#but nates voice is soooo

[ratatatastic]

i love how you can tell the kitties are distracting because they're so loud as mikksy tries to talk to media (you can hear nate shouting SO MUCH) and he keeps looking up and over to them before he just looks down so the brim of his hat shadows his whole face

like this is him answering questions

this is him looking over to his terrible teammates who cannot stfu

[gregoftom]

good fucking food

[sturncrazy]

SECRET KINK

Chris Sturniolo x y/n (fem!)

(anyone else = green)

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!!NSFW 18+

this is from a request for a breeding kink soooo!! hope u enjoyyyy🫶🫶

(breeding kink…obvi, no protection, pet names, praise, lang, and light mentions of drinking at beginning)

authors note: GUYS!!! sorry it’s been a fucking MINUTE!!! schools been whopping my ass but i’m back babyyyyyy!! and to the baddie that sent in a request lemme say girl don’t apologize for being into the breeding kink stuff cause i think it’s hot too🫶💋

word count: 3,112

—————————————————————————

“here❤️” you texted chris,

pulling your car into the driveway.

“doors open❤️ the boys are still here, dw they’ll head out in a bit”

“nw! i wanna say hi” you checked your makeup in your mirror. you and chris had been dating for almost a year and you spent a chunk of the week sleeping at each others houses. chris had been having a “boys night” with his brothers and their friend, and you could hear their voices shouting over video games as you walked in the door.

“hi boys!” you said entering the living room. you were received with a serises of enthusiastic grins, but none of them seemed able to budge from their game. you walked up to chris and gave him a kiss on top of his head.

“hi beautiful” he grinned at you briefly

“hi hon—ooh! can i have one?” you asked, glancing at the table full of beer cans.

“yeah of course! help yourself” chris said, returning his focus back to the game.

“oh man fuck you” said nate, throwing down his controller in defeat. you chuckled and snagged yourself a can out of the fridge. nate fussed around the coffee table, already bored.

“what’s this” he said, holding up a card game box.

“some shit we got as PR, but it’s a drinking game i think? don’t know, we can’t exactly post about it” chris said, momentarily glancing up from his video game. nate unwrapped it and flipped through the deck.

“damn these are crazy” he said, his eyes going wide.

“really?” matt said, clearly uninterested.

“yeah like, just straight up asks your body count or take a shot”

“ooooo how improper” you mocked. nate gave you the finger, kiddingly.

“read me one. i’ll be the judge of how fun the game actually is” the video game was becoming increasingly boring to watch

“okay, tough guy” nate said, skimming for a better card. his eyebrows raised, apparently landing on one

“what’s the craziest kink you have? drink half your drink if you don’t answer” you sucked in your lips, and raised your can to your mouth.

“oooooo” nick chimed in

“bet chris already knows that one” nate said, slapping chris on the shoulder. chris laughed, his tongue folding over the front of his top teeth forming a cocky expression.

“nuh uh, you couldn’t waterboard that shit out of me” you snorted. chris shot you a curious look.

“weird game, probably meant for horny high schoolers” you quickly tried to end the conversation and settled down on the couch next to chris, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and your fingers into his hair. he smiled up at you and gave you a kiss on the cheek, which resulted in him getting killed off in the game.

“aw shit” he muttered

“sorry babe” you chuckled

“YES! FUCK YEAH! I WIN!” nick yelled moments later, while matt chucked his remote half across the room.

“who’s playing me again?” nick asked, eager for another victory.

“not me man, i gotta get home and get some sleep” nate stretched.

“i can give you a ride” matt said, reaching for his car keys

“sweet. alright, bye brotha” nate said, pulling chris in for a half hug

“bye, y/n” he continued, tussling the top of your hair in a familial way.

“night, nate!” you laughed out as he and matt headed for the door.

“wanna get to bed soon? i’m pretty wiped out” you said turning to chris

“yeah sure thing. i just need to shower” he smiled up at you.

“let’s head downstairs” he patted your leg, urging you to stand up and took your hand, leading you to his room in the basement.

“night nick!” you shouted out

“uh huh” he half answered, clearly engulfed in another game. you followed chris and padded down the steps to the lower level. chris had claimed this floor his and had done a nice job with it, particularly since you helped. it was cozy and felt secluded. plus, the privacy of being two floors from where his brothers slept was an added bonus. you flopped onto chris’s bed and reached for the tv remote.

“cool if i take a shower now?” he asked, you nodded

“okay…better not be asleep when i get out” while chris was in the shower you snagged one of his old t shirts and tossed it on as a nightshirt. your eyelids were just growing heavy, when you heard his bathroom door pop open. chris walked out in plaid pj pants, shirtless, rubbing a towel against his damp hair. he looked effortlessly hot—enough to wake you back up. he gave you a smile

“i love seeing you in my clothes” you continued to stare dumbly at his body, you’d never get over the sight of him.

“you fallin asleep?”

“well now i’m up” you said dramatically giving him a once over, eyes wide.

“little freak” he mumbled, bending over you to give you a kiss.

“dick” you teased, shoving him playfully. he crashed down on the bed next to you. you moved your head to his bare chest. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you close, before speaking against the top of your hair

“hey speaking of you being a freak”

“oh?” you laughed shooting him a look.

“was nate right that i’d know your answer in that game?”

“well…” you struggled for words a moment too long, chris caught on and pulled back to look you in the eyes. his mouth ajar in a shocked smile

“WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?! cmon y/n you have to tell me”

“what?? no way! nope!” you shook your head vigorously

“what? that’s so not fair. why not?”

“cause…i dunno it’s embarrassing. nuh uh” you felt your face begin to flush.

“we’ve had sex like a million times. and you’re telling me THIS is embarrassing?!”

“okay well that stuff is different”

“what stuff”

“like…fantasy…y’know?”

“oh so you’ve had FANTASIES you’re hiding from me” nothing you were saying was deteriorating chris’s curiosity.

“well no not fantasies but like stuff i’d never ACTUALLY do”

“you’re killing me here please TELL ME”

“NO!” you dragged the word out and rolled into a ball away from him, laughing. chris clamored on top of you and rolled you onto your back, pinning your arms down on either side of your head forcing you to look at him

“tell me right now i swear to god” he said smiling down at you, his still wet hair brushing against his eyes. you hated to admit the way he was holding you down was already turning you on.

“you’re gonna think i’m weirddd” you whined

“no i WONT! i promise” he let go of one wrist and offered you his pinky. you locked yours with him and widened your eyes

“you SWEAR you won’t judge me”

“cross my heart hope to die”

“you’re an idiot”

“just TELL ME”

“OKAY OKAY” you pushed him off you and sat up, facing him.

“but just to be clear, i’m not saying we’d ever like do it. i’m totally happy never doing this it’s just like a weird thing—“

“ehhhh whatever enough spit it out” chris said cutting you off. you rolled your eyes at his childish behavior and took a deep breath in.

“okay fine. i guess i’ve always kinda had a breeding kink?” you winced at your own confession. chris raised an eyebrow

“i mean i’ve never done anything to act on it, but like the idea of it is just hot to me…i know it’s weird”

“so is it just the idea of like not pulling out?” his tone was impossible to read and you felt your palms begin a nervous sweat, what if this freaked him out?

“no-well i mean— that’s a part of it yeah—but not just that, y’know?” chris nodded, taking in what you’re saying.

“but you’re on birth control right? like nothing would actually…?” he raised his hand, in gesture to what he meant.

“oh no, i guess it’s sorta more a role play thing? it’s not that i actually’d wanna get pregnant, just more the idea of pretending like that—i—it’s weird i know—sorry—“

“i don’t think so” he cut you off, shaking his head. you froze slightly

“you don’t?” he gave you a small smirk

“no, i get” you felt your heart beat heavily against your chest. he studied your face for a moment, the silence in the room drowned out by the obvious tension, before he suddenly broke out of it.

“so, what are we watching?” he asked lightly, lying back with his an arm behind his head and facing the tv. you felt a small wave of disappointment at the sudden shift, but went with it.

“oh i dunno, nothing looks great” you sighed, lying back down onto chris’s chest. he mumbled a response into the top of your head, his free hand softly brushing up and down your arm. you picked back up the remote and continued to flip through the screen. you landed on an old comfort show and before you knew it the conversation seemed like ancient history. chris eventually moved his arm from yours to around your waist. you raised a leg over his. your eyes flitted down to his fingertips where he was playing with the hem of his shirt you were wearing. he mustve noticed because he began to pull the fabric up higher, exposing even more of your barely covered lower half. you looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“what?” he chuckled

“whatcha doing there christopher”

“nothing” he mused, watching his own hands fumble with the shirt, the occasional bump of his cold fingertips against your skin sending little jolts through your body

“y’just look so sexy like this” he mumbled

“oh yeah?” his hands now lightly grazing your bare hip bone, the angle of your body being the only thing keeping you from behind entirely exposed.

“mhm. gets me all worked up”

“how worked up” you said in a innocent tone, looking up at him with doe eyes before sliding the hand your had from his stomach to his crotch. his eyes screwed shut and he let out a small hiss as your palm reached his already stiff clothed length. you scoffed lightly.

“hard for me already, huh?” you began to rub your hand against him, adding some pressure. chris squirmed under your touch, a faint groan escaping him. he nodded.

“aww poor thing. want me to help you out?” you said in a sweetly, palming his dick harder. he nodded his head, again, vigorously. you removed your hand to spit on it and he watched you wide eyed. you bit your lip in a smile, loving getting to see his face contort in desperation as you moved your hand down the waistband of his pjs. you wrapped your grip around his hard cock, it twitched against your touch and he let out an unsteady breath. you kept your eyes on him as you began to pump your hand up and down his length, watching him let out small moans and grasp at the sheets nearby.

“oh—fuck—“ chris sighed out. throwing his head back, his eyes rolling back into the sockets. his obvious enjoyment only made you want to hear more. you began to leave wet open mouthed kisses on his chest and moved down, slowly. his stomach flexed against each kiss and he whined against your teasing. you reached his waistband and looked up at him. he lifted his hips, allowing you to discard the pjs. his throbbing cock, still slick with your spit, slapped against his stomach. you returned your hand to wrap around the base of it and brought your lips to leave a sloppy kiss on its flushed tip. he shuddered before you began to lower down, sinking his dick into your mouth. you bobbed your head up and down, a trail of spit leaving your mouth. chris’s groans and curses filled the room in harmony with your occasional gags against his length. you felt one of his large hands reach for the back of your head. you tried to prepare yourself for him to push you further down, fucking your throat as he often liked to, but we’re surprised when he yanked your hair back, pulling you off of him. you looked up at him in confusion. he smirked and reached for your waist to bring you closer to him

“can’t cum yet baby” he lifted you onto his lap, his lips brushing yours

“don’t wanna waste any of it” he rasped against your mouth

“wha—“ you tried to question, as he wrapped an arm around your waist and tossed you onto your back. he pinned you, wrists by your head, and leaned down

“you heard me” he said cockily, before beginning to kiss you. you almost managed to fight for more answers, but chris began to grind his exposed rock hard dick up against your pussy and your mind went blank.

“oh—god—“ you moaned dumbly, raising your hips higher to meet his motion. his cock began to run up and down against your slick bare folds, brushing your clit repeatedly.

“such a good girl—so wet for me” he breathed out, the tip of his dick just barely adding pressure against your throbbing entrance. you heaved and thrashed underneath him. he kept your arms pinned and savored watching you become even more desperate.

“chris—please—“

he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours, and slide his hands to lock into yours.

“you ready baby?” he rasped out, letting go of your hands. you nodded and moaned against him.

“good” he said with a kiss before beginning to slide himself deep into your core. you let out a whimper as the tip of his dick pressed up against your most sensitive spot. a groan tumbled from chris’s lips and his eyes rolled back at the feeling of your walls fully tightening around him.

“god you feel so good, baby” he mumbled, before pulling back out of you almost fully

“please—fuck me, chris—“ you almost cried out, your pussy aching for more.

“—i need it so bad”

“yeah? you need my dick, honey?” he said sweetly, smirking down at you. you whined again and nodded as he thrusted deep into you again.

“oh god—yes—“ your fingernails reached to latch themselves deep into the flesh of his shoulders as he began to find a steady slow rhythm in and out and in and out of your squelching wet core. Chris’s eyes scanned your face and body lying beneath him as he fucked into you. they landed on your stomach and he licked his lips at the sight.

“fuck—look—can see me inside you—“

sure enough, his hard length created a bulge against your stomach with each thrust deep into you. Chris lowered a hand to press against it. you bit your lip and sighed out, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin and bit your earlobe lightly.

“can’t wait to fuck a baby into you” he hoarsely whispered

“what—“ you half moan out, still too consumed with pleasure to think straight

“you heard me, sweetheart—gonna fill you up and stuff your little pussy—you’ll look so pretty all full of my cum”

your stomach twisted and your heart raced. you couldn’t help but let out an almost pornographic moan at chris’s words.

“you want me to give you a baby? huh, princess?”

