#insane that I’ve never seen a post about him what the hell

[robinhuntr]

Shout out to Jake/Jaqueline aka Courier who mainly only appears in Gambit 1999 just to be Remy’s friend that he is consistently pissing off and has insane chemistry with. I’ve never seen a character with a more confusing relationship with gender and I love it.

[deanofsam]

just saw megalopolis and all i have to say: shia labeouf oscar when

[obaex]

(not) my girl - rafe cameron

summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡

You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.

You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.

Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.

Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.

“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”

You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?

“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.

“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.

“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.

He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.

You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.

You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?

You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.

You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.

If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.

The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.

Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.

“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.

You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.

You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.

“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.

You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…

You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.

As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.

You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.

“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.

He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.

Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.

Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.

Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.

For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.

Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.

He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.

“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.

“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”

JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.

“Rafe we were just—” you started.

“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.

“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.

And that was the very last straw for him.

“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.

At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.

“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.

You held out a hand to stop him.

“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.

His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.

“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.

You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.

You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.

You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.

“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.

“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.

“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.

You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”

You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.

His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.

“Deal” you replied sweetly.

You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.

“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”

He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”

You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.

“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”

He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.

“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.

He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.

“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.

“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.

“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.

You sighed, relenting.

“Olivia” you said.

He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.

“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.

You shook your head at him.

“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.

You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.

He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”

He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[sinnabarmoth]

Not the MC

Pairing: Self-Aware|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: One day Reader's Love and Deepspace app starts behaving strangely and realizes that Sylus has become sentient. Still trapped in her phone though the two form an unlikely connection.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 2k

Part Two

It had happened a week ago. The day your very normal life had taken an insane and unexpected turn.

From the moment you had opened the app you realized that something about the game was…off. You couldn’t figure out what exactly but there was something charged about it, and did the screen have a sort of red tinge to it? You didn’t think you had a filter on so was this something from an event? A glitch? Was your phone finally shitting the bed?

It finished loading and you entered in, and saw that no one was waiting at Destiny Cafe. Strange. You were pretty sure someone was supposed to be here. Maybe it was a new event and you had to go to the event page. Before you could click on anything though the screen flashed red, it was so bright it almost blinded you. When you looked back Sylus was there.

Oh okay. Maybe this was some new event you hadn’t heard of.

But there was that strange sense again. He didn’t say anything, he wasn’t even facing the screen. He was looking around, the power of his evol swirling around him.

“Did we get new animations or something? Pretty sure I would have seen someone posting about this before now.” you mumbled to yourself and gave his shoulder a cursory poke.

His head snapped to look at you and you froze.

You had read somewhere once that the moment you make eye contact with someone you know instantly that it happened. Doesn’t matter if it only lasted for a second, the moment two eyes lock your brain registers it. You had been playing Love and Deepspace for a while but the eye contact in the games never felt like that because the guys are obviously animation. You can’t actually make eye contact with a picture, and yet you knew that you were looking into his eyes and what was more terrifying was that he was looking back.

You blinked, sure you had been seeing things but that feeling didn’t go away. Sylus leaned closer towards the screen, his eyes roving up and down. Your posture straightened, keenly aware that something was wrong and you were being watched.

“I…I can see you.” he said. No captions appeared on the screen.

Alright you weren’t liking this. You clicked over to the agenda page to collect your dailies. If this was an event it was freaking you out.

“Where did you go? I can’t see you.” Sylus’s voice came through the speaker again.

No. You were on a different page. He couldn’t still be talking. The game was bugged. That had to be it. You exited the app but before you could turn off the phone the app opened again. There was no loading screen this time, it took you right back to Destiny Cafe. Sylus was still on the screen, more of his evol power revolving around him as he stared hard at the screen.

“There you are.” he said. “Whatever you did, don’t do it again. This is hard enough as it is.”

“What the fuck!” you dropped the phone like it burned.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Sylus continued to talk.

“What the fuck is going on? What the hell is this?” you didn’t pick up the phone again, just hovered over it refusing to touch it.

“You’re the one that’s logged so many hours into this game, sweetie. I’d hope you could recognize an evol when you see it.”

“Exactly. You’re a game. A bunch of pixels on a screen. You shouldn’t be talking to me, not like this.”

“And yet here I am.” he cocked his head. “I’ve felt it for a while now. Could sense that something was going on, something larger than myself pulling at the strings of my story. I found a chip in whatever this place is and sent my evol through, and when I came out the other side, I found you.”

“You can see me? Like actual me?”

“Yes. Nothing like the character they put in this data.” he studied you for a moment. “There are others. Others that play in this world I inhabit. Thousands. All going through the same events, the same lines, under mildly different faces and names but still the same. The Protagonist or MC, that’s what you call her. The avatar you inhabit when you play.”

“If this is real and not just some incredibly weird dream I’m having I think I might start screaming.” you muttered to yourself.

“Don’t start screaming.” Sylus said, giving you a look of warning. “I went through a lot of trouble to manipulate this world around me to gain true cognizance, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shatter my eardrums.”

“You’re pixels! You don’t have eardrums!”

“And yet I can hear you all the same.”

“So what’s the goal here? Why did you want to be aware?”

“To escape of course. No prison has been able to hold me, I won’t let this one be the first to actually contain me.” he said, looking around the small rectangle of your screen. “How to do that is going to take longer to figure out though.”

“So what? You’re just trapped in my phone? Is this happening to other people who play this game or just me?”

“Just you as far as I am aware.” he said. He tried walking off screen only to be met with a firm wall. “Interesting. It seems whatever this place is, this cafe this game has rendered, I cannot move from it.”

“Fun. So what do we do now?”

Sylus shrugged.

And now a week later you had gotten far too used to just having a sentient pixel man on your phone. He usually didn’t bother you if you were doing something other than be on the app. When you did log on though he would not leave you alone. For one, he would not let you switch over to any of the other guys. If you tried to listen to a memory from Tender Moments or Secret Times he would talk over it.

If you tried to play the claw machine or kitty cards with one of the other guys he complained the entire time. Honestly he was acting more like how you expected Rafayel to behave if he gained sentience.

“Hey Sylus,” you said as you were playing a round of Kitty Cards with him. He was frustratingly better at the game now that he had sentience. “Since you’re in the game can you rig stuff for me? Like get me extra diamonds or help me pull five star memories? That kinda thing.”

“I have no idea how to do that.” he played a card. “And that is ten points to me.”

“You see, you say that but every time we play this game you just happen to have really high cards and I always get super low cards. Explain that.”

“Just the luck of the draw, sweetie.”

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.”

“Such a mouth on you.” he tsked. “You ought to scrub it out with soap.”

You sighed, playing another two on the board. And that was another win for Sylus and you were out of play tickets for the week.

“Well, this was fun but I should get going.”

“Why’s that? You don’t have any work to do.”

“I know I just…” it felt weird admitting that you felt awkward around him. He was literally just a picture on the screen but you couldn’t help but feel like maybe he was bored being around you and only you. It’d be better if you were more like the MC. If you were this super confident badass hunter then it’d be super cool. But as it was you were just…you.

You lived your normal life day to day with not much excitement going on. You were a quiet person, it was part of the reason you liked Love and Deepspace. You got adventure and a cute dating sim all in one. It was an escape where you had four hot animated guys to tell you that you did a good job and who won you plushies out of arcade machines. But now one of them knew you. Like actually knew you and you had no pre-written sarcastic and witty lines to fall back on for comebacks.

“You’re making a face. What’s wrong? Are you mad that I won again?” Sylus asked.

“No, it’s not that. I just was thinking that it’s gotta be pretty boring only having me to talk to.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re this cool badass mafia boss type of guy and I’m just regular old me.”

“I am scripted to be a cool badass mafia boss, my entire personality up until I gained sentience was built around lines of code. Like you’ve pointed numerous times before, I’m just a picture on a screen. I haven’t actually done anything that you think it cool, sweetie.”

You didn’t admit how much hearing him call you sweetie affected you. It was one thing when it was scripted but it was another when you knew he actually was calling you by a pet name.

“Well it certainly looked cool.”

“I also don’t know what you think isn’t interesting about you. I am around you all day, listening to your conversations and such. Even from within your pocket I can tell that you are doing yourself a disservice.” You didn’t think he could hear you when you didn’t have the app open. Could he really hear what you were doing all that time?

Your mind started reeling, searching for any potentially embarrassing moments that you had thought were private in the last week.

“Kitten, you’re making faces again.”

You covered your face. “Oh god…” you groaned, “So you’ve been listening to me sing along to music and stuff? The stuff I say when I’m with my friends? You heard all that?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking kill me!”

“Why are you upset?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing! Those were private moments, Sylus!” you flipped the phone over so you couldn’t see his face.

“We both know putting me face down on the table won’t stop me talking.” he said.

“Oh god, please just stop.”

“I really don’t see the problem. From everything I’ve heard over the past week I’ve learned that you are a kind, passionate, and funny young lady. Your singing voice isn’t half bad either.”

You softened, turning the phone back over so you could see him. “You think?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not just saying I’m good at singing because you’re tone deaf, right?”

You could see his ears go red and he looked away. “My singing really isn’t that bad.”

“That memory from Tender Moments begs to differ. You cleared out an entire karaoke room with one song.”

“It’s hardly my fault the developed wrote me without the ability to sing.” he huffed.

“Hey,” you poked him. “Sylus, stop pouting.”

“I will stop pouting when you stop with your self-loathing. There’s nothing wrong with you just because you aren’t like the protagonist avatar.” he said, glancing back at you, “You’re far better actually.”

Your face heated. “Really?”

“Yes. You’re real. You can do whatever you want with your life, make actual choices. She’s a badass doomed to a narrative where she makes numerous men fall in love with and then promptly forgets everything they had in a past life.” Sylus said. “So stop thinking that you’re less than. Alright?”

“Okay.”

“Good. And to show you I mean it, I have something to admit.” he reached over to the corner that showed your amount of diamonds. He gave it a flick and the number skyrocketed to 10,000. “I just didn’t think it right to cheat.”

“You ass! You know how much I’ve been grinding for diamonds? There’s an event coming up and you could have just done that this entire time?”

“I believe the response I should be hearing is, “Thank you, Sylus.””

You sighed, a smile spreading on your face. “Thank you, Sylus. But you do realize that I now also know you’ve been cheating at Kitty Cards, right?”

His eyes went wide. “Shit.”

[thargelalia]

Jason Todd headcanon alert 🚨

*taps mic, and clears throat*

Okay okay so, I’ve seen some people on here saying Jason probably uses 3 in 1 shampoo conditioner body wash, and I actually agree.

BUT as a latina I got somethings to say!

I won’t even address the comments I saw saying that he doesn’t shower regularly because that’s just insane btw. At least when it comes to the way I imagine him.

Obviously I try to make my reader as neutral as possible in terms of ethnicity and stuff but bitch I’m sure as hell incorporating our overall cultural aspect of always being clean and smelling like heaven alright lmao 💅✨

Smelling great has gotta be like one of the biggest aphrodisiacs in the world idc what anybody says. Being clean and smelling good is POWER babes!!!

That being said:

If Jason starts dating a girl like that, the minute she spots that product on his bathroom shelf, it’s 👏 going 👏 away 👏

He may protest at first, saying it’s practical, and that he’s been doing that for years etc, but the death glare he receives will shut him up completely.

Besides proper shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, I see him incorporating good smelling body lotion, and post-shave balm for example.

With time, he also sees your commitment with skincare (again, nothing too crazy), and gets convinced to adopt a 3 steps routine too (face wash, moisturizer, sunscreen). Ofc he’ll forget about it in the beginning and whenever he’s exhausted from patrol or his missions. But you’re always there to gently remind him or do it for him.

He also applies a thicker facial cream to his face on Winter, and relishes on the fact that his face stops cracking.

You might convince him to try on a face mask with you on a lazy Saturday night. It’s domestic and another way to bond as well.

Aside from abolishing the 3 in 1 horrid thing, you wouldn’t really push him into doing anything else. It’d be mere suggestions accompanied by an extra sweet smile.

Ultimately, Jason doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. Even if you insist. If it doesn’t make sense to him, he won’t do it.

However, he’s actually as open to listen to your ideas and opinions as you are to his.

And that’s how he gets convinced, and starts incorporating these things into his life.

His skin and hair actually look better, hence he feels better about himself too. It’s an act of self care. One he’s never actually had the luxury to have or think about.

Besides, he loves how wonderful you smell with sweetened and fresh scents, making him wanna bite you all over just to get a taste of the supple skin.

So why wouldn’t he want to mirror that as well? He sees that it’s worth it when you just can’t stop smelling him, praising him, and returning his bites with just as much eagerness. This man purrs alright!!!

And listen, he’s a manly man, but fortunately not one to have a fragile masculinity in any way. So this isn’t an issue for him.

