#AND YOU DECIDE TO IMPLEMENT IT IMMEDIATELY AFTER I STOPPED PLAYING

[uluthrek]

au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.

tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.

around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.

arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.

theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.

ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.

jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.

cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.

robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.

sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.

robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.

tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.

at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.

with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.

at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.

rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.

[dreamingoftaehyun]

jealousy, jealousy | l.sm

pair: seokmin x afab! reader x joshua (kind of)

summary: seokmin's jealousy has no limit even when you're just speaking to his friends at dinner.

warnings: not proofread! lmk if there's any mistakes. i use they/them pronouns for reader but they have female anatomy and i use the word wife once, established relationship, pwp, possessiveness, dk is kind of a dick at the start, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, fingering, he calls joshua mid sex, pussy slapping, face slapping, a tiny bit choking, degradation, pet names like baby, whore, slut.

wc: 2.3k

a/n: i just find possessive dk insanely hot, that is all. also i was scared because i didn’t know how to implement joshua into this but i hope i did well

your boyfriend was acting strange ever since you sat down.

first, he got snappy at mingyu for even glancing at your direction and then he started to death stare joshua after the poor guy just talked to you.

seokmin was in a good mood when you got there, but the sudden switch up as soon as the other members arrived was jarring. seungcheol seemed to catch onto his sour mood and gave you an sympathetic smile.

you decided to ignore him. if he wanted to act childishly, fine, but you wouldn't let it ruin your night. you were having a nice conversation with joshua about your favourite studio ghibli movies when the wine was delivered.

seokmin drinking was perhaps the worst thing to happen that night. once he was drunk, he would not stop making snarky comments about "how much better joshua is" to you.

"seriously, seokmin? grow up." you groan, shaking your head as you turned away from your boyfriend. the other boys seemed to understand what was going on and tried to ignore seokmin's antics too.

"do you wanna fuck joshua that badly you'll ignore me to talk to him?" he whispered in your ear, voice low and it sounded like was angry.

"what?! no!" you whisper shouted, appalled by the accusation. why the fuck would you want another man when you have seokmin?

"so why won't you give me attention?" seokmin whined, placing his hand on your thigh.

"seokmin," you sighed and pursed your lips. "you're annoying me. go away."

he ignored your request, instead sneaking his hand up your dress making you gasp. "what the fuck are you doing?!"

"seems this is the only way to get your attention," he whispered as he pressed a few kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone, you melted into his touch and almost shut your eyes until you realised where you were right now and how drunk your boyfriend was.

"stop." you breathed and seokmin retracted his hand from your dress immediately. "sober up first."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

sober up he did, seokmin was finally back to his normal self. well, that's what you thought until you got home and your back was pinned against the front door. "were you doing it on purpose?"

"doing what?" you asked and seokmin rolled his eyes. "i know you were trying to make me jealous, or maybe you really do want to fuck shua."

okay, he had to of hit his head or something because he was not making sense. "baby, i'm confused.. why would i try to make you jealous?"

he scoffed and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, and shoved his thigh in between your legs. "don't play dumb. you didn't talk to me all night and only paid attention to the others. you made me look like a fool."

his deep voice made you feel hot, and you had to stop yourself from grinding on the leg he has between yours. "i-i really didn't mean to!" you whined.

seokmin smirked when he realised what he was doing turned you on. "what, do i not fuck you good enough you need to crawl to joshua to help you feel good?"

he grabbed your hips and started grinding you on his thigh. "no! i only want you," you insisted with a moan escaping your lips.

"hm, i don't believe you." he replied. suddenly, he picked you up by your waist and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his. he took you to your bedroom and threw you onto the sheets.

your whole body felt hot. you never expected this side of him would make you so needy, but now you're glad this side of him is showing for the first time. he unbuttons his black dress shirt he wore to the dinner and slid it off his shoulders.

you couldn't help but drool. he was so muscular and you wanted him to manhandle you so bad. "undress too." he ordered.

you scrambled to get your own dress off, and then you were both only in your underwear. your boyfriend practically pounced on you, his lips immediately attacking your neck.

he painted your neck and collarbone with hickeys, marking you to non-verbally tell you that you were his. all you could do was simper under his touch.

"i have an idea," he looks up at you and his mouth quirks. "why don't i give shua a call?"

your eyes widen and your jaw opens in shock. "what?! are you insane?"

he chuckles and grabs his phone off the nightstand. you pretended like he was crazy for this, but you couldn't help but be a little intrigued.

when he dialed the number you hoped he wouldn't pick up, but to your dismay he did. a faint "hello?" comes from the phone.

seokmin puts it on speaker so the both of you could hear. "hi, joshua.. hope i'm not disturbing you."

"oh, it's no worries. i was just watching youtube." joshua replies. seokmin started tweaking your nipples, your bra long gone by now. you tried your best to hold in your noises. "what's up?"

there's a long silence when seokmin's hands sneak down dangerously close to your core. "um, dokyeom?"

"sorry, my baby's so needy right now." your boyfriend's words made your jaw drop a second time. you pinched his arm and he gave you a playful grin. joshua had no idea what he meant until he heard you moan over the line.

seokmin's hand was now past your panties, rubbing at your clit. the poor guy stayed silent on the other line, you felt so bad for him. it was evident seokmin did not as his ministrations on your clit got faster.

"ah! minnie, what about shua-" you whimper and your hands grab at his wrists. "what about him? i'm sure he'll love listening to you moan for me. won't you, joshua?"

"w-what?" he stuttered and seokmin chuckled. you stopped caring about joshua as soon as his fingers intruded your hole, making your back arch and your hand grip his forearm tightly.

"why are you calling me while you're fucking your partner, dude?" joshua asked, sounding a little annoyed.

"because i need you to know they’re mine." he sneered. you couldn't focus when seokmin's fingers started pumping inside you, thumb rubbing your clit expertly. "minnie, more!"

seokmin chuckled at your eagerness. you were lying if joshua being able to hear you didn't turn you on more. "they're so wet for me, shua. can you hear it?"

he puts the phone near your heat so joshua could hear the obscene squelching sounds when he'd pump his fingers in and out of you.

you heard him groan over the speaker and your nails dug into seokmin's forearm. "you like joshua being able to hear you? what a slut."

your boyfriend grabbed your face with his free hand and squished your cheeks between his fingers, kissing you roughly before muttering, "my slut."

"oh, fuck! seokmin, i'm so close-" you whimpers get cut short when he retreats his hand from you. "you don't deserve to cum until i have tonight."

you knew whining wouldn't get you anywhere so you stayed quiet. you watched seokmin pull his boxers down and let his hard cock free. he grabbed it and directed the tip to your mouth with a sly smirk.

"can i fuck your face, sweetheart?" he asked. when you nodded his cock pushed past your lips and your tongue immediately licked up his shaft, prodding at the veins that decorated it.

"ah, fuck. your mouth feels so good..." he groans and turns his head to the phone he almost forgot about. "you're awfully quiet, joshua. what are you doing?"

you heard the man clear his throat before speaking, but getting cut off with a quiet moan of his own. "shit, are you getting off to this?"

"n-no," he lies. then he moans a little louder when he realises seokmin's already started thrusting into your mouth with the gags that escape your throat.

seokmin grabbed your hair with his fist and pulled tightly, bucking into your mouth rougher, a wide grin on his face. "baby, shua has a crush on you."

joshua whimpers out a weak "no i don't". tears started to well up in your eyes as seokmin's dick hits the back of your throat repeatedly, and you were sure you'd wake up with a sore throat in the morning. when your hands snaked up your boyfriends thighs and you started playing with his balls, that's when his thrusts got sloppier.

"oh my god, i'm gonna cum!" seokmin whines out when you moan on his cock, the vibrations sending him into haywire. joshua didn't sound too far behind with his own whimpers coming from the phone.

seokmin's thrusting slowed until he got to a halt, and you felt his load spill down your throat. "fuck, so good baby. my good little whore."

he pulled out of your mouth and instructed you to swallow, his fingers poked into your neck so he could feel when you did and he gave you a mischievous smirk.

"josh, do you think i should reward them?" seokmin speaks up and you almost forgot about his friend on the other line. "mfph, yes.."

your boyfriend looks at you with half-lidded eyes and suddenly flips you over, a squeak coming from your mouth as your face hit the mattress.

he pulled your underwear down, almost ripping them. when you tried to turn around, his hands dug into your hips to keep you in place.

"nuh uh, you gotta do what i tell you." he whispers in your ear, then he started licking your earlobe and down, until he reached the back of your neck.

he kissed and marked you all over your collarbone, then moved down your back until he reached the back of your thighs. the feeling of his fleeting kisses made you melt into the matress, but you still needed more.

"babyy.. hurry up," you whined. "need you inside me."

your boyfriend chuckled darkly and slapped your pussy making you yelp. "shit dokyeom, take it easy," joshua breathes. his voice startled you for the third time.

"joshua.. minnie won't fuck me!" you complained into the phone with a smirk. you could hear the boy stutter over the line. "don't talk to him. i'm right here." seokmin then turned you over to face him.

"that's unfair! i wanna talk to him!" being a brat was one of the easiest ways to rile your boyfriend up.

what you didn't expect was the sharp sting on your cheek. he just slapped you, hard. "what the fuck?!" you yelped, his hand coming up to soothe the sting. you would be lying if it didn't turn you on, though.

you could hear joshua whimpering, it was quiet but the both of you caught it. "are you close, joshie?" you asked.

you took his no answer as a yes and giggled. "c'mon, don't you wanna cum inside me minnie?"

seokmin grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, his dick finally lining up with your hole. when he finally pushed in, your eyes instantly fluttered shut.

"oh fuck," he groaned when he finally bottomed out. "feels so good, baby."

his thrusts started slow but he picked up the pace pretty quickly, his hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled your legs up so that your knees were up touching your chest.

the scent of sweat and sex and the sound of skin slapping, panting plus joshua's muffled moans over the phone filled the room. it was all so hot.

seokmin's thrusts got rougher, his head buried in the crook of your neck so that you could hear his whimpers and groans clearly, also so he could mark you.

when he finally pulled away from you, his hand came up to your neck instead, lightly choking you, making you clench on his cock. "mhm, pussy feels so good.. made for me."

another slap on your clit made you jolt, but it made the knot in your abdomen tighten ever so close to your breaking point. you couldn't speak coherent sentences at this point, only screaming seokmin's name like a mantra.

"seokmin! oh fuck, cum inside me please!" you finally sob, tears threatening to spill from how rough he was fucking you. "yeah, want me to fill you up? be mine forever, become my wife?"

you just nodded and pleaded with a few dozen "yes's", the knot about to snap. "hah, i'm cumming!" you heard joshua whimper over the phone and then it happened.

your legs started shaking, the orgasm was so hard it felt like your entire body was vibrating. seokmin's voice was drowned out by the utter pleasure you felt, everything just felt so hot.

then, you felt his cock twitch and your pussy clenched more to milk him dry, his hot cum painting your walls. seokmin collapsed on top of you and held you in his arms, riding out his own orgasm.

"i love you.." he said breathlessly.

"i love you too, baby." you muttered while stroking his hair, waiting for him to come down from ecstasy.

when seokmin finally pulled out, you felt his cum drip down your thighs. "see, joshua? she's mine-" he starts but then the man on the other line hangs up and you have to stifle a giggle.

"you probably embarrassed him, min!" you scold, lightly slapping him on the forearm. "yeah, whatever."

"apologize to him, baby."

seokmin rolled his eyes with a pout. "no, he doesn't deserve one after that dinner."

"seokmin. you literally caused a problem out of something that wasn't a problem in the first place. apologize!"

"fine, in the morning." your boyfriend cuddled up beside you and you couldn't help but give in.

[slavetotheshine]

The Shiny Collection

Back in the days of Tumblr yore, there used to be a great collector. The various blogs featured rubber nuns, latex nurses, shiny maids, glossy bimbos and loads more. After they disappeared, I reached out to the collector via a common friend and as they had no intent on starting fresh I decided to pick up the mantle.

I have started light with a few (heh..) blogs that seemed to be natural categories to me. Here goes!

(The collection is in the "Keep Reading" section)

Slave To The Shine

I'm addicted to the gloss of latex. It has enthralled me for more than half my life, and I can't help myself. This is my core collection, all the great shots that don't immediately fall into one of my other categories.

BossyShine

Shiny ladies who are used to being in charge! For those that want to serve or simply seek a second in command, proper attire is shown!

CelebrityShine

Some people want to be shiny and famous. If the shiny bit is properly done, I'll swoop in like a magpie and gather it!

CorsetShine

Just a little nip at the waist… Here you'll find everything from small waist cinchers to heavy posture collars.

CostumeShine

Shiny Cosplay and Uniforms, be it movies, anime, video games, fairytales or simple tropes such as stewardess, cheerleader or military pinups.

CurvyShine

A collection of images featuring more generous curves than the standard fashion fare.

DomesticShine

Maids, matrons, domestic goddesses, house slaves, household objects and furniture, all in one great big bundle of homemaking fun!

EbonyShine

When hurtling through the rubberclad parts of Tumblrscape, an overwhelming majority of the models are white. I find that unfair, everyone looks good in the stuff! I decided to gather the wonderful shots of women of color I stumble upon, so more people can be part of the fun!

FeminineShine

Girly girls, anything pink, those that go for the bimbo aesthetic or those that simply look remarkably feminine in the moment. An homage to the mightly but lost glossybimbos, though with a bit more range.

HeavyDutyShine

Shiny stuff with a bit more heft, coverage, layers or severity. This is stuff for the serious players!

Medicalshine

Shiny nurses, rubber doctors and other fetish takes on the medical profession. Enjoy this collection of those that wish you well, as well as those who might want to drag it out just a little bit more!

MilfyShine

No need to go full frump just because TikTok wasn't a thing when you were in your teens!

PetPlayShine

While ponygirls are a clear favourite of mine, you'll also find puppies, kittens and the odd mermaid. If it's shiny pet-play and I like it, this is where I'll stash it.

PublicShine

Stop hiding the good stuff behind closed doors, get out and about like these ladies!

RestrainedShine

From heavy rubber bondage to latex-clad lovelies who are just a little bit tied up at the moment…

SmokyShine

Rubber and smoke, not nicotine gum! This combines two of my kinks into one superkink, but finding good new content is a bit of a struggle. Please let me know when you spot something!

StylishShine

This is where the lines between fetish and fashion get blurred, but when it's mostly on the fashion side of things I try to use this collection as the destination.

UnholyShine

A rubber nun's habit, a shiny hijab, occult outfits, any shiny stuff with spiritual connotations really.

VehicleShine

Girls and cars, it's such a classic combination. I've expanded the selection to anything that moves, but the clothing has to be as glossy as the paint!

SteelyShine

The only collection not focused on latex, these images are all Metal AF! Here you'll find anything steel or iron, from heavy bondage implements to collars that are more a fashion statement than fetish.

[radiant-fanon-maker]

AU idea: Lee & Ler. (This is a bit long, just a quick heads up. Sorry about this ^^")

Tickling was one of the many things Workers just couldn't experience. It wasn't like they didn't have mechanical nervous systems, but their tough outer layers made it hard for it to bring the desired effects. So they all just give up on trying to implement this human thing into their lives.

Well, almost everyone. Uzi for some reason could experience the joys that tickling could bring to one. (It's the Zombie Drone coding's fault.) Her mother would often tickle her while playing. But after her passing, Uzi hasn't had the chance to receive them anymore. Her dad never really understood it, so he never tried it.

Over the following years Uzi had been roughly tickle-starved. The only time she could experience the comforting tingly feeling even slightly was when she ran a toothbrush through her stomach, or a feather on her feet. Of course, they weren't very effective (curse of not being able to tickle yourself) but they were at least something. But still, they weren't the real thing, and no matter what she tried she could never fully satisfy her lee moods.

Thad on the other hand was dealing with a different issue. He wasn't ticklish, being a worker and all, but rather he wanted to tickle someone. Back when he was a little droneling, during one of the cartoon shows he and Lizzie were watching, a tickle scene came one. Maybe it was the character's big smile or the sound of their laughter but Thad was mesmerised. He wanted to experience it. So he tried.

But no matter what he used or who he tickled it never worked. The drones around him either didn't react at all or got annoyed with him. After a while he stopped trying. He was starting to get to the age where the others around him found the mere idea of tickle to be an immediate unpopular marker. So he showed these thoughts under his consciousness. But deep down his ler moods were piling up. He wanted to tickle someone, ANYONE. He felt like he'd burst at any moment.

One day, Thad accidentally walked in on Uzi trying to soothe her lee mood. At first she tried to defend herself. That this isn't what it looks like but ultimately she confessed about how much she enjoys being tickled. She asked him not to tell anyone, she didn't want to become the school's laughingstock. He told her he won't tell anyone, under one condition. She let's him tickle her.

And this was the start of their routine. At least once a week they meet up somewhere exclusive and Thad tickles Uzi like there's no tomorrow. They also like to test different tickle styles out. Tickle songs? Yes. Spidering fingers? Yes. Raspberries? Yes. Different kinds of tools? Yes. Tickle bites? You bet yes!

Not sure what you could do with this idea of mine but I'll leave the rest up to you. :3 (This idea came to me while sitting in church. Don't ask why.)

gahhhhhhh I wanna draw so much for this but I wasn't sure what but I decided on my favorite kinds of tickle method

Uzi: HAHAHA!!! TH-THAD!!!

Thad: pttttt

[maxlarens]

More frat au, so we never touched on how reader met the boys, so my story is that she met Logan in a French class because she wants to study abroad in France and Logan is taking it to fill his language credit, but he's struggling with it so he asks her, the perfect student, to tutor him, and of course she says yes when an attractive guys asks for her to tutor him in "La Langue de l'Amour". So she helps him study and they grow closer together and eventually he's like "Hey so there's a party at my frat, I was wondering if you wanted to come?" and of course she says yes because her attraction to him clouds the rational thoughts in her head telling her that a frat party sounds like hell, but she goes anyways. So she arrives at the frat house and Logan gets her some fruity drink like the gentleman that he is, but eventually he sees someone else who he wants to talk to (Alex mayhaps?) and asks if she's okay to be left alone, and she says yes because she doesn't want to be a burden, so he leaves, but the loud music and so there's so many people in a small space, so she gets up from her spot on the couch and tries to find a bathroom to lock herself into while her tears start falling, ruining her mascara, but instead of finding a bathroom, she ends up barging into Oscar's (and Lando's room but he's making out with some chick in the backyard) room where she sees Oscar on his laptop with his headphones on, doing homework. She immediately tries to close the door back up before Oscar sees her, but unfortunately he looks up at her making direct eye contact which causes her to stop like a deer in headlights. It takes a minute for him to process that there's a girl with running mascara in his room, but once he does, he immediately sets his laptop aside and takes off his headphones and gently ask "Are you okay?" "Yeah." You sniffle. "I'm fine." Oscar gets off his bed, grabbing a few tissues before walking over to you to usher you onto his bed and closing the door. "Do you want to talk about it?" Oscar asks as he sits down next to you, offering you a tissue. "It's just that I'm here with a guy that I like but he saw a friend that he doesn't see very often so he left me and the noise and all the people in such a small space got to me and I was trying to find a bathroom but then I barged into your room. I'm so sorry," you say as you blow your nose into one of the tissues. "Hey," Oscar starts. "Don't be sorry; you did nothing wrong. Honestly the guy sounds like a real jerk, inviting you to a party just to leave you alone." "No, Logan's very sweet, he asked me if it was okay if he talked to his friend for a bit. I just didn't want to burden him since this was our first time hanging out outside of school." Before Oscar can reply, the door burst open again. "Hey Osc, I need your help..." Logan didn't finish his sentence, seeing you sitting on Oscar's bed, Oscar's hand on your knee. Before he can question what you're doing in Oscar's room, he notices your running mascara. "Hey is everything okay?" he asks. "I think she just got overwhelmed by the loud music and was trying to find somewhere quieter to hang out for a bit to calm down and she accidentally found my room instead," Oscar answers, to which you nod, using the tissue to wipe off your mascara. "I think I just want to go to bed," you say. "Why don't you stay the night in Logan's room. I think Lando's last hookup left some makeup wipes in the bathroom. I'll go grab those while Logan gets you some of his clothes to sleep in, sound good?" You nod your head before you start taking your heels off.

After this you decided to implement a frat party routine where instead of partying, you would sit in Logan's room and play video games while drinking. It started off as just you and Logan but morphed to include Oscar once he became part of the relationship. Safe to say the rest of your relationship was far less turbulent than the start.

AHH!!! omg this made me emo about loscar. but YEAH wtf so cute!!!!🥹🥹 and even if she does want to spend some time at the parties she can just head up to one of their rooms when she's finished and they'll find her when they notice she's missing/when they're ready😖😖

[argonianprince]

I've officially given up on trying to play Nancy Drew: Mystery of the Seven Keys.

I really wanted to like it, so badly. I tried not to have too many expectations. I bought it because I saw a lot of people saying it wasn't like the old ND games, but it was still "a step in the right direction."

Honestly it feels more like a cop-out, and a bland stab at keeping the company open. If it hadn't been an ND game I would have put it down after 20 minutes. I made it a couple hours in.

There were too many little problems and quality issues to list. The main issues though:

Nancy's new VA didn't do a good job. She sounds so bored and like she doesn't know why she bothered to come into the studio to record lines. She did a bad job in Midnight in Salem as well, and a bunch of fans were like, oh just give her time to adjust, she did better in another game, don't be discouraging, show her support. Well.. I think it's insulting that she brought such low energy and no enthusiasm or real skill to the second game in a row. She's obviously not a good fit for this role. Find someone who cares about bringing this beloved character to life and doing her justice.

The music is so generic and unfeeling. The music in older games was so beautiful, distinct, memorable, it gives me happy chemicals immediately when I hear the music from specific favorite games. Nothing like that to be found in KEY.

The hint system is BORING AS FUCK and doesn't even provide hints for half the confusing, counter-intuitive nonsense in this game. The recurring side characters insisting on being reached only by text and not being able to phone friends was cheap and boring and disappointing.

I hit a glitch 40 minutes into playing, which is SO unacceptable for a 30+ dollar game. If not for being able to switch movement types and then switch back, I would have had to start all over.

HerInteractive has apparently decided that there needed to be lots of non-interacteble NPCs all around. Which is a huge departure, but fine. Except that said NPCs were all obvious repeats of the same ~7 character models. So the opening plaza and cafe would have like 4 versions of the same very distinct human standing around. It was distracting and felt insulting to my observation skills.

The non-Nancy VAs did a good job, excluding the really bad fake accents, but the dialogue was so weird and boring and stilted that the talent couldn't make up for it.

The game didn't tell me directly that you could press the shift key to sprint, I learned that from a random loading screen, so I spent most of the time at a crawl.

I had to stop using the "classic" movement mode. It was poorly implemented and didn't allow me to actually look closely at everything I needed to. Then the new free-move mode is the exact kind that gives me motion sickness, which limited my play sessions drastically.

There are so many things that made the game seem poorly thought out, like they didn't bother finding professional writers to plot out events and conversations. It also seems like they didn't find outside beta testers, because again, the number of major and minor problems was just through the roof and it was not fun to play for me. Most of the separate components that make up the game feel almost amateurish.

This is one for the minor complaint category but it bothers me so much. Just.. The obvious lack of effort. A ton of the self space in this cafe/bookstore in the starting location was just EMPTY. Like a quarter of a shelves. Nothing. Not even small cute decorations to compensate for the absence of books.

I was happy to support the company when we got the game, but after experiencing it, I'm sorry to have wasted the money on a game company that doesn't deserve it.

As my girlfriend just pointed out: HerInteractive fired the voice actors (including Nancy's iconic VA), fired the writers, fired the artists and programmers that made the old games incredible and memorable and special. Is it REALLY HerInteractive as we knew it anymore? No.

