#i can have silly chapter titles if I want to

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

jon val jon or something

[cakeinthevoid]

Masterlist!

Part 5 — This Edible Ain't Sh—Oh Boy (The Look — Metronomy)

Content: Medication side effects (pain) and injury (mentioned)

By the time Carrie had finished their breakfast, their soft rock playlist had nearly been exhausted. They rifled through their music library on their phone to queue some other genres while waiting for Willow.

Willow was a rather slow eater. They were methodical, seeming to eat the parts to any given meal in a specific order. 

So when Willow had begun gradually picking up the pace, Carrie immediately knew something was off. Their hand began to tremble. Then it wasn’t long before keeping the spoon in hand was a visible struggle. They fought admirably to keep a neutral expression, but the frustration bled through.

It wasn’t a mystery what was causing this, either. 

“If you’d like to take a break, you can. I’ll save your food in the fridge if you still want it.” 

That’s what Carrie did for those first days when Willow began taking the medication just before breakfast. Then Carrie tried a change in the schedule and Willow eagerly adapted. Since then, medicine was first thing in the morning so they could eat after the worst of the side effects faded.

Willow clenched the spoon tightly. It only made the shakes in their hand worse. They really were stubborn.

Carrie sighed quietly. “I keep telling you I have udrophoon. It will help with the side effects of—”

Willow’s spoon clattered on the table as they suddenly dropped it and pushed their chair out to leave.

“Willow…” Carrie got to their feet at the same time as them. They were always opposed to udrophoon. Again, Carrie had some ideas as to why they would be, not all very pleasant, but if it could ease their daily suffering…

Willow was heading determinedly to the stairs, escaping to their room. At least, they were; One moment they were rushing out and the next, they nearly keeled over. They barely caught themself on the console table against the wall.

“Oh Lord—” Carrie rushed to their side, but Willow pushed themself off the thin table, knocking over a potted plant, and stumbled back in the direction of the stairs.

Carrie let the plant roll off the table in favour of catching Willow by their upper arms from behind. “You’re not gonna make it up the stairs,” they said, trying to guide them to the living room. 

Willow tore out of their grasp, whipping around to face Carrie. Carrie had been doing their job for much too long to flinch at the enraged look on their face. 

Willow was breathing heavily, teeth bared, and glaring viciously at Carrie. 

“I know,” they said calmly. “I know.” They huffed a breath of air that was too dark to be a laugh. “Trust me, I know, but I’m not just going to let you collapse and risk hurting your ribs worse. They’re. Not. Healed.” Their voice was firm. “Understand?” 

Willow shook with barely contained rage and medicine tremors, hands balled into tight, shaking fists. They were beginning to hyperventilate.

Carrie brought their hands up slowly, palms out in a placating gesture. Willow’s eyes flicked down to them and back up to their face—and took a stumbling step back.

Carrie felt something inside them ache, as it did for every patient they took in, but continued their gesture. 

They brought their hands to their own ribs and traced the areas where Willow had breaks and fractures in their ribs. “Your ribs probably hurt like a flamin’—hurt a lot,” they amended. “You need to control your breathing, like this.” Carrie demonstrated steady breaths. “Not too deep. Just breathe with me. Better yet, breathe with me on the couch.” They pointed carefully in the direction of the living room.

Willow was wavering, swaying on their feet a little. Despite that, in true Willow nature, they held their glare. 

“Willow. I won’t be catchin’ you like a damsel in distress,” Carrie said, knowing full well they would. “So please let’s rest on the couch.” Then a thought stuck. It was ridiculous but it might be enough.

Carrie cocked their head. “Lay on the couch and you can choose the music?” 

Willow’s gaze sharpened. Carrie was almost certain that the only reason they still stood for another full minute just glaring angrily at them while they were moments away from falling over was for appearances sake. 

They’ve seen it before: they wanted to maintain an image. Institute patients had little control over their care, and so they took what they could get. If being difficult means they would feel a little better on the inside while receiving much needed care, then Carrie would deal with that.

Finally, finally, Willow stepped back, turning to the living room, but held Carrie in sight. They made their way unsteadily to the couch, but Carrie kept their distance instead of hovering too close. 

Willow paused before the couch for a beat before cautiously sitting down. They had schooled their face into impassiveness, but Carrie saw the way their shoulders relaxed—how they curled over slightly with relief as they sank into the cushions. 

It must be exhausting to keep up a front all the time when it was so clear they just wanted to completely relax. Carrie settled into the armchair next to the couch and wondered if they ever would feel safe enough to do so in front of them one day. 

Baby steps.

Carrie was pulling out their phone when Willow suddenly tensed again, digging their fingers into the couch and sucking in a sharp breath. They grimaced in pain, riding out what Carrie knew to be the seizing of their internal muscles. They hissed a breath through their clenched teeth, eyes burning holes into the ceiling. 

“I know, it really sucks.” Willow transfixed their fiery look on Carrie, as if to say ‘really?’ 

“Ok, it really, really sucks but maybe lay down? The music might help? Give you something else to focus on?” They held out their phone to Willow.

Willow just looked at it, hands still gripping the couch with enough force to tear through the fabric if they had claws. They cringed at another wave of pain, clearly wanting to curl into themself more, but resisting. 

Carrie lowered her arm. They weren’t helping them like this. Frankly, they were doing more harm than good for Willow at this point. Too much, too soon, they thought again.

“Here,” they placed their phone unlocked on the coffee table arm's reach from the couch. Then they got to their feet. “I have to clean the kitchen anyway. Tap the red square for music and the triangles to change songs.” 

They were already on their way to the kitchen when they added, “Just call me if you need help” and only realised the stupidity of that statement when they were picking up the fallen potted plant from earlier. 

But when they turned around, they saw Willow already laying along the length of the couch, curled into a vague s-shape, and scrolling through their phone. 

Carrie turned back around to clean the kitchen, lest Willow saw them watching them act even a little relaxed, Lord forbid. So Carrie tidied up. Just before starting to wash the dishes, they heard the faint sound of a synth riff.

Tag : @whumpkinpie :}

[pyrriax]

6, 12, 30 for the writing asks ^_^

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

Shaking its head in what seems like disbelief before meeting his eyes again, almost like it wants to say something before it makes a noise like a growl, "oh, you're one of those seraphs, aren't you. A star-eater. No wonder you act like you've lost your mind."

(ignore that that's a couple sentences, the Thought is important)

12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

Oh yes! I outline my fics thoroughly. Though, I do allowed myself to deviate as much from the outline as I feel like when things go off the rails. Some snippets of planning from a couple fics & concepts:

My outlines are very... One for one. With some exceptions. I tend to basically write a very brief version of the fic and try to get the feelings and words right before I actually write it. This is... Also why it can and will take me a month to write a oneshot. I try to get things Right.

30. How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

So! I edit them a bit? I edit while I work, but often I don't really touch anything I've already written unless it's something longer that might be taking a few months to get through. I think the fic I've edited the most is the prologue of Artificial Stars, which was originally a quickly written 2k oneshot into about 5k of actually decent fic.

Usually I don't edit to make something shorter/more concise, since I tend to only come up with more ways to bridge concepts when I go back to it. Also to be fair... There's usually no difference between first draft and final product. I cannot be asked to edit my fics after I write them, I just release them to the birds and pray for the best. (Unless I actually decide to show it to my beta reader in full instead of just sharing snippets as I... usually do.)

Conclusion: Rarely, those thangs are being given to the world as-is unless something is horrifically wrong with them

[whom-to-kill-whom-to-let-live]

Ah lads, I might have gone off the rails in my desperation for Legato fanfics and ended up writing my own.

[honey-doc]

Why I appreciate Kabru and Mithrun's relationship in the story (with pictures!)

I just want to express how much I loved reading through the chapter with the 6 days they spent together and how I think their relationship developed in a pretty sweet way.

I feel like a lot of people reduce their dynamic to "nurse and patient" and that makes me sad because I personally got a lot more from it than that.

I do wanna start off by saying I'm here appreciating their dynamic as it is in the text.

Read more (spoilers ofc):

The beginnings

When they first met, there was an air of intimidation surrounding Mithrun as the captain of the ominous Canaries. He demonstrates his proficiency as a fighter and leader which worried Kabru because he knew it would lead to the dungeon falling into elven hands once again. But this threatening aura begins to dim in Kabru's mind as they get to know each other.

Even before they fell down the hole, the both of them ended up relying on each other's abilities a number of times (when the underground governor turned out to be corrupted Mithrun defeated him and Mithrun needed Kabru's deduction skills during the battle on the first floor) which is already the beginning of a great dynamic

(Kabwu is scared but Mithrun just asks for his help)

After Cithis tasked him with "taking care of Mithrun's needs" for the time being, Kabru treated Mithrun with proper respect and doesn't take advantage of his disability, even using his title “Captain” when he knew Mithrun wouldn’t have cared either way after learning about how he lost his desires. This is in contrast to Cithis who immediately took advantage of her position to mess around with Mithrun when she was taking care of him.

(When Cithis was put in charge of taking care of Mithrun)

The whole time Kabru is with Mithrun, he treats him like a person and more than just someone to be taken care of, as also he relies on Mithrun's fighting skills, knowledge of the dungeon, and teleportation magic.

When you reduce their dynamic to just "caretaker and patient", you're ignoring Mithrun's own capabilities and making him seem totally helpless. It actually feels rather ableist. They have a more balanced relationship with what Mithrun brings to the table than you may think. Mithrun couldn't have survived down there on his own, but it's the same for Kabru (who famously dies every time he fights)!

Kabru doesn’t show signs of trying to manipulate Mithrun either, and he's no longer intimidated by him in the slightest once he learns he’s not a threat or after his life. Though he does instinctively revert to his "sparkly" persona to get Mithrun to eat the disgusting mushroom, it doesn’t work so Kabru just has him eat it normally and never tries it again. This is the beginning of Mithrun unintentionally encouraging Kabru to be more honest with others.

(Kabru realizing he can chill out)

(Kabru being unreserved and Mithrun being silly)

bonus funny moment:

Bonding

Throughout the journey they talked to each other, shared things with each other, and ate with each other. And Kabru expresses genuine concern about whether Mithrun is comfortable (which is something he could live without and wasn't something the Canaries told him to do).

(Kabru showing he wants to make him comfortable by making food for him which is a very important part of the narrative)

(Kabru sharing intimate memories with Mithrun)

(Kabru initiating conversation without hesitation or worry. This part also is referencing how Mithrun shared very important details of his life with Kabru. Kabru also ends up trusting Mithrun with information about Laios despite knowing he could possibly tell the other Canaries about him and impede his plans..which he does lol they do end up knowing about Laios before meeting him.)

For a bonus Lycion implies Kabru was taking better care of Mithrun than they had been which is interesting to me.

Mithrun also shows that he has come to trust Kabru's decisions over the Canaries' when he says he wants to stay in the dungeon after fulfilling the caretaker requirement. They did talk to each other a lot, during that time. I wonder what Mithrun's Shapeshifter double of Kabru would look like now?

Here, Kabru goes out of his way to make sure Mithrun doesn’t overexert himself by knocking him out after the demon leaves with Marcille (again, when his time taking care of him is already over), and I think that demonstrates an extra level of concern he holds for Mithrun.

(Kabru holding back a hellbent Mithrun)

(KNOCKOUT!)

He even managed to make Mithrun mad. It's probably because he "let the demon get away" but I think it's cute and funny because would he huff like that at anyone else? Lol

When the demon breaks through the surface

Kabru begins panicking after Laios turns into the giant monster because he's wondering if he made the right decisions etc. If Mithrun didn’t care about Kabru at least a little bit, he would’ve just left him alone when he started losing it (right after Marcille did the same thing and she is technically more to blame for empowering the demon than Kabru was for not allowing Mithrun to go after it), but he went out of his way to snap him out of it.

It also means a lot to me that Mithrun even says Kabru's name, because in Japanese you can go your entire life without referring to someone by name and it wouldn't sound wrong (just rude) and it's the first time Mithrun says Kabru's name on screen (I checked).

Though it was with a slap, I think it says a lot, because if Mithrun didn’t care at all he wouldn’t have done anything and left him alone. It's not like Kabru could've done anything to stop the demon. He didn't even to tell him to do anything even though Kabru looked ready for an order.

(To be honest I don't know exactly why Mithrun starts beating him up here but you can say it's another rare demonstration of emotion Kabru was able to evoke in him lol. Maybe it's payment for Kabru stopping him the first time. That can be interpreted as paying it back and/or paying it forward I think.)

The last few chapters

And in the end when Kabru’s motivating Mithrun to continue living his life, he speaks to him like they’re friends/have no rank between them despite using the Captain title for him the whole time. Even Lycion initially gets upset that he’s acting “too familiar” with Mithrun.

It feels like Mithrun changed so much in the short time he spent together with Kabru and before the final battle, and it’s thanks to Kabru that Mithrun finally starts to be able to move past his lingering obsession with the demon and begin to really heal.

This is despite the fact that he spent so much time with Milsril and the other elves who never managed to break through to him like that.

(Before Kabru) (After Kabru)

And even after his role as Mithrun's caretaker was loong complete, he still shows concern for Mithrun and tells him to take a break when he's using up all his magic to slice the Falin meat (lmao).

He didn't need to do that! But it shows how he at least slightly considers Mithrun some kind of friend.

It all culminates with Kabru helping Mithrun regain his wil to live and Mithrun confiding in Kabru. Their relationship is important. Kabru continuing to do things for Mithrun to me is more of a sign that he just plain cares about him. Isn't it normal when a friend needs medication for you to remind them to take it? I think it's like that.

Kabru is there with Mithrun when he comes out about his feelings of uselessness AND when Senshi helps him put a spin on the 'vegetable scraps' metaphor and he find meaning in his life again. He's the first one to see him cry :')

Along with the fact that it feels like Mithrun is the first person we see Kabru doesn't feel the need to change his personality with or put on airs for since Mithrun doesn't need buttering up and he won't get offended if someone were to say something socially awkward, I think they made a pretty good team!

BUT ALSO the REAL reason I became endeared to them is cute shit like this:

GOD I love them!!!!! There are so many funny sides to Mithrun Kabru was able to bring out, and really show his charm as a character. Mithrun also brings out the best in Kabru while Kabru’s the most genuine he’s been since his debut with Mithrun. We are able to see that he’s just a kind and caring person, rather than the shady obsessed guy most fans have come to believe him to be.

The true depths of their dynamic also grew on me over time :)

TLDR

All in all it’s so nice seeing how even though Mithrun is a really deadpan person, and Kabru is a really secretive and withheld person, they clearly seem to have developed some kind of bond while they traveled together and even changed each other to an extent.

Doesn't Kabru feel more honest near the end? Maybe it's because of how much he talked to and shared with Mithrun during those 6 days so candidly...because they taaaalked a looooot like wow.

They mean so goddamn much to me. I don’t need them to be in a romantic relationship but I do want them to be together forever :'))) or like at least hang out when they have off time since they're still in the same country lol. Praying for Kui to make another side comic of them some time (crying).

Thanks for reading if you made it this far, I mostly arranged this because it makes me sad to see people reduce their dynamic to only one singular aspect.

