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6rookie-writer0110 · 5 months ago

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The ocean at our feet

Male Reader X Lena Luthor

Request - Can you do a MR! X lena Luthor fluff. R is Kara’s brother who came to earth with her when Krypton exploded, he also followed Kara to CatCo but became a Photographer instead of Assistant and when he met Lena became head over heels with her. Lena and R have a Lois and Clark style relationship until one day he saves her and reveals his identity to her

“I can't believe Cat left,” You said.

“I can't believe it, either. But you will like working there, just trust me. Lena will be a great boss” Kara said.

You knew that Kara was friends with Lena but you never met her. You and Kara used to live in Krypton, then went to Earth when Krypton exploded. You do wear glasses just like Kara and she is happy that you will work with her at Catco. You used to live with your sister but you moved out and she won't admit it but she does miss living with you.

You arrive at the company and she takes you to Lena’s office. Lena saw you and Kara walk into the office then she stood up, and walked toward you and Kara. She is smiling at you and you forgot how to say hi, you stare into her green eyes. Your body is feeling hot your heart is beating faster and faster. Lena said hi and she waiting for you to say hi back and tell her your name. You can't stop staring at her and you still don't say anything to her, then Kara taps your arm with her elbow.

“She asked your name,” Kara said.

“Oh-… My name is Y/N, I’m her brother” You said.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I know she is your sister because of her last name. Can I see your portfolio?” Lena said.

“Portfolio?” You asked.

“The big book, Y/N” Kara laughed.

“Oh!” You said.

You hand over your portfolio and Lena starts to look at the pictures carefully. You are feeling nervous that she is looking at your pictures and she doesn't say a word just yet. Lena doesn't look up just yet, but she can feel your eyes on her. Then she looks up and she looks at the camera around your neck. She thinks you are cute and she stares into your eyes for a few seconds.

“Y/n, you are very talented. I like how you capture the light and the moment in each picture. You got the job, as the new photographer” Lena smiled.

“Wow, thanks Ms Luthor,” You said.

You like how she says your name.

“Just call me Lena,” Lena said.

You nod then Kara gives you a hug and you can't stop smiling.

“Kara, I want you to work on an article with William Dey. It's about the new library opening in a neighborhood and they are giving away food for the families. And Y/N, you will come with me” Lena said.

“I will get on it” Kara smiled.

Kara left and you are feeling nervous again.

“Why me?” You asked.

“It's for work obviously, Y/N. Get your camera ready and let's go” Lena said.

You and Lena leave together and you sit next to her in the car. You smell her perfume and you like the scent. You never felt nervous around women before.

“We are going to a hospital for sick children. I need you to take pictures of them and everyone else and the hospital. We will need donations and posting pictures online will benefit the hospital” Lena said.

“I can do that. It's nice that you are helping them” You said.

“People deserve healthcare no matter what their financial status is,” Lena said.

“I understand,” You said.

You and Lena arrive at the hospital and you get the camera ready. You start to take pictures of the press conference and the guests. Lena gets on stage and you start to take pictures of her. Later, Lena starts to spend time with the sick kids and you start to take pictures of her with them. You start to like her even more because of how she likes to help people in need.

“Y/N, show me the pictures,” Lena said.

“Sure,” You said.

You start to show her the pictures and you watch her.

“Wow, Y/N each picture came out great and you didn't even edit the pictures yet,” Lena said.

“You are beautiful,” You said.

“Thank you, but you shouldn't say that to your boss,” Lena said.

“I’m sorry. I just blur out…”

“Y/N, calm down I’m not firing you,” Lena said.

“Sorry,” You said shyly.

“It’s alright. Get back to work” Lena said

“Yeah,” You said.

You continue to work and Lena starts to talk to the press again. Much later, you and Lena went back to the office. You start to edit the pictures then you stare at the screen and you stare at Lena’s eyes.

———

Lena would sometimes stare at you when you were not looking. She thinks you are cute but she doesn't want to cross the line between boss and employee. On the TV, everyone sees there is an explosion at a building and the fire is out of control. You and Kara stare at each other and then nod, you two sneak away and head to the elevator.

“Where are you two going?” Lena asked.

“Oh, umm we are going to cover the story,” You said quickly

You and your sister rushed to the elevator and you closed the door. You and Kara ran towards the alley and quickly changed. You and Kars fly toward the building on fire. Clark arrived and you two are happy to see him.

“Still no cape, Y/N?” Clark asked.

“Still trying to find my own style,” You said.

“I keep telling him, capes are cool but he is just being stubborn” Kara teased.

You start to work together with them saving people and putting out the fire. You saved a firefighter’s life, she almost fell inside the building when the ceiling fell and blocked the exit. Everyone started to cheer for you, Kara, and Clark.

Much later, you returned to the office and Lena asked questions about where you went. You lied about asking people about the fire and she did believe you. Now, she wants the article before morning then you texted Kara and told her what happened. She did help you, she wrote the article then you went back to take pictures of the building.

✫ ✯ ✬ ✫

You are working late and you just finished. Before going home, you see Lena in her office and you go into her office.

“Is everything okay?” You asked.

“I thought you went home,” Lena said.

“I thought the same for you. But i was editing some pictures. You seem sad, do you want to talk about it?” You said.

“I don't want to bother you and I’m sure your girlfriend is waiting for you at home,” Lena said.

“I don't have a girlfriend. But you can talk to me, I’m a good listener. Is it about your brother Lex?” You said.

You sit down next to her on the couch. You start to listen to her talk about her family drama and she likes that you are listening to her. She is surprised that you are single. You did change the conversation to make her laugh and she did laugh at your funny stories.

There would be times that you would stay late at work, to edit pictures. Lena would also stay late and work long hours and she would skip lunch.

“You didn't have to buy lunch for me, I’m your boss,” Lena said.

“I don't forget you are my boss. It’s passed eleven and it's nighttime and you skipped lunch. You are my boss from morning until eight at night, so right now just think of it as two friends having a late dinner together” You said.

Lena couldn't help to smile because of your response.

“What kind of pizza is it?” Lena asked.

“I didn't know what you liked so I picked pepperoni” You smiled.

“I do like pepperoni on my pizza. Okay, I will join you for dinner” Lena smiled.

You smiled and put the food on the table. She sits next to you, then you and Lena start to ask questions about each other. She is starting to have feelings for you but won't tell you tonight. After a while of eating and talking, you take her home.

“Thank you for taking me home,” Lena said.

“Anytime. I couldn't let you go home alone at this time, Lena” You said.

She briefly held your hand.

“Thank you and get home safe,” Lena said.

You are in shock that she is holding your hand.

“Bye,” You smiled.

You watched Lena go inside her building then you went home.

————

Before heading to work, you noticed Lena following Morgan Edge. You start to follow Lena but she doesn't notice you just yet. You take pictures of Morgan Edge talking to Benjamin Lockwood. You have super hearing and you hear them talking Supergirl and your alter ego. Lena starts to walk away then she bumps into you, and you almost drop your camera.

“Y/N what are you doing here?” Lena asked.

“I can ask the same for you. I saw you following him then i started to take pictures. Why are you following him?” You said.

“We can't talk here, let's go,” Lena said.

You went to the office with Lena. She starts to tell you why she is following him.

“He is poisoning the water in the poor neighborhoods and lying about me. I wanted to catch him in the act so people can see it's him, not me” Lena said.

“Oh. We will figure out how to catch him, don't worry about it you can trust me” You said.

“I do trust you that you won't tell anyone,” Lena said.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You said.

“Okay. Get to work” Lena said.

You leave her office then you sit at your desk. You are thinking hard about how to get him to confess or catch him in the act. But you don't tell your sister about it and she has been very busy.

The next night, you started to follow Benjamin and Morgan. You caught them spilling toxic waste into the pipes and you started to take pictures of them. Then someone brings out Lena tied up and you take a picture. Now, you change clothes and they are about to hurt her. But you used speed to stop Benjamin from hurting her.

“You won't hurt anyone else,” You said.

“Where did you come from?” Benjamin asked.

You don't say anything and you start to fight Morgan and Benjamin. You used a metal pipe to tie them up but they are passed out. You easily punched them and they passed out.

“Lena, are you okay?” You asked.

The cops arrived and you ripped the zip tie around her wrists. You tell them what happened and they believe you and Lena. You pick up Lena and fly her to the office.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Lena said.

“What?” You asked.

“I know it's you. Because of your camera and the last letters on your camera,” Lena said.

You look at your camera, you forgot to take it off. You didn't think about it because you didn't want her to get hurt even if you were two seconds late.

“I was following them to get proof then I saw you. I didn't want them to hurt you and I forgot to take off my camera” You said.

“I thought you would deny it,” Lena said.

“I didn't want to lie to you, Lena,” You said.

“Thank you for not lying to me,” Lena said.

Lena slowly leans in and you feel her lips on your lips. She starts to kiss you and you start to kiss her back and her lipstick gets on your lips.

———-

You and Lena started dating in secret. But you two keep it professional at work and she doesn't give you special treatment. Tonight, you went to Lena’s condo to spend time with her. You and Lena are making tacos and she is having fun making tacos with you.

“I never made tacos before” Lena smiled.

She drinks her wine.

“Do you like making it?” You asked.

“With you, Yes I like making it” Lena smiled.

She gives you a peck on the lips. After dinner, you and Lena cuddle on the couch to watch a scary movie. She hides her face on your chest and you have your arm around her. Again, she hid her face in your chest, and she held on to your shirt.

“We don't have to finish the movie, I will watch it on my own I want to see how it ends,” You said.

You stopped the movie and she slightly moved away.

“I didn't expect the movie to be scary,” Lena said.

“You didn't have to yes to watch a scary movie. We could have watched a chick-flick movie” You said.

“I do like other genres of movies not just chick flicks, Y/N” Lena said.

“I know, i was just teasing. We could play a game? Have any board games or cards?” You said.

“I have a game called Jenga, it belongs to your sister and she forgot to take it home. We could play that game” Lena smiled.

“Let’s play” You smiled.

She takes out the game and you start to set it up. You and Lena became competitive and she doesn't stop smiling at you. Lena is happy that doesn't have to change who she is with you and you accept everything about her. Lena won the first round then you and Lena started to play again.

A bit later, she asked you to stay the night. You cuddle with her in bed while talking, and you and Lena start to kiss each other. She has her leg on top of you and you two are smiling at each other. Your hand is under her shirt and she has her hand on your cheek and she kisses you again.

✫ ✯ ✬ ✫

It’s starting to get cold in National City because it's December. You and Lena are in a serious relationship and taking it slow. You are happy that you are able to tell her stories about when you used to live on Krypton, she does enjoy the stories.

“You didn't celebrate Christmas on Krypton?” Lena asked.

“No. We didn't have Earth holidays on my planet. When I got to Earth, Eliza introduced us to Earth holidays and I liked Halloween, Christmas, and summer because I got to play with fireworks. Do you have Christmas traditions?” You said.

“No. Mother and Lex are not the types to celebrate holidays to spend time with family. Mother was busy with work and Lex well… he just didn't have much time with me besides playing chess. I was shipped to boarding school and spent the holidays alone” Lena said.

“Oh, well that wasn't fun to spend the holidays alone,” You said.

“I got used to it,” Lena said.

You used your strength to move the tree where she wanted it. Then you and Lena start to decorate the tree together and she is happy that she is with you on the holidays. After decorating the tree, you start to put Christmas decorations on the wall while she puts decorations on the shelves of the fireplace. Then you and Lena started to bake Christmas cookies together.

You are spending more nights at Lena’s condo. She did make space for your clothes and items in the closet and bathroom. She takes a shower and then puts on your hoodie to be warm. She is lying on her side and you are on your side behind her, and you have your arm around her and her fingers go between your fingers.

The next day, you and Lena leave the city for the weekend. She booked a hotel in a small town just to be alone. It started to snow, you decided to convince your girlfriend to build a snowman. You tried to roll a big snowball, but you missed-placed your foot, and you fell on top of the snowball.

“Not funny, Lena,” You said.

“It is funny, that's why I'm laughing” Lena giggled.

She does help you stand up. Then she started to wipe the snow off you then she kissed you on the lips.

“Better?” Lena smiled.

“No” You smiled.

“Let me try again,” Lena said.

She grabbed your scarf and she started to kiss you.

A bit later, after playing in the snow, you and Lena went to a skating rink, she held your hand while skating with you.

“I haven't done this in many years,” Lena said.

“Last time I did it, I was a teenager,” You said.

You stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Lena asked.

“Someone is in trouble, they are yelling for help,” You said.

“Go, I will wait,” Lena said.

“Grab dinner and wait for me at the hotel,” You said.

