#barnaby's chair

[fancypantsrecords]

Various Artists - Hypnospace Outlaw Original Soundtrack | Fangamer | 2022 | Clear

[iliketodrawstuffilike]

Been taking a break today while drawing!✨✍️

Anyway, here’s a Frankie that been I’ve drawing for a long while now that have it yet to post more about…💚🦋💛✨✍️🥰

Also, she’s a mother!✨🟢🪲🟢✨💛💚🦋👩‍🍼🐶💙🩵✨🟢🪲🟢✨

This is a baby Barnabell btw, But she does treat her as if she were her child😊✨

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Why has Barnaby made TWO hospital visits in one year??? What was the first one about??? [<-Talking about the Human AU]

no yeah the first one was Howdy's brief stint (a couple hours) for the whole smoke inhilation minor injuries from the fire thing.

the second one was for Wally's festive lil car crash where he comes very close to Fuckign Dying!!! and. well. technically there are many different visits for that one cause he's in the hospital for a hot sec, but yk. technically only two hospital-worthy events

[captainlightner]

just realized the rest of the barnaby(s chair) songs are on spotify not just satellite huge win

[blue-stripe]

drew this kotetsu for the dilf kotetsu calendar zine on twitter, which is free! my theme was mafia boss

[looniecartooni]

You’ve seen baby Dimitri, now get ready for...

Baby Barnaby!!!

[mxcottonsocks]

If anyone's wondering what Dickens is talking about in Barnaby Rudge when he talks about London chairs and chairmen, it's Sedan Chairs, which were something like this:

Travel by chair was apparently just passing out of use around about the time Barnaby Rudge was being published, so Dickens probably didn't feel the need to elaborate as he does with some of the other aspects of the historical setting, like street lighting.

[emerald194]

Is this anything

Hmmmm.....

[mobileleprechaun]

The Pea

I'm very hung up on the symbolism of this dish, particularly with how it pertains to Eddie and his episode of severe emotional distress.

Eddie was all alone in his post office when we found him. Although he refused to state this outright, it was clear he was feeling excluded and forgotten by his neighbors. We have often seen him pushed to the margins of the community, only sought out for his utility to the others.

Barnaby openly delights in scaring and tormenting him, Howdy overworks him without sparing a second thought to his needs, Julie only calls upon him when she someone who's easy to drag into a game, Sally refuses to address him by name and treats his attempts at social connection with disdain, Wally and Poppy only have fleeting interactions with him, and Frank hides his burgeoning fondness behind a facade of cordial indifference.

The pea is alone, too, isolated on the stark white backdrop of the plate.

"Take care not to place them too close together." Even if there are more "peas" at this party, Eddie sits alone in Home's chair, denied the basic creature comforts of intimacy as he watches the others mingle.

The pea is also a pittance to Eddie. It is presented to him right after Sally's single, small attempt to show him goodwill, which she only bothers to do because it's a holiday.

She still does not address him by his name. The gesture, the pea, and the seat are all mere crumbs – too little, too late for a neglected outsider who struggles to make sense of the lonely, awful torment of his life in this Neighborhood, one which he cannot properly articulate for fear of sounding ungrateful.

Home stares him down from his lonely seat. Its presence is monolithic and ominous, a towering figure that only makes him feel more small and alone.

Is it intruding on his mind on purpose, trying to hurt him? Personally, I don't think so, though it still remains to be seen. His words to Frank at the end are telling, though. "I want to go home."

Whether it means to or not, Home torments him with its very being. It's both the elephant and the room. Eddie is an outsider. Eddie can't remember where he's from. Eddie sleeps in a post office after thanklessly running himself ragged every day. Home is the very reason for this holiday, and Eddie is homeless. It's staring him down because it's a symbol of everything he aches for, but cannot have.

Eddie is the single pea on Home's plate. Take care not to place him too close to anyone else.

[yandereaffections]

Great to see you back! Could I request general yandere headcanons for Wally Darling? Can be either platonic or romantic. Thank you

The neighborhood has never seen Wally so fixated on a person before, not I'm such a similar way to how he treats items he admires like apples and painting. Whether you're apart of the town or someone who just managed to get lost enough to find themselves in this colorful place, you will feel his eyes on you whenever eye contact is accidentally made, trying to get more of your direct gaze.

