#fic: the archer

[daughter-of-melpomene]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAISLEY HARLOW!!

DC Comics OC — born May 11th, 2000

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic,

@artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand,

@ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon,

@fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs,

@lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag.

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 7/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man—Charles, Max assumes—sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[caramara3]

Just Friends...? a Damian Priest x OC fic [1]

Damian Priest x Reader Imani Cove

Summary: The rules are simple: no feelings, no strings, just sex. But can it ever truly be that simple when the lines begin to blur??

Warnings: Plot, Slow Burn, Angst, Language, mature sexual content 18+, OFC, fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

**Partially Edited and Proofread**

**Interactive**

Notes: Thank y'all so much for reading!! Leave a comment, heart, share, and enjoy the ride!!!

Italic writing signifies an inside thought.

Playlist for fic

Chapter 1: The Morning

~Morning after Backlash Puerto Rico~

“Uugh… oww.”

You groaned softly and shifted your body, immediately regretting that decision. You were used to a little soreness and tension after a match, especially one as rough as last night’s Last Woman Standing match against your current feud partner Shayna Bazler, but Lord did this hurt. Every single muscle in your body felt as if they had been individually jabbed with a tiny needle while also being set on fire. Your back felt like you’d been thrown through plexiglass over a dozen times. You made a solid mental note to have your chiropractor “thank” Shayna for keeping him in business.

“Ow… oww… argh, ow!”

You winced at each small movement while opening your eyes, only to be met with a soft but heavy material. You go to pull it from over your head and was immediately met with the morning sun shining its insanely bright ass through your hotel window.

“Ah, oh God! Absolutely not!”

You grimaced and pulled the material back over your face, sinking deeper and deeper into your fluffy fortress as you waited for the throbbing pain in your head to subside. 

Great, you thought. Sore and hungover: the perfect combo. 

You laid your head flat against the mattress as you tried to somewhat remember the events of last night, but as you did everything felt like a jumbled and confusing blur…

Tequila is an evil bitch from the depths of hell…

You remember leaving the arena and catching a ride with Zelina back to the hotel. You remember getting ready with her to go out for the night. 

You remember, even though you didn’t want to, the fight you had on the phone with your lying, cheating, bastard of an EX-fiance Marcus about him getting his things out of your house before you were back from Puerto Rico. 

You remember getting to the club late and immediately having shots pushed in your face, a thought that made you nauseous as if you could still smell the Don Julio. 

You remember getting pulled onto the dancefloor by… was it Cruz?? No it was Finn.

Or maybe it was Santos. 

Knight??

You remember seeing Rhea arrive with Dominik, Finn, and JD. More shots.

You remember the DJ was on one causing he was playing banger after banger after banger. 

You didn’t see him come in with everyone but remember seeing your friend Damian Priest sitting over in a corner by himself. You had practically pulled his giant six-foot-five onto the dancefloor, laughing at his insane dance moves.

More shots.

But wait, was this before JD stepped on your foot while you were trying to teach him how to salsa??

Or after Rhea and you got felt up by some random local while waiting at the bar and having to hold back the guys from kicking the guys ass??

More dancing. Dancing on the small stage with Zelina and Bayley. 

Dancing with Damian again.

Getting cheered on in the girls room as you flushed your engagement ring down the toilet.

Even more dancing. 

Shots. Shots. Shots. 

Ugh, god why did I let Rhea keep feeding me all those damn shots? I swear I’m gonna kill her the next time I see her. But how did I get back to my room?  

You remember a touch. Or at least it felt like a touch. An electric energy tenderly brushing against your skin, traveling up your spine. You remember a warm feeling softly pressing itself against your neck, then to your shoulder, your collarbone, your breasts, down your stomach.

A voice, deep and foreboding, breathlessly whispering nothings in your ear as you…

“Ugh.”

You push the memory away and rub your temples, as for the first time you feel the after effects of your hangover. A wave of nausea washed over you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten this drunk. Yes you did, it was yours and Marcus’ one-year anniversary. He had booked this gorgeous resort in Tulum for the two of you with a private pool. One night the two of you had gotten so tipsy that you ended up back in the room, jumped in the pool with all your clothes, and then…

At that thought, your eyes went wide. You could feel your heart drop down into your stomach.

Oh. Oh god no…

You lifted up the side of the ivory comforter to glance over the edge onto the floor and saw clothes strewn across it.

No, no, no. Imani please tell me you didn’t…

The nausea was beginning to creep up again. You knew you had to look, but you didn’t want to. After a few moments and several deep breaths, you had psyched yourself up the best that you could. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding and slowly lifted the comforter and gazed down at your body.

Fuck.

It was bad enough that you were as naked as the day you came into the world, but from the looks of things you had a great time last night. Your eyes followed the trail of small purple marks that decorated your lower half; one along the inside of your breast, one hiding just under your left nipple, one above your collarbone, two or three up the side of your hip bone just near your tattoo, and then several decorating all along your inner thighs.

What the fuck Imani? WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?

You ignore your body practically screaming at you to be still and move to a seated position in the bed, hand raised to shield you from any amount of sunlight before you. A soft hiss leaves your mouth as you feel your bare back press itself against the cold wooden headboard. On instinct you grab the sheet from the bed and pull it up to cover your body. 

Oh, now we wanna be modest. A little too late for that!!

Looking to your left you find your phone charging on the nightstand alongside your iPad and glasses. You do a quick lookover of the room, breathing a small sigh of upon realization that you were in fact in your hotel room.

Now in fairness, after several years traveling on the road there gets a point where all the hotel rooms start to blend together. But thankfully you knew this one was yours. Your gym bag and ring gear from Backlash had been laid out on the couch before you left, your laptop was sitting open on the desk just as you left it, makeup and hair products were sprawled out on the dresser, and you could see both your lavender carry-on and backpack tucked away in the corner.

What you did notice that wasn’t there when you had left was the trail of clothes on the floor starting from the door and ending towards the foot of the bed.

You also couldn’t help but notice the shiny, reflective, OPEN foil packet placed almost mockingly on the ground at the foot of the bed.  

This wasn’t like you, you’re not that kind of girl. In fact you’re a good girl. You’ve never even gotten so much as a damn speeding ticket! You don’t hook up with random strangers and you damn sure don’t hook up with them while on a goddamn work trip in another country!

Through all the emotional and mental chaos happening in your mind, you felt a sense of heaviness stretched across your pelvis. For the first time since waking up you noticed the very large, very muscular, and very tatted bicep across your stomach. Soft snores filled the quiet room, like a faint rasp blending seamlessly with the stillness of the moment. 

You gulped and turned to your right. A rather large figure laid on the opposite side of you, face completely engulfed in the warmth of hotel linen.  

Mr. Rando was still here, sleeping peacefully next to you.

Shit Imani, really? You’ve been newly single for all of three days and you decide to celebrate by hooking up with some random guy in Puerto Rico?!?!

You quickly shook your head at your manic thoughts. When you moved your hand to the blanket you heard a low grumble that stopped you dead in your tracks. The body shifted and turned over to the other side, their back facing you, before settling after a few seconds. You froze and waited for a few seconds to see if he was awake. You hadn’t the slightest idea what you would say to if he were. You weren’t exactly knowledgeable in the area of one-night stands. Do you start with a “hi” or “thanks for the sex, now get out of my room?” Like, what was the standard practice here??

Once you were absolutely sure he was still asleep you gripped the blanket and slowly pulled it away until the whole of his back was revealed to you. You gasped loudly and practically jumped up off the bed and right onto the plush carpeted floor with a heavy thud.

“Ah, son of a bitch!” you shrieked, wincing at the pain of the impact.

But you ignored it as your eyes peered over the edge of the mattress back at the body on the bed that was beginning to arouse. He groaned and moaned and stretched his body out as if he’s just been awoken by true love’s kiss. You couldn’t move, all you could was sit there on the carpet buck naked like a weirdo watching him. He sat up and stretched again, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. You watched every single muscle on his back spasm and flex from the movement.

He moved to stand, revealing not just his extensive height and size, but all of his naked glory.

Damn, he really does have a nice ass…

But your eyes were fixated on the single giant piece of art in the center of his back etched into his skin. From afar it looked like a standard skull tattoo. But if you’d ever been up close and personal to it, you could see the inside art resembling that of a dark grim reaper. 

And you had been up close to fully view that grim reaper. Many times in fact. 

And why wouldn’t you?

After all, the two of you did work together...