“fuck yes—-please—“ you said, desperately. chris continues to slam into you, perfectly hitting where you needed him most. he gave you a passionate kiss before saying against your lips

“you gonna take every drop of my load, right?“

“yes chris—i promise—“

“such a good girl”

“don’t fucking stop—fuck—“

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give your pussy all the cum it deserves” he started to pick up the pace of his even plunges into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his began to echo in the room.

“gonna get you all big and fat and pregnant. well make the prettiest baby in the world”

“oh god—feels so fucking good—“ you whimper

“you ready, baby? want my cum in you now?” chris groaned, breathlessly. you felt your walls tighten around him as the familiar knot in your stomach started to form.

“yes—-please—fuck chris fill me with your cum—“ his dick twitched inside you at your words

“you’re gonna make such a perfect mommy—you’re doing so good for me gorgeous—just keep taking me just like that—”

the knot in your stomach begins to reach its last moments

“Chris—fuck—I’m gonna cum—“ you cry out

“good girl—cum all over my cock, sweetheart—“ Chris huffed out, coaxing you to release. your hearing begins to buzz as you feel yourself come undone. Chris continues to fuck you through your high as his motions begin to get more sloppy, the clenching of your walls bringing him closer to cumming.

“Ohhh—oh shit baby—“ he began to whine

“mmm that’s it—cum in me, chris—put your baby in me” you sigh out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you start to regain your senses

“ohh—nggh—i’m cumming—fuck, baby—-here it comes—“ chris pants as he roughly thrusts into you, his thighs and upper arms shaking slightly.

“OHHHH—“ his brow furrows as his release takes over. he lets out a loud moan as he haults, his cock buried all the way inside you. he shoots hot, thick, strands of his cum deep inside your walls, and then collapses against your body. the two of you try to regain your breath. chris lifts himself back up to look down at you and gives you a kiss, still buried inside you. you smile against his lips.

“how was that” he breathed out

“fucking perfect” you giggled

“yeah? i think so too” he chuckled, giving you a peck before lifting himself higher off you to pull out of you. he removed himself, gently trying to be aware of your sensitivity. you whined at the loss a little. he sits back and stares between your legs where your entrances still pulsates slightly, his cum leaking out. his jaw went slack

“what?” you giggled again, feeling a little embarrassed

“i could get used to seeing that” he said, not pulling his eyes away

“chrissss” you whine, attempting to shut your legs. he stops you with his arms

“nuh uh” he says before taking two of his fingers up to collect his cum and shoving them back inside you. you let out a sharp moan at the sudden feeling. he leans back over you with a smirk

“can’t waste any” he said, giving you yet another kiss

—————————————————————————

HEHE

hope u guys like this one

ITS GOOD TO BE BACK!!!!

💋

[hysteria-things]

ive never requested anything ever so..

but ive read everything you've wrote and oml your writing is heaven sent 🙏

is there any possible way you could do something kinda like the trope u had w the fic zipper u wrote where the reader is nates sister and nate catches chris and reader doing it or almost doing it?

SECRET'S OUT (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you are the little sister of nate doe, who so happens to be best friends with chris sturniolo; who so happens to be the boy you’ve been hooking up with behind his back for weeks.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, fluff, making out, swearing, p in v, praising, getting caught

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 872

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you anon for the kind words🥹

decided to combine these two requests! hope i did you guys justice :)

i’ve been getting a handful of chris requests which is why i’ve been posting about him more, but matt will make an appearance soon i promise🙏

you tap the contact on your phone, acting like you’re calling your crush for the first time. you bite your lip and smile while bringing it up to your ear.

the person on the other line picks up after two rings. “hello?”

“hey!” you say with excitement.

chris chuckles through the phone. you almost melt at the sound. “hi, baby.”

the heart in your chest flutters. everybody on the planet knows chris cannot stand that nickname, but he always makes you an exception.

you walk over to the bed and lay on your side, your unoccupied hand rests on your cheek.

“soooo…” you drag out. “nate’s out right now…”

“uh huh.” chris says with amusement, knowing exactly what you want.

you clear your throat and get straight to the point. “come over, pretty boy.”

chris’s dick twitches in his pants. “give me twenty minutes.”

“make it ten,” you say before disconnecting the call.

what do you know? chris comes marching into your room about ten minutes later. the door must’ve been unlocked.

he smiles down at you — since you’re so much shorter. you stand on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips.

a peck turns into two pecks. then three. then to his tongue exploring your mouth.

the smacking of your guys’ lips echoes through the room as chris backs you up to your bed. when the back of your knees hit the frame, you fall backward onto the mattress. the kiss is still intact. nothing could be able to stop you now.

“y/n? are you home?” nate’s voice shouts from down the hall.

okay, maybe one thing can stop you.

chris immediately pulls away to scramble to his feet. it’s too late to shove him somewhere since nate’s footsteps eventually reach the door to open it.

chris stands like a statue next to the door. luckily, he’s on the side where the door blocks him from your brother’s view.

“i thought you already left?” you say breathlessly, sitting up to make yourself look less suspicious.

“i did, but i came back to grab something.” he explains, looking around your room. “are you good? do you need anything while i’m out?”

“no, i’m good. thanks though!” you reply enthusiastically.

he gives you a look of disgust before shutting the door and making his way down the hallway. chris sniggers at you.

“shut up,” you mumble as he starts coming over to you to continue what he started.

he starts to kiss your neck and collarbones, each one leaving you with a tickling sensation.

“you’re so gorgeous.” he says between kisses. “the best thing to ever happen to me.”

your cheeks flush a maroon. he gently starts removing your pajama shorts and underwear. his lips still pepper your skin as he takes off his lower attire as well.

he finally pulls away, removing both yours and his shirts. he stares at your naked body in awe. “so fucking gorgeous.”

you moan as he starts to push in slowly, resting his forehead on yours. you’ve been railed by this man more than enough times, but you’ll never fully adjust to his size no matter how hard you try.

he sits there for a few seconds, caressing the outside of your thighs with his thumbs in a soothing manner.

“you okay?” he asks, kissing you again and again.

you nod. he starts to thrust deep and slow, earning a ‘faster’ from your lips when you think he’s going too slow. he interlocks your fingers with his and holds them above your head.

“oh, fuck.” you say in a voice higher than your normal one. “just like that, chris."

his movements are at a decent speed. you spread your legs wider, forcing him to go deeper. he rests his head in the crook of your neck and moans with you.

you pant and whimper at each thrust, loving his warm and safe touch.

it’s not until he hits a certain spot that make your eyes flutter closed, a wide grin of contentment plastering your face.

“does it feel good, baby? hm?” he starts, lifting his head to look at your face of pleasure. “you like it right there, don’t you? ah, you’re so fucking tight.”

you clench around him, making him lose rhythm for only a moment. “chris, i’m cl—”

“i fucking knew it.”

the two of you pause and stare at each other in fear. your face turns pale when all the pleasure is gone in a snap.

you both take turns facing the source and cover yourselves with your comforter.

nate is standing in the doorway with his hand on the knob. you’ve never seen nate mad, and right now he doesn’t look mad, but something feels off.

he needs to let this sit for a moment before he explodes.

chris grabs his undergarments that are on the floor next to him and puts them on quickly.

nate glances at you, who’s too frozen in fear to do anything. he then looks at chris and exhales loudly.

“for future reference, don’t leave your fucking shoes by the front door.” his voice is in a low but dark tone. “now get out before i beat the shit out of you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[fredwkong]

Alphaworld File 3: Diary of an Alpha Transformation (1 of ?)

Click here to read Alphaworld in posting order.

X

An undated journal. It is heavily bedazzled on the covers, though many of the gems appear to have been scraped off or stepped on. There are several stains yellowing the coloured paper of the cover, mostly sweat.

Inside the front cover, there is a space where the owner is encouraged to write their name. Two names occupy the space, one on top of the other. The lower layer is written with a purple marker, neatly spelling the name “Ronaldo Herrera.” There are multicoloured sparkles drawn around the name, and glitter has been sprinkled over it. Some of the glitter appears to have been scraped off with a knife, and there is a 3 centimetre tear at the top interior of the page, as if someone was about to rip it out. On top of the first name, the name “RONNIE H” is scrawled in crude capitals using a pencil. The pencil was applied with sufficient force that graphite scrapes are visible from where they were brushed off the page.

Journal entries flow into each other without dating, but editors have split entries based on context and labelled them “Day One, Day Two, Day Three…” despite the fact that more than one day clearly proceeds between some entries. From this point onward, journal entries are transliterated directly, with marginalia and other notes on the text rendered in square brackets [] to distinguish them from the main body.

[Day One]

OMG, I’m soooo happy to be back on campus! Staying with my parents is such a bore! They don’t let me stream any of my shows, they say drag race is of the devil, and the town is so small that I’m, like, the only twink there. I can’t even get any dl dick all holiday because country guys are all totally masc for masc. My hole is toooootally desperate.

I’m so happy that Ollie across the hall got me this journal! He made it look soooo cute with all the stones! He’s, like, okay for a fellow bottom, even tho his massive crush on me is, like, totally obvious. Sorry babe, this dick is for decoration only lmao! Maybe we could get tag teamed by a big dick boy sometime, that’d be pretty hot. I've never bottomed alongside a transmasc dude.

Anyway, I just stopped at the dorm to drop off my suitcase and get out of my het drag, there’s a whole lotta frat parties starting tonight and if I wanna end my dry spell I’ve gotta be there! I just had to live my Sex and the City fantasy by putting down a few lines in the diary first!

[a doodle of an open-faced journal with scribbly lines on the page in rainbow colours]

[Day Two]

ZOMGGGGGGG [written in double-tall bubble letters across a quarter of the page, filled in with pink highlighter]

This term is gonna be SO AWESOME.

Campus is suddenly full of massive muscle men who are totally desperate for me! I was, like, totally the target of a dominance contest at the party last night, and it was SO HOT.

So I walk in, right? And I’m dressed in my usual, my lil slutty crop and my littlest shorts. Here, I took a pic before I left so you can see how cute I was.

Anyway, I’m cute, I’m obvious, I’m ready to have any guy absolutely wreck me. Like, last night, I would have taken a bicurious frat bro fucking me raw, my hole was so neglected. So I am a blaring neon sign: I’M A FAG [written in rainbow marker colours]

And as soon as I walk in, this GOD [a doodle of a massive man is in the margin, a perfect X shape covered in cartoonishly bulging muscles] comes up to me and is all, “Hey boy, I’m Nate.” He. Is. PERFECT. Gorgeous grey eyes, windswept dirty blond hair, a tank top hugging pecs the size of my HEAD. And his voice gets me tooootally weak in the knees. I can't believe he's LOOKING at lil ol me, even if I do look like a twinky slut.

But before I can even say anything to Nate, there’s another MASSIVE arm draped over my shoulder, and ANOTHER massive guy is whispering in my ear, like, “Name’s Lee. Want a drink?” I look over, and he’s just as hot as Nate, with shiny black hair and this perfect sexy smile like a J-pop star. But, like, if a J-pop star was 250 pounds of pure muscle and sex.

I swear all the air went out of the room. Suddenly, Nate and Lee were glaring at each other over me, and all these frat bros were staring.

BTW, when did all the frat bros get so cuuuute? Like, not as sexy as Nate and Lee, but they’re all totally cut this term and I think they’ve got some skincare going? Like I wanna go back sometime lmao.

Lee, like, GROWLED as he glared across me. I felt a li-ter-al rumble from his chest. Nate started totally flexing his big pecs, I thought his shirt was gonna shred in the middle. They didn’t even SAY anything, it was so totally primal. I think I got a whiff of Lee as he tucked me closer to his chest, and I realised he totally doesn’t use deodorant. He smelled totally HAWT.

Anyway, I have two perfect men fighting over me, and I’m not letting either of them go, so I go, “Boys, I promise my holes are big enough to share.” I totes flashed my dimples at them. [doodle of a smiley face]

They kept glaring at each other, but finally Lee was like, “I get his hole.” Maybe he, like, won the contest or whatever? Because Nate looked down at the floor and said, “Fine.” And I mean, fine with me! I love getting stuffed from both ends! What a way to come back from vacay!

We didn’t stay at the party long, just long enough for Lee to get me a drink and Nate to carry me around the dance floor a bit. I checked on Lee while we were dancing, and he was, like, totally making out with one of the frat bros. Like, a guy I knew was straight. I blew him freshman year when his gf was away. I guess Lee’s just like that, lmao.

We ended up upstairs. I think Lee’s in the frat? But we weren’t in his room, which was kinda hot. Lee and Nate sandwiched me between them as soon as we were through the door. I was tooootally surrounded by massive muscle as Nate made out with me and Lee sucked on my neck. I felt, like, high, with Nate’s big cock grinding into my belly through his jeans while Lee felt up my cute ass.

“You guys kissing would be so hot,” I gasped as Nate pulled off my shirt and Lee took off my shorts.

They both hesitated, I could feel it. “Oh c’mon,” I moaned, “you’re both tooootally hot, and you haven’t touched at allllll.”

Suddenly, Lee picked me up and threw me on a random frat bro’s bed. “I guess your mouth IS gonna be busy,” he said, which was SOOO hot, and then he started slicking up my hole.