You kiss her on the lips before she says something, and you quickly leave. You changed into your suit and you went to save a family from almost driving off the cliff. Then someone needed help, their car got stuck on the train tracks and you stayed out for a while saving people. Lena did buy dinner and she headed back to the hotel.

————

Lena planned a toy charity event, people are donating toys and other items to the kids in the hospital. You are taking pictures and you have a Santa hat on your head and a Christmas vest that Lena bought for you. Kara is at the event and sees you sneak away but at first, she doesn't you are following Lena. Kara got curious and started to follow you toward the hallway which was isolated, then she gasped.

“You kissed Lena!” Kara said too loud.

Some of Lena’s lipstick is on your lips.

“Were you following me?” You asked.

“Don’t change the subject. Wait, are you two dating?” Kara said.

“Yes, I’m dating your brother and no one else knows about us,” Lena said.

“This is great. I’m in shock but I’m so happy for you two. Why you didn't tell me?” Kara said.

“I was going to tell you,” You said.

“You can't tell anyone, we have to be professional,” Lena said.

“I won't tell anyone. But they need you to make a speech, go now”’ Kara said.

Lena left to make a speech and you wiped your lips.

“We should head back,” You said.

“You are in love with Lena” Kara teased

“What-… no I’m not in love” You lied.

“Yes, you are. So cute you try to deny it but I know you are in love” Kara giggled.

“I haven't told her yet that I’m in love with her. And she is about my powers but I didn't tell her that you have powers also, but I think she knows about it” You said.

“She is smart, but I think I should tell her. But I’m happy for you, I thought after what happened with your last ex you stopped looking for love” Kara said.

“Lena is different and she isn't just anyone. I told her not to give me special treatment at work but she did buy this watch for me as an early Christmas gift” You said.

You show your sister the watch and she gasped.

“I saw this watch online it cost over ten thousand dollars” Kara gasped.

“I didn't ask for it, she just surprised me with it,” You said.

“You should invite her to meet Eliza for Christmas” Kara smiled.

“Good idea. Mom will like her” You said.

You call Eliza ‘mom’ and Kara just calls her by her first name. You and Kara head back and you start to take pictures of everyone and the gifts for the kids and their families. Much later, you go to Lena’s condo and you invite her to meet Eliza for Christmas and she agrees to go.

“Do you think she will accept our relationship?” Lena asked.

You wrap your arms around her waist and she puts her arms around your shoulders.

“Of course, she will accept you and our relationship. You are beautiful, smart, funny, and caring. I can go on about why she will like you” You smiled.

She kissed you on the lips.

“And you are handsome, funny, a bit nerdy, and smart” Lena smiled.

You kiss her and she doesn't stop smiling.

#lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x male reader #lena luthor x reader #supergirl imagine #x male reader #male reader #male!reader #male reader insert #male reader fanfic #lena luthor fanfiction #Lena Luthor fluff

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604to647 · 9 months ago

Text

Sniffles

1.5K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

A/N: Inspired by @bebsjo’s ask about Tim wanting to take care of Shutterbug when she’s sick. I answered it but couldn’t get the thought out of my brain; thank you for the ask, love - please consider this a more complete answer! 💕

This is our The Rockford Portfolio couple but as always with their stories, can be read as standalone (though there is a relationship milestone in this one 😊).

Summary: You’re sick and you don’t want to give Tim your germs.

Warnings: None! Fluff. Snot. Soft!Tim, established relationship, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous).

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 / Series Masterlist

Tim is just putting the finishing touches on the arrest report for a pair of mid-level Pie henchmen when his cellphone starts to buzz with an incoming call. He picks up upon seeing from the caller ID that it’s you, “Hey Shutterbug.”

“Hey baby,” you croak.

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Baby, are you okay?” Tim stands up, ready to sprint out of his office to get to you.

Laughing at your sweet boyfriend’s reaction to a simple cold, you try to talk him down from the ledge in a soothing, albeit scratchy, tone of voice, “Don’t worry, Detective - it’s just a cold! But I left work early so I wouldn’t spread my germs around. I took some medication and I’m just getting into a bed with a hot cup of tea right now.”

“Can you FaceTime? Need to see you, gorgeous.” Not that he doesn’t believe you, Tim would just feel a lot better getting visual confirmation that you’re all tucked into bed, getting the rest that you need.

Your tired but still cheery face lights up Tim’s phone screen, and he exhales a little sigh of relief to see you already in your pajamas even though it’s still early afternoon, “Do you have everything you need? Soup? Drugs? Tissues? Throat lozenges?”

“I do, Tim – thank you, but baby,” the you on his screen chews your bottom lip and looks at him apologetically, “I don’t think you should come over tonight.”

Tim tilts his head, confused, “What do you mean? Who’s going to take care of you?”

You start to laugh but it immediately devolves into a coughing fit, “I’ll be fine, Detective! It’s just a cold – I’ll take drugs, I’ll sleep, I’ll get better. I don’t know how contagious I am, but I don’t want to get you sick, Tim. I know you. You’ll insist on going to work even when under the weather and you’ll be miserable. While I’m sick you should stay at your place, just to be safe.”

“But-”

“No buts, Detective. It’s not my first cold! I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Tim is about to respond when his Captain peeks her head into his office and gestures with her hand for Tim to follow.

“I gotta go, Shutterbug, but text me if you need anything and I’ll bring it over, okay? Feel better soon, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too, Detective Rockford. Be safe!”

Four days.

You’ve been sick for four days. Tim takes some solace in knowing that you’ve taken the time off work to properly recover, but still… it’s been four days.

After the first night back at his house, Tim takes to sleeping on the couch in his office. Even though the mattress in his master bedroom is indisputably less lumpy, the couch is less depressing. At least his office is something: it’s work. His house constantly reminds Tim of what it is not: it’s not his home. It’s not with you.

Every time you and him talk on FaceTime, you’re decidedly still sick (are you actually getting worse?!) and the tiny bit of hope Tim harbours that he’ll be able to come home to you soon evaporates. He decides not to tell you where he’s been sleeping - you’ll just worry for his back, and then he would have to explain how miserable he is without you and make you feel bad.

Instead, Tim listens as you tell him you took yourself to the doctor to learn that you have the flu, not the cold, and listens at your wheezing laugh at how ironic it is that you had your flu shot scheduled for next week. Tim nods approvingly when you confirm that you’re having groceries and meals delivered and bites his tongue from saying that he could - wants to - do all that for you. He watches as you trudge to the kitchen in your bathrobe with your runny nose and messy hair to make food, and he tells you you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen - because you are. You tell him he’s silly but still give him the biggest smile you can manage in your exhausted and achy state.

You fall asleep every night while still on the phone with Tim as he tells you all about his work day and his current case, lulled to sleep by his soothing baritone voice. Even after you’ve nodded off, Tim doesn’t hang up right away – partially to make sure your breathing doesn't get too laboured through your stuffed up nose, but mainly so he can look upon your peaceful visage for a little while longer. He misses you so much.

By night five of sleeping without you pressed up against his chest, Tim has had enough. After work he makes stops at the grocery store and pharmacy before heading to your place. Laden down with bags full of soup and frozen lasagna, cold medication, ice packs, a new hot water bottle, cough drops, plus one plushie (something called a "Squishmallow"? Its "bio" on the tag says she’s a nurse) among other supplies, Tim turns his key in the lock of your apartment for the first time in nearly a week. Immediately, he’s hit with the familiar scent of your perfume and the peppermint of the tea you’re currently making; he knows you're in the kitchen just from the soft shuffling and sniffles he hears - all of it a comfort to his senses.

Now all he has to do is see you and hold you and he can finally feel complete.

At first you think you’re hallucinating when your big, burly detective appears in the doorway of the kitchen. You must be sicker than you thought - or maybe you accidentally took an extra dose of flu medication? But the strong, thick arms that wrap around you feel real. And the rough hands that cradle and massage your head feel soothing. You melt right into that hard but cushiony chest despite not being 100% sure it isn’t a figment of your fever addled imagination.

“Whhhharrhwudoongnhrrrrtm?” you mumble.

Petting your hair indulgently, Tim chuckles, “Want to say that again, Shutterbug?”

You tilt your head back to look sleepily at your handsome boyfriend, “What are you doing here, Tim?”

“I’m here to take care of you, baby,” Tim says matter-of-factly, “You’re not getting well fast enough for my liking – I’m missing you too much.”

You melt a little at Tim’s puppy dog look, but sigh, “Baby, I miss you so much, too. But if you’re here, you could get sick.”

Tim presses a soft kiss to your hot forehead, “Shutterbug, when we live together, we won’t be able to escape the other person when one of us is sick.”

Your gasp transitions into a cough and you have to wait until your throat clears before you ask, astounded, “You want to live with me? Even with all this snot?”

Tim nods as if to say, even with all this snot, adding, “Only if you want, Shutterbug.”

You wonder how long he’s been thinking about this, “When were you thinking would be the right time for you to move in?”

Very aware that you haven’t actually agreed to live with him, Tim answers with truthful, but carefully chosen words, “I’m ready whenever, if ever, you’re ready, baby.”

You look up at Tim wide-eyed, trying to make sure that he means it - that he’s serious about taking this next step in your relationship; when you see nothing but eagerness in the softness of his eyes and the steadiness in his bright, reassuring smile, you throw your arms around Tim’s neck, germs be damned, “I’m ready, Detective!! As soon as I’m better, please move all your stuff in!”

Tim hugs you back tighter than he probably should - absolutely over the moon that he’s never going to have to leave your side again, that he and the woman he loves are going to make a home together. So lost in his own reverie, he’s jolted back when you let out a whimper of pain, “Oh fuck, Shutterbug, did I hurt you?”

Shaking your head, you’re still beaming at your considerate boyfriend, “No, I’m just achy all over, all the time. You could never hurt me, Tim.” You genuinely believe this with all your heart.

“How about I run you a bath with these bath salts I bought and you have a nice warm soak while the lasagna heats up?” offers Tim.

“Will you sit with me while I’m in the bath, Detective?”

“Of course, gorgeous.”

“And we can make plans for the big move in?” You grin, eyes twinkling - you haven’t felt this energized in days.

“Nothing I would like more, baby,” Tim smiles as he hands you the plushie cat he bought you, grinning even wider when you squeal with excitement and crush the stuffed animal to your chest in elation.

You titter with happiness, grabbing Tim’s hand to lead him towards the bedroom. But when he doesn’t come readily, you turn back and to your confusion, you see Tim wincing, the hand not in yours reaching behind to press against his lower back as he arches in a painful stretch.

Eyes narrowing, you place the hand that’s still clutching Cassie the Nurse on your hip and tilt your head suspiciously, “Timothy. Where have you been sleeping?”

Btw this is Cassie the Nurse:

#Tim rockford #Tim rockford fic #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fic: The Rockford Portfolio

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demigodsanswer · 4 months ago

Note

What's the new au???

It's another modern/non-demigod au, with Tattoo Artist! Annabeth, who is also a single mom working hard to coparent her five year-old. The story starts when she meets her friend/mentor's cousin, who's only just moved back the New York City after getting Ph.D. out in California.

Here's a bit of the draft. Not sure if this will ever actually be something I finish though.

There were already a few people lined up on the sidewalk when Annabeth stepped through the door. Sundays were walk-in days at Electric Tattoo, but it was first come, first serve. She still had half an hour before she needed to serve anyone though.

Electric was a basic street shop that boasted artists who could probably work somewhere more impressive, but didn’t have the energy to deal with the Instagram of it all. Annabeth herself had a decent following, and her books were usually full, but she still appreciated the spontaneity of a walk-in. And Sunday’s were good money. Sophia spent the day with her father, and Annabeth spent the day sticking needles in strangers.

She’d built a pretty robust portfolio in the last few years; she could do just about anything. Geographic tattoos and linework were her favorite though; it was the closest she got to using the architecture degree she finished mostly out of spite in the end. But she’d always like the drafting process, even if she couldn't stand her internships or the industry in the end.

At least, as a tattoo artist, she got to stab the shitty men she dealt with with needles.

“I booked your six o’clock spot already,” Thalia said to her before anything else.

“Good morning,” Annabeth said back. “Who is it?”

“My cousin. I’d do it, but you know how I feel about doing family,” Thalia said. Annabeth didn’t know why she phrased it like that, but she wasn’t in the mood to tease her about it. “I’ve told you about him, I think? Percy? Lived out in Berkeley?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Probably, but I don’t remember,” she said as she walked over to their shitty coffee maker -- the machine and the coffee it produced were sub-par, but it would do.

“You’ll like him,” Thalia promised.

“Last time you set me up with someone you thought I’d really like, I didn’t fall in love, and I got pregnant,” Annabeth reminded her.