Despite how it might seem with how Wally lurks around every corner, eyes never blinking with a natural if not nervous smile on his face, he is in no way a threat. You've been introduced to him via a friendly neighborhood welcome wagon for your first day living here, all of the nine residents were awfully kind yet wally was rather reserved. Everyone can tell his curiosity peeked during that gathering, Julie and Barnaby tried their best to encourage him to simply join them in a conversation with you but even then the only thing that came out his fleece mouth were a couple of awkward "Ha"'s and a few head nods. That was the day he felt the joy of holding your gaze, seeing the beauty in your eyes and never wanting to break it.

Wally may not be able to move his feet in your direction with the intent of introducing himself, out of fear that he won't be able to speak the words in his head and end up walking up to someone so gorgeous just to stare them down. However if it's you that comes up to him with a polite smile asking why he's been following you around, all the limitations in his head release it's hold on him

The moment Wally retreats into Home after stringing together words that used to struggle to leave his throat, apologizing to his newest neighbor and properly introducing himself, he can feel his heart beat against his chest while letting himself lean slack against Homes front door. The floorboards lift his arm chair in the center of the living room repeatedly, Home insisting Wally sit down as his cheeks turn red thinking of how your expression switched so quickly to a smile when he finally spoke to you.

With a hand pressed along the side of his face Wally sinks into his iconic chair, being to share all the details of his interaction with you to Home who's curtains sway every so often in response clearly as excited in wallys progression in relationship with their new favorite person

[lovelybunn]

some hugs n cuddles !ㅤ- feat. howdy, barnaby and eddie

warning(s): none.

author's note: y'know i just HAD to feed on the delusional fantasy by writing for the big boy trio... (also this is lowkey established relationship)

🐛  howdy pillar .

Howdy whistles contently to himself while organizing the shelves of his store. His work is cut short by the familiar jingle of the bell at the entrance, alerting him of your presence.  “Howdy, neighbor, welcome to my bodega! Anything you need, I got it for ya. How can I be of service?” Howdy greets you with a warm smile as you step inside.

You walk up to the front counter and clear your throat. “I know this is not what you're currently selling, but…” Howdy's big, buggy eyes twinkled, “What is it? I can get it in stock in a jiffy, if you'd like!” You awkwardly press your lips into a thin line and exclaim, “It's not a product.” 

“Oh?” He pauses. “Then what is it?” He asks slowly, the gentle baritone of his voice flowing through your eardrums. His eyebrows furrow and antennae shuffle with worry. You snicker and wave your hand dismissively, “Hey, don't give me that look! I wanted a hug!”

The frown on his fluffy face soon molded into a bright smile. "Oh, then why didn't ya just say that, lovebug?" He rushes over from behind the counter and swoops you off your feet. Howdy's lower pair of arms kept you up as he wraps his upper pair around your waist. He gently squeezes you close. "You're the cutest, (Name)!" The two of you giggle, giving sweet butterfly kisses against each other's noses.

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤheadcanons !

getting cuddles/hugs from this man is absolute heaven for ppl that are chronically touch starved (like me—)

howdy's two pairs of arms will give all the affection anyone would need in their entire life. like boy will have two arms wrapped around your waist, one hand caressing your cheek, and the last one intertwined with your fingers <333

he doesn't wanna bend over, so he'll pick u up alot tho… (he's old and carries boxes all the time, his back don't need all that, alr?)

he's very soft. he has fur/fluff. (yes, i am basing that off of clownsuu's design, and what?)

and i feel like he would just love holding you anyway. ur just so small compared to him and he wants to protect you, y'know?

i personally see howdy being the papa of the neighborhood, taking care of everyone alongside poppy (but he's a lil bit more strict than she is about it lmao)

hear me out on this one guys…. i know that most ppl portray him as this chatterbox, but he knows how and when to listen. 

howdy will make sure that u never feel unheard or unloved, the sweet boy will make it his mission to put a smile on that adorable face of urs

🌭 barnaby b beagle .

