#and a couple that was meant to explore the idea of a couple living each other's gender roles in this series

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

AS FAST AS YOU CAN

KINKTOBER DAY 24 - OUTDOOR SEX WITH TOMMY SHELBY

Pairing.| Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary.| Your husband likes to play games to keep your marriage exciting. When you oppose against his wants, he thinks a game of predator and prey can soothe your disputes.

Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, predator and prey, outdoor sex, p in v, rough sex, breeding kink, postnatal depression, implied lactating kink, tommy's a dick lol.

Word count.| 2.7k

Notes.| This may have been my favourite to write, Tommy just screams predator and prey.

It was just another fun game for the happy couple. A way to keep the spark of adrenaline, excitement and desire for each other. To your husband, this was considered intimacy. The casual sex could get repetitive for him, don’t get Tommy wrong, he loved your body, worshiped it at every opportunity he got. But he wanted to feel alive with you, take every opportunity possible to explore new pleasures with you. To keep the sparkle of rigorousness in your marriage. 

Tommy Shelby was a sadist, your hand was forced into marriage and then you were sentenced with baring his children. You loved your two sons, Alastair and Henry, but feared them living cursed lives. You had heard so many malediction tales of the Shelby name. They were still babies, Alstair only turning one a month ago. Many nights you considered packing your bags and running away with your sons, but feared your husband’s wrath if you ever got caught. 

Only eight weeks postnatal, Tommy was pushing you for another, but you were far too resistant this time. The way your expression soured and lips wobbled as you began to express how you needed to wait, your body needed to properly heal from your first pregnancy. Your body was weak, you were ruined by the issues of bearing children. You needed a break after having one child after the other. To what he was quite aggressive over your resistance, he found himself rather content at the situation, an idea sprouting in his mind. 

On this cold, misty day at Arrow House, Tommy thought it was the perfect environment for another intimate activity between you both. It was hunting season, and what better than a game of predator and prey. But in reality, he wanted to torment you in ways you didn’t know were possible. Because no matter the terms and conditions of the game, it was always designed for him to win. 

“It’s a simple game darling, I desire another child, you do not” Tommy spoke confidently as you stood in front of the green field. 

You rubbed your shoulders in the cold gentle wind. It was foggy, the forest almost hidden in the distance. With a congested sniff of your nose, you looked up to your husband who was dressed appropriately for a hunting session, the rifle included. 

“If you can reach the main road through the woods before I catch you, I won’t impregnate you until you’re ready, I promise” Tommy explained, closing the distance between you with a wicked grin on his lips. 

“Then what’s the gun for!” you exclaimed, your body trembling as you watched his hands tighten around the weapon. 

“It’s just a prop my love! It’s hunting season! I’m just getting into the spirit, a predator eager to catch his prey” Tommy snickered, nose running up your neck as he breathed in your scent. 

“Please Tommy! I’m tired…” you begged pathetically, your body slouching as you held onto your husband in hopes of a change of heart. 

With his grin, you knew your words meant nothing. His free hand slipped around your waist, right down to squeeze your ass. You whined, tightening your grip on him as you tried to force your tears back in. 

“Want me to fill you with my seed now then?” Tommy whispered darkly into your ear. 

The thought of being pregnant again weighed you down.  No, you couldn’t be a slave to the torture of pregnancy. The agony and melancholy it had rained over your body was too much to bear again. The sleepless nights had to end. Tommy thought it was best for the maids to stay out of the process. He only wanted you both to be their providers. He did help out here and there, but he often would pass on the duties to you and hold you from behind as you tried to calm your sons. That’s when he was even home, Tommy was business obsessed. Sometimes you’d get hopeful that he was never going to be coming home. Prayed for the news that he got caught in the crossfires, but you always heard the engine of his car roar when you were almost convinced. 

“Okay, okay” you complied, defeated. 

“Good! If you win I’ll do whatever you want tonight, even if that’s sitting in the corner of the room like a naughty boy” Tommy smirked, patting your behind harshly. 

He explained how you’d have a five minute head start and how it was approximately a mile and a half run. Your hope began to shatter at those stats, you had hardly walked that distance straight since your first pregnancy. When was the last time you had even ran?

“A kiss for good luck” Tommy murmured before passionately kissing you. 

As he counted down the seconds, you whimpered heavily, eyes darting around as you felt like a deer caught in headlights. You bolted as fast as you could, quickly heaving, your heart pounding against your ribs as you didn’t notice how tight your throat was closing in. It was cruel, you weren’t dressed appropriately for this, wearing a maroon dress that restricted the movements of your legs and tight shoes that were easily rubbing against your skin. All for his own advantage, as if your physical capabilities weren't already enough. 

It’ll forever be unknown if Tommy stood true to his word, you were too afraid to look back. The adrenaline removed the timer in your head as you quickly disappeared in between the trees. Tommy smirked to himself as he held his rifle to his chest and ran after you. 

Swaying side to side, your body struggled to remain composed. Your core temperature made the forest feel like a furnace. When you fell against the tree, you pant out to attempt to catch your breath. You dared to look back, the bushes and trees remained still as before. The mist clouded the distance, you were still free from him. But his voice tormented you, calling out his name, somehow echoing through every area of the taunting woods.

You wouldn’t be able to outrun him, that much you knew. However, you could trick him, have him chase the finish line rather than yourself. For he never set a mark on the road. You slipped into the nearest ditch of dirt, curling your body up against the curving wall of earth. When you heard his heavy footsteps snap at the twigs and crush the leaves, you clamped your hand over your heaving mouth. 

Tommy called out your name and you could already visualize the sinister smile on his lips. “My love, where do you hide?” Tommy teased, already knowing that you were near. 

His footsteps neared, you were sure he was standing right above you as you squeezed your eyes shut, paralyzed by fear. A ramble in the distance of an animal caught his attention. Tommy flared his nostrils and quickly his footsteps faded. When the woods were filled with silence again, you crawled out of the ditch and continued your journey. 

You were cautious, your eyes darting around from every direction as you often found yourself hunching close to the ground. Tears watered the soil as you struggled to keep your emotions under control. The blisters on your feet had already formed. Your body ached almost as badly as it did during childbirth, you needed to rest. Minutes quickly passed, you thought you were lost. But then, you could see the main road behind the trees. Just over fifty meters away from you. 

“My love! There you are!” Tommy’s voice boomed as he appeared out of thin air in the distance. There was this similar crazed look on his face, which never ended up in your favor as he held onto the rifle firmly. 

You shrieked and bolted for your life, not necessarily desiring the finish line, but only to get as far away as him as possible. Tommy guffawed your name as his brisk steps grew onto your tail. Fearfully, you cried out, your sounds of distress echoed throughout the forest.  

When Tommy lunged for your loose hair, he miscalculated the distance and missed, tripping over a root and crashing onto the dirt ground in the process. You dared to look back, but shamelessly found yourself grinning at his unfortunate tumble. He snarled out the dirt from his mouth, his head shot up as he saw you closing in on the finish line.

You smiled, you were going to win, finally. 

The gunshot made you fall to the ground a mere few meters away from the road. Your hands patted over your body, your blood pumping a mixture of adrenaline and shock. There were no wounds on your body and you dared to look back. 

Striding towards you like a beast, Tommy had a frightening look locked on underneath the specs of dirt. His knuckles were turning white around his rifle as he looked like he was ready to eat you alive. Thoughtlessly, you were scooting back over the dirt ground, heading straight towards the road. 

“Get over here, right now!” Tommy roared, a vein popping out of his forehead. 

“Tommy?” You whimpered, head darting back and forward from the road.

The road was only a meter away from you. Swiftly, Tommy aimed his rifle at you and you froze still. You gulped down the lump in your throat, lip wobbling.  

“Next shot goes through your leg my love” he warned with a grin. 

You whimpered his name once more as he towered over you. The rifle lowered to his side as he tilted his head towards you. As the rifle fell to the ground, Tommy pounced on top of you, pushing you flat onto your back. His nose inhaled your scent as he pressed his lips to your neck, you were frozen underneath him. 

“Mhmmm, I win” Tommy chuckled, his kisses running up to your face. 

Whining out, you shook your head viciously as you squirmed underneath him. “No! No! I was going to win!” You argued, your voice full of hurt.

“Should have walked the distance then!” Tommy cackled, his hands roughly roaming over your dress. 

“You threatened to shoot me! You said it was a prop!” You hissed. 

“I would never do such a thing! Not my fault you fell for it” he said smugly with a roll of the shoulders, his brute hands massaging your swollen breasts. 

A wave of pure anger crashed over you. Before you could even process it, you punched him in the jaw. His hand snapped to the side and he remained still. The redness on his pale skin quickly grew. Within a blink of the eye, Tommy maneuvered you onto your stomach, your acts of resistance always felt like a mouse battling a cat. You yelped out in pain as he twisted your arms behind your back. 

“Please Tommy! I don’t know what I was thinking!” You shrieked, blabbering at the feeling of his heavy bulge poking against your ass. 

“That’s exactly right… You shouldn’t be thinking at all…” Tommy whispered into your ear as he slowly freed his throbbing cock. 

“No-no, please” you squeaked out, close to hyperventilation.  

But it was pointless, Tommy had won yet again and was too eager not to gloat his win. For if a wolf were to catch a deer, would he take it home before devouring it? Your dress was scrunched up and you gasped as the cold air teased your skin. With a swift movement, he shoved his thick member into your entrance. You grumbled out in pain, Tommy shoved your face into the dirt as he pounded himself inside of you. 

“Your mind will go perfectly blank again when you’ve been bred, I miss the way you’d stare blankly out the window” Tommy sighed in satisfaction as your body went limp below him. 

“Tommy please! Another month! Just give me another month!” You cried out, your body trembled on the ground. 

“Darling, it’s easier if we just get it out of the way now…” Tommy moaned quietly as his arm slipped down to your clit.

The way your walls would squeeze his length made you feel sick in times like these. It fueled his beliefs that you enjoyed his sick and twisted games of his. He held up your hips, balls slapped against your sensitive flesh, animalistic grunts left his lips. You mewled out his name. 

“Quiet my little wife, quiet” Tommy ordered, his eyes rolling back. “You stress yourself out too much, let me do everything, let me take care of you” he explained as he leant down to kiss your heated cheek. 

Tommy coached you to keep on squeezing him, just how he liked it as he rutted into you. In return, he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Quickly, your eyes rolled back as you whimpered out in pleasure, back arched and cunt squeezing as tightly as possible. Tommy groaned out, his movement’s suddenly stilling as he shot his seed deep inside of you. Tommy gleefully smiled out, it had felt like an eternity since he came inside of you. 

As you panted out, ears blocked and sight still blurry, you realized Tommy was talking to you. 

“A little baby girl, doesn’t that sound nice?” Tommy asked softly, his cock still buried deep inside of you. 

“A girl” you smiled weakly, mind still dazed from your post orgasm state. 

“Yeah… A girl, she’d be as beautiful as you, eh?” he complimented, his hand rubbed over your lower back as he slipped his size out of your dripping hole. 

“No” you mumbled. 

“No?” 

“I’m not beau-” 

Your body is flipped back over. Tommy glared down at you as he read your pained expression behind the dirt. Quietly, he tutted at you as he shook his head. 

“Fuck, I’m really going to have to fuck these stupid thoughts out of your head, ain’t I?” Tommy cooed as he found his cock twitching in the cold air. 

“Look at me Tommy” you whimpered, eyes swelling up as you looked down at your body. Disgust washed over you, you felt sticky, as if you were covered in grease. 

“I am my love, you’re emotional over nothing, just calm down and feel me okay? My poor wife, you have that sadness don’t you?” Tommy soothed you in a condescending yet comforting tone. You murmured out his name, your arms snaking around his back to pull him closer to you. Gradually, Tommy slipped himself back into your sore walls, you mumbled out but showed no resistance. “Shush… I’ll fix you, just squeeze my cock for now, that’s all you have to think about” Tommy smiled softly, his pace picking up. 

“Tommy, I-I” you moaned, eyes fluttered and lips spread open. 

“Show me how badly you want to be bred”  Tommy grunted out, his nostrils flared and hips pistoning in and out of you. Naturally, your walls firmly tightened around his member. Tommy’s body craved yours so badly, it was torture having to wait for you to heal. Many times he wanted to devour you completely. Take your mouth or backside to relive his desire, but he wasn’t cruel like you claimed him to be. “Oh fuck, fuck… Missed your warmth so fucking bad…” Tommy almost whined out as he felt his balls begin to tighten. “Yeah, that’s it…” Tommy moaned, his eyes rolled back as he came inside of you for a second time. 

He collapsed on top of you, his face buried into the crook of your name as he murmured your name. Tommy held you tightly as you silently wept, the realization crashing down on you intensely. Eventually, Tommy slid out his softening dick and slipped himself back into his pants. 

“Tommy it’s cold” you sniffled as he stood up and brushed off his face and clothing. 

Tommy sighed as he helped you up, he brushed the dirt off of yourself and patted your cheek softly. As you rubbed your arms, your shoulders curled in, Tommy slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. 

“There you go my little wife” Tommy smiled and gave you a peck on the lips as he tugged the coat straight. “Come on, the boys must be hungry, I sure am” Tommy grinned, his hands tracing over the outline of your breasts as he licked his lips.

[aro-culture-is]

What is a QPR and why are aros attracted to it /gen, I’m new to all of this and I want to learn.

QPR = QueerPlatonic Relationship.

This is a term that explicitly has a vague definition, because it is meant to encompass many things. That said, the definition I think is most useful is "a relationship which queers the culturally normative platonic relationship". Yes, this is broad, yes, it can apply to all sorts of folks and situations that probably don't use the term, and yes, it's not very explanatory by itself.

But. The point of this term is to be open to describing a lot of things for those who find it useful. Originating in a-spec communities, the idea of a QPR is typically a long-term, committed relationship that is not romantic, may or may not be sexual, and may be platonic, but not in a way that typical friendships are seen as.

For example: an aromantic person and an aro-spec friend of theirs are close. They intend to move in together, live together, and for all intents and purposes, make major decisions together which are typically viewed as things married couples do (like buying a house, moving for jobs, adopting pets). They do not feel romantic attraction to each other, but they wouldn't do this with just any friend of theirs. They have a close bond, and it's not really understood by a lot of folks around them, who may, depending on the genders of the individuals involved, be assumed to be (romantically) together and inept at romance, be together but poorly closeted, be poor poor bachelors who will never get a girl that way... all sorts of stuff, and a lot of the assumptions place a "that's not entirely platonic" bent on it. Thus: queer.

There's been debate about QPRs in all sorts of ways over the years, some in good faith, some not, some productive in exploring our assumptions, and some which deeply hurt and ostracized other members of our community. Some of these remnants of debates are popular to run into - some may refer to QPRs as halfway between romantic and platonic, some may insist that there should be a separate term for sexual or non-sexual QPRs (broadly, consensus was that this was an unacceptable division, redefining a term used to mean both from the beginning, usually a discussion in poor faith by either a sex-negative and/or sex-repulsed individual), and some may attack the way that this term doesn't require all individuals involved to be queer. Truthfully, my advice as someone who's identified as aromantic for a little over a decade?

