#dani’s late night thoughts

[jakexneytiri]

my personal hc that all of the sully kids know the lorax bc jake reads it to them before bed 😭 neytiri was hesitant at first but respects it because it’s one of grace’s favorites

[kowupt]

it's midnight BUT i'm going to share my thoughts on season 3 of squid games, spoilers under the cut :o //

oh where do i start . . 💔

knowing that s3 is the last season is awfully sad because i have a teeny feeling that the fandom wouldn't last AND because this season wasn't executed the way i (and some other fans) wanted it to go :c

i felt like gi-hun's character wasn't fleshed out enough. it didn't felt like he was the protagonist and supposed anti-hero of the story because almost the entirety of the first and second episode was him turning a blind rage fixation towards dae-ho. (which btw feels super out of character for me for a man who wanted to do the greater good and stop the games?!)

speaking of dae-ho, it felt as if his whole character was cut off the potential he actually had. his death was underwhelming too! and also the plot twist of him never being in the marines???

i love how they did hyun-ju, jun-hee, geum-ja and young-sik's character this season though (despite their tragic deaths hdh i'm lewkin at you >:c) i was devastated by hyun-ju's death because it was not needed at all!? maybe i'm just projecting towards my love for her ugh. i hope that she meets young-mi in the afterlife and they can frolick in the fields together.

myung-gi needs tew be locked up immediately for what he's done. playing house with his new boyfriend nam-gyu honestly ticked me off because he VOWED to protect jun-hee, yet never did his job! also he does not give a decaf about the baby LMAOO..

i had this feeling myung-gi would have potential at the end of season 2 but i was so wrong because he never got that redemption.

and oh, geum-ja and young-sik.. my heart cries for them because i couldn't imagine losing your own son out of your own (reasonable) doing.. and imagine the fear young-sik went through throughout the first game when he couldn't find the right courage to kill! :c

i think jun-hee's character this season was decently played out, her death made me sob because she literally had no other choice with that booboo on her ankle! (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) honestly everything went downhill after she gave birth oops!

nam-gyu's situation was just sad tbh because he was very deep into the drugs to even think straight, the drugs being the cause of his death too! ( ;´ - `;) greedy pants..

min-su.. 💔 oh min-su.. you shouldn't've got your grimy hands on those drugs my love.. the se-mi hallucinations broke my heart because it must've been rooted by such deep guilt towards her death oh my baby.. .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. the way he was cornered by disgusting, greedy men at the last game, treating as if his death would be a sacrifice for the greater good just hurts my heart.

and can i just say FUCKKK that finalist roster because there are literally no good-moraled player for the last game? (except for gi-hun, the baby and min-su if he hadn't taken the drugs)

the vips too, i just skipped through their parts cause >.<

and the hwang brothers were not done justice because their interaction was too bland (¬､¬)

some parts i actually enjoyed was surprisingly the boat scenes (even though jun-ho took his good ol' time searching for the island) and adventures with no-eul and gyeongseok! how cute :3

the ending was bittersweet like hdh promised but i just can't believe that this would be the end of squid games because the ending we were given was sadly not satisfying enuff (maybe i'm just greedy LOL i'm just wayy too attached to the series)

overall this season is good if you like pain hehe okay im already asleep honkkk shooo honkk shoo dis i just a bunc of yyappijgn i will NOT be tuning in to us sg

[ladyofchroyane]

just my opinion but the way some ppl zero in on jon’s aversion to ‘feminine’ women without acknowledging that this is pretty clearly a trauma response kinda sets me on edge. jon very obviously does not take issue with feminine traits, see: sam, and so you know that the true issue isn’t so clear cut. imo the issue lies in the fact that jon being at the wall means that his little world does not really expand to the female sector. he’s surrounded by men. allllll men. (my worst nightmare.) and many of the women he does meet actually slot nicely into the non-conforming sector he’s comfortable with because he was raised with a binary ‘traditional conforming lady v all the other women’ idea. so. femininity is not jon’s issue. it’s how femininity is presented through traditional noble ladyhood (or whatever it’s called). jon associates this stuff with bad memories because of trauma. dun dun dun. like woahh it also serves as a character flaw, but let’s not dumb it down to ‘jon just rly doesn’t like feminine women.’ like no. that’s not what’s going on. it’s because of exposure. it’s the dynamics he was exposed to, and because of that he has issues. these issues are only reinforced by selyse who’s… not a good person. selyse is the first true conforming lady jon meets in a long while and all she does is reinforce his notions that traditional ladies aren’t for him. does that make jon’s comments okay? no. but what jon actually needs is to meet up with sansa or meet other conforming ladies who fit the traditional noble lady archetype. he basically needs exposure therapy.

like. you’ll also notice that his thought: ‘a warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her’ is sooo stereotypical. my dude doesn’t know shit and is literally going with the most classic fairytale lingo he can imagine. it’s honestly silly. also, while the language is misogynistic (i obvi agree there), it also sets jon up as a character who appreciates active women and as an active helper to those women.

so yeah. 1. trauma 2. he doesn’t know shit 3. misogynistic lang 4. he respects and appreciates how val is active and takes her life into her own hands despite the circumstances she’s in.

something important to note is that val is also feminine. she just doesn’t fit into the traditional lady archetype, which is why we get that quote. val’s a princess to jon, he just can’t bring himself to slot her into the traditional conforming lady binary he understands, which is why we get warrior princess. (tbh i’m now seeing this quote as growth for jon? he was allowing himself to see beyond the binary here.)

so yeah.

turning this into a… ‘jon wouldn’t like dany because she’s feminine’ is like the worst way to interpret this. like just say you don’t like snowstorm and jon and go 👍

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted #2

Danny lounged on the couch in the Batcave, his feet propped up as he casually flipped through some of Bruce’s files. Damian stood nearby, arms crossed, scowling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian huffed. “I am Father’s heir. It is my birthright.”

Danny smirked, glancing at him over the top of the tablet. “Hate to break it to you, little bro, but I’m older. By all of three minutes, but hey, it still counts.”

“You have no proof,” Damian snapped, his voice sharp.

“Actually,” Tim interjected, walking in with a file in hand, “it’s right here. Clockwork dropped the records off yesterday. Danny’s technically the firstborn.”

Damian’s face twisted into a mix of shock and outrage. “This is preposterous! I trained for years in the League to be the heir. He—” Damian gestured at Danny, who was now grinning smugly, “—is a half-ghost nomad raised by peasants!”

“Whoa, peasants?” Danny said, holding up his hands. “I’ll have you know I was raised by two highly educated ghost hunters who built portals to alternate dimensions in their basement. So technically, I was raised by nerds.”

Jason, leaning against the wall, barked out a laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”

Things escalated when Danielle made her debut in Gotham. She’d been causing a bit of chaos in Amity Park, and Danny figured bringing her to the Manor might help her channel her energy.

When Dani strutted into the Batcave, grinning like a gremlin with her wild energy, the reactions were... mixed.

“She’s my clone,” Danny explained, his tone casual. “But I kinda see her more like a daughter.”

“Daughter?” Damian repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You... have a daughter?”

Dani, ever the instigator, threw her arms around Danny’s waist. “Yup! My Dad’s the best!” she chirped, shooting a cheeky grin at Damian. “He’s way cooler than you, by the way.”

Damian bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You’re barely older than me, yet you have already claimed an heir?” His voice trembled with a mix of indignation and something close to panic.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “She’s not an ‘heir.’ She’s just... Dani. And technically, she’s my clone, not my biological kid. It’s complicated.”

But Damian was already lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Late that night, Damian approached Jason. “Todd,” he said, his tone serious. “I require your assistance.”

Jason blinked. “Uh, with what?”

“I must find a suitable candidate to bear my child.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I am not,” Damian replied, his expression unyielding. “If Daniel has already produced a successor, then I must act swiftly to secure my own lineage.”

Jason clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Oh, man, this is rich. Demon Spawn wants to have a baby just to one-up his ghost brother.”

“It is not a matter of one-upmanship,” Damian insisted, though the faint pink tinge in his cheeks said otherwise.

The next morning, Danny caught wind of Damian’s... ambition. He found his younger twin in the training room, furiously sparring with a practice dummy.

“Hey, Dames,” Danny said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Do not call me that,” Damian growled, landing a particularly vicious strike on the dummy.

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I heard a little rumor. Something about you wanting to, uh, find a lady to have a kid with?”

Damian froze mid-strike, then turned to glare at Danny. “Who told you that?”

Danny smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Look, man, you don’t need to go all ‘League heir’ about this. Dani’s not my biological kid. She’s a clone. Like, literally made from my DNA. I didn’t exactly sign up for the whole ‘parent’ thing—it just kinda happened.”

Damian’s glare softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. “And yet, you claim her as your own.”

“Yeah, because she’s family,” Danny said simply. “She needed someone, so I stepped up. That’s what family does.”

Damian lowered his gaze, his fists unclenching. “I see.”

A few weeks later, Talia’s clone assassins made their move. But instead of eliminating them, Damian captured and brought them to the Manor.

“Father,” he declared, standing proudly before Bruce, “I have decided to take responsibility for these clones. They are my family, and I will train them to uphold the legacy of the League.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian—”

“Not bad, kid,” Jason said, clapping him on the back. “But you might want to workshop the pitch. Sounds a little murder-y.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Now we have more mini-Damians running around.”

Danny, watching from the sidelines with Dani by his side, couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”

“You think he’s doing this to one-up you?” Dani asked.

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, grinning. “And I love it.”

While the Bat-family adjusted to the sudden influx of clones, Danny and Damian’s relationship began to shift. Though their rivalry remained, it was tempered by a growing mutual respect.

“I still do not approve of your cavalier attitude,” Damian said one night as they patrolled Gotham together.

“And I still think you need to loosen up,” Danny shot back.

Damian huffed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he was starting to appreciate having an older brother who wasn’t afraid to challenge him—or support him.

And for Danny, seeing his once-distant twin slowly open up was worth all the sibling squabbles in the world.

[corkinavoid]

Demon twins au where Danny left one last message to Damian before he faked his death. Years later, Danny shows up at Wayne Manor, and refuses to speak to anyone until he sees Damian.

His first words to his brother were from that last message

DPxDC Last Words

Damian looks at the boy sitting in Father's study. It's like looking in the mirror, except not anymore: a stretched out t-shirt and jeans with a hole on the knee instead of a black, fitted League uniform, a slouched posture instead of a proper stance, an unbecoming habit of biting his bottom lip instead of an emotionless mask.

But the eyes, blue like the winter sky, so unlike Damian's — their only difference once upon a time — are the same.

Damian still remembers that night. He remembers the metal hitting metal, the scream stuck in his throat, the pain in his side. He still has the scar. He remembers the run and the chase, and he remembers his brother, his twin, his other half, pressing his cheek to his.

He remembers the warm blood under his hands, the quiet breath over his ear, and the words that were only for him, whispered softly with a smile.

"After you die, which part of you will be the last to fail you?"

And then, he remembers the emptiness, the absence, the loss. Grandfather congratulated him on becoming the sole Heir, praised him for taking what was his and only his birthright. Grandfather was a fool.

Damian looks at the boy. Takes a small breath, opens his mouth, the old name rusty on his tongue, "Dany-"

"Your pupils," the boy suddenly cuts him off, staring right into Damian's eyes, the corner of his lip twitching, "They dilate."

Damian stops short, all the complicated thoughts and feelings inside him coming to a sudden halt and leaving him in complete silence.

He blinks.

Danyal's lip twitches again, and Damian finally realizes it's not a nervous gesture. The boy is simply trying to hide a grin.

Dilate. Die-late.

Something inside Damian's mind snaps, breaking his composure instantly, and he throws himself at his brother with a feral, animalistic growl, fully intending on clawing his eyes out. Just to show the insufferable moron how quickly his pupils are going to really die.

Danyal laughs, loud and cheeky. He blocks the strike because, of course, he does, but they fall down to the floor anyway, and then the whole rest of the family spills inside the study from where they were obviously eavesdropping, and the room becomes a mess in less than two seconds. Grayson is yelling, Drake is trying to hold Damian from another strike, Thomas is helping Danyal get up.

Father is still in the doorway, a helpless sort of expression on his face when he looks at Damian.

"Is he-"

"Father, this is Danyal al Ghul, my formerly believed to be deceased brother, alive and in his right mind," Damian sneers out, still glaring daggers at his twin, "But not for long."

Danyal snorts a laugh, a playful, challenging grin playing on his lips.

"Oh, you're on, Dami."

[soeyekonic]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. back to friends ⭑ D.A

˚⟡˖⋆ synopsis after months of pretending nothing happened, dani overhears you talking about someone new, and suddenly, the silence between you isn’t so easy to ignore anymore.

disclaimer: daniela avanzini x fem!reader. pt2 of ‘you get me so high’. slight angst… i feel like it isn’t heavy but from what i learned from pt1, my perception might be a bit off 😣

currently playing: back to friends - sombr

the weeks after the livestream feel like walking through an old house you used to live in.

everything’s still there, her laugh, her hoodie draped over a chair, the late-night snacks she picks at in the green room. but now, there’s something missing.

the warmth that used to live in the silence between you. the comfort of her hand brushing yours when no one was looking. the secret you used to share like a song only you two could hear.

you still talk.

you still work together, still dance, still stand next to each other in interviews.

you still laugh when she says something stupid and roll your eyes when she steals the last fry. and every so often, she slips.

a look that lasts too long.

a text at 2:14 a.m.

a kiss behind a locked bathroom door in a hotel in korea.

you let her. every time, you let her. because you want to believe maybe this time will be different. that she’ll wake up and finally say it out loud.

choose you out loud.

but she never does.

instead, she pulls away before the sun comes up and says, “we should keep this between us,” like that’s love.

—

you start pulling back. not all at once, but in tiny pieces.

you answer her texts slower, you start sleeping with your door locked, you stop waiting for her to choose you.

and one day, you realize it’s not even anger anymore. it’s grief. grief for the version of her you thought might fight for you.

—

it’s been three months. enough time to fake some kind of peace.

you’re sitting on the floor of the dance studio with lara, scrolling through photos between run-throughs. she’s got her head on your shoulder, watching your screen.

you swipe past a blurry selfie, sunlight and someone else’s smile tucked into your neck.

“who’s that?” lara grins.

you hesitate for half a beat. “oh, uhm. her name’s mia,” you say finally. “we’ve been seeing each other a little.”

lara blinks. then smiles softly, genuine. “you look happy.”

you do. or maybe you're trying to be.

you don’t look up at her, but someone else hears.

across the studio, daniela freezes mid-step, she wasn’t supposed to be listening. she wasn’t supposed to care.

but she does.

“you’re seeing someone?”

you look up. your stomach sinks. dani’s standing there, arms crossed, trying too hard to sound casual.

lara stands, sensing the tension and quietly backing away.

you nod. “yeah.” dani doesn’t say anything, just stares.

“what’s her name again?” she asks, tone sharp. “mia.” “right.” she scoffs. “that was fast.”

your jaw tightens. “it’s been three months, dani.”

“so what, you’re just over it now?” you blink. a bitter laugh leaves your chest. “over what?” she doesn’t answer. “over you pretending i didn’t exist? or you only wanting me when no one else was watching?” daniela’s face hardens. “you know why it had to be that way.”

“no,” you say, louder now. “i don’t.”

she steps closer, arms falling to her sides. “i had to protect myself. my image. if i say something, if we confirm anything, it turns into a headline, a scandal. not a relationship.”

you shake your head, voice shaking. “you didn’t have to protect yourself. you just had to keep me hidden.” her eyes flash. “that’s not fair-” “you’re right, it’s not.” she swallows hard. “you think i don’t care about you?” you laugh, dry and tired. “you care about the version of me that lives in secret. you care about me in hotel rooms and locked bathrooms and 2 a.m. phone calls. but you don’t care about me when people are watching. you never have.”

“that’s not true.” “then why-” your voice breaks, and you try again, quieter. “why did you let me sit there on that livestream while you called yourself straight? while everyone watched and knew and you still couldn’t even look at me?”

she looks like she might cry. but you’re already past the place where that changes anything. “i was scared,” she says, barely above a whisper. “i didn’t know what would happen if i said it.”

“i know what happened when you didn’t.” your voice cracks. “i sat there like a ghost. like i didn’t matter. like i wasn’t the one you’d been crawling into bed with for months. like none of it was real.”

she’s shaking her head now. “it was real.”

“then why couldn’t you say it?”

“because i’m not you,” she snaps suddenly. “i don’t know how to be that brave.”

and that, that’s what does it. you go still.

you look her dead in the eyes and say, “i wasn’t brave, daniela. i was in love. there’s a difference.”

her breath catches. her lips part and she says nothing.

you stare at her for a long moment, and then, quietly, “i needed someone who wouldn’t hide me.”

you turn, walking away slowly, not out of drama but out of the weight of finally putting something down.

and her voice follows you, cracking in the silence. “is this really it?” you stop at the door.

“you made it ‘it’ the second you cared more about being seen as straight than being seen with me.”

and this time, you don’t wait for her to follow. you don’t want her to.

because loving someone isn’t supposed to feel like disappearing.

and you’re done being invisible.

a/n: uhhhh ty so much for all the support since i posted “miss possessive” and especially since i posted “you get me so high” i didn’t expect this much attention, i was just writing for funsies 😭😭😭 i will let this marinate a litttttle before posting the alternative pt2

[flwrstqr]

` ✶ : ENHYPEN AS BAD BOYS ╰—— 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⠀⦂ bad boy!enhypen x f!r 17OOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, slightly suggestive ｡｡ ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : bad boy enhypen is my whole life TT

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

heeseung leans against the hood of his car, arms crossed, but his eyes soften the moment you walk up. “you’re late, baby,” he teases, tugging you closer by the hem of your jacket. rolling your eyes, you mumble, “blame the traffic.” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “always got an excuse, huh?” but his words lose their edge when he pulls you into his arms, tucking you against his chest. “what would you do without me?” you say, poking his side. he leans down, his lips ghosting over your temple. “don’t even wanna think about it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss there. you can’t help but laugh, your cheeks warm as he adds, “c’mon, pretty girl, let me spoil you tonight.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

jay’s leather jacket hangs loosely on your shoulders as you sit on the back of his bike, his hands casually resting on your waist while he leans in close. “you know you look good in my jacket, right?” he smirks, his voice low and teasing. you roll your eyes. “maybe i just look good in general,” you counter, poking his chest. he laughs, the sound rich and genuine, as he leans even closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “can’t argue with that, baby,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing small circles on your side. his eyes soften as he adds, “you’re my favorite kind of trouble, you know that?” you can’t help but smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, his grin widening as he pulls you impossibly closer.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

"psst, babe," jake whispers, his voice barely audible as he perches on your windowsill, a smug grin plastered across his face. you roll your eyes. "jake, what are you doing here? it’s midnight!" you hiss, but your heart flutters at the sight of his tousled hair and that stupid leather jacket he insists on wearing everywhere. "couldn’t sleep without seeing my girl," he teases, slipping into your room. "besides, thought you might miss me." you shove his shoulder lightly as he plops down on your bed. "you’re crazy," you mutter, but you don’t stop him when he tugs you into his lap, his arms circling your waist. "yeah, but i’m you love it," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. you roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. "you’re lucky you’re cute."

