves farther away and gets smaller" (kinda like if you were watching a youtube video on your phone right up against your eyes and then moved it away to arms length)》》 i am now awake. groggy as fuck and hot and sweating. i open my eyes and check the time: 3:34 am. i turn on my phone. blinded by the bright light knowing i need to write this out for some reason.

so yeah it wasnt even all that terrifying of a nightmare it was just terrifying in the sense that i knew i was dreaming and couldnt wake up for the longest time. i lump it in with my nightmares because i didnt really have control over what was happening. (i can lucid dream 80% of the time. 19% of the time i have no dreams. that 1% are nightmares)

[cali-holland]

Shot Me in the Heart- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Soccer Player/Frat!Tom X Reader

Prompt: The soccer rivalry between the Cornwall Bulldogs and the Illyria Tigers is an intense one. So when you, the sister of the Cornwall team captain, hit it off with Tom, the captain of the Illyria team, a twisted scheme is concocted by your brother to break Tom’s heart and the Tigers as a whole.

Word Count: 22k

Warnings: language, some steamy scenes, alcohol, tom gets injured (not severely), mentions of cheating

A/N: very heavily inspired by She’s the Man (hence the school names) ; and big thanks to H because without them, this fic would’ve never seen the light of day (love you H)

~~~

Days until the Illyria v. Cornwall Tournament Game: 115

The sun was hot, the beer was cold, and the sand was everywhere. With the start of spring classes tomorrow, all university students were at the beach, clad in varying styles of swimwear with a pair of sunglasses to top it off. You had ditched your coverup top over an hour ago, leaving you in just your swimsuit and jean shorts, as you joined your brother and a good majority of the men’s soccer team in a game.

“I’m open!” Someone shouted out to you, but you were too preoccupied dribbling the ball down the sandy, makeshift field to really hear him. Passing by the last two defenders on the opposing team, you shot the bright yellow ball at the goal and smiled triumphantly as it went shooting past the goalie into the net. Your team cheered, and you caught a few high-fives from your nearby teammates.

“You’re up.” You said to your brother, Nick, as you ran off the field, seeking a much-needed water break.

“You made 2 goals? Guess I’ll aim for 3.” He chuckled, patting you on the back in congratulations before heading into the game.

A tired smile crossed your face, and you started to walk towards a palm tree in a more remote area with your best friend sitting beneath it. You unceremoniously flopped onto your spread out beach towel, happy to finally get in some rest. Taking off your sunglasses, you wiped the sweat away from your face. “I don’t know how you can keep your nose in a book on a day like this,” you teased. “This is the last day of break!”

“I’m studying. You know Dr. Anderson always has quizzes during the first week.” Augustine sighed, and you shook your head at her before grabbing your insulated water bottle and taking several gulps from it, your body welcoming the cool liquid. “How’s your game going?”

“Well, when I left, it was 2-0, but we’ll see if Nick actually makes any goals.” You laughed.

“You really should try out for the women’s team next year.” She stated, but you shrugged, noncommittally.

“College soccer is a job, and one that I don’t want.” You explained, just as you had explained it to her several times before.

“Whatever you say.” She hummed, turning back to her textbook. You let out a small huff before finishing off your water.

Standing up from your towel, you looked around for the red cooler that Nick had brought specifically for beer. You smiled when you spotted it on the other side of the field, standing by the ocean, yet it was quick to disappear when you came up empty-handed at the cooler. Not a single beer was left in the pile of half melted ice.

“Why the long face?” You heard someone ask, making you whip your head up from the cooler. As the lid slammed shut, you were met with a sun kissed surfer. His wetsuit was half pulled down, exposing his toned waist, and, while he clutched a surfboard under one arm, his free hand shook through his wet, brown curls.

“There seems to be a beer shortage on my brother’s end of things.” You replied with a light sigh.

“Well, that just won’t do.” He shook his head in dramatic disbelief, “I’ve got some with my group. The blue tent, just over there.” He pointed to where at least a dozen people were lounging around in the sand, with a few individuals playing spikeball nearby.

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t believe I’m supposed to accept alcohol from strangers.” You told him, skeptical of his advances but still taken by his charming smile.

“I’m Tom and not a stranger anymore. What’s your name, love?”

“Y/N.”

“So, Y/N, would you like to come grab a beer with me?” Tom asked. You spared a quick glance over to the soccer game nearby, knowing that they’d probably call you back over in a bit. As you turned back to Tom, you smiled with a nod.

“Do you surf often?” You asked, casually trying to make some small talk while you two walked the short distance to his group.

“Nah, I just bought all the surfing gear to help me pick up girls.” He said with a lighthearted chuckle. “Tell me, is it working?”

“Ask me at the end of the night, and I’ll let you know.”

“Truth be told, I don’t surf nearly as much as I’d like to.” Tom began to explain as he planted his surfboard vertically in the sand, letting it stand and dry off under the warm sun. “Between school and other sports, I just don’t have the time. Do you surf?”

“No.” You shook your head, “I can paddleboard, but that’s about it when it comes to sea sports.”

You watched as Tom opened up a blue cooler, identical in all but color to Nick’s, and pulled out two beers. He handed you one, “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“I saw you out there earlier, playing soccer with that team.” He pointed in the direction of your fellow students, “You’re really good. Dare I even say better than the whole men’s soccer team at Cornwall.”

That’s when you noticed it— the blue tent with the massive tiger on the side. With the array of cleats and a few soccer balls scattered under the tent, you knew this had to be the soccer team’s tent for Illyria. You weren’t just talking to any random surfer; no, this was a soccer player at your rival university, Illyria.

While you were flattered by his compliment, it seemed far too generous. You were better than half of the soccer team, that was for sure— maybe even 75% of the players, but not all of them. Hell, your twin brother was on the team, and he could hold his own against you in a scrimmage.

“Are you sure you’re not only saying that because you’re a Tiger?” You asked him before taking a sip of your drink.

“Of course not. I hold no automatic prejudices against anyone based on their poor university choice.” His cheeky smile turned into a playful smirk, making you roll your eyes in faux offense.

“And I hold no negative preconceptions about you for your poor university choice either.” You said, stepping closer to him until you two were nose-to-nose. He bit his lip, his brown eyes darting between your lips and your eyes.

The moment was interrupted when a bright yellow soccer ball smacked Tom in the upper arm. Immediately, his guard was up, turning to face his opponent. Tom stepped in front of you as your men’s soccer team stood at the edge of a palm tree, forming a human barrier between where you stood now with the Tigers and the rest of your university students. Nick stood in the middle of his men, like the captain he was, and there was no doubt in your mind that he had been the one to so aggressively kick Tom with the soccer ball.

“Lose something, Y/L/N?” Tom asked bitterly, picking up the soccer ball that was at his feet. He threw it back at your brother, making his way over to him with his head held high and his jaw tightly clenched. The other soccer players from Tom’s team got up and began to form their own line to match your brother’s, the whole thing turning into one big stand-off. “Got a problem?”

“You stay away from my sister, Holland, or you’ll regret it.” Nick threatened him, and you took that as an opportunity to step in.

“This isn’t necessary.” You said, grabbing your brother’s arm. He looked at you before caving, deciding to leave the topic alone for now and spare any metaphorical or literal spilt blood, but he couldn’t leave without one final word.

“In two months, you’re going down, Holland.” He spat.

“In your dreams.” Tom’s voice was just as venomous as Nick’s. As everyone began to disperse back to their respective areas, Tom quickly grabbed your hand, effectively halting your own plans of recession.

“Call me.” He whispered in your ear, and you felt his fingers dip into your back pocket. As he headed towards a spikeball game, he blew you a quick kiss, and you smiled to yourself. Who knew the rival team’s captain could be so endearing?

“Y/N!” Nick shouted, drawing you back to the reality that was your beach soccer game. With a sigh, you adjusted your shorts and headed over to continue the game.

As the sun set a few hours later, everyone began to disperse from the beach. Glancing over to where Tom had been with his classmates, you bit back a frown to see the large spot on the beach completely vacant.

“I think the boys are going to the bar. Wanna come?” You asked Augustine while you tugged on your shirt to cover your swimsuit.

“Sure.” She nodded. “What was that all about earlier? With the Tigers?”

“Apparently I was flirting too heavily with their soccer captain for Nick’s liking.” You explained, packing up your things around you.

“Tom Holland? No way.” She said in disbelief, making you pause your actions to look at her quizzically. “Y/N, stay away from him. He’s never good news. He’s a total dick and the biggest player you’ll ever meet.”

“How do you know that?” You questioned. You didn’t doubt her, but hearing her, your goody-two shoes best friend, talk about him in such a way seemed strange.

“My cousin goes to his uni, and she hooked up with him last year. He was a good fuck, but an absolute dick the next morning when he kicked her out. He said he’d call, but never did. All he cares about is soccer and getting laid.” At her words, you thought back to the slip of paper that seemed to burn a hole in your pocket.

“Relax.” You told her with a smile. “It was harmless flirting.” So far.

While she was distracted, you slipped the paper note out of your pocket and looked it over for the first time. You didn’t even know when he had the time to write it out, but maybe if he was a player, he just happened to have a stash of pieces of paper with his number on it. You put the paper in your bag, deciding it was best to not discuss it with Augustine or Nick or anyone else.

Half an hour later, you and Augustine arrived at the sports bar, where your brother and a good portion of the soccer team were already gathered. An old professional soccer game played on the TVs, and, despite knowing the score at the end of the game, you all joined in on yelling over fouls and cheering for goals.

“God, that ref does not understand the game. How the fuck was that not a handball?” You grumbled, helping yourself to some hot wings that had been placed at your table. Augustine stayed silent, knowing better than to disagree with you.

“Don’t hate the ref. He’s helping my team win.” Nick countered as he came up to your table, sliding into an open high seat. Though he was smiling, you could tell he still seemed pissed off about earlier.

“If they didn’t suck, they wouldn’t need the ref to help them win.” You stated as if it was obvious.

“Speaking of teams sucking,” He started with a sigh, “Johnny tore his ACL.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked at your brother, knowing exactly what that meant. Johnny, the team’s best forward, was absent from today’s beach day and for good reason apparently. With their second best defender, Caleb, out for the season with a massive concussion, the team was weak and Nick knew it— you all knew it.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, solemnly.

“Train harder. That’s all we can do.” He shrugged, before he looked up at you, expectantly, “There is something you can do though.”

“No matter how good I am, I can’t join the men’s soccer team.” You laughed, trying to brush off whatever proposition he was about to throw at you.

“No, but you could weaken the other team.” Nick explained, “Remember last year, when we played the Tigers at the beginning of the season and we absolutely annihilated them? Holland couldn’t shoot for shit because he and his girlfriend broke up an hour before the game.”

“Nick,” You warned as you began to understand where he was going with this.

“You saw him today— he’s into you. Date him for a couple months, get him to really fall for you, and then, right in time for the tournament game, break his heart.”

“That’s cruel, Nick.”

“Look, we play Illyria twice this season. Next week, then at the end of the season. And then, we play them for the first week of the final tournament— whoever loses that game is out of the tournament. If you break up with him at that point, he’ll be shit again and we’ll beat Illyria. We can take out our strongest competitor and win the tournament.”

“I’m not going to exploit someone like that.” You said definitively.

“Oh come on,” Augustine piped into the conversation, “Breaking his heart? It’s nothing he hasn’t done before.”

“You know we have no chance at winning the tournament without Johnny and Caleb. As much as I hate to admit it, Holland’s too good of a striker for me to be the only line of defense.” Nick reasoned.

“Your team’s shit. That’s not my fault.” You argued, standing up from your table, suddenly no longer wanting to spend your time in the lively sports bar. 

As you left you heard your brother call out to you with one final comment, “If you don’t do it, our loss will be your fault.”

When you got back to the safety of your apartment, you let out a frustrated sigh. You could just go on with your life and your studies by not getting involved in Nick’s rivalry. Who was he anyway to tell you to do something so morally questionable? Your brother and the team captain who actually was reliant upon you to pull this off, you reminded yourself. Besides, if you didn’t do this, the whole soccer team and every school-spirited soccer fan would hate you— Nick would be sure that everyone would know of your betrayal. The team was just as much yours as it was his, even if you weren’t on it; you were the unofficial student manager of the team, a friend to all of the players and present for every game, party, practice, pep-talk— if the team was there, you were there.

On the other hand, if you did do this, then Tom and his entire team (and their supporters) would hate you. You didn’t particularly care about their opinion of you; hell, they probably didn’t even know who you were, but you were concerned with what Tom thought about you. If Nick hadn’t gotten involved, you would’ve enjoyed yourself at the beach with Tom and perhaps elsewhere too. You knew it’d break his heart, if he did actually fall for you, but, taking into account what Augustine said, maybe he did deserve it. Maybe it was time that the player gets played.

Without a second thought, you added Tom’s name and number into your phone. You’d text him later.

~~~

Days until the Tournament Game: 108

For the next week, you did your best to not think about Tom, but, with the soccer season kicking off at full-speed, you could hardly escape Nick. With the first match of the season today, Nick was on heightened alert about his plan. While the rest of the team trickled out of the locker room, ready to go warm up for the game against Illyria, Nick came over to you and threw an arm around your shoulders.

“You should text him now.” He told you, “Or else you’ll never do it. Besides, it could throw him off for the game.”

“Why don’t you focus on playing soccer and I’ll focus on my thing, okay?” You asked, rolling your eyes at him.

“This game sets the precedent for this season.”

“I know.” You let out a small sigh, shrugging off his arm while you two made your way down the concrete hall to the field. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks, sis.” Nick smiled at you before running after his team. You stood in the hall for a moment, checking to see if Illyria was out yet. Spotting Tom across the stadium, checking his phone, you pulled out your own phone.

‘Good luck, Tiger. See you tonight?’ you sent the text with a small smirk on your face. You watched as Tom looked up from his phone, searching the stadium for you. He locked eyes on you and winked, before typing out a reply.

‘You’ll know where to find me, Bulldog.’

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and made your way to your seat while Tom started to warm up with his team. Sitting in the first row of the stands, directly behind your team, you were as close to the action as possible (and you could even yell out tips to Nick when he wasn’t playing). Augustine was already seated right beside your spot, sporting your team’s merch even though she was indifferent towards soccer.

The game began soon after, and your eyes fixated on Tom, watching him move about the field. You’d seen him play before, but you’d never actually noticed him playing. With the way he controlled the ball, dribbling it down the grass, he owned the pitch, and, with how he made sure to always pass it to his open teammates, there was no doubt in your mind how he became captain; he was simultaneously a stellar solo and a team player.

Despite the excitement buzzing in the crowded stadium and the energy radiating off the players on the field, the game itself was rather uneventful. There were no cards, no goals, no fouls— even though you knew any objective ref would’ve called them. In the eightieth minute, the hype came back in the crowd; everyone wanted to see the players actually make a goal.

One of your forwards had shot the ball at the opposing team’s goal, and the white ball ricocheted off the goalpost and practically landed at Tom’s feet. He took off down the field, his feet dancing with the ball beneath him. He was fast—the other players on your team could barely catch him. Nick was ready at the goal, ready to block any shot. You watched with bated breath as one of your defense players came speeding up behind Tom. Before Tom could kick the ball for the final time, the defender slid for the ball, effectively tripping his opponent. It was a fast, swift movement, but with how Tom reacted, tripping and falling to the ground in pain, you knew exactly what move your player had just pulled.

“That’s a foul!” You shouted angrily. No one in your section seemed to pay any mind to your words; they were too busy cheering on the defender that had just taken down the other team’s star player. You looked over at Augustine, wondering if she thought the same as you, but she just shrugged and continued to cheer. Wanting a fair game, you weren’t about to let it go. Turning back to the field, where Tom’s teammates had gathered around him and the defender was having heated words with the ref, you continued, “Foul! His cleats were up!”

“Y/N, stop.” Augustine urged.

“No. That defender always does slide tackles with his cleats up, and he struck Tom first, not the ball. I guarantee it. Tom needs to get a penalty kick. It’s only fair.”

“If he gets a penalty kick, he might make a goal and win.” She argued, making you roll your eyes at her. 

“I just want a fair game.” You crossed your arms, turning to face the field once more, just in time for the ref to call it a foul. He drew a yellow card on your player as Tom stood up, with the help of his teammates. Tom limped for a moment, and you wondered if he was really injured or if he was just being a soccer player. Judging by how he shook it off and got ready for his penalty kick, you assumed the latter.

“Come on, Nick.” You mumbled, eyes darting between the two captains. You mentally murmured words of encouragement for Tom, not wanting anyone around you to pick up on it. After waiting for another moment to pass, Tom kicked the ball with full force. Nick jumped to the left, but the ball went soaring into the upper right corner of the net.

Their fans erupted in cheers as your fellow students booed. Tom celebrated briefly with his teammates. As he made his way down the field to the middle to start again, he smiled up at you, offering you a quick wave. Smiling, you waved back, much to the disgruntlement of the students around you.

“Gotta keep the rouse up.” You said to Augustine, but you couldn’t deny the flutter in your heart at his action.

The game ended shortly afterwards with Tom’s one goal as the only goal, securing his team the win. Normally, you’d make your way down to your team’s locker room to talk to the team. Today, though, you made your way to the far side of the stadium to the Tigers’ locker room. Leaning against the concrete wall, you had your head down, scrolling through Twitter while you waited for Tom to emerge. Players began to trickle out of the room, all in various stages of dress as they cheered, conversed, and even shouted their ways down the hall to the exit.

“Someone’s on the wrong side of the stadium.” You heard Tom say as he stepped out of the locker room. In a simple grey t-shirt and jeans with wet hair, you could tell he was freshly showered. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“I was probably the only Bulldog calling for a foul when you got slide tackled.” You replied, nodding down to his leg, “How bad is it?”

“Scratched up. The fucker used his cleats.” He grumbled as you two started to make your way down the hall towards the exit.

“He always does. I don’t know why Nick keeps him on the team.” You stated. “Nice shot though.”

“Thanks.” He let out a small laugh, “You know, I’ve actually always hated PKs. There’s too much pressure with them.”

“Don’t you hold the record for most scored PKs?” You hadn’t meant for the question to slip out, and you tried to bite back your embarrassment as amusement crossed his face.

“Been Googling my record?” Tom teased, nudging your arm with his elbow.

“I’ve got to size up the competition.” You answered with a smirk.

“Love, if you wanted to size me up, you could’ve just asked.” 

“So,” You started, effectively changing the topic, “Where are we going for dinner?”

“It’s a surprise.” Tom answered. A cheeky smile spread across his lips as he stopped in front of a motorcycle.

“Is this really your ride or is it a ploy to pick up girls like the surfboard?”

“Careful. You might be onto something there.” He teased as he fished a helmet out of his soccer bag. He handed it to you, your fingers brushing against his during the exchange. After you put it on your head, Tom wordlessly helped adjust the helmet, making sure it was on properly. He attached his bag to the back of the motorcycle, strapping it in place.

“Do I get any hints for the surprise?” You asked as Tom sat on the bike and you climbed on behind him.

He pondered it for a moment before shaking his head, that same carefree smile on his lips, “No. Hold on.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging yourself close to him as he started up the bike. As he took off out of the parking lot, you felt an exhilarating pit build up in your stomach. Whether it was from the adrenaline of being on a motorcycle or from being so close to Tom, you weren’t sure, but you loved the feeling. After a few minutes of driving, he pulled into a parking lot, lit by a neon sign. The brand was half burnt out, but perhaps the most important word, “Taqueria”, was lit up perfectly.

“Tacos.” You said, biting back an impressed smile at him choosing perhaps the best cuisine.

“Only the best.” Tom nodded, satisfied. You got off the bike and he followed. He grabbed his bag while you took off the helmet.

“I don’t know. The taqueria across from Cornwall’s stadium is pretty amazing.” You stated, making him scoff playfully.

“Tell you what, next time we get tacos, we can go there, and you can prove to me how wrong you are.” He laughed as he led you into the little taco joint. The tables were empty, but yet again, it was a bit late for a taco run.

“Holland! There’s our fútbol star!” The man behind the register cheered. Clapping, he asked, “Did we win?”

“Of course.” Tom smiled at him, and the man did a happy clap again.