Pretty soon, both hunks were balls deep in me. They were SOOOOOO big [doodles of massive, soft cocks cover the margins of this page] and I took ALL of them. Lee filled me up SO good, rubbing my prostate like he was fingering me. And Nate tasted, like, perfect. And the whole time, Nate kept pulling back just far enough that I could watch him and Lee kissing over me.

FUCK, they made me look like a little doll between them! I think once they were in me, all the dominance stuff went away, because they were TOTALLY making out. Nate’s, like, SO noisy, and Lee kept on doing that growl thing like he’d done before, which made me moan around Nate’s cock, which made him even noisier.

I came handsfree right before Lee flooded my ass and Nate filled my mouth with cum.

By the time our clothes were back on, Lee and Nate were back to playing their weird dick measuring game, keeping me between them as we went back to the party. I think Nate left pretty soon, but I danced for a bit longer and made out with a few frat bros. They really ARE super cute now, and they all seemed totally into me. Guess they finally got over being raging fucking homophobes lmao.

Anyway, I got home and crashed as soon as I’d cleaned all the cum and sweat off. Now my hand’s all crampy from writing for so long lol. Oooh, I should go tell Ollie all about it!

[Day Three]

I was, like, SO right.

The last few days have been AWESOME!!!! [jagged star doodles all around the word] I swear there are soooo many hunks on campus all of a sudden! One of my profs this term is a tooootal musclestud.

So I’m taking this class on fashion history, and when I looked it up, this Prof. Romano guy was listed for it. He was cute, one of those cute tweed aesthetic guys. You know, a fag who studies fashion. Like, OMG, that picture must be SO OLD.

I show up for class all ready to sit in the back row, but then I see this MAN standing at the podium. Like, total Italian stallion, with the dark waves and the stubbly jaw. He was, like, BURSTING out of his blazer. I could watch his pec bounce through three layers of fabric.

So obv I run down and sit in the front row. I’m not the first fag to have the idea, there’s already like 3 other twinks down there, but I’m totally the cutest. As the rest of the class comes in and sits down, these two GORGEOUS boys walk in and go up to the prof. They’re totally shredded, and dressed in complementary button-ups. And the muscle-god prof pats each of them on the head! Then they go sit down in some chairs behind the podium, and I can see their boners in their cute slacks.

The prof clears his throat, and it’s this DEEP, RESONANT sound. I got a total eargasm just listening to the rumble. “Good morning, class,” he says. And then his next words are TOTALLY burned into my brain:

[written in shaky block letters across a whole page] “You will call me Alpha Mario.”

And then he says, “I am your professor, and I will see you all for extra credit,” while rubbing himself through his pants, like half the class isn’t ready to have his babies. My cock was ROCK FUCKING HARD in my jeans. [doodle of a leaking penis]

He introduces his TAs as Beta Max and Beta Owen. IDK, maybe it’s a kink thing? He’s clearly their dom or something, they were totally devoted to him all class. I’d happily be Alpha Mario’s Beta if he’s hiring, lmao! [hearts are doodled around “Alpha Mario”]

Anyway, that’s just one ep in the PORN SHOW that is my life these days! Ollie’s room has been, like, a revolving door of cock since we got back, and I usually take two or three loads a day out on campus. This group of straight computer science geeks actually begged to fuck me yesterday, so I was dripping all the way home.

They were surprisingly buff for nerds, too! I should point out to Ollie that we gotta hit the gym if we wanna keep up with all the boys on campus this term. Can you imagine? Us at the gym! [The rest of the page is covered in stickers of the laughing emoji]

[Day Four]

Went to the gym today! Not to workout, but I had this new outfit idea and I thought it might get me noticed if I just hung out in the locker room. OH BOY, was I right!

Last few days all my clothes have been feeling super tight, so I’ve been doing a lot of [scribbled in rainbow marker] SHOPPING. It’s too bad, all my old clothes were suuuuper cute, but I’ve started giving some of my old faves to repeat fuckbuddies. One of the guys who used to push me around for being faggy, this guy called Brendan, has been coming over for the last few nights. I never realised how cute he is before!

Anyway, the first night Brendan came over he throatfucked me, but last night he told me he really wanted to feel my fingers in his hole, so I started fingering him! It was soooo hot that my cock ended up totally hard and before I knew it HE was blowing ME while I rubbed his prostate. He’s been texting me all day, begging to service my cock again. Lol, he just sent a voice message all like, “Please, Ronaldo, I’ll do anything to make you cum again!”

My point is I gave him a pair of my old booty shorts. They fit him perfectly, even though he NEVER had an ass as nice as mine before. He’s been wearing them all day today, just like I told him. It’s so hot, knowing he’s showing off like a fag even though he used to be a straight homophobe.

Fuck, I was writing about MY clothes! I’ve been so distracted by hot beta boys the last few days. I thought it was kinda time to change up my style, plus I looked super hot trying on some more dude-type clothes, so here’s the pic of me I took while I was hanging out at the gym.

I had guys HANGING OFF OF ME after a few minutes. It was totally hot, they wanted to do anything I said. Before long, I had a bunch of hot guys kissing me all over and all the cocks I could want to suck. Guys kept running out to grab their hot friends to join us, and all these guys were focussed on me.

At one point one of the staff came in, and I could tell it was to tell us to stop. He was a cute guy, really filled out his work polo, you know how gyms always hire swole dudes and curvy gurls to work at the front desk. I just gave him this LOOK from the middle of my pile of dudes, and I could feel his straightness melt away as his cock started leaking in his preppy shorts.

But just as I was about to cum, my cap got ripped off my head and I was dragged out of the pile by Nate, the guy from that frat party. I swear, he got even BIGGER since last time, he held me up by my shoulders like I was a paperweight. He was totally growling at me, too. He said something like, “I hate when they’re half done,” whatever that means, and then he yelled at all the other boys to get back to work.

Once we were along in the locker room, Nate shook me like a doll. “All the ex-het Betas can treat my gym as neutral ground, but it’s MY territory to you and the other half-done Alphas, you got it?” [note: Alpha and Beta are capitalised in the original text, although Ronnie does not seem to have been aware of the Alpha Phenomenon]

I was like “What are you talking about?”

Nate said, “You’ll get it.” Then I started smelling this INCREDIBLE smell. It was like really sharp cedar cologne mixed with fresh sweat. There was something else too, and it made me feel totally out of it.

Next thing I knew, I was on my knees swallowing Nate’s cock again. “Yeah,” he was saying while he fucked my throat, “this’ll speed you up. You’ll probably never submit again after this, so I’m gonna enjoy it.”

I just stayed there, taking him all the way into my throat. I feel like a week ago it would’ve been totally hot, but today it felt different. Nate using me made me MAD [underlined several times]. I felt like I should do something about it, like punch him or steal one of his boys, but the smell coming off of him kept me docile.

Nate came really quietly, which made me madder. My throat is an incredible tool, okay? Any guy should be screaming when I blow him, especially a noisy top like Nate. Then he patted me on the head like I was a little boy and said, “Head home. Drop a load in that guy who lives across from you, he should be progressing well too.” Then he just. Walked away.

I was gonna stay here all night just to spite the asshole, but I’m super horny again and I don’t wanna go back out. Maybe I’ll go see if Ollie’s got any visitors tonight or if he wants me to fill his holes for him.

[Day Five]

[From this point, entries are written in a noticeably heavier hand. Lowercase Es and Os become jagged.] Fuck, last night was fucking awesome. I knocked on Ollie’s door, and he answered in nothing but a thong, showing his bottom growth right through the fabric. His legs have been getting so hairy and thick, he looked super slutty. Plus his room smelled like sex and cum. I’ve been sleeping out, but seems like Ollie’s been taking house calls.

“Ronaldo?” he said, blinking up at me in surprise. I think we used to be a matching pair of little twinks, but guess I’ve had a growth spurt.

I shoved through the door. What was he gonna do, stop me? I was like, “Where’s your lube?” It came out of my mouth so deep, in a crazy manly register. “I wanna finger you.”

Ollie fuckin’ moaned when I said that, and stumbled over to his night table to grab it. He keeps his lube right out in the open, proud of how much cock he takes. I was already dropping my jeans, my cock was getting super hard and I hate feeling it strain. It deserves to be seen anyway.

Once I grabbed Ollie’s lube, he stood against the wall and presented his ass for me. Fuck, just remembering the look of all that hair on his fat ass is making me leak again. Okay I jerked a bit, should be able to write. [there is a stain on the page here]

Ollie’s hole was still loose from his last dick appointment, so I pushed three fingers in nice and easy. Ollie was moaning, all, “When did your fingers get so thick,” and “What’s happening to us, Ronaldo?” so I roughed up his G-spot a bit until he wasn’t being so articulate anymore.

“What’s happening to us is we’re gonna rule this school,” I hissed at him. I’d realised that it wasn’t gonna be enough to finger him and make him blow me. I needed to shoot inside his ass right fucking now. “Fags are in fucking charge here now.”

Fuck, wait, I need to text Brendan and get him over here. I need him milking my cock so I can focus on writing.

[There are several crude doodles of dicks, asses, and cum splatters in various marker colours before the entry continues on the facing page]

So anyway I slammed Ollie against the wall and shoved my cock into him. My cock’s so much fucking bigger now, too. Like it’s really filling up Brendan’s mouth while he sucks on me. I had enough cock to really saw at Ollie's asshole, and I felt him cum handsfree onto the wall.

“That’s it,” I growled in his ear as I had to hold him up. “This is what you’ve wanted ever since we became neighbours, right? Ollie wanted to get Ronnie’s big alpha dick in his hole.” It felt good to call myself a

[in massive letters on its own line] ALPHA

Ollie didn’t really say words at that point, just lots of “Yes” and “More.” I could hear his voice getting deeper with every thrust, too.

By the time I was getting close, Ollie’s room reeked like ME. It wasn’t a bad smell, but I knew any boy who came in here would be able to tell that all this musk and spice wasn’t just Ollie. It would take weeks for this to be really Ollie’s territory again now that I had marked it. “Fuck, show me that man pussy,” I ordered him, and threw him down in his bed.

Switching holes felt like the most natural thing in the world. I’m fucking built for topping, I can’t believe I thought I hated it. I fucked Ollie through a couple more orgasms and then let myself fill up his man pussy with what felt like 3 loads.

I fell asleep still inside him.

FUCK. I just came in Brendan’s mouth, and it felt totally different. Like, I marked Ollie’s room, but I didn’t mark HIM. His holes are open for anyone to fill. He can own other boys for all I care. But Brendan? Brendan’s fucking MINE. He’s mine he’s mine he’s mine. MY Brendan. [scribbled hastily] I need his hole NOW.

[written later]

I took a pic of Ollie before I started fingering him. I bet he looks totally different now, like me. Gotta go, MY Brendan’s gonna show me how to do a gym session.

To Be Continued...

[ily-fictional-women]

Christmas Blues

Summary: Kate’s feeling down but Y/n is gonna do her best to fix that.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Warnings: None that I know of but if I should add anything let me know

Word count: 1501

a/n: Just something for the Holiday season! (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

With it being the Christmas season Kate and Y/n agreed to have a small date night at Kate’s apartment watching a Christmas movie while cozying up together. Although during the movie the two sit beside each other one of Y/n’s hands on the back of Kate’s head playing with her hair. Typical Kate is one to talk throughout a movie this time she’s quiet, too quiet.

Turing just slightly Y/n looks over at Kate, there’s not even a slight grin on her face. Y/n moves her hand from the back of the girl's head down to the back of her neck, “Hey.” Kate snaps her attention at the sudden change, “Yeah?” Biting the inside of her cheek Y/n tries to find the right words for the moment, “Katie, are you okay? Where’s your head at?”

“What do you mean?” Kate shifts in her seat at the question. Y/n pauses the movie putting her full attention on Kate, “Look, I’ve known and loved you for a while. So I’d like to think I know when you’re stuck in your head. You don’t have to tell her anything but if you want to tell me I wanna know.”

Kate shrugs nervously, “I guess it’s just the Christmas season. Ever since the whole Fisk thing and the thing with my mom going away, it feels like the Holiday season is just a reminder of all the bad instead of the good.” Y/n starts lightly drawing shapes into the back of Kate's neck trying to think of any kind of solution, “Is it being in New York that’s a reminder of it or is it just a feeling in general?”

Kate rests a hand on Y/n’s thigh trying to distract herself from how she was feeling, “Probably a mix of both. But I think being her plays a big part in it. Why?” Y/n shakes her head nonchalantly, “Just trying to figure out how you’re feeling.” As the moment settles down and the movie’s unpaused Y/n interrupts again.

“Do you have any hot cocoa powder?” Kate’s brows furrow for a moment, “No. I don’t think so at least did you want some or something?” Y/n quickly gets up putting a coat on, “Yeah I was thinking of having some. I’ll go out and pick up enough for the both of us.” Both Kate and Lucky turn their heads as Y/n goes for the door. “Did you want me to come with you?” Y/n smiles shaking her head at the question, “No don’t worry. I want you to relax.”

Y/n was going out to get hot cocoa mix but there was also another plan. Making it out of the apartment building Y/n pulls out her phone calling the only person she knew could probably help. “Hey, Clint can we talk?”