Always leave space for people to have their terms, but never, ever enforce those terms on others. If a term is useful to the individual(s) involved, fantastic! If it fits them to a T, but they don't like it? Don't use it for them! Frankly, view that as similar to misgendering - they've now explicitly said they don't want to be called that. Just... be nice.

Lastly, for reasons I don't quite recall, people in QPRs used to be called zucchinis as a cutesy thing. The relationship itself was a QPR, and the people were each other's zucchini. :)

[phantomrose96]

Aromantically rotating this quote from Jon "The Silt Verses" Ware from the Season 2 Q&A (bold emphasis mine)

Question: I love what Paige and Hayward have going on. How would you describe their dynamic? ​ JON: I saw someone online talk about the, “the paladin and the prophet.” Which I think is a really nice way of looking at it! Whereas I saw them as two people who…both of them have come to the end of the road in their old lives. [...] I think maybe there’s also an implicit question there about whether there’s something romantic going on – maybe I’m reading into it, but that is something that’s on my mind a lot, so I’d love to talk about it more. ​ Because shipping is fantastic and it’s wonderful and it’s cool, but as a writer who’s way too online in a parasocial world, I’m really wary of how I respond to it and how I process it. ​ I personally, I don’t like writing fictional characters where the most important moment in their narrative arcs is when they get together with the person they were always meant to get together with. Generally, it’s just a bugbear of mine in fiction and I’m not sure I agree with the underlying message. ​ But I think if any writer who’s way too online sees, hey, people are getting excited about these two characters hooking up and falling in love and they keep coming back to this idea of them hooking up and falling in love, there’s a real rodent voice in the back of your head whispers, "give the people what they want. Get those likes, get that fanart." ​ Which is the wrong response! Because we don’t understand that maybe people are just having fun exploring these characters or their own interpretations of these characters, we think they must be anticipating a pay-off from us. ​ And again, I think it can send you in the wrong direction, one that ends up being essentially flattening – we don’t think, "if these characters hook up, OK, what new opportunities does that give us to explore them, to understand them in greater depth?" Instead we think we need to perform a climactic moment of love and comfort and happiness to get the audience’s approval. Which can be very much to the detriment of the complexity of the characters, but also, afterwards, where do you go with it? ​ And after we released maybe one episode of The Silt Verses, I saw a couple of folks online going ‘oh, god, I hope this isn’t going to end with Carpenter and Faulkner hooking up,’. And you go, "oh my god, I hadn’t considered that as a possibility for a second, that’s not who they are and that’s not what the relationship is here" - but of course all of us are primed for it, that enemies-to-lovers thread that is so common. ​ [...] ​ So it felt like I could introduce a connection there [with Paige and Hayward] and we could see a different way that they begin to be around each other that hopefully feels like it’s adding new dimensions to both of the characters without me looking over my shoulder going, “Am I in danger of turning this into something a bit stock by turning it into quite a straightforward romantic situation?”

[colleybri]

Cassian x Bix and Rebelcaptain: Please let these ships be friends !

I ‘ship’ Cassian x Bix AND Cassian x Jyn. I see there has been some conflict in the past when the “new woman” was first brought in with the series, some that remains now, and I’m both saddened and bemused by that.

Rebelcaptain for me is a canon relationship… to a certain extent. I have no doubt that these brave heroes would have ended up together had they lived. That’s why I love it… the whole beautiful tragedy of what might have been, and the loyalty that binds people together when making a sacrifice like this. Were they actually in love, in canon? For me – no. Not yet. And that’s important for my personal enjoyment of Rogue One, especially its ending. As the novelisation stresses, Cassian dies without knowing Jyn as “There wasn’t the time”. And I simply don’t believe you can love someone without knowing them . But I enjoy the idea of exploring what would have happened had they lived. They are a perfect loyal “battle couple”, definitely my favourite fanon SW couple and great to imagine together. I see Rebelcaptain also as a way of giving them the happy ending they deserved. Oh - and the chemistry between Felicity Jones and Diego Luna on-screen is absolutely electric. In short and again: I have no doubt that they would have fallen in love had they lived and would have been perfect for each other. And they are a perfect fanon ship.

(^^ And I I think this is the exact moment in canon when they both acknowledge the loss of what might have been. It’s just heartbreakingly beautiful… )

Cassian x Bix - I don’t even think of it as a ‘ship’ per se as it is a 100% canon relationship, and one that is currently ongoing as we wait for Andor S2.. It’s fascinating to me – 17 years of friendship that has occasionally blossomed into a romantic/sexual relationship. It’s a genuinely unusual set up too. I’ve read a few takes that they are “over each other” by the time of the start of the series, to which I want to say … watch again, closely! They certainly have moved on to date different people, but it’s also very clear from their interactions (especially in the intense scene in Ep 7) that there is still a lot of extremely deep feeling between them – even if some of it is very negative. In the S1 production notes, the show’s creator Tony Gilroy says that they “are meant to be together… but it’s been impossible all these years. Now, she’s done with him … he’s burnt every last bridge .” Why? The series also provides the answer – Cassian is in many ways an absolute mess at the start of the season and Bix was quite rightly fed up with him as a boyfriend. He’s completely unreliable, likes short-lived affairs (often with married women - so no risk of commitment!), isn’t working regularly and has debts all over the place. This largely stems from his “unresolved childhood trauma”. He has a fear of “leaving people behind” and despite having a lot of love to give “ is so scared of being loved”. But he and Bix nonetheless prove to be incredibly loyal friends and their love in this platonic sense clearly runs very deep indeed. They have known each other since he was 10 so she is also something like a sister figure. Bix is still very protective of Cassian and takes personal risks for him… and he finally comes to appreciate this and pay back his metaphorical debt to her in the finale. The question now is what season 2 holds for them, if anything.

(^^ I love the way she is using her fingertips to push his hand off, as if to avoid the risk of too much touch. The gesture and look that says “Please don’t try and get close to me again because we both know how bad that is for us… but I’m such a total idiot when it comes to you that I will still very unwisely go out of my way to help you, especially when you look at me like that so please just don’t”)

Does loving their messy and complicated relationship mean that I want Cassian and Bix to ‘end up together’ ? No, and the obvious additional point is that they don’t! They are both going to be very different people at the start of S2 and over the following years of the story . Bix has been traumatised; Cassian has been radicalised. And that’s just the start. Perhaps they quickly drift apart. Perhaps some kind of betrayal is involved. Perhaps one or both of them will want to commit again to a relationship, but it’s impossible because of the demands of the rebellion (like Vel /Cinta). Perhaps Bix “ends up with” someone else (Brasso, ideally, especially if they both survive the season). Perhaps they will get back together at least for a while and enjoy a little last happiness before inevitable heartbreak. Perhaps all, some or none of these. But none of that stops me from loving and appreciating what they do have, what they have had up to now, and the intriguing dynamics of when they do interact on screen. Bix x Cassian attracts me as a fanfic ship because it’s all about exploring what is there and how it came to be, which is why I currently don’t write them beyond the present time of season 1. I’m waiting to see what happens next in Canon, as it were, because that to me is an important part of writing them. Meanwhile, I’m enjoying analysing the relationship by imagining them in the past.

So for me Bix x Cassian in no way impacts on Jyn x Cassian or vice versa, especially if you apply… real life principles rather than the ideals of fandoms: ��soulmates” and OTPs. Many people – most people – will have a beautifully intense and loving relationship with more than one person at different times of their lives. I’m old – trust me on this one.

^^ Both relationships in these two scenes go way beyond romance. In the first - many years of close and loyal friendship. In the second: a bond created through brave and selfless sacrifice together. And for both: Cassian’s absolute hatred of being “someone who leaves people behind”: the quality that I love best about him. And saving each other. Literally and metaphorically.

And oh… it’s beautiful. Both moments are beautiful.

Edit: I won’t do any speculating here about the content of the trailers and articles. Except to say that there’s nothing in them that detracts from the emotional power of both ships. They can continue to happily coexist. 

[entitled-fangirl]

Adjustment.

Pelle x American!reader

Summary: Three summers ago, Y/n became a part of the Harga. With Pelle returning for midsummer with American friends, she begins to rethink her life here.

Warnings: MANIPULATION TO THE MAX Y'ALL!!! But if you've seen Midsommar then you already knew that I guess. This is a dark one so discretion is advised.

A/n: To the anon that asked for this- I HAVE DELIVERED! This is the first fic since like June that hasn't been GoT related, so it was a nice change of pace, despite that it's just Pelle manipulating the reader

Masterlist

..................................................

She watched Pelle approach, a radiant smile coming over her face. "Pelle!"

The man's head shot up, and his eyes brightened, his arms opening wide. She ran to him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, one around her waist, the other in her hair. "Oh, how I have missed you."

"I promise I've missed you more. You've gotten to explore, and I've been stuck here without you."

"I trust you have adjusted well," He mentioned as he pulled away, his hands coming to cradle her face. 

"As much as I can. You've brought others?"

Only then did he remember the others. "Ah, right." He turned and pulled her to his side, gesturing to each person. "These are my friends. Josh, Mark, Christian, and uh, Dani." His thumb rubbed at her waist, "Everyone, this is Y/n. She is uh, my spouse, of sorts."

Mark's brows came together. "Like, you're married?"

Josh chipped in. "You didn't mention that."

"No, no," Pelle assured. "Here, we do not believe in the typical marriage that others do. She is my one. But we are all of one family, so legal marriage seems unneeded."

"I see," Josh nodded.

"It is lovely to meet you all," she chimed. "You are American, no?"

"Yeah," Christian agreed. "You're uh, you are too?"

She grinned. "Yes. A dear friend of mine was from here, and she brought me along for midsummer a few years ago. I met Pelle, and the rest is but chance."

"More than chance," Pelle beamed. "She is a beauty, is she not?"

"This friend of yours that brought you," Josh mentioned, "Is she here?"

Her face fell a bit. "No. No, uh. She has died."

Pelle was quick to comfort her. "Her pain is our pain. And you know her life was well lived. There is no death in life, huh?"

"No," she agreed. She quickly fixed her upset features. "Ingmar has made a tea, if you wish for it."

Pelle hummed. "That is quite the idea." He turned to the others. "That would help relax us, yes?"

She pulled from his arms and moved to Dani. "Perhaps us women may speak of finer things. I would enjoy the company."

Dani's eyes pulled into a worried expression that she tried to hide. "Oh. That… That would be nice. I've been in a car with four guys for hours. I'd like the change of pace."

Y/n smiled. "Then it is settled. Pelle?" She asked, turning to him.

His head tilted in an admiring way. "Of course. My company is lovely, but I'm sure Dani would appreciate that."

They watched the men walked off, no doubt going to get high and stare at the grass for the next couple hours. 

"I miss it, you know," Y/n admitted.

"What?"

"America." She looked out over the mostly empty field. "The sun shines differently here. And… I miss the color."

"It's beautiful here," Dani tried to ease.

"Yes, but I meant," she trailed off, gesturing at Dani. "The clothes. I miss my shirts and the pants I had."

"Is that all you wear? The white?"

"Hm?" She looked down at her dress. "Yes. But I have the stitching in both blue and red."

Dani chuckles lightly. "I don't think I could live without sweatpants."

"It gets easier after a while. Pelle promised to bring back books for me. I have not adjusted as well as he was hoping. I know it worries him."

Dani nodded. "He did bring some books. I admit, I didn't want to pry him about why, but that makes sense now."

"He really did? Oh, what kind? And… and how many? Are they popular ones? In America, I mean?"

Dani's eyes widened. "Oh, uh. I don't know. I didn't really look."

She forced her excitement down. "Right. Right. Well, enough of me. Please. I want to know about you," she smiled as she began to lead them down the path to the Harga.

Dani shrugged and put her hands in her pockets as she walked. "Um, let me think. There's not that much to know, really."

"You're in college, aren't you?"

"Yeah. But I'm not in anthropology like the guys-"

"-hmmm. That's odd," she mused. "I studied anthropology as well. For a year or two, anyway."

"Oh," Dani remarked, trying to smile at that. "That is kinda strange. Small world, I guess."

"Yeah. Strange…"

…

Quite a few hours later, the boys stumbled their way into the Harga, Pelle slightly more conscious than the others. He immediately crossed the field, hugging his relatives along the way as he went.

Upon seeing them again, Y/n ushered Dani back over to them.

The more Dani had talked, the more Y/n was beginning to grow concerned about the Harga. 

Like maybe she should have trusted her mind in the first place all those summers ago.

"So many thoughts in your mind," Pelle chimed as he approached her. "I could feel them across the field."

"Dani told me you've brought books," she immediately admitted, not bothering to try to do small talk with him.

Pelle gave a soft chuckle at her eagerness. His hands cupped her cheeks. "I did. Just a few. I know it is not quite everything you want, but I could not bring an entire library. Not when there is so much here for you to still understand."

She couldn't hide the light disappointment in her eyes. It had been such a long year without Pelle. The people of the Harga were comforting and understanding, but there still were the few that stared at her during dinners, like they could read the growing fight in her heart.

She missed home so much. And everyone knew it.

It worried Pelle to no end. 

That's why he brought small things to help her adjust. Books, magazines, art, each summer visit back to the Harga included Pelle's way of reminding her that the rest of the world existed.

Just outside of her reach.

Last summer had been the worst when her friend had offered herself as a sacrifice. Y/n begged Pelle to let her join his travel back to the States.

"I'll be good! I can… I'll do anything! Just don't leave me," she pleaded, her hands in tight fists that gripped his clothing. "I can't do this again."

Pelle gave her a pitying look. It pained him so much to do this to her, but he knew the moment she made it back in the States, he'd lose her. It was not something he was willing to bargain.

"It is only for a few months," he tried to ease. His voice always managed to sooth her. "I am almost done with all of my classes, then I'll return back home. Forever. You just have to be patient." He tilted her head up, ignoring the ugly tear streaks across her cheeks. "Can you do that? Be patient for me?"

"I… I'm feeling sick," she admitted to him. Her mind was so flooded with conflicting thoughts that a headache had began to form.

"How awful," he cooed, his hand rubbing at the back of her head. "Surely they can manage without you for the day. I will walk you to bed."

"No," she covered. "I'm rather hungry-"

That sparked his need to provide for her. "I will go and get you something. I'll bring it to your bed." He kissed her forehead. "Go on."

"Can Dani walk me?" She asked.

Pelle's brows pulled together as he looked from her to Dani. He wanted to say no, but he couldn't understand why exactly. "Okay."

Once the two women got away from the group and into the large building, Y/n grabbed Dani by her biceps. "You have to leave," she warned lowly.

"W-What?" 

"If you stay, you'll stay forever," she cried. "I can't- I can't go home. I've begged. And they'll kill me if they find out I've told you. Please. You have to leave."

"Y/n-"

"-Please!" She cried again. "You must trust me!"

"But Pelle understands we're just visiting."

"I was just visiting," she pointed out. "Until I wasn't. Pelle is a small silver lining in a dumpster of shit. Promise me you'll try."

Dani ran a hand through her hair. "H-How?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "And you can't let them know what you're thinking. They're smarter than they look."

"Alright. Let's just get you in bed for now. We'll talk when you feel better."

"Dani, I'm not crazy. Please-"

"I know." Dani tried to ease. "Let's just get you in bed."

Dani tucked the woman in, making sure all was right before promising to return later to check on her. As she left, she almost ran into one of the older members of the Harga. "Oh. Excuse me."