As if realizing he wasn’t alone, you gasped when you saw his head turn and found your eyes peeking over the bed. A wave of confusion washed over his face, followed closely by the sudden realization of what you had figured out earlier.

“Holy shit,” he whispered softly. 

You slowly rose to your feet, grabbing the sheet off the bed to cover your body.

“Imani?”

Your eyes avoided his gaze the entire time, your voice soft and unsure as you spoke. 

“Hey Damian.” 

If you want to be tagged please send me an ask so I can keep track!!

TagList:

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[reddamselette]

valgrace except jason is an international superstar and prodigy in football and leo is known worldwide for his podcast who brings special guests on his shows like piper mclean who’s made a name for herself in historical dramas always in the lead of a warrior, architect annabeth chase who’s been granted the honor of rebuilding the temples and ruins in greece and rome with her olympic swimmer boyfriend percy jackson.

and by popular demand, the public requested jason grace to be on hephaestus’ forge. leo, always the good host, obliges and reaches out to jason.

what the audience doesn’t know is that leo and jason have known eachother for years, running in the same crowd during middle school and high school despite being interested in different things. like all close best friends, they parted ways due to university and internships across the country. but they parted with a kiss goodbye, a promise to one another that held up since they were young.

so when jason finally arrives onto the scene, leo feels everything rush back and now that the season is over, jason plans to stay in new york.

[isp-annafer]

Hey guys Hephaestus has glasses in the livestream animatic. I know its just for funsies (and also probably based on Jorge's dad, who was the singer), but you guys know what this means????

A possible canon explanation for Polites having glasses CAN be a 'gift of the gods' now, except not from Athena as some people have jokingly suggested. It can be from Hephaestus instead, lol.

(ALSO, recall how Hephaestus's brief argument was 'trust isn't given, it has to be forged', which can be an echo of Polites's philosophy, which was something like 'show trust, and be trusted in return'.

There's SOMETHING there that can be played with between two characters that didn't show up much in the musical. One more than the other.)

[hitrone]

hey hey hey i have something for you ;)

[moonlightspencie]

Help Me Hold on to You

Description: Ted and the reader struggle with balancing mental health and everyday life. (Based on The Archer by Taylor Swift)

Pairing: Ted Lasso x fem!Reader

Warnings: depictions of anxiety and panic

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: one of my all time favs that i’ve written (and, not to sound conceited, one of my favs in general bc it was super self-indulgent hehe). originally posted on tumblr. then dropped onto ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

“Hey, Y/N. Whatcha up to?” Ted burst into your shared office, a wide-eyed look on his face.

You shook your head with a smirk, “Just going over the last game, trying to figure out what we can do better next time.”

You paused the video on your laptop, shutting it and looking up to him expectantly. He pulled a chair up next to you, suddenly looking a little nervous.

“I know that look, Ted. What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, plastering on a smile. “Nothing.”

“You wouldn’t have come interrupting me unless you had something you wanted to talk about.”

His face dropped, nodding slowly. “I’m getting kind of sick of you reading me like a book, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

He chuckled, looking back at you. “Okay, guilty. Uh, I’m not sure how to address this, so I guess I better just come out and say it, huh?”

You nodded back at him, silent, but with a reassuring smile.

He clapped once. “So, uh, nobody really knows about this, but I’ve been dealing with some anxiety lately. I, uh— I don’t really want anyone knowing about it, so if you could…”

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse in a trap.”

He raised a brow. “Morbid.”

“My colloquialisms can’t be as silly and polished as yours, friend.”

He smiled. “Guess not. Don’t really have room in my head for ‘em right now, though.”

You shrugged. “That’s okay. I like you whether or not you’re acting like a landscaper’s favorite machine.”

He paused for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. Then, his face lit up.

“Chipper?”

You simply pointed at him with a wink.

“Nice,” he said with a smile. He looked back down to his hands, smile melting. “So, um, I guess I just wanted you to know. That was the reason I had to leave the game, actually. It wasn’t food poisoning, but it just seems easier to let people believe that, you know? But, anyway. You seem to be good with these kinds of things, and I just… I don’t know.”

“Sometimes it’s nice just to tell someone, yeah?”

He nodded with a small grin. “Rebecca’s seen it happen once, but I think that’s about it. I made an appointment to speak with the doc, but I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged, head shaking. “It’s bull.”

“Ted, you remember what you told me when I talked to you about my issues with trust?”

He raised a brow. “I told you nobody good would hurt you like…”

“You told me that all people are different people. You’ve said it a few times around me, I know you’ve told other people the same. And you know what?”

“What?” His brows sat raised.

“You need to start taking your own advice.”

“I don’t like when you do that.”

“Do what?” You laughed.

He chuckled with you. “When you’re right. I’m not supposed to be a quitter, either.”

“Not for the good things, anyway, huh?”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

He started standing, but you stood with him before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, there’s something I want you to know, too.”

“Shoot,” he said, gesturing for you to continue.

“I deal with anxiety, too. A lot, actually.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, now I am.”

“Don’t. I can cope, I just— I want you to know you’re not alone in this, okay? I get panic attacks, anxiety attacks, I deal with more minor symptoms pretty much every day. And you know what? It doesn’t make me any less of a person. Doesn’t make you, either.”

You saw the tears that began to prick his eyes, but decided to leave that situation alone. Instead, you pulled him in for a hug. He hugged back hard, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You heard him take a few shaky breaths before he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t ever apologize for vulnerability. Least not to me, cause I know exactly how you’re feeling and it’s okay. I promise,” you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

He smiled at you, trying to hold back from letting any more tears fall.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Ted. I do want you to try going back to doctor Sharon, though. She’s a good woman.”

He nodded, glancing at where your hand still held his own. He squeezed it again, then left you to get back to your work. You sat for a while, unable to focus on anything but what he’d told you. You hoped like hell he had really listened to you.

It wasn’t until the next day that you’d found he’d both listened to and simultaneously completely ignored you. You were walking down the hall from the office when you saw him.

“Hey,” you called out to him, both hands on his chest to stop him from moving when you got close enough. “Your appointment is supposed to be right now. What happened to—”

“I can’t do it.”

He grabbed one of your wrists, trying to move you. You refused to budge.

“No. Uh-uh. Why did you leave?”

“I’m not talking to someone who’s only there cause she’s paid.”

You raised a brow. “Excuse me, Lasso. Are you not getting paid to do your job?”

He huffed out a sigh.

“Don’t you get attitude with me,” you dropped your hands, but didn’t move from where you stood. “I gotta go, but you’re trying again tomorrow, you hear me?”

“Y/N—”

“You’re going. Non-negotiable.”

He dropped his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll try.”

You nodded once, a smile of victory on your face. “And by the way, I think Keeley’s smoking in the boot room. Might wanna see what that’s about, yeah?”

He tilted his head, a chuckle leaving him. You patted him on the shoulder as you passed to leave the building.

Your day from then on was a long one. You were running around with Beard for part of it, trying to work on strategy for the upcoming game against Man City. The whole Richmond team was on edge, and you were beginning to worry that the nervousness alone might end up being the end-all to the game. You were a firm believer that winning had as much to do with the power of the mind as the power of the body. If they were going in thinking they were going to lose— lose they would.

“That’s a little dramatic,” Beard said over his beer.

You rolled your eyes, sipping at your drink.

“It’s not. Same line of thinking as Ted’s ‘Believe’ sign. I’m just being a little more explicit about what I mean when I say it.”

He chuckled. “You two are more alike than I think you even realize, you know?”

“I think I realize.”

“Do you?”

You shrugged, nodding slightly.

“Both crazy about this team, and even more crazy about you,” you teased, flicking at the brim of his hat.

He hid a smile behind his glass. “Your never-ending optimism and knack for flattery is also pretty similar.”

You hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with ya, there.”

“So, what do you think we should do, then?”

You shrugged. “Find some way to cheer up the team. Get them excited for the game rather than scared of losing.”

He nodded, brows raised. “Any way of implementing that?”

“I’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You leaned back. “Remember that game against Kansas State? Our boys were so freaked about it all, then Ted did his thing and got them so excited to play…”

“Beat their asses.”

“Yeah, we did.”

You both went in for a quick high five before continuing.

“Remember how he did it?”

“Told ‘em they needed to loosen up. We had a dance party and ordered pizza.”

You smiled. “Yep. What do you say we make something like that happen again? Day before we travel, let’s do it.”

He smirked, a brow raised. “Sounds perfect. You gonna tell Ted?”

You shrugged. “I think he could use the surprise just as much as the players.”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

You put your hands up. “What’s that look about?”