Barnaby slouches in the bench chair and sighs. He takes a bite out of his hotdog when his eyes trail to a familiar face, walking up to him. "Ah, ey, kiddo. Whatchu want?" He gives you a relaxed smile. "I wanted to ask you for something."

He tilts his head, eyebrow raised. "Hmm? Go on, I got time." You take in a deep breath, "Hey Barnaby, Can you…" You pause as he leans closer to you. "Can you hold me? I've had kinda a rough day, and you're my go-to." He takes the last bite of his hotdog and pats his lap. " 'Course, kid. You can stay as long as you like."

Just as soon as you get his permission, you're sitting with your back towards him, his big paws placed gently across your belly. His plump figure makes it easy for you to practically sink into him like a fresh new couch. He hums a contented tune near your ear; your face warms up into a joyful grin.

Barnaby glances at you, "Ey, kiddo." You hum in response. "Y'know, I think Sally got a little bit of some competition; your smile alone could light up this whole neighborhood." You roll your eyes, a slight snicker escaping from your lips. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." He held you closer, shaking his head. Barnaby's large thumb caresses the palm of your right hand, tracing circles around its surface. "Nah, hon. It's all truth. I mean, ya must be some kinda treat, cuz I always catch myself gawking at the sight of you."

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤheadcanons !

boy's soft and plump like a giant life size pillow fr <3333 (human or dog ver, idc)

for dog ver, he loves being scratched behind his big ol ears !!!

gives bear hugs unintentionally

does that circle thing with ur palm

the dog be cooking tho. no, fr, he is the best cook in the neighborhood (and his love language is literally food) so if u need some support, he'll whip it up and serve it to u on a silver platter !!

also puns for days.. he wants to make everyone smile and laugh, u included. barnaby cannot stand a frown on a fellow neighbor's face.

Uncle-That-Smokes-Weedcore ™

he gives the best advice (when he wants to, that is. sometimes he'll say something stupid to see if whoever he gave the advice to will actually do it ;D) why do u think wally tells the man everything?

💌 eddie dear .

Eddie quickly walks to the door of his post office, filled with gratitude for another great hard day's work. As soon as he walks through the door, you rush over to give him a tender embrace. He chuckles, “Hey there, darlin'! Did my babydoll miss me?” With your face buried in his chest, you muffle out a "Mhm." Eddie's face beams, patting your back. "Well, I missed you too, honey." He places three soft kisses on you, one on your forehead, and the other two on either cheek.

Eddie tries to move forward, but you don't budge. Your arms are glued tight to him. "Uh, darlin'...? I– I gotta get unready, y'know? Please let go of me." He chuckles nervously. He tries to sneakily pull your arms away, but you speak before he's given the chance. "You've been gone all day, dear. Can't I hug you a little while longer?" You look up at him. The pleading look in your eyes melts the poor mailman's heart within seconds. "Alright, alright, fine! But just for a few minutes. I'd like to change into less sweaty clothes at some point."

The two of you just relax there for a moment, limbs wrapped delicately around each other. Absent-mindedly, Eddie guides you into somewhat of a slow dance, and your bodies sway back and forth as you and Eddie sink deeper into one and other's touch. After about a minute, he kisses your forehead again, then pulls away. "You satisfied, love?" You smile and nod slowly, "Yes, very."

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤheadcanons !

smooches for dayssss

most days this golden retriever man will lift u up, spin u around and DROWN U in kisses, but (obv) on busier days, hes a lot more relaxed about it

his love language is words of affirmation (so lots of pet names if u couldn't tell)

hand-holding at all times (when given opportunity)

EDDIE DEAR IS A POET. BOY WRITES U LOVE LETTERS EVERY OTHER DAY, ALL OF WHICH IS HANDMADE, ALL THE WAY DOWN TO THE ENVELOPE.

is it weird that i see eddie and frank as my gay parents? (yeah we ARE the two gay married men w/ their autistic child trope.)

eddie would be that crazy country dad who would with zero hesitation pull a gun on someone hurting his baby

but fr, if u were feeling sad boy would pull out the arts and crafts and go bonkers with it. like "awh, yer sad??? let's make origami butterflies to make u feel better c:"

