#that was a terrible thing to say to you especially now

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Miquella vs Ranni: Loyalty and Love

SPOILERS FOR SHADOW OF THE ERDTREE UNDER THE CUT, BUT COME FOR MY THOUGHTS!

There are so many essays I could write, comparing Ranni and Miquella, but I'm going to contain myself and focus on the most important aspect of comparisons: how they treat the concepts of love and loyalty and the people who give that to them. Especially in light of Miquella's instant kill "Heart Steal" attack.

The thing about Miquella is, even though he's kind, even though he's compassionate, he DOES NOT VALUE love and loyalty. And why should he? It's always been given freely to him. He can just force someone to love him anyway, stealing their heart. So, the people who love him are disposable, treated like pawns. Malenia? Literally left to rot in the home they built together. Mohg? Turned into a glorified guard dog. Even Radahn, turned into his perfect consort.

And Miquella probably does love them, but his perception of love is completely skewed by the nature of the fact that EVERYONE loves him. It's something he just gets. Something he uses.

Compassion and love are Miquella's weapons. They're what he uses to protect himself. It's cheap, something he can get easily.

Now, compare that to Ranni.

For Ranni, love and loyalty are dangerous. She's seen how ruinous and terrible they can be. She's seen her mother's mind wither away, a consequence of Radagon breaking her heart. She's seen Radagon break Rennala's heart for his love of the Golden Order.

The only people who loved her unconditionally are Blaidd and Iji, and even Iji's more around out of loyalty to the House of Caria than love for Ranni.

That is to say, Ranni respects and understands the power of love more than Miquella ever could.

Think of how she tells you to leave her to her lonely path. Her engagement ring, engraved with a warning to stay away, that her destiny is cold and lonely. Ranni pushes people away for their own safety, and that makes her love all the more valuable.

Love, for Ranni, is something at once dangerous and precious. The despondent way she tells you, once you've defeated the Baleful Shadow, to tell Blaidd and Iji that she loves them. Ranni knows what their love has cost them. Knows what it has bought her. She respects love and is naturally wary of it.

And that's what makes it so valuable.

Miquella doesn't appreciate love, because he's always had it.

Ranni treasures it because she's always struggled with it.

God, I love this game.

[fizzbot]

APOLOGY TOUR SPOILERS / HELLUVA BOSS CRITICAL POST

(please just dont read if youre a fan/are gonna be annoying in my tags/replies)

i LOVE verosika. i was super excited to see an episode all about her. she has EVERY right to be mad at blitz, and i do enjoy seeing things from the perspective of his victims. BUT.....i was really disappointed in her portrayal in apology tour. MOSTLY just because i was dissapointed in stolas portrayal in apology tour, and think this ep wouldve been better if it was more about BLITZ instead. rant under the cut

im not gonna give the whole rant about how annoying it is that stolas is constantly woobified, because 100 critical blogs have done it much more gracefully than i ever could. but it is just SO dissapointing to watch a man that couldve been SUCH a compelling villain be the ONLY one who is EVER sympathized with in the show. we are supposed to feel bad for him and believe that both sides are wrong in the stolitz situation, when stolas' crimes are SO MUCH WORSE than all of blitzs bad deeds combined. he co-erced blitz into a sex contract as the only means of doing his job, and then made HIM feel guilty for not falling n love with him during it. the 'both sides are in the wrong' comment gets particularly frustrating when the show has, tme and time again, only let stolas be the one with support. blitz is made to look unreasonable, no matter how right he is. and, in this instance, stolas is the one getting invited to this party to celebrate being ""wronged"" by blitz.

back to verosika. especially now that the episode is out, i am even more firmly on her side. the fact that blitz broke up with HER because things were getting too serious is interesting (albiet not as interesting as i think it couldve been but thats a rant for another post). im not saying she should forgive blitz, but i do struggle to fully agree with her because of how she treated stolas in the episode. she is the first to comfort him, the first to try and encourage him to shit-talk blitz, etc etc and i just dont understand.....why?

ive already had problems with her character since the sexual assault ""joke"" from spring broken, but this also really left a bad taste in my mouth. i totally understand her desire to party and sympathize with other people who were harmed by blitz, but its frustrating that stolas was invited to be among them. stolas, the man who is very much NOT THE VICTIM in his relationship with blitz. this is more the fault of the writers than verosika herself, but it is SO FRUSTRATING that she gave him the spotlight and is trying to help him heal from a situation that is ENTIRELY HIS FAULT. stolas didnt just hurt blitzs feelings, he sexually coerced and abused him. of all people, shouldnt verosika understand how terrible that can be? the kind of hurt that can do to a person? im not saying that this terrible relationship FORGIVES blitz's wrongdoings, but you shouldnt be giving his fucking abuser a stage and a microphone to talk shit about his victim. this becomes so much more insidious to me with the conversation she has with blitz on the balcony, later. this was actually a pretty good scene imo but it could certainly be better.

this is much more opinionated and i wouldnt be surprised if even the critical community isnt with me on this one, but i long for an alternate verson of this episode thats focused on verosika being on blitz's side, instead. its been over 5 years since they dated, and even though she is still allowed to be mad, it would be nice to see that shes moved on. maybe give her a new partner like barbie wire and let her throw these parties just so she can look back and laugh and help blitz's other victims heal in the same way that she has. not to bring up an also not-great show, but in rick and morty, we see a relationship between rick and one of his ex-partners named unity. they were really terrible for each other, enabling bad/unhealthy behaviors, generally being awful. their break-up was messy, but in recent seasons, we see unity coming back, upon hearing that rick was doing something self-destructive. they worried about him, because a part of them still cared, as much as they were hurt by his actions. i would have LOVED to see a similar thing with blitz and verosika, where verosika finds out about the relationship blitz is trapped in/just got out of. i think it would be SO MUCH MORE naratively interesting, for her to be supportive of his little apology tour, and maybe even inviting HIM to the "blitzo sucks" party. not everyone (or anyone) needs to forgive him; in fact, i think coming to this party would give him perspective. his relationship with stolas has hurt him so badly, he can finally step back and understand the harm that he did to all these people. the apologies that he gave, as he admits in the episode, were shallow. but i think framing stolas as the toxic one would be better in helping him realize that he has done wrong more than what the show is currently doing. and maybe some people at the party WILL forgive him. maybe he can apologize on the stage, and some people will empathize with his situation and believe that the apology is genuine, because hes finally had to be on the other end of his own hurt. and maybe THAT would be the first step in helping blitz realize that maybe he isnt completely unlovable, because there are people who cared about him enough to be THIS DEVASTATED upon getting their heart broken by him. a conversation with verosika about what he did to her would hit so much harder after this, imo

anyway. im sorry if this is completely incoherent/a bad point. i was just thinking about it and i am so sick of everyone being a stolas apologist </3

[xoxochb]

Hi!! It’s like my first time requesting so please prepare for the amount of times I type out ‘like’😭 I hope you have/had a good day!!

So percy is kind of like the person that everybody has had a crush on at least once, right?

Basically, percy likes the reader and let’s also say that they’re one of the most nicest people on camp but, today they’re kind of irritated because they had a bad day. To add onto it, percy tries to talk to reader but they’re like so irritated that they accidentally raise their voice at him and reader apologizes to percy. But this leaves percy kind of sad and he’s overthinking, reader—a few days after the incident—goes up to percy and apologizes, they give him like a small gift bag(??). Percy, having feelings for reader, is ecstatic/giddy because of this and is also kind of taken aback from this, he plays it off and acts all nonchalant about it but he somehow makes it so painfully obvious as well. So the whole day, he just kind of sits around and admires the reader.

But turns out that the reader also likes Percy and their siblings kind of tease them about the gift basket. The reader also admires percy whenever he’s not looking at them. (This can just be a little bonus!!)

If you need specifics, can the reader be from cabin 10/Aphrodite’s cabin (but like it’s up to you!!😭) and uhm maybe fem!reader (?)

Anyways, have a nice day!!🫶🫶

⋆·˚ ༘ * looking at you got me thinking nonsense

warnings: none

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite

summary: read the request!

you were the camp sweetheart, a pure soul. everyone admired you and your generous demeanor, but today you were in an irritated mood from being packed with camp duties along with a few personal favors

it started this morning when you had gotten up early to the screaming of your siblings (they had been rudely accusing each other of stealing their clothes), then you had to help set up a breakfast double-date, archery practice after, you didn’t have time for lunch because one of your friends needed urgent love advice, then you had offered to wash the dishes after lunch, and now it’s four in the afternoon, you haven’t had any time to relax

even now when you were supposed to be relaxing you couldn’t find your favorite lipgloss so you had to tear up the cabin to find it, which you didn’t, because that’s what your still doing after twenty minutes of searching

but soon enough your search was interrupted by your favorite son of poseidon, percy jackson

you usually would have been happy to see him but today every little thing- even the smallest thing- would add on to your irritation

“I haven’t seen you all day” he states

“yeah, well, I’ve been busy. I don’t always have time to see you, you know?” you open one of your siblings drawers, disappointed to see your lipgloss was not there

percy knows something’s up because you never talk to anyone like that- especially him “are you alright? have you eaten today? I know you’ve been busy”

“I’m fine! If you really knew that I was busy you would leave me alone” you snap

he frowns at the tone of your voice “oh… I’m sorry. I’m gonna go, we’ll talk later?”

“whatever” you mumble

percy leaves cabin ten with a sad demeanor. what had he done to anger you? he lays awake that night wondering what he did so wrong to make you- the nicest girl he knew- out of all people so frustrated with him

little does he know, you lay awake also wondering why you snapped at him. he was only trying to be nice. he was concerned for you, he cared for you more than anyone and you treated him terribly

how could you make him forgive you?

💌

for the next few days you think of how you’re going to make it up to percy, he deserved more than just a simple ‘I’m sorry’

as your skipping rocks on the water you realize what you have to do. you quickly stand up and rush to the edge of the water, where you search for as many tiny seashells as you can find and once you get back to your cabin you begin making your present

when you finish it you put it in a small box with a pink bow on top- your specialty

unfortunately for you, you were caught by silena with the box in your hand

“what’s that?” she smirks

“it’s nothing, I have to go do something, sorry” you try to rush past her but she stops you

“who’s it for?”

“nobody”

“you’re not leaving until you tell me”

you sigh knowing this information was indeed true

“It’s for percy”

she nods with a victory smile knowing she’s got what she wants

“go get him”

you thank her before rushing to cabin three, which you find him exiting

“percy!” you run over to him “can we talk?”

“of course”

“great, uhm, so first I wanted to say that I’m so sorry for the other day, I was so busy and I had nothing to eat, not even a cup of coffee! you know how I get when I don’t have coffee. but anyways I was so irritated with everything, and you came in right when I was in the middle of looking for my lipgloss and I was getting angry because I couldn’t find it and I just took anger out on you, and I swear it had nothing to do with you, I lov- you’re my best friend, I would never mean to hurt you on purpose” you ramble “I made this for you” you hand him the small box

If you were anyone else percy would’ve hated getting a present with a pink bow on top, but since it was you he could never hate it

“as much as I love you giving me a gift… why are you giving me this?”

