#i love to believe it was as silly for the parent team too

[sincapjelly]

Do you guys thinks the parents of the ninja were also ninja in the movie verse like in the show verse??

If so, I have something to say ✋️...

First off, they are about the same age all but not exactly the same age. Lilly and Libber are in first year, Ray is in the second year, Maya is in third.

I'd like to include Wu and Garmadon but I think they were the way they are in the movie by the time this team was in high school too.

If we also wanna include the non-ninja parents, Lou's in first year too and Cliff is second. Oh also they both are in the drama club at school and Cliff has a beef with Lou because Lou is the unofficial leader of the club but he is younger than Cliff. I don't think Lou is aware though, lmao.

Ed and Edna were graduates at that point I guess. Maybe two or three years ago, I believe only Maya would know them from school, she was in first year when they were last.

Lilly and Libber also DESPISE each other in the beginning. Libber is the popular but genuinely nice girl. She is smart, friendly, pretty and also comes from a rich family. Students, teachers, everyone loves her she is just so lovable, but she tends to look "fake" to some for her flawless image. Not the best but a good student, attentive during classes, attentive to people around her, she does everything right and everyone sees that. Some believe there ain't no way she is this perfect.

Libber likes this image, she likes being nice and loved, but Lilly is a threat to this image because unlike any other Lilly somehow gets on EVERY SINGLE NERVE on Libber and often makes her break her perfect persona by making Libber argue with her.

Lilly is a certified troublemaker, the anarchist of the school in a way. She always has something to say when there is injustice, she can not keep her mouth shut when something is unacceptable which always gets her in trouble. She is also pretty into her own freedom. One thing about her, is that Lilly always does what she wants. She also escapes the school for fun almost often. All her troubles would get her expelled if her grades weren't as high as they were.

Eventually, being part of the same team they develop a better relationship, even sorta becoming friends who have the "only I can beat her ass" dynamic but they often fight and bully each other still.

Maya is the brilliant student and ninja. She is ready for every situation, there is almost no situation she can not get out. She is the perfect example of an ambivert, has the biggest sunshine evergy yet she is the calmest and most unphased during moments of terror. Kind of like the heart of the team, if she was to panic everyone would freak out too. She also keeps everyone together, stops the two youngest girls when they are at each other's throat. A good baker too, she often packs things for her friends, and was the one to say "we are friends" first in the team. In a way the others can not understand, she loves studying and learning, she is the most attentive to the ninja trainings too.

Ray is the jester type of student. He is good enough to pass the class, and he is trying his best and he is good ta heart but his deal is mostly that he is good at sports and has cool hobies like knowing how to fight using swords. He is also the only one that is down to start a school revolution with Lilly willingly. He is not the starter of trouble, but he is down if you're down, you know. He won't hesitate to throw punches when he needs to. He is well known and loved. He is often very forgetful of important stuff, forgets to pack the right stuff for school, forgets to attend extra classes and events, even forgets to bring food to school.

Ray and Maya were already dating when the secret ninja force was formed. They are also the first ones to be recruited. Like I said, Maya loves treating her friends and Ray is often almost careless. He cares about others but when it comes to himself he can be negligent. It's not that Ray is dependent on Maya, or Maya is acting like a mother to him, it's just that Maya likes to remind him that he should be cared well for too. After some time Ray starts helping her in the cooking club to lessen her responsibility and takes the duty of bringing the food to others in school after Maya and others are done cooking their stuff.

Libber meets Cliff in a random day, he is kind of a womanizer as well in this universe, he is often shooting his shot with people. Libber is kinda aware of this, but she is also pretty impressed at how it works. She kinda believes she can change him after he starts to stop hitting on everyone and starts trying his shot almost solely on Libber. Maybe because Libber wasn't all that blown away by him at first, as she is on an equal position at school hierarchy. The school thinks they'd be the perfect match, which they seem to agree.

Lilly and Lou start getting close kinda by accident. They knew each other briefly from some classes they share as they are both on their first year, though they weren't exactly friends. Despite Lilly thinking he is cooler than most "cool kids" for the fact that he just minds his own business and runs the drama club, she never aproached him. That is until she gets seperated from the ninja during an attack and finds herself thrown to the remains of broken buildings. The attack happens during a school trip so students are all around, and Lou happens to see her. He doesn't know who the ninja is, obviously, but he still goes up to her to ask if she is okay and helps her get back up on her feet, being the only one to do so. This makes Lilly realise he is also a good person, and after being friends she reveals her identity to him.

Eh maybe I keep writing this some time, lol.

[cxra-melty]

I love him so much

Talking about the movie so spoilers in the tags!!!

[miley1442111]

fix it-a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron says some horrible things, can he fix it?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, jack is so sweet, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, no happy ending :(

part 2- fix it together

It was all coming down to this. It was Jack’s birthday and as his step-mom, you had been party planning all week. He was having a dinosaur themed birthday with a bounce house and watching a movie in the backyard, like a little drive in movie. You were excited for him. Aaron hadn’t really been around much that week, he was busy dealing with some legal battle the FBI was up against, meaning the rest of the team, including yourself, had the week off. It was Friday night, Jack’s actual birthday and he was asleep in bed as you waited for Aaron to get home. You were reading a book Spencer had recommended you as you nursed a cup of tea, getting sleepier by the second. 

The front door opened and there Aaron stood, briefcase in hand, handsome as ever. You smiled and got up from your spot on the couch, ready to greet him. He smiled softly as you hugged him, running a hand through his hair. “How did it go?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Oh it was fine, nothing too jarring. How was the week?” He asked, walking further into the house. 

“Fine. Nothing to report. Jack’s asleep but-”

“Did you do something for his birthday?” He asked, cutting you off. 

“Yeah, of course. I picked him up from school early and we went for lunch and to a film. He really enjoyed himself,” you smiled and he sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Passive aggressive. Aaron was being passive aggressive.

“Aaron,” You said, worry coating your words. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes! Everything is just fine,” He sighed again, sitting on the couch. “Just one thing though- you didn’t think to offer him to see his mom?” He asked, malice behind every word. The accusation cut you deeply. Of course you’d asked, but he’d said no. He said ‘I don’t want to go without dad’ because of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go to his moms grave without his dad, and not on his birthday either. You stood there, stunned at his words. He continued. “Y’know, you promised me this wouldn’t be an issue, so tell me now, is this an issue Y/N? I need to know because we can still get an annulment.” 

You gasped at his words. “Aaron stop-”

“No, you stop. You are not his mother. She is. She still is, even if she’s gone. You’ll never be his mother. You’re doing a good job of parenting but nothing compares to Haley. Thank god you’re not his actual mother.”

That was venomous. He was going straight for every insecurity you had around your relationship with Jack and throwing it in your face. He was hurting you. 

The silence was heavy. Aaron finally looked at your face and saw the disgust written all over it. The worst part was the fact that he knew it wasn't disgust at his actions, it was disgust directed at yourself and your parenting. You loved and adored Jack, he knew that. He knew, though he’d never admit it, that Jack liked you more than him, or maybe it was just his insecurity speaking, he wasn’t sure. He knew you gave everything of yourself to the both of them. And he knew he’d just done irreversible damage. 

“I offered,” you muttered, your eyes trained on the floor as you wrapped your arms around your chest, pleading with yourself to not cry. You felt silly, standing there, in his hoodie, his home, and seeing his child as your own. “He said he wanted to wait for you. I said we’d go on Sunday.” 

Aaron’s stomach dropped at the tone of your voice and the words being spoken. He was making you cry. He was hurting you. And all you’d ever been to him was perfectly kind. You’d always been so supportive, so loving, and so caring. As he came in he saw a love note on the fridge, he’d seen one of his favourite chocolate bars on the counter with a note beside it, a little wrapped gift beside it too. There were multiple reminders on the fridge for yourself, ones telling you to pick up things for the party, pick up Jack’s big birthday gift (a new bike), and call Jessica. You cared so much about the both of them, and he’d just said some of the worst things he could’ve, just because he was stressed.

Imagine how stressed you were, planning an entire party on your own while simultaneously working through hours and hours of paperwork (courtesy of your job, you were still working from home even if you weren't technically working), and parenting all week, all alone. 

“There’s dinner in the fridge, I-I’m going to go to bed,” you mumbled, walking about and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heard your footsteps retract, walking up the stairs and in the opposite direction of your shared bedroom. Shit. You were sleeping in the guest room. 

He got up, irritation and shame barely allowing him to get to the kitchen to eat the meal you’d made him. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you? 

He sat alone eating, his eyes drifting to the gift on the counter the entire time. I don’t deserve it. He thought, but caved once he finished his food and cleaned up. He pulled the small bow off and unwrapped the colourful paper to reveal a positive pregnancy test. His heart broke again. Inside beside it was a note, in your beautiful handwriting. 

To my dearest Aaron, 

I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I also didn’t want you to come home too early when you were still needed in Washington. We’re pregnant! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. I didn’t want to upstage Jack’s birthday but I obviously needed to tell you :) 

I love you so much and I can’t wait for this next chapter! No more guest bedroom I guess :) 

P.s I’m almost sure Jack knows, I’ve been having horrible morning sickness :( but at least this fulfils his christmas wish last year, remember ? 

Anyways, I love you so much and I’m so excited. 

Your love, Y/N

Xxxx 

He felt sick to his stomach. You were pregnant. He’d just been evilly cruel to you and you were pregnant. He’d said some of the most vile things on planet earth to you, he essentially called you a bad mother. And you were pregnant. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he saw the splotches on the paper, ruining one of the cute doodles you’d done. He immediately put it down, not wanting to damage it further. 

He took a deep breath, then went into his study and allowed himself to cry. He’d been mean. He’d hurt you in the one way he promised he wouldn’t, all because he was overwhelmed. All because he was stressed. 

“Dad?” He heard Jack’s voice and straightened. He wiped his face. “Why are you upset?” Jack walked into his office, pyjamas and a teddy in hand. 

“I did something mean to mom,” he admitted. “And I hurt her by accident,” he wasn’t sure if it was by accident. He was sure some deep part of him just wanted to self-sabotage himself. “And I feel bad about it.”

“It’ll be ok. Mom’s been sick this week, maybe you have the same tummy ache and it’s making you mad?” He suggested and Aaron let out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Maybe bud, maybe,” he agreed. “How about we get you back to bed, huh?” 

“Can I say goodnight to mom again?” He asked and Aaron’s heart broke again. He lifted him up and nodded, walking them down the hall. “You go into her and I’ll get your bed ready, yeah?” 

“OK dad!” Jack exclaimed as he was let down to the ground, and went running off to your shared bedroom. Aaron shook his head. 

“She’s in the other bedroom,” he pushed down another wave of tears at Jack’s confused face. 

“Why?” He asked, confused. 

“I was really mean,” Aaron sniffled. “Say goodnight from me too?”

“Ok dad,” Jack said, walking into the guest room. 

Aaron heard your voice, wishing Jack good dreams. You’d been crying. 

He was the worst person in the world. 

Jack came into his bedroom a few minutes later. “Mom’s still sick, she said goodnight and to tell you that she loves you.”

Aaron almost started crying again. You were so caring. You always put him above yourself. “Thanks buddy.” 

Aaron tucked him in and closed his door over, wishing him a good night. The tears came shortly after. He tried to sleep in your shared bed, but it wasn’t right. You weren’t there. 

Sleep evaded him that night. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, the morning sickness hit you like a truck. You had your head in the toilet for an hour, at least. You didn’t come out of the guest room until about 9am. You could hear the usual sounds of Jack and Aaron playing outside, probably soccer. You walked downstairs and got yourself a glass of water, the only thing you could actually stomach at the minute. You looked out the window that led to your garden and smiled when you saw your boys playing, then the nagging voice that you thought you’d gotten rid of all but screamed in your ear You’re such a terrible parent. Aaron’s just been trying to conserve your feelings this entire time. Jack probably hates you. You shouldn’t be having another child. 

You looked away. Focus on the party. You told yourself. Get through today.

You had a long list of things that needed doing before the party at 3. You had to pick up balloons, pick up the cake, pick up Jessica and her kids, pick up Sean from the airport (as a surprise for Aaron and Jack), and set everything up. You left a small note on the table explaining where you were, and left. You ran all your errands, leaving picking up Jessica, the kids, and Sean till last. When you walked back in, the house was set up and Jack was immediately excitedly by Jessica, his cousins, and Sean which gave you a moment to slip away from Aaron.

Soon enough, the party started and you were bombarded with around forty children and a party to have. You felt Aaron's eyes on you constantly, checking in on you or just watching you. Once the outdoor film started, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and Spencer came over to ask what was wrong with you and Aaron, saying it was strange to not see you all over each other. You told them about the fight (not the pregnancy) and they were shocked at his behaviour. How could he be so mean? How could he treat you like that?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron had been trying to talk to you for hours. Whenever he tried, a kid or one of the team would stop him with a dumb question, or needing help. You had Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Spencer crowding you the entire night, sending him the dirtiest of looks. That’s how he ended up at the end of the garden with David and Derek, who were both giving him a lecture about how what he’d done was wrong. 

“You can't say anyone is a bad parent!” Derek stressed. “That’s a very clear no-go!”

“I’m aware,” Aaron said, his lips tight in a frown. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Then why aren’t you apologising?!” Derek exclaimed, loud enough that a few kids turned around to shush him. 

“Because,” Aaron sighed. “Those four haven’t left her side in hours.” 

As the movie came to a close and the children left, you were left with just the team and family. 

You all sat down to dinner, chinese takeout- Jack’s favourite. There was laughter and true joy, especially at David’s insistence that he could make the meal much better than Jack's favourite take-out, considering he was a ‘chef’. 

You all sat down to watch Jack open his gifts, individually thanking each person who gave him something. He was especially taken by the gift Spencer got him, a book on dinosaurs, and he adored the bike. You’d gotten one that you'd made look similar to Sean’s motorbike, Jack was always obsessed with Sean's motorbike. You’d even drawn on specific details that made it even more unique. Everyone eventually trailed out and it was just you, Jack, Sean, and Aaron. Jack asked Sean to read his bedtime story. That meant you and Aaron were left to clean up together. You got up to start picking up plates but Aaron stopped you. 

“Can I?” He offered and you nodded, sitting on the couch. You hadn’t eaten at dinner, all food just meant more vomiting in the morning and you were not up for that. “Can we talk?” He asked. 

“About what?” You sighed, looking over at him. “I think we’ve both said enough.”

“I’m so sorry about last night,” he sighed, coming over to you and sitting beside you. “I was awful. I was disgustingly mean just because I was overwhelmed. You’re an amazing mother to Jack, while you’re not his biological mother, you love him as such and he loves you. You’re a great parent. I was just being reactive and mean. I was so cruel and I'm sorry. I don’t want an annulment. I want to be with you forever. I know that it isn’t a problem. I know how much you love Jack and me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I know how little I deserve it.”

You took his hand. “What you said… it was probably my worst nightmare,” you chuckled flatly. “And what you said was pretty damaging, Aaron. I just… it completely restarted the voice in my head that says I’m a terrible parent. It made me scared to think about what’s going to happen when we have our baby. I was already terrified about being pregnant, and this was just…” you trailed off as Aaron’s heart broke. Your voice was raw with emotion. You were so hurt. 

“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the best mother our children could ever have,” he promised and you smiled, but it lacked the regular spark your smiles usually contained. 

“The best mother Jack could have is Haley. We both know that.”

Fuck. Now you were comparing yourself to Haley again. Aaron had quite literally set you back about 4 years in your confidence as Jack’s mother. “Honey-”

“I know it sounds bad, but we both know it’s true. I’m good, but as you said, I’m nothing compared to Haley. Which is fine Aaron. I understand my place.”

His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He’d hurt you so badly. “Honey please, I was stressed and overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I meant nothing I said. You’re the best mother to Jack and our unborn child. You are the love of my life-”

“I’m the second love of your life,” you smiled sadly at him. “I’m going to bed, goodnight Aaron.” 

You walked up the stairs with a heavy heart. No matter what he said, you’ll always remember the look on his face when he told you that you weren’t enough, that you weren't Haley.

You fell asleep on your side of the bed, since you couldn’t exactly sleep in the guest room when Sean was in there. 

Aaron leaned against the counter as he washed dishes, thinking about how he could fix this. 

Could he even fix this?

——————————————————————————-------------------

criminal minds masterlist

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part two)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

content warning parental abandonment

» part one

» masterlist

Zach gets you and his daughter box seats for his next home game.

It happens to be on your first day back at work after his family leaves and he jokes that sooner is better than later, not only because his team might get knocked out of the playoffs, but also because Ella could change her mind about wanting to come.

The private space overlooking the stadium is small, only a handful of other people there, as the late afternoon sun shines over the rich green field.

You learned that Zach is a major league soccer player minutes into meeting him. You knew he had an unusual life and a certain level of notoriety as a professional athlete. But seeing the crowds filling the seats below you makes it real to you.

The music and the announcer’s voice boom through the stadium, fireworks going off as players rush the field. All this craziness doesn’t match the man you know. Zach is kind and humble and beneath his silly sense of humor, he has a gentleness to him that you’d never expect from someone whose last name is sprawled over fans’ jerseys, who’s getting cheered for so loudly that it’s deafening.

Ella excitedly claps when her father appears on the stadium screen, his face hard as he jogs under the bright lights. You gaze ahead in awe, unable to believe that this is the world he lives in when he’s not at the house, running around with his daughter, thanking you for everything you do.

After the game ends in a draw, you take Ella home in time for dinner. As you drive, wipers cleaning away the drizzle that just started to fall, she excitedly rambles about the experience from the backseat. You smile to yourself, glad that she enjoyed herself and proud that you’re the reason she went.

As usual, Ella slips out of her chair with a mouthful of food when she hears the front door open halfway into dinner. You watch her dart out of the dining room, listening to the huff Zach lets out every time his daughter roughly launches herself into his arms.

“That was so cool!” you overhear.

“Really?” he says. “You didn’t get bored?”

“Um, it was kind of too long,” she says, “but I had pictures to color.”

“Appreciate your honesty,” Zach replies with a laugh.

They round the corner to enter the dining room and when Zach’s eyes land on you, your heart does a somersault.

“Hey,” he says to you, nervous.

“Hi,” you reply. “Thanks for the fancy seats.”

“They were alright?”

“Good enough for two princesses,” you tease.

“Princess ballerinas,” Ella corrects you as she sits down again.

“Right,” you say. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that we’re princess ballerinas now.”

Zach mirrors your smile, loving the feeling of sharing a moment like this with you. You stand to clean your plate and it reminds him of what his mother said a couple of nights ago. That you look at him the same way he looks at you.

He hopes that it’s true, because he can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s a little embarrassed that you saw him in a match. He’s always loved soccer, but he never liked how much attention is on him as a major league player.

“Maybe you should wait out the rain,” Zach says to you. “It started coming down hard on my drive home.”

“Good idea,” you say, happy to spend more time with him.

The rest of dinner consists of Ella happily chattering with you and Zach. As she clears her plate, Zach’s phone buzzes on the table top. His lips purse in worry at the notification, and then he shows you the severe thunderstorm warning message on his screen.

“That looks bad,” you say. “How long is it supposed to go on for?”

