#jones is in drag in almost all of them

[girafeduvexin]

Terry Jones and Michael Palin - Monty Python's Flying Circus, season 1.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I have a question, where would gnc/trans people get their clotges in the days before the selling of premade clothes? I assume some was stealing from relatives, and that soem of them did know how to make clothes, but that doesn't seem at all likely to be the most common method

That is an amazing question!

Unfortunately for a lot of people, we don't really know- many trans folks flew under the radar and as such details of their lives are unclear. Legendary stagecoach driver Charley Parkhurst, for example, left no sort of record as to where he got his clothes (especially since he lived in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for many years of his life). And figures like Mary Jones, a Black trans sex worker from the early 19th century, flit into and out of the pages of history so quickly that there's barely enough info to get their vital statistics, let alone shopping habits.

However, my guesses would be as follows:

Secondhand shops. These have existed for a very long time, and if you already have at least one outfit that makes you read as the correct gender, nobody would question you going through that section of the store/market/whatever.

Sympathetic conventional tailors or dressmakers. This is almost certainly where middle- and upper-class GNC or trans people got their clothing- one can hardly imagine legendary writer George Sand buying her suits secondhand, after all. And since humans have always been human, and Let People Dress How They Please; They Aren't Hurting Anyone is a sentiment I've seen at least as far back as the 19th century, I suspect there were far more of these than many people might think.

Clothing workshops catering to the demimonde- that is, to theatrical companies for costumes, or to sex workers. Certainly this is where drag performers got their stage gear, and one imagines people for whom gender variance crossed the line from performance to identity- like Fanny Park and Stella Boulton -might have turned to their costumers for everyday attire, too. And catering to sex workers probably got all sorts of requests that were seen as outre for the time (in a roleplay capacity- most sex workers dressed conventionally while not actively Doing Sex), but their money was as good as anyone else's.

Friends and relatives. Some families knowingly supported their crossdressing or trans loved ones. Even partners who married the person in question as the binary opposite gender could fall into this category- Lili Elbe (though she lived after premade dresses began to rise in popularity) first experimented with feminine attire in dresses and jewelry loaned by her enthusiastically supportive wife Gerta Gottlieb. In fact, Gottlieb was bisexual, and their marriage was only annulled because Lili was a woman now and same-gender marriage was illegal in Denmark at the time.

Also yes stealing from your relatives was also an option, of course. if they were less than sympathetic

The king of France???? this is the wildcard, and my absolute favorite: the Chevaliere d'Eon, when she transitioned in the 1770s, got the king to not only formally state that she had been assigned female at birth (there had been speculation about her physical sex for years at this point) but to pay for her new wardrobe of gowns. Absolute Queen.

"but didn't her mantua-makers notice Some Physical Things?" she's believed to have had some form of gynecomastia, based on her autopsy, and they'd never have cause to see her in less than her calf-length chemise. if they did see anything, they kept their mouths shut, and rightly so.

[prettiestofpisces]

Breanna Stewart x Reporter

💋: smut, fingering

-personally i wouldn’t know how to act if she looked like THAT around me

- i’m posting this on an airplane but autocorrect is always against me so if you see an error lmk ( ex. stewie turns to steve lolll)

-as always any and all feedback is appreciated…muah

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

standing up you fixed your pale blue blouse and tight black skirt, strutting through the libertys tunnel doors.

the new york liberty now stood at a new record of 17 wins, the number one best in the eastern conference.

questions cascaded your mind to ask the panelist, breanna stewart and jonquel jones yet none of them sounded good enough.

you practice with yourself still strutting down the empty stadium hallways.

“how did losing in the commissioners cup fuel the fire tonight to win by almost double digits?”

you scoff, kicking yourself at the originality…no.

“looking back at your previous loss to the lynx, what part of their game did you study coming into this one?”

this time a sigh exited your mouth.

hm a little better, but still no. you needed an obscure question for this post press.

you like to pose questions to athletes that bring out a side of them no one’s seen. whether it be excitement or vulnerability.

your companies sports articles offered rarity to sports news and discussed various, taboo topics, outside of ball.

wanting to impress your boss, this conference was to be no different and you needed a fun statement for this upcoming article.

as you entered the room voices could be heard everywhere. chatter was ambient, fellow reporters waiting patiently for the athletes to make their appearance.

looking around for a seat you find one in the front row off center to the left.

ten more minutes pass and suddenly complete silence takes over the room. shuffling in is breanna stewart and jonquel jones.

amungst the tallest in the meeting their prescence is almost intimidating.

sitting down right in front of you is stewart who’s expressionless. that is till her large dull eyes connect with yours and somehow it feels like it’s just you and her.

the two of you were fimiliar with each other, performing interviews here and there, but a true discussion was never held.

you take a deep breath looking around the room once more, and the press conference begins.

after thirty minutes or so the mediator announces.

“yes, final question coming from the front row, satin blouse.”

painfully boring questions had been thrown at them both left and right, now, finally it was your turn to do the talking.

you wiggle in your seat and inflate your chest to instill confidence. first introducing yourself and your company you lock eyes with breanna for a countless time and speak.

“…after a tough win, stewart i see you’ve changed into something more comfortable…” you look stewie up and down.

she he wore black sweat pants and a wife beater so tight her nipples, hard as ever, poked through perfectly.

“…fitting since you recently released new lounge wear to go with your new shoes color way. is it everything you envisioned and where is your brand going?”

stewie takes her hands and drags her palms down her chest and chuckles.

“yea it uh- doesn’t leave much to the imagination now does it” smirking directly at you.

“no, it doesn’t” shaking your head, you biting your bottom lip seductively.

jj takes notice of your flirtatious encounter, deciding to interject. “man if y’all don’t get a room or answer the question, we trying to get out of here!” stewie whips her head to her teammate laughing with her hands on her face.

“sorry…yea no the collection is called city of love and i’ve been dying to talk about it so thank you that’s a great question.”

stewie finishes up her statement as she watches you finish up your notes and record her the rest of her statement.

“alright, if that’s it we’re all free to go” the woman over the conference says.

breanna and jonquel thank everyone who attended and you place everything in its designated area in your purse.

feeling eyes on you, you take one more look around the entire room catching stewies bolted on your skirt.

you glance down and rush to pull down the fabric that had bunched exposing more of your bottom half than you’d like.

walking over to the exit where stewie stood you place yourself right infront of her. standing tall to her ear and whisper a quick message, “stop being a pervert.”

not taking another look at you she rubs her face with her hands as the other draped her side.

you roll your eyes and walk out into another empty hallway.

on your trek to leave the stadium you gaped, appreciating the structure now that it was almost vacant.

all that could be heard were the clicks of you heels against the tiled floor.

while nearing the exit, the ache in the balls of your feet were enough to need to sit down for a quick minute.

spotting some bar chairs you throw your purse and the rest of your belongings on the table before deciding to take a seat.

relief infiltrating your body, especially your feet.

kicking your heels off you huff “jesus christ.”

suddenly hearing footsteps behind where you sat, you can’t help but to turn your head.

the women behind you catching your eye, rightfully so. still in her lightly worn wife beater and sweats, breanna stewart appeared.

she took it upon herself to sit at your table and you watched as she did so.

“figured you could use some company.”

“i don’t but you’re welcome to sit..” you joke.

“ouch” she laughs.

there’s a pause of silence with you both looking at one another.

“you uh- with someone, single?” breanna blurts.

“what- who’s asking?” the questions catching you by surprise.

breanna points at herself signaling she wants to know, and in the blink of an eye she’s standing, towering above you in your chair.

you waste no time to stand up yourself as two can play that game.

“is there an issue stewart?”

you put a finger in her chest, pushing breanna outwards.

“you tell me” she says snarkily.

“honey you’re the one looking up my skirt” you counter argue.

“who’s to say you didn’t do it on purpose?” stewie shrugs with a toothy grin.

“ugh please” your bickering coming to an end as you turn on your toes and slip your heels on to head out.

that is till stewie pushes you against one of the surrounding walls. flipping you around to then face her. “oh shit-“

stunned, she left you pinned, arms by your side.

stewies grin gone, she gets just centimeters from your face

“listen, honey, not a single word leaves these lips while we’re here”

your breath hitches “okay..” eager for breanna to do whatever she wants to you, you comply.

“thank you baby” she says beginning to kiss on your neck, each sloppier than the one before.

you lightly close you eyes and in mere minutes she trails the hand that was once pinning yours up and down your thigh.

lifting your left leg to cradle her waist she then brings the hand to the hem of your skirt toying with it before reaching under.

your mouth agape ready for her digits to explore your cunt. moans escape your lips as grunts escape stewies.

she pauses removing her hand from to skirt to simply hold your leg in place.

your eyes flutter open to reveal breanna studying you and your face, the dimly lit stadium behind her.

“what’s wrong?” you whine.

she shakes her head. “nothing, i just wanted to make sure you wanted to do this” letting your leg fall. her accent being so thick made your pussy throb all the more.

you nod you head. “yes, i want you right here, right fucking now, no one’s here this late.” the corners of your mouth pull upward.

breanna pulls you off the cold wall for just a moment only to slap your ass.

“stewart!” you giggle, once again liking how rough she was being with you.

she returns the smile, her gums showing.

“even if there wasn’t i know you’d like a crowd”

you playfully slap her chest. “who’s the pervert now” she teases.

ignoring her comment you eye breanna, shimming off your panties and reaching for her hand, yearning to be touched. you place her hand back on your hips as you hoisted your leg over breannas waist again. she does the rest pecking your ear, then your jaw.

gliding her hand over your clit you groan at the sensation. “stewie go faster, or put your fingers in me, now-.” stewie cuts you off with a demanding kiss. no longer wanting to hear the attitude you were giving her.

stewie continues to rub your clit in agonizingly slow circles.

feeling how slick your hole was, she then knew you were ready for her fingers, her long, slim fingers.

you drag out a load moan as she inserts not one but two, her middle and pointer.

pumping her fingers in and out of you, you become more and more vocal.

“shit”

“mm fuck, just like that!”

“stewie baby, i’m sooo close” tears running down your face.

you felt drunk, spiraling with how good your body felt, tingles radiated all over.

her two fingers sped up and she rubbed your clit vigorously with her thumb. the new friction sending you over the edge, orgasming.

the audible gasp and sloshing of your pussy’s juices were all breanna needed to come herself.

your knees buckled forcing you to collapse.

you would’ve hit the floor if breanna wasn’t there to catch and pull you in.

whimpering you regain your balance and embrace stewie in a hug, tired but in bliss.

she kisses your temple.

“you’re so beautiful”

with your head buried in her neck, stewie feels you smile against her pale skin. “you did so good for me”

the praise erupting butterflies in your stomach.

you finally look up her eyes glazing your face and the tear that stained your makeup.

you release from the hug, putting everything back in its place, your skirt, your hair and…

“you forgot something” stewie says, holding your underwear in front of her face

“oh- you’re sick” you say as she shoves them in the pocket of her sweats. you throw your head back in laughter.

“call me” she says nearing exit of the stadium.

you laughed “why so you can start a collection of my panties?!”

“exactly.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

breanna stewart i hope both sides of your pillow are cold

[janicekao]

Fear

Pairing: Pennywise/Bill Skarsgard x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Going after his next victim: a little boy named Booker Jones, Pennywise the clown becomes intrigued by his older sister instead, and no... what he is hungry for is not her fear. Warnings: Horror, violence, entity, monster, monster s3x, rough s3x, dub!con, cnc, age gap, dark romance, smut, tummy bulge k!nk, dom&femsub cr3am pie, etc. 7130 words Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 ----------------------------------

Rumors have begun to spread that Pennywise the clown has returned back to Derry.

But who would believe the rumors being that they were coming from kids? Being gossiped around Elementary and Middle schools.

As children started to disappear again, the adults of Derry have also picked up on believing in this rumor, but luckily most of them have common sense.

Although this myth of a supernatural clown has been told in Derry for hundreds of years, the adults have been in contact with the police thinking that instead of something as crazy as a fictitious clown, some insane Pennywise fanatic has entered the town and is preying on children to keep the fable alive.

"He lives in the sewers."

"He can reach you through the drains of your house."

"He can make you hallucinate and you will see awful things to frighten you."

"He survives off of fear."

Sadly, the children are more than right.

Worst of all, they are going unheard. Parents are ignoring them as they search for what makes the most sense to them, a psychotic murderous pedophile on the loose.

And as the adults of Derry waste their time not believing in the supernatural, Pennywise is preparing to strike again.

Booker Jones, an eight year old boy is Pennywise's next victim.

Pennywise has been stalking his dreams, showing up each day at the boy's school, and whispering through the drains of his home.

Pennywise is infatuated with Booker's fear. Each time he plays with the young child's mind, his mouth waters with excitement to devour the boy and absorb his fear to keep him alive.

It's almost time now.

Booker has told his friends and family... But no one believes him. His parents tell him to stop listening to the gossip of the town because of how bad he's getting nightmares now. Little do they know, Pennywise is sizing him and getting his levels of fear exactly where he wants them to be.

Sunday nights are usually Booker's bath nights. Finally ready for Pennywise's taking, the clown plans on slithering inhumanely through the drain and drag Booker to his death into the sewers where Pennywise will consume his fear and let his decaying body be found in the streams that lead out of the tunnels of Derry.

As Pennywise listens into the pipes of the Jones' house, at eight-pm he finally hears the bath running... he knows that his time to feast, is now.

Pennywise slithers quietly through the pipes, opening his eyes in the sudsy lukewarm water as he expects to see the tiny feet and draggable legs of an eight year old boy...

The clown nearly gasps, almost choking on water as the gaze of his eyes latch onto the spread legs of a young woman...

Confusion takes over his mind, never once has he ever had to take a pause during one of his killings.

Still watching from the impossibly deep pits of the filled tub, Pennywise watches long brown legs soak in the sweetly fragrant bath. The girl's toes are painted a light pink and she taps her feet lightly to what seems to be music coming from her headphones.

What disgruntles Pennywise the most is the powers coming from between her thighs... he even momentarily begins to think that maybe, just maybe, she could be a supernatural herself.

Pennywise is hungry... Usually for fear, but this time, for a taste of the soft flesh between her legs.

Peaking out of the water for just a moment, he craves to see the face of the enchanting creature.

The girl nods her head to the rhythm of the music, luckily eyes closed as she relaxes... Because if they opened, they'd view upon the gray crumbling skin, patchy red hair, and demonic yellow eyes of Pennywise, and surely would die of a heart attack on the spot.

Pennywise is puzzled by her beauty...

Full dark brown curls drenching at the ends as she soaks in the water, face red and blushing due to the humidity of the bathroom, full lips, long eyelashes, and breasts large... nipples upturned and beaming with water droplets...

Fucking hell...

She isn't a child... no, she isn't a child at all.

What Pennywise didn't realize about Booker Jones, is that he has a sister. Quinn Jones, an older sister, age twenty, and home from college for Summer Break.

Tonight won't be the night for feeding after all... However, Pennywise can't leave without a taste, of something.

Seeping back into the drain, the clown's unbelievably long snake-like tongue slithers between Quinn's legs, swiping a powerful lick that goes from the crack of her bottom, through her folds, and to the delicious flesh of her clit.

She immediately gasps. Breath hitched in her throat as her eyes dart open. She flips her headphones from off of the top of her head and frantically kicks her legs, searching for what violated her in such way... however, the bath is empty.

As Pennywise ventures back into the sewers, the taste of Quinn stays on his tongue... a taste that he will forever crave until his dying day.

—•—

Pennywise paces the sewers, mind full of thoughts about the girl.

He isn't used to this feeling... and being an evil entity born Before Christ, he doesn't understand why after all these years, obstacles are now getting into his way?

He hears the snickering of preteens walking through the sewers with flashlights, probably dared by each other to see who is the bravest to meet the myth of Pennywise...

Sadly for the youngins, there is fear that Pennywise needs to feast upon, and once they lay eyes upon his stature of eight-feet tall, his dingy and torn clown costume, and his shards of glass like teeth, fear is exactly what they will have plenty of.

Pennywise tears them to shreds, consuming each drop of their fear. Finally becoming full and energized, he can prepare to tackle the obstacle known as Quinn Jones.

For the first time ever, Pennywise doesn't want to cause fright. He is so curious about the beauty that he just wants to be around her, to know her... However, if push comes to shove, killing her works just as well.

But to get close to the girl without her fleeing from him, he can not appear to her as a clown...

He once would appear human at times around the town of Derry, in his opinion his human form is a handsome man...

But being that the last time he tried this appearance was nearly sixty years ago, it's probably best to appear as something the girl could be attracted to nowadays.

He will have to appear as young as she is. In his twenties, charming, handsome, less forehead, less evil grin, and just more modern all together.