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

"babe, you really gonna ignore me all night?" sunghoon’s voice cuts through the bass-heavy music, his lips brushing your ear as he leans in close. you turn to him, raising a brow, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "i wasn’t ignoring you," you tease, crossing your arms. "you’re the one flirting with every person in the room." his smirk widens, the mischievous glint in his eyes making your heart race. "jealous much?" he drawls, slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer despite the crowd. "hardly," you shoot back, but your pulse betrays you when his fingers trace lazy circles on your hip. "admit it," he murmurs, "you just wanted my attention." you roll your eyes but tug him down by the collar anyway. "fine. now shut up and dance with me," you say

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

"you call this fun?" you laugh, clutching sunoo's arm as the two of you balance precariously on the edge of the skate ramp. he flashes you a grin, eyes sparkling under the streetlights. "what? scared, princess?" he teases, tightening his grip on your hand. "it’s just a little slope." you glare at him, heart racing—not from the height, but from the way his thumb brushes over yours. "if i fall, i’m blaming you," you huff, earning a dramatic gasp. "as if i’d let that happen," he retorts, tugging you closer. "trust me, i’ve got you." with that, he steps forward, pulling you along, and your squeal is drowned out by his laugh. the wind rushes past as you glide down, and when you finally stop, he’s already looking at you with that cocky smile. "see? told you i’d keep you safe," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "you’re impossible," you mumble, but lean into him anyway.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

"you’re so clingy today," jungwon teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans back against the couch, letting you rest your head on his chest. his leather jacket still smells faintly of his cologne. you scoff, poking his side, "says the guy who wouldn’t let me leave this morning." he laughs, low and warm, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. "can’t help it, baby," he murmurs, his voice dropping just enough to make your cheeks heat up, "you’re kinda addictive." you roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. "yeah, well, you’re lucky i like you," you quip, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his shirt. he tilts his head to look at you, eyes softening. "like me? nah, you love me." his confidence earns a groan from you, but you don’t pull away.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

"stop squirming, riki," you huff, gently dabbing at the cut on his cheek with a tissue, the faint streetlight casting a glow over his bruised face. he smirks, even with a busted lip. "can’t help it, baby, you’re all up in my space like this." you roll your eyes, ignoring the way his nickname for you sends a flutter through your chest. "i’m fixing you up because you decided to throw punches for no reason." he tilts his head, feigning innocence. "no reason? the guy called you hot like i wasn’t standing right there. had to remind him who you belong to." your cheeks heat up at his bluntness, but you press your lips to the cut on his cheek as a distraction. "idiot," you mumble against his skin. he grins wider. "yeah, but i’m your idiot." you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "yeah, unfortunately."

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

“And it’s an emergency?” Bruce asked her, brow furrowing in concern.

Dani tapped her foot. “Yes. I need to leave now.”

Bruce sighed. “I’ll contact our pilot, but I can’t guarantee that he be able to fly you to Illinois last minute.”

Dani smiled weakly, “Thanks Bruce.” She said as she walked out the door, running into Damian.

“Where are you going?” He demanded, Jerry the Turkey trailing behind him.

“There’s a family emergency I need to go to.” Dani explained, ruffling his hair, grinning when he squwaked and hit her hand away.

“When will you return?”

Dani hesitated, smiling fading, before she looked in Damian’s eye and forced a grin.

“That depends. But I’ll be back, you don’t need to worry.”

The study door opened, and Bruce poked his head out, phone in hand. “Dani, the plane will be ready right after dinner at the soonest. Where exactly are you going?”

“Amity Park, Illinois.”

~

Danielle’s ‘minor family emergency’ was a huge lie.

Damian saw her smile dim and her hands shake as she told him she would be back.

Danielle was in danger, he didn’t need Leauge training to be able to tell.

That dinner, Danielle’s suitcase and bag was right next to her chair as she ate, looking very distracted.

“Woah!” Duke yelped as he tripped over the bag, stabilizing himself on the wall. “What’s the bag for?”

“Sorry, I’m going to Illinois after dinner. Family emergency.” Dani sheepishly, kicked the bag under the table and out of the way, smiling apologetically at Duke.

“Family emergency? But I thought…” Duke trailed off awkwardly. He didn’t need to finish his sentence for everyone to know what he trying to say.

Dani shrugged but didn’t give them an answer.

Duke, Damian’s nd Bruce locked eyes with each other and shared a minuscule nod. They would be investigating in the cave that night.

“Ok, I’m heading out!” Dani said, giving each of them a hug that lasted longer than usual, as if she was leaving for the last time.

~

Dani’s flight was around 2 hours, and the only sound that was in The luxury cabin was the sound of her foot tapping.

She apologized to the pilot for the last minute notice, but he waved her off with a smile. Dani tipped him a couple hundred anyway.

The airfield was pretty far, so Dani called an ride to pick her up.

While she waited, she checked Danny’s message from this morning.

Prototype: Dani we need you in Amity

Protoype: The GIW are acting funny

“Tt. When is the car arriving?”

Dani froze, whipping her head around to see Damian holding a duffel bag and staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh-what? Damian?” Dani stammered in surprise, before she got angry. “Damian Thomas Wayne, why and how the hell are you here?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I snuck on the plane and followed you, of course.”

Dani’s eye twitched and Damian got the feeling that this was a bad idea.

There was a long silence before Dani dragged him to the wall and whispered to him, “Damian, I have a reason for you guys not to come. A good reason. So you need to get a plane back to Gotham before it’s too late.”

Damian shook his head. “The pilots gone. And it is too late to catch another flight.”

Dani groaned, but was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her pocket.

She pulled it out and cursed as she read the message.

Dr.Jazz: Dani the GIW is closing down airports

Dr.Jazz: Nobody can get out or in

Dr.Jazz: are you here yet?

Fenton 2.0: I’m here

Fenton 2.0: with an unexpected guest

Her phone binged again, and she snapped her fingers to get Damian’s attention away from his phone- which he had pulled out when Jazz messaged her.

“Our ride is here.” She said curtly, picking up her bags and walking outside the terminal.

Dash Baxter was leaning against his car, searching the crowd. He caught sight of Dani and Damian, giving the younger girl a nod and the tween a raised eyebrow.

“You guys are lucky you got here when you did. The guys in white just closed everything down.” Dash said as he loaded their luggage into the back of his car.

Dani opened the backseat door and let Damian climb in before sitting down after him.

“What’s going on, Dash? Danny hasn’t been replying to my messages and Jazz is being extremely vague.”

Dash started the car and pulled into the freeway.

“Can’t go into detail. Too many cameras. We’re probably being followed.” Dash looked at Damon through the rewrite mirror. “Whos the tyke?”

“Damian. Damian Wayne.” Damian said as he wrinkled his nose.

“Dash Baxter. How’d you get caught up with the Waynes, Dani?”

“Bruce is fostering me. We just haven’t made an official announcement yet.”

Dash let out a whistle. “Nice. I won’t be able to drop you at the FentonWorks Lab, but Star and Paulina wanted to talk to you out anyway.”

Dash pulled into the park, and helped Dani and Damian with their bags before driving off.

There were GIW agents setting up cameras all around the park, in trees, lamp post, and they were even shoving warrants in the faces of home owners and setting cameras on their property.

Around 2/3 of the town was in the park, watching the GIW and talking in hushed tones. They all turned to stare at Dani and Damian as they walked through.

“Why are they stareing at you?” Damian asked, glaring at a boy his age, who squeaked and sprinted away.

“Because my family is rather well known.” Dani glanced at Damian. “And I have a Wayne with me.”

“Dani.”

They turned around to see two girls, one Latina dressed in pink and one blonde with large blue eyes.

“Paulina. Star. How’ve you been?” Dani smiled at them.

Star smiled at her, but it wasn’t real and plastic looking.

“I’m doing great. A little ghosty told me that the Fentons are waiting for you and Damian at the FentonWorks Lab.” Star eyed Damian with a curious eye and peered at Dani through her lashes.

“Don’t you think it’ll be to dangerous for the kid?” Paulina asked, ignoring the way Damian bristled at being called a kid.

Dani’s eye sharperned as she places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “We have no choice. The GIW closed down the airport. He’ll have to learn how to survive.”

The girls faltered.

“W-what? But my dad is in New York! He..” Paulina stammered, and Star was at her side in a second, comforting her.

Dani and Damian walked away, Danis hand still on his shoulder.

They walked for some time in silence, until Dani stopped them and pointed at a GIW agent.

“Wanna help?” At Damian’s nod she smirked and continued. “Let’s put your training to good use. What do you think they’re doing?”

“You knew?” Damian asked her.

“You guys aren’t the only vigilantes in my family.”

Damian nodded and turned away from her, observing the agents in white.

“They’re setting up cameras. And cold sensors.”

Dani’s lips twisted into a small smile. “The GIW are officially called the Ghost Investigation Ward, but we call them the Guys in White.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were other ghosts.”

Dani’s eyes flashed green as she grinned.

“Well, Damian, you have a lot to learn. But yes, there are other ghosts.”

Damain nodeded and glanced back toward the Agents.

“Tt. If they investigate ghosts, why are they barricading the town?”

Dani’s face darkened and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Damian, there’s a lot I don’t know. But I can tell you this:”

She whispered her next few words.

“It’s about to go from bad to worse. Brace yourself.”

[eye4katz]

She likes a boy, and I'm not a boy || Daniela Avanzini

Pairings: D. A. x KATSEYE 7th Member Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and slight angst

Content Warning: light cursing, mixed signals 🥶, unrequited (?), indenial!reader, possible slowburn

Synopsis: Being in a global pop group was already a dream come true, but getting close to someone you once admired from afar was the last thing you expected. All moments with her feels warm and platonic, until a member's teasing lead to a realization that Cupid already pierced your heart long ago. Does it hurt because you're falling for her? Or because you know that you're not a man?

part 2

It has been a year since Y/N joined Dream Academy and became a part of KATSEYE.

While she was a trainee and was a contestant on the show, she immediately caught Daniela Avanzini's presence. The girl was often quiet around Dani, too shy to blurt out words towards her.

Soon after the final line-up was announced, Dani and Y/N got surprisingly close with each other. Daniela would hug her from behind, kiss her cheeks every time she had a chance, and—of course—shower her with compliments.

Daniela can't sleep without cuddling her plushies, and that's a fact. So, Y/N just became her own human plushie.

Y/N, being Y/N, didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, she just reciprocates all the actions Dani did.

They would cuddle at night and let out a soft sigh in their sleep, contented at each other's presence. Or, if they can't make their way to dreamland, they would just stay up late to talk about random experiences—still while cuddling.

Y/N thought it was a normal thing that friends would do, not until Manon's gaydar made her think twice.

"You two seem like a couple," Manon whispered to Y/N as they took a couple of minutes' break from their choreo practice.

"The heck?" Y/N's head turned toward the older woman. Confusion was painted on her face.

Manon laughed slightly at the expected reaction. "Oh, you know. You've been staring at her like you two are already married."

"E-eh?! I'm not staring at Dani!" Y/N exclaimed quietly.

"I did not say a name~"

"But you're implying it!!"

Manon couldn't help but laugh at Y/N again, amused at her flushed face just from her teasing. "You can't fool me. It's obvious that you like her."

The other woman groaned. "Oh please, even if I like her, she's straight. Lara literally helps Dani compose break-up texts, and guess what? None of those messages went to a girl!"

She couldn't help but sigh. "She's straight, you know."

"No, I don't know that. We don't know that! She hasn't even confirmed or said she was straight!"

The younger member couldn't help but groan again. "She literally uses the 'Tears of Joy' emoji (😂) as an indication of something funny instead of the crying one! No sapphic—or any wuhluhwuh person would use that!

"Okay. Well, if she's straight, so is spaghetti—"

The Swiss woman got interrupted by her member, knowing the golden quote people used to flirt with straight gals. "Oh, please! Keep it PG!"

Manon couldn't help but laugh. She then turned serious and a little soft minutes after.

"Why not take a risk? In the end, we only regret the chances we didn't take."

Y/N just shrugged. "It's not like I have a crush on her to even take this invisible chance."

"Denial is a river in Egypt!" were the words from the older woman, making Y/N glare at her.

Manon just sighed, turning serious again, not wanting to put pressure on the younger member. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

"But if something happens, I'm always here for you," she added as she gave the younger one a good squeeze on her shoulder. This made Y/N's heart lighter.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A week later, four of the girls: Manon, Dani, Y/N, and Lara were in the middle of their livestream. A bunch of banter, teasing, and laughter could be heard inside Danon’s room.

Lara and Manon were lying on their stomachs as they watched the comments fly across the screen, sandwiching Y/N, who was also in the same position as them.

Dani was trying to get herself into the camera frame, grunting as she shifted on top of Y/N’s back and sat there.

Lara noticed this and laughed softly. “Omg, Y/N’s back is so strong.”

Manon looked at the two, smirking teasingly, which is something Y/N immediately caught.

“Am not.” Y/N just shrugged off Lara’s statement.

“She’s used to being under Dani every night. That's a no wonder,” the Swiss woman rebutted.

The other three gasped before scolding her.

“You’re gonna make me have a scandal, Manon!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I’m straight, guys, chill!” The Latina laughed a little too loudly for Y/N’s liking.

The room went slightly silent. Manon, being the eldest and the one who was aware of her member’s feelings, noticed Y/N’s change in energy. She took the initiative to break the uncomfortable tension.

“Congrats, Dani! Congrats on coming out straight!” she said. Lara also joined the teasing, making Daniela laugh.

Y/N didn’t want to look like it affected her. Thus, she went in on the joke with her members.

After about two hours, they finally ended their live.

“Dayum, my vocal cords feel like they’re gonna rip out every time I speak,” Manon said before letting out the most diabolical cough a human had ever heard.

Y/N then barked out laughing, still not over the chaos they caused during the livestream. “Babes, you kept bantering with Lara and the eyekons.”

“WELL, THEY KEPT SAYING I LOOK LIKE ELPHABA AND GLINDA’S LOVE CHILD!”

“BAE, IT’S A COMPLIMENT—”

Lara just watched the scene unfold before her eyes, laughing at the two women’s banter. She might literally develop abs just from laughing so hard at them.

Dani, sitting on the edge of the bed, was somehow lost in her phone. She grinned at the screen as she typed, perhaps constructing a message—until the words that came out of Y/N’s mouth made her look up.

“Nuh-uh! Lara and I aren’t gonna sleep over here anymore since you’re against us!” she exclaimed seriously. (It’s obvious they’re teasing each other, duh.)

“OH, SEE IF I CARE!” Manon replied, her tone just serious enough to mask the playfulness in her voice.

Dani looked at Y/N before muttering, “Are you being for real?” As if she were quietly yearning for Y/N’s time, affection, and maybe… her love.

Her eyes searched for something that would reassure her that Y/N was going to stay with her—with Manon and Lara, of course.

Y/N heard the Latina’s soft voice, making her stop mid-sentence, even though she still hadn’t fully recovered from the official declaration Dani made during the live.

She then looked at her favorite member, her voice mirroring the softness Dani had given her.

“No. Of course not, Dani.”

Dani sighed contentedly.

Was she relieved because the argument wasn’t serious?

Or because Y/N would be staying with her?

Well… that’s what Y/N wondered, too.

They stared at each other for a moment before Manon hit Y/N’s back with a pillow, noticing and breaking the two girls’ longing eye contact.

“Move, bitch. We’re gonna sleep,” Manon said playfully, her statement followed by Lara’s giggle.

“Old people really need their eight hours of rest, huh?” Dani joked at Manon, as if she hadn’t just shared a deep connection with Y/N—or what Y/N thought was deep.

Manon groaned. “Oh, you three are ganging up on me. I see.” Genuine laughter then filled the room.

The two girls climbed onto Dani’s bed and made themselves comfy, Lara and Manon also did lay on Manon's bed.

“Night, girls!” Lara chimed in.

The other three greeted each other good night in return.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The room would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the moonlight seeping through the curtains. It was quiet, except for the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional soft sighs of those already asleep.

While Manon and Lara slept comfortably on a single bed, Y/N felt like Dani's bed was a battlefield.

How could she possibly fall asleep when Dani’s arms were wrapped around her waist, the Latina’s nose nuzzled against her neck, and the curly-haired girl’s leg draped over her thighs?

It’s not like she wasn’t used to this after the times they went through, right? But she had become hyperaware of their closeness ever since Manon pointed out something she had never even considered. Thanks, Bannerman!

Y/N shifted into a couple of positions to find the most comfortable one, hoping not to wake the person beside her.

Well, to be fair, she wasn't even asleep.

"You fine there?" Dani suddenly whispered right when Y/N turned to lay on her side, facing away from Daniela.

Y/N's body jolted from the sudden voice. Her tongue got tied for a second, "A-ah- yeah, uh- I'm fine." She then turned around and lay on her back.

Dani took this chance to put her head on her member's chest. If the room wasn't too dark, Y/N's flustered cheek would be visible by now.

"Did I disturb you?"

"Nah, you're good. I just can't sleep."

"Mhm, me neither."

"..."

"..."

"You look pretty in tonight's livestream."