[inbloomwriting]

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

[soda-sparkss]

HOME-BOUND

Its me again, hi <3 I've made yet another Welcome Home Au called Home- Bound where You're on a Train to Escape Your Mundane Life. Every friendly neighbor has their own cart on the train, with Julie's being the first one you're seated at and Wally's being the conductor car. Make your way through this whimsical little train ride that seems to last for Eternity! Where are you headed? Who knows! Trying to Escape the train once you're on will result in a proper Punishment. If you get off before the train Stops, there will be no moving from the spot that you landed on. Any physical or emotional violence caused to the train will result in consequences varying in severity depending on how much damage you've done. Please do Remember that the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your H Oh, and one more thing! Don't Forget Your Ticket.

Cars are in order starting from the back. Sleeping/Boarding Car Jullie's Car Poppy's Car Sally's Car Howdy's Car Frank's Car Eddie's Car Barnaby's Car Wally's Car/Conductor Car

First off, We have our Humble Conductor, Wally Darling!

Being at the front of the Train, Wally has many responsibilities as a Conductor. Once you board the Train, he will come back to the Boarding Car to punch your Ticket. It is Imperative that you have it, lest you be sent right back to the station!

Second up is Barnaby B Beagle! Wally's very very very close "Friend".

In this lovely dog's car, he can be found cracking so many fun jokes! Heck, he has an entire book full of Comedy skits from passengers who were Fortunate enough to make it up to his car all the way from the Boarding car! Though, if you want to leave, you'll have to give him another skit to add to his book!

Next up is the darling Mailman, Eddie Dear!

This dearest mailman send out all the letters and Tickets to future Residents of the Home Bound Express. He's quite the workaholic, especially during the nighttime hours! If you happen to make it to his car, be in for a load of sorting letters, snacks, and lovely stories about all of his travels on the Train! Poor guy is a afraid of snails too..

Next up is the trains Librarian, Frank Frankly!

If you enter his car, you'll be greeted with books up the Wazoo! He will insist you look at any one that interests you. The books are written by him and consist an encyclopedia of facts about every existing bug on the planet. Not one bug left out! Unfortunately, if you want to leave, you'll have to take a quiz. Find a book about a specific bug he tells you about, read through it, and then tell him what you learned. Careful not to let the bookflies(book butterflies!) distract you! After you tell Frank the facts you learned, you have to navigate your way through a maze in the garden behind his library. Don't worry, the bugs will guide you!

Next up is the 'local' Grocer, Howdy Pillar!

Who can resist a Pillar who advertises his wares so well? He has everything from the little doodads to wild thingamajigs! Careful you don't get lost in the maze of his stock. If you want to leave, however, you must buy something or solve a little riddle of his!

Next up is the ONE AND ONLY!! Sally Starlet!

This Star is always putting on a Show!(With sleep and snack breaks, of course.) Her seemingly endless act will have you wrapped up in a world completely different from your own! Her whips and twirls will thread a story right before your very eyes! It's Almost Impossible to Look Away!! Also, nighttime shows are provided for people with insomnia, headphones are provided for those with sensory issues, plushies and hand santizer are provided for people with anxieties or obsessive compulsions.

And following right behind her is Poppy Partridge!

Who doesn't want an absolute sweetheart to take them under her wing and provide a comfortable place to Relax! Treats are baked for anyone who wants one! Beanbag chairs cots, futons, and a plethora of cushions are provided, as well as DvD players and a TV for Entertainment. Careful, too many sweets from this lovely Partridge will send you into a Deep Sleep.

Then we have the lovely Julie Joyful!

Julie is so playful! If you step foot into her car, you're in for a whole day full of fun games like Tag, Tic Tac Toe, and Hide and Seek! Hide and Seek is her favorite game! Though I can't say the same for her victims Passengers.

And then the Train himself, Home!

While Home is the train, pictured above is his physical manifestation. If he doesn't have a cup of tea, he'll probably be smoking Candy Cloud, which is their form of tobacco.

And Last but not Least, You!