“It says into the early morning,” Zach answers. “Do you want to crash here?”

“I’m sure I could make it home,” you say. “I’ll just drive slowly.”

Zach’s lips part, and then he closes his mouth, simply nodding.

“What?” you chuckle. His eyes dart away.

“Just worried about you,” he admits. You huff an endeared laugh.

“Fine. I’ll sleep here,” you decide.

He sighs a breath of relief and says, “Thanks.”

Zach takes Ella to bed and you settle on the couch, glad you already have everything you’ll need in your overnight bag in the guest room. You eventually hear his footsteps coming down the stairs over the sounds of the television and the rain hammering down on the roof.

He sits on the other end of the couch next to you, so far that a person could easily sit between you. It’s typical Zach, never getting too close to you. The only time he’s ever touched you is when he shook your hand before your interview half a year ago.

“She fell asleep while I was explaining what offside means,” he says with an adorably puzzled expression. “Trying not to be offended.”

“I can’t believe she’s actually interested in soccer,” you say.

“Ouch.” Zach puts his hand over his heart. “Okay, I’m offended now.”

“I mean because you said she never cared before,” you laugh.

“I asked her so many times if she’d want to come to a game,” he huffs. “But you suggest it once and she’s immediately in. She always listens to you.”

“Not when I’m trying to convince her to leave the park,” you say. He chuckles. “Can you believe she’s starting kindergarten soon?”

Admittedly, Zach’s concerned about it. In less than a month, Ella will be going to school and he never was one to have much anxiety before he became a father, but all he does now is worry. He doesn’t want any teachers or kids to be harsh with his little girl. She’s already been through enough.

“She’ll be okay,” you say.

“What?”

“You have that worried look on your face,” you tell him. “She’ll love school. I’m sure of it.”

“You can read me pretty well,” he says, smiling. You shrug timidly, thinking back to how quickly he’d noticed something was bothering you on the night of Ella’s birthday.

“What?” he asks.

“It goes both ways,” you admit. “You saw right through me after the party.”

Zach’s jaw tightens, the playfulness between you replaced by a fragile air. He takes a breath before speaking. He knows he needs to have this conversation with you.

“Do you feel better about what she said?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. Now that you’ve had some time to process, you’re okay. “How about you?”

“Well,” he begins, nerves tightening in his stomach, “it wasn’t easy to hear. Ella shouldn’t have to wish she had a different mom. Jade should be here for her.”

He’s never said her name. He’s never looked like this before, his eyes avoiding yours, hand trembling a bit as he scratches his jaw. You can tell this is hard for him to talk about. But he’s choosing to do it with you.

“You said ex-wife that night, but she was never my wife,” Zach admits.

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know I haven’t told you much. When we talked that night, it reminded me of just how much you don’t know about it. I just… I hope you know that you’re… you’re so much more than Ella’s nanny. You’re our friend. And you’re obviously a mother figure to her. And it feels weird that you don’t know what happened.”

His words sink into you, every syllable having an effect on your heartbeat.

“What happened?”

“Ella was a surprise,” he tells you. “Jade and I were dating in our senior year of college when we found out she was pregnant. And then I got scouted and we graduated and everything was happening so fast, but we were happy and… I stayed happy and she didn’t.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, looking at him as his eyes stay trained off of yours.

“We broke up a few months after Ella was born. But we were both sure we could handle co-parenting. She stayed at home while I worked. I could see she didn’t like it, though. She wasn’t a bad mother or anything. She just wasn’t very… affectionate with Ella.”

Your chest tightens. It’s painful to imagine Ella wanting love and not getting it.

“I don’t know. I thought she’d eventually feel how I feel about being a parent. I tried everything,” Zach says, remembering how he’d encouraged Jade to go to therapy or take time away or work while they hired help. It was like she was stuck in her unhappiness. “But then she left and… that was it.”

He finally looks at you and the tenderness in your eyes gives him a breath of fresh air. It’s what you do. Just by being you, you give him the push to stay hopeful that he and his daughter will be okay.

“We weren’t in a good place when you came. But you made things so much better,” he says. “You do an amazing job taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”

Your eyes light up, the smile on your face gentle.

“Thank you for saying that,” you say. “And thank you for telling me the full story. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Zach sighs now that the weight of reliving it is gone.

“I really do love her. I meant it when I said it.” At this point, you’re sure you love him, too, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. “And I feel lucky to get to watch her grow up. This doesn’t even feel like a job to me anymore.”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you don’t want the pay?” he says. You find relief in his joke, tossing your head back with a laugh. “Seriously, though, let me know if you need me to keep things the same while you’re part-time during the school year. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, are you offering to pay me for hours I’m not even working?” you chuckle. “Zach, no. I’m good. I have other things lined up. But thank you.”

“What? Everyone knows you should always accept free money.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say. “How do you even have the energy to joke around right now? I just watched you run around for ninety minutes.”

Like always, Zach blushes when you bring up his job. He’s intense and focused on the pitch, but he’s different when he’s at ease at home.

“There’s a break in the middle,” he replies.

“I stand corrected,” you say. “So, how’d you get into soccer?”

Your conversation quickly and easily drifts into topics you hadn’t explored before, the storm raging outside as you learn more about him and he learns more about you. He’s still on the other end of the couch, but soon, his arm is resting against the back of it, his hand inches away from you as you sink into the soft cushions, beaming at each other as you talk.

You don’t want to stop, but eventually you can’t stifle your yawn, prompting Zach to check his watch.

“Jeez,” he says. “Ella went down three hours ago.”

“Are you serious?” You sit up. “That flew by.”

Zach knew that the more he learned about you, the more of a goner he’d be. It feels like he just went on the best date of his life and all he did was sit on his couch and talk.

There’s something between you and he hopes that it’s not just his infatuation misguiding him.

────୨ৎ────

You were right. He had nothing to worry about. Ella’s more than happy at school. It’s only a week into the year and she’s already naming all her new friends when Zach picks her up Friday afternoon.

Her first dance recital is tonight and he’s looking forward to seeing you and his family there. Ella had even mentioned that her other grandparents could come. They were elated to get the invitation.

And of course, when he arrives at the studio that evening, you’re already there, reliable and steady like you always are. You greet him and his family warmly and introduce yourself to Jade’s parents.

It feels wrong to hear you refer to yourself as Ella’s nanny. You’ve been in his life for eight months now and you’ve nestled your way into his soul so deeply that he knows you’ll stay with him forever.

He’s been grappling with this since he first realized he had feelings for you; this bothersome sense of wrong. He can’t pursue you. Technically, no matter how much it doesn’t feel like it, he is your boss. He pays you to take care of his child. If things went sideways, it could push you to leave.

Although he’s never felt this much love for a woman in his life, it’d be selfish. He can’t do it to Ella. He didn’t even want to date other women when Jade was still around simply because it could confuse his daughter.

But you’re different.

His thoughts are interrupted when you look at him, pulling him out of his haze.

“I saved us seats,” you tell him.

Zach’s sitting between you and his father when the recital starts. Eventually, Ella drifts across the middle of the floor between the other dancers.

“This is the part she’s nervous about,” you whisper to him, recalling how she’d told you that this part in the choreography makes her trip sometimes.

You watch her hop sideways, focused as the music grows faster. You’re so on edge that you don’t realize your hand slips into Zach’s, squeezing nervously. She lands her last skip and rejoins the group. You let out a sigh of relief. Then, you look down, seeing your fingers wrapped around Zach’s.

“Sorry,” you say, trying to laugh it off as you pull your hand back. “I think I’m taking a five-year-old’s dance recital a little too seriously.”

Zach can only offer a tight smile. His team’s inching closer to advancing to the championship semi-finals and the pressure has never been heavier, but even that hasn’t affected him like the tension he’s feeling right now. His whole body is on fire from your touch, and it won’t go away.

When the recital comes to an end, Zach leans closer to you to murmur over the applause surrounding you.

“You going out to dinner with us?” he asks.

“Do I have to?” you quip.

“What, you got a date or something?” He worries that the joke was too much. Too flirty.

But you laugh and say, “I haven’t had a date or something in forever. Yeah, I’ll come.” Although it’s hard to believe that a woman like you is single, he’s glad you are.

The eight of you sit in the busy restaurant, making conversation. As Zach expected, Ella insisted she sit next to you. You have endless patience for her, listening to her talk, answering her questions, letting her pick off your plate. He would move mountains for his child. He can tell you’d do the same.

Zach picks up the bill and you all say your goodbyes to Jade’s parents, who insisted they didn’t need to stay the night. Before you head out, you tell his family it was nice to see them again. He can tell you’re a little surprised when his mother pulls you in for a hug, but you kindly return it.

Connie obviously appreciates everything you’ve done for her son and granddaughter. Zach tries not to daydream too much, but he likes imagining being your boyfriend and telling you that his mom called that you’d become something one day.

When you say bye to Zach, your gazes meet like you’ve been waiting for a private moment for ages. Things changed on the night you stayed over. You went from friends to a gray area of something more, neither of you acting on it but knowing it’s there.

Only an hour after Ella falls asleep, Zach’s parents and sister turn in for the night, tired from their drive in. Zach is too wired, silently sitting in his living room, his tea not having its usual effect of soothing him.

He goes through his camera roll, wishing he could go for a drive to relax, but not wanting to leave his daughter in case she needs him. He stares at a photo his mother took of you and him and Ella earlier tonight after the recital, Ella’s hair frizzy from all the jumping around she did.

His smile is wide and so is yours and you look like more than just someone he hired to help take care of his daughter. You look like a family.

He opens your conversation and sends you the photo. It’s nearing 10 p.m. and he’s not sure if you’re already asleep, but you respond a minute later: Aw I love this. Thanks :) How’s your night going?

Zach responds: Good… but everyone’s asleep and I’m still wide awake. Yours?

You reply: Is your tea not working?

He smiles to himself and texts back: Not this time.

You text: I’m kind of wired, too.

How come?

Not sure.

He replies with a joke: Could be Ella’s fault. I saw her eat a lot of your dinner. It’s probably hunger keeping you awake.

Once again, his mind drifts to the way your palm felt against the back of his hand tonight. Then, he hears a door open upstairs. In case it’s Ella, he quietly rushes up the stairs to run into his mom, who’s leaving the bathroom.

“Sorry,” he whispers when he startles her. “I thought Ella woke up and I didn’t want her to think I was gone.”

“I’m sure she’ll be deep asleep until the morning,” Connie says. She notices he’s still in the clothes he wore to the recital. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’d go for a drive, but I–”

“If she wakes up, I’m here and if she needs you, I’ll call. Go. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Go for a drive,” his mother insists. “She’s okay. I promise.”

Zach considers it. With work and Ella and you, his mind has been sort of chaotic. A drive, even a short one, will give him some relief.

“Thanks,” he finally says, giving his mom a grateful smile.

The streetlights plunge him in and out of darkness as he drives through town. When he got in the car, the impulse to go see you seemed ridiculous. With every minute that passes, it feels less and less silly.

Zach eventually pulls over and looks at his phone, staring at the text message he sent you ten minutes ago. How could he even ask to come over without coming on too strong or crossing a boundary?

He’s not sure if he believed in signs from the universe before, but when you text him right when he’s considering if he should text you, he takes it as his answer.

Nothing is ever her fault. But now I’m having a midnight snack lol. Are you still awake?

He replies: Yes. Just driving around. Do you want company?

He’s nervous as he waits. But then you send him your address.

Minutes later, you open your door to gentle knocks, heart skipping when you see him. At this point, being apart from Zach is starting to hurt. You lied when you texted him. You know exactly why you’re wired. It’s because he won’t leave your mind.

“Hi,” he says, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Kind of crazy that you’ve been to my house a million times, but I have no idea what your place looks like.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask. “You need to see it that bad?”

“I think it’s what’s keeping me awake.”

You laugh, stepping back, inviting him in. Zach’s eyes travel over your apartment, taking in every little piece that you’ve put into it. Being here is more intimate than he expected. And then you shut the door behind him, thickening the tension, both of you now sharing complete privacy in a way you never have before.

“Is that an Ella original?” he says, pointing to a drawing stuck on your fridge.

“Yup. That’s me and her and the castle we live in,” you tell him. You lead him into the kitchen as you gaze at the bright crayon marking the paper. “And that’s her horse. She was very adamant about it being her horse. But I can pet it if I ask nicely.”

He laughs and gazes at the drawing, touched that you’d keep something his daughter made up on display. Even when you’re not at the house, you want to be reminded of her.

“Where am I?” he asks in mock offense.

“I’m sure she meant to include you, but the horse took up too much space,” you explain, looking over your shoulder up at him. He’s inches away from you, towering above you. You’re so close to him that you can see the stubble growing over his jaw.

“The tutus are a nice touch,” he says, pointing to the pink skirts drawn on both of you. You laugh and turn to face him all the way. You clear your throat, smitten that he’s really here.

“She was great tonight, huh?” you ask.

“She was.” Zach’s smile is bright, the same way it always is whenever he talks about her. “And she wanted all the grandparents there.”

“I think that’s progress.”

“Me, too.” He exhales. “It was an almost perfect night.”

“Almost?”

“My hand still hurts,” he mumbles, face pinching as he looks down at his hand.

“Listen…” you say with a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, okay? I was stressed.” Zach laughs and it takes everything in him not to hug you. “Was it really that bad?”

“So bad,” he teases, flexing his hand. “You’re too reckless.”

“Reckless? Is that what you think of me?”

Zach cocks his head, staring down at you with a look that burns through you, and soberly says, “No. It’s not.”

His gaze drifts over your face, taking you in slowly. You think back to the first time you saw those eyes, sad and distant. Comparing the way he looked that morning to how he’s gazing at you right now is like comparing black and white.

The light atmosphere has quickly been replaced by a somberness hanging over both of you. Your heart is thumping against your chest. Hard.

“What, then?” you ask.

How can he even find the words to describe how you make him feel? You fit perfectly in every way. You settled into his life like there was always a place waiting just for you. Even tonight, when you grabbed his hand for only a moment, it felt like he was born to be touched by you.

You’ve brought light to his life. He always looked forward to coming home to his daughter, and now he looks forward to coming home to you, too. And having to continue to live like this, acting like his heart isn’t completely yours, is torture.

“I think you’re…” Zach’s tone is low, lids dropping as he looks at your lips before he speaks again. “Perfect.”

Your breath catches. You’ve been able to keep yourself away from him for what feels like ages. You’re not sure you’ll have the strength for much longer. This is the moment where everything can change. You know you both feel it.

“Should I not be here?” he says quietly.

It’s his way of making sure you’re okay. That you want him to be here as badly as he wants to be here. That even though maybe this shouldn’t be happening, you have faith that it will only bring you both joy, and you don’t need to consider the risks because you’ll never have to face them.

He looks so painfully unsure that you long to comfort him. Your hand finds his and he laces his warm fingers between yours the instant he feels you. He exhales slowly, never having felt so vulnerable before.

Too much is on the line. He’s only thinking of himself right now. He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have given in, he shouldn’t have–

“Stay,” you whisper. Your simple word untangles the knot in his chest. You step closer to seal the distance that remains between you. His eyes finally drift back up to find yours.

“I can’t help how I feel about you,” Zach murmurs. “I don’t want to mess up how good things are, but I just…”

He trails off into silence, sighing shakily.

“I know,” you say. “Me, too.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says with a note of pity. You breathe a sad chuckle.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you here.”

Zach’s grip on your hand tightens, his heart feeling like it’s just been put together after being fractured for years. His lips part and while he doesn’t know how to say how much your words mean to him, he knows how to show it.

He leans closer, cupping your face, capturing your lips with a soft and impatient kiss. You dissolve into bliss, eyelids fluttering closed as his hot mouth presses against yours, head swimming, body buzzing.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, eyelashes overlapping as you kiss deeply, hungrily tasting each other in adoration. His arms circle around you and surround you in warmth.

He lets out a short, almost silent moan against your lips, relieved and assured and grateful that you want him this badly, too. Everything about this feels right. He’s where he’s supposed to be, standing here, kissing you, baring his soul.

You’re breathless when you eventually pull away, eyes slowly opening as he tilts to plant a lazy kiss on your forehead, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“I kept telling myself that I can’t like you,” he says against your skin. “Do you have any idea how impossible that is?”

You exhale a contented sigh, afraid that you did actually doze off and that this is all just a dream.

“I think I do,” you reply.

Zach’s laugh is breathy, leaning back just enough to look at you. He’s in awe, his lips tender from pressing against yours, his knees weak as he holds your face in his hands. Now that he doesn’t have to hide it or force himself not to stare, he lets himself drown in your eyes.

He brushes his lips against yours again and you smile under the kiss, placing your palm over his hand.

“Is this the hand I hurt?” you tease, gently squeezing.

“Ow,” he playfully winces, making you laugh. You nuzzle your cheek against his palm and smile up at him.

“You sure you like me?” you say. He’s sure he loves you, but it’s too much, too soon to say at this moment. “You know you can’t afford any injuries right now.”

“Worth it,” Zach plays along.

“I keep wanting to ask you about work,” you say. He hasn’t spoken much about playoffs, but you did a little research on his team’s standings. “How has it been? Are you stressed?”

“Pressure’s on, but I’m fine,” he says simply. Your words won’t find you at first. It’s sort of unbelievable how he doesn’t ever flaunt his success, not even a little bit.

“That’s it?” you laugh.

“What?”

“Your team could go to the finals and you’re just fine?” you say.

“How’d you know that?” he says, his heart warming.

“Had to look it up. Not like you’ll tell me,” you quip, pulling away, his hands falling off of you. Zach chuckles, following you into your living room.

“Are we fighting already?” he asks.

“We won’t be if you tell me why you get all cute and shy whenever you talk about your job,” you say, settling on the couch.

He sits to face you, his knee bumping yours. You love that he’s as close as you want him to be, instead of keeping a distance like before. He finds your hands, holding them in his.

“Just a second,” Zach mumbles. “I need to process that you called me cute.”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle against his chest.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. “We talk about my job all the time.”

“Oh, come on. Because we have to. That’s the whole deal.”

“Is it?”

Zach sighs, kissing the top of your head, loving the way your body slightly shakes with your laughter. You sit up again, looking down as you interlace your fingers with his, playing with his hands as you wait for him to speak.

“I love soccer,” he says, “but I never expected I’d be good enough to go pro. And somehow, I did and all the attention that comes with it is just… it’s not me. I’ve never been the loudest guy in the room. Never wanted to be.”

You nod. You could tell soon after meeting him that while he’s confident and loves to joke around, he’s not one to demand the spotlight.

“And now the more attention I get,” he continues, “the more people might want to know about me and I’d rather keep Ella safe and give her a normal life.”

He scratches his cheek, uncertainty flashing on his face.

“And… I’m not exactly proud that I’m not working a normal job. I’m always thinking that maybe it’d be better for Ella if I had a nine to five, but the pay is great and I can’t play forever, so I just want to save up as much as I can for her. Then I’ll find something more steady.”

You're sure you’ve never met a person this humble. It’s nice to know what goes on in his head after having wondered for so long.

“Will you still even need a nanny then?” you ask lightheartedly. Zach purses his lips as he nods.

“I will if she’s you.” You smile as he pulls you in, holding you as your cheek rests against his shoulder.