“I told you to abort the little crotch goblin,” Thalia teased.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “That crotch goblin is your goddaughter.”

“And I love her very much,” Thalia promised.

Thalia had been her mentor through her tattoo apprenticeship, and then, a fast friend. And for all of her jokes, she was a reliable aunt and baby sitter for Annabeth’s now-five year-old.

Really, Annabeth needed the distraction of a Sunday walk-in day. Sophia spent Saturdays with her father, slept at his house, and didn’t get dropped off to her again until six thirty Sunday night. It wasn’t even a full forty-eight hours, but Annabeth spent just about every Saturday night missing her, whether she stayed home or went out.

She wiped down her station, got her ink, tools, and stencils ready. And then she checked her phone again. Nothing from Luke. Not that she was worried. He was a good and responsible father. But she appreciated a photo here and there, an update.

Annabeth decided to just text him instead: “I have a 6pm, bring her to electric”

Luke just thumbs up reacted.

Things between them had never been particularly romantic. A few okay dates, and some decent sex had really been the extent of it. Until Sophia made herself known to Annabeth a few weeks later.

Annabeth knew she didn’t exactly look like a mom, with arms and legs covered in tattoos, a piercing in her eyebrow, and an undercut (really, her hair was simply too thick to deal with in its entirety), but she had always wanted a baby. And this one was hers. She didn’t expect Luke to want to coparent or be around at all. He made things easier -- financially especially -- but …

Well, there wasn’t really a but. That was what annoyed her so deeply. They could be the perfect family. Mom and Dad just didn’t love each other. Luke had proposed to her when she told him. But Annabeth had just laughed and turned him down. It was more stable for Sophia this way. The less time they spent together, the less likely they were to hate each other in the end.

But Annabeth still looked forward to six thirty.

Thankfully, no one asked her to tattoo any genitals today. Closest she got was some side boob -- laurel wreaths, one on each tit. They came out pretty nice. She might have stolen the idea for herself if her tits still sat up like her client’s did. Breastfeeding had left her flatter than she was used to. But at least she could usually go braless these days.

Annabeth cleared off her bench, disinfecting the surfaces and the equipment as Thalia’s voice got louder and closer to her.

“I can have Hazel re-pierce your ear, if you want,” Thalia offered, tugging on some man’s ear.

“Ow,” he complained. Annabeth stood still and looked at him. He must have been the cousin. Percy, she remembered. He looked more like Thalia than her brother did -- dark hair, strong jaw, just a few inches taller than her, and devastating green eyes.

“This is Annabeth,” Thalia said, gesturing towards her. Annabeth gave a small wave. “She’ll be ruining your arm today.”

Annabeth laughed, insulted. “You taught me. If you think my work is that bad, it’s your fault.”

“It’s not about your work,” Thalia promised. “This idiot,” she pointed to the man, “lost a bet and now gets whatever dumb tattoo my brother picks out.”

“I’m hoping he’s kind to me,” Percy said.

Annabeth forced a smile and looked at Thalia. “I really don’t want to give you a tattoo you don’t want,” she said.

“Bets a bet,” Thalia said.

“It’s really no worries,” Percy said.

“Is it your first tattoo?” Annabeth asked.

“Nope,” he promised her. Then he rolled up his tee shirt sleeve to reveal his shoulder. It was covered in dark linework of waves, with a ship on the sea. The lines were incredibly clean, but for a moment, Annabeth panicked. It was shaded in with reds and purples that for a moment made her think it was painfully infected.

It didn’t take long for her to realize it wasn’t infected at all. It was a very well-healed image of --

“The wine dark sea?” She guessed.

“Yeah!” Percy said. “Thalia told me you were smart.”

“She went to Harvard,” Thalia offered for her.

“Smart enough not to bet on a tattoo,” Annabeth said to him. Well, anymore.

Thalia walked back to her station, leaving Annabeth and Percy relatively alone. Frank had a man on his bench next to her, but they weren’t talking.

“It’s really okay,” Percy promised her. “I knew I was going to lose.”

“What was the bet?” She asked, inviting Percy to sit on the bench while they waited for Jason to make up his mind.

“I’m working on my first book, he just finished his dissertation. Race to the finish. He was way ahead of me, though, just needed a final push to finish before his funding ran out. So, I figured I could sacrifice my forearm to keep him on track,” Percy explained.

Annabeth asked a few more questions and Percy offered answers. He and his cousin were both classicists, he was Greek, Jason was Roman. Jason was at NYU, Percy had been out at UCLA, but then did a postdoc at UC Berkeley. But he’d finally gotten a job at Hunter College. He’d only just moved last week.

“Are you from California?” Annabeth asked. Jason had finally made up his mind, they’d gotten the paperwork signed, and now Annabeth was applying the stencil. SPQR. Easy enough.

“No, no, from New York, although,” he pointed to the New York Yankees logo she’d tattooed on herself just above the knee, “a Mets fan.”

“I really don’t have strong allegiances. I just did this to piss off my Bostonian family more,” Annabeth said.

“Rebellious,” Percy teased. “Thalia told me you’re from San Francisco?”

Annabeth nodded. “Well, sort of. The family is from Boston, but my dad is also a professor. I grew up near West Point, then we moved to Berkeley when I was thirteen.” She pulled the stencil paper away. It looked straight. “There, check out if you like the placement.”

Percy examined it in the mirror, twisting his arm in different positions to make sure he liked it.

“Yeah, looks great!” He said, laying back down. “So, wait, your dad teaches at Berkeley?”

Annabeth nodded. “History department. Twentieth century military stuff, though, you probably wouldn’t have --”

“Is your dad Fred Chase?”

Annabeth pressed her lips together to hold back a sigh before saying, “the one and only.”

“He’s a …” Percy paused, studying her face to see what he should say about him, “very boring man,” Percy said. Annabeth laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, all research, no fun,” Annabeth confirmed.

Percy was looking at her in a new way, like he was trying to piece something together. “You’re his only daughter?”

“Yep,” Annabeth confirmed. His eyes glanced at her chest, and Annabeth knew he figured it out. Her daughter’s name, the first three letters at least, poked through the V neck of her black tee shirt. “He’s mentioned me?” She asked.

“Oh yeah. I mean, I haven’t talked to him a lot, but I mentioned I was from New York. He said he had a daughter and grandkid in the city.”

Annabeth nodded. “Sophia.”

“Where is Sophia today?” Percy asked.

“With her father,” Annabeth said, trying to communicate through tone that Sophia’s father was not someone Annabeth was romantically attached to. “He’ll bring her around later,” and then for good measure, “he gets her on weekends.”

Percy nodded, and then got comfortable, offering her his arm. “He gets her all weekend? Nights too?”

Annabeth turned on the tattoo gun and picked up some ink. “Yeah, why?”

“Just … if you’re single --” the needle made contact and shut him up.

“You’ll still need to pay for the tattoo even if you ask me out,” she said with a teasing smile.

Percy relaxed a bit as he got used to the sensation. Annabeth had it on good authority that she was a very gentle tattooer, actually. Men were just babies.

“Yeah, I assumed,” Percy assured her. “Do you date? I mean, are you single?”

“Am single, and I guess I date.” Truth be told, she didn’t date often. But she wasn’t opposed. Her arrangement with Luke would easily allow for a date here and there, she just … hadn’t dated much. Even before Sophia. Thirty in one month, she wasn’t exactly itching to join dating apps.

“Cool,” Percy said as she finished the first pass on the S. “Are you free next weekend?”

Annabeth smiled. “Let me finish this tattoo and then you can decide if you ever want to see me again,” she said.

As always, her linework was clean, and the tattoo sat straight on his forearm.

“How much?” Percy asked, after it was sanitized and wrapped.

“One hundred,” Annabeth said. It should have been closer to $120, but she’d give him a friends and family discount. Percy handed her his card.

Annabeth turned to the register.

“So your daughter --” Percy started. Annabeth didn’t look up from what she was doing, worried about what he might say or what her face might reveal. “She’s what? Five?”

“Yeah, she turned five in April.”

“Blonde?”

“So, so blonde,” Annabeth said with a faint smile.

“Big fan of Beauty and the Beast?”

Annabeth looked at him. “Did my dad talk about her that much or are you psychic?” She asked.

Percy just pointed to the window. Six thirty.

Luke was holding their daughter as Sophia waved her arms around, trying to get Annabeth’s attention. She was in a new Belle dress up dress. Annabeth had to appreciate that Luke doted on their daughter, but it was hard not to resent him. He got to be the fun gift-giving weekend parent, while Annabeth was stuck with the bath time, nap time, daycare, chores parent. Sophia was starting Kindergarten in the fall. Soon Annabeth would be the homework parent too.

But her building resentments fled her for a moment. She put Percy’s card down and walked quickly towards the front door. Thalia had locked it at six after the last clients had come in for the day.

“Hello beautiful,” Annabeth said as Luke handed Sophia over. She was starting to get too big to be picked up, but Annabeth was still doing her best. “I’m just finishing up,” she said to both of them, letting them inside.

Percy and Luke seemed to recognize each other, and offered some warm words.

“It’s been a while,” Percy said, glancing at Sophia, then back at Luke.

“What? They don’t have Facebook out in California?” Luke asked him, as if to say this wasn’t a secret.

“You know I don’t bother with all that,” Percy said. But Annabeth thought he looked a bit guilty and apologetic for missing … all of this.

“Can I see your tattoo?” Sophia said, pulling on Percy’s shorts leg. Percy squatted down to her height and held out his arm. Sophia stared at it for a second before announcing: “That’s not a word!”

Percy just laughed as Annabeth told her daughter to be polite, before adding, “really good reading, though.” Sophia beamed.

“It’s Latin,” Percy explained, offering her the meaning in Latin then English. Sophia seemed genuinely inspired by the new information, and Annabeth wondered if she’d, despite it all, birthed a tiny scholar.

When he finished his explanation, though, there was a long awkward silence between the three adults as Sophia ran off to find Hazel.

Percy started to excuse himself, realizing that he was the odd man out now. He signed his name on the receipt, leaving Annabeth a more than generous tip. She watched him try to shield the receipt from Luke as he wrote his phone number for her. She hoped this wasn’t some bro code nonsense. Legally, Luke had partial custody of their daughter; he did not have authority over her Saturday nights.

“See you next Saturday?” Annabeth asked as Percy started to leave.

He looked sheepishly at her, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, let me know what works?” He said before leaving her alone with Luke.

“You’re going out with him?” Luke asked as he handed over Sophia’s bag.

“Maybe,” Annabeth said, tucking the receipt into her pocket.

“I mean, I’m fine with it. It just … he’s a college professor,” Luke said.

“What, you think I’m not smart enough for a college professor?”

“No, I think your dad is a college professor,” Luke said.

“Don’t be an asshole,” she warned. “How was she this weekend?”

“Great,” Luke said. “She read a bunch of books to me, we watched Beauty and the Beast twice, and we went to the park. No accidents, no injuries, no melt downs.”

That was her girl. She was a bit injury-prone, as she inherited some of Annabeth’s impulsive fearlessness, but otherwise she was a smart, well-behaved girl. She was more than Annabeth thought she deserved.

“Great, and the dress?” Annabeth asked.

“Couldn’t help it. It was too cute,” Luke said. “It makes her happy.”

“I’m not mad about it,” Annabeth promised. “Thank you. It’s sweet. I’ll be in touch about next week. Her Pre-K graduation is on Thursday, don’t forget,” Annabeth said.

“Don’t worry, we also practiced singing ‘God Bless America,’” Luke said. The Pre-K kids were all singing that during the ceremony.

“Well, I still need to clean up here. Feel free to hang out, or take off, whatever,” Annabeth said.

Luke said hi to Thalia, goodbye to Sophia, and goodbye to Annabeth and was gone within a few minutes. “I need to talk to you about something this week,” Luke said. “An idea I had. A surprise for Sophie.”

Annabeth nodded. “Alright, call me whenever,” she said, waving him off.

“Tell Percy I said hello,” were his last words to her before leaving the shop.

Annabeth found Sophia in the back with Hazel, who was marking where Sophia would get her ears pierced with a marker. Annabeth told her she had to be seven to get her ears pierced, but she still insisted on getting the little purple dots on her ears every time she saw Hazel.

“Ready to go, nugget?” Annabeth asked. Sophia nodded and got Hazel’s help getting out of the big chair. “Say thank you,” Annabeth reminded her.

Bay Ridge was decently close to the shop, and not too far from Park Slope where Luke lived, but it was still a long way on the R train. Sophia spent the entire ride asking Annabeth a series of ear-piercing related questions that Annabeth answered honestly, logically, and with as little audible annoyance as she could manage.

But three stops from home, Annabeth suggested they play the quiet game. Her daughter was as competitive as she was smart, and stayed quiet the rest of the ride.