Contorting his appearance into what he needs to be, he finally becomes satisfied with his look as he stares at his reflection in the shard of a broken mirror, dumped in the sewers like the rest of the trash around him.

"This'll do." He finally agrees with what he sees. "This'll do just fine."

—•—

Before being able to show himself, Pennywise wants to be familiar with the girl he plans on meeting.

What does a clown who only knows of murder know about charming a girl?

For weeks of the summer, Pennywise quietly stalks Quinn until he knows her every detail.

Quinn even begins to think that her little brother's irrational fear of Pennywise the clown is rubbing off on her, ever since she's been home she sees the clown in her dreams...

He fills her every thought and at night as she sleeps, Quinn even feels him in the corner of her room.

She thinks that she's just going crazy, but she is far from crazy. Pennywise is using his abilities to infiltrate Quinn's mind, as he does his victims. But instead of frightening her, he just wants her to know of his existence.

Finally mustering up the courage to meet Quinn, things go surprisingly smoother than Pennywise could ever have expected.

In his new appearance, Pennywise purposely runs into her as she grocery shops dinner for her family. He compliments her, asks about the music she is listening to in her headphones, and lies that they are too his favorite band.

He enjoys speaking with her for the very first time... It is like a breath of fresh air.

Pennywise introduces himself to the girl as "Bill", a twenty-seven year old accountant who is interested in taking her out on a date.

Impressed by the man's charm and their almost impossible similarities, Quinn quickly accepts.

Over weeks of hanging out with each other daily, a bond has began to grow. They trust each other and Pennywise enjoys hearing her talk for as long as she wants to.

Each day that he picks her up from the Jones' residence, Quinn's blushing cheeks proves each time that his plan is working, it proves that the girl is crushing on him as much as Pennywise is crushing on her.

A month of knowing each other passes quickly being that the two have become immediately infatuated with each other.

Today, to celebrate a month together, Pennywise has planned a night at a drive in movie theater... a perfect place for romance, and to also scope out the scenery for potential children he can feasts upon when he's ready to.

Wearing a brown mesh dress that fits her body to perfection and compliments her mahogany skin beautifully, Quinn answers Pennywise's knock to her front door.

Pennywise can barely speak... Awed by her beauty, he can barely breathe.

She smiles. "Do I look okay?"

Voice sweet as candy, his heart begins to melt.

"Yes Quinn." He gulps. "More than okay, absolutely perfect."

She blushes. Quinn reaches up on the tips of her heels to place a kiss on the cheek of his handsome face.

She accepts his flowers. "Happy one month, Bill."

—•—

As Pennywise discretely digs through the wallets of his previous victims, he also drives a stolen car.

He impresses the girl with his willingness to care for her, to pay for all of their dates... although nothing that he has belongs to him, not even his own appearance.

Parked in front of the large movie screen, the two share a bucket of popcorn.

Pennywise listens to Quinn as she talks about her last year of college coming up in August. She'll then graduate and become a local Elementary School Teacher here in Derry.

As if she were made just for him. Pennywise's lips nearly begin to drool. Oh what perfect career for her... this way they'll never be apart, she can bring him the kids, and he absorbs their fear.

Curious with her thoughts on the rumored clown of Derry, Pennywise brings it up in conversation, wondering will he forever have to keep up with this appearance around her, or if one day she can accept him as he is.

"Like most adults, I don't believe in entities and things that just don't make practical sense." She shrugs. "But ever since I've been home in Derry, I too have had many thoughts of this clown... it started with my little brother's nightmares, he was sure this evil clown was out to get him... So as a big sister would, I comforted him, calmed his nerves, and reminded him that everything would be okay. But recently, something tells me that the myth of the clown may be true. It's like I can feel him, like he's always near to me... Like I know him personally."

Quinn smiles, shrugging off the goosebumps caused by just the thought of Pennywise the clown. "But honestly there is something else I'd rather talk to you about..."

Chomping on a hand full of popcorn, Pennywise agrees. "Sure, go ahead."

"Bill..." She gulps. "We've been seeing each other for a month now, and I'm a bit confused on where we stand... I go back to school in a month, I'd just like to know if I'm going back single, or is this something... more?"

Pennywise frowns.

Has he not been clear?

"You're mine." The only words he can conjure up at the thought of Quinn seeing anyone else.

Blush heating her cheeks, she accepts his answer with the prettiest smile. "I can be yours."

He nods. "Good."

Taking the popcorn to the floor of the car, Quinn reaches over to kiss Pennywise. Their lips meet, and their affection and adoration for each other melts into each of their breaths.

Although they have taken things very slow over summer, they still have had a few gentle kisses every now and then. But Pennywise realizes that this kiss is a bit different...

Quinn moans into his full lips, body closing in on him in the driver seat of the car as she clearly hungers for more.

His heart begins to beat out of his chest and his human form suffers with keeping up with the seducing kiss.

Pulling away from her, Pennywise watches her almost startled, confused by the bite she has to her full bottom lip yet his pants grow as she squirms in needy arousal.

He gulps. "Quinn, the movie?"

"I'd rather watch you." Her voice drips with seduction as her hand unzips the front of his pants.

Quinn calms his worry as her other hand caresses the back of his neck gently. "If I'm yours, let me take care of you Bill."

He watches puzzled, with a racing heartbeat, however he allows Quinn to do whatever she wants with him.

Quinn gracefully tucks her full mane of curls onto the other side of her shoulder as she bows into his lap.

Her lips line with his up-turned erection as she sweetly kisses the tip of his cock, staining it with her pink strawberry flavored lipgloss.

Staring down at his handsomely perfect member, thoughts of having him inside her chokes her mind. The best looking cock she's ever seen in her life, for now she'll satisfy her hunger with just his taste.

Hallowing out her cheeks, Quinn takes him fully into her mouth. Slowly wetting his cock with her spit as she gently tugs his shaft lubed with her drool.

Breaths caught in Pennywise's throat as he watches his sweetheart take him completely in her throat. Her delicious moans and sweetly scented perfume plagues his mind, he can't control the groans coming from the depths of his stomach.

She feels fucking perfect to him. Willing to choke herself to tears for his pleasure, he knows that he absolutely loves the girl.

As Quinn continues to slurp, stroke, and suck, Pennywise can't control the bucking of his hips. Gently fucking into her throat at the rhythm that he needs.

Quinn opens her eyes, peering up at him with her innocent doll like eyes as she slaps his cock on her drooling wet tongue.

His eyes roll back into his skull.. "Quinn.." He gulps. "Honey I—"

Forcing him deeper into her throat, Quinn inhales his balls along with the entirety of his cock.

Coughing and dripping mascara as her only care is to bring him to a pleasured finish

Fucking hell... he can't take it. Never having this sense of pleasure in his impossibly long lifetime, he feels the need to explode.

Noticing her deep arch in the passenger seat of the car, Pennywise can't help but to run his hand onto her firm backside, slapping her ass as she sucks his cock with absolute perfection.

His mouth hangs ajar as the pressure to cum continues to build. Stomach tightened as he listens to her intoxicating chokes and moans, he can't hold out any longer.

Quinn takes him into her throat once more as he blows his load.

He shouts a pleasured groan as the cum bursts streams into her mouth and down her pretty chin.

The pleasure is too much for him to handle, Pennywise loses focus on his appearance... and absolutely drops it.

He watches Quinn's satisfied smile turn into eyes of fear as he begins to reveal his truest form.

"P-Pennywise.." The shock causes her face to whiten into a pale fright.

He smiles, the jingle of his bells chiming out of thin air. "Pennywise, The Dancing Clown!"

—•—

Thrashing around in the arms of the clown, Pennywise leaves the car for the nearest city drain.

Crying and shouting to be let go, he doesn't listen to her once.

"Close your eyes." He calmly demands. "It'll hurt a lot less."

Fearing for her life. Quinn tightens her eyes closed as she notices them slipping into the sewer drain.

She knows it's impossible for them to fit and expects to be squashed to death... But underestimating the powers of Pennywise, gets her nowhere. As she opens her eyes, she's surprisingly unharmed and in the sewer tunnels of Derry.

As she's being carried, she notices her dangling legs nowhere near the ground being that her date has grown into a whopping eight feet tall.

As she cries and continues to lash out, Pennywise isn't phased or harmed by her gentle fists. However, he doesn't know how to calm her...

When he's killing for the absorption of fear, he would have snapped his victim's neck by now, but not wanting to hurt Quinn... he's at a loss for a next step.

Taking her to the driest and deepest part of the sewers, he leaves Quinn by herself beside a pile of his victim's belongings.

She becomes a mess of frightened tears as she looks up at the massive pile, noticing the floating children in Pennywise's possession, decaying and have been hanging there for many, many years.

As hours pass, and night darkens.

Pennywise decides to revisit Quinn. He finds her exhausted from tears and asleep in a dirty corner, however he's glad that she is calm.

He never wanted this to happen, but now that he's infatuated with her he can't let her go.

Waking up from her stressful nap, Quinn is startled by his quiet watching in the pipes of the sewer.

Balling herself up into bended knees, she refuses to even look at him.

He jumps down, creating a cloud of dust around him as he lands right in front of her.

"Open your eyes." He demands. "See me as I am."

"As what?" She argues. "Accept that you're Pennywise the clown? Or accept that you're a liar?"

Her smart tongue aggravates him as he forces her into his strict yellow gaze. "Everything I've said, I've meant."

"You're a murderer." Tears of sadness wet her cheeks.

"Don't bring up what you don't understand." He denies being called such things.

"You were after my brother weren't you?" She continues. "You wanted to kill him! Turn him into the children above-"

"But I didn't." He interrupts. "And I won't."

She scoffs. "You have been an entirely different man since I've known you, how am I ever to believe a word that you say!"

"Because you'll just have to trust me." His voice although sensitive to her fear, he is clearly demanding and intimidating. "Do it, because you don't have any other choice to."

Rolling her eyes, clearly heartbroken and confused, Quinn attempts to leave.

Stretching his arm like taffy, Pennywise pulls her back to him from many feet away.

Can't she see that he's inhuman? Whatever she does he can correct without even dropping a bead of sweat.

She can't win, and she never will.

Pennywise softens his stare into something less threatening... He slowly bends to the crook of Quinn's neck, placing gentle kisses on her skin. "I am still me."

Uncomfortable with his caress, Quinn begins to frown.

He continues to press his lips to her body and Quinn quickly realizes that she isn't uncomfortable with his kiss at all, she's uncomfortable with enjoying it... Uncomfortable with still feeling safe with a creature that shouldn't even exist.

Pennywise pulls from his kiss and watches her quiet expression... he feels hopeful, now that she's trembling less and her eyes have softened.

He wants to tell her that he loves her, but it just isn't in his character to say something so forward.

"Do I still call you Bill?"Her voice meek and sweet makes his heart beat loudly.

"Pennywise." He responds.

"Will you take me home Penny?"Pennywise shuts his eyes, soul melting at the cute nickname she has quickly came up for him.

Pennywise becomes hungry, wanting to give her what he received in the car.

"Yes Quinn, you'll go home." He whispers sweetly pressed against her face. "Right after I return the favor."

Tearing the panties from her body, Pennywise pins her wrists above her head.

She gasps, squirming in refusal. "No! Please Pennywise, I don't want that!"

Widening her legs her dripping cunt says otherwise.

Pennywise's insanely long tongue swipes between her thighs as he did the first time he met her.

She gasps, body arching in pleasure... Quinn remembers that feeling immediately. "It was you, i-in the bathtub."

Grinning deviously he nods. "Of course, who else could give you a kiss below like that?"

His mouth returns to her sweet succulent flesh. He's wanted badly to feast on this pussy for so many days now.

Hands forcing her dress above her chest, his eyes widen at her perky breasts... nipples hardened and painfully aroused.

Biting a glove off of his hand, he bites his lip as he enjoys the skin to skin contact of caressing her full bust.

Covering her face, Quinn becomes embarrassed. She tries to cover the moans from her tongue, but Pennywise hears them, Pennywise loves them.

Rolling the bud between his fingers with sudden gentle pinches, Pennywise dives back into her cunt.

His mouth is too good for her, she can't keep still.

He grips her ankles folding her legs to her chest to refuse her from moving his mouth from her pussy.

He circles his tongue around her swollen clit, nipping it to watch her body jolt. He slurps on her every drop of pleasure, swallowing it as if his thirst could never be quenched.

His tongue plows into her pussy, bringing shameful squeals through her begging lips. Tongue long enough to fuck her like a cock, he pushes it in and out of her hole and brings her to tears.

His monstrous cock aches, forced against his tight clown costume, and ready to burst from her taste and squeals alone.

Pennywise's face dug deeply between her thighs, his nose and mouth slide vengefully prodding inside the slick folds of her smooth cunt, forcing her to quake as she pulls on the red strands of his hair.

The clown's eyes shutter closed, rolling back into his skull in pure satisfaction. Mouth usually dripping with blood however tonight dripping with Quinn's sweet nectar.

"Please Pennywise..." Her sweet voice stabs at him. "Will you kill me too?"

"You hush now Quinn, you'll be back in your bed, sleeping the best that you've ever had." Breathless and eager to make her orgasm, Pennywise continues.

She moans... pleasure becoming far too painful for her. "When?!"

"Don't act as if you want me to rush, I can feel how much you're enjoying this Quinn." Nearly offended, he shuts her up with a deep tongue plow against her cervix.

She shouts in pleasure... Ashamed of knowing how incredible his tongue feels, and feeling like an absolute little slut for an evil clown.

However soon he answers her anyway. "You'll go home when I get you to that point , when you realize that I won't stop seeking after you, and when you realize that with me— you'll never want to be sought after by anyone else again."

"Do you understand Quinn?" His question is threatening.

She nods. "Yes."

"Good girl." He grins. "Now release for me... release for me, and you will be home sweet girl. You'll just have to do it, right here on my tongue."

Lying on his belly, face devouring Quinn's pussy as he grips the thick indents of her hips, Quinn begins to buck her hips... fucking his face until the tightened spring in her stomach releases.

Tears dropping from her eyes as she shouts out from a mind blowing orgasm, Quinn's vision fades into a bright light.

Seeing only white and hearing a ringing similar to after a bomb, she fades into an unexpected slumber, waking up peacefully tucked into her bed back at her home...

—•—

Days pass and Quinn still doesn't understand what has happened to her this summer.

She's painfully alone with this knowledge, knowing that no one would ever believe her about Pennywise, nevertheless believe that she's been intimate with him.

Her thoughts of the night with Pennywise in the sewer plagues her mind... the memories make her drip with desire and because of it, she feels embarrassed.

What's even more embarrassing, is that she can't help but wonder why he hasn't made contact with her again...

Tempted to visit him in the tunnels, she doesn't want to seem desperate. Her mental health fights with her, filling her with shame knowing that longing for this creature is extremely wrong.

As the weekend draws closer, it'll be a week since they've seen each other. Quinn has gotten to the point of believing that maybe she's just going crazy, maybe she dreamt all of this!

She forces herself to drop him from her thoughts so she can prepare herself for the school year, and get back to everyday life.

Quinn showers in her parents' bathroom, refusing to bathe in the hall bathroom being that was where she first encountered the clown.

As she dresses for bed in a black silk night gown, she brushes her wet curls and brushes her teeth in the mirror of the hall bathroom.

As she spits the toothpaste out, she hears the calling of the clown.

"Oh Quuuiiinnn.."Pennywise nearly sings for her as he calls her name, echoing throughout the bathroom's pipes.

She gulps, realizing that everything that happened between them is absolutely true.

His voice taunts with seduction. "I've missed you honey..."

Cutting off the bathroom light, she decides to ignore the noise and leave.

"Don't you dare leave this bathroom."His threat startles her. "Come here Quinn."

She rolls her eyes, kneeling to the tub as she begins to whisper aggressively at the tub's drain, looking like a psychopath if anyone were to catch her. "What do you want from me? It's been a week, I thought I was free of you."

"Never." He chuckles. "It seems that you've been counting our days apart... if I'm correct, you've missed me just as much?"

"I waited for your bath." Pennywise causes Quinn to blush in embarrassment. "You never came."

"Showered in my parents' bathroom." She shrugs stubbornly. "Felt safer."

Pennywise laughs. "Then we'll just have to have our fun now."

Pennywise's gloved hand reaches through the drain...

"Take the glove off." He demands. "Then sit on it."

Quinn trembles as she pulls the clown's white glove from his hand.

His hand is revealed, gray, monstrous, with talon like nails.

She flinches at the thought of being fingered by that. "Put that away!" Quinn complains. "I will not do anything with that."

He sighs. "Fine."

Pulling his hand back into the drain, he soon brings it back up... handsome, soft, human, with enticingly long digits...

"Now." Compromising with the girl, Pennywise sighs. "Be a good girl, and come sit on this hand Quinn."