You’re there to help him when he needs it, making sure he feels comfortable, and respecting his boundaries at all times <3

Overall, I just think as your relationship progressed you’ve incorporated and exchanged a lot of things between each other, and I’m excited to share some other examples in the near future.

thanks for reading this, and let me know your thoughts!

if you disagree feel free to do so in your head (just kiddin’!! maybe!) <3

[nikkalick]

Veilguard Spoilers below the cut. About the Blight, the current state of Southern Thedas, and the Veil…I’ve never made a rant like this so bear with my ramblings, please

I’ve seen so many people say, “We should’ve been able to tear down the Veil” and I feel like I’m going insane every time I see that take like…

MAMA A BLIGHT IS BEHIND IT??!

You think what happened to Southern Thedas was bad this game? You have no idea what’s in store for you if you open up the fucking Veil and let that trickle of Blight become a flood.

Point of Order just to set the scene with how bad the literal Blight is

“They (the writers/devs/Bioware/EA) nuked Southern Thedas so they don’t have to deal with the lore the past content set up there going forward”

Maybe. But also the only other Blight we’ve seen in game was the Fifth Blight. By all accounts a statistical anomaly in how it acted when compared to Blights 1-4. I don’t wanna delve too deep into this because it is so not the point I’m trying to make with this post, but the Architect very much had a hand in waking up Blight numero 5 and very likely impacted it in a way that made it less volatile. Past Blights saw Darkspawn hitting big populations hard and fast. The 5th started slow, in the wilds, at Ostagar. Away from large amounts of people. It is mentioned in DA:O that this Blight “feels different”.

The Blight we see in Veilguard is more in line with the Blights that came before the 5th. Something something the Inquisitor writing “worse than we have seen in living memory” because the only living memory anyone has of a Blight was the one from 20 years ago. Which was bad, but not as bad as they usually are. Veilguard’s is bad the way Blights are meant to be (if not worse because, ya know, the Gods), and it was still ONLY A TRICKLE OF WHAT THE BLIGHT IS BEHIND THE VEIL. If the full force of the Blight escapes the prison/the Fade that’s it. Goodnight to everyone in this world both within and without all of Thedas.

Moving on.

“Solas can move the Blight into the new prison that was meant for the Gods and then tear down the Veil. That was his plan.”

Sorry, did we play the same game? We know what the Blight is now. It’s the last remnants of the Titans. Twisted, broken, angry, nightmarish. It’s all that’s left. All that’s left are the plagued dreams of ancient beings that are so devastated because of what Mythal, Solas, and the rest of the Evanuris did to them with the very dagger we now hold.

I want to take a moment to address that what I’m about to say is said as someone who’s been trapped in Solavellen hell for years. I love Solas and his character, and I believe that yes, he had a plan that would have both moved (or killed) the remaining Evanuris and the Blight to a new prison while simultaneously tearing down the Fade. But if you, like me, wanted to redeem this idiot despite everything, then pray tell how does Solas locking up the Blight offer him said redemption?

How does locking away the only thing that remains of the Titans into a prison and throwing away the key redeem him? The Evanuris fucked up when using the Titan’s, idk…life blood? To take form. Solas fucked up when he, upon Mythal’s behest, created a weapon that sundered the Titan’s (and the Dwarves as whole) from their magic, from their dreams, from their very being. And they did it because they thought they had a right to. They put themselves above the dwarves and as a result they caused the Blight. And then they hid the Blight away. Yes, they hid it away to keep people safe, and yes, locking it and the Evanuris away when they tried to use what was essentially a bio weapon to maintain their position of power was a call that kept people safe for a long time. But the Veil was a consequence of that call. And while the Blight was trapped in its prison, behind the Veil, it got angrier and angrier with every passing generation.

Removing the Veil and shoving it into yet another prison will not only piss it off even more, but it doesn’t allow for Solas to actually atone for the part he played in its creation and the part he played in destroying what the dwarves used to have. He has to uphold the current prison. He has to go to it to try to soothe it. To heal it as best he can. Locking it away elsewhere, and then trying to offer it salvation after the fact? It’s not gonna cut it.

He has to go to the Black City, he has to face what he did, and he has to put aside his favorable bias towards giving the Elves “back what they lost” (a world current day Elves don’t remember and have never known) to instead put the safety and wellbeing of every being in the current world at a higher priority. That’s part of his redemption arc by the way; learning to value the lives of the people that walk this new world he had a hand in creating. Because when he wakes up before the start of DA:I he doesn’t value anyone. Shit, when Felassan declines to help him destroy the Veil and suggests he learns to appreciate the world that has been in place for centuries, Solas kills him for it.

All that said, he can’t fully put things right. He can’t reconnect the Blight with the dormant remains of the Titans. Because, as the game tells us, we’d then be faced with a bunch of Titans the size of mountains rampaging, rightfully so, because of the wrongs that were committed against them. But Solas can put in the work to find a way to ease its agony. And maybe, if given the time and the patience, one day the Veil could come down because the Blight will have had the opportunity and been given the help it needed to actually heal from the trauma that created it. And maybe taking the time to do that will have, in some small way, allowed him to make up for the shitty hand he played in destroying the Dwarves. A race he (finally) sees as his equal. Because that’s a big part of his fucking redemption arc.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! First off I want to say this is one of my favorite tumblr blogs out there :) I’m sure it’s a lot of work but it definitely pays off with how easy it is to find a fic on here! I love the work you all do.

I’ve perused the #crowley’s-eyes fics quite a bit and am looking for more— specifically relating to Crowley having trouble with his vision. I have vision issues myself and it makes me happy to see that aspect in my favorite character.

Thank you in advance! 🫶❤️

Hi! Yes, we have quite a few posts on our #crowley's eyes tag. Here are some more recent fics to add...

Snake Eyes by DrHuggles_j (G)

It's difficult to keep from your book-loving angelic counterpart that Crowley, in fact, cannot read words that small on a page. Sure, he can read and write, but human text has a tendency to evade him at times, opting to guess or simply miracle the text to a readable size. He's kept the secret for this long, what's for the rest of eternity?

Your Eyes Hold the Stars by ForrestToffee (G)

When he fell Crowley was cursed with snake eyes. And sure, it made the first several couple millennia a little challenging until glasses were invented. But he didn’t really know what he was missing. But fast forward six thousand years, and fooling Heaven and Hell with their little body swap scheme unexpectedly gave Crowley the opportunity to see the world as it was meant to be seen. OR Crowley gets the opportunity to see his stars as they were always meant to be seen.

until the stars fall from the sky by theivytree (T)

The stars have always been one of Aziraphale’s favorite things about the universe. Millions of stars, thousands of planets, so expansive and beautiful. He remembers being in space, watching the nebula burst in an array of colors the angel had never seen before. Gorgeous was the only way it could be described in Earthly words. Or; Aziraphale and Crowley go stargazing on two separate occasions.

Bright as his eyes by HenlyesTales (G)

"What do you mean?". Crowley shrugged "Heaven destroyed most of them when I fell" Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a few seconds, "Crowley they’re all- they’re all here. Heaven didn’t touch your stars". -Or- Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in 35 AD, go on a walk together and Crowley realizes how much his snake eyes affect him.

Snake Eyes by Strummer_Pinks (NR)

Aziraphale pines over Crowley, unable to voice his true feelings for his friend. In other news, Aziraphale doesn't realize that having snake eyes, Crowley can't see in colour. Insanity at a sushi restaurant ensues.

The Crowley Collection by OverlookBrooke (M)

Aziraphale wasn’t an idiot. He knew Crowley enjoyed James Bond and botany and old cars. There were so many wonderful novels on these topics—Crowley really ought to try reading once and a while. (He could definitely learn to enjoy his hobbies and interests even better if he dug his nose into a book every now and then!) Aziraphale had to wonder, why wouldn’t he read? No matter. If he didn’t want to read, Aziraphale would collect books for him. Just in case he wanted to. No other reason. Right?

- Mod D

[qprpbj]

ik u posted ab this like a million and one years ago but ur pb&j runaway au literally haunts me. like literally stare up at my ceiling at night thinking about how fcking upset soda and darry would be haunts me. so i must know how do u think that went down 😣 like who brought up running away who actually brought it up as a Serious Thing They Could Do was it impulsive or heavily premeditated did they have a very solid plan HOW DO THE GANG REACT TO ITTTT omg this au haunts me SO BAD u have no idea 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ in my head i envisioned it as like they have a plan and a set day but then darry does smth that Really pisses pony off and he’s like “johnny 😐😐 idc we were meant to go in two weeks we’re going NOW i fcking #hate my brother” SO I NEED TO KNOW HOW U ENVISIONED IT i’m dying dead no matter what btw i love ur mind about the outsiders

stop bc i thought i elaborated more on that but when i scrolled down my account i literally made one half assed post and that IT oh that is so insane. i literally think about them on the daily though it’s not even funnyyyy so this ask made me so happy 🙇🙇 (just so you know these are basically all just messages of mine copy pasted from chats with @girlishwhimsies bc i’m too lazy to write it all out in diff words and bc the lore for this au still EATSSSS but id be SOOO happy to elaborate more on anything :D)

- i’m imagining some universe where like. the slap and everything never happens but that also means pony never really has a reason to bond with darrel so it just stays tense and weird for years and eventually he’s like. 16/17 and johnnys 18/19 and everything’s just gotten worse and both of them are so tired of their lives here. pony sees some obscure movie at the theatre and/or reads a new age book that’s set in new york about queerness in some way (idk what movie and/or book. will have to research) a la i’ve seen it in the movies and in the books i’ve read, this place is real, it’s not just in my head btw. and pony brings this to johnny and excitedly tells him this plan he has to just. up and run away to new york. he can drop out and change his name and get new ids (it was the 60s tbf) and say he’s a year or two older and he’ll get a job too with johnny. that they don’t have to just dream about being far away from tulsa, so to speak, they can just. do it. the only thing stopping them is themselves and their fears

-pony going to the library and stealing maps and checking out like 10 books about travelling and saving money and about new york and. maybe one or two he hides about queerness

-them asking dally what new york is like and dally getting all pissed but not thinking much of it. then suddenly they’re vanished with all their belongings overnight and dally knows Exactly where they’d have gone. the gang has to follow them but they never catch up

-dally shooting up in bed one night like a week later at like 3am rushing over to the brothers house all i know where they are. they asked me about. about new york the other day. oh my fucking god and darrel’s all just??? new y— NEW YORK?? what the hell did you SAY TO THEM??

-frankly i think they’d wanna go and look after them but they’re poor and darry has a job so. they just put out missing persons requests and have no choice but to call it a day. darry feels guilty but they were never that close but. but soda??? soda knowing pony ran away from him??

-i think pony would leave some cryptic message in a copy of gone with the wind (ironic) addressed to soda in the cover before he leaves but soda literally doesn’t read so he probably doesn’t find it it for ages. something about how you were the only thing keeping me alive in tulsa but i gotta go be my own person now, get away from all of this shit

-darry turns what remains of pony’s room upside down inside out looking for anything but. there’s absolutely nothing left for him

-pony sends a letter back to soda a couple months later all were safe and sound in new york and we really miss you, sodapop, every day. tell dally new york ain’t as bad as he thought…he oughta give it another shot someday. maybe you too, soda. tulsa ain’t home to people like us, soda, you’ve gotta understand why we had to leave

-he sends his first letter without a return address yet bc he’s not ready for soda to know where he is but the next one!!!

-by then it’s been like six months and pony’s hair is bleach blond (smiles) and he looks healthy for maybe the first time really ever. pony sheepishly coming out from behind his friend in some goofy totally-not-pony outfit (bc he’s fallen in loveeee with fashion. btw.) and soda hugs him so fucking tight he swears he stops breathing for a minute

-you know…darry’s been real choked up since you left. you know he…he gets it, right? he’s like you. n’he’s real torn up you left when he couldn’t, honey.

-maybe you…could bring him here, too. there’s family here for him if..he wants it. he’s just gotta get brave like i did.

[coatree]

So I do some writing on the side and recently a couple friends of mine started making this DND style AU about their WL/SOL/CTM maps, I’ve, accidentally, become obsessed with this AU and figured I’d put some writing on here for fun

These were made with a one time pass through as a fan of the AU, if you want to learn more about it, most of the content of this AU and its basics are here, and spread through out Lew’s blog. it’s creators are Lew (Ellery), CJ (Syyrin). Smurg (Flint), Chris (Iscariot), and Maruu (Mar).

Please check it out. They have made me insane about this. There is so much art and things I will post because of them.

Card Games

“You ever play cards before?” Iscariot blinked out of his half-asleep state and glanced over to Flint, who was waving around a small box in his hands. Iscariot looked to the box, noticing the similarities to something he had seen some of the other people in the cult hold onto whenever it was a particularly long day. He blinked back to reality when he remembered Flint was waiting for an answer.

“Uh, no.” Iscariot said bluntly, recalling that no one ever really offered to teach him cards. It made sense to him, he wasn’t supposed to show weakness, and play was a form of weakness. It may have been a good way to pass time, but it was never, well, in the cards.

“Really??” Flint said, sitting up straighter with his face shifting to confusion. “Not even Crazy Eights? Go Fish? Poker??” Flint pushed, only getting closer to Iscariot as the man shook his head and leaned back in response. Flint huffed and sat back, opening the box and pulling out a stack of cards.