Anyways ya...love 'em (heart hands)

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[unholyhelbig]

new oversight will be everything! i can’t wait!

Title: Work Life Balance [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader gets hurt during a job, she starts to worry about how her girlfriend, the infamous mafia boss that controls the city, will react

[a/n: while this isn't a new chapter of Oversight (I am working on that), it is set in the same universe as the Oversight. It's based off of a Private Practice episode, and something a little lighter & silly. Enjoy!]

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, spit, threats, blood, hurt/comfort, No spell checks

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The metal bat had slammed against the side of your face with enough force to blind you momentarily in the right eye. It knocked the sense out of you too and your bearings were scrambled until that darkness started to ebb away into a blurry image of the alleyway.

There was a pungent scent in the air, rotted food in dark green trash bags that had been torn by tiny teeth, or elongated claws. Crumpled napkins and discarded soda cups littered the damp ground.

Before the man could swing the bat for a second time, you caught it half an inch from your face and shoved it away. He was disarmed and you were able to shove his back up against the wall, holding him there despite his squirming. His lip was split, the blood drying quickly from the bright red to a deep black.

“Come on, man.” You twisted your hand into the fabric of his shirt, bunching your fingers around his collar. “We fronted the product, so you have to front the cash.”

“Fuck off,”

He spit on you, a gummy mix of tobacco and sugar. There were a lot of things you could handle; the ringing in your ear, and the pain in your knuckles from the first four blows you threw. But spit was where you drew the line. It had bugged you since you were in fifth grade and Amy Sheldon dangled a long string of it inches from your nose before slurping it back up through the slit in her buck teeth.

“Alright,” you breathed out, making sure you kicked the fallen bat out of his reach. “You agree to push product on that little street racer of yours in exchange for twenty five percent of the cut. You get sloppy and sample the product and don’t have the cash to give to my boss?”

You lifted him from the brick and shoved him back down onto it with enough force to push the putrid breath from his lungs. “That doesn’t feel very fair, now, does it?”

He smiled at you with a laugh that rivaled a cackle. His teeth were orange with diluted blood. There was no getting through to him. Your free hand dipped into the side of your jacket. Over the last two years, you’d grown well accustomed to the feeling of a gun in your hand.

You pushed the tip of the gun under his chin into the soft spot of his skin. He stopped laughing, the sound getting stuck in his throat with a choking sound.

“Do you know what they call me?” You gritted.

“A raging bitch?”

You made a buzzing noise in the back of your throat, much like the signaling of a wrong answer on a game show. There was a soft click as you pulled the trigger of the gun. The man in your grasp tensed and hissed.

“Wrong. You know, at first, I just forgot to load my gun. Got me into some pretty hot water, scalding actually. But eventually it became a bit of a calling card. Roulette. I can pull the trigger as many times as I want, but only one will hit it’s mark.”

He swallowed hard, you felt it in the side of your hand. He was sweating and you were growing tired of the empty threats. Yelena wouldn’t approve of something like this, and you were sure Natasha wouldn’t have had a second thought about putting a mark between his eyebrows.

“Most men aren’t lucky more than twice,” You pulled the trigger again, met with another soft click. Of course, there were no bullets in the chamber; they rattled in your front pocket like your keys. “Three times at most.”

His voice cracked. “Please,”

There was a sharp scent in the air that rivaled that of trash. You were losing blood fast. It had streaked down the side of your face from a gash on your temple and crusted the collar of your shirt.

“You have a week to make up the difference. A week and I’ll be back with a gun that has more than one bullet in the chamber. Am I clear?”

“Yes, but-“

“Am I clear?”

He nodded aggressively and you sheathed your weapon, releasing him. His legs gave out and he sunk to the damp pavement. You picked up the weighted metal back, entirely content to take it with you. It would make your next encounter a hell of a lot easier.

It was impossible to sneak into the house without giving yourself away. Even if you were to park down the block, unlace your shoes and pad into the foyer barefoot, and leave the front door open a crack, you were at risk of creating a scene.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep the injured side of your face away from Natasha for as long as possible. She would know that something was up, and despite her throwing you into this life in the first place, her heart broke when you were on the deep side of any injury.

You set the metal bat down with a bucket of black umbrellas and a bench that was mostly unused. There was a dull metal thump that aggravated the headache that was coming on. You attempted to sneak up the stairs, but the second your fingertips hit the mahogany handrail you were stopped by an irritated voice with a Russian lilt to it.

Yelena was sprawled out on the sofa, a book was face down on her chest, lifting and falling with each breath. She’d given up on it in favor of the warmth that Kate provided her. Kate’s head was on Yelena’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Yelena looked perfectly comfortable in between Kate’s legs, both of them were about ready to doze off and if you had waited an extra five minutes, maybe you would have gotten away with sneaking in.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Kate asked.

You leaned against the entryway of the sitting room. “Ricky got a good hit in with a metal bat.”

“Oo, Natasha is going to be mad at you.” Yelena chuckled, taunting you like a child. You would have thrown a pillow at her if Kate wasn’t in the line of fire.

She was going to be mad at you for not using the buddy system that was proposed and certainly for not dodging the hit that was coming your way. Natasha hated when you got hurt and that sad look in her eyes was worse than whatever pain could be inflicted on you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks pretty bad.” Kate said.

You shot them both the middle finger before turning away and padding up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with Natasha. Most days, she was holed up in her office and you didn’t bother her until the ache for her touch, for her presence, bothered you both enough to cave.

That was most days.

Some days, Natasha could be found in your room in sweatpants with a laptop propped up on her crossed legs. She was dwarfed in the silk bedspread, her hair in a messy bun and a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.

This was quite possibly your favorite look on Natasha, this quiet version of her. She’d let you hold her in this state instead of the other way around. You hated to break the mood, hated that she glanced up from her laptop not once, but twice.

Wordlessly, Natasha set her work aside and walked over to you. She cupped your face, her fingers cold against your cheeks. Her voice was soft and when she was angry enough, there was the slightest bit of a Russian inflection to her words. “What happened?”

“I… didn’t use the buddy system.”

“Mm, you didn’t use the buddy system.”

Her thumb moved against the black and blue wound against your eye. She pressed every so slightly, testing its durability. You winced, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth. It wasn’t bad, really, her touch soothed you just as quickly as it had bitten you with pain.

Natasha was good at taking care of you and she pulled you into the large master bathroom that the two of you shared. There was an abundance of white and beige. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the house and offered a form of comfort as such.

There were nights where the two of you would simply brush your teeth shoulder to shoulder, and there were nights where she had her arms wrapped around you amongst the deep scent of lavender. Bubble hit her touch as her fingers roamed over the most intimate parts of you.

Now, she guided you to the edge of the sink and lifted you up in a fluid motion. She stood between your legs, making you feel even more like a child when Yelena had scolded you downstairs. Still, there was a degree of affection in her movements. Natasha frowned as she pulled a med kit from the bottom of the sink.

She tutted “Zaychik, this looks bad.”

“Image wise or the actual wound because-“You let out a small noise when she placed the frigid and stinging antiseptic against your face. It sent electric down your spine. “I didn’t know he had a bat.”

“A bat?”

“Right out of left field.”

Natasha’s frown deepened. This was supposed to be an easy job, and by all means, it was. You had accomplished your assignment of scaring up. You were sure he had released his bladder as he slid down the wall into a fetal position. Getting the money from a frightened man was going to be no problem.

Tonight was intended to be calm. You’d come home and shower and eat pizza and spend the entire night curled up in Natasha’s arms while she typed away on the computer. You’d listen to her breathing, her heartbeat.

Instead, she was roughly patching you up, buzzing with anger under her stare. “Why didn’t you take Clint?”

“Nat, I have a fantastic idea.”

“If it involves gutting that man alive and hanging him from a flagpole, then I am all in, darling.” Her words were light, distracted, as she wiped away a good portion of dried blood.

“What if we left things at the office, metaphorically speaking. What if we didn’t bring stuff like this home? Shut it all off.”  

She pulled back far enough to stifle her floral scent. There was an adorable crease between her eyes. “My mind doesn’t work like that, Malysh. This home is my office and vice versa. Someone hurt you and that is my business. That is my work.”

“I know,” you said, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She glowered under her thick-framed glasses. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off her face. “I know, but sometimes I just want to be with you.”

“Huh,”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

This wasn’t exactly a constructive conversation. You figured as much when she ripped a bandage out of its waxy packaging and slapped it onto the gash against your temple. You let out a disgruntled noise and she grasped your waist and maneuvered you back to the floor. Your legs had fallen asleep and you were a little unsteady.

Natasha flicked on the sink and started scrubbing her hands of your blood. “No sex,”

“What?” You blinked at her, scratching fruitlessly at the adhesive on the bandage. It was incredibly itchy.

Natasha dried her hands on the nearby towel, “You heard me, no sex.”

“You… You’re withholding sexual pleasure because of something that happened at work?”

“Not something that happened at work, your refusal to talk about it.”

“Natasha,” You nearly whined.

“No sex!” She huffed, pointing towards the exit of the room “Go sleep on the couch.”

You dropped your shoulders in defeat. You had been banned to the couch? Your girlfriend didn’t’ withhold most things and the two of you had a very healthy and active life. There wasn’t true anger behind her words, instead she was testing you. Watching you until you give in.

“Fine,” You huffed, crossing your arms “The couch sounds lovely.”

“Good,”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

You grabbed the fuzzy blanket at the base of the bed and started to stalk towards the door. You could feel Natasha staring at you, waiting for you to turn around and apologize but it wouldn’t happen. Not this time. You were setting boundaries and if that included…no sex… then that was fine. It was fine.

“Zaychik?”

You turned back to Natasha, one eyebrow lifted, “Yes?”

“Leave the blanket.”

She gave you a sugary sweet smile before settling back into her previous position, pulling her computer into her lap. Your jaw was agape, but you tossed the blanket at her nonetheless and stormed out of the room.

The nerve, the absolute nerve!

Natasha wasn’t particularly hard to have a conversation with, but work was nearly untouchable with her. You knew that. She knew that. You did as you were told and protected her and her assets at all costs.

When you got back downstairs you fixed yourself a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before sulking back into the living room and flopping down onto the recliner in the corner. Yelena had since fallen asleep, and Kate was reading the book while her eyes grew heavy.

“You got kicked out, huh?”

“Kicked out, banned from sex.” You waved the sandwich around in the air “doghouse.”

Kate scoffed “the Romanoff sisters aren’t always the most forthcoming, are they?”

She was looking lovingly at Yelena, stroking her hair as the smaller woman curled deeper into her, fingers clenching at Kate’s flannel and then releasing as she settled back into a comfortable sleep.

“They make it hard to love them, but the moments where the mask slips and they’re vulnerable. Moments like these make everything worth it. And despite everything, you know they care. They’ll always care.”

“Sometimes too much,” you took a large bite of your sandwich.

“No such thing.”

Yelena stirred in her arms, nose pressed against Kate’s pulse point. She clenched her eyes tighter, her next words mumbled “Kate Bishop, if you don’t stop talking you will be sleeping on the couch with y/n.”

“Doghouse,” You said with a long sigh.

“Mm,” Kate hummed, letting out a quiet whisper “Doghouse,”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

[notbecauseofvictories]

I've now received four (four!!!) different copies of my fic, bound and illustrated by different artists---and there's still a deep, almost reverential feeling I get when I hold them in my hands, lay them out. Ironically for the subject matter, they feel decidedly holy. After all, where else am I going to get proof that I did this---even if "tell a story about music and the devil" is one of the sillier things you can do to occupy your time.

But to be less vague, this is the kind gift of @fleabitebooks / @kettle-bird! They reached out to me a few months ago, saying they wanted to bind my Devil Went Down to Georgia fic, and would I like a copy too? As I would never say no to a gift like that, I gleefully accepted.

If you've been following me long enough, you've seen their art in my Cornstalk Fiddle tag, and I am pleased to say that the images lose none of their power. I think the choice to stick to a limited color palette works beautifully here---the golden-yellow of the title pages and the larger art almost seeps through the paper. With the crisp lineart and shading, it ends up being both lovely and vaguely ominous, a sign of the eldritch things moving around/beneath the story.

(Also, I realize this is not a major aspect, but....I love how truly awkward-looking the Devil is. He looks like a Southern Gentleman, and I love that touch of weakness in his jaw.)

I also deeply adore some of the design choices---chapter 3 starting with the cornstalk fiddle and the triumphant starburst of golden-yellow? The white snakeskin-threaded-with-gold pattern used to bind the book? The way the paragraph breaks and endsheets are music? Amazing. Just amazing.

Maybe I should revise what I said above. Yes, having your silly fic about a country song turned into a physical book is proof that you did it, finished it---but it's also proof that someone else did too. In this case, @kettle-bird sat down with my fic and carefully copied it, played with fonts (oh, those are fantastic too by the way!) and spacings and margins; they drew art, colored it; laced the book together, made and bound the cover, then shipped it off to me.

Which means....if I did this, then I was hardly the only one.

[tacharie]

Thoughts for The Montkraken Episode

so, I just finished the chapter and… wow I have a lot to say. I took screen shots for every part I wanted to talk about and I think this rant will be SUPERRRR long so bear with me. Tumblr won’t let me add screenshots so when I have better service I’ll edit the post to add them. These paragraphs are theories and side notes that I wrote after reading a certain section so you’re gonna see my thought process throughout the story. As always, spoilers ahead so I recommend skipping this if you haven’t read it already.

Alright so I was once a hater of this ship BUT… the Shobaru shippers may have a point in this guys 😭. LIKE.. I HAVE THE SCREENSHOT OF SUBARU BLUSHING UHHH. That is not a heterosexual stare feller 🤨…

AHHHHHHH THE FROSTHEIM DUO ARE BACKKKKK!!! I missed them so so much they’re so silly and deserve the best. Honestly the only two I trust in this school cause I CANT. I literally suspect anyone but them, but Imma be so disappointed if either of them are hiding something. I’ll be sad, but like I’ll help 🙄. I was actually so sad when the MC mentioned being the reason they could be in danger like GIRLLLLL DONT SAY THAT PLEASEEEEE. ITS LIKE THE ANGST WITH ADEUCE AND YUU LIKE STAWPOPP. Also when the Vagastorm kids were like “aw yeah Mido wouldn’t lie like that” it makes me happy that people can at least trust him enough to be honest and idk I found that kinda sweet :3. We’re also getting a bit of a timeline, like the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty Murder being BEFORE the clash (sorry if this was already mentioned I don’t really remember stuff from the past chapters) which could’ve been a trigger.

Also, I feel like they’re trying to tell us that Jiro is Zenji’s brother because when he had that little laugh about the MC being scared of bodies, he said too. When you click the “too?” option, he just says that he isn’t the one afraid. It’s not Yuri as well cause he’s literally a doctor that is in the same room when autopsies are in session. Whatever the case, I assume he was referencing to Zenji, though it being a blurry memory. Little theory tho.