There’s some murmurs in the background of the call but they slowly get quieter, “Hey, yeah, Y/n what’s up?”

“It’s Kate, Clint, I’m worried about her. She doesn’t seem like herself. She was talking about how all the Fisk stuff and her mom being locked up was getting to her. But she said it mostly tied to being in New York so I was wondering if we could come over for a little. Mostly so I could see if it would cheer her up.”

“I mean yeah that shouldn’t be a problem I’ma just ask Laura first.” For about two minutes Clint is obviously on mute leaving Y/n standing in the New York snow. The sudden loud background noise shocks Y/n from the cold though, “Okay, Laura said it’s alright. Are you guys gonna be here tomorrow or later?”

“Tomorrow works just fine I’ll get her to pack up tonight.” Right before Y/n’s about to hang up there’s some loud murmuring in the background before she hears Clint’s voice again, “Oh uh Lila said to to pack ugly sweaters. We’re having a contest and Nate is judging.”

“Will do Clint.”

//

Getting back to the apartment Y/n quickly brushes off the excess snow on her coat before hanging it up the small bag of hot cocoa powder in hand. Heating some milk Y/n flops on the couch with Kate, “Soooo. You’re gonna need to pack a bag.” Kate raises an eyebrow cracking a nervous grin, “Why do I need to pack a bag exactly?”

“We're going on a trip to get out of here. You’ll like it I promise.” The confidence in Y/n’s demeanor was just enough to convince Kate to go pack a bag. “Oh wait,” Y/n stops her before she can get too far. “You’re gonna need to pack an ugly sweater.”

//

DAY 1 Making it to the Barton home Kate has a tight grip on Lucky’s leash, or that it is until Clint opens the door to the house bolting in to play with the kids. “Hey, Clint.” Kate opens up her arms to a hug from the older man. Clint looks at the two of you up and down noticing the ugly sweaters. “I see you both dressed up for today.” He examines both sweaters closely, “No offense Y/n but Kate is definitely winning the ugly sweater contest today.”

Y/n looks at the man genuinely shocked, “How?! Mine has Shrek and you said Nate was judging.” Clint looks over at both sweaters again, “No yeah Kate definitely wins. The owl’s eyes are so beady it creeps me out.” Kate smirks to herself, “That’s not the worst of it.” Clicking a button on one of the sleeves of the sweater the eyes of the owl begin to light up.

Letting out the most dad laugh possible Clint looks back at Y/n’s sweater, “Y/n I bet $5 Nate will pick Kate's sweater over your's." Y/n puts out her hand shaking Clint's taking the offer, “You’re on old man. It'll be your Christmas gift to me." Ignoring the old man comment Clint invites the two in to begin the ugly sweater contest.

DAY 1 (NIGHT) Y/n scans the dark living room, “Where are the kids and Laura?” Kate readjusts the blanket she has wrapped around herself sitting in front of the fireplace. “They all went to bed, how was the whole wood-chopping thing with Clint?” Y/n tosses a fresh piece of wood into the fireplace, “Surprisingly boring. Did you guys do anything?”

“We mostly just played some small games Laura found online. But what I want right now is for you to sit with me.” Kate stretches out her arms like a kid wanting to be picked up. Sitting down with Kate Y/n admires the fire for a moment turning over to Kate. “Have you had fun so far?”

Kate’s gaze stays on the fire watching it crackle and burn, “Actually, yeah. I have. I still don’t think it’s fair you won the ugly Christmas sweater contest though.” Y/n fake coughs quietly murmuring, “Sore loser.” Kate quickly flops on top of Y/n with a playful smile, “What did you just say?”

Y/n looked around the room pretending to try and find the answer as she moved her hands to Kate’s hips to make sure she didn’t fall off the couch. “Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say anything! I swear.” Kate leans in a little closer to Y/n’s face, “Really? Because I could have sworn you called me a sore loser.”

Y/n lets out a loud sarcastic gasp, “Me?! I would never!” Kate looks at her questioningly, “Really now?” Y/n smiles cockily, “Nope never! Now how about you lean in just a little bit closer and kiss me so we can go to bed?” Giggling into a kiss Kate agrees ending a blissful night.

DAY 3 (NIGHT) With yesterday being an almost full day of baking cookies everyone was still fairly tired, especially being tired of taking orders from Laura in the kitchen. Because of this, everyone agreed today would be the Christmas movie marathon. First, it started with some of the classics.

You had The Grinch, Home Alone, A Christmas Carol, and so much more. The best part was probably the kids' commentary though Kate especially found it funny that quote “Captain America looked so much like the boy from A Christmas Story”.

Throughout the night it was obvious Kate was becoming happier and happier, especially compared to how she had been feeling before the trip. It was hard for Y/n to not stare at Kate being happy again. It was like she could see a light through her smiles and laugh. A light she hadn’t seen in a while.

Kate leans over to Y/n still intently watching the movie, “Thank you for this trip. I love it. And I love you.” Y/n smiles softly, “I love you most.” This, this moment. It was the only Christmas gift Y/n needed.

[mikkomacko]

blurb with nate mack, make it soooo sweet please ❤️🥰☺️

His eyes had been following you all night long. From the moment you met him outside the locker room of Ball Arena, tucked into your white Avs hoodie and leather jacket ready to face the Colorado cold, Nate had stars in his eyes.

He’d put his game-day suit back on, but the top buttons of his shirt were undone and he now wore a wool coat instead of the suit jacket. A beanie that always got left in his car was pulled over his head but his damp blond hair was peeking out from under it, curling up towards his ears like wings.

“Hey,” he simply greeted, right hand coming up to straighten out your necklace. It was a thin gold chain with his number, the 29 now resting comfortably between your collar bones.

You slipped your arms around his waist, stepping into his chest and that right hand now found your lower back, holding you closer.

“Hi,” you replied, tip toeing in your boots to peck a kiss to his lips. “Think you can score that goal a little earlier next time?”

A teasing smirk lifted your lips and you watched the way his eyes followed it, the comforting blue of them lighting up with your smile. “Lucky I didn’t make you wait until a shoot-out.” He replied, knowing how you couldn’t stand the anxiety of watching them.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his little chuckle as he took you by the hand and led you back through the arena to the players parking lot. Most of the guys had left by then, already heading to the roof top bar one of the wives picked for tonight’s celebration. Nate always took the longest to leave after a game, following his diligent and relaxing recovery routine.

By the time the two of you joined the rest of the team downtown, they’d already established a large string of tall tables together and Mikko was drinking champagne straight out of the bottle. He saved two seats for you and Nate, sitting your boyfriend right next to him and letting you sit by the end so you could chat with Mel and Gabe. Of course Gabe and Mikko flittered around, squishing between other chattering teammates or delivering drinks from the bar.

Nate only got up once, kissing the top of your head before heading to the bar. He returned with an espresso martini for you and some light calorie beer for himself. Other than that, he was stuck to his seat with an arm stretched out behind you.

Throughout the night he sipped on his one beer, still sticking to his in-season diet. Even when you needed another martini, he’d send Bo with instructions to put it on his tab, not even sparing the younger boy a glance as he did so.

No he kept his eyes on you. You could feel his gaze on your mouth when you raised your voice over the music to answer Mel or when you laughed along with Susana at the expense of her drunk boyfriend. He watched you fiddle with the number on your necklace, straightening it out or simply rubbing your fingers over the cool metal. But his gaze was never heated, at least not with lust.

It was warm with love.

A glow of morning sun across your cheeks, the rays waking you up after a long night.

“You ok?” You asked him after Susana disappeared to the bathroom with Mel, turning your body towards him until your knees pressed into his spread thighs.

Nate hummed, turning to face you as his eyes flickered over your face like he couldn’t decide where to look. He rested his left elbow on the back of his chair, his foot locking around the leg of yours and he drug you closer.

“Perfect,” he finally replied, fingers finding the loose strands of your hair. He twirled his finger around a lock of curled hair, twisting it around his fingers mindlessly. “You?”

Cheeks flushing with heat, you leaned forward until your nose met his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You’re being sweet tonight,” you comment, pleasant goosebumps rising on your arms as he continued to play with your hair.

“I’m always sweet.”

You laughed. “Extra sweet, then.”

His chest fumbled with laughter, the breath of his chuckle hot on the crown of your head. Nate stayed quiet and you left him to his thoughts, closing your eyes to simply enjoy the feeling of his body against yours.

You don’t how much time had passed before he pulled you back by the collar of your leather jacket, nudging you to look up at him. Compliant, you met the warmth of his gaze and noticed the way he just seemed to glow extra tonight.

“I love you,” he said, lips curling with a smile. “I don’t think I say it enough but yeah. Love ya kid.”

Giggling, you cupped your hand behind his neck and drug his mouth down to yours.

“Love you more, kid.”

Sealing your lips together, you decided that he does say he loves you enough. But you’ll never complain for him saying it extra.

[arviyya]

my sin is that I once found somebody on their socials, and I only knew their first name, nothing more.

I met them at work, this person was in my workplace just for one day for support cause many people were sick that day, and this person was so beautiful and I'm a fu**in smart stalker lol.

soooo rosekiller vibes? yeaaaa

Ohhhh this is sooo Rosekiller - If anything is Rosekiller, it's this.

Also, sounds to me like you're just really good at sluething, you'd probably kill it as a private detective. Anyway, here goes.

tws; minor nsfw, stalking

__

The reception job was not the one that Barty had wanted, but his father insisted that he take the job to get experience after college. It was a bullshit ploy to keep an eye on him, Barty is sure. He partied far too much in school, and his father knows it.

Life is boring, if Barty has anything to say about it. This lame city, with nothing to do, is going to send him to his grave, he's sure.

Barty runs his hand through an unruly section of his hair, his feet kicked up on the desk, a magazine in hand.

"Barty."

The sound of his father's voice nearly sends him jumping out of his skin, bones and all.

"What?" Barty's tone is sharp as he lets his feet down.

His father stands to the side of his desk, his tailored suit a stark difference to Barty's jeans and t-shirt, it's the one thing he could never get Barty to do; dress like an 'office person'. Next to his father is an unfamiliar blonde, his tan skin stark against a black hoodie and black jeans. Barty's eyes linger on his face, one green and one blue eye piercing into his soul.

"This is Evan, he's come over from the east office to run IT for the day, starting with fixing that issue on your computer."

Barty hesitates for a moment. "Where's Ron and Nate?"

"They're out for the day." His father sighs, and turns to Evan. "Sorry about him-" then turns back to Barty, "You behave, and do whatever Evan says."

Barty stares at Evan, a corner of his mouth pulling up on once side. "If you insist."

His father has already turned to leave, but Evan's eyes narrow, his mouth twitching, and Barty gets the sensation that he picked up on that.

Once his father is gone he backs his chair up and gestures at the computer. "Have at it, Evan."

"Thanks." He pulls up the other chair and takes a seat, immedietly logging into the computer.

"So, how come you get to dress like that and he tries to get me to dress like him?"

"Because I have skills he doesn't have." Evan doesn't look at him, typing on the computer. While Evan stares at that, Barty stares at Evan.

"So, know of anything fun to do in this city?"

Evan nods, distractedly. "Yeah. Like all cities, there are fun things to do."

"Like?"

"I don't know, man, there are clubs, parties, bars."

Barty leans forward, no sense of decorum. "Come on, pretend I'm new and don't know anything."

Evan rounds on him, but it isn't hostile, if anything it's the air of someone sizing him up. "There's a bar downtown, The Leaky, you might like it."

Barty nods, "The Leaky. Got it. No... parties or anything?"

"There are some," Evan turns back to the computer, typing more shit that Barty couldn't care less about. "There. Done. Should be fixed."

"I didn't even know anything was broken," Barty says as he shrugs.

"That tracks." Evan stands up and doesn't even look back as he heads through the door and into the area with the other offices.

Given that there's another entrance, Barty thinks it's possible that he won't even see the cute blonde again, so he does what makes the most sense to him; scours the internet.

He starts on instagram, searching the name Evan, then facebook and finds nothing. Far too many Evan's. Then, he switches tactics, using the filter feature on facebook, he searches for any Evan's that work for the same company as them. Nothing. He searches mutual friends lists, and searches for Evan's who list their hometown as the city they're in. Nothing. Still nothing.

So, he goes back to instagram, heading to their company's profile to scour the photos. Nothing.

Then it clicks. "The Leaky". He finds the profile and clicks, searching first on their photos to see if he happens to be tagged in any. Nope.

Oh.

Barty grins at himself for his brilliance. Of course. Their tagged photos. If Evan is the type to select a location when at the bar, then he will surely be there.

It takes Barty about forty-five minutes of scrolling before he finds it. A photo by somebody else that has both the bar, and Evan tagged. It's definitely him. Even though his hair is dark and not blonde, Barty can tell from his different colored eyes. There's no doubt.

Evan himself doesn't have many photos posted, but what he does have is active stories. Barty knows that theoretically Evan can see if Barty looks at his stories but he no longer cares.

Bingo.

The last story is a general invite to a party at a club that night that Evan's friend is apparently hosting. Perfect.