“I felt bad about the other day, you deserve more than just an apology”

percy was trying to act chill about this but it was you! the most gorgeous girl at camp- but if you asked percy he would’ve said in the universe.

and you were standing in with him in front of his cabin giving him a gift, looking at him with a loving look!! he swore his heart was about to explode out of his chest any moment

but besides his heartbeat, his face was adorned with a bright red hue “thank you” he tries to fight a wide grin, he didn’t want to appear as a lovesick fool (although the was)

“you’re welcome” you smile and plant a kiss on his red cheek “will I see you later?”

“yes! yeah, definitely, of course” he stumbles over his words

“great! you can come to my cabin after dinner, I’ll see you then!” you kiss his other cheek before giggling and skipping your way to the dining pavilion

💌

at dinner percy couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. how could he? that can’t be possible! you looked beautiful laughing with your siblings, and the sound of your laugh oh gods, it was oxygen to him, truly.

and your smile? don’t even get him started because he’ll never finish, he could go on about your smile for eternity

your voice? as soft as a newly washed blanket, he wanted your voice injected in his veins if that was even possible, which he was sure it wasn’t, but if there was a way he would do it

and over at aphrodite cabin you snuck glances over at percy whenever you could (which was whenever your siblings weren’t looking, they would tease you forever)

however every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, then you would both look away quickly trying to pretend you never made eye contact, but you both knew you did

the same way you both knew that tonight you would’ve gave percy the kiss he had been longing for since he first saw you under the twinkling moonlight

[thefooljester]

could u write maybe a little fic/scenerio where reader and Toby are in a very like calm, relaxed, comfortable environment, I’d say Toby and reader are very close. Anyways Toby takes off his mask and reader is admiring his scars. With a more gentle gaze, not judging or disgusted. And that’s when Toby realizes he likes reader!

What a cute request! + big thanks for the compliment you left in my anon box, i appreciate it alot :3 i hope you like this (and i'm sorry for specifying the reader's gender like this, i just didn't know how to rewrite this as gn in the "scenraio") - - - - - -

toby realizes he’s in love [+ scenario?]

features: ticci toby

reader: female

warnings: maybe body horror? idk scar description but not graphic, i promise

...

You don’t mind Toby’s scars and treat him kindly – He realizes that he loves you Meeting:

"Oh. ...Oh. I... I didn't expect... I mostly tutor kids, but... u-um... Are you...", you looked down at your clipboard, "...Tobias?"

Said man in question could only nod at your inquiry, not really expecting someone like you to open the door either. It happened on a whim, as most things in his life do, but he really did want to put time and effort into finding a tutor to learn more - or rather... relearn everything.

It might be a bit difficult, simply because he never graduated high school and, on top of everything, forgot most things about his childhood, only really remembering some core memories ...most of them terrible.

Toby really wanted to participate in society again, though. He's left his "previous occupation" behind and ignored the voices in his head... and the static. He wants to put all of that behind him and start anew.

But. Um... He expected a kind older lady, someone who'd remind him of his mother – did he even have a mother, by the way? He doesn’t remember – or something, not... you. You were basically his age and you were so nice to him so far, despite his battered appearance.

"Is everything okay?" Your eyes swam around nervously. ...or so he thought.

"I have Tourette's. The tics are normal, don't worry." He replied without thinking, a sigh escaping his lips. He's needed to explain himself a million times already... What's one more time going to change? Still, he thought that… he’d seem like less of a freak these days.

"Yeah, okay... but... I meant... Don't you want to come in? I don't usually teach outside. Is that uncomfortable? I promise I have no ulterior motives or anything. You… didn’t reply to me…"

Oh. Right. Yeah. Right! Toby smiled, conscious of the bandage covering the gash in his cheek. The wound has healed up by now, but had never been able to close up entirely. He knew that normal people would find it quite gross to look at, especially because drool would sometimes seep out of the literal hole in his cheek. And... He didn't want to scare you away.

"I...I-I'll come in, thank you." He said bashfully.

He looked around curiously. He's been living with Tim and Brian in a cabin for so long that he forgot how regular homes look... especially because he's never been at a girl's - um, woman's - house before. It was... very nice.

"Do you want something to drink? I have water, tea, coffee, juice... milk?, probably. Whatever you want."

He wanted to nod, feeling his mouth dry up and his heart flutter in nervousness by merely looking into your eyes, …but then quickly shook his head instead, remembering his scarred face. He'd have to tilt his head so far back to ensure that no liquid escape his mouth, otherwise you'd definitekly grow suspicious. He can't have that.

"O-okay. Just ask if you want something, yeah? Let's see... I... well, I mostly teach everything up to 8th grade but most p-parents want me to teach Math and Science. What do your k-kids need help with, if you don't mind me asking?"

You're really gentle... He liked that a lot about you. He would almost claim that he'd felt safe around you if he hadn't been so hyper-aware of himself.

"My kids?" Toby wanted to giggle but only managed a wry smile – did he look so old? - and added,”I… need a teacher…” "You need a teacher?" You repeated, tilting your head to the side with wide eyes, at which Toby blushed, "I... Forgive me, but... I might have misjudged your appearance. I thought you were an adult, but if you’re in 10th grade and about to graduate, then I don't kn..."

"No, no, I am. I am an adult." He looked away from you, embarrassed about admitting this, "I'm 24, but... I dropped out. Years ago. I want to learn everything now though... to get a job...and yeah." Toby has never felt this awkward in his entire life. Never - and he's had his moments. Here he was, confessing his messy circumstances to a stunning, intelligent woman.

God should just strike him down right now.

"Tobias, sorry, but... I'm no real teacher. I can't give you a high school diploma or any other qualification." You looked disappointed on his behalf. You definitely had a kind heart.

"That's fine... I didn't expect that much when I contacted you. I'm doing this for me." He added, nervously chewing on his bottom lip before he stopped, knowing that it was weird.

You looked to be deep in thought, considering his reasoning.

It would only be fair if you shot him down now. If anything, he expected as much.

"Then... sure. Yeah! I think it's admirable, to be honest. You're a good guy, I'm happy to teach you!"

Ah, don't play with his heart like that...

"You can just call me Toby, by the way. Everyone does..." "Okay, Toby." You chuckled, causing him to shuffle his feet…

He so wasn’t used to this.

...

Listen. I don’t want to be the first one to say it but someone has to say it: Toby is a loser – like, socially speaking. He cannot talk to people, how was he supposed to talk to women? Such a beautiful one at that… and you smiled at him… as shallow as it may be, that alone was enough to have him interested in you.

Now, he wouldn’t ever dare to openly flirt with you! He thinks that the relationship you two have is strictly platonic! Even if he becomes good friends with you, even if he appreciates you so much for selflessly helping him… all platonic. Toby doesn’t like you, okay! You’re just a close friend who helps him through his hardships and offers great life advice. He can’t deal with rejection.

Plus… well, he wouldn’t ever dream of admitting his feelings to himself because he knew that you wouldn’t want this whole mess.

...That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to be near. Far from it! He wants to be around you all the time, and he adores the fact that you’ve become so comfortable with him that you invite him over.

On such a day, you admitted that you just wanted to have someone with you because you had a stressful week. Work has been difficult and you had to deal with some personal problems on top of everything. You told him that you needed him “here” because he “never fails to cheer you up”… No, Toby! Hold your horses, she obviously doesn’t mean it like that… But his heart never stops fluttering, even if he tries ignoring it.

It’s been some time since you met and you, over these past months, fell into a quaint routine that mostly involved you two sitting on the couch… comfortably close to one another. Still… all platonic though. Friends can sit next to each other and talk until the sun comes up… all while he’s nervously bouncing his leg and sweating like crazy. It’s perfectly normal!

He notices that you’re quieter than usually… and offers to hug you – impulsive decision… he was about to take it back and apologize, but you just muttered a “please.”

How could he deny any of your pleas?

Awkwardly, he put his pale arm around your shoulder, breath shaky as soon as he felt your warmth against his scarred skin.

Boldly, he tried pushing his luck by laying his head on top of yours as a way to get even closer to you, but your pout and quiet whine made him shoot up and get away from you immediately. Toby was ready to apologize in multiple languages at that point.

“Your bandage scratched me… it’s itchy…”

Oh. Of course. Why didn’t he think of that? He only wanted to please you.

So he took it off with a boyish grin, immediately noticing how your eyes zeroed in on… oh. Oh my God! How could he forget?!

“Sorry! Sorry, I-I wasn’t thinking?! I know it’s, l-listen, I know that it’s… uh…”

Shit. He wanted to die. That thing was beyond obvious…

“Did it hurt?” You asked gently, your hand hovering just above the gash that revealed parts of his gums and teeth, the very scar that proved his past mistakes for everyone who had eyes.

“No?” Toby replied, sheepishly smiling down at you… he couldn’t feel pain – he told you as much, but you… you still wanted to know. You just wanted to make this easier on his soul, didn't you? Your kindness knows no limits, but you don't have to lie to him...

“Are you sure? You… Can I touch your cheek?”

He… was he going deaf?

“Sure…”

He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, not wanting to be faced with the disgust you’d surely express once you realized how hard and damaged the scar tissue is… how much courage it took him to look in the mirror sometimes… He knew that is was a grim sight, that is was gross and… just branded him as the sicko he is, deep down.

Your touch burned him. He wanted to cry at your feather-like caresses that traced the edges of his damaged skin, humming at its strange texture.

“I’m just glad it healed up nicely.”

He opened his eyes. Yours were filled with concern… and relief, mostly. You… you were so tender, weren’t you? How could he doubt you for a second… of course you wouldn’t judge or gag at the sight. Of course you’d accept him.

Toby felt his cheeks burn – and if he were able to observe himself, he would have seen that his pupils dilated, practically exploding with love for you.

Oh, he was down bad.

[drama-glob]

SPOILERS FOR "APOLOGY TOUR!!!"