“I don’t think there’s anything that you shouldn’t be proud of,” you tell him. “You’re an amazing father.”

“You don’t know how nice it is to hear you say that,” he admits. The worries that he’s being selfish have been gnawing at him for a long time. He’s always concerned he’s making the wrong choices for his daughter.

“I think it every time I see you with her. I know you said she was a surprise, but you treat her like being her dad is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Zach leans to kiss your forehead over and over again, palm gently pressed on your cheek, like he’s making up for all the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. You start to giggle under all the kisses, hugging him tighter.

“Speaking of,” you say, “I’m sure you’re thinking it, too, but we should keep acting like we’re just friends when we’re around our boss.”

He breathes a chuckle, nodding as he looks down at you lovingly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it slow. She’ll be so happy when we tell her.”

“You think so?” you say, your heart blooming from the certainty in his words, from the way he unabashedly intends on being with you and telling his daughter.

“She’s always asking me if I like you.” Truthfully, Ella asks if he loves you, but again, he doesn’t want to use that word until he’s sure you’re comfortable with it.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “She actually asks if I like you yet. It’s like she knows it’s inevitable.”

You realize that the way you’re wrapped up in each other does feel like it was always inevitable. You know that your heart would never have been able to resist him. You’re glad he feels the same way about you.

────୨ৎ────

A week after the night in your apartment is the semi-final. You’re sitting in the living room playing with Ella with the game on in the background. She’s partly interested, whereas you can’t ignore the ball of nerves sitting deep in your stomach.

Zach’s been opening up more about his job when you get time alone, admitting that the pressure can give him tunnel-vision sometimes. You’ve taken on the workload as much as you can so that he’s not too stressed.

You’ve kept things the same when you’re around Ella and you’ve already determined that if she asks why you’re so invested in what’s on tv, you’ll simply say you grew an interest in soccer after the home game you both attended. But she’s too busy playing with clay to care.

The first half ends with no goals scored. You set up an afternoon snack for Ella, letting her help, your mind elsewhere as you imagine Zach in the locker room, wondering what his coach is telling him and what he’s thinking about at this moment.

Five minutes after half-time, the opponents score. Your heart sinks. Twenty minutes later, Zach scores. You have to stifle how loudly you want to cheer.

Then, the game goes to penalty shoot-outs. Zach had told you how much he hates when a game comes down to that. It’s a nail-biting few minutes, but Zach’s team wins, securing their spot in the finals. In his next game, his team could take the cup.

Right before dinner, you and Ella change into the jerseys you’d secretly bought a few days ago. Zach already told you that even if his team wants to celebrate a win together, he’d prefer to see you two, so you know he’s coming straight home.

He steps through the front door to see you in his team’s jerseys, rushing to give him a hug. Your arms are around his shoulders while Ella’s are around his hips, both of you excitedly cheering. Zach’s heart has never felt so full.

“So, I take it you watched it?” he mumbles into your hair, reveling in the familiar aroma of your shampoo. It takes everything in you not to kiss him when you pull back.

“You did amazing,” you tell him.

“Daddy, do cats ever come to your games?” Ella asks.

Zach looks at you, puzzled.

“There was a commercial with clips of animals crashing soccer games,” you explain, laughing. “It’s a valid question.”

“I haven’t seen any,” he tells her, kneeling to meet her eyeline. “But I hope we get one so I can tell you all about it.”

“Could we keep it?” she asks.

“If a cat comes onto our field and it doesn’t have an owner, sure, we can keep it,” he says. She jumps excitedly, then runs off to play. Zach stands up again, grinning at you.

“Don’t let her watch any more matches,” he says. “If a cat shows up, I’m done for.” You laugh, crossing your arms simply to keep yourself from touching him.

“Congratulations,” you say. “I know you don’t like the attention, but you deserve it.”

“Thanks.” He looks down at your jersey. “It looks great on you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to show him the back. It’s his last name and number. He almost can’t believe this is really happening, that he met someone like you who cares about him this much.

“Better on you, I think,” you say.

“Impossible.”

You face him and he gazes at your lips in the way you know means he wants to kiss you. In the few private moments you’ve had since you confessed your feelings for each other, you’ve shared warm hugs and sweet kisses. You can’t wait until you don’t have to hide your love for him anymore.

“Dinner in twenty,” you tell him. “I bet you worked up an appetite.”

Zach’s legs are heavy as he trudges up the stairs, partly from fatigue, but mostly because the last thing his body wants to do is be away from you.

────୨ৎ────

Zach’s family drives in to watch the championship game at the house. You weren’t all that nervous around them before, but now that you and Zach are privately dating, you’re eager to impress them.

He had mentioned to you that he hadn’t told them about you yet, but he’s hoping to the next time he sees them. He also told you how his mom had a suspicion about you two, which makes you hope you’re not too obvious.

It’s only been a couple of weeks since you decided to date, but every moment you get alone with Zach isn’t long enough. You knew he was kind-hearted, but now that he’s not holding back, he showers you with affection and compliments, reminding you of how much he appreciates you every day.

Just like it is with Zach, it’s easy with his family. You talk and snack and take turns playing with Ella while you watch the game. The game starts off as promising, but unfortunately, the final ends with a loss for his team.

“He did tell me they were kind of the underdogs,” you say to his family sadly, watching the screen. “I still think it’s great that he got this far.”

The stadium he’s playing in is hours away and he won’t be getting home until after midnight. You spend the rest of the evening with Zach’s family, wishing you could see him and give him a comforting hug.

When Zach gets to the locker room, dejected and disappointed, he checks his phone to see a text from you. I know it’s not how you wanted the season to end, but you played an amazing game. We’re all so proud of you, no matter what.

It’s ten minutes past midnight when you hear the front door open. You’ve been sitting in the kitchen, staying awake on your phone after everyone turned in for the night. You turn on the kettle you already filled with water and find Zach in the dim hallway, meeting his eyes with sympathy.

“You’re here,” he mumbles in surprise. You only close the distance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly.

“Wanted to see you,” you whisper. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had better days,” he admits, kissing your neck. “This feels good, though.”

“I’m making you some tea if you want it,” you tell him, “but if you’d rather go to bed, I get it.”

“Tea sounds good.” He pulls back, stroking your cheek. “You’re really proud of me? Even though I’m a total loser?”

You half-chuckle, nudging him.

“Never call yourself that again,” you say.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll stop ‘accidentally’ making too much food,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him.

You settle in the kitchen, reminded of the first time you sat together like this all those months ago to plan Ella’s birthday party. Now she’s halfway to six years old, growing faster than you could have ever anticipated.

After you put the steaming mug of tea in front of him, Zach puts his hand over yours, squeezing.

“I tried to be positive but I saw it coming,” he admits to you. “They were the stronger team. We’ll just train harder and hopefully get them next year.”

“And I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you say. “Just don’t beat yourself up over this, okay? You’re not a loser.”

“Baby…” Zach breathes a chuckle. “Being with you makes me feel like I’m always winning. It sucks to get this far and to put so much work in just to lose, but knowing you and Ella are waiting for me at home… That's what my life is really about.”

You stare at him, awestruck, heart beating so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“I love you,” he says. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon to say, but I’ve loved you for a long time.”

You bite your lip, giving into the urge to lean closer and kiss him. When you pull back, palm resting on his cheek, you smile.

“I love you, too,” you say. “It’s not too soon.”

“Phew. I was more nervous about telling you than I was about the game,” he says. You laugh, pinching his cheek.

“Stop being so cute,” you whisper.

“I can’t help it,” he quips. “I didn’t forget how you said you haven’t been on a date in forever. What do you think about tomorrow night? Ella will stay with my family and you and I can go out for dinner.”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. You chat a little longer before you head home.

When Zach tells his mother he’s taking you out for dinner the next morning, she’s overjoyed to hear that you’re an item now and throws in a few ‘I told you so’s. When the evening rolls around, he tells Ella he’s running some errands and instead drives to pick you up from your place.

Sitting across from you at a restaurant on a real date feels like a dream. He holds your hand on the table and nudges your knee with his every so often, unable to keep his hands off of you like usual. It’s like talking with a best friend, the conversation flowing so naturally that he refuses to believe he’s only known you for just shy of a year.

When he drives you home after dinner, you lose track of time kissing him goodnight.

────୨ৎ────

You and Zach had discussed that today would be the day. Now that you’ve been together for over eight months, he’s ready to tell Ella.

It’s a Saturday and Zach’s making lunch while you and Ella set the table. Long gone are the days of spending just a few minutes together, one of you arriving at the house while the other one gets ready to leave. The three of you are almost always a unit now, settled into a routine.

After lunch, you leave as planned so he can talk to her one-on-one. Zach finds Ella drawing on her bedroom floor after he says his goodbyes to you and knocks on her door.

“What are you drawing?” he asks.

She holds up the paper, three figures under the shining sun. When he asks if that’s you, him, and her, she happily nods.

Zach settles on the floor, watching the way she colors in the yellow sun, her legs kicking in the air. He’s seen a change in his child. There’s no doubt about it.

While she was always a happy kid, she’s grown to be much more expressive and affectionate since you stepped into their lives. You bring out the best in her. The best in him, too.

He tries to force down the tears that come up every time he looks at his daughter and thinks about what happened a year ago. She’s too small to have to know the pain of abandonment and betrayal. He pushes away the thought.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Zach says, clearing his throat.

“Do you want another bracelet?” she says.

Zach smirks, looking down at the beaded bracelet on his wrist that she made for him a few days ago. She made you a matching one that you always wear, too.

“Yeah, if you’re not too busy,” he says. “But that’s not it.”

He says it exactly as he rehearsed, telling her how happy you make him and asking if she’s okay with you being his girlfriend. When she grins up at him and asks if that means that you can move in with them, he chuckles, tears pricking his eyes.

Zach always felt like he needed to make up for the love Ella’s mother wasn’t giving her. Now, there’s nothing to make up for, nothing missing. He wishes the circumstances had been different, but he knows he’s lucky that he met you.

He was sure soon after he got to know you that his daughter would grow to love you. Deep down, he was sure that he would grow to love you, too.

────୨ৎ────

It’s past nine p.m. when Zach gets home from training. Now that he’s in the midst of playoffs again, he doesn’t get as much time at home anymore, but he takes it in stride.

When he can’t find you on the main floor, he tiptoes upstairs in case you’ve fallen asleep putting Ella to bed. Sure enough, she’s snuggled up next to you, both of you snoozing.

It’s been a month since he told her about your relationship and somehow, she’s grown to love you even more now that she knows you love her dad. Zach wonders if Ella can see how much happier he is these days. He tried to hide how empty he felt before, but maybe she caught on.

He’d rather not know. He’s rather not think about the past at all, really. Because right now, as he gazes into his daughter’s bedroom to see you hugging each other in your sleep, he knows he’s looking at his future.

(the end) (continuation blurb)

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[starsinthesky5]

you belong with me (mini fic): hotel room || joe burrow x reader

description: sometimes the need to feel each other is just too strong to resist

a/n: SURPRISE! a little bitty standalone type fic before we get to the angstiest fic I've ever writtennnnnn ;) horny hour came to WORK in this fic...

also woah? two fics from me in 1 weekend? and I wrote this in a day? what. so if this is trash, boring, or me yapping, that’s because I wrote this within the last few hours and im sleepy 😋 this was inspired by 2 requests! thank you, you know who you are💗💗

anyway, go check out the one if you haven't!

word count: 5.9 k

warnings: smut (there’s thigh riding in this one 😜), language

you belong with me series masterlist

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"Oh, fuck," Joe whispered to himself as he opened the photos that you just sent him from your hotel room, the need to see you growing just like the tent in his pants as his hormones started to soar.

You both were away in Kansas City for the weekend ahead of the highly anticipated AFC championship game between the Bengals and the Chiefs on Sunday night. Joe had flown to Kansas City with the team as usual while he chartered a private plane for you that was a few hours behind him and he made sure that he booked you a hotel room specifically at the hotel that the team was staying at. He felt comfort in knowing that you were safe and close to him--you were just 8 floors beneath him--since you came to KC alone since his parents would be flying in early tomorrow morning.

Since you technically weren't allowed to see Joe and didn't want to go out in the City all alone, you found yourself absolutely bored out of your mind, not being able to find any entertainment or way to pass the time all alone. You found yourself like this a few weeks ago as well, the night before the first playoff game of the post-season, and remembered what you did to cure your boredom and entertain yourself and Joe.

Spicy Photos.

He loved them the first time so you knew he'd love them just as much this time. Maybe it could even become a 'night before a game' tradition?

So then, you found yourself half naked--only clad in a skimpy, lacy purple lingerie bra & pantie set--seated in front of the large body mirror and tapping away on your camera as you changed up your poses to show off the parts of your body that Joe was obsessed with (your thighs, your breasts, your ass, the crook of your neck where he liked to mark his territory).

Joe got your photos a few moments ago, and he was losing his mind. Especially because you were so close to him right now, close enough for him to see you. Or was he close enough for you to see him?

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered again as the growing erection in his purple shorts was becoming more and more visible. He needed to see you so badly, he couldn't control himself. Not when you were this close to him. Last time, he was a whole half hour away so he was mostly okay, but this time...this time it was a different story.

Joe opened his camera and snapped a photo of the tent in his pants, a cheeky grin on his face as he went back to your chat and responded to your photos.

Joe: i miss youuuuu

You: i miss youuuuu too, if you couldn't already tell by the photos ;)

He then attached the photo of the tent in his pants, typed up a silly caption, and sent it to you, wishing he could see your reaction in person.

Joe: image 📸

he misses you too 😋

Your eyes widened as you opened the photo and saw what he had just sent you, the silly caption that he typed with it making you bust out laughing.

"There is no fucking way," you laughed to yourself as you flipped onto your stomach and laughed even harder into the pillow as you imagined Joe taking that photo and typing up that stupidly adorable caption.

"I can't believe he just sent me that photo," you smiled to yourself, still not quite used to this part of your relationship. How could Joe be so sexy and adorably silly at be the same time? You went back to the texts and quickly typed something up to make sure he didn't think you left him hanging, playing along with his silliness.

You: i miss him too 😪

Joe raised an eyebrow at your sudden straightforwardness but was amused that you were playing along with him.

Joe: you and that damn purple lingerie are reallyyyy doing something to me

He scrolled back up to the photos you sent him, tapping on one that showed off your beautiful smile but also gave him a good view of your perfect breasts. "Fuckk," he shakily breathed out while throwing his head back onto the pillow as he placed his hand on the tent in his pants, the pressure that was building becoming too much for him.

Joe was obsessed with your chest. Whether it was laying on it after a tiring workout while you played with his hair or it was him leaving little love bites along your nipple while he was sending you straight to heaven with each thrust, that was his favorite place to be.

He needed to feel your lips on him again, he needed to feel your fingers scratching down his back, and he needed to feel you.

He needed to see you right now.

Joe quickly went back to the chat, this time hitting the Facetime button instead of texting you. You immediately picked up, a grin growing on your face as you saw his adorable flushed cheeks.

"You're needy tonight," you giggled.

"I need to see you," he said while running his fingers through his hair and moving his curls back. "Like really bad. I can't do this,".

"Joe, you know I can't," you said as you sat up on the bed, his eyes falling down as your body came into the frame. You weren't in the lingerie anymore, but you were wearing a slinky tank top which showed off your beautiful breasts.

"Baby, please," he pleaded. "I can't,".

"If I get caught on your floor, it'll be hell for both of us. Probably me more than you since you're the star of the show and they can't really do anything because it'll hurt everything," you said while moving your hair back.

"Nobody will give you hell, you're my girlfriend. Everyone knows that now," he smiled.

"I know, but being your girlfriend doesn't give me a free pass to bend the rules that every NFL team has to follow," you sighed.

You wanted to see him so bad, but you were scared that you'd get caught and didn't even want to think about what the consequences would be. They had NFL players stay at a hotel the night before a game for a reason--home or away--and it was to prevent any and all distractions and to prevent them from partaking in activities that would release the energy they needed for game day. You both were already pushing it when Joe booked you a room in the same hotel he was staying at, the Bengals Travel Coordinators were not super happy about it, but Joe being Joe somehow convinced them to let it slide just this once.

"Do you have the Mascot suit on you by any chance?" he giggled, referring to the first time you joked about sneaking into his room by trying to pass as the mascot.

"Damn, I think I left it in my other suitcase," you pouted, a soft chuckle coming from his mouth in return.

Although he was laughing with you, he was still serious as hell about getting you in his room one way or another.

"Y/N," he said, turning serious again. "Please. I just need to see you for a little. I'll make sure you won't get caught,".

"And how will you do that?" you asked him, part of you wanting to hear him out.

"You can't come up the elevator because we have staff guarding the it up here so that nobody can come up here other than Bengals personnel, but there are stairs that connect every floor and my room is just 3 doors down from the stairs on this floor. I know that they make the rounds around my hall and the hall on the other side so you'll just have to wait for them to turn the other way," he explained.

"Why does this sound easier than I thought? Was this all I had to do to see him?" you thought, contemplating what you should do.

You would be lying if you weren't as turned on as Joe was right now. That photo he sent you made think some things and feel some feelings but you ultimately came to the consensus that you needed him right now.

Your brain was fogging up with thoughts of Joe. Thoughts of his lips pressed against yours, his hands massaging your plush skin, the dirty sounds of pleasure leaving his lips, the mere sight of him on the brink of coming undone. He was the only thing you could think about right now. With the way your heart was pounding in your chest and the way the heat was slowly rising up your body, you were either two seconds away from passing out or two seconds away from saying something that would really set you both off.

"Please," he begged again, a gush of wetness pooling at your core because of his husky voice.

"Fuck it," you whispered, you needed Joe. "I’ll be there in a little bit," you said as you got up and hastily searched for your clothes.

Joe immediately sat up on the bed, a huge satisfied grin on his face as a thrill shot up his spine. "I love you," he smiled.

"I love you too much, that's why I'm doing this," you giggled as you placed your phone down on the dresser and quickly slipped on your flimsy sleep shorts and tank top. "I'll see you in a few, okay?" you said to him once you picked up the phone again.

"Be careful," he said before you gave him a quick nod and hung up, then placed your phone back onto the table so you could slide your Uggs on. You grabbed your room's keycard and took a deep breath before opening the door.

About 10 minutes later, you were slowly climbing up the stairs as you were hot, sweaty, and out of breath. "W-what the fuck," you sighed as you stopped to collect your breath. "I need to go to the gym more," you panted, rolling your eyes when you saw that you were only on floor 7 and still had 4 more to go and you already climbed up 4 flights of stairs.

"Only for Joe," you laughed as you continued up the stairs. You wouldn't be caught dead doing this for another man, but for Joe? Anything. You'd move planets for the person that you've been in love with for 9 years if he asked you to, and you had the comfort of knowing that he would do the exact same for you.

Another 10 minutes later, you finally made it to the 11th floor.

"Holy fuck," you said while wiping the thin layer of sweat off your forehead, quickly crouching down once you saw one of the Bengals staff members through the little window in the door. "Fuck," you whispered as you peeked your head up to see if they saw you or not, which they didn't.

"Any minute now," you whispered, waiting for them to turn around and go down the other hallway.