“Ah, then it’s drinks on the house!” He looked over at you and his old brown eyes lit up, “What can I do for you? It’s been a long while since Holland here has brought such a lovely lady friend in.”

“Oh, is it now?” You laughed, feeling you were sharing an inside joke with the stranger.

“I’m Marco, and here we make the best tacos, especially for the best Illyria player and his friends.” Marco winked at the word ‘friends’.

After you ordered your food, Tom ordered his usual. As another employee fixed the food, Marco talked to you about Tom like he was a legendary Illyria player. You saw a more bashful side of Tom there; you began to wonder if maybe the soccer star had some reservations about openly discussing his achievements.

“Here’s your food. And, Tom, upstairs is open.” Marco said, handing over a plastic bag that smelled like Mexican food heaven.

“Thank you.” Tom smiled as he grabbed the bag with his free hand. Confused by Marco’s comment, you were about to ask Tom about this mysterious upstairs (to your knowledge, the building was only one story high), when Tom led you to the back. Marco stayed at the counter and the sole cook paid no mind to you either. A door in the corner was marked “roof access”.

“So, the soccer star gets special privileges.” You remarked, impressed by how his Illyria captain status literally opened doors for him. He shrugged with a small laugh as he led the two of you up the stairs and onto the roof.

“Does Nick’s status get him views like this?” Tom asked, walking over to the edge. You found yourself speechless as you stepped up besides him. You hadn’t realized how much you had changed in elevation, but the taqueria was nestled so perfectly on a hill that you got an almost completely unobstructed view of the city below. You could see Illyria’s campus just a few blocks away, and, even further in the distance, Cornwall was visible, too. It was magnificent, completely unlike anything you’d seen at Cornwall.

“No, I can’t say it does.” You said, breathlessly.

“Hold this for a second,” Tom handed you the bag of food, and then began to search in his bag. He pulled out a towel and frowned a little. “Okay, it’s a bit damp, but I figure a damp towel is better than nothing.”

“Learn that from experience?” You asked with a laugh.

“Bird shit is not fun to sit in.” He replied, laying the towel out so you two could sit down and enjoy your meal.

“Words of wisdom.” You nodded, taking out one of your tacos. You were about to bite into it when you noticed Tom watching you intently. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see the look of pure ecstasy on your face when you first taste this divine taco.” Tom said as he leaned in closer to you. His voice was so smooth, you nearly forgot how to breathe.

“Are you going to etch that look into your memory?” You asked with a cock of your eyebrow. If he wanted to play a flirting game, then so be it. Not that you minded anyway. You only had two months for Nick’s twisted plan to work, so you had to move relatively quickly to wrap Tom around your finger. 

“Doubt I’ll have to.”

“You think very highly of this taco… and of yourself.” You joked.

“Cheers?” Tom held up his taco to you, and you clinked yours against his.

“Cheers.”

As you bit into the taco, you couldn’t even attempt to describe how delicious it was. Every aspect of it rolled together in harmony, and it was, by far, the best taco you’d ever had. You weren’t sure if your face was as orgasmic as Tom was hoping for, considering the sauce from the taco dripped down your chin, but you couldn’t care.

“Good, huh?” Tom asked, and you nodded, reaching for a napkin to wipe yourself off. Dripping in taco sauce wasn’t the best way to spend a first date.

“Incredible.” You agreed before taking another bite.

“Do you still want to go to your place next time?” He laughed.

“That’s the second time you’ve brought up a next time.” You pointed out.

“And? You haven’t told me this is a one time thing.” Tom countered.

He was right, and he knew it. Still, you were curious about what Augustine had said about her cousin. Tom was a player, wasn’t he? “At Cornwall, you have a reputation. A glorious fuck, but for one night and one night only. Are the girls at Cornwall lying, or is there more to soccer star Tom Holland that meets the eye?”

Tom laughed, finding your inquiry comical. He picked at his taco for a moment, trying to think of a response before he finally found the words, “I was a player. It was a long time ago, though.”

“What changed?” You asked, and he shrugged.

“I got bored? I don’t know.” He replied, a sudden seriousness settled between the two of you. “I had just gotten out of a relationship. It really fucked with me, and so for months, I took the easy way to finding a connection with someone. Then, I hit the point where I didn’t like it anymore. All the girls drooled over me, and yet none of them wanted to date me because of that reputation.” He was silent for a moment, and a cocky smile graced his lips again, “The girls at Cornwall got one thing right, though. I am a pretty glorious fuck.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You almost had me pitying you, Holland.”

“You can still pity me. I’m just saying— I’m too fuckable for my own good.” He laughed.

“Those girls got another thing right, too. You’re an egomaniac.” You smirked, and Tom gasped in faux offense.

“Am I now?” He asked, and you nodded, “Well, what about you? What are you?”

“Not an egomaniac, that’s for sure.”

“A smart-ass.”

“Maybe.” You played along. “I’d like to think I’m a good fuck. I don’t know about glorious, though.”

“You’d like to think that?” Tom questioned, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“I’m not an egomaniac, remember? I don’t self-identify as fuckable.”

“You didn’t deny it about me though.” He smirked, “You are fuckable, and you know I’m fuckable. What’s stopping us?”

There was a playfulness in his voice. Despite all this talk of how “fuckable” he was, he hadn’t even attempted to make a proper move on you, not in that way. You shrugged, unable to think of a witty response.

You weren’t sure how serious he was in his question, but as he turned back to focus on his taco, you realized it wasn’t worth it to answer. He’d opened up, partially, about his ex and his own sex life; you didn’t want to pry for more. He was already letting you in, and you knew it was only a matter of time until you broke him, just like she did.

Just as you two finished your meal, Tom’s phone began to ring. He sighed as he looked at the contact and didn’t even bother to answer it.

“Everything alright?” You asked, and he nodded.

“The frat’s throwing a party ‘in my honor’. My absence has been noticed, to say the least.” Tom said, but he made no effort to get up.

“You should go.” You encouraged him. He stood up and offered you his hand.

“You should come, too.” He stated. With your hand in his, he helped you up— which was a lot more forceful than you expected, and you ended up crashing into his chest. Neither of you made any move to separate as you looked into his eyes. When you felt like your heart was about to burst from the close contact, one of his hands crept up your arm, caressing its way to your cheek.

“Is this a ploy to get me in your bed, Holland?” You questioned teasingly, leaning in closer to him. He smirked, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“And if it is?”

“We better get going then.” You said as you turned away from him. You picked up the towel, rolling it up, and Tom was momentarily too stunned to move.

“Such a tease.” He breathed out, almost in awe of you.

“Come on, Holland. Show me how glorious you are.” You winked at him before heading to the roof door. 

You didn’t catch him mumbling under his breath, “Fuck, I’m in love,” before he grabbed his bag and adjusted the growing boner in his sweats. He rushed after you, wanting to get back to his place as soon as possible.

~~~

A short while later, you and Tom arrived at the frat house. People were all over the place, dancing, shouting, drinking, overall having a good time. You could tell there was rage cage going on in the living room and alcohol was being downed in copious amounts from the kitchen, and you could tell exactly where the bathroom was based on the line of girls waiting to use it. The music pulsed through the house, making it seemingly come to life.

“Welcome to my place.” Tom shouted over the loud music. No one had noticed your arrival yet, too involved in their own parties to care. Tom slipped his hand into yours. You barely heard him say, “Come with me,” before he took you up the stairs and away from the crowd.

He paused at the closed door at the end of the end of the hall. With his house keys in hand, he fiddled for a moment to find the right key for the lock. When he succeeded at unlocking the door, he held it open for you, letting you into his bedroom.

It was a decent sized room with one double bed pushed into the corner. There was a TV propped up on a cardboard box (of all things) with a beanbag chair in front of it. There was no nightstand by the bed, but there was a mostly-full bookshelf and a dresser, both littered with miscellaneous objects and trophies. Medals and photos decked the walls.

“Ah, I’ve always wanted to look at the entire Illyria soccer team while banging.” You joked, pointing out the team photo hanging decently close to his bed.

Tom wordlessly wandered across the room and took it off the wall, setting it on his bookshelf, out of view. “Do you want to keep redecorating my room or should we finish what you didn’t want to start on the roof?”

“I don’t know…” You trailed off, turning to keep taking in his room. Tom grabbed your hand in his, spinning you around to face him. He trapped you in his warm embrace, a wicked smirk on his face. His lips were just mere nanometers away from yours when his door burst open. Apparently, he’d forgotten to lock it again.

“Holland, are you going to come down or what?” His interrupting frat brother and teammate questioned. “This party’s for you.”

“I’m kinda in the middle of something.” Tom said, nodding towards you, not even bothering to step away from you, and his teammate just looked at him skeptically.

“Doesn’t look like there’s much going on. Come on, man, we need you for rage cage.”

As Tom looked at you, you smiled reassuringly, “You can go. I’ll wait up here.”

“You sure? You don’t want to come too?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t think the Tigers will want a Bulldog down there, not after what our defense tried to pull.” You laughed lightly. As much as Tom didn’t want to admit it, he knew it was true; both of your teams struggled with the concept of “forgive and forget”, especially when it came to purposefully attempting to injure another player.

“Alright, bulldog. I’ll be back in a bit.” Tom leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek before he left you alone and followed his teammate out of the room.

You let out a small sigh, wondering what to do now. Your problem seemed to be solved when your phone began to ring.

“Are you still alive?” Nick asked almost immediately when you answered his call. His words were slightly slurred, and, based on the loud music in the background, you could only assume he was calling from his own team’s massive party.

“Yes, I’m still alive.” You replied. Mindlessly, you walked around his room.

“You ran off so fast after the game, I had to make sure Holland didn’t kidnap you.”

“Because we couldn’t possibly have gone on a date instead.” You rolled your eyes at his words, even if he couldn’t see you. Your eye roll only doubled when you heard Augustine chime in.

“Holland? Taking you on a date? You’re really not putting out, aren’t you?” She questioned with a giggle.

“What’s it to you two if I am or not?” You scoffed.

“Nick, baby, who’s on the phone?” You heard someone ask in the background. You already knew who it was— Monique, Nick’s shitty girlfriend that you quite frankly hated.

“I have to go.” Without another word, you hung up the call and slipped your phone back into your pocket.

Just as you were about to sit back down on Tom’s bed, his bookshelf caught your eye. There were a couple textbooks and other nonfiction business-centered books on the lower shelves, but the top half held various momentos— a plastic award for best player (an obvious gag gift from his team), a couple medals for running, soccer, and even golf, and a black polaroid in the far corner. You smiled to yourself, having never taken him for the sentimental polaroid type.

Noticing the faint traces of dust across it, you carefully picked up the polaroid. To your surprise, a single photograph was stuck underneath the camera. You curiously took off the picture, wondering what it could be if Tom had forgotten about it. In the photograph, he was with another girl; her back was to the camera, and Tom half-turned away, smiling at her beside him. The handwritten date on the bottom of the polaroid told you it was taken a year ago, and your heart sank when you realized that this had to be his ex-girlfriend, the same one who functioned as inspiration for Nick’s scheme. Whoever she was, Tom was obviously in love with her, and it was no question to you why it hurt him so much when she left.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t find that.” You jumped, hearing Tom’s voice from the doorway.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” You replied sheepishly. You reached to put the camera back, but Tom stopped you, gently taking it into his hands.

“I’d nearly forgotten about this camera. I used to take it with me everywhere.” He admitted. His eyes drifted from the camera to the photograph still in your hand. Scoffing lightly, he shook his head and put the device back onto the shelf, “I think that was the worst day of my life.”

“Want to talk about it?” You offered. Despite knowing you were setting him up for the same heartbreak, you still felt the need to act as a listening ear.

“What is there to talk about?” Tom shrugged as he took the picture from you. He balled it up and threw it in his trash can without a second thought. When he sat down on the bed, you found a seat beside him. It was silent as you let him find his words, “We dated for two years, and I found out the day we took that picture that she had been cheating on me with—“ he paused, “with another soccer player. And we had the big Cornwall and Illyria game that day. I nearly gave up on playing because I could not score for shit.”

“Do you know who the other guy was?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah, but he’s not worth it anymore.” He said, “And she’s not worth it anymore either.”

“Definitely not.” You smiled softly. You tentatively reached up and traced a few fingers through Tom’s hair, “She must’ve been blind to cheat on you.”

“You don’t need to flatter me just because we’re talking about my shit ex.” Tom laughed.

“Fine.” You teased, trailing your hand down to the collar of his t-shirt. “Is there something you’d rather do?”

A smirk crossed his lips, “More like someone.”

“What are you going to do about it?” You raised an eyebrow challengingly, feeling his hand ghost over your hip.

The next thing you knew, Tom’s lips came crashing onto yours. It was rough and heated, yet still passionate and soft. If he kissed all of his hookups like this, then you could see how they all ended up heartbroken when he’d ask them to leave. Hell, you didn’t want him to stop. Tom hooked his hands underneath each of your thighs and flipped the two of you, laying you down on the bed.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” Tom mumbled as he trailed his lips down to your neck, rotating between kissing, sucking, biting, and licking your exposed skin.

“A week?” You asked teasingly, tugging on his hair when he sucked particularly hard on your sweet spot.

“Feels like an eternity.” He admitted, and he pulled away. You helped him hurriedly tug off his shirt and yours before his lips were back on yours.

The next morning, you woke up to the frightening sound of an alarm. You worried for a moment that you’d missed a class, but then you realized it was only Sunday and snuggled back down into your pillow… your very warm and human-like pillow. You blinked your eyes open and looked up to realize you’d been using Tom’s bare chest as a pillow.

“Morning, love.” He smiled at you, his voice still thick with sleep and his eyes still partially closed. He kept one hand firmly on your waist as he reached out to grab his phone from the nightstand with his other. With a yawn, he shut off his phone’s alarm.

“What time is it?” You asked, resting your head back on his chest, enjoying the warmth that radiated off him.

“8. I have practice.” Tom said sheepishly, “You can stay here and sleep some more, if you want.”

“I wish I could, but I should probably go. I’ve got team stuff to do.” You stated. 

You looked up at Tom, and he gently cupped your cheek before pulling you in for a good morning kiss. It was a lot less rushed and steamy than the kisses you shared last night, but it wasn’t any less passionate. You smiled against his lips, letting yourself get wrapped up in this moment of pure bliss.

“So, what do you think? Am I pretty glorious fuck?” Tom questioned, wiggling his eyebrows playfully at you.

You paused, acting like you were thinking hard about the question, “I might need more convincing.”

“Well in that case,” Tom’s hands drifted to the bottom of your shirt (really, it was his) and glided underneath the cotton fabric, smoothing his palms over your bare skin.

“What about practice?” You asked.

“I can be late.” He replied, unbothered by the thought, before crashing his lips to yours with a newfound hunger.

~~~

Days until the Tournament Game: 101

You stood in the warm stadium hallway, nervously trying not to make eye contact with the various staff members and assistants around you. You didn’t even recognize these people, but they didn’t recognize you, and that was enough to send them into a judgmental spiral. It didn’t last much longer as loud footsteps made their way down the hall.

The men’s soccer team of Illyria was singing an off-key tune, pumping themselves up for their second game of the season. A smile crossed your face as you caught the attention of a certain brunet. Tom said something to his friend before running over to you.

“You’re at the wrong game, Bulldog.” Tom teased, his hand resting on your waist.

“Maybe I’m here to see a different Tiger.” You replied, making him playfully roll his eyes. He leaned in to kiss you, giving you a proper ‘no one else can kiss you like this’ snog.

“I missed you.” He whispered into your lips when he finally pulled away.

“You saw me this morning.”

“I know.” The smile didn’t leave his face, but his voice dropped even quieter, ensuring that no one else could hear it, “Who knows, maybe mind-blowing sex is my good luck charm?”

“You’re so full of it.” You laughed, before kissing him again.

“Holland! Get over here!” The coach shouted from the stadium entrance where he and the other players were waiting for their team captain to lead them onto the field.

“Go win this one, Tiger.” You told Tom, and he winked at you.

“I will.”

As Tom left to make his big entrance, you hurried to your seat in the stands. In a crowd of Illyria students, you stuck out like a sore thumb with not one piece of Illyria gear on you.

“Get lost?” Harry asked from beside you. You’d met Tom’s brother last weekend when you stayed over at his place, and, while the walk of shame was a strange way to meet your lover’s sibling, the curly-haired freshman didn’t seem fazed.

“Just about killed me to come on the home side of these stands.” You joked. The crowd cheered as Tom kicked the ball, signaling the start of the match. Harry looked at you quizzically for a moment, and you asked, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Here.” Harry took off his beanie and handed it to you. “You need some proper school spirit.”

In his Holland jersey and with blue stripes across his cheeks, he was already spirited enough for the game today. Smiling, you tugged the beanie on, “How do I look? Like a traitor?”

“Like you belong.” He laughed, nudging your elbow before turning back to the game.

You wondered what Tom would say when he saw you wearing his brother’s blue beanie. You and Tom weren’t officially dating, but it was well known across the frat that you were off-limits. Harry’s offer was completely platonic, but still, you wondered if maybe the beanie could spur Tom into making it official between the two of you.

It was nearing half-time when Tom finally caught a moment to look over at you. He did a double take, spotting the beanie. His tired smile widened, and he blew you a kiss. You ignored Harry’s teasing nudging, too content with Tom’s reaction.

The game ended 2-1 with Illyria winning. You waited outside the locker room with Harry, who had driven both you and Tom to the game (Tom’s bike was, sadly, in the shop for routine maintenance). The beanie still rested on your head, shielding you from the cold that now flooded the concrete stadium.

It seemed to take Tom ages to get outside, but you and Harry kept each other company, talking about your upcoming assignments. With your back to the door, you didn’t realize Tom had emerged from the locker room until someone took the beanie off your head.

“Hey!” You protested, but before you could turn around Tom put his sweaty jersey on your head. You immediately took it off— as much as you loved Tom’s husky scent, you didn’t need his sweaty stench suffocating you.

“My girl, my gear.” He said, putting the beanie on Harry before giving his brother a noogie. Harry was helpless to his brother’s actions.

“Next time, you’re walking,” Harry threatened as he fixed his beanie and walked ahead of you two.

Tom threw his arm around your shoulder and smiled at you. You countered his smile by covering his head with his jersey. He let out a huff, “Hey, I gave this to you. It’s a gift.”

“I’ll have it after you wash it.” You teased. Tom removed the jersey from his head and slung it over his shoulder— luckily, not the one you were leaning into.

“So demanding.” He let out a faux sigh of annoyance. His attitude changed a split second later as he casually pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “I think my good luck charm worked today.”

“It was one game.”

“And we won.” Tom stated, “Why don’t you and I celebrate? You know, I’m going to need a shower when I get home.”

“Someone’s hopeful.” You laughed, shaking your head, “Don’t you have a midterm on Monday?”

Tom’s face dropped, and he let out a long, almost childish groan. “I hate my life.” Another groan escaped his lips, “You know, my frat’s having a party tonight.”

“In your honor— as always.” You teased.

“And you know, I won’t get any work done if I go back there tonight.” He trailed off, hoping you’d get his message. When you didn’t respond, he asked, “Can I stay at yours tonight?”

You wanted to say “yes” with no hesitation, but something kept the word in your throat. Augustine was your roommate. If you brought Tom over, he’d meet her. As much as you loved her, you didn’t really want to wrap Tom up even further in this scheme. Yet again, maybe you’d already overstepped by being friends with Harry. ‘What the hell’, you thought.

“Sure.” You nodded, knowing he already had his backpack in Harry’s car.

When the three of you got to Harry’s car, Tom informed his brother of the new destination. Harry just shrugged it off, not really caring either way— that’s how it goes when Tom offers to buy him coffee for a week for taxiing him around.

It wasn’t until you and Tom were dropped off and were making your way across campus to your dorm that you remembered about Cornwall’s home game today. Judging by the excitement of your fellow students on campus, you assumed they won.

“Everyone’s staring at me. And not in a good way.” Tom mumbled in your ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you in closer to him.

“Maybe if you weren’t sporting Illyria merch on Cornwall grounds, they wouldn’t be sending you dirty looks.” You teased, your own arm sliding around his waist while you two walked. “Besides, you have nothing to worry about. The drunk idiots wouldn’t dare hurt your pretty face while I’m here.”