Oh this episode hurt, especially the ending. ;_; ;_; ;_;

I figured Stolas and Blitz wouldn't be back to normal or even amicable and that Blitz would need to learn about how his past actions when it comes to relationships have hurt people, but it's just so sad to watch the consequences some to fruition. ;_; Stolas holding onto his anger and hurt from what Blitz yelled at him as well as likely still blaming himself for the arrangement is justifiable since it's barely been any time since "The Full Moon," but him still not taking Blitz point of view on the matter and realizing where he messed up too didn't aid in their progress towards coming back together; Blitz playing up that he wants to just keep things sexual between him and Stolas while mocking relationships and refusing to admit that he did any wrongdoing only exacerbated the matter. :/ I didn't expect the Striker secret to come out and I don't blame Stolas for being upset about that. :/ It's too bad Blitz ruined his apology with a f*ck you and taking his lack of apologizing as a challenge rather than an actual call to change, but I did love the little mentioning of Fizz. ;)

The apology tour Blitz did was hilarious and I love that he actually was thinking about texting Stolas an apology, but of course, he didn't since it's the one he genuinely feels bad about; the surprise cameo of Martha and Mrs. Mayberry was probably the most shocking and hilarious! XD At the party, it was crazy that Blitz had been with and hurt that many people (and that's just the ones that attended O_O), and while I'm glad Stolas got out of the palace and seemed to be enjoy Verosika's company for the most part, seeing him continually drink was heartbreaking, especially because we know he's done it before. ;_;

"All 2 U" was an amazing song with Stolas just laying out all his feelings and pain with him even seeing how his past actions were wrong/contributed to Blitz not reciprocating his feelings. It was also practically unbelievable to see just how much Blitz actually took Stolas's words to heart and legit felt terrible. I love that Blitz showed concern too for Stolas being drunk (likely thinking about Verosika getting to that point and seeing the parallels) as well as him admitting his insecurity about no one being capable of loving him; Stolas then drunkenly pointing out that them throwing a party about how much they hate him every year showed they did care enough about him at one time was funny and true. XD I definitely teared up at Stolas's confession of just being wanting to be wanted and that he didn't even need the grand show he laid out to Blitz initially; the fact that Blitz did attempt to offer comfort to Stolas before he snapped back up made me go awww so hard. ;_; ;_; ;_;

Even though Verosika had such vitriol for most of the night, the fact that she uses the parties to bring those Blitz hurt some comfort that they aren't alone and can even find someone new from those he rejected is in a way comforting; it's sad though that she got dumped for just saying she loved Blitz. ;_; I'm glad Blitz admitted he has been terrible to people and that he wants to change, which definitely made it surprising that the line from the trailer was said to Verosika and not Stolas, but the impact was still great. :)

My heart broke at that incubus asking Stolas to dance because it gave me a bad feeling and sure enough, him and Stolas kissing hurt so much even though I know Blitz and Stolas aren't together anymore right now and this is part of the consequences for Blitz's actions. Him not ruining Stolas's fun hurt as well as at the same time showed he wasn't being selfish, so progress and pain. ;_; ;_; ;_; Hopefully it'll just be a one-night stand, but who knows since Stolas does seem to still want Blitz, but having a break may help both of them work on themselves. ;_; ;_; ;_; Well, if the shorts don't add anymore to the main story, here's me looking forward to "Ghostf*ckers" in October to find out how these two will handling things/change hopefully for the better next time. <3

[mcytblrconfessions]

Hi, little hater here from earlier. At no point when writing that out did I think it was misogynistic, but like. Yeah it might have been a little bit. Idk if I would care enough to yap about it if it had been just another guy being added. Maybe I am holding her to higher expectations then I would for a male creator.

I was hoping for other female creators to get in, and maybe since she was the final person announced in the 6 we expected I'm salty cause she 'took' the hypothetical slot that other creators I was hoping for for lifesteal. And that's stupid, and looking back I know that that's stupid. And that's not on Kab, that's on Lifesteal for adding 6 guys and 1 girl, and that's on me for bitching about it in a public place.

I've been watching her for a while now, and I really do want her to succeed. I think some of my hesitancy for her in Lifesteal is the sort of lack of commitment to real storybeats that we saw in the final stretch of s5, and Kab deserves to be in better stories. She's at the top of the artform of mcrp, and so far Lifesteal has not been. I want Lifesteal to do better, and maybe Kab can bring some of that to the server, but like unless they can reach that level idk if its the right place for her. I just don't want to see her on a server that refused to meet the energy level she brings to things.

Idk man. I'm not that pressed about it, just between seasons is the time to yap cause theres no streams to watch to focus on instead, by july 7th I'll be hyped to see her there. I'm sorry about that prior ask. I will be paying Kaboodle the unfair hater tax in the form of a gifted twitch sub tonight.

first off, thank you for the apology.

i dont have any real bias for lifesteal or kaboodle. i started watching lifesteal this week and im not familiar with kaboodle at all. and the reason ive stayed away from pvp focused mcrp is because it's so heavily male dominated especially lifesteal, ive been making jokes that there's a secret no girls allowed rule since ive heard abt it.

this fandom has a long history of not treating women well and when a woman is a fan-favorite she's really only allowed to be 1 of 3 things, a fighter, a girl-boss, or ur soggy poor wet little meow meow. its just not fair to creators to be essentialized and treated as support for their male peers. made to fit into men's stories instead of getting recognized and respected for their own. and smps themselves have horrible ratios, my favorite is hermitcraft but 5(4?) out of 27 is less then 20 percent! that's terrible! there's so many wonderful women ccs out there yet so little space is made for them. 2(3? idk squiddo's gender) out of 31 is the ratio for lifesteal 6. i dont need to point out how bad that is.

so to get an ask with "I just don't think that the vibes are going to be right with her there" put me really on edge. it's putting the fault on her, and it's ignoring that there was a group of lifestealers who already agreed that she was a good fit because she's on the smp! she's on the team! the difference between "the vibes arent going to be right with her there" and "they can't reach her level" is huge. but you know lifesteal better then me. if you say they cant match her energy i believe you! but if it's true, her and lifesteal dont work out because she did put her all in and they didnt that is still completely different from the thesis of your original ask

ive turned off the reblogs of the other post but i hope moving forward we can be more critical and careful with how we treat our women creators. there's already so little space for them in creator spaces let's not push them out of community spaces too.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

An affair to remember - Chapter 1

A/N: Here we have a new idea of mine, I thought I’d give it a shot. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed reading this! 

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader 

Warning: 18+ age gap.

Word count: 2.8k

An affair to remember

.

You tiptoed around the foyer to head upstairs, being as silent as you could so as to not wake anybody. 

“Ah shit!”

You cursed under your breath as your elbow bumped into the wooden railing of the stairs, smarting a little as you rubbed it. You weren’t much of a rule-breaker but every now and then, you liked to let loose, especially since your best friend Isabelle was back in town. Her travel schedule was crazy and she spent months in remote jungles photographing the wildlife there. 

Tonight you, her and your friend Sebastian met up at Blarney Cove - your favourite pub for a much needed catch-up. One drink led to four and then escalated until you lost count, you danced and sang your heart out, shared gossip and avoided Sebastian’s drunken advances all night. You wished he would just give up, you practically grew up together and he was always a friend for you, but his feelings developed into something more, your didn’t. A part of you felt bad for having rejected him so many times, especially since he was quite the catch. He was tall, handsome, a smooth-talker plus his family was filthy rich and had the world at their feet. You two got along like a house on fire and it was always a good time with him but you just wished he would stay in his limits. 

Izzy had been a witness to it all, she was your sounding board, and someone who always knew the right things to say. Somewhere her heart went out to Sebastian since he was so evidently smitten but she never coaxed you to do or act on something you were never going to feel. Only a couple of years older, she was like the sister you never had. And with her gone most of the year, this meetup was extra special.  

You stumbled your way up to your room, closing the door quietly before rushing to the bathroom where you hurled the contents of your stomach down the toilet, cursing yourself for having made terrible choices of drinks. 

Who’s idea was it to down five tequila shots back to back anyways? Oh yeah, that was you. 

Not bothering to change, you threw yourself on your plush bed, falling asleep almost instantly, thinking of the absolute field day you’d have tomorrow. 

.

Faint music reached your ears as you roused from your slumber, a dull ache in your muscles and head made itself evident almost instantly as you sat up, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Letting out a groan at the sight of your runny mascara now stuck to the back of your hands, you threw the duvet off your legs and made your way to the bathroom to clean up.

The Advil you stashed in the mirror cabinet came in handy, you really were ready to sleep off that hangover but you realized it wouldn’t be possible since your parents were hosting a party today for a bunch of people you didn’t care about. Still, as a part of the Y/L/N family, you were expected to show up. 

Texting your friends to come over for a pool party, you got dressed in a cute summer dress and made yourself look less hungover with a little bit of makeup. With one last glance in the mirror, you made your way downstairs where polite chatter and terrible lounge music grew louder and louder. 

Plastering on a smile you greeted everybody, making polite conversation while looking out for your parents who were deep in conversation with one of their suit-clad friends who had his back to you. Your father beckoned you over with a wide grin on his face upon locating you, by the looks of it, the champagne had been popped rather early today. And your Dad was already on his third mimosa, chuckling loudly at a funny remark his friend made before wrapping you in a hug. 

“There you are, my love. Meet Mr. Stark, he’s a dear friend of mine. And Anthony, meet Y/N, my slightly hungover daughter.” 

“Dad!” you nudged him, not missing the eye-roll your mother threw your way. Nothing ever got past him, but still, he was the coolest Dad you could’ve asked for. You smiled at the man in front of you, offering your hand confidently. 

“In her defense Carl, Saturdays are officially meant for nursing hangovers. Nice to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” he shook your hand with a friendly smile. As your hands touched, there was an unmistakable spark you felt, something warm, cozy and yet electric. You were sure he felt it too because he glanced down at the same time you did, releasing it with a deliberate chuckle. 

“Kids and their cliched habits.” your mother muttered, shaking her head disapprovingly. 

“Parents and their stereotypical beliefs.” you retaliated, grabbing a mimosa for yourself from one the trays the waiters were passing around. 

“Come on Jen, she’s visiting, play nice.” your father pulled her aside before you could react, not wanting the situation to escalate further. You saw them bicker in hushed whispers as they walked away, leaving you with Mr. Stark who raised his glass, waiting with a sympathetic smile. 

“Troubled childhood?” you asked, not exactly knowing how to make small talk with him.

“Oh you have no idea.” he flashed you a grin before downing the rest of his drink, raising his eyebrows in a challenge while you did the same. 

You couldn’t help but notice how very, very good-looking he was for his age. Neatly trimmed beard, sharp blue suit that looked tailormade for him, a charming smile that caused your tummy to flip. This man was definitely one of the best looking forty something year old you’d ever met. 

“So Miss Y/L/N, what do you do besides rage on a Friday night?” 

“I am a freelance photographer, mostly portraits. I work with fashion magazines and models for portfolios. And please, it’s Y/N, Mr. Stark.” 

“Interesting. And it’s Tony for you. You graduated three years ago, right? I remember Carl showing pictures some time ago.” 

You nodded, continuing to describe your line of work as he asked more questions, showing genuine interest. It made you realize he was quite easy to talk to, he had funny quips and anecdotes to share that had you in splits and you ended up chatting for a long time before your friends showed up and pulled you away.

You felt his lingering stare at the back of your head as you made your way inside, a part of you had not wanted the conversation to end so soon. 

Changing into a red bikini, you slathered waterproof sunscreen down your body and jumped in the pool with your friends while the ‘adults’ carried on with more booze. Izzy was sharing one of her stories about an encounter with a lioness in Tanzania when Sebastian dove in right next to you, making a big splash just to annoy you. 

“What are you twelve?” you grumbled, swimming away from him to let your friend continue her story. He got busy with getting cans of beer with the other guys soon, much to your relief. 