"She's sick, that one," the older woman, Irma, mused. "We've tried to help her. But her mind is quite plagued. You understand, yes?"

"I…" Dani hesitated. Everything was still so new that she didn't know who to trust, and it was clear that this woman didn't trust her. "Yeah," she lied. "We all say things when we're sick."

…

Pelle came in not long after, Irma catching him on his path and speaking to him in a low voice and handing him a small pouch. Pelle's face dropped at whatever the lady said before nodding and going on with his mission, the skip in his step now gone.

"I've brought you some stew," he chirped when he stepped to Y/n's bed. "Ulla tells me that has been your favorite as of late."

She sat up with a groan, watching Pelle set it at her bedside. She moved to speak, but he beat her to it.

"The elders… they don't think you should speak to Dani anymore." He sat on the side of her bed with his body facing her, though his head was down to avoid eye contact with her. "And after hearing what you said, I have to agree."

Ice poured down her veins, pausing the headache. "Pelle-"

"I think I have been too lenient with you," he admitted in a whisper, like even he didn't want to say it.

"No, listen to me-"

"I know adjusting has been difficult, but have we not been a home for you? Have I not been enough?"

She reached out to his sleeve, tugging on it. "You've been wonderful, I'm the one with the problems."

How easily she was manipulated.

"I think," he muttered, finally looking up at her. "I should stop connecting you with… outside influences."

"No!" She begged. "No, Pelle, you can't! Please!"

"The books, the art, I'll have someone come collect them tomorrow." He sighed and watched himself pick at his nails. "I knew it was a poor idea the moment I started it."

Hot tears fell down her cheeks as she continued tugging on his sleeve in a desperate attempt to make him reconsider. "I need connection, Pelle-"

"That is what they are talking about," he pointed out. "Connecting you to all of these things, making you feel like you are missing out, it is harmful to your little mind." He ran a hand over her hair as he said so. "It has made you dislike your home here." He stood. "And maybe I am the one to blame. I let you hang on to your old life. I should not have." He rubbed at his forehead in thought. "So I must apologize for this."

"What do y-" her sentence stopped in the middle as her eyes widened. "Don't take me away!"

"My American friends need to sleep here, and since we cannot have both you and them here at night, it is easier to relocate you. Perhaps a talk with Siv and a private room for a while will help this."

"No," she begged. "No, Pelle! NO! Not Siv, don't make me!" She cried in a desperate tone.

He sat again, sighing deeply and running a hand over her cheek in a calm manner. In a caring way. Like maybe he truly wouldn't make her. Like he may go back on his word. "It pains me to do so," he sighed. "So very much." His eyes searched hers, the deep blue irises studying her from the inside out, trying to find a way to be merciful yet firm. "Only until you have learned better."

He reached down to the small pouch he was given by Irma earlier, taking a pinch of the powder in it and holding it out in his hand in front of her. 

She tried to move away, but Pelle's blow was quick enough to send the powder into her face. She coughed immediately, prompting a large breath in and her eyes glazed over. 

Pelle caught her head gently, taking extra care when laying her down. 

…

When Y/n didn't show the next day, Dani finally got the nerve to ask Pelle where she was.

Pelle turned with a reassuring smile. "She had other matters. She will return soon, I'm sure." 

Dani nodded and pretending to forget about it. But the girl's words ran clearly in her head. 

They needed to leave.

.......................................................

[freedomfireflies]

I would love to read a blurb from you about H taking care of his newborn baby boy 🥺

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

Harry’s hands shake as he slowly reaches down into the bassinet to retrieve the tiny human screaming for his attention and care.

Truth be told, he’s honestly not sure which one of them he’s telling not to cry.

Nevertheless, the squirmy infant begins to wiggle in his large palms as he brings the child up toward his chest.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, you’re all right,” he whispers, doing his best to speak in his most soothing tone. “Another nightmare, huh? S’okay, I get it. I get them, too.”

There’s some wet cooing as Harry cups the child’s bottom and tucks them just under his chin, right over his racing heart. 

He’d read that skin-on-skin contact is crucial for newborns to create a strong bond, so now he spends a majority of his time shirtless just in case the child needs that added comfort.

And if Harry is being honest with himself, he probably gets more comfort out of it than the baby.

After a moment, the fussing begins to subside, and Harry exhales the deep breath that had been caught in his lungs as he unwinds. Then, he moves for the rocking chair in the corner of the room, gingerly taking a seat as the baby begins to fidget in his hold.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, swaying them back and forth. “It’s all right, I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you.”

The sweet baby brings its tiny thumb to its mouth, tucking it between small, pouted lips as it begins to settle.

“There you go,” Harry says, lashes fluttering as he looks down. “I know, it’s hard to sleep without her. Especially when it’s all you’ve ever known…”

There’s a catch in Harry’s throat as he glances back up, eyes falling to the side of the bed where she used to lay. 

It’s been three weeks. Only three weeks since Harry had to come home from the hospital alone, and he has absolutely no idea how he’s made it this far.

He doesn’t sleep. Which isn’t unusual for new parents, but it goes deeper than that. He doesn’t sleep because he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to sleep in a bed she’s no longer in.

And he doesn’t eat, either. Because he can’t stand to go into the same kitchen she used to love. The same kitchen she used to spend each of her Sunday mornings in as she cooked them pancakes and listened to French music.

He doesn’t go out. He doesn’t leave their house. He’s a stranger to the outside world and apart from when his mother comes over to babysit, he doesn’t talk to anyone.

It’s just him and the baby now.

And he doesn’t exactly want that to change. He doesn’t want to lose these moments because at least he can pretend that he still has her.

She’s everywhere. Her memory lives within this house. Within their child. He can see her in the baby’s eyes. In the way it tries to smile or reach out and grab onto his thumb when it needs him close by.

And it breaks his heart because their baby will never hear the sound of her laugh or feel her reassuring touch.

He has no idea if he’ll be enough. If he can give this child the life it deserves or the love he knows she would have given them. 

He can only do what she would want him to.

His best.

“She loved you so much,” Harry whispers, cheek pressing into the baby’s head. “So, so much. The last thing she ever did was hold you and tell you she loved you. You were the most important thing in the world to her.”

The child only coos as it slips back into a dream-like state, still curled up against Harry’s bare chest as he rocks them back and forth.

Harry smiles. “It’s you and me now, okay? Us against the world. Us. Always.”

He means that more than he's ever meant anything in his life.

And that’s a promise he doesn’t plan to break.

It's short, I know, but I AM planning a second part so I can explore all the other amazing ideas you guys sent in, I promise!!

Thank you again so much to the original anon, and I hope you don't mind that I changed a couple tiny details! 😭💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[beemovieerotica]

Hadestown is NOT bad explain yourself this instant

ok so. it felt very concept album, like it still had a ways to go until it was a fully fledged production. they had the idea of the railroad station and the whole mining town aesthetic, but it was kind of window dressing to the story and didn't really mean much beyond imparting vibes and accompanying the genre of music they chose.

there was the whole theme of industry and greed from hades which i guess was an attempt to create political relevance but it didn't fit snugly anywhere? we're supposed to just understand that hades is a bad man who is doing bad things because he's bad - and then this creates the predicaments that eurydice and persephone find themselves in.

so basically the industry & modernization didn't have a purpose in itself, it was just a set-up for other things to happen narratively. i don't think they had to stick with the original myth or anything like that at all, they can make hades whomever they want, but i feel like i had to fill in the gaps in my head for all the character motivations to understand why they were doing the things they did. the hades / eurydice bit just happened and then was never addressed again, it seemed like something they threw in just to say "look, the capitalist boss also uses people for sex" - again, just to make a point to the audience but it didn't mean anything in the story.

so it did click with "oh! hades is creating warmth and brightness down below because he misses persephone's warmth and brightness, but he's doing it in a way that is harsh and glaring and deeply misguided and destructive, and it deprives the surface of trees and it pollutes the living things that persephone cares so much about, so he's ultimately driving her away by trying to replace her..." but they...did not explore that. they did not get into the deeper meaning and themes behind what was happening in either song or dialogue. i found myself kind of taken out by some of the lyrics just at the simplicity / cliche, i was wondering if it would go deeper at all and it really didn't for me. and then persephone and hades made up instantly at the end? just with a hand hold and a couple of meaningful words / looks? like there was so much potential to have some gut punch moments of meaning and heartache and reconciliation between them, and it just didn't transpire, like they ran out of time at the end.

so they seemed to have gotten halfway through developing the characters; all i know about eurydice is that she was cold and hungry. and hungry and cold. orpheus was a little bit more of a person at least in terms of making him a "head in the clouds" character, but they wanted to use shortcuts to just get to the love story without spending time on it. i get that inclination because, yeah on one hand it's a classical myth and we can accept that they just fell in love and all of it unfolded from there...but if you're going to stage it and make a musical at all, then why not explore how they fell in love, who they were, and what they actually meant to each other? there was no dimension to it and it just relied on the audience's acceptance of "this is how things happened in the myth."

i'm not completely sure what was going on with the wall other than it being another appeal to topical politics---and i don't like pedantry in media analysis BUT they chose to craft all of this in a deliberate way and they established multiple times that their world worked this way, so i have to ask the question: if there are supernatural forces that keep people from going in and out of hell on a whim.........what's the point?

like they were hovering between the subtext of "shhh this is actually busywork to convince the people that their labor is valuable" and "actually we want to keep people from trying to leave because it sucks here" with the latter contradicting their established rules of the world; all while hades is textually saying "we don't want people taking what we have" but people COULD just kill themselves to get down there anyway and be allowed through the wall. which eurydice did. which all dead people get to do. which makes me circle back to the conclusion of, yeah, some of these songs / plot devices got thrown in as a "this is so relevant wink wink hi audience" moment rather than actually enriching or making sense in the world of the story.

specifically for the broadway production, i can count on one finger the number of times the set was used in an interesting way [the crack in the wall]. it was very black box theater and i'm not opposed to minimalism, but it only works if there's something very engaging and compelling going on with the characters and the performances themselves, and a lot of the blocking & dancing was just not...interesting to look at. they moved chairs and tables around. god i would have loved if the final moment between orpheus and eurydice actually used the original lines where they say "You looked back" / "I missed you" like it would have meant something but they just had this weird tendency throughout to not lean into full emotional dialogue.

tldr; i think the vibes and intentions were good but it was messy narratively and the depth of character development and songwriting wasn't there for me. i think the Fates served cunt at every turn and i loved them, though i would have liked them to be used much more to really deliver those gut punches i was expecting but didn't get from the story. i'm a snob. sorry.

[0zzysaurus]

I don’t know too much about Wreck-Gar but I love him and his Tv talk, and Hotrod/Rodimus is underrated so uh…*looks at you with my big eyes from around the corner

Everything, I wanna know,,,

THANK GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To be fair, I chose a bad time to ask for asks because mannnn the WORK I need to be doing right now… I’ll throw out some silly headcanons I have :]]

• So I generally ship them kinda platonically? Kinda not. They’re besties in my eyes. Absolute ride-or-die best friends til the end. May that friendship occasionally involve a little bit of making out, as totally-just-best-friends tend to do? Perhaps… May it involve a little bit of uhhh, let’s say exploration? Possibly… I mean, name a pair of best friends that don’t bone each other after one too many Energon cubes and a long night of giddily enjoying one another’s company? Exactly.

• Junkions in my mind are so crazy with the public displays of affection it’s wild. They’re hugging and kissing and dancing with total strangers in TF1986, you’re telling me they aren’t going ham on each other? I don’t have to repeat myself about the planet-wide polycule thing with Wreck-Gar the leader at the top of the pecking order, but I do think that the hivemind mentality may have ramifications for Wreckrod as a ship. By that I mean, I think Wreck’s very special friendship with Hot Rod may also translate to the rest of the clan. If Hot Rod had to say it himself, “This is my boyfriend, and my boyfriends one hundred thousand sparkmates who protect me with their lives.” I have very complex thoughts about how the Junkions function in general and how they came about, as well as the viability of them not having access to Wreck for long periods of time, but I’ve found ways to let the Junkions continue on as normal while their leader goes off on silly adventures with his pal. That way is, they have set work schedules planned millennia in advance. They’ll be just fine for a couple of years, but it might cause some unexpected sparkache in Wreck to be gone for too long.

• Going in with my favourite — When they first met and Hot Rod gave him the universal greeting, Wreck had absolutely no fucking idea what it meant. Like, it would be so ridiculously funny if his recollection of their first meeting was essentially — he saw a really handsome red and orange robot talk utter gibberish right to his face and thought “wow fr?? You’re saying total nonsense rn?????? That’s crazy of you let’s be best friends forever and ever and ever”. A whole relationship built on stupidity <3

• I’m always thinking about that dip they do when they’re dancing… Why’d you do that, Roddy? Why’d you cradle that giant manifold robot in ur arms and dip him ballroom-dance-style like that? A question I’ll never have an answer to, but one that I like to think about often…

• Oh? An absolute banger nickname headcanon? Wreck calls Hot Rod “Rodney” because why wouldn’t a cockney TV-talking robot name his new bestie after the bloke off Only Fools and Horses? Way easier to say that over “Rodimus Prime” at the very least. Not to mention, like, how absolutely drop-dead adorable is that for a nickname? C’mon now… It’s SO cute. They meet up again after a long time apart at some Council of Worlds ambassador meeting, everything has been so formal and respectable so far, and out bounds this Junkion who is so excited he’s shouting the silliest human-orientated nickname for a Prime. What a goober. No social decorum. Probably tackle-hugs him too. If he’s gonna do that to a total stranger in Collect and Save (TFLegends 2004) then I can’t see why he wouldn’t absolutely knock his bestie to the ground in front of every diplomat in the galaxy.

• In G1 S3, when Wreck shows up again for the first time in the cartoon, Ultra Magnus has no idea what he’s talking about (for obvious reasons, bro is talking TV…). But not only does Rodimus understand him perfectly, he can translate! Bilingual king moment for Roddy, but also I like the idea that they actually chat over comms all the time and Rodimus has got really good at understanding TV-Talk, though maybe with a little bit of help from Kup as well, since he also knows a few phrases here and there. Maybe he “studies” TV as well so he can expand his vocabulary for his buddy? I bet on trips to Cybertron it can get a little awkward or distressing when no one understands what Wreck is trying to say, but Roddy is there coming in clutch to translate.

• I think it would be cute if all the Junkions developed a sort of shyness to Cybertronians after a while. It becomes a little too obvious when you hang out with Autobots all the time that your frame is just spare parts and scrap metal, so Wreck likes to be in motorcycle-mode more often than not. That’s okay though, because being his partner’s off-road ride to anywhere means they’re always together on adventures. I think it would be silly if we get a couple centuries in and Rodimus’ current companion group don’t even realise that his motorcycle is a sentient bot. Like, oh, isn’t it weird that our captain sleeps in the garage with his motorcycle? Isn’t it weird that he speaks to it and pets it and gave it a name? They probably assume the TV-talk is quite literally just radio babble that happens to occasionally line up with what Rodimus is saying. That’ll be a fun surprise for everyone when suddenly this big ol’ Junkion appears and starts manhandling their leader.