This made Y/N's throat tighten and go dry, as if it's her first time receiving compliments from Daniela all over again, even though it really never stops feeling like that.

"Thanks, Dani." She finally managed to reply.

Dani smiled lazily, drawing faint circles on her member's waist. "I might not show it all the time, but you're like my favorite friend in the world."

Shit, right. Friends! She likes a boy, and I'm not even a boy! We're just friends!

Y/N thought, bringing herself back to reality.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” she managed to say quietly.

As Daniela fell asleep on Y/N’s chest, she stared at the Latina’s face. The moonlight helped her see a few of Dani’s beauty marks—adoring and admiring how perfectly they were placed. Yet, Y/N couldn't help but let her mind wander off.

Why did it affect her so much that she and Dani were only friends?

Would things be different if Y/N were a man?

These were questions she shouldn’t be asking herself about a friend.

"In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take." Were the words from her best friend echoed in Y/N’s mind that night. She couldn’t deny the truth in them.

That’s when she realized... Manon was right. Y/N really did liked Daniela, loved her even.

The Swiss woman would definitely go off celebrating because she was right… and she’d probably got her ego boosted about all her intuition shits, too.

Y/N groaned internally, knowing how messy it would be to deal with feelings that were burning slowly, especially when they involved a friend slash a co-worker.

She hated not being able to predict the future. She hated not being sure of the consequences of her own feelings.

Y/N hoped that even if she's not a boy, she would still be Daniela's favorite, but not as a friend anymore.

The chances—well, they’re 50/50.

Would she take the risk and trust the odds?

Or would she keep carrying the weight of the baggages of her feelings?

[innorris]

More Than Just Old Friends / LN

The Quiet Before the Storm

Summary: Lando starts realizing his feelings for a longtime friend during a race weekend. A quiet moment between them hints at something more than friendship.

The paddock buzzed with the usual chaos of a race weekend—mechanics shouting over the whir of drills, media personnel chasing quotes, and fans lined up behind barricades hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers. But Lando Norris had tuned it all out. His gaze was fixed on someone else.

She was standing near the McLaren garage, talking to Carlos Sainz. Her presence wasn’t new—she had been around for years—but lately, something about the way she smiled or pushed her hair behind her ear made him see her differently.

Lando leaned against a metal railing, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t even sure what he was waiting for. An excuse to talk to her? A moment alone? He didn’t know.

“Are you going to stare at her all day or actually say something?” Dani Rics voice cut through his thoughts as he approached with his usual playful swagger.

Lando scoffed, pretending to look away. “I’m not staring.”

Daniel laughed. “Mate, you’re basically in a rom-com montage. All that’s missing is the music.”

“Shut up,” Lando muttered, but a smile crept onto his face anyway.

Daniel nudged him with his elbow. “You’ve known her forever. What’s stopping you?”

That was the thing. He had known her forever. Their friendship dated back to karting days—when helmets were too big for their heads and the only thing that mattered was who got to the finish line first. She was a constant. Someone who understood the madness of motorsport without ever needing it to define her.

Lando didn’t want to risk ruining that.

He was pulled from his thoughts when she turned and caught his eye. She smiled and waved.

God, that smile.

He waved back, pretending to be casual.

Later, after media obligations were done and the sun began to dip behind the garages, she found him sitting alone at the edge of the pit lane, legs hanging over the concrete ledge.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting soft,” she said, plopping down beside him.

He grinned. “Just enjoying the quiet before qualifying.”

She looked at him for a moment. “You always do this. Go quiet the night before a big race. What’s in that overthinking brain of yours this time?”

Lando shrugged. “Just… stuff.”

“‘Stuff,’” she repeated, amused. “That’s very specific.”

He turned to look at her, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “You know me. Man of mystery.”

She rolled her eyes. “More like man of sarcasm.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. The air between them wasn’t awkward—but there was a weight to it. Something unspoken. Something waiting to break through the surface.

Finally, she nudged him gently with her shoulder. “You remember that race in Valencia when you waved at me from the track and then nearly spun out?”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

She laughed. “You were so embarrassed.”

“I thought I was being smooth.”

“You were being an idiot.”

He grinned. “Maybe I was trying to impress you.”

She paused at that. Her smile faded just slightly, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Were you?”

Lando looked at her, seriously this time. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Her breath hitched ever so slightly—but then she smiled again, brushing it off with a smirk. “Well, if that was your best move, I’m not impressed.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Good thing I’ve got better ones now.”

She stood up, stretching, clearly ending the conversation—but not without throwing him a glance over her shoulder. “We’ll see about that, Norris.”

He watched her walk away, a smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe… just maybe, he wasn’t imagining it after all.

[jakexneytiri]

do you think jake’s ever gotten drunk off of na’vi alcohol and got obliterated to the point where neytiri’s taking care of him or is it just me

[kowupt]

referring to my last post i think these bunnies look like me the most :p (my bed looks like the last bunny on the far right!)

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ( 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 — 𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙤. )

   ⊹ ࣪ ˖ your professor contacts you to ask if you’d be willing to share your notes with a classmate that has requested a bit of help. you’re more than happy to help, until resident hockey star megan skeindiel is hitting you up every week, expectantly waiting for you to hand them over...

   ˎˊ˗  ❄️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: hockey player! megan skiendiel x english major!f!reader

   ➴ genre + wc: 10k, college au! one-sided enemies to friends, friends to lovers, dorky hockey jock megan, mostly fluff tbh

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: ditto - njz

┈─★ a/n: wigline was giving boyfriend in that livestream and i was trying to decide what sport before i was struck w the idea of megan and her beanie bros as wanna-be-frat-boy hockey stars. planning on making this part of a larger universe, goalie!lara and captain!dani coming next. enjoy!

eng121: intro to british literature. meets tuesday and thursday from 11:00 to 12:15. 

you’re always a few minutes early, an easy walk considering your world history lecture is just upstairs. you’ve always been punctual, thus why you’re first to class every time. it’s definitely not so you can get a front row seat in the lecture hall to make a good impression on your favorite professor teaching your favorite subject. 

the lecture hall starts to slowly trickle in. you don’t know anyone in this class, which is okay– you’re there to focus anyways, and given that your grade is an impeccable 98% by the end of week 5, you figure you’re doing something right. of course, minji and belle would say you’re doing way too much, every late night study session you pick instead of joining them for another party celebrating the hockey team–

your mind trails to thoughts of that damn women’s hockey team. they’re loud, they’re arrogant, and worst of all, they’re everywhere.

you hope they’re gone on an away game today. it’s so much easier to focus when they’re not there. 

but unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. the idiots come bursting in through the door. a curly haired blonde, a grinning brunette with red tips, and the tallest of the three, a button-nosed ginger. each wearing the team’s signature letterman jacket. you hate the sight of that damn letterman jacket.

they’re rough housing with each other, pushing and shoving, until eventually, one of them crashes into your desk, sending your bookbag and its contents flying. you feel your teeth grit together— any closer and it would have been your coffee all over your brand new laptop. 

“sorry, sorry,” the blonde screech-laughs, scrambling to catch herself before she tumbles. you spot the hickeys shamelessly scattered on her neck. you wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if she had showed up half drunk to class.

“bro, pick them up for her at least,” the red-haired one laughs.

“i got it,” you say through gritted teeth. you want to say as little as possible to these idiots.

but it’s the tall one who is kneeling down with you, scooping up your pens in her hands, offering them to you all while avoiding your gaze. “uh, sorry ‘bout that.”

“it’s fine.”

“cool miffy eraser.”

“thanks.”

is she expecting you to thank her? for picking up four pens and an eraser that her friend dropped?

your professor clears his throat once the teaching assistant arrives, signaling the start of class. the three stooges share a look between themselves before hurrying up the steps of the lecture hall, making their way up to a back row where you’re certain they’re planning to just good off and distract everyone for the rest of class.

you sigh as you return to your seat and focus on the words in front of you on your laptop. you hate hockey.

“hi y/n,” sophia, the delightfully nice upperclassman TA of your course approaches you as class ends. “got a minute?”

you nod, packing up your backpack. sophia has taught a few lessons in the course, her powerpoints engaging and meticulous, and you can’t help but admire how perfectly she navigates the content. talk about goals. 

“the university resource center reached out to us and said a student is requesting accommodations. a note-taker is all they’re asking for. that means we can find someone in class to assign to take notes for the student.”

“me?” your eyebrows arch as your realize what she’s asking.

“i’ve been grading your class’ discussion posts. you very clearly love british literature.” she smiles, and you feel your neck burn at the compliment. “it’s a decent pay, and you can just offer whatever notes you’re already taking. we just need to let the student know by friday. let me know?”

minji gives you the push you need when you get home to your dorm later that day and explain your situation to your roommates. 

“you’re already taking the notes. might as well get your bag,” she shrugs from her bed where she’s playing animal crossing.

belle nods in agreement. “plus, you love being helpful. our bleeding heart.”

you roll your eyes and shoot an email to sophia, receiving a smiley face as her reply just a few minutes later. 

-

you printed out your notes up to that point in the quarter to have them ready for thursday’s lecture. sophia said she’ll introduce the two of you at the end of class, all you have to do is hang back. you ruffle through your backpack once class ends, tucking your laptop away as the last of your classmates begin to trickle out the door.

your professor waves to you as he leaves, and you happily get up from your seat to approach sophia.

at least– until you’re cut off by someone clumsily stepping in front of you, in a flash of ginger hair.

your heart drops. no way in hell.

“hi.” she says simply, face unreadable. today, her and the three stooges kept showing tik toks to each other in the middle of lecture, at least three accidentally blasting at full volume. you want to tell her the hell off for always disrupting your favorite class, but sophia’s eyes are eagerly on you, and you want to impress your new mentor.

“hi,” you manage to get out behind gritted teeth.

this girl is way too overdressed for an 11am english lit course. white button up shirt, a messily knotted tie, dickies and that stupid letterman jacket with the leather sleeves. the beanie she usually sports is nowhere to be found, letting you get a better look at her features. 

not that you particularly care to look at her. she’s not even giving you the decency to look you in the eyes, instead, just fixing her glance at your hand and pointing.

“i need that,” she finally says after an awkward pause. she points again. “uh, those.”

“you?” you’re still in disbelief. you’re going to spend every thursday after class giving your beautiful, pristine notes to this entitled fuckboy jock?

“unless uh, if you’re not y/n y/ln, and those aren’t for me,” she adds, peeking down at her phone to confirm the details. 

“i typed today’s lecture.” you feel a scream bubbling in your chest, but you manage to suppress it. “let me send them to you. let me give you my email.”

“ah, cool.” she hands you her phone, already opened to her student email account. you glance at the cinamoroll phone case, when she finally catches you off guard, adding a quick “thank you.”

“no problem.” well, yes problem, but maybe it’s more of an ego thing. at least she finally said thank you.

“if you could send, uh, all of them. that’d be easier.” the athlete scratches awkwardly at the back of her head. you’re a bit irritated that you wasted all that paper trying to print them and be polite, but whatever. bleeding heart or whatever belle said, you figure you can’t exactly be choosy about your good deeds if you want the karma. 

“and we have an away game next week, so i’ll be missing class on tuesday. if you can email me then too…”

“got it.” when did you sign up to be a freaking personal assistant?

“thank you.” she dips her head down, lips pressing together into a fine line. “i’m megan.”

“bye megan,” you wave, before snatching up your backpack and getting the hell out of there.

-

you’re left in peace next week as the three stooges aren’t there on tuesday.

thursday rolls around, and megan is waiting for you in the hallway by the door again, leaning against the wall. you’re starting to feel extremely irritated by the whole situation. she didn’t even reply to your emails from last week or this week to say thank you for the notes you emailed. at the very least, she could let you know that she got them, right?

“you can just email them, all of them, in the future. save the paper,” she tells you as you hand her your annotated paper copy of that week’s powerpoint. you squint at her and walk off without a word.

-

the one good thing that comes out of this arrangement is that sophia invites you to get coffee with her after class, and your mentor becomes one of your favorite friends in the span of a week. 

“i didn’t know you got accommodations for being a jock that misses half a semester’s worth of class,” you say irritatedly as you pick your order up off the counter. 

sophia laughs. “i’m so sorry… they don’t tell me why they need the notes, just that they’re approved for them.”

“ugh, i’d kill for someone to give me all their notes,” minji, who tagged along, complains. “stupid hockey players get everything handed to them.”

“do you think that’s really it though? like they get free access to a notewriter because they miss so much class? and the university obviously wants to keep making money off of them,” you speculate. “holy shit. that’s so unfair.”

“i don’t know anything about how the student athlete system works,” sophia wrinkles her nose. 

you’ve already made up your mind. come this thursday, you’re putting your foot down.

-

thursday’s class comes. megan’s stupid blonde friend does actually spill your coffee this time. now, you’re not only pissed with megan, but pissed with everything that surrounds her. her friends leave the lecture hall with the taller girl trailing behind them, but you grab her by the sleeve to stop her. she’s dressed normally today: beanie, hoodie, sweats, and that stupid jacket on top of it all.

“y/n,” she greets, almost cheerfully. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me, the emails are fine-”

“i don’t think you deserve my notes any more,” you cut her off. you’re waiting for it, the entitlement, the meltdown, whatever it is that shitty people who take advantage of you do, but it never comes.

megan simply wrinkles her nose and shrugs, scratching awkwardly at her forehead.

“well, i’m dyslexic, so there’s that.”

“oh my god.” that’s why she got the accommodation approved. not because she’s a jock. you’re swept over by a wave of instant regret. you pray to god you’ll live this down. “i am so sorry.”

“your notes are also really, really helpful.” megan holds up the paper she had been hiding in her hand. a bright red 72 is circled on the quiz. 

“a C?”

“technically a C minus,” she corrects you playfully. “and it’s the best i’ve done on one of these stupid quizzes since the semester started.”

you feel your nose burn with embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”

“i’d be annoyed too if someone took advantage from all my hard work.” she offers a tilt of her head. “i promise i’ll be more grateful.”

“no, you don’t have to do that.” you’re still reeling from megan’s quiet confession. “i was being neurotic.”

“here, ah, put your number in,” she hands you her silly cinnamoroll phone case. “i’ll send you a QR code, you can scan it for free drinks at the cafe. student athlete discount.”

“i’m sorry again,” you grimace. 

she shakes her head. the smile playing on her lips stirs something in the pit of your stomach.

“it’s no worries. i’ll see you next week.”

-

two weeks after your whole expose on megan, you two have fallen into a cordial rhythm of nodding to each other at the end of every class. you appreciate that she acknowledges you now.

however, this does not diminish your burning hatred for the hockey team as a whole. 

you’re in the middle of impressing your professor, explaining the contrast between romanticism and modern cynicism, bringing in points you had connected from your intro to philosophy class. 

but it’s hard to finish the thoughts when the three stooges are causing a ruckus from their corner of the room. you see lara smack dani in the shoulder, the two struggling to catch their breaths in between silent laughs. megan, stuck in the middle of them, looks clearly distressed. 

your eyes meet, and you swear there’s something apologetic in the way she looks at you. 

your professor is equally as unpleased as you are, glaring at the trio as you finish your thoughts. 

“miss skiendiel? any thoughts?”

you can’t help but feel bad. if anything, megan was the least guilty of the three. it was the other two that were giggling like little stupid frat boys. 

“uh yeah,” megan leans back in her chair, clearing her throat. she’s quiet for a few moments before she simply shrugs and scratches at her nose. “ditto, y/ln.”

dani bursts out into laugher and a few other snickers are heard throughout the lecture hall. you grit your teeth. is she too cool to care? you had started to let yourself think that maybe she was more than a mindless jock just coasting through classes so she could focus on playing. but every chance she gets, megan just feeds the fire. 

she tries to nod at you after class, but you’re not having it. it surprises you when she steps into your way, ducking her head down to meet your gaze. you curse silently at how much taller she is than you.

“hey,” she chirps. 

“what do you want?” 

“i’m sorry about them. they’re—“ she pauses, processing your tone. “hold up, are you annoyed with me?” 

“i shouldn’t be?” you snap. 

“why would you? i was trying to tell them to shut up.”

“and then you opened your mouth, and it was like you couldn’t be bothered. you act like you’re above it all.”

she’s staring at you in disbelief, that stupid beanie obstructing her brows but you can see the confusion in her eyes. those big round puppy dog eyes widen. 

“that? y/n, you think my dumb ass is gonna be able to come up with something on the spot right after you just sounded so smart? much less in front of everyone?”

“you’re always so over it.”  you roll your eyes, reaching down to grab your backpack. “care at least a little.”

“y/n, listen to me.” megan holds her hand out to stop you and her voice drops, but it’s not threatening. it’s almost… shy?  “y/n, you scare the fucking shit out of me. that’s why i’m so quiet. i’m trying to think of what to say.”

you blink back in confusion. “i’m not scary.”

“you’re like a super genius.” the athlete gives you a pleading look. “my brain feels like i dropped it in the toilet and soaked it in rice.”

you laugh at her comparison. she grins and you figure you can forgive her, at least this time. 

“that’s dramatic.”

“i’m hopeless. your notes are the only thing keeping me holding on.”

you feel an ache in your chest. megan isn’t all that bad— just a girl desperate to make progress even if she’s sinking. 

“are you busy tonight? i can come help you study,” you offer, and you can already hear belle clowning you for your charity work. 

her grin widens, exposing the whites of her extremely nice teeth. you feel yourself soften, even if just for a moment.

“you’d be saving my life. i’ll text you my dorm after practice.”

“don’t stand me up,” you warn. you wonder if it went to your head, hearing megan admit you intimidate her.

but then her lips curl into a playful smile, nodding as she strides backwards out of the classroom. “yeah, ditto, y/n. i better see you then.”

you’re in her building as soon as she texts you that she’s out just a few hours later. you double check the number on the door and feel your heart pound as her neighbor walks out, eyeing you up and down before heading down the hall. ugh, you pray you don’t look desperate.

“megan?” you call out, knocking on the door. the door gives way, clearly not locked or even closed all the way, and you immediately spot the flash of bright orange hair. she’s hunched over in front of her bed, eyes fixed on the laptop with a set of headphones covering her ears. her hair is in two braids falling over her shoulders.