“Is he doing the whole ‘pushing you down the swing and pulling on your pigtails’ from kindergarten now?” Izzy giggled, handing you a bottle of your favourite beer. 

“I mean, ew!” you rolled your eyes, glancing over your shoulder at Sebastian who was smirking at you, giving you a wink. 

“Going out on a date with him wouldn’t do you any harm, Y/N. I’ve heard he’s great in bed and it’s about time you got your cherry popped.” your best friend suggested, yelping when you playfully kicked her so she slipped underwater. 

A couple of hours passed when Tony found himself standing near a window in the guest bedroom that overlooked the pool in the backyard, the dull buzz from the drinks that were had during the course now somewhat settled. His gaze trained on you as you lounged on your favourite flamingo floatie, legs on either side, a relaxed smile adorning your features.

There was something about you that drew him in from the first moment he laid eyes on you, you were intelligent, funny and simply gorgeous. The more you spoke, the more he realized how passionate you were about your work, the way you unconsciously played with your hair when he’d asked questions, the cute little frown as you thought about your answer, he found it all very endearing. 

What was happening to him? Was he attracted to a girl half his age? One he’d only met a few hours ago? The daughter of his business colleague…someone who was young enough to be his child…it was wrong on so many levels. 

Oblivious to his internal monologue, you were joking around with your buddies, Tony felt his pants getting tight at the sight of your wet bikini that did nothing to hide your pebbled nipples; it didn’t help his situation when you simulated riding someone by grabbing the head of the inflated flamingo and rolling your hips suggestively, before falling back in the water in a fit of laughter. 

Glancing down, he felt embarrassed to see his tented pants, running his hands over it, he slipped in the bathroom to take care of it. Lucky for him, the bathroom window also offered a view of the pool, thankful that you couldn’t see what he was up to, Tony freed himself and began steadily stroking his cock, imagining what it would feel like if it were your dainty hands instead, or those perfect lips wrapped around him, swallowing his length until you gagged. He imagined what your pussy would feel like, warm and tight for him to deflower. 

He came with a grunt after a few deliberate strokes, cleaning the mess he had made with tissues before heading back out. He wasn’t used to feeling like this. 

No. 

Nobody had ever evoked such carnal desires before. He certainly never believed he’d find himself masturbating in a bathroom like a horny teenager while watching a girl half his age enjoying herself in the pool. 

As he closed the bedroom door behind him, he collided into you. 

“Oh I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark! I–I mean Tony.” you steadied yourself against his arm, before letting out a nervous chuckle. 

“No harm done. Drink responsibly, kid.” he jested, his previous state of embarrassment washing over him once more as his eyes drank in your form. Still wet from the pool, now a white towel covered your shoulders, small droplets inching their way down the silky smooth skin between your breasts…

“Dad said you’re staying for dinner?”  

He cleared his throat and frowned at your question. 

“Didn’t know I was. But I guess it’s difficult to turn Carl down once he’s exceeded his whiskey limit so I guess I’ll see you.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

You said your goodbyes and he excused himself to go downstairs, not before seeing you head to your room which happened to be right next to where he’d just come out of.

All through dinner, you could sense simmering tension between the two of you, or maybe you were just imagining it. He didn’t engage in much of a conversation with you, in fact he avoided eye contact for the most part but on a couple of occasions, you found his eyes on you, darting away quickly whenever you caught him.

“You should see Y/N’s work, Tony. She is incredibly talented.” your father bragged, giving you a proud smile. 

“Dad, stop! I don’t think Tony I mean, Mr. Stark’s interested in tha–”

“No. I’d love to see it actually. In fact I have an interview lined up with a magazine soon, I could recommend her if she’s interested.” Tony looked up at you expectantly, completely catching you off guard. 

“Really? I–I would love to! Wow! Thank you so much.” 

Your surprised expression made him smile before your Dad thanked him for giving you the opportunity. Your mother remained quiet as the conversation unfolded, eyeing you two with quiet suspicion. 

“Anyone up for a night cap?”

When Tony politely declined your father’s offer, you took the chance to invite him to your little home studio you had set up down in the basement. Your obsession with photography began in school when you were still living here, and with your Dad’s help, this room had quickly turned into a space where you would spend most of your teenage years.

Switching the light on, you gestured to the room where you had hung several of your previous works of photography up on the walls, a working station that housed all the chemicals that you used to develop them, especially ones with your old film camera that you still used. 

The walls are adorned with pictures you had taken over the years, some black and white portraits of your friends, a few candids of your father and a few others he didn’t recognise. 

“I didn’t know they still used these.” Tony murmured as he looked around, quite impressed with your work. All of the pictures you had up there had managed to capture raw emotion in them, something spontaneous and genuine about the expressions. 

“They probably don’t, but I do. My grandfather gifted me my first camera, I still use it to this day. I can’t ever think of giving it away. I don’t know, I still prefer the old school method of developing, I find it quite charming.” you explained, following him as he stopped to admire more of your photos. 

A faint smile played on your lips as you observed Tony walk around your space, his eyes trained on pictures in front of him, each one evoking a reaction from him as if he could read the true intent hidden behind them. 

You couldn’t pinpoint if it was the lighting in the room that made him look extra handsome or just his general charisma but you grabbed your old camera quietly and decided to photograph him. 

“This is very impressive work, Y/N. Truly, you are a talented indeed, I think–”

He saw a flash that cut him mid-sentence, taking him by surprise as he realized you had taken a picture of him. 

“Sorry. I had to. It’s a good one. Here.” you showed him what you’d captured, standing a little too close for him where he could breathe in the smell of your citrusy shampoo or was it berries? He wasn’t sure. It was enticing enough to become a fast favourite of his. 

Tony didn’t need to see the picture before decided he was going to have you as his photographer for the interview he had. Inhaling your scent, he brushed your hair aside with his fingers, making you look up at him, your heart racing at the simple gesture. 

“You’re hired.” he murmured, his brown eyes glancing at your lips, allowing himself to move just a little closer. You could smell his cologne mixed with a touch of whiskey from earlier, his warm breath unsteady against your own. 

You didn’t know what came over you, but you reached up to press your lips to his very lightly, almost apprehensive about your actions. It ended too quickly as realization of the moment washed over you and you stepped away. 

“I–I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” 

You sprinted back upstairs without as much as a second glance at the man you left in your basement, feeling his lips that still lingered with your touch, with a mind that contemplated the moment that passed, rethinking if it did or it was all in his head. 

You had kissed him, and Tony’s uncertainties regarding that magnetic pull he felt towards you slowly dissolved into a desire for more. 

That night you lay awake in bed, replaying everything that happened throughout the day. All stray thoughts eventually led to the same thing.

You had kissed Tony Stark. Not an accident.

It was because you wanted to. It was an impulse you couldn’t shake off. Like you had to kiss him, your body was naturally drawn to the man who was twice your age, possibly older. A part of you was sure he had wanted you to do it, while the other part worried how inappropriate it must’ve been.

What if you’d screwed up your chance of that assignment he had offered? Surely he would have thought you had crossed a line? Oh God, what if he was married? As far as you remembered he wasn’t wearing a ring, or was he? It seemed like such a blur now. 

Covering your face with your hands, you groaned loudly before turning to your side, willing yourself to fall asleep. There was a familiar ding of a text message on your phone, when you opened it, it wasn’t from a number you recognized. But upon seeing the name of the sender, a smile made its way on your face. 

Come by Stark tower tomorrow to discuss the details of the photoshoot. And perhaps stay for a drink later? - T.S

[icypopz]

when their s/o gets injured ♡

↬ request from anon ; could I request the NXX boys with a s/o who received the injury while they were away and how would they take care of them during their healing process?

↬ notes ; artem wing (zuo ran), luke pearce (xia yan), marius von hagen (lu jinghe), vyn richter (mo yi) x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; hihi!! unfortunately i was quite busy this week so i wasn't as active 😵 also as someone who's often in hospital i rly related to this request :') but anyways i hope you enjoy!

↬ warning(s) ; reader has an unspecified injury to their foot, artem + luke carry reader (but they're crazy strong so they can def lift u up dw)

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ artem wing / zuo ran ! ]

as soon as artem heard that you were injured, he would want to drop everything he was doing and rush to be by your side at once. unfortunately, reality means that he can't just ditch his job, so he finishes his work so quickly that even celestine is surprised and he heads home at once.

upon seeing the state of your foot and the way you wince in pain as you try to hobble towards him and greet him, artem lifts you up like you weigh nothing and brings you straight to the bedroom. he surrounds you with a million pillows and if necessary, elevates your foot with a stack of cushions too. for the entire time that you're injured, artem applies for permission to work at home, and he'll be by your side day and night. whatever you need, he'll get it for you at once so you don't even have to lift a finger.

when he realises that you're feeling upset about your injury, artem would hold your palm in his, gently squeezing your hand as he listens to you talk about your worries. he understands that such a sudden injury can be earthshaking, especially when it results in such a loss of autonomy. but artem wants you to know that he'll be with you every step of the way until and after you're 100% healed.

more content utc !

[ luke pearce / xia yan ! ]

luke would be working at the antique store when you call him and tell him you've injured your foot while at work. his first emotion is complete and utter panic, he can't lose you again- but then he snaps back into focus and tells you he'll be on the way immediately. he grabs a bunch of things that might be helpful like an ice pack, bandages and cotton pads before driving to your workplace at lightning speed (he definitely runs a couple of red lights in his hurry).

once luke brings you home, he won't even hear one single word about how you want to help him, or how he shouldn't worry too much about you. he'll just carry you and lay you down on the sofa, putting on your favourite tv show to help pass the time while he goes to prepare a meal for you. he does his best to keep you as involved as possible, asking you about which spices you want, and walking to the couch just to give you a taste test. at that point you both remember that he's terrible at cooking, so you settle for ordering takeout instead LOL.

throughout the course of your recovery, luke flits about you like a worried butterfly. he doesn't want you to strain yourself, so even when you're taking your first few steps again, luke is the one who looks like he's going to pass out from nervousness. if you ever tell him that you feel like a burden because you aren't able to do anything for now, luke will reassure you with soft kisses and whispered words of comfort. as someone with a chronic illness, he understands how useless you can feel when you're bedridden, so he knows just what to say to help you feel better.