Anyways, I REALLY need to do my work, so that’s all u get for now. If you have any specific prompts or scenarios I would he VERY HAPPY to provide answers :]]

[astars-things]

hello! could you please write an imagine for jack hughes with a ‘she fell first but he fell harder’ trope with them being like childhood besties. like jack always thought of the reader as a sister but she loved him FOREVER and then finally she grows up and let’s go of the idea of being with him and starts dating other guys and then jacks like “oh damn” and goes to win his girl back. like a lot of angst with a fluff ending pls. lots of love xx

sorry for the wait

Pairing Jack Hughes x reader

Y/n always knew she loved Jack, ever since they were kids. They grew up together, spending countless hours playing in the park, climbing trees, and exploring the woods. they were inseparable, always getting into mischief and having the time of our lives.

Jack was her best friend, her partner in crime, and the person she could always count on. But as they both got older, Y/n feelings for him grew stronger, and she started to see him in a different light. She knew it was foolish to fall in love with her best friend,

As they grew older, Jack started to see Y/n as more of a little sister, and he protected her fiercely

One day, they were out exploring the woods behind their houses, as they often did. Jack was climbing a tree when Y/n heard a branch snap. She looked up just in time to see Jack lose his footing and fall from the tree. Y/n ran over to him, her heart pounding in her chest, and saw that he had broken his arm.

After that day, things changed. Jack became more cautious, and Y/n started to worry about him constantly. She realized how much she loved him, but she didn’t want to ruin their friendship by confessing her feelings.

Years passed, and Y/n found herself dating other guys, but none of them ever measured up to Jack. He was always in the back of her mind, the one person she could never fully let go of.

One day, Jack came to her with a serious expression on his face. He sat her down and told her that he had finally realized how much she meant to him, how much he cared about her, and how much he loved her. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she listened to his words.

“I know I’ve always treated you like a little sister, Y/n, but I can’t deny my feelings anymore. I’ve fallen for you, and I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Y/n was speechless, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions that washed over her. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, but now that it was happening, she didn’t know what to do.

Jack took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Please, Y/n. I love you, and I want to make this work. I know I fell first, but I’m falling harder every day.”

Y/n looked at him, tears streaming down her face, and finally found her voice. “I love you too, Jack. I’ve loved you forever.”

Jack’s face lit up with a smile, and he pulled Y/n into a tight embrace. She felt safe and warm in his arms, finally realizing that this was where she belonged.

From that day on, they were inseparable, building a life together filled with love and adventure. Y/n knew that she had always been meant to be with Jack, and she was grateful that he had finally seen it too.

They spent their days exploring the mountains, hiking and camping under the stars. Y/n painted the beautiful scenery while Jack climbed the tallest peaks. They were the perfect team, balancing each other out in all aspects of life.

But it wasn’t always easy. They had their disagreements and struggles, just like any couple, but they always managed to work through it, relying on their strong friendship as the foundation of their love

[lord-squiggletits]

What is the Tarnma penpals au? I've seen you mention it a couple times and am super curious about it!

Hiiii

So the Pen Pals AU is an idea that I got a couple of weeks ago. Kind of self-explanatory by the name, but the idea is it's a post-war scenario with a diplomatic ending b/t the Autobots and Decepticons. One of the many efforts to normalize relations is a pen pals program that's set up to pair Autobots with Decepticons under randomized pseudonyms. The goal is to try and create positive relationships based only on these letters and not any preconceived notions based on faction or identity. (Also it's pre-Earth which means it's pre-Delphi for Pharma, so his normal non-traumatized personality features.)

Pharma and Tarn naturally get paired up under this program, and the first part of the AU/fic (yes I'm going to write it eventually) is them basically having their pen pals relationship turn from friendship to heavily implied mutual romantic attachment. Their individual daily lives are also shown bc each of them is dealing with their own identity-related crisis: Tarn struggling with depression and addiction in the aftermath of all the things he did for the DJD and confusion over why Megatron just had them change so suddenly. Pharma with the realization that his whole life has just been defined by his accomplishments and he's lived his life in a way where he's oft-respected and admired, but never loved for who he is as a person rather than what he does.

The whole AU was originally meant to be fluffy and slice-of-life-esque (there was even an arranged marriage component in the very first conception of the idea), but as I fleshed out the setting more, I realized I wanted to actually delve deep into the implications of a post-war setting. So the Pen Pals AU has taken a darker turn recently; not darker as in fluffy romance to dead dove, but it's more like, the fluffy romance develops and then the past/war comes back to haunt Tarn and Pharma's relationship in a way that's very (re)traumatizing, both for them individually and their chances of being able to stay together as a couple.

So the fact that Tarn was in the DJD/oversaw Grindcore and did countless atrocities is very much an element of the story that's explored rather than shied away from. At first he deals with it on his own, and for a while he lives in blissful ignorance knowing that his pen pal is the one relationship he has with a "normal person" (he knows that his pen pal is a doctor, aka not a hardened soldier and criminal). Unfortunately things get complicated when his pen pal asks to meet IRL because he wants them to be more than friends, and Tarn realizes that he can't move forward with this new, blooming relationship without being honest about who he is. On Pharma's end, he has to grapple with the idea of choosing love over reputation, following his heart rather than his fear of social rejection/ostracization. Especially when the consequences of continuing to date Tarn could go from just "people judging him" to.... well, that's what me eventually writing the fic is meant to reveal. :)

TLDR: Tarn and Pharma meet as anonymous pen pals, end up having a lot of shared issues re: loneliness and isolated public personas, help each other solve their personal problems, share a mutual love of music, and fall in love, then realize who the other is. Complications ensue.

[hauntedwizardmoment]

OKAY so: 2, 10, 11, 14, for any oc(s) you wish, but also, assuming you're taking asks about 'em, for jace's former party from blood and turpentine fic series bc I am legitimately obsessed with them and think about them daily

HIII oh my god this got so long i am so sorry but i got carried away:

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

Peregrine: he’s a theater kid! he wanted to be a bard soooo bad or at least multiclass a la Fabian but due to the [gestures at his neuroses around his masculinity] he never did. i think in terms of levels, he ended up a level 20 fighter until he did some paladin training as an adult that put him at like, a 17/3 split between fighter/paladin. in a kinder timeline he’d be doing community theater and taxes with jace. in blood and turpentine. well no spoilers for what im currently writing but it’s not that.   

Dagbert: out of everyone in the group hes the one thats into musicals unironically. and not even good musicals. like picture this massive goliath that’s taller than porter and just as broad, i think i have him as like 7 ft 1, and he just fucking loves Cats. he’s obsessed with fantasy andrew lloyd webber. has a jellicle-sona. 

Ysvelde: she’s somehow got even less of a solid grasp of her identity than jace does. part of it is that she’s an actress, part of it is that she’s never really lived for anything besides the approval of other people (first her mom, then her adventuring party). she has no idea who she is without the approval of others. if you put her in a room alone she’d start climbing the walls instead of sitting alone with her own thoughts. girl who is constantly experiencing The Dread but she covers it up with a winning smile + really cool artsy makeup. 

Aurora: [dan howell voice] one time she had a MESSY night out in [bastion city], kissed a GIRL, and SMOKED A CIGARETTE. no but seriously she has a secret wild side that she rarely lets out, especially as she gets more and more into fundamentalism and what she believes is sol’s true word, the very early beginnings of the harvestmen cult. during their first year adventuring, shes the one that suggested matching tramp stamps while they were all wasted. 

Invidia: she’s a romantic. she really does want her friends to find love. she’s at aurora and peregrine’s wedding as a bridesmaid, and when she realizes that jace and porter are serious about each other, she’s genuinely happy for him. underneath all the cattiness and jokes she’s so glad that everything “worked out” (woman who does not know jace is a dead man walking)

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

not to keep talking about this but my infidelity fic which is an au of blood and turpentine? i have so many dramatic scenes from it that i rotate in my head. when peregrine finds out that jace got promoted to vice principal and starts a huge fight about it. dagbert’s father’s funeral. invidia and ysvelde’s falling out. when peregrine finds out about jace’s affair and subsequently gets murdered by porter. aurora’s creepy midsommar-ass family hosting everyone for fantasy easter. 

11. What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Peregrine: a lance!! by the time he’s a full-time adventurer i’m sure it’s a magical weapon too, probably has like a +2 or something. hes definitely used it before love a martial class. 

Dagbert: his battle axe, absolutely has used it. he’s definitely got a magic weapon too, i think i call out in love’s never meant much to me that it has magic runes on it so yeah let’s call it the same level of magical as perry’s lance

Ysvelde: so she’s a college of eloquence bard and a fiend pact warlock, so i think she probably has a shortsword as a backup weapon but honestly that eldritch blast cantrip is getting her through most of her fights juuuust fine. 

Aurora: circle of life cleric, definitely has a crossbow that she’s used a couple times in a panic early on but she’s more a healer than anything. i picture her spiritual weapon (the cleric spell) as a scythe. 

Invidia: she’s a circle of the moon druid so i think she’d have a pair of broad claws that do some sick slashing damage, plus obviously her wild shape forms, and her animal companion (a wolf but for funsies ive flavored it as a husky named luna and she loves her so much, she treats her like a child, has little bows to put in her fur, etc. luna is fantasy instagram famous)

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

ohhhh this is sosososo juicy 

Peregrine: the true driving force in his life is to be seen as a protector, as a provider, as a good fighter and a good man. he will Freak Out if he perceives anything as getting in the way of that. especially if its his own actions that make him look weak or immoral in any way, i.e. sleeping with jace when he and aurora are on a break. 

Dagbert: truly. genuinely. from the bottom of his heart. he could not give less of a shit. he wants to be known as a goddamn professional, unlike the rest of these people, apparently. he’s out here trying to earn a fucking paycheck meanwhile everyone else in his party is ensnared in insane psychosexual drama. he’s angling to get a raise to buy out his ailing father’s construction business from him and let the man retire and this clownshow of a party is fucking it up for him.

Ysvelde: she’s not real unless youre clapping and cheering for her if you dont clap and cheer for her she’ll die. she lives and dies on the approval of an audience. she’s a star. but like for real she needs validation constantly, it doesnt matter where it comes from or how she gets it, she just needs to know that she’s getting a good grade in existing, something normal to want and possible to achieve. 

Aurora: her main thing is being right. she’s a cleric, she receives the divine word from sol, she’s his hand upon the world and she’ll spread his light to the darkest corners of spyre and consecrate it for him, make the world holy. she has her convictions and is firm in them, and she wants everyone to see her as a source of good and truth, both in battle and in spirituality. i think after a certain point she couldnt care less what her party thinks of her, she’s mainly looking for the approval of higher-ups in the church of sol to further solidify herself as a priestess and help shape the vision and direction of the church. 

Invidia: her and aurora butt heads a lot because she also is very into being correct, but in a way that is entirely divorced from divinity. instead, she wants other people to see her as observant to a scary degree. she wants you to know that she sees what you do, knows your habits inside and out, all your secrets, and is taking notes and filing them away for blackmail purposes. and when you slip up she WILL brag about predicting your downfall to your face. it’s why she and jace are the ivy-and-oisin of their party, they both love gossip and reveling in the misery of people they dont like. 

[sweetsmellosuccess]

Review: Challengers

Dir. Luca Guadagnino

What if you have a love triangle in which each of the three points represents someone who’s pretty awful? Put it another way: How are you meant to root for anyone in a movie if they all seem equally  —  if in their own ways  — regrettable? 

The answer, as explored in Luca Guadagnino’s tennis-based love drama, seems to question the very idea of rooting for someone at all in such a situation. This is a confounding idea for a movie that is ostensibly about sports, and make no mistake, there are a great number of long scenes of the characters playing tennis, with a great variety of POV shots (some from the players; some, more jarringly, from the ball itself), and much discussion of said sport, and the strategies therein. 

Still, for all its concern with tennis  —  and the structure of the film follows along a championship match at a lesser ATP tournament between our two sparring lotharios  — Guadagnino, working from a screenplay by Justin Kuritzkes, isn’t so much concerned with the sporting outcome of a given match, but the emotional stakes it represents. 

It makes for an intriguing, if at times ham-handed, approach to the standard sports genre model of the game being the thing. Here, the game is just the backdrop for the emotional stakes it becomes imbued with over time. 

The film’s skeletal structure follows a championship game at a lesser ATP event in New Rochelle, NY,  between two men. When we first lay eyes on Patrick (Josh O’Connor), he seems like the scrappy underdog to the far more fluid and accomplished Art (Mike Faist). As they play, both men seem preoccupied with one of the spectators, the stunning Tashi (Zendaya), sitting dead in the middle (symbolism alert!), watching both players with rapt attention. 

As the game progresses, we get a series of flashbacks, some from a couple of weeks back  —  Art, a perennial grand champion and megastar, having to come back from injury and general ennui, gets talked into playing this event by his coach/wife Tashi  —  some from as far as 13 years ago  — Art and Patrick, long best friends at the all-encompassing tennis academy they both attend, meet Tashi at a party in her honor, as one of the best young players in the world, and both fall madly in love with her. 

Eventually, through these series of flashbacks we get the gist of the stakes at this particular championship match: Tahsi started out dating flashy Patrick, who turned pro rather than attend Stanford, along with the other two; but their falling out, especially after Tashi suffers a career-ending knee injury, left her available for the more reserved, dependable Art, whom she eventually marries. 

The couple then cut Patrick entirely out of their lives. As Art ascends to the peak of tennis royalty, Patrick descends into playing for peanuts on qualifying tour gigs, hooking up with women in different cities more or less as a way of not having to sleep in his car. 

However, Patrick’s more brazen allure (as a successful doubles pairing, the boys were known as “Fire and Ice,” and while it’s never clearly specified who was who, it become increasingly clear as the film progresses) never quite stops for Tashi, who vacillates between cheating on Art with Patrick, and wanting absolutely nothing to do with him. 

If that weren’t betrayal enough, she also meets with Patrick, a player her husband has never beaten on the court, the night before the championship match, to convince him to throw the match so that Art can win and build up his confidence heading into majors season. The price, as you might expect, is once again sleeping with him, a cruel outcome for the unsuspecting Art. 

To the film’s credit, the characters are far more slippery than the standard sports tropes might expect: Patrick, for all his seeming down-on-his-luck underdog position, actually comes from an exceedingly wealthy family. As Tashi points out to him forcefully towards the film’s end, after Patrick has asked her to drop Art as a client and become his coach, all of his poor penniless affect is actually just an act. Tashi, for her part, comes across as supremely confident and assertive, but clearly has a lot of not fully explored contradiction to her. She might bark orders at her dutiful husband, but it’s also clear her sense of boundaries are blurred to the point of being unrecognizable. 

Art, meanwhile, as docile and reserved as he seems (in befitting a tour champion of his caliber at a less glamorous event such as this, doesn’t actually say a word for the first 15 or so minutes of the movie), has already decided he’s done playing professionally after this current year, and tells Tashi so  —  a move Patrick has already predicted to her. 

What Guadagnino is also after, more in keeping with the director of the exçellent Call Me By Your Name, is the not-so secret love affair between the pair of boys. In an early scene, after first meeting Tashi and convincing her, somehow, to come to their hotel room for an after-hours celebration, she begins kissing both of them before discreetly pulling back and allowing them to passionately kiss one another for several long seconds before they realize she’s no longer between them. Less subtly still, Guadagnino references phallic imagery between the boys  —  think bananas, and churros, they gleefully tear into in front of one another  —  as a way of advancing the idea of their unverbalized love. 