“y/n! sorry, these things are noise cancelling,” she apologizes, motioning for you to come join her. you step in, and she tries to turn the laptop away from you, which you flag as suspicious. “i got started without you.”

you lean over a little further and roll your eyes as you see what’s actually pulled up. it’s a hockey game. 

“so much for studying time, skiendiel.”

“no, no,” she says hurriedly, pulling the headphones completely off her head.  “i’m listening to your notes. look.”

she pulls up her phone and true to her word, she’s using speech to text to read the document out through her headphones. 

your heart breaks at her brows furrowing together, those dark eyes pleading up at you. she’s just a fucking puppy. 

“it’s the only way i can focus. i have to watch my games back to relax. i already did my workouts, ate, packed for tomorrow. it’s the only way i can fit everything in and not go crazy.”

“i can read them to you,” you offer.

“i can read,” megan wrinkles her nose. “i just waste more energy trying to figure it out than actually retaining anything.”

“i can read, and explain it to you,” you modify your initial suggestion, before you even realize what you’re doing. why are you so eager to help this girl? a month ago you were complete strangers, and she was the bane of your existence.

but there she is, the jock you hoped would never show up to class again, looking up at you with the most round brown eyes that keep rustling something in you. is it pity?

“you must think i’m so fucking stupid,” she grimaces, shaking her head. 

“i think you’re willing to work hard,” you tell her gently. “that counts for a lot in my book, actually.”

she says nothing, flipping open her copy of the class textbook. but the look she gives you, warm and full of gratitude, says everything.

you two spend the next hour, criss crossed on her floor, papers and books strewn around you. your review is going better than you anticipated: she’s quiet, focused, and attentive to all the comparisons you draw.

“i hate this fuckass romantic period,” megan hisses as you finish your next reading of a lord byron piece. you noticed her brows furrowing halfway through as she tries to keep up. “so much poetry bullshit.”

“you’re good at poetry. it’s all metaphors for big feelings,” you encourage her, before a memory that comes to mind helps carry your point across. “the thing you said about your brain the other day was an amazing metaphor.”

“that? my brainrot? i speak like that ‘cause i can’t figure out how to say what i really want.”

you realize what it is, your question from earlier. it isn’t pity. megan is just a nervous, hard-on-herself girl, stuck in the expectations of others, a victim even to your unfair judgement. literature has always come easily to you– you can’t imagine how hard it must be for someone to be trying to navigate that at a disadvantage and still give it their all. 

you put a finger on it. it’s not pity. it’s admiration. 

“it paints a picture, perfectly,” you tell her, pushing back against what you realize is her constant cloud of self-doubt. she shakes her head, but the smile is there, telling you you’ve broken through to her. you press on, preparing the next passage to read out loud. “just imagine these old white dudes are trying to do the same.”

you don’t finish up until 10pm, when her roommate enters and seems genuinely surprised to see you both.

“hi marsh,” she greets.

“ah, i was wondering why our neighbor warned me that you had a girl over,” the accented girl greets, grinning cheekily. “they couldn’t possibly imagine you’d just be studying.”

you see megan’s face burn red. you laugh to cover up the flash of heat that takes to your neck from the speculation. 

“they’re conspiring against me ‘cause i’m really not like that,” megan groans, standing up hurriedly. “you’re gonna make my tutor think i’m a piece of shit.”

“don’t let her fool you,” the brunette smiles warmly, pointing at megan. “heart of gold, this one.”

“ah okay, now that’s too much.” megan tries to bury her face in her shoulder awkwardly, handing you your shoes. “let me walk you out.”

belle texts you to remind you that she’s outside the dorm to pick up dinner with you, like you had agreed. megan walks you down, waving awkwardly to your roommate before turning to you with that same awkward wave. 

“uh, bye. thank you again. made a lot of sense when you broke it down.”

“i’m happy to come by again soon, if it made a difference,” you smile.

“only if you were already planning to study by yourself. don’t go out of your way for me,” she tells you forcefully.

“i’m happy to,” you reassure her. “good night megan.”

maybe you catch her off guard by saying her name, but the way her eyes widen makes you laugh. there’s something charming about her undeniable awkwardness. she waves again, and watches carefully from the building doors as you stride up to belle, waiting for you on a nearby bench.

“that’s your charity project?” she questions, “your horrible hockey jock?”

“i might’ve been quick to judge,” you admit, looking over your shoulder. megan is still there, leaning against the doorframe, watching you guys walk off. “she’s not all bad.”

“not all bad? you made her seem irredeemable,” belle laughs, looping her arm in yours. 

her only crime is liking hockey and being awkward. you sigh, and belle changes the subject, but you’re stuck thinking about it for the rest of the night. megan deserves a chance to show you who she is before you decide it for her.

-

and she does exactly that. megan, once she feels more comfortable, turns out to be a complete goofball. you’re laughing so hard at her stupid jokes one study session that you cough up red bull out of your nose and megan nearly passes out laughing with you. megan exposes that despite the hockey player stereotype, she is completely harmless. you watch her awkwardly let people cut her in line, or sip a drink made incorrectly when you get coffee together, all because she’s too nervous to speak up. megan is a mama’s girl and has nightly calls with her mom, sometimes interrupting your sessions, but she’s quick to mumble an ‘i love you too, mom,’ when she thinks you can’t hear her. and you learn that  megan, more than anything, loves hockey.

megan is also insanely humble, and is used to hard work. you start to realize just how much the athlete has on her plate.

you guys are leaving class one day, trying to decide when your next study session should be, when she explains what a normal day looks like for her. conditioning, nutrition, physical therapy for an old back strain, at least a half hour every night of reviewing her game tapes to see how she could have played better. and that’s not even including the hour-and-a-half practices she attends every day. and in megan’s case, you realized, she shows up an hour early to get a head start. that’s not even to mention the travel time involved with away games.

no wonder she only hangs around those stupid jock friends of hers. with the exception of her roommate, it doesn’t seem like she’d have much time to make friends outside of that. 

you’ll admit, however, that lara and daniela are slowly growing on you. dani lives in your dorm building, and lara is the only one with a car on campus, so megan will sometimes end up inviting them to come and study with you guys. lara, confident and forward, is extremely friendly and makes you feel at ease once you stop seeing her as some frat boy wanna-be. dani, a self-proclaimed attention whore that you discover also is extremely emotional, has a laugh so infectious it’s easy to see why her and lara are usually distracted in class.

and then megan, tagging along like their dorky little sibling, constantly begging them to stop drawing attention to themselves. you start to read her face, noticing when she’s dying of embarrassment from something they do.

you start to really know megan, and she lets herself be known, an open and honest response for every question you ask as your friendship deepens over the weeks.

“why do you come to class so dressed up sometimes?” you ask one night, trying to figure out how to help her pre-loop up her tie for the next day. you’re sick of seeing that crooked knot on her neck and offered to teach yourself on youtube to help her out.

“you’re supposed to dress formal on game days.” she explains. “like, to respect the sport or whatever.”

“i see,” you hum, trying to focus on remembering where the next loop goes through. you realize on the days megan is dressed up, you see a ton of people wearing their fan merch. you finally connect the dots. “i didn’t realize this many people liked hockey.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a giant nerd and don’t pay attention to sports. hockey is our biggest sport here.” megan teases. “half of our graduates go pro.”

“oh,” you blink. you’re becoming painfully aware of how close you two are, your fingers sliding behind her neck to tuck the tie behind her collar. “you must like the attention.”

“no. i like the game.” megan’s still awkward, but as your friendship has grown, she’s gotten better at correcting your incorrect assumptions. “the attention makes me lose focus.”

“do you wanna go pro?” you ask.

“yes,” megan says, and it’s quiet like a confession. 

“i think you can do it.” you say it so confidently, but megan lets out a deep breath that tells you she’s doubted this. you hope she takes your faith in her to heart.

“i would say you should come see a game, but you wouldn’t know the difference if i played great or got my ass beat out there,” she laughs. 

“i think you’re the hardest working person i know. you’ll make anything happen.”

“that’s really nice, y/n.” she watches as your fingers finish the final loop, pulling the knot into her collar snugly. “you’ve always been so down to believe in me.”

“promise you won’t forget about me when you make it big?” you grin teasingly. you smooth out her collar around her tie before feeling your neck burn at the proximity between you two. and yet, you don’t find yourself rushing to move away.

megan’s eyes draw to you with something in them, something gentle and different than before. 

“of course,” she smiles, but there’s something more. you’re not brave enough to ask her about it. 

-

your phone buzzes you awake. you don’t bother to reach for your glasses, simply seeing 1:29am is enough to irritate you. but then you see the contact photo, a goofy candid of megan with her beanie pulled down over her eyes, and you figure you can’t be that mad.

you slip into the hallway to not wake belle and minji before picking up.

“hi.”

“y/n?” her voice is raspy and so, so sweet. you wonder if she’s just as tired as you are. “what’s up, what do you need?”

“you called me, dumbass.” you laugh. “in the middle of the night, i might add.”

“oh shit, right right,” she says cooly. 

you laugh again. megan’s humor is so, so stupid, and you have no clue how she can manage to make you laugh every single time.

“how’s the hotel?” you ask. it’s an away game against washington state.

“too stuffy, and we have a red-eye in like three hours.” she sighs. “daniela just got back from partying and woke me up.”

“at least she didn’t bring anyone back to the room this time,” you say.

“god, please do not remind me of that, y/n,” megan pleads, and you can picture the way she’d give you that panicked glare at the memory. you laugh at the way she told the story when it had first happened– rooming with dani for a game against oregon when the blonde made megan sleep in the bathroom so she could hook up with a sorority girl. megan described being traumatized by what she could hear through the door, and you nearly died of laughter.

“try to sleep. red-eyes can be brutal.”

“i’ll nap when i’m back home,” she reassures you. you’re already planning out what you’ll bring her for lunch as a celebration. you didn’t know much, but you knew that these semi-finals were no joke. 

(you don’t mention minji clowning you for tracking the score of the game, and sophia giving you a questioning look when you screamed in the middle of the dining hall once megan’s team had won.)

“i’m literally whispering and dani says i’m making too much noise. i’ll kill her,” megan adds, and you can practically hear the eye-roll.

“you’re not killing anybody, you big dork,” you laugh. “you should go to sleep.”

“fine fine, bye hater.”

“good night, megan.”

“good night, y/n.” 

you attempt to pay no mind to the flutter in your chest as you make your way back into your dorm, diving into your bed. before you close your eyes, a text from megan makes that flutter even harder to ignore.

wanted to hear your voice

yeah?

i get homesick on the road :/

aw you poor baby

thanks for picking up

sure jsyk u can call whenever, you big baby

ditto

-

“what are you doing tomorrow?” she asks you, after a session in your room where you’ve finished drilling the different dates of publications into her head with a stupid memorization song. 

“i don’t have any plans besides–”

“besides reading books by boring dead dudes,” megan gripes. “some of the older girls are having a party to celebrate making it to the championships. you should come. you can bring your roommates. the house is so close, it’s like a 20 minute walk from the dorms.”

“i’ll think about it,” you smile.

“think about what?” belle’s voice rings out as she enters the room at the perfect time. 

“just a small house party. i’ve never seen you out before, y/n,” megan says.

“y/n’s a homebody, but i’ll get her there. send me the details?” belle grins. 

you groan as the two exchange numbers, seeming much too devious for your liking. but the night ends, the next day passes by, and you won’t give megan the satisfaction of letting her know how excited you are about this as your uber drops you and your roomies off far later in the night than you’d like to be awake. 

minji squints as the music pounds from the house, barely containing the people that you see through each window. the three of you let yourselves in, immediately met by familiar faces. 

“i thought you said small?” belle laughs as lara and daniela greet you with hugs.

“dani posted it to her public story instead of her private,” lara snorts. “half the university is here.”

“if my crime is to love being surrounded by beautiful women, fuckin’ arrest me,” dani defends herself, hands in the air. 

“y/n.” megan’s voice rings out from behind you. your heart thuds as she stands there smiling, like a puppy wagging its tail. “you made it.”

“take this with me!” dani grins, handing you a cup of god knows what. you haven’t had enough experience to know your tolerance, but you figure you can start with one and go from there. the blonde cheers as the drink disappears down your throat, megan giving you a concerned yet amused look.

“you’ll die if you try to keep up with her,” she laughs. “she’s fucking crazy.”

“thanks for the tip,” you smile back. you see the cup in her hand. “should i keep up with you instead?”

“it’s gatorade,” she grins sheepishly. “i’m play to win, and i don’t like to take risks the week of such a big game. i try not to even let myself get upset. gotta focus, y’know.”

“well let’s pour one out for baby megs,” lara toasts, pouring from a bottle into everyone’s cups. “and y/n, who saved our girl from academic probation!”

“alright lar, not too much now,” megan wrinkles her nose. 

you laugh, and her eyes meet yours, a smile behind their warmth. you’re surrounded by some of the most exciting people you’ve ever met, and yet all you want to do is find a quiet corner and talk to this dork. you feel your chest tense with a weight of something, but you shake your head before the thoughts can develop.

“gonna go get another drink,” you excuse yourself quickly. maybe you need something stronger, just for tonight.

you’re in the kitchen pouring yourself something random when the flash of ginger hair catches your attention from the other room. except, megan’s not alone, and there’s a girl standing a bit too close, touching something on megan’s forearm.

your mouth goes dry. you’d spent so long getting to know the side of megan the world doesn’t see, it hadn’t occurred to you that she could still have a bad side to her. is it even a bad side to be flirting with a cute girl at a college party? you swallow a lump in your throat and drink whatever you’ve put in your cup. of course she’s allowed to do what she wants, and that doesn’t make her a bad person.

you look up again, and megan leans down to whisper something in the girl’s ear. the girl laughs a little too hard, touching her arm again in the process. megan’s funny, but there’s no way she’s that funny, and plus, the only person who ever laughs that hard–

you pause. the only person that laughs that hard at her is you. 

the shots you took are catching up to you. you race outside to the front yard to try and get some fresh air, accidentally shoving into a guy who’s lingering by the door.

“woah, slow down there,” he snaps.

“please don’t talk to me,” you reply quickly, head still spinning

“don’t come to my house and be rude as shit,” he growls in response. “i’ll stop talking to you when i want to stop talking to you.”

you try to diffuse it by walking away, but he grabs you by the arm to make you look at him. you feel hot tears spring from your eyes. an angry frat boy is the last thing you can handle right now.

“no smartass comebacks? c’mon, push back you little bitch.”

before you can even do anything, she’s there, like a knight in shining armor, the outside of her forearm crushing against his windpipe as she shoves him into the wall. the movement comes easily to megan, no doubt her 15 years of aggression on the ice. her eyes are wide, darker than you’ve ever seen them before.

she barely registers him before those brown eyes come to you. you feel your breath catch in your chest with the way she looks at you.

megan drops him in an instant, instead coming to chase you down. 

“i couldn’t think of anything cool to say to scare him.” you realize she’s shaking, her voice quivering. she’s unnerved, but her presence is so so comforting, her rambles are somehow exactly what you need. “i wanted to say ‘i’ll fucking kill you’ and then ‘i’ll kick your ass’ but instead i almost said ‘i’ll fuck your ass.’”

you manage a snort through your tears. somehow, megan makes you laugh even through this.

“‘i’ll fuck your ass’ may have been scarier, actually,” you laugh, sniffling. 

“god, y/n.” her brows are knit together in concern. she looks up at the sidewalk, the dorm lights barely visible down the street. “can i make sure you get home okay?”

“it’s so late already, i can’t let you walk back alone.” you shake your head.

“i’m sure as hell not letting you walk alone.” she scoffs, before giving you a nod of reassurance. “dani lives in your building, i’ll sleep at her’s once i’m in the dorm, i have her keycode. please.”

somehow, despite it being god knows how late, you know nothing is going to happen as long as megan is there. she insists on giving you her jacket and as much as you push back, she ignores you and drapes the zip-up over your shoulders anyways. she chats your ear off about how excited she is for friday’s game and before you know it, you’re back in your room, wobbling on unsteady feet through the dorm, grateful your roommates are still partying it up.

“thank you, for everything,” you tell her, watching as you sit on your bed and she quietly unlaces your shoes. 

“i owe you a lot, that was nothing.” she shrugs, tossing your shoes into the corner. “if i’m good for anything, i’m good for shoulder checking weirdos.”

you laugh. “hopefully that’s the last time i’ll need your services.”

“you can need me forever,” megan tells you softly, smile on her lips. “i’m here.”

“i judged you so hard when i first met you,” you confess, falling backwards onto your bed. you blink, staring up at the ceiling.  “i was so wrong about you.”

“yeah?” she laughs, taking a seat next to you to help put your hair into a bun. 

“you’re such a sweetheart,” you sigh, sitting up. your hand brushes a tress of her hair out of her face. “biggest, most thoughtful dork i know.”

“i’m not dorky,” megan furrows her brow. you laugh as her nose scrunches up. 

“you were talking to someone, i’m sorry.” 

“she was talking to herself and calling it a conversation. i promise, as soon as i saw you walk out, i followed you asap.”

you feel yourself studying her, your heart pressing against your ribcage with something eager to come out.

“i bet you kiss so many girls.” the words spill out of you as the alcohol takes its toll. “how come you’ve never tried to kiss me?”

you see megan’s cheeks flush red, her gaze fixed on the tv as she pulls up a 10 hour dancing fruit video to leave on in the background. 

“i don’t kiss that many girls,” she defends herself softly. 

“you’re so special. megan the future superstar.” you groan, realizing how fleeting your friendship is. all you’ll probably be is a footnote in her life’s story. you furrow your brows. “i want a kiss from megan the future superstar.” 

as drunk as you are, you’re shocked when she seems to comply.

your breath hitches as she leans in. her lips press gently against your temple. 

“there.” she whispers, checking down at her phone. “minji and belle will be here soon, okay? good night, y/n.”

she pulls your blanket up over your shoulders and slips into the hallway. you’re too out of it to ask her to stay.

-

you wake up, and realize someone is in your bed.

you panic for a brief second before you realize that person is playing animal crossing on their switch, completely unbothered by you gaining consciousness. you’ve never been so grateful to see minji before, even if she is smothering you as you cram into the twin sized bed.

“she’s alive,” minji calls out from next to you. belle comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and pulls something out of the mini-fridge for you. a pedialyte in your favorite flavor and some pain relievers. 