[ marius von hagen / lu jinghe ! ]

marius is actually the bane of his directors' existence. the second you call him and tell him you're injured, he dismisses everyone in the meeting room, muttering something about rescheduling it to another day. he leaves everything up to poor vincent, who's forced to deal with the wrath of the old men on the board of directors. marius drives way over the speed limit back home, and he doesn't care at all about the accumulated speed tickets he's going to have to pay - nothing is more important than getting to you asap.

once he's got you tucked into bed and is convinced that you aren't in mortal danger, marius is soo dramatic about the whole thing it's almost as if he's the one that's injured. "but i was so worried about you! you almost drove me to an early grave, is that what you want, mx lawyer?!" he clutches his heart and stumbles around the room, which at least succeeds in cheering you up a little. unfortunately, marius can't skip out on work to be with you because pax would probably fall apart in two seconds without him at the wheel, so he relies on payton to give you everything you need (it shows how much he trusts his butler that he even entrusts your safety to him).

marius would spend as much time with you as he could, always cuddled up next to you and resting his head in the crook of your neck as you thread your hands through his hair. he'll talk about everything under the sun, hoping it distracts you from your pain. when you confess that you've been feeling down because of your injury, marius comforts you the best way he can, letting you vent as much as you need to get everything off your chest. after that he tells you that he'll treat you like royalty every day if it means that you'll feel less bad about him doing it while you're injured.

[ vyn richter / mo yi ! ]

one of the perks of running your own workplace is that you can do whatever you want, and that is exactly what vyn does. when he hears you're injured, he informs his receptionist that he'll be unavailable for the next few days except for patients with extremely urgent needs that can't be handled by the nurses. with that out of the way, he calls ogier and drives home at once, not caring how many traffic lights he ignores.

anyone who saw vyn at the time might say that he was unbothered about your injury upon looking at the way he calmly handled the situation, merely asking you what happened and checking the prescribed medications. but you know better, because you notice all the small details about him that no one else would; the way his usually flawless hair is now messy, or how his eyes flicker to you every second as if you're going to disappear into thin air, or the way his hand is ever so slightly trembling as he holds onto you so tightly.

as a psychiatrist, vyn can spot the signs of how upset you are before you say anything, but he waits for you to tell him first because he doesn't want to put any pressure on you. when you open up to him, vyn isn't judgemental at all, he listens to you carefully and reminds you that your feelings are valid. after all, it must have been incredibly difficult for you to cope with such an unexpected injury, and he's so proud of you for being so strong. vyn would help you start to walk again, and the look in his eyes when you take your first few steps on your own almost makes the whole thing worth it.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/753829417407676416/i-hate-when-im-reading-a-fic-about-two-cis-male?source=share

Original OP here:

I'm sorry to the people I hurt with my words.

I'm sorry it came across that I think kink = evil = needs to be warned for when I think of tags as tagged = easy to find = can be gotten to by the audience who enjoys it.

I'm sorry "I hate it when [thing happens]" means "I have never seen [thing] before" in English. It's my third language. I had no idea it had that connotation.

I'm sorry I dislike something common in M/M. That is wrong of me.

In conclusion I am sorry and apologize. Jut because I dislike something is not an excuse for saying it. Negative thoughts should stay in my head where they cannot do harm. I know that now. I am sorry.

--

Uhhhh

Are you actually trying to grovel or are you being snide?

Either way, you did not ~do harm~ and the responses weren't saying that. People were just rolling their eyes and telling you you're probably out of luck.

I wouldn't want you to grovel regardless. I think that's a terrible cultural practice that's far too common in online spaces. Even if someone did feel hurt, that would be their emotion to handle, not a sign of wrongdoing.

--

Finding 'bussy' and the like annoying is pretty common. It's just not something that's likely to ever get tagged consistently. Some people do tag though; it's just that most of these tags are unwrangled or are incorrectly wrangled to 'X has a vagina' type tags. Here are some I found in a quick tag search:

Freeform: 'Female' terminology used for Genji's Genitals ‎(1)

Freeform: female terminology used ‎(1)

Freeform: female terminology used for genitalia ‎(1)

Freeform: Female Terminology When Referring To Genitals ‎(1)

Freeform: gendered terminology (female gendered body parts) ‎(1)

Freeform: Jason uses female terminology when talking about Dick's naughty bits ‎(1)

Freeform: Soap uses both male and female terminology ‎(1)

Freeform: tommy uses both male and female terminology to describe dream's anatomy ‎(1)

Freeform: use of female genitalia terminology ‎(1)

Freeform: Use of Female Terminology ‎(2)

Freeform: Use of Female Terminology for Raichi's sexual organs ‎(1)

Or search for 'pussy' and 'ass' in the same tag to come up with a zillion like:

Freeform: 'pussy' in reference to a cis man's ass ‎(1)

Freeform: ((they refer to his ass as pussy oop)) ‎(1)

Freeform: Calling the ass a cunt and pussy ‎(1)

I see these sorts of tags most on trans fic or A/B/O, but they're not unheard of elsewhere.

Offhand, I think this kind of tagging is about like tagging for the use of 'slut': if it's a major kink in the fic or the author thinks it will be especially upsetting in this context/about this character, they'll tag. Otherwise, they'll just assume it's standard dirty talk and doesn't need a special mention.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Even If It's a False God, We'd Still Worship This Love

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 9

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

7k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, some drunken spiciness, family teasing, very brief uses of my terrible Spanish, lots and lots of pining, angst, Roy is an idiot

A/N: There's a couple of Selena songs in this chapter. I highly recommend these covers, especially while reading!

-I Could Fall in Love

-Dreaming of You

Roy glanced up over the top of his book across the plane. She was curled up in her seat, eyes fixated on the notebook in her hands. They’d both been sleepy as they boarded the plane early that morning, not saying much to each other as they settled in and accepted water bottles from the lone flight attendant.

Initially, the ‘couple’ had sat side-by-side, with the singer dozing off quickly, her head nestled on Roy’s shoulder; he'd heard her get up well past their agreed upon bedtime to go work at her piano until some ungodly hour. While she dozed, Roy reflected on the night before, on the feeling of his breath skimming over her bare skin. Even that brief, barely there contact had been enough to send Roy reeling for the rest of the night. Had she felt his kiss (if he could even call it that)? What was she thinking? Why hadn’t she said anything?

And what the fuck was wrong with Roy?

Eventually, she stirred, offering Roy a sheepish grin when she realized she’d been using him as a pillow. Some little part of him wanted to assure her she was fine, she could sleep on him whenever she wanted, hell she could lean on him while she was awake if she wanted. He was half tempted to wrap an arm around her and tug her back to himself- and not for the benefit of the flight attendant who smiled knowingly at the pair.

Instead, Roy watched as the singer had settled herself in a window seat across the jet, scribbling furiously and hardly paying any attention to Roy. Roy, meanwhile, had hardly absorbed a word of his book. He wondered what she was writing and, more importantly, who she was writing about. Curiosity, he assured himself as his eyes darted back to the words currently swimming on the page. It was simple curiosity. Same thing that made him try to kiss her neck. He cringed internally at the memory.

“What’s up with you?”

Oh shit. Maybe his cringe wasn’t completely internal. “Fuck d’you mean?” Roy grumbled, trying to act like his usual aloof self, the self he realized he had been acting like less and less lately.

She cocked her head at him. “You’re making this weird face.” She smirked. “Dreading having to meet my folks, Kent?”

Alright. So, either she had no idea he’d tried to kiss her, or she decided to pretend it never happened. Either way, Roy decided to shift focus. “What’re you working on over there, sunshine? Something about me?” He hoped his voice was light and teasing; ever since their holiday at the lake, he was desperate to get back to that joking, playful place they’d finally gotten to.

Even though her eyes went wide and she clutched the notebook to her chest, Roy definitely caught the way the corner of her mouth ticked upwards. “No previews,” she chucked. “But when this one’s done…” Her gaze turned warm. “You’ll be the first one to hear it, Roycito.”

~

My heart skipped a beat as I glanced across the backseat at Roy. During our flight, he’d been content to read and watch movies; in between, he’d teased me about whatever I was writing and tried to sneak peeks. Now, he sat facing the window of the SUV that had picked us up at the airport, fingers drumming on his good knee. As if he could feel my gaze, he glanced over at me and cocked an eyebrow.

“All good, sunshine?”

Hmm, I thought sarcastically, let’s see. You gave me a thoughtful gift and tried to kiss my neck, didn’t say a word about it and then accused me of not liking your admittedly super sweet and gorgeous ex-girlfriend. You’re about to meet my entire family, and oh, yeah, I am desperately in love with you. Yeah, everything’s definitely all good, Kent.

Instead of blurting out the word vomit in my brain, I simply shrugged at Roy. “Just a little nervous about introducing you to my parents,” I murmured, turning to look out my own window. “But it’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Just be yourself.” Deciding we needed to ease the tension in the car, I turned back to him and raised a cool eyebrow. “Or maybe a better version of yourself,” I teased.

That did it. Roy cracked a smile and reached across the seat to shove my thigh gently. “Fuck off,” he growled, totally unaware of the way his touch sent my heart into overdrive- especially when he left his hand there for the rest of the drive.

Neither of us said another word until the car pulled up in front of the house- the one gift my parents had ever accepted from me- and I laid my hand on top of Roy’s. With a deep breath, I hummed, “Showtime.”

I clutched Roy’s hand in mine as we entered the house; despite my hammering heart, the sight had my shoulders relaxing immediately. Although this wasn’t the house I’d grown up in, it was filled with all the furniture, photographs, and nicknacks from my childhood. It was warm and familiar, like the old blanket that I still kept folded neatly at the end of my bed in England. Roy blinked as he took in the sight of my childhood photos, the ones that featured embarrassing haircuts and ice cream-covered smiles.

“Ma!” I called as I tugged him towards the kitchen. “Dad!”

In a blur of squeals and Spanglish, I was wrapped in the most familiar arms in the world and enveloped in the ever-present scent of rose perfume. My mother squeezed me tight, too excited to decide if she wanted to chatter away in English or Spanish. When she finally let me go, I saw the soft look in Roy’s eyes, the look I sometimes spotted when he thought I wasn’t looking. Offering my shyest smile, I took his hand and tugged him close.

“This is Roy,” I said simply, ignoring the gnawing voices reminding me that this would be the only time my family would meet the footballer; the next time I came home, this fake relationship would be nothing but a distant memory.

“Mucho gusto,” Roy said, his voice dripping with uncertainty.

Despite the years of being on me and my siblings about our broken Spanish and imperfect accents, my mother fawned over the four stiff little syllables Roy offered. She pulled him into a hug, chattering about how nice it was to meet him, how handsome he was, until finally, the expected question flew out of her mouth:

“Are you hungry, Roy?”

Clearly remembering my warnings, Roy simply smiled and nodded; even if he said no, she’d make him a plate anyway. So, he allowed himself to be led to the dining room table that was older than both of us and plopped down in what was usually my seat. I sat beside him and laid my hand on top of this.

“Mucho gusto?” I teased as my mother began scurrying around to load a plate of rice and chicken. “I didn’t know you knew Spanish, Kent. I guess I should’ve asked.”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards. “I… asked Rojas to teach me a couple things,” he admitted quietly. “Nothing to brag about, just a few things to impress your parents.” He winked. “Plus all the good swear words.”

My heart slammed against my chest as Roy thanked my mother for the food she set in front of him. He learned Spanish, I thought dreamily. For me.

Before I could linger too long on those words, my father ambled in, eyebrows raised and a small smile on his face. Roy was immediately on his feet, extending his hand towards my dad.