I'm sad that fans are cutting this game so much slack. If it weren't a Nancy Drew property, there would be no question that it's a mid game at best, and definitely not worth 32$USD. I think it's okay not to support this company anymore. As long as the old (good) games are available to play, maybe it's time to admit that someone else would be a better fit for creating Nancy Drew PC mysteries. The HerInteractive we knew and loved is not around anymore. I'm going to try to come to terms with that, and mourn the loss.

This shell of a developer that still exists doesn't deserve our money, or our collective benefit of the doubt. They are trying to sell us sub par products, while wearing the mask of a game series that was, and still is, important and foundational and cherished by so many fans.

I'm really glad that the old games still exist so we can have an amazing time re-playing them, until someone who actually cares creates another top-tier point and click mystery series

[peppermintquartz]

Twisted Metal (TV series) AU, pro wrestler kayfabe personas

Violence, fluff, Joestafa (except it's also Sweet Tooth)

Look, it's me. If there's Joe, imma write Joestafa one way or another.

Title to be decided. Tentatively "Under the Mask".

*

Mustafa stops only when he hears the change in sound from the crunch of bone to the sticky-wet slap of flesh. Then he steps back, every joint and muscle aching, and sees what he's done to Agent McFuckface.

With a grunt he slams the hammer in his hand into the dead agent's skull and leaves it there.

As he's catching his breath and trying to work out where to go next, he hears applause behind him. Whirling around, Mustafa sees Death coming towards him.

Well, a huge machete-wielding man in a chest harness and white pants with red dots who's wearing a clown mask that has orange hair sticking out the sides is close to being the embodiment of Death as makes no difference, really.

"That was intense! You looked like you really worked through your issues," the clown says.

Mustafa shrugs. "Some of them."

The clown approaches. If Mustafa were less drained of emotion after beating in the face of the last of his pursuers, he'd be afraid. As it is, he's thinking if the clown will chop his head off immediately or just remove his limbs one by one. Both would suck, except one would suck less.

"Look, man, if you're gonna kill me, I'd appreciate a quick death," Mustafa says.

Despite the mask, the clown looks offended. "Kill you? Why would I do that?"

Mustafa raises an eyebrow and points at the blood-stained machete in the other man's hand.

"Oh, this? Don't worry about it. I am not killing someone who's just put on a passionate and focused performance. It was stunning!" He tilts his head and, through the eyeholes, he winks. "Get it? Stunning?"

Mustafa glances at Agent McShithead. He chuckles. "Yeah. Took his breath right away."

The clown laughs uproariously. "I like you! You're funny!" Suddenly the machete swings through the air, right towards Mustafa's neck.

It stops before the blade breaks skin.

Mustafa glances down, then his gaze follows the weapon all the way along to the massive arm and trails up to the clown's masked face. "That was fucking impressive, man. That control."

"You didn't even flinch." The clown sounds different now, almost serious. "Most people would've flinched. Or screamed. I've heard so much screaming."

"You said you wouldn't kill someone who put on a stunning performance. And you said you like me."

"I could've been lying."

"A guy like you? Nah. You have no need to lie." Mustafa spits on the dead agent. "Fuckers like him and his boss lie."

The clown lowers the machete and tilts his head quizzically. "You sound like you got a story."

"You wanna hear it? I don't wanna bore ya."

"Hmmm. I'm trying to come up with a new play. My previous one was a flop." The clown stares at Mustafa. "Maybe I can use some inspiration..."

Mustafa waits. He has nothing else to do, anyway. He can't go back east to Topeka, take out a sharp implement, and ram it through Agent Stone's head the way he wants to. He remembers the way his mom had looked at where he was hiding just before-

"Alrighty then! How about you come with me to my place, I'll treat you to some white tiger steaks, and you can share all about how you got to the point of beating a man's brains in over a dinner." The clown holds up both hands. "I'm not trying to get in your pants, just so we're clear. I am a gentleman."

"Pity," Mustafa quips, offering a small smile. "Food sounds good. Lead the way."

The clown's voice seems to hold a smile. "By the way, I'm Sweet Tooth."

"Mustafa."

"Like the Lion King?"

"No, that's Mufasa. M-U-S-T-A-F-A. Mustafa."

The clown - Sweet Tooth - tries the name out a couple of times as they walk, and finally gets the right inflection. Then he points to a burnt shell of a hotel, with the word "RAGE" left on the wall. "Home sweet home."

Mustafa stares. Then he shrugs again and sticks his hands in his pockets. "You got a shower in there, Sweet Tooth?"

[entropy-game-dev]

v0.04a patchnotes and testing

The test of v0.04a ended a week ago, and while there were a few more crashes and bugs, the game is getting surprisingly stable (thankfully!!) thanks to my poor friends who kindly volunteered to test it! Some of the highlights of this test were as follows:

An actually awesome moment where my friend decided to unexpectedly extend their exploration by going down to the second floor, then immediately falling through a hole taking them to the completely unmapped third floor. His oxygen at this point was half, and so I told him, he should probably find his way back if possible.

The enemies on the lower floors spawn in greater numbers, and so it was quite tense, but he was relieved to come across the stairs leading upwards. Back on the second floor, he was able to find his way through an unknown map back to the first floor, but started to run low on oxygen. Finally, his oxygen ran out a few steps before the exit. The suit’s life support system kicked in, draining an increasing amount of energy with every step. Finally, with one step to go, his energy ran out, and took a tick of health damage. But just one! He got back to the ship just fine and breathed (pun not intended) a sigh of relief.

And let me tell you, the first hint of some emergent gameplay that I envisioned with the systems I had implemented, it felt really good! As for funny bugs/polish issues, he found a few:

When enemies are reduced to 0 hp, they begin exploding and don’t stop until it’s their turn (as they might want to talk to you and get recruited). However, we were discussing something and having the explosions play constantly at full volume was very distracting! (Explosion sfx volume fades out now after a while and enemies take their turn instantly when they have 0 hp.

Enemies that are forced to move to the upper row of the battlefield flip their sprite (so it looks like they’re standing on the ceiling), but I had the coordinates wrong so they were shifted too far up, and outside the viewport!

There was also this one really dodgy-looking mining node sprite (actually needs a rework, it looks awful), and my friend kept running into it and asking “what the hell is this” everytime he saw it, as it really does not resemble anything, and we were both cracking up laughing each time.

v0.05 is almost ready to go, and I expect balance testing will be happening soon!

And now, the full patchnotes of this version below the cut...

Features:

Access the options menu in the prologue by pressing spacebar!

Reset the game from the options menu!

Stars don't show up on the screen if you have a save game!

Most moves now have a 1 turn cooldown to prevent enemy (and player?) spam

Screen glitch effects now fade in and out!

Save games backup now (10 backups!!!!!!!!!!)

Hold shift + press a move key to direcitonally inspect something

Polish:

Inspecting enemies was locked behind an upgrade but it's important - replacement ability to come later

Removed erroneous space in epilepsy warning

In the navigator, no longer makes a beep noise if you press L/R but there are no other locations to select

Made numbers animate based on what elemental affinity was hit

Scan move description text shortened

Rounded position of option text to avoid subpixels

Tutorials only show after you reach the ship for the first time

Minimap tiles now update immediately when colourblindness colour is changed

Inspect text on empty/unexplored tiles changes depending on exploration status

Mining nodes don't output the mining interaction text if you don't have the ability to mine

Disabled data gained output when not researching anything (Data does nothing without ongoing research)

Battle win tutorials now only show when you win the battle (i.e. gain xp) and not when you're running

Capped the move name length on the small information panel

Help overlay is now on F1 + tutorial message explaining that

Reduced sound effect of some of the metal step effects

Disabled random stepping text during the prologue

Fixed grammar error in interaction text for draining scrap

Swapped rotate/strafe controls, added confirm and cancel to left side​

Bugs:

Debug research bypass removed

Debug control T to damage allies removed

Combat now has a reachable game over state

Hypnagogia ability was targeting the top row instead of the bottom

Enemies with the conducting affinity, spreading an attack to allies no longer crashes the game

Explosive spread now shifting enemies correctly on the vertical direction

Recruiting conditions relying on other units no longer crashes the game when triggering

Fixed targeting of summon moves

Changed defensive % modifiers to be multiplicative

Calming Wave and Optical Trap ranges (and animations) fixed from all cells to aoe

Hid all strengths/weaknesses/recruitment at the beginning of the game

Stopped crash when viewing recruitment of allies

Tutorials are now enabled by default

The right location's feature is now being deleted when interacting with treasure chests

Debug control for launching a cutscene (V) is now disabled

Dungeon features now properly fade out when collected

Dungeon features that steal resources now actually do so

End of battle results now displaying all XP, scrap, and parts given

Move execution code reordering: before, self-destruct was not working because it'd take away the HP as part of the move effect and then not execute the move due to missing HP

Parts category refreshes properly when you swap characters

Can no longer detect liquids ahead of you when the space hasn't been explored yet

Shader intensity option is now respected by shader

Can now interact with one time use machines

Fixed crash when removing unit from party

Ensured equipment was associated with the right slot when moving units around

Friendly robot dungeon features can now be interacted with again, made exception for robot not having sprite in the db

Fixed a crash when inspecting enemies

Fixed a crash when going into the options menu due to missing text

Fixed targeting being inverted

[ideas-on-paper]

Why I love Mass Effect 1's gameplay (spoiler-free review)

Very recently, I completed my first ever playthrough of Mass Effect 1 - a well renown, beloved game that has nevertheless received quite harsh criticisms for its gameplay. The somewhat rough-around the edges shooter gameplay, the confusing inventory system and frustrating Mako controls were the most common complaints, some of which BioWare addressed in the recent Legendary Edition remake of ME1.

Still, after some extensive research, I decided to buy the old trilogy version anyway (call me oldschool if you like, but I'm a bigger fan of some of the OG light effects) - and imagine my surprise when despite having signed up for a somewhat more tedious gameplay experience, I came to actually enjoy it. In fact, I think ME1 does a lot of things right that other RPGs do wrong - to this day, I might add. For analysis purposes, I will be using the game NieR: Automata (© SquareEnix/Platinum Games, 2017) as a comparison, mainly because I played these two games back to back.

The level system

One thing I absolutely loathe about modern RPGs is how you can essentially break the game by overleveling yourself - not by conscious grinding, but by simply knowing what you're doing. While the level of some enemies in Nier Automata - especially during Route A - may seem daunting at first, all of this can be completely bypassed with the help of one little trinket: the EXP+ chip. While the effect may not be immediate, you will eventually reach the point where you surpass everything the game throws at you in terms of strength - by nothing more than understanding and making use of the game's mechanics. Nier Automata tried to remedy that by introducing a level scaling system, and while this worked out fine in Route B, it appears the developers were too lazy to properly implement it during the endgame: In Route C, all of the enemies are stuck at level 50 (60 for some bosses), so they really were no match for me at level 95. At some point, I got tired of all enemies keeling over if I so much as blew in their general direction, which was one of the reasons why Route C just felt so lackluster to me.

Because of this, I decided to play Mass Effect 1 on Veteran difficulty from the start, just so I don't accidentally make the game too easy for me again (despite having never played a shooter before, lol). However, little did I know there was no need to worry, because somewhat miraculously, Mass Effect 1 manages to avoid any kind of level exploit entirely: The reason for that is that unlike in many other RPGs (including Nier Automata), leveling up doesn't give you an inherent boost to your attack/defense - instead, you have to allot points to specific skills to improve your base values. However, while a little bonus to your stats certainly helps, it's the combat skills that you should focus on: To gain the upper hand in battle, you have to make use of abilities such as temporary damage immunity, overloading the enemies' shields or making them more vulnerable to your attacks. Although this means that you will be spamming abilities pretty much non-stop, you don't have to worry about robbing yourself of any challenge, as the game will keep you on your toes from the first battle right until the final boss. Also, since the level cap is set at 50, you can't simply max out all of your skills, which acts as a nice counterbalance and compels you to distribute your points wisely. (Imagine if the level cap in Nier Automata would've been 50 - perhaps that would've made the endgame actually challenging.)

Another thing I really appreciate is that the equipment you find is always appropriate to your current level. This is because once you start a mission, land on a planet or enter a facility, the equipment you can loot is randomly generated on the spot (you can see this if you revisit a place you went to before but didn't loot: the items will always match the level you were at during your first visit). This not only prevents you from potentially finding an OP weapon early on which you can solo the whole game with, but also the awkward situation of stumbling into "low-level" sidequest when you can no longer use the items you get from them. Also, since the enemies' strength relies just as much on equipment as your own, you always fight on pretty even ground, which means you will neither run into an overpowered squad too strong for you nor an underleveled group which goes down faster than a cardboard wall. Now, that's a way to implement proper level scaling.

The game economy

Another problem that many games suffer from is that you get tons of money, but have next to no opportunity to actually spend it on anything. In the first half of Nier Automata, the "Half-wit Inventor" quest may give a motivation to invest your money into something, but once you accumulated the 180,000 G, pretty much all you need money for is buying and upgrading your weapons, and finding the materials to do the latter is generally more of an issue. The one really cost-intensive thing you need currency for is fusing chips, but since the max chip level is 6 and your capacity is limited anyway, you will arrive at the point where you neither can nor want to upgrade your chips any further. As one might guess, this resulted in me amassing huge amounts of money (in no small part due to my extensive fishing trips), but since there was nothing that I could spend it on, the numbers didn't do much besides looking good.

Mass Effect, on the other hand, possesses a very effective game economy which gives you ample opportunities to make use of the money you earned - if you're focused on optimization, that is. Even though you will find plenty of equipment lying around, it's worth checking the shops from time to time, since they sometimes offer items slightly above your current level. Of course, the prices are accordingly high, and I often had to use almost all the money I made by mining minerals, looting chests/safes, etc.

I will say though that ME1 lacks any unique weapons - ultimately, there are 1-3 "high-end" items for each equipment category (often with marginal differences in stats), while all the other inferior products can simply be disregarded. This means that you usually want to pick the best weapons and armor possible and pimp them with mods as much as you can, while the rest of the stuff is there just for selling. However, even though this may be a bit of a chore, it actually benefits the game economy as a whole: Right before the final mission, I bought a high-end armor for Wrex and two level 10 mods at the Emporium on the Citadel, almost exhausting my entire money reserves - something which wouldn't have been possible without the few extra credits I made by selling superfluous equipment to the outfitter on the ship. The only criticism I have is that there is no "sort by" filter for the selling screen (e.g. selecting that you want to sell shotguns, assault rifles, etc. instead of the standard arrangement by item level) - that would've made things less tedious and time-consuming.

Saving

This may sound silly, but one thing I honestly perceived as such a quality of life improvement when I started playing Mass Effect is that you can not only save literally everywhere, but you will also continue exactly where you left off upon loading. In Nier Automata - and quite a few other games for that matter - you can either only save at certain checkpoints, or the game will automatically place you next to the nearest checkpoint upon loading your save (which may be a fair walking distance away from where you actually left off). However, in Mass Effect, you won't find yourself in the general vicinity of where you last saved, but at the exact same spot - a true blessing that spares you a lot of backtracking and frustration. (I know some people like to call this "save-scumming", but believe me, when one of your squadmates can't join you in battle because they got stuck behind a closed door - which happened to me with Wrex on Noveria - you will thank every god in existence that you're able to load a recent save game.)

Exploration and sidequests

If there's one aspect where Nier Automata and Mass Effect are actually tied, I'd say it's the open world exploration. All criticisms aside, the environments of Nier Automata are a true highlight, and I spent hours walking around just enjoying the scenery, atmosphere, and music. Although Mass Effect is understandably more limited in the graphical department due to its release in 2007, the extraterrestrial landscapes nevertheless manage to look truly captivating, and I had fun taking screenshots of some of my favorite views. However, while you usually explore the world of Nier Automata on foot (or with a mount of your choice), you inevitably will have to use the Mako for Mass Effect's planet-bound missions. Admittedly, the Mako has absolutely earned its reputation as a bouncy vehicle with next to no roadholding, and the physics of that thing are occasionally quite insane. Still, from my experience, it's not completely uncontrollable, and as long as you don't drive like a madman and try to avoid steep terrain, you should be fine - unless you have no other choice than to vertically drive up a cliff (P.S. I hate you Eletania).

Nevertheless, my little excursions in both Nier Automata and Mass Effect ended up having a similar, very relaxing effect on me - which is something that actually surprised even myself, since I'm usually not the biggest fan of open world games. I guess that's because a lot of them tend to have huge, overwhelming maps, and while having the biggest open world is something like a "status symbol" among game developers these days, it doesn't really do anything except making me feel lost and confused. Meanwhile, the free-roaming areas of Nier Automata and Mass Effect are quite spacious, but not so large that you lose any kind of orientation. Also, another thing many open world games do (and that really annoys me) is that they simply put a bunch of symbols on your map for you to traipse around, which is really nothing more than an employment-creation measure for the player. In contrast, Nier Automata and Mass Effect deliberately avoid putting all points of interest on the map - instead, you have to find chests, minerals, and all kinds of other treasures by yourself. While this may be perceived as "userunfriendly" by some players, I think it actually encourages you to go out there and explore, and the feeling of being rewarded for your own curiosity is immensely satisfying - a thousand times better than having everything served on a silver platter.

Last but not least, although Nier Automata is the one that always gets praised for its ambivalent, disturbing sidequests - and rightfully so (in fact, you could say I enjoyed the sidequests more than the main story) - Mass Effect is in no way inferior to it: Just like in Nier Automata, there are sidequests which really make you feel pensive and empty by the end. Personally, "Citadel: Signal Tracking" and "UNC: Geth Incursions" were the ones that unsettled me the most, but "UNC: Missing Survey Team", "UNC: Dead Scientists", and "UNC: Besieged Base" are also runners-up. In general, many of the quests ultimately leave you wondering "what did I actually do right now?" and whether your actions were justified - it truly feels like an insolvable aporia with no right or wrong solution, the only difference being your own moral perspective.

Furthermore, I think it's noteworthy how sidequests are utilized in both of these games from a storytelling perspective. If you take Witcher 3, for example, you will notice that the game tries to make its sidequests into their own independent storylines - a story in a story, so to speak. Meanwhile, the approach of Nier Automata and Mass Effect is completely different: Instead of treating its sidequests as separate entities, they act as little snippets presenting themes and topics that tie directly into the main narrative, enhancing the story as a whole. Together, all these pieces form an intricate, well-constructed web, making up the essence of the story when viewed in its entirety - a strategy which I personally find way more appealing.

---

Conclusion

Despite feeling a bit dated, Mass Effect 1's gameplay still holds up surprisingly well - in fact, the game manages to avoid a lot of pitfalls that many RPGs struggle with even today. Thus, I think the first entry of BioWare's hit series truly sets the standard for what is a good RPG, being an example that all game developers should learn some valuable lessons from.

[zawazawanightmares]

Zola Malfeazium & Desperate Lesbian

You, Zola Malfeazium, are connected to Desperate Lesbian Your partner selected the 18+ server. Your partner has a starter. Type /starter or tap here to see it.

Zola Malfeazium: /starter

Desperate Lesbian : We could have fun with my OC Viola (mid-20s), who is a werewolf with a rebellious attitude, or alternatively I make up a character based on an idea you have. I primarely play as sub with some switch tendencies Kinks: teasing, overstimulation, bondage, petplay, many more- ask about anything you'd like to implement I prefer semi-paragraph style rp with actions written out and spoken words in quotes, though don't care too much about reply length example: "Oh, I don't know..." She looked aside with a faint blush. LOVE transwomen no men pls

Zola Malfeazium: (Hey.)

Desperate Lesbian : (hi!)

Zola Malfeazium: (How's it going?)

Desperate Lesbian : (good, you?)

Zola Malfeazium: (Doing fine. Are you familiar with Girl Genius?)

Desperate Lesbian : (sadly no)

Zola Malfeazium: (It's a Webcomic about a Victorian era mad scientist. Zola is a princess who acts sweet and innocent but is extremely selfish, vindictive and malicious towards those who take attention from her. Do you want a ref?)

Desperate Lesbian : (ohhh that sounds cool- and sure!

Zola Malfeazium: https://twitter.com/RainGames_Kenny/status/1308395002058416129

Zola Malfeazium: (It's funny because Viola is also the name of a character in the comic...your character can still be named that though. We'll chalk it up to coincidence.)

Desperate Lesbian : (oh that is funny tho I guess it's not an uncommon name for fictional characters what would be your idea for this?

Zola Malfeazium: (Zola runs into Viola in the woods and decides to keep her as a pet?)

Desperate Lesbian : (that sounds fun! hehehe (she will be a challenge to train tho~

Zola Malfeazium: (Zola's a lot more stubborn than she looks so it'll be fun for them both.)

Desperate Lesbian : (do you want to start this off then?

Zola Malfeazium: (Sure!)

Zola Malfeazium: Zola grumbled as she walked through the forest. "Stupid Heterodyne cu---that should be my throne! My legacy! My Gil! I'm not done with you, not by a long shot..." She kept down the path in the darkened forest, ignoring the howl she heard in the distance...

Desperate Lesbian : She was on the hunt, hungry, lead by instincts and craving as she rushed through the woods. There is a woman that caught her eye- all on her own, easy prey... presumably... She stalked up to her in the shadow of the trees, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Zola Malfeazium: At some point, Zola finally realized she was being followed. She stopped in her tracks, frowning while taking out a small pistol. "Hey, please...I'll do whatever you want, just spare me!" She put on her best scared timid voice, fully intending to put one between the eyes of her attacker when they fall upon her.

Desperate Lesbian : She couldn't help a grin at her scared little voice. Typical. A feral growl sounded from her as she jumped out of the pushes right on top of the woman to pin her to the ground.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola immediately pointed the gun at the wolf woman's eye, ignoring the agony from being pinned to the ground by a fast heavy force. She was going to pull the trigger...only to freeze and blink. "A doggy?" She asked in confusion.

Desperate Lesbian : Her predatory gaze turned wideeyed when faced with the barrel of a gun. Not what she expected after the other called out so helplessly. "I am no doggy" She growled back with a huff, seeming insulted.

Zola Malfeazium: "A doggy!" Zola grinned like a child on Christmas. "What's your name, girl? Is it something pretty like Nitro, Cyanide? Maybe...Hemlock?"

Desperate Lesbian : "I am not a doggy!!" She insisted with a louder snarl this time, attempting to knock the weapon out of the other's hand with a swing of her claw.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola willingly dropped her pistol...to cup the wolf woman's face and plant a cheerful kiss on her muzzle. Pulling back, she smiled. "I'm gonna call you Carrion...on account of how you taste!"

Desperate Lesbian : The kiss certainly caught her off guard and she soon after attempted to pull away from the other's grip. "What the fuck! My name is Viola, and I am not a fucking pet!"

Zola Malfeazium: "Shh, Carrion...Mommy's gonna take care of you..." Zola reached inside her shirt, giving Viola a sultry look as she took out a chain...along with a leather collar.

Desperate Lesbian : "No you will fucking not" She pushed the other away to get up and get some distance between them. "You will not put a fucking leash on me!"

Zola Malfeazium: "A wild one, aren't you? Well, you are a stray..." Zola's grin turned predatory as she began to advance on the rightly outraged wolfwoman. "I'll take good care of you...most of my pets last a few months. One of them even made it to the end of the year!"

Desperate Lesbian : One moment to another the hunter became the hunted. There is no way she would actually catch her though, right? She is much faster than a human. "Fuck this--" Turning around she took off the run. Though... part of her, one she would never admit to... wanted to be caught.

Zola Malfeazium: With a deft motion, relying more on accuracy than speed, Zola had the chain wrapped around Viola's neck by throwing where she was heading instead of directly after her. She smirked as she began to drag her back. "You might be a cutie, Carrion...but it looks like someone needs to learn some discipline."

Desperate Lesbian : The chain catches on her and she chokes on it, making her trip and fall over before being dragged back. Panicked, she growled and thrashed, trying to tear and rip the chains apart. "Fuck you!!"

Zola Malfeazium: "If you're good." Zola teased as she dragged her back to her feet, finally releasing the grip on her throat to let her breathe...only to sit herself on her face. "What's the matter, Carrion? Don't I smell good?"