He follows the link to the website, and finds that it is not invite only.

Double perfect.

He cancels the lame date he had made with a random technician in his father's company with a quick text. Instead, he will most certainly be going to the party at the club.

Looking positively delectable as he has the ability to do, he is certain that it will barely take any effort at all to bag Evan. In fact, he has every intention to end up with Evan balls deep in him later that night.

He smirks at himself as he sets down his phone, full of confidence because he always gets what he wants.

[th3w00ds]

Now Tell Me, What Was I to You?

@nwtbobsessedemo @colourfulmes @bondoes-art

Title From: Nothing to Me by NateWantsToBattle

Fandom: Youtuber Egos

AU: None

A/N: I got really inspired and motivated to write, so here! Have this! I really like it tbh and am excited to hear feedback! Also, I’m NOT shipping Natemare and Nate, I just wanted to play around with the dynamic I guess? Idk-

Content Warnings: Graphic violence, mutilation, self-harm, torture, psychological manipulation, emotional abuse, trauma, blood, injury, gore, disturbing imagery, psychological distress, dependency

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

Despite the wide, near skin-tearing grin on his face, Natemare was anything but happy right now. 

The man that had been his host for nearly a full decade had been having… an increasing amount of defiant thoughts. 

Natemare knew because he shared a body and mind with Nathan. But Nate didn’t get any say in what Natemare did with his body. 

He was just a passenger, and frankly, Natemare didn’t want the human gone. It was nice to have constant company. 

Natemare stared at the ground of the alleyway, and then he blinked. He opened his eyes to the inky darkness that was his and Nate’s mind, if you could call it that. 

Nate could still see out of his eyes if he wished to, but for the past three years or so he’d been in their mind more than ever, closed off. 

Natemare looked around, and saw Nate lying on the ground with his eyes closed and his hands resting on the back of his head. 

Natemare walked over to the resting singer, and grabbed him by his jacket, roughly pulling him up to his feet. 

Nate opened his eyes, which were filled with confusion and fear. Natemare’s wide grin returned, and this time it actually did split the skin. The being’s lower jaw looked like it could fall off. Then it attached to his face again, the skin healing. 

“What the fuck?!” Nate exclaimed, his voice shaky. He was trembling. “W-Whatever I did, I-I’m sorry-“ 

Natemare held a finger up to Nate’s lips, and Nate stopped talking instantly. Natemare purposefully didn’t speak yet to let Nate’s fear grow. 

“You know exactly what you did, Nate. You know exactly what you thought,” Natemare said, “And it-“ he laughed, “It pisses me off, it does! I-I mean, you thought you wanted to leave me! T-To force me out!” 

Nate shook his head no, his eyes firmly shut. “I didn’t, please, it just one passing thought, I would never, I let you in, it was my decision! I earned this!”

“Just because it was one little thought doesn’t excuse the fact that YOU HAD IT! IT DOESN’T MATTER, NATE! Y-You.. you…” The being trailed off, starting to tear up. 

“I-I can’t handle abandonment! I can’t! I… it… please don’t leave me,” Natemare said, crying. “Please! You’re my h-host, I need you! After a-a ten year bond with someone, it isn’t easy for me to just LET GO!” The fear embodiment sighed. 

Nate sighed as well, and slightly smiled. That smile quickly disappeared when Natemare grabbed either side of Nate’s face. Their fingers were tipped with very long and very sharp purple claws. 

Natemare pressed his claws into the sides of Nate’s face, blood starting to trickle out from the small wounds. 

“You don’t get to just think that, have one little conversation and just think that’s the end of it.” Natemare said, sniffling. He took one hand off Nate’s bleeding face to wipe his tears, then put it back.

He increased his grip, his claws tearing into the skin. Nate let out a scream, but it wasn’t the most painful one he could muster. Natemare wanted that. 

Natemare let go of Nate, and then waved his hand slightly. The darkness that surrounded them morphed to stab Nate in the wrists and ankles, lifting the man up. 

Nate still screamed, but he was beginning to get quieter. 

“No no no! That’s not what I want,” Natemare said in a sing-song type voice. “You’re gonna be in soooo much pain for what you did.” 

“I said I was sorry!” Nate screamed. Natemare got closer, and tapped Nate’s nose. He breathed in and out deeply, smiling again. 

“That doesn’t matter.” He said. “Now… I want you to scream for me. Loudly. Let me know that it hurts.” 

He slowly put a claw up to his right shoulder, then looking at Nate. The man stopped screaming, and was frozen in terror, his eyes wide. 

Natemare dug his claw into its shoulder, deep, and began to drag it down his arm, making a long and painful slash. His blood looked like a beautiful mix of molten gold and amethyst. 

Nate once again started screaming, and the same exact gash appeared on his arm, identical to what Natemare was doing to himself. Nate’s wound was deep, and he thrashed around where he was. 

“See? It still works. We’re still tied together, even in pain, even in our injuries, Nate,” he said. “This is proof that you can’t leave me yet.” 

Natemare stopped with the gash on his arm, and brought his hands and claws up to his throat. He plunged them deep into his flesh, and opened six long cuts on his throat. 

The same ones appeared on Nate, whose screaming had stopped as he was currently too preoccupied with choking on his own blood to do so. 

Natemare’s tears had long since dried over the markings on their face. He was done with the crying for now. This was just him letting out his anger. 

These primal feelings of rage, sadness, hopelessness- all over some human the parasitic entity was using as his host. He didn’t know any other ways to deal with them. 

It stepped closer to Nate, who was lowered slightly. It bent down in a way that would’ve broken a normal human’s spine to look at Nate’s expression, which was the best thing it’d seen today. It was pained, tired, fearful- exquisite. 

Natemare laughed. “You should see the look on your face! Holy shit this is- t-this is so good! Y’know, I was feeling all sad and sappy and shit about you wanting to leave me, and now I feel much better. But I… I am not done yet, Sharp.” 

The human looked at Natemare, unable to move. Natemare trailed its claws over Nate’s body, and then dug them firmly into his back. 

He tore into it, tearing out large chunks of flesh and bone, reveling in his host’s pained, choked out screams and sobs. 

He continued to dig into and tear out Nate’s back and insides, until there was a large gaping hole where his stomach was. 

Natemare hummed in approval, and then put the claw of an index finger on the back of Nate’s neck, and carved into it with precise measurements. 

When he was done, the initials ‘NM’ were carved onto the back of Nate’s neck. 

He walked to the front of the singer, and then he was let go from the shadows impaling his wrists and ankles. Nate fell to the floor, still unable to move, but he was able to sob. 

Natemare got closer, and sat down on the floor himself. 

“Oh, oh no- did you get hurt badly? I’m so sorry, Nate… I-I hope you can forgive me!” He said, feigning innocence with a concerned expression. “Did you really expect me to let you get away with thinking about leaving me? I told you… one little conversation wouldn’t be the end of it.” 

He gently grabbed Nate, and pulled him into his arms. Nate’s eyes turned to look at Natemare’s own, fearful and pained still. 

“Do you want to be healed? Quicker than it would usually take after one of our sessions like this?” Natemare asked. Immediately, Nate started nodding, despite the immense pain he was in from everything. 

Natemare smiled softly, and snapped his fingers. Nate’s injuries, including his slashed up throat, shoulder and the hole completely through his chest, slowly started to heal and grow back. 

After a moment, it was as if there were never any injuries to begin with. Nate let out a loud, content sigh. He was too weak right now to try to force himself out of Natemare’s grip. 

“Are you g-gonna think of leaving me again? S-Seriously consider expelling me from your body?” Natemare asked a second question to the exhausted Nate. He was already tearing up again, damn it. 

Just the thought of his host for ten years rejecting him and expelling him made his mind start to race and made him hyperventilate.

“N-No, I won’t.. no,” Nate said weakly. Natemare now let a genuine, real smile cross his face. He hugged Nate tightly, and just stayed there. 

He’d never go. 

Not if his life depended on it. 

[spopsalt]

https://www.tumblr.com/turtleedovee/638447163521810432/just-learned-that-noelle-herself-believes-that?source=share

Thoughts (no hate to op)

DO NOT HARASS OP

I really feel bad for these people, I understand that they want good representation, but if that's true than Catra is just a walking angry Latino stereotype, and also they are voiced by a white person soooo yeahhhh, also I stand by what I said that Catra is a cat, not a Latino person. Also just to clarify, this post uses Nate's dead name, I'm going to assume it was before Nate came out, just wanted to bring it up so everybody understands Nate does not go by that anymore.

[steveharrington]

devil wears prada thoughts 👀

controversial opinion time: i know everyone says her boyfriend is an asshole but i honestly don’t think so SORRY like. he is not cruel to her, they literally don’t even fight until she snaps at him first over an innocent comment because she already feels guilty over the emily situation. and when they DO fight he literally says look i don’t care what job you’re doing but just own up to the fact that your priorities have changed instead of pretending you have no other choice!!! also this comment came AFTER she openly flirted with another man!!! also she’s like “well you just hate miranda >:(“ and it’s like yeah ofc he would… wouldn’t you want your boyfriend to hate the woman who tortures you…. like the movie uses nate as the voice of reason imo but every time i see people discuss it they’re like nate is an EVIL MISOGYNIST but he doesn’t get upset that she’s suddenly no longer like other girls, he gets upset that she has 0 time for her relationship anymore and won’t just admit that she’s an adult making her own decisions and the decision she’s making puts their relationship at odds. period.

also everyone at andy’s workplace is an asshole like nigel calls her fat and ugly every single scene and is like “oh you’re a victim of a hostile work environment? well too bad miranda is just doing her JOB” like alright bootlicker….and obviously the movie acknowledges that they’re all assholes but it tries to be like “yeah but if you think about it….they’re right……” like no they aren’t. no they are not.

and i hate when people are like “she’s so right with the cerulean monologue” no she isn’t. maybe this is my own beef with the fashion industry but the attitude that everyone in the world looks to high end luxury brand names even unconsciously is soooo stupid sorry. sorry. the class discussion in this movie is a nightmare a NIGHTMARE!!!

that being said it’s one of my utmost comfort movies i watch it quite often it just makes me mad how the narrative is like “wow…miranda is actually right…..maybe she’s not so bad….you have to feel bad for her sometimes…” she is so bad. i don’t feel bad for her. don’t try to change my mind. this entire movie is a horror film for andy and the ending is the only reason i can stomach that

edit: ALSO. the whole “she chose to do that to emily” sorry miranda literally said if you don’t do this i will blacklist you from every publication. like literally ruin her Entire career. that’s not the same as intentionally fucking over emily omggg that makes me so mad

[rcbertleckie]

watching a nate mann interview and the way he lowers his voice and says 'right' reminds me of someone soooo much and idk who and im going craaazzzyyy

[life-winners-liveblog]

-[ Reeeaaalllll smooth, DL!scott…. Your feelings for SL!Jimmy are NOT showing AT ALL,,, your soooo good at hiding them *the sarcasm radiating off their voice is so blatantly obvious that it’s hurting themself-* ]

— Nate

DL!Scott: I ...don't know what you are talking about, I can't hide something that doesn't exist.

[vaperarmand]

Succession watch update!

I've changed my mind on TomGreg, I adore them they are like two puppies to me.

Shiv and Nate. His soft low voice and sad dreamy eyes have bewitched me. "I tried playing with you, you broke" omg that's so hot can she play with me i won't break please please please. Why are all the characters in this show so hot??

Kendall out of all the characters has surprised me the most so far. In the opening scene of s1 I thought he was gonna be a lame daddy's boy, who gets off on hurting people weaker than him. Now he's my babygirl I want to hold him and hug him and tell him it's gonna be okay.

omg i’m so disappointed in myself i was thinking of you this morning because i saw good tomgreg content i was going to share but i FORGOT TO LIKE IT and now i can’t find it again … smh. will do better in the future.

i’m so obsessed with the fact that they’re all luring you in because like yeah. ALSO THEY ARE SOOOO HOT. in the way that’s like. we need to do some freak shit that isn’t really sex but is. i understand tom in many parts because i too would act that freaky around shiv.

kendall also really randomly grew on me sometime around when season 4 was coming out in ways i can’t explain. he does love to get off on hurting people weaker than him but he’s just so Bad at it. you kind of feel bad for him because you want him to be better at being mean. that’s kind of all of them though. except roman randomly has success and then you’re like ewww go back to being weak (“weak”) and pathetic. so excited for you to see what terrible things happen to kendall though 😈

[druidgroves]

Chapter 01: Maybe I'll Say Maybe

Fandom: Fallout 4 Words: 6,208 Characters: Georgia Tate (Canon Divergent Sole Survivor), Nate Notes: Soooo I decided to rewrite the first chapter (01/20/2024) since it was originally written years before I started BLP proper. I'll still keep the old one linked somewhere for posterity, but going forward the story will start referencing more things from Georgia's life pre-war. Please let me know what you think! read on ao3 / read on tumblr

August 28th, 2075

Georgia Walker checks her watch for the ninth time in as many minutes.

It’s been over an hour, she thinks not for the first time, where the hell are you?