“Good to meet you, sir,” Roy said after I’d made introductions. Something told me Roy Kent didn’t often call people ‘sir’.

“Nice to finally meet you, Roy,” my father hummed. He turned to me with a hug that, while not as smothering as my mother’s, was just as warm. “Mi Estrella,” he murmured as he squeezed me tight.

When he let me go, Roy was looking at me with curiosity. “Estrella?” he repeated quietly.

I nodded. “My dad’s nickname for me,” I explained. “It means star.” I grinned at my dad. “He says that ever since I was a little girl, he knew I was going to be a star someday.”

“Guess I should start calling you starshine instead of sunshine,” Roy joked with a wink.

While Roy continued eating, my parents gushed over the details of my niece’s quinceañera, about the venue and the dress and how beyond stressed my sister was.

“I’ve got to go help your brother find a new jacket,” my dad grumbled to me with a wrinkled nose. “Leave it to my sons to leave everything until the last minute.” He eyed Roy carefully. “Want to come, Roy?”

Roy nearly choked on the last bits of rice as he turned to me. “Er…”

I shrugged. “If you want to,” I said. I laid my hand on top of his. “It might be fun.”

His shoulders relaxed as he looked down at our hands. “Sure,” he murmured. “Might be fun.”

~

Como la flor

Con tanto amor

Me diste tú, se marchitó

Me marcho hoy, yo sé perder

I closed my eyes and swayed my hips as I clutched my pastry blender in my hand, mixing the ingredients in the glass bowl on the counter. With Roy out with my father and brothers, I decided to enjoy some rare alone time in my L.A. home, in the kitchen I used all too rarely. Music blasting, cookies baking- just like when I was a teenager in my grandmother's kitchen, dreaming of the day I’d be as famous as the singers I listened to.

“Are you making cookies?”

Roy stood in the doorway, twirling a set of keys around his finger; I recognized the keychain my mother kept around her copy of my housekey so she could check on the house while I was gone, despite my insistence that I could hire someone to do it for me.

He stepped closer, eying the dough I’d been working on. “Your dad just dropped me off,” he explained. “Hope that’s alright.”

I nodded and continued mixing my dough. “Of course,” I assured him. “You have fun?”

“Believe it or not, I did.” Roy chuckled and took his phone out of his pocket. “It was your dad and your brother and a couple of your uncles, just shopping and fucking about. They’re actually pretty cool.”

“Please don’t tell them that,” I snorted. “They’d never shut up if they thought a professional athlete called them ‘cool’.”

Roy grinned and showed me some photos of him and the men in my family, screwing around the way they always did; he was smiling and laughing the way he did when we were alone. “We had a good time,” he said, sounding even more surprised than I felt. “I’m… actually looking forward to the party tomorrow.” He nodded towards the speaker my music was playing from. “This the kind of stuff they’ll be playing?”

I nodded, suddenly excited. “Oh, definitely. It’s not a party without our queen.” When I saw his puzzled expression, I went on, “This is Selena. She’s one of my heroes.”

“Like Linda Ronstadt?”

His response was so effortless and automatic I nearly flinched. Part of me couldn’t believe he remembered the offhand comment I’d made about my childhood hero; another part of me wasn’t surprised at all that Roy Kent would be so damn thoughtful.

“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding. “Like Linda Ronstadt.” I cleared my throat. “You ever dance cumbia before, Kent?”

“This is cumbia, I assume?” he asked with a smirk. When I nodded, he shook his head. “No, never danced cumbia.”

Without thinking, I held my hand out to him. “You should practice,” I teased with a quirked eyebrow. “Otherwise, you’re going to embarrass me in front of my whole family, and then I’m going to have to fake breakup with you already.”

Roy let out a playful scoff, matched by those familiar rolling eyes. “I know how to fucking dance,” he huffed, taking my hand nonetheless. “We’ve danced plenty of times.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “That was at clubs. You weren’t dancing, you stood there while I danced on you. You’re welcome for the experience, by the way,” I joked, deflecting from the thoughts I had about dancing so close to Roy. “But for this, you need to actually dance. Move your feet.” I swayed my hips dramatically. “Move your hips.”

Roy’s eyes were glued to my hips in a way that had my face burning. “Hips,” he echoed absently. He gave a little cough. “Like this?” He attempted to swing his hips the way I had but wasn’t quite smooth enough. He rolled his eyes, clearly aware of how awkward he looked. “Alright,” he conceded. “I could use some fucking practice.”

Placing both hands on his hips, I pressed myself a smidge closer to him. “Come on, Kent. You’ve got this.”

He watched my hands, my feet, my hips as we moved to the song, the one I’d been singing and dancing to my whole life. I hummed along, nodding when I saw him begin to relax and feel the rhythm. As his confidence clearly grew, he reached down and took my hands from his hips, holding them in that now familiar warm grip. From there, his eyes never left mine, carrying that intensity that I saw in my dreams every night now. Without warning, he gave me a tentative little spin, causing me to squeal in surprise.

“You’re a fast learner,” I teased as one Selena song gave way to another. “First the piano, now cumbia. Are you trying to come for my job, Kent?”

Roy offered a pleased little chuckle and whirled me in another spin, smoother now. “I must have a good teacher,” he hummed. He brought his free hand to my waist and tugged me close as we continued to dance around the kitchen. “You ever think about how, somewhere out there, some kid is dancing ’round her kitchen to your music, dreaming of being like you?”

For the first time in years, my feet stumbled off-beat. He meant it. Roy meant what he said. Even if I didn’t know him as a genuine person, I could see it in his soft eyes. It felt like a punch to the butterflies in my stomach every time I caught glimpses of that kind, authentic guy, the one I wished I could bring home to see my parents over and over and dance with in my kitchen all the time and kiss in private.

Beep! Beep!

The sound of the oven brought me back to reality, prompting me to take a step back from Roy and drop his hand. “That batch is done,” I blurted out. “I, uh, promised my sister I’d make some cookies for tomorrow, for this giant dessert table she’s doing. So, I’ll be in here all night.”

Roy nodded slowly, taking in my rushed explanation. “Right. You’re really good at baking, right? I remember reading that somewhere.” When all I did was nod, he shrugged. “Lemme go grab a book, I can hang out here while you work. Is that alright?”

My eyes fluttered as I tried not to dwell on the idea of Roy reading about me and remembering the details, the way he’d remembered Linda Ronstadt. “Sure, Roy. If you want to.”

He shrugged, the smallest smile on his lips. “I want to,” he assured me.

Roy came back quickly and settled himself at my kitchen table with one of the million books he’d brought with him. He didn’t say much, but he nodded along to the music and offered me tiny smiles whenever our eyes met. And for the rest of the night, I let myself live in a little fantasy, one where, after a night of baking as he relaxed with a book, we could head to bed together, and I could sleep in his arms instead of down the hall.

~

“Hey, Roy?”

Roy looked up from his book. Those familiar pretty eyes gazed at him from the doorway to the guest room, where he had settled in the night before. She cleared her throat and shifted her weight, something clearly on her mind. Behind her back, he spotted a guitar in her hands, an old, worn one, different from the shiny ones she kept around her London home. Probably from the early days of her career, he pondered as he appreciated the way the morning light caught the smooth surface.

Her smile was soft and timid, reminding him of the time they’d spent together on their holiday; so different from the glittering, shiny popstar he thought he’d be spending time with and, somehow, even more lovely than the glamorous celebrity the rest of the world got to see on red carpets and onstage. She was real like this, in jeans and no makeup and that tiny, infectious grin that made her eyes sparkle.

“You wanna hear that song I was writing on the plane? I finished it.”

He hoped the way he hopped off the bed was enough of a yes for her. He followed her down the stairs and through the house, out the back door and into the garden. She plopped down, gesturing for Roy to sit in the grass beside her. As she took out her phone and began tapping away, Roy couldn’t help but smile at the serious look on her face.

When she looked up and saw that smile, she wrinkled her nose playfully. “Don’t laugh,” she chided lightly. “I know I’m being dramatic, making you come outside and all, but trust me. This song needs to be played out here.”

Immediately, Roy shook his head. “No fucking laughing,” he promised.

As if he could ever laugh at her.

Nodding at Roy’s promise, she positioned her guitar on her lap, balancing her phone on her knee. Roy snapped a quick photo before stuffing his mobile back into his pocket; Keeley had texted him that morning to remind him about posting photos from this little trip. But he didn’t want to focus on Instagram or publicity right now. No, he wanted to hear this song, the one he’d be the very first person to hear.

She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath before she began strumming the guitar, creating a homey melody that nestled itself deep in Roy’s chest. She was right, he realized immediately; this song was meant for the outdoors.

Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?

I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones

These hunters with cell phones

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

I'm setting off, but not without my muse

A lump formed in Roy’s throat; her voice was a smidge lower than usual, thick with longing. It was heavy, and so beautiful. He’d heard so much of her music over the last few months, including songs that had truly touched his grouchy heart, but this was different. The song felt so heavy, filled with something he couldn’t place his finger on.

What should be over burrowed under my skin

In heart-stopping waves of hurt

I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze

Tell me what are my words worth

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

I'm setting off, but not without my muse

Her eyes alternated between closing and focusing on her phone and gazing out into the garden, lit with the late morning sun. Some part of Roy wanted to take a million photos and videos of this moment, of how beautiful and vulnerable and sunlit she was, pictures that would surely thrill their publicists, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Her song had cast a spell on him, and he was in no rush to break it.

I want auroras and sad prose

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet

'Cause I haven't moved in years

Her eyes flickered to his, something he hadn’t realized he was craving, holding his gaze steadily as she continued to sing-

And I want you right here

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

With no one around to tweet it

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

Roy couldn’t help but crack a smile at the way her mouth ticked up in the corner at the word calamitous. He remembered the night of their first sleepover, playing Scrabble and refusing to believe it was a real word. One of her favorite words, he recalled. One she was dying to put into a song, but it had to be the right song.

This song. A song he got to pretend was about him.

And somewhere, deep inside his chest, in a place he refused to explore, Roy suddenly felt a sharp pang wishing that he wasn’t pretending. Somewhere deep and buried, Roy wished he could stand up with pride and tell everyone around him that this song, this beautiful, poetic, stunning song was about him, Roy Kent. He’d never fucking shut up about it if it was.

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

I'm setting off, but not without my muse

No, not without you

No, not without you

A few strums of the guitar guided Roy back to reality, to a timid smile that was waiting for him to share his thoughts. And this time, unlike the other times, Roy was determined not to fuck this moment up. He licked his lip and shook his head with the softest sigh.

“That,” he murmured, “might be my fucking favorite song, sunshine.”

Her smile widened, glowing with pride as she took in his words. “Mine too, Kent,” she hummed. She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I was debating having the whole strings and drums thing, or if-”

“Just the guitar.” Roy was surprised by his own audacity. He shook his head. “Promise me you won’t change a fucking thing. Because that was magical.”