Their battle of one upmanship becomes more about unrealized adoration of one another, a fact Tashi (who already sees a tennis match as a “relationship” between the combatants) seems all too keenly aware of, throughout their lives interwoven together. It is an interesting way to display the character’s wants and desires  —  almost everyone wants something they don’t actually get: Tashi wants a dominating pro career; Patrick wants to be reconciled with his friends; Art wants Tashi’s love and devotion  — and to stack all of these unfettered desires on the scope of a minor ATP event yields some interesting bits. 

Still, it’s a tricky thing to have an audience invest in characters who are ostensibly either so selfishly minded, or egregiously unaware of their own desires, that they too often act like pariahs. In harmony with the film’s title, we as an audience are tasked with caring about these often loathsome characters without much of an emotional anchor. For all the film’s playfulness with time and structure, it really boils down to a threesome of people who probably would have been better off had they not met at all.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 6)

6.8k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming, pining, angst

Author's Note: FINALLY!!!!!!!! Ahh, I had some bad writer's block and struggled for a bit there, but @agentstarkid helped get me through it! Thank you for your patience!

Series Masterlist

Most of the women Roy Kent slept with didn’t stay over. Many didn’t even try. And, in all honesty, Roy was fine with it.

Not that he’d been seeing many women lately. After he’d tackled Jamie Tartt and ended his playing career, there weren’t as many interested candidates.

But Roy wasn’t interested in it anymore either. Not since Keeley, at least. He definitely wasn’t pining over her at this point, he was very much over her, and he certainly treasured their friendship, but there was no point in denying that he couldn’t bear the thought of going back to meaningless hookups, not after what he and Keeley had.

He wanted a partner, someone to understand him, someone to share his highs and lows with, someone who’d fucking challenge him and make him a better man.

There was a brief moment, when his fingers dug into Bucky’s soft skin and his mouth explored every inch of her and she whispered his name, where Roy wondered if maybe he’d found that person.

Of course, that idea dissipated when he woke up in the morning to find himself, once again, alone in his bed. He knew better than to assume she’d gone to the bathroom or down to the kitchen for a glass of water, even before he saw her clothes gone from the bedroom floor where they’d been haphazardly discarded.

Roy frowned as he stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t really wanted her to sleep over, did he? To have to deal with the immediate conversation regarding what had just happened and what it meant… No, it was nice to have the morning to think about things and figure out what to say. Yeah, she’d done the right thing. Honestly, she’d done the Roy Kent thing.

Despite himself, Roy stayed in bed for a bit, running the night before though his slightly pounding head. He’d had a good time, actually. And not just because of the sex. Dancing with her was surprisingly nice. He was amazed by the way they’d spoken so candidly to each other about their careers and the heartbreak they shared. They’d made each other laugh, something he didn’t think they were capable of doing together.

And yeah, the sex was kind of mind-blowing.

Finally, he made himself get up, running his hands over his tired face as he wandered down the hall, where his tie still lay on the floor. In the living room he spotted his jacket lying carelessly by the couch. He crouched down, ignoring the dull pain in his knee, and fished his cell phone out of the inside pocket.

Fuck. Why did he feel more than a little disappointed when he didn’t see her name in his messages? Fuck off, Roy. Get it together.

Instead, there were a couple of texts from Jamie (“Thanks for the dance, Coach!” “Where’d you & Coach Bucky run off to??”), and Lucas (“Take good care of her ;)”), and Keeley (“Saw you leave with Bucky. Good for you two!”). He scowled. He should’ve known that people would see them getting into a cab together; Monday would mean damage control, lots of telling people they’d just shared a cab, he’d been a gentleman and made sure she got home safe, the end. That had to be what she wanted to tell everyone, right?

He hadn’t stirred an inch as I grabbed my things and redressed, closing the door quietly behind me as I called a cab to take me home.

~

Waking up next to Roy Kent was not good. Not that Roy wasn’t nice; on the contrary, I wasn’t surprised to find that he was fantastic in bed and quite the gentleman after, making sure I was cleaned up and comfortable before we laid down for what was supposed to be a quick nap. But when I stirred at about four in the morning and realized where I was and whose arm was tightly wrapped around me, I knew I had to get out of there. We’d crossed a bridge that there was no going back to, and I just wanted to go home and have a private panic.

The shower I took once after I’d laid in bed for a bit did nothing to take the feeling of Roy Kent off me; it was as if his hands were still on every inch of my body. The quiet little part of me that always seemed to be thinking about him couldn’t help but savor the images floating around in my mind. The loud part, the part that wanted to be taken seriously as a successful manager, the part that knew the challenges I faced as a woman manager, prayed that no one would ever find out that I’d slept with Roy Kent.

As I was blow-drying my hair, my phone went off; the words Boss-Ass Bitch appeared on my screen.

“Hey Keels,” I groaned into the phone, scrutinizing my reflection; God, my face was tired. “Are you feeling as hungover as I am?”

“Babe…” Keeley’s voice was slow and full of uncertainty. “Think I could come over?”

In less than an hour, Keeley was sitting on my couch, looking small as I handed her a mug of coffee. She watched me carefully as I sat beside her with my own mug. Something was clearly wrong, and I was terrified to find out what it was.

She gazed down at her coffee before finally opening her mouth. “I know you went home with Roy last night,” she whispered.

My heart sank. “Fuck, Keeley.” I put my hand on her leg, horrified. “I’m so sorry. It was stupid- I should have never- I would have never if I’d known you still had feelings-”

“What?” Keeley wrinkled her nose at me. “Oh, fuck, babe not that. You can shag Roy all you want. Kind of glad you two finally did it, you’ve been so damn insufferable trying to hide how badly you both want it.”

Ignoring her mocking tone, I shook my head. “What the fuck’s wrong then?”

Sobering up, she pulled out her phone and handed it to me. “Friend of mine sent me this.”

If my heart had sunk into my stomach when I thought I’d hurt Keeley, it was practically in my shoes now. There we were, getting into a cab in front of the venue. There we were, getting out of the same cab in front of his house. There was his hand on my lower back as we went up the sidewalk. There I was walking through his front door.

“What the fuck?” I hissed, fighting the urge to throw Keeley’s phone across the room. Instead, I gingerly handed it back to her, fighting every urge I had to scream my head off. “How did this happen?” Suddenly, another question seemed more important: “Has Roy seen these?”

Keeley pocketed her phone and shook her head. “I wanted to show you first. Roy’s… used to the press being all up in his shit. Figured you needed more of a heads up.”

My head fell into my hands. If my hangover didn’t make me feel like puking, this sure as hell did the trick. As soon as these photos became public, I was done for.  Never mind the trophies, the medals, the legacy of winning. All I’d be was the slut who slept with Roy fucking Kent.

“Is there anything you can do?” I breathed, unsure if Keeley could hear my muffled voice.

Her hand stroked my back, trying to offer some comfort. “I will do my very best,” she promised. “Swear to God, I’ll do my best.”

~

He didn’t hear from her. All weekend, Roy stared at his mobile, waiting for her name to pop up. Every time it vibrated or pinged, he felt his heart skip a beat, only for it so falter when it was his sister, or Jamie, or one of the gaffers. Even Ted shot him a quick text to ask how the gala went (and if Rebecca had a good time).

By Monday morning, the knot in his stomach was the size of the football he absently kicked as the Greyhounds made their way to the pitch. He’d only growled greetings that morning and had avoided the offices; it was going to be a miserable fucking day.

“Alright there, Coach?” Beard looked at him with concern as the fellas began stretching in the cool morning air. “Been even more silent than usual.”

Roy let out one of his dramatic sighs. It was really tempting, the idea of telling someone all the shit that’d been running through his head these twenty-four hours. Of wondering what the fuck sleeping together meant, and what her leaving without a word meant.

But talking about feelings was fucking embarrassing.

“Tired,” he finally mumbled. “Fucking gala’s exhausting.”

Beard nodded. “Saw you leaving with-”

“We shared a fucking cab.” Roy cleared his throat. “Made sure she got home safe. Managed to not bite each other’s heads off in the cab, you’d’ve been very fucking proud of us.”

“Right.”

The buzzing in Roy’s pocket had his heart skipping a beat. Of course, it wasn’t the one person he was stupidly hoping to hear from; it was Keeley.

Stop ignoring me and text me back. It’s IMPORTANT.

Roy rolled his eyes and tapped away, asking Keeley what the fuck she wanted.

Can we talk during your lunch? Privately?

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbled as he responded with a thumbs-up emoji.

He tried to focus during training, he really did. But he was a mess. He forgot the names of trick plays, he confused the guys’ positions. It was humiliating. Roy felt all wrong, and he hated that everyone- the gaffers, the players, fucking Will- could see it.

Finally, he trudged down the halls, his curiosity about what Keeley had to tell him finally piquing. He grunted absently at the people he passed, his feet carrying him towards the changing room and the coaches’ offices. When he turned into his office, his heart leapt into his throat when he saw a familiar ponytail in the Whippets’ office.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy poked his head through the door connecting the two offices, noting that there was no Lucas or any players to be seen. Just the two of them, all alone, just like the night of the gala.

“Hey.” Roy barely recognized his own voice; it was soft, timid, almost nervous. He fucking hated it.

Her eyes were wide when she turned away from her computer. “Oh. Hello, Coach Kent.”

Coach Kent. Not Roy.

Her expression matched the way he felt inside: tense, uncomfortable, a bit confused. Maybe even a little sad. She offered him a tight smile as she stood up.

“See you around.” Before Roy could say anything, she walked out briskly, not bothering to look at him.

Roy couldn’t help feeling monumentally disappointed as he returned to his own office, shoulders sagging. What the fuck was that? He dropped into his desk chair, brows furrowed, and leaned his elbows on his knees. He’d expected some awkwardness, sure, but not whatever the fuck that was. She’d practically run at the sight of him.

“There you are.” Keeley stood in the doorway, the woeful look on her face contrasting with the fluorescent outfit she had on. She closed the door behind her. “Can we talk?”

Roy nodded, gesturing towards Beard’s desk. “Go on then.”

Before she sat down, Keeley crossed the office and shut the other door, the one that led to the Whippets’ empty office. With a sigh, she grabbed Beard’s chair and pushed it closer to Roy. The look on her face was familiar to Roy; it was her “I don’t want to have this conversation but we have to have it” face. He saw it a lot around the time they broke up. At least that time, he knew why she was making that face; this time he was completely in the dark.

“Keels?”

The blonde took a deep breath. “Right. Well, um, a friend of mine at a tabloid, she saw these photos, and she thought we might want a heads up…”

Roy’s stomach dropped. “Photos?”

Without another word, Keeley unlocked her phone and handed it to Roy; a risky move, honestly, with Roy’s temper. Roy let out a pained growl when he saw the photographs of Bucky and himself, their faces almost happy as they walked into his house.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

“Has she seen these?”

Keeley’s face somehow grew sadder at the first words Roy was able to manage. “Showed her yesterday. Meant to show you too, but you wouldn’t answer.”

Roy nodded. It made sense now, her barely speaking a word to him. Her not calling or texting. It made sense.

After a long moment of silence, Roy stood and handed Keeley her phone. She opened her mouth to say something- probably to offer sympathy or assure him that she was going to do her best to handle things- but Roy stormed off before she could.

~

The cool tile floor of the dark boot room provided me a safe hiding place. After Roy had surprised me in the office, I needed a place to just breathe. Seeing his face made me feel like I was going to be sick, even sicker than the photos made me feel. He was so relaxed, so calm, as if the world wasn’t falling apart.

Probably because for him it wasn’t. I knew his reputation. I’d known it before I walked into his house and accepted his whiskey and fell into his bed. For him this was normal, part of being a famous athlete whose life was a public string of one-night stands. It didn’t impact his career, didn’t have people judging him or calling him crude things. It didn’t diminish his legacy.

Could I say the same for myself?

Just as I was starting to get my breathing under control and beginning to feel like I could face people again, the boot room door slammed open.

Of fucking course it was Roy Kent.

His wide eyes blinked several times to adjust to the dark room. When he spotted my curled-up figure leaning against the wall, he closed the door quietly behind him and took a step into the room. With a groan and a crack coming from his knee, he joined me on the floor, like he had in that little shed at the team retreat. Even in the dark, I could see the deep frown etched into his face.

“I am so fucking sorry.” His voice was a quiet rasp. “So, so fucking sorry.” He reached out and touched my hand, somehow looking sadder when I flinched at his touch. “Keeley just told me.”

Oh. That was why he’d been so calm.

He went on. “I… I really don’t know what the fuck to say.” He threw his head back, leaning against the wall. “I don’t know what happened. But Keeley- I- we’ll handle it. We’ll fucking handle it.”

With a sigh, I shook my head. “It’s my own fault,” I whispered. “I made a choice without thinking about the fucking consequences.”

“It’s not your fault.” Roy’s voice was firm. “It’s the fucking press. Fucking vultures,” he spat. His voice turned thoughtful. “Why don’t we get together after work and-”

My pained, hollow laugh stopped him midsentence. “Come on, Roy. I can’t be seen with you. I shouldn’t even be in a dark boot room with you. There’s none of this ‘we’. There can’t be.”

I swore I heard him barely breathe my name in a strangled voice.

“I can’t,” I repeated, softer now. My stomach was in absolute knots; I wasn’t planning on doing this. Not in the fucking boot room, at least. “Roy, I just… I need my face in the papers for being a winning coach, not sleeping with one. And- and, I mean it was great, you were great. But let’s be honest. We both know it was just another one of your flings.” I cleared my throat, face on fire. “And that’s totally your prerogative. I knew what I was getting into. I’m a big girl. Do what you want. Do who you want. You’re a legend here. You can sleep with all the women you want, and they’ll look at you like you’re a fucking god. But me… I mean, if people found out I slept with a coworker…”

“Things are different for you,” he sighed. For once, there wasn’t a hint of venom when he repeated the fact that I so often reminded him of. Instead, there was nothing but sadness. Disappointment. Misery. “No. Yeah. Fuck, I get it.” He looked at me as best he could in the darkness. “You gonna be alright?”

I shrugged. “I have to be, don’t I?”

He nodded. “Guess you do.” His hand twitched, as though he was debating reaching out again. It remained where it was. “Keeley’s got this,” he assured me. “She’s brilliant. And… I’ve got your back. No matter what.” His smile was so sad I swore I could hear my heart crack. “We’re Richmond til we die, alright?”

“Thanks, Kent.”

With that, I stood and walked over to the door, leaving Roy Kent alone on the boot room floor.

~

Roy sighed and took another sip of his coffee, watching Jamie do burpees, for once taking no pleasure in his former teammate’s ragged breathing and pained expression. For a week now, Bucky had kept true to her word and avoided being around Roy as much as possible. No fighting or screaming, no civility and politeness, and sure as hell no flirting, which he had kind of hoped there would be before these stupid photos. He felt like a fucking ghost as he walked down the halls of Nelson Road.

He glanced at his watch. “Alright, you’re done,” he barked, pulling a water bottle out of Jamie’s backpack that sat on the bench beside him. He handed it to Jamie as he jogged over to Roy.