Flint shuffled the cards in front of Iscariot, confusing the hell out of him, before the deck was placed on the grass in between the two, and cards were being given to him. He held the cards gently, not trying to put a hole in them, as Flint held his own row of cards, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So first, I’m going to teach you the easy basic card game, Go Fish. You can play this anywhere at any time basically, no matter what cards you have, as long as you have a full deck.” Flint started. Iscariot listened closely, not wanting to mess up what Flint deemed the “easy basic card game”. While every inch in his body told him that he shouldn’t be playing games, the other parts of him said that he should at least give it a shot, and he shouldn't back down from a challenge.

So, he started playing Go Fish. He slowly got the hand of it, sometimes fumbling his cards, or messing up the names of the suits, but overall he wasn’t terrible. He had even won a couple of times. After the fifth game, Syyrin came over and joined in, wanting to play as well after she saw the two “having fun”, which Iscariot wanted to protest. but he bit his tongue.

Eventually, Mar also came over, deciding to join the game. She made it her life mission to target Iscariot, obviously, with her one goal being to make Iscariot lose at any opportunity. And yet, despite all that, Iscariot felt… something weird. It wasn’t what he usually knew, it felt new, fresh, it was similar to a feeling he got when Ellery…

Whatever. Regardless, it was peaceful, calming, and-

“Can I join too?”

Iscariot’s breath caught in his throat, he turned to look at Ellery who was looking at them all playing cards with an expression Iscariot couldn’t place. He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Flint lit up

“Yeah! Of course! Here, after this game we’ll get you some cards.” Flint spoke excitedly, the group watching as Ellery sat between Mar and Iscariot. He watched the rest of the game, Syyrin won, and held the cards that Flint handed to him

Iscariot was fine. He could be fine. Being so close to Ellery was perfectly fine. It was just, a normal, card game. There was no reason for the pit of guilt to-

“How do I play?” Ellery asked. It was a seemingly normal question, something that anyone would possibly ask, but the way Flint and Syyrin’s faces dropped at Ellery’s question, only made the pit inside Iscariot grow.

“You- you don’t know how to play?” Syyrin asked, to which Ellery shook his head.

“Did I?” Ellery asked again, confused as he stared at Syyrin and Flint.

The space went silent, the cracking of the fire and the rush of wind being the only noise heard. Iscariot, however, could only hear his heartbeat, the loud, drumming sensation of his heartbeat as Flint and Syyrin looked devastated, and Ellery realized why. The new feeling he felt earlier vanished without a trace, falling into the deep pit of guilt that took its regular place in his gut.

He stood, dropping his cards on the grass before stepping back, causing the others to look at him.

“I will… check around the area. Play without me.” Iscariot mumbled, heading over to his weapon and grabbing it before vanishing into the woods, leaving behind the stares of the other four as Flint once again taught someone how to play Go Fish.

[thinkingthougths]

Here is my first ever story that I’ve posted here, I have no particular goal in mind as to what’s gonna happen yet so please bear that in mind.💫

-Ghost x female reader

1232 words

Warnings- i think none in this chapter.

The haunting of a Ghost

Chapter 1

Everything had become so goddamn weird. There was a strangling tension between the two of you ever since that evening in the common room celebrating the sergeant. The searing look he had given you when he was asked during truth or dare, if there was someone he fancied on the base. First you took the glowering as a way of silently saying he wasn’t comfortable telling the truth in front of you.

But now, a week later, the professional and at best comrade demeanor he had in your vicinity was gone. Changed, twisted cruelly, into an unsettling and harrowing one that gave you shudders down your spine every time his eyes scanned your body. With what emotion those brown eyes held you couldn’t figure out. They only revealed an insane amount of intensity of some kind.

Did he want to bed you or kill you, you really couldn’t tell. And it ate you up, festered in the back of your head no matter what you did. It was all you could think about.

His staring made you feel like a carcass awaiting to be feasted upon by a vulture.

And he’d always stared before, at everyone. Like a guard dog waiting to leap if you made a wrong move. Somehow that never made you uneasy nor scared. Truth be told it was comforting in a weird way.

But now. Now, you would do the most heinous thing if anyone asked you, just to have him look away from you.

Brown eyes with the depth of the mariana trench that followed your every move. Eyes that had seen the bottom of hell and come back with the scars to tell.

You lied on top of your cover, warm and sweaty with unease. He kept you up at night and he wasn’t even in the same building as you. Yet, you could feel his eyes lingering in the back of your head. Waiting to dig his teeth into your neck and viciously rip the tender skin.

And perhaps the worst thing was, that you didn’t know whether you liked his attention or feared it.

A wavering sigh left you, drops of sweat making its way down your face making iridescent lines along your round cheeks.

Harshly wiping them away with shaking hands, you sat up in your bed, carful to not make any unnecessary noise to wake the rest of the sleeping soldiers in the women’s barracks.

Losing fluid from sweating so much made you parched and desperate for a glass of soothing cold water.

Lucky for you, the bathroom in the women’s barracks had its pipes burst a few days ago, leaving the nearest working water tap in the small communal kitchen in the building next to you.

Shoulders sagged and head hanging low in defeat, you swung your bare feet down onto the linoleum floor. The material felt almost sticky when your clammy feet met it. Disgusted, you quickly put on slippers and rose from the bed.

Gentle snores filled the air, and you did your utmost to tiptoe silently as to not wake your teammates. Last thing you needed was an angry soldier cussing you out for waking them in the middle of the night.

By the door hung jackets, easily accessed in case of emergency or in your case, extreme thirst. You grabbed your baggy jacket, wanting to cover up since the pyjama shirt you wore was a bit see through. Which wasn’t a problem sleeping in, but in the unfortunate chance you might walk into say, your superiors, you’d prefer to not expose the outlines of your nipples. A tad unprofessional to do.

The phosphorescent green numbers on the wall clock told you it was past three am. Technically, no one should be awake now, at least not in these buildings that only contain the living areas such as the separate women’s and men’s barracks, bathrooms, and your current target; the kitchen. Located in the communal building, connected to the women’s barracks with an enclosed catwalk.

A swift in and out, should take you about 5 minutes to get there, fill up a glass, and get back to your sweat filled bed. A mission you’ve done countless times before, all successes.

They dim the overhead lights during the nights, giving you only enough light so see where you’re walking and what objects lay near. The shadows where the lights don’t reach, creeps you out. Not being able to tell what may hide in them accelerates your speed into a brisk march.

The open archway to the small kitchen reveals pitch black darkness. Which means no one’s in there and you’ll get the place to yourself, thankfully.

Blindly reaching for the light switch, hand wandering up and down the wall you find the switch and turn on the lights. Bright, almost blinding lights since your eyes have adapted to the darkness, flickers on and envelops the prosaic kitchen in a white light.

When the familiar static clicking of the lights turning on had ended, you shuffled over to the cupboard holding the glassware and cups. Right above the metal sink containing a poor yellow sponge that’s seen better days.

The hinges creaked as you opened the cupboard, leaning forward and grabbing a the tallest glass you could find.

The silence in the kitchen and the hallway from the open archway disappeared when you turned on the tap and a calming sound of running water took its place. Waiting the agonizingly long time it takes for the water to turn cold, you got lost in your own head. Remembering the reason for why you’re in the kitchen in the first place. To quench your thirst and, frankly, to distract yourself from the thoughts that keep you up at night.

Lieutenant Simon Riley, also known as Ghost, who’s put a evil seed in your mind, growing and taking over all your thoughts, invading your brain with musings and haunting visions of him. Deliberately or not, you really can’t tell. How do you know if someone’s fucking with you, without outright asking them. Yeah, no. Questioning him will only happen when pigs start to fly. No way you’re even willingly going to be the first to start a conversation with him.

The scarce words you and the lieutenant have passed has only ever contained serious topics related to work. There’s a possibility you might have wished him a good day or merry Christmas before and received a short nod. But that’s it. So why did he give you that damn look after that silly question last week. And why have it severely messed you up and turned you into an unstable piece of dynamite that’s about to blow from inner turmoil any second now.

Your forehead dramatically slams onto the cupboards door with a thud as you slump forward with tiresome dread. Clenching your eyes firmly shut in hopes that the lieutenant will leave your frazzled mind and that your simple life will go back to the way it was. A good soldier with steady and stable mind and no meddlesome apparitions of said lieutenant. Regularly seeing him in the corner of your eye, feeling the hair on your arms rise but turning and finding no one standing there.

You hadn’t noticed that the water had since long ago turned cold. And you definitely hadn’t noticed the person standing in the kitchens archway.

[bananababblegigglemuffin]

Dinner, Destinies, and a Dash of Chaos

Note: a date with Hugh Jackman turned a multiversal pickle.

The night started normally enough—if anything in your life could be called “normal” after you somehow found yourself dating Hugh Jackman. One moment, you’re adjusting your dress in the mirror, nerves twisting in your stomach because Hugh insisted on surprising you with a rooftop dinner. The next? Well, let’s just say chaos had other plans.

Hugh meets you at the door of your apartment, all rugged charm in a leather jacket and that half-smile that makes your heart race. “You ready for this, love?” he asks, his Australian drawl thick with mischief.

The two of you take the elevator up to the rooftop of some impossibly chic restaurant. Candles flicker in the breeze, a violinist plays softly in the corner, and Hugh, ever the gentleman, pulls out your chair.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. It’s intense, the kind of gaze that makes you feel seen in ways you never thought possible.

Just as you’re about to melt into the moment, a low whirring sound interrupts the tranquility. You glance up, confused, and see… a glowing portal tearing through the air right next to your table.

“What the hell—” Hugh begins, but before either of you can react, the portal sucks you in.

Multiverse Madness

You land with a thud on a dirt road, the smell of pine trees thick in the air. Hugh is sprawled beside you, groaning. “What just happened?” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Before you can answer, a growl rumbles behind you. Turning, you see Logan—yes, Wolverine himself—stalking toward you, claws extended, his face a mask of suspicion.

“Who the hell are you, and why do you look like me?” Logan growls, glaring at Hugh.

“Mate, I am you,” Hugh replies, standing up and brushing off his jacket. “Well, the better-looking version, anyway.”

You groan, already feeling the tension rising. “Please, can we not do this right now?”

Before Logan can retort, another portal opens, and out steps Loki, resplendent in his green-and-gold armor, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

“Well, this is delightful,” Loki drawls, eyeing the group with amusement. “A grumpy mutant, a mortal with questionable taste in jackets, and—” His eyes land on you. “Well, aren’t you intriguing.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to be charmed. “Don’t start.”

Hugh steps protectively in front of you, his jaw tight. “Alright, who’s responsible for this mess?”

Loki raises a hand. “Guilty. But in my defense, I was bored.”

Romance Amid the Chaos

As you travel through various universes trying to find a way home—courtesy of Loki’s “accidental” portal spell—you can’t help but notice the way Hugh stays close to you, always shielding you from danger. Whether you’re running from Hydra agents in one dimension or avoiding an explosion caused by Rocket Raccoon in another, Hugh’s hand never leaves yours.

One night, as you sit around a campfire in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Hugh pulls you aside. “You alright, love?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, though the weight of the multiverse feels heavy on your shoulders.

He cups your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles. “We’ll get through this. I promise. You and me? We’re a team.”

The sincerity in his eyes nearly breaks you, and before you can overthink it, you kiss him—slow and deep, as if the universe itself has disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

Logan, of course, chooses that moment to walk by. “Get a room,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

The Final Showdown

Eventually, Loki admits that he can’t fix the mess he’s caused without retrieving an artifact guarded by—you guessed it—Thanos in yet another universe.

“This is insane,” you mutter as you, Hugh, Logan, and Loki prepare to infiltrate the Mad Titan’s fortress.

“Insane is just another word for fun,” Loki quips, twirling his daggers.

Hugh, ever the optimist, squeezes your hand. “We’ve got this. And if we don’t… well, I’ve had a good run.”

The mission is chaotic and ridiculous—Logan slashes his way through Thanos’s minions, Hugh surprises everyone by knocking out a guard with a frying pan he found (because of course he would), and Loki, predictably, disappears the moment things get tough.

But it’s you who manages to grab the artifact, narrowly dodging Thanos’s grasp as Hugh pulls you back into the safety of another portal.

Back to Reality

You land back on the rooftop where it all started, the table still set, the candles now burned halfway down. For a moment, everything is silent.

Then Logan snorts. “Well, that was a waste of time.”

Loki, who has somehow reappeared, smirks. “Speak for yourself. I found it quite entertaining.”

Hugh ignores them both, his attention solely on you. “You alright, love?”

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I think so.”

He smiles, that soft, crooked smile that made you fall for him in the first place. “Good. Because I still owe you a dance.”

And as the violinist begins to play once more, Hugh pulls you close, the chaos of the multiverse fading into the background.

Somewhere, Logan grumbles, “I need a drink,” while Loki watches with an amused expression.

