#it feels disrepectful though

[the-roc-pile]

Hrmmmmm.... I have a very silly idea... a very silly idea where I take this batch of characters I have and make an AU where they are all in charge of the Welcome Home Restoration Project instead of an AU where they are inside of Welcome Home (by @partycoffin).

To be honest (as I cannot be Frank in this context) I don't know how much of this is that psychology personable fable versus my child me who feels the need to act drastically different as I can feel I am moderately different but no one else seemed to pick up on it but either way the thought is worming!

Lol I have three pages of filled notebook paper --including some relationship diagrams-- and about 600 typed-up words about the concept already and it's only an hour old! I thought of it an hour ago and I have generated so many things about it but I must go to bed : / sadly I have courses. I'll see if the idea is still going tomorrow or if I dream about it (I hope so it will give me Ideas).

[inbloomwriting]

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

[hellaversity]

Look, I can understand where people are coming from when they criticize the portryal of the female characters in Helluva Boss.

But extending that same criticism to Hazbin Hotel is where I draw the fucking line.

Hazbin literally has a female protagonist with her own independant goal, who has to work hard for it because people constantly belittle her ideas and beliefs, and eventually gets proven right when it works in the end. Charlie tried to do what was thought impossible, and accomplished it when Sir Pentious gets ascended to heaven. Her love interest has her own backstory before meeting Charlie, where she used to work for the same exorcists who are responsible for nearly driving Charlie's people to extinction and almost making her fail to redeem anyone at the hotel. Vaggie kept this a secret from Charlie since they met, and Charlie feels betrayed by Vaggie to the point of not feeling like she should trust her anymore until it gets resolved. Vaggie has more characterizarion in season 1 of Hazbin alone than Millie does in the entirety of Helluva Boss pre-Hell's Belle's.

Lute is one of the main antagonists. She contributed just as much to the genocide as Adam did, is openly bigoted like Adam, has more common sense than Adam, is the only exorcist with a name, is just as much of a threat to the hotel as Adam is and most of all she survives while he doesn't. Sera approved of the genocide, but felt guilty about it because Adam would've probably killed her or something, which Emily calls her out on regardless. Speaking of Emily, she joins Charlie in on calling heaven out for their hypocrisy and literally says she detests being treated like a child.

Velvette is no less evil than the other two Vees. She sells love potions (aka date rape drugs) and treats her employees cruelly just like they do. She also disrepected the other overlords without giving two shits. Carmilla wasn't having any of Velvette's BS, is protective of Zestial, literally killed an exorcist (despite angels being much more powerful than demons, so that's pretty impressive on it's own) to protect her daughters and figured out that Vaggie was a fallen angel just by knowing what her choice of weapon was. She encouraged Vaggie to fight for the whole hotel, not just for Charlie. Cherri Bomb has an interesting rivalry with Sir Pentious in the pilot that eventually grows into a healthy relationship, and she goes against Valentino just to help and comfort Angel Dust in the Addict music video. Sadly she doesn't do much after that, but at least she got to participate in fighting for the hotel in The Show Must Go On, so it's better than nothing I suppose.

Rosie is one of the few people who Alastor has a genuine friendship with. She played a big part in Charlie trying to give a speech to Cannibal Town, and encouraged her to trust Vaggie again. Mimzy, while I dislike her, is the whole reason why the plot of Dad Beat Dad even happened. She tried to use her friendship with Alastor to get herself out of trouble, so the episode techically wouldn't of happened without her. It's also telling that Alastor didn't eat her or try to kill her for screwing things up, since he's done just that to others for much less. Even Niffty, who's mostly just there for comic relief, is another character who Alastor gets along with. He may own her soul, but he's a lot nicer to her than he is to Husk, who he keeps on a chain and abuses in a not-so-different way that Valentino does to Angel Dust, only without SA involved. Niffty is also the one who kills Adam in the end, so there you go.