“Alright, Roy?” He cocked his head. “That was only one hundred and ninety-two. Thought I needed to do two hundred.” When Roy only grunted, Jamie continued. “You’ve looked real distracted lately, mate. Come on. Tell ol’ Jamie what’s up.”

For a moment, Roy just stared at Jamie. This shit had been really eating at him ever since Keeley showed him the pictures… no, since he woke up and found himself alone in his bed and, for once, wishing he wasn’t. He didn’t want to tell Keeley about this, she felt stressed enough about the photos; she didn’t need to also have the weight of Roy’s woes on her shoulders as well. No way could he go to Rebecca, she’d kill him for ruining all the civility they’d finally managed. Beard and Nate didn’t need to be roped into more of their bullshit, they’d been through enough since the Whippets’ arrival. Ted was too far away, and even if Roy could be bothered to call him about this, he didn’t feel like hearing some nonsense story about a childhood friend in Kansas that was only vaguely related to Roy’s problem. His sister would probably roll her eyes and make some comment about him needing to not shit where he ate. Even Doctor Sharon felt like the wrong person to talk to.

That really only left one prickish person for Roy to confide in.

With a grumble, Roy gestured for Jamie to join him on the bench. Once the men were side by side, Roy leaned back, finger tracing the lid of his coffee. “I… the night of the gala… I…”

“Is this about Coach Buck?”

Unable to bring himself to look at Jamie, Roy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah.” He took another sip of his coffee, as if the caffeine would somehow calm him down. “I fucking slept with her.”

There. He said it. It was out there, spilled like that bottle of ink Phoebe had dropped on his carpet last week. A big, dark stain hanging in the air between the two Greyhounds.

“Yeah?”

Roy frowned. Jamie didn’t seem shocked at all; if anything, his furrowed brows told Roy that Jamie wasn’t sure what the fuss was all about. “Yeah. I slept with her.” Good, Roy. Say it again. That’ll make Tartt lose that permanent confused expression.

Jamie shrugged. “I mean, obviously. You’ve been sleeping together since, what, the charity game, right? When she gave you some of the money for the doctors and shit?”

“What the fuck?” Now Roy got to be the one with the furrowed brows, accompanied by a mouth gaped in surprise. “No, you twat. Just the one time after the gala.”

It was a good thing the early morning was so dark, because the sight of two football legends gawking at one another on a bench would have drawn most people’s attention. And Roy definitely didn’t need more photos of him floating around.

“But…” Jamie shook his head. “You two’ve been almost nice to each other since the game. Figured you were shagging the entire time.”

Roy’s face twisted in disgust. This was who he chose to confide in? Not for the first time, Roy found himself regretting the fact that his two best friends were his eight-year-old niece and… Jamie Tartt.

Apparently not recognizing the dangerous look on Roy’s face, Jamie pressed on. “So, what’s the problem? You got to shag a beautiful woman who’s like a girl version of you, except much nicer. Shouldn’t you be like bouncing off the walls with excitement or some shit? You’re together now, right?”

A lump formed in Roy’s throat. Fuck. “No,” he finally mumbled. “She… I… We’re keeping our distance.”

Jamie didn’t need to know that she’d broken Roy’s heart. Roy could barely admit it to himself.

“But why?” Jamie looked like a kid whose parents just told him the tooth fairy wasn’t real, with his wide eyes and pouty lips. “You’re soulmates or some shit. Like Kermit and Miss Piggy.”

Roy felt weirdly grateful for Jamie’s idiocy; feeling annoyed was a nice change of pace from everything else he’d been feeling lately.

“Some fucking papp caught us going into my house,” he muttered, staring down at his coffee cup. “And she… I think she got scared. All this stuff about her being a woman coach and her reputation. Asked me to stay away from her.” He shrugged. “So I am.”

Jamie had never looked so serious in the entire time Roy had known him. “Fuck.”

Roy nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

~

It was a quiet week after that conversation in the boot room. Very quiet. I did my best to ignore the dull stabbing feeling in my chest that appeared every time I thought of those photos, or saw Roy in passing, or even just heard someone say his name. Instead, I focused all my energy on the Whippets. They continued to impress everyone, including myself. They had performed spectacularly so far in the season; even the small handful of losses we suffered were close, exciting games that came down to only one or two goals.

After a particularly grueling practice, Luke and I made our way out of the Dog Track, debating where to get dinner from before settling at my place for an episode of Lust Conquers All. Just as he almost had me convinced that pizza for three days in a row was not childish, I heard a familiar voice call my name. My pulse quickened as I turned around.

“Hi, George!”

George Willows offered me a boyish grin as he approached, hands in his pockets, head slightly dipped. All charm and ease. “How’s it going, Coach?” He gave Lucas a small nod of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to me. “Whippets are looking great.”

My face warmed at his praise. Or his smile. Maybe both. “They’re a great group of players,” I murmured. “We’re lucky to be their managers.”

Luke threw an arm around my shoulders. “She’s being modest. Which she usually never is,” he added pointedly. “She’s a brilliant coach.”

“Oh, I know.” George kicked the pavement beneath his feet. “Your success should be celebrated. Like maybe with dinner tomorrow night?”

Something caught in my throat. George Willows was asking me out. A nice, handsome man with a normal job and no reputation for getting his picture in the tabloids. Dinner would be lovely. He’d hold my hand and pull out my chair for me. He’d insist on paying for dinner and walking me to my door. He’d probably even ask before kissing me goodnight. There’d be no arguing, no trying to one-up each other, and absolutely no awkwardness.

This was what I wanted- right?

Before I could figure out why the hell George’s offer had me more confused and anxious than thrilled, Lucas spoke for me. “She’s love to,” he assured George, digging his fingers into me. “Wouldn’t ya, Buck?”

Shit. Say something.

“That sounds great!” I finally blurted out. His relieved smile had my shoulders relaxing. “Let’s say six tomorrow? Gives me time to shower and change after training.”

George nodded earnestly, eager as a schoolboy. “Perfect. Text me your address, I’ll pick you up.”

We said our goodbyes, my face feeling noticeably warm, before Lucas and I began our walk home. My eyes stayed fixated on the sidewalk the entire time, not sure what to say to Lucas, and even more unsure why there was a knot in my stomach along with the butterflies George and our date gave me.

“Alright, what gives?” Lucas finally demanded as we settled on the couch with our pizza. “You’ve been drooling over George Willows pretty much since we got to Richmond. Why don’t you look over the moon about your date?”

For a moment, I just stared at my pizza, as if the pepperoni and extra cheese would be able to explain what was up, and I wouldn’t have to say a word. Finally, I realized I had to tell Lucas the one thing I’d planned on taking to my grave.

“I slept with Roy fucking Kent,” I groaned, slouching into the couch and refusing to look at Lucas. “The night of the fucking gala. He invited me in for a drink, we got to talking, and we… you know.”

“Oh shit.”

When I looked at Lucas, his mouth was wide open, and his eyes were fixed on my face. No hint of teasing, laughter, jokes. No lewd comments or “I told you so”.

But only for a moment.

“I mean,” he finally said, “I’m mostly surprised it took so long, honestly. You’ve looked like you’ve wanted to rip each other’s clothes off since the day we arrived.” He cocked his head at me. “Is that why you were hesitant about George? You and Kent are starting something up? Because if I’d known, I never would have-”

“We’re not starting something,” I insisted. “It was a onetime thing. Believe me.” Realizing I wasn’t going to touch my food, I set my plate down on the coffee table. “And there’s more. There’s… pictures.”

In an instant, Lucas was on his feet, fists clenched. “Did he take photos of you?” In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen such rage on his normally friendly face.

“What? Oh, fuck no.” I tugged him back down to the couch, amused and touched by his fiery reaction. “But good to know you’d kick his ass if he did,” I mused. “Some fucking photographer caught us getting into a cab and then getting out at his place,” I explained quickly. “They haven’t been published yet but… I’d rather play it safe.” I shrugged. “I mean, not like we were going to become boyfriend-girlfriend or some shit, right? So, just gotta keep a low profile, stay away from each other, and hope the whole thing goes away.”

“Hmm.” Lucas leaned his head on my shoulder. “Gotta admit, kinda wanted to see you two become Richmond’s hot power couple.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, no. He’s probably already had like three more women in that bed since the gala. It meant nothing to him.” I cleared my throat. “Nothing to me either,” I quickly added. “It was fun, had a good time, but back to business as usual.” I took out my phone and pulled up my text thread with George, already filled with texts between us; not like Roy Kent, who I had zero messages with. “So, I am just going to go on a nice date with a nice man and have a nice time,” I announced, typing my address and telling George I was looking forward to dinner.

“You sure you’re not hung up on this Roy Kent shit?” Lucas asked quietly.

My phone pinged, alerting me to the smiley face George immediately responded with. “Absolutely not.”

The following day flew by in a blur of soccer and workouts and knowing grins from Lucas. Once I’d assured him that I was not hung up on Roy Kent and that I was very interested in George Willows, he was back on board with the whole date thing. He even came over to help me look at outfits, leaving just before six. As I picked out a pair of earrings that would look nice with my black dress, I kept an eye on my phone, figuring George would text to let me know he was outside so I could head on down.

The sound of knocking made me jump. Oh. He’d come to my door to pick me up. I tried to remember the last time that happened; to be fair, I hadn’t even been on a real date since arriving in England.

I put on my earrings as I scurried to the door, feeling my shoulders relax at the sight of George and the bouquet of roses he held.

“Hi,” I breathed, amazed at how comfortable I felt despite the butterflies in my stomach.

“You look beautiful,” was his greeting as he handed me the flowers. “Ready to go?”

I let him hold my hand as we walked down to his car, where he held open the door for me. The conversation during the drive was sparse; just general little chitchat, nothing too complicated. It was nice, easy, mindless. And I liked the way it made me feel.

At the restaurant I felt myself relax even more. George asked me questions about my childhood, my time playing for the U.S. National team, my friendship with Lucas. He was earnest and engaged and interested in every little thing I had to say.

“This is all off the record, right George?” I asked with a smirk over my glass of wine.

“In that case, let me just go ahead and let my editor know I’m canceling my exposé on you,” he teased with a wink, crowding my stomach with more butterflies. He took a bite of his food, watching me carefully. “Glad to know you’re enjoying Richmond. Fucking Kent must be a headache to work with, though.”

My chest tightened, and I was sure George could see my expression completely change. Why did I feel so bothered by his sudden sour tone? He wasn’t exactly wrong; when I first arrived, Roy Kent was fucking headache. We did nothing but argue all the damn time. At best, we’d really only ever been civil. But still…

“Let’s not talk about Roy,” I murmured, fiddling with my fork. “I know you two have this weird thing but… He… We work together, you know? We try to keep things professional.” I cleared my throat, not quite looking at George. “And his Greyhounds have been great to my Whippets since we arrived. So, yeah. Can we not?”

“Hey.” He reached out and touched my free hand. “Sorry. Just, the couple of times I’ve seen you two together, he’s been quite rude to you. But you’re right, the two of you are colleagues. I really respect your professionalism.”

His reassuring smile had me offering a small grin of my own, especially when I looked down at his hand on top of mine. God, it felt so natural, holding hands with George Willows. Just so easy and lovely. I could get used to this, I thought as he gave my hand a squeeze.

I also felt like I could get used to the way he looked at me as we stood in front of my door, with soft eyes and a shy smile. Ask me out again, I mentally implored. Tell me you had a good time and you want to see me again.

He leaned close, eyes flickering to my red lips. “Thanks for a great date,” he murmured, bringing up one hand to cup my face. “Would it be too forward if I…?” He trailed off with raised eyebrows.

My heart fluttered as I closed my eyes and leaned forward to give him his answer. I could feel his smile against my lips and knew he could feel one of my own. It was a small, chaste kiss, one filled with giddiness and anticipation, as if it was just the start of something.

George’s hand lingered on my cheek even after we broke the kiss. “Think we could do this again sometime?”

“Absolutely.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his again. “Good night, George.”

“Good night.”

Once my door was closed behind me, I fell to the couch, a content sigh escaping my lips. My first date in goodness knows how long. And it was lovely. Easy, even. And George was wonderful and an absolute gentleman. And the sweet kiss at my front door was something out of a Hallmark movie.

So why the fuck did I fall asleep thinking about Roy Kent and the bottle of scotch we shared?

~

For two more weeks, Roy stayed away. Two. Miserable. Weeks.

He went through the motions. Trained with Jamie. Worked with the Greyhounds at Nelson Road. Hung out with Phoebe. Coached the girls’ football team. Read. Went to yoga.

And the whole time, he thought about her.

They’d glance at each other in the halls, stand on opposite sides of the room when their teams or coaching staffs were together, and both seemed to look a bit sadder at the sound of each other’s voice. Roy’s only consolation was that she looked almost as melancholy as he did.

Almost.

Every now and then, he’d allow himself to glance at her through the shared window between their offices. And sometimes, he’d see her look at her mobile and smile, a little giddy grin that reminded him of the way she’d looked at him the night of the gala and made his heart twist like the braids he sometimes did for Phoebe.

He was thinking of that smile when he sat with Jamie in some pub, silently staring at the pint in front of him as Jamie went on and on about how proud he was of Sam for perfecting a play they’d spent so much of training working on.

“Roy? Roy? ’re you listening?”

Roy gave his head a shake, clearing his throat. “Fuck’d you say?”

Jamie’s pout was full of pity; Roy wanted to punch that look off his fucking face. “Thinkin’ about her, huh?”

Like there was any point in lying. “Just… I dunno. Feel like everything’s so fucked, ya know?” Roy sighed. “Don’t really know what to do.”

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

Roy stared at Jamie for a moment. “Have you paid attention to anything I’ve told you over the last couple of weeks? Or are you actually as stupid as you look?”

“Come on.” Jamie shrugged. “You two never really talked about what happened. Sounds like she thinks it was just a one-night stand. So, ask her on a proper date. Wine an’ dine her! Woo her!” He sipped his pint, savoring the treat his coach’s wallowing had afforded him. “Show her you care about her, for fuck’s sake. Make all this shit worth it. Plus, then if the photos do come out, it’s not a big deal. You’d be a couple, not just some fling. That’s a lot harder to make a scandal out of.”

Fuck. Sometimes, by some miracle worthy of being written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, Jamie Tartt had a good fucking idea.

Of course. Roy’d been so stupid, letting her linger on this idea that that night didn’t mean something to him. Of course, it meant something to him. Hell, it could even mean everything to him if he let his mind wander to those places he’d been avoiding since they first met.

He’d ask her out. He’d take her on a proper date. He’d tell her how he felt. He’d admit to himself how he felt.

Roy Kent might actually get a happy ending for once in his miserable life.

He walked into Nelson Road feeling lighter than he had in a while. During training he was shockingly affable, joking with his team and offering more praise than usual. He even ignored the smug glances Jamie kept shooting him and the wink the striker offered Roy as the Greyhounds hit the showers after a long, long day.

The Whippets were already finished for the day, so, with the Dog Track quiet and nearly empty, he stuck his head into their coaching office, where Bucky was alone, poring over her playbook. With a deep breath, he softly rapped on the wall.

When she glanced over her shoulder, she actually offered him a smile.