You watched carefully for about two minutes, getting impatient as they took their sweet time before you saw them turn around and start walking down to the other hallway.

"Finally," you whispered to yourself as you stood up and quietly twisted the door handle, carefully stepping out into the hallway before gently shutting the door behind you.

You slowly walked down the hallway, counting 3 doors down from the stairs but realizing Joe never told you which door 3 doors down was his room.

You reached for your phone to text him but were met with an empty pocket. A frustrated sigh leaves your lips when you realize you left your phone on the table.

"Ugh. Left or Right?" you whispered to yourself as you looked back and forth between the doors. "This is like a game of roulette," you soughed. You eventually chose the left door, accepting that if you were wrong you would quickly leave the floor with your tail between your legs and go back down 8 flights of stairs to your room.

"Okay," you breathed out before making your hand into a fist and knocking on the door, in an uber-specific pattern.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-Knock", matching the start of the chorus with a steady beat.

Pause for 1 second.

One slow Knock "Knock", reflects the continuation of the melody.

Pause for 1 second.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-knock", follows the rhythm as the chorus progresses.

Pause for 1 second.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-Knock", ends the pattern in sync with the final beats of the chorus.

It aligned with the Chorus of the song "Night Changes" by One Direction, a song you and Joe were obsessed with back at OSU. A song you made a special knocking sequence to for times you showed up at each other's rooms unannounced for whatever reason. You made this special sequence up because there were times you didn't want to see other or hang out with other people, but you always wanted to see each other no matter the circumstance. This knocking sequence always let you both know who was at the door.

"Hm, that's ironic," you giggled as you remembered the Chorus of the song.

"We're only getting older baby and I been thinking about it lately, Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes, Everything that you've ever dreamed of, Disappearing when you wake up, But there's nothing to be afraid of even when the night changes, It will never change me and you,".

It did drive you crazy just how fast the night changed for you and Joe. Everything around you changed in the past 9 years--your ages, your careers, your lifestyles, your relationships--but the one thing that never changed was you and Joe.

And that was the one thing that was never going to change.

While you were lost in thought, you felt the door open as a whiff of air hit your face, your precious 6’4 boyfriend standing right in front of you.

"Oh thank god," you said, letting out a relieved sigh before you felt Joe grab your hand and yank you into the room, quickly closing the door before he leaned down and smashed his lips against yours. You were a bit taken aback by the intensity of the kiss, but it only took you 5 seconds to melt in Joe’s arms and lose your cool. His hands were firmly placed on your waist, the pads of his fingers massaging the soft skin of your hips, as he backed you both up to the couch across the room.

He felt the back of his knees hit the couch before he pulled away from the kiss and plopped down, spreading his legs extremely wide as he patted his lap for you to sit down. "Come here," he smirked, you gave him a quick nod before placing a knee on either side of his thighs and sitting down in his comfortable lap, the hardness underneath you making your hormones take over.

You cupped his face with your hands and pulled his face closer to yours, capturing his perfectly pink lips in another kiss. His hands landed on your waistline again, "Mm, I haven't heard that knock in years," he said in between the kiss.

"I had to let you know it was me," you whispered as you slid your lips to the corner of his mouth, peppering wet kisses up his jaw as his hands slid underneath the flimsy fabric of your tank top.

"I missed you," he rasped as you felt his other hand land on the back of your head, pulling you right back to his lips.

His hand then moved to the straps of your tank top, slowly pulling one down as he pulled away and moved his lips to your collarbone.

"Joe," you quietly moaned as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him to worship. You felt him attach his lips to his favorite spot on your neck, rhythmically sucking and biting the skin as he marked his territory--a special reminder to those who didn't know who you belonged to.

"Baby," you breathed out, grabbing his head by his hair and pulling him back up to your lips, your noses bumping into each other as your tongues tangled in each other's mouths. It was driving you insane, the more his hands moved around your body the more desperate to feel him everywhere you got. You wanted him to rip your clothes off and have you right then and there, but you were playing a risky game. If anyone walked past his door, they would 100% hear you two going at it.

His hands dropped down to your ass, kneading the flesh with his large veiny hands as he began to rock you back and forth in his lap. You instantly pulled away, taking note of how his big blue eyes were screaming 'fuck me' at you right now.

"Joe, we can't," you breathlessly said, his movements not stopping at your hesitance.

You feel him grab your waist again, scooching you over so that you are now straddling one of his thick, muscular thighs and not his lap. "Yes, we can," he whispered in your ear, heat pooling in your stomach as you feel his large thigh against your aching clit.

Joe continues to slowly rock you back and forth against his thigh, a tingling sensation all over your body as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh; the flimsy fabric of your shorts practically had you bare against his leg. You leaned your head back as you let out a moan that was a little louder than you both preferred.

"Fuck," you whined at the stimulation his thigh was giving you. Joe lifted one of his hands to cover your mouth, "Shh, baby. Another one of those and this will be over a lot faster than we want, and it won't have a nice ending either," he warned as you looked back down at him.

You gave him a nod as you continued to move back and forth against his thigh, his purple shorts riding further and further up his leg because of your movements. The wetness from your core was seeping out of your underwear, and your rocking hips were spreading it along his thigh.

God, you loved his thighs. They were so thick and muscular and the perfect seat. Whenever you saw photos of Joe doing his typical man-spread, you lost it. The thighs were always the highlight of the show, not his face, not his arms, his thighs.

"That's it, baby," he said while guiding you back and forth, somehow enjoying this even more than you were even though he was receiving no stimulation from this.

"Joe," you whimpered, his big hand muffling your moan, feeling him bounce his leg underneath you which made your moans come out in short gasps. "J- Joe," you moaned again, your belly fluttering at the new movement.

You lifted your hand and moved his hand off your mouth, then leaned in and captured his lips in another kiss to hopefully stifle your moans.

Joe was taking part in a mental battle right now, trying to fight off the urge to take you to the bed in front of him and fuck you into oblivion. He needed to feel you more than he already was, but if he did you both would get caught very quickly.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head that could solve your problems--the shower.

Nobody would be able to hear you both in the bathroom, especially with the running water.

He decided to hold off on that for a few minutes, allowing you to continue to do what you needed to feel your rapidly building high. He pulled away from the kiss again, lifting your head with his hand, "Look at me, Y/N," he whispered. His thumb stroked your bottom lip as he looked intensely into your glossy eyes, "Keep going," he encouraged, your movements getting faster against his thigh.

"Joe, I'm so close," you quietly whimpered, your clit pressed firmly against his thigh as the band in your belly tightened. You ran your hands up his arms, then gripped his shoulders as you continued to ride his thigh, your body starting to tremble on top of him as his cock grew harder at the feeling of wetness spreading along his leg.

"That's it, that's my fucking girl...you're so fucking sexy riding me like this," he whispered in your ear, his hands wandering along your body again as he pressed a kiss to your ear before lightly biting your earlobe. “Come for me, come on my thigh,” he whispered.

"Joe," you moaned loudly, dropping your head to the crook of his neck as you picked up the pace, your pleasure just a few seconds away. There was truly no place you'd rather be right now than the comfortable embrace of Joe's arms. This was your home. He was your home.

You bit down on the tan skin of his neck to stifle your moan, knowing that this one would be particularly loud as you let yourself go. "Mmph, Joe," you moaned as you felt the band in your tummy snap, your core gushing with wetness as most of it seeped out onto his leg.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joe breathed out, feeling a cool moisture pooling on his thigh as you quivered above him. "Baby, I need you," he whispered in your ear, your face coming back up from the crook of his neck.

"Joe, I- I told you, we c- can't," you choked out, aftershocks of your high washing over you.

"We can in there," he said as he motioned to the bathroom with his head.

All the hesitance and apprehension left your head about 4 minutes ago, so you honestly could not care less about what would unfold once you got in the bathroom. You didn't care if you got caught, as risky as that sounded. "Okay," you nodded, Joe immediately got up from the couch with you in his lap, his hands firmly placed on your ass as you wrapped your legs around him. You rested your cheek against his chest, whispering "I love you" to him in which he pressed a loving kiss to your forehead in return.

A few minutes later, you were in the bathroom, completely bare as the hot water of the shower was falling around you. You were pressed up against the cool glass of the shower door as Joe was spending some more time around your neck, especially at his favorite spot.

Your fingers played with his wet curls as you used them to pull his face back up to yours so that you could kiss him again. "We have to be quick," you mumbled in between the kiss. "I have to get out of here before lights out,".

"Okay," Joe nodded, his hands reaching down to cup your ass, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around his thick body. "Fuck, I needed this," he sighed as he looked deeply into your eyes again. "I needed you,".

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then," you smirked before pulling him back for another kiss, this one way messier and needier than the others.

After another minute of attacking each other's swollen lips, Joe lined his rock-hard cock with your already-soaked core, thrusting all the way inside as you let out a loud moan and threw your head back against the glass.

"Ah, Joe," you hissed, the feeling of him filling you up all the way still new even though you'd done this quite a few times since December.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joe groaned as he felt your walls wrap around his thick shaft, his hips snapping into yours after a few seconds of getting comfortable.

"Oh my god," you cried out after you felt his cock grazing your g-spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Yeah? You like that?" Joe panted in your ear after giving you another hard thrust which made him hit the spot.

"Yeah," you whimpered, his cock continuing to slam into your cervix, making you re-think your entire existence. The way he was going about this was driven by pure lust, love, and need. This was exactly what he needed right now, and you were giving it to him with open arms; and open legs.

You were the most addictive thing on this earth, he could never stay away from you and if he tried, he'd have withdrawals. For example, if you didn't sneak into his room, he would've had all this pent-up energy inside of him that would most likely turn into anxiety for tomorrow's game. But it wasn't, thanks to you.

For most, this would be a distraction. But for Joe, this was the best way to relax. The perfect way to collect himself, he just needed to be with you. You always made him lose his worries, lose his nerves, and make him calm down. You were exactly what he needed.

And you almost said 'No' to coming up to his room, pathetic.

A few minutes later, Joe leaned back a little and leaned down, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he rhythmically rolled his hips into yours, making sure that he touched every spot on your body that he loved.

"Don't stop, Joe. Don't ever stop," you cried out, feeling your second high building in your stomach as he continued to pound into you. You ran your nails along his back, lightly digging into the skin while Joe hissed around your breast at the burning sensation he was feeling.

After a few moments of showing your perfect breasts some love, he moved back up to your face, "Y/N, you feel so good," he moaned.

The sights and sounds of his flushed cheeks, tousled & wet curls, and open-mouthed moans drove you insane.

You felt your legs starting to burn from the rough thrusts of his cock, also because of what transpired on the couch earlier. "Babe, I'm close," you panted as you gripped his broad shoulders.

"Hang on for me," he softly whined, picking up the pace of his deep thrusts which sent you straight over the edge, your walls tightening around his veiny cock.

"Oh my fucking-," you moaned before you felt the tip of his cock hit a spot he hadn't hit before, causing your orgasm to rip through your body like a strike of lightning. "Joe!" you screamed as you grabbed his wet curls and tightly pulled on them.

"Y/N," Joe panted as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, your walls convulsing around his twitching cock. "Fuck, I'm," he choked out, his orgasm begging to be released.

"I know, I know," you soothed as you rubbed his back while coming down from your high. "I'm here," you said while kissing his reddened cheek. "I'm right here,"

A few more thrusts later, you felt him let go as your walls were coated with warm spurts of his cum, Joe continuing to whimper and moan into your ear as he felt his high come over him. "F- Fuck, you're incredible,".

"I love you," he panted, trying to catch his breath as he gently let go of your legs and set you back on the ground, your knees buckling as you fell right into him. "Woah, I got you," he smiled as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you," you giggled as you clung onto him, the hot water falling on both of you making you feel even more refreshed than your previous orgasms.

About 10 minutes later, you both dried each other off and made it out of the shower. You slipped your clothes back on before brushing your wet hair in the mirror while Joe changed into a fresh pair of shorts behind you, your eyes widening at the red scratches on his back.

"Oh, shit," you gasped as you flipped around to look at his back. "I'm sorry,".

"No need to say sorry, princess," he smiled. "I like it when you leave a mark," he winked.

"But the guys are probably going to give you shit for it," you frowned. "They'll see that those are fresh and figure it out,".

"If the guys find out, they'll be too busy bitchin' about how it's not fair for them to not be able to see their girls before a game to care that you broke about a dozen league rules," he laughed. "Besides," he added as he placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around so that you were facing the mirror again. "I left plenty of marks on you," he said while resting his chin on your shoulder and moving your wet hair to the back to show off your neck, a prominent purple love bite on your neck with a few small, faint ones scattered around it.

"Good thing I brought extra concealer," you giggled as you felt Joe pepper kisses along your neck.

"Mhmm," he hummed as he looked back up and met your tired eyes in the mirror. "I still can't believe you actually snuck up here. We should do this more often next season,".

"Woahhh, slow down, Burrow. I had to climb 8 flights of stairs to get up here. My legs are about to snap in half and I have 8 more flights to go down to go back to my room. This is def a once in a once-in-a-blue-moon deal," you nodded. "Stairs are not my thing,".

"Fine," he sighed, earning a pleased smile from you. "I'll be looking forward to the next time we get to repeat this little rendezvous, though,".

"I know you will," you winked before looking up at the clock, seeing that it was almost time for you to make your sneaky exit. "I should get going," you said as you flipped around in his hold.

"Okay," he nodded, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you at the game tomorrow, okay?" you nodded.

"Yeah," Joe nodded again while giving you a soft look with his eyes.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens tomorrow night, I'm so proud of you, Joe. You've truly had one of the best years since you've been in the league and regardless of what goes down tomorrow, you did your best and went above and beyond. I love you so much and I'm so happy and proud of you," you smiled while you cupped his cheek and pulled his face down to press a kiss to the crown of his forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N. That really means a lot," he said while letting out a deep breath. "I love you. Thank you for being here," he said while leaning in for a sweet, purely innocent kiss.

"I'm always here," you said against his swollen lips after you pulled away.

After a few more minutes of saying goodbye to each other, you took a peek outside the hallway to see if the coast was clear; which it was.

You stepped outside into the hall, slowly and quietly inching towards the door to the stairs before you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you. "Y/N?" the deep voice spoke up.

"Fuck. Ja'marr," you whispered to yourself, instantly recognizing the voice and turning around.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing up here?" he loudly said as he walked closer to you.

"I....uh....," you mumbled, not being able to come up with an excuse for why you were on this floor.

"Wait a second," he said as he looked at your wet hair, the purple spots on your neck which you clearly couldn't cover since your makeup was in your room, and your blissed-out facial expression and glow.

"Ain't no fuckin' way," he said, bursting out laughing as he realized he just caught you in a walk of shame. "No fucking wayyyy,".

"It's not what you think," you nervously shook your head.

While you were attempting to come up with an excuse, Joe opened his door because he heard a ruckus outside and decided to see what was going on, but he froze at the doorstep once he saw both you and Ja'marr look back at him.

"Oh my god," he said while laughing harder once he saw Joe's wet hair matching your wet hair. "You two seriously...right now...at the team hotel...oh my GOD," he said, his entire body shaking at how hard he was laughing.

"Ja'marr please don't tell anyone," you begged as you looked over at Joe.

"Joe, you do realize she probably just broke about a dozen rules by doing this, right?" Ja'marr asked while looking back at him.

"It was actually my idea," Joe said while scratching his neck, his cheeks turning red out of embarrassment.

"Man, why you so fuckin' horny lately?" Ja'marr shook his head, a laugh coming from your lips as you saw Joe's cheeks turn even more red. "I get you have a hot girlfriend and you're making up for 9 years worth of sex, blah, blah--not to be weird--but damn Joe, keep that shit in your pants till you get home," he lectured.

"Yeah, Joe. Keep it in your pants," you teased as you gave him a wink.

"Y/N, please. Spare me," Joe playfully rolled his eyes. "Maybe save the lingerie pics for when we get back home then,".

Your jaw fell open at his lack of filter considering you were with Ja'marr right now.

"Okayyy, I don't need to be a part of this conversation," he laughed. "Yall can have your lovers quarrel later. We have 5 minutes before lights out and the staff comes to check the rooms, Joe. So Y/N needs to get outta here or you're both fucked,".

"Well, I was just leaving until you stopped me," you huffed.

"Well, your secret is safe with me...for now," he grinned. "Yall owe me, remember that," he said while pointing at you two.

"You got it," you laughed as you gave him a salute. "I'm gonna go now," you said while looking back at Joe, a small smile on his lips as if he was enjoying this situation.

"Bye, Y/N," Ja'marr waved like a little kid.

"Bye, Ja'marr," you laughed before looking back at Joe.

"Bye, J. I love you and remember what I said earlier," you said while shooting him a loving smile.

"I love you too, and I will, " he smiled while giving you a small wave.

"Man, are yall still talking dirty right now? For real? 'Remember what I said earlier?' No. Joe don't need to remember whatever the fuck you whispered in his ear while going at it," Ja'marr said with a disgusted look on his face.

"That's not what I-...you know what? Never mind," you said while throwing your hands up and turning around to open the door to the staircase, a smile tugging at your lips as you heard Ja'marr and Joe laugh behind you while you closed the door behind you and slowly made your way down the stairs.

"Man, yall are really something," Ja'marr said when he walked back over to Joe's doorstep.

"What do you expect me to do," Joe shrugged. "I've been after her for 9 years. Let me have my fun with my girlfriend,".

"Have fun, but don't have too much fun," Ja'marr laughed as he patted Joe's shoulder and walked back to his room.

"That's considered too much fun? Please," Joe whispered to himself while turning around and going back into his room. "We're just getting started," he said with a content grin on his face.

--The End--

[callooopie]

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

[discokicks]

EYE TO EYE (FOR AN EYE) - ROY KENT.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

PART FIVE OF ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: well, you've been parent trapped. forced to talk about things you swore you'd never speak of again, you and roy sit down for a chat to appease your fellow coaching staff. meanwhile, in 2012, the english men's team have lost, and you and roy have a chat that leaves you on an... unforeseen note.

word count & rating: 10.2k, R (we're heating up but we ain't there yet)

chapter warnings: swearing, allusions to sa and harassment, some sexual innuedoes, majorly charged eye contact and tension-filled pauses (these fucks are damaged and yearning), WHOLE LOT of dialogue i apologize there's a lot to talk about

author's note: well hello. for those of you familiar with the show victorious, i've been affectionately calling this chapter the 'take a hint' chapter since i outlined this series. there's also a fuck ton of dialogue in this one and can read like a shitty script sometimes, so apologies on that front. sorry this one took a minute, got stuck with it then got busy. hope you enjoy, love you tons! -mags

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

There are approximately four straight minutes of uninterrupted silence between you and Roy before either of you say a word.

The first minute, you believe, is just the two of you actually processing that this is happening. You’d heard the jokes about Richmond being a family, about work-life lines being crossed, about true professionalism being thrown out the window at the sake of having better, stronger connections with your team. However, you never imagined that something like this was on the horizon.

The next minute is spent unpacking the reality of it all. You were here with someone you’d previously sworn to never speak to again, expected to talk about something you swore you’d never speak about again. And it was to be done against your will, at a random pub in Richmond, with your two coaches watching you through binoculars through a window like it was a Three Stooges movie.