Beside her, sitting at one of the desks that didn’t even reach her knees, is Henry Tate, number twenty-three in her classroom. Henry had been working on a coloring book she’d slipped him while she had dealt with a truly inane series of phone calls (call home. Reach housekeeper? Learn Mrs. Tate is at the salon. Wait. Answer call from housekeeper, get details on pick-up. Uncle arriving ???). He didn’t seem worried about staying later than the other kids.

Maybe Georgia should talk with his first grade teacher, see if this was a pattern she should expect…

“Let me guess: alien giraffe?” she asks when he sets down his crayon.

“No,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world and to him, it is. “He’s a sick giraffe. He’s green.”

Georgia smiles a little to herself and gently smacks her forehead. “Psht, of course he’s sick, silly me. What’s his outlook, doc?”

Henry got that same look on his face that he and the other kids who still needed extra help with their four-letter words shared. Still, she’d read it was good to use an expanded vocabulary with kids. Made them more curious.

She laughs. “Is he gonna get better?”

“I dunno. I don’t think he can get better by himself,” he says.

“Well, maybe you can color him a friend to help him out,” Georgia says as she stands up from her chair and checks her watch for the tenth time. She sighs and puts on a cheery voice, “Hey, kiddo, sit tight, I’m gonna try to give Mom another call, alright? Give me juuust a second and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Miss Georgia,” Henry says, barely paying attention to her now as he attempts to find the perfect friend for his green giraffe. She can’t help but ruffle his hair a little before she leaves.

She steps out of her classroom, careful not to bend the decorations she spent all summer making. Her door is covered in all the recycled newspapers she scrounged from the people in her apartment building, painted in varying shades of green. Pasted on top of them were individually cut sunflowers with her student’s names written in neat, bubbly print in the middle. Amongst the flowers are the words “Young Minds Bloom In Ms. Walker’s Classroom!” in white paint.

As she walks past her bulletin board, the real star of the show in her opinion, she feels a little pride go through her. “Blooming Great Work!” scrawled across the sky of an entire paper vegetable garden, squeezed onto a four by eight foot sheet of compressed wood pulp. A tiny pumpkin patch in the corner, tomatoes on the vine, corn in the stalk, all crafted from more recycled newspapers. The real part she was proud of, the one no one had commented on or even noticed, was the fact that she was able to find enough papers without sensationalized political headlines.

War dominated everything from the newspapers to the television to the cereal half her students ate for breakfast (sending your kids to school hyped up on Sugar Bombs? Great plan). Most of them had a father, an older brother, or an uncle in the military, the marines, or the air force. It had become such a permeable part of the fabric of their lives, starting way before they were even a twinkle in their parent’s eyes. On the first day of school, at least three had said that their daddy/brother/uncle died in The War. Kids overshared their big feelings. Georgia knew to expect that. So the very least she could do is try to take their minds off of it in any small way she could. That included keeping it out of her classroom of seven to eight year olds when it wasn’t necessary.

As she walked past the counselor’s office, she wondered just how many big feelings passed through their door on the daily. Not many schools in Boston still had counselors on payroll anymore. Frankly, Georgia was surprised they still had the teachers on the payroll with how many slashes there had been to the national education budget in recent years. Dollar bills for pencils, textbooks, and backpacks spent on bullets, tanks, and warheads. It had almost been enough for her to give up on her degree in her junior year of college, but she pushed through if only to make taking out those damnable student loans somewhat worth it.

All that was to say, that whoever was going to be picking up Henry Tate, they may have gotten stuck behind a military blockade somewhere in the city. It happened. Didn’t make it any less frustrating to deal with.

Georgia rounds the corner of the second grade hallway and runs straight into a cloud of minty smelling smoke. She coughs, not expecting her senses to be assaulted like that in a primary school, and waves it away as she realizes who brought it in with them.

A man with tousled brown hair, broad shouldered and lean, a cigarette between his scarred lips, stares at the trophy case in front of the main office.

“‘Most Patriotic’, eh?” he says aloud like he’d been waiting for her to appear so he could make his snappy quip. “How do they even measure that in kids? I doubt any of them can say the national anthem all the way through at this age.”

“You’d be surprised,” she says before she can think, remembering the first day of school when little Henry Tate himself managed to get through the entire thing, only stumbling over the word indivisible. “By the way, you shouldn’t smoke inside a school, sir.”

The man laughs and finally looks in her direction. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes give her a quick once over.

“Why’s that? Fire hazard?” he asks.

“Among other things,” she replies. “They say smokin’ is bad for your health. I read it in Massachusetts Surgical Journal.”

“A bunch of boring brainy types would say that,” he shrugs, but snubs his cigarette out on the heel of his boot anyways and slips it back into the carton in his shirt pocket. “No offense if you’re one of those brainy types, by the way.”

A laugh sneaks past Georgia’s lips. She’s been known to indulge in a smoke or two during her breaks. “No offense taken, but I might offend you by askin’…you wouldn’t happen to be here to pick up a child, would you?”

“I am, actually,” he confirms. “Sister-in-law sent me to pick him up. Henry Tate. You know him?”

“I happen to be his teacher. I came to make another call, but he’s back in the classroom working on a friend for a green giraffe. A sick giraffe, mind you,” she says seriously, wagging a finger at him and making him chuckle. She smiles. “I’ll show you the way.”

“Be my guest,” he replies, and follows after her.

Before they can even walk through the door, Henry is rushing his uncle like a linebacker. His uncle manages to swoop him up before he can run smack into his shins, making him scream with laughter.

“Uncle Nate! Uncle Nate!” he cries.

“Yep, that’s me, kiddo,” he says and puts Henry down. “Mom was too busy to pick you up—” Georgia catches the look he throws at her just in time that says all she needed to know about his opinion of the woman. “So you get me instead. Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’re not a dis’pointment,” Henry says with a toothy grin. Then, like he remembers Georgia standing not three feet away from them, excitedly shouts, “Wait, wait, Uncle Nate! This is my teacher, Miss Georgia. She’s really nice. I like her.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Georgia laughs as he wraps his arms around her legs in a quick hug. She gives him a pat on the back, then takes Nate’s hand when he offers it to shake.

“From what I hear, he doesn’t stop talking about school, you especially,” he says. He rests an arm against the wall of cubbies nearest the door, running a hand through his hair as he talks. Georgia feels a little warmth pool in her face when she catches herself staring for a second longer than is polite.

“Well, that’s nice to hear as well,” she says after clearing her throat.

Then he winks at her, a split-second thing that makes her blush for real this time as he tells Henry, “Hey, little man. Why don’t you go get your stuff together and then we’ll swing by the Red Rocket and get us some sodas, okay? I wanna talk to your teacher for a second.”

At the promise of soda, Henry darts off with a cheer to gather his things. Nate then turns to Georgia, warm brown eyes giving her another quick once over. She shivers.

“So, is it Miss or Miz?” he asks, nodding towards the door to the classroom. “I wanna know before I make an ass of myself.”

She tries to keep her laugh quiet, putting a hand over her mouth but failing to contain her volume. Her cheeks feel hot already.

“It’s, uh, Miss. Miss Walker. M-I-S-S,” she clarifies, face growing redder by the second.

“Good to know, Miss Walker. But where’s that accent from? Down south? You sound too soft to be from here,” he continues, fiddling with the carton in his shirt pocket.

“Arkansas,” she nods, reaching up to nervously fidget with one of the curls resting on her shoulder. “Grew up outside of Little Rock, moved here for college and decided to stay. You?”

“Boston born and raised,” Nate says with pride. “Nice to know you’re not from around here.”

Georgia raises an eyebrow at him. “And why’s that?”

“Means I can show you somewhere neat on our date,” he replies with a crooked grin, her heart fluttering.

“Date?” Georgia repeats, almost sure she didn’t hear him correctly. She flounders like a fish out of water.

“If you want,” Nate concedes, holding up his hands but his grin never faltering. “C’mon, let me show you somewhere nice. Somewhere you’ve never been before.”

She tries to compose herself, giving him an amused but disbelieving look and crossing her arms. “And what if I have been there? What then?”

Nate snorts, dismissive. “Trust me. You’ve never been there before. So what do you say? One date and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Georgia considers his offer. In half a second she manages to justify either answer. On one hand, she has rules when it comes to dating, not to mention dating a family member of one of her students. It came with its own host of issues from a potential breakup ruining her classroom dynamic or even getting fired. On the other hand…She gives him her own quick once over.

He’s like a goddamn calendar man, all toned muscles in a white t-shirt and charmingly tousled hair. And that scar on his lip? All that was missing was some oil and the washboard abs he undoubtedly had under the shirt. Georgia remembers to breathe again after pushing the train of thought away. The pros quickly begin to outweigh the cons. She’d sooner stick herself with a pair of safety scissors than say no to him.

“Pick me up at six and it’s a date.”

-----

In hindsight, stabbing herself with safety scissors that afternoon might have saved Georgia no small amount of grief.

By her own account, their first date had gone well. Really well if their winnings from hustling his friends at pool in a veteran’s bar was anything to go by. That night she had learned Nathan “Nate” Tate had recently finished up his eight year commitment to the military, but now he was working in a Corvega factory his uncle owned. It was one of the many around the Boston area that had switched from producing its titular cars to jeeps and tanks in an effort to cash in on the war effort. He had his own sweet Corvega Blitz that he picked her up in, shiny and red as her lipstick.

Nate had oozed charm that night, enough to get her into his backseat on that first date, and the second one, and the third one, too. She’d become so enamored with him so fast that her mother had demanded she fly up and meet the man after a single phone call. She dragged her father along, too. Nate impressed them with flying colors. Her mother, albeit a little hesitantly, admitted she could understand her daughter’s feelings. Her father had clapped him on the shoulder and told him he was a solid man.

They were married within the next three months.

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”

“For the hundredth time, yes, Mama,” Georgia huffs, looking at her mother over her shoulder. “Besides, as you and Daddy keep remindin’ me, this weddin’ wasn’t exactly cheap. I don’t see the sense in backin’ out now.”

Georgia’s mother sighs and purses her lips as she finishes buttoning up the back of her dress. It was a simple thing, not much flair save for bits of lace and a tight sweetheart neckline her cousin said enhanced her “natural features” when the women in her family went wedding dress shopping with her. Her mother wears a blush pink dress with an empire waist and a knee-length skirt; she’d tried talking Georgia into a different color palette, but eventually acquiesced to her demands when it became clear she was indeed her mother’s daughter, headstrong and stubborn.

“A hundred percent sure?” she asks again. Georgia replies with a similar pursed expression. “Just makin’ sure, just makin’ sure…Is it such a crime for a mother to want her only daughter to be happy?”

“Mama, I am happy,” Georgia insists. She sighs then takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I am perfectly happy with Nate. Last night I talked him into us gettin’ a dog when we find a house.”

Her mother all but throws her hands up in the air, exasperated.

“Hell, honey, if a dog is all it takes for you to be happy, I don’t see why we have to go through with all of this,” she says. “I mean really, Georgia, six months? Half the people out there think it’s a damn shotgun weddin’ for God’s sake.”

“Mama!”

“Well, it’s the truth! You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No!” Georgia sighs again and refrains from playing with her neatly styled hair no matter how much she wants to fidget around. Instead, she takes one of her mother’s hands into her own and squeezes.

“I’m not pregnant—yet,” she tells her. “We’ve talked about kids. A dog is the first step, sorta. But I promise you, I’m happy with him. Ecstatic, even. Everyone outside? They can think what they want, I don’t care. I love Nate and he loves me. Isn’t that all anyone can ask for?”

She can tell her mother is biting her tongue. Instead of arguing, Georgia is pulled into a tight hug.

“Love and an expensive reception,” she says, then checks the clock on the vanity. “Almost time, hun. Let’s go.”

-----

May 1st, 2076

When Nate picks her up after work, Georgia just about makes it to the car before she starts tearing up.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asks when she collapses into the passenger seat beside him.

“My decorations!” she sobs.

Nate gives her a sideways look as he pulls out of the school parking lot. “What about ‘em?”

“They ruined them!”

“Who’s ‘them?’”

Georgia wants to scream. Instead, she lets her nails dig into the leather of her seat and heaves a sigh. She hates crying.

“Remember those two teachers I told you about? The ones who kept makin’ snippy comments about my bulletin board?” she asks, trying to jog his memory. They always had something to say whenever they walked past her classroom. Something was always either out of place or over the top for them. For a while she had blamed it on them being bitter and uncreative, but today had been the last straw.

“Oh, yeah, them. So they ruined your bulletin board?”

“They didn’t just ruin it, they–I-I walked into the school this mornin’ and, and everything was a mess. They destroyed everything I worked so fuckin’ hard on!” she manages to get out between sobs, punching the glovebox in frustration.

It was the beginning of the last month of school and she had gone all out with her new decorations. She’d spent weeks on them in between house hunting with Nate. She’d sat at his kitchen counter cutting out buckets, shovels, and beach balls out of more newspaper, creating an entire beach scene for the wall outside her classroom with the words “We ‘Shore’ Are Ready For Summer!” above them. She stayed two hours late just to put them up, and even took a cab home so Nate wouldn’t have to wait on her.