“Ah, well, I’m so glad my girl’s here to protect me.” There was a lighthearted humor in his voice, but you still stopped in your tracks at his words.

“Your girl?” You asked, turning slightly to face him. “You called me your girl earlier tonight, too.”

Tom smiled almost nervously at you. He began to ramble, confirming your suspicions of his feelings, “Yeah? Unless you don’t want to be my girl. I just thought, since we’ve been going good for a week now— I guess I never asked, so will you go out with me? Officially?”

You barely focused on his words, too enamored by how adorable he looked all flustered. He was the suave player kind of guy, not the bashful “will you go out with me” kind of guy. Biting your lip, you attempted to refrain from laughing as you nodded, but Tom saw right through you.

“I’m trying to ask you out here— the least you could do is not laugh while I’m still here.” He fauxed offense, dramatically turning on his heel. He began to walk off, and you quickly grabbed his hand to stop him.

“Wait, wait, I didn’t say anything.” You said, through some more laughter. You spun him around to face you and cupped his face in your hands. “Yes, I’ll officially be your girl.”

“Glad we worked this out.” Tom stated, leaning in to kiss you. As he wrapped you up in his embrace, in the middle of campus, you felt the rest of the world fade away. You knew in your heart that this would end all too soon, but you kinda liked the thought of being Tom’s girl, exclusively.

You were pulled back to reality as you heard Augustine call out your name. Tom kept an arm around your waist as you turned to see your friend. Forcing your most believable genuine smile, you introduced them, “Oh, Tom, this is my best friend, Augustine. Augustine, this is Tom, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you.” Tom said with a polite smile. She looked him over and forced a smile before turning to you.

“Did you forget about the game today?” She asked, throwing you off guard. She’d never really cared about sports— only ever attending games with you by her side, so why is she suddenly questioning your lack of appearance?

“No, I, uh,” You glanced at Tom beside you, “I was with Tom. He had a game today, too.”

“Oh, it’s just not like you to miss a game.” Her voice dropped at your words, and part of you wondered if she was just acting ignorant to this whole facade or if she was genuinely concerned over you missing the game. “Are you heading back to the apartment?”

“Yeah, Tom’s going to stay the night. He’s got a midterm on Monday, but his frat’s going to be partying all weekend.” You explained to her.

“Partying? Wonder why.” She mumbled under her breath, and you decided it was best to just ignore her words.

The three of you continued the walk to your shared apartment. Tom kept his hand lazily draped around you. Back at your apartment, you got Tom situated at the desk in your room. You wondered how long he’d actually study before getting distracted or falling asleep.

“You’ve abandoned us.” Augustine said quietly while you fixed a late dinner for you and Tom. Tom was busy upstairs, and you could even hear his music blasting down the hall.

“Oh come on,” You rolled your eyes at her words. All you wanted to do was focus on your pasta, but she had other ideas.

“Just be careful. He’s untrustworthy.” She stated.

“He’s actually not that bad of a guy.” You countered, making her scoff softly.

“So, you’ve fallen for his charms. It’s no question that you’d rather support Illyria than Cornwall now.”

Your head shot up, looking at her for the first time since you’d gotten in the door. Your eyes narrowed at her, “Don’t forget for a second that this was all because of you and Nick.”

“I didn’t forget that. Did you?”

She left the room without another word, leaving you to be alone in the kitchen. Frustrated, you sighed and turned back to your pasta. You didn’t forget— how could you? How could you forget that the practically perfect soccer player upstairs wasn’t actually your boyfriend? It wasn’t real; it was all fake, and it was ending in almost a hundred days.

“Babe, is dinner ready?” Tom called down to you, momentarily turning off his music.

Okay, there was one thing that was real. You liked Tom, and you had no clue how you’d live with yourself when this came to an end.

“Almost!” You called back. You heard a satisfied clap from your room, making you smile to yourself.

Yeah, you really liked Tom.

~~~

Days until the Tournament Game: 88

“Come on, love, you know you can make this shot.” Tom said in encouragement. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he watched you.

“You’re distracting me, Holland.” You quipped back, keeping your eyes fixed on the final red solo cup sitting on the opposite edge of the table. Two of Tom’s teammates stood on the other side, one crouched down and ready to blow the ball out of the cup. It was an intense moment. They had two cups remaining, set right in front of you, and you and Tom only had one. If you made this, you two would win.

A few more of his teammates and a large number of partygoers surrounded the table, wanting to see if the frat president and his “Bulldog babe” (yeah, you were known on Cornwall’s campus now) could beat the reigning champions in the frat. After almost four weeks of dating, you had found a home with Tom and his frat, and by extension his team too. It definitely helped that you could keep up with them on the field and at parties. Sporting Tom’s jersey, you were nearly unrecognizable as a Bulldog.

You tossed the little white ping pong ball through the air, watching as it soared into the cup so fluidly that his teammates’s attempts to stop it were in vain. As Illyria’s best defenders, it was a good thing they were better at blocking soccer balls.

As everyone cheered around you, you jumped into Tom’s arms happily, your legs locking around his waist as his hands held you up by your butt. He was very publicly copping a feel as you kissed him victoriously, but you didn’t care, too intoxicated and caught up in the moment. As the party moved on around you, you found yourselves in your own world. Tom pulled away, smiling proudly, “You’re the best beer pong partner.”

“You aren’t too bad yourself.” You gave him one final kiss as he set you back down on the ground. “Let’s get a drink.”

Tom intertwined his hand with yours, and he led you through the crowd of people. Strangers shouted praises at him, hyping him up for tomorrow’s game, and you felt a sense of pride overcome you. He wasn’t just the life of the party, he was the party. Tom went to grab out some beers, but froze as he noticed a few others in the far side of the kitchen, enjoying some body shots.

“Wanna do some body shots?” Tom asked, and the smile on your face shifted skeptically as you noticed the already slight glazed look in his eyes.

“You’ve got a big game tomorrow, hot shot. You can’t be hungover.” You teased.

“I’m fine.” He reassured you. You watched as he grabbed the salt shaker and a few wedges of lime before coming back over to you.

“You forgot the tequila.”

“The good tequila is in my room, darling.” Tom laughed, grabbing your hand again. You followed along behind him as he took you past all the other drunks to his secluded room. 

As Tom balanced the salt and limes in one hand and got out his bottle of tequila with the other, his black polaroid camera caught your eye. While he was distracted, you took the liberty to grab it down. You smiled to yourself when you discovered it still had film. 

“Alright. I only have one double shot glass up here, but we shag almost daily, so are we really worried about germs?” Tom said, his voice sounding a bit muffled. When he turned around to face you, he had a slice of lime set between his lips, one hand holding the tequila and shot glass, with the other awkwardly clutching the remaining lime wedges and salt. Without a second thought, you snapped a picture of him.

“Hey, now, what was that for?” He chuckled, taking the lime out of his mouth and blinking his eyes from the harsh light.

“You said you used to love this thing. So why not make some new memories with it?” You smiled as you started to shake the new photograph. You laid back on the bed, waiting for it to develop.

“Off with the shirt, love. We’re doing proper body shots.” Tom smirked, and you blew a kiss at him before removing your jersey.

Feeling his gaze darken over your body, you teased, “Is this the real reason why we came upstairs?”

“You know we’d end up here eventually. And my brothers don’t need to see what is so beautifully mine.” The smirk never left his lips as he made his way over to you. “How’s the picture turning out?” He asked, and you paused mid-shake of the Polaroid picture to examine it. You shrugged; it still needed more time to develop. “Right, while you’re doing that, don’t mind me.”

You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but couldn’t get a word out before he licked a line from the top of your belly button to the underside of your bra and then sprinkled salt along the line; the tiny crystals sticking to your body with just his saliva. He smirked as he poured the tequila shot while you just laid still underneath him, save for your hand shaking the photograph. He settled the shot glass between your breasts and grabbed a lime wedge.

“For me?” You smiled before he slotted the wedge between your lips.

“Gorgeous, love.” Tom grinned proudly as he grabbed the camera from beside you. He quickly snapped a picture, handing the photograph off to you. “I’ve got my hands full.”

He winked at you before he licked the salt line on your abdomen. Then in a fluid motion, he took the shot from between your breasts, and then his lips barely brushed yours as he took the lime wedge from you.

“Delicious.” He sent you a cocky grin as he removed the lime from his mouth.

“Such a tease.” You grumbled, dropping the photographs. Tom took off his shirt and made himself comfortable on the bed, switching positions with you. He took another picture of you as you poured the shot, a look of concentration on your face. With the shot set on his chest, he was careful not to move.

“You are quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever photographed.” Tom said with a dazed smile.

“Am I now?” You questioned. You licked a line for the salt along his happy trail, your fingers running teasingly over his jeans.

“I don’t recall the salt going there.” He laughed lightly.

“Are you complaining?” You asked, pouring salt over the wet line.

“No, no, continue.”

You placed a lime wedge on his lips. As you licked the salt up from his lower abdomen, another flash went off, and you rolled your eyes playfully at him. Next was the tequila, and it burned down your throat before you settled the shot glass back onto his chest. Your lips came to his, seeking the sweet taste of lime, and you triumphantly sucked on the lime.

The fruit was barely out of your mouth before Tom was sitting up and crashing his lips on yours. He tasted of lime and tequila, as expected, and it was overwhelmingly intoxicating. You moaned into the kiss as he shifted you to sit comfortably in his lap, his bare torso pressed against your barely covered chest.

Tom pulled away from you, his forehead resting against yours. Breathlessly, he smiled at you, “You gonna be my good luck charm tomorrow?”

“You ask me that every week.” You giggled because you both knew it was true.

“And?”

“Yes.” You nodded. He went to kiss you again, but you stopped him, “Wait. We should do something.”

“Is this not something?” He asked, unsure of what you meant.

“No,” You laughed and shuffled out of his lap to stand up, “I mean something for the game. A real good luck charm.”

“I don’t know. Mind blowing sex seems to do the trick.” Tom shrugged with a lopsided smile. His gaze followed you curiously as you looked around the room. A smile broke out on your face when you spotted a sharpie on his desk.

“Here.” You grabbed the pen and settled back into his lap. You took his right hand in yours, drawing a little black heart. Kissing it, you smiled, “If you win tomorrow, this will be your good luck charm.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I only date winners.” You replied, your voice dripping in seriousness, and his smile immediately turned into a pout. Your hands cupped his cheek as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m kidding. You’re going to do great, Tiger.”

“You hurt me, Bulldog.” He laughed. “You good for another?” 

As you nodded, Tom shifted to lay you back down on the bed. He sat between your legs and pressed another somewhat sloppy kiss to your lips before he went to work organizing his second tequila shot.

“Coach Hendricks is going to be so mad at you tomorrow.” You said, running a hand through Tom’s hair as he licked along the center of your abdomen once more.

“Eh,” He shrugged, sprinkling the salt on you. “As long as I win, he won’t care.”

You laughed, nodding. It was a true statement. The head coach had a strict “no hangovers on game day” policy, but, as long as the team won, he didn’t really care if Tom was hungover or not. Besides, Tom knew himself. Unless he downed another ten shots in twenty minutes, there was no way he’d be still hungover at 3 o’clock tomorrow afternoon. As for his other teammates, who would get in trouble, win or lose, he couldn’t say.

Tom poured the tequila shot next and set it between your breasts. He cupped them cheekily before leaning in to kiss you again, careful to avoid the shot glass and the salt. You were about to wonder if he’d forgotten about the body shots when his lips were replaced with a lime wedge.

He took longer with the body shot this time, almost as if he was worshipping you as he went. His tongue went trailing over the salt, ravishing in the tiny crystals, before his lips wrapped around the shot glass. As he threw his head back, downing the shot, his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap. You let out a surprised shriek, partially muted by the lime wedge between your lips. Tom’s lips crashed to yours for the millionth time that evening.

He laid on top of you before rolling so that you were on top, his back flat against the bed. Lost in the euphoria of the kiss, you smiled happily. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just Tom being intoxicating, but you couldn’t think of a better moment than this. You’ve never felt closer to someone.

Your sentimental thoughts soon left you as you felt Tom’s fingers start to dance across your hips, tickling you. You laughed into the kiss and tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he just chuckled manically and effectively used one hand and his legs to keep you trapped. His other hand continued his devilish work.

“Stop! Stop!” You squealed, succumbing to your tickle monster of a boyfriend. You were helpless, unable to control your shrieks and giggles.

“Never!” 

BANG!

Faster than you could even process what had happened, Tom’s hands had stopped their assault and grabbed you by the waist, and he rolled the two of you over so he was closest to the door, doing his best to block your half-naked body.

“Harrison, get the fuck out!” Tom shouted, mad that the moment had been interrupted (though you were partially grateful for the reprieve from the tickling). You peered over Tom’s shoulder to see his best friend and vice-captain look over at the two of you with heavily dazed eyes.

“Tom, why are you in my room?” Harrison questioned, his words slurred. As if his eyes and stature didn’t give away that he was very drunk, he was obviously lost. And there was another reason for that. He leaned on the wall, pressed up against a brunette that he had clearly been making out with on the way to his room.

“This is my room, you div. Get out!” Tom just about growled in frustration at his friend.

“Oh,” Harrison looked down at the girl in his arms, “Sorry, love.” He turned to leave, leading her to his room, which was right next door, but not before calling out to you, “Nice tits, Y/N!”

“I’m going to murder him one of these days.” Your boyfriend sighed as he got up to lock the door once the drunken couple had left.

“Always, always have to lock the door.” You teased, “Looks like he’s having a good night, though.”

“Where were we?” Tom asked, stripping out of his jeans and making his way over to you.

“If you think you’re tickling me again, you’re not getting the other half of your good luck charm.” You warned as you took his hand in yours and kissed the black heart.

“I can do with fastforwarding to the mind blowing sex chapter of tonight.” He smirked, his hands moving their way around your back, heading straight to your bra clasp.

~~~

Days until the Tournament Game: 8

The wind rippled through your loose summer clothes as you clung on tight to Tom’s torso— it was a feeling you’d become all too familiar with since meeting him. He maneuvered his motorcycle along the busy streets, making his way down to the beach. The rest of his team would meet you two there, ready for a scrimmage in the sand.

Tomorrow was the last day of the season with the last match between Illyria and Cornwall. According to Nick’s plan, you had one last step to complete before Tom brought the Illyria team crashing down, just in time for the biggest soccer tournament of the year to begin. You weren’t even sure you could do it now— no, you knew you couldn’t do it. No matter what Nick and Augustine said, Tom was still human.

You were in love with him. You couldn’t break his heart just for the sake of a soccer tournament that wasn’t even your own. A part of you wondered if you should tell him, tell him that this was all originally for the stupid tournament game, but then he captured your heart so you couldn’t possibly go through with the original plan.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when he came to a stop in a small, sandy parking space just off the beach. Stepping off the motorcycle, you removed your helmet, and Tom did the same. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he smiled at you, “Ready to win this game?”

“Of course.” You said confidently. Tom wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and you subconsciously lifted your hand to intertwine with his as you two made your way to his team and his other fellow students.

Tom laid out a couple of beach blankets a bit further away from the team’s tent, and you set your bag down on the covered ground. As you stripped off your shirt, revealing your swimsuit, Tom dug out a pen from your bag. He held it out to you expectantly.

“I need my good luck charm.” He stated, and so, just like you did before every game now, you drew a black heart on the back of his hand. You weren’t one to be superstitious, but he was undefeated this season, and you liked to think the heart was working some kind of magic (especially when they won with only ten players last week).

“Do I get one today?” You asked with a smile.

“Not that you need it.” Tom teased, “You know you’re better than half of them.” Still, he took the pen from you to draw a small heart on your own hand. He kissed the back of your palm before putting the pen away.

“As captain, I don’t think you should be saying that.” You laughed, your fingers tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt. 

He got the message, pulling it off as he continued, “It’s because I’m captain that I can say that.”

“Come on, let’s go before they start without us.” You took his hand in yours as you two made your way over to the makeshift field.

The scrimmage was exhilarating, even with the sun bearing down on all of you and sand flying up in the air with almost every kick. You and Tom worked in tandem— with the other three players on your team, and together the two of you scored all four goals of the game. When the round was up, you two exited the field with cheers from Tom’s fellow students.

“Race ya back?” Tom asked you, his elbow brushing yours.

Despite feeling tired from the intense game, you weren’t one to back down, “You’re on.”

And you two took off, running for your spot on the beach. You were ahead of Tom, and you thought you’d secured the fair win until he practically tackled you to the ground and onto the blankets. You let out a shriek as you fell on your back and he landed on top of you, chest to chest.

“I won.” You announced, triumphantly.

“No, no, that was a tie.” Tom insisted as he leaned in closer to you.

“Nuh-uh” You rolled your eyes, unconvinced, but still cupped his cheeks and brought his lips to yours.

As you shifted your legs to give Tom more room between them, he pulled back just enough to mumble into your mouth, “This is a public beach.”

“We’re not doing anything.” You whispered innocently before kissing him again. Slowly, the kiss turned more and more heated, both of you closing your eyes and getting lost in the moment completely.

“Hey, Bulldog, you lost?” Someone shouted from above the two of you. You broke the kiss first, grimacing as you knew exactly who that was.

Tom scoffed, barely even looking at your brother above you, “You’re on Tiger turf, and Y/N here is an honorary Tiger. She cares more about our soccer team than yours anyway.”

“Does she now?” Nick questioned. Tom rolled off of you, so you could sit up to see your brother. With his arm around your waist, Tom didn’t leave your side.

“Nick, what do you want?” You asked, feeling defensive about him being here. This was your time with Tom, and you weren’t about to let your loud mouth brother ruin it.

“Just saying hi. You haven’t been around much lately.” His words were simple, and yet they still sounded like an attempt to irritate Tom. “You’ll be rooting for us tomorrow, right, sis?”

“Does it matter?” Your hand subconsciously made its way to Tom’s, lightly brushing over the little black heart that you’d drawn on it earlier.

“Nick! Come on, we can’t play without you!” Nick’s girlfriend, Monique, came running up to the three of you.

She seemed oblivious to you and Tom as she kissed Nick like her life depended on it. Feeling Tom’s grip tighten on your hip, you glanced at him in concern; he didn’t respond and, instead, just pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder, looking anywhere but at Monique. Monique and Nick finally broke apart. She smiled tensely at you, and her smile shifted almost into a sneer as she looked over at Tom. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at her— you’d always thought of her as a callous person, and you didn’t appreciate her treatment of you or Tom.

“Nick, can I talk to you for a moment?” You asked, getting up from your spot in Tom’s arms. Nick looked at you questioningly before nodding, and you followed him and Monique back to the Cornwall students.

“I have to say, I’m impressed.” Nick said to you as he got himself a beer. “I didn’t think you’d have it in you to make Holland fall for you, but, damn, sis, he’s smitten.”

“I want out.” You stated, making him choke on his beer at your words. “You know that this is wrong. I can’t do that to him— not for the sake of your team.”

“My team? What happened to our team?”

“It was never mine, and I should’ve never taken you up on this deal in the first place. I’m not going to break up with him when the tournament comes around.” You crossed your arms definitively.

“God, you love him.” He laughed in disbelief, “He’s in love with you, and you’ve fallen for him too. Y/N, he’s no good. He’s a player, he doesn’t actually care about you.”

“I don’t love him.” You all but scoffed in response, though your heart hurt at the denial. You grabbed a can of beer from the cooler, trying to distract yourself. “And he’s not in love with me.”

“You know that Polaroid he has?” Monique piped in, stepping up to the two of you, “He once told me he only photographs things he loves. And his motorcycle? No one is allowed on it, no one except for his girl. And then you have his jersey, he doesn’t share clothes with his casual flings, even the long term ones. So, tell me, do you really think he’s not in love with you?” She asked, her voice dripping with cruelty as she grabbed your hand, showing off the black heart.

You yanked your hand out of her grip. And that’s when it all clicked for you.

 In disbelief, you mumbled out, “You’re his ex-girlfriend.”

“And?” She laughed callously.

Turning to Nick, you were now furious, “You’re sick, you know that? Not only using me as a pawn in your twisted rivalry, but fucking his ex and parading her around here? Of all places? And right before the game, too.”

“Tom broke up with me, and no one breaks up with me. I call that vengeance.” Monique stated as if it was obvious, crossing her arms.