She licks her lips, becoming convinced to find pleasure on the handsome hand.

But she refuses... "No!" She snaps. "Pennywise, I won't! I'm going to bed!"

"So help me god Quinn." The threatening tone of his voice stops her dead in her tracks. "If you don't sit on this hand, I will come through this drain and fuck you to absolute pieces."

She wishes that his demanding threat didn't make her melt between her thighs... but interestingly enough, it does.

Quinn enters the tub. Hiking up her silk nightgown, she kneels to the floor of the tub, taking a seat on the warm hand coming from the drain.

His deep baritoned chuckle echoes through the steel pipes. "You know what to do."

And that she does.

Quinn begins to buck her hips... fucking the hand with slow trembled breaths.

Pennywise massages her clit with his thumb, making her slick and preparing her for his probing fingers.

Quinn continues to soak his hand, sticky webbed dripping from her needy little cunt oozing down Pennywise's wrist.

He places two of his longest fingers inside of her, bending at the knuckle to caress her g-spot each time they thrust into her. Quinn closes her eyes and enjoys the pleasure of each bounce onto the hand, a moan escapes her tongue as a broad thumb seeps into her asshole.

He's marked her as his own. Having the girl obsessed with the many ways he can fill her.

Quinn gyrates the lacy dress past her shoulders, her hands begin to toy at her now revealed sensitive breasts as she reaches closer to her cum.

Drawing the faint taste of blood from her full bottom lip, she bites down hard enough to silence her need to squeal.

"I have such the surprise for you.."Mysterious temptation clouds over Pennywise's voice. "Tomorrow, I'll come get you. Be ready for me, be ready for your gift."

"W-What is it?" Quinn's breath hitches in her throat, being choked by a moan.

"Be patient little lamb." He chuckles. "You will see."

Quinn clinches around Pennywise's fingers, nearing her finish. "Cum for me." A sweet command from Pennywise, sends Quinn into hysterics. She jolts, body quaking as she releases for him, soaking and pruning his fingertips.

Panting for breath after her climax, she watches the wet hand slide back down the drain... Quinn listens into the drain, hearing the sudden lapping of his tongue over his fingers, obsessed and constantly thirsty for her taste.

Realizing how much he craves for her, Quinn's crush grows larger. She's utterly fixated on her new lover.

"My glove?" Pennywise waits calmly for her to send it down the drain, but she refuses.

She gulps. "Tomorrow."

"You want to keep it?" You can nearly hear the joyful smile in Pennywise's voice.

"Yes." She admits.

He accepts it. "Fine, as long as you sleep with it pressed against your chest, or even better, between your legs."

"Quinn?" He calls once more. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, sleep well sweet girl."

—•—

Quinn gets dressed early today not knowing which time to expect Pennywise.

Her knee shakes nervously as she waits all day on the edge of her bed, wondering if she should warn her family to not expect her home tonight... Hell, dealing with an evil entity, she even thought to warn them that she may never be back.

But the clown asked for her trust... so trust is what she has to give.

If he were to kill her, she's sure that he would have done it by now.

As the evening darkens, a nervous Quinn refuses to eat any meals... Her stomach is too anxious to accept any food to eat.

Quinn's eyes become tired, she accidentally begins to fall over into her pillows as sleep takes over her...

Before her head hits the pillow, the side of Quinn's face is carefully placed into the wide palm of Pennywise's hand.

She notices the feel of his skin instead of the pillow on her cheek, not once caring to ask how did he get inside of her room.

"You're late." Quinn's voice so very quiet and sleepy, plays gently on his heart strings.

Pennywise leans into the girl, wearing his human appearance as he softly kisses his tired love.

"I'm sorry sweetheart." He coos, taking his borrowed glove from her bedside table. "Just needed time to get things perfect for you."

As Quinn blinks her heavy eyelids open, she watches Pennywise puff on a cigarette. "So now you smoke?"

He shrugs. "Thought I'd see what's the hype around it to you humans."

Quinn disapproves, up from lying on her bed, she takes the cigarette from his lips and tosses it out of the opened bedroom window. "There is no hype to it, it's bad for you."

Amused with her sexy authoritative side, he wraps his arm around her body. His hand graces the small of her back gently as he lifts her to his kiss.

The tender kiss, mind blowing for them both as Quinn enjoys finally seeing his presence again, and Pennywise enjoys her beauty. Long brown legs in a pair of light blue denim short-shorts, dirty red converse tied in a bow on each of her feet, and braless in a nearly see through white summer tank top.

She's so gorgeous, it physically pains him.

Enjoying every detail of grace and beauty on her face, he pauses momentarily as he takes her image in. "Close your eyes."

Expecting to be transported somewhere, Quinn does just that. She closes her eyes, grasping onto his broad shoulders as she trusts him to take her wherever he wants.

Feeling ground beneath her feet, Quinn soon opens her eyes. She notices her house a few feet away as her and Pennywise walk hand in hand into the woods of her backyard.

She frowns in confusion. "The woods? Why?"

"So you can see how to get to me, and where to find me, whenever you need me." The calm comfort in his voice takes her worries away. She agrees with a nod, tightening her hand around his.

As the two walk together in the woods for a few short minutes, Pennywise follows a stream that leads them to the canals.

He makes sure that she's paying attention as he watches down upon her, she nods, memorizing the path of how to get to him.

They cross the dense rocks surrounded by water as they head towards the sewer. An older gentleman packed up from late night fishing stops them in their path.

Quinn instantly worries about how Pennywise will react... If she is to spend time with him, she never, ever, wants to see him kill.

"Penny, don't." Her voice a quiet plead for him to behave.

The man shines his flashlight into their direction, and Pennywise can hardly decide to kill him or not as he watches  the man shine the bright light into his eyes.

"Hey kiddos! You shouldn't be out this late, especially around these parts. Haven't you all heard about the bodies being found around here? Apparently a murderer is on the loose, some even say an evil clown who lives in the sewers... although that's just a fable." The man chuckles.

"Can't say we're ones to believe in the clown." Pennywise laughs. "Like you said, it's just a fable, right?Have a good night sir!"

Quinn finally breathes again, glad that Pennywise never lost his cool.

He sighs. "The things I do for you."

Together they make their way into the sewers, sloshing through the mucky waters until they've reached the dry area of the tunnels.

Quinn notices how different it looks from the last time she was here...

Cleaned out, floating bodies taken elsewhere, and no pile of his victims belongings.

Even a bedroom is built...

Candles lit around the two of them for romance, and to mask the horrid smells of the sewer.

She begins to chuckle, impressed with the effort he put into making her feel comfortable with where he hides out at...

She walks around the bedroom touching the furniture and the decorations he put together to feel like a home.

Quinn knows the stuff is stolen, but it is the thought that counts.

"Too much?" Nervous and nearly sweating, Pennywise can't get a good read on her expression. "I over did it, huh?"

"I think it's beautiful." She admits. "The reason you went missing for a week?"

He shrugs. "I didn't like you being on the floor, you deserve better... A bed, a place to stay whenever you want to free yourself from the outside world."

Quinn's cheeks blush, clearly falling in love with the clown.

"The bed is awfully big..." Kicking off her shoes, Quinn lays back onto the pillows. "Should I expect to share it?"

Pennywise chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully however noticeably infatuated with the girl.

"Quinn?" He curiously asks. "Do you only like me like this? Does the clown frighten you?"

She smiles. "I like you for the man that I got to know over summer, regardless of how he appears to me. Penny, I like you, for you."

Pennywise gazes into his reflection of the bedroom's mirror with guilt... suddenly becoming unsure of which version that he even likes, himself...

He chuckles dryly. "So I'll change it up, keep things interesting with my different appearances."

She agrees with him, yet begins to sigh. "I'm sorry that I can't do the same."

Her feelings of not being enough for him snaps Pennywise out of his gaze.

"Don't ever say that again." He quickly leaves the mirror, joining her as he sits on the edge of the bed. "You don't need multiple appearances. I love just the one that you have, I'll never want for anything else."

"You love my appearance?" She asks. "Or you love me?"

He gulps, finally admitting the truth. "Quinn, I love you."

Feeling relief as he finally gets those three meaningful words off of his chest, he doesn't even care to hear her say it back... for he is sure that the day will come.

The two share a longing kiss.

A tongue kiss that heats into their clothes being stripped off of each other.

As he pulls the daisy dukes along with her panties off of her body, he bites his lip as he watches her lift enough to slide them off of her legs... just as impatient and horny as he is.

Pennywise watches Quinn tremble with excitement, as she glistens between her thighs, ready for his taking.

Lying on her back, Quinn nearly begs for missionary sex. The type of sex where the wider she spreads, the more she can feel him dig into her.

"Are you sure?" Surprisingly gentle, Pennywise asks for her reassurance.

Biting her lip and already panting, she nods.

He doesn't think twice.

Lying over her gorgeously nude body, Pennywise begins to place slow, bruising kisses along her skin. Sucking the flesh of her chin, neck, and breasts... Marking her with his affection.

Accepting another of his tongue kisses, Quinn moans into his mouth as he loses himself down her throat.

Pennywise begins to slowly lube his cock, thrusting slowly through her slickness until he's covered in her nectar. Just the gliding of his cock through her folds causes her body to arch, pleading aimlessly to be fucked into.

Pussy slapping her with the tip of his weighty cock, he grins deviously as he watches her body jolt each time it smacks her on her throbbing clit.

Toyed with enough, already to the point of soaking his brand new sheets, he gains momentum to seep into her entry.

Slowly thrusting his tip into her, Pennywise holds her hips down as she attempts to run from the pleasure.

His plows deepen..

He watches Quinn take half, then all of his cock as he stretches her to her max. Watching his cock spread her wide is the prettiest thing he's ever seen, his groans tremble as he watches each time he slides out, and rams back into her.

Quinn grips the sheets as Pennywise kisses her salty tears away.

"So pretty.." He coos. "And such a good listener. Quinn, baby, are you with me?"

The girl nods, body blushing red as she endures his brutal fucking, however enjoying the restraint on her breathing from his crushingly heavy body and the fullness of his veiny erection.

Catching a bouncing breast into his mouth, Pennywise's tongue laps teasing circles around her hardened nipple.

Picking up speed and listening to the wet fapping of their bodies and the squeaking bed frame, Pennywise is determined to bottom completely out into her.

Finally doing it, pushing his cock in to the base of his happy trail, Quinn presses her hand against his chest, begging for mercy. "Please—" she pants. "Penny, I-I can't!"

Taking the hand from his chest, Pennywise kisses the girl's palm gently before placing it above her head. Holding her wrists back from interrupting his heavy bucking. "You can baby, you can."

Taking his free hand to her fleshy clit, he massages her in a way that makes her squirm underneath him.

Finishing his handsy caress with a sharp slap onto her pussy, he sends her into oblivion.

Quinn's body begins to quake, squealing inaudibly as the orgasm melts her into the mattress.

Wanting that same incredible finish, Pennywise's speed picks up, aiming for his cum. Her orgasm spasming around his cock as he grunts, mercilessly fucking into the girl.

"Fuck!" He shouts as he nears his finish.

Pussy quivering around his erection, already doused in his sticky precum, his sweetheart lays tiredly beneath him...

Sweated out, dumbly drooling, and looking so beautiful half-lidded and absolutely slutty for only him.

To bring him to his climax, he begs to hear her perfect little voice.

"Is this what you want?" He grits through his teeth. "Could we have this for a lifetime?"

Quinn nearly cries, numbly taking the rough fucking like a champ. "Yes Pennywise, God yes— just continue to be good to me, be good to Derry."

He nods, simping immediately to whatever she wants. "Mmm- fuck! This pussy is fucking fantastic. Yes baby.. Haven't killed since we met, I'll do whatever you want."

"Haven't killed since we met..."

"Haven't killed since we met..."

The words replay, strangling his mind.

How hasn't he killed, since they have met?

Pennywise comes to a slow pace, not understanding how he has been surviving if he hasn't fed off of fear?

....

Or has he been feeding off of it all along?

Quinn, she fears him.

He only has been surviving around her, because she's fucking faking it...

Pennywise believes that Quinn doesn't feel the same about him at all, she loathes him, she's frightened by him and doing whatever she needs to do in hopes of keeping her family and this town safe from him.

He can't hold his appearance any longer, as anger fuels him, Pennywise bursts into full clown...

Eight feet tall, ravenous teeth, hands that tear through his white gloves due to the black talon sized nails, and a monstrous cock that fills Quinn to the absolute brim.

She hisses in immediate pain, "Pennywise it hurts!"

The bed breaks down to the floor now that he's massive and impossibly heavy. However, Quinn's tight little cunt feels sooo very good to him.

"It hurts?"He begins to deviously taunt. "Does it now? I think you can take it Quinn. Be good for me."

She squeals. "Please! You're still inside me, you'll have to go back to your human appearance!"

Becoming familiar again with his evil nature, he refuses. "I think I'll fuck you just like this."

His hands wrap around her entire waist as if she were a can of soda, the clown's form being so large over her petite frame it's like fucking into a Barbie doll.

He huffs, nearing a mountain size amount of cum as he nearly splits Quinn into two.

The clown's mouth begins to drool as he places his hand at her womb, feeling his cock and watching the insane tummy bulge he forces into her guts.

So fucking sexy, he feels his explosion erupting.

Eyes rolling back into his skull, the clown releases to the sweet sounds of her cries.

Muscles tightening as does the vicious grip on her skin as he stills himself inside of her and coats her walls with his hot sticky cum.

"When were you going to stop wasting my fucking time?" Pennywise watches his cum spill out on each side of his cock that still penetrates her. "I can taste the fear on you, so don't dare lie."

Aggravated with her silence, he slams her against the bed. "Faking everything that you've said... Why, because you think it would keep you alive longer?"

He clicks his tongue with taunt. "I'm too old to be made a fool of, but you almost had me Quinn... you really did."

"Penny please!" She begs, although now on soft his giantly inhuman cock continues to sit deeply inside of her. Without barely any movement, she still feels as if she's being fucked due to his size and the pulsing veins of his cock. "I-I can't speak to you like this."

Not being able to catch her breath, and seeming to be seriously ill. Her poor body can't take much more.

She begs tearfully. "It's too much!! S'too full!!"

Pulling himself out of Quinn, she jolts at the lewd pop of the head of his massive cock exiting her.

He watches his cum seep from out of her with more plans of revenge sex and doing this all night to her.

She can finally breathe as her body relaxes, pouring out his messy load into the middle of her trembling thighs.

"Talk!" Pennywise shouts.

"I'm not afraid of you!" She cries.

Pennywise's finger nail sticks uncomfortably into her belly button, with just the slightest drag, Quinn's steaming hot intestines could be lying right in front of her eyes. "Oh Quinn... I've enjoyed every minute with you, but don't think that I won't tear you into fucking shreds if you lie to me again."

"I'm telling you the truth, I don't fear you!" The poor girl, now heartbroken and regretting becoming the lover of a demonic entity continues to weep until she runs out of tears.

"The fear that you are surviving off of is my fear of the future. Fear of our fate together being that we are in an impossible relationship..." Quinn explains herself , unable to even look at him anymore. "A girl and an entity— a fear of the universe pulling us apart when I have too fallen in love with you."

....

His eyes soften with immense guilt... Finally realizing what he has done...

Looking at his love lying exhausted, half-lidded, and fucked to a pulp, he worries that he has injured her... For the first time feeling fear himself.

What Pennywise failed to realize, is that the girl never feared him at all. What she feared, was losing him.

[noots-trash]

I've been thinking about the mistreatment of Martha Jones a lot today - specifically how such a powerful character can frequently tank in companion polls - and for some reason, I've come to the conclusion that she was just not written to be loved. When it comes to the most popular companions, we tend to see them through the eyes of the Doctor: Donna is the most important woman in the universe, Rose perfect and beautiful, Amy the feeling of home. I dislike Ten and Martha's dynamic as viewer, but as a fan, I dislike the way RTD wrote it. We see a season of an amazing yet pining woman almost dragged along for the ride by a man who barely looks twice at her. Narratively, this just about makes sense with Ten losing Rose, but if thinking about this through the lenses of Martha's mistreatment, there is no real admiration generated for Martha as a character because there's barely any generated for her on-screen. It takes a step back and a moment of thought to recognise her qualities, and how the narrative and her relationship with Ten barely lets these qualities shine through.