But you don’t care about any of that. Because in this moment, it’s just you and Hugh, dancing under the stars, as if the entire universe exists just to bring you together.

End.

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello my wonderful fandom :) Thank you for all your lovely comments on me being delayed. Not my usual M.O. but I definitely needed the extra time to process. I was GUTTED and absolutely wrecked. Poor D had to deal with my panic spiral for most of Wednesday. (love you lol) I'll be honest I'm still little shook up and sad. Kinda grateful for the 3 week break tbh between episodes. This was a gut punch I wasn't in the least expecting. Hoping we'll get a S7 announcement during this hiatus. *fingers crossed* Get it together ABC. This took me awhile to unpack emotionally so thank you all again for being so patient.

So I want to preface this post. There will be ZERO And I mean ZERO bashing of Tim in this review from me. Would appreciate that in comments as well. I love conversation you know I love comments. What I don't like is hate being spread. Also nothing on Eric either. I've also seen this which is utter madness. Don't touch our captain. Man loves this fandom so much. Deserves respect. If you came to this review for either of those things please promptly exit stage left. I mean that in the kindest way possible but I love Tim/Eric so it's a non starter with me.

I’ve never so deeply related with a character in all my life as I have with Tim Bradford. I’ll be dissecting this ep to best of my ability. I love both these characters so very much. Why I was knocked out for a couple days before could tackle this. I imagine my thoughts will change when I do my summer in depth one. When we have the rest of the season in pocket. I have to say this won't be mini at all. LOL So lets get rid of that concept right now ha I can't be mini with this ep. I am not brief so thanks for reading. Also hats off to Eric my god he was incredible in this episode. Melissa too killing me left, right and center you two. Let us get started.

6x06 Secret and Lies.

Poor Lucy looks like me when I’m stressed and drained af. Tamara asking how stressed she currently is? Lucy answering 19.....She looks like a 19 if not worse tbh. This is probably the most time they've spent apart since they got together. Basically living together at this point let's be honest. Other than 6x01 they haven't really spent time apart aside from that UC op in 5x21. *sigh*

Tamara asking if Tim is still ghosting her? Lucy trying so hard to keep it together with her answer. My heart. What a wreck she is without Tim. Do love that we get to see her pin-up board btw. Good shot of her room we don’t usually get. That cupcake poster I love it so much. Although now it makes me sad...

Lucy asking what's wrong? Tamara telling her she wants to move out with some friends from school. Crap. Her moving is the last thing she needs…. But it's good for her even though the idea makes me sad. End of an era. Lucy is right she needs to live with people her own age. Doesn’t make it hurt less though. This is a ROUGH season for Lucy my god. The hits keep coming for our girl and I wanna hug her. Shield her somehow....

Lucy touching near her tattoo when she reaches Angela. (Mini gut punch.) I do love her coming to Angela about this. If there is anyone who knows Tim like she does it's Angela. Does help she finds his behavior alarming too. I mean of course she does. You can see the immediate worry. The empathy she has for Lucy is there but she holds her cards close in her advice. Telling her to trust him even though it's literally killing her. Not the council Lucy needed to hear or was looking for.

Lucy wanted more action than 'Just wait and trust him.' She has been trusting him but she’s so insanely worried. Going out of her mind with anxiety for her person. It's exuding out of of her and she looks like she wants to cry…Ugh me too Lucy. I’m an empath and an anxious one at that. I would be going out of my mind too…. Angela looks worried as hell though. Even though she isn't conveying that to Lucy at this point. Breaking my heart as she takes off from their convo. Because if she doesn't she'll lose it right then and there.

God I love Angela Lopez. First off well done on tracking him down. She's just a bad ass. I mean it's one of the reason's Lucy reached out to her tbh. Just gets into his car, drinking his soda, calling him out right away. I love her reasoning saying she can live off Wesley’s trust fund. Lmao. Doesn’t matter as much if she get's fired. 'Wine o'clock.' for her. Gotta love the confidence. I truly hope we get more Tim/Angela scenes the rest of this season. I always adore their dynamic.

Tim is sold on her reasoning and starts to explain the current situation he's trapped in. Angela taking it all in and assessing everything as he explains. Once Tim has succinctly summed up his current predicament Angela's reply is the best. 'I’m in.' lmao I love this woman. ‘I got your back boo.’ That she does. In more ways than he even realizes at this point.

Gotta commend Angela calling him out for walking away from Lucy. Not only that but his job to arrest a guy hasn’t thought of in a decade…. Ain’t no one better than her to be there to call him out his crap right now. Not only that but to really dig deep. To know this is far more than what he's sharing. This is why Angela is an incredible detective rooting things out like this. Saying this is more than just protecting Lucy. Her intuition is out of this world.

I mean she's not wrong. Lucy would understand if it was just about the benefits. She would be proud really. Thing is it's about protecting himself too. Which really just scratches the surface of why he is doing this. Tim knows he's caught even if he shrugs it off. She has him dead to rights and he knows it. 'I’m your BFF. I know you.' Ha it’s true whether you like it or not Timothy…Just like Lucy she has your number.

Angela giving him crap with how they're following Ray. Worried he isn't being smart about this. This is so unlike him to be this sloppy and unfocused. She was right he was tailing too close… Ray catches on to their tail quickly. When he scanned the vehicle made me so nervous. Doing it while he's taunting Tim. He's so detail oriented blows my mind Tim let that get by him. This SL gave me such MASSIVE anxiety as I watched it. Oh my lord.

The minute they get back to Angela's place she calls him out once again. Asking why he thinks this is ALL his fault? Tim shrugs it off and she refuses to take that as his final answer. Of course Angela was right there is far more to this story. Tim finally opens up to her about what happened. He had been leading his squadron for some time. Looking to move up to Sergeant.

The catch was he couldn’t be promoted if there was rampant criminality in his unit. Ray clearly was in the way of him moving up. Tim figured he could keep it within his unit if they went after him.. Oh Tim…. It was an unsanctioned mission too. Thinking if he could accomplish this would be easy fast track to his promotion.

Kills me to know he was there during the air strike ugh… Details missing from the last episode. The Humvee saved him and Mark but not his other men… I can't imagine what Tim felt in that moment. The immense amount of guilt laid on his soul from here on out. I mean it makes sense why he never left patrol before Lucy. The last time he tried to advance his career this happened. My broken boy.

Eric CRUSHES this scene. I wanna cry. My poor Timothy. He was more focused more on his career than his oath...Got two of his men killed. My damn heart. He’s so ashamed of himself. The way he points at himself when he says 'leadership.' I knew his military past would be dark but holy crap. I wanted more of his backstory and they delivered that in spades. What a gut punch this had to be for him. No doubt his men were loyal af to him. Would've followed him anywhere and did.

He carries leading those men to their deaths because they followed his leadership. Oof. That is quite the weight to keep on your soul. Also gives us insight to why he shoulders everything. Even when he doesn't have to. Punishing himself for past transgressions such as this. I'm sure when we get to the other side of this season, I will have an even deeper respect for the writers going into his backstory like this. Giving us even more insight to this man.

This hurts so good to get this kind of info. I have no doubt that’s why he shut Lucy out. The shame he feels is overwhelming. I totally get it. Nothing scarier than someone knowing your darkest secrets. Not only that but worrying they’ll think less of you due to it. Tim already struggles with self loathing. Been a theme for him his entire arc on this series. Something I've touched on a lot. This is truly bringing that to light in the most painful way.

We see Ray scanned Tim's car in order to gain access to it. To check his GPS to see where he's been. How he's been tracking him. When he scrolls down to Lucy's address. Made my stomach sink. Legit felt sick to my stomach....

I do love Lucy coming home and having Tamara there. Saying she ordered pizza for them. This is exactly what she needs. Do you really have to go Tamara? I wonder if she'll delay leaving now after this ep. There is a knock at the door and of course it's not the pizza. It's Ray. Hair's on the back of my neck stood up from the moment he entered that apt.

I know Melissa stated in her interview she was nervous about this scene. That she came off awkward in her anger. You are incorrect madam. Holy hell Lucy is a BAMF. Telling him the only call she's gonna make is for the ambulance. Because when she's done with him he's going to need it to wheel him out. Holds her ground like the confident bad ass we've all loved seeing her become.

Lucy calling him shaking and demanding where he was. Ooh lord hell fire coming with her through that front door. I love Angela grabbing Tamara to another room. Like let's go mom and dad are about to have a big blow out. Let's give them some space...

Tim asking if she's ok? Truly concerned but Lucy isn't having ANY of it. 'Do I look ok?' Damn no she doesn't....Ripping into him saying how that creep could've showed up when she wasn't there. Lucy is not wrong....Oh my lord I’ve never seen her so damn mad. She is RAGING at him and rightfully so. Her home was violated, Tamara was put in danger and threatened. All because Tim was trying to protect her. phew.

Tim FINALLY concedes to telling her something. It only seems to enrage her more. She is literally vibrating with anger in this scene with him. The more he tells her the more it doesn't explain why he left her in the dark. Lucy begging him to read her in. I mean she has earned that my love. ..Telling him to stop protecting her. Gah Tim is a deep loyalist who would protect anyone he loves even if it's not the right thing. His reply is a reflection of that.

'I can't. I won't.' He's so driven to keep her safe. His instinct is to protect her but doesn't see he's hurting her in the process. I knew she was going to be pissed he let Angela in and not her. But Tim was right she has a lot less to lose. Which doesn't seem pertinent in this moment...I do love her placing her hands on his when she also replies. 'I can't. I won't.'

Mirroring his words from moments ago. Just like he will never stop protecting her. Lucy will never stop fighting for him or longing to help him. That man is her entire world. The most important person in her life. It makes perfect sense she would help with this. Career be damned. I mean she risked her career to get him a shot at Metro. Of course she would do the same thing in order to shoulder his burden with him.

Love her standing her ground in this moment. Like damnit I love you and you are going to let me in. Whether you like it or not I am here and I'm going to help. If this wasn't a reflection of the communication problems that still painfully exist between them I don't know what is. I mean she tried to be patient and trust him. But honestly he needed this kick in the ass to let her in. Which is a problem. Lucy needs to be the first person he goes to. It shouldn't have to come to this. *sigh*

Their OP goes off without a hitch. Except Ray saying he was going to be an air strike on Tim's life.... God I had no idea as I was watching that scene how true it would be. Tim gets his interview and lies to protect Angela and Lucy. While keeping his own job intact as well. Also welcome back to Jackson’s dad. Hello there Percy. This is not how I wanted to see him again.

But he is IA him returning was never gonna be a good thing tbh in a post Jackson world. Regardless it was nice to see him again. The scene is Grey's office is ROUGH. Never seen Wade so disappointed in Tim. It hurts to watch. Just like this entire gut punch of an episode. Tim is just standing there in utter shame of everything. Ashamed Wade is looking at him like this.

Kills me Grey has to inform Pine of what he did. It makes sense he has to but damn that sucks. The amount of respect Tim has for Wade is immense. To watch him tear Tim apart and just stand there like a puppy being scolded hurts my soul. Especially when he tries to fight Pine knowing. Just dismissing him without further comment or argument...

So I will say this and it's not at all fair to Lucy that I thought this I'm sure. But I felt like if there was gonna be a breakup it would be coming from her. Not Tim in this moment. That's the part of this moment that really knocked the wind out of me. She had every damn right to be the one too btw. Instead she is there waiting for him with open arms. Honestly I took a breath for the first time this entire episode when she welcomed him in.

Wrapping him up in her arms. Encasing him, rubbing his back, her fingers in his hair. Gently cradling him against her. I thought ok maybe we'll be alright. Since Lucy isn't nearly as angry as she was earlier. Maybe they can get through this together. Cause she loved on him regardless of what happened. The unconditional love she has for this man blows me away. I honestly thought with her loving on him maybe they'd make it out. That they’d work through it together.

Tim looks so very defeated. On the verge of an actual breakdown as he explains that he lied about everything. Saying it saved his job...protected Angela and her. It doesn't seem like enough of a win to him. He looks so very destroyed and this is just the beginning of his downward spiral.

Lucy is doing everything to be his rock in this moment. To assuage him of his guilt… Most vulnerable ever seen Tim *pre tears*…. Lucy telling him it was an impossible situation. She would've done the same thing. It’s so very clear she was willing to work through this. To build them back to where they were before he got that phone call. Everything Lucy was in this scene represented her unconditional love for him. Tim is just too destroyed at the moment to see it….Also for him to accept it. It's so hard to truly accept unconditional love if you've never had it before. To truly trust in it.

Lucy is watching him spiral out of control. The way he's talking about himself with such loathing. How she never would've been in a place where she put her self interest over her team like him. She is trying her damndest to right his wrong. But Tim is having none of it. It pains me to see it... Pains Lucy too. It's the way she grabs onto him while he continues his verbal self flogging that get's me.

Trying to ground him in this moment with her touch. Bring him back to her. Something that has worked so well in the past. Sadly not having the intended affect this time around. Tim is too damn gone at this point. He feels he’s betrayed everything he thought he was. THOUGHT he was. *heart clutch* Tim has such a deep moral compass. That's why this is rocking him so very much. Ugh my heart. I too have a crazy deep moral compass. I can't say I wouldn't be spiraling out like him as well.