“Just the guitar,” she repeated, her fingers gliding over the smooth wood of the instrument. “Alright, Kent.” She winked at him. “Maybe I’ll have to give you a producer credit or something for your input,” she joked.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with just pretending to be your muse.” He smirked, pretending the idea wasn’t gnawing at him.

Instead of laughing along, she cocked her head at him, her eyes filled with racing thoughts. Roy’s heart stuttered, wondering if he’d said the wrong thing, if he’d gone and ruined what he had to admit was one of the most tranquil moments of his normally unruly life. But before she could share whatever thought was going on in that pretty little mind he admired so much, her phone vibrated, nearly falling off her knee. She broke eye contact- and that spell Roy had been under from the first note she played- and glanced down at the lit-up screen.

“My sister,” she grunted, declining the call. She sighed and looked back at Roy, the sparkle gone from her eyes now. “We should head on in and start getting ready,” she announced. Some of the happiness returned to her face as she smirked at him. “You ready for your first quinceañera?”

Roy chuckled and stood, offering her his hand to help her to her feet. “Let’s fucking do it.”

~

Originally, the idea of bringing Roy Kent to my niece’s quince had, to put it plainly, horrified me. Bringing that surly, swearing, grump of a man to such an important family event sounded like a nightmare. Even after discovering the Roy that had become my friend and- fine­- my crush, I was still nervous about introducing him to the most important people in my life, the people who had supported and encouraged me, who sacrificed to make all my dreams come true. Would they like him? I had wondered. And some small, insecure part of me had also wondered- Would he like them?

Every single one of those worries was shattered as I watched Roy interact with my family. He used the short phrases Dani had taught him on my tíos and tías, bringing surprised smiles to the faces of my uncles and aunts who rarely got to meet the men I ran around with. He greeted my brothers with firm handshakes, laughing about the previous day’s outing like they were old friends, as though he was just any old boyfriend of their younger sister and not a soccer legend dating a professional singer. He took selfies with my way too bold cousins and easily sidestepped the flirting of some of their nervier girlfriends, who would then turn around to let me know how much they loved my music and how expensive tickets for my concerts were; the laughter in Roy’s eyes made the irritating interactions worth it.

But, best of all, he treated my nieces and nephews with the same enthusiasm I had seen him have with Phoebe. He listened intently as the boys chattered on about their favorite teams and asked incessant questions about his career and the players he knew; he even managed to talk about Jamie Tartt without swearing. Even more endearing was the way he allowed my three-year-old niece to lead him by the hand to the dessert table and point out all the treats she wanted him to hand to her.

And the black ensemble he wore- which he admitted Keeley and Dani had put together for him- didn’t hurt either, with the top buttons of his shirt undone just so and the pants that fit far too perfectly to be fair.

As I pondered the sight of him taking selfies with my oldest niece and her friends, my sister sidled up, that familiar knowing smile on her face.

“I thought he was supposed to be a grouch,” she teased, nodding towards the smirking coach.

“Believe me, he is,” I chuckled, unable to suppress my grin as I thought about the swears and eyerolls I now thought of as oddly charming. “But he’s also… nice.” I didn’t know what else to say as she raised an eyebrow at me.

Finally, she just wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “That’s good,” she said. “You deserve nice, cariño. Mom and Pop, they’re so tired of seeing the rock stars and the bad boys. They want to see you happy, with someone who cares about you.” She squeezed me close, knocking her hip to mine, the way she did when we were children. “Does Roy care about you?”

It was such a loaded question. Yes, Roy and I were friends now, and he was one of the most protective and supportive people I had in my life, something I felt truly grateful for. But the kisses and affection and the sparkling looks he gave me, they were all for show, for the cameras, for the job. My heart was heavy every time I remembered that all of this, like every relationship I’d had, would end, leaving me once again with nothing but a broken heart and inspiration for sad songs that the internet would both love and mock me for.

But then those brown eyes found mine, and that smirk became a wide grin, and I felt myself melt into my sister’s embrace.

Even if it wasn’t the way I wanted, I knew I could answer her question truthfully-

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Roy really cares about me.”

~

Roy tried to remember the last time he’d had so much fun at a party. He was grateful for his kitchen dance lessons, because he found himself gravitating towards his fake girlfriend, wanting to dance close to her to the music that pulsated through every inch of his body.

She was glittering, magical, as she danced under the party lights, moving her hips even more fluidly than she had in the kitchen the night before. Her hair, her makeup, that fucking dress- everything about her was stunning. Roy marveled at how easily she glided back and forth between looking like home in her jeans and sweatshirts and looking like a goddess in dresses and heels.

Her eyes were bright as she pressed her body close to his, laughing as she sang along to the song he didn’t understand a word of. He probably could have stayed on the dance floor all night, admiring her and doing his best to keep up with her dreamy moves. Roy was something close to disappointed when she tugged his hand and pulled him over to their table, where a few of her family members sat drinking and chattering.

“I’ll be back,” she promised over the music, pressing a kiss to Roy’s cheek.

Roy must have had more shots than he’d counted, he figured. That had to be why he reflexively turned his head to steal a kiss, probably deeper than he should have in front of her brothers, he admitted. But fuck, her lips just felt so soft against his cheek; how was he supposed to resist?

When he pulled back, she blinked at him before offering a tiny smile. “Don’t miss me too much.” With a light touch to his shoulder, she was gone.

“Really?” her oldest brother scoffed, giving Roy a playful shove. “We’re right here, man. You’re going to lose all those points you’ve earned with your shitty Spanish.”

Roy let out a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry,” he apologized, clearly not meaning it.

Her brother shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We just like seeing her happy.” He nodded to the stage, where the DJ was setting up a lone microphone. “Did she tell you what song she’s doing?”

“What song?” Roy repeated incredulously.

“She always sings a little something when we have big parties,” her dad explained from Roy’s other side. “Almost always a Selena song, usually ‘Dreaming of You’. It’s always been one of her favorite songs.” He beamed with that pride only a parent could have. “She sings it beautifully.”

Roy sat up as he watched her climb the stage, that old guitar in hand. “I bet she does,” he murmured, more to himself.

The teenagers on the dance floor shrieked with excitement as she approached the microphone, her bashful expression nothing short of lovely. The birthday girl, in her big poofy dress that Roy couldn’t believe she could walk in, was pushed to the front of the crowd, beaming up at her aunt expectantly; clearly, she had been looking forward to this part of her party.

“So, someone’s been spreading a rumor that I like to sing,” the popstar joked, winking at her niece. “So I’d like to sing a little something for my beautiful niece. Happy birthday, mijita.” She blew a kiss to the birthday girl before strumming her guitar and taking a deep breath, preparing to sing, the way she had in the garden that morning.

Late at night when all the world is sleeping

I stay up and think of you

And I wish on a star

That somewhere you are thinking of me too

Her eyes found Roy’s, immediately softening and sparkling as she continued in that voice wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of.

'Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight

'Til tomorrow

I'll be holding you tight

And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be

Than here in my room

Dreaming about you and me

Wonder if you ever see me

And I wonder if you know I'm there

If you looked in my eyes

Would you see what's inside?

Would you even care?

I just wanna hold you close

But so far

All I have are dreams of you

So I wait for the day and the courage to say

How much I love you, yes I do

Eyes closed, she leaned back from the microphone and continued strumming on the guitar, the tune shifting into something different, but just as soft and wistful. Out of the corner of his eye, Roy caught flashes of confusion on her family’s faces, their expressions telling him that this wasn’t her usual performance.

When her eyes opened, she winked at her still beaming niece before looking back at Roy, her gaze aflame with something he couldn’t quite name.

I could lose my heart tonight

If you don't turn and walk away

'Cause the way I feel I might

Lose control and let you stay

'Cause I could take you in my arms

And never let go

I could fall in love with you

I could fall in love with you

Her brother leaned close to Roy and murmured, “This is new. Usually she just does ‘Dreaming of You’ and that’s it.” He nudged Roy pointedly. “Three guesses who inspired the change,” he teased.

All Roy could do was chuckle awkwardly and shrug, unable to tear his eyes from the singer as she sang, her voice thick with emotion, as though the song was made for her.

I can only wonder how

Touching you would make me feel

But if I take that chance right now

Tomorrow will you want me still?

So I should keep this to myself

And never let you know

I could fall in love with you

I could fall in love with you

And I know it's not right

And I guess I should try to do what I should do

But I could fall in love, fall in love with you

I could fall in love with you

She played the outro to massive applause, especially from the teenagers on the dance floor. She leaned down from the stage to hug the birthday girl tightly and blow kisses to the young people screaming her name. She practically floated offstage and back to Roy, who stood up so he could wrap her in a hug.

“That was beautiful,” he gushed. “Seriously, you’re fucking amazing.”

“Anything for Roy Kent,” her older sister called out in a mocking voice, sounding like some sort of inside joke Roy didn’t quite get.

The sour face she made at her sister told Roy that yes, there was a joke happening. “Just be glad I’m not charging you for the performance,” she quipped. She turned her attention back to Roy, offering him that beaming smile.

“You ever think of doing an all-acoustic album?” he blurted out without thinking. “Just… that song you played this morning, and then this…” He shook his head. “It’d be fucking amazing. Just you and your guitar. It's fucking magic.”

She studied him for a moment, looking like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Finally, and reached down and took his hand in hers. “Come on, Kent,” she chuckled. “Let’s get you a drink and you can try to become my new producer.”

~

I giggled as Roy and I stumbled through the front door after waving off my driver. After my Selena mashup, we joined my siblings and cousins in multiple rounds of shots, filling the night with laughter and joyful shouts. Now, at nearly two in the morning, the two of us staggered into my house, Roy’s arm wrapped loosely around my shoulders as he hummed the song that had been playing in the car before we got out.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he sang, his voice gruff and off-key. “The downtown lights.”

Once we managed to make it upstairs, I pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks for tonight, Kent,” I murmured. “You were the perfect boyfriend.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “For you, sunshine? Anytime.” He gave me a small squeeze before pulling away and taking a backwards step towards his room, down the hall from mine. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I echoed, watching his receding figure before ducking into my own bedroom. Once inside, I kicked off the ridiculously high heels I’d been stupid enough to dance in and removed my jewelry. Impatient to get some pajamas on, I reached for the zipper on my dress so I could take it off and leave it in some corner instead of hanging it up like a civilized popstar would.

Too bad I couldn’t reach the damn zipper.

“Fuck,” I hissed, wondering how the heck I’d managed to get dressed. Right, I reminded myself: I’d changed at my mother’s so I could get ready with my sister and niece. One of them had zipped me up.

Too tired and drunk to feel embarrassed or timid, I yanked my bedroom door open and poked my head into the hallway. The light coming out from under the guest room door told me that Roy was still up.

“Kent!” I whined.

From the other side of the door, I heard a grumbled, “Yeah?”

Pouting for an invisible audience, I shouted back, “Come help me with my zipper.” Without waiting for an answer, I turned back to my room.