Somehow, the gorgeous, ambitious, intelligent and assertive companion always gets relegated to the 'rebound with a crush', simply because that's the uncomfortable baseline of her writing, and the surface level of Ten's perception of her. Obviously, there's so much more to the mistreatment issue than this, but this little facet has been niggling away at me all afternoon. Anyway. Respect my queen x

[imagines--galore]

Since you're asking for prompts,I was envisioning Will confessing to the reader in the same way George confessed to Charlotte in Queen Charlotte (the "my heart calls your name" confession) and thought it would suit Will really well!! Like maybe reader puts herself in danger by trying to save Will or something idk

Pairing: Will Turner x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None. A/N: I just ADORE Will Turner so much :3 and I love Charlotte the series as well so this was the PERFECT blend! Sorry for any mistakes folks! Also If you read this please please tell me what you think!!!

Your head was pounding. And not from drinking too much ale. You were sure of it.

Blinking your eyes, you were met with an unfamiliar ceiling. Normally you would wake in a hammock onboard the Black Pearl, with the gentle sway of the ship welcoming you to another day.

But everything was steady and there was no creaking or moaning of the ship as it sailed.

Your eyes blinked once more, to clear them from any remaining sleep. Slowly your brain began to recall the last thing you remembered.

Davy Jone's crew.

A fight on an island.

Fleeing to the Black Pearl.

The Kraken attacking the ship.

The entire crew fighting valiantly to save themselves and their ship.

Huge tentacles rising from the mysterious depths of the waters you had traveled for so long.

Ready to kill.

To drag someone to a watery grave.

To drag Will to his doom.

Will!

You sat up with a loud gasp, eyes frantically darting from one end of the unfamiliar room to the other before finally landing on a familiar figure that had only just stepped into the room.

Will Turner stood at the threshold, holding a bowl of what could only be food. The scent of it wafted through the air and your stomach grumbled in protest at being denied nourishment.

Yet you could not move. Could only stare at the man as he stood before you.

"I see I managed to save you then." You finally said, feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze. He was looking at you as if you were the very moon that hung in the sky. Which was utterly ridiculous because that was how he saw Elizabeth.

"And that we managed to escape in one piece." You raised a hand to your head, only to be greeted by a bandage wrapped around the entirety of it. A slight twinge of pain against your left temple made you aware of where exactly your injury was. "So, what did I miss? After I passed out?"

Whatever emotional turmoil Will had been battling he pushed it aside in favor of walking forward and handing the bowl to you. As you began to spoon the watery broth to your mouth, he pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed.

"After you passed out, we all piled into the lifeboats. I managed to haul you in as well." He paused almost looking at you expectantly. You raised an eyebrow at him. "And you expect me to thank you for saving me?" You asked in a dry tone, to which he rolled his eyes before continuing.

"Elizabeth was the last of us to get on. But Jack.........Jack stayed. To act as diversion for the kraken."

Your eyes widened and you dropped your spoon into your nearly empty bowl. "He...what?" You whispered, sounding just as in disbelief as you felt. Sorrow passed over Will's feature as he nodded gravely. "Jack's dead, Y/n." He confirmed, to which you took a shuddering breath and closed your eyes, before slowly falling back against the wall behind you.

The both of you sat in silence, with Will reaching out to gently and almost hesitantly placing a hand on top of yours as a sign of comfort. "I'm sorry, y/n. I knew you were close." Tears pricked your eyes but you didn't let them fall. Though you did give a small nod. "As close as a person can be with someone who took them under their protection."

That had been the extent of your relationship with Jack. Your families were old friends, and even related by blood somewhere down the line. And when you had decided to travel the seas as a pirate, Jack had been the one who agreed to let you sail with him. Not many pirates were happy having a female presence onboard, but you had proved yourself enough times that it no longer bothered them.

You had been with Jack through thick and thin. Through fire and water. You had been the only one on his side, along with Gibbs, when Barbossa had mutinied against him.

If it weren't for Jack, you wouldn't have realized your dream of becoming a pirate. And if it hadn't been for Jack, you would never have met Will Turner.

When you had first met Will, him and Jack had just arrived at Tortuga to look for a ship to go after Will's beloved Elizabeth. You had been slightly mistrustful towards him at first, and also a little jealous since Jack seemed to be spending all his time with him. But given how easily Will had befriended the rest of the crew, despite his own mistrust of pirates, you had taken to forming an unlikely acquaintanceship.

You were the best swords woman of your age, and it showed when you would take to the deck and practice every single day.

                                          ————————–

Then one day, your sword clashed with Will's.

Your eyes met over the joined blades, gauging the silent question in his. A smirk was your response before you stepped to the side and raised your sword in response.

And so a battle of wits and skill began.

Your swords clashed, your feet danced, your gazes never wavered and neither did your determination.

The entire deck was your practice ground, and the rest of the crew had gotten well out of the way when they had seen the both of you begin to duel. The both of you used every prop to gain the upper hand. But never once did either of you try a dirty trick. And while there had been a sense of pride behind each fell of your swords, slowly they began to grow playful. As did your words.

Back and forth, back and forth. With your swords and with your teasing insults and quips. Smiled full of passion and energy playing about your lips as you both danced to a tune only you could here.

It finally stopped when Jack called out to you. Neither of you yielded, or allowed the other to gain the upper hand. So, with sweat lining your brows and barely able to get a word out with how you both panted for breath, you were only able to smile at one another and say.

"To be continued good sir?" You had said in a slightly mocking yet playful tone to which he had grinned and given you a little bow before speaking.

"As the lady wishes."

But you never did pick back up on the match.

Instead the both of you would simply find each other and talk. He spoke of his life growing up as an orphan, with no money and no family. You had spoken of your own struggles, and slowly, without you realizing, in the weeks that it took you to finally catch up to the Black Pearl, you were made aware of your true feelings for Will.

You would watch him as he interacted with the rest of the crew, and on more then one occasion Jack had caught you simply smiling at him. He had tried to discourage you, telling you of who Will really loved and how nothing could be done about it.

Especially not when he was in love with Elizabeth.

You knew of the consequences, but you simply enjoyed his company too much to just stop spending time with him. And while you knew you were setting yourself up for a lot of heartache, it didn't stop you from forming a companionship with Will.

Although that too came to an abrupt and almost cruel end.

To cut a long story short, Elizabeth was rescued and Barbossa was defeated. Jack had his ship and his crew.

And Will returned home to marry Elizabeth.

Whatever friendship had been blossoming between the both of you had fizzled out the moment Elizabeth had been rescued. And though you knew you were setting yourself up for heartbreak, you did not comprehend just how much it would hurt. How his lack of presence would effect you. He hadn't even offered a proper goodbye when he had left. You had thought that perhaps as a friend he would do you the courtesy, but it was not so.

He never looked back at you.

Not once.

                                          ————————–

And so you decided to put him out of your mind. But never your heart. You couldn't put him out of your heart and it only made you miss him more.

So when he returned, this time for the purpose of saving Elizabeth once more, you were cold towards him. Cold and distant, even when he had approached you to speak with you. Your heart had cursed you for not speaking with him, but you were still too hurt over his dismissal of you the last time that you had no desire to forgive him.

All that vanished though, when Davy Jones appeared and agreed to take Will aboard the Flying Dutchman. You knew it was Jack's doing, that he had a plan in place, but that didn't stop you from stepping forward and volunteering to go along with him.

Out of love? Out of desperation? Out of your compulsion to protect the people you cared about? You did not know.

Jack had tried to protest, but Davy Jones accepted.

And so you found yourself standing beside Will, watching as the Black Pearl sailed away, leaving you onboard a ship of dangerous pirates, and a man who did not know how much you loved him.

At every turn, you tried your best to help him. You had learned long ago when to keep your head down and simply follow orders. Will was not a pirate. He picked up every chance he could to fight back. And when he discovered his father was one of the crew members, you had comforted him. And when he had been punished for his mistake with lashings, you had been the one to tend to him, cleaning his wounds and wiping away the blood. You had held his hand as he twitched from the pain, had stroked his hair when he needed a comforting touch.

Your mind screamed at you, at how you were setting yourself for heartbreak once more. But your heart rejoiced. You knew he was doing whatever he was to help Elizabeth, to save her, but you couldn't help it. All those feelings you had buried came rushing back to the top.

Your escape from the Flying Dutchman as well as the Kraken was pure luck. However, by your second encounter with the Kraken, when it came after Jack, your luck had run out.

You had been trying your best to avoid the lashing tentacles, as they grabbed man after man and threw them into the sea. You had successfully avoided capture, but only barely. Your eyes had frantically searched the deck, looking for a way to avoid yet another tentacle when you had spotted Will.

With a tentacle gliding his way to swipe him off his feet and into the water below.

You had screamed his name, had felt yourself leap into action. You ran, throwing yourself forward to push him out of the way. And you succeeded. Only for the tentacle, meant for Will, to hit your body with a force that had your teeth rattling and for you to go flying.

A flash of pain was all you felt at the side of your head. A voice calling out your name in utter alarm and despair was all you remembered.

And then darkness.

                                          ————————–

Presently, you blinked away your tears as you set aside the bowl and looked around. It was the first time that you noticed you were in some sort of bed built into the wooden walls. The air smelled heavy and musty. Familiar even.

"Are we at Tia Delma's hideout?" You asked, to which you received a nod in response. "How many of us survived?" Will pursed his lips at her question, and you knew the answer could not be good. "Only a few. Gibbs made it. As did the both of us. And Elizabeth." Of course she did, you thought to yourself.

Wanting to change the subject you raised a hand to your head to press your fingers tenderly against your covered temple. "How long have I been asleep?" The thinning of Will's lips told you just how displeased he was with the answer he gave. "Three days. You were barely alive when we reached Tia Delma. She took one look at you and took you to this room. Working on you for hours before finally letting me in to see you." He admitted, sounding almost angry at the woman.

"Remind me to thank her later." You said with a small smile, as you leaned your head back against the wall and sighed. Your hand came up to fiddle with the skull and cross gold necklace that rested at your throat. "I can't believe he's gone." You whispered, feeling the loss of your friend deeply.

"Elizabeth is in pieces because of it."

You blinked. "Why would she be in pieces over Jack's death?" You asked. You had suspicions that the girl never really liked Jack. There was always some sort tension between the both of them.

"Because she loved him."

Will's words had you blinking in utter surprise.

"What?"

He frowned at the confusion on your face. "I thought you knew?" You rolled your eyes. "Oh yes Will, Elizabeth and I sit together for tea and gossip about our love lives." The statement did make him crack a little smile before he continued.

"Well now you know. Elizabeth loved Jack."

"But I thought you loved her. Weren't you going to marry her?" You asked, allowing your curiosity to show. With all that had happened, neither of you had been able to properly sit and speak. Not when your lives had been in constant danger by either cannibals, or mad pirates or mythical creatures or the Company.

So many people were out to kill all of you.

"I was. I thought I loved her. But I realized, when we got back home, that it was nothing but infatuation. She was the one who rescued me when I was found adrift. And we grew up together. So, I allowed my boyhood feelings to grow into something that was never meant to be." He paused for a moment. "Those feelings are all gone now. And I was glad she found someone to love. For a little while." He added sadly, glancing in the direction the door where Elizabeth was probably sitting beyond. You did too, almost expecting Jack to come swaggering in with his usual land-legs and a bottle of ale in his hand.

"I never expected Jack of all people to die. He seemed almost immortal." You admitted.

"Well he proved he was a mortal man and met his doom. And you would've followed him too, if Tia Delma hadn't been here." You glanced at him curiously, not understanding the tone of his voice. He was glaring at you, his eyes almost stormy. "How could you be so reckless? What you did was extremely dangerous, even for you Y/n."

"You mean saving your life?" A frown creased your brow. "I did what I did to save you Will. And if that is a crime then take me to the brig." You snapped with a roll of your eyes. "And aren't people usually grateful to those who save them?"

He glared at you. "Not at the expense of their own life. The Company is taking over the seas, we need every good pirate we can get."

Anger coursed through your veins. "Oh so thats why you were worried about me? Because you didn't want to loose a good pirate. Its all about strategy with you isn't it?" All your past hurt and heartache was beginning to simmer under the surface, and if you weren't careful you would probably say something you would regret. But you didn't care.

His nostrils flared. "How could you think its simply because of that? Do you truly believe I am that shallow?" He spoke angrily to which you gave a mocking nod. "Of course I do. I mean why else would you ignore me once you gained my friendship?"

"I never-"

But you cut him off. "I thought we were friends Will. But the moment you rescued Elizabeth you ignored me as if you never knew me. As if we didn't spend weeks in each other's company. And then you came back, and I was there with you on the Dutchman, but as soon as you saw Elizabeth, once more you pushed me aside. I am not something you can use whenever you desire before putting it aside to gather dust. And even when I save your life, when I rescue you, you say such things to me?" Your voice had slowly started to rise in octave with each passing word. It was a good thing no one was within earshot to hear you.

Will looked angry with every word that came out of your mouth. "You put yourself in grave danger, Y/n. You always have no regard for your own life or your own safety and it worries me."

"And why should that bother you? Or even worry you for that matter. What am I to you?"

"I only wish to help you Y/n. To protect you-" He reached out with his hand almost as if he were about to touch you but stopped.

You turned your head away. "I did not ask for your protection Will, I do not need it. Why would you wish to protect me?"

"Because-" But you didn't allow him to finish.

"Is it because you think of me as some damsel in distress?" He shook his head.

"No Y/n-" Once again he was interrupted from saying his piece.

"Or you do not believe me to be capable of doing anything."

His voice was almost pleading, imploring you to listen to him. "Y/n-"

But you barely heard him, allowing your hurt and pain to blind you as you spoke. "Why? Why do you wish to protect me so?"

"Because I love you!"

His deceleration came out in a shout. One that echoed in your ears and had your mouth parting in utter surprise, while you stared at him in utter disbelief.

For his part, Will had stood from his chair, hands buried in his hair as he began to pace the length of the small room, still speaking in an almost frenzied and desperate manner.

"From the mo-" His voice broke as he met your gaze. "From the moment I saw you." Suddenly he was sitting in front of you on the bed, clutching at your hand in an almost desperate manner as he continued. "I have loved you from the very second I saw you." His words washed over you like a warm ocean breeze.

"I love you desperately Y/n." His voice was trembling, every word sounding almost broken as he spoke. "My heart calls your name. And I cannot loose you. I cannot." With each word his hands raised to cup your face, only to bring you forward and press your lips to his in a desperate kiss.

And you returned it.

You felt your heart heal and break at the same time as he brushed a hand against your bandages. Pulling back from the kiss, he rested his forehead against your own. "I cannot do this without you, Y/n." He admitted to which you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and embraced him with all your strength, hoping to pour all of your love for him in that one simple gesture. "I suppose it is a good thing I love you as well then." You whispered against his neck, to which he let out a small slightly tearful laugh. "I am aware of that. Given how you whispered it to me when you were slipping in and out of consciousness."

You pulled back, staring at wide eyed at his grinning face. "What?!"

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” He gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek, a gesture that made you blush. Your hand lifted to trace along the side of his face, enjoying how he closed his eyes, as if to savour your touch.

“I will never leave you Will. Just as long as you promise to never leave me.” You said, still stroking his face.

He nodded in response. “I promise.” His hand found the back of your head, urging you forward to close the remaining distance between the both of you.

This time the kiss lasted longer then just a few seconds.

[acapelladitty]

Waylon Jones/Reader: Concern

Summary: Even in the midst of passion, Waylon remains as careful as ever.

Despite all the preparation, his tongue having long since licked every possible inch of your cunt with its animalistic texture - a little physical boon which still had your legs twitching minutes after he had finished eating you out like the finest meal - it was still a difficult fit.

"M'not hurting you?" Waylon asked, his question so low and growled that it was almost easy to mistake it as little more than a noise as it rolled free of his lips.

Wrapping your hands around the back of his head as you lowered yourself another half-inch down onto the cock that felt like it was threatening to rip you apart, you gave him a strained smile as you masaaged your fingers across the hardened skin of his neck.

"It's so thick," you purred, "that I think I'll be ruined for anyone else. Forever."

"Didn't answer me." Not missing a beat, Waylon paused his hips as they circled beneath your cunt, his natural instinct to stretch you out making his movements stuttered, and the concern etched on his face forced you to relent your teasing.

"I've never felt pressure like it." You confessed with a breathy moan. "I can feel the muscles burning as they stretch and the heat of your cock against them. I can feel every one of those lovely little ridges which decorate the shaft. It's," you pause to search for the right words, "quite a lot. But it's so good."

A rumble in his chest is his answer and he continues his slow ascent, raising his hips enough to push his cock another inch and the scorching stretch claws your fingers into his neck even deeper. What must be a slight pinch against the leathery skin draws a smile from his lips, exposing razor sharp, stained teeth that you can easily imagine puncturing through your vulnerable skin - the thought enough to draw a fresh moan and shudder down your spine.

He pulls himself almost free, the drag of each ridge of his cock making your walls feel like they're being dragged along with him as every millimetre was subjected to wicked torment. Holding it for a moment before pushing back in, you both found that the movement was a little easier due to the forced give of the muscles.