Desperate Lesbian : She just about caught her breat when the woman lowered herself on her face- smelling the aroma of arousal through her pants. She can't help getting a little heated at it herself and she squirmed, though now firmly pinned in place.

Zola Malfeazium: "I'm guessing it's time I gave you a treat, so you know how nice I am." Zola said as she crouched up to pull down her leggings, exposing her wet pussy to Viola before sitting it on her face again. "Go ahead and lick to your heart's content; it's what you'll have for dessert every night."

Desperate Lesbian : She... could easily bite, couldn't she? Sharp canine teeth ready to rip and tear and prey, but... her scent is far too enticing in another way, awakening other cravings- even stronger so as she undressed and pressed those delicious lips against her maw without any barrier. A whine escapes her and she runs a tongue over the slit, tasting her. It let a shudder of arousal run through her.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola let a smug expression come over her face, allowing herself to drip into the wolf woman's mouth as she looked down at Viola's own crotch. "Mmm...does my puppy have a special treat for me...?"

Desperate Lesbian : Soon she lapped her tongue hungrily at Zola's pussy, unable to resist her taste. She indeed is squirming with need herself now, beneath fur her slit is glistening with arousal- inviting to be played with.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola reached down, almost purring at she rubbed at the lips underneath the fur. "I guess I'm spoiling you...but you're cute so I can't help it." Clutching the chain with her other hand, she pulled her fingers back and sucked the juices off of them.

Desperate Lesbian : A moan sounded from the wolf woman muffled beneath the other's thighs. She rolled her hips in search of more friction and whined as the hand pulled away.

Zola Malfeazium: "Looks like Mommy needs her own treat. Excuse me..." Zola pulled on the chain as she bent over, practically trapping Viola's lips against her slit as she herself began to lap at Viola's wet pussy, eagerly licking up her fluids.

Desperate Lesbian : She moaned louder this time, even harder to catch her breath with pleasure flooding her mind and her being pressed nose-deep in Zola's delicious slit. Nothing else to do than to lap and suck at it with increasing hunger, whines muffled.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola kept enjoying her captive meal, paying special attention to Viola's clit as she leaked cum in the wolf woman's mouth, ready to climax at any second...

Desperate Lesbian : The bucks of her hips get more desperate, breathing hitched as the close attention to her sensitive clit quickly worked her towards the edge as well. Any pleading is completely muffled, words swallowed by those lips she laps at and feeds so hungrily on, slightly rough tongue repeatedly running over her clit.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola moaned with her mouth over Viola's button, cumming directly into the lupine vixen's mouth while shivering, giving a tight tug on the chain to make the air flow more restricted for the wolf woman.

Desperate Lesbian : She whined as the chain choked her again, struggling against it- her lightheadedness only increased when soon after her own climax hit her, shivering all over with the afterwaves- panting for breath with the restricted air flow making it hard to recover.

Zola Malfeazium: Zola released her grip, getting off of Viola's face to lie down next to her, circling her finger on her chest. "Well, ready to be my pet, Carrion?" Not even waiting for the answer, Zola attached the collar around Viola's neck.

Desperate Lesbian : She is too exhausted to get up, much less fight the other as the collar is put around her. Her instincts are no longer to be trusted either, not hungry what she got a taste for... urging her to stay close, stay close to a mate. "I-I'm Viola..." She protested weakly, still catching her breath.

Desperate Lesbian : (maybe the chain and also part of the collar are silver, making it impossible for her to remove because of the power it has over werewolves?=

Zola Malfeazium: Zola frowned, tugging on the chain again to bring Viola's face inches away from hers. "I'm not looking for a correction. I'm looking for "Yes, Master." Got it?"

Zola Malfeazium: (Yes! Lucky break for Zola.)

Desperate Lesbian : Pulled close, she frowned and first instinct is to growl at her... before she submissively averted her gaze. "Y...yes master..."

Zola Malfeazium: Zola's smile returned, kissing Viola on the nose. "Good girl..."

Zola Malfeazium: (Thank you so much!)

You left the chat

[evereinefaust]

*.·:·.✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 ✧.·:·.*

"You know, I always wonder what we look like in the game..."

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked, her curious emerald eyes blinking at a certain [h/c]ette.

The girl beside the blonde hummed, tapping away at her phone. "I never visit the Unity Plaza much, though I'm still curious as to what we look like there."

"There's an event going on right now, right? The one about the plaza?"

"Yep! That's why I'll visit the plaza now and see tons of us there," [Y/n] smirked, her lips curving up into her signature cat-like grin. 

The two girls were lounging in the open garden, sitting side by side on a bench. The weather was beautiful and breezy, it made them relax despite their busy lives. They just finished their shooting session earlier in the day which was fortunate for them since the studio was jam-packed with their fellow actors waiting for their turns to record. It shows that being early to something is advantageous. That's why these two young girls were lazing around outside, [Y/n] playing the game while Charlotte would occasionally strike up a conversation.

Speaking of playing the game, Lord of Heroes is having a limited-time event regarding the Unity Plaza. Ever since it was implemented in the game a few months back, the young [h/c]ette was quite interested in it. For her, it is a unique way of interacting and socializing with other players. However, the only thing you can do is run around the area, pose for a picture, or do a friendly battle with fellow players. Although those seem enough, not many fancy visiting the plaza just for that. That's why the feature was barely used.

Though, of course, that changes when the development team introduced a new limited-time quest that would interest players in completing. And that's what this particular girl was doing right now.

"It's been a while since I went to the plaza," [Y/n] mentioned, the screen of her device now showing the Garden of Blessing jam-packed with 30 players. "And it's rare that I see other players visit the plaza before so I never get the chance to see multiple characters in the same area."

"Oh! I see a lot of you here~" Charlotte beamed, her eyes scanning the sea of players on screen, though in particular, a certain character dominated the masses. Soon, the blonde giggled. "Are you everyone's favorite hero now?"

"I would be thrilled if that's the case. That only means that I get to be on the list of most popular heroes," she snickered, though a blush was visible on her cheeks at the compliment. "Well then, let's see who we have here."

[Y/n]'s character, which was set to the light version of herself, moved forward. After running towards the middle where everyone was, she stopped. The girl decided to walk around the sea of players and observe their chosen character representative. Everyone else was standing around, above their heads were indications that they were battling against others.

"Ooh~ There's Johan!"

Seeing a certain blonde knight in the area, [Y/n] moved her character toward the idling player. This Johan was wearing the limited knight outfit and had the limited-time crystal antlers on his head. A smile was brought to the girl's face. She positioned herself next to the player, her character bumping shoulders with the man. She tapped the emoticons button, trying out every pose available. Once she found the one she was interested in, she tapped it and her character did the said pose. Immediately tapping the camera button, she took a screenshot of them in the plaza.

"You look exactly like your in-game character," the blonde mused, inching closer to [Y/n]'s side to see the screen. "Even the height is kinda accurate."

"Hm... you're right. I wonder if they made it as accurate as possible."

"How about we test it? I wanna see the other heroes you also have!"

[Y/n] nodded at Charlotte's suggestion. "Sure, let's do that!"

Tapping at the customization button, [Y/n] scrolled through the countless heroes she had in her roster. One by one, she and Charlotte observe how they were translated into the game. So far, each character was around the same height as they were in real life, save for a few heroes that were modified to fit the characters the devs have in mind. It amazed [Y/n] that the game developers could even do such intricate things to make their creations look more realistic. Moreso with the decorations and fine details in the plaza itself.

"I wonder if we'll have a place dedicated to simulating the Unity Plaza in real life... Man, now I'm interested in having a real-life Unity Plaza like in the game!"

"Let's go with Joshua next!" Charlotte suggested enthusiastically, her emerald eyes practically shimmering at this point.

[Y/n] chuckled, happy to see how invested this girl is with the product of their career. Abiding in her wish, the [h/c]ette clicked on fire Joshua's character and set him as the representative. As soon as they returned to the plaza and each player slowly fades into existence, what both girls saw astounded them...

In real-life, Joshua and Johan are of the same height. Although they were rarely seen together, both girls knew what they look like, considering they'd been co-workers for many years now. That's why seeing Joshua's character in the game is shorter than Johan's... well...

"J-Joshua?! W-wha—pft! Ahahaha!" [Y/n] burst out laughing at the sight.

"I thought they would be the same height? What happened?" Charlotte laughed along with her friend, despite being confused at the occurrence. 

"Joshua's short! They're totally different in size!"

Both [Y/n] and Charlotte broke down into peals of laughter after watching their friend's character getting dwarfed by Johan. It looks like the pink-haired male was a few inches shorter than the blonde, and seeing that in-game just amplified [Y/n]'s enthusiasm. Now that she had seen this, she now has another reason to tease the pinkette excessively.

Tears were already emerging from the corner of [Y/n]'s eyes, her cheeks and stomach burning from the laughing she was doing. Yet, her [e/c] hues were still focused on her device, zooming in to see a close-up height difference between the two males who were supposed to be the same height.

"I... I can't believe this..." she breathed out, trying to calm herself from the high despite eliciting a few giggles here and there. "I can't believe the devs have done Joshua like this..."

"What do you think happened? Do you think they'll fix it in the future?"

Wiping away a tear from her eye, [Y/n] faced Charlotte, her smile hadn't faded from her face yet. "I don't know. Though considering that this is still in the game after so long, I doubt they would."

"And I don't mind if they don't fix it. Now I have ways to tease some of the boys because of this. Hehe~"

After calming down, the two girls decided to continue with their task — comparing their real-life friends with their game counterparts. Just like with Joshua, it seems that a few of them weren't translated properly in the game. For instance, Ricardo is supposed to be around Johan and Mikhail's height. Yet when Ricardo was standing near either of the two, he was noticeably shorter. The same goes for Rashad who was supposed to be taller than them. Ondal, on the other hand, is supposed to be one of the tallest characters, yet he was shortened. Even the floating characters, such as Brandon and Laphlaes, weren't accurate.

"Oh my God... Brandon looks so tiny compared to Johan..." [Y/n] murmured, moving the blonde knight even closer to a player who had Brandon as a representative.

Zooming in, her [e/c] hues closely examined each character's features. Despite being shorter than the blonde in real life, Brandon is still relatively average. Yes, he may be on the shorter side of the spectrum but the game just decided to dunk on his height. And by that, [Y/n] noticed that Brandon is seemingly smaller; even his head and body proportions were small compared to Johan. That is the common similarity she deduced from observing the other characters experiencing the same circumstance.

"I wonder how they take this information..." Charlotte pondered aloud, sighing sadly afterward. "That makes me feel bad."

[Y/n] hummed, a mischievous glint appearing in her [e/c] pools. "Well, I know what to do with this information~"

"Jo~shu~a~"

Several actors left the studio after recording their part. Among them was the said pinkette. Joshua turned to face the caller, his rose-colored hues immediately spotting a certain [h/c]-haired girl hopping in his direction. He offered a small smile and a tired wave of his hand.

"Hey, [Y/n]. Didn't you already finish filming earlier? You still hadn't gone home?" the male asked, an eyebrow raised. 

"Nope~ I didn't," the younger chirped, hopping closer to Joshua. "So what were you up to now?"

He shrugged, the fatigue evident on his handsome face. "I'll rest in the lounge before heading home."

At those words, [Y/n]'s signature cat-like grin appeared on her face. Sidling to Joshua's side, they then proceeded towards the lounge together. Entering the room, they saw their fellow actors resting inside. The girl's eyes scanned the inhabitants and smirked upon seeing her targets.

Joshua sat on an available couch and [Y/n] followed suit, hogging the space beside him. The man didn't mind at all, as his head was filled with thoughts of relaxing after arriving home. On the other hand, this particular girl was thinking of something to mildly disturb her companion. Pulling out her phone and opening the game, she giggled.

"Hey, Josh."

"Hm?"

"I want to show you something."

Joshua raised his eyebrows in confusion while [Y/n] was tapping away on her phone. His half-lidded eyes observed the girl and what she was doing on her phone. Although he can't clearly see the screen, all the small sounds and bits of images that he could see make him realize it's Lord of Heroes. After a few minutes, [Y/n] inched closer and showed him the screen. The man glanced down and saw himself in the game, the camera zoomed in on his face.

He rose a brow. "...This is me."

"Yup! Then look at this," placing her finger and thumb on the screen, [Y/n] slowly zoomed out to let a Johan be shown on the screen.

"And that's Johan?" Joshua was confused at this point, not understanding what the girl wanted to show to him. Briefly facing her, he noticed the smirk on her face.

Just seeing that made the man feel a shiver run down his spine. That smirk is a bad sign from the young actress, and he knew her long enough that she was certainly up to no good when she had that smirk. Whatever shenanigans she has in mind this time, the male knows that he must be prepared for it.

"Is that the only thing you've noticed? Poor Joshua..." she feign a concerned sigh, shaking her head in disappointment. "I can't believe that you didn't realize how short you are compared to Johan."

"What?"

"Hm?"

Blinking innocently, [Y/n] pursed her lips into a thin line, an unsettling smile present. Her round [e/c] orbs observed Joshua's tired features shift. Briefly, his rose-colored eyes widened a bit before returning to their normal size. Then, he appeared a bit annoyed with a slight crease in between his brows, though he tried not to show that on his face. [Y/n] had to contain her excitement at his reaction. Other than Astrid, this girl is another bane to the man.

The man sighed, rubbing his temple. "What are you trying to say?"

"That you're short, of course~" [Y/n] grinned happily, as if she wasn't the cause behind Joshua's current annoyance. She leaned against his arm, her [e/c] orbs staring into his ruby ones. "And I am the queen of making sure you get the point."

With a sigh, Joshua rolled his roseate orbs to the ceiling. It takes every ounce of strength not to roll his eyes at her behavior. However, he returned his half-lidded orbs to the [h/c]-haired female beside him, his expression unhappy and tired, causing the [h/c]-haired woman to giggle silently to herself. 

"Are you serious? And do you really have to be like that?"

"Yes~" [Y/n] cooed cutely, tilting her head ever so slightly. Soon, her facial expression changed — an imitation of Anya's mischievous facade. "And you know that you and the others will suffer from my intensive teasing~"

And just like that, [Y/n] decided to wreak havoc on the target of her teasing for the remainder of their day. That's why Joshua, Brandon, Ricardo, Rashad, and some others left the building more exhausted than ever.

[topblokechase]

Big Bertha Final Update Part 1

Getting back into it with assignment 3, this time in a group. For this assignment we needed to create a game, playetest it, then write a playtesting report.

The first thing we did was compare notes and decide our game concept. Thankfully, all of us wanted to make an asteroids game. While my game was the most mechanically complete, another team member had a much clearer concept and much better (like a lot better) sprites. So we decided to combine the two, merge my mechanics with the game concept and visuals of the other team member, here is the one page we came up with:

With a solid direction, decent sprites, and a good deal of excitement I got to work. Being the most experience with programming, and the most excited about creating a game I toopk on the role of main programmer, in charge of making the game in GDevelop, while the others took over sound design and visual design.

The first thing I did was set myself a series of goals that I wanted to acheive so that by the end of my list I'd have a fully functioning game. My first goal was to implement movement for the player, heres what I ended up with:

The movement was smoothe, it felt responsive, and the "slippery" feel felt great to play around with. Implementing this was more difficult than I expected in GDevelop. I had to utilise several processes adding or subtracting permanant forces to the player. Firstly a force is added forwards when W is pressed, nice and simple. But once the player reaches their max speed they needed to stop accelerating. What I found worked best was adding the acceleration to the player anyway, but subtracting the difference from max speed immediately after. After that I needed to add friction. This ended up being somewhat simple, but figuring out how to make it feel good took a lot of trial and error. As long as the player is moving, a reverse force is added equal to a percentage of the players current speed. I also found that adding it after acceleration meant the player never truly got to max speed, so I had to calculate friction first.

My next task was to add weaponry to the player, a main gun laser, and a secondary fire missile. Shooting the lasers and missile was simple enough, but after resizing they would spawn off centre based on the orientation of the player. To fix this I had to add additional steps after spawning and resizing to then reposition them at the gun. I found this to be an annoying element of GDevelop, because of it's simplicity, doing seaminly simple tasks can often become bulky repetative functions. Something I am really proud of was the missile. To add a sense of realism, I gave them very slow initial velocities with a ramping acceleration. This felt awesome to use, and even better when you hit. Without any sprites for smoke, I reused small explosions as a missile trail and the effect looked amazing, I couldn't wait to get actual smoke sprites to replace them.

Next on the list was geting asteroids and enemies functional. Enemies were pretty simple, just copying the player functions with a couple tweaks. Asteroids were even simpler, just needed to spawn them in and give them speed and collisions. Something that was rather difficult to program in GDevelop was asteroid avoidance for enemies. It worked well enough when there was only 1 of each, but once there were several objects of both kinds things became complicated. Most of the issues stemed from GDevelops selection system. Getting 1 object to behave uniquely against all the other same objects made the programming very bulky and repetative. This project really highlighted the downfalls of a simplistic program like GDevelop. See the next part for the results...

[x-amount-verbs]

Discipline (2/4)

(A Helping Hand pt 25 - Silco POV)

[previously, Dominance: pt 24’s reverse POV]

[silco x f!reader/oc] [4832 words] [nsfw] [d/s] [impact play (cane, crop)] [glove kink] [light humiliation] [hair pulling] [dom silco has dirty thoughts]

(series headers from this art by @dad-dumpster )

AO3 Link

“Bend over the desk.”

The shock is priceless. Silco has to resist grinning at the transparent surprise on her face as her head snaps toward him. He has to stop himself from clutching the handle inches from his fingers, despite the temptation. He stays still, stays unmoving, unyielding, expectant for her obedience.

The play of emotions over her face is less worrisome within this context. Her vulnerability isn’t a threat here. He can enjoy her full range of emotions without feeling taunted by them.

Pink starts to creep onto her cheeks, eyes wide and jaw slack for a moment before snapping shut, swallowing visibly.

Gods, she’s perfect. For all Silco has seen her do, here she dwindles down to a one-track mind, and it is amazing to witness. Even more thrilling to cause.

“Face front, forearms flat, and bend over the desk,” he reiterates.

Fingers slide from the edge of the desk, brushing the handle of the tool waiting there. Rarely given the opportunity to use these particular tools— and, honestly, rarely this eager to use them. She awakens things in him he hasn’t properly indulged in for years.

When she doesn’t immediately obey, he gives her a chance to prove she’s been listening, even if she hasn’t yet decided to physically cooperate. “Can you do that for me?” All he needs is a yes sir. That will tell him she’s still in the game, even if she hasn’t obeyed yet.

The tiny confused frown makes him want to cup her face in his hands and push her down to her knees. Such a small gesture to spark such depravity.

She’s sluggish to respond, facing forward slowly. But she’s responding. Hands flat and sensually sliding across his purposefully bare desk, lowering herself to her elbows.

Grip closing around the cane’s handle, he takes advantage of her averted gaze to pluck the implement from its delicate lean against the side of the desk, stepping away and transferring it to his preferred hand. Like hers; a lefty, though he’s learned to adapt.

Silco already suspects her answer before he verbally nudges again, adjusting his grip as he shifts back for a better angle. “I asked you a question.” Admiring the soft swell of her rear as she takes her position, offering a perfectly tempting target.

He doesn’t need to see her face to know the little frustrated press of lips, the annoyance that tugs brows closer. “I’m-”

That’s not a please, thank you, or yes.

Before she can finish her irritated protest, he tilts his head - caught between cool calculation and that rampant rush just under his skin - judging his swing.

“-already doin-”

THWACK

There’s a loud snap of rod against skin, and she topples forward, collapsing against the desk.

Silence, apart from panted breath.

…Ah.

Hm.

She’s quieter than he expected.

His own body hums with the rush, the thrill of power, buzzing in his very veins. Pupils blown wide from the very first impact. His breath feels labored, pulse picked up.

But he may have made a mistake. Let his own excitement drive his hand— come down too hard.

Carefully - steadying his breath, calming his own excited nerves - Silco raises the cane, and steps closer to set it on the desk.

Too much. It was too much, too fast. He can slow down. He will slow down.

Wait. Don’t leave.

Deep breaths. Let that single surge of panic fade. It’s been a long while since he did this with someone who wasn’t a professional; he’s out of practice. He can do better than this.

Calmly, cool and collected, and gentle as he can manage: “That’s the worst of it.”

He has worse toys, but he won’t bring them out. Not after that. He’s set a boundary, and he’ll keep to it. If she even stays.

He wants her to stay.

Silco wants her to stay so much that he’s about ready to promise leniency, to ask if she needs a break, maybe even to apologize— but he stops himself. Barely. Swallowing all of that down. Forcing himself to sit with that uncertainty until he’s accepted it.

If she chooses to leave, she can, but he’s not going to lower himself to pleas or promises.

It feels like forever, waiting for her decision. Waiting to see if she’ll forgive his heavy hand.

She struggles to her feet— but elbows stay firmly on the desk.

Fuck. Thank fuck. Gods above and below, she stayed. Somehow, he’s surprised. The relief is overwhelming. But it’s still not assured.

He gives her a moment to change her mind. Then… “Are you ready to continue?”

Silently, she nods.

That’s not enough. If he’s going to do this, she has to be sure, and silence isn’t sure. “Words.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The word is like a hit, every obeisance a drop of shimmer in his system. But Silco isn’t stupid; that deference is earned, not blindly given— and he very nearly ruined it out of boyish zeal. He won’t do that again. That’s a promise.

His voice comes out softer, though well aware he can’t break authority. “Good girl.”

Take a breath.

Good. Good, that’s settled then. The fun can really begin.

Limbs are near to shaking as he moves back to his seat. He’s relieved to drop into his chair, letting that anxiety loosen, reassured that all things are a go. Plans can be put into motion. Ideas that have been at the forefront of his mind since last night’s confession.

Writhing with want, hands hooked on the opposite edge of the desk. Her little cries and mews and the way her eyes went glassy last night. No drugs needed to recreate it; sheer desire, pure endorphins, her body providing the high for her.

Middle drawer holds gloves, picked precisely for the occasion. A scarred lip lifts, devious, reminded of the lush feeling of ownership that came from seeing her wear his glove. Knowing she’d probably used it again and thought of him the whole time, watching her hand in the mirror as she braided, trapped with the memory of him.

Then again, now Silco is trapped with the memory of her. The feel of his hands in her hair, the obliging way she bowed her head. How much he’d wanted to lean down, to press his mouth to the skin gradually revealed as hair was tamed into a braid. The rush that had him breathing too deep as he’d leaned close, careful not to touch too much, just the glove sliding down her front as he caged her in. Savoring his arm against hers, his chest at her back, the way her head fit so perfectly against him.

There had been a moment he was so sure he would kiss her. Some delusional part of him had been so ready to brush lips against hers— or her cheek, or her forehead— but luckily she’d grabbed his arm and he’d come to his senses. Her desire to cling certainly sobers him up.

No clinging today. Hands flat on the desk, there’s little to no risk of her damned wandering hands. It’s not hypocrisy; it’s an exercise in power. At least that’s how he sees it. Chooses to see it. She wants him to touch her, so he will; he doesn’t want her to touch him, so she won’t. His choice, her obedience.

The gloves add a layer of distance, a good separation between them. That they come with a memory is simply a bonus.

Fingers drum at the air as Silco’s fingers slide into place, fitted leather snug on his hands. When he looks again, she’s blushing. He expects that to continue for the next long while, if he does his job right. What is discipline without shame?

The best thing about these games is getting to indulge his own whims. He can look as much as he wants, knowing how his attention affects her, even as she craves it. Brazenly, he studies the pink on her ears, watches her wince eyes closed, lips caught between her teeth, embarrassed. He traces the ghost of scars on her jaw, her forehead, her cheek, some deeper than others. The fall of hair over her shoulder.

“Have you been practicing?” He hasn’t seen her in a braid since that night.

Her immediate reaction gives him her answer even before the word hurriedly spills from her, eyes wide and blush spreading. “No.”