That's a BUNCH more than what can be said for most of the ladies in Helluva. (Most of whom I also like, but their writing really does leave something to be desired, though it does seem to be slightly improving with the Hell's Belles short and the promise of a Millie focused episode in Ghostfuckers.) For the record I don't think the writing for the female characters in HH is perfect by any means, but it's a far cry from being anywhere near as bad as HB like many antis claim it is. I think they just say that shit because HB takes place in the same universe as Hazbin and both shows were created by the same person, (aka the guilt by association fallacy) or they just think Vivzie can't do anything right no matter what she does.

[atlasxspeaks]

Background: Inspired by @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie Secret Mating Nocorro AU where they mate after the final battle, and Ronal finds out leading to everyone finding out. She calls an entire meeting between elders, Jake, Neytiri, Mo’at, Norm, and Max to discuss how to break the bond. Some elders and Mo’at don’t think they should intervene at all, but Neytiri and Ronal are furious, deeply bothered by the idea that Eywa would allow a human to experience something as sacred as a mating bond. Neteyam is forced to attend this meeting, but Spider doesn’t because he’s not mentally well enough. Neteyam finally snaps at everyone after Jake, in an attempt to mediate, says that Neteyam will just stay away from Spider until the bond dissolves.

—————————————————————

“I won’t.”

Mo’at ears perk up in surprise at her grandson’s defiance. Neteyam has never been a child known to defy his parents anything; he was always obedient and respectful. His body shows no signs of anger, but his eyes hold contempt to a degree she has never seen. Jake and all the other elders in the hut also seem surprised by the boy’s refusal.

“Boy, -”

“Don’t call me that,” Neteyam snaps back, sitting up straighter against the hut’s wall and looking his father dead on, “Don’t treat me like a disrepectful child. Like I’m being unreasonable.”

Jake looks as though Neteyam had struck him, and for all it matters, he might as well have. Mo’at can see contempt in his eyes, and it seems to be verging on hate. Hate is something no son should feel toward their father. She wants to reach out to her grandson to stop him, comfort him even, to do anything to stop what she fears is coming, but she is frozen by that look in his eyes.

Neteyam stands, swaying a bit from the position change. He is still weak from being shot but strong enough to move with some assistance. He looks around the hut, first at his mother and then at the rest of them, his gaze falling directly on Ronal.

“You all stand here and judge me for my choices as if you know anything about me. And you judge Spider as if any of you even know him beyond him being human. You talk of controlling my future as if you are Eywa herself and I have had enough! I mated Spider, and it will remain that way!”

“Neteyam-” Jake moves towards his son, but he pushes Jake back.

“No! I have had enough of you!”

Everyone bulks at that. No Navi child has ever talked down to their parents; it simply doesn’t happen. Mo’at feels a familiar feeling of dread pool in her stomach. The look in Neteyam’s eyes has only grown darker.

“All my life, I have done nothing but obey you,” Neteyam speaks softly now, poking Jake in the chest before grabbing his war vest. “I have been nothing but be an obedient son, a protective brother, a perfect heir. Every rule you have given me, I have followed.” A tear falls from Neteyam’s eye, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the hut’s ceiling. He looks like he’s rallying himself to speak again. Mo’at fears that whatever he says next will be the worst thing yet.

“And what has it gotten me?”

“I have no home. I can barely walk. Kiri has no friends. Lo’ak nearly died multiple times, and Tuk can barely sleep without nightmares. I followed you without complaint when you made me leave my home. I obeyed you when you ordered me not to go after Spider, and I trusted you when you said they would not hurt him. And now, he can barely speak! He cannot sleep, he cannot eat! I trusted you when you said he would be safe and he is a shell! I have no mate because of you!”

“I have done everything you have ever asked and it has gotten me NOTHING!”

“…I am done obeying you.”

Neteyam lets go of Jake’s vest with a finality that takes all the breath out of Mo’at lungs. His eyes no longer hold all the anger and contempt they once did, the tears he’s cried washing those emotions away in streaks down his face. Now his eyes just look empty. His gaze moves away from his father to the rest of the room.

“Spider is my mate. It is done. If you will not have us here, then we will go somewhere else.”

Mo’at wishes she could be proud of the level of emotions her normally reserved grandson is showing, but she cannot be. Neteyam is finally coming into his own at the cost of his relationship with his parents. How could she not have seen this coming?