A calloused thumb dropped into the space between you, his other clawed hand remaining tight against your hips, and a keen of pure pleasure escaped you as his thumb spreads your slit to rub gently along your clit.

"Waylon-" His name is hard on your lips, at once a prayer and a curse as the extra stimulation makes your body stiffen in place - cunt, if possible, growing tighter around his cock as you pushed yourself into his curious thumb.

"Nice and slow." Waylon grumbled, clearly enjoying himself even as you see the slight twitch of strain in his eye as he held himself back from devouring you in the ways that his beastial urges demanded. "And all mine."

"Yes." You confirm with a pleasurable sigh, willing to wait until it was safe for him to indulge himself even as the thought of it made your limbs shudder in anticipation. "All yours."

[yourjughead]

Attack Dog pt 5

Sweet Pea X Reader enemies to lovers

Warnings: Fluff and smut

A/N: Final part.

-------------------------------

3rd person

“So YN, tell us who did that to you already!”

“Not a chance Kevin” you laughed, pulling your jumper closer into your neck, trying to cover what Sweet Pea left you with three nights earlier. Archie wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you through the corridor Monday morning.

“Kiss and tell YN, we'll keep your secret safe” you could only roll your eyes at him, knowing that would never happen. You didn't want to tell them what happened between Sweet Pea and you, you didn't really even understand it enough to explain. The only thing you understood was it made Jughead insanely uncomfortable and that alone made you insanely happy.

Sweet Pea POV

Jones and I didn't really speak after he stormed out of my trailer on Saturday morning. Man I wish I got a picture of his face at the sight of YN. Priceless.

We all sauntered up the school hallway, Jughead keeping his distance from me. I met her eyes midway through laughing at whatever her friends said as I passed. I didn't look for long, afraid if I did I'd have no choice but to pin her to the locker and finish what we started. I don't like seeing Archie hang off her, that should be my arm. I shook my head. I'm being crazy, it was a moment, these things happen. Won't happen again.

-

I swear it was like she was avoiding me after that. I didn't see her in the halls, I didn't see her class or after school for the rest of the week. I sat on my sofa thinking about what happened in this trailer a week earlier. What gives? A knock to the trailer door snapped me out of it.

“YN?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah wh-” she then pressed her hands into my chest, pushing me deeper into the trailer, catching and closing the front door with her foot. She pulled her shirt from over her head and stood in front of me in her bra and jeans. What is happening? What is happening?

“What is happening?”

“Fancy some stress relief Sweet Pea?” Oh hell yeah.

3rd person

Sweet Peas hands went straight to your hips, the feeling of small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had a week ago as his hands moved to cup your backside, lifting you from the floor to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Sweet Peas neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck.

Sweet Pea carried you into his room before throwing you onto the bed. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“Sweet Pea if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us want”

“I want all of you”

Sweet Pea almost cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his jeans, his turn to groan.

You both began to rip the clothes from one another until you wrapped your legs around him to pulling him in closer. You both wanted every inch of skin to touch. His hand went from your chest, slowly sliding down to your inner thigh, teasingly.

Your fingers began dragging up and down his bare back before digging into his shoulders at the feeling of him entering you. You both let out a breathless moan at the sensation. You wrapped your legs around his torso at this while he placed his hands on your hips to steady himself. He slowly began dragging in and out before the sensation was too much and he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The sensations growing and growing and growing until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name making him go over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name. Sweet Pea collapsed on top of you before rolling over and hauling your shaking body to his.

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Sweet Pea finally found some composure to rasp out. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest.

“Don't get shy on me now YN” he returned the laugh and you smiled, pulling the covers up around the both of you, tangling in your legs.

“YN…I'm never gonna not be in the Serpents”

“I know”

“But I also really like kissing you”

“I know”

“Can both be true at the same time?” You reached up towards him to meet his lips again.

“Are you still a Serpent now Snake brain?”

“....yeah?”

“Well I guess both can be true at the same time”

~

Sweet Pea POV

I loved being with her, even if we were keeping it on the quiet side. I felt like she was starting to understand the Serpents and maybe even appreciate them, even if it was still from afar. She would come and go from my home without notice and I loved every moment she was with me. The only thing I found hard was not screaming to the world she was mine and I was hers even though we decided to just be casual. If spending every moment we could together be called casual that is. Continuing on like we still hated each other in public became a bit of a game and a bit of a turn on. Watching other guys fawn over her though was definitely not.

I filled my locker with books I pretended to read as Jones stood next to me watching the world go by. We had kind of decided silently to forget what he thinks he saw between me and YN three months ago. If only he knew what happened that night had far and beyond escalated passed that.

“Fuck it” was all I heard from Jones before he sprung off the locker and towards YN. In one smooth moment he caught her by the arms as she walked past with Archie and pulled her into kiss him. Kiss him. YN is kissing him. Kissing him. It really felt like every single emotion possible coursed through me. I had no idea what my body was going to do. Was I going to vomit? Was I going to faint? No. I was having an out of body experience as I stood, walked over, caught Jones by the shoulders and flung him backwards with what strength my shocked state had and flew him into the locker I had just left. It felt like slow motion and then, it felt like motion sickness.

“Sweet Pea!” Was she shouting at me? I really felt like the earth wasn't under me and then it wasn't. Jones jumped from the ground and straight into me. If I wasn't in a daze he wouldn't have taken me off the ground but it felt like I was out at sea. We rolled around the floor, I dodge his hands and tried to push him off me. I didn't fight back, not even when he clipped my jaw, I probably deserve what's happening. YN was shouting at the two of us until Archie and Fangs hauled Jones from me, cursing out loud. Fangs might kill him for me. I sat up from the ground, the whole hallway's eyes on me and my bleeding lip. I found my sea legs take me running from the scene and out into the car park, YN hot on my heels.

“What the hell Sweet Pea?! That wasn't very casual!” I heard her shout from behind me, her voice echoing off the empty car park.

“What if I don't want to be casual anymore YN?! What if I never wanted to be?!” I could see this caught her off guard. I was finally thinking out loud.

“Finally, you were getting hard to read” was all she said with laugh before rushing to me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me. Electricity returned. The ground beneath my feet returned to a solid state. We parted smiling, over her shoulder I saw our friends at the school entrance. Not a single face without shock or surprise. I couldn't care less.

“I guess I'm not the only attack dog in the relationship” she smiled, wiping the blood from my lip. Relationship, this was a relationship

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Sick Summer Days

WC: 2.6k

TW: Dry-heaving, Indiana Jones Spoilers, headaches/migraines.

A/N: Some comfort for our Steve. But also I tried something new and different with my writing and I don't know if I like it yet but oh well!!

If Steve could murder an idea, it would be this one.  

Dustin talked him into throwing a major pool party at the end of the school year for all of the little twerps that he was forced into babysitting. They had been passing around themes all month before Steve had butted in and told them that they have access to the pool, and he’ll grill some food, and that was the party they were getting. Maybe, since they were all sixteen now, he would let them have a singular beer.

But the morning of, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. His hair was sticking up in all the wrong ways, his chest ached, his head felt like it was filled with fluid, and to make matters worse, he stubbed his toe twice in the kitchen. His bagel had burnt, the OJ was the kind that had pulp in it (Steve is not a pulp guy.), and the banging on the door was the final straw. 

As he swung open the door to curse out Henderson, he saw you. Sure, the little shit was there, along with Max and Lucas, but you were trying to corral the group into being a little quieter.

“Woah Steve, you look like shit man.” 

“Thank you so much for that Henderson.” 

You looked over at him, a smile across your face that immediately transformed into a frown at the state of his being. Steve usually was shirtless around his house, something you quite enjoyed, but today he was wearing an oversized hoodie along with the sweatpants, and his hair looked like it had not only been entered into an Einstein look alike contest, but won.  

While you pressed a quick peck to his lips, the three teens pushed their way into the Harrington Household, booking it to the back doors to get to the pool. 

“You okay there Steve?” 

He just nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah….just—hasn’t been my morning.” he rasped, not realizing how shot his voice was until now. 

“If you want to go lay down while I set up the coolers then I will gladly—”

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t want you to suffer outside with the delinquents by yourself, that’s just cruel. Plus it’s nothing.” Steve gave you as close to a flirty smile as he could given the circumstances, and squeezed your waist.

You nodded and smiled at him, “Then go clean yourself up Harrington, everyone else is not far behind.” 

And like always, you were right. Just as Steve had made it upstairs to change into his swimsuit the rest of the gang had arrived. He could hear them all piling out of their cars, like a wave of sound ready to crash over him and drag him out to sea. 

You had been outside, wearing some form of a short sundress, to cover up the bathing suit you were wearing since it was only 10 am, and unlike the kids, you didn’t need to be in the pool right then and there. 

Instead, you pulled off your dress, made Robin put sunscreen on your back, and grabbed your sunglasses. You sat down on one of the lounge chairs that you had draped your towel over, pulled out the book you had been reading, and started the sun’s rays on your skin. You didn’t really need to tan, but this process of “warming your body down to the bones” was the best way to start the season out. You were ready to enjoy your day in the sun. But the universe had other plans. 

Steve fucking Harrington stepped out of his house in his old Lifeguard swimshorts, the bright red catching your attention. It caused you to miss the fact that his eyes were still tired and he moved a little slower than usual. You moved the book up slightly, trying to cover your blatant stare as he walked by. 

He picked the lounge chair right next to you, and sat on it, legs facing you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your body, almost drooling by the way you looked in your bathing suit, hugging you in all the right places. 

He cleared his throat, and smiled when you turned your head to look at him. He had been out in the sun before the summer started, and you could tell because more freckles had popped up, all over his chest, his shoulder, his nose. 

“What are you reading?” 

Robin snickered from the pool, watching as he tried to play it cool, when all he was trying to do was think about anything besides the things he wanted to do to you while you looked like that. 

“Oh, um. It’s part of the summer reading for one of the classes for next fall.” He nodded as you continued. “I’m taking this Dramatic Literature course, you know, like plays, and so we’re starting with this play called Faust, or Doctor Faustus. It’s kind of interesting. It’s about this like twenty-five year old who decides that just being a doctor and smart and hot isn’t enough, so he gets into witchcraft and summons a demon and makes a deal. Basically this demon, Mephisotpheles, or Meph, becomes his servant for like twenty years, or something, and the two of them go back and forth wreaking havoc and everytime Faustus gets a little too ‘God Save Me’, Meph basically throws another sin or indulgence at him and –” 

You quickly closed the book and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m probably boring the shit out of you with this.” 

Steve smiled at you, “Trust me, you are the last person here I could find boring.” 

Dustin and Eddie let out a respective protest, but Steve ignored them because a slight blush had risen to your cheeks, and that was much more interesting than those two. 

“Don’t say that too loud or your head will be on a pike before the day is over.” 

Steve just smiled and shook his head, placing his hand on your thigh. “Trust me, if I can handle the past three years of our lives, I can handle the two fucking idiots over there.” 

“Just be careful then Steve. If I get caught in the crossfire, I’m blaming–” You sat up slightly and pushed your finger against his chest. “You.” 

Steve bit his lip and nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes, settling back down into your lounger, reading your book. 

He was about to say something, but then felt an ache in his chest. Quickly, he excused himself form your side and went into the house, trying to cover up the cough in his throat. 

You exchanged confused looks with Robin before looking back at the slider door where Steve had disappeared behind. 

Steve was now in the bathroom, dry heaving like his life depended on it. The ache in his chest was making it worse since he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe, and to make matters worse, the headache came back worse then before. It was one of those migraines that would have caused him to stay in bed all day and disappear from the world. Perks of being constantly bashed in the head. 

You knocked on his bathroom door gently and waited for a response. Steve groaned and leaned back against the tub, not really answering you. 

“Steve, can I come in?” 

When there was no reply, you gently opened the door and slid into the bathroom. You took one look at him and shook your head. 

“Harrington, when you aren’t feeling well, you have to tell us. You would make us do the same.” You spoke quietly, almost like you could sense that the problem was his head. Maybe it was the way he was quite literally cradling his head between his knees, but maybe it was because you liked to say you were just really in tune with Steve. 

Steve felt as you stood over him. “Steve?” 

And when he didn’t answer, he felt as you squatted down next to him; your leg brushing against his. 

“Why don’t we get you to lay down for a little bit yeah?” 

Steve grumbled an “I’ll be fine.” but did not move from his position. 

“Okay big boy let’s not be stupid.” You huffed and very gently placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it ever so slightly to indicate that you were going to win this. 

On a better day, Steve might have huffed and puffed, maybe he would have given you lip and told you that he would be fine, but today? Today he just moved one of his hands to yours, a silent plea for help to get up. 

“It’s that bad huh.” You whispered, smiling when you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, before another ripple of pain flashed across his face and took the smile away with it. After a minute or so, you had managed to get Steve standing, and leaning against the counter. You hadn’t turned the lights on so the bathroom was still relatively dark (since the curtain was pulled over the window). 

“Can you open your eyes or does keeping them shut like that help.” 

“I’m fine.” He whispered, opening his eyes, and almost immediately regretting it. He already hated the fact that you had managed to weasel your way into caring for him right now, but now he was trying to shove whatever pain he was feeling into the back of his mind so that you didn’t have to worry so much. 

He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were when your worried over him. 

“Thank you?” You blushed slightly and kissed his cheek. 

“I did not just say that out loud.” 

“Yeah you did sweetheart, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Steve thinks you have magiucal abilities or something because he swore the two of you had been standing in the bathroom, but suddenly he was sitting down on his bed. And then when he blinked again, he was laying down in his bed, with a blanket pulled over him. But when he blinked a third time, and his headache was gone, that when he knew he was going to have to have you tested for witchraft since suddenly it was now three in the afternoon, and you were nowhere to be seen, and his headache had all but subsided. 

He sat up slowly, and double checked the time on his clock, as well as the date because he had no fucking clue what day it was. When he apparently went to sleep, it was ten am and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but now it was three pm, and pouring rain. 

What tipped him off that maybe it was the same day was the scream that came from downstairs, followed by an immediate “COME ON” from one Maxine Mayfield. Steve almost started to run for the stairs, but then heard all of the kids arguing. 

Eventually Steve slowly made his way down the stairs, eavesdropping into the kid’s conversation about the fact that in the first Indiana Jones Movie, Indy is completely useless—

You and Steve made eye contact when his foot landed on the bottom stair; an amused look was plastered on your face as the kids continued to argue about the necessity of Harrison Ford. 

You had all made them change into dry clothes so that they didn’t get the Harrington’s furniture soaked and moldy, which is something Steve was going to have to thank you for later. You were standing in the door way, clearly moving back and forth from the kitchen to the living room to keep an eye on the kids. He followed you into the kitchen where Jonathan, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy all were sitting at the island, drinking and talking with one another. 

“There’s sleeping beauty. How ya feeling bud?” 

Steve flashed a quick look of annoyance at Eddie before turning and looking at you, hoping for some explanation. 

“Started to pour so we saved as much as we could. You fell asleep around 11, and were out for a few hours.” You explanation was simple was you wrapped your arms around his midriff and looked at him. “Feeling better?” 

He nodded and kissed your head. “Y-yeah, sorry just…” 

“I know.” 

He could not be more grateful for you and the way you treated him—with such love and tenderness. But you never babied him, it was something he despised really, and so when you showed him love and care without treating him like a toddler, he started to accept it more and more. 

“There’s some pizza left in the fridge for you, but I did have to literally almost stab Dustin for it so be grateful.” 

Steve hummed slightly and kissed your lips. “I would have been okay if you ran him through with the knife.” 

Dustin yelled an ‘I heard that’ from the other room, causing the group in the kitchen to let out a collective amused hum. 

“Who’s idea was it to put on a movie that causes so many arguments between Max and Dustin?” 

You smirked and shrugged. “It keeps them all really engrossed because Max has a crush on Harrison Ford but sees how pointless he is in the film.” 

“And this upsets Dustin.” Eddie chimed in. “Which then causes Lucas to get caught inbetween because he also gets offended by what Max says, but sees her point.” 

“Plus he’s jealous about her crush.” Robin laughed slightly and took a swig from the bottle in her hand. 

“Then Mike joins forces with Dustin and Lucas, while El joins in with Max because she’s not wrong. And then Will tries to calm them down for the whole movie, which then leads to the suggestion of watching the second one, and whether or not Indy is truly relevant to the series at all..” Nancy finished out for you. 

“You willingly set them up to argue?” 

“If it gives us a reprieve then…Yeah.” Jonathan nodded. 

Steve nodded. “Works for me. What happens when the finish with the second film?” 

The five of you in the kitchen all chimed in at the same time: “Star Wars”. 