“My two best players are down. What was I supposed to do?” Nick asked you.

“Play your own damn game.” You scoffed at him. You looked down at the beer in your hands and you turned back to Monique, taking in her pristine white summer dress. “And you,” You shook the beer can a bit, “You can go fuck yourself.” Opening the beer can, you aimed it at her and let it spray all over her. She let out a shriek as the liquid ruined her dress. 

“Good luck tomorrow, Nick. You’re gonna need it.” You told him, taking a sip of the remaining beer as you walked away back down the beach to Tom. He was in the middle of a spikeball game with his frat brothers. You sat down on your blanket, knowing he’d come back once he was done.

As you looked down at the black heart on your wrist, you couldn’t help but question if you’d made a mistake letting yourself get this far with Tom. Was he really in love with you, or was Monique just saying that to get a rise out of you? 

Tom returned to you a few minutes later, triumphantly smiling about his game. Knowing you were upset, he asked, “Everything okay with Nick?”

Your boyfriend had asked you variants of that question before, always being able to tell when you’re just feeling off, but he’d never asked about you and Nick. If Nick was brought up in the conversation, it was always in a negative light. You’d never seen Tom care about your relationship with your brother.

“He’s just being an ass.” You replied, wanting the conversation to die there. You wanted, more than anything, to tell Tom about your stupid deal with Nick, but you knew that he wouldn’t handle it well— who would though? Who could bear to hear that these past few months started out as a cruel scheme?

Tom let out a small sigh, unsure of what to say. He’s never liked your brother, and your brother’s never liked him, but Tom felt obligated to comfort you. After all, he didn’t like to see his girl upset. Doing his best, he tried to steer the conversation away, “Well, I think the boys want to play another game. Are you in? Or should we go home?”

“We can play.” You reassured him with a nod. You gave him another quick kiss before standing up, ready for a rematch.

“No, no,” Harrison said, holding the soccer ball under one arm as you and Tom walked over to the scrimmage field together. “You two have to split up.”

“What? Me and my girl are too powerful on the same team?” Tom asked. Still, he let go of your hand and made his way to Harrison’s side of the field.

The vice captain shook his head, “We want Y/N.”

The Illyria section of the beach went dead silent. Fellow students and soccer players who hadn’t even cared about the previous conversation all stopped their actions, eyes darting between you and Tom. Tom’s eyes were on Harrison, contemplating if he, as captain, should smack his friend for implying that you were a better player.

You smirked, gladly taking Harrison’s offer. You and Tom had never played soccer against each other— it was about time to figure out who was the better player (or at least, who had the better team today). Holding your hands up, you nodded to Harrison, and he threw the ball over to you.

Tom was stunned as you walked over to him, putting a little more sway in your hips than necessary. You tapped Tom on the chin, “You’ll catch flies.”

He was brought out of his daze as he heard a few cat calls from the onlooking crowd. He leaned in closer to you, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re playing a dangerous game, love.”

“I know.”

Tom leaned in like he was going to kiss you, just to pull away and retreat to his side of the field. You handed Harrison the ball, “He’s so going to increase your practice time this week.”

“Eh, it’s worth it. The boys and I have made bets on who’s the better player between you two.” Harrison shrugged as if it was simple.

“I hope your money’s on me.”

Harrison sent you a cheeky wink before going to meet Tom in the middle of the field for kick off. The game began, and Illyria spectators were flooding in for the casual beach scrimmage.

Tom had the ball first, a trail of sand behind him. He maneuvered his way around Harrison quickly and passed another one of your teammates. You could tell by the look on his face that he was getting cocky, and your feet moved faster than you could think. You basically slide tackled him, effectively passing the ball to Harrison.

“Cheap move.” Tom grumbled, though he wasn’t really annoyed.

You just laughed and re-adjusted your shorts quickly before running to help your team out. Harrison had to be the fastest player on the Illyria team, whether the game was on the actual field or in sand. Lucky for you, the field was short on the beach, and you were quick to catch up. He had two of Tom’s teammates on him, but when he spotted you, he shot the ball towards you. With the ball flying high in the air, you jumped for a header, just for Tom to attempt the same move at the exact same time.

“God, fuck, you’re the worst.” You groaned as your boyfriend landed on top of you. “That was mine!”

“I told you, it’s a dangerous game.” Tom pecked your lips before hopping off you, careful not to kick sand into your eyes.

You couldn’t be mad at him, not really. He was just playing like it was any other dirty scrimmage. Being on his team all of the time meant that you never had to be on the receiving end of his “tricks”. As you got up, Harrison managed to score a goal. Your team shouted happily, and Harrison was quick to pick you up in a victory cheer.

“Hey! None of that.” Tom called out, eyeing the two of you with a jealous frown. Harrison put you down, before running over and picking up Tom. Nothing like a good ol’ bromance ft. rivalry. Disgruntled, Tom said, “I’m not even on your team.”

“I’m sharing the love that we got a goal and you didn’t.” Harrison stated, letting go of his friend before grabbing the ball and heading back to the starting line. Tom huffed as you blew him a kiss, retreating to your side.

The game started back up almost immediately. You and Tom pretty much stayed on each other— in soccer terms. He never let you catch a break when you had the ball, and you never cut him any slack either. He managed to score on you once with a lucky nutmeg, but you were quick to retaliate by scoring a goal, making the score 2-1 with your team in the lead.

“You know, only 5 more minutes left. Don’t you wish you could make another goal?” You asked Tom teasingly, shifting the ball between your feet and passing it to your teammate, just before Tom could kick it away.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re both at 1. Harrison scored that first one.” He stated, cockiness laced in his tone.

“Don’t get technical. My team’s still winning.”

The banter between you two continued while you played the game. Tom managed to steal the ball from you at one instance though, and you let out an annoyed huff. You considered slide tackling him again, but you still had sand god knows where in your swimsuit, so that was an automatic no-go now. You ran ahead of Tom, risking leaving him open for just this once. Confidently, he shot the ball at the goal, but you jumped in the way, taking possession of it.

He was quick to chase after you as you rushed down the field, kicking the ball between your feet. With a clear shot, you kicked the ball, sending it soaring into the net. Tom didn’t have time to process your sudden stop, and, for the second time that game, your boyfriend landed on you.

“Damn,” Tom breathed out, too defeated to even attempt to get up. He just laid there, on top of you, while you laughed and panted, exhausted from the game.

“I won.” You smiled triumphantly. You carded a hand through his messy hair, your fingers ruffling it even more than the wind and the exercise.

“I know. And you only date winners, so I guess—” You cut him off, bringing his lips to yours. You didn’t even mind that a good portion of Illyria’s soccer team and fanbase were around, witnessing the two of you.

“I can make an exception.” You said as you pulled away.

“Oi! If you’re done snogging, we’re going to get some drinks.” Harrison shouted at the two of you as he and some other players took the tents down.

“Alright, alright.” Tom waved off his comment before standing and helping you to your feet.

The two of you cleaned up your own spot, shaking out the sandy towels and dusting each other off. Satisfied, you both slipped your actual clothes back on, and Tom stuffed the towels unceremoniously in your beach tote. After a short ride on Tom’s motorcycle, you two arrived at the familiar bar. Despite its close proximity to Cornwall’s campus (it was just two blocks away), the Iron Tiger stood as a comforting sight with its bright blue sign, accompanied by another sign of a neon tiger.

Tom kept an arm around you as you two walked in the bar, ensuring that everyone in there knew you were his. There might as well have been a cloud of smoke and a spotlight following the two of you as you walked from how everyone seemed to stare. The looks from the Illyria students (and even some young alumni) never failed to make you feel both embarrassed and smug. Tom walked with an air of confidence, taking no notice of how the crowd parted for him.

“What would you like, love?” Tom asked you as you stopped at the bar. He pulled out a barstool for you, and you slid into the offered seat. As he sat down beside you, you ordered from the bartender with a smile.

You two enjoyed your bar snacks (they had the best wings in town) and your drinks, only occasionally brought into a conversation with a passing soccer player or Illyria student. Word had spread fast about Tom’s defeat in the scrimmage, and, while he knew he’d never live that down, he was glad that it was you of all people to beat him. In his mind, there was only one thing better than winning: watching you win. You two had already had a few drinks, buzzing lightly with alcohol, when the bartender came back to ask about another round.

“Two cherry moons, please. With the stem.” You said, making Tom laugh lightly.

“You got it.” The bartender replied, nodding and heading off to make your drinks.

“With the stem?” Tom teased. He had one hand intertwined with yours, while his other hand held up a half eaten wing. “Love, if you forgot what I can do with my tongue, the bathroom’s just back there.”

“I don’t need help remembering.” You shook your head, smiling at him as he finished his chicken wing. “It’s fun. Besides, you might actually win something tonight this way.”

Tom didn’t hate cherry flavored drinks; if anything, being with you, who loved them, made him like them more. You had re-introduced him to the fun of tying cherry stems with your tongue, and now, seeing who could tie a cherry knot the fastest had become a contest between the two of you. Once, you two had tried french kissing and tying a single cherry knot simultaneously, but that led to Tom almost choking on a cherry stem… Needless to say, you didn’t need to try again.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about tomorrow.” Tom started, just in time for the bartender to return. You both thanked him for the drinks.

“I’ll be sitting with the Illyria side, wearing your jersey.” You reassured him. At this point, you had absolutely no desire to support your cruel brother. For all you cared, he could lose tomorrow and the tournament game next week, if it came to that; if his team wasn’t good enough to beat Tom’s, then so be it.

Tom smiled at you, and for a moment, you got lost in those heartwarming, caramel eyes. He turned his attention to the drinks in front of you two and plucked his cherry from the drink. You watched as he downed the sweet fruit instantly, leaving just the stem behind. You did the same, though you savored the sweet maraschino flavor.

“Ready?” You asked, looking at Tom as you both held up your cherry stems.

“Ready.” He nodded. A second later, you both popped your cherry stems into your mouths. Your tongue worked fast, trying to curve the stem just right. You faced Tom the whole time, who was insistent on making over-the-top faces. There was a hint of concentration in his face, his brows creasing the same way they always did around the 80th minute mark of any of his games. You held back your laughter, trying to focus on the task at hand… or in your mouth.

You let out a whine as the stem broke in your mouth. Grabbing a napkin, you spit out the sad symbol of your defeat. You took a sip of your drink, waiting for Tom to finish.

“Any day now.” You teased, and he held up a finger to wordlessly tell you “one more second”. You bit your lip in anticipation.

“Eh? Aye,” Tom stuck out his tongue, proudly showing off the cherry knot resting on top of the wet muscle. His lips turned up in a smile, knowing he won this contest.

“Impressive.” You nodded, and he took the cherry knot out of his mouth. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips always seeking a way back to yours. You felt his tongue trace along your lips through the kiss, but before he could go any further, the two of you were suddenly aware of a silence overcoming the bar.

The crowd was parting, just as they had for you and Tom, but there was no awe in the way the onlookers stared— no, it was only confusion and hatred. The Cornwall Bulldogs soccer team strutted in the door, like they owned the place, like it wasn’t Illyria’s turf. Tom tensed beside you as Nick sauntered over to the two of you, an arm draped around Monique. The rest of his team, or rather his posse, followed him.

Quick to Tom’s side, the Illyria soccer team gathered around. Some players crossed their arms angrily, some sported hardened looks, but they all stood to defend their team and their bar. Even you narrowed your eyes seeing Nick and Monique. It was an unwritten rule for the Bulldogs and Tigers to stay away from each other’s territory, and the Iron Tiger was no exception. Nick knew that— he was here to stir trouble.

A sickening feeling hit you as Nick’s eyes looked at your intertwined hand with Tom’s. He wouldn’t— not here— would he? Doubt and worry overcame you. Your eyes drifted away from your brother and over to Tom, but he wasn’t looking at you. His brown eyes were trained on your brother, and they were stone cold. Would this be the last time he lets you this close to him? Would this be the end?

“You lost?” Tom asked Nick with a scoff.

“Nope.” Nick shook his head, “Just reminding my sister of her place.”

He continued past the bar to an open booth. He kicked his feet up on the table, and Monique cozied into his side. His team, once your closest friends, filled in empty spaces around them.

Tom’s team kept their ground, staying close to their captain. Tom studied Nick for a moment before turning to you. “What’s all that about?”

There was no malice in his voice when he spoke to you; there was never malice in his voice when it came to you. The question broke your heart. The words were caught in your throat. Without even attempting to squeak out a reply, you got up and ran. You bit back the tears as you fled to the bathroom, pushing past the Illyria players in your way. Tom called your name behind you, but you ignored him.

Once in the safety of the bathroom, you locked the door. As you silently cried, Tom repeatedly knocked on the door. “Y/N, please, love, what’s wrong?”

You wanted to tell him, but that would be admitting all of this was because of a scheme. Hell, you’d barely admitted that to yourself the past few weeks. When you didn’t respond, the knocking stopped, leaving you to cry alone in the bathroom. As you sobbed, you were aware of some commotion from outside in the bar, but you didn’t have it in you to care. You needed to cry this out because maybe then, you’d finally be able to tell Tom and hopefully he wouldn’t hate you forever.

After another few minutes of self-pity, your tears dried, and you cleaned yourself up with some paper towels. Your eyes were red and puffy, but your ruffled state just reflected your heartbroken mood. As you unlocked the door and stepped out, you were immediately aware of the emptiness of the bar. Everyone was gone, except for the bartender, who muttered to himself as he cleaned up broken glass. And yet, despite its emptiness, you could still hear a loud commotion coming from somewhere.

“Your friends are outside. Don’t come back.” He stated, not even turning to look at you.

You finally recognized the sounds outside people were shouting— or rather, they were fighting. Anger washed over you; of course, your brother would start a fight. That feeling dissipated immediately, replaced with worry.

Tom would be on the receiving end of Nick’s taunts and violence.

You rushed out of the bar, following the trail of sound. A group of students, Cornwall and Illyria alike, were yelling and cheering, forming a tight circle around the main event in the center. You didn’t think twice about wrestling your way into the crowd (which was oddly triple the amount of people who were in the bar mere minutes ago).

There were about eight soccer players fighting each other, four from each team. You felt sick and heartbroken and angry when your eyes laid on Tom and Nick. They were both sending punch after punch and kick after kick at each other. The other players stopped fighting when they realized you were there, and the crowd fell silent. Tom’s eyes found yours. You thought you saw a flicker of relief in his face, before Nick landed one final punch across Tom’s face.

“Nicholas!” You shouted, fully letting your anger out as you stomped over to him. Tom stood his ground, wincing from the bruises forming on his face and knuckles. Suddenly all fears of Nick outing you as a pawn vanished. Nothing mattered, nothing but making sure Tom was okay.

“Your boyfriend started it, sis. I was just finishing it.” Nick sneered, and, before you could even process your actions, your hand went flying across his face. The sound of the harsh slap seemed to echo off the walls of the full alley. Nick looked at you, surprised.

“Leave me and the rest of Illyria alone.” You snapped.

“Or what?” He scoffed in response. His teammates stepped towards the three of you. You looked back at Tom, who just subtly nodded to his team to stand their ground. Turning back to your brother, you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head to the side, as if thinking of a good threat. “There’s nothing—”

Nick’s words were lost in his throat. Only the harsh sound of your palm striking across his face echoed in the alley. “Next time, I’ll go for your kneecaps. I’m sure your soccer scholarship will count for something when you’re in a wheelchair.” He didn’t reply, and his posse was quick to help him scurry away. 

“Y/N,” Tom started from behind you, and you were quick to turn back to face him, throwing your arms around him and holding him tightly. He seemed to melt into your arms, content despite his current bruised state.

“I’m sorry, he’s such a dick.” You mumbled, feeling ashamed of your own brother. The crowd started to diminish with no more fighting to see. Some of the Illyria players stuck around, but most left with the student onlookers.

“It was my fault—” You cut Tom off with a soft, chaste kiss as your hands delicately cupped his face, careful of the bruises and scrapes.

“Let’s go home.” You told him reassuringly. He took one of your hands in his and pressed a kiss to your palm. Smiling softly, he nodded and intertwined your fingers.

It was silent between the two of you until Tom finished his shower later that night. While he was out of the room, you took a few moments to appreciate the eclectic collection of polaroid pictures scattered on the wall beside his bed. There were a couple pictures from when you two first used the camera, doing body shots together. And then, there were pictures of you two eating tacos on the roof of the taqueria, you in Tom’s arms as you watched the sunset at the beach, you kicking a soccer ball towards the camera (which may or not have hit Tom in the shoulder, but, hey, at least you missed his face and the camera), both of you dressed up as Spider-Man and MJ for a themed frat party, a selfie of you two wearing matching onesies while watching Ted Lasso, and shirtless Tom making you pancakes at three in the morning. There were also a couple attempted selfies of the two of you, but one ended up being just a boob shot of you and the other ended up a blurry mess of your faces. Nonetheless, they were all pictures of the happiest moments of your life over the past few weeks. 

You were waiting on Tom’s bed, in nothing but your underwear and one of his big t-shirts when he came in, sweatpants hanging low. He let out a sigh as he fell in bed beside you.

“Coach won’t be happy.” He muttered, wrapping an arm around you.

“Do you think he’ll believe you if you say you ran into a wall?” You teased quietly, your fingers brushing over the prominent bruise on his eyebrow. It already had that little cut, but now it was taken over by a bruise. It wouldn’t be completely noticeable, not while he was down on the field, but up close, you could see it clearly.

“He might.” Tom laughed lightly, which quickly turned into a yawn. “Damn, I’m so tired.”

“No mind blowing sex tonight, then?” You joked, “After tonight, you have to win tomorrow.”

“You’re my good luck charm, not the sex. Though, it’s a nice bonus.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss you softly. There was no rush in his kiss, no desperate heat in his lips; just a tender type of softness, as if he was trying to wordlessly tell you those three little words you’d been aching to tell him.

But then, you remembered what you should tell him. Even if it ruined the moment—

“I love you.” The words fell quietly from your lips before you could stop yourself. That hadn’t quite been what you should say, but that was what your heart was yelling. Your eyes were still closed from the kiss, and you didn’t want to open them as you were met with silence.

“Open your eyes.” Tom told you, his voice just above a whisper. Hesitantly, your eyes opened and were met by his warm, brown ones. He smiled at you, “I love you, too.”

You didn’t have to question if he meant it, if he felt pressured by your confession, because you knew— you knew in your heart that he loved you, too. With a new found surge of weightlessness, your lips found his again.