Annabeth’s first words were: “Come on,” when the subway pulled into their stop, and Sophia’s first words were a boastful: “Ha! I win!”

“Princesses don’t brag,” Annabeth said, taking her hand. That might have been a lie. She had no idea what princesses did or didn’t do.

When they finally got back home, Annabeth popped some chicken nuggets in the airfryer, got some steam-in-bag veggies out of the freezer, and wrestled a tiny human out of her new princess dress.

“Come on, you don’t want to get food on it,” Annabeth said as Sophia pouted.

After many chicken nuggets, and a reluctant forkful of vegetables came the bath. Then the bedtime story. Then tucking her in. And kissing her goodnight.

“Love you to the moon and back, sweetie,” Annabeth told her.

“Can I wear my Belle dress to school tomorrow?” Sophia asked.

“No, but I promise you can put it on as soon as you get home, okay?” Annabeth offered.

“Okay.”

“Good night,” Annabeth said.

“Night night,” Sophia offered back.

Annabeth shut her door. It was only nine. A bit late for her bedtime, but Sophia wanted a few extra chapters of The Hobbit, and Annabeth did love that book.

Annabeth unpacked her weekend bag. Sophia’s favorite toys had already come out of it, and her favorite blanket. All that was left were the dirty clothes. One outfit was shoved in a plastic bag, covered in brown goo. Annabeth groaned.

“For fucks sake, Luke --” He’d told her no accidents. Sophia had never even had a poopy accident before. She barely had accidents at all. How long had he ignored her for her to --

Mud, it was mud, she realized when she opened the bag. Sophia had somehow gotten covered in mud. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders relax.

Annabeth took out her phone and texted him anyway.

Annabeth

You could have told me about the muddy clothes

Luke

Shit, sorry, I forgot.

Happened this morning.

She jumped off the swings and landed in a puddle

I keep telling her not to do that

She typed out: no reason to leave it for me to clean but deleted it, in no mood to start a fight.

Annabeth

I know, I keep telling her too.

Maybe we take swings away from her until she stops next time

Luke

I don’t want to be the bad guy

Annabeth

You think I do? I’m proposing a united effort here. I just need to know you’ll back me up.

Luke

Alright, I will.

She just went to the bathroom and dropped the dirty clothes in the shower and started to rinse them out. Her apartment had a washer and dryer, one of two blessings in her life (Sophia, of course, the first one), but she didn’t need it getting covered in Brooklyn mud. She let that wash down the drain.

With the clothes rinsed she started the wash, stripping off her own clothes from the day to throw in with them.

Her hand slipped into her pockets, checking to make sure she didn’t wash another pair of headphones. She found Percy's receipt. She smiled. She typed the phone number into her contacts, before putting the receipt in her bag. The shop would actually need that to charge him and make sure she got her tip.

Annabeth

Hey, it’s Annabeth

He’d texted back by the time she got out of the shower.

Percy

Hey!

Annabeth

I’ll be honest, I was hoping for a better pick up line

Percy

Shit, okay hold on let me think of one

How about: you are an SPQ-T?

Annabeth

It’ll do

They didn’t talk much. She asked about his tattoo; he confirmed their dinner plans. He asked about Sophia, if she had a good weekend, that sort of thing.

Percy

She’s adorable. Looks just like you

Except blank

Annabeth laughed.

Annabeth

She’s constantly in trouble at school for drawing on her arms and her friends’ arms.

Percy

She’ll be a great artist one day I’m sure

Annabeth

Her dream career is artist princess mommy

That’s exactly what she’ll tell you if you ask

Percy

Not a bad collection of jobs

Annabeth finally asked the question she did need an answer for before anything else went forward.

Annabeth

Do you like kids?

Percy

I love kids

Can’t wait for my own honestly

Annabeth

So you’re alright with me having a kid?

Percy

Yeah for sure

It’s not like she’s going anywhere anyway. Wouldn’t have asked you out if it wasn’t okay.

Annabeth

Were you and Luke close growing up?

Percy

Eh, he was always Thalia’s friend. He mostly tried to pressure me into stealing candy and shit.

Us going out wouldn’t be weird to me

Is it weird for him?

Annabeth

He hasn’t really said anything about it

Percy

Is it weird for you?

Annabeth

Percy

Good, that’s all that matters to me 😁

#percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #percabeth #thalia grace #admittedly light on the percabeth #tattoo au #my writing

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 2 years ago

Note

Hey love, I got a question; are you down for goblins? Specifically a yandere horde of goblins? 😳

I'm not not down for it...

(I'm sorry, I'm sure I know what kind of goblin horde you meant, buuuut I started writing and couldn't stop 🥲)

CW: Entrapment, obsessive behavior, ecological polyandry/polygyny with a GN!reader, both male and female goblins, forced parental responsibilities, platonic yandere, not proofread

Madame Gilly burst into the backroom, nearly startling (Reader) into swallowing the pins they were holding in their lips. "(Reader)! Awful, amazing, terrible, fantastic news!"

(Reader) smiled nervously, sticking the pins in their cushion. "What is it, Madame?" Their boss was fabulously dramatic as always, fanning herself with a decorated envelope.

"Oh, nothing.. just a summons for one Mx. (Reader) from the Count's daughter."

"What for?"

"How should I know? I didn't read your letter!" She handed over the letter while sighing loudly. "Yet, it's so beautifully decorated.. such a shame! Another marriage proposal, ignored!" She pretended to become faint, placing her knuckles on her forehead.

(Reader) chuckled, opening the bright purple envelope with lavender tied in a ribbon. Their eyes widened, an excited gasp escaped as their legs failed them and they fell back onto their stool.

"What is it?!"

"It's.." a shocked blush dusted their cheeks, "it's a request for my services! She wants a dress for an upcoming party!"

Madame Gilly squealed, bouncing up and grabbing her protege. "Oh, that's even better than a proposal! I'm so proud of you!"

It would be roughly three days ride by carriage, packed with smaller fabrics for color swatches and texture explanation, multiple dresses (Reader) had already made with mannequins to display them, and (Reader's) portfolio of designs.

Marcus, a local man who often rode Madame Gilly around for a small fee, offered up his services, just as excited for (Reader) as the Madame. "So, this is your lucky break, huh?" He offered a hand to the young employee. "Finally gonna start considering opening your own shop."

(Reader) smiled, stepping into the carriage without Marcus' assistance. "I've never been interested in business, Marcus, you know this. I just want to make clothes."

"You should also seriously begin considering marriage.."

"My work is my legacy, Marcus." (Reader) spoke sharply with a tight smile, shutting down the conversation. They had received many marriage proposals from eligible bachelors and bachelorettes since they became of age, but didn't take an interest in any of them. Of course, (Reader) found people attractive in the past, but never felt emotionally invested in anyone to marry them, and they certainly didn't need to marry for money or connections. The thought of having children one day was also something (Reader) had seriously debated, because although the fantasy of having a child was wonderful, the process of having a baby was intimidating. Whether through being impregnated or impregnating someone else, the baby stage was much more terrifying than the raising of a child, for reasons they couldn't quite explain. The anxiety was just too much to handle.

But (Reader) didn't feel like life was passing them by, nor did they have regrets, if they ever got married then their future spouse would wait for them, no matter how many years it took to meet them.

Marcus closed the door, and (Reader) deflated, thankful that he took the hint and ended the conversation.

The change between the road and the dirt path could be felt and it made (Reader) almost wish that they had worn a dress instead of pants, just for the added cushion on their rear end.

The first day went smoothly, and boringly, (Reader) had nothing to do but think, and the night was uncomfortable, even cocooned in their blanket. But it was the next day that everything went wrong. (Reader) never saw what happened, but suddenly the carriage careened off the path and tumbled down a cliff, crashing through the woods of the mountain side.

(Reader's) entire body became airborne in the carriage, slamming their head into the ceiling, barely giving them enough time to protect their neck with their arms before being thrown like a ragdoll, not feeling any immediate pain due to the rush of adrenaline. It happened so quickly, their balled up body bouncing five times against the walls and roof before landing bottom up on the escarpment.

Out of the shattered window, (Reader) saw Marcus lying motionlessly in a tree a good distance from the carriage. They pulled their body right side up, slowly becoming aware of the stinging pain across their body. Especially their leg. Blood soaked through their right pant leg, and (Reader) couldn't bend it. It was only the second day of their journey, so it would take two days until the Duke realized something was wrong, that the journey was taking too long, and sent out a search party, which would take a day to get to the road they fell off of. Would they even notice the tire marks? And if they did, would they risk the people to search for them?

(Reader) sighed, closing their eyes. There was no point in dwelling on what ifs. (Reader) was resigned to their fate.

"I wonder what will happen first.. Starving to death, or being eaten by a wild animal." They chuckled humorlessly. With nothing to do but wait for the inevitable (Reader) fell asleep, but that was possibly a concussion.

"There's something in there."

"A dead something."

Little voices whispered outside the wreckage, rousing (Reader) from their brain injured slumber. Eyes watched them from the broken window of the door, hiding themselves from view.

"I won't bite." (Reader) offered a smile, hoping whoever was watching them wouldn't be frightened off.

A childish gasp escaped, as one of the spies scampered off. "I thought you said it was dead!" It hollered into the woods.

The child left shuffled their feet in the leaves, debating. "You promise you won't?"

"I promise."

A tiny little thing dressed in rags popped her chubby cheeked head into view, large pointy ears almost drooping under their own weight stuck out from black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her hair framed a green skinned face, making it obvious that the little girl was a goblin. She rung the front of her oversized shirt with her hands nervously.

"Hello." (Reader) cocked their head to the side in a mock bow, back and head in too much pain to attempt an actual greeting. The smile on their lips didn't leave.

"Hello.." The child mumbled in a timid way, copying (Reader's) head tilt.

"My name is (Reader). May I ask for your name?" (Reader) spoke in a low voice to appear as kind and non threatening as possible.

She took a small step forward, entering the little window without needing to duck. "My name is Vix Ix, but my brother calls me Beetle Hands."

"Why does he call you that?"

"Because I'm the best beetle catcher. At least, in my tribe." Vix Ix sat down cross legged just out of (Reader's) reach. Her large eyes wandered over (Reader's) form, mesmerized by their clothing. "What are you doing down here?"

"I had an accident. I was traveling to go meet with a potential client. I make clothes." (Reader) added that last part, seeing how the little girl's eyes sparkled while staring at the intricate needlework on their vest.

"Did you make that?" Vix Ix pointed a finger curiously at the top.

"Yes, I did. Would you like to see more of my work?" The tiny child nodded excitedly. The reaction was very human, and very adorable. "Everything may have.. scattered in the fall. But there should be a chest with a black lock, and a worn painting of a dove above it's latch. If you can find that", (Reader) fished through their pocket for a key and held it out to Vix Ix, "you can see a few of the dresses I brought for my client to look at."

Vix Ix grabbed the key, forgetting to be frightened. She ran back out of the wreckage, and (Reader) laughed, enjoying being able to bring wonder to a child in what (Reader) thought was their final moments.

They had heard so many rumors about goblins, so many stories, ranging from awful tales of mindless gnome sized trolls that murdered anything that breathed, to intelligent little creatures unfairly exterminated because of their annoying love of tricks and pranks. Sunlight glinted off of the broken shards of glass, reflecting into (Reader's) eye. How long had I been asleep? From their spot in the trees, they couldn't tell if it was midday or sunset.

Twigs snapped as the goblinette ran at full speed back to (Reader), out of breath and clutching a sparkly purple dress with butterflies embroidered at the hem line. "You made this?!"

"Hahaha! Yes I did. Do you like it?"

She was practically on the verge of tears. "It's beautiful! Is your client a princess?" Her voice was full of awe.

"The daughter of a Duke." The child waddled over, tripping on the bundle of dress in her arms, and sat much closer to (Reader) than she had earlier.

"It's so pretty!" Green fingers rubbed the fabric lovingly.

An idea came to (Reader) as they saw the joy in Vix Ix's face as she gripped the dress tightly. "You know.. I also had my sewing kit with me. If you can find that, I can trim up this dress for you."

Eyes wide with shock, her ears bounced like she had just been slapped, and asked in horror "You would cut up this dress?!"

Surprised, (Reader) felt their heart melt a little. "My leg is broken." Vix Ix looked down, and seemed startled by the blood. "I don't think there's any way the Duke's men are going to find me. So, I would have to cut off a lot of this dress to fit you, but I'd rather it be worn, then rot away in a trunk."

Tears began to drip down the little kid's cheeks, puffed up in an attempt to stop herself from crying. "I'll go find your sewing kit." She ran back out, sniffling loudly.