OK SO THIS IS JUST SO FUNNY TO ME. In Chapter 9’s title it says, “Girl Learns Shocking Truth About Monster”. I like to think the shocking truth was the fact he didn’t shower for 3 days 😭. CAUSE THATS THE PART SHE SOUNDS MOST SHOCKED. Idk that part was silly to me. THEY’RE OUTFITS FOR THEIR DORM IS SOOOOOO PRETTY. They ate I fear, a bit more than the other dorms. Also side note, they dropped A LOT of info with just how they word things. For example, Yuri saying “Jiro, you are well aware that I will not be associated with those germs AGAIN.” Soooo Yuri was in Frostheim? I don’t doubt it bc there’s another line that says “I’d rather not recall how bitterly cold that place is” which can MEAN TWO THINGS. I’m super sure that they’re implying that yeah, he was, but then something happened blah blah blah.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH HYDE AND DANTE??? Like ok bitches, spill your shot to us too don’t be shy. So, confirmed by them, Dante and Hyde used to go to school in Darkwick (which I assume the rest of the teachers are too). That explains their back and forth. WHAT REALLY CAUGHT MY EYE WERE THESE LINES.

Hyde: “…You really are a softie, Dan-Dan.” (Haha Dan- Dan)

Dante: “It would seem that way to someone as cold as you.” (???) “…There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed, Hyde.”

Hyde: “…I’ll keep that in mind.”

WHATTTTT. WHAT ARE THE LINES. GO IN DETAIL ARGHHHHH. This gives us more info on the character individually too. Dante describes Hyde as cold… DANTE. So, it was obvious that this whole happy go lucky attitude was fake, but I expected to be more like Haru’s kind of attitude not like that yk?? now I know how much of a cash grab this game is, but I really hope they aren’t going to stretch the story out too long to the point where you have to P2W cause I haven’t paid a cent and I don’t plan to. I still want to learn more about them and stuff so :(. On the topic of Dante, there was a small flashback where I missed a word in the sentence that Dante said while talking with Alan. “I’m the man you supposedly killed.” Supposedly?? Now, I didn’t my catch this in my first run, but now it’s like wdym supposedly?? Shouldn’t you know? This is giving hella Jiro vibes and honestly, I’m getting sick and tired of these characters having a bad memory.

SPEAKING OF JIRO- he seems to have problems remembering things and they come back to him in the very weird moments (honestly a kin moment). I would like the think that he’s just suffering from the damages he had to go through from the clash. His relationship with Yuri is so… sad to me. Yuri seems to doubt him a little bit and I feel like he sees him as just a specimen, not much of a friend. Meanwhile, Jiro smiles a lot to Yuri and listens to him like a master, like that’s what he’s supposed to do. NOT AGAINST HIS OWN WILL DONT GET ME WRONG. He’s just so neutral about it it makes me a bit like awwww :(. They’re cute tho idrc.

Ok moving on to Haku and Tohma. (Ok at this point I’m getting nervous cause why are we seeing so many characters now. That’s probably just a coincidence). OK THESE TWO HAVE GOT IT GOING. Like there’s tension when you get their chat in the campus but this is like woahhhh… Also I don’t like how Tohma says “our wheelhouse? I see..” it makes me think he’s like implying “so you think you’re a part of them now?” IDK THATS JUST MY LITTLE STRETCH. Also poor Zenji, he’s like “aw yeah I died in vain lol” LIKE OUCH.

Nicholas. I DO NOT LIKE HIM. I REPEAT. I DO NOT LIKE HIM FOR A MINUTE OF A SECOND. The only staff I like are the cats, the grocer guy, and MAYBE Dante. LIKE HES SO… NORMAL?? LIKE THERE’S SOMETHING WEIRD GOING ON IK THERE IS. When MC says “I can’t believe Professor Nicolas would do something like that” I DO 😡🙋‍♀️. I am in full support of Yuri finding crimes against this guy.

Also, little other side note, I just realized that Yuri and Jiro have matching earring in opposite ears. It’s so cute.

Ok I might have to go back to the beginning and see what the “goat like anomaly” Jiro is talking about when he mentions the prophecy, cause I said “… the chancellor is a goat??” BUT ANYWAYS. Speaking of the prophecy, I’ll jot it down.

“The whisper of the new moon shall lead the champion to the academy on the solitary island. So long as the champion resides there, the world shall be sheltered from profound tragedy.”

Stating the obvious here, but this is most likely referencing to the last cutscenes we get when we choose our characters. I’ve checked the cutscenes again and there’s no visible moon, meaning it could correlate to the “new moon” portion. (Search up new moon to see what I mean). Assuming Solitary island means death, that would also help with the theory. So, whoever we chose in the beginning might just be the person who won the Laurel Crown.Honestly, this is just a silly little Drabble for a theory and VERY vague. Maybe the champion resides in the events of the past that we still don’t know about but this kinda helps?? Idk I’m just putting what I think at the moment. I’ll probably reread the game so I can get a better timeline. Also, Yuri’s rant about demon particles… doesn’t exactly sit right with me. Were they chosen to be resilient or was it just a birth thing?? Idk but I feel like a lot is missing from his theory. I mean, we’re using human logic to a supernatural cause so I don’t think pacts acting as allergies would work. If they’re not chosen, could it be that the ghouls can make pacts with more than one demon? I wanna see what happens if that was the case. Please comment if I missed something 😭.

Ok Towa appeared. (Why are we seeing so many characters I don’t like this) and we went back to that tree… WHAT IS THAT TREE?? And what the hell do you mean the fruit grew? What is that fruit supposed to be? An anomaly going to birth?? Is it supposed to represent the houses?? Motivation?? It seems so weird to me cause we just got introduced to that tree last episode. Sighs.

OK REN AND RITSU. WHAT IS GOING ON. I GUESS SINCE THIS IS THE LADT CHAPTER FOR INTRODUCING CHARACTERS BUT LIKE … STOP. I feel like something is going to happen with the MC pls 😭. Anyway, those two talking about ramen is so cute please don’t ever change you virgin and lizard looking freak 🫶( with love of course). GROCER GUYYYYYYY. YIPPEE :3!! I love that the cat is the owner and not the human lmao.

Also I will always be a MC defender cause she is so relatable. “Why are hospitals so creepy at night?” GIRL IKKKKKK. Idc what y’all say, the fact that she’s normal is keeping me sane from these freaky deaky events. ILOVE NORMAL CHARACTERS! LIKE MATSUDA FROM DEATH NOTE OR THAT ONE GUY FROM MASHELE. Anyways, I love her little comments and everything she’s so silly. Idrc if she doesn’t have much of a backbone cause honestly, she’s surrounded by danger so the best she should do is listen to the people that are constantly surrounded by it.

ALSO NEW THING. (Well idk if it’s new but yeah).

mention of a Dionysia Breakout. <—— Idk what that is, but it sounds like a little more. I love little details and slip ups thanks characters <3!!

HA! HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA! I WIN NICOLAS 😈!!! YOU DO HAVE SOMETHING TO HIDE. AND I WILL FIND IT TRUST YOU WILL BE DELT WITH. I WILL KNOW THE PRIOR PAST >:(!! Also, Moby is being soooo annoying tbh. More character descriptions to add: competitive as a teacher. NO ONE WILL MAKE YOU HATE YOU JIRO ‼️‼️‼️ HES SO SWEET He literally asks if we’re scared and says we can hang back awwww. Though he doesn’t understand much, he can use logic and he can at least understand how we feel. It’s a nice sentiment :)!

I can’t take the transformation seriously I’m sorry. I’m still impressed by Yuri’s deductive skills and the transformation just sounded like he was constipated.

THE WHOLE BATTLE SCENE WAS EPIC!! MC HESITATING BECAUSE OF LEOS WORDS BUT STILL PUSHING FORWARD. YURI GETTING FLUSTERED. JIRO SMILING AND TRUSTING YURI’S ORDERS. THE FUNNY EXCHANGE ABOUT MUSCLE WHEN THEY WERE CARRYING THE POD. Those annoying ass pussy sticks we call Darkwick students 😡. JIRO LOOKING BADASS AFTER THE SHOT. URGHHHH I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.

HARU AND PEEKABOOOOO!! AHHHHH IM SO HAPPY I SEE THEM AGAIN!! I’m so glad he’s going to Hyde too cause I’m not ready. Also… the mermaid thing is so weird. For the Montkraken Mermaid, they seem to refer to it as “it” or “that mermaid”, but when they speak of the second mermaid, they use personal pronouns like “he /him”. Haru’s expression as well when he heard someone was abusing mermaid flesh… it’s a new one with a little crease under his eye. It’s such a sad face like, did he know this mermaid personally or was this fear?? Either way, I wanna meet him cause the other one was so pretty.

…You guys know the “I see who you are… you are my enemy” sound that’s on TikTok or reels or wtv? YEAH THATS SONG WAS PLAYING IN MY HEAD WHEN HYDE SAID WE HAD TO DO A SPEECH. HYDE IM IN YOUR WALLS. URGHHHH I HATE HIMMMMM. Call to action my ass IK either Taiga or Leo are gonna get their asses out of the door after the speech. OR BOTH. I’m starting to tweak.

NOOOOO THE SPEECH IS THE NEXT CHAPTER?? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I feel so bad for Zenji… like I’m so deadass. Dude he sounds so sad about how he’s dead it’s so.. URGHHHH. ALSO I CALLED IT. THEY ARE BROTHERS. AHAHHAHA!! Well it was kinda obvious cause everyone thought it too but WOMP WOMP. Also I love his real name, Taro Kirisaki. It’s pretty :)!! But these lines killed me

“and though I have taken my final blow, my brotherly heart can’t help but worry for my kin. … Not that he has any idea I’m still around.” YEOUCH?? I DIDNT COME TO CRY BRO…

I’m tweaking out because of this speech bro. I’m gonna choose the corniest stuff and hope for the best. “I feel bad please stop for me 🥺” headass.

Taiga is officially my enemy as well. I called that shit about him leaving URGH. WHAT A FLIBBERTYJIBBET!! His outfit eats tho so it balances out. LIKE DAMNNNN. HE LOOKS SO GOOD.

DOUBLE?? TRIPLE??? QUINTUPLE???? HELL I MIGHT BECOME A GHOUL TO GET THAT MONEY GOLLY 😍😍😍!! CAUSE IN THIS ECONOMY??Also thanks Jin you a real one twin. Bouta split this cash with my wife and I’ll send you a wedding invite.

EDWARD. ED PLEASE. STOP PUTTING ME IN THE SPOTLIGHT… well it’s out now so woopy!! I really wonder what the others have to say about that cause they just gave really vague surprised reactions. Well, Ritsu documented it. I love that little guy please don’t ever change you silly.

NUMBER ONE CORNELIUS HATER IDC. Unless I know your intentions I DONT CAREEEEE. YOU ARE AN OPP IT IS ON SIGHT WITH YOU. SAME WITH YOU NICOLAS!! “I didn’t know whether to tell you or not I’m sowwy 🥺” CHUPA MI PITO HOE 😡.

… you’re telling me I didn’t have to do that awful speech because DANTE AGREED?? IM DONE. IM WHOOPING EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND AURING THE PLACE OUT. FIRST ONES OUT ARE HYDE FOR NOT TELLING ME, NICOLAS, AND CORNELIUS. ARGHHHHHHH. Also, dude, who is that Janitor guy like seriously.

ROMEO??? AND HYDE???? WHAT IS THIS ABOUT BUTTERCUP?? Wdym worked for him?? What is going on… SPECIAL MISSION??? SHO??? OH NAW. I CANT TRUST NOBODY ANYMORE 😭

Towa crying :(. What does the fruit shrinking have to do with it now?? I’m so confused.

ALRIGHT IF YOU MADE IT TO THE END WOW YOU HAVE DEDICATION. Yeah this is my personal yap session to this chapter and it’s so URGH. I’m so excited to see the next chapter and I hope we get to see more and more. Now with the Gala in place, we can finally start WORKING. Based on the timeline, we have about … 8 months left?? So hopefully, for MC’s sake, she gets cured. BYE BYE UNTIL NEXT EPISODE!!

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter three — can i interview you?

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [2.9k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. mentions of eating habits.

masterlist ⎸ chapter two | chapter four

2017.

"CAN I INTERVIEW YOU?" JAMIE ASKED you. The pair of you were sat in his trailer where you were supposed to be running lines.. but you can't really go off track if you were never on it to begin with... right?

the way you both always managed to become sidetracked from your work could astound anyone. always finding some excuse not to rehearse, but rather to sit and enjoy each other's company.

"interview me?" you asked him, a confused look etched onto your face, "what for?".

jamie was sat on the couch opposite yours, his legs cross at the ankles as he laid on the plush cushions. he tilted his head to the side so he could see you better. you were looking at him just up from your phone, where you were texting bailey.

"I don't know, it's kinda stupid-"

"-but" you cut him off, raising your eyebrows.

"-but" he emphasised, "I kind of want to make a video of our time on set, like.. I don't know- a documentary?"

you noticed the way jamie stopped looking at you and went back to fiddling with his old camcorder. he tended to always carry it with him, no one ever really paid much attention to him filming little things on set. he always would find a space to film where no one would take much notice of him shooting, but where he could still get the shot he wanted.

"is that why you're filming all the time?" but jamie forgets that you always take notice of what he does. you two were intertwined like that, you both paid attention to the small things about the other. there were many times you had caught jamie filming you and your castmates, or just you.

the first time was when you were sitting with trinity in the makeup trailer. she was on your lap and you were singing to her, whilst making her dance, controlling her arms. trinity's giggles filled the entire trailer that morning, jamie had just come in to get his face done- quickly getting a shot from the doorway of the trailer, one that focused on you.

there were more times. times were you would be running stunts, practicing your breathing or messing around in the tanks. you always thought he was just filming his castmates, but you always seemed to find your way into the main focus of his shots.. he couldn't tell you how it happened... it just did?

"I've kinda already started," he said, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"yeah, I've noticed" you laughed, "what's it gonna be on?"

"I want to cover the build up to the movie coming out, you know? show how much we grow up and change.. sounds silly, but I think it would be really interesting to see in however many years" jamie spoke nervously, but you heard the passion that laid underneath his words.

"I think it sounds awesome," you nodded, "you can interview me."

"not now though" he sighed, sitting up.

"what?" you followed in suit, "why?" you asked.

"because now you're expecting it, I don't want you to have time to overthink the answers" he chuckled, putting his camera down on the table. jamie moves over to the kitchenette and sits at the table, grabbing the small plastic container of watermelon the two of you were sharing earlier. you look at him for a while before breaking out into a soft smile. he squints his eyes at you, a playful gaze on his face. "what," he chuckles, his two front teeth peaking out in a small grin.

you lean forwards and pick up his camera, turn it on and press record.

"how do I zoom?" your voice isn't of the highest quality, but it was still clear. there was a soft buzzing in the background, but no way to tell if it was the camera itself or the trailer. "oh wait-" the frame zooms quickly into jamie's face- "I got it"

he chuckles, running his hand over his hair. you let out a deep breath before speaking again. "okay, what's your name?" you ask.

jamie laughs for a second, stopping himself from eating a cube of watermelon "seriously?"

you scoff, "yes? can we try again; what's your name?"

he lets out a sigh, sitting up slightly from his slouched position against the trailer wall. "my name is jamie flatters."