“Hiya, Coach,” she greeted with a polite nod. No coldness, no anger, no awkwardness. It wasn’t the enthusiastic welcome he’d hoped for, but it was definitely an improvement.

Roy cleared his throat. “How’re you?”

With a shrug, she closed her book and turned her chair around to face him. “Fine. Yourself?”

“Yeah. Good, good.” He knocked his fists together absently. “Listen, I was wondering if we could talk? I wanted to know-”

The buzzing of her phone interrupted him. “One sec.” She glanced at the screen; there was smile again. “I’ve gotta go.” She stood, tugging her bag over her shoulder. “But, um, maybe we could chat tomorrow? After our run? I’ve gotta catch up on Lust Conquers All.”

Roy’s heart fucking soared. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” was her soft answer as she took a couple steps closer to the door, closer to Roy. “I mean, it’s been a couple of weeks, and nothing’s been published. I think we can risk running in our own weight room, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yeah. Definitely.” For once, Roy didn’t give a shit if he sounded dumb. “We’ll chat tomorrow then.”

She nodded as she passed by him, still grinning. “Good night, Coach.”

“G’night,” he called after her, smiling at her receding figure.

Fuck yes.

Roy returned to his desk, resisting the urge to whistle as he answered a couple of emails and looked over some new plays Nate had left for him. He felt so damn good as he left the Dog Track that he decided to treat himself to a pint, maybe plan how to ask her out.

I really enjoyed having a drink together. Think we could do that again sometime?

Could I take you out to dinner?

Bucky. I really fucking like you. I’d like to take you out. On a real date.

He parked his car and strolled down the sidewalk, words flittering in and out of his head. With a spring in his limp, he nodded in acknowledgement to the people who smiled at him, as opposed to his usual scowl-and-growl. When he turned the corner to head to the pub he had in mind, he stopped dead in his tracks.

She was right there. Sitting at a little patio table of some restaurant, staring in the opposite direction with a lovely, wistful expression, all alone.

Roy perked up. He should go say hi. Maybe he didn’t have to wait until after their run for that chat. He could walk up to her right now and just blurt it out. Fuck waiting. He’d done enough of that. Could I take you on a date sometime? She was probably with Lucas, who wouldn’t mind if Roy stole her away…

As he took a step in her direction, his stupid heart sank.

Because the universe had a personal grudge against Roy Kent, he had to watch as George fucking Willows walked outside holding two glasses. He stopped at that table, where he bent down and kissed her cheek as he sat beside her. She smiled- that same giddy smile- and leaned close to speak to him. The two of them laughed and shared a kiss, looking like the picture of absolute bliss.

Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, Roy turned on his heel and speed-walked back towards his car. Fucking idiot. Stupid, fucking Roy.

His phone buzzed. With a groan, he pulled it out, figuring it was his sister needing emergency baby-sitting, or Jamie sending him some stupid meme.

Instead, it was a message from Rebecca with a picture attached.

My office. First thing tomorrow.

We need to talk.

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19 @rae4725 @burnafter-reading @her-fandom-sanctum @infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996 @amatswimming @meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6 @netflix-addict @paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111 @bonesbonesetc @seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725 @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @littleesilvia @anonurs @itswhateveripromise

[marymary-diva17]

We see you

Female lani and Jake x neytiri

Living in the shadows of parents and siblings that seem to never do anything wrong, and be picture perfect can really affected someone. That had become lani life she was always been compared to her parents and siblings, she had been told why couldn't she be like them and why did she have to be so different. She had always seen other parent say they see their children by she had never heard those words, come from his parents lips she just once wanted to be see by them.

Lani " what I don't understand what you mean"

tonowari " lani I think it will be best if you and my son don't continue the relationship you two have going on"

lani " is that what Tsireyo wishes"

tonowari " looks lani you are a good girl but you are my son are not perfect together"

lani " I care about him and like him and he does the same for me"

tonowari " my wife and the clan elders along with the clan other think, the relationship is not for best for the clan and my family"

y/n " ......."

tonowari " please respect the wishes of everyone and maybe, you two are meant for each other ..."

ronal " maybe she living delusional world of her own making"

tonowari " ronal"

ronal " my son is density to become the mate with women that special, and one with the great mother ... that is not you as can't seem to do anything right to your family and clan along with our clan... your relationship with my son has already brought doom to the clan and will bring more doom"

lani " ....."

ronal " so do everyone a favor and leave my son alone and stop being selfish, as you actions don't just effected tsireyo they effected the rest of my family and yours as well"

tonowari " ronal i will speak with her"

ronal " please understand where I'm coming from lani " ronal soon walked off from them.

tonowari " please I'm sorry for what has happen but you and him can stay friends but nothing else" tonowari soon left the girl alone as she was trying to understand everything that happened.

later that night

lani " ......"

neteyam " hey lani tsireyo was asking for you"

tuk and spider " ohhh"

tsu'tey " this sounds interesting"

norm " tsu'tey"

neteyam " he was wondering why you haven't came to join us today"

kiri " he was we are worried when you didn't come by"

Jake " kiddo why didn't you join your siblings today"

lani " i was busy at all"

neytiri " oh with what we have heard about everyone else day"

lani " I was exploring that all mom nothing else"

neteyam " you know maybe we can get you and tsireyo some on some work tomorrow, it will be fun and he been working on using a bow maybe you can help him"

lani " i does think that appropriate"

Jake " oh come on it will be fine you kids can date if you wish to at this age"

neytiri " your father is right my children"

mo'at " my granddaughter we have all seen the way you and tsireyo are with each other, and you two are perfect"

lani " we are from two different worlds"

Jake " so are many of there other couples in the clan and they are working out well"

neytiri " yes"

neteyam " see if mom and dad like him then tsireyo good"

spider " see he had nothing to be worried about"

kiri " spider"

Jake " what do you mean young man"

spider " well he was worried you two might not like him"

neytiri " well he wrong lani my daughter you should invite him over for dinner it will be good"

neteyam " wouldn't that give off the idea of romance and maybe courting between the two"

Jake " well I and your mother don't mind that tsireyo a good boy"

lani " can we all stop with this talk about me and tsireyo, when there it was all my delusion and foolish childish dreams that he will ever be with me when I have demon blood and nothing worthy of being with him" everyone had gotten quite after those words had came out of lani mouth.

neytiri " lani ..."

lani " I'm not hungry anymore excuse me please I'm sorry for ruining the meal" lani soon goy jump quickly she felt like she was going to cry.

everyone " lani lani lani come back" lani didn't wait as she ran off from the family home and kept on running until she couldn't, run anymore she soon sat on some rocks. She had dropped her feet and legs into the water as she sat there with tears falling down her face.

???? " may we join you" lani had soon looked back to see her parents standing there, she had wippeder away the tears and said nothing. She had nodded her head as her parents walked slowly to her and sat, down next to her either one of them say anything.

Jake “ we heard what had happened”

lani " how did you hear about it"

neytiri " well after you ran off some members of the clan had come by and told us of the words, that had been spoken to you by tonowari and ronal"

lani " I'm sorry for lashing out on everyone in the family and causing some issues with tonowari and ronal"

Jake " sweetie you have nothing to be sorry about we wish we knew, what had taken place early today but know if we were there your mother would of done something"

neytiri " ma Jake I will defend our daughter honor and name how dare that women act all high and mighty, and say our girl is not good enough for them they are not worthy of her anymore"

lani " mom"

neytiri " listen my daughter I don't care you have sky people blood in you, that makes you special and I love that about you my sweet daughter and if no one else can see that then at on them no you"

lani " thanks mom"

Jake " we love you baby girl and we see you" lani soon smiled after hearing those words coming from her father.

Jake " if that boy can't fight for you and wants to listen to his parents, that that on him and them"

lani " ......."

Jake " listen baby girl we love you and you have been making us proud"

lani " i have"

Jake " yes making sure everyone is okay after coming here helping your grandmother, and take care of you baby sister and trying you best to fit in here ... then taking the blame for someone else actions along with giving someone who was deemed an outcast a chance"

y/n " thanks dad"

neytiri " we know life has been hard for you but what you have faced and overcome has made us proud" neytiri and Jake looked at their daughter she has been changing, since they came here it made them happy but sad as well seeing her growing up.

Jake " do you wish for us to speak with tonowari and ronal"

lani " no I'm good I rather not have a conversation with them at the moment, and if we do I might say something that will change the relationships for everyone"

neytiri " yes my daughter"

Jake " hey if tsireyo is not the one now or ever you will meet someone else, that will fight to be with you sweetie and not care what anyone else has to say"

lani " thank you dad I will still hold out hope for tsireyo I hope he does come around but I understand if he doesn't, and will accept his wishes" Jake and neytiri had nodded their heads and hugged lani, the trio soon retuned homed where lani had been hugged again by the rest of her family. She was happy that she had been able to speak about what happened and get help from her family, but she was also happy that all finally saw her and they are very proud of her as well. That all she need right now at the moment maybe she will keep the relationship she has with everyone now, no matter what everyone else says and does.

[padfootagain]

Where We Kept Our Magic (I)

How We Met

Hello everyone ! I know what you are all going to think ‘holy shit, Carole is back with a new series AGAIN how many of these does she have?!’ The answer is simple : a) I have no self -control whatsoever hence the numerous series, b)there is no excuse, I’m simply a very messy writer. However, so far, I’m keeping up with all the series, so… let’s see!

This series is a little peculiar, because it is not meant to be a real series. This will be made of scenes and snippets that are independent from one another (more or less) taken at different moments in an AU. But there isn’t one major plot binding the whole series together. The concept is simply to explore the idea of Sirius dating a muggle reader, nothing more. Each chapter = one moment in their lives. I’m starting off with how they’ve met, but the following chapter might not even be posted in chronological order, we’ll see. The idea is really to just have a collection of moments, that’s all.

Also, a huge thank you to @damalseer and @reg-arcturus-black because we’ve talked about this fic together, and I have listened to their amazing concepts for this.

Now, that being said, I hope you all like this cute concept! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter (one mention of weed and none of the characters smoke) except for extreme fluffiness that might lead to cavities or a melting of the heart.

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 3747

Masterlist for the series - Sirius Black's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The music is loud, maybe too much so. Banging your head under the neon lights, you get dizzy after a while. It’s hot, full of people, an underground concert somewhere in Soho. Your friend has dragged you here, and you’ve sneaked out of your parents’ house to come. They will kill you if they notice your absence.

You’re sweaty, but you can’t say that you care. Your make up is smeared by now, eyeliner getting away from your eyes, and you don’t mind. You bang your head to the music still, some rock band you didn’t know before coming here. Still, they’re good enough, they make you jump up and down like a mad woman and that’s exactly what you need. You’re seventeen, you’re young, you want to be free. And as you let the music in, let it shake your body and echo with your heartbeat, you do feel like you’re breaking barriers, even if it can’t last beyond this night.

Your friend is shouting, and screaming along the song even if she doesn’t know the lyrics, and you laugh at her. It feels good. It feels liberating… Rock’n roll and Soul and the blurred scent of weed.

“I told you it would be awesome!” Jackie shouts, sending a wink your way through her pink heart-shaped glasses.

“It is!” you nod in agreement, screaming above the music while jumping up and down some more.

“Worse getting in trouble?”

“I’m not thinking about that right now!”

“No?”

“Right now, I’m enjoying myself! I can worry on my way home!”

“Now! That’s the spirit! You know what? You deserve a beer, rebel girl!”

You laugh at that, and let Jackie disappear through the crowd to get some beer from an illegal bar at the back of the room. You’re seventeen, you’re way too young to drink, and you don’t give a damn.

The beat drops, it makes your ribcage tremble, it shakes your brain, you’re dizzy again. You don’t wait for Jackie to be back, instead, you jump and clap along to the rhythm of the song. You only slow down when you have a strange feeling, like someone is staring at you…

And indeed, when you turn around, you notice a guy looking at you, a couple of rows behind.

Tall. Long dark-hair. Even from afar he seems extremely handsome, but the cold kind of beauty that fits better to a statue than to a living thing. Unreachable. Yes, that’s what is painted all over his features. Someone to admire from afar. A leather jacket, a Queen t-shirt. You can’t see his legs, but you bet on some dark jeans. He looks like trouble. An awful lot of it… And as he stares at you, you can’t help but find him intimidating.

But then, he notices that you’re looking at him, and his lips curve into a small, crooked smile. And you kind of like it.

You turn away again, though, and Sirius averts his gaze as well. This is ridiculous, anyway. He’s in Muggle London, at an illegal concert, getting drunk with James, Remus and Peter and this… You’re probably a Muggle, like everyone around him except for his fellow Marauders. He’s spotted you through the crowd: with your woollen crop-top, your flared jeans, and the bandana in your hair, you look like a hippie.

But he’s a Wizard, you’re off-limits. Too complicated, especially for him.

Instead, he raises his cup to drink some beer, but he finds the glass empty. He mumbles some insult under his breath.

“I’ll get some beer,” he tells James, his friend nodding but too busy dancing to properly answer.

And Sirius smiles bright at the sight of his best friend, his brother, grinning and having the time of his life, sweaty and hair even more dishevelled than usual, glasses lopsided upon his nose.

They’ve been back from Hogwarts for a couple of weeks, it’s their first night out since they’ve come back to the Potters. It’s Sirius’s first summer having a real home. And so far he loves it, and tonight more than ever. They’ve sneaked out of the Potters’ house to get on the Knight Bus and travel to Soho for this concert Remus had heard about through a Muggle friend of his. And Sirius loves it. Every second of it. His friends, the beat of the music through his ribcage, the lights, the shouts, the guitar screaming, the banging of his head to the rhythm… He loves it. He feels free. He’s been feeling that way since he ran from his parents the previous summer. It hits him with full strength now that he’s out of this mess, that he can be whoever he wants. He’s broken free, it feels a lot like flying, same exhilarating feeling.

He moves across the crowd to get a drink. He’s seventeen, too young to drink, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything tonight. Tonight is for fun, only. His problems, the struggles of his world… that can wait for tomorrow.

The bar is at the back of the same room as the concert, the music is still as loud as it was when he was in the middle of the crowd, dancing. He points at his empty plastic cup while mouthing another beer to the waiter. The middle-aged man doesn’t ask questions. He’s smoking something, and Sirius isn’t sure it’s a mere cigarette. Sirius admires the tattoos on the man’s arms, intricate details painted with black ink. He wants to look like that. He wants to be tattooed, he’s been thinking about it for a while. He’ll get his first one during the summer, it’s decided…

He thanks the waiter and pays for his beer, but Sirius doesn’t get very far. He’s barely turned towards the stage again that someone bumps into him, and half of his beer is now wetting his favourite t-shirt.

“Oh fuck! Dick! Can’t you watch were you’re…”

But he looks up and his voice dies out when he falls into your eyes.

He’s only looked at you from afar, but he recognizes you in an instant. It’s weird. Like… like he knows you already. Like he’s drawn to you, for some reason.

His voice is much lower when he speaks again.

“…going.”

Your eyes are wide-open, you apologize profusely. You almost seem afraid of him.

And you are, for a part. Sirius is even more intimidating up-close. And his voice is deep and cold, and yet you love it. You love the deep, tumultuous sound. And his eyes are of a deep grey, like a summer sky before a thunder-storm, almost black under the blinking light of the concert. He’s much taller than you, it doesn’t help with the cold calmness that oozes from his frame, a feeling of something dangerously beautiful, almost aristocratic.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry…” you keep on saying that, and it takes Sirius a moment to finally react. He has to blink a couple of times before that.