He just shook his head silently.

“I’m not treating him any different.”

He raised a brow, sipping at his drink again.

“Ted’s been going through it lately, I just think he needs a little cheer up. Nothing else.”

He set down his drink, then sat up straight, eyes still trained on you.

“Quit lecturing me, Beard,” you chuckled. “I know you always think I have some thing for him, but why can’t it just be that I care about people, huh?”

“I see through it.”

You paused for a moment. “I hate that.”

He smirked, and you both finished eating.

You went home yourself, denying a walk-back from Beard. You appreciated the gesture, but the air was beginning to feel thick and suffocating. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like that.

As much as you tried pretending like the state of the team wasn’t affecting you, you knew that trying to be the fixer for this situation was weighing on you. More than you thought it would.

You tried swallowing, feeling your throat pretending to swell just to spite you. You rushed even faster towards your flat, feeling that the oncoming attack wasn’t going to be so routine.

As soon as you were in your door, your knees hit the floor, head between your arms on the carpet. You tried to control your breathing, but it was no use. Tears fell, though you’d hardly noticed as you’d refused to open your eyes. The bleariness you were bound to find if you opened them would only make the situation worse. You began to worry about passing out if you couldn’t control your breathing, and decided to roll yourself onto your side, whole body pushing through tremors you hadn’t felt in a few months, at least.

The ringing of your phone didn’t aid your situation. You desperately hoped it wasn’t an emergency, because there was no way you’d be able to make it over to where you’d dropped your purse. But, it kept ringing. Four separate calls over the span of probably half an hour.

It was another good half an hour after the calls had stopped before you were composed enough to open your eyes, and pull yourself into a sitting position on the ground. Though, you wouldn’t have known. Time never seemed to make any sense in those situations.

You worked on breathing in and out slowly, wiping away at any remaining tears. The shaking hadn’t yet ceased, but at least that was manageable. Right as you started trying to stand, you heard the loud buzzing of someone asking to be let in. You made it over, asking who was there.

“It’s me. Are you okay?” Ted’s voice came through.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Hang on,” you said, letting him in.

It wasn’t long before a knock was at the door, and you wished he wasn’t so quick. No amount of post-panic-primping in a fifteen-second slot could make you look presentable enough to get past him. You opened the door, putting on a smile and hoping he would be too preoccupied with something else to look directly at you for too long.

His face dropped the second he saw you, of course.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

He walked in, leaving you to close the door and follow him.

“No way, McConaughey. You can’t hide tears from me, I got eagle eyes for that sort of thing.”

You crossed your arms. “I’ve just had a long night.”

He watched you for a moment, picking up on the fact that you wouldn’t be sharing any time soon. He nodded slowly.

“Okay, that’s fine. If you don’t want to talk right now, that’s okay,” he smiled softly, then wrapped you in a tight hug.

You welcomed it, arms wrapping around his middle, head buried in his chest.

“You were honest with me,” you started after a moment, “so, I guess I should be with you. I just came down from a pretty bad panic attack. I couldn’t breathe, hardly made it home… I just—”

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing your back as he spoke. “We don’t have to talk about details. Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

“You always answer when I call. I knew something had to be up.”

“What if I was just in the shower?”

“You still always call me back right away. I had over an hour of radio silence from you.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had it down to such a science.”

He laughed back, pulling away from you just enough to see your face.

“There she is,” he said, a smile on his face.

“And she is a mess.”

“We all get a little messy sometimes, though, don’t we?”

You nodded. “Gotta agree with that.”

He looked at you for a moment or two with a soft smile on his face, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, especially since Beard was also on your ass about it, that was the moment you knew. You felt your heart rate pick up, and didn’t know what to do but escape. You stepped back, leaving him looking a little confused.

“I think I need some sleep, Ted.”

His eyes were wide, looking at you. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just need time alone, now. I need rest.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Uh, alright, well I will see you tomorrow bright and early, right?”

You nodded, giving him a quick smile.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.”

He nodded again, watching you with those big, worried eyes. You wished he would stop with that. He waved a quick goodbye, leaving you alone.

You settled into bed, though you were unable to sleep. You couldn’t stop thinking about the team. Or Ted. Or the fact that you couldn’t help but self-sabotage any chance you got. You wiped away a few stray tears, and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take over soon.

You woke up from a couple hours of sleep to a text. Of course, from Ted.

- Excited to see you today for coaches meeting :) I’m proud of you

You sighed, setting your phone down next to you. The guy didn’t seem to have a single mean bone in his body, and here you were wallowing in the fact that you couldn’t help but feel like you brought down everyone around you. As much as you tried to remain positive in every situation, you knew your mood affected the people around you whenever you were a little down in the dumps. You got up, hoping you could at least try to disguise it as well as possible for the day. At least for the morning.

You stopped to get coffee on the way in, delivering each drink with a smile. You sat next to Ted to watch the tapes, giving him the most convincing smile you could.

“You seem better today,” he said quietly, a smile on his face.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The next few days you were preoccupied with setting up the party for the team, and luckily it kept you busy enough to not fall back into the hole you’d had to crawl out of. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your ability to pull yourself out of the hardest places. Maybe it wasn’t always through the best methods, but you figured that doing what you needed to was working just fine. If it ain’t broke, after all.

“Howdy, howdy!” Ted chimed, walking in.

You shut your laptop quickly, still taking pride in the fact that you were successfully keeping the event from him.

He quirked a brow, nodding towards your laptop. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now. What’s up?”

He rubbed his hands together, leaning against your desk with a cheesy grin.

“Guess.”

“You got another jar of barbecue sauce?”

He laughed. “Yes, actually, but that’s not what this is all about, buttercup. It’s about you.”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

“Well, kinda,” he said with a light chuckle. “I’ve been seeing the doc a lot more frequently, now.”

You lit up. “Oh, I’m so proud of you!”

“You’ll be even more proud in a second. Get this, she actually said that she’s glad me and you are friends.”

You crinkled your nose, laughing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told her about all of your help over the past few sessions, and she told me to tell you, little lady, that I am lucky to have you.”

He nudged your shoulder as he ended the sentence, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice how you tried hiding a smile.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he finished out by saying, “I gotta say, I agree with her.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.”

He smiled again, hopping up to sit on your desk. “So, what are you up to?”

“You’ll find out later. Later today, actually.”

He raised his brows. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, “Mhm. I really think you’re gonna love it, too.”

He gasped, “Did you get me those funky shoes from Gucci I showed you the other day?”

“What?” You scrunched up your face. “No, of course not. Those things were horrible.”

He paused, as if to say something, before raising his brows and nodding in agreement.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?”

He dropped his shoulders. “Aw, come on. Telling me you have a surprise and not saying what it is… That’s worse than telling your dog you’re going on a walk then leaving him home.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“You’re right, that’s just evil. But you know I like to know things.”

You reached over, patting his knee. “I know, but I think you can survive til after practice.”

“Training,” he corrected.

“Ted, we’re both American. You don’t need to adjust your language with me.”

“See, that’s why I love talking to you,” he laughed, poking at your shoulder.

You shook your head, “Okay, now get out of here so I can finish up.”

“I’ll see you at practice, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, looking a little too pleased with himself for switching up his terminology.

You laughed. “See you there, coach.”

Beard walked in a while later, looking at you expectantly.

“Yes, I’m almost ready. Pizza will be here about ten minutes before we’re done, so I’ll excuse myself a little early, and I’ve got Keeley and Higgins doing some decorating in the locker room while we’re out.”

“You know my favorite thing about you?” He asked as he sat down in his seat.

“Fact that you don’t have to actually say anything to talk to me?”

He smirked, nodding. “Exactly.”

You both laughed, then sat back and waited for the boys to make it to the locker room. Ted came in, a big smile on his face as he did.

“Hey, there are two of my favorite people on this whole planet!”

“Still not telling you,” you said, giving a glance at Beard.

He only shook his head, going back to his book.

“Hey!” Ted exclaimed, pointing to Beard. “You know, too?”

“Know what?” Nate asked as he walked in.

You kept talking, “Keeley and Higgins, too. Oh, and Rebecca, actually, but she can’t be a part of it today.”

Ted glared at you as he went to his desk chair, Roy coming in behind him as he did.

“You talking about what Keeley told me she can’t tell me about?”

“Yep,” you responded, leaning back in your seat.