In his arms, you were home.

~~~

“I think they’re scared of you.” Tom mumbled to you, a tone of amusement in his voice.

You shrugged, holding the bag of ice to his bruised knuckles. “I don’t know why it took them so long. I’m terrifying.”

“Frightening on the field.” He agreed.

The locker room was filled with buzz, just half an hour before the warm up would start for the game. Today was the second biggest day of the season— the second match against Cornwall. You already knew the stands would be buzzing with a full crowd. News of last night’s little fight got out, and that seemed to spur even more spectators for today’s match. Apparently, the two rival teams fighting the day before a game was good advertisement.

You were only slightly embarrassed by your heated actions last night, but Nick deserved it. Your time with Tom was limited now. You knew your brother, and you knew he wouldn’t just drop it, not when you humiliated him last night. Since he didn’t already tell Tom, you could only wait for when he’d spring the surprise on your boyfriend.

All concern over Nick left you as you looked at Tom across from you. Sitting on a crappy locker room bench in his Illyria jersey with a couple bruises on his face and slightly purple knuckles— he simply reminded you of how much you loved him. He looked at you with a dopey grin, the same sort of look when he was about to say something stupid just to humor you.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Nothing. I just really love you.” He said, making you laugh lightly.

“Oh, we’re one of those couples now?” You teased, and he frowned in faux offense.

“We’ve always been one of those couples.” Tom defended himself. He leaned in to kiss you, but you blocked his lips by putting the ice on his face. He let out a frustrated huff, but didn’t shy away from the cold.

“It was time to switch.” You stated, innocently.

“Uh-huh.” He replied, unconvinced. His voice was slightly muffled by the ice covering most of his face.

“If you hadn’t taken on my brother, you wouldn’t be in this position.” You joked. One of his hands reached blindly for your free hand, taking it in his.

“You know why I did it though?” He asked, quietly.

“He’s an asshole?” You suggested. Tom chuckled.

“No.” He answered, “You were upset, and I thought maybe he’d been a part of the reason why.” He paused, “I was the one who walked over to him, looking for a fight. I decked him in the middle of the bar.”

You were quiet for a moment, processing his words. Tom fought for you, even though he had no clue why. Your heart fluttered— that was how much he cared about you. “What did Nick say?”

“He was just trying to get a rise out of me, which worked clearly. He was saying some shit about knowing something I didn’t know. Do you know what he was talking about?”

“No, I don’t.” You shook your head, even though you were obstructed from his view.

“You’d tell me if you did know, right?” He asked, not out of doubt, but out of reassurance.

“Of course.”

A whistle rang out through the locker room, and the players began to gather together. It was time to go. You took the ice from Tom, and he pulled you in for a “good luck” kiss.

“I love you.” He repeated, just for the sake of saying it.

You pressed a kiss to the black heart drawn on the back of his hand. “I love you, too. Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

Tom sent you a wink before he left with the rest of his team towards the field. You put away the ice and made your way to the stands, knowing Harry would be waiting for you at the very front of the student section. Front row seats to the game was a benefit of being the captain’s girlfriend.

“Half of the players have bruises.” Harry snickered to you when you stood beside him at your seats. The players were getting into position, ready to begin the match.

“Only slightly my fault.” You replied with a playful smile, though you felt a twinge of guilt about the statement. 

The game started soon after you sat down. Tom had the ball first, and he went speeding down the field. He passed it back to one of his open teammates, right between the legs of a Cornwall player. Despite most of the players sporting some type of bruise or cut to their hands or faces, they were all energized, as if last night’s fight hyped them up for this very moment. Tom was across the field from you, but you could tell that he was already seeing red, ready to spill (metaphorical, hopefully) blood.

In the first 40 minutes, no one scored, but the refs were calling all sorts of fouls… against Illyria. Frustration from the players and the supporters grew as, at the 44th minute, Cornwall got a penalty kick. The air was tense in the stadium as everyone watched the forward prepare to kick the ball. As he kicked it into the air, two players, one from each team, went in for the header. Billy, the Illyria player, headed the ball, but, with the other opposing player pushing against him, the angle was wrong.

The Illyria side of the stadium went silent as the ball went soaring into the net. An own goal on a penalty kick— anger, shame, pity all surged through the tiger fans as the Bulldogs cheered happily.

“For fuck’s sake.” Harry grumbled beside you.

“It’s okay. We have another half.” You said quietly. Your voice was tight, as was the rest of your body. With your eyes trained on Tom, you watched as he kicked the ground in frustration. He didn’t say anything to Billy, though his surrounding teammates definitely did. Tom shook his head and looked up to you in the crowd.

“You got this.” You mouthed to him, and he smiled, though you weren’t even sure if he understood you. He got the encouraging memo though, and that’s what mattered.

“Oh, that’s not good.” Harry muttered, nodding toward the middle of the field.

As Tom and his fellow teammates made their way off the field for half-time, Nick was sauntering towards Tom. You couldn’t tell what he said, but it was enough to get your boyfriend’s attention. You watched with bated breath, hoping another fight wouldn’t break out… and that Nick would be quiet for the remainder of the game. Tom didn’t say anything, and Nick snickered at whatever he had said, thinking he was the funniest person on earth.

Then you heard the whistle. Both Nick and Tom looked over to the ref in question, who pulled out a yellow card. You let out a cheer as the ref carded Nick, who looked taken back by the action.

“Unsportsmanlike behavior.” You laughed in disbelief.

“No way.” Harry muttered, but the crowd around you broke out in cheer about Nick’s yellow. Even though it was half time, he was still given the warning. Tom tried to bite back his cocky grin as he walked off the field after his teammates.

You and Harry chatted during the break, making predictions about the game as you tried to settle your nerves. Tom and the other players made their way back onto the field as half time ended. Eyes fixated on your boyfriend, you leaned against the fence railing as the game began again.

Though it took a while for a goal to occur in the first half, Harrison managed to score within the first two minutes of the second. You and the rest of the Illyria side of the field cheered happily. The score was tied now. All the Tigers had to do was score another goal and keep possession of the ball— easy, right?

The game continued on, getting more and more aggressive as the clock ticked on. Tom got a yellow for an attempted slide tackle, an Illyria player got a red card for cleating an opposing player, a Cornwall player elbowed an Illyria player in the neck (yet somehow managed to not get a card), and two players head butted each other while going in for a header, as if all the players weren’t beaten up enough.

“C’mon, Tom,” You mumbled under your breath as he got the ball. Your eyes flickered to the clock that read 12:38. Twelve minutes left for them to score at least one more goal.

You watched Tom run down the field towards the Cornwall goal, towards Nick. Harrison appeared open on the far side of the field, and Tom kicked it to his teammate. He came to a stop just outside of the goalie box, ready to strike if needed. Harrison shot the ball at the goal, but Nick blocked it with his arm. The ball ricocheted to Tom. He shuffled around, getting ready to shoot it, but, before he could, Nick came running at him.

Nick rammed into Tom hard enough to knock him to the ground, and he picked up the ball, just to kick it as far from the goal as possible. The ball was still in the air as the ref’s whistle rang out.

“Is he getting a red-“ Harry started, but his voice was drowned out by cheers as the ref pulled out a red card. You were shocked. Nick had gotten plenty of yellow cards, but never any reds.

“Shit just got real.” You said in disbelief. Tom lined up for the penalty kick, and you crossed your fingers, hoping his record wouldn’t let him down.

Cheers erupted once more as Tom kicked the ball straight into the goal, as if the other players weren’t even there. You yelled so loudly, your voice felt like it would break, but you didn’t care. That was your boyfriend out there, and he was kicking ass on the field.

Fifteen minutes later (including overtime), Illyria won, 2-1. You practically elbowed students out of the way as you squeezed your way through the buzzing crowd to the familiar locker room. Harry left to find the rest of his family, leaving you alone to see your soccer star. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for Tom to exit the exclusive locker room.

The second he stepped out of the room in fresh clothes, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight. “I’m so proud of you. This whole season— undefeated.”

“Well, my girlfriend only dates winners, so…” Tom trailed off, before kissing you. Just as he went to pull away, your hand caught the back of his neck and you continued to kiss him some more. He didn’t oppose, content with his reward for a good game.

“Congrats on your victory, captain.” You told him when you finally separated. Your hand slipped into his, your fingers intertwining, as you made your way to the exit.

“It’s nothing. Just another game.” He replied, smugly, before teasingly adding, “Your team’s really gone to shit.”

“Well, they’ve got a shit captain. And besides, they’re not my team. I’m your Bulldog babe, but we both know I’m a Tiger at heart now.”

“Very true.” Tom hummed in satisfaction. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you got to his motorcycle. “What do you say about getting tacos and then beating Harrison at beer pong?”

“I say that’s our post-game ritual.” You teased, and he started up the motorcycle before taking off for the Taqueria.

~~~

“Ah, fuck you!” You shouted as Harrison placed the tall stack of red cups in front of you. You hurried to try to get the white ping pong ball in the cups, stressed by the tense ending of rage cage. Tom was to your left, trying his best as well to land his ping pong ball in his stack of cups.

“I’m going to get you, babe.” You chuckled, and the crowd cheered incoherently around you. If you landed your ball in your stack before Tom did, then you’d win and he’d be forced to chug the bitch cup. You didn’t know what was in it besides pure alcohol, and you didn’t want to find out.

“Not going to happen.” Tom replied, keeping his focus on the task. It was hard enough being tipsy, but even harder now that the cups were stacked so high; and, Tom was just a tad bit drunker than you. You squealed in excitement as your ball landed perfectly in your stack.

“No, no, no!” Your boyfriend groaned as you slammed your stack of red solo cups on his, effectively ending the game.

“Love you.” You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Tom wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him, as he chugged the rest of the beer in front of him.

The crowd around the table began chanting, “Chug!” at Tom when his fingers wrapped around the bitch cup. You joined in, much to Tom’s dismay. In a blink, he chugged down the mystery drink.

As everyone clapped around you, Tom pulled you in for a steamy kiss. His tongue slipped between your lips, and he held you tighter against him. You didn’t need to ask what was in the bitch cup— you could distinctly taste the tequila, beer, and even rum that tainted his tongue.

“Oi, move along, lovers. We wanna keep playing.” Harrison said, smacking Tom’s shoulder to pull the two of you out of your drunken and lovelust haze.

While Harrison led the others in setting up a new round of the favored drinking game, Tom’s hand held yours as you two made your way back into the house.

“Ooh, I love this song.” You stopped abruptly on the outskirts of the makeshift dance floor in the wide living room. Tom pouted, wanting to make an undisturbed beeline for his room. “Let’s stay down here for this song.”

“Just this one.” Tom mumbled, shifting behind you to dance with you. He kept one hand firmly on your hip as you drunkenly swayed to the upbeat music and sang along to whatever words you actually knew. Tom dropped his head to your neck, his lips immediately finding your sweet spot. As he pulled you closer into his body, you let your hips grind back against him.

“Someone’s impatient.” You tutted, turning around in his arms.

“Can you blame me?” He asked with a mischievous smile. Before you could react, he maneuvered you into a corner, pushing you up against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours momentarily as the music cut out throughout the house.

Confused, Tom pulled away and looked around for the source of the change. 

“Hello! Can you all hear me?” A chill ran down your spine. Nick was here, and he was standing on the table, as if there was some big announcement to make. A lump grew in your throat.

“Right. Before the Illyria team wrestles me off the table, I have to say a few words about Tom Holland’s own girlfriend and my sister, Y/N.” Nick continued.

“What is this about?” Tom whispered to you, but you couldn’t reply. Tears welled up in your eyes as Nick looked over at the two of you, a wicked grin on his face.

“So, Holland, remember last year? When I fucked your girlfriend and she left you for me? And then you were shit at soccer?” Your brother taunted, and Tom tensed beside you. You held his hand tighter, afraid of letting him go. “Well, you see, Cornwall was about to have a shit year at soccer. And I needed someone to break Holland the same way Monique and I broke him last year.”

“Y/N, what is he talking about?” Tom asked, stepping slightly away from you. You met his eyes, only to wordlessly shake your head and cry harder.

“And the Oscar goes to… Y/N for her outstanding performance as Holland’s loved-up Bulldog Babe.”

The room filled with whispers, everyone trying to decipher if there was any truth in Nick’s words. Your eyes remained on Tom, though it broke your heart to see him looking at you so coldly.

“Is it true?”

“Tom, I-“ You started, but he cut you off.

“Is it true?” He repeated.

“Yes.” You said quietly. You had so much more that you wanted to say, but the words died in your throat.

“Leave.” Tom stated, dropping your hand and backing away from you. He raised his voice, but still remained seemingly emotionless, “Both of you, leave now.”

Nick triumphantly hopped off the table and strutted out the door. With your head hung low, you followed him. You looked back one last time at Tom, just to find that he was gone from his spot by the stairs. You left the frat house without another word.

“I’ll drive you home.” Nick said, coming up to you on the sidewalk, his car keys in his hand.

“Fuck you, Nick. I don’t want anything to do with you. You just ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You shoved him away from you and started walking down the dark, cold street.

“So what? You’re just going to walk home?” He called after you. When you didn’t respond, he turned and got into his car. He drove off without another word as you continued your walk.

You knew your house at least 15 miles away, but you were too heartbroken to care. You couldn’t call Tom or Harrison or Harry to come get you; you couldn’t call Augustine either. It seemed that everyone either hated you or you hated them right now. With tears in your eyes, you clung tightly to yourself. A car came to a stop beside you, and your whole body tensed up.

“Hey, let me give you a ride.” You turned around at the sound of Harry’s voice. He smiled softly at you, and you wiped away a few tears before climbing in the passenger seat of his car.

“I thought you’d all hate me now.” You mumbled quietly.

“Not all of us.” He replied. “I’ve seen how you look at my brother. Set up or not, you really do love him. I can sit here and tell you how much you fucked up, but I have a feeling you already know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be walking down the streets alone right now— you’d be living it up with your brother, happy that your plan worked.”

You fell silent at his words, unsure of what to say. Quietly, you corrected him, “It wasn’t my plan.”

“Whose was it?”

“It was all Nick’s. He wanted me to use Tom. The only reason he thought of it was because two of our best players got injured and I had just officially met Tom that day and we really hit it off. I would’ve gone out with Tom, no matter the circumstances of Cornwall’s team.” You paused, your voice breaking as the tears returned. “You’re right, though. I truly love Tom, but I don’t think we’ll get a second chance.”

“Give Tom time. He’ll come around and listen to you. You shot him in the heart.” Harry said insightfully. He chuckled softly, “I don’t actually know where you live. Last time, I just dropped you off at Cornwall’s main entrance.”