"birth name james" you interject.

"my name is james flatters" he is seen sighing and rolling his eyes.

"how old are you?" your voice comes through the recording again.

"I'm seventeen,"

"and where are you?"

"on the set of avatar: the way of water" he smiled, putting a piece of watermelon in his mouth to eat.

"so," you say, "what's the dream?"

the frame zooms out a tiny bit, showing jamie from the chest up, who was licking some of the juice from the fruit off of his finger. "I mean.." he sighs, "I want to be the best actor I possibly can be. I- I basically just like want to watch a film I'm in and be like: that's a stranger. that's someone I don't know." jamie smiles softly at you behind the camera, his eyes looking just above the lens. he puts another piece of watermelon on his fork and says, "I think that would be a really cool feeling," before eating it.

"what do you think has changed your perspective on the world? like since starting this.. process" you could be heard chuckling behind the camera, just grabbing onto words at this point to put something together for jamie's film.

"the girl behind the camera right here," he says jokingly.

"aww," you say over dramatically.

"jokes, jokes" he chuckles. he knew he didn't mean it though, you had adjusted his perspective, he just didn't know how to put it into words really. "I see the world as a lot bigger, so- so I'm no longer in my bubble of my own mind." he says, looking down at his food before back up at you. "my new friends have changed my perspective a considerable amount. I've now made friends that are all over the world, so I'll never look at the world in the same way."

"that was very deep, mr flatters.. wow," you swallowed and took a breath before asking a mother question. "if- if you could describe this experience in a few- or one word, what would it be?"

jamie paused for a moment, looking around his trailer. "giving," he nodded, "it's been very giving".

you smiled, looking from the viewfinder to meet jamie's eyes. "thank you so much for your time, sir. james 'jamie' flatters, everyone." you turn off the recording.

"wait jon-" you turned around in your seat to find him, "so what are we actually going to do there?"

you and the rest of the new cast were headed to disney's animal kingdom theme park in florida to do a press release for the film. the bus that was taking you there was quite small, but being sat next to trinity gave you lots of extra room.

"so we'll take some photos, do some interviews, look around at all of the outside" he explained, "then you'll get to do flight of passage, and the river journey ride"

"we get to actually go on the rides?" trinity, turned around in her seat and got up on her knees so she could see jon.

"yes trin," he chuckled, "you can go on the rides"

the rest of the bus ride wasn't long, you were at the park shortly after. you got to look at some of the other attractions before heading into pandora.

"this is fucking crazy," jamie leant down, so he could talk quietly in your ear, knowing trinity was just in front of you both. "how cool is this?"

you marvelled at the sights ahead of you, "it's amazing" you whispered. "I don't even know what to say," you looked up at him with wide eyes, "this is insane."

"look, y/n! the floating mountains!" trinity turned around and grabbed your hand, running the two of you forwards, pulling bailey along with you.

"oh my goodness, they actually look like they're floating" bailey exclaimed.

"how do they do that?!" trinity turned around and looked at you both in bewilderment. you were convinced you were there, in pandora. it was the most surreal feeling, actually seeing it all with your own eyes. it felt like a privilege that shouldn't be afforded to you. you were lucky to be standing there, in the place closest to the real thing.

the press photos went relatively quickly. you were sat on the ground next to jamie, holding trinity in your lap for a few shots, standing with bailey for others. you watched as the boys did some short little interviews before going on the rides, you stood with bailey, trinity off waiting with jamie.

"he was staring at you before," bailey whispered, nudging you slightly.

"who?" you asked softly.

bailey turned to you dumbfounded, confused as to why you even had to ask her. "jamie," she said.

"what do you mean?" your face scrunched up in confusion slightly.

"what do you mean 'what do I mean'? I mean he was staring at you," she chuckled softly, trying to keep quiet. "he's always staring at you," she smiled, "he totally likes you."

"oh no," you shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest, "no way."

"you're kidding right?" she asked, "how can you not see it?"

"I don't know what you're looking at, but it's definitely not the same thing that I'm seeing," you smiled with a laugh.

"hmm," she mumbled, "speak for yourself, I know I know" she smirked at you.

"sure," you scoffed with a laugh.

your day unfolded nicely. you all got to go on the 'flight of passage' ride, feeling what it would be like to ride a banshee. you were sat with britain and duane, laughing at duane screaming for majority of the ride. 'bro this is sick!' came from your right, 'dude, I know!' from your left.

you shot a few more interviews after the first ride, little shots of vision of your reactions after your lifelike banshee encounters. lining up for the 'na'vi river journey', jamie came up behind you.

"trinity has something she wants to ask you," he whispered. you jumped slightly from him sneaking up on you. you laughed at him before looking down at him.

"what's up?" you crouched down to her level. she was playing with her fingers and looked nervous before speaking.

"could I sit with you on the ride?" she asked quietly.

"trin, you don't have to ask me" you chuckled, "of course you can,"

"I want sit with jamie too though," she looked up at him and then back to you.

"that's okay, we all sit together" you nodded.

"I guess I can put up with her for you, trin" jamie whispered down to her. she giggled, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes- like she had just been told a secret.

"hmm," you narrowed your gaze at jamie, "I don't like you some days." you turned away from jamie and faced your back to him.

"you're a bad liar," he leant forwards, whispering into your ear. you smirked and turned your head slightly, so you could see him in your peripheral.

"I know, I just like to keep you guessing" you whispered back, a smirk on your lips. he shook his head and bit his tongue, standing up straight once again. as you looked back you caught eyes with bailey, who raised her eyebrows at you with a grin before looking away.

the ride was beautiful, the soundtrack was unlike anything else you had ever heard before. you had trinity sitting in the middle of you and jamie, holding your hand and pointing things out to you throughout the ride.

on the bus ride back to the hotel, you were sat at the back with trinity laying across you and her own seat, asleep.

"oh trin's out," duane chuckled from his seat. the others turned around a looked at the sleeping girl draped over your legs.

"she had a big day," bailey cooed, pouting her lips.

"what should we do tonight? could we eat?" you asked the others, "I'm starving."

"we should order some food to the hotel," filip said, playing with his hair.

britain nodded, "yeah, I don't really wanna go out-" he said- "I'm so tired."

nods and words of agreement filled the bus. jamie, who was sat in front of you and trinity, turned around in his seat to look at you. "what do you want to eat tonight?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I could eat anything," you shook your head at him, exhaling through your nose with a laugh, "I didn't eat much before we left."

"you're so stupid," he said, his tone frustrated, "I don't understand why you don't just eat properly. you know your body needs food to survive, yeah?" jamie leant his head on the window of the bus.

"yes, I'm not stupid" you rolled your eyes, leaning back against your seat, "I just wasn't very hungry then, but I should've just eaten."

"I reckon we just put a film on in someone's room tonight," jamie closed his eyes as he spoke, feeling the road travelled on underneath him.

"you okay?" you asked, noticing the small crease between his eyebrows.

he cleared his throat, before sitting up slightly and opening his eyes. jamie looked tired, but this was the first time you were noticing it today. "yeah," he nodded, his gaze was faded, "just got a massive headache."

"have you taken anything for it?" you asked him, sitting back up in your seat. you took in his tired complexion and reddening eyes, like he had been rubbing them lots.

"nah," he sniffed, resting his head against the glass again, "I will when we get back,"

"do you want me to ask jon or someone if they have anything?" jamie noticed how your demeanour had changed, you were now concerned and on edge. it was cute.

"y/n," he smiled softly, closing his eyes again, "I'll be alright,"

jamie was quiet the rest of the ride back to the hotel. He was looking a little pale, you were convinced he was drifting in and out of sleep as you quietly chatted to bailey.

ordering dinner to the hotel was a process. passing around one phone, figuring out who was going to pay (and how everyone would pay that person back); it had been forty minutes in filip's hotel room before the order had even been placed.

jamie was slowly reengaging with the rest of the group, having taken some pain relief for his headache. you were keeping a close eye on him, now that trinity was preoccupied with bailey.

"did you want to go? we could go to your room and you could sleep until the food comes" you said quietly from your spot next to him. filip, britain and duane were busy singing some rap song together, serenading bailey and trin.

"we?" jamie asked, opening his eyes from his rested position. a little smirk was beginning to appear clearly on his face.

“i’d rather sit in silence with you than do anything with someone else.” you chuckled.

jamie was taken back by your statement, you saw the change in his gaze. he was surprised by your forwardness. you both had a very intricate relationship. he liked you, he couldn't help it. over the little time you had known each other, jamie couldn't help the butterflies that involuntarily swarm his stomach.

what you said to him had the butterflies flocking.

jamie couldn't say anything, he was left without words. instead, he was interrupted by britain shouting that the delivery driver had arrived with your dinner, ruining your plans.

you all ate dinner, some movie that filip picked playing in the background; none of you paying attention to it anyway. as the night began to wind down, trinity's mom came and brought her back to her hotel room, that's when you and jamie took off.

his hotel room was down the hall from yours. he popped his head around the door, seeing if his room was in a state that he wouldn't want you to see.. it was.

"wait here," he said, slipping inside and leaving you in the hallway. jamie rushed around the room as quickly as he could with his pounding head.

you lean against the door, pressing your forehead into the wood. “jamie,” you whine, “let me in!”

“one second!” he shouted back. you chuckled as you heard him shuffling around in his room. he was haphazardly throwing his clothes back into his suitcase and shoving it into the corner of the room. before he called out to you, he quickly grabbed his camera, switching it on to record

“okay!” jamie’s voice was heard on the camera as he yelled, “come in.”

you open the door, but stopped in your tracks and broke out into laughter when you saw the camera. the frame zoomed in on your face, capturing the way your face was growing hot.

"can I interview you?" he asked, a smile on his face. you felt your chest tighten with anxiety as your smile grew.

"yes," you nodded, "yes, you can."

taglist: @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @whos6claire @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz @graysonshaven @stvpidscvpid @ok-boke @cvsmic-love @sully-stick-together @caniuseurname @fandom-geek17 @carpecaelo

[denkies]

The BSD 5 Opening, Tetsu no Ori, is a love song from Atsushi to Akutagawa

Let's start at the beginning of the song, with the accompanying scenes.

Putting Atsushi and Akutagawa with those specific lyrics was probably not a silly mistake done by complete coincidence. But let's keep going!

These lyrics specifically pertain to Atsushi's feelings after Akutagawa's death. Both "places" in these lyrics refer to the afterlife-- somewhere only seen after death, and somewhere Atsushi doesn't want Akutagawa to go.

"A place you can't go" can also be foreshadowing that Akutagawa doesn't go to the afterlife. He becomes a vampire. On that note, Atsushi believes that Akutagawa can be woken up from his brainwashed state-- and actually begins to succeed in chapter 108. He doesn't believe Akutagawa to be in the afterlife, because he has faith that he's still there.

The anime opening ends with those lyrics, but the full song continues. I'll be talking about some specific parts, which pertain to the topic.

This one is pretty quickly explained, as Akutagawa and Atsushi quite literally symbolize Yin and Yang, even physically. The line about being unable to ignore the "bug in the iron cage" comes up later!

Past tense, expressing the sorrow that came after the heat of battle. "The loss of ecstacy" seems to reference the 2 battles that they won against Fukuchi, as the ecstacy of winning was taken from them.

"That we can only be slaves to something; knowing that you will lose." is referencing these rewritten battles again -- Fukuchi tells them that they won, but he went back in time (chapter 87). In the lyrics, Atsushi recognizes that they are slaves to Fukuchi's sword, that they can't win.

"Knowing that you will lose" might also reference Atsushi's thoughts on Akutagawa's sacrifice. Atsushi knows that the escape route was only for him; that Akutagawa's first and foremost priory was getting Atsushi out alive. Knowing that he couldn't have saved Akutagawa from Fukuchi, because Akutagawa didn't want to be saved. He was going to lose, in every scenario, to keep Atsushi safe.

And finally, this part. "You've already taken flight; you've become a butterfly," again, referencing Akutagawa's death. Funnily enough, I think this also ties into Akutagawa not actually being dead. Butterflies symbolize the soul, death, and rebirth. All of these are relevant to him in vampire form, so equating him to a butterfly isn't too far off. It's also very pretty and sweet.

The line about the iron cage comes up again, this time, Atsushi revealing himself to be the "bug in the iron cage." The entire sequence seems to be about Atsushi's grief, that he can't ignore and is trapped in like a cage.

His desire to be free is also tied to him wishing to be reunited with Akutagawa. "You've already taken flight / If I could fly now, outside the iron cage..." I think it conveys that Atsushi wants to escape this grief, but only if it means reuniting with Akutagawa once more.

Lastly, as my evidence, the song title "Tetsu no Ori" (鉄の檻) literally means "Iron Cage". The song itself is about Atsushi being trapped in his grief, and love, after Akutagawa's death.

I rest my case.

[ghulehcirice]

Lavender Fog Part 2

[Phantom Ghoul X Reader]

[A/N]; Hey Babes! Thank you for all the love on part one I really wasn’t expecting it all I want this to be as amazing as good as I can make it but let’s go over a few reminders!

TW/CW list; the ghouls are described more in-depth as pack like creatures and are displayed as doing things such as nesting and scenting, as well as purring, there will be talk of harassment and bullying not done by any of our main characters, foul language such as whore, slut and other unsavoury words will be used for reader! Please remember you are none of those things! This fic will incorporate the Possessive!Phantom elements I was aiming for last chapter! Some siblings of sin shit talking the ghouls and calling them inhuman, demons etc.

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE MASKS AND I DO NOT WANT THEN TO BE DRAGGED INTO THIS.

I am all for respecting people and ideas. My philosophy with this is that the band was originally established to be completely anonymous I will keep that with everyone. Which does include the ghouls and papas.

On a more silly note I want to include Copia more and I am an autistic and trans Copia truther and he will probably resemble my own expirences!

With that being said I will add any tws that are needed so let’s get started.

Apparently this connection you both shared was a rarity between humans and ghouls, you knew ghouls often get attached to people, thinking back to all the videos you have seen of Omega and Papa Terzo. But it’s not often that that bond happens between a newly summoned ghoul and a regular sibling of sin.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of organizing with you, Copia and Sister Imperator. Quickly you’ve come to learn you can’t spend a whole lot of time away from phantom, Lest you want a ghoul fussing over wheter you’ve eaten, if you’ve been hurt, etc. you had to move into the ghouls den with him, not that you really cared, they have their own kitchens and everything. That’s not even starting on just how comfortable ghoul nests are. That reminds you to swap some of the clothes you had given him to build his nest with so you had clean clothes.

Your past few days had consisted of alot of this, swapping clothes from the nest, getting moved into the den, figuring out what you’re going to do in the clergy now because you can’t do a whole lot with your puppy of a boyfriend (is that what you two are? Cirrus called it being mates but also said it’s not a title to be taken lightly.) It has also been a lot of getting to know Papa on a more personal level as he helped you learn about ghouls. Quickly you’ve come to learn Papas not very different from anyone else in this Abbey. He had a very big love of his rats VERY BIG. This man really loves rats, outside of his papal makeup he struggles with things anyone else does, eye contact, talking, confidence. Can I just emphasize how much this man loves rats and rodent like animals? Same with those old really shity 8 but games. If you asked me last week how big a rodents test were I WOULD NOT have guessed that they do not stop growing. The fact Copia had stuttered out when you first met was going straight into your little box of horrors. Right next to the fucking talking plant from that show.