He grunted in response, arms crossing over his chest. You all worked on the game plan for ‘training’, then headed out with the team to get started on the last home practice before the big game. You knew nerves were high the whole time, and were all the more focused on making sure your little pizza party was a relief for everyone. You excused yourself to bring in the pizzas with your two accomplices, and then waited outside the door until the team came barging in. You heard shouts of approval from them all as they saw the decor and food, smiling as the work you’d done was starting to prove to be a good idea. Beard and Ted wandered in a moment after the last boy was in the locker room, a smile on Ted’s face as he heard them all.

“This the surprise?” He asked as he approached you.

You smiled, nodding. Beard moved past you to enter.

“Remember Kansas State?”

He raised his brows, smile only growing. “You didn’t.”

You nodded once more. “I did.”

He scooped you up in a hug, spinning you around.

“You are the best,” he said, setting you back down with a kiss to your cheek. Luckily, the smile on your face could easily be chalked up to the surprise paying off rather than the show of intimacy from your friend. “Well, come on, let’s shake a leg so I can shake some booty.”

You laughed at that, following behind him into the chaos.

“Hey!” He called out to everyone. “Y’all say thank you to Y/N for all this.”

A chorus of ‘thank you’s erupted, and you laughed as Ted pulled you into his side.

“Couldn’t have done it without Keeley and Higgins, y’all. They did all the decorating, I just recycled an old idea of coach, here.”

The team chuckled, then went back to celebrating as the music started.

He looked to you, eyes narrowed. “You’re being way too modest. This happened cause you put your heart and soul into this team.”

“I learned from the best, Lasso.”

He looked at you quietly, a small smile on his face, then shook his head. He pulled you into the small crowd, and you all spent the next couple hours letting loose before you had to check in with reality again.

The party seemed to have helped. Morale was up as you prepared for the game, and at minimum you knew that even if you still lost, they likely wouldn’t take it quite as hard. That helped your conscience, if anything.

One more thing that took a weight off of your shoulders was what happened before the game even started. Ted told the other coaches about his struggles with anxiety before the game. He came clean about it all, and you knew he felt good about finally letting it go to them. As the others started walking out, you held him back, making sure he knew just how proud of him you were.

“I wish I had your confidence.”

He patted your back. “But, you also love your privacy. That’s okay, you know? You also do a much better job holding it down than I do when it comes to this type of thing.”

You swallowed. “I’m not so sure about that. I know how to cope the best way I can, but I think it’s much more brave that you decided to open up to them about this.”

“Hey, don’t be hard on yourself about this,” he said, a hand on your shoulder. “Besides, I’m only doing okay right now cause I’m seeing the doc so often.”

“You saying I need to see someone about this?”

He shook his head. “No. You helped me realize that, for me, going to see her was what I needed. I hope in some way I can help you realize that you should do whatever is best for you. We’re all different people with different experiences, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Ted.”

You sighed. Leaning into his side for a moment, then broke away, clapping once.

“Okay, now let’s go win this.”

The game was lost, but everyone moved past it. You knew most of that was because of Ted and his affection for the goldfish attitude, though he tried like anything to convince you they wouldn’t be feeling so okay if it wasn’t for the little morale boost you’d given everyone before it all started.

He’d also inadvertently managed to convince you to see Dr. Fieldstone.

You knocked on her door, and she looked up from her seat to see you staring at her with a smile from the doorway.

“Come on in, coach,” she said, gesturing at the chair in front of her.

You nodded, looking around the room as you sat. You noted the little bird next to you, tapping it just enough to get it going.

“I like your decorations,” you said with a smile, then looked back at her. “Also, please call me Y/N. I hardly let the boys get away with calling me coach outside of games.”

She smiled. “I see.”

“So, uh, it’s good to finally talk with you. I know we’ve seen one another in passing a few times, but I’ve been exceptionally busy lately or else I would have come and given a proper hello. I really appreciate all of the work you’ve been doing with the team. You seem like a very kind, compassionate woman. I’m happy to have you here, honestly.”

She just watched as you talked, a light grin on her face as you did, though most of the humor rested in her eyes.

You paused for just a moment, though when she didn’t speak up, you took it as an invitation to keep going.

“Uh, so, I’m not really sure how this goes. I’ve only been to see a therapist once before and it didn’t go great. Though, I promise I won’t hold it against you. I’ve just learned how to cope on my own after that experience, but Ted kind of convinced me to try to find what would work best for me moving forward, and I thought—”

“I see why you two are so close,” she chuckled. “I feel as though I know you already.”

Your brows raised. “Really? How so?”

“Well, between how talkative you’ve become now that you’re nervous, and the fact that I’ve heard quite a lot about you in general, I’d say I have an idea of who you are.”

You let out a quick laugh. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I get kind of chatterbox-y when I talk to someone new.”

“Or when you get nervous, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, looking down for a moment. “Yeah. That, too. Guess it kinda goes hand-in-hand with some of my anxiety business, huh?”

She shrugged, though gave you a look that implied she’d agreed with your statement. You smirked, as did she.

“You said you’ve seen a therapist once before?”

You nodded. “Yes, but it didn’t seem to help. They hardly listened to me, and then told me that maybe exercising and breathing exercises would help. Gave me that advice four sessions in a row without really ever caring to know why I was dealing with panic and anxiety and everything else.”

She raised a brow. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. Now, I know you might not be able to trust me—”

“Oh, no. I totally trust you, Doc. I’ve seen how great you’ve been with the team, and I learned from a good friend a long time ago that everyone has a different story. You don’t deserve to be compared like that.”

Her brows really shot up with that being said. She nodded slowly, writing something down as she did.

“Well, thank you for that. That was kind of you to say.”

You smiled at her. “I appreciate you. Really.”

“This need to reassure the people around you, do you think that might have anything to do with what you’re struggling with?”

Your eyes widened, almost shocked at the statement. You understood now how she’d made so much progress with Ted. You continued talking about what you needed to, but the session was coming to a close quickly.

“Uh, one more thing, doc?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thanks for what you said about me to Ted.”

She quirked a brow. “And what was that?”

“You told him I was good for him.”

“You are,” she said, nodding. “I think the both of you need to be reminded that you don’t always have to turn on the personality for someone to love you. I think you do that well. Both of you.”

You chuckled. “You… Are one wise woman, Dr. Sharon.”

She laughed. “I am pretty great at my job.”

“Well, thank you again,” you said, starting to walk towards the door.

“Y/N,” she called out, and you turned. “Try to remember that the whole world isn’t on your shoulders, yeah? You believe everyone deserves to know love and comfort, but you are one of those people, too.”

You nodded, taking in a deep breath, then said your goodbyes. You pulled out your phone as you left her office. Being the last appointment for the day, you knew most people had already gone home, but you felt like getting some food. You dialed Ted’s number and waited expectantly, heading towards the door.

He answered, but didn’t speak.

You furrowed your brow, exiting the building.

“Ted?” You asked, waiting for a reply.

His voice came through, shaky and nervous-sounding. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Whoa, hold on, what’s up with you?”

“I— I’m kind of…” he trailed off, taking in a hard breath.

“Are you at home?”

You started walking more quickly, heading towards his flat.

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming to you, okay?”

You heard a sniffle on the other end, and a weak ‘okay’ in response. You hung up, and practically ran the rest of the way there. He buzzed you in, and you were up the stairs, bursting into his apartment in no time. He was sitting on his couch in his undershirt and khakis, clearly having been in the middle of undressing when he got hit with whatever ailed him.

You rushed over to the couch, standing next to him. He looked up at you, still crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked softly, reaching over to touch his arm.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Can I hug you?”

He nodded quickly, standing up and clinging to you like a child. You held him, hands rubbing up and down his back as he cried, head shaking every so often, disagreeing with the thoughts in his own head.

“I can’t even…” he trailed, mumbling against your shoulder.

“What is it, hun?” You asked, still trying to calm him as much as possible.

“Am I a shitty dad? I don’t—”

“No, no. Of course you aren’t.”

“I can’t even pick up my son from a sleepover. He had a nightmare and wanted to go home and I couldn’t be there for him,” he turned his head, cheek against your shoulder now.

You reached up to run your nails through his hair. “You’re like the best dad I could think of. Even thousands of miles apart, you spend more time talking to your kid than I ever got with my dad in the same house. He knows you love him.”

“I quit on his mom. I’m not supposed to be a quitter.”

“You didn’t quit. You didn’t forfeit. Game time was up, the match was over. Nothing you could do at that point, Ted.”

He sniffled, then nodded. “You really think so?”

“You were both fighting so long for something that only hurt the both of you. It was coming to an end naturally. You just finally had the strength to let it end, even though it was hard.”