That's right, You! YOu reading this right now! Go ahead and put yourself in the au, draw yourself interacting with the neighbors! You can use this base, I'll post a blank version soon enough! A HUGE huge thank you to @mumimoondrops and @severalbonez for helping me with designs and the story! Mumi is a co-owner of the au. Notes and Disclaimers: Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in Welcome Home. They all belong to @partycoffin. And while two people have already made train conductor au's I wanted to make my own story and designs for the cast! Design Inspirations: @chez-cinnamon, @clownsuu Tags: @3amclothesmonster, @dottyorange, @doggwwoggy23, @kennethmoop, @snowshinefivez5, @larzuen, @nyx-mrbones-2360, @vixxproductions, @sedittedice, @mumimoondrops, @ari-jay, @strugglebugglemoth, @wheatlover, @unpleasantbread, @mockhound, @purplefoxy14, and @anonymous-paperbag

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 2)

My brain won't shut up about this, I like it, and others seem to like it as well. I'm so happy people seem to like my stuff!

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Stalking, Idol Worship, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🎥Today was the day! Apparently, Welcome Home has become beloved enough that someone has decided to interview some of the producers, directors, and cast. Cast including the puppeteers, which means you.

🎥 To be honest, you never really liked being on camera. That isn't to say you didn't like being a puppeteer! No, no, no! You LOVE your job. You love Wally, Home, every character in the neighborhood. You would just rather be behind the scenes. So, this interview is a little daunting.

🎥 When everything is all prepared, you look around the room. Every other puppeteer is sitting with their puppets, just like you are with Wally. Currently, you are all just waiting for the interviewer to finish up with the producers and camera crew. There's been punch laid out and everything for them. It seems like the boss really wanted to make a good first impression with whoever has come in.

🎥 Home is right next to you, with your chair positioned right beside it. It's pretty big, simply because there has to be a couple different versions of it. Ones that fit hand puppets perfectly through the front door and ones that fit the walk around puppets. The larger of the two versions of Home is next to you, with the smaller Home on a table near the title card set.

🎥 Everyone is chatting about their memories making the show, from funny trips that Eddie's puppeteer has made to the improve comedy that Barnaby's puppeteer has come up with for his skits. Everyone is having a jolly good time, except for you. You have this odd feeling like something is going on. Like something is wrong.

🎥 You look down to the little puppet of Wally, which you have nearly sat upon your lap. Ever since the odd incident with storing him away, you have been a bit more protective of him. You don't want him to be messed up. Improperly storing him could result in him being misshapen, so finding out that someone messed with him was alarming.

🎥 Worse yet, though, is that ever since that little incident... you have been feeling like someone is watching you during work. Then there's the colorful letters and drawings you have been getting. Every single one of them has been found on your desk in the storage area for props related to Wally. The language used in the letters are childish and cutesy, such as saying "If you were an apple, you would be the most sparkly and red one, because you are the most!" Every drawing is drawn entirely in crayon, with paint splatters here and there...

🎥 The interviewer comes in, saving you from your own anxious thoughts, as he waves to everyone. He introduces himself, fixing his black suit as he speaks in a formal manner. "Good evening, everyone. I apologize for the delay. Your boss was so excited to tell us about the plans and passion behind this show, I couldn't help but ask him many questions. Now, lets begin."

🎥 It takes a while, but soon, the interviewer gets to you. He asks you simple questions, such as what inspired you to become a puppeteer and what drew you into working on Welcome Home. You give the best answers you could provide, before he asks one that really intrigues you.

🎥"I have heard from some of the production and directing crew that you care a lot about Wally as a character, as well as puppet care. What exactly is it about Wally that you like? What made you want to play him?"

🎥 You couldn't help but grin, explaining everything you loved about Wally as a character. You talk about how he interacts with the audience, small quirks he has and how they are displayed on the show, and even pick him up to go over his character design.

🎥 One sentence you say suddenly makes your brain click in an odd way. The second you let the words "Wally lives to draw art for the viewer of the viewer, due to having a deep appreciation for their kindness" leave your lips, you can't help but remember all of the weird drawings of you you have been finding on your desk recently. You keep talking, though, in the hopes that the memory will just go away for now.