When she walked in that morning, all of it was either ripped, crumpled, or on the ground. She hadn’t cried then, but when one of those teachers walked by and commented “Oh, too bad. Guess you’ll just have to settle for some more lowkey decorations, huh?” she nearly lost it. Instead, she had managed to hold her head high, salvage what she could, and resolve to put it up again when she had the time and the super glue.

“Well,” Nate says, eyes never leaving the road, “fuck them, right? Probably just a couple of jealous old hags.”

Georgia sniffs, not quite wanting to agree but not quite disagreeing either.

“Probably just jealous,” she says, wiping away the rest of her tears and checking her face in the sun visor. Streaks of mascara and eyeliner trail down her cheeks so she does her best to wipe it off, but her eyes are still red.

“In better news,” Nate starts, finally looking over at her during a red light, “I may have found our future house.”

“Really?” Georgia asks, snapping her head over to look at him. Suddenly her problems are miles away. “Where? How? When did you find it? When can we see it?”

“In about a month,” he replies and takes a turn he doesn’t usually take on the drive home.

“A month? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Just sit tight and look pretty, alright?”

They drive all the way out to Concord, stopping only to grab a couple of sodas at a Red Rocket before Nate is driving them over a bridge into a housing development. A temporary sign in block letters reads SANCTUARY HILLS, with thirteen prefabricated homes in different states of completion. They were all either yellow or blue, some with covered carports and some without. Only one home stands in its entirety near the entrance to the neighborhood and Nate parks the car in front of it.

“Is this it?” Georgia asks excitedly as she gets out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

“Not this one, but close,” Nate replies as he joins her, then nods further up the road, “ours will be over there.”

She turns on her heel to him, eyes wide. “‘Ours?’”

Nate only gives her a sly smile in return.

“You cannot be serious right now,” Georgia says but he just keeps on smiling down at her. “Do not play with me, Nathan.”

He opens the passenger door to the car and rifles around in the glovebox for a moment, coming back out with folded papers. He barely has them in front of her before she’s snatching them out of his hands, reading them over. She looks back up at him incredulously.

“Nathan Charles Tate!” she all but shouts, making him jump. “What was goin’ through your head?! Are you crazy? Why would you make this decision without me?”

“Relax a little, would you? Plots were going fast, it was in our price range, and we can move in in a month,” he tries to tell her but she can’t keep her upset from showing. “It was now or never.”

They had been looking for somewhere to settle down since before they got married and with the housing market as terrible as it was…Maybe this was a boon falling into their laps. Maybe she was still stressed from school and taking it out on him. That wasn’t fair. Georgia sighs and hands the papers back to him.

“I just…I would’ve liked to be in the loop, y’know,” she frowns.

“I would’ve told you sooner, but you’ve been busy with school stuff. I only signed the papers today. If you’re really pissed, I can try walking back the contract, but—”

“Okay, now I know you’re definitely crazy in the head. That’d be more pain than it’s worth,” Georgia says, a small part of her beginning to think about how they’d like to decorate their first house. The idea is starting to grow on her.

“So you’re not upset?”

“Oh, no, I’m furious. But I think that can be fixed if you tell me you at least signed off on a blue one,” she says and he gives her that crooked smile that still makes her chest flutter.

“All blue for you, baby,” he says, and a little smile of her own works its way onto her face.

With that, she wraps him in a hug, burying her face in his chest. He smells like sandalwood and smoke and is warm to the touch. His arms around her and his face in her hair is comforting in the best way. He kisses her on the forehead and lifts her up by the chin, something unknowable ruminating in his mind if she judges his expression right.

“So…” he starts, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Better watch out,” she jokes and he tweaks her nose for it, making her giggle.

“Seriously, just listen. I’ve been thinking about this while we’ve been house hunting,” he says, and she gives him all of her undivided attention, “and I think you should quit your job.”

Georgia’s pleased expression drops, her eyebrows furrowed as she squints at him in the fading sunlight. Streetlamps lining the road flicker on, one after the other.

“Excuse me?” He can’t be serious.

“Let me finish before you get pissed at me again,” Nate starts, releasing her from his hug to raise his hands in defense. “Look, we have a house now. Or we will soon and you’ve been complaining about that damn school for months—”

“So you want me to quit my job right as we’re taking on a bunch of new bills? Nate, I can’t, that’s crazy!” She has to put her foot down here. Yes, her coworkers were mean, yes, the pay was shit, and yes, being the sole caretaker of twenty-eight kids for eight hours a day was perhaps the tiniest bit stressful. But it was all nothing she couldn’t handle in the long run, and she hasn’t even finished her first year.

“Listen,” Nate says again, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I got a promotion today at work. I’m off the factory floor and in the office making more than enough, plus all of my military benefits.”

“Wait, you got a promotion today? You should have led with that,” Georgia says, crossing her arms.

“I wanted to, but you started crying the second you got into the car.”

She bites her lip and concedes to his point. She hadn’t even given him a chance.

“Think about it: you, at home, putting all your creative genius into some interior decorating. Doesn’t that sound more fun than making flimsy paper decorations only for some old bat to tear them down?” Nate asks her. “And hey, we can finally get that dog you’ve been talking about.”

She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions within the last ten minutes and Georgia can’t clear her head of them while she’s still looking into his pleading eyes. He’s thrown so much information at her, but she can just about make out the specs of gold among the brown and in that instant she knows he has her just where he wants her. The more she thinks about it, the more she pictures them picking out new furniture, walking the dog around the neighborhood, cookouts with neighbors…Maybe she wants to be there, too.

“I’ll think about it,” she says finally and he grins like he’s already won. She holds up a finger, pressing it to his lips before he can try to kiss her. “Let me finish out the school year first. It’s only ‘til the end of May. After that, we’ll have plenty of time to move in and start decoratin’ over summer break.”

Nate just keeps grinning down at her, then surprises her when he scoops her up into his arms to spin her around.

“We have a house!” he cries out, his voice echoing through the empty neighborhood.

“We have a house!” Georgia shouts, laughing as he spins her.

He brings her down to plant one on her, dipping her when he does, and she can’t remember the last time she’s felt so happy after feeling so low.

-----

It takes a little less than a month before their house in Sanctuary Hills is move-in ready.

After a week of getting things unpacked and settled, Georgia tries to be neighborly. She makes a double batch of shortbread cookies with the few ingredients they have with the intent to go door-to-door and introduce herself, but it doesn’t pan out how she imagined it.

The only person who doesn’t turn her down is the man in the Hawthorne residence at the front of the neighborhood. To his credit, he was neighborly in his own way and offers to trade her the whole container for a box of Mentats that she only declines out of polite shock. Walking away, she can remember the taste of the orange ones from her college days on the tip of her tongue.

Coming home with a still-heavy container, sad and a little dejected, Georgia opens the door to her own home and walks past Nate on the couch and into the kitchen, setting the cookies on the counter.

“It’s either the new tax bracket or there’s somethin’ in the water makin’ everyone paranoid enough to turn down free food in a crisis,” she sighs, leaning against the counter and looking through their unopened mail. Bill, campaign soliciting, bill, bill, junk, paycheck, bill.

“No one wanted your cookies? More for me, then,” Nate shrugs as he watches the news.

After the news anchor reports on messages from the war front, the commercial breaks show fancy new Corvega Atomic V-8s, placement in a doomsday Vault, and domestic helper Miss Nanny robots. Then the anchor is back on screen and talks about the riots (some even inside Boston), the food shortages, and the chance that foreign spies could be anywhere. A rinse and repeat of instilled paranoia until the channel changes. It’s all so bleak that Georgia thinks she can’t blame her neighbors too much.

“Bring me one, would you?” Nate asks, gesturing over at her. “Those are my favorite.”

Georgia purses her lips at him over her shoulder while she opens the bills, “You have legs, mister. Use ‘em or lose ‘em.”

She turns back to the bills—surely the electric can’t be that high—and ignores his sigh from behind her. He walks over and pops open the tin, leaning against the counter.

“The boys invited me out to the bar this weekend,” he says through a mouthful of shortbread, then swallows. “You wanna come?”

Georgia’s eyes flit to him over the water bill. “I thought you wanted to go pick out a new bed frame this weekend. You made quite a few jokes about ‘breakin’ it in’, too.”

Nate almost appears to weigh the two options as he says, “Oh, yeah…”

“How about this,” he says, taking a bite out of another cookie, “bed frame in the morning, bar at night?”

“Maybe. I wanna take another crack at goin’ around the neighborhood,” she replies, thinking over her options. “Maybe these people just don’t like shortbread.”

Nate snorts, “Yeah, that’s it. Well, I’m going either way, so make up your mind by Friday.”

“Will do,” she nods absently, going back to calculating their bills in her head before she suddenly remembers the shortlist of chores she’d left before making her way around the neighborhood. “Hey, did you put the laundry on while I was out?”

Nate, covered in cookie crumbs, looks like a deer in headlights. She gives him a flat look.

“Sorry?” he tries, not looking the least bit guilty.

“Nevermind,” she mutters, and goes to do it herself.

-----

In July, Nate finally makes good on the promise of a dog (a sweet little Bichon Frise named Lady) and Georgia puts her resignation in. By December, regret hits her like a cast iron pan and a wooden spoon.

She sits on the couch, wrapped up in her robe as she reads her books from the library in the city. Despite all the fighting between them in the last few months, he still agrees to drive her into the city on Saturday mornings as long as he’s allowed to go out with his friends later that night. It gives her plenty of time to read, but it leaves her more than a little lonely, even with the dog, which is where the root of their problems lie.

In August, Nate told her that he was having to put in some overtime at the Corvega factory. Something about quotas not being met, workers threatening to strike, and not enough bodies on the floor. So he’s back on the line, but he assures her his uncle isn’t docking his pay. Georgia understands this and for the first few weeks she greets him at night with a late dinner and a warm shower. She even makes him breakfast to reheat in the mornings before he takes off and full lunches to share with the other men on the line. He called her his “perfect little housewife” and she ignored the twist in her stomach.

Georgia doesn’t think it would have gotten as bad between them if they had more than one car. As is, he drives it to work every day and it hadn’t taken long to get the house in order, so she was left to her own devices for the most part. She was a sociable creature, always had been, and being constrained to the house had done a number on her. The daily walks with Lady helped a little, but the dog wasn’t much of a conversational partner, and Georgia liked to talk. At one point she had even called up her sister-in-law, Margaret, and asked if she could babysit Henry, but she wasn’t willing to drive all the way out to Concord every time she needed to run an errand. So with neighbors that hated her and a husband that was rarely home, Georgia couldn’t help but feel lonely.

From the hallway, Nate stalks into the kitchen. His hair is wet from the shower and his clothes stick to him enough to show off every muscle underneath. Six months ago, she would’ve come up behind him and jumped his bones right there. As it stands, they haven’t had sex in four.

He opens the refrigerator and takes out last night’s lasagna before heading towards the side door to the carport. Georgia frowns.

“Where are you goin’? It’s nine o’clock at night,” she says and he stops at the door.

“Boys wanted to hang out,” he says quickly, “you know how it is.”

She dog-ears her book and puts it down, getting up from the couch. “Really? Why can’t you stay home tonight? Please?”

Nate’s sigh is agitated. She’s asked the wrong question.

“Why? So you can ignore me with your books then go to bed with another headache?” he asks her rhetorically. His words shock her nevertheless and she stands there, wondering what she did between now and this morning to make him bring that up.

“I’m sorry?” she says, less like an apology and more like a chance for him to take it back.

“Yeah, you should be,” he snaps, and goes for the door again. Georgia nearly flips the liquor cabinet by her side.

“Nate, are you serious? What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, following him out to the carport.

“Just leave it alone, alright? Christ. I’ll be home before midnight.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before he’s inside the car and slamming the door shut. When he peels out of the driveway, Georgia refrains from screaming into the night and slams her own door on her way back inside.

-----

January 2077

“Fuck, ow.”

Georgia squints into the bathroom mirror, face pressed close enough to where she can pluck her eyebrows with surgical precision. A stray piece of wheat blonde hair that didn’t make it into the curlers piled atop her head falls in front of her eyes and she curses again, putting the tweezers down to fix the offending piece. As she does, her blush falls into the sink and cracks the pressed powder inside, staining the porcelain pink.

“Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, can I catch a break?” she mutters, salvaging what she can and closing the compact.

In the trashcan by the toilet are seven positive pregnancy tests she walked all the way to the pharmacy in Concord to get. She had tried to be discreet, but the girl behind the counter had congratulated her loudly enough to draw the attention of a few other customers, and hid a family planning pamphlet between the boxes. Georgia walked out of there sweating like a sinner in church.

She spies her wedding ring beside the hot water handle, and given that it’s pertinent she wears it tonight, she slips it onto her finger before it has a chance to fall down the drain. That was the last thing she needed.

Georgia is pregnant, and she doesn’t feel half as excited as she thought she would.

She and Nate had talked about having kids, of course. It was the main topic of their third date. He told her he’d always wanted a big family—a pretty wife, four kids minimum, and a protective yet lovable dog (they were still working on the dog, surprisingly. Lady ended up pissing on Nate’s side of the bed soon after they got her and was given to her mother-in-law a little while later).