He nodded again, and fell silent for a few minutes, still holding on to you for dear life.

“Ted?” You asked.

He hummed in question.

“Can I get you some water? I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

“Yeah,” he said, then let you go, sitting back on the couch.

You filled up a glass from the tap, handing it to him and kneeling in front of him. He drank some, then handed the glass back to you to set down on the coffee table.

“Good, thank you for drinking some,” you smiled.

He laughed humorlessly. “I’m a child.”

“You just need to be cared for a little bit right now. I know stuff like this is all new to you still, I don’t think being comforted and coddled a little is gonna hurt all that much.”

He smirked. “I guess not. Thank you. For coming here.”

You stood, going to sit next to him.

“It’s nothing. You’d do the same for me. Heck, you kind of have already, you just didn’t have to witness the crying part.”

He chuckled. “That’s… Embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not embarrassing at all,” you said, then leaned back into the cushions. “You feel like food?”

“I don’t know if going out right now—”

“I was going to order in. Thought we could watch tv or a movie or something and hang out for a while.”

He looked to you with a soft smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The next day, you woke up feeling better than you had in a while. You felt well rested, and even went to pick up coffee for everyone despite it not being a film-watching day. You made your way to the office, though you found it much more somber than you were expecting.

“Whoa,” you started as everyone watched you walk in with the tray of drinks. “Who died?”

Apparently that was a poorly timed question.

You showed up at the funeral, heading right to Rebecca for a hug.

“Hi, love,” you said, squeezing her a little tighter than normal. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m alright.”

You pulled back, giving her a smile. “For what it’s worth, you look hot.”

She laughed, “Charming as always, my friend.”

“It’s what I do best.”

You heard the squeal of Keeley before you saw her.

“You look gorgeous!” She said as she hugged you.

“Babe, it’s a funeral.”

“Still look hot,” she said with a grin before moving on to Rebecca.

You gave a quick hello to Roy.

“She’s… Weird about funerals.”

You nodded. “Right. Well, I’ll be back. Ted was supposed to be here before me and isn’t picking up his phone now.”

Roy furrowed his brow. “Really? I’m shocked you didn’t come together.”

You tilted your head. “Why would we?”

“You realize how fuckin’ obvious you are?”

Your face dropped. “Nothing’s happening, Roy.”

He grunted with a shake of his head, and you headed off away from people to try giving Ted another call.

Still no answer.

When it hit his answering machine, you decided to leave it and send a text instead.

- hey, are you okay? i’m at the funeral now. if you show up, i’ll be in the back row waiting for you. if not, i’m coming to you as soon as we’re out of here

You shoved your phone back into your purse, making sure to leave it on vibrate in case he called back. Getting through the day was already hard, and you knew your anxiety was likely going to be more of a when-than-if kind of situation. It only built with the fact that Ted wasn’t getting back to you. You felt like everything was dragging on forever, and it wasn’t until Rebecca was struggling to find the right words in her eulogy that he came in. He sat next to you, squeezing your knee lightly to reassure you as he did, and you gave him a soft smile. Something was off, but even then he had the ability to comfort Rebecca all the way from the back row, continuing to sing the song she’d begun. And, of course, everyone else couldn’t help but join in.

You walked with him to the repast, and took that as an opportunity to ask him about what was going on.

“Ted?”

“Yeah?”

You fell quiet for a moment, unsure of where to start. He started for you.

“If you’re wondering, it was anxiety again. I’m sorry I didn’t respond…”

“Did you at least reach out to Dr. Sharon?”

“Yes.”

You smiled at him. “Okay, I’m glad. Proud of you.”

He smirked, then looked around the neighborhood for a moment.

“Uh, we talked about my dad.”

Your eyes widened. He’d hardly ever talked to you about what happened because he could never get through without crying.

“Wow. Are you okay? I know that’s always really hard for you…”

“She helped me see the good in him again, you know? I was always so angry with him for leaving us, but he did more than leave us. He was…” He trailed off with a shaky breath. You reached over, taking his hand, and he held onto yours firmly. “He was a great dad. She helped me remember that.”

“I’m happy you could talk to her about it, Ted. Seriously.”

He nodded, one hand going up to wipe at his eyes. “I guess it just hit me thinking about today…”

“I know. I’ve been pretty on edge today, too.”

“Are you okay?” He rushed out, looking at you.

You nodded with a smile, “Much better now that I know you are.”

He squeezed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You tried to stave off the sick feeling in your stomach telling you to run the other way. You wished you could just enjoy a nice moment with him, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty somehow. He was too good for most people, and you considered yourself one of the ones he was too good for. You let it happen for a few seconds longer before you pulled away, pretending like you needed to check your phone in your purse.

“Get a message?” He asked after a moment.

“Uh, I thought I felt it vibrate. Guess not,” you chuckled a little.

He nodded quietly, shoving hands back in his coat pockets. You walked silently side by side until you reached the house, walking inside and beginning to mingle with some of the other guests there. You felt anxiety building, but tried putting it off. You couldn’t tell why it was getting worse and worse, but it was. Your pulse kept speeding no matter how easy you tried taking it.

But, you knew it was about to get way worse when you were suddenly being pulled away from Ted by Beard as a woman approached him. He watched after you with eyes wide for a moment before he turned to her, and you furrowed your brow at Beard when he deposited you in a different room.

“The hell was that about?” You snapped.

Immediately, you knew you needed to get away. It was hard enough feeling anxious, but the last thing you wanted was for your feelings to manifest as anger. But, manifest they did.

“You said you didn’t feel anything for him like that,” he said, testing you.

You scoffed. “Now is not the time, Beard. Who was that, anyways?”

“Remember the name, ‘Sassy’?”

Your stomach dropped, and you could swear the air had just gotten thinner.

“Seriously?”

He shrugged, a little smug. You let out a hard breath, beginning to walk away.

“You said—”

You whipped around. “Cut the shit, Beard. It’s none of your business.”

Eyes fell on you, and the barely contained attack was coming into swing. You started walking towards the back door and into the fresh air, hoping you could contain it all until you could get out of there and go home.

The door opened only a moment later, and you turned to find Beard staring at you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, I just—”

“You have feelings for him. I know you do.” He shrugged, coming to stand next to you. “What I don’t know is what’s wrong besides that.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.”

You looked down to see your hands shaking hard as you grasped your arms.

“I—,” you felt tears prick your eyes, and looked away. “I can’t fucking tell him. I’ve known him for years, do you have any clue how shitty it’d be to drop something like that on him? Besides, clearly he’s having fun with…”

You stopped, unable to even say another person’s name.

“The doc told me I self-sabotage, but I don’t think this is that. Is it wrong to want him to be happy? I don’t think I’m the bad guy for that.”

“Nobody said you were.”

“Nobody needs to. I’m a fucking mess. I have no right being upset that he’s happy. I’m a piece of shit,” you whispered at the end, closing your eyes. “I— I need to get out of here. I gotta go, I’m sorry.”

You felt your chest heave, trying to get in air through the invisible smoke that surrounded your head. There was no escaping it, now.

Beard reached out for you, but you already started leaving. He called your name, but you couldn’t handle facing him.

“If anyone asks, please just say I got sick,” you said, back still turned to him.

He sighed, watching as you walked away, holding onto yourself as if you might crumble otherwise. He was worried you actually would, but knew you’d only get more pissed if he tried following you now.

You stumbled along the street, not really sure where you planned on ending up. The closest location was on Nelson Road, so that’s where you found yourself after it all, sinking onto the floor of the office and letting all hell break loose. It was bad enough with how you’d been feeling today, but coupling it all with how ridiculous you felt over being angry that someone else had his attention… That was the thing that nearly pushed you over the edge. Crying and shaking led to dry heaving, dry heaving led to darn near passing out, and that all led to sitting on the ground for who knows how long. You’d always been able to pull yourself out eventually, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to this time.

If people really believed that hope kills, you wished they never had to know what being completely hopeless felt like.

Pretending like you weren’t ever affected by the things that hurt you could only get you so far, and now you were feeling the hard edge of realization that being hit by the things that pained you all at once was so much worse than dealing with it little by little.

Now, a room full of people had seen you crack, too. They all saw through it. The jig was up in a small way that felt huge. Your cover-up act was all you had sometimes, and you couldn’t afford to lose it all because you couldn’t handle seeing Ted with another person, or deal with your emotions before they blew up in your face.