The moon rose high into the sky, and Hog Nose, a scrawny little boy who had an upturned button nose unlike any of the goblins in his tribe, held his ears as he was reprimanded by one of the tribe's strongest. Their tribe was small, and unusual. Decades ago their family began from a group of defectors, mostly women escaping their own tribes, wanting to create a community where they could flourish. Despite never attacking humans or causing mischief they suffered many casualties at the hands of adventurers, slaughtering them before they had the chance to explain themselves, forcing them to defend themselves. This left their family broken and impoverished. But they never gave in to "their nature" by stealing from travelers, an attempt to prove that goblins are not born evil.

"And you left Beetle Hands alone, possibly with a human?" Keegraul loudly asked incredulously.

Hog Nose whimpered, afraid of being punished and fearful for his sister. Keegraul grabbed a large dagger, almost a short sword in the young child's hands.

"She still isn't back yet, so lead the way."

The woods were dangerous at night, not only because of wild animals like mountain lions, but because of monsters that had slowly been migrating closer towards the goblins' home. Hog Nose shook as he led Keegraul through the trees, worried to find his sister hurt, or worse.

But what they found instead was that sound of laughter, emanating from a broken carriage connected to a dead horse with another corpse stuck in a tree nearby. Confused, Hog Nose ran to pile of broken wood, rushing past Keegraul who tried to stop him, knife ready for a fight.

"Beetle Hands!" He called out, not knowing what to expect, but surprised by what he found. His sister, wearing human clothing, with an injured human still fixing the bottom of the skirt.

"Hog Nose? What are you doing here?" She seemed genuinely confused, having had so much fun with her new human friend that she hadn't realized the time, standing in the dim light of (Reader's) lamp.

"I'm here to save you?"

Keegraul poked his head in after Hog Nose, curious as to the commotion. That's when the scarred man who had fought many battles with many adventurers, who never once met a human who treated him or his kin as equals, made eye contact with an exhausted person, pale from blood loss, fighting through their pain and fatigue, to make a dress for a little goblin girl. At least, that's what it looked like.

"What's going on here?" Keegraul meant to ask, but it came out as more of a demand.

Worried that they had offended him, (Reader) held up their hands. But Vix Ix beamed up at him, her large toothy grin radiating childish wonder. "(Reader's) making me a princess!"

"Oh, are they?" Keegraul released the tension he had been holding. The air smelled like blood, and at first he thought it was from the human's dead companions outside, but their broken leg was hard to miss. "It looks like they're dying."

Vix Ix ceased her bouncing, turning a terrified eye to (Reader). "Are you dying?"

(Reader) sent a quick glare to the adult goblin before shifting back to their comforting smile. "My leg just hurts, sweetheart. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Not if you don't get that taken care of." The goblin retorted, stepping closer and bending down to get a better look. He let out a noise of frustration. "I can't see anything but blood with these pants on."

Rough hands with broken nails peeled (Reader's) pants off, pausing whenever they sucked on their teeth in pain. The bone right beneath their knee was protruding from from it's flesh.

"That's a nasty break all right."

"Can you fix it?" The little boy goblin asked, still shaking from earlier, but now cradling his blade like a doll.

Delirious from exhaustion, (Reader) turned their smile to him. "What's your name?"

"Craak, or Hog Nose."

They could feel themselves about to pass out. "Hognose? That's my favorite snake. Cutest little snake I've ever seen.." Keegraul tightened their torn pants around their thigh, waking them up with the shooting pain.

(Reader) hissed, incapable of audibly screaming. "We should take you back to the hole, so that we can get that leg fixed up."

Vix Ix stood tall, arms straight in the air, with a determined look on her face. "You can lean on me!"

Keegraul sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'll find you a large stick for a crutch, and you can lean on my head for support." Vix Ix followed him, arguing about who got to support (Reader) on their journey, while Hog Nose stood shyly, still watching (Reader) with a small grin. "Did you mean that?"

(Reader) felt feverish, and couldn't focus their eyes. "Of course. You mean.. the snakes right? Never seen a cuter snake." Their breathing was labored, pausing between words awkwardly.

There was an odd blue tint forming on his baby cheeks, but it dissipated with the arrival of his little sister. "WE FOUND A STICK!"

The goblins all stared at the human receiving medical attention, gobsmacked. Everyone was incredibly interested in seeing who was special enough to be brought home by Keegraul. Especially the children, who were entranced by the dress (Reader) fixed up for Beetle Hands.

"Are you a princess?" A young girl asked, practically glowing.

"Haha no."

"Oh. Are you a prince?"

"Alright! Everyone go to bed!" Keegraul shooed the goblins back to the sleeping room. They all went back except a woman and Vix Ix. The lady seemed embarrassed, hiding herself by crossing her arms.

"You made this?"

"Yes. I have more dresses and fabric in the woods."

Her eyebrows were knit in what looked to be anger. "Why did you make a dress for Beetle Hands?"

"I just tailored it for her. Because she thought it was pretty."

"Yeah, but why?"

(Reader) smiled, understanding that the goblins must be suspicious of them. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

Vix Ix spun around, bumping into the other goblin. "I do!"

Her face softened. "You really think she's pretty?"

"Of course?" The goblin turned blue, like Hog Nose had earlier, and shuffled away.

(Reader) would later learn that her name was Reassa, and she warmed up to (Reader) quickly as they recuperated. In fact, all of the goblin tribe were incredibly welcoming to (Reader) to the family. They helped (Reader) between rooms, and generally fawned over them. As thanks for saving their life, (Reader) worked on reworking the dresses and fabrics the goblins found near the crash site into outfits for everyone. But as (Reader) got better, the goblins became more nervous.

"Are you thinking of leaving?" Keegraul wrung his hat in his hands, big sad eyes staring at (Reader) pleadingly.

"I'm sure my boss thinks I'm dead. It would be good to return home, and contact Marcus' family about his fate. But worry not, I won't tell anyone about you or the tribe." (Reader) smiled, practicing standing on their healing leg.

"That's not why I ask." (Reader) cocked their head, confused. "We trust you- I trust you. I know you wouldn't betray us. We- we'll just miss you."

Vix Ix popped out from behind a stack of boxes, knocking (Reader) to the ground, sobbing. "You're not leaving!"

Keegraul's heart broke. "Beetle -"

"No! Ti aim kahl, pen! (Reader's) not leaving!"

Reassa listened from outside the hole, along with three other women. They didn't understand. Didn't they make their love for (Reader) obvious enough? The flowers they would weave into crowns for them, the poems they world write for them..

One of the younger women started crying, head in her hands, choking on her sobs. Something dark grew in Reassa's chest, a feeling she often tried to force away, to prove to the world that they were wrong about goblins. A darkness, a possessiveness. "Maybe we should keep (Reader) here."

"We can't keep them against their will. They aren't a prisoner."

Reassa punched the entrance to their hollow, clenching her jaw tightly. "I love them."

"So do we.. but, what can we do?"

Hog Nose dropped a basket of vegetables. He had returned earlier than the other children. "Did you just say (Reader) is leaving?"

"Hog Nose! I'm so sorry, when did you get here?"

"I don't want them to leave!"

"I know, baby, but there's nothing-"

Hog Nose pulled out his dagger from it's sheath, rubbing his thumb across the beautiful golden vest (Reader) had made him as he did so. "(Reader) never learned our language."

"What?"

"What if the woods are too dangerous for them to go home? Because of the kahn piers?" The women all stopped, internally debating whether or not they could betray their fore mothers like this, lie to keep a human for themselves. But the decision was made for them, as Hog Nose slashed open his arm with the blade.

Inside the hole, (Reader) heard the women scream, and quickly wrestled Vix Ix to her feet so (Reader) could hobble to the opening. Reassa carried Hog Nose in her arms, a bloody mess, with a guilty expression on her face.

"What happened?" Keegraul demanded, watching as (Reader) pulled the little boy out of Reassa's arms to inspect the damage.

"He was attacked!" She collapsed, tearing at Keegraul's shirt.

"By what?!"

She swallowed hard, eyes flickering to (Reader), the motion only noticed by Keegraul and Vix Ix.

"Kahn piers."

Keegraul's eyes widened, realizing immediately what they had planned without discussing with him or the other men. "What kind of idiot-"

"What's a kahn pier?"

Vix Ix looked at her brother, witnessing him quickly shut the eye he was peaking out of. "Kahn piers are the most vile, evil creatures in these woods!" She cried out, grabbing onto her brother dramatically. "Hog Nose is lucky to be alive!"

Shame ripped through Keegraul's spirit, but seeing (Reader) shake with fear, imagining them doting on the children, caring for an the adults, watching them leave.

Wouldn't it be wonderful? Having (Reader) there to brighten their little home, loving the young ones as their own pen? Almost like a real spouse?

Even the way they clung onto Hog Nose's bloodied body, too broken up to notice that all his wounds were only surface deep.

Keegraul knew that everyone would play along, no one would tell (Reader) the truth. Everyone loved them so much, it was almost disturbing.

"Call everyone back home. The woods aren't safe."

#not proofread #so tired #I'm a little sick #so please forgive me #bad writing #platonic yandere #yandere family #yandere goblins #yandere monster #may come back later to proofread #i just wanted to get it out there lol

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cr4yolaas · 1 year ago

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blue spring — coping mechanism

prev: something sweet | masterlist | next: two-headed lamb

she doesn’t know how to handle the inconveniences that have been piling up. her portfolio, her tutoring sessions, her stepfather — they’re all closing in on her with a vice grip.

so, she does what feels the most natural.

she throws herself into work.

the sun hasn’t settled in the sky by the time she starts. it’s too early in the morning for her to be awake, but the itch of the burden of being keeps her up. studying — whether it was necessary or not — had always been a coping mechanism. it was routine. it was familiar. it was straightforward. it’s reliable for when she needs to put her mind elsewhere.

she works, and she works, and she works, until the material is spilling through her veins. a heavy breath falls from her lips, and she realizes her roommates are slowly awakening. she ignores it.

a knock on her door stirs her out of her trance, much to her irritation. yachi peeks her head through, her eyes scanning over the state of her roommate’s bedroom.

evidently, she comes to the conclusion that it’s horrible, if the drop in her jaw and the furrow in her brow is anything to go by.

there’s textbooks strewn across the carpet, and her phone has been tossed to the floor. stacks of papers, once neat and organized, have been haphazardly placed beneath her bed. yachi doesn’t know what to say. but she knows that this isn’t new.

“kageyama is outside,” she exclaims. she doesn’t comment on the state of the room, nor the state of her friend, and instead discusses what she knocked on the door for. “he said something about class today. he wants to walk you there. as thanks.”

they exchange a small nod before yachi returns to the hallway, the concern still clear on her face.

leaving her alone in the mess she created.

the reminder that she’s being waited on dawns on her. swiftly, she removes herself from the desk and gets changed, her face tense and her mind still awry. it’s an awful state to be in. but she can’t wash it away.

when she steps outside, kageyama is out there, waiting for her. his attention is on his phone, leaving him ignorant to her presence.

“hey,” she mutters, and his head whips towards hers. “you wanted to walk with me to class?”

a warm coat of red seeps into his face at the notion of being caught off guard. he nods sheepishly, and responds, “i felt bad about staying for so long last night.”

she shakes her head. “that was my mistake. you don’t owe me anything.”

regardless of her retort, she follows him down the hallway. she does her best to match his footsteps, the pitter patter of their shoes against the concrete being the only noise present. he doesn’t say much, and neither does she. it’s a comfortable silence.

she chooses not to question the convenience of this trip for him, but there’s a small, nagging feeling that he went out of his way for this. it irks her.

the bus ride is quiet, only momentarily, before he asks if she’s doing okay. something about the droopiness in her face, and her relentless fidgeting. the question almost slips past her. his eyes bore into her head, and she wants nothing more to escape.

she’s not meant to be attached. nor is she meant to be so open.

but with the way he keeps being so caring, she can’t help it. she can’t help the words tumbling out of her mouth and the admission of her exhaustion. she can’t stop rambling on about how she’s stressed, too stressed, and that she can’t escape it. it feels normal to explain these things to him.

the bus comes to a halt, cutting her rant short. they walk into class together, no other words exchanged, and sit beside each other. like normal.

there’s a burning sensation in her lungs, an itch to do nothing more than sleep. she’s tired. but when she looks to her left, she’s greeted with the sight of him filling out his notes dutifully, in the same manner that she does. it’s heartwarming, almost, and there’s a soft pattering sensation against her ribcage. there’s talks of an exam at the end of the week, and a collective sigh drenches the room. kageyama bears no reaction — rather, he looks content with the news. it’s new. she doesn’t know what to say about it.

she falls in and out of sleep for a majority of the lecture. it’s one of those weeks, where the build up of everything else weighs heavily on her shoulders and she crashes. however, it’s interrupted this time by none other than the boy sitting to her left. he’s nudging her awake, and she realizes her classmates are all filtering out of the room. her bag is already packed. her chest flutters again.