“I’ll give you directions.” A smile ghosted your lips. Though you didn’t feel at all deserving of Harry’s kindness, you certainly appreciated it.

~~~

Days until the championship game: 0

It had been over a week since the last Illyria and Cornwall match, a week since Tom pushed you out of his life. You’d tried calling him, only to be met with his voicemail. With each “you’ve reached the voicemail of Tom Holland”, you felt your heart break impossibly more.

The tournament game was starting in a little less than an hour, and, in your blue jersey, you felt like an outsider. The jersey, complete with “Holland” written on the back, didn’t feel right anymore, but you’d much rather support Tom than Nick. With one final lookover in the mirror, you left your apartment.

Even in a stadium full of people, you’d never felt more alone. You didn’t belong to either team, though the jersey you were sporting said otherwise. The Illyria soccer fanatics all knew about Nick’s twisted scheme, so you were once again ostracized from that group. The Cornwall fans, on the other hand, could care less. You found yourself nestled in the front row, between the home and the away portion of Cornwall’s stands. It felt strange to be on the end of the field, not right behind a team, deep in the action.

That odd feeling left you when all the players made their way onto the pitch. Your eyes were fixated on Tom, who looked just as broken as last weekend. Your heart panged as you watched him look up at the Illyria stands and then the Cornwall stands. A part of you wondered if he was looking for you.

You didn’t have to wonder much longer as his eyes scanned over to your section of the crowd. His brown eyes met yours, and, after a moment, he looked away, his eyebrows creasing and his facial features hardening.

The game began shortly thereafter. Harrison had the ball first and maneuvered it swiftly down the field. Normally, Tom would be the one to grab the ball right away, but he seemed five steps behind everyone else on the field.

Nick’s plan had worked. Tom was lost out there on the field.

By half time, Cornwall was winning by 2 while Illyria sat with no goals. Tom had missed both penalty kicks of the game so far. It was painful to watch.

When the second half started up, the teams switched sides and you were now sat right behind the Cornwall goal. Tom booked it down the field with the ball, just to get slide tackled by an opposing player. The ref let him have another penalty kick. Your breath caught in your throat as Tom lined the ball up and his eyes drifted to the stands.

He turned quickly to the ref, holding up a “T” with his hands as he called something indistinct out. The ref nodded, blowing his whistle “Time out for Illyria.”

The ref had barely finished his call when Tom ran over to your section of the stands. He climbed on the fence just enough to reach you in the raised audience section.

“I need my good luck charm.” Tom said, his eyes soft as he looked at you. You were speechless, heart beating faster than you could process. You nodded and hurried to grab a pen from your bag. Tom held out his hand and you drew your signature heart on the back of it.

“Harry told me. Meet me after the game?” He asked, leaning up to press a quick kiss to your cheek. He hopped off the fence before you could react.

A hopeful smile crossed your face, “Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

Tom sported a new found smile as he triumphantly returned to the pitch. The ref blew his whistle, signalling the end of the time out, and the players all gathered into their positions. Tom looked from the white soccer ball up to you in the stands and sent you a wink. With a swift kick, the ball went soaring into the left side of the net as Nick dove for the opposite side. His teammates tackled him in excited and lively hugs. Illyria was still losing, but hope had reinvigorated the team.

The cheers for Tom’s goal were deafening, but he only seemed to care about you. He held up his hand, tapping the back of it, as if to say “It worked”. You cheered proudly. Your smile never left your face, even as a few happy tears trickled down your cheeks.

As the game continued on, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, signalling a phone call. You picked it up immediately when you saw it was Harry.

“Are you lost, Bulldog? I have an empty seat next to me.” He said, and your eyes drifted over to the familiar Illyria fan section of the stands. Waving across the stadium in his blue beanie, Harry smiled at you.

“I’m on my way.” You told him. Hanging up and shuffling out of your spot. You hurried through the concrete stadium’s halls, not wanting to miss anything as you switched spots.

Loud cheers erupted through the stadium as you finally got to Harry’s section. You didn’t need to see to know you’d missed a goal, and, judging by the sounds from Illyria’s side, it was an Illyria goal, too.

“Harrison scored!” Harry announced proudly as you elbowed your way through the crowd to be beside him. You joined in on the cheering, eyes drifting over the field to Tom. He frowned, looking over to where you were before his eyes scanned over to where you now were. His signature smile was back on his face.

“Thank you, Harry.” You said, hugging him as the hype for the goal died down.

“You make him happy.” He stated. “Plus, We can’t let Nick win. Not again.” 

“Not again.” You laughed lightly and turned back to the game.

Not even five minutes later, Tom scored another goal for his team, bringing Illyria into the lead. With a fourth goal at the eightieth minute, it was safe to say that Illyria was dominating the second half.

“I guess your good luck charm actually works.” Harry teased, impressed by Illyria’s sudden momentum.

“Of course it works. We’re undefeated right now.” You smiled at him.

He went to respond, but the words died in his throat as the crowd around you began booing loudly. Your eyes darted away from Harry and to Tom on the field.

Tom was down. Clutching his ankle, he looked to be in real pain. The refs paused the game, and commotion circled around Tom for a few minutes.

“What did he do?” Harry asked you quietly.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. Neither of you had seen whatever caused his injury.

After a minute of discussion, Tom hobbled off the field with the help of a few teammates and the coach subbed someone else in. You didn’t even process your actions before you were shoving your way back through the crowd. You made a beeline for the all too familiar corridor, leading straight to Illyria’s locker rooms.

“You can’t go in there.” The security guard stopped you from reaching the door.

“I have to see Tom.” You insisted.

“You’ll have to wait until the game’s over.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m his—” you paused. Were you his girlfriend? His friend? You weren’t sure where you stood now.

“Girlfriend, hopefully.” Harrison said, opening the locker room door. “She can come in.”

“Thank you.” You breathed out in relief, happy to get past the security guard.

As you stepped into the room, you fell silent. Tom was on one of the red benches, talking to a medic as another one prodded his ankle. Tom wasn’t aware of your presence yet. Harrison stood beside you and mumbled to you, “Think he’s sprained it. He rolled it pretty bad out there.”

“What happened?” You whispered, not wanting to interrupt Tom’s discussion.

“He just slipped. It happens.” Harrison shrugged. “He’ll be okay.”

You waited in silence as the two medics finished up their check on Tom before leaving. When Tom turned to finally face you from his spot on the old bench, Harrison cleared his throat. The blond made his way towards the field, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

For a moment, you just stayed there, standing across the room from Tom, unsure of what to do. Nine days ago, you would’ve run to him and peppered him with kisses, telling him how proud of him you are. Even with the little black heart on his hand now, you didn’t know where you stood.

“I won’t bite,” Tom said, cracking a smile at you as he adjusted the ice on his ankle, “Unless you want me to, of course.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. There was the old cheeky Tom, always making some sort of comment to get a reaction out of you. As you stepped towards him, you replied, “I seem to remember you having the biting kink, not me.”

“You never complained.” He winked as you sat down beside him on the bench.

“What exactly did Harry tell you?” You asked, quietly.

“He said it was all Nick and that you wanted to go out with me even before he stepped in.” Tom explained, “Why didn’t you just tell me before?”

“I didn’t want you to leave me.” You confessed, looking down at your hands in your lap. “I really, truly love you, Tom, and I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything. I was just so scared. I didn’t want to lose you, and I’m terrified that I have now.”

Tom was silent for a moment. He slipped one of his hands into yours. It was cold at the touch from the ice he’d been holding, but you welcomed the small embrace. “You haven’t lost me. I love you, too.”

Your eyes found his, and your heart fluttered at his words. It was everything you needed to hear.

Cheekily, he added, “I’m glad the surfboard and motorcycle worked. I was afraid I’d have to get some puppies or something.”

“Are you thinking of how to pick up more girls right now?” You asked, your eyes playfully narrowing at him.

“No,” He laughed, his hands coming up to softly cup your face, “I’ve got all I need right here.”

“You gonna kiss me, Tiger?”

“You bet, Bulldog.”

As Tom’s lips found yours, the stadium erupted in loud cheers with the announcer proclaiming “the Illyria Tigers have won the game!”. You expected Tom to pull away, to celebrate his team’s grand victory, but, instead, he just kissed you harder, not wanting to let you go. And you didn’t want to let him go either.

[gryffindors-weasley]

For The Very First Time

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius Black just might be more sentimental than you think when he takes you on a trip down memory lane.

Prompt used: “Sorry how do you spell that?”

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: mild angst, smoking, fluff, kissing

A/N: This is for @sweeterthansammy ’s 1k writing challenge! I hope you enjoy. Flash backs are italicized, and the prompt I used is bolded!

The weather was a little bit chillier now that the sun was dipping down in the sky, chilly enough for a sweater or a light jacket. Something you didn’t have much time to think about with the spontaneity of Sirius’ plans and just how urgent he’d been making them out to be. Really, there was no rush and he knew that, of course he knew that, but he was far too eager for his own good and you knew that.

You were certain he’d under dressed when you found him standing by the front door, leaning against the frame in that tattered old jean jacket. The one there’s no chance in him getting rid of, not in a million years. It’s got a myriad of holes here and there in the faded, washed out denim, the cuffs having seen better days as the frayed material dangles down half torn. A miscellaneous pin from James is still on there, even that bright yellow smiley face is stuck on the collar that you’d put there ages ago. It was more than a well worn article of clothing, that much was for sure.

You managed to break away from James and Lily’s conversation, more so Lily, and any other time you wouldn’t have minded a single bit. You absolutely wouldn’t have, but with Sirius calling you from the floor below in the small Potter home, you find yourself having no choice but to give in to saving the conversation for later in favor of quieting the raven haired wizard.

You walk down the stairs until equally tattered converse come into view, then those same old black denim jeans, the those frayed jean jacket cuffs. You smell the distinct smell, something that’d only further been confirmed as you reach the very last step.

“Either I’m a fool, or time just stopped,” he says, flicking the ashes from his cigarette as he smiled down at you.

The corner of your mouth quirks up, the kind of smile he knows isn’t a hundred percent sweet.

“I think you’re just a fool, Pads,” you say, that smile widening a fraction. There it is. He walked right into that one and he knew it, rolling his eyes. “And I don’t think Mr. Potter would approve of you smoking in his beloved family home.”

“Which is exactly why I’m standing outside,” he grins before bringing the cigarette back to his lips, throwing his hands up as he takes one step backwards through the threshold of the doorway just so he can officially say that he is in fact outside and not at all breaking the rules of the residence.

Sirius Black liked to bend the rules when he could, he liked to walk on the wild side just about every chance he got no matter how trivial it may be. He claims it’s the only way to be, claims that’s what having fun is all about and anything less is boring. Nonchalance is simply in his nature.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” you counter, hopping off the very last step when he tugged on your hand to urge you out the door.

He pulled the door shut behind him and stopped you in your tracks, making you turn on your heel before you could take another step forward. You look up at him with a narrowed gaze and await an explanation as to just why it is he’s gone and stopped you when all he’s done the past ten minutes is tell you how desperately he’d wanted to go. So you stand and your stare and you watch as smoke blows past parted lips, lips that quirk upwards in a smile as he looks at you.

In that moment, he dips down, pressing his lips on yours in a kiss that’s as smoky as ever and the gesture alone has your smile pressing into his kiss. A smile that’s genuine just as much as it’s teasing.

“I thought we had somewhere to be?” You say, breaking away as you look up at him with a raised brow.

“We do,” he says, taking another puff before you snag the cigarette right from between his fingers, dropping it to the little stone walkway before putting it out beneath your boot.

You take notice of his pursed lips that fight a smile, at the squinted gaze he’s got set on you as you spin on your heel and walk ahead, leaving him to stand there and stare after you for a fleeting moment or two. You’ve got all the amusement in the world sitting on your expression and he doesn’t even need to see it to know it, he can tell just by simply hearing the laugh fall from your lips. He can see it as he catches up to you within a second’s time.

“How very rude of you,” he says in faux offense, but it’s not too long before you feel the tips of his fingers brushing against yours.

“How very generous of me,” you counter, and his scoff doesn’t go unheard.

The next time you look up at him, he’s got those sunshine yellow shades on, those obnoxiously yellow sunglasses that sit on his nose seemingly more often than not. James had gotten them for him at the town fair just a few years back, a gift just for laughs that he’d gotten with the rest of his tickets. They were bright and they were bold and very much fitting for the year nineteen-eighty-one, but he’d gone and kept them. Of course he did.

Sirius Black kept every single thing his friends have ever given him no matter how ridiculous or trivial it may have seemed. Even when he was just a child still stuck in his dreaded family home, he’d saved a shoe box from a pair of dress shoes he absolutely hated wearing, one pair of dozens that inevitably got scuffed up just a little too much for the liking of his parents before they’d gone and bought him a new pair to look more presentable for the family image. Aside from that, he’d kept a shoe box, one that he had tucked under his bed.

Inside were all the letters that James and Remus had sent him by owl over summer break, each and every letter even if it was simply James complaining about some nonsensical thing or a joke or if it was Remus writing to see if he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter yet. He kept all of them. He kept the four leaf clover James had stumbled upon, and he kept that special quill Remus had swiped from Snape. He never knew his best friend had a knack for being mischievous until that moment.

He’d read those letters on his best nights and his worst, read them just for so. They were tattered and worn at the creases where they were folded, but he didn’t plan on getting rid of them any time soon.

Over the years that sentimental collection grew and grew, adding to it a myriad of pressed flowers and leaves from Lily, and bookmarks from Remus, postcards from James that were the absolute most ridiculous he could find. You added to it with miscellaneous letters and a guitar pick you thought he might like. He never used it, he didn’t want to ruin it. He kept that feather boa you’d found and even that lucky coin. He kept it all.

Sirius Black was more sentimental than he let on, he’s got a softer heart than he showcased to most, he kept every one of those things no matter how stupid or trivial it may seem to someone else. But he’d never in a million years admit it. James had found it once, but he never said a word about it.

“You never did tell me where we’re going,” you say, kicking a pebble out of your way as you walked along the cracked sidewalk.

“I believe that’s the point of a surprise, love,” he says, and you catch his smile as you look up at him, lips pursed as you nudge him with your elbow.

“You’re terrible at surprises,” you tease, your smile in your voice and had he not been wearing those sunglasses at sunset, you’d have been able to see his eye roll. But you knew him well enough to know he’d gone and done it regardless of the visual confirmation.

“Have I ever told you you’re a pain?” He asked, his chuckle following his words as he grins ahead, glancing down at you briefly.

“Yes, and I take that as a compliment,” you say, hearing his continued laughter as he shakes his head.

You try and put the pieces together, try and pick up any hints to put together any form of information that just might lead you in the direction of where you could possibly be going. It was in town, that you knew for certain. It was somewhere, local otherwise he’d have taken Mr. Potter’s car. The attire was no use in a giveaway because there was not a single chance there’d be an occasion where you’d find Sirius taking you somewhere in which you’d need to dress to the nines. The days of pristine suits and freshly polished shoes were far behind him, he hated dressing up with everything that he had.

He didn’t even dress up above and beyond for James and Lily’s wedding; well, he did, but he dressed down his suit with a half loosened tie that wound up being a headband and that tattered pair of converse. And he even wore those same old yellow sunglasses.

It was early evening, and things don’t tend to stay open for that much longer, so that narrows things down just a little bit more. Makes things just a little bit clearer, but it all proved to be not as helpful as you’d like it to be.

The small town was dotted with street lamps casting the area in a warm glow as it began to get darker and darker outside. The surrounding trees held reddening leaves that dropped and fluttered to the ground when the breeze sifted through them. And it’s only then that it hits you, the smell of coffee and spice that wafts through the air the closer you get. The sweetened air the closer you got. You even heard that familiar little clang of the bell over the door.

It wasn’t until then that you’d realized that maybe this was his surprise, that it absolutely was judging by the way he’d been biting the inside of his cheek to stifle his grin.

“Sirius Black, is this what I think it is?” You ask, your brow raised as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards.

Your question is answered when that smile breaks through, when you do indeed stop in front of the door to that ever familiar coffee shop and he holds the door open for you to step inside. It’s noticeably warmer than the chilly weather outside, cozier than ever as the smell of coffee washes over you. It looked just the same as when you were here last, felt just as inviting as it always did.

There were a few carved pumpkins sitting outside the door, an assortment of fall decorations littering inside the small shop. Each of the little wooden tables have cozy orange table cloths, and string lights are hung. The entirety of the shop smelled like fall festive drinks and what was left of the pumpkin rolls and muffins, not to mention the sweeter than sweet scented candles that were lit.

He tugged on your hand as he stepped up to the counter.

“Can I get a black coffee with two creams and a hot chocolate?” He asks, dropping your hand to dig around for his wallet in the pocket of his jacket.

That was another thing, Mr. Potter had gifted him that very same wallet a handful of years ago. It was a hand-me-down, but that was the least of his concerns when he was given the leather wallet. He didn’t care about the scratches or worn corners. That was the first real gift he’d ever gotten that had true thoughtfulness behind it.

He remembered your order like the back of his hand, and he’d gotten the same thing every single time.

The drinks were ready in no time and he put some money on the counter with a little extra for a tip, handing you yours as he headed towards that ever familiar table tucked away in the corner by the window.

He ran his hand through his hair, sitting those sunglasses back on the top of his head once more to push his hair out of his face. Your smile was fond as you looked at him, a stubborn chunk of black hair dipping over his forehead and brushing against the tip of his nose anyway.

“Remember this place, love?” He asks, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“As if I’d ever forget,” you say, a laugh leaving your lips.

Of course you did, it was hard to forget the one and only place you’d met Sirius black in a few years back.

It was a hectic afternoon, customer after customer flooding into the coffee shop especially now that the fall season was sweeping in at last. Things were always busy around this time of year, things were always busy around this time of day, so you’d come to expect the rush hour by now after all this time you’ve worked there.

Things were fairly simple once you got the hang of it, once you were able to do things with a practiced ease and it made the line of customers a little bit easier to move along. Most of them you knew by name, most of them you knew their orders because they never failed to get the very same thing each and every day that they came in. Some of them came in every day, some of them came in every week, some of them even had a select day of the week that they stopped in for their usual order.

It was one of the things you liked about working there. The regular customers were friendly as ever and made the workload a little easier given the prior knowledge of just what they get and how they like it, and it makes the time fly just a little bit faster.

The day hadn’t been your finest, you’d gone and spilled half a cup of hot chocolate on your apron, one you didn’t have the time to swap out and you’re quite sure you’d still had a smear of flour on your face from catching up on baking that morning before opening time. But that clumsiness was only in your nature and it was everything you expected from yourself.

“Y/n, can you cover up front? There’s someone waiting.”

That clumsiness only heightened at the sight of a new face, one you don’t believe you’ve seen frequent the shop before. He’s got a mess of black hair he keeps tucking behind his ear, yellow sunglasses dangling from the collar of a Queen t-shirt as his gaze focuses out of the window to his left. He’s got a pack of cigarettes tucked in the front pocket of his jean jacket and pin on the other.

You quit your staring, you quit while you were ahead as you smoothed your coffee stained apron.

“What can I get for you today?” You ask, capturing his attention as he looks at you.

You swallow thickly as your gaze meets gray eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You take notice of the dimple in his chin and the strands of dark hair that dip down over his forehead as he leans against the counter.

“Just a black coffee with two creams, please,” he says.

“Your name?”

“Sirius.”

You nod with a smile as you snag a cup and the marker from your pocket, turning on your heel to head towards the coffee as you uncapped your marker before you very quickly made that realization and spun back around. In the process, you nearly tripped over your own two feet and you can feel the heat blossoming in your cheeks.

“Sorry, how do you spell that?” You ask, biting the inside of your cheek.

You hear the softness of chuckle as he looks at you, surprisingly not out of mocking even with the way you just made a fool of yourself in front of him. He spelled it out for you with a smile, and you turned away without tripping this time. You made his drink just how he’d asked, your heart racing in your chest the entirety of the two minutes it took to make it as you thought about his smile.

You tried your best to stall, to steal a little bit more time before you had to go back to the counter to face him once more. To give yourself a little more time to let the heat in your cheeks cool off.

You pressed on the lid to his cup and took a breath, turning around and heading back to the counter where he stood leaning against it still.

“One coffee with two creams for Sirius,” you say, setting the to-go cup on the counter as he dug around his pocket for some money.

He counted it out in his palm as his hair fell in his eyes, quickly brushed away as he ran his hand through his hair and set the money down in exchange for his drink, and a little extra for a tip.

You notice the way his gaze lingers on you for a little bit longer, you notice it as the seconds pass and your heart races. It lingers on you and you can see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up as he does, spinning the cup in his hand out of an absentminded habit as his gray gaze finally meets yours.

“You’ve got a little something on your face, love,” he says, pointing to his own cheek as a signal for your own face.

Your hand shoots up immediately to swipe across your cheek, the heat in your face flooding back once more as you swipe your fingers across your skin, pulling back to see that dreaded flour on your face that you knew was bound to be there from that morning.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say with a laugh and a smile, his following soon after as he nods.

There’s a sort of tension that simmers as you meet his gaze once more, as it bounces to his smile and you’re not quite sure if time actually stopped or if this is some cliche moving moment happening to you in the middle of your shift, or neither and you’re just being ridiculous. That, it’s probably that one.

Either way, you find yourself interrupted by the ding of the bell to your side on the counter from a customer growing impatient, a call of your name sounding over your shoulder just behind you. It all brings you back to reality.

“Have a nice day, Sirius,” you say, watching as he nods.

“I’ll see you around.”

With that, he offers you that same smile that had your mind on it for a ridiculous amount of time, that smile that made your heart race, and he turned away and headed out that door with a little ding of the bell over the door. He headed down the sidewalk as he snagged a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it before he disappeared around the corner.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Sirius asks, grabbing your attention as he gazes at you over the rim of his cup, gray eyes full of amusement.

“About what?” You ask, playing into it with a half smile even though you know you’re bound to be met with a tease.

“That time you tripped over your own two feet. I mean, do I really have that effect on people, love?” He jest, feeling you kick his foot just under the table.

There it is.

“Must you be so cocky, Pads?” You ask, your gaze glimmering with amusement as you purse your lips.

“I’m afraid I must,” he says.