“thank you,” you sigh to your roommates, feeling your head pound as you sit up and start to chug, swearing off college parties for the rest of your years.

“can’t take credit. your jock left them for you this morning,” belle informs you, a teasing grin.

“oh god, megan,” you wince, recalling your behavior from the night before. 

“she wouldn’t go away,” minji complains. “not until i texted her a picture of me in your bed so she knew i was there.”

“she does the same thing when i walk home with y/n from their study dates.” belle says.  “just watches us from the doorway until we can’t see her any more.”

“y/n adopted a stray,” minji teases.

“if you say some shit about a bleeding heart, i’ll throw up in your bed specifically,” you threaten belle, and your roommates laugh at you as you let out another groan. you figure skipping class for the first time all semester won’t kill you as you lay back down.

-

after skipping all your classes, you’re at a table in the dining hall, meal untouched, your focus instead on trying to draft a text to megan that even begins to fix the mess you left behind last night. you’ve been at the same table for at least an hour, trying to figure out how to even start.

“hey, y/ln.” you recognize the voice as dani’s, calling out from behind your booth. “can’t hang?”

“leave her alone, dani.” the voice makes you freeze in place. you didn’t even get a chance to send your text.

“we missed you last night for spin the bottle,” dani grins. “meg had to get it on with that cheerleader.”

despite all the work you did last night to remember megan’s allowed to do what she wants, your stomach drops at dani’s reveal. 

“yeah, okay, go away,” megan groans, shooing the blonde. dani complies, and megan sits so you’re alone in the booth together, side by side. she rests her head in her hand on the table. “so…”

“i’m really sorry about all i put you through last night,” you immediately start, feeling the regret press in your ribs.

“you don’t have to be,” she tells you softly, head shaking.

“no, i am.” you insist, realizing how stupid it was of you to think anything would ever come of this. megan doesn’t see you as anything but a tutor, a familiar face at best who she’ll leave behind as soon as she makes it big. “i got so caught up. in the game, the party, the celebration.”

“oh. um, yeah?” she asks quietly.

“you’re not a hockey star to me. you’re just megan.” you furrow your brows. “i’m sorry again for all that.”

you were hoping it would clear things up. but it’s like a cloud comes over megan, her gaze hard and more importantly, avoiding yours.

“no yeah, totally,” she wrinkles her nose, eyes clamping shut. you wonder what’s coming over her and panic that you’ve done something you can’t take back. you try to pivot away quickly.

“your game’s tonight, right?” you ask, but she’s already getting up from the table, gathering her bookbag in her hand.

“megan?” you check in.

“yeah, don’t worry about coming,” she tells you, shaking her head. “i know it’s not your thing.”

and before you can utter a single word more, she’s gone.

-

you take a couple of hours to try to do homework in the library, but you couldn’t possibly focus. not with megan’s final expression haunting you, the pained scrunch of her nose, her inability to bring herself to look at you. you have a tab open to a youtube livestream of the game that you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from.

“you look constipated,” minji says plainly as you get back to the dorm. 

“you are such a-” you stop yourself. you’re not angry at minji, you’re angry at yourself. no need to take out a civilian in the crossfire. you suck in a deep breath and try again. “minji, please be nice to me for once. i’m having a shit day.”

“cheer up.” she says so devoid of emotion, you wonder if she was dropped as a baby. but then she’s handing you a card, in handwriting familiar to you but definitely not minji’s own. “your puppy dog gave this to me when we got coffee.”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “you got coffee together? today? since when do you hang out?”

“when you were passed out this morning. and i said she was determined, not that i didn’t like her.” you’ll never understand how this girl’s brain works. “anyways, letter, for you.”

you want to ask so many more questions, but a lightbulb goes off as you try to think about the web of connections at this university. 

“and your friendship has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been admiring her roommate from afar with absolutely zero rizz to approach her with? are you trying to have her put in a good word?”

you would pay to watch minji’s demeanor crack like this again. 

“wah, shut up. you spread lies on my good name.” she shakes her head furiously, but nothing ever triggers minji, so you know you’ve hit a soft spot when she gets this worked up. “megan is…”

“the closest you’re ever going to get to danielle marsh,” you burst out laughing. 

“shut up and read your letter.”

you open the envelope and a ticket falls out. today’s date, 7pm, the championship game at your university ice arena. 

y/n. i wrote this by hand and took my time. thank you for everything this semester. i think meeting you was my favorite part of this year. i’m grateful you saw me, the way you really saw me. hope that makes sense. hanging out with you felt like being a book that someone finally took off the shelf and opened up. hope to see you at my big game. i saved you a seat by the box, so you can help me study in between plays.

 – megan

ps. just kidding about the studying thing, don’t you dare bring a book into my sacred space. anyways, thanks again.

“minji, i think i fucked up,” you breathe quietly. how unfair to keep judging megan when this whole time, she’s shown you exactly who she is. was it easier to say megan was this or that in order to soothe your own confused feelings? who did it ultimately hurt in the end? 

“what would belle say?” the girl asks. “go bleed your heart out or whatever.”

you don’t correct her. it’s honestly the perfect advice. 

you check your phone and see the game is at halftime, and they’re down 0-2. the stadium is on the other side of campus, but you remember megan’s words from the party. she doesn’t even try to let herself feel upset the week of a game, and there you are on the night of her team’s championship game, being the worst friend possible to her.

your heart races, then aches. you have to make this right, the sooner the better. you order an uber and pray this is the right call.

you race into the stadium and realize it’s absolutely packed with thousands of people, and thunderously loud. it looks like a professional stadium, even at the college level. the game is tied now, 2-2, but you remember enough of what megan’s told you to recognize that they’ve gone into overtime. next to score wins.

you stumble hurriedly down the steps before you make it to the front row. just as the note said, there’s an open seat directly in front of the player box. you see the flash of ginger hair from under a helmet, hunched over on the bench as she watches the play, clearly nervous. you lock your gaze on her and run up to the plexiglass wall. 

there’s a tiny slot in the glass, usually where the players hand a dead puck or a broken stick through the slot to an eager fan, but you’re too desperate to get a hold of megan that you yell to her through it, hoping she can hear you over all the noise.

“megan!”

she looks around confusedly, before turning around to see you against the glass. 

“y/n?”

“you deserve so much more than an apology, but i can at least start with saying i’m sorry,” you know the confession is terrible timing wise, but you’ll never live with yourself if you don’t get it off your chest, especially on such an important night for megan. “i’ve been so horrible to you, assuming all the worst, and you’ve been nothing but an angel to me. ugh, i just…i feel so stupid, because i know how this ends, and i don’t want to get hurt, but i feel like i’ll regret it if i don’t say something.”

“how this ends?” you see megan’s brows furrow together underneath her face guard. “y/n, i could never even dream of hurting you.”

“you didn’t want to kiss me,” you remind her, but you don’t want it to feel like a guilt trip. “and that’s okay, i just know that changed a lot and-”

“because you were drunk.” she cuts you off, shaking her head quickly, her nose wrinkling as she clamps her eyes shut. “that’s- it’s just- fuck.”

“what?” you ask, but before you can finish, daniela slams into the player box and leans in towards megan.

“kazuha’s getting killed out there. she needs a stronger center out, coach is gonna put you in,” dani yells over the roar of the crowd, reaching over to grab a fast sip of water. she shoots a look at you, then a warning glare at megan to wrap it up. “30 seconds.”

“y/n—“

30 seconds is all you need. you won’t waste your shot. 

“megan, i really like you. as in, really like you.” you feel the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you finally hear the words out loud. “as in, i think i’m falling for you, which is so scary. i’m sorry for messing up our friendship. these feelings are way too huge for me to push away. knowing you was amazing and i don’t want you thinking for a second that it wasn’t.”

“skiendiel, in for center. push up and get that puck into that damn net!” coach yells, tapping the back of the ginger’s helmet to get her attention. 

megan gives you a look, your confession hanging in the air, before she leaps over the door and back onto the ice. 

she’s so insanely fast. you don’t have to know hockey to know she’s zipping circles around the other team, their yells of frustration loud and clear as megan swipes in to intercept pass after pass. 

she’s so focused. you watch in awe. 

dani is yelling something to which kazuha nods, dropping her shoulders to book it towards megan. megan uses their proximity to take the pass, running the puck once more up the ice. the defense of the other team are playing dirty, a high stick to the eye immediately taking daniela flat down onto the ice. lara calls for a foul from her spot in the goalie’s box, but the ref didn’t see it, so the play goes on at break-neck speed. 

despite the chaos, megan is locked in to what she needs to do. 

she spits the puck back out in a blazing pass back to kazuha, spinning off an incoming check from another player. she eyes the goal for a split moment, the clock trickling down into its final seconds, before kazuha’s pass is already blasting towards her. 

megan shows no hesitation. she checks a defense into the wall before spinning off, stick lifting into the air to take the most perfect shot off kazuha’s pass. 

your breath catches in your throat as the puck seems to suspend in air, everything going in slow motion. then, your eyes meet, in the middle of it all. 

the goal lights up red just as the buzzer hits. the entire stadium erupts into a deafening roar as you watch megan get swarmed by her entire team. final score 3-2. 

they’re cheering as a team, but you see the flash of ginger hair as a helmet comes off and a body starts skating back towards you. you move to the tunnel, where megan comes off the ice and can finally be face to face with you. she’s breathing heavy, stray hairs clinging to her face through the sweat. 

“i didn’t kiss you that night because i wanted it to be perfect.” megan’s still catching her breath, but she seems desperate to clear her name. you feel frozen in front of her, but she presses on earnestly. “i didn’t want it to be another kiss with a random stranger i’d forget about in a week. i’ve spent too much time thinking about kissing you. i didn’t want it to be anything less than perfect for you.”

“i’m crazy about you, y/n,” she gasps breathlessly, arm wrapping around your waist without hesitation. “i like everything about you. i like you so much it scares me.”

“why didn’t you say anything?” is all you can manage, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“are you serious?” megan lets out a high pitched laugh. “look at you. you’re the most brilliant, incredible, hilarious, kind person i know. i didn’t think i stood a chance. i’m nowhere near cool enough or smart enough to think i was good enough to talk to you, let alone getting to be your friend. it was so worth it to just be your friend. i would have been happy with that forever.”

you feel your head spin. megan thinks all this about you?

“i literally asked you to kiss me,” you press, confused about how it could have been misread.

“i didn’t think you were being weird about me being popular. when you cleared that up, my next thought was that you were pitying me, like how you pity-tutored me.” she confesses. “i overthought and it messed me up. i’m sorry.”

“if you don’t just damn kiss already,” lara barks at you guys as the team starts to trickle off the ice and into the tunnel, daniela grinning teasingly right behind her as she ices her eye. you wince at how bad her eye looks following that high stick, but then you realize what she’s teasing you about. 

you look back at megan, those perfect brown eyes searching for something in yours. you can’t possibly understand how someone who just won her team a national championship can still seem so hesitant. 

“may i?” she tilts her head eagerly. 

“oh my god, asking permission after all that.” you groan and wrap your arms around her neck, head reeling from all that’s just unfolded. “megan, you chivalrous loser, i swear to god.”

she grins something so angelic, you choose to forgive her. 

and the kiss she gives you, gentle yet eager, her arms wrapping around your waist to anchor you in place, is so, so perfect. so insanely worth the wait. 

-

you walk into your 11am intro to british literature class that tuesday, door held open for you by your chivalrous loser. 

sophia’s grading papers at the professor’s desk when eyes drop to your hands (your interlaced, holding-hands-with-megan hands) and smiles at you so giddily, you can’t help but smile back at her just as big. she’s never going to let you live this down. 

dani and lara sit in the row directly behind you guys, hooting and making kissy noises to taunt their younger teammate. you won’t admit how much these idiots have grown on you. 

megan’s arm snakes behind your shoulders as she leans back in her seat next to you. her laptop is already out, open to a new document. you’re so insanely proud of her for her determination. 

you’re too busy admiring her to realize you’re staring, and by the time you’re aware, she’s side-eyeing you. 

“eyes on your own paper, cheater.”

“oh my god, class hasn’t even started yet. you literally haven’t even typed anything.”

her fingers quickly hit the keyboard, a few strokes before she turns the computer to face you. 

i <3 my super cool gf

girlfriend. your heart races at the memory of how you made it official over the weekend after being her date to all the celebratory dinners. you smile and type something back. 

i <3 my dorky sweet gf

megan won’t ever let you catch a break. “oh, so you get to be cool and i’m just a dork again?”

“my dork now,” you remind her. 

“you’re on thin ice,” she rolls her eyes. “you’ll have to take me on a date to make up for it.”

she reaches forward to take your hand in hers, letting them dangle between the desks. you give her hand a gentle squeeze. she peers at you from the corner of her eye, scrunches her nose, and re-focuses on the board as the professor sets up his presentation. 

this stupid letterman jacket you’ve always talked shit about is actually kinda warm. at least, you like it a whole lot better when you’re the one wearing it. 

“i like you so much,” you breathe quietly as the lecture begins.

she smiles eagerly, bringing your hand up to plant a kiss along your knuckles. she’s been so open about her affection for you, you feel like you’re in a dream.

“the guy is trying to teach,” she chastizes you, and you roll your eyes at the change in roles. the way she looks at you tells you she has so, so much to say, and your heart pounds as she focuses back on the lecture. your responsible girl. 

she doesn’t leave you hanging, however, adding a final thought.

 “but yeah, ditto.”

[nakylvr]

Hey, can I request for Daniela Avanzini where Y/n is also a member of katseye and she’s dating dani (at this point they’re very popular) but Dani gets jealous because Y/n and Megan have been getting shipped a lot on tiktok and people make edits of them. Y/n gets a little annoyed bc she keeps telling Dani that obviously nothing is going on between her and Megan so she has nothing to worry about but Dani doesn’t wanna let it go.

I know it’s a lot lol but I love that you’re literally the only person writing katseye and I love your writing style. Thank you!

thank you so much for requesting this it was so fun! 🫶 im sorry it took a while 😓 and it lowkey went off the rails from the req im sorry

— ENVIOUS

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst/happy ending, jealous!daniela, language, 7th member!reader, established relationship, mini argument, not proofread

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

it wasn't hard for daniela to get jealous. she could get jealous at someone merely looking at you for a second too long. but those were with people she didn't know. you figured she wouldn't get jealous over something silly like fans shipping you with megan and edits being made of you two.

you were unfortunately wrong.

it's what causes the first real argument in your relationship. you and daniela started dating right after the end of dream academy and the lineup was announced, having feelings for each other during the whole survival show and actually officially dating once it was all over. and it was great. you debuted, you went to kcon, you went on a mini asia tour, and everything was great.

you obviously knew it was easy to get daniela jealous. after debuting and getting popular there would be some celebrities that would try to talk to you or hit on you and she would suddenly appear beside you to drag you off somewhere. but you didn't think she would get jealous because of one of the members who was most definitely not into you.

the fans had grown to like you and megan as a duo, a ship even with some of the edits you've seen on tiktok. to the point where you two were one of the more popular ships in the fandom. you thought it was silly, and you would occasionally giggle at the edits because you didn't take it seriously and you thought it wasn't serious enough to worry about. until daniela saw.

she knows she shouldn't get jealous over it to the point she's essentially ignoring you. but that's just how she is. she knows she can't officially say anything cause management would go ballistic and they'd probably go on hiatus. she knows megan doesn't see you that way. but that's just how she is.

you knew something was wrong when daniela started ignoring you. and that was hard for her, you both knew that. she couldn't stand being away from you, let alone ignore you for days on end leaving you wondering what you did to cause this. so you knew something was seriously wrong then.

the girls noticed it too. the tension that had suddenly grown was odd for them all watching dani ignore you while you would stare with sad eyes trying to figure out what happened. but they couldn't do anything. daniela wouldn't budge on telling anyone anything. so everyone was left in the dark while you had to deal with how to address it.

it was late at night when all the girls were asleep that you decided to confront her on it. she was in the living room reading one of her books when you left your shared room with sophia and yoonchae, which you weren't surprised about. her eyes flickered up from the book only to look back down a second later once seeing it was you.

you slowly approach the couch before sitting down at the edge of it, keeping a distance between you two which the blonde notices. you glance over at her, letting out a sigh before speaking. "can we talk?"

"about what?" daniela responds, her eyes focused on the book but not reading anymore.

"gee i don't know, let's start at you ignoring me," you say, shaking your head and scoffing quietly.

"i'm not ignoring you." daniela's eyes stay fixated on the book, her hands gripping it more tightly in her hands.

"really? that's what you're going to say?" you look at her with furrowed eyebrows. "obviously you're ignoring me, and i don't know why. so please talk to me."

"there's nothing to talk about," daniela mutters.

your lips pursed in a thin line, your irritation starting to become greater at every word she says. without a second thought, you yank the book out of her hands and put it on the table in front of you, seeing her eyes widen as she finally looks at you.

"what the fuck, yn?"

"what the fuck?" you repeat. "what the fuck, daniela? that's what you have to say?"

when daniela's eyes meet yours for the first time in weeks, she can see the mixed emotions in them. you're angry, upset, confused. all because of her. she feels a twang of guilt rush through her at the sight.

"after ignoring me for weeks you're surprised i'm fed up with it?" you shake your head. "look, i don't know what i did, but i can't fix it unless you tell me. why have you been ignoring me?" you ask the question again.

"i'm not ignoring you."

you take a deep breath after her words, your anger starting to bubble up before you speak. "fine," you say, standing up. "if you won't tell me what's going on, then i think we should end this."

"what?" daniela's eyes go wide and her head jerks up to you when you stand, the expression on her face finally changing into something you hadn't seen, panic evident in her eyes. "you're not serious."

you just stare down at her, your arms crossed over your chest. "i am. we can't fix things if you won't say what the problem is. that's for everything. i don't even know what i did, daniela, because you won't tell me. how do i know if it's something serious or something petty like you being jealous? i don't. so yeah, i'm fucking serious," you tell her, your voice and look on your face being enough to tell her you are serious. "if you don't tell me in the next ten seconds then i can assure you this is over."

daniela feels her mouth go dry at your words. you're serious. you're serious about leaving her. she knows you're right. she knows she has to just suck it up and say it. just say it and she won't lose you. just fucking say it.