Didn’t he very specifically say that word was off limits? And, if it’s true, that’s another assignment she’s purposefully chosen not to complete. …Which means just another reason to discipline.

Pulling closer to his desk brings Silco easily within arm’s reach of his target. His right hand lifts to wrap a strand of hair around his finger. “I told you to practice,” he reminds her; an assignment meant to aid her self image as much as her dexterity. Another twirl of his finger, then another. Pressure starting to throb at the fingertip. “Are you saying you’ve disobeyed me yet again?”

The play of fear and shame and irritation that flickers over her face tugs his smirk sharper.

“No, I—”

The perfect excuse. Burying his fingers in her hair, gripping right against the scalp, he braces a shin against the desk drawers to keep his chair from rolling. “There’s that word again.” It’s a losing game, really: made that way, just to be difficult for her. But she’s a clever girl, surely she can attempt another solution. Even a petulant silence would serve— but her impulsivity has been known to outweigh common sense. Petulance seems to be fading, however, as she freezes in his grasp.

He watches her face, curious to see the moment she breaks, and tugs her further across the desk, enjoying the little wince as she raises up on tiptoes to reach. “Let me be clear: you’ve disobeyed me again.” He hasn’t felt quite this delighted by disobedience since his own youth. “I gifted you my glove for a reason, and I find it hard to believe you’ve been using it.”

The sudden wide eyes, the rush of heat—

Oh.

…Oh. Filthy girl.

“…Unless you’ve been using it for something else…”

The vision of her knuckle-deep in her cunt, wearing his ownership to do it— Thank gods for his desk, because that concept is… ohhhh that’s good.

She looks about to spontaneously combust.

Riding her hand, picturing his cock. Stroking deep, head thrown back, body that glorious arch she’d demonstrated last night. He can only imagine the stifled whines spilling out of her, touching herself in the dead of night.

“Well?”

Admit to it. Oh to hear those words from her lips. Gods, to hear her say it, to say I fucked myself with your hand. Silco is hungry for it. Needs it from her.

Yet somehow she looks confused.

“Have you been misusing my gift?” he prompts, brow raised.

“No— ngnhh!”

The breathy little mess of a moan that crests her lips as he tightens his grip— it’s better even than deference. Better than his title, or his name. In this instance, it’s better than all of that.

And it’s outright delightful.

A short laugh catches in his chest. Finally. No way for her to hide that, not when face to face, not when he’s still got a hand in her hair, and she’s pulled nearly halfway onto the desk.

Oh this game just got more interesting.

She glares (not much of a threat in her current position) and he holds her gaze for a moment. Can you guess what comes next? It’s like he’s taunting her. Keeping his eyes on her as he reaches his free hand for the toy drawer. Glancing down just long enough to pick the proper handle from the arranged implements, he draws the crop out in one graceful movement.

Horses are far from a Zaun staple, but as is often the case, Piltover’s tastes filtered into the Undercity in bastardized ways— one of which being the prevalence of certain tastes in premier brothels.

Ideally, Silco would use his bare hands for discipline, or wrestle her into some proper rope, but all of that is too close for what they currently have. Closer than he wants her, for now. Or, perhaps— closer than he’ll allow her. What he wants is a mess in its own right. For now, implements like cane and crop offer some distance between them.

Still holding his grip in her hair, he sets the crop on the desk before her, watching the reaction.

Gods, that gorgeous struggle of want and shame. Her breath quickens, and Silco lets his eyes wander. He finds his gaze on her mouth. Then her jaw. Her neck. The perfect frame her neckline makes of her cleavage. Even the little clasp nestled down between her breasts. Words drawl so casually as he drinks her in. “First manners, now honesty. We have quite a bit of discipline to teach you, hm?” He, for one, can’t wait to begin.

Eyes trip along her collar, her sleeve, and down her right arm, consideringly. Halting on the hand. The position doesn’t strain her, does it? Elbows should be helping with that.

Still, he loosens his grip, freeing his hand and allowing her to wobble back onto her heels.

“Again. Have you abused the gift given to you in good faith?”

All she has to do is admit to it. Of course, she won’t.

“No, I told-”

He picks up the crop, and she flinches away from finishing her next words. Not bad memories associated with the tool, is it? Just nerves, surely.

Regardless, Silco sinks back into his seat, giving her distance as he thumbs at the grip of the tool. Give her a moment to calm down, to get used to the look of it. Maybe even to let her imagination run wild.

Paradoxically, his own imagination must be carefully neutered. As much as he prides himself on self control, there’s only so much a man can imagine before his lust becomes known. And, as much as he wouldn’t mind her getting a hint of the lascivious tableaux he’s imagined for her, a visible sign of that prurience when he stands might jeopardize his position on the board.

So he reminds himself he’s a fully grown man, not some teenager who can’t keep it in his pants, and lets the crop serve to keep her at arms length. Once she’s no longer flinching, he lets it start at her hand, and slowly drags it up the arm piece.

The jolt as the tress of the crop crests ceramic to skim over flesh (clothed as it may be) only assures him; when she can feel again— when, not if— he’ll take a great deal more pleasure in this. The way she shivers as he pulls the implement across her shoulder, dipping down to trace the line of her collarbone before dragging the folded leather tongue up her neck. He takes an even breath as she so obligingly lifts her chin with hardly an ounce of pressure from him. Good girl.

It’s another little test of obedience as he orders, “Open.”

Heat on her cheeks, surprise half-coated with desire. Her gaze darts away coyly.

“Look at me.” He wants to see that surrender, the guilty pleasure as she gives in. He wants to see her come undone, in every way, as many times as possible.

Her gaze is slow to return, but return it does, and he holds it, imperiously.

“Open.”

As much as Silco wants to hold her gaze, to watch how she melts under his attention, his eyes immediately go to the movement, the soft round shape her lips make, the wet of her lips.

Sliding his length between those plush lips, the soft hum against skin as she whines—

A breath. Calm down. Be patient.

The curve of the tress moves to the tip of her chin. Suck. As much as he tries to curb his enthusiasm, that spark of thought - that order that stays itself from his lips - makes his cock jump. He can’t resist skimming over her chin to invade her mouth with the tool. He may actually be disappointed when she doesn’t close around it. But if he can’t have that, he’ll simply—

Mouth wide and jaw slack, thrusting to back of her throat as her eyes water—

He has to stop himself groaning, as the light press to her tongue has her mouth falling open invitingly, a little dribble of saliva proving just how wet a hole he’s found.

Her whimper makes him twitch again.

Breathe. Calm. Patience.

His words are even, poker face as reliable as always. “I’ll reiterate our rules. ‘Please, Sir,’ ‘thank you, Sir,’ or ‘yes, Sir.’” Even breath. “If you cannot answer truthfully, do not answer at all.” Calm the body. “If I need you to speak freely, I’ll ask it of you.” Have some patience. “Is that clear?”

Silco isn’t opposed to letting her answer when needed. He doesn’t want to truly take her voice, just make her think before speaking.

Her chest has flushed pink, cheeks hued red, that innocent look in her eyes that makes him want to do horrible things. But she doesn’t answer.

His raised brow finally prompts words, her yes Sir muffled by the leather pressed to her tongue. Satisfied - both that his own body is under control, and that she’s ready to continue their game - he frees her mouth and stands, returning to his position behind her, freed from her scrutiny, even if he can no longer enjoy the crystal clear play of thoughts across her face.

Toying with the crop in his hand, he finds the proper grip and gets a feel for its length before— “So.”

Her little gasp and jolt as he touches her with the tip makes him smirk, angling the tip beneath the hem of her skirt to push fabric up over her backside. “You very clearly haven’t been—”

An uncomfortable chill hits as he spots a darkened splotch of bruised skin on the outer curve of one thigh. A flash of pain, jealousy, concern— simplified down to anger.

It wasn’t someone else, that thought was dismissed instantly, but— he expected better from her. For all he’s seen her bite and pinch, he never expected her to punish herself enough to mark so thoroughly. Is this what happens when he doesn’t keep an eye on her? If he hadn’t assigned her work elsewhere— if she’d stayed, would she have resorted to this?

And if it is his fault: no, it’s not. Silco told her to stop, she should’ve stopped. This attention-seeking self harm goes so thoroughly against his plan for her, he’s struck by that mix of failure and righteous indignation.

“…Where’s the bruise from.” It’s a cold demand. He wants the truth.

Stepping closer, he examines the mark. Dark, so it’s still relatively fresh. A day or two. He didn’t spot it last night, but it can’t be from this morning, can it? And large. Raising his hand, he slides fingers around the curve of her thigh, careful not to press too hard, comparing the size. About the same as his palm, if not his full hand.

Her squeak isn’t an answer, so he presses firmly to the center of the bruise. Grimly, he figures if she’s so keen to hurt herself, she ought to enjoy that pain.

“It’s—” She swallows any other words.

Something in his chest twinges. He wants the truth; this isn’t about their game. If his tone softens at all, he doesn’t acknowledge it. “Speak freely.”

“It’s nothing.” She sounds breathless— sheepish, nervous, and— gentle. “I fell.”

He’s not sure he believes her. As much as he hopes she’d only tell him the truth, he isn’t sure.

Releasing her, he brings the crop up, avoiding the bruise to find its matching spot on the opposite thigh. “Did you do this to yourself?” If she did, he won’t be avoiding it. A heavy strike against it might remind her pain isn’t always fun. (Or so he tells himself— too much of him feels guilt over it, that he must have neglected her if she fell into that particular habit, frustration that she could do such a thing after he’d specifically told her to keep her body unharmed.)

“No.” It’s given so quickly, and so emphatically, that Silco is inclined to believe her. “No, Sir,” she corrects, and his grip loosens on the crop. She’s trying, at least. “I didn’t have a spotter and my ladder fell, but the hand is fine, I swear.”

Another twinge. This isn’t about the hand. “And the host?” As he told her: she is the investment. And she’s expected to keep his investment in pristine condition.

If anyone’s going to mark her, it will be him.

“…I’m fine.” Said so softly that he’s glad he can’t see her face. “I’ve had worse.”

…She’s not kidding, but she ought to be, with that lack of self awareness. “Yes, I’m aware: that’s what brought you into my care to begin with, you’ll remember.” And he’s not exactly doing his job if she’s still managing to get hurt while he’s supposedly taking care of her recovery.

Or rather: she’s not obeying his directions.

The crop snaps against that mirrored spot on her opposite thigh, matching the location of her bruise. “I think we’ve previously established that my investment isn’t to be endangered.” He slides the leather tongue over blushing skin, soothing the little slap.

When she doesn’t respond, Silco repeats the strike.

That’s enough to remind her. “Yes, Sir.” Very good.

“And your carelessness and impetuous nature seem to be putting both my property and my investment at risk.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

He pauses. It’s not a yes, please, or thank you, but it’s still suitably polite. And it’s right for her to apologize; she was careless, putting herself in danger for a whim that would’ve been so easily remedied. Honestly, how hard would it have been to ask for help? Well— knowing her... That isn’t precisely her forte, is it? He can try to train her out of the habit, but she’s far more headstrong in life than in their games.

The crop moves on its own, a gentle motion over the reddened spot on her thigh, before sliding along the lower curve of her bottom. She has a lovely shape. “...I’m sure you’ll make it up to me,” he muses, tracing inward toward her core.

A sharp slap draws a noise from her throat.

More. More of that. Such wonders discipline can bring.

“Impertinent little minx.” He slaps at her inner thigh again. Not hard - there’s no room for hard - but hoping to pull more sound out of her. One side and then the other, watching her stance widen and legs open for him, and the thin whine that pulls in the air goes straight to his cock.

More.

Another snap, a firm strike hitting just below the curve of her rear, a spot perfectly bared by her relatively modest underwear. Thin cotton, covering bits Silco would rather feast on, but leaving a good amount of cheek exposed for him to redden. The next strike hits a similar spot just as hard, one he remembered well after the numerous excellent reactions it elicited from previous partners.

She lurches forward, knees briefly twisting inward in a little bodily tell. His mouth waters, so tempted to touch, to feel the heat of her through that thin fabric, the indubitable dew his punishment causes.

A single twist of legs is practically the equivalent of pressing her thighs together: she’s wet. He knows without being able to feel it— or see it, or taste it. He can imagine the rest of her, too. Glassy eyes and proud little nipples standing at attention, and the slick sign of want between her thighs.

She’s warmed up, so to speak— which just means they can launch into the punishment proper. See just how much she can take.

“Six days of subpar obedience.” Every blatantly rude scrap of paper tempting him to confront her sooner. “Two days of late reports.” When he’d forbade Sevika from being the messenger, hoping to draw her back to face him properly. “One day of truancy.” And the worry he’d suffered thinking something serious may have happened to her. The frustration born of that unwanted anxiety. “One drunken display of willfulness.” Wanting to fuck her up against the door last night, and feeling disgusting for it.

He counts up the incidents. “That’s ten.”

Is ten enough to truly get his point across? Perhaps more importantly: will ten be enough for him? She’s so tempting. Bent over his desk, offering herself for judgment, so open and so clearly aroused by his treatment—

The tongue of the crop goes places Silco won’t let himself touch. Caressing soft flesh, licking that lovely curve of her bottom again…

No. Ten isn’t enough.

“…Add in your failure to complete the tasks I assigned, and a stunning inability to follow simple guidelines for behavior today…” Only a fraction of a second of hesitation before pushing the tress between her legs, pressing flat against the inevitable heat of her cunt. “…and I think we can tot it up to fifteen.” That will have to do.

Her needy little whine kills him. Gods, he didn’t expect it to be this hard to resist. He taps the crop delicately against her sex, and the resulting whimper has him shaking his head. Perfect. So damn responsive, so lost in her own pleasure— and failing so beautifully in her attempts to censor herself. Testing, the next strike is harder, and she bangs fists on the desk, frustration audible in her soft cry, but never steps out of place. Some part wants to reward her for it, but he’s too keen on seeing her lose herself. To break her down.

“Fifteen strokes.” And no time like the present.

Pulling the crop away, Silco lines up his strike. Start low, get harder (—perhaps an inevitability for his own body as much as his strikes, so maybe best to get it over and done with so he needn’t languish).

Each impact is carefully measured, carefully placed to keep things symmetrical, gradually raising intensity. Where is her line? What is her limit, and will she speak up before she hits it, or will he have to be the one to press pause? Each strike without pause has his own blood heating.

Squirming is natural - expected, even - but part of him watches for any signs that she’s overexerting herself. So far no sudden jerks as if to stand, no uncontrollable tremors, no strange stiffness. No word of protest, either.

Until seven.

“Th—”

He lowers his hand immediately. The word was muffled, but it gives him pause. If something hurts - well, if something that shouldn’t hurt hurts - they need to adjust. The current position should make up for her bad arm, but if her back is strained, there’s always the sofa. Even adjusting the punishment altogether. Or just taking a break.

Lips pull into a small frown. Is it simply responsibility that makes him so eager to accommodate her? It has to be. Or perhaps the general eagerness that has Silco’s cheeks flushed and heart racing, keen to continue their encounter.

She squirms, and it doesn’t look pained so much as restless. Though she’s often impatient with herself. If she was in pain, he might expect her to berate herself for it. Her grit is admirable as often as it is pointlessly stubborn. If she wants to say no, she still may stop herself, and that would be a problem.

She offers no explanation in the silence, and he takes a few deep breaths, carefully dialing down his own excitement. Calm. Mind her. This may be her needing to stop, and he has to respect that.

Silence drags. “Speak freely.” No command. No pressure. The guilt of beating a woman who hasn’t truly done wrong would weigh on him. The possibility she’d feel violated in any way makes him immensely uncomfortable. The most efficient method to lose his own arousal; the prospect that she might be dreading a way to tell him no.

“It—” She stumbles over her words, fumbling. “It’s nothing, I— it’s fine, you can— You—” She stifles an embarrassed noise.

If she wants to stop, he needs her to say so. A single instance of her name contains a hefty dose of reprimand without outright threatening. “What were you going to say?” If it was anything close to stop, he needs to know now, before it goes any further.

A choked word is hard to understand at first, though the repetition clears up any confusion. “Thk— thank you.”

Silco’s mind is blank.

That… that’s not a stop.

That is so far from a stop that he can’t even comprehend it at first. That’s a go on. That’s a go further. Go harder.

That’s a more, please.

—

[next part]

AO3 Link

[Happy sinday! Next one, I assume, will be even longer. 😅 We’ll see if it stays one piece, or gets cut into two. Because of length, it may be another week-long wait, but we’ll see. Regardless, a preview will go up either the day before or a few days before, depending when I decide I’ll be posting. Getting into his head on the next one will be interesting 👀

If you somehow got here without knowing anything about A Helping Hand, you can find the masterlist for the fic here, and the whole main fic on AO3. Most of the rest of the reverse POVs are in a series on AO3, and all are on the HH masterlist and my primary masterlist.

Boost the post if you liked it! I’ve been a little worried things aren’t getting as much engagement since my vacation, though that might just be my own paranoia 🥴 I adore all tags and comments, especially, so 👉👈🥺

Next part will be up soonish, but if you want to make sure you don’t miss it, join the tag list by commenting on this linked post. Have fun with the next one, folks. Depending on if it’s combined or not, the first chunk of the next one, at least, is called Desire. So… fun :3 ❤️ -verbs]

Tag list: @hawk4president @mello-jello29 @jennrosefx @dad-dumpster @ellhd-imagination @zuckerwattencupcake @meep-moop-mystic @sherwood-forests @ariaud @witxhy-lexx @mazikomo @leave-me-alone-doctor @antoine-tte @emprixnix @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @leorioaki @artificialwords @hehicular-hanslaughter-lecter @ironandglass @ughhhh177 @faraige @ilikemymendarkandfictional @jennithejester @insult-2-injury @iz-zy5 @rinadragomir @queenofspades6 @cuddlejeongin @differentladynerd @alternativeforensicscientist @leo-the-undead @silcoitus @stepsonsilco @commotionpotion @averagecrastinator @eurydicethesage @mialobo @wierdestmoppet @bumble-bee-17

[hereforhalstead]

Hungry Eyes

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader 18+

• Requested: Yeeeess by my bestie @halsteadlover who always sets the bar so high and provided me with this.

reader's friend that come to visit her and Jay is jealous but nobody knows about their relationship so he can't even say anything about it and then he corners Reader when they r alone and shows her who she belongs to iykyk kwnejekwnsked i know this is a shitty idea but whit ur writing bestie it'd be ✨ chef's kiss ✨’i

• Warnings: swearing/Daddy kink/smut references

• Summary: Jay gets jealous after an old friend turns up at the district to ask you out for lunch and reminds you who you belong to.

• Words: 4218

• A/N :lysm you’re the best but pls don’t come after me if this disappoints hahah Enjoy🤭

***

You woke up with that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you didn’t like, instantly feeling sick with nerves for no explanation. You tried to start your morning as best and to routine as you could to try and push out the thoughts but nothing worked. 

You made your way into the kitchen to grab some ice out of the freezer for your drink, you found yourself gazing out of the window being transfixed on cars going by. You flinched as you felt a squeeze on your sides, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay’s mischievous smile grinning back at you, a sight that would always put your mind to rest but on this day it wasn’t doing the trick. 

He softly pulled on the round neck of your tshirt, exposing your shoulder to which he placed a light kiss to your skin “Everything alright?” he questioned, still stood behind you as you filled your glass. You nodded in response but you both knew this wasn’t enough for him, you span to exit the kitchen but he stood his ground to block your path.

“You wanna trying lying to me again?” he probed, gently outlining the side of you face with his fingers. You pressed your lips into his cheek but he still wouldn’t budge “Jay, I’m fine” you attempted to reassure but he simply gave a light chuckle in response.

 “Baby, you know I call out people who lie for a job. Right?” You lean your head forward onto his chest and huff “Just one of those days” you mumble into his shirt and he tuts “And you couldn’t tell me that because?”.

You look up at him and roll your eyes “Because doofus, now you’ll be watching my every move when you need to be focusing on yourself” You push your finger into his chest as you speak, he flicks his eyes down onto your hand and then back up to your worried expression “We’ll be fine. Always are, I know how to look out for both of us” he leans in to place a chaste kiss to your lips but you still feel that sinking feeling wasn’t going anywhere fast.

 “How do you always know what to do to make me feel better?” you tease, trying your best to ignore the wave of anxiousness overwhelming your body “It’s just as much of my job as it is to be a detective” he proudly replies and you can’t stop the smile creeping on your face “Smooth” you compliment, earning another toothy grin from your boyfriend 

“Come on you, the quicker we get out of here the quicker we get home”. He slings an arm round your shoulder before stopping to pick up the drink you had previously poured yourself as he calmly reassures “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s gonna be fine”

***

As normal, Jay drops you off in his truck a few roads away from the district. You’d both decided it was best to keep your relationship between yourselves for the time being as god knows word spreads fast within Chicago and Voight would be less than impressed to say the least. 

Seeing how he reacted to Kim and Adam served as a warning of how harsh he can be and implement punishments for the smallest of things. He often eyes the pair of you so you have an inclining he’s caught on but as far as you’re aware you’d gotten away with it so far which seemed a miracle. There’d been a few close encounters, you and Jay getting carried away in the evidence room, one acting out when the other is in danger or the most popular one being when either one of you is hit on and you can’t say a word. 

Jay found this the hardest as Voight encouraged you to use your charm and sarcastic character on suspects, often helping to break their barriers and admit things they didn’t know they were admitting. This came at a cost, you openly flirting with another man in the interview room was now a regular occurrence and to Jay’s dismay he was often sat right by your side as you did so. 

Most of the time you had fun with this as it never took much to get Jay jealous, a simple double take at you had him aggravated within seconds so for you to have taken on the role as ‘Intelligence flirt’ did not sit well with him. You’d considered having words with Voight about it, expressing how it made you uncomfortable but as much as sometimes you didn’t like it, it did often lead to success so you had to put your dignity to one side and do the job at hand. 

It was another one of those days where you were called into the interview room as soon as you walked up the stairs, Jay handing you a paper file as he passes your desk. Just like every morning, acting like you hadn’t been in bed together just a few hours earlier or traipsing round his apartment in nothing but his T-shirt.

“He’s just your type” Kim calls out to you, smirk beaming from her face “and how do you know what my type is?” you sarcastically respond, eyebrow cocked in confidence “Believe me, I know what your type is” she is quick to reply, already back focusing on a pile of paperwork sat in front of her. You narrow your eyes at her and then cast your eyes over to Jay who is still enthralled by the thought of you.

“Will you just get in there and do you thing. We need to nail this bastard” Voight’s rough voice echos out, hurrying you to hang your coat up on the way to the interview room “Good luck” Jay announces with an amused tone “I think you’re the one who needs the luck” you hit back. He bores his eyes down to you as he leans forward to open the door with one hand and allowing you to enter the room first. 

The suspect immediately slumps back in his chair as you slam the thick paper file onto the desk “Think you better sit up and pay attention sunshine, I haven’t got all day” you jest, Jay remaining stern in the seat next to you as he’s ready to play good cop bad cop. “Oh I can tell I’m gonna like you already” his eyes roam about your body but Jay is quick to harshly click in front of the mans face to distract him “Eyes up here big man”. 

You conceal your laugher, not even 2 seconds in and Jay’s pissed off “Why don’t you let her do the talking pretty boy” the suspect flirts and you scoff “You’re already looking at 25 years in jail if you don’t start talking so we’ll get started if you don’t mind” you open the file in efforts to break eye contact with the suspect but Jay was still showing a disgruntled stare over the table “I’m all yours”. 

***

Safe to say the interview didn’t get much better, no matter how much you leaned into him, he wasn’t saying a word. Forcing you to try and go above and beyond with the flirting technique but still nothing. You marched back into the office with Jay, him stuck at your side but staying silent when usually there would be some form of sarcastic comment but today there was nothing.

 “How could you say he was my type, are you blind? He was about 50 with half a mouth of teeth and I can’t imagine the last time he showered” you call out to Kim who laughs “My idea of fun” she contests, handing you a cup of coffee “Hilarious” you comment under your breath as she returns to her desk next to you. 