You sobbed, unsure of how you were still awake with how much air escaped you and how little you were taking in. You almost wished you would just pass out for a few hours. Just to escape for a moment.

You heard footsteps fall heavy and quickly down the ball, and it only worsened your panic. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were cemented to the ground, a crying, shaky mess.

“Oh, thank goodness,” you heard a voice that sounded far away, then felt a pair of arms scoop you up and hold you tightly against them. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself this time, and just let yourself cry. Ted tried moving your hands away from your face, but you refused to budge.

“Sweetpea, I need to know you’re okay. Can you breathe with me?”

His voice was more clear now, and you heard a tone in it you almost never did.

“Please,” he whispered, and now you knew why he sounded different.

Tears fell against your bare legs, and they weren’t your own.

“Breathe with me, come on,” he coaxed, and you tried your hardest to obey his request.

Once your breathing calmed, you were able to move your hands, though you refused to look up. He pulled you into his lap from where he sat next to you, hands holding you tighter than they ever had before.

“You really scared me,” he said, quiet.

You took in another breath, face against his neck.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be here.”

“What?” He asked, hands gripping you a little tighter. “What do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I’m a mess. You’re supposed to be out having fun.”

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke.

“Why did you…” He huffed out a breath. “I ran to your apartment. Then all your favorite restaurants. I went down all the streets I thought you might have taken, and finally I ended up here. I didn’t know where else to look.”

“Why were you looking?”

“I asked Beard where you were and he said you got sick. You were already not doing so hot, and I knew that was a lie”

“You have better things to be doing right now, Ted.”

“Nothing is more important than being here right now. Nothing. Do you understand me?”

He was taking a harsher tone with you than you were used to. You took a chance and looked up at him to find him in disarray. His tie and jacket were discarded, and his hair was kind of a mess.

“Don’t ever do that again. Please. At least tell someone where you’re going.”

You nodded, taking in the deep worry lines in his face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize for that, I just— I was scared.”

You swallowed. “I’m— I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go see your lady friend now.”

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I know Beard pulled us away from you two for a reason, Ted. You deserve to be happy. Please don’t let me get in the way of that.”

He raised his brows. “You’re not in the way of anything.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. You’re not,” he shook his head. “Do you want to know something?”

You sniffed. “What?”

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, then smiled. “She’s kinda pissed at me anyway.”

“Why?”

He took a moment to lean back against the wall, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping his arms around you so that you wouldn’t be able to scoot away. He chewed at his lip for a moment, then looked at you. You stared back, eyes wide, and mascara running all down your face. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Hard as you tried not to, you laughed with him.

“What?”

“Your makeup ran harder than anyone on the team.”

You tried wiping away at it, but he grabbed your hand.

“Quit that.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Me having a panic attack is cute?”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but stopped when you laughed.

“I’m kidding. Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

He let out a breath. “Man, I haven’t been that scared since my mom looked in the shoebox under my bed when I was seventeen.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “You didn’t answer me.”

“What?”

“I asked why she was mad at you.”

He nodded slowly, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Uh, well, when I asked Beard where you were and he said you were sick, she was in the middle of trying to get me to go to her hotel room.”

You felt your stomach sink again, looking away in hopes he wouldn’t catch the shift in your demeanor.

He continued, “I told her I had something more important to do. She didn’t like that a whole lot.”

“You did?”

“Yep.”

You swallowed hard. “So, it is my fault.”

He huffed out a sigh. “Can you quit that? I turned down sex to come sit on the ground with you, and you know what? In any case I would always rather be here with you. Panic attack or not. You could literally just ask me to sit on the ground with you and I would always say yes.”

“Well, that’s just dumb.”

He pulled your head towards his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“You always see right through me like I’m a dang department store window. Now, of all times, is when you decide to just… Not get it.”

You played with the buttons of his dress shirt and quirked a brow.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“You know, I thought you might get it all the times I asked you to come get dinner or coffee with me. Or maybe every time I come bother you and stick around way longer than I normally would with anyone else— and that’s saying something. I was really hoping you’d get it when we were holding hands on our walk today, but of course not.”

He laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before he pulled back to look at you. You watched him with wide eyes, questioning his intentions and hoping you weren’t somehow still misreading this.

“You gonna make me say it?” He asked with a smile.

“I’d prefer if you did.”

He laughed, shaking his head. He then looked up at the ceiling, trying to search for the right words to say. They must have come to him, because he looked back to you, and simply stared for a minute before he finally started talking.

“You’re one of the kindest people I know. Like, Mr. Rogers reincarnated. You always know how to cheer me up. You always know how to help me, and everyone else in your life, somehow. I think you’re incredible. I think you are so funny and so talented and crazy smart. I even think you’re stupidly gorgeous when you’ve got makeup running all over your cheeks,” he said with a laugh, then continued when he got reassurance from your smiling face. “I’ve been scared to get close to anyone since… Since the divorce. You made it so easy, though. I’ve known you forever, but now— I guess I just realized a few months ago that nobody’s ever been there for me like you. You never tell me I’m too much. You never expect me to be… I don’t know. You don’t ever expect me to be on all the time. I can just be me, good or bad, and you still treat me the same.”

You watched him with a rapidly beating heart. Though, this time, it wasn’t telling you to run. It wanted nothing more than for you to stay right where you were.

“That’s something the Doc told me. That we’re good for each other because of that,” you said quietly.

He nodded. “I know, and she’s right. She helped me realize I had feelings for you. Real feelings.”

You bit your lip, then grinned. “Are you gonna crack a joke any time soon? Because all of this serious from you is becoming a little scary.”

His face lit up, and he laughed. You smiled with him, leaning into him for a hug. He held you close, taking in several deep breaths and enjoying the moment, then kissed your cheek as he pulled back again.

“Uh, so… Is this just gonna be me confessing and you get to sit there and tell me to do a crap ton of Hail Mary’s?”

You smiled. “There’s my Ted.”

His brows raised. “Your Ted, huh?”

You laughed, wiggling out of his grip. He let you, and you stood up, reaching for him. He stood with you, not letting go of your hands.

“You’re not going to let go of my hand to check a nonexistent message again, right?”

You smiled, looking down. “You caught that?”

“I can read you almost as well as you can read me. I knew something was up.”

You shook your head, walking into him and wrapping him in a hug again.

“I see things are a little better now,” Beard said, leaning against the doorframe of the office.

You let go of Ted, turning towards Beard.

“Hey. I’m sorry about—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t be. I was kind of being an ass anyways.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile, nodding a little.

“You two figure out… All that business?” He asked, pointing between the two of you.

Ted smiled, “Yeah, we did.”

“Good.”

He waved and left with that, the two of you alone once more.

Ted grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Let’s go home and maybe… Clean up. We kind of look crazy,” he smiled.

“Can we head to mine first? I want to get out of this dress.”

“Why don’t we just go to mine?”

He raised his brows in question, and you couldn’t help but smile. Now at least you didn’t have to pretend you didn’t think he was adorable.

“I need clothes.”

He quirked a brow. “I think you’d look awfully cute in my clothes.”

You laughed, “Okay, fair enough.”

“Ready to go home, then, sweetpea?”

“Of course.”

[shadowdaddies]

hi love!! can i request a professor!au with feyre where she gives reader a lesson on nude drawing?? she would enlighten her on the female anatomy… 👀

omg art professor Feyre has me in a chokehold. I'm obsessed with this, truly😅💜

The Study of Movement

professor!Feyre x f!Reader smut (modern AU)

Warnings: smut, oral f!receiving, minors dni

Rubbing your sweaty palms against the fabric of your dress, you peered through the doorway to the art classroom. You’d been failing in your class, Drawing the Human Figure, and Professor Archeron specifically requested that you come in during office hours for one-on-one discussion.

The blush that dusted your cheeks was immediate as you took in the stunning woman sitting at her desk, golden brown hair pinned back revealing her low-cut shirt as she scoured over paperwork. Shuffling forward into the room, you adjusted the strap of your art satchel, heart pounding nervously.

“Professor?” you managed to ask meekly, breath hitching in your throat as grey-blue eyes glanced up, their focus on you. It was no wonder why you were failing in this course - every time Professor Archeron looked at you, your mind emptied, unable to focus on your work.

She hit you with a disarming smile as she stood gracefully from her desk, long legs striding towards the center of the room. The space was set up as usual for class, with students’ easels in a semi-circle around the velvet couch where the reference models posed. 

“You can call me Feyre while it’s just us, sweetheart,” she spoke, prowling around the back of the sofa, her hands grazing the velvet fabric along the furniture. She sat on the arm of the couch, legs crossed as she silently assessed you. 