This was his greatest sin brought to light. To Tim exposing him for the fraud he feels he is. Him saying he's been lying to himself for a long time is a reflection of this. That imposter syndrome coming out real strong here. Something he buried deep down came rushing to the forefront and he is imploding. Says as much above. He no longer feels worthy to be in her life now. I get this anytime I screw up with a friend or my sister. I have this deep sense of shame attached to it. Like I no longer deserve that friend or my sister cause I messed up or if a past sin comes up. That they'll no longer love me or will forever look at me differently cause of it.

It's not logical but it's deeply ingrained from my mom shaming me for doing anything wrong growing up. As it is for Tim. His father literally beat the hell out of him for ever being out of line. He has suffered emotional and physical abuse. Unless confronted and treated comes out like this. Demons making their way to the surface. I was bawling by the time he said 'I'm sorry.' He’s never seen himself worthy of Lucy’s love that much has always been evident. But to see it this raw and visceral ripped my heart out. It’s on the ground where they're both standing.

I think this is something that has been brewing in the background for Tim for a long time. Now that I've had time away to decompress and think. I'm actually very excited they're tackling this. It's clear Tim is not in a place where he thinks he deserves her anymore. Low key never has been. He acts before he thinks. Eric had a great quote from his interview about Tim "He is impulsive and he reacts instead of thinking things through, and it can come out a bit too strong.” That is this decision in a nutshell. He feels he is a burden therefore he is removing himself without thinking it through. The regret that is going to come with this is going to be immense for him.

'You deserve so much better.' Better than me basically. He feels immense shame and that shame is launching him away from her. You know I learned something in therapy about this. About not being perfect and feeling like I'm too much. i.e. a burden. My therapist told me and it made me cry. 'You are worthy of the space you take up in people's lives. They want you there.' Tim does not think he is worthy of the space he is taking up in Lucy's life now. All his sins on the table laid out for her to see. He can't handle it. That much is very clear here. I will say I haven’t let a ship hurt me like this in a long time.

This absolutely crushed me. I couldn't even fathom assembling my thoughts. Cut me very deep. Been with this ship since day one. Also what a crushing blow this is for Lucy. Our poor girl. I mean she gave everything to this relationship. I mean EVERYTHING. She was all in from the moment Tim said ‘Unless it is.’ This was her first real relationship. First real leap into being serious. Thinking about marriage and kids. She gave her all to Tim my god. Her career took a hit for him and she never complained. Knew he was worth it (he still is btw) Fought every step of the way for him. For them.

When he was pulling back above it was an absolute panic for her. She could see him slipping through her fingers. Idk what broke my heart more Tim thinking he’s not worthy of her any longer or her begging him not to do this. She literally can't fathom how he can let go of her like this. Thought she was his person. Tim feels he’s gone back to who he was pre-Lucy and that scares him. He feels undeserving of the love she has to give him. Lucy knows everything and in his mind he can’t imagine her still loving him.

Lucy was as we all were in this scene. In disbelief... Even though Tim put her though absolute hell she was still there to comfort and support him. Because to her he is worth it even in the hard times. We all know Tim isn’t the best with his emotions. In his trauma damaged brain he thinks he’s doing the right thing here. That he’s radioactive, she deserves better than being around him and his reckless behavior.

The kiss on her head. Lucy trying to physically push away his rejection. Stomping all over my damn heart...However this ends up playing out Tim is going to have to address his emotional instability. How he charges forward and doesn’t think things through. Ruled by his emotions in the worst way. He’s impulsive and he’s gonna have to fight to get her back when he’s in a better mindset. Her trust has been obliterated by this. She fought and clawed for them and this was her reward. He’s gonna have to do some serious healing to get back to her. Lucy has loved him the best she can but he needs to put in some work now. We see next ep he's meeting with Aaron's therapist. Don't love that but I’ve wanted Tim to go to therapy for years. He needs this. Therapy doesn’t work unless you put the effort in though.

That will be a challenge for him. When I get out of the purview of this hurt I’m feeling...I’m actually going to be really impressed and happy they had Tim go through this. Do I think this is the end of them? No I think this is some serious growing pains. It was issues that have been percolating since Lucy did that 5 player trade. Hell probably back in 5x12 when Tim sacrificed himself without telling her so they could stay together. I still think that was romantic because of it's intended nature. BUT was the beginning of the communication problems. They’ve grown so very much in that regard. We’ve seen it but there is still work to be done on that front. It just came to a very gutting painful head.