On days you spend in the papal library, you would often be coddled near to loving suffocation from Phantom. Smell is a large thing for ghouls, so you usually have to spend anywhere between an hour and a half all the way through 4 hours cuddling with a ghoul so you’re properly scented. And no, you can’t move unless it’s absolutely necessary even then you get trailed to and from whatever the important thing was. Once you both are settled further, you need to have a talk about space and boundaries. You know he’s been trying his best to learn between everything. On the nights you spend in eachothers arms he tells you about some ghoul customs, although you can’t hear a whole lot over the… purring? Apparently ghouls do in fact purr when they’re happy and you were not hearing things. Had to have Copia help you realize that one. But he told you about something, the name was in infernal tounge, which is apparently the native tounge in the pit. But it seemed similar to promise rings.

From your understanding, ghouls who were mating would forge a ring of this extremely tough material that’s found in the pit, it’s hard to find and even harder to meld into shape. He told you that if you could find that material and mold it perfectly to fit the chosen partner and return it then you were fated to be together. In turn you told phantom about your newly acquired fact and in turn would tell him about human courting and dating culture, like how in most cultures people also exchange rings, and get their love officiated in often times extravagant ceremonies. And you promised him one day you’d take him on a human date, once he properly learned how to glamour.

It was hard at first, learning how to balance phantom with your learning and the tasks you had quickly picked up around the den. It would turn out most siblings of sin arent brave enough to come down here to do their chores. So you were the go to for any task that had to be done by a human granted you could be pulled from phantoms death grasp long enough to accomplish anything of course leading to more phantom cuddles and scenting. The more you let it happen the nicer it became you had to admit it was pretty nice to have someone caring about you so much that they wanted to coddle you.

But on your next escapade from the ghouls den you quickly learned that ghouls can also have a protective streak. This was abit of a later trip then you would usually be on, if you had to take a guess Terzo might’ve gotten his dick stuck in the eyehole of a ghouls mask… again. Wasn’t your job to question though. On your route to Copias quarters you were cornered by some siblings of sin. They caught you in the old corridors, which was very strange because no one was supposed to have access to this place.

“Can I help you folks?” You muttered out with the confusion clearly lacing your words. The siblings snickered at you cruelly jeering like hyenas when you tried to duck around them only to be stepped infront of by one of them.

“Arent you the ghoul fucker?” The tallest of the flock sneers, confused you step back only to hit the wall “I’m sorry the what?” The siblings just laugh at your confusion, looking to and from one another and oogling you like a circus freak.

“You’re fucking that new ghoul aren’t you? The one that’s replacing the Aether ghoul?” They repeat, watching you with the eyes of a hawk. The two on either side of her chuckle and close in on you, forcing you to curl closer into yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you could see a flash of weirdly coloured fog, though it’s probably nothing.

“Im not ‘fucking’ anyone. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Everyone always knew you were a whore, are you trying to get into papas pants through his ghouls? Or are you just a slut like that? You know none of the ghouls would even care about you right? They’re monsters! They can’t feel any real human emotions, you’re delusional if you think any of them care about you. It will dump you out once it finds something better to have at.”

You flinched away at the siblings cruel words. They didn’t know anything about your bond with phantom and the others. You knew they were nothing like these siblings of sin said. Taking a deep breath, you recentred yourself and just stare at the group. Using all the i don’t give a shit energy you’ve picked up from Mountain to deter them.

They didn’t seem to like this very much because they started stepping closer and closer, if you’re being honest you felt like the nerd kid in any 90s high school setting getting their lunch money taken by the bully jocks. Before they could pick you up by your feet and shake all the coins from your pocket like a rag doll and give you a swirlie in the school toilet, the smallest of the group was shot to the floor in a heap of black, white, and.. lavender? Oh shit.

Phantom must have come to find you, or one of the ghouls seen the sibling bothering you and went to tell your mate. Before you could wrack your brain you were torn away by the scream of the other two siblings who were backing away from the scene. Within an instant papa was out of his quarters, clearly having just woken up given the disheveled look he was in, only having on his Mickey Mouse pyjama pants and being bare chested on top. Wait, does papa have top surgery scars? Oh cool. You could tell papa was a little fruity, now you knew why. Quickly you and Copia worked together to get phantom away from the sibling who didn’t seem to be hurt, looked to be a few cuts from phantoms claws.. he has claws?? The sibling probably had a few bumps and bruises from the fall too.

Papa took the three siblings after you abashedly gave him the file you were supposed to, leaving you to calm down Phantom, Now that everything was calmed down, you quickly realized Phantom didn’t have his mask on which was a surprise because on one hand, the ghouls aren’t supposed to have their masks off anywhere average siblings could see them and two, Phantom hasn’t taken off his mask around you yet, when you two first met he had an old Era 3 mask on. He told you he wasn’t the most comfortable with his face, telling you that he had gotten pretty beaten up during his summoning, and that he had birthmarks he didn’t like. You couldn’t see why, he has Lichtenberg scar righ down his left eye and moving down and across the bridge of his nose the eye it when through was a lighter shade of purple then his right, you found him beautiful but he really didn’t like it, you’re probably gonna have to give him a lot of cuddles tonight.

Once everyone was away from the scene, Phantom stared into your face, breathing heavy. It felt as though everything fell silent and still. Until Phantom ran at you, and picked you up into a bridal carry, without speaking her took you back to the den. When you arrived in the lounge the other ghouls all watched you, with Cirrus and Aurora coming up to check on you. Phantom held you away possessively from the woman, He ignored everyone and took you to your shared room.

You were definitely right about having to give him extra cuddles that night. When he laid you down and got into bed, before dragging you onto his chest and taking your face in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently handling your face as he looked it over for scars, in turn you grab his face and kiss his own scars, using your spare hand to guide his hand to feel your heart beat.

“I should be asking you that, bug. You didn’t have to fight them for me. They’re just jealous.” He growls at the mention of the incident, gently nibbling at your hand that held his face. He doesn’t reply but gently shifts you from his chest and goes to his chest of draws, he rustles around and grabs an short for you and puts it on the bed for you before grabbing his own clothes

“I’d be a bad mate if I didn’t.” He leaves to get changed and you get into the shirt, and gently re arrange the nest to be comfortable for a good nap. You can hear Cirrus checking up on phantom and the muttering of Their conversation. Once phantom is back, you curl into his side as phantom purrs and hums the tune of Little Sunshine.

Deep down you think you’ll be just fine with your mate.

—————————————————————————

[A/N; WE DID IT! I hit major writers block with this, I wanna thank you all for the love on Part one, and especially @pinklunarprincess for supporting my posts thus far, you were the first person (from my memory) to encourage me with part one and I thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, I’m too exhausted to beta read right now so if I missed anything PLEASE let me know, I’m working on another little fic idea I’ve had so hopefully something will be out soon<3 love you all and thank you

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

four | chapter list

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you. 

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, implied chubby!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You hadn’t realised moving right along your hemisphere would be enough to change the weather. The UK is cold and often rain-soaked, while Genovia has been nothing but sunny. It's a nice change, and the sun on your skin almost removes the insecurity of wearing a dress that isn’t yours. You feel pretty. You feel as yourself as you have in the days since this whole thing began. 

“Sorry,” James says, standing in the sunshine with his hands crossed primly behind his back, “you’re what?”

You sit up properly in the window seat. He deserves every ounce of respect that you can give him, he’s been nothing but caring and kind since you met. You almost regret your decision to leave, if only because you wont get to witness him and his nice friends. 

Who will be separated once again, your brain adds helpfully. Thanks to you. 

“I'm going home.” Your sketchbook is supple under your hands, a thick and expensive leather bending from the force of your squeeze.  

He has the most professional look on his face you've ever seen from him. “If you’ve forgotten something-”

“James,” you say. You'd said quite plainly only moments ago your intentions. “I can't be a princess.” You soften your tone. “I’m sorry.”

“You are a princess. By blood.”

Sleeping on it hasn't made it a truth that’s any easier to accept. You are biologically the daughter of the late Prince of Genovia. He was your father, and now he’s dead. It is agonising to think of, and so you can’t. You look down at the sketchbook pressed flush to your linen skirts, the fabric plain and yet gorgeously rendered. It’s the nicest thing you’ve ever worn. You wonder if they might let you keep it after you renounce your title. 

“I can't do this,” you say quietly. 

You’re ashamed of yourself, but you really can't do this. You cannot live through your life changing in such a huge way, you aren’t built for it; you've only just learned to function in your tiny flat on your equivalent uni course. You’re finally in a position, as lonely as it might be, where you feel okay with who you are. If you were to accept the task theyre trying to hoist upon you, become a princess, live forever in the limelight surrounded by a better breed of royal, it’ll destroy you.

“You can. Of course you can.”

You look up cautiously. James’ mouth is set in a line. He looked so pleased when he walked in, and he'd given you a compliment subtly and easy as breathing. You worry he wants to take it back now that you’ve thrown in the towel, but he’d never do anything so spiteful. And it’s silly —you’re thinking about a compliment while his life and job are teetering. 

It’s just one of the reasons you aren't cut out for this. 

“It’s your job to be a good judge of character, right? You read people,” you say tentatively. 

He nods. “Yeah. That’s how I know you can do this.”

You set aside your sketchbook and pencil, wringing your hands together as you stand. “You must see it, James. I’m not meant for this, I’m…” Weak, you won't say. There's no use in dramatics. You plaster a smile over your worrying and wear it like you're sure of yourself. “It will be better for everyone if I give up now.”

James looks over his shoulder. Upon his entry, the guard at your side had moved to the doorway to stand with Daniels, and so the room is empty besides the two of you. He takes a step toward you, and he drops his head noticeably. As if he could intimidate you when he's so so sweet. 

“It won't be better for everyone,” he says slowly. “Not for the people of Genovia, they need an heir to take the throne.”

“Julianna–”

“Julianna isn't eligible.” He shakes his head. “It’s hard to explain. But Genovia needs a queen, a good queen, someone with a good heart.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the idea of ruling. “James, you don't even know me. I could ruin everything.”

“You said it yourself, Princess. I’m a good judge of character.”

You fall silent. You don't want to argue with him, you don't have even an ounce of malice for him. 

"You're a princess, you– you haven't even tried," he says pleadingly. 

You trick yourself into thinking James wants you to stay because he wants to be your friend. You know you're desperate for one. Back home, the closest you have to friends are the people who wait at the same bus stop each morning and each night, or your classmates at the college. James could be your friend, you know he would be if you stayed. He's remarkably kind. 

But James wants you to stay for a myriad of reasons. For Genovia. For his friends. 

"I just want to go home," you confess weakly. 

Heat rises to your cheeks and throat, a lump you can't swallow. 

"Okay," James says. "Alright." 

He nods at you, a picture of a perfect professional, and turns to leave. You open your mouth to say something, but you don't have a clue as to what, and by the time he's left the room you've drummed up nothing more than a pitiful, "James." 

You're part way to unexplainable tears when Remus appears. He looks startled at your expression, and you can't make any sense of it yourself, so you mumble, "Please don't ask." 

"Do you want a tissue?" he asks sympathetically. 

You shake your head. 

Remus looks unhappy again, as he had on the plane. His pale skin is nearly grey. You debate asking if he's doing okay, but you've just told him to leave you alone. You assume from his expression he'd prefer the same. 

"Do you want to come have some dinner with me?" he asks. 

"That's okay, I don't think I'll be in need of any etiquette training after all," you say. 

"As friends," he says. "Please. I don't like going down to the kitchen by myself, Marlene harasses me." 

Marlene, a dark haired, dark-eyed girl with a sweetheart shaped face and hands covered in tiny burns, does harass Remus, but not in the way you'd thought. 

"Eat up, Moony," she says, placing yet another plate in front of him, bringing the total up to ten. 

You sit thigh to thigh with him on a small bench set aside in a room just off the kitchens that says 'Staff Only' on the door. Despite this, no one has objected to your sitting down. At least, not yet. 

"Marlene, I physically cannot eat all this." 

"Ah, but the Princess will help." Marlene smiles at you. She seems genuine. "She needs to get used to our cuisine." 

You can't endure the awkwardness of explaining your situation. You smile 'til your eyes crinkle in the corners and take a big mouthful of some mysterious soup rather than speak. 

"Ah, Remus, we've been making bone broth for Her Majesty, it's supposed to do wonders for your heart," Marsha adds. She's the opposite of Marlene but no less beautiful, pale and blonde as cornsilk with fine eyebrows and translucent lashes. In the sun leaking in from the window, she's quite golden. "We can set you some aside whenever we make it for her, love." 

Remus smiles. "Thank you." 

Marsha and Marlene both sequester themselves again behind the huge silver ovens. You've never seen anything like it, a marvel of modern machinery in the industrial instrumentation that heats the room. The windows have been thrown open to combat the thick and fragrant air, but you're still sweating. 

"D'you need a drink?" he asks. 

"I can't get them." 

"Please, Princess. I don't need another person trying to take care of me." He doesn't say it spitefully, but you're sorry all the same. 

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to patronise you–" 

"I know," he says, standing up. "Trust me, I know. You're just being polite, because you're nice." He smiles. "I'll get us a carafe, okay?" 

A carafe. Of what? Do royals drink only from carafes? Is it weird to ask for a coke? You turn your gaze back to the rich foods that have been laid out in front of you and pick up a fork. Then, upon reflection, you swap the fork for the appropriate one, and finish the small portion of chicken ragù you'd set aside. 

"Ah-ha!" a familiar voice calls. "Y/N! Here you are. Is my Remus with you, or are you very hungry?" 

You twist on the bench to face him. "Your Remus?" 

Your question slipped out, really. Sirius grins and sits down to your right. "We have to talk funeral." 

"Oh. Alright." 

He clasps your forearm for a gentle second.

"Sorry. Truly. I'm so sorry for your loss. I promise I'll make this as easy for you as I can, okay? You'll be in the public eye, and I want to make sure you do nothing that anyone can fault you for." 

He has a strange mouth. Not ugly, a million miles from it, but unexpected. It pulls down into a grimace as he talks, his hand patting yours. 

"I won't have to speak, will I?" 

He shakes his head firmly. "No. All you have to do is look pretty and dress well. You're already doing the first part beautifully by yourself, and I will make sure you have plenty of options for the second part, yeah?" 

"Oh, hi, Sirius," Remus says, back with a carafe and two glasses.

"Hello," Sirius says, "did you get asked about the bone broth yet?" 

Remus sits on your other side and huffs. "Yes. Did you put them up to that?" 

"The opposite! I told them not to bug you about it because bone broth sounds a little…" 

"Old-fashioned?" 

"Inhumane." 

You laugh and fail to smother it with the back of your hand. It feels weird because it hadn't explicitly been a conversation involving you, but neither tell you off or give you a funny look. Remus laughs at your laughing and pours your drink for you, a pale orange liquid topped by slices of orange, blood orange and white flowers. 