———

Not my best but I got inspired from the scene in Outerbanks season 3 where Sarah yells at Ward for all the bad things he’s don’t and what she lost because of him and I think Neteyam and Jake dynamic would mirror theirs but in a less abusive way is he mated and refused to leave Spider behind.

[mmhcs]

Miles Morales x Reader w/ Body Image Issues

Miles, ever the oblivious, doesn't immediately catch on. Every time he sees you, he's just absolutely taken aback at the fact that you agreed to be with him. Like, damn. He really bagged you. He's dating you. Wow. Just wow.

When he finally does catch on, though, Miles is a little stumped. Because why? What's making you feel like this? Whenever he looks at you, he malfunctions. Do you not see the chokehold you have him in?

Following his discovery, Miles begins to slowly help you feel more comfortable in your body. He starts with simple, subtle things (i.e. hugging you from behind, unconsciously placing his head or massaging areas that you feel insecure about, more compliments here and there).

This boy is your #1 Hype Man. Like, literally. That's his title. Whenever y'all go out, he' acts like that one friend in the group that's taking all the pictures while hyping you up in the process.

"You got it!" "Okay, okay, I see you, baby!" "You got it, baby!" "That's my baby!" "Stunt on 'em!" "Pose! Pose!"

Every time you get dressed up, Miles will let you know how amazing you look. You don't even have to be dressed up all fancy either; y'all are going to the park? Baby boy has his hand wrapped glued around your waist. Going shopping? Every time he sees a relatively scenic spot, he pulls you over for a photoshoot. You're going to try thngs on? Best believe he's right there, in the dressing room with you, telling you do a spin, a twirl, giving you colors suggestions (he sneaks pictures of you in there, too)

If you like working out, Miles would join you some days. (I totally see him on the floor, doing pilates with you and/or screaming when it's time for resistance band workouts).

"Why is it so tight!" "That's the light one, Miles. And keep your back straight!"

Other days, though, Miles would just watch you, secretly snapping photos of you from behind (he likes to see you in workout gear). He doesn't post them, but he has a lil' album in his phone labeled "Bae" that he adds to every weekend.

He doesn't stand any negative self-talk! Don't do it! Baby boy will put you in your place real quick!

"I mean, yeah, I'm cute but...I could be better." "Excuse me? What'd you just say about my baby? You wanna say that again? Don't let hear you disrepect 'em like that ever again."

Miles most definitely does that trend where he makes a Playboy sweater of you for him to wear. He surprises you one day by wearing it and you're sitting there, looking at him, he's just smiling.

"Oh? My sweater? You like? It's custom made." "I look fresh as hell right now!" "You like the drip?"

Miles wears it around the house so much to the point where it's just his automatic go-to outfit whenever he's home. He's not afraid to wear it out in public, but he asks your permission before doing so.

All-in-all, Miles is your cheerleader and #1 Hype Man. He faints at the sight of you, but he'll get back up real quick if he hears you criticizing yourself.

[ghostaholics]

𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆

PAIRING(S): Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader (established situationship but this is a very short stand-alone drabble) SUMMARY: Simon’s had enough. Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a little shit; maybe you should’ve shut your mouth the first time he suggested it. WARNING(S): unprotected p-in-v-sex; sub/dom elements; panty-gagging; reader is bratty; references to anal but no actual attempt included; my complete and utter disrepect of proper grammar rules

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

❝ FUCK ME. ❞

It’s hissed between clenched teeth, impatient. You mean it as a snide comment, to get under his skin.

Bold, considering that he's got you ostensibly trapped under him, the solid weight of him pinning you down as he straddles the back of your thighs, flattening your front against the mattress. He'd guided you into position easily enough: on your stomach, face down.

“Aren’t I?” His tone is untroubled, unhurried. As though he’s not fully seated inside you – and he has been, for quite some time actually, without moving, merely keeping himself nestled in the warmth of your cunt like he doesn't have any other intentions beyond that. The only thing worse than when he's mean is when he's indifferent; can't be bothered to care. You can deal with a pissed off Simon, not whatever the hell this is. It doesn't even have anything to do with what he wants; it’s only about teaching you a lesson.