I could hear the long sigh from his room, but, sure enough, his door opened. I heard his footsteps approach slowly. When I glanced over my shoulder, Roy was in the doorway, already changed into the plain t-shirt he usually wore to bed. My skin warmed at the sight of his boxers, but I waved him over, pretending to be much more casual than my racing heart felt.

His fingers were warm on my back as he found my zipper, reminding me of when he’d put the Scrabble necklace around my neck; I wondered if he could feel me shiver at his touch and the memory. Slowly, he guided the zipper down, down to where it ended just above the curve of my ass, exposing my bare back.

Roy could have left, right then and there. He could have turned and walked out, grumbled a tipsy goodnight, and returned to his room. That was what I fully expected him to do.

Instead, when I turned my head to thank him for his help, his hand hovered over my shoulder as he stared at me with wide eyes. With a visible gulp, he took the shoulder of my dress between his fingers and tugged it down deliberately, as though waiting for me to tell him to stop, to ask what he was doing, to order him back to his room. Rather than do any of those things, I let him slowly guide the dress down my shoulders until it fell in a puddle at my feet, leaving me in only my panties and bra.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, eyes on my lips. “Really fucking beautiful.”

Before I could think of a single word to say, Roy crashed his mouth into mine, hungry and reckless. I quickly turned my body to face him, to press myself against him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He groaned into the kiss and slid his hands down to my ass, just like he had that day at the lake. My desperation for him finally winning, I reached down to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor carelessly. He reattached his mouth to mine seamlessly and began urging me towards my bed.

I tugged him along until we were both horizontal, mouths and hands everywhere, soft groans filling the silent room. Something hard pressed against me deliciously, even harder than that afternoon making out in front of the paparazzi.

My heart soared when I remembered that there was no paparazzi, no audience. This was just me and Roy, in my bed, touching each other because we meant it. I pulled him closer, feeling like finally, finally, I’d done the impossible and caught lightning in a bottle. Maybe, just maybe, I had found that love I’d spent my whole life singing and dreaming about.

Roy’s hands felt like home and his lips tasted like paradise as I began to squirm beneath him, appreciative of the friction he gave me. We could go back to London together, I thought as my hands wandered down those perfect arms, arms I dreamt about each night. Every love song on my tour would be for him. Hell, I could tell him that my new album really was for him. This wouldn’t have to end, my soaring heart thought. We could stay like this, me and my muse-

“Fuck.”

The curse that hissed past the lips I was kissing froze my movements. I pulled back, eying Roy’s flushed face and feeling his ragged breath against my own.

“Something wrong?” I breathed, begging him to say no. Begging him to stay.

Of course, he didn’t say no. He didn’t stay. Instead, he climbed off me and off my bed, shaking his head sadly.

“I’m sorry.”

That was it. Two words. Two little words and he’d sent me back to that place I’d been so many times, that place of loneliness and doubt. Without looking back at me, he walked towards the door, pausing only to pick up his shirt and tug it back over his head. He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving me alone.

The sound of footsteps trudging downstairs finally had me able to move. I tiptoed to the door and opened it a crack, revealing Roy hurrying down. His footsteps made a beeline for my backdoor, which quickly opened and shut.

Part of me wanted to run after him, to demand to know what had just happened and what it meant. To beg him to come back upstairs and try to love me. Please.

But for once, I didn’t. I wanted Roy Kent to choose me, and I wasn’t going to beg. Not this time. This time, I turned off the light and crawled back into bed. The memory of his hands and his lips played over and over again in my head until, finally, I drifted to sleep.

~

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@charkachow@mrdsturd@littlepinapple@sunfairyy@shadowzena43@uhmidkmuch@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@alicedsworld@222333777@thegivenvoid @tortilla-maria1 @treblebeth @maackiimoo

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Man (gn), I have this idea for a breakup/makeup story for Buck and Tommy that I'll probably place in the Denial-Verse.

I think it's going to happen after Gerrard has taken over the 118. And for weeks, Buck's been coming home and decompressing. He's been talking about the experience of it, and Tommy's been there for him. He's been listening. He understands just how bad it can be to work under Gerrard. And it's draining for both of them to work through it, especially as it becomes a facet of their lives.

But sometimes in a relationship, one partner needs more love and care than the other for a period of time. It's a balance of giving, and you support who you love. So, Tommy can do that. He can be there for Buck.

But living with that constant low-level to high-level trauma isn't good for anyone.

Slowly but surely, they both become a little raw and stressed and prickly because dealing with that sort of stuff for a long period of time can get to people.

Then, Tommy has the worst shift. One of the worst shifts in his life. It was genuinely terrible and there were some horrible moments not just because of how bad the shift went, but because people didn't treat Tommy particularly well either.

And so he comes home to Buck's apartment, and he tries to start talking about the shift. And Buck talks about his own shift, but this hits Tommy the wrong way. Because they're always talking about how bad Buck's shifts are now. And sometimes, maybe Tommy's shift was bad and he wants to talk about it. And Tommy's feeling insecure about how it feels like this is some sort of "my shift was worse" competition with how Buck framed his response to Tommy talking about his shift from hell.

And they get into an argument.

Not because either of them feels like they don't deserve to have space to talk about what's happened to them, but from a clear misunderstanding and a tiredness from both having horrible shifts and a rawness from the last few weeks that has made them both a little less patient than they usually are. And neither of them are exactly expressing themselves in a way that makes them feel like they're actually getting anywhere with this fight, their first big fight.

And Tommy decides to go home to his apartment. To calm down. To clear his head. To try not to be mad about this because maybe he gets to have a moment to talk about bad shit, even if Buck's going through it too.

And Buck's not happy about it, he says as much, but he doesn't stop Tommy from leaving. And for Tommy's part, Tommy expressly tells Buck this isn't him leaving leaving, he's not abandoning Buck, but he needs the space, and Buck concedes to that. And respects Tommy when Tommy asks Buck to let Tommy be the one to reach out when he's ready to finish this conversation.

And Buck's confused and annoyed and frustrated and mad at himself for not understanding what went wrong with the conversation; at Tommy for putting a pause button on the argument. He starts going around asking for advice to figure out what to do because he wants to work through this, he just doesn't know how.

And Tommy becomes insular. He places back that distance he used to have before he started to open up with Evan's influence, but through prodding from his friends - from Lucy and Melton and Chimney and Eddie - Tommy concedes and starts to actually work through why he reacted like that; tries to figure out how he can talk to Buck about this.

And after another shift, Tommy meets up with Buck at the 118 to pick him up from work because Tommy always picks Buck up from work on his second shift of the week, that's just what they do. Which is tense more because of Gerrard, but they walk out together. Tommy drives them.

And the drive is a little aimless. And the silence they start with - it isn't uncomfortable, it's actually very comfortable. There's a love there that hasn't gone away; hasn't disappeared because of one giant fight. They love each other's company.

And they start to actually talk things through. With some time and clearer heads and advice from friends, they explain how they feel to one another. How Buck hadn't meant to bring up what happened to him that day to minimize what happened to Tommy. How Tommy didn't mean to lash out, but he's always had problems opening up about how he's felt, about putting his own negative feelings out there for someone to judge. And he needed the support too. Which, of course he knows Evan will give him, but he was in such a bad headspace after that shift.

They make up. Stronger than before. Aimlessly driving around together for a while before going back home to Buck's loft.

[jo-dracona]

.

[elftwink]

one of the most infuriating things that happens in discussions about trans people is like, when a transphobe talks about how its just SOOOO easy to access gender affirming care, it's so easy to get on hrt or get referred for surgery etc... some of you dense motherfuckers respond to this by saying "no!!! it's not easy!!!! its so hard!!!" & listen. i KNOW that it IS HARD for many of us. and in many places it's getting harder. but tell me this: isn't the goal, eventually, to make it easy? not just easier than right now, but genuinely easy for a transgender person to access the care they need on whatever timeline they want, no matter how fast or slow? so if you spend all your time right now combating transphobia by insisting that transition is difficult and taxing and traumatizing, what are you going to do if and when it's none of those things? if there is no endless suffering and million hoops?

when someone says "it's too easy to transition" in order to justify their own transphobia, and you say "no it's not", you're also saying "if it were, your feelings would be justified". which is already kind of a terrible implication without taking into consideration that what most of these people mean by "too easy" is "possible". they mean that you can transition and they don't want you to. point blank. when you say it's difficult, they think "good. it should be harder". it will never be difficult enough to not be easy to them.

i am literally so sick & tired of all of us throwing each other under the bus in order to advocate for a future that is fucking miserable and awful. when someone tells you their nightmare scenario is transgender people being happy, you should not be responding to that by reassuring them that actually, transgender people are miserable and always have been and always will. when someone complains about how easy transition is you should say "good". we are never getting out of this fucking crab bucket if we're not only pulling each other down but also telling other people that pushing us back in would be fine if we were a little closer to the top.

[hella1975]

your sokka is SO sokka and i say this as someone who holds him so dear ur writing of him is amazing. tbh im sooo fussy with his portrayal but its pretty nailed. like so many fics (esp zukka and zuko centric and ESPECIALLY ones where hakoda like adopts zuko) he's constantly pushed to the side in favour of zukos issues and zukos problems when in reality sokka is very hurt himself and has suffered a lot. man i GET taob sokka i really do bc people seem to think he was a lil mean but nobody seems to realise when you're in sokkas position it would've read like everyone was against you. all the swt men, including his dad who snapped at him, and even katara and aang and suki tell him to give zuko a chance and the fact that they were trusting someone who had hurt all of them so much- because yes WE know zuko wouldn't have killed them, but the gaang didn't. not when they were being chased and terrorised, and when sokka had his trust betrayed in the prison, he had absolutely every right to hate zuko, esp when it felt like everyone who he thought would understand his feelings, including his own dad who had been hiding his relationship with zuko from him, seems against him. his conversation with hakoda was probably my favourite scene in taob just bc he was allowed to feel like that without being treated by the narrative as someone just being mean to poor little zuko. he gets to be a sourpuss and angry and jealous at zuko for feeling like hed been replaced by his own dad. all of the water tribe men get this treatment like they're not written as bad people for being wary or disliking zuko initially (even chena despite being enemy no.1 at the start). his convo with hakoda was so important bc it stressed the detail that yes zuko has suffered and deserves to be cared for but SOKKA is his son, his actual child who is so hard on himself for things out of his control and who has hurt so much and deserves just as much as zuko does. sokka is just a baby my boy. he's not the main character but he's just as complex and intricate as zuko, not just in taob but also for the times we have seen him in tams there's been keen detail to his emotion and how he's feeling pointed out

me rn

[soft-serve-soymilk]

More random head children musings (aside from the really sad one because that deserves better than a throwaway post):

Honestly I think it’s very fortunate that Dism’s team isn’t *entirely* comprised of lucid dreamers.

[edsheerankinnie]

Being a swiftie rn is so hard like. Maybe you are Wretched. Maybe you are Fearsome. Maybe you are Wrong.

@taylorswift SPEAK NOW🍉🇵🇸