Because you look beautiful like this, under the blinking lights. You are a hippie, you have the complete set of clothes, and he loves it, you look adorable. There’s something wild and determined in your gaze too, he doesn’t really know what it is, but it makes him feel safer anyway. You’re almost intimidating, in a way…

“No, it’s me. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and he wonders why he’s acting almost shy now, he can feel a blush spreading across his features.

You notice his reddened cheeks, and you can’t refrain a smile. He looks cuter this way, almost kind.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m clumsy as fuck, sometimes,” he speaks, but the music is too loud, you can’t catch all the words.

“I’ll pay you another drink,” you offer, speaking loudly so he can hear you, but he shakes his head.

“No, no! It’s fine.”

“I’ve ruined it.”

“Not at all. I mean… kind of. But it’s fine. You didn’t mean it.”

You’re staring at each other, and it is very strange because… because you can feel that he’s trouble and yet you can’t seem to look away. He’s a good kind of trouble, you reckon. Not the classic bad boy, there’s something more layered into these dark eyes, and you want to know what it is all about. You don’t know why you feel like you know him, already. Like… like you’re drawn to him.

He's opened his mouth to speak again when Jackie shouts your name, grinning as she spots you, and you turn towards her.

“I was looking for my friend over there. She went to get us drinks.”

“I see.”

“Sorry again for the beer.”

Before Sirius can add anything you’ve turned around and you’re disappearing through the crowd, following Jackie, and Sirius remains standing there, with his glass half-empty and his wet t-shirt stinking of beer…

It takes him a moment to shake himself out of his thoughts, to look for the guys in the crowd again, to join them once more.

He’s barely reached the group that James turns to him with a mischievous grin that clearly means trouble.

“So… found a pretty lady, Padfoot?”

Sirius rolls his eyes.

“She bumped into me and now…”

He shows his drenched t-shirt, but James is not fooled, and neither are Peter and Remus, who are shaking their heads at their friend.

“That’s why you were blushing, of course,” Remus teases him, earning himself a punch in the arm.

“Fuck off, Moony!”

“He’s right, though,” Peter adds with a chuckle. “You were mesmerized!”

“I was not!”

“You should ask her out!” James encourages his friend. “She’s over there!”

Sirius follows the direction his friend is pointing, and you’re there alright. You’re dancing again, struggling a little because of your drink. You throw your head back as you laugh at your friend… you’re charming, really, even from afar…

But Sirius shakes his head, drinking some beer instead.

“Muggle,” is his only answer, barely audible above the loud music, as Sirius is more careful now.

But his three friends roll their eyes in unison.

“Come on, Pads!” Remus encourages him as well.

“Too complicated,” Sirius shakes his head.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious! It’s summer! You could have a fling, for a couple of months,” Peter argues.

And Sirius is hesitant now. His friend is right. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can merely be a fling… nothing serious…

“Besides, maybe she isn’t even nice!” Remus jumps in again, still rubbing his painful arm. “You should talk to her, while you still can.”

While you still can… Why does Sirius feel such an urgency all of a sudden? As if… as if he has so much to lose, when he hasn’t, really. You’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name…

He wants to know it though.

He heaves a sigh, one last hesitation, before he downs his drink in one large gulp, and strides across the crowd towards you.

His heart is beating so fast, and he doesn’t even know why, because… he doesn’t know. There are no stakes whatsoever. So, why is he nervous?

You don’t notice him until he’s right by your side, and Jackie frowns at him, wondering who the hell he is.

You freeze when you turn to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey?”

Your voice is too shy, he can’t hear you, but he guesses what you said by the movement of your lips.

“I… I was wondering… would you like a drink?”

He’s cursing himself for not looking as confident as usual. He’s never stuttered like that in front of a girl before.

You seem to hesitate, and he shoots you a crooked smile. It’s charming, but it still looks a little shy. You really love that…

“I’ve kind of changed my mind about the beer,” he jokes, and it’s enough to make you smile.

Behind you, you feel Jackie’s finger poking at your side, and you know what she means without looking at her. You can hear her voice, what she would say, her exact words.

Handsome bloke who seems to be our age. You’d better say yes!

And you’ve come here tonight to feel free. No consequences for now, no trouble, you’ll think about those once you try to sneak back into your parents’ house. For now, you’re in this crazy concert, under blinking neon lights, this guy is gorgeous and there’s something pulling you to him and… and it’s enough. At least, it’s enough for a drink.

“Alright, but I’m the one who owns you a drink. So, I’m buying.”

He grins at that, agreeing with a nod, and you walk towards the bar again.

You buy Sirius his drink, but the music seems even louder than before, and when he tries to speak to you, you can’t hear a thing.

After a second try, he leans closer to speak into your ear. So close, you can smell cigarettes, leather, beer and something of citrus on him. Your head spins a little…

“Mind stepping out for a minute?”

He reads on your face that he’s scared you away. You look up at him with worried eyes, and he curses himself for it.

After all, he still looks intimidating, with his cross earing, the pentagram pendant around his neck, his charming smile…

Is he simply a teenager? Or a psychopath? No one can know, after all… and you’re just seventeen, and he’s a stranger, and you ought to be careful.

He leans closer again, and you force yourself not to breathe his scent too deeply, not to close your eyes when you feel his breath graze the skin right behind your ear.

“We can stay by the door. But it’s too loud here.”

As if to prove a point, he points at his ear, then his throat. And he’s right, of course. If you want to talk, even for five minutes, you can’t do it here.

You slowly nod, going on your tiptoes. He bends a little to bring his ear to your level.

“I’ll warn my friend then.”

He nods with a smile, lets you cross the crowd.

You warn Jackie, she tells you she’ll check on you in ten minutes, just in case. And you’re grateful for it.

Meanwhile, Sirius throws a glance towards his friends, and they all give him some thumb-ups and some ridiculous grins, and he rolls his eyes.

You come back after a mere minute, and you let him guide you upstairs again.

It’s the end of spring, the beginning of summer, but the night is still fresh, cooled down by a small breeze. It sends shivers across your skin, but that’s a nice feeling. It clears your head a little bit. After the loud sound of the concert, the lights, the crowd, the shouts… it feels good to step outside in the quiet of a night in London.

A car drives by, there’s the rushed whisper of the wind in nearby trees, but that’s about it, really. A few people are taking a break from the show too, gathered in small clusters all along the backstreet where you stand now. As a reflex, you step closer to a lamppost, looking for the light. A lost moth in a dark street…

Sirius takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket, and offers you one, but you decline. He lights one up for himself.

“Do you like the concert so far?” he asks after taking his first drag.

“Yeah, it’s fun! I didn’t know the band before tonight though, so… not great to sing along!”

“Didn’t know them either. I came with a friend, he’s the one who knew the band. They’re good, though.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“You came with a friend too, right?”

“Yeah, with Jackie! She kind of… dragged me here, to be honest.”

“I’m grateful she did.”

There’s flirt in his tone, and you can’t help but shy away. And you look adorable like this, Sirius loves it. But then again, you don’t seem comfortable yet, and he wants you to be so.

“We can go back whenever you want, you know? It’s fine if you prefer to find back your friend,” he offers.

And you genuinely consider accepting, walking back inside and run away with Jackie but then again… you don’t really want to. Because Sirius is beyond handsome like this: smoking, tilting his head to the side a little as he waits for an answer, his face bathed in the golden light of the lamppost.

And you love his voice. Deep, much warmer than before. More welcoming. Charming…

“It’s okay, I’m just… not really used to going to concerts like that and… this…”

He smiles at that, a smile more earnest, brighter too, and you like it. He doesn’t seem so scary now…

“Neither am I, to be honest.”

“You look like the part, though,” you joke, pointing at his leather jacket, his t-shirt, his combat boots. He laughs at that, and you find that you like the sound. It’s brighter than you expected it would be.

“True but… let’s say that I didn’t often have the opportunity to come to this kind of things. Besides, I’m still young. Plenty of time to catch up with that now.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

You seem to relax at that.

“I’m seventeen too.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile crooked again, near a smirk, and you like it. You really do.

“Are you still in high school?” you ask him, and he nods.

“Yeah, huh… boarding school.”

“Oh, I see. It must be nice to see your parents during the summer.”

But he merely smiles, and doesn’t answer. You silently curse yourself for obviously touching a nerve.

It’s alright though, Sirius doesn’t mind. He doesn’t reckon that it’s a conversation fit for such a night though, so he changes the topic and guides it towards you again, and finally asks for your name.

“Y/N,” you answer with a smile, and he finds that he adores the sight of it; it’s infectious, he wants to smile too now. “What about you?”

“Sirius. Sirius Black. I know, weird name.”

“Pretty though.”

You exchange a grin, but the gesture is shy for both of you.

Damn, Sirius’s throat tightens, and he’s a ball of nerves, really. He doesn’t know what it is about you that just… makes him lose his cool. But he loves it. It’s endearing. And you’re worth it. He can feel it.

He guides the conversation towards you again, and ten minutes fly by, and you forget all about Jackie who’s supposed to check up on you. Sirius is on his second cigarette, and you don’t even notice her when she smiles at the sight of the two of you and decides to leave you alone and head back for the end of the show.

You talk for a long time, actually. You’ve relaxed as the minutes flew by, you feel good now. You don’t cling that much to the light of the lamppost, you’re turned fully towards Sirius instead. Another source of light, even if this one seems more complex.

You talk for a long while, so long that people start flooding the street as the show ends. You’re both running out of time… and neither of you want to say goodbye just yet.

But it’s late. Very late, the night is heavy and the moon is declining. You must go home, and so does he.

He takes a deep breath, before diving.

“Would that be too much to ask for, if I wanted to go on a date with you?”

But you’re not so hesitant anymore, and you grin up at him.

“That would be nice.”

Sirius grins, his heart skipping a few beats.

“What about some dinner?” he offers, remembering an Italian restaurant where Remus has taken them before. “On Friday?”

But you can’t afford to take the risk of your parents saying no, and going out with a stranger on a Friday night is a lot to ask for…

“What about lunch, instead?”

Sirius merely shrugs.

“Sure. Okay. Let’s do that. There’s an Italian restaurant a couple of streets away. Let’s meet there at noon.”

“Okay.”

The two of you exchange a grin, that turns into shy chuckles.

“Alright, I’ll see you at noon next Friday, then, Y/N. And… thanks again for the drink.”

“I owed you one.”

“Still nice to be offered drinks by such a pretty girl.”

He expects you to shy away but you laugh instead.

“Wow, what a lousy line!”

He’s a little taken aback, but he likes it. You fire back; he likes that.

“It was an amazing line!”

“No, it was terrible. All it was missing was a good old wink…”

Sirius shoots you a grin and flirtatious wink in response, and you hate yourself for letting your heart miss a beat at the sight, but you can hardly help it. You laugh harder still, the sound infectious, so much so that Sirius chuckles too.

“Well, for our date, please, work on your flirt,” you tease him, and he decides that he adores this side of you…

“Very well, ma’am.”

You exchange one last smile, but you can’t buy yourself more time. And Sirius knows that he’s staring a little too much, but he can’t help it. He just wants to remember you perfectly, waiting for this date.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Be safe to go home.”

Your smile grows fonder.

“Thank you. Same to you, be careful, it’s very late. Goodnight, Sirius.”

He wants to bend down and kiss your cheek, raise his fingers to the edge of your jaw to touch your skin, judge how soft it is by himself. But he’s afraid to go too fast, to scare you away again, so he doesn’t. He looks at you as you walk towards Jackie instead, as you walk down the alley and disappear by the corner. The boys are waiting for him, amused smiles on their lips, but Sirius doesn’t notice them. He merely stares at you instead.

And you want to go on your tip-toes and kiss his cheek, rest a hand on his shoulder to see if it’s as strong as it seems to be. But you’re afraid to go too fast, to scare him away, so you don’t. You turn around instead, looking for Jackie, and you walk away, leaving Sirius alone under the light of the lamppost. But then you disappear, and he steps out of the light.

**************************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites @wolfmoonmusic

[honeybee-bard]

Writing Interview Tag Game

My internet is finally back! Thank you to @nyx-knox for the tag. It's a long one, so buckle the fuck up y'all.

When did you start writing?

I'm the child of two English majors and I wrote little stories in my journals as a kid, probably as young as five or six. I started writing fanfiction specifically when I was about 15 and wrote Ed Sheeran smut and putting it on tumblr, which I absolutely should not have been doing for internet safety reasons but what's done is done and tbh it was some solid writing. I then stopped writing for an entire decade due to mental health issues. I started writing my Falling Star fic in...April, probably? So between that and my WIPs, I went a decade without writing and then suddenly pumped out a couple hundred thousand words in less than six months. Go big or go home I guess!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Honestly, not really. I'm a slut for spawn Astarion smut what can I say.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

There are none I can remember ever being compared to, but there are lots of other fic writers that I try to learn a little from each time I read their work.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I still live at home, so my writing space is at my gaming PC at the desk in my bedroom. The entire place is a huge mess and tbh it stresses me out a little but I have a lot going on right now so it is what it is. There's usually coffee and/or weed within arm's reach when I'm writing.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Something that's really surprised me in my return to creative writing is how easily inspiration has continued coming to me. Sometimes I worry that I'll lose it, but I keep having more ideas than I can get onto paper, and I've just barely begun exploring writing characters other than Astarion and Wynlana, so I think I'll have enough inspiration to continue writing for a very long time.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Smut! So much of it! And it doesn't surprise me in the slightest because I am a terrible, horny little goblin bastard.

What is your reason for writing?

I love my job (I work in early childhood education), but I realized it was at the point where it was taking over my entire life. I went on medical leave after having top surgery, and I decided to spend a lot of the time writing. Having a creative outlet has been very good for me, and the added motivation of people actually liking it has been a huge confidence boost.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

One of the first comments I got was complimenting my prose and how everything flowed and I think about it nearly every time I write. Those had been some of my biggest concerns that delayed me posting the first few chapters of the fic, so that comment really meant a lot.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I'd never really thought much about this tbh. I think a lot about how my writing will be perceived, but not so much about how I as a writer might be perceived. I care way too much about what people think of me irl so it's a nice break tbh

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I'm a stubborn bitch which means I'll keep rewriting and reworking a scene until I'm truly proud of it. There have been scenes I've had to change significantly or cut for various reasons, but not many I've scrapped entirely. I'm very persistant.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Honestly, pretty confident! I thoroughly enjoy re-reading what I've written, and all of the feedback I've gotten so far has been positive. It's been a boost to my irl mental health to have something I both enjoy and am good at outside of work, and it's nice for it to be something lower stakes than "keeping 5+ toddlers at a time from trying to kill themselves in the most creative ways possible". I love them, but it's a lot of pressure!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Everything I write is something I've decided I might enjoy writing, but sometimes I write something and get really excited knowing my readers are going to love it. The other day I was editing an emotional scene and couldn't wait to show my beta reader because I knew she was going to love it.

No-pressure tags (sorry if any of you have done it already and I just didn't see lol): @bardic-inspo @pinkberrytea @locallegume @marlowethebard @kimberbohwrites