You roll your eyes as you sip on your drink, eyeing the smile forming on his lips. “What?”

He chuckles as he shakes his head, his gaze dropping down as he swirls his drink in his hands and bites the inside of his cheek. His stare is more amused than ever as he looks at you again, that same lingering gaze set on you in the very same way it had been all those years ago and you knew it couldn’t have meant anything good. If it was anything like that very first time, you were bound to feel your cheeks grow hot even though you’ve known the troublemaker for years.

He doesn’t say anything at first, quiet as he lifts his hand and swipes it across the top of your lip and all the way to the corner of your mouth. He’s just as amused as he wipes away some hot chocolate that’s been left behind from your sip, his chuckle immediate.

“You’ve got a little something on your face, love,” he says, and you hear that teasing tone in his voice that he’s always got, that mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I truly think it’s you that’s the pain,” you huff, biting back your smile.

He chuckles. “‘S that so?”

You nod as you smile at him. “Very much so.”

He bites his lip momentarily as he looks at you, that pesky chunk of his hair falling back down in his face. “I take that as a compliment.”

He used your earlier words, of course he did, that’s just how Sirius Black is. Taunting and teasing in the most lighthearted of ways and that’s something that’s always been so, that’s something that always will be so forever and ever.

He’s got the tip of the arm of his sunglasses between his teeth, having given up on using them to hold back his hair as he looks around the little coffee shop where it all began, as he looks out the window at passers by, the corner of his mouth quirking up when he feels your gaze on him. It widens a fraction as he feels you get up, feels you swing around the edge of the table to take a seat in the booth bench next to him rather than sit across from him.

You’re quiet for a few moments as you rest your head on his shoulder. The foot traffic in the shop was dwindling as it neared closing time, growing less and less busy until it was starting to become just the two of you there. But you weren’t so focused on the details, not when you’ve been in your own little world with the one stealing your attention right next to you as you sat in your usual booth in the corner.

This was it, this was where it all began, this was where you’d met the chaos that is Sirius Black. The chaos that’s brought nothing but good into your life, nothing but a thrilling excitement that only he could bring.

You lift your head and look up at him, his gaze falling on you within a moment’s time. You see that smile, that smile that makes your heart race a mile a minute. You see it and you mirror it as you look at him. It’s only a matter of seconds before you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet and tasting of hot chocolate and coffee and a little bit of that smoke that never quite left his lips.

You kiss him before you wrap your hands around your cup, feeling his eyes on you. You take a sip as you stifle your smile, the arm of his glasses between his teeth once more as that smile he’s got remains as you look at him. You smile when you look away, head shaking as you nudge his foot with yours.

This is where it all began a handful of years ago. This is where you met Sirius Black for the very first time.

—

Tags: @nancybycrs @pogueslandia @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @writeroutoftime @awritingtree @lilypad-55449 @medalloway-blog @vicouscirce @mon4907 @violetrainbow412-blog

[hannah-the-red-head]

A Third Submission to the Imagines Society”

(League of villains meets an Autistic child with a quirk that is the definition of too good for this world and then some)

You were a tiny thing when Twice, Toga and Magne stumbled across you at the park, staring intently at what looked like your shoes with your back turned.

Magne summarized that you were most likely around 5 or 6 years old based on the kindergarten uniform you wore, the adorable hat hanging on your back while your (h/l), (h/s) (h/c) was out and about. Usually, the tree would lose interest after a while and go about their merry way.

But there was something about you that made them stay, Toga’s curiosity getting the best of her as she skipped over to where you were on your knees, she then peeked over a shoulder to see you staring in awe at butterfly that was softly moving it’s wings while resting on the petals of a blossom planted in the nearby garden.

It was one that she had never seen before, well at least in real life, but the sandy blonde remembered that she had once seen it on the internet somewhere.

It was a monarch butterfly, and last she or anyone else knew, the species were hanging by a thread and close to extinction over the last 56 years. She had admit that the pictures were close to nothing compared to the real thing as Toga watched with starry eyes at how the orange colors splashed with black and white glowed in the sunlight.

Magne herself, followed by Twice then decided to follow toga’s lead when she began to giggle like an actual schoolgirl instead of the blood obsessed vampire they knew and loved. The two peeking at the sight of both you and Toga being the surprising perches of a collection of what looked to be more Monarch butterflies that seemingly appeared out of no where.

And one of them was perched right on the tip of Toga’s nose.

Meanwhile, you had taken notice that you had a butterfly watching buddy the second you felt her crouched down next to you, your glowing (e/c) eyes staring at her with curiosity before deciding that she was interesting enough for you to deem her harmless, despite not knowing the truth.

Because in your young and innocent head, anyone that appreciated butterflies as much as you did was a good person and/or possible friend in your book.

She looked at you when she felt your eyes on her and gave you a big smile, which from what you learned meant that she was happy. So that meant that she likes you too. You smiled widely back and a series of bright rainbow colored balls of light lifted themselves off your little form, your quirk creating more butterflies from them while your new friend’s eyes sparkled.

Your quirk was called Wonder, the specialist who gave it that name having been inspired by the same emotion felt after witnessing you use your quirk at first hand to bring a rat back to life after it had been killed by a mousetrap, and later on when they returned back to the room to see that it had been filled with butterflies flying beautifully above them.

Nowadays, you mainly used your quirk to create butterflies.

Why?

Because butterflies made you happy, they made you calm, they took your worries away... and watching them was akin to what your therapist at the orphanage called stimming, your hand movements if you easily became overwhelmed resembling a butterfly flapping it’s delicate wings.

You were also fond of anything that felt like the texture closest to what you thought butterfly wings looked. However, this obsession was also the reason why your were ostracized by the other children, ignored completely by them at the worst despite how hard the workers at the orphanage tried to explain what your condition was.

You didn’t understand why the workers had the need to get the other kids to like you, if you wanted friends, you’d get some yourself on your own.

And you never understood why you had to take speech therapy, wasn’t writing in your notebook enough? You hated loud noises, they scared away things, things that are... nice.

Things like butterflies and rats and rabbits and deer, which meant that you couldn’t appreciate them anymore if they left.

So, why was there a need to make noise or let alone talk? You could never control how loud your voice was anyways. You didn’t care about how sometimes you overheard the caretakers at the orphanage whispered things about how alien you acted.

Which led to where you were now, little you having completely forgotten that you were separated from the other children heading back towards the orphanage after school had finished when you eyes spotted a flower that looked familiar until your quirk manifested the butterfly.

They sounded as if you were broken as a human.

When in reality you weren’t, you weren’t broken and needed to be fixed. At first it made you believe those words, but the moments where your eyes caught onto anything relating to those paper thin wings that radiated with the colors of the rainbow, you’re mind went to an alternate world where those who spoke about your strangeness were nonexistent.

It was then that you remembered seeing the same flower from the picture book at your school, the pink and green flora being the type of chosen roost for the orange, white and black insect to rest on if they got tired.

You never knew how much time passed when you felt your new friend’s presence near you until you turned around silently to see a schoolgirl older than your smiling peacefully at your creation, who then smiled at you.

Smiles meant something good, right?

Your quirk activated instinctually, your subconscious telling you to make your friend happy again by creating more things that made her happy, like how butterflies made you happy. You watched as the manifested insects flew over to the girl and rested on her shoulders, two nestled on the wild hair of her twin buns and one on her nose, the sensation of it’s delicate wings tickling her skin bringing a giggle out of her.

You copied her, giggling as well as you knew that laughing is what friends did. The exchange between you two led to a pair of others appearing behind your friend, the both of them watching in awe at how gentle you were.

Meanwhile in their perspective, Twice and big sis Magne were in awe.

This was a side of Toga that the pair had never seen before, so their interest in you grew steadily as they approached you both, seeing that the number of butterflies had grown the closer the became, the same orbs of light appearing to change into other species before the skies above the park had clouds of multicolored wings flying above like a piece of artwork created by nature.

It felt like a blessing to witness a sight like this, a much desired peace accomplished after so many months of being on the run from heroes and the police.

Twice jumped up and began to comically twirl about among the flocks of winged bugs, his splitting personalities having been silenced by the Nirvana he felt surrounding him, only stopping when he heard a few giggles left your mouth while you tried to keep up with him and Toga’s free styling dances without a care in the world.

The four of you not caring that you were getting strange looks and even scowls from those who crossed your paths in order to get a better look at the butterflies conjured by your beautiful quirk.

By the time the sun had set, you and your new friends had collapsed onto the grass, laughing in between breaths from all the fun you shared in those hours of innocent fun.

And you were the one to give that sense of childhood purity of fun back to them without realizing it. In your mind, you were happy that you had finally made friends by yourself as with a kick of your short legs you sat up and turned to the one closest to you, a tall woman with sunglasses and short hair the other two called “Big Sis Mag”.

You poked her cheek and she turned her face towards yours. Taking a deep breath, you decided to try something new that you hadn’t done or were comfortable with.

You: (Yy...yourrr n....nnamme!).... (Your Name)!

It was hard at first, being silent for most of your childhood being the reason as to why you sounded like a newborn attempting to say their first word. But the pride you felt as you pointed to yourself when you said your name clearly on the second try was amazing.

“Big Sis’” eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you understood why she was shocked as the only noises you made were giggles and squeals.

You: (Your name)!.... B-big sissy... Mmmmmag! Fr...friends! T-t-too...Toga! Fri..ends! Twi...Twice! Friends!

All three had unknown expressions present while you gave them a wide toothy grin that you had never given anyone except for your mama.

Twice: I think I’m gonna cry.... No, I’m not! Grow a pair!

Twice cartoonishly wept through his mask, tears that would only exist within an Animé pouring from the eyes of his black and grey mask before stopping almost immediately, his face changing to that of a stoic man drawn in comic books.

Toga just smiled at Twice, before a weak tug on her cardigan pulled her attentions to you, your arms held out wide and with an excited glow to you. You always remembered the warmth your mother’s hugs were growing up, how safe and loved you felt when your adorable self tackled her leg in a weak koala hug before she pulled you into her own arms.

Toga: Oh does (y/n)-chan want a hug?

You nodded and tackled the blonde, arms wrapped around her neck with you cheek pressed against hers, something your mother called “cuddle bumps” as you hated it when someone kissed you.

You: C-cu-cuddle bu-bumps!

Twice: I want cuddle bumps! No, I don’t that’s weird!

You nuzzled your cheek against hers, the teenage girl internally squealing and hugging you back as she was overcome with a sense of some maternal need to protect you and the light your little self emanated, both figuratively and literally as your quirk caused you to glow a warm pink color.

Toga playfully stuck out her tongue towards him, when an idea came to her.

—————

Shigaraki: And the most logical thing that you could ever think of in that moment.... was to bring this brat home?!

Toga’s cheeks puffed up as she hugged your little form from behind while you fiddled with your quirk, a manifested butterfly perched in the palm of your hand. You loved the feeling of your big sister’s soft cardigan as she hugged you.

Toga: Of course, Shiggy! I mean they’re an orphan left behind by those “caretakers”, we even waited to see if anyone would come looking.

Twice: Yeah, it was so nerve wracking! I was bored beyond belief....

Shigaraki let out an aggravated sigh, knowing that you had wormed your way into the hearts of the most in the league, Dabi being the first to cave when you used your quirk to soothe the pain in his burnt skin. He didn’t know why, but the fire quirk user’s eyes softened when you gazed up at his skin and your smile faded, a look of genuine worry that he possibly never experienced in some time as your tiny hand went up to hold his hand with the both of yours.

The rest of the already shocked league watching as an aura glowed from your small form, the glow then moving up your arms and finally covering Dabi in the glow before then pulling away into orbs that popped like soap bubbles filled with fireflies.

Dabi reacted in a way that not even he could describe as all the unbearable burning pain his scars brought him disappeared, a strange surge of.... calm washed over him.

It was the kind of calm that one would feel when a powerful storm dissipates, allowing the warm sun to bathe the earth once again. 

And it was the type of calm that brought a heavy exhale out of Dabi, almost as if he had finally learned to breathe, tears falling down his cheeks and startling him, a hand shooting up to touch his wet face and pulling it away to see what was falling from his eyes.

This... made the tears fall harder.

Dabi had long forgotten what it felt like to cry actual salt water tears instead of blood. A relieved upwards tilt pulled at his lips as he fell to his knees before you, no words exchanged, just glances and a gentle grip of your joined hands.

You: No pain?

Your concern overweighed your struggling speech, your free hand raising up to hover next to his cheek. He chuckled softly, allowing you to place your hands onto his face.

Dabi: No pain. All better.

Your quirk was befitting for such a gentle, caring and kind being as you.

To put it simply, you could restore a person’s injuries, negative outlook on life due to traumatic experiences, and even their lost sense of morality via through your touch, being in your presence, or even by witnessing your creations first hand.

This was your power, a quirk that purified the evil living within this cruel world.

You could literally restore a person or persons lost sense of morality, your quirk changing a sociopathic killer into a saint seeking redemption just by spending an hour with you. 

Your quirk also allowed you to heal any kind of wound or cure any illness, it could even replace missing limbs and the like as long as you kept your focus.

And it was meant to be protected.

Which is why you were taken into the protection of the league of villains, the only group of people who were the first to actually care for you after your mama’s passing, and didn’t speak badly of you or your condition.

Because they didn’t mind that you were autistic, they didn’t see you as broken or wrong. How did you know that they didn’t ostracize you?

They told you.

Twice: You, broken? Ha, that’s fresh! At least you don’t have more than one voice in your head...

Toga: My quirk needs me to drink the blood of the person i’m going to transform into in order for it to work, and because of that, I was pushed away by everyone for how creepy it made me look.

Magne: Anyone would be proud to call you their kid with a drop of a hat. So what if your special needs, it doesn’t make you any less human, sweetie.

Dabi didn’t say anything when you asked, in your broken speech, if you were broken. Instead, he just ruffled your hair and let you wear his jacket all day.

Compress: This world is filled with imperfections, but who is to say that imperfections are ugly and unwanted. To me, imperfections are where true beauty lies as it shows that despite their flaws, they try again and again to make themselves better.

Spinner: Kid, I am a walking talking lizard with pink hair and a desire to follow Stain’s path to create a society where only those who embody the traits of true heroes like All Might are allowed to become heroes.

You didn’t know how to react as he continued.

Spinner: If anything, you are the most normal out of all of us, so don’t go hating on yourself because you’re brain is wired differently. You’re perfect just the way you are.

Magne: Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say, Spinner!

Spinner: BIG SIS MAGNE?!?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!

Toga: Enough to know that you give the best pep talks!~

[sageinacage]

ok retry because tumblr deleted the prompt from your askbox >:( how about a fic with lee!eret and ler!foolish where foolish knew that eret was ticklish in the past, and now in present day, he wants to know if that fact is still true and tries to discover it for himself? i love ur fics btw!!! :D

Old Pal summary: foolish is curious if his old friend eret is still ticklish. a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THEIR DYNAMIC I APOLOGIZE THAT ITS PROBABLY A BIT OOC BAHAHA warnings: n/a w/c: 1.6k DSMP, Platonic

~

‘Was the sun always this bright?!’ Foolish squinted in thought, looking up at the clear sky as he raised his hand to block the rays of light aimed right at his face. He huffed, lowering his hand and leaning against the furnaces he set up in his construction area.

It was a sunny afternoon, a light breeze brushing through the leaves on the trees scattered around the area. Foolish was busy today, working on the mansion he was commissioned to build for his friends Ranboo and Tubbo. It was a beautiful building so far, so much done but so much to do still.

“What time is it?” The shark-totem hybrid asked himself, opening his inventory to grab ahold of his clock. He smiled to himself. It was only one in the afternoon, a perfect time for a lunch break.

He walked down the path, going back to town. As Foolish walked, he took the time to look around, looking at the buildings around him. He smiled as nostalgia filled his heart, then filling at a newfound speed when he saw the castle.

Arriving at the gates of the castle after a swift speed-walk, he walked in. You see, his old pal Eret lived in the walls of the gorgeous castle, and Foolish was one loving guy and just wanted to see his friend.

“Eret- King Eret? Are you hooome?!” He called out, chuckling at the echo he heard. Amused by the echo, Foolish kept on yelling. “Yoo-hoo, Eret! Your pal is here!” He continued to shout, laughing at each echo he heard back. About to shout again, he heard a chuckle; one that didn’t belong to himself. Foolish whipped around, seeing a person wearing the signature sunglasses of his friend.

“Eret!”

“How’s my friend doing?” They smiled, opening his arms for a hug. Foolish, being much taller than the monarch, bent down to surround them in a tight hug, lifting them up with him as he stood up straight. “Alrihight, put me down, Foolish!” Eret laughed warmly, being put back down on their feet only after a dramatic whine from the hybrid.

“Still a big softie, I see?” The monarch chuckled, fixing their shades which got tilted from the big hug Foolish gave. “Eret, you’re talking like I haven’t seen you in years. Well- I mean, it has been a while…” He rubbed the back of his head, bashfully smiling at the light chortles Eret produced. “It has been a while, you goof.”

The two had some good laughs as they ate lunch together, catching up on what has been going on in each other's lives; but also talking about memories they remember. One really stuck with Foolish, a memory of when they used to playfully fight all the time. By ‘playfully fight,’ I mean tickle each other.

“Foolish, do you remember our old tickle fights? Those were always so fun.”

Did they just read his mind? Foolish’s eyes widened before he composed himself, smiling. “Yeah, I usually won them as well.” He sniggered, earning an exaggerated gasp from his friend. “You did not! I was usually the victor, don’t lie to yourself!” Eret laughed, picking up Foolish’s and their plates to bring them to the kitchen.

Foolish smiled to himself, then looked up in thought. ‘Were they still ticklish? Could someone even lose ticklishness? Am I still ticklish?’ The hybrid hummed as thoughts played in his mind, not noticing Eret’s fond smile at the doorway of the living room. “Whatcha thinking about there, pal?” They smiled, Foolish cowered sheepishly at the sudden voice.

“Oh- Eret! I didn’t notice you were b- back already!”

“You’re nervous. What’s on your mind?”

“N… Nothing!”

“I don’t believe that, Foolish.” The monarch sighed, sitting on the soft couch near the table. “Why don’t you sit down?” Eret offered, Foolish slowly making his way to sit next to them on the pillow-filled couch.

“Are you sick? You’re quite red.” They furrowed their eyebrows, placing the back of their palm on Foolish’s forehead. “I’m fine, I promise!” Foolish smiled, snickering to himself at how Eret really never changed. They’ve always been so kind and caring, always taking care of their friends and people who mean loads to them.

“You’re lost in thought again, friend.” Eret smiled, the other crossing his arms. “You can tell me what’s on your mind, you know I wouldn’t judge you for anything.”

“Are you ticklish, Eret?” Foolish blurted out, Eret’s raising their eyebrows in surprise, but melting into a soft smile. “Why were you so nervous to ask that, you goof? Though I don’t know if I am… maybe? Who knows.” Eret thought, before chuckling at Foolish’s sudden expression: it was a mix of surprise and happiness. It was a quiet moment- until Foolish’s little smirk turned into a wide, toothy grin.

“Let’s test it. I think it’s fair if I reclaim a few victories of my own, yeah?” Foolish giggled evilly before diving his fingers down to squeeze their waist. The sudden jerk the monarch produced exposed the truth. Yes, Eret was still ticklish. Definitely.

“Fooholihish!” Eret laughed playfully, holding Foolish’s wrists; but not pushing him away. “Aha! So you are still ticklish!” Foolish excitedly announced, his squeezing fingers turning into fluttering fingertips up Eret’s ribs over their dress shirt. “Nihihice obsehervation!” The sassiness is definitely still there as well, apparently.

Foolish hummed in thought, trying to remember any sweet spots. You could practically see a lightbulb appear over his head as his face lit up. “Whahat are you plahanni-IHIHAHAHA- FOOLISH!” Eret squealed, throwing themself back on the couch. Foolish’s hands gently squeezed up and down their thighs, eventually settling on the spot right above their kneecap.

Laughing at the sudden cackle, Foolish stopped his squeezing to just rake his slight claws up and down their thighs instead. “It looks like getting a victory will be easier than I thought, huh?”

Eret shook their head. “You neheed to t- try haharder than thahat, paha-AHAHAL, NOHOT THEHERE!” They threw their head back, glasses almost flying off as the squeezing started up again, moving to the under-sides of their thighs. The mix of squeezes and raking on the backs of their thighs was driving Eret mad, the feeling nearly unbearable.

“Fiiine, it would be fun to figure out your tickle spots allll over again, don’t you think?” Foolish sniggered, slipping his hands out from under them, only to wiggle his fingers over Eret’s stomach. They immediately sucked their stomach in on reflex, squirming gently to get away from the impending claws over his belly.

“Oh? What’s wroooong, Eret? You think you can get away from my tickles? Is that it?” Foolish raised an eyebrow, lowering his hands before Eret could get a word of retaliation out. The monarch kicked their legs, arms crashing down to weakly shove at the attacking hands. “F- FOOHOLISH! SHUHUSH!” Eret let out more high-pitched giggles, a few hiccups peppering through their laughing fit.

“No, I don’t think I will. It’s fun to talk about how ticklish you are, and how much I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you! Laugh for me!” The hybrid teased, cooing little noises at the monarch as he wagged a single claw over their ribs, as his other hand prodded on the side of their belly. “Oooh, maybe instead of the ‘King of the SMP,’ you could be the ‘King of Giggles!’ I like that better. What do you think about that, King?”

Eret shook their head, face growing red and warm at the new title bestowed onto them. “STOHOP T- TAHALKING!” They playfully rebuttal, earning a head shake from Foolish. “That wasn’t very nice, King of Giggles! I think I should humble you a little bit, yeah?” Before Eret could retaliate, their words evaporated into nervous giggles as they felt the bottom buttons of their dress shirt come undone.

“Y’know Eret, a while ago when we had these tickle fights, you always did something that made me lose every time. Do you remember what that was?” Foolish started, then smirked. “I believe the technique is called a ‘raspberry.’ Does that ring a bell, Eret? I bet it does, you’re blushing right now.” He smiled, pushing the bottom of their shirt aside.

As they felt cold air brush over their belly, shivers rushed over them and butterflies erupted in their stomach, now excited giggles bubbling up from their throat. “Juhust do ihit!” Eret complained, digging their heels into the couch behind Foolish.

He laughed, leaning down. “Alriiight, you technically asked for it, though!” Foolish smirked at Eret before planting a large raspberry right underneath their navel. Screw Foolish and his strong shark lungs. “F- FOOLIHISH- YOHOHOU WIHIHIHIN- I GIHIVE! PLEHEHASE!” Eret managed to get out through their laughter, grabbing a pillow to protect themselves with as they caught their breath.

“One win for Foolish, let’s go! Looks like I’m in the lead now.” Foolish crossed his arms triumphantly, a proud smile plastered on his face. “Wehe’re tahallying up wihins now?” Eret asked, fixing their crooked glasses. The hybrid nodded at them, putting his hands on his hips as he stood up.

“Hmm, I better get my lead back then.” Eret smirked, Foolish’s proud grin shifting into a skittish smile. “Wh- what? Wait, Erehet. Yohou don’t need toho!” He shook his head, putting his arms out in front of him as a ‘defensive mechanism.’

“Watch yourself, old pal. I think it’s time I discover your tickle spots now.”