“You may take a seat,” she nodded towards the easel in the center of the room. “I asked you to meet me here for office hours to discuss your movement. Your drawings are stiff, they lack the fluidity of human motion. Do you understand?”

Biting your lip, you sat on the stool, sliding your satchel off your shoulder as you pulled your drawing pad out to set on the easel in front of you. “I think so. You’re saying my drawings look lifeless, more like mannequins? I try to capture movement, but I just feel like I struggle to actually see the flow of it - how muscles move, hair... I don’t know.”

Feyre gave you an approving nod, a small smile gracing her face as she studied you. “I think you need more practice with observing movement. Maybe you feel too rushed during class. Do you have time now to practice?”

You nodded, settling into your seat as you anticipated whatever she had planned for you. Or so you thought. 

A gleam shone in her blue eyes, Feyre smirking at you as she whispered a “good girl,” undoing her hair and standing up to unbutton her blouse. 

“Profess- Feyre,” you stuttered, cheeks turning red. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, her full breasts strained against the silvery lace of her bra. Your breaths grew shallow as she continued to strip in front of you, tongue flicking out absentmindedly over your lower lip as you took in her form, bared to you save her bra and underwear.

With a smirk, Feyre laid against the sofa, back arched dramatically as her long hair splayed out beneath her. “You are here to watch and learn, pet,” she murmured, stretching out along the sofa, a soft sigh leaving her lips as her head tipped back against the cushions. 

“Watch my muscles, the way that my body moves. Tell me how my hair flows, my legs, my breasts,” she whispered, hands sliding up and down her form as she twisted around in the cushions to face you.

With a shaky exhale, you dared yourself to focus on each part of her body - the way her hair draped like silk over her shoulder, the folds of her stomach as her hips shifted, the toned muscles of her legs. Her breasts were pressed together, covered by her bra. Your gaze lingered there for a moment, mind working to understand how her flesh would move and appear if it were free from the confines of her undergarments.

A silky soft laugh left your professor’s lips, pure amusement glittering in her eyes. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” she teased.

Panicking, you tried to alleviate the awkwardness you felt from the situation - being so inappropriately attracted to your professor. “N-no, ma’am. I mean, yes, but not like that. I just...”

“You just...?” Feyre teased, biting her lip as she flipped onto her stomach, her perfect ass on display as she laid her head against the pillows.

“I... see the movement, of your legs, your hair. But, um- I’m stuck on your breasts. Oh my god, I mean I don’t know how to draw them! Like, how they’d fall in that position. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

You broke off mid-sentence as Feyre leaned up slightly, her eyes never leaving yours as she unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground. “Is that better, pet?” she purred.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as you found it impossible to hide your arousal by this point. “Yes, ma’am,” you breathed, hand shaking too much to hold your pencil properly. 

“You are still so stiff,” Feyre taunted you, her gaze roving over your tense form. “I think it would help if you loosened up as well. Come here, pet,” she cooed, crooking a finger at you. 

You couldn’t think straight, so overcome by the image of her splayed out on the couch, bare before you. Your feet led you to stand near her, hands woven in front of you as you awaited her next direction. 

“Loosen up,” she reminded you, her hands taking yours, sliding her fingers up your arms as she opened your body to her, and hers to you. “Good girl,” she praised, releasing her hold on you to lean back against the sofa, lounging like a queen before you. 

“Would you like to join me?” she whispered, eyes darkening as she gestured to the couch. “You can take off your clothes. Feel the freedom, the movement of your body. Unrestricted.”

You swallowed thickly, not allowing yourself to overthink as you pulled your dress over your head. A smug grin settled on her full lips, her tongue flicking out as she noticed your lack of bra.

“Beautiful,” she whispered. “Come, sit.”

You sat down on the couch, self conscious as you glanced to where she lay slumped, so comfortable in her own skin. “You are stiff again. What feels natural for you now? Follow your instincts,” she guided, eyes earnest as she gently nudged you.

“I- I want to touch you,” you whispered, eyes raking over her body. You craved her soft skin, her warmth, her wet mouth on you. “Please,” you practically begged, the wetness pooling in your underwear uncomfortable at this point.

Like a spider who caught you in her web, Feyre nodded, leaning flat against the velvet in invitation. “Touch me however you please, pet,” she purred.

Quickly pulling her panties down, you kneeled over her for a moment, simply allowing yourself the indulgence of seeing her laid bare underneath you. Sliding your hands up her smooth thighs, you hooked her legs over each edge of the couch, tracing lightly along her skin. You smirked at the hitch in her breath as your fingertips as you skated around her core, sliding your body along hers as you lowered yourself to her.

“You are so beautiful, I can’t focus in class because of you,” you admitted, hand brushing through her long hair, trailing down her jawline. 

Feyre gasped underneath you, rolling her hips against your own. “Then we will have to see each other outside of class more,” she breathed.

You nodded, biting your lip. “I think that might work,” you murmured, lowering your lips to where your fingers had just brushed her jaw, trailing wet kisses down her throat, in between her perfect breasts. Sitting up slightly, you cupped each of her breasts in your hands, running your thumbs over her nipples as you ground your hips against hers.

“God, I need to taste you,” you murmured, lowered your mouth to her left breast as you flicked your tongue over the peaked bud. She moaned, writhing underneath you as her hand wrapped around the back of your head.

“Take what you need, pet,” she whimpered, hand subtly pushing your head down. You chuckled against her, taking the hint as you moved to the other breast, making quick work of licking and tugging the nipple, blowing cold air over the skin as you enjoying her squirming at the sensation.

Kissing your way down the soft skin of her stomach, you paused above her pussy, pried open and dripping for you. Drawing one finger up her core, you felt your own arousal grow against your underwear as you sucked on the digit, moaning at the taste of her. 

“Please, love I-“ Feyre began to beg, but you didn’t allow her to finish before licking a broad stripe up her center, hand pinning her hips to the sofa as you thrusted your tongue inside of her. Gathering her slick, you moved to her clit, spitting on the bud before wrapping your lips around it. You sucked in a pulsating rhythm, flicking your tongue out as she moaned lewdly under you. Pushing in one finger, you swirled against her walls, stretching her out before adding the second. Curling your fingers, you found the spot that had her head tipped back, perky breasts arched, chest heaving as she came undone under your touch.

Pulling your fingers to your mouth, you grinned around them as you envisioned the drawing you could create of this moment. Catching her breath, Feyre looked up at you from where she lay, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Her hand reached out, tugging the waistband of your underwear as she pulled you up towards her.

“Hurry up and sit on my face already,” she murmured, impatiently tugging as she helped you shimmy the fabric off quickly. Hands found your hips, pulling you down where you could feel her warmth breath against your core.

A small mewl escaped you, clenching as you dripped onto her face. “Oh my god, you are perfect,” she muttered, tongue flicking out as she lapped at your pussy. Moaning loudly, you gripped the sofa as she pulled you further down, her nose pressed against your clit as her tongue thrust inside of you, back and forth.

Head thrown back in ecstasy, you felt the muscles in your body tighten as her tongue found your clit, fingers plunging into your core as she urged you to ride her face. With a shuddering breath, you moaned her name, reaching your high before collapsing next to her with shaky legs. Blue eyes locked on yours, shy laughs leaving both of you as you remembered where you were. 

“So, do you have a better understanding of movement, or would you like to come back for office hours in the future?” Feyre questioned softly, almost nervously.

You dared to reach a hand out, brushing her golden hair behind her ear. “I think that I understand movement, and that I would like to come back in the future. Maybe outside of office hours.”

Her answering smile sent butterflies through you, and you pulled her close for a lingering kiss, committing this moment to memory, for you would draw, paint, sculpt it for years to come.

[freyapoststhings]

Okay so I'm writing a fic about Artemis finding out about how Apollo was treated before, after, and during the trials and I need help making a choice.

Do I write her losing it and "killing" Zeus?

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐑𝐄-𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐂 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐖

❝ Paisley had wanted to be a hero since they were twelve years old. Like most kids in Gotham City, she had grown up hearing stories about the Batman roaming Gotham's dark streets every night, delivering justice and putting criminals away where they belonged. They had noted every new Robin, every new Batgirl, and been thrilled when Batwoman first arrived on the scene. But when the Green Arrow made his debut in Starling City, Paisley realized exactly what Gotham, even with all its badass black-clad angels of justice, was lacking.