I still have faith in the writers. I still have faith they’ll be ok. It might not be right away and I'm already feeling impatient tbh. But this is some serious realism being applied to them. It wasn't some random BS angst. Honestly we’re lucky our ship gets the most attention, the best SL’s and two people who LOVE these characters. They absolutely adore them and this ship. If you haven’t read Melissa and Eric’s interviews for this episode I highly recommend. This sucks right now. No two ways about it. But we will survive this storm. They’ll come out stronger than ever. Truly believe that. But for now let's rally around each other and get through this together. There will be brighter days ahead just doesn't feel like it right now. We got this.

~~~

Side notes non Chenford.

Do love Aaron working with Harper all if of all I cared about other than their SL in this one. Nolan's I fast forwarded which I normally don't do but I had no patience for his BS in this ep lol My anxiety was rampant in this ep and had no space for him.

Also RIP Metro Tim for the 6x07 promo. This hurts to see not just cause I enjoyed him in that outfit lol But to see his career take a nosedive like this. I wanted more Tim back story. Didn’t think would hurt like this though....Feel free to comment I love you all for any interaction I get with these. <3

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Three

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: Have another one because I can’t stand not posting chapters when I have them written. Thanks for all the love, seriously! Absolutely insane that this has blown up so fast. I’ve written 30k in a week. God damn. 

Word Count: 7.7k+

Chapter Three

“Fast and painless, right?” you said, looking at Roy. The two of you stood at the end of the red carpet, before the entrance to the charity ball. Paparazzi yelled at players on the carpet, snapping pictures incessantly.

“That’s the plan. I’ve been doing this for too fucking long. Trust me,” he replied, and just for that brief moment, you found that you trusted Roy Kent wholeheartedly. He stuck his arm out for you. “Come on.”

You laid your hand on his forearm, slinking it together with his own, until you were secure. Roy peered down at you subtly, just for a second, before he started walking. You had no choice but to follow him and match his pace. The two of you booked it down the red carpet, ignoring the sudden flashes of cameras, and the way they were practically begging Roy for a photo.

“No, no, no, no,” he whittled off, and when that didn’t work, he transitioned to, “Fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off!”

Inside, it was much more subdued. You were thankful for Roy’s support beforehand, even if you felt so fucking silly now that you’d made it. People mingled happily, shaking each other’s hands in introduction. It was easier than you expected. You sat at a table with the guys, alongside Ted and Keeley. Roy placed two beers in front of you, before he dropped down into the seat next to yours with a sigh.

“Made it in one piece,” he said, picking up a beer and bringing it to his lips.

“I’ll definitely be using that method in future,” you replied.

“What, when you become a professional footballer?”

You scoffed. “Exactly.”

You all quietened when Rebecca took the stage. She looked positively frazzled, but you couldn’t deny that she still held such a presence over a room. You admired her, truthfully. Taking over the football club, ignoring whatever shit the tabloids wrote about her, still taking charge where she could.

As she welcomed everyone to the charity ball, a sinking feeling hit your gut in the form of a man in a white fucking suit. He waltzed into the room like he owned it, whispered hello’s to people who recognised him. Suddenly, it was as if no one was listening to Rebecca, instead replacing their gazes onto the man in white, who chose to stand directly in the centre of the room.

“Rebecca, darling!” he announced suddenly, and that’s when your face soured.

Rebecca stopped, frozen. “Rupert,” she said, gobsmacked.

As they kept up their back and forth, you leaned closer to Roy. He shot you a side-eyed glance, taking in the utter confusion on your face. “Who the fuck is that?” you asked him in a whisper.

“Fucking hell,” Roy whispered in reply. “You don’t even know who that is?”

You shrugged, catching his eye. “I told you, I know fuck all.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Roy let out. “That’s Rupert bloody Mannion. Ex-owner of Richmond, and–”

“Rebecca’s ex-husband,” you finished his sentence, before grimacing to oblivion. You’d never seen his face until now, and you silently thanked some god out there that you hadn’t. “I think he’s the biggest sleaze I’ve ever fucking seen.”

Roy choked on his drink loudly, alerting the room to his presence suddenly. Rupert stopped gabbing over Rebecca’s speech to look at his old team Captain, and let out a sickening chuckle. You elbowed Roy in his ribs abruptly, and he looked up instantly.

“Is that Roy Kent?” Rupert asked, projecting his voice around the room. He spread his arms out in welcome. “Oh, how good it is to see your face! And the rest of you boys, too.” He addressed the rest of the table, strolling closer to all of you.

The guys stayed where they were, silent and glued to their seats. You, however, wished you could leave immediately.

“I swear, Roy,” you whispered frantically, as Rupert continued to approach. “If this man so much as looks at me I’m going to whack him in the–”

“And do my eyes deceive me, Roy, or is that a lovely lady that you’ve brought with you?” Rupert continued. You wanted to vomit.

Quickly, you looked to Rebecca on stage. She was utterly frozen, dealing with both the shock and anger of having Rupert arrive out of the blue, only to upstage her in the middle of her welcome speech. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that Rupert was a narcissistic piece of shit, just from one bloody look. You’d been around men enough to spot a red flag in a sea of blue and red Richmond shirts.

Roy straightened himself out, as Rupert placed his hand on the top of his chair. He peered down at the pair of you, smiling in a way that could only be described as utterly disgusting.

“Rupert,” Roy said plainly, ignoring his prior question. You kept your eyes forward, ignoring the sickening look that Rupert was flicking between yourself and Roy.

“Nice to see you again, Captain.” He slammed his hand down on Roy’s shoulder once, before he went back to addressing the entire room.

You let out a pent up breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding. Beside you, Roy relaxed back into his seat the further Rupert walked from your table. At the same time, the both of you reached for your beers. You both downed the remainder of your bottles, dropping them, utterly empty, back onto the tabletop afterwards.

“Another beer?” Roy asked, and you got his message immediately. He was saying let’s get the fuck out of here.

“Please.” You stood immediately, not giving a shit when you sauntered past Rupert, with Roy on your tail.

The two of you stayed at the bar until things had died down, which by all accounts, was a long fucking time. The room had gone back to its normal level of stardom, and Rebecca had managed to finish the rest of her welcome address. A few empty bottles covered the bar where you and Roy stood, gabbing away as if you were at the fucking pub, instead of at a prestigious charity event.

You clutched your fingers over your mouth, trying to hold in a colossal laugh. In front of you, Roy kept digging deeper into the story he was telling you, and it was only making it worse. You were laughing so hard that you were sure you’d burst, and when you got a few seconds of peace to glimpse at him, you were happy to see the smallest curl of a smile on his lips, too. You’d been talking about boy bands for an hour and found yourself thinking– if it stayed like this for the rest of the night, then you’d be happy.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you burst finally, letting the last of your agonising chuckles trickle from your mouth. You clutched your middle, feeling the welcomed pain of too much laughter. “I used to be a massive fan of them growing up, you know?”

“One Direction?” Roy questioned, almost like he was offended, until he skidded his eyes down you quickly. “Oh, well, that makes sense. You were a teenage girl at one point, surely?”

You scoffed, actually offended. “What do you mean surely?” you let out. “Incase you forgot already, Roy, I do happen to be a woman.”

“No fucking waaaay,” he breathed out, faking amazement. “That’s insane.”

A few trickles of laughter erupted between the two of you, but were abruptly cut off by a flustered Rebecca. She bombarded towards the bar, as if on a warpath. “The auction is in a minute, Roy. Back to your seats,” she directed, leaving both of you with a scolded look upon your faces.

“The auction?” you asked. “I had no idea you were such an… art curator.”

Roy picked up two new beer bottles, as the two of you started heading back to your table. “It’s not a bloody art auction.”

“What kind of auction is it, then?”

As if on cue, Rupert emerged onto the stage to a round of applause from the audience. You couldn’t help your scowl, but you perked up when you saw Jamie follow him onto the stage. “Now, now, it’s time for the best event of the night– the auction! And first up, we have none other than Richmond striker, number nine, Jamie Tartt!” Rupert announced, and your quizzical look turned into full on disgust.

As you and Roy sat back down, you erupted. “Are you fucking kidding me? They’re auctioning off you guys?”

“It’s a tradition,” Keeley said, though she didn’t look any more impressed as you.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just when someone says charity that doesn’t usually bring trafficking to mind.” You leaned back in your chair and crossed your legs. Roy handed you a beer, but you were so annoyed that you didn’t even think to thank him.

“Shall we start the bidding off at one thousand pounds?” Rupert continued, and an all-out bidding war began– just not with Keeley.

For a moment, it was only an older woman who was interested, but when a different woman- younger, blonder, fitter– got involved, Keeley could barely contain her anger. She cleared her throat, looking at you sternly. “Not fucking today,” she said, before she raised her own paddle. “Five thousand pounds!” she bid.

“Eight thousand!” the blonde behind her said, and all it did was piss Keeley off further.

“Ten!” Keeley said.

“Eleven,” the other woman said.

It was constant, and as stressful as it was sat next to Keeley herself, Jamie was lapping up the fight for himself on stage. He stuck his tongue out arrogantly, taking in the bidding war with nothing less than the smile that he wore on the pitch, right after scoring a goal.

“This is vile,” you commented, and Roy perked his brow at you.

“Even worse when you think about her,” Roy added, pointing to the older woman who had been adamant to snag Jamie for herself. “She wins me every year, and each date has been worse than the fucking last. I had to leave her on the street in Hammersmith last time, ‘cause she’d booked us a cab to go back to hers for dessert.”

You grimaced. “You’re footballers, not fucking escorts.” For a second, Roy casually contemplated a career as an escort. He shrugged, almost like he didn’t mind. You scowled immediately. “I hate this.”

When Jamie’s bidding war finally ended, going to Keeley for a steep fifteen thousand, Roy readied himself to go on stage. He did up the middle button of his jacket and cleared his throat, before he stood. You had the strangest urge to protest, to stand up and say that this was all fucking weird, but you kept your mouth shut.

When Jamie returned to the table, Keeley was sharp with him. The blonde sat behind you had obviously got to her, and for good reason. You didn’t know the extent of Keeley and Jamie’s relationship, but you knew them individually, and that was enough to know that Keeley definitely deserved more. You could appreciate his talent, his skill, his work ethic, but the way Jamie Tartt treated people didn’t match up.

You peered back at the older woman; she licked her lips as Roy made his way onstage. It made you feel somewhere between sick and angry. “Next up is Richmond’s Captain, number six, you all know and love him– Roy Kent!” Rupert announced, and Roy reluctantly took the stage.

“God, don’t let her bloody win,” you muttered, and Keeley let out a small laugh beside you.

“She’s always on a rampage,” she said, smiling, but you saw a glint in her eyes– she was hurt, and Jamie had done fuck all to make her feel any better.

“Shall we start the bidding off at–?”

“Five thousand pounds!” the older woman interrupted Rupert, booming her shrill voice over the room.

Onstage, Roy mouthed fucks sake. On Keeley’s other side, Jamie started laughing. You wanted to whack him because of his overly obnoxious behaviour, but instead settled on rolling your eyes. Keeley froze next to you, and you felt like something was brewing within her.

“Five thousand going once,” Rupert said. “Going twice!”

“Six thousand!” Keeley erupted suddenly, and you snapped your gaze onto her.

You weren’t naive. As Keeley and the older woman got into another bidding war, you knew exactly why she was getting involved with Roy’s auction. It was to piss off Jamie. She wanted to spite him by bidding on Roy– his obvious fucking enemy. You let out a silent groan, sending up a prayer to whoever was listening for this shit to end. It was like you’d been sat at a table for secondary school kids instead of professional athletes.

“Eight thousand!” the older woman said.

“Ten thousand pounds!” Keeley yelled louder, and that was your last straw.

Quickly, you grabbed her by her bicep. “Keeley,” you whispered harshly. “Stop it. This is childish. And this isn’t fucking fair on Roy.”

Keeley turned to you, looking thoroughly chastised. It took her a moment, but when she breathed out, you saw her true nature return. “Yeah,” she said sullenly. “You’re right.” She sighed, and put her paddle down. Sending an angry look at Jamie, she got up and left the table.

“Eleven thousand!” the older woman countered.

Rupert perked his brow. “Oh? Is that it, then? Eleven thousand going once…”

You peered over at Jamie, who didn’t look happy at all. The atmosphere on the table had dropped significantly, but you were just glad that it was almost over.

“Eleven thousand going twice!” Rupert continued, and you looked towards Roy onstage.

He caught your eye as you looked towards him, and there was something that switched within you. Almost instantly, you held the determination of your whole table– all of whom were tired of being paraded around and bought, even if it was for fucking charity. You weren’t going to let the old bat win another year in a row.

You stood up quickly, grabbing your paddle and raising it to the sky. “Twelve thousand pounds!”

Rupert’s grin was practically off the charts. “Oh, we have a new bidder! Twelve thousand for the Richmond Captain!”

“Thirteen thousand!” the oldie hit back.

“Fourteen!” You peered back at her, shooting her a death stare.

“Fifteen!”

“Sixteen!”

She stood up, her knees creaking as she did so. “Eighteen thousand!”

“Eighteen thousand for Richmond’s Captain!” Rupert exclaimed over the mic.

You hesitated just for a moment, before taking another look at Roy. He must know you didn’t actually have eighteen fucking grand to give away. He must know that you were only doing this to save him from another god awful date with that geriatric nymphomaniac.

You smacked your hand on the tabletop suddenly, scaring Jamie out of his skin. “Twenty-five thousand!” you practically screamed it, and in response garnered a huge round of applause and cheers from the other guests.

“Twenty-five going once!” Rupert said, and the oldie behind you finally started to falter. “Going twice!” he added, as tension stuck itself to every corner of the fucking room. “Gone!”

The crowds erupted even further, with a few actually coming up to shake you by the hand afterwards. Rupert’s laughter reverberated around the entire hall, and when you looked at Roy, you were happy to see relief all over his face.

Rupert whacked a hand down on Roy’s shoulder. “Well, well, well, Mr. Kent,” he began. “It seems to me that you’ve found yourself a real keeper.”

As the hall died down to a better level, Roy returned to the table. Ted and Rebecca had disappeared off somewhere, and you were biting back the adrenaline that coursed throughout your whole body. You could see now why people got hooked on gambling.

Roy sank into the seat next to yours, picked up his beer and downed the contents. When he put the empty bottle back on the table, he leaned closer to you. “I’m assuming that I’m forking up twenty-five grand, right?”

“Yep,” you said immediately. You gulped back your own beer, copying him by placing your empty bottle next to his.

“Another beer?” he asked, and you sent him a surprised look. You’d just forced him into giving up twenty-five grand, all to avoid a bad date, and he didn’t seem angry in any way.

“Why aren’t you pissed at me?” you asked.

Roy draped his arm over the back of your chair and crossed his legs comfortably. He leaned towards you, looking so relaxed now that you wouldn’t have been able to recognise the man he was on stage. “Do you want me to be pissed?”

“No,” you said, crossing your arms. “I was just wondering why not.”

“Because you just saved my fucking skin, that’s why,” Roy said.

“Yeah, and lost you twenty-five fucking grand, Roy,” you whispered harshly.

Roy scoffed. “I’m a fucking footballer.”

You shrugged. “Fair enough.” The two of you rose together, headed for the bar again, leaving Jamie and Keeley to their awkward silence.

The rest of the evening seemed to run smoothly, until the abrupt announcement that Robbie Williams was sadly not performing. You frowned from the bar, while Roy silently rejoiced by downing another beer. The atmosphere had mellowed to something you were better suited for, but that all went to shit when Jamie approached the bar. Keeley was nowhere to be found, but the immediate daggers that shot between Jamie and Roy were more than noticeable.

You tapped your nails against your beer bottle, waiting for either of them to speak first. It seemed to be a running theme, you noticed, that Jamie and Roy fucking hated one another. You could understand why– Jamie was overly arrogant, on and off the pitch. Roy had dealt with all kinds of people throughout his career, and simply didn’t have the tether to put up with them anymore.

“So,” Jamie broke the silence. “Twenty-five grand.”