“do you wanna stop by the café? you look out of it.”

a mere nod is all she can give him before she’s following him out the door. it’s embarrassing, the way she trudges behind him. he slows his steps to match hers.

kuroo is there to greet them, and the chatter around in the building dissolves into white noise. he orders for her when he realizes she can’t focus enough to do so, and together, they sit.

“you should take a break,” he offers while taking a sip of his drink. it looks like plain milk, and it probably is. “you don’t have to tutor me anymore, if it’s stressing you out.”

“it’s not you,” she rushes to counter. “it’s a lot of things. things that aren’t your fault, nor are they your responsibility. don’t feel the need to put up with it.”

his glass clinks against the table. “sorry. i’m just- i’m worried about it. about you.”

“don’t be.”

“okay.”

she’s not meant to be attached, she reminds herself. it’s not meant for her.

the conversation ends there. he doesn’t ask about her next class, and she’s grateful. she can feel kuroo glancing over, she can feel kageyama trying too hard to not look at her, and she can feel her clothes tight against her skin.

she looks down at her phone. there’s nothing there. regardless, she claims that it’s time for her to go, that she doesn’t want to be late, and that she’ll pay him back for the drink another time. before he can respond, he’s left alone in the café, with his milk.

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks @scxrcherr @yuminako @girlkissersco @diorzs

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illubean · 1 year ago

Note

I saw ur celebrity Iso x bakery girl post and im in LOVE

May I req an art student!Iso x reader where Iso is roommates with another guy (either Phoenix, Gekko, or Yoru) and that dude has friends over with reader being one of them and tries to go find the bathroom but instead stumbles upon Iso's art room where he's painting away and doesnt notice reader? :3

And maybe reader leaves their number without him noticing until the guests all leave🤭💜

If You Need a Muse

Characters: Li Zhao "Iso" Yu Type: Fluff, Oneshot, Gn!reader

this request has sparked something within me... how do we feel about CeramicArtist!Iso smirk emoji also I changed the req just a tad bit >.<

Warnings: none

It wasn't often that your dear friend Jamie invited you over to his home. Your little group often spent time at Sunwoo's (who prefers to be called Jett) house or showed up at Ryo's uninvited. He was always too lazy to host or feared disturbing his roommate, but today he wanted for you all to play a console game he just bought.

You sat on the floor in front of Jett, who was on the couch battling against Ryo. You watched the game on the screen as you awaited your turn, as Jamie came from the kitchen with more snacks. Jett was currently losing, yelling and leaning into Ryo in hopes of throwing his game. You laughed before looking at your brown haired friend who sat on the floor next to you.

"We're not bothering your roommate are we?"

"Nah, I don't think he's home right now."

After about another hour of playing the game and eating junk food, you needed to use the bathroom. Setting your controller down you looked over to Jamie, asking for directions to the bathroom.

"It's down the hall, first door to the right."

You nodded, getting up and going on your way to find the toilet. You stopped in front of a closed door, pushing it open to reveal NOT a bathroom. You look around, taking in the room. It was well lit, the walls decorated with paintings in various sizes. In the center of the room was an easel, and a man standing in front of it who's gaze seemed to have shifted from the piece in front of him to you. He was wearing comfortable clothes protected by an apron, a paintbrush in one hand and palette in the other.

"Oh uh- Sorry. You must be Jamie's roommate, I was just looking for the bathroom."

He offers you a small smile before returning to his work.

"No worries, it's one door over."

From where you stood you couldn't really tell what he had been painting, but what you could tell was that the man himself was a piece of art. He had beautiful purple eyes and sharp features that you could almost believe he were a marble statue come to life. After taking him and the room in for a little longer you spoke up once again.

"Your art is very beautiful."

He looks up and smiles at you again before responding.

"Thanks. I'm working on pieces for my portfolio, though I don't think anything I paint could compare to your beauty."

You were left speechless as you felt the tip of your ears burn.

"O-oh. Thank you. I'll be- uh- going now..." You stuttered out, before turning and going back to your original task.

Find and use the bathroom.

After doing your business, you returned back downstairs to find that your friends switched to watching a movie.

"Geez, you took forever in there!" Jett complains.

"Did you take a shit or something?" Ryo asks, scrunching his face up at you.

The other two laugh at his statement before you give a response.

"I don't see how any of that is your business," you huffed. Instead of rejoining your companions in the living room, you make your way into the kitchen. There was a magnetic basket stuck to the side of the fridge with pens, some memo pads and sticky notes in them. You grabbed one of the sticky notes and a pen and begin to write your note. You look around for a place to set it as your eyes land on a coffee machine.

Bingo

The machine must belong to your friend's mysterious and attractive roommate, as you knew your friend didn't really enjoy coffee all that much.

You stuck the note on the bottom of a mug sitting underneath the machine before setting it back in place and finally returning to the living room.

{timeskip}

The next morning, Li made his way towards the kitchen for his daily cup of coffee. He would be headed off to class soon and needed a bit of caffeine to start the day. Jamie had already been up, also about to leave for class. After brewing his coffee and picking up his mug, ne noticed a yellow corner of a sticky note peeking out from the bottom.

Peeling the note off, confused, he brought it up to eye level to read.

"If you ever need a muse (or wanna go out :D) call me~ XXX-XXX-XXXX (Jamie's Bathroom Friend)"

A light blush dusted his face at the note. This had to have been left by his roommates attractive friend yesterday. He was so distracted buy the number written in front of him that he didn't notice Jamie peeking over his shoulder.

"That's why they took so long in the bathroom! Hah, looks like one of my best mates likes you."

The man gave his flat mate a firm pat on the back before going about his day. The light blush on Li's face darkened in embarassment at the realization Jamie had seen what was written. Drinking his coffee, he sat down and put the note in his pocket.

He would have to put the number in his phone later.

#iso x you #valorant iso #iso valorant #iso x reader #valorant #valorant x you #valorant x reader #valorant hcs #valorant headcanons #valorant oneshot #valorant fanfiction #valorant fanfic

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ghostgirlvii · 2 months ago

Text

So, I got commission scammed! Yaaay......

TLDR; I asked on a post if anyone knew about an artist who could some something specific, got contacted by @/ patriciahaskenswrite, aka Muhammad Shariq on Paypal, didn't listen to my gut feelings, ended up being scammed €150 and I'm waiting to getting it back! Yes calling out with their real name because fuck this scammer and they could use other username on social!

Alright buckle up anyone who want to read the whole story.

Yesterday, I made a post looking for an artist who was comfortable drawing a polyamarous ship (not everyone might be so I wasn't sure) got some reaction here and there, but someone slided in my DMs. here come my callout to the scammer, @ patriciahaskenswrite / patricia._.draws on IG

I'm gonna say it now, if they contact you THEY ARE A SCAMMER! DO NOT ACCEPT!

So the begining of the conversation started well and you know I really thought they were legit. Till the first red flag should have raised more alarm than it did. They didn't really gave what were their prices, instead asked me how much I was willing to pay. Which I said somewhere around 150-180. I was asking for three full bodies after all. They said that for this kind of work they usually ask around 270, but would give me a discount to 240 because it was our first time working together. Ok... I guess I mean, considering their art and all, it sounded fair enough. So we agree on the usual half-half. One before sketch and one when they start working. Here come me paying the 150. Second red flag also, but in a society of ever so migrating social media, it went a little under, their portfolio on IG was all dated from March 8 of this year (2025).

Third red flag. They don't send me an invoice, at least not like I would do. But the payment was still made under products and services (so I can escalate to Paypal) but the BIGGEST red flag that was flashing like the freaking Star Trek Red Alert and that my gut feelings told me ABORT!, which I didn't listen, is when the Paypal account's name did not match the username. Patricia sounds like any legal name someone would have and should have been expected on Paypal as well. No instead I got a Muhammad Shariq which deserve a call out as well. If you ever see this name after decided to go throught an 'artist' payment, RUN!

Like an idiot, I did the payment and only this morning I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. What can I do? Reverse Google Search. Took a screenshot of their art on IG, put it the search and low and behold! I find this Facebook page of an French artist, who has been active since 2013! Well well well, it seems my guts were right! There was something scammy about Patricia/Muhammad. I contacted the French artist right away and she confirmed that she was indeed the real artist. She was both glad I brought this to her, but also angry that someone would do this. We talked a little back and forth about the situation. One good thing in all of this is that she still proposed herself to make the commission I asked the scammer. But of course this time I know it's the actual artist and I can trust her. (I'll put a pin on this because she really had a good style!) She is also on IG under the name @ astrella.illu <3

I decided to play nice at first with the scammer. (IDIOT!) Trying to get my money back a more civilized way. What was I thinking? I had to call them out to get something and even then... As I am writing this, I'm still waiting for the refund but I did escalated with Paypal. We will see where this go, but I'll go further if needed. Not only for the money, but also to just not let the scammer win a thing!

So be careful guys! If you gut tells you do back down, LISTEN! Don't be like me and get scammed just because I really wanted some art but I wasn't sure who to ask to because I know not every one can be comfortable with poly ship. I guess the morale of the story for me is; don't be shy to ask people I would trust, actually artist I know and worked with! Two; If the name doesn't match the paypal, refuse! And never trust someone who come forwards when you look for commissions, or maybe. It depends I think here. But be wary.

#ghosty life adventure #commission #scam alert #scam warning #commission scams

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crystalreydraws · 5 months ago

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Greetings, fellow Jamil enjoyer ✨️ I'd love to hear what's your story behind rediscovering that enthusiasm to make personal art again? Well basically, anything you'd like to share further about your creative journey. You caught my attention when you said you were feeling lost for years, because that coincidentally describes my predicament with digital art right now! 😅 Anyway, all the best with your drawing, and may your passion continue to motivate you to create to your heart's content! 🌻✨️

I nvr expected anyone to be interested in my story😳

Well, to put it simple, I started feeling lost around the time when I started work as a junior concept artist that once told my boss, "One day I want to be involved in anime-styled projects!"

↓

That day haven't come yet. Instead, I keep getting jobs that I don't enjoy cuz I'm too bad at it.

I felt like shit cuz, imo, I keep disappointing ppl.

I felt like trash compared to other artists.

I felt like I was wasting time if I wasn't practicing color & lighting.

I felt ashamed of my personal artstyle cuz it's no use in my current job.

I stopped drawing in my free time cuz after stopping myself from drawing what I like, I didn’t know what to draw anymore.

I was hiding all my likings in weeb shit too cuz at this point I thought I was a embarrassment. (I nvr decorated my desk either.)

↓

Things started to change when I was given time and chance to do a small anime-styled portfolio project with a colleague. It’s like leaving a testament to whoever discovers this project, telling them that yes, someone is dead ass serious about anime style.

After that, I took a long break from my company. Staying home, I'm like, "That last portfolio I did I love it so much, I want to do it again"

"Fk it, now no one can judge me imma draw what I want. I will use my best skills even if companies may not need it."

Did some character design & fanart in free time, showing more anime-styled works on ArtStation.

"Instead of pushing everything to average, imma push what already had best in me to 100, so ppl see me, they can see what I’m best at, not just someone average. I want ppl to see that 0.0001% rare job they will immediately think of me."

"I should be proud of my art more to make a career out of it."

Self love, embrace more of my likings by decorating my room with my own art, more pkm & twst merch right👏 on👏 the👏 table👏 not in the drawer anymore.

↓

Finally, time has come. Got a great opportunity. Found back confidence, went back to company to start working on it (this time my office desk is decor with pkm 🥰).

It was super hard & stressful as fk, but I never felt this alive before, it feels good to get feedback on something u truly want to improve. 1 compliment can make me go "I can do this, I still have way more to go."

At the same time, double hair down Jamil has dropped & I'm feeling myself to draw in free time again. Now, every morning if nothing to rush, I will arrive early at office & draw personal art, which is most of the recent drawings u guys are seeing right now.

That's all of my story✨☝️

In short, the main reason me feeling lost years ago is because I keep doing jobs I don't enjoy & I thought my personal artstyle is worthless to my job. I also keep comparing my weakest point to other artists' strongest point (which is a no no)

The key that get me back to personal art again is finding self confidence by knowing what's the best in my style, embrace it, and starting self love.

"I only draw personal art for myself, not to impress anyone. I enjoy my art more than anyone. Even if no one ask for this I still had fun drawing this." Remember this!✨

Moral of story is keep drawing in the way you truly desire, especially in your free time. It's the only way u can "revenge" on ur current state. If you have no drawing intention, how bout starting off finding artstyle goals on Pinterest? Color goals✨ shape & lineart goals✨design goals✨ Discover good arts that makes you jealous & go " That's so cool I want to do this too!"