You had this down to a science, and handed Steve a beer. “I bet Eddie ten bucks that Dustin’s head wouldn’t burst until the second Star Wars Film. If I win, I’m takin’ ya out ta dinnah babe.” 

Steve chuckled at the accent and nodded. “You’re going to lose since Dustin freaks the fuck out every time Luke and Leia kiss.” 

You glared over at Eddie who was in conversation with Robin. “That sick son of a bitch.” 

Steve kissed your cheek and smiled. “You know I love you so much right?” He whispered, only for you to hear, causing your cheeks to tinge pink. “I appreciate everything you do for me. I don’t tell you that enough.” 

Since you might as well start crying if you opened your mouth, you settled for a kiss instead, your insides melting at the way Steve talked to you. 

It was a quick kiss since you all heard as Dustin started to lose his cool, before the second Indiana Jones movie had even ended. 

“You all forgot one thing, Dustin can’t standing the scene where Indy drinks some sort of magic potion that causes him to almost fry up Willie.” Robin smirked and held out her hand, as Eddie handed over the money to her. 

You grumbled but did the same, making sure to not step out of his reach to hand her over the money. 

[crazyk-imagine]

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?" 

"That's not a can-do attitude." 

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted." 

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute." 

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you." 

"After we go out to lunch." 

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open. 

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind. 

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened. 

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again). 

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders. 

"How long have you been feeling like this?" 

You shrug. 

"How long?" He asks again. 

"A few weeks." 

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-" 

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises." 

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?" 

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?" 

"You have a few of the signs." 

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in. 

"A while ago." 

"So, you know?" 

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house." 

"Oh, honey." 

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again). 

"What do you mean?" 

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks. 

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since." 

"He should know." 

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.” 

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now." 

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away." 

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?" 

"Yeah." 

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this." 

-

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again. 

It wouldn’t be the first time this week. 

-

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him. 

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please." 

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew." 

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please." 

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door. 

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness. 

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance. 

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you. 

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?" 

No one responds. 

"What fucking happened?" 

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all." 

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?" 

-

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours. 

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is. 

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you. 

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in. 

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad. 

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened. 

"Why is he here?" 

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side." 

"How did he know?" 

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help." 

"Isn't family only allowed in here?" 

"Apparently you two are engaged." 

You owlishly blink. "What?" 

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since." 

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?" 

"I think so." 

Jamie moves a little in his sleep. 

"That's my cue to leave." 

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here." 

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up. 

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh. 

"Sweetheart?" 

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad. 

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?" 

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?" 

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat. 

"Jam-Jam?" 

A sniffle fills the room. 

"Jamie, look at me." 

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me." 

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?" 

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt." 

"No more, Jam-Jam?" 

"I was going to tell you." 

"What? After the birth?" 

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out." 

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?” 

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once. 

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears. 

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.” 

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue. 

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.” 

“I made one.” 

You tilt your head. “What was that?” 

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-” 

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?” 

He nods, scratching his head. 

“Come closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues. 

“Come here.” 

He scoots the chair closer. 

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?” 

He nods. 

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?” 

“No.” 

“Do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to leave any time soon?” 

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.” 

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.” 

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?” 

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-” 

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?” 

You shamefully shake your head. 

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?” 

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?” 

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.” 

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?” 

“Not in the least bit.” 

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.” 

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.” 

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles. 

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence. 

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say. 

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.” 

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.” 

He shakes his head. 

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug. 

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you. 

“No. You didn’t.” 

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?” 

He nods, “’course I do.” 

“Give me your hand.” 

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you. 

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?” 

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?” 

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.” 

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.” 

“He?” 

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?” 

“Have you met yourself?” 

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.” 

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. 

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.” 

“Everyone?” You repeat. 

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.” 

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.” 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” 

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now. 

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.” 

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.” 

“We can.” 

“Atta girl.” 

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in. 

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment. 

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled. 

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?” 

You smile, “I’m better now.” 

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?” 

“Yes, coach!” 

“And now I’m scared.” 

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out. 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks. 

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.” 

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.” 

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.” 

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs. 

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend. 

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie. 

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand. 

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.” 

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?” 

“No,” Ted shakes his head. 

“Not at all, Beard.” 

The door opens and heads turn. 

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.” 

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks. 

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud. 

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out. 

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do. 

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap. 

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.” 

“I’m your dad.”

 “We’re your dads,” Beard adds. 

You glance over at Jamie. 

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.” 

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in. 

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see. 

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks. 

“Jaim?” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again. 

Ted smiles behind his phone. 

“We should probably give them some time alone.” 

“You think?” He asks. 

Beard nods. 

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.” 

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off. 

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long. 

“I think we should name it Jamie.” 

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue. 

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.” 

“Why not? It’s a good name.” 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?” 

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

“Was that everything?” 

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents). 

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles. 

“Is there a card?” 

“I hope so.” 

Now you’re confused. 

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles. 

“I’m lost.” 

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair. 

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.” 

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile. 

“And he let you?” 

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yea- really?” 

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course, I’m right.” 

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

“You lie.” 

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.” 

“I’m not sorry.” 

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine. 

“I’m not. I’m just being me.” 

“Yeah, and that’s mean.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” 

“Girls can like boy things too.” 

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.” 

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.” 

He groans, “please stop.” 

“Never.” 

You stiffle a yawn. 

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.” 

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.” 

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest. 

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch. 

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier. 

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.” 

“Jam-Jam?” 

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better. What were you doing?” 

He shrugs. 

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

[kevinsdsy]

apparently i cannot read aftg without forcing my own headcanons on y’all (first laila, now nabil) so here you go: my nabil mahmoud (mostly religious trauma so trigger warning) & tony jones headcanons

since tony jones is an assistant i headcanon him to be an intern, maybe a year or two older than nabil is.

since it was mentioned in tsc that tony has made it a habit to wait on nabil to finish praying i would like to put my take out there.

tony and nabil have made it a bit of a habit to linger around each other.

at first they didn’t even realise it. tony would linger after cleanup, and take his precious time doing his rounds, so he could catch nabil after showers and they could leave the building together.

nabil on the other hand would in return linger right after practice, helping tony out with the mess they had left behind on the field during practice.

it was laila who pointed their lingering behaviour out to nabil. she would tease him about how he’d always try to remove himself from conversations during their walk to the dressing room so he could catch a few extra minutes with tony instead.

nabil, who was a trojan at heart, would brush it off as him being polite and friendly— he's very aware of his sexuality, but it's something he has also surpressed a lot, due to religious trauma.

he would disregard his feelings towards tony and shove them down so deep that sometimes even he would forget the feelings were there.

but then he would pray before a game and tony would respectfully watch him in silence and give him a smile when nabil stood up from his prayer mat.

the flutter in his heart right after prayer would be followed with guilt washing over him.

even though his guilt would eat him up so much, he'd never take it out on tony. he would return tony's big smile, but tony would notice when nabil grew quieter— especially because nabil had a loud and hyper personality most days.

also the religious trauma is rooted into the fear of his parents' reactions.

most days he catches himself not even caring that he likes men— the guilt would only catch up with him when he thinks about how angry and disappointed his parents would be.

at some point the tony & nabil lingering around each other to catch a few extra minutes together turns into lingering touches.

it starts during games. nabil plays a full half and tony is quick to catch on that nabil needs a bit of help taking his gloves off. tony would in return help nabil out, carefully taking his glove off and examining nabil's hand.

nabil knows he doesn't need the examination, but he lets tony's hands linger on his and forces his eyes on the field to not get distracted by his feelings catching up with him.

tony nods at him in a confirmation he's okay, which nabil knows— he wasn't injured in the first place, his hands were just shaking a bit more than usual.

after one of the many games nabil asks tony out. which surprises tony beyond comprehension.

tony has watched nabil pray time after time. between practices. before games. during small breaks on the road when they have an away game. tony might have wished for nabil to share his feelings, but he never thought nabil would make the first step.

nabil nervously smiles at him and when the silence drags on a little too long he apologises in shame.

"i'm sorry. i thought— well, i thought you liked me too. i shouldn't have asked. it was stupid of me. reckless even, i'm sorry."

at some point nabil wonders who he's apologising to. to tony? to god? to his parents? it doesn't really matter, because the relief washes over him almost instantly when he realises he can live with the knowledge he still hasn't commited the sin that's waiting for him.

and then tony apologises in return for his belated reaction and tells nabil he loves to go out with him sometime.

and nabil expects the guilt to eat him up alive, but instead he forgets all his surpressed trauma and fears and smiles at tony.

"really?" he asks.

"yeah, really. as long as you're okay with it. i don't want to come inbetween you and your religion." tony tells him earnestly. and it catches nabil so off guard, that tony might have taken his religion into consideration too.

so in return nabil decides to admit something he never thought he would admit.

"if it's you, i don't think i’ll care what price i have to pay." and nabil realises he truly means his words. he promises himself to make whatever deal with god to keep tony in his life.

a silent prayer follows him around in which he reminds himself (and god) to live as earnestly as he can in return for forgivness on the one sin he knows he can't avoid.

he smiles at tony and helps him out with the last few tasks that tony is supposed to finish tonight.

instead of going to his apartment he goes straight to laila’s address without calling first.

both laila and cat welcome him with open arms like they’ve done many times before.

he spends the night with his head in laila's lap, talking about all his feelings for tony and the guilt and shame that comes along with it when he thinks about his parents.

laila wakes him up around fajr (dawn) prayer. she’s carrying a prayer mat and wearing a hijab (headscarf) which she only wears during prayers.

he wakes up slowly, but he realises if laila is okay sharing her bed with cat and still waking up at dawn so she can commit herself to god— he could be okay with this too one day.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Oooh~ how about a Rune factory 4 & 5 ask for Scarlett ,Dolace and Clorica with an S/O that's the opposite of them personality wise. They're just hyperactive, bubbly and a bit mischievous

(Rune Factory 4/5) Scarlett, Dolce, and Clorica with a hyper S/O

I just started replaying RF4/5 so I'm very much at risk of vanishing again, but I will try my best not to. (Project Zomboid and painting my space marines is doing a good job of that anyway)

Scarlett's duty as a ranger of SEED is to make sure the peace is maintained in Rigbarth.

Which her lover does a very good job of disrupting, much to her annoyance.

Whether it's indulging Cecil and his tendencies to investigate "mysteries", going along with Ludmilla's plans, or whatever the hell Ares and Alice was up to, S/O was at the scene of the crime.

Her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose as she sighs in frustration.

Meanwhile, S/O just laughs and bats their eyes innocently.

(S/O) "Hello, Scarlett!~"

(Scarlett) "Do not use that tone of voice with me. What are you doing?"

(S/O) "If I tell you, will you not get mad?"

Scarlett crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

(Scarlett) "That depends on your answer."

Though truthfully, Scarlett is grateful that S/O is with her at all, despite their difference in personality.

She's aware of her tendency to be a bit square and rigid, yet S/O loved her all the same.

Their overbearing love teaches her to loosen up, at least in some capacity.

Because sometimes, it was a bit too much.

(Scarlett) "S/O, I refuse to let you redecorate your room!"

(S/O) "Aw, but it'll be really cute!"

(Scarlett) "My face plastered all over your walls is not cute!"

(S/O) "...Palmo thought it was a good idea-"

(Scarlett) "CEASE AND DESIST!"

Dolce's face remains unchanged as both S/O and Pico engage in tomfoolery around Selphia.

Especially the fights where they fight for her "eternal love".

(Pico) "NO! Milady is MINE!"

(S/O) "Dolce would choose me, right sweetie?!"

(Dolce) "Call me that again, and I'll choose to do violence to both of you."

She dares not utter a word of how much she enjoys watching S/O brighten her day, lest she never get to live it down.

Pico and S/O would tease her about it until the end of time.

And since Pico was already a ghost, she actually could do that.

Rarely, Dolce cracks a smile as they both get reprimanded by Nancy.

(Nancy) "S/O, Pico? What have we talked about regarding fighting during breakfast?"

Nancy's menacing smile is enough to get both of them to sit up straight almost bend 90 degrees to apologize.

Making Dolce giggle softly.

(Dolce) "So that's what it takes to make you two be quiet? Maybe I should ask for Nancy to come with us at all times."

(S/O) "N-Not that I'd mind but...!"

(Jones) "Now now, Dolce. Us old timers shouldn't be interfering with your love life."

Dolce's eyes widened a little at Jones' teasing, making Pico and S/O laugh now, with even Nancy joining in.

Dolce glares at the two of them.

(Dolce) "I will kill you two."

Every dramatic and affectionate gesture makes Dolce blush madly, as she tries her best to keep her poker face intact.

All the while, Pico is either hissing, or encouraging S/O.

Clorica is unused to the sheer energy S/O brings to her. And here she thought Amber was a lot sometimes.

But it wasn't unwelcome at all. Having someone so bouncy was helpful in keeping her awake.

...Most of the time.

Whenever she performed her duties around the castle, she always had S/O to talk with, usually about something amusing happening around Selphia or just nothing in particular.

(S/O) "Cloricaaaaa!"

Clorica spun around and caught S/O, who leapt into her arms dramatically.

She almost fell over, but managed to stand her ground, letting out a soft giggle.

(Clorica) "Hello, S/O. I just got done with my duties for now. Would you like to get lunch?"

(S/O) "Heck yeah! I'm starving, let's get going already!"

Clorica is almost dragged along, making her smile even bigger.

Despite how enthusiastic they were, they always made sure to never force Clorica to do anything.

And even S/O understood that sometimes, she just needed the nap.

(Clorica) zzzz.....

(S/O) "Wow! It never fails to amaze me that she can sleep while cleaning!"

(Vishnal) "I aspire to reach that level of efficiency!

(S/O) "Maybe I can ask her to teach us that!"

(Lest) "I...don't think anyone can be at Clorica's level when it comes to that..."

(Frey) "Not even us."

(S/O) "It's a worth a shot! I'm already halfway there, she taught me how to fall asleep on command! Watch-"

THUD!

(Clorica) "...Huh?"

Clorica's eyes slowly blinked open before her head fell down, and went back asleep.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

okay then... how about the choir going to a pride parade?

🥰🫡

Constance is the one who found out about/organized them going to it

Noel was hyped and got so decked out for it (like face paint, glitter, about a million rainbow bead bracelets for the choir)

Mischa stole weed from Oceans parents to sell at the parade

Ocean was not very happy about this

Constance wore a shirt that said “free hugs”

Penny offered to have Ricky ride on her shoulders

She was convinced it was a foolproof plan until Ricky reminded her that she couldn’t see him signing if he was on above her head

Ricky painted his wheelchair wheels rainbow

Mischa punched so many protestors in the face that he almost got asked to leave

Ocean got gifted a drink by a butch and she was beet red for like an hour afterwards

(She dumped it out immediately after realizing it was alcoholic)

Constance got henna tattoos

Noel bought flags for each of the choir members

(No Ocean didn’t almost cry what are you talking about /s)

Mischa was covered in glitter by the end of the day

Noel may or may not have been responsible for about 90% of it

Ricky kept popping wheelies at people who wouldn’t get out of his way

Penny threw her doll at a protester

Ocean attempted to flirt with a girl one (☝️) time and then proceeded to get so flustered when she flirted back that she tripped and fell on her face

Noel got many many pictures

Ricky has like 15 different flags hanging off the back of his wheelchair

Constance brought pastries to give out at the parade

Many many pastries

Like she didn’t get a single second of sleep making them pastries

She also brought a lot of water

Penny bought a rainbow ribbon dancer and she kept calling herself Indiana Jones and whipping it at the choir

Someone gave Mischa a flower crown

Noel dragged them all to a face painter

This one group asked Ricky if they could paint his nails and he was so hyped

He ended up convincing them to paint the rest of the choirs nails as well

Penny and Mischa both got their middle fingers painted rainbow

Ocean and Noel made a bet over who could get the most rainbow bead necklaces

(Noel won)

Ricky immediately sought out the furries

Mischa ended up very very drunk with about five new accessories and “fuck you” painted on his head in the bi flag colors

Constance ended up with the crystal girlies somehow and got like five mood rings

She also (temporarily) dyed her hair rainbow

They all crashed at the bakery afterwards

[mariacallous]

Classical music lovers can debate for hours over which Mozart melody has made the biggest impact. Maybe the first movement of the “Jupiter” symphony, perhaps the Queen of the Night aria from The Magic Flute, or what about the “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” serenade? Those who know the great 18th-century Austrian composer only through the movies have an easier time of it—the sound they’ll remember best may not be music after all but the whinnying, immature, and disobedient laugh heard throughout Milos Forman’s masterpiece Amadeus.