The next, you realize exactly what it is you two are expected to talk about. Your Stooge coaches want you to have the conversation-- the conversation you swore to yourself you’d never, ever have with Roy. They want you to just talk about it, like it’s simple. As if it’s some silly little dispute you had eight years ago, not one that could take days to fully get through (and frankly, should probably have some sort of third party involved. You’re not suggesting a version of couples therapy but you’re not not suggesting it). Nothing about this is simple. Nothing about this can be solved in just one conversation. But, you figure, if Roy’s suddenly game to start to get into it, you suppose you should be too.

That leads you to the final minute, which is spent attempting to find the right way to start this conversation, because, truly, how the fuck do you even start a conversation like this? While you and Roy were never inclined to beat around the bush, this is different. It's so, unbelievably different and you don't know how you're supposed to do this. Especially not now.

Throughout this time, you’ve glanced over at Roy periodically, who you think may physically hurt himself with how hard he’s trying to avoid eye contact with you. He’s focused on the TV at the bar broadcasting the highlights from the Richmond-Chelsea game. He’s staring at the bar top. He’s looking up at the ceiling. Anywhere but you and at anyone but you.

After those four minutes, you feel the tension in the air shift. It may just be your frustration at both him and this situation, it might be his own, but you suddenly can’t take it anymore. And to your surprise (and Roy’s, for that matter), you manage to get out the first word. 

“So,” you say lamely, trying your best not to cringe as it lands. “Uh…”

Roy glances over at you, expecting something else to follow. When nothing does, and he sees your mouth open and close, he huffs a laugh. “I bet you’re happy you signed with Richmond now, huh?”

You place your elbows on the bartop, face falling into your hands. “This is actually insane,” you say, words muffled by your palms. “I hated West Ham, but at least Shelley wasn’t Parent Trap-ing his assistant coaches.” You raise your head to look at Mae as she places two pints in front of you and Roy. “Thank you.”

Mae nods at the both of you, eyes narrowing at Roy as she notices his silence. “The offer for double the pay is still on the table,” he tells her.

“Richmond can’t win this year if their coaching staff is fighting like cats and dogs,” Mae replies. “Your money is as useless as your arguing here.”

The bluntness of her statement has you chuckling despite yourself. As Mae walks away from a now scowling Roy, you take a sip of your drink. Then another. Then another.

When you feel Roy’s gaze on you, you turn to look at him. “What? If we’re gonna talk about this, I can’t be sober.”

“We’re not talking about it,” is his immediate response, and he makes sure to keep his voice low, eyes shifting to where Mae is at the other end of the bar. 

Relief rushes through you at the idea that he seems to be on the same avoidance wave. You want to have this conversation even less than he probably does. However…

“They’re watching us,” you say, throwing your thumb in the direction of the window. “If we’re just sitting here in silence, they’re never gonna let this go.” You glance over your shoulder at your fellow coaches watching you. “And something about Beard gives me the vibe that he’s like, really good at reading lips.”

A familiar growl of annoyance escapes him. “Then we’re going to keep our backs turned and pretend that we’re talking to get those fucking muppets off our backs and get on with our fucking lives.”

Your lips purse. "What are the odds I get you to chug this with me?”

Roy huffs into his glass. “About the same as the odds of it coming right back up because of my new fucking acid reflux.”

Your nose scrunches up in a weary sort of agreement. “Ugh. Fair. Where’d that shit come from anyway? It sucks.”

“We’re fucking old, Fourteen,” he mutters. “That’s where it came from. We’re far from what we used to be.”

“Yeah, but you were ancient when I met you,” you reply, earning a deep scowl in return. “I used to be so young and full of life.”

“If by ‘full of life’ you mean doing boat races in a shitty pub in London with a bunch of degenerate athletes—”

“Oh, my God. Grandad. The kids got off your lawn in 2012, stop bitching,” you say as you bite back a laugh. When Roy rolls his eyes, you point at him. “And by the way, I vaguely remember you joining us in one of those boat races, so I don’t want to hear it from you.”

Roy scoffs. “I did it to shut Rivera up,” he replies, shaking his head. “Terrible fucking influence.”

A fond smile grows on your lips at the mention of your friend, remembering the state she’d been in that night. It was the night you’d won the Gold at the Olympics, and Mel had taken it upon herself to peer pressure your entire team not just to go out, but to start at a pub and start the celebration with that godforsaken game. To this day, you’re still not sure if she remembered leaving the pub.

“She’s the worst,” you agree, though your tone says differently.

A beat passes between you, a question hanging in the air as if Roy’s unsure if he should ask it. If he’s allowed or entitled to know the answer. He asks it anyway. “Where did she end up?”

You answer after you swallow the sip of beer you’d taken. “She and Paige are somewhere in Surrey. And I’m still trying to figure out the geography of this place, but I know that it’s kind of close to here, which is nice. They’re supposed to come for our first home game with their son.”

“Fucking crazy that they’ve got a kid,” Roy says. “I remember when she was making a fucking fool of herself in front of that girl.”

“You’re telling me,” you grin. “Luckily it worked. It helped that Paige was in love with her the entire time.”

That comment is met with silence as Roy seems to only be able to offer a nod in response. The following quiet is less awkward, but everything still hangs in the air. It weighs down the space that stands between you two and makes your chest ache. You don’t know how to continue. You don’t know what to say.

You feared this exact situation with him. Just the two of you, sitting in a room with each other, running out of talking points. No team to comment on, no coaches to add input, nothing left to expand on. Only the memories of your past and a million unspoken paths to go down— ones you had no interest in uncovering.

The TV in front of you transitions to Zava’s press conference, and suddenly, thankfully, you’ve got another thing to talk about. “You’ve never said your opinion on Zava.”

Roy’s brow pinches. “What’s there to say? He’s fucking good. He’ll help us be better. I didn’t think he’d go for us but I’m happy he did.”

“Yeah, I figured that,” you say with the roll of your eyes. “I’m asking for your opinion. Not Coach Kent’s PR response.”

He takes a brief pause, then scowls and looks down at the bar top. “I think he’s a self-involved, strange little prick. I think the shit he does and wears fucking odd, and I think the hero-worship our team’s got for him is going to be a problem.” Roy shrugs. “But he’ll help us win games.”

You find yourself nodding along. “Do you think we actually need him?”

Roy’s gaze slides to yours in interest. “I take it you don’t?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your body slightly to face him. “I think he’ll help us win,” you agree, putting your chin in your hand as you look up at Zava (who’s holding a Richmond jersey with a smile) on TV. “But I’m afraid he’ll mess up the team dynamic.”

“How so?” he asks.

“Well, I’m assuming all future plays are going to be made around him,” you say. “Pass to Zava, get it to Zava, put Zava in a position to score. You guys have never done that before. You’ve never just focused on making everything work around one person.”

Roy’s eyes narrow. “We’ve done it with Tartt.”

“You’ve made plays for Jamie. But you’ve never relied on Jamie to be your focal point in every play of every game,” you explain. The intrigue on Roy’s face is something you haven’t seen in a minute. You continue, “Jamie’s your best player. Every team needs to have their best player. But that’s why, I think, Richmond works. Because you’re a team. You’ve got Sam, you’ve got Isaac, you’ve got Dani— everyone’s good at what they do and they know how to fill their role to work together.” You shrug and reach for your pint. “That’s how you’ve won in the past. I just think it’s dangerous to have the team play around someone else instead of playing as a team. I don’t think it’s sustainable.”

These points of yours are met with a quiet that tells you he’s considering your words. Not so much evaluating as he’s just… taking them in. It feels good to be heard. Not to be dismissed or waved off, told that your input would be considered as it had been for the last three months. 

You’re not sure if Roy’s going to respond to any of your points until he says, “Stop saying ‘you have.’”

You blink at him, not expecting that at all. “What?”

“You keep saying ‘you’ve.’ ‘You guys.’ ‘You’re.’ You’re distancing yourself from the team.” He shakes his head. “You’re a part of this now too. Richmond’s yours as much as it’s mine.”

“Oh,” you say. A strange mix of embarrassment and pride wash over you. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Roy sighs. “You should have said something if that’s how you felt.”

“And what? Ruin the fun of the Zava train? Potentially be the reason we don’t pick up one of the best players in the league?” You scoff. “Pass. I don’t have the seniority to make a move like that.”

“You still should have said something,” Roy presses. “Ted would have listened. We would have listened.”  

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done now.” You wave him off, shrugging. “He’s with us and I’m sure he’s going to be great and help us win. I’m just being weird about it.” Roy looks as though he has about a million things to say to that, but he chooses to bite his tongue instead. At his silence, you add, “Be nice to Jamie if he asks for extra training.”

The scoff that leaves his lips is loud. “I’m as nice to Tartt as he deserves.”

“I’m serious,” you say through a chuckle. “Don’t shut him down if he asks. He needs someone in his corner.”

“And it can’t be you?” he asks.

It’s an innocent enough question, asked with a bit of levity and a teasing glance. But it makes your stomach churn. The memories of West Ham, the sessions you did, Tom’s new comments, everything— and it all hurts. You’re not sure if it’ll ever stop hurting.

Any trace of humor drained from your face and in an instant, Roy knows he said something wrong. Stupid, he thinks. Fucking stupid. You’d gone quiet when he last asked you about this. He should have known better. Watched his words more carefully.

“No,” you reply softly. You take a long sip. “I’d prefer that it wouldn’t be me.”

Well, now Roy feels like an asshole. Once again, he wants to ask. He wants to understand exactly what happened, understand who or what has affected you like this. He has his assumptions (ones that go into dark places he never even wants to consider for you— seriously, he’d fucking kill someone and wouldn’t blink), but if you can’t or won’t talk about it, he’s not entitled to know. He’s not entitled to know anything. Your relationship’s never worked like that, even when you were on good terms. There was no pressure, it all always seemed to come out when you were comfortable. It had never been like that before. That’s originally what drew him to you. That’s why he stuck around.

Roy knows if you do decide to talk about it, it’ll be on your terms. And while he doesn’t like it, he respects it. He respects you.

It’s why he chooses to move on to some other topic instead of pressing you. “Whatever they say about your press conference,” he begins, shaking his head, “fucking ignore it.”

It’s a clunky transition and it catches you slightly off-guard. The leap has you suspicious that Roy might know more than he lets on about your situation, but you don’t dare say anything about it. “They?” you ask.

“The media,” he expands. “The football fans. The pricks online. They.” He shakes his head again. “They don’t fucking matter. If they knew any better than you did, they’d be where you are.”

They’re kind words filled with a rough reassurance that he’s mastered. To hopefully get rid of (or procrastinate) the heavy feeling in your chest, you wave him off. “I’m used to it,” you say. Roy frowns at you and you shrug, “I commentated a little bit for ESPN after I got hurt. I did one Men’s game and made a joke about how much you guys overreact when you get fouled to get a call. Twitter ate me alive. I still get threats about it.”

Roy inhales ruefully, humor written across his expression. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing I haven’t said to you a hundred times,” you reply casually, hearing him huff once more. “I think it was something about how you guys have to be getting paid extra by the Club if you promise to make a scene when you’re hit.”

“You weren’t far off," he chuckles.

“And I still stand by it,” you tell him, leaning in as his lips pull into a small grin. “Though I’m not sure I should be talking to you about playing up a penalty.”

Roy’s brows rocket up. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that i’m sitting next to the only person in AFC history to ever get two red cards in a game,” you reply, and the instantaneous scowl that forms on his face makes you chuckle. “I don’t think there’s been a question about if you’ve ever actually hit someone.”

“Those calls were bullshit,” he mutters.

“Roy, you tackled Man City’s best midfielder and took out both of his legs. And then you kicked a different guy in the chest.”

“He ran into my foot.”

“There is literal video footage of you looking him in the eye and saying, ‘that wasn’t an accident, I kicked you in the fucking chest.’”

He stares at you for a moment, then shrugs. “At least I broke a record.” 

You nod at him. “And we’re all incredibly proud of you.”

That smile of his returns and you can tell he has to refrain from rolling his eyes. “You weren’t so fucking innocent out there either.”

A faux affronted sound leaves you. “I was an angel.”

“Right,” he draws out. “You never got into it with anyone, Mean Fourteen.”

Your nose crinkles. “I liked it better when you hated that name as much as I did.”

“It’s grown on me. Mainly because it’s right.” When your frown gets deeper, he continues. “Even before the Cup at those Olympics. You were fucking tough out there. They could never get you to stay down.”

You rub your finger against the rim of your glass as you glance at the the highlights of the recent Arsenal game on screen. “Damn right. Got tackled into oblivion by Caroline Singer at the 2012 Semi-Finals. Launched me ten yards and dislocated my shoulder. Got up the second after and had my shoulder set in time for overtime.”

Roy chuckles lowly. “I remember that game. You hit a full fucking Locust in the air when she sent you flying,” he says. “You deserved that one. You were a fucking menace to her all game.”

You gape at him. “I deserved that?”

“You did. If I’m Singer and I’m being marked by someone like you during that game? I’m breaking your fucking jaw.”

While you scowl at the idea that you ‘deserved’ that, you find yourself having caught something much more interesting. “Also, rewind. Full Locust?” you ask with a leading sort of intrigue. “Like… the yoga pose?”

Roy’s hiding in his pint again, trying his best at indifference. “Is that what that is?”

But you know him better. A wide, disbelieving grin pulls at your lips. “Roy Kent, do you do yoga?”

“No,” he immediately replies, but you’re already laughing.

“Oh, my God. You so do yoga.”

The scowl on his face is deep. “Fuck off,” he says. “What the fuck is wrong with yoga?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you respond, laughter dying down despite the smile that remains on your face. “I love yoga. I just never imagined you’d agree.”

“Well, I fucking do.” There’s a beat, and for a moment, you think he’s going to end it there. But then, “I do it once a week with some local mums in their sixties.”

Your mouth begins to part as you stare at him, grin widening. Your laughter starts back up in an instant. “This is the best day of my life.”

(Roy can’t exactly understand what compelled him to admit that, or why he’s indulging in this conversation with you, but there’s a small, suppressed piece of his brain that knows he did it to hear you laugh some more.)

“I have—” you pause to breathe. “—so many questions.”

Roy’s hand shoots up as Mae passes by to ask for another round. “No, you don’t.”

“How did this… come to be?”

He’s scowling, but chooses to answer with, “I was newly retired and borderline suicidal. I found their flier and called Maureen instead of the hotline.”

Your elbow’s now perched on the bartop, chin resting in your hand to stare at him in awe. “Is this, like, at a gym? Is it at one of their houses?” You gasp. “Do you host yoga?”

Roy looks as though he’s regretted every decision that’s led him to this moment. “We alternate weekly,” he mutters. 

“Shut up. Tell me you guys hang out after. Like you grab drinks or do a book club or something.”

His hand goes up once more in Mae’s direction. “Yeah, gonna make that two, Mae.”

“Shut up,” you repeat. You don’t think you could be smiling any harder. “Do you drink rosé and read Colleen Hoover?”

“No,” he says, pointing at you like you should know better. When your brows go up, he shrugs. “We drink rosé and watch Lust Conquers All like respectable fucking adults.”

You do the math in your head and gasp again. “Does that mean you watched Jamie’s season?”

Roy’s lips twitch upward. “Yeah. Watched him be a proper fucking twat,” he says, then glances over at you in curiosity. “Didn’t realize you got that over in the States.”

“Jamie’s season was when it started getting popular there,” you reply with a shrug. “All my friends were in love with him.”

Roy’s brows shoot up. “Not you?”

A snort escapes you, and you shake your head. “Uh, no. ‘The island’s top scorer, sexually’ wasn’t exactly my speed.” Roy’s smile grows at your poor impression of Jamie. “But they were into it. They freaked out when they realized I’d be working with him.”

“Not your speed,” Roy repeats, taking a long sip of his pint. His interest appears to be piqued. “And what speed is that?”

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you try to play it off with a roll of your eyes. “You know what my type is.”

That smile of his stretches into something more resemblant of a smirk. “It’s been eight fucking years,” he replies, feigning innocence. “Types change.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, fully ready to play along and be just as much of an annoying jerk as he’s being to you.“Right now, I’m regressing to my French swimmer phase. Going pretty well, actually.”

“Oh, is that right?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer, biting back a grin. “Actually been talking with Luca for the last couple of weeks. It’s like we never left London.”

It’s Roy’s turn to roll his eyes, but it’s only half directed at you. “He was a fucking prick,” he says. 

“He was not a prick,” you reply. “You just didn’t like him.” Your eyes narrow, turning to face him with that same sort of feigned innocence he had. “Remind me why you didn’t like him again.”

“Because he was a fucking prick,” he repeats. “Fucking twat wouldn’t even watch your games. Couldn’t handle you winning something when he wasn’t.”

The scoff that escapes you is loud. “I forgot about that,” you mutter. “He was a prick, wasn’t he?”

“Fuck yeah, he was.”

You shake your head, raising your glass to take a small sip. “Whatever. Wasn’t like I ended up spending much time with him anyway.”

Roy’s lips quirk up into that same smirk, but there’s more behind it. “No, you didn’t.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks at that, and you continue to hide in your glass. Asshole.

Luckily, Roy seems to have more to say on the topic of Luca. “He was never your speed,” he tells you. It’s a matter-of-fact musing. “He wasn’t in your fucking race.”

You spare a glance in his direction. “No?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” he says as if he can’t believe you even had to ask. “You were riding light years ahead of him. He couldn’t keep up.” With a soft scoff, he adds, “Not many people can.”

That warm feeling returns and it spreads down your neck. You suddenly feel yourself getting shy. “Maybe I should slow down,” you attempt to joke.

Roy’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You don’t mean to do it. It’s completely unconscious, almost like an instinct. But you ignore the way that that makes your entire body go ablaze and look at him. You hold his gaze for a long while, longer than you have since you started at Richmond. And he stares right back at you. 

It’s hauntingly familiar and paradoxically comfortable. You don’t know if he meant to say that or if it just slipped out in the moment, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you. Even if he didn’t mean to let something like that out with that sort of sentiment, he’s owning it. It warms your heart and makes your stomach flip upside down.

It’s so fucking confusing. But then again, this entire thing has been confusing. You had been sitting here for just about a half an hour, and half of those minutes were spent going back and forth in the way that you used to. You didn’t think it’d be so easy to fall back into that with him. To talk to him like that again. To banter with him. Even to fucking laugh with him.

That realization makes you feel as though you’ve been dunked in a pool of cold water and allows a weird, foreign feeling to settle in your chest. You’re angry at yourself and at him for slipping back into it so effortlessly. You hate how easy it is and always has been with him. But you also miss it. You’ve missed this. You missed him.

It’s an absolutely horrendous, life-altering realization and it slants your world sideways. You despise yourself for it. It’s something you force deep down into yourself, hoping it dies a quick and painless death, but you know that it won’t be the case. Not if he’s still around. And not if you two continue like this.

Luckily, for both of you, the television at the pub chirps out a loud noise as a penalty is called for the game on-screen. You two snap out of it, promptly tuning in to distract yourselves from whatever the fuck that was. Old habits were easy to fall into. They were dangerous. You couldn’t wait to pretend like that never happened.