Gotham needed an archer. And Paisley, twelve years old but already able to outshoot her professional archery instructor, was the just the person to give it one.

And so they had trained. She had spent every second of her spare time improving her shooting skills until she very well could have gone to the Olympics if they'd chosen, and working with the MMA instructor she'd begged their parents for when she'd turned fifteen until they were sure she was nearly on Batman's level. And on their twenty-third birthday, right after starting her second year of university, Paisley made their debut on Gotham's streets, taking down several muggers and thieves on her first night and capturing the attention of Gotham's media.

While the rest of Gotham was mainly amused by this new purple-clad vigilante calling themself Sagittarius (an archer! In Gotham! Can you believe it?) Jason Todd was intrigued. He'd seen the videos; this chick had major skills, and he wanted to know who she was. And as it turned out, she wasn't that hard to find. A first meeting occurred while sharing the takedown of a drug shipment, a conversation happened, and an agreement was reached: neither young vigilante particularly wanted to be a sidekick or a partner, but there was no shame in lending or taking a hand whenever they crossed paths, right?

Two years later, Paisley's nighttime career, as well as their deal with Red Hood, is still going strong. She works as an secretary at Wayne Industries during the day, slings arrows by night, and pretty much always hopes to run into the scarlet-hooded anti-hero, who isn't nearly as cold and intimidating as the public seems to think. But with every assist, every trading of back-and-forth banter, they can't help but wonder even more: who is this dry-witted gunslinger, and how can she be this attracted to him when they've never even seen his face?

Well, Paisley supposes, nothing is ever normal or unconfusing in Gotham. And when you're a vigilante, even less so. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @xoteajays.)

[archer-fb]

Sigh well I'm here again searching for a fic

It bakugo x reader (they are still at ua) where bakugo gets hit with a quirk where him from different universes come to their universe. The only way to get rid of them is to fuck. And it only stops when bakugo confesses his feelings for reader. I know there is a merman bakugo, a barbarian bakugo, and maybe a werewolf bakugo. Istg I'm so bad at finding fics

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June MC of the Month: Eva Archer

Please welcome June 2024's MC of the Month: @dutifullynuttywitch's Eva Archer

Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

Learn more about Eva below

1- In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

She’s an idealist, preoccupied by social justice. While at the Tower, she constantly fought the authoritarian leaders, which resulted in her and her sister needing to flee so she wouldn't ‘get disappeared’. Now that she’s leading her own colony, she is still trying to find the right balance, ensuring everyone’s voice is heard and feels welcomed.

2- Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I think we both lean towards social justice and fairness in our decision-making. And I definitely gave her some of my musical tastes! (Though I have more grunge and alternative in my repertoire.)

But other than that, Eva is much cooler than I could ever hope to be!! 🙂 She’s a fighter, brave, willing to put her life on the line for others.

3- What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Eva is not the bravest, but she is fiercely loyal to her friends. Being forced to leave her fatally injured sister Brynn, her only family, behind after narrowly escaping The Tower was the hardest thing she’d ever done. It left her deeply scarred. She refuses to lose anyone else she's close to and will put her own life on the line if she can save her friends or members of her colony.

Her friendship and frequent quests with Eli and Angel help her gradually feel more confident in her fighting skills. As a leader of the newly established Olympus Colony, she speaks up against injustices and tries to be conciliatory. What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

She despises cruel, self-centered people. Unfortunately there are too many in her post-apocalyptic world, who will do anything, kill anyone just to survive a day longer.

While she generally loves Troy’s easy-going attitude, she absolutely loses her temper when he shirks on his chores - which he unfortunately does regularly.

4- If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

She would find a cure for the parasite that converts people into zombies. She’s in no way a scientist, but she wholeheartedly supports her best friend Shannon Fox in her ongoing investigations.

5- What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

Wild Horses, The Rolling Stones.

It’s a bittersweet reaction, really, having lost both of her fathers in a horrible way (one became a zombie and killed his husband), and more recently her sister. She holds on dearly to the lyrics that “wild horses couldn’t keep me away”. It’s how she feels about Troy, and her friends Eli, Shannon, Angel, little May…

Her favorite quote is more inspirational: “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.” – Emily Dickinson

6- Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?

I adored the Choices book Wake the Dead. Such an interesting, dark concept, where your choices matter, with tons of potential for world-building… I wanted to create a character that had lived through terrible things, resulting in deep-seated trauma, but at the same time could see the light in the world and continue to strive to better her life and that of those around her. This is how Eva was born!

7- Other facts about Eva

Eva was born close to Reno, Nevada before the zombie apocalypse.

She previously worked in pest control from the age of 18, then became a scout at 25 at her former colony, The Tower.

Eva is dating Troy Hassan, her childhood best friend from her Tower days. This was a slow burn, friendship to love. Troy’s an absolute charmer, knows her better than anyone and is her emotional support. He’s much more carefree, which brings out her lighter side – necessary with all the stress and pressures of running a colony during an apocalypse!

She dearly misses her sister Brynn, who died shortly after escaping the tower. Eva admired her fierceness and how she bravely ventured out as a scout every day to support the colony. Eva hopes to become as tough as her sister.

Thank you so much for reading through my MC profile, I had a blast sharing Eva Archer with you!! And thank you @choicesficwriterscreation for giving us the space to gush about our fictional babies!!

[atlabeth]

Gideon!Reader is phenomenal- I can’t wait for the next bit of it ! Any hints you’re willing to release? 👀🥰

thank you so much im so glad you're enjoying!! i can't really release anything ive prewritten bc all of it is very spoilery but this is what gideon and spence were talking about that made him all blushy lol

[jojotichakorn]

i know i've talked about this before, but i really am obsessed with peem's completely inexplicable love of water in parallel with what water would mean for nueng.

people don't necessarily have to have a reason for liking something, of course, but i find it so interesting that there is truly no particular explanation for this extremely strong sense of happiness, safety, and comfort peem has around water, to the point of focusing all his art on it. he was born and raised in chiang mai, which is pretty much as far from the sea as one can be in thailand. he doesn't have any childhood stories or nice memories connected to water either. that feeling seemingly comes out of nowhere.

all that, paired with the fact that anyone who has seen never let me go could easily explain why nueng would feel happy, safe, and comfortable around water and the ourskyy2 nlmg episodes which established the concept of palm and nueng finding each other in every timeline and universe, as a lover of both nlmg and we are, i simply can't not attribute peem's seemingly random love for water to a connection with an alternative version of himself in a different universe.

[criminalamnesia]

the lack of my lady jane fics… yall are gonna make me roll up my sleeves and write them myself huh

[talshiargirlfriend]

@sun-lit-roses and I were talking about Star Trek food and human eating habits throughout the Trekiverse. So, this happened…

T’Pol eyed the lightly seasoned strips of grilled plomeek carefully arranged on her plate and then glanced across the table at her dinner companions. She found the familiar desert hues and savoury aroma of the three varieties of Vulcan root vegetable enticing. She wondered what the humans would make of it.

“Thank you for sharing this with us, T’Pol,” the man on her left smiled.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing what passes for grub on Vulcan,” the man on her right added with a smirk.

Captain Archer took the first bite and chewed thoughtfully, “Mmm, not bad.”

Commander Tucker spoke next. “It’s real good, actually, but you know what’d be even better? … if we fried it!” he declared, eyes bright with enthusiasm.

T’Pol did not allow her eyebrows to rise more than a millimeter or two.

“Like Vulcan French fries! Trip, you’re a genius! I’ll comm Chef.” The captain leaned back in his chair.

T’Pol silently took a bite.

“T’Pol? We're only joshing you,” Jonathan grinned widely when he caught her eye.

She looked back and forth between the two men. “You planned this.”

“Yeah,” Trip leaned toward her slightly with his own bright grin. “We just wanted to see you make that face you make when you’re trying not to make that face.”

T’Pol attempted to parse that statement.

“Ah! There it is again, Cap’n!” Trip hollered. Both men laughed.

T’Pol had been immersed in life onboard a human starship long enough to understand that this sort of teasing was frequently used to indicate social acceptance.

Setting her fork down, she eyed her companions seriously. “It is perhaps fitting that you chose such a jest, as frying is a traditional method of preparing this dish… for young children,” she attempted to infuse her voice with a subtle hint of wry amusement.

“Ahh, she’s got us there, Trip!”

“I don’t know about you, sir, but I do try to maintain a youthful exuberance,” the commander declared with a theatrical twirl of his fork.

Both men grinned again and T’Pol’s own lips twitched slightly.

It certainly felt like acceptance.