You'd wanted to feel the drag of his cock through your walls, to feel him thrust so deep it'd practically kissed your cervix – a constant reminder of the sheer size of him. Completely full, taking him to the hilt.

And he had done that, hadn't he? But then he fucking stayed there. Agonizingly still.

Simon husks a warning in your ear: “Don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands, sweetheart. We're gonna have to do something about this mouth – gag you, maybe."

You huff out your annoyance. “Wouldn’t do either of us any favors. Especially since you like me loud.”

"I don't mind change," he says. "Besides, still got plenty of other holes to fill in the meantime."

"You actually gonna do something about it, or is it all talk and no show?"

“Maybe learn some bloody patience.”

It flies out of you without much thought. “Be a better teacher then.”

Ah, shit—

“Christ, fuckin’ shut up," Simon finally snaps, tired of your input.

Yeah, that did it.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see his arm reach for your panties that'd already been discarded earlier. Ever the improviser, Simon scrunches it up in his fist to ensure that it's tamped down to the perfect size. Not that it hadn't already been small in the first place, but it'll be easier to take now.

You make a small, little noise of astonishment. If it weren't for practice, you might've choked; you've had to swallow him before, relax your throat to accommodate the entirety of his cock, so it makes almost no difference when there's something else stuffing you full like this.

It's a measly scrap of fabric, thin and delicate – lace clamped between teeth, filling the cavern of your mouth. You should feel scandalized. After all, it'd already been soaked from the way he'd edged you earlier, liquid pooling onto the material so profuse that it'd been allowed to gather, accumulate, saturate.

You’d been thoroughly drenched.

Now your own arousal sits on your tongue, wet and heavy, and sweet.

Heat blooms across your face. Fuck, you shouldn't be turned on. This is humiliating. He's making you taste yourself the way he'd done (when he'd eaten you out, buried his face into the heat of your cunt and coaxed enough orgasms from you to leave you shaking) except this is in a far more degrading fashion.

You'd probably be adamant about that belief if it wasn't for the sudden gush of slickness now coating your inner thighs where you and Simon are joined together.

Small dribbles of saliva begin to leak out of the corners of your mouth. You’re forced to breathe through your nose, inhale deeply.

And, great.

All you can taste and smell is yourself. There's nothing in your empty fucking head but white noise. Static – a majority of your senses devastated by Simon; you relinquish control over to him, a surrender of some sort. Every single nerve ending is overwhelmed.

“I like you better this way. Should've done this ages ago."

Your moan is muffled, unintelligible. You're not even entirely sure what you had to say.

"Yeah, exactly," he agrees. Like the bastard he is.

Simon's touch is heavy, searing everything he comes into contact with. His fingers travel down the curve of your spine; they're conscientious, wandering over the expanse of your skin – purposeful – trailing further south (more), right to your ass where that tight ring of muscle is waiting for him, empty. “So now that I’ve got your mouth and cunt occupied, what do you think I should do with this, sweetheart?”

[pandorasfavorite]

Fluff request!!

Based off the new video where that talk about Dom being a picky eater and only eating chicken tenders; How about one where the reader cooks for Dom but notices he barely eats it because he doesn’t like it. The reader gets upset but then he explains why and she thinks it’s kinda cute so from then on she always cooks things he will eat?

Picky Eater

AN: I live for constructive criticism to feel free. BUT DON'T BE DISREPECTFUL, (I ain't never been scared to bitch a bitches ass. I may seem nice now but I wouldn't test it). Not directed to the person that requested, they are a beautiful soul ❤

This is your 5th date with Dominik, You like him a lot but maybe you haven't noticed his eating habits. You've both only been out to eat twice so of course you're not staring at his plate to see what he likes. Today you message Dom and ask him if he has any plans, when he said no you insisted on making him dinner. Dominik sounded nervous from the other end of the phone, stuttering over his words for a second when you mentioned food. "That's okay right?", you ask unsure, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder while you chop up vegetables. Dominik nods aphresenvie; almost forgetting he wasn't talking to you in person. "Yea-yea sounds good", he exhales like it is hard to murmur.