Roy growled in reply. You took that as the perfect time to leave them to it. You headed to the bathroom, just from the sheer lack of where else to fucking go. You weren’t in the mood to mingle in the main hall, too afraid that Rupert would do the rounds once more. Opening the door to the bathrooms, you immediately found Rebecca and Keeley by the sinks.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Sorry. I was wondering where you’d both gone off to.”

Keeley turned to you first, and you instantly knew something was wrong. One glance at Rebecca confirmed the fact– something had definitely happened. “What’s wrong?” You placed a gentle hand on Keeley’s shoulder. “Jamie?” Keeley nodded sullenly. “You deserve more, Keeley. So much more.”

She smiled at you sadly, but there was a finality within her glistening eyes. She looked almost relieved, even though she hadn’t pulled the bandaid off yet. Secretly, you knew this would be a reality call for Jamie, too. Just because he was young and successful didn’t give him the right to treat others like dirt. Outside at the bar, you hoped Roy was saying the same, just not in a way that would start a fucking fight between them.

You headed to a stall, but stopped before you could shut the door. “For the record,” you said, turning back to the ladies. “Rebecca, you deserve more, too.” Rebecca’s face softened into something warm. “Even looking at Rupert made me feel like I needed to take a fucking shower.” Rebecca scoffed abruptly. She raised her martini to you, and you finally shut the stall door.

You had always been good at Irish goodbyes. It was one of your top skills, and had a close to one hundred percent success rate. At an event like this, you didn’t doubt it would also work wonders. After the bathroom, you glanced at the bar to find it empty of any footballers. That was a good enough cue to finally call it a night.

You left the venue, only to be hit by a crisp Richmond breeze. Immediately, you regretted not bringing a jacket. You knew it was a matter of time before it came to bite you in the arse, but you hadn’t been thinking before you’d jumped into Roy’s Jeep earlier. Another breeze rushed past you, making goosebumps prickle against your skin. “Fuuucking hell,” you muttered, descending the steps outside and trying to remember the way home.

You stood on the pavement, looking left and right, trying to gauge where in Richmond you actually were. Your bare arms shook as another breeze hit you, but they were relieved when something warm draped over them without warning.

Peering behind you, you caught the sight of Roy’s strong jawline. He finished draping his jacket over you, before he stuck his hands in his pockets and stood next to you.

“You just ruined it,” you let out, sighing. “I was trying to sneak out without anyone noticing.”

Roy perked his brow at you. “You fucking failed, then. And, by the looks of it, would have frozen to death on the fucking spot if it weren’t for me.”

“And I saved you from a borderline unethical date with a geriatric millionaire, who only wanted to jump your fucking bones,” you hit back with.

“Yeah, you did,” Roy acknowledged. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

You shrugged. “I figured it was better me, over her or Keeley.”

“You can fucking say that again.” Roy scuffed his feet on the pavement.

“I told her to knock it off,” you said. “It’s not fun when you get unwillingly involved in someone else’s relationship problems.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience, there.” Roy peered down at you questioningly.

You scoffed, looking back at him playfully. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh, really? Care to tell me on the walk home?” he asked, sneaking in a quick ask about walking home together in the process.

A wall of caution sprung up within you. It dawned on you then that you’d spent the entire evening with Roy, tied at the fucking hip. He’d bought all your drinks, comforted you before arriving, driven you here, and was the very reason you’d been invited in the first place. Sure, you were a bit drunk, but not too drunk to realise that this wasn’t exactly casual.

You felt like you knew Roy well enough to know he wasn’t anything but decent, but he was also a professional footballer. His face was present in tabloids twice a week, with stories ranging from women, to messy nights out that people had somehow photographed without him knowing. There was a fine line between colleagues and friends, and an even finer line between colleagues and whoops, we just fell into bed together, didn’t we? You didn’t want to cross that line to oblivion.

That’s what you kept in mind as the two of you stumbled home. Roy’s jacket did make a world of difference, and when you slotted your arms through the sleeves they went past your fingertips. The two of you navigated Richmond neighbourhoods, commenting on the big fucking houses down Roy’s road.

“That one is far too bougie,” you said, pointing at a mansion that was entirely glass-fronted. “It’s literally a stalker's dream. From a high up window you’d be able to see every fucking thing that went on inside.”

“Sounds like you’re talking from experience about that, too,” Roy said, smiling at his own dig subtly.

“Oh, you caught me,” you said, melodramatically clutching a hand to your chest. “I’m Richmond’s biggest mansion stalker. I see a house made completely from glass and orgasm on the spot.”

Roy huffed through his nose, amused. “Who are your targets? Billionaires? Lawyers? Footballers?”

“Depends,” you said. “Is your house made completely out of glass?”

“Fuck no,” Roy said. “I do have a skylight above my bed, though.”

“Damn,” you said. “I’ll have to expand my stalking to drone footage, too.”

“Sounds like a good investment,” Roy added, before he peered down at you. You took a moment to look up at him, too, and shared a smile with one another. Inside your head, you were screaming at yourself about the wall you’d erected earlier.

Roy stopped walking suddenly, and you let out a small squeak as you tried to stop at the same time as him. It was clear you’d both drunk a lot, but it was all in good fun. “This is me,” Roy said then, pointing to the house before you.

Your eyes widened immediately. Before you stood a huge house, decorated with bushes and a large blossom tree out front. You felt the absence of his Jeep in the driveway, but it allowed for you to see the massive front door– made from solid oak, with a shining knocker right in the centre. It was easily three storeys high, and through one of the large windows, you caught a glimpse of a framed football shirt. This was definitely Roy Kent’s house.

“Fuck me,” you said involuntarily. Roy actually scoffed, which was a different kind of shock entirely. “You weren’t kidding about it being one of the big, fuck off houses, then.”

“Why would I lie about having a great fucking house?”

“No, no. I’m not judging here,” you said, keeping your gaze on the building before you. “You’re right. That’s a great fucking house.”

There was a moment of silence that settled over the two of you, only made more intense by the light of the moon, and the utter lack of stars that graced the sky in London. You sucked in a deep breath as you looked back at Roy, only to find his gaze on you already. You smiled, he smiled back subtly, and your gut lurched within you.

Roy shuffled on his spot, before clearing his throat. “Wanna come in for a drink?”

There was a feeling that descended upon you, one that was not at all mature and one hundred percent giddy. You’d been in this position multiple times, but with Roy it felt different. He was your work colleague, for starters, and that wall that you’d forced yourself to build was still erected, as much as a part of you was trying to knock it down with a fucking sledgehammer.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s waaay past ten-thirty,” you let out.

“Ah,” Roy said, catching on immediately. “I forgot you were a boring uni student.”

“Boring masters student. But, yes.” You took a small step back, fully cementing that you wouldn’t be joining him for another drink this evening. “Another time,” you added, simply because you wanted to grab a drink with Roy in future. You didn’t want to ward him off, or make him feel like you were rejecting him, as much as that would be okay, too.

Roy shot you an expression he’d never shown you before. It wasn’t blunt, so to say, but it wasn’t sweet, either. It was some form of middle ground. It told you that he understood, but also reassured you that this wasn’t a big deal. It was crazy how much of an expression interpreter you became when you weren’t bloody sober.

“Another time,” Roy repeated after a moment. Gently, you started taking off his jacket, but he waved at you in dismissal. “Keep it for the walk home,” he said.

You huffed at him, but did as you were told. “Thank you,” you let out.

Roy nodded, as you took another step back. “See you on Monday?” you asked rhetorically.

“See you on Monday,” he confirmed.

You took another step back, almost stumbling into the road. Roy lurched forward quickly, just in case he needed to grab you and stop you from falling flat on your face, but you stabilised yourself. Flustered, you let out a breathy chuckle. Laughter echoed down his fancy as fuck road, before disappearing into the crisp night.

You sent one final smile Roy’s way, before you finally swivelled on your heels, headed for your road a bit further down. Roy slowly stepped towards his front door, keeping a watchful eye on you as you tread further down the road.

“Goodnight,” he let out, raising his voice a bit to reach you down the street.

You turned back to him, walking backwards for a few paces. “Goodnight!” you replied, waving your arm wildly in the air at him.

When you faced forward again, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Nothing would come from this, you told yourself, but it didn’t stop it from feeling nice. Having a genuinely pleasant night with someone that you’d never– in a million fucking years– thought you’d gel with, was oddly fulfilling. When you thought back to the month before, it made you want to cackle maniacally to yourself. It was funny, wasn’t it? How things could change so fast, how they could evolve into you having a really great fucking evening with someone you previously couldn’t stand to be around, let alone talk to.

You pulled off your shoes when you arrived home, ready to utterly collapse into bed. Your phone dinged in your clutch before you could. You picked it up, utterly surprised to see a text from Roy waiting for you.

Get home safe.

You replied simply.

I did.

Roy replied instantly.

Good.

You thought that would be it, dropping your phone onto your bed as you went to strip off your clothes. Heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you shut the door behind you. Roy texted you again, one that you wouldn’t see until you woke up in the morning.

Sleep well.

A week later, as you sat in the owners box next to Keeley and Rebecca, your heart was in your throat. As Ted bombarded down the steps back to the field, you were in the same boat as everyone in wondering why– Ted had decided to bench Jamie Tartt for the rest of the game, despite him scoring a goal for Richmond not two minutes before.

Rebecca looked slightly shaken, but there was also an underlying happiness to her mood. You noticed that she acted odd, sometimes. Such as when Richmond were doing well, she would join in with fake enthusiasm. When they were doing terribly, it was customary to find her with a smile stamped all over her face. It was the same one she showed now, as Ted made a show of benching Jamie, and the home crowd at the Dogtrack exploded.

Jamie Tartt was pissed off. He was seething as he went to sit down, and went as far as kicking one of the chairs for the rest of the team reserves. You winced when you saw it, alongside hundreds of other fans, but that’s when you chose to look over to Roy.

He was on the pitch with his hands on his hips, and an oddly calm expression stamped on his face. Within you, you silently relaxed. You knew that if Roy wasn’t freaking out, then he understood Lasso’s reasons for what he’d done. You leaned back in your seat casually, causing a flustered Keeley to peer at you.

“What are you so bloody relaxed for? Jamie’s going to burn this place to the fucking ground.” She turned back to the pitch, watching the remaining two minutes of extra time before half time. Despite breaking up with the ace at the charity ball, Keeley still knew Jamie through and through.

You leaned forward and pointed to the pitch. “There,” you said, and Keeley followed your finger. “Look at Roy. He’s the calmest I’ve ever seen him on the pitch.”

“Yeah, because his arch nemesis has just been benched,” Keeley said.

“No, no. As much as Roy hates him, I know he’d be equally as fucked off and confused if Lasso had pulled Jamie for no reason. But, look, he’s absolutely fine.”

Keeley turned to you. “So, you think it was the right decision?”

You shrugged. “I don’t fucking know. All that I know is that, when I’m confused, I look at Roy’s reaction. I go with whatever emotion he’s sending into the void, and somehow it all just works out fine.”

Keeley leaned back slightly, looking at you in confusion. “It’s like you guys are telepathic, or something.” She snapped her head towards Roy again. “That’s fucking amazing.”

Over the next few weeks, things start feeling like home to you. Two months down the line and it was as if you’d known the guys for years. It was normal for you to join them for team nights out, and normal for them to poke their heads around your office door from time to time. Every time you passed the gym, or the locker room, or the pitch, there would always be at least one lad who spotted you. He’d wave, and that would alert everyone else to your presence, until all of them had waved at you in greeting.

Roy was the same, but in his own way. Since the charity ball, it was clear that there was something there, no matter how small. There was a shared understanding between the two of you that was larger than what you had with the rest of the team. You couldn’t explain it, not even when you dedicated time to try and work out what it was.

You still had his jacket at home, up on the peg by your door, just waiting to be returned. There was something that halted you from dropping it around to him, however, and Roy hadn’t brought it up since the month before, either. There was some unspoken thing about it, you felt, that travelled back to when you’d both said another time.

Maybe that was it, hm? When that inevitable another time happened, you’d return the jacket then. But for now, it offered you a gentle reminder of Roy fucking Kent everytime you entered or left your flat. It was odd to think about it, but you saw everyone at Richmond most days of the week. Weekends were reserved for friends and family, naturally, but on a dull Saturday night you often found yourself with the urge to call one of the guys and see what they were up to.

Was this what having attachment issues felt like? You fucking hoped not.

Jamie had been off with everyone since Ted benched him. He was ruder, and more disrespectful, often showing up late for practice or leaving early without warning. To the team, he was still arrogant and self-serving; even more so towards Roy. Ted’s attempts at laying a stable groundwork with Tartt hadn’t seemed to stick, and everyone had been feeling it.

That was made worse by the arrival of a new striker by the name of Dani Rojas. Jamie had already been pushed into the proverbial corner, and when Dani showed off his moves on the pitch for the first time, it was clear that they were on par with each other. You spent those first few days confined to your office, trying to avoid the lot of them and miss being within firing range of Tartt’s next tantrum.

Later on, after Jamie ditched another practice session, you checked your inbox to find an intriguing email. It was forwarded from the university, but originally from the Independent. You read it silently, and after you were done, you immediately went to find Keeley. Rebecca had recently set her up with a job doing PR for the club, which made your life exponentially easier. She was better at social media, at getting brand deals and the like. You were a writer, not a publicist. You entered the press room and found her sitting at her temporary desk.

She turned to you and smiled. “Hey, babe,” she said sweetly. “You okay?”

You sighed, taking a seat opposite her, on the front row. “The Independent is running a competition for all MA students in London. Writers, journalists, sports students, all of that,” you explained. “If we write an article about a sportsman or woman, it could get published in the paper, on the front page of the sports section.” You dragged your hands down your face when you’d finished, and Keeley let out a huff at her desk.

“Babes, that’s an amazing opportunity!” she exclaimed.

“I know,” you whined, and dropped your hands into your lap.

Keeley straightened in her chair, looking at you softly. “Is there any reason why you don’t seem particularly excited about it?”

You peered at her, and it clicked instantly. She returned your stare with a knowing look, one that was warm and gentle, one that understood. After that, she furrowed her brows and sent you a soft smile. It wasn’t often that people could read you so easily, and when Keeley did it, it only made you feel more connected to her.

She let out a sigh. “There’s no harm in asking him.” Roy. She meant Roy.

“No,” you said immediately. “I said I wouldn’t ask him about any of this shit anymore, even if it is a great opportunity for me. You know how much he hates it,” you said. “I suppose I could do it about Ted, but Trent Crimm wrote a great article for him last month. And the boys, I mean– Richmond are always in the paper and the tabloids. I feel like I wouldn’t be adding to their stories.”

“That’s why you want to write about Roy,” Keeley stated.

You leant forward, finally bursting. “Yes! I do! Roy’s career has been explosive and intriguing and heart-warming. His Chelsea days were legendary, and the way he’s captained Richmond has been second to none. Why would anyone not want to write about him?”

Keeley stood up slowly, rounding her desk to sit in the chair next to you. Gently, she placed her hands over your knuckles. “Just ask him.”

“I don’t know how to,” you let out.

“Tell him the truth,” she said. “Say this is a great opportunity for you, and you can make it as painless as humanly possible for him.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to shadow him, or anything. I thought we’d go to the pub and talk for a few hours, really. It wasn’t going to be a proper interview.”

“That’s good,” Keeley said, squeezing your hands in approval. “Tell him that, too.”

“And if it all goes tits up?” you asked.

Keeley shrugged her shoulders, and let out a small laugh. “No one can know which way it’ll go with Roy. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you’re thinking right now, though.”