You take a cautious sip. 

"Have you seen my darling James this morning?" Sirius asks Remus from behind you. 

"Not since he left my room."

You choke on your drink. Hands smashed to your mouth, juice drips down your arms and ruins the bodice of your dress, sticky orange and spit everywhere. The boys either side of you splutter in shock, though Sirius begins to laugh as Remus presses a tissue into your hands. 

"Are you okay?" Remus asks, patting your back. 

"I'm fine," you say hoarsely, wiping yourself down with impressive speed as the heat of embarrassment rises. 

"Something go down the wrong pipe?" 

You're honest by accident, extremely startled by your choking and the subsequent question, "I didn't know James and Remus– that you were– sorry, I was just surprised–" 

"Oh, no," Remus says, sounding almost as embarrassed as you now, "no, we aren't. I mean, he's my best friend. He's like my brother." 

"Oh," you say, squeaking, desperately hoping the ground will open up and eat you whole. 

"We aren't romantically involved," Remus says, and you get the sense that's where he plans to end this conversation. 

"Yet," Sirius whispers in your ear. 

Remus shakes his head at you solemnly. 

Desperate to get away from an awkward conversation despite Sirius' good humour, you stand up from the bench and duck your head at both of them. "Um, I'll just go get some paper towels. Sorry. For spitting." 

"Forgiven," Sirius says easily. 

You rush away from them both out of the alcove and into the main body of the kitchen. Heads turn as you walk, and some staff even take the time to incline their heads to you like a small bow, but you ignore them all and head straight for Marlene. She smiles when she senses your approach, full lips cherry red and shiny as she asks, "Is there something I can do for you, Your Highness?" 

"I'm so sorry," you begin, "I've made a mess, could I get some kitchen towel? Sorry." 

"Of course! Can I have someone come and clean it up for you?" 

"No, please, it's my mess, and you've been gracious enough to allow me in your space. I couldn't have anyone else do it." 

"It's really no problem," Marlene says, but she walks to the utility cupboard south of the huge pantry and produces a roll of kitchen towels for you. 

"Thank you." Then, because you might be leaving soon, and she should know, "I– I've never had so many nice foods at once. I can't cook, at home. Everything I eat is from a jar or a tin," —you cough, worried that was an overshare— "and it's nothing compared to all of this. You guys are amazing." 

Marlene's smile softens. You hadn't realised she was being diplomatic until genuineness welled to the surface of her expression, her eyes suddenly brighter, and her smile unrestrained. "We work hard, and we love what we do. Thank you, Your Highness."

You rub your lips together and nod. Spinning on your heel, you navigate out of the kitchen as quickly as you can without running clean into someone and return to the staff alcove, where Remus and Sirius sit with their heads together, in the middle of a conversation you can't hear. 

You hesitate a few steps away. Remus smiles widely, so widely his face changes completely, and Sirius' hand drifts to his elbow. His thumb presses into the crook, and they both giggle together like kids. You're paranoid that they're laughing at you, and wondering how you could think for even a second that Remus was sleeping with James, when Sirius tucks his hair behind his ear and says, "I can't believe we're finally in the same place again." 

You back away. Not sure what to do with yourself, not sure if what you've already done is the wrong thing. You're guilty, and you're afraid of making the wrong choice, having already made it.

A hand pats your shoulder. 

"Sorry, Mikkelson," you say. 

It's not Mikkelson. James' hand lingers on your shoulder for a half second before he takes a step back. 

"Walk with me?" he asks. 

—

James takes you out to the Palace Gardens. You insist on walking side by side, and he agrees for the most part because here is where you're best protected.

"I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly. I had something to do. How are you feeling?" 

"How am I feeling?" you ask softly. "I don't…" 

"You had some very big news yesterday. So, how are you feeling?" 

You squint in the sun. James supposes you aren't used to it, considering you'd been living in one of the rainiest cities in the UK, which is one of the greyest countries in the world. 

"I feel fine," you say. 

Truth or lie. Probably a lie, but James can't call you out on it, considering your relatively new relationship. A professional relationship at that, the lines of which he has already crossed multiple times. 

He can't help it. You're not weak, you aren't in need of his protection for lack of character —you're quite obviously very brave considering the insane pressure of your situation. Brave, but it's James' job anyhow to be your shield. 

You get this look on your face like you're deep in thought, he's seen it every day since he met you five days ago, and it reminds him of his melancholy friends. He wonders how he's going to get rid of it. 

"I've spoken to our Palace doctor." Even though it is not his job, James seems to have taken on the majority of your care. Your lady in waiting has yet to arrive, and Sirius is rather busy arranging your presence at your father's funeral (and hounding Remus, having missed him dearly). "She would love to have an appointment with you, to assess you, and to adjust for your medical needs. But it's not the physical that I'm concerned about, it's your head." 

"My head." 

"Yes. I would love for you to talk to a counsellor, or a therapist while you're here." 

"What's the point?" you ask sincerely. 

"Your father has passed away," he says. "That takes a toll." 

"I didn't even really know him." You speak so softly to him, like you're worried your voice will disrupt the summer air. 

"I know. That doesn't always make it easier. I want you to experience the compassion and care that you deserve, that's all. If you don't want to talk to anyone, I understand. But if you'll humour me, I'd appreciate it." 

"When… do you want me to see her?" 

"The doctor?" James winces at his own surprise. "You can see her whenever you want to. She's completely at your discretion." 

"Oh, okay. Well, when is best for her?" 

James doesn't smile, but he wants to. "I believe she goes home to pick up her son at six. So before then would probably suit her best. But she's on call twenty four hours a day and paid well, I promise." 

"Okay. Um. Well, how do I do that? Make an appointment, or?" 

"I can make it for you. Or Sirius can."

"I can't make it myself?" 

"No, you can. Do you want me to call for someone to get her? Or you can ask the phone to connect you?" 

You stop walking at your slow pace and turn your body to the beds of flowers lining the path. Small and dainty flowers much like a Californian wildflower bloom contained to rows. 

"Would you mind doing it for me?" you ask. You sound shame-faced. 

"No, I wouldn't mind. When do you want to see her?" James asks. 

"Not today, please. Maybe tomorrow." 

James makes a mental note to ask you about it tomorrow. She really is on call —there's no need to make an appointment. But there's also no need to correct you and no need to worry about it now. 

"The Prince, may he rest in peace, will be buried in five days. You're sure you don't mind staying until then?" He doesn't want you to leave, but the memory of your plea twists his guts. I just want to go home.

"I–yes. Of course. I owe it." 

James doesn't know about that. But the Prince never did any harm to you, though he never made any efforts to take care of you, and so it won't hurt for you to attend. Still…

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I know that Lily and Emmeline stressed that your presence was desired, but that's political. It's the image of the country, of our country. And the UK, who's royal family, as you know yourself, are deeply embroiled in scandal and, ah, what's thought to be empty rhetoric." 

You're starting to look rather frazzled. James decides to pull back his professionalism a touch. 

"Genovia protects the image of the Royal family because they've seen how ire builds in other countries. Deserved ire. They want it to seem as though you are cohesive, cooperative, and not–" 

"A secret." 

"Yes. If you'd gone to Oxford, they would've lied," —he shouldn't be saying this, for the record— "and said you'd been extradited for your safety. Or spun some tale about a normal childhood." 

"But I'm a drop out who lives in a one bedroom flat." 

"Yes." He watches the side of your face. Your eyes are glued to the flowers and unwavering. "I don't think there's any shame in that." 

"Thanks," you mumble. 

You don't believe him. He doesn't mind. He has plenty of time to convince you of your worth. 

"Would you like to pick some of the flowers?" he asks. 

"I don't want to ruin anyone's hard work." 

"They won't mind." 

You crouch down, reaching for the flowers. Your fingers weave through the dark stems of gorgeous purple and pink flowers, their colours so marvellously vibrant yet their shapes elegant enough to suit. You choose a purple flower with white edges and pick it gently. After a moment, you pick a second. 

You stand, holding the flowers between your thumb and forefinger. 

You clutch your flowers like small lifelines as he walks you back into the palace. You worry audibly about the location of your new sketchbook, and don't seem to like it when one of the guards who'd been watching you this morning seamlessly removes himself from a wall with the book in hand. 

James asks you what you want to do and you don't know. You aren't hungry, you aren't in the mood for movies or music and it might seem disrespectful for you to be seen at the theatre —not that James thinks you would spend much time there anyhow. You don't want to do anything at all, so James suggests that you retire to your private quarters and have some time to yourself. 

He takes up station by the door, listening to the dull scratching of your pencil for a good hour. He wonders if, occasionally, you're talking to yourself: there isn't much to go off of, the suggestion of your voice rather than the reality. You could be humming. You might be clearing your throat. 

An hour later and there's silence. 

James pulls his radio from his shoulder. Guarding you when you aren't up for talking is, unfortunately, rather dull. And he worries what it is you're upto; quiet is indicative of absence. 

"Sirius?" he asks the radio. 

Sirius does not often wear a radio, and he has his pager even less. It's a wonder he gets anything done. 

"James?" Remus asks, his voice crackling over the channel. 

"Hey, is Sirius with you?" 

"He's not. He's assembling a potential funeral wardrobe for Her Highness. Do you want me to go look for him?" 

James almost laughs. "I have people for that. Mikkelson?" 

He can practically hear Mickey's groan at being picked on before the man picks up his radio and says, "Yeah, sir?" 

"Find Mr. Black, won't you? Thank you." 

Hoping Sirius is on his way, James knocks your door. 

He, professionally (and he is trying so hard to be a professional), should call you Princess or Your Highness. But both titles make your skin crawl now that they're fact, so he opts for neither. 

"Are you alright in there?" he asks. 

You don't answer. James sighs and eases open your door. He wouldn't usually, not every silence is ominous, and your privacy is a right, but your safety is the priority and at the moment you're a high level target whether James agrees with that assessment or not. If he were to ignore protocol, and you were annihilated, he would go to prison for a long, long time. 

You're asleep at the desk. 

James is honestly surprised. It can't be comfortable, and your bed is probably one of the comfiest in the world with a state of the art orthopaedic mattress and duck-down pillows and quilts. What's worse, your desk chair is solid wood and likely fifty years old. The crick in your neck and the damage to your back will be extraordinary. 

And yet, it isn't James' job to wake you up. 

Professionally, James should leave. He should go back to his posting at the door. He has no need to wake you. 

You're frowning in your sleep. When you wake, he imagines you'll have graphite rubbed into your cheek. 

James sighs and leaves the room. 

"You wanted to see me?" Sirius asks, sounding spritely as he walks down the hallway toward him. 

"Hello," James says, and if they were in school he would stand up from a slouching pose against the wall and collect Sirius into a bear hug, slapping his back, maybe pulling a lock of his hair while saying something flirtatious. 

He stands at rigid attention. 

"Drop the stance, my love," Sirius says. James snorts. "There's no one here to see you." 

"It's not the point." 

"I know. What did you want? I'm quite busy." 

"Could you start carrying your pager, please? Or better, a radio? Then you wouldn't have to cross the entire building to find me." 

"You could've called me?" Sirius suggests. 

"I don't have a phone while I'm working." 

"Well, that's silly."

"I was…" He lowers his voice. "I'm worried the Princess is lonely." 

"Then go talk to her." 

"I can't. You know as well as I do that the point of my being here is to protect her to the best of my ability, and that requires an unaffected point of view. I can't give her my full attention while giving her safety my full attention, that doesn't add up." 

"Then grab a couple of other men and then go speak to her." 

"This is my job, Sirius. I'm paid to do this." 

"Not paid to make sure she's in company," Sirius says. He smiles at James like he's won the argument and James, brimming with brotherly affection, wants to chop him in the stomach. 

"Her mental health–" 

"Yes, I know. Just as important as physical. And while you wear the badge with pride, James, it still isn't your job." Sirius leans against the wall opposite. The hallways here are huge. It is quite the gap. "I was thinking I'd make her an appointment with Cindy." 

"She said she'll make one tomorrow." 

"Oh, brilliant. You know, Cindy's getting a divorce?" 

"I didn't know that," James says. "How do you know that?" 

Sirius taps the side of his nose before crossing his arms tightly across his chest, looking smug. "She's very single now, Jamie. And very pretty, she's a redhead." 

"Sirius…" 

Sirius stands, stretches and meets James at your doorway. "Okay, fine, I can see you're not in the mood." 

"It's not because of you." 

"I know that, thanks," Sirius says, stepping on James' steel-capped boot as he pushes past him. 

"Sirius–" 

Sirius pulls his hand back from your door handle. "What?" he asks.

"She's sleeping. Try to wake her nicely." 

"If she's sleeping, why does she need company?" 

James nods toward your door insistently. 

Sirius does as he's being asked because he's a sweetheart with entirely too much time for James, despite also being on the clock. James can't see anything from his position, but he can hear your conversation. 

Sirius lets himself into the room. He likely shakes your shoulder with care as he says, "Princess Y/N, poor darling, are you alright?" 

"Sorry," you say scratchily. Here James thinks you might've lifted your head and discovered the crick in your neck. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I supposed to be somewhere?" 

"No." There's an unmistakable fondness in Sirius tone, hiding just beneath the practised facade that comes with working for Royalty. "Do you want me to help you into bed? Or call for an attendant?" 

"No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Sorry. What did you need?" 

"I have some clothes picked out for you to wear to the funeral proceedings. I want your opinion, but I don't need it right now. You can go back to bed if you like." 

"No," you say. James feels for you. No, no, no. "I can do whatever you need me to." 

"Why don't you freshen up, first? James stole you at dinner, I'll go have him order something sweet to the fitting rooms, alright?" 

"Yes. Thank you." 

"You're welcome."  

Sirius emerges from your room and gives James an elbowing. "You could've woken her up. You're not heartless." 

"I'm technically not allowed in there if she doesn't permit me." 

"She doesn't know that, and I'm sure she'd prefer a wake up call than to be left like that." Sirius rubs one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Sorry, I'm not shouting at you. But I really don't think you need to worry about permission and not speaking to her. She's not Julianna," his voice drops to a murmur, "she doesn't think she's above us." 

"I don't care if she does," James says honestly. Not because he thinks you should feel superior, but because he learned a long time ago that people do, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. "Mary's back tomorrow. If she catches even a whiff of how I've been behaving–" 

Sirius holds James' gaze. "Poor girl had pencil on her face." 

"Yes." 

"They're going to eat her alive." 

"Probably." 

"But we won't let them," Sirius says. 

"Not willingly." 

Sirius nods. "Are you coming with us?" 

"Yeah." He checks his watch. "Couple hours left yet 'til six. Are you off at the same time?" 

"No, are you kidding? I finish at three like a normal person." 

"That's not normal. Ever heard the phrase nine to five?" 

"Normal compared to the royals, who work never to never." 

James shushes him. Sirius shushes James back. 

"Are we ready to go?" you ask. 

James grins at the shock on Sirius' face, as if to say, What, you didn't hear her? Even though he'd barely heard your approach himself. A picture of politeness, Sirius ushers you down the hallway with him. 