"i don't like how close you're getting with megan," she blurts out.

the words take a moment to process in your brain, and before you can even think of a response, she's continuing.

"i know she doesn't see you that way and you don't see her that way but i don't like it," she says. "i've seen all the edits, i've seen all the tweets, i mean fuck it's like how much more obvious can i be before people realize that you're with me? i know we can't officially say anything but i can't stand it. i trust you and the girls, of course i do, but what if a pr stunt happens? what if the company says you're dating some random celebrity and i-i'm left behind and you realize you don't really love me and–"

"dani, calm down." you sit down again, closer to her and cupping her face in your hands, cutting her off of her rambling. "are you really jealous over megan of all people? the clingiest girl ever? dani, there's nothing to worry about," you tell her. "it's nothing serious, you should know that. i love you, daniela. okay? even if for some random reason the company does a pr relationship i promise nothing will change between us. so please, stop worrying."

daniela slowly nods along to what you say, her eyes flickering across your face. "i'm sorry for ignoring you," she says in a quiet voice.

"it's alright," you reply, your thumb drawing circles on her cheeks. "i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too," she whispers back.

[queers-gambit]

Fútbol is Life

prompt: Dani Rojas always says "fútbol is life," but it wasn't supposed to take precedence over you in Roy's. when he stands you up, disappointment and repercussions ensue. -> or when Roy forgets a date with you

pairing: Roy Kent x female!reader

fandom: Ted Lasso -> no masterlist... yet

collection masterlist: Nights Like This

word count: 9.9k+

note: this is pretty tame in comparison to other angsty fics

warnings: obvious cursing, established relationship, feelings are hard, depiction and mention of anxiety, Lord's name in vain, some fluff, some angst, more so hurt and comfort, purposeful use of repetition. Coach Beard is Bestie and threatens arson, romanticized job promotion, use of Y/N, pet names for / from everyone! not edited, this fic got away from the author.

"You still in yesterday's clothes?" A deep grumble sounded from behind you; being so used to it, you weren't startled.

"Uh-huh."

"Why're you up so early?"

"Mhhhhmmmmm."

"You get any fuckin' sleep?"

"Right, right, whatever you say, baby."

A pause as the pitter-patter of a rapidly clacking keyboard filled the space.

"I'm thinkin' of wearin' Phoebe’s Elsa costume all of trainin' today, complete with the wig. Thoughts?"

"Uh-huh, sounds good, love," the clatter continued until the screen that burned your retinas suddenly closed, and should you not have retracted your hands, would've been the meat of a technology sandwich. "Oi!" You snapped, looking up to meet Roy's knowing glare. "What'd you do that for? You're lucky this automatically saves!"

"Sweetheart," Roy leered, lowering so he balanced his hands on the arm of the sofa you occupied, "you're not good to anyone half-dead. A single night isn't gonna do anything more than what you've already done the past months."

You deflected shyly, "I'm just editing."

"At 95 words per-fuckin'-minute?"

While Roy glared, you expressed sheepishness, "I just - it needs to be perfect, okay? Today can't be anything less." He growled knowingly, handing you the perfect cup of coffee you didn't hear, smell, see, or realize he made with a kiss to the top of your head. With a smile, you bid, "Thank you, lovebug."

He grunted and took the seat beside you. "Right, then. Let's see it," he gestured for your laptop.

"You're not gonna understand what it says, it's all corporate lingo and statistics and - "

"Don't fuckin' matter - hand it over."

You slowly, cautiously, placing the computer on his lap. He flipped the lid and scanned the 60-some page document swiftly, skipped through the paired PowerPoint, nodded with his usual growl, then slapped it shut and pushed it onto the coffee table. "Fuck's sake, Roy!" You protested, trying to lean forward to take it back.

"Nope," he caught you beforehand and pulled you back to rest together against the cushions. He even reached around you to one of the many fuzzy pillows you decorated with, giving it a fluff, then situated it behind you comfortably. "We're gonna sit here for a moment, let you decompress. Like I said, you're no good half-fuckin'-dead. Just take a fuckin' breather, love, c'mon."

You deflated, pouting at him. "I just wanna do well."

Roy stretched his arm around your shoulders, letting you curl into his side. "I don't know what you're so stressed about. Hardest Goddamn worker I know, they'd be fuckin' idiots to pass you over for this promotion."

"You call them idiotic, unqualified, pampered wankers everyday," you giggled.

"'Cause they fuckin' are."

"Yes, yes, I know. But with me in this new position, maybe I can change things up so we're not all fuckin' wankers, hey?"

"Promotion or not, you'd never be like them," he mused, "you're too fuckin' pure, so innocent; sometimes, it makes me sick."

"You bloody romantic," you snickered, leaning your forehead to his temple.

"Just don't tell anyone, I've got a reputation to uphold. Still need a ride today, doll?"

"No, 's all right, baby, I hate makin' you late. Thank you, though, Sully's gonna pick me up."

"Know I don't care 'bout punctuality - 'specially when it's t'help you."

"Yeah, but you know I hate being dependent on or inconveniencing others."

He hummed, "You hear from the garage yet? How much longer they gonna keep your car?"

"They said probably in the next day or two, so, you'll officially be relieved of chauffeur duties very soon," you lifted your head to peck his fuzzy cheek.

"Oh, shut it - know you love me drivin' you 'round."

"Guilty," you grinned. "Makes me feel like a princess."

"Good, not doin' my job if you don't. So you wanna tell me why you're doin' work before actually goin' inta work?"

You shrugged meekly, readjusting so your legs were tossed over his lap, taking your own pull of coffee before answering, "I'm just makin' sure everything's in order, I'm a bit nervous to present all this."

"Darlin', it's as perfect as you are. And fuck the presentation, you're gonna make it your bitch and smash it. Should those twats in suits not think so, just call me... I'll set the bastards straight."

You hummed, smiling at him brightly. "You're a regular knight in shining armor, aren't yah? Who's just lookin' for reasons t'yell?"

"Always," he grunted, sipping his coffee, "every princess needs a knight, don't she?"

"Not a prince?"

"Nah, princes are over-fuckin'-raided, spoiled, pampered li'l spineless bitches."

You eyed him for a suspicious moment, quipping, "You or Pheebs come up with that?"

"Pheebs," he growled with a proud smirk. "Feel sorry for any bloke that comes her way."

"No you don't, you relish the idea of beating the shit outta anyone that remotely shows interest in her."

Roy chuckled gruffly, "I'm a man, I know how they think. So, if you figure out another way to keep her safe, feel free to share. Now, what time you gotta go?"

"Uh," you checked your watch, "Sully should be here soon, I should probably finish getting ready... Or start getting ready, I mean."

"Could save time and shower together," he smirked.

With laughter, you shook your head, "As tempting as that is, baby, we're on a time limit."

"Don't matter, I'll just drop you at work - they can't start until you're there anyway."

"Yeah, but you've got trainin' t'get to, love."

"So fuckin' what? I can be late. Ted'll understand - since he fuckin' adores you for whatever fuckin' reason."

"Because I'm fucking adorable," you snickered before leaning in to kiss him with another smile. "I appreciate you, baby, but I've got it. Thank you for offering and, you know, driving me everywhere the past week - but I really, really can't afford t'be late today."

Roy heaved a heavy sigh, "All right. Fine. C'mon, then," he grunted under his breath as he stood, "let's get you dressed."

"First time you've ever said that," you laughed, snatching his hand to lift onto your feet; following him to the bedroom. In tandem, you both prepared for your days at work; and while you didn't need to offer any vote to his fit - being the same monochromatic look everyday - you consulted his opinion on an appropriate fit for that day's presentation.

"You don't think that's a bit... Too sexy?" He asked, eyeing the heather grey pencil dress from where it hung on the closet door. "Tits look fuckin' spectacular in that - maybe too good for work."

"Kinda figured if I get nervous and fuck up orally, the way I look will be enough to distract," you smirked. "Or should I wear that little white number - "

"No, no, fuck no, you wear that for me and me alone," Roy grit, making you snicker and drop your robe; revealing a matching set of lingerie. His head cocked, eyeing you up and down, "I buy you that?"

You glanced at the bralette, sending him a smirk, "Not this one, but it is new; thought a matching set would give me a confidence boost. You like it?"

"Fuckin' love it," he mused, "not loving that you're wearing it for work, though."

"Well, maybe you should take me out tonight so it doesn't go to waste," you beamed, tugging the clingy material over your body; adjusting it as needed.

"Fuck yeah, I'm gonna take you out tonight. Fuckin' hell - look at yah! Not 'bouta let this look go to waste, gotta show you off."

With a smile, you informed, "I'll be out 'round 4."

Roy smirked, watching you debate shoes. "Them blue ones, there," he pointed to a pair of Tiffany blue heels that laced around your ankle; the aglet being a fun puff ball to add a hint of whimsy. "Right, how's 'bout dinner at Bordeaux? Drinks at Johnny's after?"

"You don't drink durin' the season," you reminded, dropping to the bed beside him to secure your shoes. He pulled your legs to his lap, sliding the heels over your feet and lacing them.

"Yeah, but I'll make an exception t'celebrate your new promotion. Hey?"

"That sounds really nice," you agreed. "Let's pray we're drinking in celebration and not in dejection."

Roy scoffed, "Fuck off. You've busted your arse for this, it's gonna go exactly as you plan."

"You sure you got trainin' today? Can't come with me, be my personal source of confidence?" You pouted, leaning into his side with your chin on his shoulder; hand finding his to lace together. "Maybe bully the higher-ups a bit into accepting my proposals?"

"Don't need me," he soothed in a rumble, "your work speaks for itself. You're just nervous, love, but it'll go away once you get your ball rollin'."

"Pun intended?" You smirked, earning a deadpanned expression. So you groaned and stood to finish getting ready, snipping, "Well why can't they just read my reports and such? Why do I have to present it?"

"Because they like it when you dumb it down so they don't have to actually fuckin' think. They only run the company 'cause they bought their way in, didn't earn it by merit - like you will."

"Oh... Thaaaat's right," you grinned, leaning into the mirror to push earrings through your piercings. "Love, could you hand me - ah, thank you," you smiled when he appeared behind you, hand splayed to present your usual jewelry. "Right," you finished latching the clasp, turning in the mirror to get a full look at yourself, then facing Roy. With your arms held in bravado, you quipped, "Well? What do yah think?"

"I'd buy any-fuckin'-thing you're selling," he nodded, arms sweeping around your waist.

"I'm not selling anything but myself as president of the very company I helped get off the bloody ground."

"I stand by my statement."

Your phone buzzed, smartwatch lighting up with notification. "Sully's here," you sighed, latching your arms around his neck, "and you've gotta get goin'."

"Hm," he growled, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. "'S gonna be a great day, doll, can feel it for yah."

"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend? He's not usually so optimistic."

"Ha-ha," he grit, but the smirk on his lips assured he knew you were only teasing him. "C'mon, love."

Roy waited at the front door as you finished flitting around the home, grabbing your laptop and work purse, phone, chargers, keys, whatever you needed for the day; scampering out the door he held. Your coworker-slash-bestie, Erica Sullivan, a.k.a. Sully, waited in her BMW on the street, watching you walk Roy to his car.

"Bordeaux at 4:30?" You checked, him peering down at you fondly.

"I'll be there, baby. Now," he growled, "kick today's arse, and kick that meetin' every harder - always go for the crotch. Hey?"

"Mhm," you smiled, nodding in agreement. "Have a good day," you whispered, letting his lips drop to yours, "be nice to Coach Lasso - oh! - and tell Beard I finished our book and next is either Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant or Things Fall Apart."

"What's that fuckin' matter?"

"We bet who finishes each book first, winner chooses the next."

"Can't believe you're in a fuckin' bookclub with him," he scoffed slightly, looking mildly annoyed; which made you grin.

"You can't be jealous, I invite you each time!"

"Whatever," he scoffed, checking his watch. "Right, we better get goin' - "

"One more, one more, one more," you pouted, "for my nerves."

He chuckled and slid his hand across your jaw to romantically hold the back of your neck at the base of your head. "Got plenty of those, love, c'mere," he muttered, bringing you in for another kiss that made your head spin. His tongue swept against yours slowly, honestly riling you up versus calming you down - and it would've progressed if Sully didn't lay on her horn.

"I love you both but I need coffee!" She shouted from her window when you broke apart to glare at her car. "Let's go! Hurry the fuck up, you can dick her down anytime! We've got a real job t'get to!"

"Might honestly strangle her," Roy muttered, rolling his eyes, redirecting your attention to him. "Listen t'me, don't fuckin' worry 'bout today - you know you're prepared; you're gonna fuckin' kill it. Don't ever second guess yourself about what you deserve."

"Thanks, baby," you whispered, smiling, pecking his lips one more time. "All right, go, go, go, you gotta get gone or Beard'll give me that unnerving stare next bookclub."

He sighed heavily, but relented, "Love you, doll."

"Love you, too, handsome." You turned to leave, but Roy pushed off his car to ease his arm around your shoulders as you headed for Sully. "What're you - "

"My girl doesn't touch doors, you know this," he answered easily, gruffly opening the passenger door of the BMW. He took your purse, offering his hand to ease you into the seat; leaning down to set your belongings at your feet and nod at the driver. "Sully..."

"Fuckface," she smirked.

He growled in the back of his throat while glaring at your snickering bestie; looking at you softer, "Good luck today, sweetheart."

"Thank you, baby," you whispered with a growing grin; always entertained by Sully and Roy's competition and feigned distain for one another.

Never minding the fact that Roy personally saved her from a horrible date once - it'd ruin their power dynamic.

With one last glare to your snickering best friend, he grunted and lifted up to properly shut the door. You tried to watch him back to his car, but Sully was already zooming off.

"Nervous 'bout today, lovie?"

"No shit," you frowned, "considering the biggest promotion of my life really rides on this."

"I know, but I guess you're kinda supposed t'be nervous since you're goin' for an admin position. What was Fuckface's reaction?"

You pinned her with a sideways glare, answering with a sigh, "Supportive, as usual. We're goin' to Bordeaux tonight either to celebrate or drown my disappointing sorrow."

"Oh, fuck off, you've been working on this for, what? 6 years? And no, I'm not just saying that 'cause you got me a kickarse job."

You corrected with a snicker, "Might as well be 6 bloody years, all the God forsaken hours I've put in."

"Breathe, babes," she beamed, "you're gonna fuckin' kill it."

"You sound like Roy."

"Ah, fuck, can't have that. Even though he took the love of my life," she scoffed slightly, making you coo obnoxiously.

"Oh, babes, know you're my first and greatest love."

"Better be," she grumbled, "put over two decades inta yah, better be your first choice."

"Not my only choice?"

"Well, I can't give you babies... You know, I don't produce sperm - stupid fuckin' biology and shit."

"That fickle bitch."

She hummed in agreement. "Now... I know it's your turn to buy coffee but I got it, bit of a treat for your big day. But when you get that promotion, you're buying for a month."

"Deal and deal," you laughed.

After the most successful day of your career, your walk to Bordeaux was spent dialing your family to relay the news. Your mother squealed and cried with joy, repeating her pride and calling your father on a three-way; and your siblings pleaded for bragging rights as you were officially one of the youngest female presidents of any company. They also began rattling off expensive Christmas and birthday gifts they've longed for. Naturally, you mockingly scolded them for spending money you didn't have yet, but secretly took note of their suggestions before telling them to stay off social media until the official press release was published. That way, you controlled who knew.

Arriving at the prestigious French restaurant around 4:15, you put your name down for two; accepting a place at the bar until a table was available. The dining room was fully packed with patrons, waitstaff zipping around in perfected synchronization.

"Hello, love," the kind bartender greeted, "what can I get started for yah?"

"Oh, uh..." You scanned the drinks menu, "um... Maybe just... A Merlot?"

"Hmm. Are we celebrating tonight?" The young lad pressed, sensing your indecision.

"Yeah, just a job promotion," you couldn't fight your grin, "but my partner's not here yet, so maybe no champagne yet."

"Understood," he nodded.

"You know what? I am celebrating," you beamed confidently. "So, I'll have whatever you recommend."

"Any preferences?"

"I like sweet wines - oh! And mojitos!"

"Then you would've hated the Merlot - but not to brag, love, I make a mean coconut mojito."

"It's like you read my mind," you agreed with a bright smile.

By the end of your drink, your table was ready... And it was going on 4:30 in the evening; so you texted Roy there wouldn't be a wait, that you got a table. After following the hostess, you sat facing the restaurant to catch Roy's arrival; purse hanging on the back of your chair, gingerly fingering the flowers nervously as the minutes began to tick.

So, you waited. And made up elaborate backgrounds for the strangers around you.

Understanding training could go overtime, you didn't want to press Roy yet; so you enjoyed an appetizer, knowing he wouldn't mind you starting before him, and a second mojito. You even ordered a nice bottle of imported champagne, letting it chill on ice in a bucket beside the table; feeling a little pathetic uncorking a bottle by yourself.

You waited. And impulsively treated yourself, buying your Amazon cart.

Catching sight of few people sneaking pictures of the Great Roy-fucking-Kent's girlfriend, you tried to act as unbothered, natural, and aloof as you could in the spotlight of scrutinization; feeling humiliated, foolish, so bloody stupid.

You waited. And checked your email.

By 5, you ordered an entrée you knew Roy would enjoy and checked your phone. There were several messages from your family, new work emails, a few push notifications... But nothing from Roy.

You texted him again: did i get the wrong time? thought we said 4:30?

The complimentary basket of bread was replenished as you called his number - but it rang, and rang, and rang until his voicemail picked up.

"Uh, hey, it's, like, 5 and I'm sitting in this fucking restaurant alone, Roy. Where the hell are you? What's going on? Could at least text me if you're gonna be late. I already ordered for us. As annoyed as I am right now, I love you... Please call me back, or text me, or better yet, please, walk through the bloody door."

You waited. And doom-scrolled social media.

Your leg bounced from anxiety, something sinking your stomach to your feet the longer the minutes ticked. Unsolicited tears filled your eyes but refused to fall in public; skin feeling prickly and sweaty, ribcage made of iron, not bone. Looking around the hoard of patrons enjoying their dates, you had to mentally beat jealousy off with a stick riddled with protruding nails. It hurt something fierce seeing so many other people who weren't stood up; their sideways glances cast as if you were a social pariah and they pitied you.