Amadeus, commonly accepted to mean “beloved by God,” was not technically part of Mozart’s name. (He was baptized as Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart, with Theophilus having a similar translation.) After his death, however, the moniker stuck as a way to venerate him. It’s perfect for the title of this movie, in which rival composer Antonio Salieri allows his jealousy over Mozart’s genius to build into a personal war against God. But expanding on some fudged truth is also in keeping with the spirit of the entire project, as the movie’s central conflict is almost entirely made up. (Even better, then, that the original trailer featured the tagline “Everything you’ve heard is true.”)

Based on a Tony-winning play by Peter Shaffer (inspired by a short 1830 play written by Alexander Pushkin, itself inspired by gossip that Salieri was somehow to blame for Mozart’s early death), Amadeus is celebrating its 40th anniversary this year. As such, a new 4K restoration is screening in specialty theaters across North America in advance of a new Blu-ray release. This, plus an eventual availability on streaming, is the first time the version that people originally saw back in 1984 will be available in years. (More on that in a bit.) An upcoming British television miniseries based on Shaffer’s play is in production currently, but we’re skeptical it will have the same magic.

The film’s story is told in flashback, with an old, institutionalized Salieri (played by F. Murray Abraham) “confessing” how he murdered Mozart (Tom Hulce). We are then witness to how Salieri, court composer to Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones), has his world turned upside down when Mozart bursts onto the scene. His musical instincts are on a level no mortal can comprehend and clearly, Salieri feels, handed down directly from above. But while Mozart’s work is divine, his demeanor is coarse and bratty, which turns Salieri’s understandable envy into an existential rage.

As the winner of eight Academy Awards, including best picture, best director, and best actor for Abraham’s Salieri, Amadeus’s legacy is secure, but any excuse to get more people to see this perfect film is a good one. I can personally report that not one, not two, but three millennial friends of mine came to this movie kind of dragging their feet, watching it only out of an obligation to check every Oscar winner off their list. Each one of them was blown away with just how funny and poignant and entertaining it was.

“I thought this would be boring, not bitchy!” one pal beamed after a recent screening I hosted with Paul Zaentz at New York’s Paris Theater. That energetic spark is evident in the script but catches fire in the movie thanks to its director. Forman’s resumé is one of the best from the 20th century, but Amadeus is something special, not just because it is about a maverick artist who has to do things his way (a recurring theme in both Forman’s life and work) but because the expatriate who fled communist-era Czechoslovakia to follow his calling was able to shoot the movie in Prague and Kromeriz. As Mozart cackled in the face of propriety, so Forman was able to poke his thumb in the eyes of those who had previously censored him.

Forman was born in the town of Caslav in 1932. Both of his parents died in Nazi concentration camps. He attended a school for war orphans where he befriended future filmmaker Ivan Passer and playwright-turned-politician Vaclav Havel. He began working on documentary crews and eventually made short films of his own that blended fact and fiction, getting better material from non-actors than trained professionals. His first feature, Black Peter (1964), focused on a timid teenager, and its follow-up, Loves of a Blonde (1965), was a similarly naturalistic look at awkward romance. Its deadpan, somewhat bleak style ran counter to the splashy films coming out of Italy and France at the time. Both films are early entries to what became known as the Czech New Wave, leading to Forman’s first bona fide masterpiece, The Firemen’s Ball (1967).

While The Firemen’s Ball—Forman’s first film in color—was understood to be a grand metaphor for the inefficiency of the political system at the time, one doesn’t have to know a damn thing about Eastern Bloc history to respect it as an iconoclastic farce not dissimilar from something like South Park. It was immediately banned in Czechoslovakia, but it and Loves of a Blonde were both nominated for best foreign language film at the Oscars.

Forman was in France raising funds for his next project during the Soviet invasion of Prague in August 1968. He was fired from his Czech production company and ended up emigrating to the United States. His first Hollywood film was the 1971 counterculture farce Taking Off (in which square, bourgeois parents try to get groovy with their kids, to embarrassing effect), which led to one of the most influential movies of the 1970s, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

After the anti-authoritarian Cuckoo’s Nest—which won five Oscars, including best picture, best director, best actor for Jack Nicholson, and best actress for Louise Fletcher—came his adaptations of the musical Hair (1979) and E.L. Doctorow’s novel Ragtime (1981). With that all under his belt and his hands on the rights to Schaffer’s hot play Amadeus, Forman went back to Prague in triumph.

Amadeus is set mostly in Vienna; still, Prague, which was generally left intact after World War II, certainly looks good on camera. And Prague was also an important city for Mozart. He made two lengthy visits there and found a very welcoming audience. Indeed, he wrote Don Giovanni with the intention of premiering the opera in Prague, which he did at the Estates Theatre in 1787. And it was at the Estates Theatre where Forman filmed many of the movie’s best scenes—ones of Mozart conducting opera, filmed with the alacrity and exuberance normally reserved for an action-adventure sequence. (The use of pyrotechnics in the Don Giovanni scenes caused a lot of worry on set, what with the old theater’s interior being mostly wood.)

Shooting a Hollywood movie behind the Iron Curtain naturally had some hardships. (Fruit and fresh vegetables, rarities at the time, needed to be trucked in from West Germany.) Given Forman’s background, the eyes of the state were on them. During that recent New York screening, Zaentz, who worked as a production coordinator on the project and is also the nephew of film producer Saul Zaentz, said secret police were essentially hands-off, except for one time. During off-hours, some members of the crew would hang out and watch VHS tapes of Hollywood movies and were unaware that some of those titles had been banned. The company was soon requested to keep to only approved films.

Perhaps more poignant was when they were shooting on the Fourth of July during one of the opera scenes. The Czech crew surprised Forman and the actors during one take. Expecting to hear the music of Mozart play back from a PA system, some well-wishers instead cued up “The Star-Spangled Banner” while others unfurled an enormous American flag. Everyone stood up and sang along, except, according to Forman, the 30 or so secret police who had been dispersed among the extras.

One can easily read the moment as a victory for Forman. Alas, Mozart’s fate was a little different. Though no one knows for sure why he died at the young age of 35—other than the fact that every case of the sniffles had graver implications back in 1791—the movie shows how Mozart’s queasiness with authority shaped him as a hand-to-mouth freelancer and how his lack of a permanent position and persistent money woes were bad for his health. After Amadeus, Forman continued to make movies about troubled-yet-visionary mavericks: Andy Kaufman in Man on the Moon (1999), Francisco Goya in Goya’s Ghosts (2006), and, um, Larry Flynt in The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996).

As for the Salieri yarn? There’s no historical evidence to suggest that the two composers weren’t just colleagues. (It’s true that Mozart did have a paranoid streak and maybe did think that “the Italians” at court had it in for him.) Salieri certainly did not live in chastity out of some pledge to God in exchange for musical inspiration. Indeed, he had eight children. He was also plenty famous at the time of his death and, later in life, was a tutor to Mozart’s youngest son. Nevertheless, no one should let reality get in the way of watching this incredible movie.

This 40th anniversary rerelease is especially exciting for old-school Amadeus-heads as it restores the 160-minute theatrical cut. All one can find out there now is the “director’s cut,” which is 20 minutes longer. As Zaentz explained to me, that version came out in 2002 during the first DVD wave, when home-video distributors were loading up packages with deleted scenes. Rather than have isolated bonus chapters, Forman decided to just release the longer version instead, though never really considered it the definitive cut. However, over time it became the only version in circulation.

While the longer version has a few splendid moments (some backstage zings with Christine Ebersole as Caterina Cavalieri), it also contains one scene that I am happy to see once again excised. In it, Salieri goes a wee bit too far and humiliates Mozart’s wife, Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge). It’s important for Salieri to be a scheming twerp but also someone who still holds your sympathy. The controversial scene only found in the director’s cut pushes him too far into the role of villain.

So sometimes edits are important! It is said that Mozart never revised, that he took dictation from God. As with so much else about the man, the truth is a little different.

[keikikait]

ᴛᴇʟᴇᴠᴀɴɢᴇʟɪꜱᴍ (ɢᴇᴛᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: geto x f!reader (not au, geto and reader are both around 27)

word count: 1.8k

summary: as one of masamichi yaga’s former students, you got along well with geto, gojo, and riko back in your high school days. now things are different, but you’re still attached to one man, suguru geto. you obey his every command like a devoted follower does.

warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI, DARK CONTENT AHEAD, dom!geto and sub!reader, oral (m receiving), face fucking, use of the words cock and cunt, slapping, spitting, degrading, nickname use (slut), clit slapping, choking, light violence, angst!!!!, brainwashed reader, talks of non-sorcerer death (not too graphic, just mentioned), talk of cults, hyena motif, emotionally manipulative geto

a note: will i ever get over this? no. no, i will not.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Ever since you laid eyes on him, you knew you loved him. From almost failing a test because you spent too long gazing at him in class, to following him around like a lost puppy on campus, you’ve always been in love with Suguru Geto. Even now.

You’re devoted. You trust him. You’re easy. And that’s why Suguru keeps you around. He likes to manipulate you, he likes to push your buttons and tease you, send you away crying knowing you’ll come crawling back for more. You had never defied him. If he said jump, you’d ask how high. If he told you to kill an innocent non-sorcerer, you would.

You’re not a part of his cult, no, no. You’ve heard about cults before and heard the tales of Jim Jones, Charles Manson, Heaven’s Gate, and, of course, the Star Religious Group. You’ve seen the televangelist proclamations of the second coming of Christ and heard all about the Rapture, but that isn’t what this is. He isn’t a cult leader, not at all. He’s your Suguru. Your leader, devoted to the cause of wiping out the weak, the non-sorcerers. The ones who killed Riko.

You’re not his follower, you’re his. His soulmate! The one who gets to stay in his cushy cabin while the others are stuck in frail tents that could be knocked over by a gentle breeze. You’re the one he makes love to every night. He wouldn’t do that for just any follower, you were special. You had to be. You don’t know who you would be without him. You’ve supported him for so long, let his poisonous ideals fill your lungs and you choked on them at first, like anyone would, but soon you began to breathe them in.

You hadn’t always been this way. Once, you had done the unthinkable, the thing that breaks his heart the most: you tried to escape. You didn’t make it far out of the compound before he found you, easily overpowering you and tackling you to the ground. He was calm, at first, telling you how disappointed he was in you. How you failed him. You were supposed to be special. How could you do this to him? He trusted you. He started to get angry at your tears and your pathetic apologies, and he decided to give you a beating, just for good measure, breaking your nose just for the fun of it before he dragged you back inside the compound by your hair, kicking and screaming.

Once he had you back in his teeth, locked away in his room, he made you realise how disrespectful you were. He gave you everything, and you thought you could just run away? He taught you so much. He taught you how to hone your technique, how to make it as powerful as his. Almost. He taught you his ideals, about how all non-sorcerers are worthless monkeys who cause curses to begin with. He taught you that your thoughts about defecting — about leaving him — were like hyenas, and without him and his guidance, they would laugh at you as they chased you through the desert before killing you and ripping you limb from limb. You didn’t want to leave him, did you? You couldn’t be without him, after all, you were nothing without him. He had you wrapped around his finger, and his cock, and he loved every second of it, although he had to admit you looked prettier on your knees, worshipping him.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing. On your knees, trying to ignore the tingling in your calves from kneeling on the hardwood, his cock down your throat. You bob your head, tears streaming down your cheeks from the burning sensation in the back of your throat, trying not to gag. Suguru didn’t like it when you gagged. He didn’t like it when you resisted. 

You make your way down to the base, your nose buried in his pubes, and he reaches a hand around to push on your head. “Good girl. Stay there for a second.” You nod, as best as you can, blinking away the tears as you relax your throat. He strokes your hair for a second before his hips thrust.

You try to relax, squeezing your thumbs against your palms as you try not to gag.

And he thrusts again.

And again.

And again.

And you gag, your hands instinctively coming up to his thighs to push him away. He grips your hair into a tight fist and yanks you off, a trail of spit following your mouth. A symbol of your connection. You take a shaky deep breath, looking up at him with red, teary eyes. “Suguru-” 

He slaps you, hard. Your head jolts to the right, a stinging sensation spreading over your cheek. You sniffle, tears welling in your eyes again. You could almost hear the hyena’s laugh. 

He tugs your head up towards him, slapping you again, harder this time. “I told you not to gag.” You nod, babbling an apology. You deserve this punishment, after all. You had failed him. You were resisting, even though you didn’t mean to. You notice his cold, hateful glare and you apologise even more, apologising for your failure, apologising for letting him down.

You want his cock back in your mouth. You want to be useful to him. You look at it, thick and long and covered in your spit and tears. You feel your mouth watering and you stick your tongue out slightly. He notices this and laughs, jostling your head around. “You want my cock?”

You nod, panting a little. “Yes, Suguru.”

“Are you going to gag again?” He asks, tugging on your hair.

“No,” you say, your eyes wide and full of adoration as you stare up at him. “I won’t gag.”

He sighs, tugging on your hair again. “You know what happens when you disappoint me,” You nod again. “What happens when you disappoint me?”

“The hyenas come.” You answer softly.

“Yes, that’s right,” Suguru says, pushing your face against him. He rubs his cock against your cheek, smearing your spit and tears over your face. “The hyenas come, and they will kill you. And then you’ll be without me. And what are you without me?”

Your answer quickly. “Nothing.” He grins. He taught you so well, he taught you exactly how to please him. He rubs his cock against your cheek, the one he just slapped, before sliding his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. He thrusts and thrusts, and you finally listen to this time. You don’t gag, not even once. You take his abuse, loving every second of it.

After a few minutes, he pushes you off and you land harshly on the floor. “Get on the bed, slut.” You do, climbing up onto the bed and pressing your back against the pillows. He gets on top of you, caging your head in between his arms. He spits on your cunt before sliding in, gritting his teeth at the slight resistance. You weren’t being very good right now, were you? He slaps your clit and your cunt gushes, allowing him to slide in. 

Suguru leans down on his elbows, one hand wrapped tight around your throat as he thrusts into you. He loves this feeling, the feeling of you spread open and dripping wet for him, wrapped around his cock. You take all of his hurt and abuse and you smile and ask for more. He’s never met anyone quite like you, so easy to manipulate and so easy to toss around like a toy. He could even throw you away once he was bored, knowing you would still be in the trash can once he needed you again. Suguru didn’t care about you. You could drop dead in front of him and he would step over your body, only hearing the hyena’s laugh as they tear out your intestines. He let you call him Suguru, but only because he knew you loved it, and if you loved it and you loved him, you would worship him. You would be his, and that’s all he needs, a devoted follower to support his goal.

“Open,” He says, squeezing your throat. Your mouth falls open and your tongue rolls out, and he spits directly on your tongue. “Don’t swallow it. Let me see.” You nod, your tongue hanging out as he fucks you, his spit dripping onto your chin. The sight makes his cock twitch, you look so pathetic and stupid, and he can’t wait to hit you later and make you cry for disobeying him and gagging on his cock. If you couldn’t follow a simple order, what could you do?

The combination of his big cock in your tight little cunt, his spit on your tongue, and his hand around your throat is too much and you cum, squeezing and clenching around him. He laughs triumphantly, squeezing your throat even tighter. He slaps you again, not because you did anything wrong, but because he loved the pathetic look in your eyes as the hit registered. His hand tightens to the point of strangulation as he cums inside you, burying himself deep at the hilt. He leans his forehead on your chest as the cum spurts out of his cock, painting your insides white. This is the closest you’ll ever get to being his.

He pulls out, climbs off of you, and leaves the room. You lay there for a second, catching your breath, basking in your post-orgasm haze. You shakily stand up and head into his bathroom, cleaning yourself up. You leave the dried spit and smeared mascara, knowing Suguru will like that more.

Once you return to his bed, he’s already lying down, a drink in hand. He isn’t even looking at you and all you can do is admire his beauty. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t understand how you got this lucky. You lay next to him, your head on his bicep as he stares out the window, deep in thought.

After a long, comfortable pause, you speak. “Suguru?”

He looks down at you, a look of disinterest on his face. “Yes?”

You lick your lips, fiddling with your hands. You pick at the skin around your thumbs when you get nervous, and your eye twitches as you break the skin once again. Finally, you speak, “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?” His eyes narrow for a second before he smiles, leaning down towards you. You feel his hot breath on your face and you bite your lip, wondering if this will be the day he finally kisses you.

He chuckles, pushing some hair out of your face. “What makes you think we’re soulmates in this one?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

am i okay? maybe

[sunshine-theseus]

Lego House | Aggie Beever-Jones x Reader

Words: 3.8k Summary: 2 years together basically means forever, no matter what happens. inspired by Ed Sheeran’s ‘Lego House’ Warnings: injury, you guys know I don’t stick to actual events so, slightly suggestive maybe? this is for me but also kinda for @perfectpersuasion because they seemed really excited about it

“Headphones?”

“Check.”

“Chargers?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Double check.”