[skellebonez]

How's about 45 and 54 where canon MK finds himself in the Inverted AU Universe? Because I think that'd be funny

Poor MK is having the second worst day of his entire life. This is not the situation he should be in AFTER THE FINALE. This would have been way different if I wrote this when you sent it in, but now you get a very sad Monkie Kid.

You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child./ Yeah well dying generally puts a damper on things.

When MK was knocked out they were on the deck of the drone ship, fighting off some kind of demon that the White Bone Spirit had taken under her control.

When MK woke up they were on the sandy shores of Mount Huaguo surrounded by baby monkeys and one Six-Eared Macaque looking down at them with a face of great concern.

“Are you-” Macaque started to ask them, unable to finish his sentence when MK screamed and kicked out and just barely missed making contact that would have sent him flying backwards into the nearest tree. “Whoa, no, it’s alright! I’m not-”

“What did you do to me this time, Macaque!?” MK yelled, looking around for a weapon, any weapon, something they could use to defend themself. Their eyes fell on something familiar, something that shouldn’t exist anymore and they froze at the sight of red and gold.

“Little one, is your name MK?” Macaque asked softly, holding up his hands as he slowly walked forward back toward the started and confused young adult before him. “I found you washed up on the shore. You need to lay back down, you’re still-”

Macaque let out a yelp of surprise as MK dove, hand firmly grasping the familiar warm-cold center of the staff.

But it felt... wrong, somehow.

They didn’t let go.

"OK, WHAT IS HAPPENING!?" MK shouted, holding the stolen staff in front of them as they turned on the immortal monkey that was their one time mentor. "Is this Jin and Yin again? Is this the Calabash!? Did they change it so my stuff doesn’t work in it anymore!? I'm not falling for that again!"

"I'm sorry, the what?" A new voice rang from behind him. One a little... too familiar...

It was MK. It shouldn't be possible, not if the Calabash was working the same way it had worked before, but it was them. But not.

Like... the way the staff felt.

The Other MK standing in the too bright sun wore a stark sky blue and black instead of his signature orange and red, a large hefty backpack in that same blue slung over his back. And he was... tall. Not unusually tall, just taller than MK was. And also looked incredibly angry as he carried a box of medical supplies.

"The... Calabash..." MK repeated, holding the staff closer to their chest with a nervous gulp. Their hands twisted around the staff nervously, hoping the repetitive action would ground them against the repeating 'THERE IS ANOTHER YOU STARING AT YOU WHAT THE HELL' whizzing in their head. "This... this isn't Jin and Yin again after all, is it?"

MK gulped again, blinking as their vision swam suddenly and their head felt like it was filled with... something. Like liquid but if it was as light as air.

"I don't know which answer would be better for you," Macaque said softly, honesty palpable in his tone. Something so odd for the Monkie Kid to hear in their ears with that voice. "But no. We are very much real."

"Oh..." MK said plainly. "Oh that's bad. That's... Oh boy..."

Before their eyes rolled back in their head and they passed out they were pretty sure they saw a few more overly familiar faces rushing to them.

~

When MK woke a second time they were once again moved, but to somewhere else far less familiar than the shores of Mount Huaguo and the drone ship... but also too familiar. They also now realized that their head hurt... a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

“Finally, you’re back from the brink of death,” that same overly familiar voice rang our in their ear. They snapped their head to the side, regretting it instantly as it made their vision swim again and lights pop in front of their eyes. “Hey, no, don’t do that!"

The other MK jumped up, kneeling down in front of them and poked them in the forehead. His scowl didn’t seem to let up in the slightest, but it tilted in a way that felt more concerned than angry.

"... why am I looking at my own face?" MK asked, not sure whether they should continue to stare at their own face or to look anywhere else to keep their brain from short circuiting trying to process what the actual hell was happening.

“Considering you were able to pick up my staff,” the other MK said, removing his finger and gesturing to the rod that was still across MK’s chest (how had he not noticed the extra weight of it still in his hand?). “I’d say we have some kind of multi-dimensional bullshitery going on here. Unless you’re, somehow, a robot made of the same shit Red used to get the that thing in the first place, but I don’t think robots bleed from head injuries.”

Ah. That would explain why his head felt like someone had cracked it open and shoved cotton balls into it.

MK looked around, taking in the stark white walls and the overly clean smell and the clean white sheets they were laid on.

“... am I at the hospital?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Other MK yelled, raising his arms in frustration as he paced the room in a familiar excess of energy. “But unfortunately for us you don’t exactly exist here! So we’re figuring out a way to make them believe you’re me with some really fucked up memories my dude! Which is easier with, you know.”

The other MK knocked on his head twice, wincing a bit as the second knock seemed to be harder than intended.

“... but you’re..?”

“I snuck in.”

“OK, well, thanks for the help,” MK started, sitting himself up with more than a little struggle. “But I need to figure out what the heck happened and get back to-!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Other MK said, jumping on the bed and standing over him. That was... well, MK would definitely say that was a very weird but effective way of keeping someone from getting up. “Macaque already ran off without letting me stop him, I barely got him to take some backup, to figure out what in the hell is happening. You are me and I know myself and if you ever tell anyone this I will end you, but you are way too injured to be doing anything right now!”

“I have to do something, Other Me-”

“No, oh no I hate that, just call me Blue,” the other MK said, the scowl on his face softened ever so slightly once again. Just slightly. “It’s a lot better than ‘other me’. And there’s nothing we can do until Macaque gets us some answers.”

"So... what, Blue? Am I just supposed to sit around and wait for someone to come and rescue me if he finds nothing!?" MK snapped, grip on their staff tightening so much that their knuckles paled and creaked in stress. "Just do nothing while who knows what happens to my friends!?"

"No," Blue said, placing his hand on MK's shoulder and frowning when the other shrugged it off and curled in on themselves. "But hurting yourself isn't going to help you get back to them. And as long as you’re here you’re my responsibility.”

“I’m a grown ass adult, you should know that.”

“Yeah, well, dying generally puts a damper on things and you’re not so adult that you can’t escape death,” Blue said, letting himself fall back into a sitting position on the bed. “Unless you got to keep your invulnerability or something, but given the crack in your noggin that doesn’t seem... like...” Blue trailed off, looking at MK with an odd expression. “... are you ok? Like. Emotionally?”

“Huh?”

“You’re crying.”

MK wrestled with one of their hands to free it’s iron grip on the staff (not their staff, their staff was gone, they had to remind themselves that their staff was gone and... and so was so much else), raising to their cheek to discover that at some point in Blue’s retort they had indeed started crying.

“... what happened to you?”

“It’s a long story,” MK said, wiping their face on their arm (they now realized they were wearing hospital dressing). “I...” They grabbed the staff with their now free hand again, twisting the grip carefully and freeing the iron hold their other hand had. “Can I just... keep this for a bit longer?”

Blue looked at MK, looking between the other him and the staff that was rightfully his before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not like I need it right this second,” he said, his scowl vanishing completely as he stood and yanked over his backpack and put it back on after he pulled a baseball cap out and squished his hair into it and pulled it down to cover his face. “There’s gonna be someone here with you at all times until you get out, just to keep you in the loop of what’s going on here. We’ll figure out where you’re staying if Mac doesn’t figure out a way to get you home by tonight.” He moved toward the entrance to the room, turning back before opening it. “I’ll be back, I gotta restock my bag. There’s a couple people who wanna talk to you already... don’t... freak out.”

Before MK could ask what Blue meant the young man opened the door and slipped out, talking to someone just out of his line of vision before running off down the hall.

And then they saw the overly familiar sight of Pigsy and Tang... except they weren’t.

Pigsy, their Pigsy, was always in a chef’s uniform unless he was sleeping. Rough edges softened when he smiled or looked at MK or Mei with that exasperated look that MK knew meant he cared. Tang, their Tang, was a scholar who looked the part in every way, old fashioned clothes and books in hand. Always smiling when he could manage it and carefree.

This Pigsy was.. soft. And fluffy. Literally soft and fluffy. And wore oversized sweaters and smiled in a way that fit more on someone else’s face but felt right at home on his. This Tang was...

Well, the only way MK could think to describe the man before them was “skinny biker with probably hidden muscles who would kick your ass”. He looked the same but his hair was more wild, sunglasses pushing his bangs up, decked out in a (probably fake) leather jacket... but he had the same scarf.

And he and Pigsy were holding hands.

“I suppose you already know who we are,” the biker version of Tang said, smile on his face very awkward and seeming somewhat forced in a “I don’t know if this is helping but I’m gonna try” kind of way. “And we know who... you are. Kinda.”

“Yeah,” MK responded, thinking for a moment back to when he was found on the beach. “Were you... were you the ones with Blue, the other me, on Mount Huaguo?”

“Yeah,” the soft Pigsy said and... wow, hearing that voice say something so gently so casually was throwing him through a loop. “M-Blue was convinced we needed to get out of the city for the day and brought us along for his training. We didn’t expect to find... well, another him...” Pigsy frowned, the first one MK saw on his face and it felt so much more openly worried than their own Pigsy’s scowls. “How are you feeling?”

MK looked down at the staff in their hands, then back up to the two men in front of them.

They weren’t the two people MK considered father figures. They weren’t. But they were. And as MK tried to process this they felt their breathing speed up faster and faster and faster until-

“Hey,” Tang said, gentle and soft voice breaking MK from their racing thoughts as he reached out to put a hand in MK’s hair but stopped himself short. Probably in remembering that they weren’t Blue. “You can stay with us if you want. Once you’re discharged and if you need somewhere to stay.”

Well... that didn’t help at all.

No.

Instead it opened the floodgates and MK started crying harder than they had since the final fight with the White Bone Spirit, curling in on themselves as the last few days and what had transpired really hit them.

“What the FUCK did you do!?” He heard his own voice shout from the doorway.

~

It looked like PIgsy’s apartment. But not.

MK’s hands clenched at air, wishing they still had the staff for comfort. But no, they insisted that Blue take it back when they were discharged.

Blue was still the Monkie Kid after all. He needed the staff to fight.

MK... was just MK here. And they couldn’t fight, not while recovering from their injuries anyway.

But oh how they wish they hadn’t given it back. It felt so right and yet so wrong to hold it. They didn’t realize how much they had grown attached to the object until it was...

“MK?” Once again Pigsy’s voice startled him, not for the first time since they arrived at the apartment and MK took up the extra bedroom that this world’s counterpart had once stayed in until the apartment above the shop opened up for them. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” they responded, hands gripping the edge of their jacket in an attempt to hold something solid. It wasn’t the same. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” Pigsy said, coming into the room holding a cup of water and putting it on the nightstand. “And you don’t have to talk to us, if you don’t want to... but it’d probably help. Even if you just ramble about something.”

Had this been the other Pigsy he probably would have something something like “You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child”. Something firm and gruff and filled with underlying affection for the younger adult. But this Pigsy... there was some of that there. A firmness to his words, though the gruffness was missing. But he could feel the affection he must have had for Blue transferring to themself, the knowledge that they weren’t the same person holding most of it back.

But it was still there.

And MK hadn’t really talked to anyone since the short lived argument with Blue.

“... You uh...” they started, chuckling quietly as they twisted their fingers together. “You said you own a flower shop? My Pigsy, uh... he, runs a noodle shop.”

It wasn’t going to help. MK was certain that talking about their family and friends and how different they were would probably make how he felt worse.

But sitting there and ignoring it would make it worse far quicker in their mind.

So MK talked. For hours. Eventually Tang joined the two, both listening as MK recalled all the differences and similarities and...

Well. They listened. Just like their own Pigsy and Tang would.

... they wondered if they would ever get to go back.

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 6 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: The Garden

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hello there and sorry for the long wait! I wanted to move even further in the story but since this part already has 2.5k, I felt like it would be okay for me to end it here and continue with a new one tomorrow (that I plan to post within the next 2 days). It’s 2.40am, so, as always, if you find any mistakes - keep them :) 

_____________________________________________________________________________

You stare at you screen, mouth gasping wide open. Other than breathing, you don’t feel like you are capable of doing anything at all. Your phone shuts off again and you see yourself in the reflection of the now black screen, a look of disbelief plastered all across your face.

You look at the picture again and admire the breakfast contents for a short while before laying the phone aside to think of a proper response. People always say that you are supposed to wait for a little while, stay mysterious, seem unavailable. But thats just not who you are. She is thinking about you.

Just last week you had read an article about this phenomena and it being a new, additional love language. „This made me think of you“ is apparently the new way of telling someone you like them. Just as that thought crosses your head, you remember Alex is probably still on her phone right now and you should hit her with the news and figure out a good response together. She picks up the call immediately.

“Sweetheart!“ She greets you with a beaming smile, as always. “What’s up?“

“She texted.“ You say and wait for her response.

“Who?“, god, you can’t with this girl sometimes. Why is she so slow? “KATHRYN. She finally texted me!“ You exclaim in excitement, a little too loud.

Alex looks at you with wide eyes, frowning, as she scrunches up her nose trying to comprehend what you just said. “Oh… Ooooh. OH.“

“Exactly…“, you say and smile about her antics. “What are we gonna do now? You gotta tell me because I certainly don’t know!!“

Alex shakes her head. “Well, first of all, you gotta let me know what exactly she said in her message?“

She was right, you totally forgot, putting her on hold, you take a screenshot and shoot it her way. “It’s actually nothing special but somehow it’s very cute at the same time and I really need us to find the BEST response to that.“

The next few minutes consist of Alex pitching short puns to you, cute phrases and just simple acknowledgements, but nothing seems to fit. Especially since you yourself haven’t decided yet if you wanna start of flirty or not. You end up choosing the safest option and type „This looks beautiful! Hope you enjoy! xx Y/N.“ as a response. You aren’t quite please with it but, at the same time, you don’t wanna rush into things as long as you don’t know what was happening.

For a few minutes, you talk to Alex and ask her about her day and all, until she has to pick up dinner for her people - it’s Thursday after all and Thursday nights are family nights. She hits you with a “Go get her, tiger!“ and laughs at your face before she hangs up the phone.

Not expecting a reply from Kathryn anytime soon, you toss your phone on the sheets and lie down on your back to look at the ceiling that is plastered in those fluorescent stick on glow stars - a childhood sin. Just as you are about to close your eyes, the phone lights up again.

“Thanks :-) Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Lot’s of work related stress. You wanna come over and have a glass of wine in my garden on Saturday.“

Saturday… What was Saturday? You know very well Kathryn has an event going on this Saturday, but maybe you were just wrong. Excited you shoot her a quick response, letting her know it’s all fine and that, of course, you would like to see her again.

Unsure if it is a date or a casual hang out, you decide to already start planning an outfit in your head - just in case it is a date after all - as you walk downstairs to join your mom for lunch.

Saturday morning went by way too slowly as you sort through the possible outfits you came up with. You had yelled at Alex right after having lunch with your mom and the both of you shot outfit ideas back and forth all Friday before you sat down and watched The Goonies with your mom. It’s one of your comfort movies and you were really glad your mom chose it because that meant you didn’t have to concentrate on something new.

She still doesn’t know about the „you and Kathryn“, but not because you don’t trust her enough or anything. No, simply because you don’t know what exactly is happening - so why worry her? The whole situation is weird to talk about with Alex, why would you make it worse by including your mom.

Still, you decided to not lie to her and actually told her that you’ve recently met someone new and you are spending at least Saturday with her. It felt only fair to let her know. Your mother was smart enough not to ask any further questions, though. Maybe she realized that it was still a touchy topic for you - who knows.

You finally decide on what to wear and put on your favorite summer dress. It’s black, flow-y and has sun flowers all over. You don’t really know how long you’ll stay, so you pick out the blazer Kathryn loved last weekend, as well. Sighting, you find your way to the bathroom where you  loosely tame your hair and put on some light make up. Just like last time you’re going for casual but not too casual. You look at yourself and smile. This dress really does make you feel beautiful!

A notification chimes through the room - it’s Alex reminding you that it’s about time to go outside so Kathryn’s driver can pick you up. You really didn’t want to have him drive you, but she insisted and since you were invited over for wine anyway, it really didn’t make any sense to take your car in the first place - especially since you’ll have to get home somehow, preferably tonight.

The driver is already there as you leave the house after kissing your mom on the cheek as you passed her on your way through he kitchen. “Good Afternoon, Miss Y/LN“, he greets you politely, as you take a seat in the back of the car.

The ride isn’t too long and you swore to yourself you would pay attention where you were going but the nervousness took over and so you’re spending the time on your phone, texting Alex and making sure your make up is okay and your hair is nicely framing your face.

Kathryn’s driver looks at you through the rear mirror: “Your first time over at Kathryn’s, hm?“

You look up and your eyes meet for a short second as you nod. “Don’t be intimidated by her. She is the nicest person I’ve ever worked for. You’re gonna love her.“ If only he knew. It actually makes you feel better, though. You don’t want to admit it, but you are very much intimidated by Kathryn and can’t wait for the first nervousness to wash down once again.

As you drive up to the house, it looks exactly like what you expected it to look like, while, at the same time, it looks completely different. She lives in the Hollywood Hills, but not where all the famous pop stars live. Her house is surrounded by plants. It looks calm, secure even and not at all like an actress lives in it. The yellow walls are welcoming and warm and the lack of modern architecture is balm for your soul.

The driver offers to open the door for you but you decline and, right as you step out of the car, the front door opens. Kathryn looks at you with the happiest face and opens her arms video to wrap you up in a big hug. “Y/N! I’m so glad you made it! Welcome!“

She looks at her driver. “Thank you for bringing her, Peter! I’ll see you later. Agnes will let you know when we have to leave, please take some time to yourself until then.“ Peter nods and starts the engine.

You look at Kathryn. Her eyelashes are highlighted by the slightest hint of mascara while the rest of her face appears to be completely natural. She is so beautiful. You’re close enough to her to be able to tell she is indeed not wearing any make up. Her hair is halfway up, flowing over her shoulders, and she is wearing a beautiful orange blouse, similar to one she had worn in one of her shows before, combined with blue jeans.

Even as you turn around, her lips don't lose their smile and she puts a hand on your lower back as she leads you into the house. You enter a long hallways that leads straight into a beautiful garden, much bigger than what you had expected. In one corner, there is a seating arrangement consisting of a seemingly quite comfortable corner couch and a wooden table. The rest of the garden is open and full of bushes and trees and you can’t even tell where it ends. A wine bottle in an ice bucket is already waiting for you, accompanied by two glasses, one on each side of the couch. “I like your dress, Y/N.“ Your breath hitches since a compliment was the last thing you would’ve expected.

“Thank you!“, you say with a bright smile, as you blush slightly which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. 

She winks at you, “Always, hon.“

Right as you are seated and she gets comfortable on the couch after filling your glasses, the door to the garden opens and a woman with long red hair dressed in all black, who is wearing a headset as she is holding a clipboard, walks towards the table. Her hair, loosely braided and tossed over one shoulder, is decorated by a pair of big sunglasses that are sitting on top of her head. She looks stressed as she looks up from her clipboard.

“Kathryn! I am sorry to interrupt, but I just need to let you know stylists are gonna be here in maximum three hours. You have to eat something before that.” Looking at the wine on the table, she adds: “Do you want me to order pizza or anything for you guys?“

You look back and forth between the two of them as you are trying to figure out who that woman is and what exactly they are talking about. Kathryn nods to every word that’s being said, completely focused on the woman. “Yes, Agnes, you’re right. Thank you. Please order the usual, we will share.“ 

She shoots you a smile. “You trust me?“ You nod eagerly, and you mean it, even though you are quite picky when it comes to food. Agnes looks at you and back to Kathryn before excusing herself with a polite smile. “Three hours, Kathryn, MAX.“

“Oh SHUSH.“, Kathryn laughs wholeheartedly as she picks up her glass of wine, prompting you to pick up yours as well. “Let me say something: I am very glad you accepted today’s invitation and I am sorry it’s gonna be stressful, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it and you’ll have a great time.“

You look at her confused. “Great… time?“ Obviously you would be having a great time while hanging with Kathryn, but the way she phrases it sounds like something other than sitting in the garden is happening.

“Did I… not tell you?“ Kathryn sets down her drink and scans you with worried eyes.

Your stomach drops for a moment as you shake your head slowly. “Oh silly me! Listen, I have been so busy ever since we’ve met. I got cast for a new movie had to meet with different producers all week and then they told me to attend the awards this weekend, which I thought were only held digitally and I must have totally forgotten to let you know that that was a thing. Agnes and Jennifer do a really good job at organizing things for me, but sometimes“, she taps her head, “this old friend is not doing it anymore.“

She looks really sorry and you have to admit you are very stressed right now and actually you feel like you might panic any moment, but just as you are about to worry too much, she places a hand on your forearm. “I would very much enjoy just spending three hours with you while I enjoy what was supposed to be my day off, but I would also like to take you to these MTV movie awards with me tonight, I you want to tag along.“

You are flashed by the offer and immediately want to say yes, but remember what you are wearing. “But… Kathryn.. I can’t go looking like THIS.“ She looks you up and down, her hand still placed on your arm, and you just know she wants to tell you again that you are beautiful, you can see it in her eyes, in the way she smiles at you. She doesn’t though and that makes you doubt that this could ever be more than just a hangout.

Your thoughts are immediately washed away, as a warm smile is playing around her lips. “Don’t worry about that, dear. After you told me that you are in the middle of your studies and you live alone with your mom, I figured fancy evening wear might not be something that you have currently lying around just like that. So.. we figured something out for you as well.“

She moves her hand over your arm and takes your hand in hers. “You don’t have to come, though, if you don’t feel like it. Don’t worry! I didn’t buy anything. I borrowed them from one of those fancy shops.“ - she didn’t. But you don’t need to know that.

Even though the thought of attending an event like that gives you anxiety, you already know what you want to do and softly squeeze her hand as you nod while a small smile creeps onto your face. “I would love to, Kathryn! Thank you for inviting me.“

It’s time to let go of her hand, but she doesn’t seem like she wants the connection to stop just yet, so, obviously, you don’t end it, either. Instead, you lock eyes with her and stay in position for as long as she allows you to. You don’t know how much time has passed until you catch yourself as your eyes dart down to her lips after she sticked her tongue out for a split second to moisten them.

For a short moment, you feel like Kathryn is getting nervous but this can’t be, can it? To loosen the tension that has built up, you laugh and let go of her hand to grab your drink again. “Let’s raise these glasses to a great night, shall we?“

She joins in and locks eyes with you once again, a sheepish grin on her face, while she slightly raises one of her eyebrows. “Well… I’m certainly glad you’re here with me tonight.“