Your face resembles confusion, "Okay", you say dragging the word out like you don't exactly believe him. "I'll see you later then", your a little unsure but you decide to ultimately let it go. Dominik usually doesn't say when he disagrees with something, but food of all things? You can't wrap your head around Dominik's tone of voice. You shake it off placing your phone on the counter beside you after hanging up. You hum a song chopping at the variety of vegetables and greens. The meal you spent 2 hours on is actually nothing special, you made soup for the cold weather outside. Something you assumed he would appreciate after being outside in the cold.

The knock on the door makes you scramble around the table, doing the last touches to dinner, all just to open the door to Dominik. He's dressed for the cold weather outside in a long-sleeved shirt, waiting outside of the door with a small bouquet. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, rocking on the back of his heels. "Flowers aren't in season so this is all they had", he looks at the flowers; then at you He hopes and prays that you love the flowers even though it's old-fashioned. You pull Dominik inside the house by his shirt, pulling him against your body, your lips right there. "I love them", his eyes glint, "You do?" he asks staring at your lips. You nod, grabbing the flowers and putting them into an empty vase you found in a cabinet.

You run up behind Dominik covering his eyes from behind to your best ability. It's hard considering he's so tall but you manage. You walk forward pushing and aiding him along to the table. You pull your hands off his face dramatically, standing at the table with your hands out, "Ta-da!". You're so excited for him to try something you made personally. Dominik is surprised to say the least, he pulls out of your seat and as you sit down he kisses the side of your head. "Babe this is great", you gleam at his appreciation, his words of affirmation are what you thrive off of. Dominik sits close to you, swirling his spoon in his soup. Playing with it.

You slurp on the soup, looking up from your spoon to see that Dominik hasn't taken a bite yet. At first, you have no reaction, more so you are just trying to see what Dominik is getting at here. Dominik doesn't realize you are looking at him, he keeps pushing the vegetables to the side while staring into the bowl like it is antagonizing him. "Is everything okay?", you ask him with the tilt of your head, starting to feel rejection coming. Dominik snaps out of it almost immediately. "Yes!", he puts his hand out across the table and waits for you to slip your hand into his.

He looks up at you, his eyes flickering to his bowl and then back to you. You stare at him in expectation, waiting for him to take a bite, and to try the food you spent so long on. Even though the food didn't have anything special in it, the meaning behind it did. You made it for Dominik. Dominik scoops up the soup and puts it into his mouth. He swallows quickly trying to mask how he is feeling. Dominiks face screws up in disgust and he takes a sip of his drink too quickly.

You felt so rejected and upset. Your boyfriend doesn't like the cooking that you spend so much time on. Over everything you are embarrassed... too embarrassed to be around him right now. Looking at Dominik and his disgusted face makes your cheeks burn painfully and the sensation brings a wave of tears to your eyes. Your lungs feel like they are squeezing together and you take your hand out of Dominiks. You let your head fall, and the moment you blink a tear runs down your flushed cheek. You stand up; the chair shrieking against the floor, and you wipe your face with the back of your hand.

Dominik stands up immediately, panicked; knowing he fucked up by not telling you first. You rush out an apology wiping your face again, "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying, I should've known you wouldn't have liked it. I added way too many peppers". Dominik never moved so fast. He doesn't want to mess up something that is just now beginning. He knocks into the chair at how fast he moved to get to you. You are still going on a ramble and rant about how you fucked up and ruined dinner, how 'you should've thought it through better'.

Dominik holds your face in his hands shaking his head no at you, "Stop". You break off wanting to continue, 'but I-', Dominik shakes his head no again, wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs, "Stop". You lift your hands to hold his on your face, comforted by his touch...no matter how embarrassed. You close your eyes for a moment leaning into one of his hands, taking a deep breath.