However, something still lingers. Something sits upon your tongue as you watch the scene unfold on-screen, as the medical and physio team run out to help the injured Arsenal player who’s clutching at his knee. You can’t explain your motive and you don’t completely understand why you feel the need to keep this conversation going, but you want to extend that same kindness to him, with something you’ve been holding back for years. So you do.

“I almost called you,” you tell him. He glances over at you, brows raised in question. “The game you got hurt. I was watching. And I sat on my couch for two hours trying to figure out if I should call you.”

Roy blinks, absorbing this, then turns away. He swallows thickly before bringing his glass to his lips. “Glad you didn’t.”

It stings. Like, really stings. You nod, trying not to show just how much, but your voice still comes out dejected. “Oh,” you say. “Right.”

Roy sighs at your tone. “No, it—” He wipes a hand down his face and the pint in his other lands on the bartop with a thud. “If you’d called that night, it just… It would have… complicated a lot of fucking things for me. And I might have—” There’s a brief moment where he meets your gaze, but he quickly drops it. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Oh,” you repeat, but it’s quieter. Your focus is drawn to your glass. “Right.”

That dreaded silence returns and it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced with him. What did he mean? What would he have done? What would you have complicated for him? The way he speaks gives you a pretty decent idea of how drastic his actions would have been, but you can’t figure out what he means. 

Would he have lashed out at you? Would he have wanted to see you? Would he have even picked up the phone if you had called? What did he mean?

You have millions of questions you’re too scared to ask, and you bite your tongue for fear of actually speaking them aloud. Roy doesn’t seem to like this and really doesn’t seem to like your answer, or lack there of (but truly, what exactly were you supposed to say to something like that?). You’re not sure if he thinks he upset you or made you uncomfortable, but when he speaks again, he’s taken on a bit of a softer tone.

“Just so we’re clear,” he begins. “I’m… happy you’re here.” He says it slowly, as if he’s testing out each word. “I’m happy you joined Richmond despite… well, fucking everything.”

You swallow hard, awkwardly shrugging. “I didn’t have a lot of other options.”

He gives you a look that tells you to stop being a smartass. You know it well.

“I’m happy you’re here,” he repeats, more sure this time. “I’m happy to see you again. But it…” Roy trails off, eyes locked on the bar top. “It’s fucking… strange. It’s strange to be here with you after I swore you off for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “It is.”   

“And I— I’m trying to be better at this,” he continues, still refusing to look at you. “Talk like this with someone. Be fucking open, or whatever. So, this is me being open.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, and you give it to him. 

He scratches at the inside of his wrist. “All of my past… relationships were…” He trails off like he can’t find the right word.

“Fleeting?” you try, earning a glare in response. “Transactional?”

That look in his eye doesn’t falter. “I’m trying to be open here, for fuck’s sake,” he grits, though the slight whine in his voice makes you chuckle. However, before you can apologize, he sighs. “But, for lack of a better fucking word, yeah. That. Nobody stuck around and there was no… love lost or-- fucking whatever. And if it did end poorly, I didn’t have to worry about seeing them. I could ignore them or get a fucking drink thrown in my face and it’d be… done. It’d be over.” Roy shakes his head and takes a long sip of his beer. “I didn’t have to be around them, I didn’t have to see them, and I certainly didn’t have to fucking work with them.”

There’s a beat between you. It’s brief, but it gives you time to absorb this, and for him to take a breath. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again, he’s looking at you. It’s a gaze that’s warmer than before, but there’s still that distress there. The confusion. Sadness.

He continues, “I really thought I was never going to see you again. And I had, I don’t know, fucking resigned myself to that idea? I’d come to terms with it. So, being here?” That’s when he decides to meet your eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck to do. I don’t know how to act around you. Not when I’m still so… fucking angry with you. Not when you’re so angry with me. I’ve never done anything like this—” He motions between you two. “—and I don’t know how the fuck to do it.” 

It’s a lot to take in, but you do so while nodding slowly. He doesn’t know how to do this? He doesn’t know how to act around you? This is confusing for him? 

It wasn’t a contest, but you’d argue that, given everything, you were in the worse position. You were joining his team, a team he’d clearly nested into and made a life for himself in. You had been forced to ignore everything he’d done to you for the sake of your career because you truly had nowhere else to go. How the hell did he think that you were or would be doing any better than he was? Did he really think you were dealing with this in a healthier, more stable way?

After you’ve collected your thoughts, you ask, “You think that this is easy for me? I’m fucking drowning here, Roy.” Your voice is gentle, and almost immediately, you can see the tension in his body resolve into something more open. “I think we’re the first people ever on earth to be put in this fucked situation. It’s like some sick psychology experiment.” 

“Sad fucking excuses for lab rats we are,” he mutters. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “What does it say about us that we agreed to it?”

“It says we’re masochists, Kent,” you say, and that smile grows as he shakes his head. You motion to the window where Beard and Ted still stand, taking turns with the binoculars every so often to check in on the two of you. “Who else would just go along with shit like this?”

Roy turns to the window. “Fuck. I forgot they were out there,” he mutters in disbelief.

You salute to Beard and his binoculars and he pulls them down to nod at you in response. “We’re sick, sick people who’d rather be uncomfortable than give this sport up.”

Roy huffs a laugh. “Cheers to that.” 

He tilts his pint to yours and it feels like a peace offering. It’s like you’re finally on the same page about something for once. When you clink your glass against his and sip with him, it ratifies that agreement. You bite back a smile.

“But there’s some truth in that, I guess,” you continue. Roy’s brow pinches. “I couldn’t give this up. I would rather be uncomfortable with this than let go of this opportunity. Because, I…” You take in a deep breath, scoffing softly as you release it. “I really thought I blew it. I thought my career was over after West Ham fired me. I didn’t think anyone was going to want the girl who couldn’t even last three months at an AFC club.” You can feel yourself getting choked up and you blink away the telltale burning in your eyes. “And then out of the blue, like a fucking miracle, Rebecca’s at my door asking me to join Richmond. So… yeah, Roy. This is so fucking weird. And you’re right, I’m still mad at you. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you did. And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.

“But this… this job, West Ham… I couldn’t allow my career to end like that,” you say, and your chest starts to tighten again. Fuck, was it always going to be this hard to talk about this? “You were right when you told me I couldn’t let them take what I love away from me.” Your voice is quieter when you say, “I can’t allow someone to dictate my career for me. Not again.”

You see Roy’s eyes close out of the corner of your own. His head bows ever so slightly and as he mutters, “Yeah. That shouldn’t happen again.”

Now you feel like the asshole. You know it’s deserved, but the somber, regretful note in his voice makes your perpetual guilt complex rear its head. You’re getting emotional whiplash from the highs and lows of this conversation and you wonder how much time has really passed by. You can’t tell if it’s been twenty minutes or an hour. 

But, however long it’s been, you think it’s a miracle that you’ve been able to get to this point with such little time.

“I’m not…” The words get caught in your throat and then escape like a sigh. “...ready to talk about what happened yet. I don’t know when I’ll be able to, but it’s certainly not now. I… It’s too hard to, I don’t know, look at you and talk about that.” You look wearily over in his direction. “And I don’t think— I can’t be your friend,” you tell him softly, watching as he bows his head. “Or be whatever our coworkers want us to be. I’m not… I don’t think I can do that yet. And I think you feel the same.”

There’s a long, pregnant silence, one that drags out and makes everything between you two feel heightened. Then, Roy nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Not yet.”

You figured as such. It’s almost reassuring to know that you’re at the same point. However, after this conversation, after sitting here with him, forgetting about everything for just a moment to laugh and joke around with him for the first time in years, you’re comfortable enough to say your next words.

With a deep breath, you tell him, ”But, whatever comes before friends. Whatever that is, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Roy’s eyes meet yours. He lets that statement sit with him, absorbing it, then stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. It’s as if he wasn’t expecting you to say that and can’t believe that you did. 

You’re not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing until he clears his throat and says, “You are?”

It’s something soft and sincere, asked with an uncharacteristic hesitance. “Yes,” you say. “Are you?”

You’re sure you’re imagining it, but you swore you could have seen the beginnings of a smile twisting at his lips. “Yeah,” he replies. “I’d really fucking like that.”

Unconsciously, you feel yourself copying the smile you’re positive was an illusion. “Good,” you say gently, turning back to face the TV above the bar. “Would have been really awkward if you’d said no.”

Roy’s laugh is one of surprise. “God-fucking-forbid things were awkward between us.”

“I’m just saying,” you insist with a shrug. “I wouldn’t have known what to say if you’d said no. Finish my beer in silence and just get up and go. Hand in my two weeks and head back to America.”

“Leaving two teams in under a month would have been a league record,” he notes, lips quirking as you narrow your eyes at him. “And don’t act like you wouldn’t have stayed just to spite me.”

“You’re right,” you agree almost immediately. “I’m much more vindictive than that.”

It’s then that Roy grins at you, and the look in his eye sends you right back to 2012. “Damn fucking right you are.”

You toe the line between hatred and acceptance as a familiar warmth spreads across your chest and makes a home there.

This, you know, will be impossible to shake.

LONDON OLYMPICS, EARLY AUGUST, 2012.

so sorry to see you boys lose, says the text you send to Roy after their penalty-kicks loss against South Korea. devastating way to go out. not sure if this is a bad time, but i do believe there was a standing deal that whoever lasted longer in the tournament got whatever they wanted from the other?

It’s a rather brutal text, especially after a loss like that, but you don’t care. He was so sure that your team was going to be knocked out before he was. It felt good to be better than him at something for once.

You’re sitting in your Olympic dorm room, perfectly happy to be alone for the night. After your win against New Zealand last night, you’d spent the night celebrating (or what constituted for celebrating in the Village, which was just staying up with your girls and watching bad British made-for-TV movies) and had not had a minute to yourself since. You were unfortunately a person who needed their alone time and having a career as time-consuming as soccer made it virtually impossible to not have people around you at all times.

Mel was out for the night, having gone upstairs to find Paige (the UK women’s team had lost in a gnarly game against Canada last night), taking advantage of the circumstances to ‘comfort’ her. Or, whatever Mel constituted as comfort.

(“She just so sad,” Mel had said, lacing up her shoes. “I told her I’d come up and cheer her up.”

“And how exactly are you doing that?” you asked skeptically from your bed. “You have horrendous bedside manner.”

“I’m going to figure out a way. I hate seeing her sad,” Mel said innocently. “Do you think restaurants deliver here? Maybe I can get her something to eat.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, she’s gonna be eating something, alright—”

You’re cut off by a memory foam slide slipper being chucked straight at your head.)

There was no way Paige didn’t see through her or what she was doing. However, it helped that everyone could see that she was totally into Mel, and you were thankful that your best friend’s mega crush wasn’t unrequited. Extremely thankful. Mel did not take rejection well.

Speaking of rejection, you think, as you feel your phone vibrate on your chest. The text from Roy stares at you from your phone screen and you can practically hear his words as you read them.

That was the deal if one of us won the tournament, he tells you. You’ve still got two games to go, Yank.

It’s the type of response you expected, but you’re unsure of the validity of his claim. i recall that deal differently.

His reply is lightning quick. Of course, you do. Your memory’s as shit as your jokes.

someone’s sounding bitter, you answer. i can hear you pouting all the way from chelsea. 

You don’t get a response for a moment, and for a minute, there’s a small part of you that thinks you actually may have pissed him off. There’s no way that he’d get upset about something like that, would he? You know how much he cares about football, but the Games are mostly just… fun. For the men’s side, at least. It means leagues more to the women.

However, before you can get too in your head about it, your phone starts ringing in your hand, Roy’s name popping up on your screen. You press your lips together to keep yourself from smiling too hard.

“Hello?” you say, the humor in your voice evident.

“I don’t fucking pout,” is his greeting, which earns him a soft chuckle.

“The fact that you’re calling me to whine isn’t making for a compelling argument,” you reply. 

“You know,” he begins, and the sudden accusatory inflection in his voice has you pushing your lips together again, “you’re being really fucking mean to someone who’s got the power to run you until you pass out tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I’m terrified. Tell me, are you going to be breathing down my neck now that you’ve got nothing to do?”

“Thin fucking ice, Fourteen,” he warns, but you swear you can hear his smile. “One more fucking word and I’ll replay footwork day.”

That has your mouth shutting almost immediately. “Okay, now you’re actually scaring me.”

It’s then that Roy laughs, and the sound sends a rush through you. It’s such a rare occurrence that every time you hear it, it feels like an accomplishment. 

“I’m sorry you lost,” you finally say. “That was a tough game to watch.”

“Tough fucking game to play,” he replies through a sigh. “We shouldn’t have let it get to that point.”

You tilt your head back against the pillows stacked up behind you, attempting to get comfortable on your horribly uncomfortable, tiny bed. “If it makes you feel any better, I thought you played well.”

There’s an uneven beat of quiet and the line crackles. “Yeah?” he asks. His voice is calmer and slightly warmer. You’re not expecting it. 

“Yeah,” you say. “You had a couple of good shifts in the second half. That last pass you sent up the field would have been an insane assist if Lowell didn’t miss.”

You hear him sigh. “That wasn’t Lowell’s fault. That sweeper was a problem for all of us.”

“Didn’t say it was his fault. We all miss,” you state. “I’m just saying if it had worked out. That would have been crazy.”

“It would have been,” he finally agrees, which you know is the closest you’re going to get to him complimenting himself. “You play Monday, right?”

“Yup. Canada. I’m supposed to be in charge of taking care of Caroline Singer which should be, y’know, a joy.”

Roy snorts. “She’ll start swinging at you before the half.”

“That’s the goal. I’ve been told to piss her off as much as I can.” Before he has the chance to make the layup joke you’ve just handed him, you beat him to it. “Which shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I’ve seen her play,” he says. “She doesn’t do well when she’s flustered. You’ve got a talent for getting in people’s heads. We can work more on that tomorrow.”

You grin. “So, no footwork?”

His voice is a low growl with a lilt of a chuckle. “Don’t push it.”

There’s a moment that passes between you two where you know you’re both smiling, sitting on the phone in your respective make-shift Olympic homes (one, much nicer than the other, you’re sure), knowing that this conversation is probably over for the night, but finding that you don’t want to hang up. It’s an odd, giddy sort of feeling, one you haven’t felt in years. You never expected to feel it again here, of all places, with fucking Roy Kent, of all people.

You don’t know exactly what possesses you to ask, but the question floats out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Are you really going to stay in London to train me until we’re out of the tournament?”

It was something he’d implied during your practices and once joked about, but he’d said it enough to make you think he was serious. When you’d once questioned him about it, he’d said something along the lines of making sure he saw through his investment or wanted to see your deal through. He’d called himself a man of his word, which you also had questioned, but again, it felt like he was incredibly serious about this. 

His answer catches you off-guard, but you suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything less.. “I thought you were winning the fucking thing.”

An abrupt laugh leaves your lips. “Roy.”

He sighs again and then replies with something more in-line with what he’d said previously. “I made a deal with you. We’re seeing this fucking thing through.” There’s a noise on his line that sounds as though he’s shifting. “And besides, you’ve got what? Two games left if you make it to the Gold round?”

“When we make it,” you correct.

You’re nearly positive that he rolls his eyes. But, he says, “I’m sticking around.”

The sentiment of it all fills you with a warmth that travels down your body. You’re still not sure what this is. You’re not sure why he’s doing this. You don’t completely understand why he seems to like you, why he’s sticking around to train you, or why he chose to train you in the first place. Everything about this is so out of left field and nothing about it makes sense. You couldn’t have predicted this if you’d tried.

There’s nothing about this situation that you completely understand, but you know one thing: you’re starting to become grateful it did.

You don’t question him. You don’t ask the things that are swirling around in your head, and you don’t verbalize anything you’ve started to feel the last couple of days. Instead, you just say, “Well. I suppose if you insist.”

He makes a low sound, something that you may think is a laugh of disbelief. He’s quiet for a second as if he’s going to say more, but he clears his throat instead. “I’ll let you get to bed.”

There’s a brief moment where disappointment swells in your chest, but you quickly shake it off with a silent scolding. “Yeah,” you agree. “Probably a good idea to be asleep when Mel gets back.”

“Back?” Roy questions. “Where’s Rivera?”

“Consoling Paige,” you say, air quotes implied. Roy huffs. “She’s consistent if nothing else.”

“She’s fucking relentless is what she is. I’ve never seen someone pine so hard for someone who clearly fucking likes them.”

You shrug, but then realize he can’t see that. “Mel’s not the make-a-move type. She’s more of a let-me-stare-at-you-and-telepathically-tell-you-I’m-in-love-with-you type. Which I get. But it’s still frustrating.”

There’s a beat between you, one that has you raising a brow. “You're not the first-move type, huh?”

Blood rushes to your ears and it spreads down your neck. His tone is leading, and it sets off every siren in your brain. “No,” you get out, and thankfully it’s more casual than you thought it’d be. “Never been my thing.”

“Huh,” Roy muses. “Good to know.”

Your stomach churns in anxious anticipation, once again not completely sure what he means by that. You’ve got an idea, but Jesus, he loves to be vague. You would have never pegged him to be coy.

Before you can respond, he’s speaking again, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Fourteen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He then hangs up on you, leaving you stunned with your phone in your hand, mouth slightly ajar, and the best kind of nerves coursing through your body. 

You can’t help but laugh at it all.

PRESENT DAY. (MID-AUGUST, 2023)

You awake to your phone ringing on your bedside table next to you. It’s a call that’s earlier than your alarm, one that has you throwing your arm to the table, slapping your hand around blindly to find it. 

Once it’s in your possession, you crack your eyes open to see Mel’s name on the screen. Your interest is piqued enough to answer. “Hello?”

Your greeting comes out as more of a groan, but you think Mel gets the message. Either that, or she doesn’t care. Because she leads with, “You want to tell me why I’m getting Twitter updates about you and The Dark Lord hanging out at a bar like it’s 2012?”

You open your eyes, squinting at the sun that’s peaking through your window. “Roy and I are relevant enough to be getting Twitter updates?”

“After that press conference you gave? Uh, yeah. You’re a bit of a celebrity to the football side of Twitter,” Mel says, sounding only slightly incredulous that that’s what you choose to respond with. “You’re relevant enough to have people spamming this picture someone took of you two last night.”

You hum. “How do I look?”

Mel scoffs. “You look incredible. The Dark One looks scary.”

“Scary how?”

“Well, he’s smiling for one, which is always a jumpscare,” she says. “And you’re smiling back at him which is even more horrifying. So, you know, just a scary photo all around.”

A huff of a laugh escapes you, and you put your arm over your eyes. “You wouldn’t believe why we were there if I told you.”

“It better be some fucking Twilight Zone, cosmic occurrence, because that’s the only explanation I’ll accept as to why you’re laughing with each other.”

“Will you take Coaches Ted Lasso and Beard Parent-Trapping and holding Roy and I hostage until we talked out our issues?” you offer.

You’re met with approximately thirty seconds of silence before Mel responds. You can picture the perplexed look on her face as she asks, “Do they understand the depth of your issues? And that trapping you at a bar without a neutral third party and law enforcement present is an outlandish and potentially fatal situation?” 

“We were actually very civil,” you reply casually. “Found out he does yoga now. Watches Love Conquers All.”