You were still reeling from the interview, annoyed at yourself for not getting him to break so you could charge him with more but by the sounds of it, it wasn’t his first offence so knew how to play the game and also play you. You scanned the pages in front of you, head in your hands as you sat propped with your elbows on the desk “He was just a dick who knows how to work the system, don’t let it get to you” Jay speaks as he leans on the desk next to you. 

You huff and sink into your chair “Surprised you’re talking to me” you joke as Jay shrugs “Gotta do what you gotta do” he calmly admits, complete change of attitude to his normal tense and quiet self after these interviews but you still knew him well enough to know he was bluffing “Now who’s the one lying” you raise your eyebrows at him with a slight smirk across your face.

He leans down to you to speak but you hear Trudy clear her throat from behind him “Y/N, you got someone down here for you” she bitterly announces, you both turn to look at her as she spins to head back down the stairs “Did they give a name, or?” you ask after her but as per usual she was hardly in a mood to converse “Do I look like a receptionist? No” she tuts “Was cute though” you’re taken back as she adds her little comment and disappears back down the stairs. 

“Well, best get myself down to this hottie then” you stand from your seat, ensuring you graze yourself along Jay as you pass “Don’t wanna keep him waiting” you quietly add so only he can hear. 

He keeps his arms folded in front of his chest and watches you intently as you walk off, feeling his eyes burn into your back as you follow Trudy’s path down to the main area. Slight grin as you enjoyed winding Jay up and as much as he didn’t want to admit it he also got a kick out of it. 

Him watching you think you have the dominance in the relationship truly amused him, all while knowing he could have you pinned up against a wall and struggling to find words within seconds frequently crossed his mind as he sat watching you work opposite him. 

**

You got to the bottom of the stairs only to be met by an empty room, you look over to Trudy who is aimlessly scrolling on the computer and walk over to her desk “Where is he then?” you ask but get no response, instead she simply looks over your shoulder to the room next to the main doors. 

She glimpses back over to you before returning to her work “Always so helpful Trudy, what would I do without you” you mock, tapping the desk before turning to see who had asked after you.

You didn’t even have a chance to get yourself together before he was stood in front of you, your best friend from college who you hadn’t seen in years was stood before you and Trudy was right, he was looking just as cute as he did the last time you see him all those years ago. “There she is! The hot shot detective” he exclaims before engulfing you in his arms. 

It took you by surprise so took you a few seconds before you could grasp what was happening “Kyle? What are you doing here?” you pull back, leaving his arm still resting on your hip as he towered over you “My folks moved to Chicago a few weeks ago so thought I would come visit. Then remembered you worked here so made it all the more easier for me to take the trip” he happily admits as you nudge his shoulder “Still the flirt I see” you tilt you head and he nods “Can’t help it when it comes to you”. 

You come to your senses that you’re still stood in the middle of the open space at the district, Trudy without a doubt ogling at you from her desk and silently judging with her scowl and condescending manner. 

You take a quick sweep of the area to see if anyone else is around but it was just the two of you which made the silence even more awkward. As much as you wanted nothing more than to catch up with Kyle, this was hardly the ideal scenario as you could basically hear a pin drop and knew Trudy was listening in on every word. 

You check your watch and note it was nearly 1pm which led you to the perfect excuse of leaving “Wanna grab some lunch?” he questions to which you quickly agree “Let me just grab my stuff and we can go”.

Just as you turn to head back upstairs you hear Trudy call out from behind you “Chuckles, get Y/N’s bags for her will you. She's being whisked off for lunch on a hot date” whilst still facing away you subtly shake your head and huff “I’m gonna kill her” you joke, Kyle awkwardly laughs along with you which doesn’t help with the glare Jay was sending in your direction. 

“Thanks but I can get them myself, thanks though” you grimace to Trudy as you pass her desk “Won’t be long” you call back to Kyle who takes a seat on the chairs “Just text me if you need a moment before we go!” Jay shoots him a lingering glare, you nudge his shoulder to pull him from his trance with the aggravated scorn to Kyle.

 You place your hand onto the scanner and feel Jay breathing down your neck from how close he is stood behind you “So you’ve got a hot date?” he whispers, so quiet that you’re sure no one else heard “Don’t start” you warn as the door buzzes and loosens to allow you to open it.

“Don’t know what you mean” Jay innocently responds, still hot on your trail as you make your way up “Jay, your jealousy is showing” you tease with a hint of smugness in your voice “I don’t get jealous baby” he takes you off guard with the pet name but you try your best to act unfazed “A lot of lying going on today, isn’t there?”. 

You make your way over to your desk and rummage around in the drawers looking for the purse your usually leave in there with a few bank cards and loose change. “Who’s the hunk then Y/N?” Hailey asks from her desk on the other side of the room “It’s her boyfriend” Jay answers before you even have a chance to respond. You continue looking through your desk, rolling your eyes at his comment but grateful no one can see as you look down.

“He’s a friend from college” you correct him, shooting him a glare to which he sneers. “And he’s taking you to lunch? Lucky you” Kim adds, earning a less than impressed glance from Adam “I’m right here you know” he mocks and you laugh to yourself of the irony of Adam getting jealous when you knew Jay was sat there reeling and no one knew. 

“Wait, isn’t Kyle the one who-?” Kim starts but you widen your eyes her to give her the message to stop “The one who?” Kevin probes, aware that now everyone was in on this would only add to Jay’s annoyance “He wa-” Hailey speaks up “Uh” you interrupt, admiring the joy she had flashed across her face. Adam pats Kevin on the shoulder as he passes “Girl code bro, we’ll never find out”. 

“I didn’t know I was running a gossip circle? Back to it” Voight demands from the doorframe of his office. The team turn back to their work as you give up looking for your purse and decide to head to the lockers to see if you left it in there earlier in the week. 

Once in the hall, alone you run your fingertips over the creases in your forehead. Partly in trying to remember where you last had your purse but also wishing Kyle hadn’t come to the district or atleast gave you some forewarning that we was in town. 

That soon explains the reason for your gut feeling this morning that something wasn’t going to go right, although you were slightly relieved as it wasn’t half as bad as you expected when you first woke up and felt the anxiety swirling in your stomach but still wasn’t ideal. 

You leant your head against your locker before taking a deep breath, anyone would think you were being overdramatic but with the interview the morning where you had truly pushed yourself with the flirting already leaving Jay on the back foot this was not what you had in mind for the rest of the day. 

Normally, a quiet afternoon with the odd doting look and occasional private moment between the pair of you had you back in his good books but that was clearly out of the window and now with this he was just feeling worse. 

You searched in your locker but still no sign, you pulled out your phone to text Kyle and was shocked you still had his number after all these years. You clicked away on your phone before a presence in front of you makes you flinch. 

You look up to see Jay leaning with one arm on the locker and the other holding your purse “You can text your boyfriend to say your other boyfriend found your purse” he dangles the purse in front of you but snatches it back when you go to grab it “Jay, leave it alone” you taunt but he simply drops your purse on the bench behind you with a swift motion and turns to head out. 

Slightly shocked you don’t get more of a reaction out of him leaves you wanting more, a twisted affect he had on you when he left you craving him if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“You don’t want me to introduce the pair of you then?” you call out, causing him to stop in his tracks on route to the door. You heart instantly picks up as you know you’ve got him “Do what you want” he spits out, still with his back to you. You make your way over to him and run your fingertip up and down his spine, causing him to shiver under your touch.

 “Someone in a mood?” you innocently ask, knowing full well what you’re letting yourself in for but using it as more motivation to keep going. He hangs his head in laughter and takes a moment before he inhales through his flared nostrils, even facing away from you you can see the bitter look on his face as he bites the inside of his lip in frustration. 

“Why don’t you just go and have a nice little lunch with your boyfriend and we’ll speak about this at home later” his calmness still confuses you and didn’t satisfy your craving and as much as you knew you shouldn’t provoke him you can’t help but continue to do so.

“You don’t Atleast want to know who he is? You could be letting me go to lunch with a murderer for all you know” you joke but he is not amused, not in the slightest. He deeply huffs which, to his frustration you know is a good sign you were getting what you wanted “No Y/N. I don’t want to know who the fuck he is” he finally bursts, turning in his spot and now staring down on you.

“I don’t give a shit who he is, I don’t give a shit what you’ve done together” the way his chest rises and falls in his passion truly awakes something within you and you no longer care how quick you feel overpowered by him.

“That’s not very kind” you respond, innocent tone paired with your eyelashes fluttering as you look up at Jay’s rage filled face.

“Kind? I don’t care about kind when it comes to other men flirting with my girl, baby” he starts taking steps towards you, forcing you to walk back under his demand. 

Your back soon hits the bank of lockers with a thud, his eyes filled his hunger as he rests his arm to the side of your head and leans into you “He was only my first fuck, no big deal” you mumble but his spiteful chuckle tells you he heard it loud and clear, slightly regretting your honesty when you’re truly under his thumb and not getting out of his hold anytime soon.

“Say that again” he taunts, hand gripped onto your waist and getting tighter with each heavy breath. You don’t say a word as you know nothing will help what you’ve just said, he leaves it a moment before he continues. 

“No?” He questions as you remain standing in silence, you shake your head to see the exasperation flashing across his face. “Why did you even tell me that?” He further asks and in all honesty you begin to question that yourself, you just knew it would be the worst thing you could admit and therefore it had to be done.

“Oh, I know why” he drops his head as he smiles to himself, hand running along his jawline as a smug smile makes its way onto his face. Not a second later his attention is back on you with the hunger in his eyes that you now desperately longed for.

“You want me to remind the name that I know you’re wishing you could moan right now” he teases as he pushes himself onto you further “straight up against these lockers, with my hand over your mouth to quieten them desperate pleas”. His eyes search your face for any form of resistance as he darts his knee inbetween your legs to separate them “Tell me I’m wrong baby?”.

You feel your body melt under his slightest touch, his words making you crumble into his grasp on you. With your mind no longer on Kyle or the fact you were at your place of work with the chance of getting caught at any moment “Your team just on the other side of that wall not having a single clue what’s going on”. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, his lips finding their way to your collarbone and lightly nipping at the skin.

“My girl wants me to fuck her so hard that she can’t even walk out of this room without me helping her” he proceeds to run his lips along your jawline, leaving lingering kisses as he goes “Not so mouthy now, hm?” He grasps at your hip to straighten you from your slumped position, feeling your legs turn to jelly as you yearn for his dominant touch “Use your words, baby”.

He catches you off guard with a deep and hungry kiss as his lips crash into yours, using his hand on the small of your back to steady you as you stumble from the sudden harshness. As you leaned into his desires, you wanted to use the tiniest bit of power you have left to well and truly push him over the edge. Something you knew that would have you playing this moment over in your head for weeks on end, him falling at your mercy and pushing him over the edge “Yes daddy”.

His eyes widen, something he had only heard you say a few times in the past but only after being encouraged at the height of passion and never on your own accord. The fingers digging into your hips told you all you needed to know, whether he liked to admit it, you’d won this hands down.

You run your to tongue over your bottom lip, now slightly swollen from the rough contact. His eyes follow your movement, the darkness in his eyes turning more intense as every second went by “oh baby” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to lift you up and secure yourself to him with your legs wrapped round him and your back pushed up against the lockers “you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for”.

****

Inbox and requests always open👀 am working through my current requests and one will be up in a few days💃🏼

[sorryjustafangirl]

what home is

a/n: this is my submission for @antoineroussel 's summer fic exchange 2k21! thank you for organizing this all demi. i recieved @timstuetzle and i am so excited to finally share this! im sorry it's so late but i had a lot of fun writing for Tim and i hope i did him justice! i made this a gender neutral reader again, so please enjoy my take on some friends to enemies to lovers :)

pairing: tim stützle x reader

word count: 18k+ (holey moley)

warnings: some angst, set in no covid-universe, a few swears, an odd timeline

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! the banner is made by me, with photos found from pinterest and the transparent made by @art-and-the-hockeys (thank you!!!)

The start of the season was your favourite. The chill of the rink, the sound of skate edges on the ice, the smell of skate sharpening- it was all so familiar. As an analyst, the start was the best. There were new lineups, new plays, and a chance to try new things. Considering this was your first year as a real analyst, not just checking over others' work, you were excited. You got to actually help to build a Stanley Cup winning team.

What you didn’t love was how everyone seemed to lose their heads and decide to run around the arena. You’d been looking for the coach of the Ottawa Senators for the past twenty minutes. You’d think the man would be in his office the first day back, but no. He decides to take a stroll to who-knows-where and leaves you to follow invisible breadcrumbs.

Eventually, you found yourself on one of the lower levels. You continued down the hallway, entering an open space with concrete floors. The bustle of the new season was in full swing as you swerved between various people working like gears in a machine. You tried to do your best to stay out of other people’s way but you still ended up walking into a hard surface.

“Oof!” Shit. Hard surfaces don’t usually talk. You looked up at what you ran into and saw two men staring at you. Both were wearing Senators hoodies but one was a taller blond and the other a slightly shorter brunet. The brunet has a backwards snapback on but that wasn't what made you stop in your tracks. It was his eyes. They were soft and welcoming, something like a home cooked meal, but they had a glint of adventure in them.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I wasn’t really looking where I was going. I am so sorry.” You apologized to the blond you ran into.

“Hey, all good. I’m-”

“Number 7.” You turned toward the brunet. “And...number 18, right?” When they both gave you a weird look, you shrugged. “I’m an analyst here so, uh, you’re just numbers to me.”

“Okay, ouch but you are the reason we’re going to be winning more games this season, so I'll give it to you. I’m Brady, and this is Jimmy.” The blond gestured to himself first, before gesturing beside him.

“It’s Tim, actually.”

You introduced yourself to the two players, before looking around the hallways. “Um, would either of you happen to know where the coach is? I can’t find him,” You held up the file folders in your hands. “I’ve got new numbers for him.”

“Oh yeah he’s probably close to the ice, we’ll show you.” Brady started down a hallway, both you and Tim falling in stride behind him. “So Numbers-”

“-Y/n-” You glared at Brady for the nickname, rolling your eyes as he continued on. From your peripheral vision, you saw the corners of Tim's mouth turn up.

“-If you don’t mind me saying….either you look really good for your age, or you aren’t old enough to be working here,” He continued, giving a glance your way.

You looked down at your shoes and gave a sigh. “I get that a lot, and I am young-er than my colleagues but I assure you, I am qualified to work for this organization.”

“Wasn’t doubting that, just seeing how much I get to tease ya. Jimmy’s the rookie,” He elbowed him and Tim tried to swerve around it, only to bump into a stack of pylons. Brady and you shared a grin at his expense. “So he gets all the teasing. Same for the numbers people. You’re the rookie.” He shrugged

“Well, I’m not actually a rookie anymore. This is my second year here,” You mentioned, looking towards the two guys. Brady looked impressed whereas Tim’s eyes went large and his jaw slack a little.

“How?” He asked, and you laughed. The three of you turned a corner, and you walked slightly faster to talk.

“I graduated high school pretty early. And then took my statistics undergrad at the University of Ottawa. I minored in sports studies and I met your GM at a conference for the department. When he found out I was in Ottawa alone, he kinda took me under his wing, checked in every now and again. When I graduated two years ago, he offered me an analyst position and I was lucky enough to land it. I love working here, even if I’m way younger than everyone else. Last year, I stayed in my office a lot, double checking people’s work but this year, they gave me more responsibility. I’m excited for the challenge.”

“You are going to be great.” Tim said, meeting your eyes, his gaze showing that his comment was genuine. You ducked away from his gaze but muttered a ‘thanks’. The three of you rounded another corner, Brady ducking out to talk to a reporter, but Tim said he’d help you find the coach.

You settled into a comfortable silence as you walked beside each other through the chilled hallways. He abruptly took a left turn, cutting you off and causing you to bump into him. You immediately apologized, this being the second time today you’d run into a hockey player.

“‘S my fault, I’m still getting used to the new arena,” He said, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. He nodded his head down the hallway, as a silent ‘after you’ and you started walking. As you got further down, you realized Tim walked you out to the bench. The light became brighter, the air a little crisper, and the floor turned from a concrete grey to a bright red. Your eyes wandered up, admiring the view from down here. You’d be truthful earlier, you’d only ever visited your office. But from down here, you could see everything- the thousands of seats, the banners hanging from the ceiling, the crystal white ice. You stood close to the wall, as if to try to intimidate a fly on a wall, seeing everything as if you weren’t there. You could feel Tim could up from behind you, letting you take it all in for the first time.

“That’s Coach,” He leaned closer to you as he pointed across the ice towards someone in a tracksuit. You nodded and although Tim dropped his hand, he stayed close to you. The coach eventually noticed the two of you and started to skate over to the bench. Tim cleared his throat and you looked at him.

“I got to- I have to go now, but, um, I’ll see you around?” You nodded to his question, a soft smile on your lips. He rocked back and forth on his heels, as if he knew he had to leave but he kept getting pulled towards you. “Good luck with the season.”

“Good luck with yours too.” At that he turned away from you, and you turned to the coach, pulling out your file folder to talk with him.

***

A week or two later and the start of the season was upon the Canadian Tire Centre. The home opener was in a few days and your week had been hectic, trying to get notes from practices and implement what you saw into your analysis. After a morning full of spreadsheets, you decided to take your lunch break in your sanctuary. Last year, the arena felt too big to stick around in on your lunch break. So you had headed outside, where you discovered a small hiking trail about a ten minute drive from work. It quickly became a place where you went whenever you needed to clear your head. And after the morning you had, it was the perfect place to go, so you hopped in your car and started towards it.

At the top of the hill, you put the car in park, grabbed your lunch bag and started towards your spot. It was past the picnic tables that had a nice view of the suburbs, but it wasn't secluded. Your spot was off the beaten path, but there was a small ledge with a perfect view of the arena, highway, and surrounding green spaces. You turn the corner, ducking under a tree branch, ready to exhale the heck of the morning you had.

But there was already someone sitting in your spot. Their head was down, but you recognized the logo and number 18 on their hoodie. Cautiously, you approached him.

“18...Is it okay if I sit here?” You asked, and his head shot up. He shot you a small smile and quick nod. You sat down, placing your bag in front of you, taking out a granola bar.

“You can call me Tim, you know. That is my name,” You gave him a shy smile and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his comment.

“I didn’t think anyone knew about this place, Tim,” You mentioned quietly. It felt weird, to be honest, to be sharing your spot with someone, but it didn’t feel like he was intruding.

“My city in Germany has a lot of parks. There’s a forest near my house where I’d go when I needed a break. This is the closest I could find near the rink. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Just don’t go telling the whole team about our place,” you winked at him and took a bite of your snack.

“I can keep a secret, don’t worry.” He laughed lightly and sent you a smile.

“I don’t know if you remember me but-”

“You’re the analyst, you graduated super early right? Y/n, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” You smiled at him. “So, how are you liking Ottawa?”

“It’s alright, I haven’t seen very much of it. The ice is very good. My house is nice.” He shrugged and you gaped at him.

“That’s all you’ve seen? So you haven’t been to Parliament Hill or ByWard market or…?” you trailed off when you saw him biting his bottom lip and slowly shaking his head. “Well, you are missing out, you should go see the city sometime.”

“Do you think you could show me around? You seem to know all the best places,” He offered. You met his eyes and nodded. He dug his phone out of his pocket, passing it over to you. You raised your eyebrows at the gesture but he just pushed his phone closer to you. Silently, you imputed your number, placing a small graph emoji beside your contact name. You handed it back to him and a small smirk graced his face when he saw the emoji, before he pursed his lips at the device. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Sorry, it’s all good. Thank you. It’s- I have to go back now, but I’ll text you, yeah?” You nodded as he handed back your phone. He walked towards the parking lot, but turned around to wave at you before he disappeared around the bend.

Later that day as you sat in the stands, a clipboard and pen in your hands, you got a text from an unknown number.

Hi

It's 18 :)

You chuckled at his use of his number and texted him back.

i thought you said i could call you tim? :(

also it’s practice?? how are you on your phone?

It starts in a couple minutes

your teammates are already on the ice

Spying on me already??

it’s literally my job to watch you practice

Guess I'll see you in the stands then :)

Oh and I'm free this weekend for that showing of the city, team bonding’s on friday

i’ll check my schedule and get back to you

now get out on the ice or you’re going to be late :)

***

You had checked your schedule, and agreed to meet that Saturday. You said you’d pick him up since you knew more of the city. You didn't want to be late so you arrived five minutes early in front of Tim's place. He walked out in his signature backwards snapback, some curls poking out the front, and a monochromatic beige outfit. Waving animatedly at you, he jogged to the car, his ever present smile on his face.

The twenty minutes ride into the city was quiet yet comfortable. A few words were exchanged about how each other’s day was so far but nothing groundbreaking. The low hum of the engine filled the silence as you drove into the city.

After parking in a Superstore (‘Free parking in downtown Ottawa is hard to come by, Tim. We’re parking in the grocery store parking lot’) and walking a few blocks, you come to the far end of the market. Lined with local businesses and brick streets, it felt homey. Tim smiled as it reminded him of back home.

“So, what are we going to see first? Your school?” He asked as the two of you walked along the streets. You laughed and shook your head.

“Pfft no. It isn’t all that interesting. I figured we’d see some of my favourite places, if that’s okay?” He assured you it was and the two of you continued through the streets, Tim with his head down as you passed people. He wasn't famous just yet, but in Canada you find hockey fans at every corner. Soon, you arrived in a small plaza with coloured picnic tables and muskoka chairs.

“Ta-da!” You gestured to the large block letters that spelled ‘Ottawa’ in the middle of the space. “It’s not much, but you’ve got to be a tourist in your own city at least once right?” He laughed along with you and you got out your phone, ready to take a picture of him so he could send it to his parents. You thought he would want a picture of him but he was quick to insist you had to be in the picture as well.

“I’m sorry, but would you mind taking a picture of us?” You asked one of the girls who were taking turns with the Ottawa sign.

“Oh sure!” You stood beside him, between the two ‘T’s in Ottawa, his arm slung over your shoulders. You smiled and looked up at Tim to see him smiling as well- and not one of those classic boy coy half smiles, a genuine one. She took a few landscape and a few portrait ones before handing your phone back. “You two are such a cute couple!”

Before you could correct the girl, Tim answered for you. “We’re just friends actually.” She apologized profusely before rejoining her group. You shuffled your feet as an awkward silence overcame you for the first time since you’d met. Your body shivered and you promptly changed the subject.

“Hey, you hungry?” He shrugged and nodded. You nodded and led him away from the sign, through a few back alleys lined with a few merchants, home artists and such. You entered a building, bustling with people. It was long and narrow, with brick flooring and merchants on either side of the middle. There were lots of people, ranging from people doing their weekly grocery shopping to tourists looking for souvenirs. You weaved between strollers and friend groups, Tim grabbing your hand to avoid getting lost. He kept his head low, hoping it would disguise him enough. This day was about you and him, not you, him and the hockey world. Eventually, the two of you exited the indoor market and came to a small opening. Instead of staying in the opening, you turned left, tugging Tim across the street to two small shacks, one red and one blue. The red one had a classic fairytale vibe to it, with beige wainscotting, red painted window frames, and topped with a white and light brown canopy over the window. Underneath the canopy, there was a string of small Canadian flags.

“Do you trust me?” He arched one of his eyebrows but nodded. “I’ll be right back.” Confused, Tim stood there as you walked up the window, spending no time looking at the menu as you ordered. He looked above the shack to see in fancy lettering the word BeaverTails. When you came back, you were holding two paper containers and had a smile on your face. He looked at the sign and then back to the bags in your hands.

“A beaver’s… tail?” You laughed at him and handed him his BeaverTail.

“It’s not actually a beaver’s tail. It’s just a fried pastry that looks like one. They come in lots of flavours but I got you the best one, cinnamon sugar.” You could tell he was hesitant but bit into his and you took a bite of your own.

Almost instantly, he groaned. “Do you take every guy here? Wow. Oh my god,” He got cinnamon smeared over his chin and you laughed as he tried to wipe it off while holding his pastry.