“Then why am I 100% sure it’s still in your top draw?” I dramatically reach across to my bag to prove that my passport is in fact packed safely in the secret pocket that I designated purely to the piece of identification.

But it’s empty, and I have to bashfully turn back to Aggie to admit it isn’t where it’s supposed to be. She only gives me a pointed look and I’m standing up and dragging my feet behind me to grab the passport from my bedside table draw.

“I swear I put it in there Ags. Last night after training.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re doing the checklist. It happens every time, you forget something.” Once I slide the small book into my bag I drop back down onto our couch, leaning into my girlfriend. She wraps her arms around me, and I bury my head in her neck, feeling the regretful late-night yesterday setting in.

“Come on we’ve got to be boarding the bus in an hour and who knows how long it’ll take us to get there.”

~~~~~

Naturally Aggie and I sit next to each other on the bus and/or the plane when the team travels for matches. We usually take a spot toward the back, or wherever is least populated or energetic, so that we can just be there together. Our hands are almost always interlocked and I’m usually leaning on her shoulder as we talk about our play or whatever interesting things going on.

“I’m nervous.” I whisper in her ear as we begin the decent into Gothenburg.

“Everyone underestimates us because we’re young, so when you get on that pitch, either starting or as a sub, you show them you belong at Chelsea, and that we belong in the Champions League. Okay?” When she looks at me to confirm my answer I lean forward, pressing a small kiss to her lips.

A flash goes off in the corner of my eye and I turn to find Zecira holding the media crew camera.

“The fans are going to love that.” Smiling a toothy grin, she turns to someone else, leaving us be.

-

The dark December sky encourages the cold and the light dusting of snow that begins to cover the tarmac. I wrap an arm around Aggie’s as we wheel our bags into the airport, trying not to fall face first on the slippery surface.

The warmth inside is welcomed as we are guided past the large crowds and onto the bus. Once again, I take my spot beside Aggie, behind Jessie and Niamh who were talking about Jessie’s new favourite tea. A calmness settles over everyone as Emma announces who’s rooming with who, which we all basically already know. 9 times out of 10 it’s the person currently sitting next to us.

Opening the door to our room brings great relief as I flop onto the bed closest to the window. Despite the two queen sized beds on either side of the room, it was inevitable that I’d end up curled up in my girlfriend’s arms as we huddle under the blankets, the other bed left untouched. This also usually meant that our room was the one to come to for activities, an extra bed meaning more space.

Aggie stands staring out the window, the city spanning across the horizon as the sun begins the set, the blue barely beginning to fade into purples and pinks. Old buildings and the river that runs through the architecture draw her eye as I stand behind her, taking in the way her body rises as she breathes, and the twitch in her lips as she spots something she finds beautiful, a certain spark in her eye. One that’s always there when she looks at me, hard to ignore.

“Did you bring your camera?” I ask as I slot in beside her. A hum in answer suffices as we take in the moment.

“We’re really here. Together.” I press kisses to her shoulder.

“Stamford Bridge is one thing but, we’re playing in the fucking Champions League. We’re not sat on the bench forever, we actually get minutes, not matter how little.”

“And we’re going to fucking win tomorrow’s match. Consider it an extra anniversary present.” Aggie chuckles and I feel the butterflies that burst to life in my stomach every time I look at her.

My mind drifts to the real present that sits carefully in a compartment of my bag for our anniversary tomorrow. My mum insisted it was perfect for Aggie and despite my hesitancy, I had to agree.

“We should head down for dinner.” Aggie leans down to kiss me before we leave.

~~~~~

Emma gave us a few hours to explore the city in the morning before we had to begin training and warming up for tonight's match. Jessie, Niamh and Zecira join us in the foyer, and we start our journey through the Swedish city, Zecira eager to introduce us to her country's traditions.

Not long into the walk, we stumble upon a small café on a terrace. We slide into a table and order our respective drinks, Aggie additionally getting a kardemummabröd, cardamom bread, for us to share. Niamh refuses to be apart of the picture that I take of the group at the table, but I manage to convince her to smile for the camera as we head back down onto the street.

The group splits into 2 after that. Aggie and I leave to seek out some flowers and a quiet spot to spend time together for our anniversary, while the others head back to the hotel, desperate to stay warm, although Jessie doesn’t seem to mind the cold winds.

“Look! They have red carnations!” Aggie is the one to point out the flower stand, full of red and green, that holds bunches of my favourite flower.

When the shop owner sees our linked hands, she smiles, the corner of her eyes wrinkling as they light up.

“For free.” She pushes Aggie’s hand away as she tries to pay for the red carnations.

“Love is enough payment.” I slip some money onto the bench as we leave, heading to an empty but rather beautiful park across the road.

“Happy anniversary.” I press a kiss to her cheek as I hand her the small bag. Inquisitively, she opens it and the box that sits on the bottom, revealing the gift.

“It’s a family ring. Handed down through a bunch of generations. The oldest kid gets it to give to their partner, the one they and the family think is the one. The person they’ll spend the rest of their life with, who makes them the best them.” I explain the origins as I take the ring from the box and slip it onto her hand. The gold band holds a small, encrusted peridot gem and fits perfectly on Aggie’s hand.

“Thank you. I love it.” Her voice is soft and watery, and her cheeks flame red when she looks at me. I can only imagine the love that adorns my face as I look at her. I’m about to kiss her when she has a moment of realisation.

“I left your gift in the fucking room.” The sweet moment is broken as she throws her head back and groans, and I can’t help but let out a hearty laugh.

“It’s okay.” I place a hand on top of the one she has on my thigh.

“Nooo we won’t have time when we get back, you’ll have to wait until tonight and that’s unfair.”

“I don’t even expect gifts Ags, just you and me. Plus, you got me my flowers. My favourite flowers from my favourite person. Sounds pretty good to me.”

“I’m your favourite person yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Her finger links through the thin gold chain that hangs around my neck.

“Show me then.” Her voice is raspy and deep as she pulls me forward by the necklace until our lips meet. It’s a hot and heavy kiss considering where we are, but I reciprocate it none-the-less.

I go to pull away, but she pulls me back in and I end up on her lap as we make out on the park bench. Her hands grip my thighs and mine hold the back of her head… Until we remember we’re on a park bench.

“That was kinda hot. Definitely a good make up present.” I smile down at her as our foreheads rest against each other.

“Emma’s going to kill us if we don’t head back soon…” Aggie is adamant that we begin walking to the hotel so we’re not late, so we walk hand in hand through the cold, barely arriving in time.

-

Training and warm up went well. The schedule was easy to adapt to and we weren’t pushing excessively as to waste energy before the match.

In saying that, we were up 2-1 when I got subbed on in the 60th minute, replacing Lj who wasn’t feeling all too well at half time. I felt good and energised, ready to make my second UWCL appearance.

Sam and I were gelling well together as we often did, making passes and taking shots on goal, only to be blocked by the Hacken keeper. It was a hard game but we were winning.

Aggie gets subbed on in the 68th minute, along with Jessie. The ball rarely makes it back past us, Erin often making a run with the ball toward us. Eventually Aggie passes me the ball and I try to gage my surroundings. Sam is offside, passing back to Aggie would be a mistake, Jessie’s surrounded. Erin has a clear path and shot of the goal.

I begin to run, and right as the ball connects with my foot, flying toward Erin, a body knocks against mine and my knee buckles. Nothing feels real as I fall to the floor, a loud pop filling my ears as pain radiates through my knee. I let out a blood curdling scream, but it isn’t heard over the cheering of Chelsea fans as Erin hits the ball into the goal.

I toss around on the grass, holding my leg and slamming a hand repeatedly against the ground as I sob and wale, waiting for someone to notice. It’s Sophie who places a hand on my back and yells for the ref, who then yells for the medics.

Aggie drops down in front of me as we wait, and I try and reach for her hand. The task finds itself to be difficult as my own hand shakes and my vision is blurred by tears.

“It’s- it’s my ACL.” A loud sob slips from my lips despite my attempt to hold it back.

“You don’t kn-”

“I know it Ags. I know it is I swear.”

“Okay, okay. It’ll be okay. The medics are here to look at it okay?” I nod as their hands grasp my leg, asking whether certain movements hurt or not.

It’s when I see them wave for the orange stretcher that things feel real again. Like everything was happening in slow motion until that moment. And I begin to cry again, my head now resting in Aggie’s lap as she runs a hand through my hair.

Every movement hurts as they transfer me from the ground to the stretcher, and I try not to scream out. A couple of the girls walk alongside me until the sideline, where Aggie grabs my hand and kisses me.

“I’ll come see you as soon as I can, okay?” I nod and watch as she runs back onto the pitch, her head turning every few steps to look at me, worry set in her eyes.

Turns out ‘as soon as I can’ would be much later. The medics had decided that instead of waiting until tomorrow or until we were back in England for a scan, it’d be best to go straight to the hospital. So we did.

Despite the usual wait to receive scan results, I’m sent back to the hall to wait for them. While waiting for the radiographer to call my name, Emma messages me asking if I wanted the team there. I decline the offer, knowing the girls would be exhausted after the last game of 2023 and would just want to sleep.

That doesn’t stop Aggie showing up.

I can hear the pounding of shoes hitting the linoleum ground, someone clearly running, but I don’t give it much thought as I scroll mindless on my phone. When she crouches in front of me, hands on my thigh to keep herself balanced, I have to try not to show how relieved I am. I knew what the results would be but hearing it makes it all the more real and I needed my girlfriend to hold my hand.

“Did we win?” a soft chuckle fills the air, and she nods as I put my phone in my pocket.

“3-1, because of your pass to Erin.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I’m aware of the glum look on my face as Aggie sits on the ground in front of me, allowing me to braid her hair repeatedly as we talk, waiting for the results.

“Ms L/n?” Aggie is quick to stand and turn to face the doctor while I struggle with the crutches.

“We know you already know what’s wrong but, to confirm, you’ve ruptured your anterior cruciate ligament in your right knee. You’ll be referred to a doctor and surgeon in England so you can arrange the surgery as soon as possible once you get home. I’m terribly sorry.” she leaves us with a woeful smile and the only thing I have to stop me from spiralling is Aggie’s hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll get through this. We will get through this. I’ll be there every step of the way. So will the girls. And if you fall down, I’ll pick you back up.” She kisses me on the forehead, and we begin the walk out to the parking lot, waiting for someone to pick us up.

-

Most people are asleep or relaxing in their rooms or the meal room by the time we get back to the hotel. Emma gives me a hug but doesn’t encourage us to stay or talk to anyone, knowing I’ll want to be alone with Aggie for a while.

“Getting on the plane tomorrow is going to be a challenge.” I try to laugh off the thought of all the normal activities that won’t be easy anymore as I shift onto my side of the bed.

“I’ll carry you, bridal style.” With that, Aggie hands me a gift, the gift she forgot on our date earlier in the day.

The box is rather heavy, and when I take off the lid, I find a photo album. It’s hard not to smile at the photo of us kissing that’s stuck to the cover.

“A page for every day we’ve spent together. For every day I’ve loved you.” I flick through the pages, reading some of the notes around the photos.

“This is why you take a photo of us every day?”

“I also just love capturing your beauty.” I pull her close to me and kiss her.

“I love you so much.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

~~~~~

I ended up having my surgery on Christmas day. Aggie and my family had planned on having a big day together, opening presents and having a feed, and I felt guilty taking the joy away. There wasn’t really any other choice. Aggie held me the night before as I cried. Our bed felt like the only safe place, even in our apartment, so that’s usually where I stayed. The increase in rain felt very fitting for how I’d been feeling.

Once everyone started coming back from the Christmas break, our place became more lively. I still used a singular crutch just in case, but for the most part I could put solid weight on my leg again, which meant I was able to do more activities with the team. We would hold game nights and/or movie nights once a week and occasionally I’d cook a Sunday roast.

Eventually Aggie began to take me to training. I wasn’t able to do anything, but I enjoyed watching the girls and just being in the environment again. It also made me happy watching Aggie play, it was when she looked the most carefree, despite others claiming that was when she was with me.

Aggie hadn’t left my side. Helping me shower and do the exercises for my knee. She always made sure I was entertained and asked if I needed help. Most of our spare time together was spent with me wrapped in her arms, watching a shitty tv show or talking.

“What did the doc say?”

“The ligament is looking good. They still think I’m on track for getting back in the gym in May, test out that anti-gravity treadmill.”

“And you got the team physio check up tomorrow yeah?” I hum as I adjust myself in her arms, head slotting into the crook of her neck.

I was having weekly check-ups with the Chelsea medical team and my own physio, which made it rather nerve wracking, wondering if one would feel the same as the other. If we weren’t all on the same page, my recovery time could be pushed further back. The team physio check up was the last one to confirm that I’d be allowed to start training and building stamina back up next month.

-

When I arrived at Cobham in the training kit, I felt really good. Some of the girls who pulled up at the same time as us were screaming across the car park and wishing me luck in my first session back.

I knew I’d be stuck in the gym for at least 2 months before I was allowed back on the pitch. Even then it’d be another couple of months before I was properly training with the team again, but this was the first step, and nothing could take that joy from me.

The girls started their mornings off in the gym, which meant they were cheering me on and helping me as the trainers gave me exercises to do. Aggie spends most of the hour doing the exercises alongside me, only leaving to complete something mandatory or to get us more water.

“You don’t have to Ags. You should focus on your training.”

“I promised I’d be here every step of the way. I’ll do it all for you.” She locks the leg extension and gives me a hand to help me up.

“Now onto the anti-gravity machine. First time huh?” she gently bumps me with her shoulder as I get ready to step into the chamber before Lily, my designated trainer, enables the ‘anti-gravity.’

“Oh this feels weird.” The way my body lifts with every step eases the pressure on my knee as I start to get used to it.

“Look at you! This is so cool.” Aggie doesn’t stop smiling as she watches me, some of the other girls occasionally making their way over to watch.

-

As predicted, 2 months later I begin training on the pitch. It felt lonely, watching the girls and being so close to joining them, yet so far. But I knew I was nearly there. Lily helped me with building up speed and getting used to the feel of the boots and grass again. Then came shooting practice; standing, getting passed a ball, and shooting. Eventually we added the training mannequins and Lily played goalkeeper as I manoeuvre around the pitch and obstacles.

Aggie likes to join us at lunch or sometimes gets excused by Emma to help me.

“Aggiiiie. I’m supposed to have the ball you’re supposed to just block me.”

“You gotta fight for the ball or take it off someone at some point.” Her cheeks are that beautiful pink as she grins at me.

“I hate you.” I puff out as I try to catch my breath.

“I’m wounded.” A hand falls to her heart before she approaches me, the ball still at her feet, and she leans in for a kiss.

“Nuh uh you’re being mean.”

“No I am not! Please one kiss.”

“Fine.” As she closes her eyes again and leans in, I swipe the ball from underneath her and start to run to the goal.

“What the fuck!?”

“Get better babe!” I take a shot around Lily, although not very hard considering her lack of goalkeeper training, and watch as it slots into the back of the net.

-

“73 minutes in and number 10 Lauren James is being subbed off! Who for? It’s Y/n L/n making her first appearance of the 24/25 season after rupturing her ACL in the Champion’s League in December last year. Her first game in 326 days at a sold-out Stamford Bridge! And who else is there to walk with her onto the pitch, if not her girlfriend and one of Chelsea’s star strikers, Aggie Beever Jones. Today is a great day for it.”

I try not to cry as Aggie takes my hand, making my way to my position. The cheer from the crowd as I jog on is deafening and I clap back at them before the ref blows the whistle.

Not long into play, Aggie makes a run forward, and I find a clear space between players near the goal and call for the ball. She kicks it and it soars through the air, making contact with my head as I jump. The net ripples as it skims passed the Arsenal keeper, and I’m making a run for Aggie to celebrate.

“First game back and you scored! Let’s fucking go!” she grabs me by my face and pulls me in. The kiss is unexpected but welcome in celebration.

We win 4-0, and Aggie and I find ourselves tangled up in our sheets, tracing patterns on each other’s bare skin as we whisper messages of love and adoration for the other.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“You did everything for me.”

Y/N_L/N

Y/N_L/N: this is a thank you letter to the one who’s stood by me for 3 years. who’s loved and cared for me when I didn’t think anyone would. a year ago today I ruptured my ACL, on our anniversary, and in the year since then we’ve only grown stronger, loved each other harder, fallen deeper. i'd do it all for you, like you did for me

---------

Beth and Viv’s new doco on their ACL journey really helped me with writing this. Obviously not everyone’s journey is the same so I tried to make it as different as I could with ruining it all together. I hope they’re proud of the doc because it’s really going to help people, and hopefully encourage more funding in researching the ACL injuries in women’s football and help with creating boots designed for women, so it lowers the risk of injuries like ACLs.