The most important thing is, not every art pieces need to hit everything perfectly. Monday u can do 1 piece focus on shapes. Tuesday u can do another 1 piece focus on color. Wednesday anatomy. Thursday lighting. Let 1 subject become the main focus. It's ok to hit only 1 subject perfectly. Let that 1 become the strongest point in this drawing is enough.

Oh gosh this is getting too long.

I hope you enjoy drawing again. Wish you an amazing new year☺️

#askcrystalrey

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pandorasprongs · 2 years ago

Text

JAMIE TARTT | if it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: in order to advance her career, reader has to write a profile about her usual subject of interest: jamie tartt. if he'll let her.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: hello! this is one of my shorter one shots and not much to say about this one, but i hope you all enjoy and the title is from 'second chances' by gregory alan isakov!

"There is no fucking way I'm working with her!" You hear Jamie Tartt say from a distance, as Keeley looks past his shoulder with an apologetic look. You give her a small smile, but let out a long sigh.

You knew doing this wouldn't be easy, but you didn't exactly have a choice. You left your job at the Sun after finally coming to your senses when Trent Crimm left the Independent. If the execs were willing to let go of arguably one of their best sports journalists, what would that say about your own career?

It's been half a year since then and so far, you weren't having much luck. You were doing freelance work in the meantime — to be able to afford your rent at this point, — but you couldn't just let yourself wallow in pity.

You decided to contact a popular sports journal, asking if they had any openings for writers. Your work experience helped boost your appeal, but they said they needed a solid portfolio to consider you. Since the Sun never really let you write actual sports-related articles and few of your tabloid articles were of substance, you asked if there were any articles you could join as a freelance journalist to prove your skills.

The only one they had was one titled, "Rocky Road: Careers of the Premier League's Up and Coming" and they had a particular player you wanted to write your section on.

Contacting Keeley Jones was the easy part. You've had enough interactions with her that your name was recognizable, so you were able to organize a meeting. Your first move was apologizing for every article you've ever mentioned her in, and then quickly explaining your predicament. The KJPR owner — having been in your place of being looked down for things out of your control, — was very willing to help you get your article done.

The missing piece was just the subject of your article: Jamie Tartt. Your relationship with him was similar to the one you had with Keeley, but you doubt he'd be as forgiving.

Your suspicions were confirmed by his reaction to Keeley organizing all of this for you. You had hoped that maybe he'd forgotten all the stories you'd written about his one-night stands, scandalous statements, and failed football plays, but obviously not.

You continued to sit quietly in Keeley's office, pretending not to hear her trying to calm the football player down. After a few minutes, the pair returns and Jamie begrudgingly agrees.

For a moment there, you're ecstatic and you start organizing your schedule of events. You’ve already written a short introduction, but the rest of the article is meant to come from the player and close sources. You're also supposed to shadow him for a week to get a feel of his current state as a player in the league.

You try and explain this to Jamie, but look up to find him taking selfies on his phone. Keeley grabs his attention, but a few moments later, he's back at it, hiding his phone under the table this time.

You finally have enough. "Look Jamie, if you don't want to do this,—"

"You're right, I don't." He finally looks straight at you and you hold yourself back from smacking his smug face. You don't care how many articles say he's gotten better; you still think he's the same prick you wrote all those tabloids about.

"Jamie, we talked about this," Keeley interjects. "It'll be good for your career and Richmond's standing for next season, if you do this profile."

"Yeah, but you couldn't get any other writer?" Jamie turns to face her instead.

"Look, she really needs this article," The KJPR owner pleads with the footballer, but that only gets him more riled up.

His gaze lands on you once again, with a smug look on his face. "So her career is in my hands?" He lets out a laugh, before standing up from his seat. "Message me if you find a journalist who’s more than a mediocre tabloid writer." Jamie leaves the room without another word and you slump into your chair.

Keeley tries to get up and chase after him, but you grab her arm before she does. "It's alright, Keeley. I didn't expect him to say yes," you admit.

"Well, I can try and ask the other players if they're willing to do it. I don't suppose you've written anything for the tabloids about them, right?" She asks jokingly, but you shake your head. The journal was very specific about which player they wanted. It's Tartt or nothing.

You get up to leave, but not without thanking Keeley for trying. She says she'll send Jamie the introduction you wrote, and you appreciate the act but aren't hopeful. As you leave the office, you decide not to go back to your flat just yet and let your feet decide where you're going.

Of course, you end up at Crown & Anchor. It's nearing 6 pm by then and you decide to just have dinner there. You send a message to your roommate about it, before ordering two beers and fish & chips from Mae. You really shouldn't be eating out given how you're already scrounging for jobs, but after the second beer, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

It's 9 pm the next time you check the clock and finally decide it's time to go home. You see Mae walking over to your booth, so you pull your wallet out of your bag. "I don't have it in me to look at the bill, just grab whatever from here and let's call it a day, yeah?"

"Someone's already paid for your meal." She responds, dropping the receipt in your palm instead. You scrunch your eyebrows before she points at someone walking towards the table. You look up and focus your eyes to find Jamie Tartt standing there. He slides into the other side and takes the receipt from you.

Before you can say anything, Jamie pulls out his phone and reads off his screen. "After aiding in AFC Richmond's promotion back to the Premier League, it's clear as day that Tartt — like his hair with the blonde highlights — is changing for the better."

You perk up when you realize what he's reciting. The football player continues, "Keeley sent the first few paragraphs you wrote. I'm not much of a reader, but this is alright."

You give him a small smile, still trying to sober yourself up for this conversation. "Thank you," is all you manage to say. “How’d you find me?”

“I didn’t. Just ended up at this pub and saw you.” You shrug at that explanation before Jamie continues, "I'll consider doing the profile," Your eyes widen, but he adds, "Only if you explain why the fuck you were so obsessed with me at the Sun?"

That's enough to shake you awake. "I was not obsessed with you!" You protest, a little louder than you intended, with Mae sending a glare in your direction.

You take a drink of water and take a deep breath before finally putting it out in the open.

"I have a degree in Journalism from Leeds," you start, prompting a confused look on the football player's face.

"The fuck does that have to do with all this?" He asks and you hold your hand up to stop him. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything, so you take the chance to continue.

"I have a proper degree from a good school. I have watched and played football all my life. My dad helped me join a league as a kid because of how much we loved the sport." You lean into the table, emphasizing the last part of your statement. If Jamie had arrived five beers earlier, you doubt you'd be admitting this to him.

"I played the game up until secondary school when I started getting serious about my writing. I decided to focus on that more, but I only knew how to write about football." You look up to make sure Jamie is still paying attention and find him looking at you intently.

You take a breath and continue, "I started writing for my school's paper about our team's games and when I went to university, I did the same thing. I've practically been a sports journalist for a decade, so I can proudly say that I'm a fucking qualified writer. I initially applied to be a journalist for the Independent,"

"What, like the Trent Crimm types?" Jamie interjects and you nod.

"But they decided to refer me to the Sun instead. The only things they'd let me write about were tabloids. As in, if I wrote anything about football or sports, it'll get rejected like that," You smack the table, startling Jamie a little, and sigh.

"The closest I could get was writing about rumors about the players, but even then, I'd only really get a small part at the back of the paper. The first time I got a section on the front page though, was when I wrote that article about you. The one about you getting caught with two girls in a karaoke room?" You remind him and he flinches at the reminder but doesn't say anything.

"Well yeah, that one. Anyway, I realized that if I wanted a chance to become an actual sports journalist, I had to get my stupid articles on the front page first and my most popular ones were always about you." You try and gauge Jamie's reaction to that, but he's doing a good job at keeping a straight face now. Or maybe you're just too drunk to properly determine his features.

"So I kept writing about you, whatever bullshit rumor or story I could get my hands on. I'd usually add some things at the end about your football performance thinking that an editor would see it and say 'Oh, she knows what she's talking about,'" You drop your voice an octave to try and mimic one of the executives you knew back then.

"But after a while, you started cleaning up your image and I started to realize that no matter what I did, no one fucking cared. I'd never get a chance to write what I actually wanted there, so I left." You lean back into your seat and let out a huff. "And now you're all caught up."

It takes a minute before Jamie finally speaks up. "I'll do it." A part of you still doubted that he'd agree, but with verbal confirmation, you allow yourself to internally celebrate. "But you better make me look good, yeah?"

"Yes, I promise," you reply, nodding your head furiously. "Oh, and thanks for paying for my dinner."

"Sure. I'll ask Keeley about our schedule next week." Jamie moves to get up but pauses for a second before jerking his head towards you. "Also, my hair is walnut mist, not blonde. You better change that in the article."

You wonder why this is what Jamie chooses to raise his voice about, but you agree nonetheless. He leaves you be and you sit there for a moment, still in shock. But once one of the servers comes to clean up your table, you finally get the sense to call your roommate to pick you up and share the news.

—

After a rough hangover the morning after, you check your phone to find a message from Keeley telling you Jamie changed his mind about it. You guess he decided not to tell her about what you said last night, much to your relief. You find another message from an unknown number.

I'm usually at the clubhouse by 10, so best to be there by then.

You were still too groggy to properly comprehend the message when another one pops up.

It's Jamie.

You save the contact on your phone before getting up and starting your outline. You already had a few questions lined up when you were planning the article, mainly topics that only he could comment on. One of those things is his career in the recent year.

After losing Lust Conquers All and being kicked out of Man City — arguably your biggest article, — there were fewer and fewer stories for you to write about the footballer, so your last few months at the Sun were pretty lackluster. You didn't have any reason to keep following Jamie's career, so you still had to fill that gap through your interview. But you decided to keep that till after you shadowed Jamie for the week since you also wanted to get the input of his teammates and coaches.

Over the week, you'd received mostly the same stories about the player. Massive prick, got sent back to Man City, came back and redeemed himself, and is now both a better player and teammate. It's nothing you hadn't heard before from second-hand sources, but at least you had direct quotes from his teammates for the article.

Watching training was the more exciting part of being at the clubhouse, especially getting to watch the improvements of the Richmond team as a whole. They seemed to be more united than before, probably because of the promotion high.

Your main focus was Jamie and you could tell that his teammates were right. Gone were the days of hogging the ball and only allowing himself to score a goal. He still had slight vibes of his old prick self, but you learned from the coaches that it was more of a tactic than anything. You even learned about their "signal," which they once did in a match a few months ago, you remember.

For the most part, you had avoided Jamie, still sensing a sort of resentment towards you. You couldn't blame him; he was already doing you a massive favor and it would be rude to get mad at him for justifiably being pissed off at you. It was only ever slight nods and greetings in the halls, and occasionally glances during practice.

Only at the end of the week did you finally have a conversation with him again to plan your one-on-one interview. Well, more of you enumerating your ideas and him only responding in nods.

"Is Sunday okay? Keeley said we can use one of the meeting rooms in KJPR for it." You're double-checking the message from the CEO as Jamie fixes himself up in front of his locker.

"Nah, too stuffy," is the first thing the football player says during the whole conversation. "How long's it gonna take?"

You had already lessened the number of questions for him based on the information you gathered from the team so that only left a select few. You didn't want to underestimate it though, so you tell him around 1-2 hours, depending on his answers.

"Then can't you find a restaurant or something for it? So I'm not starving the whole time." He asks, and you bite back from commenting on his tone. This is for the greater good. This is for the greater good.

"Sure, I'll find a quiet cafe for it, so no one will disturb us." You already had a few in mind that you used to go to when you needed a space to write.

"Okay, sounds good," Jamie responds and there are a few quiet moments before the footballer says his goodbyes. "Have a nice night."

"You too," You move to the side and the football player leaves without another word.

You exhale deeply and wait for a beat before heading into the hallway yourself. You start walking out of the building when you hear someone call out to you.

"Hi! I didn't know you'd be here today," You greet Keeley, who's rushing down the stairs.

"Oh, I'm just visiting Rebecca." She explains, pointing upstairs. "How's the article going?"

"It's going fine." You answer.

"Just fine? If Jamie's being an arse, you can tell me." You laugh but shake your head. Keeley seems to believe you and instead tells you, "Also, I've already contacted a photographer for Jamie's shoot. I'll send you his email, so you can plan it out with him. And, if you need any additional information, I'm sure I can help fill the gaps."

"Yes, thank you," You smile at her when a question pops into your head. "Do you know if Jamie's dating anyone right now?" Your first thought is to ask his possible partner for an interview, but you instantly realize your fault. "Wait, never mind, I shouldn't ask. That's way too invasive. Old habits die hard, sorry."