Georgia wanted a family, too, of course. She had always imagined herself having kids someday, but she thought that reality was a little further away. Twenty-three still feels too early to become a mother even if most of her old college friends she hasn’t talked to in two years are starting families as well. It all feels so sudden, even if it’s exactly what she planned.

She files the thoughts away for later, and focuses on finishing up her face. Her makeup had gone untouched for a while after she stopped leaving the house as much, but she knew Nate liked when she dolled herself up. Hopefully it will help.

Once her face is powdered, her hair curled, and lips lined, she goes to their closet to pull out her best dress. Pink, of course, with flowery lace around the hem. She slips it on, careful of her curls, and debates on adding a blue belt just to be on theme before deciding against it. Besides, maybe the pink will help manifest a little girl. On the dresser is her eighth pregnancy test, sealed inside a plastic bag. She slips it into her pocket just as she hears a car pull into the driveway.

Things with Nate have been…better. Not great, but better. He’s stopped going out as much and she’s been less demanding of him. Their relationship was fractured, yes, but she knew in her heart that after today, it would be repaired and made to last.

She’s in the kitchen when he comes in, jumpsuit wrinkled and dirty. Georgia can smell the sweat on him from five feet away.

“Georgia, I’m—Oh, well look at you,” Nate says, giving her a long look from her head to her feet.

She smiles and gives him a little twirl and when he whistles at her, warmth blooms in her chest. He walks over and wraps her up in his arms. Georgia takes a deep breath, swallows the lump that forms in her throat, and hugs him back.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, looking down at her.

Her hand disappears into her pocket. When she pulls out the pregnancy test and sees Nate’s face, she almost wishes she could photograph it and save it forever.

She takes a deep breath, and her voice doesn’t even crack when she inhales the perfume on his collar. She puts on a smile.

“I’m pregnant.”

[jamietxrtt]

okay. so i just watched it twice, and here are my thoughts about ted lasso season 3, episode 1. don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled:

I WAS RIGHTTTTTT ABOUT TED BEING THE FACE OF THIS SEASON I WAS RIGHTTTT I WAS RIGHTTTT. it HAS to be about his growth at the end of the day. that’s what the show’s ABOUT

love the opening on ted’s face while someone calls for the last warning for kansas city. how much do we want to guess the season will end the same way, with a settled, satisfied look on his face this time, while somebody calls “passenger lasso for kansas city”?

“amen big ben” WAHHHH. WHENEVER HENRY MIMICKS TED’S SPEECH PATTERNS IT GETS ME SOOOO

ted immediately joking about drinking alcohol with the gift from his son. hm.

“when you get home, will you give your mom a big squeeze for me and le her know i love her”? i’m not sure that’s still appropriate to say about your ex wife, ted

ted looks so jason-ish with stubble lmao.

I’M SO GLAD HE’S STILL TALKING WITH SHARON. THANK GOD HE NEEDS IT

the way his voice shakes on “hey doc… yeah, no, i’m fine.”

“until my dad remembered to come pick me up”..... he sounds a bit angry in this line….

JESUS HIS FAVORITE TEACHER GOT KILLED BEFORE HE WAS ABLE TO THANK HIM FOR TAKING CARE OF HIM?????? HOW MUCH TRAGEDY WAS IN YOUNG TED’S LIFE HOW MUCH GRIEF DID HE HAVE TO ENDURE

he still has the nate christmas photo up in his apartment, right where it was before, right next to the henry photo……..

“maybe my being here is doing more hurting than helping at this point” very reminiscent of “eventually it seemed like me being around so much was doing more harm than good

“are you seeing anyone?” “pass.” “ahh, you usually say no!” how many times has ted asked if she’s dating someone????

“you finally got off” “not yet i haven’t” GOOD FOR HER?????? GET IT QUEEN

rebecca and higgins just chilling and reading newspapers with each other wahhh i love when they’re friends

the way rebecca keeps referring to west ham as rupert….. oof. oh girl. even ted goes “ohhh boy”. it can’t not be personal for her

i love how whenever rebecca doesn’t know how to respond to something, she just goes “....... okay” with a kind of perplexed half-smile on her face. she’s done it throughout all three seasons and it’s delightful

“maybe they’re trying to motivate us” aww dani

BOTH DANI AND RICHARD IMMEDIATELY CROSSING THEMSELVES WHEN COLIN MENTIONS THE NUN ALSKFJLDKSJFD

“hey, lads! we ain’t gonna get relegated because we’re together! and together… we’ve got me!” AHAHHAA jamie being jamie…. love him forever

everyone throwing towels and stuff at jan mass when he mentions what’s statistically likely to happen LASKJFLKSDJLFKJDSLFJDL something about that is so sweet and friendlylike

beard and roy being FRIENDSSSS

love that ted still keeps the gag from s1 of calling the other coaches pet names, he says “what’s up, sweetie pie” to beard

roy having an inferiority complex by comparing himself to NATE???? that's very…… interesting. especially since nate spent all of last season trying to be roy.

nate in his little green car….

“good morning coach shelley” and he doesn’t even notice. wow…. he’s really embraced this. and then the “there he is, the wonderkid himself” “get out.” WOOF.

KJPR??? Keeley Jones PR????

ohh she’s representing Rebecca at her new company!! rebecca is a client of hers now!!

keeley in a office full of boring stiffs who don’t get her whimsy… aw keeley. don’t let them cramp your style! maybe they’ll be made sympathetic though who knows

and yet she still calls them all “poets and geniuses” even though they clearly don’t like her… keeley you ray of sunshine i adore you

when keeley just throws rebecca’s jacket on a couch and rebecca’s face is just like “uh…. ok” ASLKDFJLSDJFLKDSJFLKSD

KEELEY IMMEDIATELY BREAKING DOWN IN TEARS AS SOON AS THE OFFICE IS COVERED AWWWWWWWW KEELEYYYYYYY. seeing her crying and upset is so upsetting to me. like i see jamie in agony and i’m like YESSSSS but i see keeley upset and i also want to start sobbing

love that rebecca is there to take care of her though <3

and i’m kind of excited! i think this means we’re going to be able to see more of keeley’s internal world this season! one problem with her i’ve always had is that i feel like she’s always a bit too perfect-- she always knows the exact right thing to do, the exact right thing to say, she always gives the best advice. it sometimes felt like she was only ever fixing other peoples’ problems, not dealing with problems of her own. but it looks like she’s allowed to have problems this season!!! yay!!!

the boys chatting while training :) they’re so cute they’re little buddies i love them

roy: “what the fuck are you two talking about, we are outside.” beard: “HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE >:3” i love him

“EVERYONE RUN EXCEPT ROY LET’S GO” so sweet how he’s considerate of roy’s knee :) 

“wow, rupert’s really got stuck in your head these days, huh?” “no! … i mean, yes, but…” get rebecca in some therapy 2k23 on god rebecca we can NOT end the season without you having seen a therapist

barbara lady trying to crush keeley’s whimsy :(((((((

“thank you for the advice” “thank you for your bosom” “anytime” I LOVEEEE TWO FRIENDSSSSS

“this right here is the dum dum line” nate what are you, 5?

“five more minutes of this, then just run them ‘till they drop” WOOF… NOT THE BEST TACTIC TO GET THE TEAM ON YOUR SIDE

when he turns around and the secretary lady is gone and nate does his trademark little “oh my god…..” HE’S STILL THE SAME PERSON. even with all the differences in his life and his personality now he still has that little “oh my god….” think he’s had since the very first season

rupert wearing the all black suit… yes nate was trying to emulate roy with the black suit last season, but maybe he was also trying to emulate rupert???

oooof when rupert slaps the newspaper as he’s laughing, nate flinches and his smile suddenly disappears….. ooooooof oooooof

“they didn’t know what they had letting you go. nathan shelley, you are a killer” MANIPULATION MANIPULATION

nate’s face on “.....i can move it.” like he’s expected to get yelled at…. oof

not lost on me that rupert always calls him “nathan” whereas ted always called him “nate”

so good to finally see those spoilers from a YEAR AGO of the team out and about in those new kits out in london come to fruition… it’s been soooo long. those were the first s3 spoilers we ever got. wonderful

rebecca rushing to see the press conference…. baby you have to learn how to not care

“i’ve had this dry cleaned now six time. can’t believe she wears stuff like this on her eyes”

higgins’ choking sound… love that he still has that

“aint much scarier out there than a creepy clown, right?” then it immediately cuts to rupert HA

jamie with his shirt over his nose is so cute

THE WHOLE TEAM CONGRATULATING BEARD ON GETTING IT RIGHT… SO CUTE

nate’s still harping on the wonder kid thing… dang

NATE PANIC ATTACK????? god just like ted’s…… and then the spit aND THE WAY HE WIPES HIS EYE RIGHT AFTER. NATE YOU MAKE ME WEEP BUDDY

typical nate. feels threatened and so goes on the counterattack. same as jamie did back in s1. best way to get them to stop poking fun at you is to beat them to the punch and lash out at them first.

cutting between the press conference and the boys in the sewer… interesting interesting

jamie’s little “wtf?” hand after roy yells ASLKDFJLSJFLDKSJF

“coach?” “yeah, jamie.” “we’re surrounded by poopeh.” WAHHHHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. MY SON

so many hurt feelings…. so much hurt…. by ted, by the team, by rebecca and higgins…. they all knew nate….. so much hurt here… god

beard WOULD like kenneth

“hey, hey, lads, lads! remember, it’s just poopeh. let it flow.” YESSSSS JAMIE TAKING ON THE TED ROLE AND CONSOLING THE TEAM YESSSSS BABY UR A LEADER ON THE TEAM NOW I’M SO PROUD OF U.

when dani says “clever, jamie, muy intellegento, jamie!” I LOVE HOW MUCH DANI LOVES HIM

also the way ted was ready to step in but both beard and roy stopped him because they knew it was time to let someone on the team reinterpret ted’s philosophy… yesssss

when rebecca calls him “coach lasso” instead of ted…..

“i am begging you. please. fight back.” but then later ted ignores that advice and does his charm and disarm that he usually goes with, and keeley sends rebecca that text “way to let ted be ted!” really reaffirms that rebecca was in the wrong there, that she had to trust how ted was going to handle it

ted going full self-deprecating in the face of nate’s insults is so perfect too. like yes, he still compliments nate, never says a bad word about him, refuses to stoop to his level. but it endears him to the public-- and, crucially, it also IS kind of a way to backhandedly get at nate. it’s a way for ted to come off looking more clever and quick-witted and smart, at the end of the day. it’s a way for him to win this battle without ever putting up a fight.

interesting too how it calls back to the advice he gives rebecca in s1 at the gala-- “just a trick of the trade, make fun of yourself, right off the bat. folks will love that.” here he’s employing his own advice. making fun of himself to endear himself to the public.

“i’ve had more psychotic episodes than twin peaks” SO interesting to me that he’s able to so freely talk about the panic attacks and make fun of himself for it here… very very interesting. not sure how i feel about that

the way nathan’s father is still upset about him swearing??? like he’s 14 or something???? his parents infantilize him SO MUCH…. i’m sure that’s where a lot of his issues regarding respect ultimately stem from

buying nate the new car… something to be said here about status and class, but i’m not smart enough to say it.

“it’s a car” and nate laughs at first because he thinks she’s kidding, but then he’s like “oh wait…. oh.”

OKAY. LOOK. I KNOW IT’S BAD FOR HIS DEVELOPMENT AS A PERSON. BUT. THAT CAR SEQUENCE WAS SICK AS HELL.

roy is looking at keeley while keeley looks down at her phone… then she puts down her phone and looks at him, and he immediately looks down at his drink…. oof.

keeley’s jacket is so spectacular. not the point but i love it

“we’re going on a break” vs. “we broke up”... ooooof

“because…. we thought you’d wanna hang out with me sometimes” AH. KEELEY SOUNDS SO INSECURE ON THIS LINE. BABEEEEEE

roy’s whole face journey before he says “we’re too busy.” is… oof. got me in my feels

keeley trying to comfort roy about his anxiety about not being a good enough coach, but then she has to stop himself…. babe you can’t do that anymore. it’s not your place. he’s not yours like that anymore.

if i had to rank these people in order of how well they’re handling this interaction, it would be: phoebe, keeley, roy. roy’s really not doing much of the legwork here. and phoebe is astounding in how she’s managing to smooth out their feelings, instead of the other way around. i NEED to meet her mom

“i think you’re being stupid” not messing around phoebe, i like it

beard never gives his opinion when ted expresses how he’s not sure why they’re still here.. unsure what that means. he thinks they should go home but doesn’t want to mess with ted’s headspace even more? he thinks ted should figure this one out himself and doesn’t want to influence him? he’s bothered by ted’s unquestioning use of “we” (“wonder why we’re still here.”) when maybe what beard wants is different from what ted wants? could be any of the above. i’m not sure

putting lego nate next to lego ted….. weeping sobbing crying

“who’s jake?” “mommy’s friend.” “..........great…..” AHHHHHHHHHH. poor ted is going throughhhhh ittttttttt