“Hmm,” Mel hums. “Does he do that before or after his day job of kicking puppies and burning down orphanages?”

The laugh that escapes you is involuntary. “Mel,” you whine.

“I’m glad you’re laughing. Because I’m certainly not,” she says, and the tone of her voice tells you you’re about to receive the scolding she clearly called to give you. “Because it sounds like you’re back on the Kent Train and I’m going to have to pick you up when he inevitably fucks you over again.”

“I’m not ‘back on the Kent Train’ or whatever the hell you just said,” you mutter, turning to lay on your pillow. “You knew that working at Richmond meant us working together. I knew that. Our coaching staff is insane, but they have a point. We can’t work well together if we’re fighting and not getting along.”

Mel scoffs. “You can work with people you don’t like. It’s called being professional. The only thing you have to be on the same page about is the team.”

“Richmond isn’t like that,” you tell her. “It’s unlike anywhere I’ve ever played or worked. These people are a family. And not in like, a corporate ‘we’re a family here’ way. They all really care about each other and spend Christmas together and do karaoke together. It’s actually really sweet.”

“And what? You’re scared they’re not going to accept you if you don’t join the cult and sing kumbaya?”

You shut your eyes in frustration at her words. “No, Melanie,” you say, and the edge to your voice has her scoffing again. “It’s not about joining the cult. It’s about the fact that I refuse to lose another job. Especially not this job. I can’t imagine any other club being as warm and accommodating as they’ve been. And frankly, no other club wanted me after the shit show that was West Ham.” Mel’s gone quiet and you exhale in resignation. “So, yeah. If that means I have to be friendly with Roy and sing their song, then fucking… hand me the guitar, I guess.”

Once again, Mel’s quiet. You think she’s hung up on you until you remove your phone from your ear and see the call time’s still running. It takes a moment, but she finally, finally releases a long and heavy sigh that lets you know she’s back on your side. “I just don’t want to see him hurt you again.”

“He won’t,” you say without hesitation. “I won’t allow him to. I’m never…” You shake your head. “I’m never going back to that. We’re colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You can hear her shake her head against her phone. “I really wish I believed that.”

“I mean it,” you insist. “You have full permission to kick my ass if anything else happens.”

Finally, you get something like a laugh from the other line. “Gleefully holding you to that.”

“I know you are.”

“Haven’t kicked your ass since 2015,” Mel says, sounding almost rueful. “I miss it. You’ve ignited a fire in me and it’s burning.”

“Does Paige know about your thirst for violence?” you ask. “I can’t imagine she wants Oliver exposed to that.”

Mel scoffs. “Not only does she know but he knows. I passed it on to the little fucker,” she mutters. You note the hint of pride in her voice. “Speaking of Roy, Oliver’s finally old enough for the baby leagues and he pulled a very Kent versus Man City move in his first game. Scuffed up the poor kid’s leg and everything.”

You snicker and roll on your back, eyes cast up to the ceiling. “I cannot possibly imagine my sweet baby boy doing anything of the sort. It must have been someone else,” you tell her. Then, you chuckle again. “Roy and I actually just talked about that game. He still refuses to admit that he did anything wrong.”

“Glad to see nothing’s changed on that end.”

You suppress a smile, but your voice comes out as a warning. “Mel…”

“Hey, you can be nice to him all you want,” she replies. “Never said anything about me having to.”

Fair enough. You know that this is the best your going to get from her, so you let it slide. “You’re still coming to the game this week, right?”

“Recent events have given me second thoughts—” Her response is cut short by your groaning, and you hear her sigh on the other end. “Of course, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss your first home game for the world. Or any home game for that matter,” she says. “I do draw the line at away games, though. Don’t love you enough to drive that much.”

“Understandable. And we’re still on for dinner after?”

“If you’re paying. That AFC coaching salary better join us at the table.”

You roll your eyes. “Good to know where your priorities lie.”

“I’m joking,” she says, but the way that the volume of her voice increases tells you that she’s not saying that for you, but for her wife, who must be in the room. When she speaks again, it’s much lower. “I’m not joking.”

“Oh, I know,” you respond. “Tell Paige I say hi.”

“I’ll do it when it’s less suspicious.”

You grin, shaking your head. “I’ll see you on Saturday, asshole.”

“See you then,” she says. However, before you can hang up, you hear her voice calling your name once more. When you put your phone back up to your ear, she says, “Please. Please be careful. I mean it.”

Her soft worry holds a certain weight that makes your eyes screw shut. “I will. I promise.”

“Okay,” Mel replies, a little more certain. “I love you, kid.”

“Love you too,” you say. “See you Saturday.”

And with that, you hang up on your best friend, letting your phone fall onto your chest with a strikingly heavy thump, letting each and every one of her words sit with you as you pretend that the new pain in your chest doesn’t exist.

The next morning, Ted Lasso gets to the Richmond Coaching Offices early. 

He’s even earlier than you, something of which has proven to be a difficult feat, as you’re typically stationed at your desk reviewing film before anyone else has even considered coffee or put on a shin guard.

But today, he’s done it. He has no idea when you’re going to be in, but to be on the safe side, he figures he should be quick. The wrapped book is carefully grasped in his hand, making sure not to fold or crease the bow he tied around it as he opens the door to your and Roy’s office.

It’s only when the book is placed on your desk that he realizes he forgot to write the message he’d planned on the outside of the wrapping paper. His face scrunches up as he scans your desk for a pen or some other writing utensil, but comes up empty. 

He then turns to Roy’s desk, hoping to find something there. Sliding over, he gives the tabletop a once over, frowning as he realizes Roy’s got nothing too. It’s then that Ted remembers something.

Roy kept pens and dry-erase markers in his top drawer. Ted only knows this because three days ago, he saw Roy pull one out to chuck at Jamie as he barged into your shared office unannounced. He figures he can let that one slide if Roy forgives him for going into his desk.

Ted pulls the drawer out to find Roy’s neatly organized stash of utensils, grinning as he picks up a pen. However, before he can shut the drawer, something catches his eye.

There’s a frame shoved into the back, showcasing a photo Ted had seen from afar on Roy’s desk a million times but had never looked at close up. It’s of Roy, who’s wearing the closest thing to a smile that Ted’s seen on him, his sister, and… you.

You’re positioned in the middle, grinning from ear to ear with your arms tight around both Roy's and his sister’s shoulders. It’s an older picture, one taken at the high-top table of a bar. Both you and Roy are younger, and while Ted can’t figure out the exact time period of which this was taken, something else catches his eye.

It’s something small, probably something that would seem insignificant if he didn’t know you two. It’s your hands. While your arms are draped around Roy and his sister, his hand is covering yours.

It’s something that could be considered friendly, but Ted gets the feeling it’s not. It’s only then that Ted feels as though he’s looking at something he shouldn’t and closes the drawer.

With the pen he was looking for in hand, he returns to the book he’s left for you and scribbles down the message he wanted.

No— I must keep my own style and go on in my own way. —Jane Austen.

He only hopes Persuasion isn’t too on the nose for your situation as he slips out your office door and into his own.

TAGLIST: @dark-academia-slut @tegan8314 , @csigeoblue , @confessionsofatotaldramaslut , @thatonedogwithablog , @hawkeyeharrington , @jamieolivia27 , @seatbacksandtraytables , @luvr-bunnyy

[cjlouwho]

ABC and the 911 team didn’t realize that there would be so many already traumatized millennial gay men relating to Tommy on levels they don’t understand (joys of most of the writing staff and Tim being heterosexual as far as we know). And now the traumatized millennial gay men who spent their lives hiding, are finally coming out en mass and voicing their disappointment in what happened and how badly it was handled. Whatever they had planned for BuckTommy will need to changed at this point.

And don’t even get us started on the Facebook wine moms. Those are the moms of the traumatized gay men. They are the mama bears watching their cubs in pain again after watching them getting bullied and hurt all throughout their childhood, their teenage years and their adult life. And they see their cubs happy with a silly little character on a silly little show and then it’s all ripped apart. And if there is anything Boomer parents know how to do, and they do it well, is to take to Facebook and complain.

ABC, 911, Tim Minear, and everyone involved didn’t expect this to happen. And I hope they learn from it.

The thing is it even goes beyond millennial gay men. Obviously it's important rep for them and I've seen so many posts (from way before the breakup) from gay men talking about how important Tommy is to them, I am not trying to undermine that in anyway. I'm just saying, as a bi woman, Tommy spoke to me too. I'm not kidding when I say I relate to him more than any other character on the show. Even Buck's bi arc, while I loved it, didn't relate to me.

I know we had to fill in the blanks a lot with Tommy, but he grew up with a Gerrard, was probably surrounded by Gerrards, and my experience was similar. Not exactly with my parents (they were/are very conservative, but not Gerrard-like), but with the school and church I grew up in, my city, extended family, etc. There was no access to the internet or a way for me to do research and work on my own biases. What I learned was what I knew and it's what I stuck with well into adulthood.

That's when I started working on myself, figuring out what I believed, how I thought about things. The things that had been drilled into my head from youth started to not add up and I was like "Oh, I gotta fix this!"

And then a few years after that, I realized I myself was bisexual. That is a terrifying realization for someone who grew up being told how terrible it was to be anything but straight. I know Tommy's loneliness, I know Tommy's fear, I AM that Tommy. And that's why it I wanted to see him win. I still want to see him win. I want to see him be allowed to be happy.

[stuck-in-jelly]

A self indulgent plot line I would love to see explored in Season 7 is the direct effects of what happened to Soren in Season 6 and how it could drastically change how he interacts with Corvus

Soren is usually the one making fun quips and lighten the mood around tense situations he will sing songs make up silly stories, and overall just be a lot more goofy.

But this time Soren just got out of a ruined Katolis after weeks of living in his own personal hell of having his abusive father back under the very roof he was abused under and coping with the complicated feeling of said father’s self sacrificial death.

I would be really disappointed if we didn’t get some follow up on how it could change Soren’s demeanor. Im sure he’d still try to make jokes, with some quips here and there but Corvus is really good at reading Soren.

I would have a hard time believing he wouldn’t catch on immediately to how Soren is feeling and what he is thinking and even more of a hard time believing he wouldn’t try to cheer him up one way or another.

We know that for at least part of the season Ezran/Aanya and Soren/Corvus will be teamed up meaning we probably will see a heavy Plot A and Plot B storyline with them.

It would make sense for the plot line to follow:

1a. King Ezran working through his grief and anger juggled along with his responsibility as King to his people and trying to stop the literal end of the world

And 2a. Soren working through his grief and anger juggled with the overwhelming dread and guilt of what has happened to his family and trying to stop the literal end of the world

Then 1b. Aanya who although hasn’t known Ezran long knows far too well what he is going through being quite possible the only person in the world who can relate to being a child ruler with both of her warrior parents being dead with an older adoptive/half sibling who could not inherit the Crown surviving attempted coups and assassinations.

2b. An awkward Corvus trying to cheer Soren up after having freshly crossed a barrier that he was unable to cross by himself. Filling in the gaps and silences or even just offering his shoulder for Soren to lean on and let it all out instead of bottling it up.

Soren and Ezran love playing this game of “Im fine!” After going through the most traumatic thing of their life.

But having these two forces; both who are not from Katolis Castle, both who can relate or empathize, both who are an outside force that are less much less entangled in this complicated web that is Ezran’s and Soren’s life.

They can help them sort out the strings they are trapped in, and help unravel them bit by bit

[pinkslipxox]

billie x reader getting their kids ready for prom fic pls??

ahhh I love this idea! 🥹🥰

——————————————————————————

The soft glow of fairy lights filled the O’Connell household, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere as the excited buzz of prom night settled in. In the living room, Billie stood with a wide grin, her pride radiating as she watched her twin daughters, Ava and Mia, prep for their big night. With music softly playing in the background, the whole room felt alive with anticipation.

Ava bounced in front of the mirror, adjusting her stunning dress, while Mia practiced her pose, her smile bright and infectious. Billie couldn’t help but beam at the sight. “You both look absolutely stunning!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can’t believe how grown-up you are!”

Mia twirled, her dress flowing elegantly around her, and Ava giggled, looking at her sister. “Thanks, Mom!” they said in unison, their excitement palpable. Billie felt her heart swell with love, wishing she could freeze this moment forever.

Y/N, her sweet wife, was bustling around the room, fixing last-minute touches like hair clips and makeup. She turned to the girls with a smile, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re both going to wow everyone tonight! Just remember to have fun, okay?”

“Mama, did you see how pretty we look?” Ava exclaimed, a gleam in her eye as she looked over at Y/N.

“I did, my beautiful girls,” Y/N replied, her voice soft and warm. “Just remember, you’re not just beautiful on the outside; you shine brightly on the inside too.”

Billie felt a surge of affection for her family, grateful for this life they had built together. She stepped behind Y/N, wrapping her arms around her waist and leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her neck.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Billie whispered, her words filled with warmth and love.

Y/N relaxed into Billie’s embrace, leaning back against her wife, feeling both cherished and supported. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Billie responded, her eyes never leaving their daughters, who were giggling together as they experimented with poses. “I’m so proud of them…and of us.”

After a few more final touches, Billie couldn’t resist the urge to capture the moment. She whipped out her phone and snapped a few photos, the girls striking silly poses while Y/N encouraged them with laughter. Billie then posted on Instagram, captioning it with heartfelt words: “Can’t believe my twins are all grown up and going to prom. So proud of Ava and Mia! You two are gorgeous, inside and out! 💚 #ProudMom”

Billie glanced at the screen, anticipation bubbling as likes and comments began flooding in, but her attention quickly returned to her family. “You both are going to light up that dance floor tonight,” she said, a loving smile gracing her face. “Just remember to be yourselves!”

“Mama, let’s take a picture together!” Mia suggested, her voice bursting with excitement. The girls gathered around their mom and Y/N, and in the sparkling soft light, they captured a moment filled with love, laughter, and endless support.

As the evening rolled on, Billie and Y/N watched their daughters prepare to leave for prom, hearts swelling with pride and love. In that moment, surrounded by their family, they couldn't help but feel like the luckiest parents in the world.

[loveless-in-nowheresville]

I’ve been thinking about Bruno Bucciarati so much lately, and a friend has inspired me to share this little Bruno thing I wrote here, which I’m hoping to turn into a full fic eventually since I like the idea

Notes/content: Excerpt from my A03 stuff, Bruno Bucciarati x reader, honestly kinda angsty, a bit suggestive at moments, reader is not part of Passione, Bruno acknowledged as the parental figure of his team

Bruno Bucciarati in:

“JUST GO FOR IT ALREADY!!”

Bruno and you had always seemed close. Something that was a bit too intimate to be considered just good friends, and honestly the first time anyone in his team watched him interact with you they genuinely believed you were their boss’s flame…but he would casually wave off such a silly theory, claiming that the two of you were just close friends and nothing more.

Some “close friendship” you two had though…with the way you practically sat in his lap when him and his team visited your place, and seemed to have all sorts of inside jokes and secrets with each other…you had a sort of understanding of him no one else even came close to having.

Not to mention how he almost visibly dropped his guard around you. He smiled more, laughed more, relaxed more…simply because you were near enough to calm his heart.

And of course the incident where you both hadn’t noticed a few pairs of eyes on you, and you may have shared a very passionate goodbye kiss that was MEANT to be completely private. Safe to say, very awkward for Bruno’s handful of traumatized team members…kinda felt like they were watching their parents kiss.

It just really seemed like you were the one. His true love, soulmate, sweetheart…in the rare occasions where you spent a few nights with them in their moments of respite, you would even share a bed with him, just the two of you alone, your bodies intertwined in the ever elusive peace and quiet, the rare moment when he didn’t have to be a strong and fearless and confident leader and could instead just try and lay his soul bare to you. He usually struggled to share his burdens with you, as they weren’t yours to carry and he would never want to needlessly burden you, but you always welcomed him to share his anxieties. You carrying even just the knowledge of that weight made his immense stress seem more bearable. Of course he wishes he could spend his days with you, and all you need to do is call and he will come, but even with how blatantly romantic the two of you are with each other he continually holds off making the relationship truly official.

Because, frankly, you’re not part of the mafia, and it is a life he never wants to subject you to. He’ll use his power and authority within the mafia to protect you, of course, but getting you seriously involved with him…it’s like painting a target right on your back. If he made a powerful enemy in Passione’s boss, and he ever learned about you…he can’t even imagine what awful things might happen to you in an attempt to send him a message to those who defy the boss.

He’s practically a husband to you already; devoted to you no matter how long you’re apart, always willing to take care of your needs…he has many responsibilities, and he is loyal to those under his care, but if you need him he will do most anything to help you.

At this point you’ve probably resigned yourself to the fact that Bruno would never build a real life with you. He was never going to marry you. He would never even officially start dating you…that was just how it had to be.

He will always have a place in your home and heart. You could be satisfied only seeing him once every few months. Could handle keeping your love for him secret, the darkness of your bedroom being the only witness to the true intensity of your love and passion for each other.

But you want his wedding ring on your finger. You know he’s your one and only, but you secretly longed for the physical evidence of his commitment to you. You wish you could share a home with him, share your life with him, and build a real future with him by your side.

You never had to hide how you felt from him. He didn’t ever raise his voice or get frustrated at you, because you weren’t like his brats who needed a firm hand and tough love. You knew better than to act or speak without thinking.

-

Your head was in his lap, the two of you curled up on your bed, and he’s gently tracing his fingers along your arms and back while you simply enjoy each other’s presence after months apart.

“I wish you could stay…” you muttered, reaching up your hand and touching his cheek. You can’t see the details of his face through the darkness, but you can feel how his expression softens at your quiet plea.

Soon you feel the pads of his fingers lovingly pressed against your cheek. He traces your cheek so gently. He’s telling you he wishes he could stay too. “I will do whatever I can for you,” is how he says it, kissing the palm of your hand on his cheek. This is how Bruno showed his love. Through his protection, his unwavering devotion…anything he could give you, he would, but please…don’t beg for him. He simply cannot risk putting you even remotely in harm’s way. It is not a gamble he is willing to take.

But rest at ease knowing he will always love you, you are the one he dreams of when you’re apart, and yours is the name engraved on his very soul, and it makes him the happiest man in the world.

He knows it’s unconventional, but he will always appreciate your endless patience with him.

It might drive his team a little crazy though, knowing the man they all look up to is holding himself back from someone who makes him the happiest they’ve ever seen him.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Changed some numbers for this AU but yeah, ALL LITTLE SIBLINGS ARE NOW OLDER AND THEY'RE TND OPERATIVES!!!

Penny's there too because I say so. :3

Roles:

#363: Leader no one can stand, but at least he knows what he's doing... for the most part. Still, everyone wonders how he managed to get into the TND in first place since no one wants him around... welp. Older brother of Numbuh 362. The two can't stand each other and Rachel avoids him like the plague. He always screams at her.

#T: 2x4 technology expert, pilot and hacker. He knows any technology around. Sometimes you can catch him play some games when they have nothing to do. Never leaves without his C.E.L.L.P.H.O.N.E. (Compact Electronic Line Linking Pathway Holds Outer Network Expansion). Mostly silent, very chill, keeps to himself. Can't stand Mushi more than Harvey, if you can believe that.