"It's alright," Keeley's quick reply relaxes you. "But no, I don't think he's seen anyone in a while."

That was more or less the end of the conversation with Keeley as Rebecca finally appeared and the two ladies went back to the latter's office.

—

The afternoon you're supposed to meet Jamie started rough. First, you realize you didn't charge your laptop the night before and now, it was completely dead. Next, your roommate had used up all the hot water, so you had to power through the freezing temperatures. Now, you're running late to the interview and sprinting through the street.

You finally get to the cafe and as you expected, there was only one other person there aside from the barista. You wave at the person at the counter, already familiar with them before approaching Jamie.

"12 minutes late," is all he has to say, as Jamie glances at his watch.

"Sorry, I just," you stop yourself from going on a whole monologue about how shit your day has been. "I got delayed, okay?"

Maybe he could sense you weren't in the mood to deal with his attitude, — when were you ever? — so Jamie instead informs you, "I ordered some food and the guy said he knew you, so he made whatever you usually get."

You try not to show your surprise at him paying for your lunch, but it wouldn't be the first time. "Thanks," The football player only nods, before crossing his arms.

You open your notebook and the voice recorder on your phone, "Okay, let's start."

You didn't expect this interview with Jamie to be so... fun?

You decided to start with the more surface-level questions like his expectations for the season, so it could break the ice a little. But after a sip of your tea ended up in the wrong pipe and launched you into a coughing fit, the tension was immediately broken.

Jamie started giving you more substantial answers and was more open about talking about his return to Richmond. How it really changed him, specifically Ted Lasso's effect on him and the club as a whole. You notice how soft his features had become talking about his coach and the team and you react with a smile.

After that and finishing your sandwiches, you shift the topic to his childhood and how it shaped him as a player now. You notice the sudden change in Jamie as if he's hesitant to start, so you reassure him, "If it's too much, we can change gears a bit. Talk about something else."

He shakes his head, "No, it's fine. There are just some things that I don't really want to share."

"That's fine. You don't have to. Just stick to the general stuff if you want." You pause the recording for a moment, trying to make Jamie more comfortable.

He pauses for a moment, before letting out a chuckle. "Do you think old you would be happy with letting me keep my secrets?" He changes his tone towards the end and you roll your eyes.

"Obviously not," you answer. "But I've been trying to bury that version of me."

"Why? You probably could've taken down the parliament with your skills." Jamie jokes and you finally break into a smile.

"Well, I never really used my skills for bigger and better things, did I? Just finding dirt on football players to make some money and build a mediocre reputation as a journalist." You answer honestly and the football player's expression changes.

"I didn't mean to be such a prick during the meeting." Jamie starts, but you shake your head.

"Nah, you had every right to. I wrote some pretty shitty things about you back then."

"Well yeah, but your life's kind of gone to shit since then, so now I feel bad." Your jaw drops and your eyes widen at his explanation and lightly punch him in the shoulder. Maybe the two of you weren't close enough for that kind of thing, but Jamie just laughed at your reaction.

"Fucking prick," you say in a joking manner. "Let's get back to the interview." You start the recording again, as Jamie recounts the first time his mum bought him a pair of boots.

He starts telling you about all the significant milestones over the years, and while you can tell he's holding back some things, — specifically about his dad, — you say nothing. It's the least you can do.

Maybe it's the fact that this has been the best part of your shitty day, but you started to see Jamie in a different light. Yes, everyone talked about how much he had changed, but this was the first time you saw it directly. You didn't even notice how late it's gotten till a brand new barista approached you about cleaning out the table.

"Shit, this is way past two hours now." You exclaim and check your notes to see that you've covered all the needed areas at this point. "But, I think we can end it now."

"Actually," you look back up at Jamie, who pauses to think. "Do you wanna get dinner? You pay this time,"

You don't have time to wonder about his reasoning for this and let your hunger take over. "Sure, but if I'm paying, I pick the place."

The two of you stand up and Jamie directs you to the door, "Lead the way," you playfully roll your eyes and start walking, with the footballer trailing behind you.

You head to a nearby Japanese restaurant, — one of the many perks of your flat's location — and settle down in a booth near the back. There were more people in this place and you weren't sure how comfortable Jamie would be being seen with you. You knew better than anyone how easily a scandal could be made from a simple picture.

The two of you pick out your meals and thank God it was an older lady taking your order who didn't recognize the footballer across you.

"Okay, why'd you want to eat dinner together?" You finally bring up.

The player just shrugs and leans on the table, "Thought I'd give you a chance to pay me back." You can't help but agree with that statement, so you let it go. Jamie continues, "Also, I'm interviewing you now."

"Oh God, don't tell me you're doing a profile on me." You joke and the player rolls his eyes.

He doesn't respond and goes back to his questions, "What got you into football?"

It was the first question you had asked him earlier. While he had given you a general answer initially, he added to it afterward, saying it was one of the few things he was sure he was good at as a kid. You decide to give him an honest answer.

"My brother and I don't have a lot in common. Didn't even feel like I had a sibling for the first part of my life. Till he realized I wasn't half bad at football. It was the only way to get a decent conversation out of the guy, and after a while, I ended up actually liking it." The moment you finish your answer, you realize you've never actually said it aloud to anyone.

For a brief moment, you think Jamie would say something serious, much to your dismay. You hated having to be emotional in front of other people. It was your job to pry at people's thoughts and feelings, not the other way around. But after building your writing career around the guy, you should've known he doesn't fare too well with feelings either.

"Think he's a fan of me?" He asks instead.

"Fuck no, not anymore," you're quick to reply and Jamie looks offended. You elaborate, "He's a Man City supporter. Fucking hates your guts now, honestly."

Jamie lets out a small laugh. "Runs in the family." The lady comes back with your food and that puts a hold on your conversation.

After a few minutes of eating, you finally break the silence. "You know I never actually hated you, right?"

Mid-slurp, Jamie looks up with a look of disbelief. "Really? You wrote all those articles and still don't hate me?"

"Yes!" You defend yourself. "I told you before. I did it for the job, nothing more. And objectively, you were a great player. You honestly have more of a reason to hate me than I do."

Jamie scoffs. "I don't hate you either. Annoyed? Yeah. Pissed off? Most of the time, but I never hated you."

You had already gotten pretty good at hiding your surprise about these revelations. "Well, I guess that settles it. We don't hate each other." You stick out your hand and Jamie looks at you in confusion for a section, before shaking it. The two of you laugh and continue your meal.

After paying, you end the night there and wave goodbye to Jamie outside the restaurant. If you from a year ago saw you hanging out with the footballer, she would've thought you'd lost your mind.

As you head back home, you have this weird feeling in your chest. Your whole job was finding ways to express things through words, but even then, you couldn't figure this one out. It's only when you get home and re-listen to your recording filled with jokes and exchanges that you realize.

You may or may not be developing a crush on the football player.

—

You hadn't physically seen Jamie since the photoshoot a few days after your interview and dinner with him.

You didn’t have a reason to anymore, since you had pretty much finished the whole article and already handed it to the editor for proofreading. They sent it back with minor notes, — just some grammar slip-ups and possible rephrasing, — which gave you hope that you might end up with a job when this is all over.

Getting the profile approved also gave you a chance to message Jamie after weeks of no contact, just to ask for his opinion on things. You didn't know if it was nerves or excitement making that pit in your stomach waiting for him to reply. All he had to say about the article was that he was glad you changed the "blonde" line in the introduction. Luckily though, it didn't end there. After that, he asked you what you thought of his new locker set-up.

That was the first of many times he would shift the conversation to random topics. You started spending your mornings and nights just messaging the football player. Sometimes he'd send pictures from training, saying it's extra material for the article and sometimes you'd send pictures from the cafe where you're writing, joking that you had new ideas for Jamie-related articles to send to the su!z

And when the rankings about the upcoming season came out and put AFC Richmond last, your first thought was to message him.

Fuck the pundits, honestly. You knew he didn't need any context, but you didn't expect Jamie to answer so quickly considering he was supposed to be at training.

I'm not worried. It's just poopy. You're not entirely sure what that meant, but at least it didn't seem to affect him so much.

I'm glad, then. You wait for a beat before sending another message. I know you'll do great this season. Why were you so nervous sending that? God, it felt like you were 15 again.

Thanks. Pretty sure 'tabloid writer you' is rolling in her grave.

You laugh to yourself as you reply. God, her head would be spinning knowing how I'm contributing to your already massive ego.

Jamie just sends a picture of him looking mad and you send one back sticking your tongue out.

A few days after, you send the published article to both Jamie and Keeley, along with a thank you for all the help. The latter answered sincerely, partnered with an invitation to the first game of the season, but of course, the footballer decided to answer jokingly.

Over time, you'd gotten over being so worried about interacting with Jamie. He was just another guy, even if he was an incredibly fit footballer for his day job. And now, you'd get to watch him play in the first match with Chelsea.

Despite your presence being welcomed by Keeley, Rebecca, the owner of Richmond, and Higgins, the Director of Football Operations, it didn't take a genius to realize how tense the three of them were at the match. Their club was the underdog of the season, so it was understandable to be nervous about the match, but you soon pick up on a different vibe involving an ex-husband and internationally famous football player.

"What do you think, then?" Keeley asks you when Rebecca leaves to try and convince Zava to join her team instead. "Do you think Zava's worth it?"

"Yes," you answer honestly, from the perspective of a sports journalist and a football fan in general. "Zava's objectively one of the best football players in the world, and his track record of wins outweigh his track record of diva moments."

"Well said," Higgins responds and you smile at him, before turning back your attention to the game.

When Rebecca comes back to your seats and explains the disastrous interaction, your reaction is the same as the rest of them: pure disappointment.

But as the game ends with a draw, you can't help but celebrate along with the rest of the Richmond fans. It may not be a win, but it was more than most people expected of the club, so that was something.

You join the other three briskly leaving your seats and avoiding the press conference of Zava until you hear him utter the name 'Richmond' in his speech.

"Holy fuck," you celebrate with Keeley and congratulate Rebecca since whatever she said to Zava seemed to work out in the end.

It was then that you felt a ping from your cell phone. You open it to find an email from the sports journal offering you a slot as a feature writer. You end up repeating, "Holy fuck," drawing the attention of the others.

Keeley glances at your screen and exclaims in happiness, "Oh my God. Congrats to you, too!" She goes in for a hug and despite still being in shock, you're quick to reciprocate it.

"Thank you, Keeley. Truly." Your face is just an expression of pure joy as you let go of her. As you continue to walk out of the stadium, you end up excusing yourself. Of course, you had to thank the main person for all this.

You find your way to the guest locker rooms and even from the hallway, you hear the cheering of the Richmond tram. They must've heard the news. You don't bother knocking and walk in to find what you expected: celebrating and rather sweaty football players. Well, there was one person who stood out.

"Jamie!" You call out to him from the door and the moment his somewhat solemn eyes landed on you, he made his way through the crowd to you.

"What're you doing here?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I got the job! I'm going to be a proper sports journalist." You inform him and his expression immediately changes to match yours. Catching you by surprise, Jamie envelopes you in a hug and you decidedly ignore his dirty kit as you reciprocate it.

"That's great," Jamie says, as he lets go of you.

You smile, before remembering the news earlier. "Oh and congrats, too! On the draw and getting Zava." The footballer's expression noticeably drops at the mention of the other player, and you finally get it. "You're not happy about getting him, are you?"

Jamie inhales sharply. "Rather not talk about that right now."

"Okay, sure," You back off. "But if it helps in any way, you'll still be my favorite player on the team."

Your heart skips a beat when Jamie gives you a cocky smirk, one that you used to despise. "Yeah? And you'll keep writing about me too at the new job, too?"

"It is my specialty. Plus, you're infinitely more interesting than Zava and his avocado farm." The two of you let out matching chuckles.

The cheering from the locker room seems to have died down and there were fewer and fewer people in the hallway. That's when Jamie takes a step forward closer to you.

When you don't pull away, he finally staets. "I was wondering, if you weren't busy,—"

"Yes," You interrupted him and hope you didn't do so prematurely. "If what you're about to ask is what's I'm thinking, then yes."

"Oh, you're fine giving me dirt on the other teams when you start your new job?"

You stop your expression from dropping and force a smile, "Yeah, sure."

But your disappointment doesn't last because Jamie starts chuckling, "I'm joking! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out sometime."

You're not sure if you should be annoyed or ecstatic, so your reaction is a mix of both. "Oh fuck you, Jamie!"

The footballer's prick side is practically second nature. "If the night goes well."

You lightly shove his shoulders before answering, "Sure. As long as it's a private place. Those tabloid writers can be so annoying sometimes." You flash a playful smile at Jamie, which he's quick to mirror.

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