🎥 The drawings can wait. The letters can wait. All that you really want to talk and think about right now is how much this show means to you, as well as how proud of your coworkers you are for helping everyone make Welcome Home as popular as is it. Maybe this interview isn't going as bad as you thought it would?

🎥 You are so invested in talking and answering questions, in fact, that you neglect to notice how Wally seems to subtly curl into your touch. Then again, no one else seems to, either.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

saw some western aus and wanted to throw my proverbial hat in the ring. well. toss it gently. place it down on the edge-

actually no fuck that, slamming down the hat i have Thoughts:

first off, if anything this au should be the silliest looney toons bullshit.

~ of all the revolvers are unloaded. so gunfights are just people saying "bang" at each other and then throwing the nearest thing at their opponent in place of a bullet

~ Wally is the town sheriff, and he's hilariously incompetent. he also has a habit of shoplifting apples from Howdy's saloon / general store fusion. his cowboy hat has a card with an apple on it tucked in the band, but he doesn't wear it, so at nearly all times one of his hands is occupied with holding the hat. also he doesn't wear his badge ever

~ Barnaby is the town deputy, and he's marginally more competent than Wally. however, he doesn't take his job seriously and is usually napping in his chair on the sheriff office porch. sometimes he wears Wally's badge along with his own for funsies

~ also when Howdy catches Wally stealing, he'll call Barnaby over. Barnaby will proceed to arrest and lock up Wally in his own jail until Barnaby feels too bad for leaving him in there and lets him out

~ there is only one horse in town, and its Eddie's so that he can do his delivery runs and get mail from the town over - he has a lil wagon too. Sally has a running gag where she tries to steal the horse, but it completely ignores her and won't budge an inch.

~ on that note, Wally has one of those stick horses. when he needs to chase someone down, he hops on it and Barnaby lifts him by the scruff and runs, gently shaking him up and down to simulate natural horse riding movements. somehow it always works. no one can escape this tactical move

~ the only role i can see for Sally is overly-theatrical outlaw, just as incompetent as Wally. she never succeeds in stealing anything but also never gets caught because, again, Wally is terrible at his job. everyone usually comes outside to watch their wacky "fights" and do nothing about it, including Barnaby. also Julie helps her sometimes

~ Julie i think would be the town banker. she's unusually strict about it and can get kind of scary about technicalities. however the town doesn't really use currency, so they have a point system that they keep careful track of. it would be stickers, but those dont exist. actually fuck that these are puppets, stickers exist and the board is like the gold stars in that one spongebob episode

~ Frank is an entomologist that decided to brave the untamed west to see what new bugs he might discover. what he discovered was dust, scorpions, and an inability to leave the town due to no monies anywhere. he finds entertainment in keeping track of the local ant colonies' wars & affairs, and also complaining at Howdy at the bar

~ everyone complains to Howdy. he has someone at his bar at any given time and he's taken to being incredibly passive aggressive about it. they still have to pay with jokes or favors or whatever they can think of that he'll accept

~ Poppy runs the hotel, where pretty much everyone lives. Julie lives there, Frank lives there, Sally lives there, Wally lives there. Barnaby prefers to sleep in the sheriffs office, as he doesn't want to make the "across the street" commute. Howdy also stays in his saloon/store, and Eddie sleeps in his post office - as canon intended.

~ Home is the mayor. don't ask me if he's a person, an object head, or just a building - i do not know. he's probably still a building. no one can understand what he says

~ oh also Frank is incredibly pressed over the fact that the town's lawfolk suck at their job. he swears he has an aneurysm every time Wally chases Sally down the street on a stick horse, or when blatant crime is happening right in front of a very asleep Barnaby. he is tempted to take over as sheriff, but alas, there are scorpions to be stung by

~ and finally: apple chaps. thats all thanks good day

[welcomehomeincorrectquotes]

Frank: I’m a sensible, peaceful man.

Howdy: Five minutes ago you threw a chair at Barnaby.

Frank: That was a sensible, peaceful compromise from the table I was going to throw at him.