Older brother of Hoagie Gilligan, aka Numbuh 2. The kid loves him and wants to hang out with him more but, as any teenager would, Tommy keeps him away from himself and his stuff and his room. But Hoagie knows he will know ALL his secrets, one day! Let's hope he doesn't find out he's also a TND spy in the Teen Ninja lines (he gets info from Father and passes it to KND, not a real bad guy!)...

#001: Second in command, everyone would prefer her to be the leader but... well. Very active teen, a bit of a tomboy, she's in charge to come up with plans and put them into action. Kids sometimes mistake her for a kid in a teen body.

Loves to skate, play videogames and dance. Works as a mermaid actor at the aquarium in the weekends. Dating Joey Beetles. Sometimes babysits Nigel Uno, who trusts her enough to ask his parents to adopt her so they can be siblings. She... actually loves the idea... but it's impossible.

#40: Weapon and combat expert, especially for sport related actions. Can't talk at all and speaks using his V.O.I.S. (Vocal Operator Imitating Sounds) to speak. Thanks to that, he can use any voice he manages to sample, kind of like an AI.

Very active, plays many sports and he's good at all of them, especially dodge ball. Dating Penelope Doe.

Older brother of Wallabee Beetles, aka Numbuh 4. The two used to be inseparable, but since Wally joined the KND, he kind of drifted away because "teens are the enemy". It broke Joey's heart but... what can you do.

#30: Spy extraordinaire and camouflage master. She can turn anyone into a different person in a make-up session. Someone might say she's too good at that... like she's hiding something.

She's the school queen, a cheerleader, everyone wants to be associated with her. She's also very intelligent and good at art. She's perfect! But somehow, Tommy doesn't like her. Nerds...

Older sister of Kuki Sanban, aka Numbuh 3. The two seem to be very close, playing together and sharing everything, from make-up to clothes (well, those that fit...).

Sometimes Kuki accidentally reveals her KND plans to her, eheh, so silly! Mushi always has a good laugh telling them to her team!

No, I'm not talking about the TND...

No one suspects anything. Not even Tommy, since she never revealed her face while working for Father.

[noridoorman]

My reaction to episode 8!

Shh, spoilers below!!

I loved every second of everything that was there.

Nori and Uzi's conversation at the beginning was so sweet, albeit short. Bseeing that little happy face Uzi made at seeing her mom again... Man, she's been through so much and probably already thought she might have lost everyone else. So seeing the one drone she always believed was dead alive and ready to help Uzi kick some butts... Just look at her happy face.

Uzi's little laugh when Nori gave her "parental" advice is so sweet too. In all the years of her life, she never got that from her mom until now. And she finally got her mom back. It's so sweet.

Along with the shy smile and wave Uzi did, as if she's saying "Do I look good with the necklace?" And Nori responds with the cute emoticon on the stone.

Of course, that gets cut off my N RAMMING Uzi with the spaceship and oh my god, them.

LOOK AT HOW PROUD AND HAPPY HE LOOKS!! Plus, we got to see his little fangs!

And when he admits that he was mad about Uzi trying to sacrifice herself... Like, you can clearly see it in his expression and voice, he was really hurt by what she did, but also, he's happy that she's alive.

And honestly, I can't be the only one that when she first grabbed his face, I thought she was going for a kiss lol.

BUT OF COURSE CYN HAS TO RUIN THE MOMENT

I really wanna know what they said, Uzi probably cursed a lot lol

AND OF COURSE, THAT SCENE.

My god, hearing the music, the beautiful visuals... Like, the fact that "Falling for you??" is playing here and the way they hold each other and look at each other with so much love and adoration... The scene gives me so much goosebumps.

I loved how Uzi admits that she can't read the room because that's another point for autistic Uzi!

Their soft expressions, and Uzi's tiny "yay" oh my god they stole my heart.

I honestly kinda wanna know how N managed to steal the spaceship and go past J.

AND V'S BACK, LET'S GO!!

I was almost screaming like crazy in the hotel room, I've been hoping SO SO MUCH THAT SHE WOULD COME BACL!! :D

AND SHE'S RIDING ON THE SENTINEL, LIKE HOW COOL IS THAT?!

The way she says "Working with CYN?!" WAS SO SATISFYING AND GOOOOOOD she's so angry, go beat up ur ex babe /silly

This scene made me lose my shit, it's so funny, why is Lizzy being shook like a maraca

The backstory we're getting between them too. So I guess both were aware on everything, but only V was the one that wanted to change but was too scared to.

The amount of backstory we're getting on J too here kinda breaks my heart and kinda makes me angry at her. The way she said "it tricked me too..." probably because she geniunly through Tessa would be alright and fine, just for her to be... not.

J is obviously heartbroken. But she feels like she has no other choice but to team up with the Solver, especially know that it is wearing Tessa's skin, that's the closest J can ever have something of her.

"You know there's no escape, even in death!"

That line makes me think as if J wanted to die at some point, but couldn't. There's so escape for her from the reality that Tessa is dead, because the Solver will always bring her back.

Help, she's so smooth and cute and akhjdskjhsfdakjsda

The way how teriffied he is breaks my heart

When I saw that, I was in panic.

All of his eyes are focused on Tessa.

Cause of his trauma

Man, this entire scene with V apologizing for everything and even crying... She's been through so much pain and keeping so much secrets to protect N, but the burden of everything kept on weighing on her.

And her face as she realized that he revealed himself because he wanted her to stop...

And just as Flesha was about to eat N's core, Khan saves the day with DOORS! >:D Gosh I wanna kiss him on his stupid face

Gotta love V's tiny smile at Uzi, you go bisexual

I LOVE NORI I LOVE NORI I LOVE NORI I LOVE NORI I LOVE NORI I LOVE NORI

SHES SO AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL AND STRONG AND AWESOME AND SUPER AND HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE NORI?? BECAUSE I TRULY LOVE HER

AND THE NIGHTMARE PLAYING FOR THE FIGHT, GOSH I NEED THE SONG NOOOOOOOW

The Solver plays soooo dirty, making Uzi believe that she accidentally killed N. Gish, her expression...

The song is so catchy my god

They're so stupid, let them get married now

MY GOD SHES SO STUPID I LOVE HER I WANT THEM TO GET MARRIED AGAIN AND KISS AND ARGHHHHH

Tumblr doesn't let me add more images at that point rip :')

I'll give a more formal opinion on a seprate post!!

[diarylelakihamil]

Husband: (leaning closer, smiling) “This is perfect, isn’t it? Just the two of us, the candles, and the warm water.”

Expectant Father: (giggling) “It really is! I could stay here forever. Just look at how the bubbles dance!”

Husband: (gently kissing the belly) “And this little one is enjoying it too, I’m sure. Can you feel them moving?”

Expectant Father: (nodding) “Yes! They’re quite active today. It’s like they know we’re celebrating.”

Husband: “Every kick feels like a little celebration. I can’t believe how close we are to meeting them.”

Expectant Father: (smiling) “I know! It’s surreal. Sometimes I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

Husband: “You’re going to be an amazing dad. I see how much love you already have for our baby.”

Expectant Father: (blushing) “Thank you! And you’ll be the best partner. I feel so lucky to have you by my side.”

Husband: (playfully splashing water) “Well, we make a pretty good team, don’t we? Who else could pull off a bubble bath like this?”

Expectant Father: (laughing) “True! We should do this more often. It’s nice to take a break and just enjoy each other’s company.”

Husband: “Absolutely! Let’s make this a regular thing—our little ritual before the baby arrives.”

Expectant Father: (leaning in closer) “I love that idea. It’s moments like these that remind me of all the joy ahead of us.”

Husband: “And all the laughter too! Just think of all the silly things we’ll do as parents.”

Expectant Father: (grinning) “Oh, I can already picture it! Our house will be filled with laughter and chaos.”

Husband: “And love. Lots and lots of love.”

Expectant Father: (smiling softly) “Yes, that’s what matters most. Together, we can handle anything.”

Husband: (kissing him gently) “Together, always.”

As they leaned into each other, their laughter mingled with the gentle sound of water, filling the room with warmth and anticipation for their journey into parenthood.

[lleonnoell]

Asking as the only Paul fan ever (/silly) can I hear,,, more ab your rendition of him.

Of course!

Unfortunately, as I’m sure you know as a fellow Paul diehard, not much is known about him :((

So, here’s my info that I hc him with, and how I see him!!

Appearance: as you’ve seen from my drawings, I hc him with curly blonde hair, a bulky build (little less muscular than Darry!), and green eyes. He has a distinct mole under his right eye! (Our left) and a little tooth gap.

Personality: he’s very loud and outgoing in public, trying to conform to the social standards he believes he is supposed to. In private, he’s quiet and sweet, always joking around and laughing. You can almost always catch him with a smile on his face.

I believe he met Darry in a similar manner that Steve and Soda did. Kindergarten roles around, they’re in the same class, except there’s that distance between them. Darry was by himself because he was a greaser, he was smart for his age, too. Paul sat beside him because he liked his little kid jersey.

They loved talking about football. All day every day at school, they definitely got in trouble a few times for it. I like to think, too, that Darry’s parents didn’t get married until Darry was born. Paul came, and was their flower boy :))

When he was younger—his tooth got knocked out while playing tackle football with his friends! His tooth came back in crooked, so that’s why he has the tooth gap.

Him and Darry would always go to each others houses and watch football on TV (when Darry’s dad wasn’t hogging it)

Paul would hang out with Darry’s friends too, and his brothers. He loved the gang, and enjoyed their company.

Onto the sadder stuff :((

Paul has religious trauma from his dad. Really badly. He loved Darry, but he would never admit it. I hc him as pan, but obviously he says he’s straight.

As the years went on; Paul realized how socially unacceptable their friendship was. He started coming over in secret, only hanging out with him during school hours when they had football, not standing up for him anymore when the other football players would say something about him being a “grease” and a “hoodlum”—it broke Darrel.

The fall out:

One day, later on in their senior year, Paul is hanging out with Darry. They’re at Darry’s house, on his bed just… talking. After a bit of silence, Darry looks over to Paul, a serious expression on his face.

“… I’m not going to college, Paul.”

That… broke Paul. They were supposed to be best friends forever, always together, go through college together, play on the same football team professionally, get the same job—Paul said some hurtful stuff.

“I knew it! You’re just like all of them, all the others-“ “What’s do you mean by others Paul?” “Like all the other filthy greasers!”

They fought, Ponyboy and soda broke it up, and Mrs Curtis made Paul leave.

They didn’t talk after that.

Paul went to the Curtis parents funeral. They were like a second set of parents to him. He loved them, but he didn’t let anyone know he was there. He stayed far away in the back. He waited until everyone left to say his condolences. He left a present on the Curtis porch that night as a present for Darry, a sorry for not being there. The Curtis parents died on Darry’s birthday and maybe—just maybe, if he was there?… they’d be ok.

He always felt bad. He was never the same.

As you can see from my art of him, he had some bad habits when he was younger as well.

If you’ve got any further questions, lmk!

[lovinbarzal]

GREATEST LOVE STORY | TZ11

trevor zegras x hughes! sister

masterlist | everytime this silly little country song plays, i can't help but think of trevor!!! idk why but i do lol | part two

They said I was nothing but a troublemaker never up to no good / You were the perfect all American girl wouldn't touch me even if you could

October 2017

Trevor Zegras. Team USA's playboy. Y/N Hughes. Team USA's Golden Girl aka Jack's sister.

The Hughes twins only ever had one rule for each other, FRIENDS ARE OFF LIMITS!. Y/n never had trouble with that rule.

Until Trevor Zegras came into play. Trevor was Jack's best friend and line mate.

The two met in their junior year. Y/n was studying in the living room with The Maze Runner playing in the background. It was quiet in the house. Quinn was at UMICH, her parents were having a date night, and Luke was upstairs probably playing video games. She was enjoying the peace until a group of 5 boys came running into the house. She knew all of them. Matt Boldy, Cole Caufield, Alex Turcotte, her brother, and- Wait...She thought. Who was this other guy?

"Jack!" Y/n exclaimed as the boys jumped all onto the couches crushing her exam books.

"Yes?" Jack innocently turned to his sister who glared at him.

"Mom said no friends." Y/n scolded crossing her arms.

"Hey guys!" Luke said coming down the stairs but was quick to stop as he saw Y/n's glare.

"Luke Warren Hughes, it is past your bedtime. Get your ass back to your room." The boy slowly turned to walk up the stairs before Jack stepped in.

"Luke, it's fine. Come on." Jack waved the boy down before Y/n punched his shoulder.

"No, Jack. I am not getting in trouble because of you." Y/n shook her head.

"Come on, dude. Take a chill pill." The unknown boy said.

"Do I know you? Didn't think so. Do you live here? Also didn't think so. Luke, go to your room." Y/n said pointing to his room.

"Be nice to my friends." Jack said as Luke went up the stairs.

"Whatever, Jack. I'm going upstairs." Y/n gathered her things before turning to the known boy, "I'm sorry for my comments earlier but never disrespect me in my own house."

"Goodnight Alex, Matt, and Cole. Fuck you, Jack." And with that the girl was already gone and up the stairs. Trevor watched as she walked up the stairs.

"What's up with her? She's usually nice." Matt asked as Jack went to change the tv.

"She's probably got a stick up her ass." Jack answered.

"I like it." Trevor said with a goofy smile on his face.

"Good luck with that, Trev. Jack never lets her date any of his teammates plus it looks like she already doesn't like you." Alex said pulling his phone out.

"I love a challenge." Trevor shrugged looking to Jack who rolled his eyes, "Come on, Jack. Let me be the exception."

"What? No. Plus she hates you and doesn't even know your name." Jack explained as he continued to flip through movies.

"How do you know she hates me?" Trevor exclaimed sitting up from his seat.

"She only apologizes after saying something to tell somaeone off if she dislikes you." Cole clarified with a shrug.

"Come on, man. Give me your blessing, Hughesy." Trevor got on his knees in front of the blond.

"Fine, Zegrase. If she falls for you than you have my blessing to date her." Jack shook his head before clicking play on Fast and Furious.

"Yes!" Trevor said pumping his fist in the air.

"Can't believe he just gave a TEAMMATE permission to date his sister." Cole said to Alex.

"That's cause she's not gonna fall for him. They're too different." Jack said as Trevor was doing a happy dance.

God, did Jack hope he was right.

But you was sneaking out your window everynight riding shotgun in my car / We go to the river and find us a spot and we probably went a little too far

Two Weeks Later

"Come on, Y/N/N. One chance! Please!" Trevor begged as Y/n shut her locker.

"No, Trevor." In the last two weeks, she learned his name and was constantly dodging his attempts to get with her. She knew his reputation.

"Please. I'm begging!" He said following her as she walked to her next class.

"Ugh! Fine! One date! That's it. One chance. Don't screw it up." She said before walking into her class. His smile widened as he walked to his class that he shared with Alex.

"What's got you so smiley?" Before Trevor could answer honestly, he received a text.

From: Y/N/N 💓

don't tell anyone. if we're doing this, we're doing it secretly.

"Oh, nothing." He said before replying.

To: Y/N/N💓

whatever you want, doll😉

From: Y/N/N💓

never use that emoji again.

He smiled as he put his phone in his pocket.

From: Trevor Zegras🫤

i'm outside

Y/n took a small breath before climbing out of her window.

She walked down the street to where she told Trevor to park. She wished she brought a jacket as it was cold. She saw Trevor sitting in his car looking at his phone.

He smiled when he saw her walk up to his car.

"Hey." She said getting into the car.

"Hi." He said with a giddy grin.

"Where are we going?" She asked putting her seat belt on.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." He said pulling out from his parking spot.

"Can I play some music?" She asked reaching for the aux cord. Trevor nodded. She played her shared playlist that she had with her brothers thinking Trevor would like some of the songs but of course the first one to play was Taylor Swift's Speak Now.

"Oh my god." Trevor exclaimed as Y/n's eye widened with worry thinking he didn't like the song, "I love Taylor Swift."

Trevor reached to turn the song up and sang along. Y/n watched with a smile. Maybe going on this date with him wouldn't be too bad.

The two continued to sing along to the songs before reaching their destination.

"The Lake?" She questioned looking at the lake in front of her.

"I thought we could have a picnic." He said reaching into his backseat for the basket and blanket.

"And here's this." He added handing her one of his USA hoodies. "You looked cold."

She took the jacket with a smile before putting it on.

"Thanks." The two got out of the car.

Y/n slipped her hand into Trevors making his smile widen as a blush overtook her cheeks.

The two found a spot and ate the snacks that Trevor had packed. The two found themselves getting lost in conversation.

"Thanks for this." Trevor said looking at the girl.

"For what? You're the one who planned everything." She said tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"For saying yes." He said making the girl blush.

"I'm sorry for being so mean to you." She said scooting closer to him.

"It's ok. I was also a bit annoying." He said as the two leaned in.

"It's a bit annoying that you haven't kissed me yet." She said before slamming her lips on his. A simple kissed turned into a make-out which led to more.

By the time Y/n snuck back into her room, it was time for her to get back up for volleyball practice but she didn't even care how tired she was. She was more focused on what was to come with the boy.



Cause I was gonna be your forever / You were gonna be my wife // But I was what you wanted you were what I needed / And we could meet in between / We were gonna be the greatest love story this town had ever seen

Thanksgiving Day 2017

"We need to tell Jack." Trevor said to the girl as she walked back into her room. He was laying on her bed.

"Are you sure?" She said plopping next to him.

"Positive." He said pulling her close to him.

The two sat in silence until she broke it, "You're gonna be my forever"

"And you're gonna be my wife." He replied.

"So you're for real about telling Jack." Trevor nodded and Y/n sat up.

"Let's tell him tomorrow, then. Quinn comes home tonight so then if Jack tries to kill you, Quinn will be there to stop him." She said making her laugh.

"He actually said I had his blessing." Trevor said with a smile.

"Did he really?" She asked with her brows furrowed.

"Yeah. That night I met you. I knew you would be mine." Trevor said pulling her back down next to him.

"We are gonna be the greatest love story this town has ever seen" He said kissing her temple.

So you went off to college and I got a job I was working that 9 to 5

The Draft Day ended up coming faster than the two had thought. The two had been avoiding the question of what would happen when Trevor gets drafted to Anaheim.

Y/n had been accepted to UMich and Trevor was gonna play for Boston before going to the Ducks.

Y/n sat next to Jack while Trevor sat a couple rows back. Y/n was a wear a simple black dress with heels and her hair was pinned back in a half up half down look.

She turned in her sear and sent Trevor a smile as the ceremony started.

As expected, Jack went first overall to the New Jersey Devils. He hugged his twin as soon as his name was called.

Then came the moment that the couple was dreading, Trevor Zegras went 9th overall for the Ducks. As Trevor came down the stairs, Y/n met him and took his jacket as well as gave him a hug.

"We'll talk later." He whispered in her ear and she nodded as he made his way to the stage.

Screaming for the days when you were coming back, no couldn't come to soon

The two called it quits the next day. Trevor was playing for Anaheim and Y/n was studying to become a nurse in Michigan.

The two both knew it had to happen so it was mutual but that didn't mean it didn't hurt the two any less.

They partied that night as if everything was gonna be okay.

They knew fate would bring them back together because both of them knew they were gonna be the greatest love story the world has ever seen.