Pity was the last thing you ever wanted, so you pretended to look busy to give the impression you were alone on purpose.

With each glance to your message thread, you grew increasingly uncomfortable seeing so many blue bubbles; a divide between the texts that delivered and those that didn't. Roy knew you had abandonment issues stemming from your parents and general anxiety; so the idea he was ghosting you filled your heart and mind with lead; mixing in your blood to pump through your body and weigh on your soul. He's never behaved such as this before, so while you knew in your subconscious he wasn't ignoring you, the little devil on your shoulder hissed Roy had enough of you and set up this date only to get you out of the house so he could pack his shit in peace. Heat flushed your core, worried he fell out of love with you and didn't know how to say it - but on the off chance he did show up at this point, you remained in your chair.

So, you waited. And played Candy Crush.

Calling him again, and again, and again; all going straight to voicemail. On the fourth redial, you left another message: "Roy, seriously," you snarled quietly, "where the fuck are you!?I've been waiting for you over an hour! They're gonna ask I surrender the table soon if you don't show up soon. Please, call me back or send a bloody text."

You were served two meals about 45 minutes later - long wait due to the overwhelmed kitchen - thanking the waiter with a meek, watery tone; emotional from sending so many unanswered texts and several voicemails. Your appetite paired with coconut mojitos cascaded into the void of mortification, nearly sending the plate back - but you felt that was horribly rude and a waste of time, money, and energy from the toxicity of self-deprecation. Instead of the divine-smelling roasted duck ordered, your stomach filled with panic, wondering why you were even still here!? You began to reprimand yourself for prolonging this situation and causing your own hurt; thinking you should've left within half an hour of his ghosting, not endure silent humiliation that was sure to end up in tomorrow's tabloids.

Why am I still here? Why am I still here? Why the fuck am I still here?

Because you knew the devil on your shoulder was wrong. Roy would never do something like this maliciously, and selfishly wanted to have a rare on-season date night. You weren't known for giving up; and after his experiences, refused to give up on Roy no matter how upset you might be with him at any given moment - so you began mentally gaslight yourself by designing excuses and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Your heart rate escalated.

Your leg bounced with an entirely new anxiety than you started the day with when 6:30 rolled around, feeling something akin to devastating realization he wasn't coming to this overpriced, always-booked restaurant that was supposed to be a date to celebrate you. Then the thought suddenly occurred to you: what if something happened? Was he hurt? Was it his knee? A car crash? Some emergency? If there had been some kind of incident, shouldn't someone have called you by now, being his incase of emergency (ICE) contact? Did he get into a brawl with Jamie again, earning laps as punishment? Was there something going on with the team - was someone hurt? - and since he was captain, required to stay late to help?

You wondered how much longer you'd sit there, alone, looking like a lonely fucking prick.

Hating the anticipation and lack of communication, so you hit Coach Beard's contact while pushing food around the plate to give the illusion of eating. You cleared your sinuses and throat to mask the emotional turmoil. "I was just gonna text you my vote is Things Fall Apart, so you better not be calling to gloat, chickadee," Beard answered, "I know you won."

"Well, howdy to you, too, cowboy," you chuckled.

"Reach for the sky, bay-baayyyy!"

You snickered, "Careful, Coach, Disney doesn't approve of personal use of their propaganda."

"Only if they catch me," he chuckled dryly. "What can I do you for, twirly girly?"

"Oh, right. Listen, toots, uh, what's goin' on over there? How late are you gonna keep the lads?"

"Uh...? We're not, they're gone for the day."

You hushed, "Well, Roy and I had plans to meet for dinner 2 hours ago and he isn't here. Is he okay? Is he there? He has to be there, Coach, please tell me he's still there."

"Uhhhh... Well... See, what had happened was - "

"Beard, where the fuck is Roy? Is he hurt?"

"Um... No, not per se..."

"Well, what can you say? You better answer me or I'm tellin' Jane 'bout Halloween."

There was a long pause, hearing him sigh, "He's with the team, they went out."

"Wait, wait, wait - w-what? Out? Out where?" Your heart plummeted, throat constricting in white hot emotion.

"Hang on, honey." His voice sounded away from the receiver, "Hey, Coach?"

"Yeah, Coach?" You heard Ted.

"Where'd the guys go?"

"Oh, some new bar down the way that stays open past closin' time. Which is considerably early compared to America's 2am curfew."

"Hear that, pumpkin?" Beard spoke into the phone.

"It's a pub," you corrected automatically, "and yeah, I heard."

"What's goin' on?"

"Is that my sunshine!?" Ted was heard. "Put 'er on speaker! I wanna say hi!" You smiled despite the disappointment racking your mind, body, and soul as Beard obviously did as bid, the American coach cooing, "Hey, buggaboo! How you doin'? I'm sure you look real pretty today!"

You chuckled, "Hi, Teddy."

"Know what? I never liked that nickname 'til you started callin' me it!"

"You like anything I do, you overly supportive sap."

"Awh, you sure know how to flatter a guy. What's goin' on, sunshine? Ain't'cha out with the boys?"

"No, Coach, I'm actually sitting alone in a stupidly nice restaurant - apparently being stood up by my boyfriend who'd rather go out drinkin' with his mates without a word to me."

"HE WHAT!?" Beard yelled, making you flinch and jerk the phone from your ear. When you brought it back, you caught the tail end of his rant, " - and he'll run laps all day tomorrow! No breaks! Or I'll burn. This place. DOWN!"

"Beard? Honey?" You waited patiently as Ted was trying to calm his friend down, too. "Honey? Hey, you listenin'?"

"Yeah," Beard grumbled.

"Both you boys listenin'?"

"Uh-huh, what's up, sunshine?" Ted answered. "I got my hand on Beard's mouth, he ain't gonna interrupt yah. Go 'head."

You paused, taking a breath, "I got the promotion."

"YOU WHAT!?" Ted now yelled, Beard heard echoing right after; them obviously celebrating. You chuckled sadly, feeling ashamed over telling them first over Roy - but it wasn't like he was answering his phone, no way of relaying this life changing event. "Holy guacamole, sunshine! This is - wow! Just wow! Congratulations! Oh, my good golly all mighty! You got the job!? Oh, man! We gotta celebrate!"

You perked up a little, "Well, uh, if you're interested, I'm... I'm at this French place and might've already ordered a bottle of champagne. Would you two like to join me? I think it's a bit sad t'drink it alone."

"Hell, yes! We're on the way, peach!" Beard declared. "Ted - Ted - Ted, your bag."

"Oh, right!"

"And keys."

"Where - ah, there they are! Got 'em!"

"And phone!"

"Ah, dang it!"

Beard told you, "We're on our way there... Wait, where's there?"

You chuckled and promised to text the address so he just had to click it and follow the iPhone GPS. You asked them their order before hanging up; asking your waiter to box Roy's food and put in for their meals, also requesting your meal be reheated and brought back at the same time as the others. You finished another mojito by the time they arrived around 7, an extra chair being brought to the table; both holding bouquets of flowers they bought from a local shop on the way.

Standing to hug the two Americans, you thanked them repeatedly for being so kind and supportive; all sitting to enjoy the cuisine and pop the champagne. Despite their silliness and good-natured ways that was obviously exaggerated to distract you, the coaches couldn't miss the way your eyes were dimmed from your boyfriend's antics even if they tried.

"You know, I'm sure Roy ain't mean to forget. The boys thought they'd go out to this, uh, this new place to celebrate a real good day. It's some bar - "

"Pub," Beard corrected, nodding at you.

"Right, right, they went to this new pub down the way," Ted nodded. "Apparently, Richmond drinks for free and them boys wasn't gonna let that pass."

"Well," you huffed, "good to know."

"You all right, sunshine?"

"Oh, for sure," you snipped, downing the last champagne in your flute; Beard instantly refilling it. "I just love being stood up, simply adore bein' forgotten."

"Well, we're here to celebrate you - with you," Ted grinned. "C'mon, now, tell us all about this new gig! Spare no detail! We want it all!"

"Do you even know what position I was goin' for?"

"Nope, but I know it was mighty important."

"President," Beard answered, Ted gasping.

"And you got it!? Oh-ho-hooo! Awh, man! This is cause for dessert! Coach?"

"Absolutely. Pumpkin?"

"Oh, what the hell! Crêpes on me," you grinned. "Actually, think I could ask you two a favor?"

"Anything."

"Whatcha need, sunshine?" Ted snickered at Beard's stoic posture and deadpanned expression whilst still conveying support.

"Think you could arrange a meetin' with Rebecca for me? I know she's all busy but I could use some advice as a woman in power - and some style inspiration, if I'm honest."

"I thought you had her number?" Beard asked.

"I do, I just kinda hope she'd be more inclined to agree meetin' me if from you lot...?"

"Well, as far as I've seen, she likes you a helluva lot more than us - "

"Done," Ted chirped, already pulling out his phone as the waiter approached the table. Beard chuckled at Ted before ordering dessert for everyone. Coach Lasso then wondered, "Hey, you try textin' any of the other guys?"

"No, I called Beard when Roy didn't answer, thought trainin' went overtime or someone got hurt, that there might've been some situation," you shrugged. "And honestly? I don't think I really want t'talk t'him right now. Feelin' a bit..."

"Angry?"

"Abandoned?"

"Flustered?"

"Rattled?"

"Forgotten?"

Your head volleyed between the two, nodding, "You two are scary perceptive. Yes to all, but for what it's worth, this is a helluva consolation celebration."

"Cheers to that," Ted beamed, hoisting his glass over the table. You and Beard followed, "To Sunshine! And her shiny new job! We're real proud of you and can't wait to see what you do!" He looked to Beard pointedly.

"To our friend - the very best of us."

Three glasses clinked together.

"Thanks, youuuu guys - ugh, such sweetie-peaties!" You sang, arm slung over Beard's shoulder as he and Ted walked you to your front door; the taxi idling on the street, your home being too far to walk from the restaurant. "I could've gotten to the doooooor."

"Uh-huh," Ted chuckled when you stumbled, "and miss the chance to see where y'all live?"

"Why? Need home decor inspiration?" You teased. "Ah, fuck," you glared at your keys, "why do I have so many!?"

"'Cause you're big and important," Beard reminded you, earning a giggle of agreement.

"I gotcha, gimme that," Ted mused as Beard supported you upright. "All righty, let's see here - nope, not that one... Uh, this one? No, no... This one! Aha!" The door swung open to a dark home, Coach Ted Lasso mentioning, "Huh, guess the guys are still out."

"Fuck 'em."

"Atta girl," Beard mused, "step carefully, there you go. Easy, easy." They helped you into your home, letting you drop tiredly on the couch. "I got the leftovers," Coach Beard mentioned, moving into your kitchen as Ted propped your feet to the cushion and unlaced your heels.

"Hey, you still awake, girlie?" He shook your knee.

"Mh," he earned a grumble and swatted hand.

Ted couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "All right, well, I'm settin' your alarm, okay? Rebecca said she'll meet with yah tomorrow - so, don't you worry."

"Mmmh, but woooooork," you groaned.

"Uh-huh. Who should I text 'bout that? Don't think you're makin' it in tomorrow, sunshine."

You grumbled unintelligibly, Beard returning. "I got it," he plucked your phone from Ted's grasp. "Siri, text Sully: Won't be in tomorrow, will explain later, love you."

As Ted covered you with a throw blanket, the phone beeped to indicate the message was sent. "Y'all, like, secret best friends or somethin'?" He snickered with shock. Beard shrugged. "Well, now that's just dangerous," Ted continued, "can use anyone's phone to do anything, huh?"

"Eh," Beard shrugged again, leaving your phone on the coffee table and ushering Ted out. They felt bad about leaving your door unlocked, but figured Roy would be home soon enough - considering the time of night and his position as captain. He was usually more responsible than this...

The taxi had just pulled around the corner when Roy's car pulled in; oblivious to the pain he caused via his empty pockets, phone forgotten in his cubby. It had been a particularly good day where everything alined properly during training - which put the whole team on a high - prompting Issac to recommend they go celebrate. Ted thought it was a great idea for bonding; loving that the team had grown together as of late and encouraged any activity or amount of time outside the Richmond facility as possible.

He didn't know until later he should've reminded Roy of his promise to meet you for dinner and drinks before they left... But the Captain's relationship wasn't the Coach's responsibility.

Still minimally tipsy, Roy rushed for the front door with the intention of cuddling you until morning, nearly stumbling in; not expecting it to be unlocked. However, he slowed his roll when he spotted you on the couch; dead asleep, heels left on the floor, work bag leaning against the coffee table, and in the kitchen, bouquets of flowers on the counter. He knew you loved florals and often decorated with fresh blooms so this wasn't abnormal and didn't so much as tickle a memory. Roy just bent at the waist to kiss your forehead, rummage in your purse for your phone charger, plug it in, then stumbled off to bed. For the past three months, it was common to find you passed out on the couch - so this, too, wasn't a flag in his mind.

Roy wasn't usually so oblivious or forgetful, but as Dani Rojas says: fútbol is life. And sometimes, football distracted even the great Roy Kent.

By the time he woke the following morning, he wasn't near hungover but found water and tablets on the side table you preemptively left. He half expected you to be cuddled into his side, but the bed was still made - indicating you hadn't crawled in whenever you woke up. Grumbling, Roy made it downstairs only to discover the living room empty and cleaned up, but found a note on the kitchen counter.

Eat the leftovers so they don't go to waste

No signature, no drawn heart you usually attached, nothing sentimental or affectionate to your words. He tried not to think much of it, but in truth, Roy felt anxious about your lack of decoration or pet name; checking for his phone but after being unable to locate it, figured he must've left it at work. With a growl, he got ready and headed out; not liking his days that didn't start with you but tried to ride the high from yesterday. It didn't work.

When Roy entered the facility, he was surprised to see you at the far end of the hall, walking towards him in stride with Rebecca, chatting. "Hey, darlin'," he greeted, earning a glare from the owner of the team and not even a single glance from you. "Oi? Why aren't you at work? The fuck's goin' on? You were gone before I got up, could've drove together if I knew you were comin' - "

"We're busy, Kent, and you need to get moving," Rebecca snapped, looking to whatever you were showing her on your phone after; matching stilettos clacking through the hall as the pair passed him by.

"The fuck?" Roy muttered, brows furrowed in angry confusion; not understanding what he did to deserve such treatment. You next to never gave him the silent treatment or cold shoulder, so this felt alarming. "Baby! Hey! Did somethin' happen? C'mon, doll, talk to me!" He watched you disappear around the corner, growling to himself. He stormed down the hall, making several club attendants leap out of his warpath.

"Woah," Sam shied out of the way when a fuming Roy came barging into the locker room. "You all right, Captain? Ah, is it because Y/N couldn't make it last night? Didn't you see her? She's here today! She looks very pretty - "

"Captain," Beard snapped before Roy could respond, standing stoically in the doorway of his office; arms crossed. "Change of plans. Get in here."

Roy bared his teeth and begrudgingly followed Beard into the office where Nate and Ted were trying to look busy - but failing as they were obviously listening. "What's up, Coach?" Roy grit, not in the mood for any more shit now that he knew you were obviously pissed - at him.

"You're not gonna be part of training today," Beard snipped with a glare, feet lifting to cross on his desk.

"Come again?"

"You're gonna run laps the whole time." When Roy opened his mouth, Beard snapped, "No, it's not up for discussion. Now go. Get out, get ready."

"The fuck's up with everyone today?" He snarled, shaking his head and returning to his locker. With vigor, he searched for his phone - finding it locked in the cubby - dead. "Fuck's sake," he scoffed, glancing beside him to Sam. "Got a charger, mate?"

"Oh, uh, no, my phone is fully charged every night," Sam winced. "Richard might."

It took Roy a few minutes, but eventually Colin pulled his charger out and Roy left his phone plugged in on Ted's desk; changing for that day's session, stalking out of the locker room behind the rest of the team. On the pitch, the others began warming up - but Beard was glaring behind his sunnies directly at Roy, waiting for him to get going.

"You fuckin' serious?" Roy barked.

"Go. I wanna see knees-to-chest," Beard grit, arms crossing as Ted and Nate were to the side; talking quietly as if to avoid interfering with Beard's plan.

With a heavy sigh, Roy pivoted on his toes and started at a jog - earning several harsh blows of Beard's whistle to, "pick up the pace, knees-to-chest, remember!?". It was brutal on Roy's joints and lungs, his kit soon drenched in sweat from the prolonged exertion; the only real saving grace being Nate's offered sports drink each time he made his rounds. The longer he ran, the more time he had to mull over possible reasons for this punishment - but his mind was so jumbled with anger that he couldn't think straight.

His gaze often lifted towards the windows of Rebecca's office; seeing her figure, your's, Keeley's, and Higgins' all milling around at different intervals. He missed each time you paused at the window to watch him run those horrid laps.

When Ted blew the whistle that signaled the end of practice, Roy grunted as his legs turned to jelly to land on his chest in the grass. He was exhausted in body and mind; heaving for breath, letting Issac and Dani pick him up by the arms to sling around their shoulders. His feet dragged as they moved slowly, face contorted in pain; your glare lessening with sympathy from the areal advantage the longer you watched.

"You all right, babe?" Keeley asked, joining you at the window.

"I know I'm pissed - "

"Rightfully," Rebecca nodded from her desk.

"But fuck's sake, look at him," you sighed, hands slapping to your thighs. "Think that was punishment enough, Coach worked him pretty hard."

"He deserves it," Keeley scoffed.

"Right, right, right," your eyes rolled. "Rebecca, think I could pick your brain about a few things now? I'm sorry I took up all this time to complain."

"You needed to vent," Higgins spoke softly, "and this is a safe space."

"He's right," Keeley smiled with encouragement, "know we're all here for you, babes."

"Right, yeah," you cleared your throat, not entirely used to the supportive nature they've all adopted since hiring Ted Lasso. "But, uh, I do kinda need to speak with Miss Welton - not that I don't adore yours and Leslie's input, but it's kinda her wheelhouse."

"Oh, of course!" Keeley agreed, ushering Higgins out; all three ladies ignoring the dejected expression he wore over not being included in whatever matter you needed Rebecca's private ear for.