“Hilarious Tim, but I’ll have you know you’re like my only friend here. So… no I don’t take anyone here.” He scoffed and you raised your eyebrows.

“You’re joking. How do you not have other friends? You’re great,”

“I started university as a 16 year math major. It’s not a surprise people didn’t want to talk to me. But it’s okay. I’m used to it by now.”

“Don’t you have people from home come and visit?”

You scoffed. “I don’t really get along with my mum. We moved around a lot when I was younger and I always sorta resented her for not seeing how it affected me. And then, when I got accepted to school out here, she sold the house and started travelling. Last I talked to her, she was in Tahiti.” He raised his eyebrows.

“What about your dad? Or brothers or sisters?” You swallowed your piece of BeaverTail before answering him.

“I have an older sister, Dani. But she’s eight years older than me, so we're not the closest. She checks in every week or so because she knows my mum doesn't. She’s never come out to visit though, she runs her own business back in Seattle.”

“It must be nice to have someone though. Especially when you were growing up. What about your dad?”

“I don’t- I don’t talk about my dad.” You picked at the pastry before changing the topic. “C’mon, you have to see this place.” You gestured to a side street and the two of you made your way towards your favourite destination. You exited beside a taller building and you pressed the button to allow the two of you to cross the street. As you were waiting for the light to turn, you turned to Tim.

“So, I’m guessing you don’t have any siblings then?”

“No, but the guys at the rink were like my brothers so it wasn’t bad.” The light turned red, and the ‘walk’ light turned on. You made your way across, staying close to each other as people walked both ways.

“Hockey tends to do that,”

“Is that why you picked to work in hockey?”

You glared at him as you made it across the street. “That’s personal.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends share personal stuff.”

“That’s… it’s just different.” You shook your head and lowered the volume of your voice. “Besides, we’re here.” The two of you had stopped in front of some shallow steps that led to a tall archway, with black statues underneath and on top of the arch. It had some engravings on it, both small and large letters. From where they were standing, Tim could make out some numbers, but not well enough to understand the significance. Behind the monument and slightly to the right was the green tipped roof and gothic architecture of the Parliament building.

“What is this place?” He tilted his head as he looked at the arch in the middle of the square. To him, it wasn’t anything special, perhaps another statue of one of the colonizers of the country.

“It’s Canada’s war memorial.” You whispered, and he nodded, clasping his hands in front of his body and lowering his head. “When I was going to school, I’d come here at least once a week.”

His head stayed where it was but he raised his eyes to meet yours. “Why?”

“I know it’s not exactly everyone’s favourite place...because I know so many people died for the country, but for me, it’s a place of silence. Of reflection. It reminds me to be grateful for everything I have. Some days school would be really bad, so this place was perfect to sit and remember that life isn’t bad at all. Not when I was in a safe country, not when I had an education, not when I had a warm house to go back to.”

He nodded. “That seems...perfect. Some days are too loud, there’s too many people saying stuff. I get that.” His voice was quiet as well, as he lifted his head to focus on the stonework and engravings. The two of you stood in silence in front of the memorial for a few minutes more before you tugged on his arm.

“See that building?” You leaned in close to him, your finger extending to point at a building in the distance, a little taller than the ones around it. “That’s the university’s mathematics and physics department. I had most of my classes in that building.” He nodded, leaning in closer to you, your heads almost touching. You lowered your hand and nodded with your head towards the way you came.

“C’mon, we’re not done yet. You’ve got to see the Parliament building.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed left towards it. You quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him right. “I’m the tour guide, remember? Trust me, there’s a better view.” You dropped his hand as he started to walk in time with you but you had to shove it in your pocket to replace the heat his hands gave you.

A quick ten minutes walk later and you stood atop a hill overlooking the river. It was a large park with benches and an eccentric art installation in the corner. You walked close to the peak of the hill and stopped, breathing in the fresh air.

“There is Canada’s capital building. It’s nicer to see it from here than from the front where there’s a bunch of tourists. Besides, from here, you get to see more of the architecture.” The building was across the river, its massiveness more pronounced from your viewpoint. There was a dome nearest the river that was covered in flying buttresses, each support beam having intricate details that stood out. The clock tower and green tinted roof completed the gothic look.

“This view is better. Quieter. It reminds me more of home,” You bump your shoulder against his lightly.

“Glad you like it.” The two of you stood in silence until Tim shivered, at which case you decided you should start heading back. If the hockey player was cold, it was cold enough for you too.

The walk and drive back was uneventful, aside from the two of you passing jokes back and forth. When it came to drop him off, he unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t make an effort to leave the vehicle.

“How much for our snack? I’ll pay you back,”

You waved him off. “It was my treat, don’t worry about it.” He pursed his lips, then shook it. He pulled out his phone from his pocket. A few seconds later, your phone dinged. You glared at him as you opened the text to see an e-transfer. Before you could protest, he cut you off.

“You never said I couldn’t pay for your gas," He laughed, and despite your annoyance at the loophole, you found yourself laughing along with him. He had that effect on you; he seemed to be able to ease any tension you held. “I had a good time today. Maybe we could meet again sometime?”

“I’d like that. I’ll see you at the rink?” He nodded before getting out of your car, waving like he did that morning as you drove off to your place. When you arrived home, you saw a new text from him.

Can you send those pictures you took today?

You tried to suppress a smile, sending them over to which he responded with a ‘Thank youuuu’. You set your phone on your nightstand and turned off the light. Despite your efforts, you fell asleep with a smile on your face from a perfect day with a great person.

***

“Hey, Numbers!” You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see Brady sticking his head out of the dressing room. He had taken a liking to calling you that, especially as you had started hanging around the house more. It was nice, movie nights and sometimes you’d take a pre-game nap with Tim, you had even stayed for lunch at Tim’s request. At this point, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Brady to shout the nickname from anywhere. Practice had ended and you had given your notes to the coach about what to focus on for the Toronto game. “You didn’t happen to see Jimmy, did you?” When you shook your head, his face scrunched into a small frown.

“Where’d he go? Didn’t media like just end?”

He shrugged. “He didn’t even bother to change from media, he just stalked out. He didn’t say anything to any of the guys, so I thought you might’ve seen him.”

“I’ll keep a lookout for him,” You told Brady before he returned to finish dressing and you returned to your office. But even after you’d settled back into your work, there was a feeling in your stomach you couldn’t quite place. Sending a quick text off to Tim, asking where he was, you dove back into work. But it only took five minutes before you were checking your phone, seeing if he’d read the text or responded. When neither happened, you gave him a call. It sent you straight to voicemail and you hung up before you could leave a message. The feeling in your stomach grew and you packed up your bag, knowing no more work would get done tonight. It wasn’t like Tim to sulk or get in his head; he was a generally happy guy. Something must have set him off for him to be acting this way -- even with you. And if it was something this big, there was only one spot he would’ve gone.

“Brady said you stalked out of media. Figured I’d find you here.” He turned around at the sound of your voice, his shoulders dropping a little. He shrugged, which you took as your cue to take a seat beside him at your lookout space. The sun was setting, the golden hour light reflecting on his stress lines, and the sky was littered with wispy clouds.

Your hands were in the pockets of your hoodie, your legs tucked together. Despite being here for close to six years, the Canadian chill always surprised you. You sat with your shoulder pressed to his, a silent symbol of you being there for him. With his head down, he mumbled something too quiet for you to hear, so you leaned your head down to hear him better. At your movement, he huffed and lifted his head.

“I’m supposed… They wanted me to come and make a difference and to help win games. But I’m not helping! I’m supposed to be putting up points and helping win games, but we’re still losing! Like, why do I suck?”

Your chest got tight at his words. “Tim…”

“You can’t deny it, the numbers say we’re losing.”

“Losing doesn’t mean you aren’t producing. This is your first year in the NHL, you wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think you were worth it. Hockey is a team sport, it isn’t just your job to win the game.”

“But they wouldn’t have gotten me right out of the World Juniors if they didn’t need me to start making an impact right away! They were counting on me. And I’m not living up to it….”

“You are nineteen years old. Nineteen. The five other rookies ahead of you in points are all at least two years older than you. Let that sink in. You have so many years ahead of you. And secondly, no one here is expecting you to turn this team around. McDavid’s first year he didn’t turn the team around. And sure, yeah, the next year, the Oilers had more success but guess what? They missed the playoffs the next three years. Hockey is a team sport, one person, not even McDavid, can completely turn a team around. No one is expecting you to turn this team around in one season. This isn’t on you.”

“But the numbers…”

“Are you going to trust the analyst on the numbers or the assholes on Twitter?” He glared at you but let you continue on. “If you really want to talk numbers, we aren’t last in the league anymore. We’ve beat the top team in the division a couple times now. You’re putting up points, you’re helping us win. Cut yourself some slack. You’re nineteen and living in a new country. This team isn’t expecting you to be Ottawa’s saviour, okay?”

“There’s pressure to be better though! Everywhere I go, I just see how I should be doing more, how if I don’t produce more, I’m going to be a draft bust. I’m the young guy, I’m supposed to be the new blood and be able to make a difference. I feel like I’m letting everyone down.” His words lingered in the sunset glow, a contrast to the darkness he was feeling. You fell silent at his outburst, the air feeling too quiet, even with his heavy breathing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

You ignored his apology, knowing he would never intentionally hurt you. “I graduated with a 3.8 GPA. I didn’t have enough job experience but my grades were one of the only reasons I was able to get hired so young. My first year, all I did was double check other people’s stats and predictions, and it was okay. No one expected much out of me because I was young and they didn’t really give me any responsibilities. But this year… they’re looking to me more. Teams with more than two analysts are more likely to produce teams that make the playoffs. I’m number three; I should be helping make a better team. But I’m not. I’m not getting the numbers we need or the stats we need. I know more updated methods and technologies but...it’s just not working. I’m not finding solutions to problems that this team has had for years. And the board and my colleagues see that. I know I shouldn’t worry about them firing me, but I still do. I mean, I’m not producing, why would they keep me around? This wasn’t what they wanted when they gave me the job.”

“They won’t fire you, you’re doing your best. And you’re young, you graduated early. They have to give you a chance to prove yourself in the workplace before they fire you.”

“You wanna take your own advice?” He flushed at your words, but you smiled. “Thanks, though.” He nodded and looked out over the suburbs surrounding the arena.

“The pressure in this league sucks.” He said and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. It does. But we’ll get through it right?”

“We’ll figure something out. Together.” He placed his hand on your thigh and the two of you looked out at the sunset, his touch lingering on your body until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Silently, he helped you to your feet, and walked you to your car, making sure you got in okay, before he got into his car. On the drive home, your chest felt lighter from the conversation.

***

The final buzzer rang, signalling a 4-2 win for the Senators. You smiled at the scoreboard and gathered your papers. The game was nothing spectacular, but for you, it was a career defining game. Some of the lines you'd suggested were risky, but you had the numbers to back it up, and it worked. It worked. The conversation with Tim earlier last week helped with your confidence to take risks in terms of your analytic advice.

You went back to your office after the game, wanting to type up a report of how you impacted tonight's outcome. If it worked this time, who's to say it couldn't work again? But in a higher stakes game? You felt like you were finally contributing to the team, and damn, it felt good.

Your office was barely even that. It was small, but you had a desk, a window, and your name on the door. It was enough for your first major gig. You'd made it a little homey-er with a small succulent and some motivational quotes. You opened up your laptop and began to type up a document report. The words flowed from your fingers and you used the numbers you counted from the box to back up your findings. Time seemed to stand still as you typed, the document becoming longer and longer.

A knock broke your train of thought and you looked up to see Tim poking his head through your office door. He had a shy smile on your face and you shook the writing haze out of your eyes.

"Hey! Come on in," He nodded, closing the door behind him before leaning against the wall. "You played a good game." His cheeks flushed and he lifted his hat, running his fingers through his hair.

"Thanks, thank you. Anyway, did you eat yet?"

"I mean, I had an iced coffee before the game and a granola bar during the second period. So yeah?" Immediately he started shaking his head and he pushed himself away from the wall. You open your hands as if to say 'what’?" and he outstretched his hand to you.

"Coffee and a granola bar isn't a meal. Let's go get some real food, I'm hungry." He made a grabby hand with his outstretched hand and you sighed.

"I have to finish my report, I can't." He sighed, pushed your laptop shut, and grabbed your hand.

"That can wait. Besides, the boys went out and I need a ride home." He flashed you a shy smile and you rolled your eyes, before picking up your bag and leaving your office with him. You tried not to notice how Tim was still holding onto your hand, but as he tugged you along to a quiet area of the concourse, it was difficult to do. He stopped at a small table with two bar stools. He let go of your hand, cold enveloping you, and you hung your bag on the back of the chair. As you hopped onto the chair, he stayed standing, tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

“What do you want to eat?" When you shook your head again, he pulled out his puppy dog eyes. "Tim, seriously, I'm fine."

"I'm getting some fries and you will eat some of them. Deal?" Your face pulled into a frown and he repeated himself. "Deal?"

"Yes, Mom, deal."

He gave himself a self assured smile. "Great. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later he came back with a container of fries and two small containers. He set them down in front of you before he got seated. A closer look at the container showed one was ketchup and the other was…

"Is this mayo?" He picked up a fry, dipped it in the white substance, and popped it into his mouth. With his mouth full, he nodded. "You eat your fries with mayonnaise?"

"You don't?"

"No!" You shook your head. He took another fry, dipped it again, and ate it.

"You have to try it, it's good!"

“No, no thank you. You can keep your weird German eating habits to yourself." You laughed, dipping a fry in ketchup before eating it.

"Nope, you've got to try one. Please?" You scrunched up your nose, and he held out a white coated french fry. You gave in, taking it from his hands and shoving it in your mouth. You chewed it slowly, contemplating the taste.

"It's...not horrible." He raised his eyebrows at you. "Fine, it's alright." He gave you another look, a small smile forming on his face despite his efforts to hide it. "Okay, okay, I like it. Happy?" He let out a loud laugh.

"Yes! I knew you'd like it!" You laughed a little with him, before dipping another fry in the mayo and popped it in your mouth. The two of you ate in silence, the sounds of the zamboni in the background.

"Why didn't you go out with the guys? You had a good game,"

He shrugged. "I wanted something quieter. Besides, I was hungry and the guys wanted to go out to a bar. Bar food isn't exactly a meal."

"Neither is french fries,"

"Well, maybe, you're just better company than the guys."

"Damn right, I am." You smiled, tapped his fry with yours in a makeshift sort of 'cheers' way. When the two of you had finished your snack, you picked up the container and threw it in the compost bin near the table. You grabbed your bag off the chair, holding up your car keys. He got up off the table, joining you in a slow walk towards the parking lot.

You wished the custodians a good night as the two of you left the arena, the street lights in the parking lot illuminating the way to your car. Silently, you unlocked the car and you both got in. You gave him your phone, telling him to pick any playlist he wanted while you started the car. He picked one of your favourite playlists, a mix of relaxing beats and soft music, which was perfect for late night drives.

"You should have some lo-fi on here, it's a lot like this. I think you'd like it," he said, after you had merged onto the highway.

"Yeah?" He only nodded, allowing a comfortable silence to come back to the car. The rest of the drive was easy, the road being mostly empty and the music filling the car. He gave you quiet directions to the house, more points and here's than actual directions but you were able to find it.

"Thank you for the ride," He said, once you’d put the car in park.

"Thanks for sharing your food with me,” He shook his head and smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I’ll always share with you.” You caught his gaze, his brown eyes filled with sincerity. You could feel your cheeks flush and you waved him out of your car.

“I gotta get home too, you know.” You joked and he got out, popping his head back into the doorway for a second.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?” You murmured an ‘of course’ and he nodded, closing the car door and making his way to his front door. You waited until he entered the house before you drove away, turning on a lo-fi playlist from Spotify.

***

“Your turn to pick the movie, but no subtitles please, I’m too lazy to read today.” You handed Tim the remote for his TV while you pulled the blanket closer to your chin. The October chill had settled in his apartment and you hadn’t dressed for his room to feel like the arena.

“Jimmy!” Someone called from the kitchen and a loud clang dissolved any annoyance Tim had from his roommate interrupting his time with you. He rushed to the kitchen and you followed behind shyly. There were platters across the kitchen island, each with a different coloured dish. It looked like there was a salad, a couple casserole dishes, and some plates of desserts. A taller brunette was standing in the kitchen, frantically gesturing between Tim and a pot on the stove. There was a lid on the ground, a splatter of pinkish red liquid surrounding it. You entered the kitchen, picked up the lid before placing it in the sink. The other guy was still explaining to Tim what exactly he wanted to do, even though his head was tilted like a confused puppy. You brushing him aside llightly, grabbing the spoon Tim was holding to stir the pinkish red liquid on the stove. You sent him a small smile back over your shoulder and all you could see in his eyes was relief.

“Thank you!” The oven beeped and you noticed an embroidered #9 on the roommate's Senator sweats. You moved to the side to allow him to get another baking dish from the oven. He placed it on the stovetop and took off his oven mitts. “Thank you for doing that. I didn’t think he’d be that helpless in the kitchen.”

“I’m surprised anyone in this house can actually cook,” You laughed. The liquid that smelled of oranges and cranberries started to boil, so you reduced the heat and continued to stir it. You look at the baking dish that he brought out of the oven. “Are those brussel sprouts?”

“Yeah! My mom’s recipe; they’re delicious! Do you like them?”

“They’re one of my favourites! My recipe uses bacon though.”

“Oh nice! You’ll have to share it with me, I’d love to try it. And, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Josh,”

“I know.” He shot you a look and you backtracked. “I-Sorry, it’s just-I actually work with you? I’m in the analytics department, so I know your jersey number and I saw it on your sweats and put two and two together. I’m not being a creep, I’m sorry.” The sound of laughter behind you made you blush.

“Not being a creep my ass. They did the same thing when me and Jimmy ran into them for the first time!” Brady commented, walking into the kitchen. He was wearing a nice pair of dress pants and a button up shirt. You shook your head before nodding towards his attire.

“Going somewhere nice?” He looked down at his outfit and shook his head.

“It’s Thanksgiving? It’s why they gave us the day off?” That...that would explain the amount of food in the kitchen. No matter how many years you lived here, you’d always forgotten that Canadian Thanksgiving was a whole month earlier. You placed the stir spoon on a plate next to the pot and wiped your hands on your pants.

“Oh! Um, right, well, uh in that case, I should be, I should get going. You guys must have plans. Nice to meet you Josh.” You made your way out of the kitchen to the foyer where your coat and shoes were without so much as a goodbye to the guys. You could hear Tim coming after you, his steps lighter and more graceful than Brady or Josh’s. But, he didn’t make a move to do anything except stare at you as you got ready to leave. It wasn’t until you were getting ready to put on your shoes that he spoke.

“You should just stay. We’ve got lots of food.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”

“Brady’s bringing his girlfriend and a couple other of the guys are coming over. You wouldn’t be intruding.”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You should. Why won’t you stay?”

“I don’t know if you have this holiday in Germany, but Thanksgiving is a family thing, Tim.” You sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t I have brought something? Am I even dressed okay?” You looked down at your outfit - a simple pair of jeans and one of your comfiest graphic tees. He shrugged.

“Don’t worry about that. You look great, just enjoy the night with me. Stay? Please? C’mon schatz, you’re like my family to me.” The two of you maintained eye contact until you broke it and took off your coat. You could see Tim’s smile widen and when it came to walking back into the kitchen, he extended his arm. You took it and the two of you made your way back towards what would end up being a wonderful evening full of laughs and smiles shared between friends.

***

You had come over for a trashy reality TV binge after a particularly hard day at work. None of the numbers were adding up the way you needed them to and your laptop was having a hissy-fit all day. Soon enough, you called it a day and texted Tim, telling him you’d be over in twenty minutes. He greeted you at the door with your favourite chocolate treat, a box of Timbits, and “there’s popcorn in the microwave right now, it’s almost done”. You could’ve melted right on the spot. Instead, you made your way over to the couch where you collapsed and pulled the blanket he had already set out for you up to your chin. You breathed in the smells of pine and sock tape and felt your body relax. HGTV played in the background while you waited for him to bring the popcorn out when his phone dinged.

“Tim, your phone!” You yelled to him from across the living room.

“Who is it?” You sighed and moved from your comfortable spot on the couch to check his messages. You turned on the phone to see a message from Josh, saying he’s five minutes away. You went to lock the phone, seeing the unimportance of the message but something caught your eye. You swiped to clear the notification and his background came into focus. It was the two of you standing in front of the Ottawa sign at ByWard market, his arm around your shoulders and a grin on both your faces.

“Who was it?” He entered the room as he repeated his question.

“Just Josh,” you whispered, turning around to face him holding up his phone. “Am I your lock screen?” He blushes, opening his mouth stammering for words. “I am! I knew I was important to you.” You poked him a couple times for an extra tease when his face settled into a small pout and he retaliated by tickling you. You shrieked and hopped up from the couch, laughing as he chased you around the house.

“Stop doing that!” He laughed as you escaped his clutches once more. Your laugh echoed through the house as he tried again to try to tickle you, but you grabbed Josh and used him as a human shield.

“No fair schatz,” He relented his tickling and sat on the couch. You took a seat beside him, but kept your distance in case he decided to start his torture again.

“You know, you’ve never told me what that means,” You look over to him and he’s already scratching the back of his neck.

“What what means?”

“That thing you keep calling me. Like shats?”

Josh laughed and spoke up. “It means swe-”

“Friend! It means friend!” Tim interrupted loudly, his cheeks rosy. “It means friend.” You raised your eyebrows at his outburst and his explanation.

“You call your friends, ‘friend’?”

He scratched at his jaw and slowly nodded. “In my city, it’s common for friends to just call each other ‘friend’. It’s normal,” You managed out a ‘okay’ between breathy laughs, wondering why he was being so strange about it. It was just a nickname. But the blush in his cheeks didn’t diminish until well after Josh left the room, muttering under his breath about ‘idiots’, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe it meant more than Tim was letting on.

***

“Are you going to be at the gala on Saturday?” Tim asked you as the two of you ate (lunch for you, pre-practice snack for him) on the concourse. It was your first concourse snack since the All-Star break and you had missed him. WhatsApp messages and Instagram messages just weren’t the same as being in his presence. You finished your bite, and shook your head.

“It’s only for players isn’t it?”

“Would you want to come with me?”

“Like...as a date?” You looked up at him, your eyes wide. Maybe this was the clue you were waiting for.

“As friends?” Your eyes darted down onto the counter and Tim took that as a sign you didn’t want to go with him. “There’ll be puppies there.”

“Well,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “If there’s going to be puppies, I need no more convincing.” You forced a smile onto your face and he returned the sentiment, before finishing up the food. You wished him good luck before the game, and left to go the the box.

Soon enough, it was Saturday night and you found yourself in front of the Fairmont Château. You gazed up at the stone walls and admired how the orange glow from the lights gave it such a warm feeling, compared to the shivers that were going up and down your back. You had found time to go and get a fancy outfit for the night, its gold fabric being a perfect fit on your body. Tim had told you he’d meet you inside, so walked upt the steps alone, avoiding the other guests in fancy attire. They looked like they belonged here. You couldn't relate. The front entrance of the hotel was exactly as you expected -- it had marble floors, crown moldings, and a domed ceiling. You followed the chatter to one of the conference rooms, someone offering to check your coat. With just your clutch, you entered the ballroom with the sound of your shoes following you.

You looked around to try to find Tim among the executives, easily spotting him when you heard Brady’s booming laugh in the corner. You made your way over to the group, including Brady, Josh, Drake, Tim and some respective dates. Josh waved at you and Tim turned around to see you walking towards him.

Tim stood there, memorized by the way the Senators gold fabric hugged your figure and the way your eyes had lit up when you saw one of the puppies. You came over to him, brushing his arm before joining the group. Hellos were thrown your way and it wasn’t long before everyone went back to their conversations and you were able to speak with Tim.

“You look handsome." You handed him your clutch, which he held unashamedly, as you adjusted his gold bowtie, letting your hands linger on the front of his chest. You gulped before snapping out of your trance and took your clutch back from him.