You trek down onto the first floor, through the huge foyer and into the main section of the palace hiding behind the grand banquet hall. Here resides the fitting rooms, not too far from the servants quarters in case the tailors or maids are required. 

Sirius calls for an attendant despite the horror on your face at the suggestion as he leads you into the biggest fitting room. It's almost like a shop, in that it houses racks upon racks of clothing no doubt loaned in for Sirius' perusal. 

He drags a smaller rack to the centre of the room. 

"How do you feel about trying things on? Do you need a partition?" Sirius looks at you for a few seconds. "I'll call for one." 

You look like you've been slapped. 

James clears his throat. "He knows you're shy," he says. 

You take that much better. "Yeah. I do want the partition. Please." 

James weighs up the possibility of your possible murder and decides the chances are still too high to offer to leave. He truly won't be able to see you behind the partition, and it's not worth the administrative hell in any case. He hates how his job makes him constantly aware of how you might be murdered, but he likes knowing he could protect you with force. It evens out. 

"A fancy education may have helped me be where I am today, but it doesn't account for style or taste." Sirius smiles, propping himself on the arm of a suede armchair. "Which is my saying that you don't have to like what I like, and if you hate stuff just say. I won't be offended, Your Highness." 

"Please, no Your Highness," you murmur. 

"James says I dress like a socialite with too much money and not enough taste." 

"I do say that," James says.

You laugh under your breath. "Well, I'm sure you've better taste than me. I've never been to an event like this, I don't want to embarrass myself, so, um, don't let me." 

"I won't," Sirius says. 

Sirius understands the fashion tastes of the elite even if he doesn't personally enact them. He passes you an outfit, and you disappear behind the propped up partition to change. With the windows closed and the curtains drawn, only the overhead light is in play, and your shadow is reflected onto the floor to the left. James averts his eyes. 

You try on a couple of outfits. James tries very hard to look as though he's not paying attention to your squirming unhappiness at the fit and look of your clothes. You get more and more embarrassed as time moves forward. The attendant Sirius summoned, a tailor named Melinda, offers suggestions of alterations and what she thinks would suit your silhouette most. 

"Do I have one?" you ask.

"A silhouette?" Melinda asks, a push pin in between her teeth. "Sure you do." 

"My stomach–" 

"Is that a problem area?" Melinda asks. 

"I thought so–" 

"If you're worried, we can find something that fits the to the chest and loosens at your abdomen," Sirius says, "but I don't think you need to worry." 

James agrees. You aren't skinny and James isn't stupid, he knows the immense stigma surrounding your body type must have battered your self-esteem growing up, but he thinks you're pretty and that you've a lovely shape to you. The idea that you have to hide certain body parts when there's nothing wrong with them in the first place has him biting his tongue, wanting to comment and knowing he definitely should not. You've looked nice in everything you've put on, smart and proper for an unfortunate event. 

"I don't know," you mumble. 

Sirius has amazing crisis averting senses, having micromanaged a spoiled narcissist for years. You don't require nearly as much petting or fawning, and you aren't throwing a tantrum either way. 

"Let's finish for today," he says. "We can look at everything with fresh eyes, and I'm off at three."   

James cringes and Melinda looks at him like he's grown a second head; you don't mention the end of a shift in front of the royals. He knows this, and he knows that you don't know this, so Sirius is absolutely pushing his luck. You're a thoughtful girl —you immediately agree. 

Though that might be on account of how you look like you've been thrown a life raft. "Okay, thank you," you say, beginning to put clothes back on their hangers. 

Sirius waves you away. "Leave some work for the rest of us, Your Sweetness." 

Again, second head. 

James opens the door and takes you back through the maze of the Palace before Sirius can commit a sackable offence. You're as quiet as you've been all day, your footsteps the only proof that you're present as you climb the steps to the second floor. 

Professionalism, James thinks. 

"I think you looked nice in everything," he says. 

The opposite of professionalism. Oh, he could vault over the bannister. 

He just wanted to see you smile today, a real smile, or at least hear something sure in your voice that proves he's made the right decision. That you won't be totally miserable if he convinces you to take on the mantle. 

"Yeah?" you say, though you don't give him any time to answer. "I don't– I don't want to look good for a funeral, it's a funeral, but I know it'll be on TV, and maybe in the newspapers, so I don't want to be badly dressed and I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to even like…" You nibble your lip for a while before heaving a big sigh. "Sorry, I'm doing this again, I'm giving you jobs that aren't your job." 

"It's relatively easy to tell you that you looked good. It's not a job." 

"You don't have to comfort me, is what I mean." 

"That's also easy… and it will definitely be in the newspapers. For a long time."

"Oh, sugar." 

James holds his hand out as you trip up a short step, but you don't fall, and you don't need his offered help. He tucks his hand behind his back again and follows your lead. 

"Newspapers, the news in general, people, they can all be very, very horrible, but I think the focus will be on your DNA, rather than your outfit. I mean, the gossip rags and tabloids will absolutely pick you apart, but they do it everybody, and I won't let you read those." 

People are cruel. They don't even realise it. 

"Whatever outfit you choose, you'll look good, and people will hate it anyway," he says. 

"That sounds awful." 

"It is. But… they can't stop you from being you. It's better to do what you want to do without worrying about how it'll look to everyone on the outside. You should do what you think is right." 

Okay, he's not exclusively talking about clothes anymore, but his point stands. 

"What if I look like an idiot?" you ask him quietly. 

"You'll look like an exceedingly well-dressed one." 

A sharp veer. Even the word 'professionalism' is starting to annoy him. 

"Don't stress, yeah? We'll work it all out tomorrow." 

You rub your elbow as the two of you approach your room again. "Thanks, James." 

He's on a knife's edge here. Break the rules and face Mary's wrath. Stick to them blindly and drive you further and further from the crown. 

James, selfishly, needs you to want this. And if you need a friend, a real friend, to do that, then he can toe the line. He decides it right there on your door jam.

"Princess," he says, "I have to talk to you about something." 

"Okay… what is it?" 

"When you go home, I'll be coming with you." 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! if you did, I’d love it if you let me know <3 also sry the next part should hopefully be delivered faster lol

[loftec]

Shameless DVD Commentary: None the wiser

I was tagged by a lovely anon over at @shamelessdvdcommentary to do this, thank you! Here we gooo

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

The people (11 out of 20) have spoken! None the wiser

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

First published: 2015-09-23 (coming up on 9 years what is time??)

Last updated: 2021-12-11 (holy heck that's... shit! I'm sorry!)

Words: 218,480 and counting

Chapters: 53/68

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

A little bit of everything, mostly I'd been reading a lot of Shameless fic at the time and really wanted to write something that was both a really quite basic diner/coffee shop AU, but The Most version of it. The slowest burn, the most diner AU. I had no ambition for people to like it but I wanted it to be Known. If anyone ever asked for a diner fic, they'd HAVE to say, well, NTW is The Most diner fic we've got. If someone asked for slow burn, people would sigh and say, WELL, this one over here is the worst, but it is very slow. And also I was inspired by Before Sunrise / Before Sunset, and working in the music industry.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

I chose Mickey specifically because of the Concept, that Ian decides when the chapters start and end (with some exceptions) by going to the diner, but we're limited to Mickey's POV. Generally I think Mickey is easier for me to write, too, he's got a really strong voice and I like looking at the world (and Ian) through his eyes.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The whole banter/walk scene in chapter 44 when they leave the venue:

“Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to,” he says, “I believe in you.” Ian is silent, and when Mickey risks a glance in the direction of him and his non-trumpeting goddamned marvelous lips, Ian is looking at him like he’s some kind of unsolved mystery. ”What?” Mickey asks, frowning at him when Ian smiles. “Just a thought,” he says. ”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

I had that whole back and forth leading up to the first kiss in my head for years before I got to finally got around to write it and I still love it.

How did you come up with the title?

It's from a song, one of the core songs I associate with this fic. My playlist now has 149 tracks on it, but the ones I consider "core songs" are None the wiser, Day After Tomorrow, Let's Dance, How I Made My Millions, Not Dark Yet, and Mosquitoes. I'm not sure I can explain why, but None The Wiser came on randomly when I was doing dishes and thinking about this fic I was writing, and the vibes just lined up in my head. Also I think it fits this version of Mickey I'm writing, who knows so much and has so much experience, but refuses to understand what's happening when Ian walks into his life.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

Oh, wow. Yeah. I always reference silly little things and I just have to hope people understand them, or tolerate them at least. I think one of my favourite bit of foreshadowing is in chapter 39 when people keep staring at Ian because they obviously recognise him, but Mickey thinks staring at Ian is a completely reasonable thing to do and is mostly just annoyed over how blatant they're being.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I am struggling right now lol, I had meticulous notes for what I wanted to happen for every single chapter up until 45, and now half of them say "they text all day" and I'm like THANKS!!! VERY HELPFUL!! Also life and writers block etc etc.

Favourite line in the story?

This is such a hard choice, so I'll just go with this one from chapter 42:

“So,” Ian says, sitting back to sweep his arms out in a wide motion, presenting his solution. “I think we should go out for breakfast sometime.”

Because to me it pinpoints the moment when Ian breaks the format, in a way? They have met outside the diner before, but only on accident, and here Ian realises that it might be a problem that they only ever hang out at Mickey's job. But metatextually, he also highlights the narrative crux they're stuck in. I don't know, is that a boring favourite line? I have many, and I grabbed the first one I saw so I wouldn't get stuck rereading the whole fic lol. Do you have a favourite line?

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

So much, it's hard to believe because there isn't too much of a plot, but so much. My planned ending is so far from what it was when I started out, which is maybe one blessing that comes from how long it's taking me to write it, I have time to rethink things. I can't really talk about it now without spoiling the actual ending, but you better believe I will expose myself once we get to it.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

I'd written fic for a different fandom ten years earlier, but nothing in this style I don't think, and this was my first time writing since I was 20 and stopped writing jrock rpf. I suppose I'm still writing about music, though!

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

One of the things I've always wanted to do with writing for Ian and Mickey is to let them have conversations, have things in common, and be friends. Because I think they were in canon, we just never got to see it (in the first 5 seasons, careful what you wish for). Guess I'm saying I'm proud of the bants!

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

I don't think so! I mean, maybe the last 15 chapters? I kid! They will make it!

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

There is one line Ian says where, when I wrote it, I was like; this is the first time Ian thinks "I love you" but says something else. Cannot remember what or where right now, and I don't want to try and find it, it's late! Submit your guesses here, I might find it over the weekend if I have some time to look. Also, it's like one of those silly I love yous, one of the early ones, full of potential and feeling but perhaps lacking a bit in substance, but he thought it and I saw him thinking it!

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

Eh *coughs* I might already have, and I apologise. The worst part about writing something this slowly and posting the chapters as I go is that the fic isn't finished and so I feel like it's fine for me to sometimes go back and edit already published chapters. It's not right but I... will still do it. Sorry! A most embarrassing example is when, not too long ago, we discussed the layout of the diner here and I went back to the first chapter to see how I had described it, and it had changed in so many ways over the years? Small round tables?? The tables haven't been round since 2016!! So that's a very clear case of something having become canon for all the hundred little times I've thought of the tables as square while writing vs that one time in chapter one I carelessly said they were round.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Yes! So many! Or maybe not a sequel, that suggests another part of equal size. But little bits of stories, yes!

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

Yes! Like I said, my only aim was to annoy my way to fandom infamy. Turns out it's so much more fun to actually connect with people and write something with someone else in mind, besides myself. I feel so lucky that so many people have connected with NTW over the years <3

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Mostly just excited, I think! I still am, whenever I get to post something : )

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

No, I probably should have but I have a very hard time showing things to people when they're not finished.

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

Add snippets in the replies and I'll share thoughts, if you want!

Thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3

[milfsloverblog]

Life Eternal (part 1)

Can you hear me say your name forever?

Larissa Weems x former student fem!reader

A/N: Sapphic Yearning at its finest. Don’t fall for your teachers, kids, it will ruin ya! Might be inspired by real events…Title from one of my favourite Ghost song, which you should really listen to if you want to get the full experience. Thinking of turning this into a multiple chapter fic, let me know! <3

ps: really want to insist on the fact that Larissa and reader’s relationship was platonic. Larissa was nothing more than a mentor to reader.

You had been staring at the letter on your lap for the past twenty minutes. Reading it again and again, as if you had not read it a hundred times since receiving it nearly two weeks ago.

“Dear Miss…” You sighed loudly and pushed the letter away, your eyes falling on the signature at the bottom of the page “Sincerely yours, Larissa Weems.”

You emptied the glass of wine you’d poured yourself hoping to find some courage in it. Of course, you were expecting the invite to arrive at some point, it always arrived around the end of May. At least it had for the past five years.

Class reunions. You hated the mere thought of it. Surely the ones that used to be popular loved those reunions, but you…No, you couldn’t bare the thought of seeing her, not after leaving the way you had.

Would she recognise you, you wondered as you threw your jacket on and took a last look in the mirror. You hadn’t changed much in five years and it seemed like she hadn’t forgotten about you. And you definitely hadn’t forgotten about her.

You didn’t even know what made you change your mind after five years of not attending. Perhaps it was the fact that the letter had been handwritten this time instead of typed, or maybe you had been hypnotised by the scent of her perfume that lingered in your room after you’d opened the envelope.

Now that you thought about it, moving out of Jericho had been both a blessing and a curse. You hadn’t moved very far, only a twenty minutes ride, but it was enough to ensure you wouldn’t accidentally stumble on her while doing your grocery shopping.

It was silly, that need you’d felt to run away from Larissa. You knew it was silly and yet you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t have kept acting like she meant nothing more to you than a mentor.

———

“Mom, please…” You had pleaded with your mother, refusing to get out of bed. “I’m telling you I can’t go. I feel too sick.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You did feel sick, but not physically. Your illness was way more insidious than a simple stomachache or a common cold.

“Principal Weems will be so disappointed not to see you.” Your mother had said, standing with her hands on her hips. “I’m sure the poor woman has been impatiently waiting to see you graduate. And now you will let a little sickness take that away from her?”

She always found a way to rub salt into your wounds, even unknowingly. She had no idea. She had no idea that Larissa was the reason why you were refusing to get out of bed that morning.

“Please.” You had said again “Just go and get my diploma. Tell her I will visit whenever I can.”

Now that was a lie. You knew you would never visit Larissa again. You’d made up your mind a while ago already.

Your mother had eventually given up and attended your graduation ceremony alone. Principal Weems had been nothing but professional, your mom had told you, although she’d noticed that Larissa’s smile had seemed a bit forced when she had explained that you were sick and couldn’t be there to receive your diploma.

—————————

You were snapped out of your memory by a car loudly honking behind you, signaling that the light had been green for a few seconds now. How long had you been zoning out for? You hadn’t been to Nevermore in five years and yet it seemed like your brain still remembered the road as if you had left yesterday.

The car park was already nearly full when you arrived and there was no doubt you would be one of the last invitees to show up.

A shiver ran down your spine when you walked through the gate under the Nevermore sign and entered the yard. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just walked into the lion’s den, that the trap was closing in on you.