"Could I get you a refill?" Rebecca offered as you dropped to her couch with a sigh.

"Please," you agreed, letting her take your teacup. When she joined your side, she questioned what more you needed from her. "With this new position, I'm feelin' a bit insecure about my attitude towards the people I've worked beside for years. I mean, now I'm the big boss and that's just intimidatin' and a bit confusin'. Plus I'm worried about how I'll be received by the men I'll be surrounded by; also about now, with all this added responsibility, how I leave work at work and not bring it home. So I was wondering if I could pick your brain 'bout those bits. I mean," you took a small sip of tea, "you're the baddest bitch I know, figured there's nobody better to ask - pardon my language."

"No, no, I quite like it," she smirked, leaning into the back sofa cushions. "I'd steer clear of foul language around men, though; they tend to shy away from women with mouths."

"Not in my experience," you chuckled, earning a small snort from her. "Sometimes I feel like I'm only heard when I curse, partly blame Roy for that one."

"Oh, yes, that too - but don't let them rile you up to that point. It'll give them the wrong impression."

"What's the right impression?"

"Strong and capable," she smirked, sipping from her own cup. "Mh," she hummed with a broad smirk, "and just so you know, for future reference, I'm much more inclined to agree to you directly rather than Ted or Beard."

Downstairs, Keeley and Higgins paused at the bottom of the stairs to watch Roy basically be dragged into the locker room - sharing a knowing look and taking pity. "Think we should say something?" Keeley asked.

"Probably, there's the possibility of this turnin' violent," Leslie sighed, the two entering; discovering Roy had been deposited under the cold stream of water in the showers. They were given an opening to scamper into the manager's office and shut the door.

"Well, hi there! Just the two people I wanted to see come through that door! Well, that's a lie, I was hopin' for Sonny and Cher, but hey! This is even better!" Ted grinned, placing his phone down. "What do we own this pleasure? Oh! Is this is a Diamond Dogs situation?"

"Kinda, yeah," Higgins nodded, sharing a look with Keeley. Luckily, all Dogs were already present; but the Coaches and kitman still did their silly little howl.

"All right!" Ted beamed, drumming on his desk. "Whatcha got for us, Higgy, and honorary Pup?"

Keeley preened at the title while Higgins asked carefully, "Are you aware of what transpired between Roy and Y/N?"

"Oh," Ted glanced at a glowering Beard, "yes, uh, we are very much aware."

"Is that why you made him run laps all day?" Keeley asked pointedly yet with amusement.

"That was all him," Ted pointed at Beard; eyes wide like saucers. "Yeah, uh, you know, we might've... Might've let our emotions get the better of us this time."

"He deserves to be punished," Beard growled, staring at a single place on the floor.

"What's that, now?" Keeley asked in clarification. "Well, look, we ask 'cause she's upstairs with Rebecca, all kinds of upset. I mean, shit! She's the youngest woman to take over this type of position and her own boyfriend stood her up when they were meant to celebrate the news? I mean," she scoffed, looking around the men, "what the fuck is that shit!?"

"Yeah," Ted sighed, "Beard and I met her for dinner last night. Guessing Roy left his phone here..." He glanced at the device on his desk.

"She called you?" Higgins asked Ted.

"She called me," Beard answered stiffly, "wonderin' where Roy was. She worried he was hurt or something happened."

"Right, well, she's feelin' a bit better," Keeley nodded. "So, uh, maybe one of you could clue Roy in so they can hurry up and make up. Him bein' this oblivious isn't doin' nobody any favor."

"Nothing's really in order if those two are at odds," Higgins nodded nervously. "I mean, we all remember their last fight."

"Oh, God, yeah, that was brutal," Keeley winced.

"Roy came in and immediately headbutted Jamie so hard, it broke his nose," Nate recalled with a grimace. "I know he's a prick, but even Jamie didn't deserve that..."

"Yeah... Yeah, that was real bad," Ted agreed, sighing. "All right, yeah, I'll tell him what's up when he's done showerin'."

"Might be awhile," Nate winced, "he was in pretty bad shape comin' off the pitch."

"Good," Beard snarled quietly, crossing his arms tighter and glaring harder at the floor.

"Right, well," Keeley cleared her throat, "remember, she's upstairs. Yeah?"

"We got it, Kee-Bee," Ted nodded, eyes shifting over Beard. "You'll have to excuse Coach Beard - he and Y/N are apparently secret best friends and he's taking this hard."

"As he should," Keeley smiled, patting Beard's shoulder. "Good call makin' him run so much."

"Thank you," he preened at the praise.

The two coaches (and Nate) remained in the office even after all the players vacated. Out of worry, Ted asked Nate to check on Roy, who reported he was still in the shower; the trio waiting patiently, letting the kitman draw out new plays for them to discuss. At long last, Roy emerged from the showers with a distinct limp, pausing at his locker to finish drying off and dressing; giving the guys just enough time to mutter their final plan of action.

"Hey, Cap'n!" Ted called happily when Roy straightened with his usual duffel in hand. "C'mere a second, would'jah, please?"

He glared through the window, sighed, then slowly limped into the doorway. "What now?" He grit, "More laps?"

"Nah, nah, nah - oh, well, speaking of, that was some real nice hustle today," he tried to compliment. "I was impressed!"

"Fuck the both of you for it, can't feel my fuckin' calves and my knee's fucked. You fuckin' satisfied?"

"Right," Ted cleared his throat, Beard's jaw clenching. "Well, uh, there's actually a reason for your... Um..."

"Punishment," Beard provided stiffly.

"Why? Because the lads went out last night?"

"Actually, kinda, yeah," Ted leaned back in his chair. "Uh, Roy, I wanna apologize for makin' you run all them laps all day, but honestly, Coach Beard and I wanted you to hurt."

"The fuck did I do!?" Roy snapped, glaring at his coaches. "Everyone's been fuckin' weird today; and now you're punishing me for some shit I don't even know - "

Ted startled when Beard jumped to his feet and rounded on the Great Roy Kent, snatching his phone off Ted's desk to shove it into his chest. "You stood her up," he growled through clenched teeth.

"What?" Roy's head shook, doing a double take at his lit phone screen; quickly scrolling through the barrage of texts and voicemails from you.

"Last night... You were supposed to meet Y/N at Bordeaux's to celebrate her promotion - but instead, you went out with the team. Any other day, we'd make you run laps for skipping out on something like that, but yesterday, it came at that sweet girl's expense. She called me, asking after you - concerned you were hurt! You left her - alone - for hours - so Coach Lasso and I met her instead."

"Any of this ringin' a bell, Roy?" Ted wondered from his desk, watching the glow of his phone shine light on Roy's growing realization.

"FUCK!" Roy bellowed, neck veins straining and bulging. Beard nodded in approval as the Captain turned and rushed as best he could out of the locker room.

"She's with The Boss in her office!" Ted called helpfully after him.

When Beard turned, his angry expression had dropped and shrugged, "We'll give him tomorrow off to make up for today."

"Yeah, I was thinkin' the same," Ted snickered. "Think they're gonna be okay?"

"Oh, yeah, they have to be," Nate nodded, "those two are made for each other. He could kill her cat and she'd be the one to comfort him."

"That's... Not healthy," Ted cocked his head.

"But the sentiment is understood," Beard ended.

Roy charged from the locker room like a man on a mission, but hesitated at the stairs leading to Rebecca's office as if it were Everest. He was determined, though, not to disappoint you again; trying to climb without bending his knees - proving damn near impossible. He was grunting with strain, panting even as his body protested to the three-stair climb he managed; but his saving grace, as usual, came in the form of you suddenly appearing at the top with Rebecca.

You barely had time to process the sight before Roy was gritting, "No, no, just listen - please, don't ignore me again. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I absolutely forgot about our date last night and fucked this up, hurt you, left you waiting in worry - I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, doll, please, I swear, I'll even swear on Phoebe’s head, but you gotta believe me. It's no excuse, nothing ever could be, but... My explanation is I just got so in my head and fucking forgot - "

"Well, you shouldn't've! But please, pray tell how the hell you managed to forget? Did you suddenly pick-up American football, got a concussion?" Rebecca snarled in a defensively clipped tone. "What kind of a man stands up his own girlfriend!? Forgets about a date he arranged? Forgets about her on one of the most important days of her life? I mean, just look at her! She's fuckin' fit! She's not someone that anyone should, could, or would forget!"

"I fuckin' know all that, Rebecca," Roy growled, stationed on the third stair still, "and I'm trying to fuckin' apologize to my lady - not hear a play-by-play of my colossal fuck up from my boss! I know what happened, I'm the one who did this."

As Roy grimaced in pain, hand gingerly going to rub his trick knee, Rebecca shot back, "One of the consequences of fucking up is never living it down and to be reminded and guilted for it - "

Your hand flew to Rebecca's bicep in a silent request she stop talking once you noted Roy coddling his knee. "Holy shit, are you hurt?" You interrupted in worry, sharing a guilty look with Rebecca; both aware how running effected the footballer. She nodded and pet your shoulder, letting you hustle down the stairs to meet him in order to hash out this predicament. Though she loved you, Rebecca recognized it wasn't her place to interfere with your relationship(s) "Is it your knee again? Oh, for fuck's sake, Roy - "

"Doesn't matter, what matters is my apology."

"Yes, yes, I've heard you," you snipped, glancing up at the platinum blonde woman; earning a thumbs up before she disappeared to give you a lick of privacy. "Roy... I know this sport is your fuckin' life and normally I'd never complain - but how the fuck could you forget me?"

"'Cause I'm a fuckin' arsehole."

"Well, yeah, but - "

"Like I was saying before, there's no excuse, baby," he frowned, supported by the wall behind him; you facing him on the step, leaning on the railing. "Just - yesterday went real well, right?" You nodded slowly. "The lads were hyped, it was a good day and I guess I got swept up in the energy. Issac proposed goin' out as a team without the coaches and we all just rolled with it. I fuckin' forgot I was t'meet you... And I'm so fuckin' sorry. I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart, but that doesn't change the fact I fucked up and hurt you."

"Well, like Rebecca said, what kinda man does this sort of shit to the woman he loves?"

"A complete fucking bellend who doesn't deserve his lady."

You shrugged meekly, "Hm, I had a more colorful and vulgar term in mind, but bellend works. But you know what? At the end of the day, being angry doesn't do any good, so it's o - "

"Don't you dare say it's okay, 'cause it's fuckin' not!"

"Okay, know what? You're absolutely right, it's not okay that you stood me up! That you forgot me, forgot what yesterday meant to me; that you got swept up in the energy of a good day at my expense! In truth, having good days on the pitch is much more common than getting a promotion! Mhm, yeah," your eyes narrowed at his surprised expression, "that's right, I got the job and all I wanted to do was share it with you..."

"You got the job," he whispered, "officially? Seriously?"

"Fuck yeah, I did! Youngest female president! You were supposed to be one of the first persons I told, but now it feels like you're the last. I called and texted you all fucking night, could've at least done the decent thing and communicate with your girlfriend where you were going, date or no - "

"I left my phone in the locker and it died. Swear on Phoebe."

"Don't bring her into this, and it doesn't negate from the fact that you should've been there with me - whether you had your phone or not! I'm not saying put me above your career - I would never - but I expect you to respect me and contribute to our relationship! God, it was so mortifying just sitting there alone for 2.5 hours! It felt like everyone could tell I was being stood up - they were pitying me, Roy! I need you to be more present, Roy, I can't date myself anymore, I can't do one-sided effort; I've been as understanding and flexible as I can, but you gotta meet me halfway. But whatever, it happened, nothing can change that - we can only learn from it - but I hear your apology, so... Fuck it, it is okay; it's fine. Beard and Teddy met me, actually; we had a nice night so it wasn't a total waste."

"Should've been different," he snapped, "should've been me."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"I'm so fuckin' sorry, love. I didn't meant to hurt you - it's the last thing I ever want to do."

"Well... I saw what Coaches made you do all day," you pouted your bottom lip dramatically, "my poor Lightning McQueen."

"Fuckin' deserved it."

"You really did," you agreed, grabbing him by the leather lapels and yanking him straight; releasing a muffled grunt of discomfort. "But I think runnin' that many laps is punishment enough and made you feel as bad as I did last night. So, c'mon, I'm tired of being angry, let's just move forward and get you home to an ice bath."

"Nah, we're redoing yesterday - we're goin' out. You wearin' another matching set?"

You scoffed with a small chuckle, shaking your head, "Roy, you're in no shape to go out, let alone have sex."

"I'm in pristine fuckin' shape."

"Oh, yeah? All right, fine, we'll go out if you can just walk down these three steps - "

"Fuck off," he grit, "we're redoin' last night, no discussion."

"Fine, but we're goin' home, can cook for me if you want," you shook your head. "Don't think it'll be a very good look for either of us t'be seen in public with you like this, hey? They'll start gossiping 'bout your retirement." He growled and let you get under his arm, one arm anchoring his wrist dangling over your shoulder and the other coiled around his waist. As you attempted to conqure the stairs, you quietly encouraged with strain from his weight, "Easy, easy, there you go... A-All right, sure, I guess that's one way to get downstairs... Oi, hey, careful! C'mon, bend your fuckin' knees, Roy!"

"I fuckin' can't!"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," you laughed, "they really fucked you up today, huh?"

"'Cause they fuckin' adore you and were rightfully pissed."

"Good," you mused, now behind him on the stairs to aid his unbalance. "Though I'm unsure how to feel about my boyfriend's coaches adoring me more than my actual boyfriend."

"Oi! Don't say or ever think that bullshit. That's not ever fucking possible," Roy snapped, eyes wild and ablaze in offense, "nobody adores you more than me - I just fucked up but I'm trying to rectify it."

Once on flat ground, you remained on the first step, speaking softly, "Hey..." Roy turned to you; the height difference letting your arms wrap around his neck, his hands seizing the meat of your hips. "Please don't do that again. It was... Nothing short of humiliating sitting there alone on a date you set up."

"I know, baby," he sighed, "and I'll be apologizing even after it stops botherin' yah. I can't promise I won't fuck up again, but I'll never stand you up again, doll. I'll tattoo every fuckin' date of ours on my body if I have to."

You caressed his cheek, "Not necessary. Just don't forget me again, please. That... Really fuckin' sucked. But fútbol is life and the consolation company was top tier, so, I guess I shouldn't complain."

Roy sighed and let his head drop to your sternum, giving you a tight squeeze. "Nah, fuckin' do what Rebecca said: never let me forget what the fuck I did or let me live this down."

"You'll regret that - know I'm gonna bring it up every fight."

"Which is why we're never gonna fight again, you've already fuckin' won 'em all."

"Oh, I quite like the sound of that," you teased, fingers sliding under his jaw to perk his head up. "Hey... I forgive you."

"Don't - not just yet. Gotta let me make it up to you first. But I just need us to be good."

You shrugged, "Nah, we're good, sweetheart." You tightened your arms in an embrace, pecking the top of his head. "You know, grudges ages you and you know how serious I am about my skincare and my feelings on wrinkles. But if you wanna spoil me until your guilt lessens, I won't stop you. Just not a new car, I'm gettin' a company Mercedes."

"Good, all right, yeah, noted," he smirked, "'cause I'm gonna lay it on fuckin' thick; thicker than Tart's ego."

"Maybe worry 'bout your knees first, Casanova," you winced. Roy growled and pulled back, reaching for your hand to hold as you hopped down the step to his side. You easily wrangled his keys from his pocket, snipping, "Yeah, you're not driving - can't even bloody walk, my poor boy. I'll get you out of tomorrow, you need the rest."

"Hm," Roy growled. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably run a normal amount? Have a proper trainin' session?"

"Sounds miserably boring."

"Then what's all this, then?"

"Love," he grunted, keeping you under his arm as he shoved the facility doors open to the carpark.

requesting rules and masterlist

[demonic0angel]

I've been playing Dredge lately and had a thought:

Danny, a small seaside town's best fisherman, and his babies, Eldritch Dani and Dan, who prefer to live underwater and come up to see their dad, who goes out fishing every day.

His nets are always full, and his boat never encounters any problems. He always steers true, never goes off course, and keeps finding old sunken treasure in his haul.

Everyone in town knows Mr. Nightingale, and his boat sailing by becomes a sort of good omen for the folk of nearby towns. He always leaves on his own, comes back with his hold full, and two small children, which weren't in the boat in the morning, go running into town with their father at their heels. Then they all go to the beach at sunset, the children dive under the last big waves, just before the sun goes down, and twin masses of glowing lights swim into the distance, waiting for their father to go meet them again the next day.

It's good like that. The town prospers, the fish are good and plentiful for just having one or two fishermen go out every day, and the little family gets to live in a community that won't question their origins.

It's when one hero (whichever, Bat, Lantern, Martian or Super, whatever you prefer) in particular gets shot out of the air and washes into Mr. Nightingale's nets that questions start being asked, most importantly, where is the children's mother, and did Mr. Nightingale get intimate with the personification of the sea, like in Ponyo?

Extra: I know the favorite of the fandom is to ship Danny and a Bat, or a Super or Flash, or even Sam and/or Tucker.

But what if, in his late teens, Danny went off to learn from other Ghosts, met the ghostly embodiment of the ocean? They spent a few years being intimate, enough that they hosted Dani and Dan's unstable cores until proper maturity was reached, got two darling little ones out of the deal, and whenever Danny sails into the horizon, he goes to meet his partner in their own element, spends his time with them and comes back with gifts from his spouse, nets full of fresh fish, and gets the children for the rest of the day, so they can grow up in both worlds. They meet up at night at the beach so the little ones can play on the sand while their parents spend a few hours cuddling and watching the sunset.

Ooh, this sounds so interesting! Something about Danny being in love with an oceanic being sounds so ethereal? Like space and the deep sea, y’know? Two mysterious, deep places with hidden depths that humans cannot fully reach.

Not only does this remind me of Ponyo, but it also reminds me of the Pirates of the Caribbean (in a way), where two lovers are separated by sea and land. On that note, we could make Danny marry Davy Jones.

I have nothing to add, but I do think it would be funny if Danny was a hermit with a mysterious past and heroes start coming to his little sea port to ask for old, sage hero advice.