“Um, uh, thanks. You look...good too,” His voice was breathy and his cheeks had flushed a little. You smiled at him, before noticing another golden retriever stumbling around next to its trainer and darting off to pet it. Tim watched you go and he stood back, blown away by the way his heart was beating faster and how he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.

“You finally figured it out, huh?” He turned around at Drake’s voice. He had recognized the look on Tim’s face, it was the same one he had when he looked at his partner. Tim furrowed his eyebrows.

“Figured what out?”

Drake scoffed and took a gulp of his drink. “God, you already know and you’re denying it. You’re in love with them.” Tim shook his head, waving off the thought. You were his best friend, nothing more. “C’mon man, you can keep lying to yourself but it’s obvious to everyone else.” He was then swept away by a reporter, leaving Tim to his thoughts.

He wasn’t in love with you. He was sure of it. You were his best friend, his safe spot. It’s not like when he sees you his heart beats faster or he notices how your eyes crinkle when you laugh or when the sun hits your skin just right, you look like an angel. It’s not like the more he looks at your lips the more he wants to know if they taste like your sweet honey lip chap. It’s not like your smile could cure his darkest days or that he could see himself introducing you to his family as his partner.

Except it was like that.

Tim saw all of that with you. He saw more galas, more late night drives, lazy Sunday mornings. He wanted to see you after his games, not in your office, but in the tunnel where you’d be wearing his jersey and a special jean jacket. He wanted to take you home to meet his family, his hometown friends. He wanted to show you all the places that were special to him, just as you showed his places special to you. He wanted to meet Dani and see if she thought he was good enough to be your partner. As he stared at you petting the small golden pup, he realized Drake was right. He was in love with you.

He was in love with his best friend.

Fuck, what was he supposed to do now?

You didn’t give him too much time to think about that as you came up behind him, telling him everything about the golden retriever you just met. He smiled at you, and motioned with his head to find your seats as dinner was going to be served soon. You sat next to him, your leg brushing against his under the table. Even from that, he got shocks-- tiny lightning bolts trailing up his body. It was like every sense was heightened after he came to the realization that he loved you. How am I supposed to even act around them? He thought.

The meal passed without issue and while Tim went about schmoozing all the executives and donors, you stick with the other halves. You had already met Emma, Brady’s partner, and she introduced you to Dakota, Briar, and Marissa (she had also told you who they came with but that information had not stuck with you).

“Sooo… Emma, how’s the wedding planning going?” Briar asked. She had gotten engaged over the holiday break. She laughed and waved off the question.

“Oh, not at all! We’re just enjoying being engaged, it’s like the honeymoon phase all over again,”

“Just like you and Tim,” Dakota nudged you and wiggled her eyebrows. You coughed on your drink at her statement.

“What?” You managed to sputter. Emma looked uncomfortable but didn’t say anything. “What do you mean, like me and Tim?”

“Oh come on, it’s so obvious the two of you are in your honeymoon phase! Don’t be ashamed of it, you’re such a cute couple!”

“Ooh yes!! How his bowtie matched your outfit is like goals, I wish my boyfriend did that with me,” Marissa mentioned. Your voice felt caught in your throat and you were instantly aware of the breeze in the room and the sweat on the back of your neck.

“We’re just friends,” Your voice was small.

“I’ll believe that when pigs fly, babe. Oh, look, here comes your man.” Dakota winked at you before turning into her own date. You turn around quickly to see him walking over to you, laughing with Brady and Josh. Normally, the sight of him would calm you down. He was such a genuine person and you appreciated how you never had to shrink yourself to fit in with him. But with the girls’ comments, you suddenly couldn’t be around him. When his hand met the small of your back, you flinched before relaxing into his touch. It was just Tim, your Tim. It’s not a big deal unless you make it a big deal.

“Timmy, I was just telling Y/n what a cute couple you two are!”

“Well, what do they say? Oh right, they complete me,” He sent you a wink and pulled you closer to his side. You went stiff in his hold, and he noticed, instantly letting you out of his grip. You muttered out an excuse about work and said quick goodbyes to the group before you were out of the gala as fast as your shoes could allow. Your cheeks were hot with...embarrassment? No, that wasn’t quite it. But they were hot, and the room felt small with Dakota’s teasing so just needed to escape. You needed to have fresh air in your lungs, needed to feel the cool Ottawa air on your arms. Needed to be somewhere other than beside him and his light teasing that left your stomach in knots.

But you hadn't even reached the front door and grabbed your coat from the coat check when Tim caught up to you. He watched you try to put on your coat, as he rocked back and forth on his heels like that first day you met.

“Do you… do you actually have work in the morning or were you just saying that?” You looked up and met his eyes, the orbs holding a certain vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

“I got called at the last minute. I forgot to tell you, Jody’s kid got sick so I’m covering the game on Sunday but I haven’t prepared my notes or anything and you know me, I’ve got to be prepared or I won’t make a coherent analysis and then I’m really in trouble-” Tim cut your rambling off with a murmur of your name and you slowed your frantic movements to look at him.

“We’re okay, right?”

You smiled at him before you walked out the glass door. “Yeah, we’re alright.”

***

Last night was confusing to say the least. You could still feel the heat in your cheeks from...embarrassment? No, it wasn’t that. It was more like you couldn’t stand around to see what he meant by his comment. You couldn’t stand around why everyone else say you as a couple when you knew you weren’t. But you were okay with not being a couple weren’t you?

It’s like not you liked him that way. Yeah, a simple smile from him could turn your day around and your concourse snacks were the highlight of your week. But that’s because he was your best friend. It’s not like you wanted to spend every morning waking up to him or spend your afternoons running your fingers through his hair. It’s not like you wanted to take him back to Seattle to meet Dani or how you wanted to wear his jersey to call him yours. It’s not like you daydreamed about him gently holding your hand as you walked through ByWard market or how soft his lips would be as he leaned in to kiss you or what his abs felt like without a shirt separating your fingers from his skin.

Except it was like that.

And then came the comment at the gala. Did that mean he liked you too? But he said you were just going as friends. Did he mean it platonically? What if you read things wrong? Fuck, why were feelings so complicated?

Dani, you needed to call Dani. She’d know what to make of all this. She picked up on the fourth ring. “Thanks for calling Books By The Ocean, may you please hold?”

“Dani, it’s me.” Hold music filled your ear and you rolled your eyes. A few minutes later, there was almost certainly a hole in your rug from your pacing and she finally picked up.

“Why’d you resort to calling the store? I would’ve answered my phone eventually,”

“Yeah, eventually. I just really need to talk to you now,”

“Okay, so what’s up?”

“There’s this guy…”

“Is it Tim? Please tell me it’s Tim.” When you didn’t answer, she rejoined before reeling it in and telling you to continue.

“Anyways...we’re pretty good friends, I've known him since like the start of the season, and I don’t know, like I think he likes me? And I mean, I like him, he’s really great but, like, I just-”

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I want to take the next step with him. I want to be more than friends with him. I want all those things but… I just seem frozen. Like when I think about telling him, my body feels like it won’t move. It feels like I’m underwater. But I want to do more with him. I want that. Why won’t my brain get that and let me… I don’t know, let me act on my feelings?”

“You’re protecting yourself. You’ve never got hurt before,” You scoffed at her statement.

“What do you mean, of course I have,”

“Okay, sure, when you scraped your knee or when Nancy Peters called you dumb in second grade but you haven’t got hurt before. You haven’t opened yourself up to someone and let someone into your heart and let them see you for who you are.”

“Well, yeah, okay, but that’s because they might not like what they see,”

She sighed. “You can’t go through life with your walls up, kiddo. It’s hard, but you have to trust yourself. You have to let yourself feel. You have to let people in. When we were little and moved around a lot, maybe it was a survival tactic. But you’ve been in Ottawa for close to five years now and have unpacked all your boxes? Have you had any friends over? You’ve put down roots there but you’re still holding onto a survival tactic when you need to be living, not just surviving.

“I let people in--”

“No. You don’t. Has Tim ever been in your apartment? Has he seen that even though you resent Mom, you still have family photos of the four of us in your living room? Does he know about Dad? You might have told him stuff but you’re still living behind walls.” She sighed.

“Look, I don’t mean to be hard on you, but I want to see you thrive kiddo. I want you to experience life, and yeah, hurt is a part of life. You aren’t doing life right if you come out unscathed. And sure, maybe he’s a great friend. But in some instances, that romantic partner can fill a more emotionally secure place. People usually place more trust in their partner than just a friend. You’ve got to open up to him more than you already have if you want more from him.”

“How do I do that?”

“You’ve got to figure that out on your own kiddo, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to talk to him. Honestly; no hiding behind your friendship.” You nodded to her advice, before realizing she couldn’t see you, and thanked her for her help. She hung up with the promise to chat again on Wednesday like you normally did. You threw your phone beside the sink and leaned your head against the cool counter.

Be honest with him

Okay, you could do that. Easy enough right? You just had to make a plan to tell him. You could do that.

***

You were walking through the halls close to the bench to deliver your latest stats to the coach. It was your job after the other analysts determined you “had the youngest feet” and could go scouring around to find the coach. You didn’t mind. Besides… if you just happened to bump into Tim while you were down here, well then that was a completely unplanned coincidence. Since the gala and your chat with Dani afterwards, you were feeling good about where you stood with Tim. And you’d made your plan. After the game, you’d meet up for after-game snacks like most home games and you had told yourself you’d talk to him then.

You had given the latest report to the coach on the bench, walking past the locker room towards the box when you heard Tim's voice.

“...I don’t know man, I just need a break from Y/n.” You stopped in your tracks. It wasn’t that you meant to be nosy, but at the mention of your name… you wanted to see what else he had to say. You hadn’t meant to smother him but you guess he saw it differently. Your shoulders dropped and you bit your lip.

“I only have a problem around them!” You could feel the breakfast in your stomach start to turn, the feeling of bile starting to rise up. A ringing started to fill your ears, the white static noise only being pieced by his once comforting voice.

“It’s just… We work together, you know? It’s awkward,” Where was this attitude when you were hanging out at the start of the season? Last week? If this is how he felt, why didn’t… what did he mean by his comment to Dakota?

His voice shook you out of your trance. “Like at the end of the day, I’m me… they pay me a lot to play my game and they’re...them.” At that, you rushed away from earshot. If that was how he really felt, then screw him. If he was the hockey star and you were just the analyst, then that’s what role you’d play. Nothing more, nothing less. And he wasn’t brave enough to say that to your face, you’d say it first.

This is why you didn’t open yourself up. If you were going to get hurt either way, it might as well be the least damaging option.

Over the next few games and practices, you kept your distance from the players. You avoided the bench, sending Jody to give reports to the coach. You kept your office door closed, the blinds closed, and you made sure to time your exits of the arena to avoid Tim. If avoiding him meant you avoided the inevitable conversation where he would tell you your flaws and point out every way you misread things, then you would do that.

After you heard that, you stopped going out of your way to pass by the boys in the arena. You went into your office, closed the door, and didn’t leave until you went home. When you had to sit in the stands for practices, you sat higher than you used to and ignored the waves and stared you got from the team. He sent the occasional text but you replied with an im busy too many times that he stopped trying. It was odd to you how he kept reaching out when he was the one who said he needed a break but you ignored that voice in your head.

It was a Friday when he finally confronted you. You had been so close to leaving the arena, just one more hallway, and you would’ve been out the door and into the parking lot. He had called your name and you tried to turn the corner without him but he caught up easily, grabbing your wrist to get you to stay.

“What’s up? It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” He let go of your wrist as you turned to face him.

“Well that’s what happens when you’re a bigshot NHL player and I’m a lowly analyst.” He squinted his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows at your statement.

“What?”

“Look, I don’t-- I don’t think we should be friends anymore,”

He slowly nodded, thinking your words over in his head. “Okay. Um...I think… yeah, that could be good. I don’t think we should be just friends either.” He shot you a shy smile with a spark of hope in his eyes but you frowned.

“Good. It’s settled then.” You turned on your heel and walked away from him, only wiping your teary eye once you had rounded the corner, refusing to let him see you cry. You missed the way he frowned as you retreated.

The weekend was spent in bed, repeat episodes of Loki playing in the background. Loki never hurt you the way Tim had, the way his words dug into your insecurities of being alone creating a wound like no other. You had turned your phone off earlier as it kept buzzing with messages from him. You didn’t want to hear his excuses of why and you didn’t want to explain that you’d overheard his conversation. But the season wasn’t over yet so you gave yourself two days to grieve. When Monday morning came, it was like nothing had ever happened.

Tim caught you in the main entrance way at the rink. It was close to 8am and you knew he didn’t have practice until 11, so it was obvious he was waiting for you. You walk right past him until he softly calls your name and you stop walking, but don’t turn around. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“You know why.” You whipped around and scoffed at him. “And you know what else? If you had a problem with me, you could’ve just said something. You didn’t have to keep hanging out with me.”

“What?”

“I think we should just keep this professional, 18. I’m nothing more than a background analyst to your hockey superstar, so let’s just stick to our jobs, yeah?”

“What are you talking about?”

“We work together, we shouldn’t be friends, you said it yourself. It’ll be better this way. Now, please, just leave me alone.” You brushed by him, bumping your shoulder with his, and you missed the way his jaw fell open at how quickly your relationship seemed to change.

He seemed to leave you alone after that. He didn’t check in and he didn’t send funny memes he found. He didn’t text you to tell you he landed safely on road trips and you didn’t congratulate him on a game well played. You could tell Brady and Josh thought it was weird but didn’t say anything, just gave you pitying looks when you passed by or caught their eye in the halls.

The Senators failed to clinch a playoff spot, thanks to an overtime loss to Winnipeg. The end of the season for you was nice. It meant a shift in your work to more prospects, and thankfully, a more flexible work schedule. You didn’t have to go into the arena and most of the players went back to their hometowns to visit. It was supposed to be a reprieve for you, knowing Tim wasn’t even in the country. It was supposed to be relaxing, going to all the places that had helped you in the past to regroup your thoughts.

But instead, it felt suffocating, strolling through the market. You’d been here thousands of times to clear your head, but this time the deeper you walked, the more the thoughts in your head swirled into a hurricane.

You’d never know what home felt like. You’d had friends tell you it’s having like extended family over around the holidays or it’s the peacefulness they felt at their lake house. You thought you had found it in Ottawa, its quaintness and history bringing you a sense of calm you hadn’t had before. But only with Tim did you feel that inner peace that home felt like. Only with Tim did you feel like you could take on the world. Only with Tim did you feel whole.

And that was scary.

Feeling like one person could complete you, like they had a piece of your heart you didn’t know you gave them, was scary. You were used to being on your own. You’d done it throughout your levels of schooling and throughout the beginnings of your career. And all it took for that strength to come crashing down was a bashfully confident German hockey player.

He couldn’t even tell you why. It would’ve hurt more to hear the exact reasons why you weren’t good enough for him, but it would have quelled your mind from picking on every single insecurity your mind could come up with.

Before you knew it, you were staring at the Ottawa sign. You glanced around to see couples waiting for their turn at the sign. Some of the guys had their arms around the shoulders’ of their girlfriends. Some of the girls had their hands clasped in their girlfriends’. Some people had their arms around the waist of their partner. But they all had a smile on their face, a fondness that was reserved for the love of their life.

Your eye caught the sight of a backwards Senators cap and your head whipped around. The person was tall and was wearing a grey hoodie. The man turned to the side and you caught a glance of the brown tufts of hair that stuck out of the cap. He threw his head back and the corners of your mouth turned up. Tim’s laugh was always infectious, even if you were upset with him.

But it wasn’t him.

He hadn’t reached out since the day in the hallway. As much as you knew you didn’t want to hear him say things more hurtful than what you overheard, you couldn’t help but wonder where you went wrong. The what-ifs tumbled around in your head, the possibilities of why suddenly your friendship was too much for him.

As you stood there in the market, the memories racing through your mind mixed with images of happy couples all around you, you knew you had to get out. You don’t really remember the rush of leaving, all you know is that the city that felt big for so many years now felt too small. You can’t go anywhere without being reminded of him, his smile, his laugh. How his eyes glimmer from the light of a movie. You drove yourself to the airport, knowing there wasn’t going to be a cab this early in the morning.

Before you knew it, you were standing outside of the familiar blue painted bookstore with your duffle bag in your hands. It was raining and overcast in Seattle, which wasn’t unusual, but even the fat teardrops felt melancholic. The sign in the window said closed, but you knew Dani would be in the back, organizing new stock. You knocked on the window, the sound rattling through the worn building. A few seconds later, her head of light pink hair came to the door, opening it. Before she could question your presence, you spoke.

“He didn’t want me,” you cried. “He didn’t even see all of me and he didn’t want me.” You dropped your bag as she pulled you into a hug. One hand cradled the back of your head as she pulled you out of the rain and into the store. You inhaled her scent, a mix of sea salt and the old bookstore, and squeezed her tightly. When she released you from the hug, she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, her fingers grazing down your jaw. She gave you a soft smile, before walking to the back of the store, where her apartment was. Your shoes squeaked against the old hardwood floors as you followed her towards the kitchen, where you could smell a pot of tea brewing.

She was silent as she poured you a cup, kissed your head, before whispering everything was going to work out. She slipped out of the room, giving you your space.

You didn’t even have to ask. Dani let you stay with her for the summer, as long as you helped out around the store when you weren’t doing your own work. She didn’t push you for details about Tim, she just let you be. You tried your best to be cheery around the customers but that facade only lasted so long. When you were alone, you didn’t try to hide the emptiness you felt there.

***

Too soon did the days start to get shorter, the nights colder, the pitter-patter of raindrops became more constant which meant fall was coming. The season was starting up again, and you had to head back to Ottawa. This summer at home was a nice break but you knew that running away wasn’t going to solve all your problems. You were packing when a text from Josh came in.

So when are you getting in?

i land at 9pm on the 20th. Why?

Can’t I wonder when my friend gets into the city?

we’re friends?

Of course we are Numbers! I don’t share family recipes with just anyone :)

good to know thanks :)

You continued packing, thinking about what he said. You knew the two of you were friends, but he was Tim’s teammate. His roommate. To hear him say, regardless of where you and Tim stand, that you two were still good was a relief. As much as you’ve enjoyed your time away from the city, you missed work. You missed sitting in the arena, a brisk chill over your shoulder, the sounds of scraping ice and whistles. You missed the quaintness of Ottawa and, as much as he’d never let you forget it, you missed Josh’s cooking. Nights with Dani didn’t compare to nights with Brady (and sometimes Emma) and Josh.

Dani parked in the loading zone of the airport. She got out of the car to help with your bag, even though you had only brought one.

“Hey, listen, um. I know you don’t want to talk about what happened with Tim but… I think you need to talk to him.”

“Dani...”

“No, listen. I think you need some closure. You ran away from a city you haven’t left in five years, a city you so obviously love, because it hurt to think about him. Maybe closure means you talk to him. Maybe it doesn’t. But you’ve spent this whole summer looking lost, like you’re waiting for something to magically appear and make everything better. You look like you’ve lost a piece of yourself and you don’t know how to get it back. And that’s not you, kiddo. It’s never been you; you’ve always been so straightforward and sure of yourself. I want you to feel like yourself again, that’s all.”

“What if…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “What if the piece of me that I lost isn’t something I can get back?”

“Then you fill it. It might not be perfect and maybe you need lots of tape, and maybe you accept that there will be small cracks in it, but those holes make your souls yours. It’s a part of life, and you can’t avoid it no matter how hard you try.” You pulled her in for a hug, some of the tears in your eyes dropping onto her shoulder.

“Thank you Dani. For everything.” She pulled back to wipe the tears from your face, a smile on her face.

“You know I’m always here for you, kiddo. Take care of yourself, okay?” You nodded, knowing if you spoke again, more tears would bubble over. You walked towards the departures gate, walking towards the reality you ran from.

Several hours later, you were happy to be back in Ottawa. You had missed it, as much as it pained you when you were here. Tim Hortons, bilingual signs, friendly smiles, and oh god you could have real poutine again. Yeah, it was nice to be back.

Dani’s words mulled over in your head throughout the flight, and continued to as you made your way through the airport. She was right, maybe you needed closure. Accept what happened and move on. You’d lost friends when you graduated early, you’d lost friends when you moved away. You’d lost friends before and this was no different.

Except you knew deep down it was different. It was Tim; it was always going to be different with him.

You shook your head, as if to physically rid yourself of the thought. If Tim didn’t want to be around you, then you weren’t going to waste your time waiting for him to show up. You’d suck it up everything you had to look at a stat, but other than that you’d focus on work, focus on proving yourself in the company. You started to walk towards where you’d parked your car (without wondering how much the parking was), ignoring the happy reunions of students and families. You had been perfectly fine being in Ottawa on your own until you realized how much better it could be when you had someone.

A hand grasped your wrist and instantly, you turned around and ripped your arm from the stranger. You looked up, first to see a bouquet of flowers made up of peach roses, white tulips, and hydrangeas. Behind the colours of the flowers, you see a familiar face, eyes full of sorrow and hope. Even when you were ignoring him, he was still so easy to read.

“Number 18.” You struggled to keep your voice even, but you lifted your head to appear as if he had no effect on him.

“Hi Y/n,” He met your eyes, which you quickly darted away. “These are for you.” He tried to hand the bouquet to you, but you shook your head.

“How did you know when I got in?” The coldness in your voice surprised Tim, but he didn’t show it, swallowing slowly before answering you.

“Josh told me." You folded your arms, your hands gripping your bag in case you needed to get away from this conversation.

“Josh mentioned it or you asked Josh?” When he didn’t answer, you knew it was the latter and scoffed at his sneaky actions. You quickly turned away from him and moved faster towards the exit. You heard him sigh from behind you and before you could make a sly comment about it beneath your breath, he was ahead of you, blocking your way. You tried to side-step him, but hockey reflexes prevailed. You glared his way and tried again, silently begging him to move.

“C’mon, you have to talk to me sometime, we work together,” He commented.

“That’s exactly it. We work together. You’re the high and mighty NHL superstar and I’m the nerdy analyst. We have our places. They don’t mix, so really I don’t have to work with you at all. So, please, if you could just move, I have nothing else to say to you.” You tried once more to step around him, but he lightly grabbed your forearm to stop you.

“But I have stuff to say to you.”

“You had months to say it, so I’ll say it again, please let me by.” Suddenly, he was on his knees in the airport, the flowers still outstretched in his hands.

“Y/n,”

“What are you doing?” You hiss to him, your face darting around to see people starting to stare at Tim’s grand gesture.

“I need you to talk to me, and you won’t, so I’ll beg until you agree to hear me out,” You could feel more people staring, the shutter of camera phones, the eyes of everyone in the Ottawa airport (or what felt like it) easily making up your mind. There was a reason you were an analyst, away from the spotlight, doing your work behind the scenes.

“Get up,” you started to pull on his arm, but he just stayed anchored to the ground.

“You’ll talk to me?”

“18, I will do anything as long as you stop making a scene,” At this point, your cheeks felt as if you’d stood under the beating sun for an hour. He got up from his knees, the flowers still outstretched in his hands, and you let go of his arm. You grabbed the flowers from his arms, dropping them in a garbage bin as you stalked out of the airport. Tim caught up to you and walked by your side.

You said nothing as you reached your car, unlocking the doors. You didn’t even wait for him to have his seatbelt on before you were backing out of the stall and driving away. Thoughts were running wild in your head; you were angry and embarrassed at the stunt he pulled at the airport, appalled at the audacity he had to show up after what he said, and last of all you were reluctantly happy to be back in his presence again. So you went to the one place you knew you could think.

You put the car in park overlooking the suburbs. You turned it off and rested your arms on the steering wheel. You couldn’t make the effort to get out and walk to the lookout spot, the car creating a safe bubble for your thoughts.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” His soft voice broke the tense silence in the car and you scoffed.

“We’re not friends anymore. You’re the Senators star player and I’m just the nerdy analyst. There’s no reason for me to need to talk to you.”