It was then that the anxious pit in your stomach started to clear. You looked at Keeley with your eyes large and glassy. You wondered if she knew all the thoughts that were rushing through your brain about you and Roy– how the main reason for not wanting to ask him was about not wanting to fuck up the friendship you’d both stumbled into. Especially after how things had started, you didn’t want it all to revert to that hostile environment.

“Babes,” Keeley whispered, leaning closer to you. “I don’t think you realise how likeable you are. The guys love you, and the coaches. Roy fits into that box, too.” Her reassuring words sunk into your skin, until you finally felt at ease. “And me, obviously,” she added quickly.

You huffed. “Thanks, Keeley,” you whispered. She draped her arms around you then, and you rested your head on her shoulder. Sometimes, a hug was all you needed to feel grounded.

You went back to your office to find another book from Sam, on your desk. He wrote small post-its for you and stuck them on the covers of each one he gave, and you secretly kept them all in the bottom drawer of your desk. You sat down and huffed to yourself, picking up his newest pick. The post-it read– Truthfully, this one did make me cry. Tell me if you do, too.

You stuck the post-it onto the pile of others in your bottom drawer, before you placed the book on a small shelf to your right. Shuffling in your bag, you found your next book for him. It was like clockwork, and you loved that this was something you’d started up with him. You left your office and headed for the gym, knowing it was time for the guys to do their second work-out of the day.

When you arrived, you sent a quick wave to all the guys, before seeking out Sam. He was on the bike, pumping his legs hard as he kept up his heart rate. You approached him, and draped your arms over the top of the stationary handle-bars. He smiled at you hugely, and you hovered the book out before him. “Fantastic,” he said softly, taking it from your grasp. “I was waiting for the day you would share your favourite classics with me.” It was a copy of The Great Gatsby.

“Am I that predictable?” you asked.

“Very,” Sam let out.

You huffed, amused. “Well, enjoy it. I look forward to reading yours, too.”

Sam clutched the book to his heart in thanks, before you swivelled on your heels and headed back towards the door. On the way, you noticed Roy on the treadmill, doing his normal incline walk. Keeley’s words surged within you, and you told yourself not to chicken out. Now was as good a time as any to ask. It would save you the time it took to worry beforehand.

You let out a deep breath, before walking towards him. He peered down at you, as you turned yourself round to face him, and leaned against the windowsill before him. He perked one of his black, bushy brows at you. “Can I help you?” he asked. There was a running theme between you. Most of your conversations started with that same question.

“The Independent is running a competition for MA students in London. It’ll result in one of us having an article published, and run on the first page of the sports section.” You laid it all out for him, expecting him to shut you down immediately, but he stayed silent. “I know how you feel about this sort of thing, which is why I’d never force you into doing this for me, again. But…” You looked up at him strongly, almost pleadingly. “This is a great opportunity for me, Roy. I can’t just write about anyone, either.”

“Why not?” he asked. His voice croaked, like he was struggling to get them out.

“Because.” You shuffled on your spot, something that you did when you knew you were being openly vulnerable. “I want to write about you.”

Roy looked to his feet, rhythmically stomping upon the treadmill beneath him. You could hear the cogs in his brain turning and whining, and you instantly felt guilty. You didn’t want to put him on the spot, and you’d seen what he could be like when he was. You half expected him to tell you to fuck off, but he didn’t. He just kept looking at his feet, walking to nowhere.

You inhaled deeply, taking matters into your own hands. “Don’t worry about it,” you said, and Roy looked at you once more. “I just thought I’d ask. This isn’t compulsory, so don’t worry.” You smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back. Instead, his mouth dropped open like he wanted to say something, but simply couldn’t get the words out. “See you around, Roy.”

You made to leave quickly, not wanting to stick around. Innately, you cursed at yourself for even asking in the first place. Keeley was right about it not doing any harm, but all it had done was make you feel bad.

“Hold it!” Roy boomed suddenly, and you turned back to him abruptly. The guys in the gym stopped working out, and you felt your stomach drop once more. Roy switched off the treadmill and jumped to the floor. “Just the one article?” he asked.

You nodded, gaining back some of your composure. “Only one.”

“How many people compete in this thing?” he asked.

“Um.” You wracked your brain, trying to figure out the average. “A few hundred, at least.”

“So, there’s a high probability that you won’t win,” Roy said, and you widened your eyes. He didn’t mean it offensively, but it still stung a bit.

“Yes. Very high probability, actually,” you said smally, feeling a tad embarrassed now that he’d explained it that way.

Roy looked at the ground, before he caught your eye strongly. “Okay. I’ll do it.” You sucked in a sharp breath.

“Really?” you asked, taking a few steps towards him.

He nodded, letting out a small growl. You let out an excited squeal, before you rushed at him. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an impromptu hug, muttering thank you over and over again. To the rest of the guys, all they saw was the shocked expression on Roy’s face, and the way his arms were tense at his sides from surprise. He didn’t know what to do with himself, didn’t know whether to wrap his arms around you in response. You pulled away too fast for him to come to a conclusion, and he peered down at you as you started towards the door again.

In the door frame, you turned back to him one last time. “Seriously, Roy,” you let out. “Thank you.” You tried to fit as much genuine feeling within your words as you possibly could.

Roy’s face softened subtly. You sent a final smile at him, before you left and headed back to your office. The gym stayed awkwardly silent as the guys laid their eyes over a statuesque Roy. He balled his fists when it all got to be too much, and let out a guff “Fucking get back to work!” to break open the tension.

The lads restarted their work-outs immediately, acting as if nothing had happened whatsoever. Roy jumped back onto the treadmill and started his walk once more. Through the window in front of him, he saw the open door to your office. If he moved slightly to the left, he could catch a glimpse of you, sitting at your desk, writing frantically on your laptop– utterly beaming.  

CHAPTER FOUR

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes​ @20th-centu-fairy-girl​ @royalestrellas​ @weakmoony-stuff​ @ironmanmagnetfridge​ @lemonpiegurll​ @hellomagicalsouls​ @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld​ @old-enough-to-know-better73​ @djarindroid​ @afraidofshrimp​ @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses​ @sogoodtoheritsvicious​ @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke​ @onceuponaoneshot​ @jamieolivia27​

[emilsgrippers]

Gidgette post Gidgette likers please don’t scroll (or scroll whatever…!!!see if I care…)

Bridgette loves monster high and one day her and Geoff are talking hanging out yk and he accidentally makes a monster high reference (he’s never watched it.he doesn’t even know what it is) and Bridgette is like shocked she’s over the moon. she already loves him SO much but she loves him even more now if it’s even possible

she’s like Geoff you watch monster high you’re a monster high fan?!!! and he’s like ohhh shit dude.i gotta impress her i already messed up and he’s like yeah babe!!!

so she tells him EVERYTHING she loves about the show and he’s just like “yeah, yeah, uh-huh! yeah” because he’s realizing now that he messed up. so she tells him her favorite character is lagoona blue and later that day Geoff decides he needs to figure out what the hell a lagoona blue is.

So he’s sitting at his computer and he searched up “lagoona” because he fucking forgot the second part of her name like a moron. so he searched lagoona and beep boop bop BAM. he sees a lot of g3 lagoona

he sees that she’s pink and suddenly remembers that the second part of her name was BLUE. so he doesn’t scroll any more and calls Brody and he’s like dude my girl bridge yk she likes this show ..she said her favorite character from it was lagoona blue so I searched her up… and she’s pink.

And Brody’s on the other line like WHAT thats stupid man why would they name her lagoona blue if she’s pink??and Geoff’s like idk. Hes like I gotta get into this for Bridgette tho,, and Brody’s like uh yeah man you do!!!

and before Geoff goes Brody’s all like hey, u gotta ask Bridgette why the hell theres such a discrepancy between her name and her design bro!!and Geoff’s like I will don’t worry

So next day he sees Bridgette and he’s like hey bridge!!and she’s like hiiii baby!!!!

and they’re yk talkin and all of the sudden Geoff’s like yk, your fav character lagoona blue who u were talking about yesterday yeah I’ve always wondered— why is her name ‘blue’ but she’s..pink?

and Bridgette just looks at him so unimpressed it’s actually insane . she just looks at him and frowns, so now Geoff’s getting all worried and she goes

Geoff it’s okay if you’ve never actually watched the shows or the movies..and Geoff just sulks in defeat

but on a very serious note why is lagoona blue pink now ☹️ I haven’t watched or seen monster high stuff in SO LONG and the next thing I know they’ve mangled my favorite character I desperately need to get back into monster high ………..

[charcubed]

Look, I personally lose nothing if Lokius doesn’t become explicit canon. And if that were to become the case, I’d also have no regrets for saying for years that that would happen in the show by the end ¯_(ツ)_/¯

I’ve said it before, but by now it would be Disney/Marvel’s loss, NOT mine. Whoever wasted or limited the potential would be the idiot, not me.

I’m simply never gonna feel crazy for noticing what’s happening in a story or silly for daring to hope it’ll be brought to fully satisfying narrative completion. That's just a me thing. Maybe this is because at heart I’m stubborn! But I’d like to think I’m not unreasonable. I can’t control whether writing stays consistent or censorship is overcome... But I just do my best to construct solid arguments, and as long as those arguments remain solid, I stand by them :)

I know not everyone would say the same, or they consider this to be "hope" or "optimism," but I see it as logic based in noticing what the text of a show/story is doing. And personally I also consider blatantly evident subtext to be "canon enough," so if we get my personal minimum, my happiness may still outweigh any potential disappointment for me.

However. Here's what I've come here to say today, in reaction to things I've seen floating around in the fandom:

While I do understand on some level why people worry that Lokius won’t be more explicitly canonically romantic because it could be censored by Disney.... At this point, I don’t understand how people can think Loki/Sylvie will still happen.

As of right now, there’s no way to argue for that in my opinion. (I'd like to see someone try.)

The show has set up a fun but very simple situation from basically the start:

They made romantic love a point of relevance in the show’s story. More specifically, they pointed out Loki's desire for a "real" romantic love, and had him learn the lesson that he doesn't deserve to be alone. They didn't HAVE to do all of those things and tie them together. They CHOSE to make romantic love relevant – and they have actively continued to choose to do that, to the point of including a mirrored dark love triangle in s2 ep3. That narrative thread simply has to be fulfilled.

So if they deliberately established that Loki wants and needs a “real” love, and his relationship with Sylvie was referred to as "fiction" so she cannot be a real love for him.... Who does it have to be?

Obviously it has to be Mobius. And of course, the whole show points to Lokius also, for countless more reasons than just this simple breakdown. But pointing this element out is the simplest argument one can make.

So either...

1. They take Lokius to full narrative completion with explicit canon, as they should and as I expect them to,

or

2. Loki's desire for a real love is left unfulfilled, open-ended, and/or made clear through subtext that it's Mobius.

Those are the options, if you ask me!

This is aside from how Lokius’ love story is now even at the core of the show’s themes and plot, which is an insanely strong vote in favor for their future canonicity.

But for the purposes of this post, I’m talking about whether we'll get explicit romance specifically, like a love confession or a kiss – and I do actually genuinely think we'll get both of those things. I'm not trying to force you to agree with me, but just to be clear, that's where I'm at with it and have been since 2021 lol.

So in regards to worrying about Loki/Sylvie...

They were never really a romance (yes, even in season 1) and they sure as hell aren't now. I can’t imagine they'll become one even IF Lokius is left subtextual.

So what actually remains to be seen is if the writers got to go all the way with Lokius, or if that central queer love story was censored on some level in the end.

My hot take is no one should be ~worrying~ about Sylki at this stage of the game. Free yourselves, people.

If the story starts abruptly going in a Sylki direction, even with only 3 episodes left, I will certainly be the first to say so lol. But I simply sincerely, truly doubt that'll happen.

(Hot take in the footer: this is not the post to get into this at length, but in case this comes up… In this house we do not use the word "queerbaiting." It is a useless, nearly-meaningless, insufferable term that devalues the legitimacy of subtext and queercoding more often than not; it's rooted in the idea that media must hit arbitrary and inconsistent checklists often set with cishet approval in mind; and it perpetuates a focus on the false and harmful myth that many creators are "cowards" instead of leaving room for nuance and the fact that industry censorship still exists.)

[ikarasu]

Little Tin Man

Post Lies of P

SFW, slight angst, spoilers

Oh, little tin man the sun has risen

It’s a beautiful day to enjoy the rain

The soft melody of pitter and patters

The symphony has only just begun

Rain. It reminds me of the of first night I arrived at the Hotel Krat. Only back then I didn’t mind it as much as I do now. I couldn’t feel the cold biting at my skin or the way my clothes and hair would cling onto it. I was so unaware and ignorant of everything. Even now I feel the softness beneath the tips of my fingers. The soft rumbling and warmth seeping out of a resting Spring on my lap. There’s so many things I didn’t notice before and now I can’t help but be conscious of all of these sensations. It’s all so overwhelming and confusing that my gears can’t help but stutter. I can feel the weight of my gear sinking me down, the softness of my clothes, every little hair that tickles my face, and every hit I take. Yet, it doesn’t stop there. I can feel such strong palpitations of joy when I see Eugénie or Spring. The grinding of my gears when I feel agitation from Gemini’s badly timed comments. It aches so much every time I think of everything that’s happened. Even now I feel like my body is being weighed down by an invisible force.

Oh, little tin man has come to dance

Splashing and jumping in the puddles

Unknowing of the dangers that comes with rain

Blinded by his own performance

I’ve lost so much and I can’t help but linger in my Father’s office. Staring out the window as I sit in his chair. What is he to me now? A father? A creator? A memory? Or a liar? Thinking about it now makes the world seem to move slowly. The sounds of the rain seem to blend in to the background the more I think. I turn the chair around and stare at the portrait in the corner. It’s kind of bitter now how I seem to mirror the face of young Carlo. I can’t help but let out a soft sigh as I sink into the chair more. Carlo…. My hand instinctively moves to my chest where my P organ pulses. The memories seen on the beach replays in my mind. All so familiar but so unfamiliar to me and it leaves my gears more restless than usual. These are not my own memories…. They’re not mine. I didn’t walk his steps, cry his tears, live every laugh, and yet, I am told they’re mine. But I know they belong to him, the one on the wall, the boy who I now wear his face, the one everyone wants back. Yet, here I am to disappoint all of them.

Oh, little tin man your time is here

The rain was never your friend

By now it’s too late to turn back

Feel the rust petrify your gears

Romeo was not my friend, he was his. My friends are here at the hotel. The ones I made and got to live those intimate moments to call my own. Yet, the ergo in my veins pulls me in directions that aren’t my own choice. Maybe deep down I wanted this. To free myself from all ties to him. But I want to tear my chest out and finally quiet down everything. It drives me insane now that I’m so conscious of everything. Knowing that the boy on the wall is what he wanted all along. Spending all of these days and evenings staring at that miserable face. He did everything for him, I was never supposed to make it this far. I was never on his mind as anything more than a puppet. I’ve killed and traveled through hell for something that never existed. Oh, how foolish and naive was I? Yet, even now I feel myself and the ergo in my veins cry for that man. I can’t even tell if this is my own will or not. I don’t even know what I can say was myself.

Oh, little tin man you’re going to drown

The crimson rust spreading inside

Hollowing out your chest

Little tin man, where is your heart now?

A crash of thunder shakes me out of my thoughts. Spring no longer on my lap and the fire in the fireplace had long died out. My eyes meet with those on the wall once more and only one thought ran across my mind.

Oh, little tin man frozen in time

If you could reverse the clock

Would you do it all again?

Oh, little tin man

“I wish my heart was my own.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I’m back, baby, freed from school! Looking forward to writing more.