Looking around at the people you recognised a few familiar faces, werewolves, sirens, and gorgons catching up together instead of segregating themselves like they used to.

Someone calling your name made you turn around, your eyes falling on a face you’d recognise anywhere.

“Enid!” Your lips immediately spread into a smile. She hadn’t changed at all, still that bubbly young woman dressed all in pink.

She pulled you in a tight hug and you grimaced a little, locking eyes with Wednesday who gave you a knowing look.

“So, you two…” You asked when Enid eventually let you go.

“Yes!” Enid answered excitedly as she wrapped her arm around Wednesday’s waist, a small blush creeping on the Addams’ cheeks.

And it made sense, you thought, that the gloomy girl would fall for the bubbly one. Isn’t that what had happened to you too, after all?

Enid excused herself, saying she was going to get some drinks for the three of you. A silence fell between Wednesday and you but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“I knew you would come someday. Enid kept saying we would never see you at a class reunion, but I knew you’d eventually come.” The Addams girl said. “We can’t run from our feelings forever, can we?”

Wednesday smirked devilishly when you looked at her with wide eyes. If she knew, if she had been able to realise, who else had?

Enid reappeared before you could say anything, handing you a cup of what looked like white wine.

“The handwritten invitation was a nice touch.” You said after taking a sip and letting out a small chuckle. “I do wonder where she found the time to handwrite so many invitations though.”

Enid frowned and looked at her girlfriend before looking back at you.

“You received a handwritten invitation?” She asked. “Because we only got the good old computer typed one…Why would she send you a hand-“ Wednesday gently put her hand on the blonde’s mouth and whispered something in her ear, which had Enid nodding and keeping quiet.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the entrance door from which Principal Weems had just walked out to step onto the podium.

She didn’t need a podium, she was already towering over everyone there but that’s simply how Larissa was. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was or how she looked, something she had desperately tried to teach you when the two of you were close.

“All your life there will be people trying to push you down.” You remembered her telling you, her fingers holding onto your chin to make sure you were looking at her. “And yes, it will hurt. You may cry if you need to, but you can never give up. And don’t you ever be ashamed of who you are. You are incredible, my darling, don’t you forget that.”

Larissa’s voice resonated through the yard, commanding everyone’s attention. With unwavering poise, she delivered her speech, thanking everyone for coming that day. Every eye in the crowd was fixated on her, hanging onto her words.

The principal’s smile widened a little when she noticed Enid and Wednesday, only to falter for a second when her blue eyes eventually locked with yours.

It felt like time had stopped. Like it was just the two of you and the others had ceased existing. It always felt that way with her. She would look into your eyes and make you feel like you were the most important person in the room.

There was a short pause in Larissa’s speech, so short in fact that you weren’t sure anyone else had even noticed. It only took a split second for the woman to pull herself back together and finish her speech, her eyes falling on you a few more times.

Larissa ended her speech by telling everyone to help themselves with the food and drinks and reminding them that Nevermore would always welcome them if needed.

You were out of the yard as soon as Larissa stepped down from the podium. You needed to get out of there before she decided to come and find you, because you knew she would.

Coming here today hadn’t been a good idea. You should have stayed at home and buried that damn invitation in the drawer of your desk as you had done with the past four ones.

You heard the familiar sound of heels approaching the alcove where you were hiding and barely looked up when the sound stopped right next to you.

“I knew I would find you here.” Larissa spoke softly.

Of course she did. You always used to hide here whenever you needed to be away from everything.

“Your mother said you would visit whenever you’d feel better…I’m glad you finally do” The tall woman added.

It didn’t sound like she was reproaching you, and when you looked up at her face and your eyes met her gentle ones, you knew she wasn’t. Larissa was simply stating a fact. You were here, and she was glad that you were.

She hadn’t changed at all, you thought as you quietly observed her face. You noticed that the lines at the corner of her eyes and around her lips had deepened. She was as beautiful as ever.

“It’s very good to see you, Principal Weems. Thank you for the invitation.” You wished you had the courage to use her name, to call her Larissa like she had allowed you to do when in private. But time had passed and you weren’t sure if you were still allowed to.

“Of course, I’m glad you joined us today. Will you follow me to my office? There’s something I’d like to show you.” The older woman said, not waiting for your answer before spinning around on her heels and walking away.

Stepping into the office felt stranger than you thought it would. You were almost immediately hit with a wave of memories. Sitting down on the sofa by the fireplace, reading a book while Larissa furiously typed some emails on her keyboard. Spending whole evenings debating on the most absurd subject either of you could think of.

You’d fallen asleep there one time when Larissa hadn’t noticed how late it was. You’d woken up the next day still on the sofa but with a blanket covering you and a pillow comfortably tucked under your head. God, you loved her.

“There it is!” Larissa said, pulling you out of your reverie.

She handed you a small rectangular red box tied with a ribbon. You read the tag that was hanging to the bow and felt your stomach drop. Congratulations, darling! You make me so proud. She had bought you a graduation gift and you hadn’t shown up. You didn’t deserve her.

“I kept it all those years. I was hoping that you would visit during the summer after your graduation.” Larissa explained “And when you didn’t…I suppose I kept hoping that you would someday.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had been as hard for her as it had been for you. Had she missed you like you had missed her?

You pulled on the ribbon and watched as the bow fell apart, your hands slightly shaking when you lifted the lid to reveal a pair of black leather gloves.

“You always said you loved mine, remember? The beige ones?” Larissa asked.

If you remembered? You couldn’t count how many times you’d watched Larissa put her gloves on, admiring the way her fingers flexed in the leather. You had dreamt of helping her take them off only to kiss her knuckles.

“Do you like them?” The woman whispered, unsure what your silence meant.

“I love them.” You answered almost immediately. I love you, you thought. “Thank you so much, Miss Weems, this means more than you could ever imagine.”

Larissa’s smile widened and her body slightly moved forward, panic rising in your chest when her arms moved from her sides and you realised she was about to embrace you.

Don’t, please don’t. Because if you do I will fall right back in love with you, and I’m not sure I will ever be able to let go again.

But you didn’t say anything. You let her wrap her arms around you and pull you close against her. And it felt so right. You hadn’t felt this alive in years, yet it killed you to know that this meant nothing more to her than a hug between two old friends.

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit you sooner.” You whispered as you embraced her. She still felt the same in your arms. She still smelled the same. She was still her.

“I know.” Larissa whispered back, her body gently swaying from side to side as she held you close.

You felt like you were eighteen again, sobbing in her arms after a particularly rough day. She had never let you down, not once had she refused to help you and you had run away without an explanation.

“Larissa…” You whispered, wanting to explain yourself furthermore, needing to tell her how stupid you had been.

“I know.” She repeated and your ear that was pressed against her chest caught her heart beating faster.

You weren’t sure what she knew exactly, but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not while she was holding you close and shielding you from the world. There would be plenty of time for explanations. But for now, it was just you and her, tightly embracing each other.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

We’ll Always Have Chelsea

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, extremely protective father, angst, maybe some slut-shaming

A/N: Thank you for all the love you've shown this story! Let's consider this a "mid-season finale" of sorts. I'm currently working on the second half of this story, and once it's complete I'll resume posting it. Feel free to send asks and questions about the Chelsea!Roy universe in the meantime; it seriously keeps me motivated!

(And thank you to @kissykissymouth for the chapter title!)

“Let’s go, Roy-o!” you shrieked from your seat as the announcers called his name in those booming voices that echoed through the stadium.

Katie rolled her eyes playfully as she clapped along with the roaring crowd. “You are the most obvious human being I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“I can afford to be obvious now,” you said with a smile. When Katie quirked a curious eyebrow at you, you leaned in close. “He asked me to make things official last night.” You sounded like a silly little teenage girl, all giddy and delighted over a boy, and you didn’t care one bit. “To be his girlfriend. To stay together even after I’m back at uni. That whole thing.”

Her smile was soft and genuine. “Oh, that’s so great!” she gushed as she grabbed your hand. “Now we can plan some real double dates. Go out on the town, all four of us.” Her glee faded as she studied you for a moment. “But what about your-”

“We’re telling him after the match.” For the first time since Roy climbed back out your window in the early hours of the morning, you felt confident in the idea of telling your dad. This wasn’t just a summer fling anymore; it was something real, something that would hopefully last.

And your dad was going to have to figure out how to deal with it.

Katie let out a low whistle. “Well, good luck with that,” she hummed, giving your hand a squeeze. “Let me know if you need help planning Kent’s funeral.”

You gave her a friendly shove and turned your attention back to the pitch, not bothering to hide the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Roy. In a few hours, your dad would know, and there would be no reason to keep anything a secret from anyone. You’d be able to come to every match and proudly wear Roy's name on your back, the way all the wives and girlfriends did, and wrap your arms around him when he emerged fresh from the showers. He could take you to post-match celebrations and charity events and any of the fabulous places a fella like him would take his girl. And you’d be able to bring him home, have him spend time with your family, properly introduce him to your mates.

As long as your dad didn’t kill Roy first.

~

After the match- a flawless 4-0 Chelsea victory, much to your relief- you lingered by Katie’s side to wait for the men to come out of the changing room. When was the last time your palms were this sweaty or your heart raced this fast? Every time a player walked out the door, your mouth went dry, wondering when it would be Roy. Somehow, you just knew that his sparkling brown eyes would be enough to calm all your nerves.

Jules emerged with a smirk on his face. After kissing his wife, he quirked an eyebrow at you. “Kent’s pretty jealous.”

“What makes you say that?” you huffed, pretending you weren’t utterly pleased at the mere mention of Roy's name.

Jules tugged on the sleeve of your kit playfully. “Apparently he doesn’t like that you wore my kit instead of his today.” He quirked his eyebrow. “Mumbled something about his girlfriend being unsupportive already.” His eyes shifted to a grinning Katie before returning to you. “Want to explain to me why the hell Kent’s calling you his girlfriend, princess?”

“Because she fucking is.” Roy smirked down at you, his fingertips twitching as he shot you a wink. “And at our next match, there better be a six on your back, gorgeous.”

You beamed up at him. “You were great today, Kent.” Fuck, you wished you could grab him and kiss that smirk. Next time, you promised yourself as the two of you batted your eyes at each other, probably making the married couple roll their own eyes. Next time you’d be wearing his kit, and you’d be able to greet him with a girlish squeal and a kiss. You’d get to finally be Roy Kent’s girl.

All you had to do was break the news to your dad.

“Your dad’s already in his press conference,” Roy murmured with raised eyebrows. “Should we… go wait in his office?”

There was that dryness in your throat again. “Yeah,” you managed, blinking rapidly. “Guess we should.” You offered Katie and Jules a tight smile. “We’ll see you guys later.”

“Good luck,” Katie called in a sing-song voice as you and Roy turned to walk down to the coaching offices.

Sure enough, your dad’s office was empty and dark. You flipped on the light and turned on his television, greeted by his face as he sat in front of the crowd of reporters. His normally stern expression was relaxed as he answered questions about the match, clearly glowing from such a great win. If there was ever a day to tell him that you were dating his completely off-limits star midfielder, it was today.

Roy leaned against the edge of your dad’s desk, next to the framed photo of you and your brother that sat by your dad’s computer. Roy took your hand and tugged you to stand close to him, pressing the tiniest kiss to your temple as his thumb stroked the back of your hand.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he whispered.

You gulped and nodded, keeping your eyes trained on your dad’s face. “I know.”

“-performed very well today,” your dad was saying as he picked up the water bottle that sat beside a microphone. “For goodness’ sake, the man scored two goals today. Don’t know what all this is about a slump. I hope all the fellas fall into this kind of a slump.” He chuckled good-naturedly and pointed off-camera. “Next question.”

“Moving on from today’s match,” a cautious voice called out. “Coach, what d’you have to say about those photos of Roy Kent and…” The reporter cleared his throat. “… your daughter?”

For a moment, your father’s face was bright red as he set down the unopened water bottle. “I’m sorry?”

Your blood ran cold while the reporter continued. “There are photos of them at a casino. They were with, uh, Jules and his wife.” He cleared his throat again. “They were quite cozy.”

“Fuck.” Roy squeezed your hand and tore his eyes away from the television. “I-”

“I don’t comment on my players’ private lives.” Your dad’s jaw was tight as he sat up at his full height. “Especially Roy Kent.” His laugh rang hollow in your ears. “If I commented on every rumor about that kid’s love life, I’d never have time to manage this team.” He moved to stand, not quite looking at the camera. “Now, if there’s no more football-related questions, I think we’re done here.”

Roy let out a low growl and switched the telly off. “Well, fuck.”

“You should leave,” you murmured, looking into Roy’s panicked eyes. “Seriously, Roy. This is so much worse than we thought. It might be better if you go.”

He shook his head. “Fuck no.” He let go of your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. “We said we’re doing this together,” he said slowly. “So, we’re doing this together. I’m not going to be the kind of prick who runs away when things get hard.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “And this is going to be so fucking hard.”

The two of you flinched when you heard doors slam and feet stomping. Instinctively, Roy removed his hand from your hip, but he stayed close enough for you to feel his warmth. A smart move, you had to admit. A smarter move would be for him to run away from Stamford Bridge altogether, to never speak to you again, but you were glad he stayed. Something besides fear swelled in your heart when you realized that Roy was sticking by your side, even in the face of your father.

Your father, whose raised voice you could hear down the hall. “Where the hell is my kid? And where the fuck is Kent?”

Your entire body trembled as his footsteps came closer, finally stopping in front of the open door of his office. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of you, standing far too close to Roy Kent in the office that held framed photos of your childhood and crayon drawings from over a decade ago. He stormed in, ignoring you in favor of grabbing Roy by his t-shirt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kent?” he barked. “All the fucking models and actresses in London, and you decide to shag my daughter?”

Roy shook his head frantically, hands up in defense. “Coach, it’s not like that-”

“Get the fuck out, Kent.” He released Roy and pointed to the door. “Before I take a real good look at your contract.”

You found your voice. “Daddy,” you said shakily. “Roy’s not going anywhere.” You reached down and intertwined your fingers with Roy's, ignoring the player's wide eyes. “We’re dating, Dad. Me and Roy.” You gave Roy’s hand a squeeze. “We-”

“One rule.” Your dad’s voice was low, filled with anger. “I had one rule for you hanging around here. No. Footballers.” He pointed at Roy. “Especially that one.” He shook his head at you. “What were you thinking?"

“I’m thinking I care about Roy and he cares about me.” You gripped Roy’s hand like it was a lifesaver. “And I’m thinking I’m an adult. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. I’m not sixteen anymore.”

Your dad’s eyes were full of rage and pain as he stared at you, looking at you like you were a complete stranger. “You’re sure acting sixteen, sneaking around behind my back.” He shook his head, eyeing Roy with disgust. “But you’re right. You’re apparently all grown up now. Do what the fuck you want.” He grabbed his bag from behind his desk and made his way to the door. “Besides, you’ll be back at school soon enough.” His gaze was steely, lacking any of the usual affection he sent your way. “And Kent’ll be back to his normal self. Once you're gone, he'll be right back to his models. Maybe then you’ll realize I was right about him all along.”

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