“See, you keep saying that but I-I don’t get it! What does that even mean?” You furrow your eyebrows as you turn to face him, his own face scrunched up and his eyes hard.

“What do you mean you don’t get it? You said that! The last game against Montréal? I was walking past the locker room and… I overheard you talking with the guys.” You looked down to your lap, findling with your hands. You briefly saw Tim’s hand start to move towards you, but you shook your head and it stayed in his lap. “You said you needed a break from me. You said that ‘at the end of the day they pay me a lot to play my game and they’re.. them’. You said you had a problem with me. What was I supposed to take from that except that you didn’t want me to be in your life?”

He stammered for words but you cut him off. “No, I don’t think you understand how much it hurt. Hurt to have the one person who I thought understood me to talk behind my back about how I wasn’t enough for them. It hurt to know that the one person who I always wanted to talk to, didn’t want to talk to me. Hurt to think that you’ve only ever seen me as just some nerdy analyst who has no place in your life. I had been fine before, without you in my life, but then you came in and knocked down every barrier I ever had. And then left as if you didn’t just break my life into pieces!

“I left Ottawa because it hurt too much to go to all my favourite places, because I went there with you. I let you into my safe spaces, and when you left, you shattered that security. You tainted all the good I had there. I thought that Ottawa was home before I met you,” you scoffed. “Not even close. You feel like home to me. And for you to say that I was a problem in your life?” You shook your head at him and looked down at your hands. “I tried to get over it, believe me I did. But every single place I went I was reminded of you… and how everything we had didn’t feel like a big deal to you.”

“I never meant for that to happen.” His voice was quiet and strained, as if he was trying to keep his emotions within him.

“You know the hardest part? I didn’t just have to get over losing my best friend. I had to get over someone I fell in love with! I lost the single most important relationship with one tiny little passing conversation. And you acted like nothing happened! Like we were still friends, like you still cared for me-”

“Ich liebe dich du trottel!” His outburst caught you off guard and you gulped. His heavy breathing was the only sound in the car as you whispered.

“You know I don’t speak German…”

“You don’t need to know German to know what I said,” His eyes were hard, a look you had only seen during games.

“Oh.” You shook your head and looked at him. “Wait what?”

“I didn’t say those things you think I did! You didn’t listen to the whole thing! Brady was teasing me about me saying I don’t have a problem talking to people I like and I don’t normally but you’re the exception! I needed a break from you because everytime I see you, my heart starts beating faster and my hands get sweaty and I don’t know how to act! And the guys said that sounds like I’m in love with you-- and I am! I am! But when I finally started to do something about it, you ran away from me! I didn’t know what to do. Besides, if I fell in love with you...it could mess with our jobs. Because if for any reason, something happens, they’d fire you before they’d ever trade me. And you’ve worked too hard to have an opportunity like this be taken away from you because of me. So... I didn’t know what to do. And then you just kept ignoring me and saying those things about how you’re just a nerdy analyst…. It felt like we weren’t on the same page anymore and I didn’t know where it came from or what to do either so I tried to give you space. But then you shut me out. And you said we shouldn’t be friends. So I thought that meant.... you wanted to be more than friends? And the boys were saying that you being mean to me was just you having a hard time having feelings for me but then you… uh, yelled at me so I left you alone. But that doesn’t mean I stopped thinking about you.” He placed one of his hands on top of your tentatively, giving you the option to shoo his hand away. When you didn’t, he rubbed the skin on top of your hand. “It never meant I stopped caring about you.”

He sighed. “I guess I see now that I should not have given you space. I should’ve been better for you because that’s what you deserve.”

“I could’ve been better too, this isn’t all your fault. I said some mean things.”

“I promise you, that when we’re together I’m not a NHL player. I’m just me… just Tim from Germany who likes hockey. You have always seen me for who I am, and that’s...that’s something I love about you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. Love… was a big word. Love was for confident people. Love was for those who didn’t understand the weight of that four letter word. Love wasn’t a word you threw around. Love was scary. It asked you to place your bandaged heart in someone else’s hands and hope they didn’t drop it, shattering the pieces into smithereens. Love meant letting down those walls that time and time again had proved that needed to stay up. To protect you. To avoid the heartache of broken trust.

And here he was, throwing that word around as if the implications didn’t matter. As if he didn’t leave. As if he didn’t call you a problem. As if he didn’t know the months you spent trying to forget him and the fragments he left behind.

As if he still wasn’t understanding.

“I… I can’t do this.” You go to open the car door only for it to lock. You gasp, and you whip your head around, your eyes sharp. “This is my car, you can’t do that!” His eyes went wide and you tried again, only for it to be locked again. You gritted your teeth and he spoke before you could reprimand him again.

“Don’t shut me out again! You say you can’t do this, okay, but tell me why. We’re supposed to-to talk to each other! We would’ve had no mess if you had just talked to me after you heard what I said! So.. talk to me,” You met his soft eyes, your resolve breaking with just one look. “Please, schatz.”

You slowly pulled your hand off the handle, letting it fall into your lap. You picked at your fingernails while trying to compose your thoughts, Tim’s concerned eyes never leaving you. He murmured your name and you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“I’m sorry I just- I don’t know if I can jump back into where we were. I know that… it’s different than I thought but I can’t-” you cut yourself off before you said something you regret and a cold chill ran through you. “It still hurts. I can’t just unhear those things you said. Especially when they came from you. So, I’m going to need time to process everything.”

He placed one of his hands over your fidgeting fingers and you lifted your head to meet his soft eyes. “I’ll give you some space. Just let me know when you know, yeah?” Before you could nod your head, he had opened his door and got out of your vehicle. You quickly got out to question him.

“What are you doing?” He turns around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m… I’m giving you space?”

“How are you planning to get home? Uber?” He shrugged before nodding, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Uh, no. No. Get in.” He raised his eyebrows and you sighed. “It’s almost 11pm, we’re in a dark forestry area, and you are the least threatening person I know. I’m not going to let you get stabbed by some murder psycho; you still mean something to me, you know.”

At that he came over to the car, and the two of you got settled back into your seats. After you buckled up and started the engine, Tim broke his silence.

“Did you mean that? That I still mean something to you?”

You swallowed slowly and took a while to answer his question, your hand resting on the gear shift. You put the car in reverse, and looked over at him. “You’re always going to mean something to me. Just what exactly you are changes.” You backed out of the parking lot and started the drive to his place. He was quiet for a few minutes, pondering your answer, but when he spoke his voice had the quiet confidence he always carried around with him.

“Can I ask what I am right now?” Streetlights illuminated his face and out of the corner of your eye you see him slightly turned towards you, his face unsure.

“No. I’ll keep you updated?”

“Good enough.”

The rest of the drive back to his house was quiet, aside from the lo-fi beats you had playing in the background. Despite the tension, the drive felt comfortable. When you parked in front of his house, he cleared his throat.

“Um, thank you for the ride. I’ll see you around I guess,” He unbuckled his seat belt and placed his hand on the handle.

“Goodnight Tim.” Despite your smile, Tim really hoped your goodnight didn’t also mean goodbye. He got out of your car, walked up the steps to his door, unlocked it and gave you a small wave before he went inside.

Tim was true to his word. He gave you space. He didn’t go back to the lookout spot or the war memorial, knowing those were your sanctuaries before they were his. He didn’t ask for updates, he didn’t stop by your office, he didn’t ask Josh how you were doing.

And you appreciated it. The time and space left you alone with your thoughts and you often visited the lookout spot or the war memorial, trying to find some peace, but those spots were now shared with Tim. So, for the first time in a long time, you spent time in your apartment.

When you moved in, you hadn’t done anything to the place. Spaces were temporary in your experience. It was more hassle than it was worth to try to make the space your own if, in a year everything was a clean slate. But Dani was right. It had been close to six years now since you moved in. Six years. You had a stable job, you had friends here, it was time to accept that maybe this was more than temporary.

You started by unpacking the last few boxes that were stacked in the hallway. You replaced the command hooks hanging your picture frames with nails. You got new paint to liven up the living room from the basic beige it was before. You put the work into making your apartment really yours. You had to stop living behind walls and this was a first step.

The next step was to really open up.

***

You were waiting outside the dressing room for Tim to get out. You came down as soon as practice finished so you knew you wouldn’t miss him. You leaned against the cool concrete, trying to control your bouncing leg. He was one of the last out of the dressing room and you shyly smiled at the other players who left. When he came out, you popped off from the wall and stood in front of him.

“Do you still want to know why I picked hockey?” You could tell your question caught him off guard but he nodded nonetheless. “You had asked and I brushed it off...because it hurt to think about. Because it was my dad...He loved hockey. Everywhere we went, there was a team he could cheer for, but he always wished that his hometown team would win, no matter how bad they were. He took me to a game once. I had asked why he liked it so much, it was cold and loud and people were drunk and I’m pretty sure our team was losing. We were down in the crowd and he said to me, ‘Hockey is this great sport. It connects people. It creates families right before your eyes. Enemies can become teammates. This...this sport can be a family for you, anywhere you go. I hope one day you can find something that does the same thing for you.’ Two weeks later, he had a heart attack. So, I held onto the one thing that he found belonging in. I liked my math, it made sense, and I’m good at it. But when it came to doing something with my life, I just- I wanted something to make my dad proud of me, you know? I wanted to feel connected to him.”

Tim was silent but he pulled you into a hug, your head going into the crook of his neck. His arms went around your waist and he held you for a minute. “Your dad would be proud of you. I know he would. Why’d you tell me now though?”

“Well, friends share personal stuff, right?” You pulled away from the hug just enough to catch his eyes. You looked up at him hopefully, and he smiled.

“Yeah, they do.” He broke the hug, but kept an arm slung over your shoulder. “C’mon, friends also eat brussel sprouts for each other.” You laughed at his distaste for them and the two of you walked out the parking lot together, his arm still slung around your shoulders.

***

You looked up at the ceiling, your bedsheets twisted beside you. It had been about two weeks since you told Tim about your dad, and since then, the two of you had been exchanging texts daily. It felt familiar, even though both of you knew it was different. Not a bad different, just… different. You’d been over to his place a couple times and he came over for your place for a ‘welcome back’ dinner.

You were nervous to show him your apartment, but you knew you had grown into the space. It was no longer generic beige walls and command strips. The living room had an accent wall and you put nails in the wall to hang your family photos in the hallway. Tim took his time looking around your space, spending extra time in the hallway. He stopped in front of the picture of your family, all four of you, and smiled.

“My parents are coming into town when we play the Caps in December, if you want to meet them?” He had said when you sat down to eat. You sputtered your drink a little and set down the glass.

“Only if...you meet Dani when we go to Seattle in January?” His face broke into a grin and he nodded.

“I’d love that.” The rest of the dinner had no issues, just two friends catching up and getting familiar with each other again.

But he wanted you to meet his parents. He wanted you to meet the people who raised him, his family. And you didn’t have any hesitations. You wanted to meet the people who made Tim who he is.

This past week solidified that you knew what you wanted. You wanted to meet Tim’s family, you wanted to show him around Seattle, you wanted to be with him. If he still wanted to be with you.

If.

He had been pretty clear where he stood on his feelings, but the voice in the back of your mind taunted you with that one tiny two letter word. He might have seen how you reacted, how unstable you were, and how you weren’t ready to jump into things as a sign you didn’t want this. He could’ve taken your steps to being friends again as being just friends again. He could’ve-

You weren’t going to wait around to let what-if’s and might of’s and could’ve’s waft around in your head. You needed to talk to him, needed to see him. So in your pajama pants and a hoodie, you braved the Canadian night and drive to his house. You parked the car, rather haphazardly, but it could wait. You skipped a step walking up to his door and quickly phoned him.

You paced back and forth on the small porch as the phone rang three times before he picked up.

“Hallo?” His accent was thicker in his native language, the harsh constants sounding so soft from his lips.

“Can you come open the door?”

“What?”

“I’m outside. Can you open the door?”

“What? It’s like...early,”

A sigh escapes you. “Tim. I know. I know now.”

“Well if you looked at a clock before you left your place, you would’ve known earlier. That would’ve-”

“Tim.” You gulped and your voice trembled slightly. “I’m ready. I know what I want.” The tone of your voice dropped its lightheartedness and that alone was enough to shake the sleep from his mind. But your words? More than enough to get him out of bed and racing (as quietly as he could in the dark) towards you.

He opened the front door in his sleep joggers to see you pacing and shaking your arms. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he took the opportunity to admire you. The way your hair fell, your Senator pajama pants that Brady gave you as a gag gift, the way you bit your lip between your teeth.

“Hey.” His voice broke you out of your trance, your head whipping around to see him standing in the doorframe.

“Hi.” Your voice was quiet, the nerves getting the best of you. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His hair was a mess and he was wearing the grey hoodie you knew for a fact was his favourite. “Oh, right, I have to go first. Um...Are- are you still sure about your feelings for me?” He nodded. “And-and they’re for sure, good feelings?”

“… They’re such good feelings.” You nodded and gave your body another shake through, as if to dissipate the nerves racing throughout your veins.

“I know it’s taken me a while to kinda sort everything out but… I like you too. That’s why hearing those things hurt so much. That’s why I had to take some time. I've been alone for most of my life and it was scary to let someone in so easily, unknowingly. You just waltzed in and made yourself at home in my heart and it felt like you belonged so I… I didn’t even realize you could hurt me. And when I heard those things, it hurt more. It just solidified that I should’ve stayed alone. You can’t get hurt if there’s no one to hurt you right? But every talk, every late night drive, everything we had...it was worth all the hurt. So I’m ready. I want to do this with you, even if it hurts. I don’t know if I can do life without you.” He pushed himself off of the doorframe and came to stand in front of you, his hand cupping your cheeks, soothing the skin under your eyes.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you and I don’t plan on doing it ever again, Y/n, you have to know that.” You nodded against his hands and you could feel some of his tension fade from his body. “Does this mean… we could be more than friends?”

“I want to be much more than friends with you, Tim.” You bit your lip to try to stop your smile from growing so wide, but it broke through when you saw how wide his smile was and how his eyes crinkled with joy.

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” He asked softly, already leaning in. He left space between the two of you so you could decide but you easily leaned into him, your lips meeting. It was gentle but it was loving. You moved in sync, Tim’s hand moving to the back of your head to push you closer to him. Eventually, you pulled away for air.

“Schatz…” He breathed and you laughed lightly.

“You know, I don't think you've told me what that really means,” You said with a cheeky smile.

“Would you like me to say it in English, sweetheart?” He brushed his nose with yours.

“Hmm, German is fine,” You tilted your head upwards, almost brushing your lips with his. With your teasing, he let out a groan, bringing you in for another kiss. This time he broke for air, his eyes still slightly closed.

“You know, you cured my homesickness. I never felt like I missed home because I found home in you,” He whispered. Your heart melted and you brought your lips together with a passion he hadn’t seen from you before. Your hands tangled in his hair and he chased your lips as if it was a breakaway. When you broke for air, the two of you were breathless.

“As much as I want to keep doing that, it’s also very early and I am tired. Can we go back to bed please?” His arms were still around your waist, but he leaned back enough that you could see his face, puppy dog eyes and all. You nodded to his request with a soft smile, and went to remove yourself from his arms and go back to your car, but he tightened his grip.

“I got you now, so I’m not letting you go.” You buried your head in the crook of his neck and slowly the two of you made your way into the warm house. He led you through the dark hallways to his bedroom, giggling and sneaking kisses where you could.

You fell asleep so easily, the quickest you have the entire time you had lived in Ottawa. And it wasn’t only Tim’s warmth, or the way his sheets smell like hockey tape and his peppermint shampoo. You had finally opened yourself up. You had found that belonging your dad always wanted you to. And you found that in Tim; whether he knew it or not, he was home.

let me know what you think! thanks for reading!

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[lexpressobean]

I've been thinking about these 3 alot...

... and how much they seem to really respect Shino. I know it's a filler, but, like... Why does it seem like Shino has a knack for finding children who have wondered off away from school? Like, he's just taking a walk, making his way around the village or surrounding forest, and then there they are. Kids playing hooky or some shit. And Shino just takes it upon himself to approach them and steer them back to where they should be, while getting them attached to him somehow in the process??

But honestly. If this was just one of many times this had happened, I'd say Shino does this not out of his knack for teaching or having a way with kids. Rather, he developed a way with kids and easily applies that to his teaching because he has a strong desire to simply protect children. And it's not even from some paternal instinct as much as survival, because I think it stems from the developing trauma of losing Torune to Danzo. And I don't think it's all subconscious either.

Like I know the novel and anime frames his desicion to teach as a sort of a new goal in life as the war has ended for a couple years already and a noticable Peace has been achieved by the Blank Period and well... He's an Aburame.

Like, the Aburame are literal living, breathing, walking bioweapons. With no fight to utilize that, what else is there? Well, much like the Nara have the Nara forest and Pharmacology specifically, The Aburame most likely have a historical stake in the area of Konoha, perhaps it was simply in their Ancestral Home. Idk, but they're here to stay, they ain't budging. They're Clan Culture is very Martial and I'd argue Spartan in nature, but otherwise, they do other things too. I think they'd do well as major players in the conservation and research of native species of animals and plants, but definitely insects too. I bet they play a huge part in the general area's ecosystem, especially due to the fact that the Kamizuru clan attacked with a whole clan's worth of non-native Hymenoptera that could very well have become and still are an irritatingly and consistent problem as invasive species tend to be. And as a far as goods go, why not put some of them to use and handle an apiary? Honey is a great good to sell. All of this is great as a clan that no longer needs to fight. But, what about individual members in general, and so Shino?

Well Shino is the Heir of this clan. This Noble Clan. This "ready to throw hands at any moment" clan. It's future is in his hands, so to speak. So I doubt Shino would completely sever his connection to Shinobi life all together. And so, teaching at the Academy would be a great way to keep that connection. Teachers have to know their stuff, after all.

But what if in order to ensure teaching was his calling, Shino did his absolute best to make Jounin ASAP so he could take on a Genin Team. And. And by chance, it ended up being these three?? And they are absolutely STOKED!!! And they also pass Shino's genin test, which... would probably be a feat in it's own right. But they already know Shino, and Shino has bestowed upon them some wisdom they actually took to heart! Yeah, well, in reality they might be just a tad too old to be Shino's first official genin squad, but they were still his squad one point in a sense, right?

Kon Nohara, Tano Ikemoto, and Aoki Kobayashi

I even gave them names help Imagine these three are already chuunin at least and decide they want to pay Shino a visit and even volunteer to help Shino during class time on a collective day off because they admire him so much (T~T)

But even then if not these three kiddos, maybe these three li'l shits lol

Even in times of Peace, Shino's special set of skills seem too useful to waste, and being a Jounin teacher would definitely have been a way he could still go on missions, but also definitely commit to becoming a Sensei at the academy once he was 100% sure and got older. Kurenai became a Jounin/Genin Squad Leader in her late twenties, but in comparison I see Shino doing that more mid-20s. (He needs some time to travel and find his big bug friend and generally live a little?)

Kurenai was a Genjutsu Specialist who manned a Tracker/Sensing based team. This sounds like it was a highly beneficial combination, even if she ended up being somewhat sadistic lol. Asuma was bound to Team 10 by Tradition as InoShikaCho and Sarutobi have that Pact together. Kakashi's team was literally Cherry Picked for him specifically by the 3rd Hokage. And Gai, a Taijutsu Specialist, had a team that Specialized in Taijutsu and Physical Offense.

Of all four teams, Kurenai and Gai were very suited to their teams, Gai in a complimentary way and Kurenai in a Challenging way. In that same vein, I think Shino would imitate Gai. Shino as a Shinobi himself has a general set of skills, but the way he goes about them are very niche. But, he was always very stealthy, and could sneak up on nearly anyone. Gags aside, he could go unnoticed as long as he wanted too, and by the time he was noticed or was ready to attack, he has you quite literally surrounded. Honestly I can see why Search and Destroy would be an Aburame's forte, but when there's no need, a person with a personal skill of high quality stealth could probably man a team with an emphasis on Reconnaissance and/or Surveillance, even Bodyguarding. I feel like Shino would probably put an emphasis on Stealth and Tracking too, utilizing his insects as sort of assistants that keep tabs on his students (Stealth Test) as well as to encourage just enough fear during too much down time in his students to inspire quality training opportunities, so maybe Kurenai rubbed off on Shino more than they all realized haha

(Plus I'm sure his students would be be smart and thoughtful enough to eventually understand what Shino and his bugs are: a complete unit. They realize just how strong and dedicated Sensei really is to be the way he is, and they all learn more in depth about Kikaichu and it's like WOW SENSEI YOU REALLY ARE RISKING BEING EATEN ALIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY, AREN'T YOU? But he's still here, because THAT'S how strong he's become over the years and the confidence to manipulate the Kikaichu while having to think of current chakra level, the most efficient use at any given time, how many he actually needs, how long usage will last, ect. They are high maintenance, man!)

Shino would no doubt produce highly skilled Bodyguards and Masters of Stealth. Maybe the type that would end up being in high demand for the eventual Celebrities that start to pop up as times change, but still very much needed when it comes to Criminal Activity, like in Sora-Ku?

But as time passes and he decided to teach at the Academy, he'd feel very at ease to do so. He'd be happy to be put in charge of all these children, because he would be able to help teach them things they need to know to defend themselves and others in a world where adults like Danzo had and will continue to exist. Maybe while he's at it, he'd use his stance as a Noble Clan Heir and accomplished Shinobi to push for changes in government with Sai's help and with Naruto and Shikamaru's cooperation? Like, the truth does come out, everyone on the Council were actually horrible and had too much power. So HERE are some ideas and REASONS why these ideas should be implemented because Shino's not going to let his brother's life and death be in vain!? HELL no, we WILL make some changes around here. Shino sees his students and just wants a future where no kid ever has to live in fear of being completely taken advantage of by the very system that was supposed to keep them safe and they pledged allegiance to.

I cannot help but think of the quiet but absolute fear little Shino was harboring for the years to come after Torune was taken by that strange man and Father Shibi didn't even attempt to stop him. His own father didn't dare beat the shit out of this strange man who came looking for him, and the only solution for Shino to stay was for Torune to make himself look more desirable as an asset and be taken instead. I bet there was a lot of misplaced resentment there for a while, and talks that just didn't happen. Maybe a classmate doesn't show up to class one day and Shino is IMMEDIATELY stressed out and just... takes it upon himself to look for them after class. And he's relieved when he see they're simply at home with a fever. Shit like that just fucks with Shino, because theres people taking kids and no one is doing anything about it?? And then as Shino grew older he realized exactly what happened and how slimy the machine of Konoha really is and it was never completely Shibi's fault that Torune had to leave. He grows mentally at a faster rate than most of his classmates, and knows more than a kid really needs to know.

Shino doesn't want that for any other child. Shino is the kind of person who hears kids screaming outside of his house and he can't tell if they're playing or being murdered and it's stressful to the point he'll check through his window and he sees them for himself. He get stressed out seeing a kid in public unattended and WANTS to approach them to help if need be but also maybe he's overthinking it and the parents are there somewhere and he'd just end up looking suspicious. Like, that's what I kind of figure for Shino. He's so hyperaware of the power dynamic between kids and adults and seeing a kid so ready to fall victim to that makes Shino feel ill the more he thinks of what could happen. And he wonders if watching the kid in the market until they finally reunite with their parent so he could move on with the rest of his day causes him even a fraction of the the utterly disgusting flurry of nerves and fear that Shibi must have felt all those years ago. It goes along with his desire to spare every single little insect's life he can. It goes a long with the fact he only gets violent unless absolutely necessary. Like he wants to be strong but he doesn't want to go mad with power either, less he becomes the very thing that hurt him and his family in the first place.

Originally Shino wanted to become strong to be able to defend himself because at a very young age adults failed him and Torune. But then that changes to defend not only himself, but others as he grows on a team, and realizes trust is important. And then he figured if there must be adults out there that would hurt a child, it's only logical that he should become one that would only nurture and teach one to be strong as well.

Anyway, yeah. Had some feelings. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.