You exhale shaikly, "I'm so sorry. I ruined dinner", you feel a fresh wave of tears at what you believe. Dominik leans down and kisses your lips tenderly just for a moment, "Open your eyes for me", he says sweetly like you are fragile. You do as he says opening your eyes, worried at what he will say. "It's not your fault. It's mine", you furrow your eyebrows and look at him quizzically, feeling the disagreeance build up in your throat ready to be expressed. Dominik shakes his head no one more time, silencing your confusion, "I'm a picky eater". Your mouth drops comically like you can't even believe it. You push Dominik's hands off your face, stepping back with your mouth still parted.

"You're joking", You cover your mouth with your eyes wide and a smile almost forming on your face. Dominik throws his hands up and smiles at you, the 'big secret' is out of the bag. You cover your face with both hands; laughing into them. You laugh until you can't breathe clutching your side. You look up at Dominik from where you hunched over only to laugh more. Dominik laughs a little too and comes towards you, grabbing you and trying to tickle you while gritting out his response. "It's not that funny", you laugh and curl into yourself at Dominik's ruthless attack, "No it really is!", you peel off of him and run through the house. Looking over your shoulder to see his shining smile knocking your breath away.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

He should tell her to go back to the kit-I mean, be more "supportive and empathetic" like the absolute doormat of a person they make Katara out to be in their fanfics.

Elaborate. Examples. I'm intrigued.

I mean it's pretty simple. For all their talk of "Zutara is the best because Zuko embraces Katara's 'dark' side and righteous fury", Zutarians cannot handle it when Katara is mad or even slightly annoyed at Zuko. They need to make her a doormat or pretend it's "only her trying to repress her feelings." And it's not even just in the fanfics either.

She's mad that he's using her mother's necklace to blackmail her, and then threatening to destroy it? Nah, she's turned on that he tied her to tree against her will and is "proposing" to her since the necklaces work as engagement rings (nevermind that even Katara herself doesn't know about that).

She left him to die in the North Pole? Whaaaaat? No, that can't be right. She was totally always kind and merciful to him, and not only willing to hear him out, but also just trusting that he had good reason to do what he did! It's all right there in the alternative version of the show that I watched!

She's lashing out at him for daring to expect her to cool with him like everyone else was, even though he stabbed her in the back in Ba Sing Se, leading to the death of her best friend, and then after she healed said best friend Zuko then sent an assassin after them? Nah, she's not angry at HIM, it's misplaced anger that she actually feels towards her mother's killer and is projecting onto poor Zuzu just 'cause he's from the Fire Nation (fuck the writers for that terrible narrative choice). In fact, she's only "mad" because he LEFT her, and she's confused because he's "like an ex she still has feelings for" (actual words I had to read with my own eyes).

And of course, as Fire Lady, she'd be sooooo much more easy going than that demaning bitch of a girlfriend Mai was. She'd never "force" Zuko to *checks notes* ask the servants for dessert. She'd also never be unreasonable enough to *checks notes again* get mad at him if he doesn't trust her and assume she's gonna cheat on him with a guy she explicitly told him she's fully indifferent towards.

No, no, instead, "Katara", would be always siding with him, even against the interest of her own family and tribe. She'd ditch her traditions and stop wearing blue. She'd be Zuko's gilfriend AND therapist - and she'll be a girlboss while at it, because she'll be Fire Lady and thus have power over people she feels no connection to.

All of that in gratitude to Zuko - after all, he saved her from her role as the Gaang's cinderella! She used to do everything by herself (which is why we ignore how TOPH was the first one to disrepect the rule of EVERYONE HAS TO CONTRIBUITE).

So yeah, Zutarians cannot handle Katara's character at all. They just want her to shut up and look pretty next to Zuko.

[alloutofgoddesses]

Percy Jackson TV Thoughts

Episode 5

(There will be book spoilers you have been warned)

I KNEW THE FATES WOULD BE HERE OMG

Him climbing over the railing lol

OUT THE GATE OKAY

Just a reminder Grover can read emotions. I wonder what the fuck he just read lol

Percy for four episodes: Fuck my dad he’s a piece of shit Percy immediately after being saved by his dad: My dads gonna help us uwu

Oh Percy. I don’t blame you you’re new to this thing

Oh nooo Percy your dad dies love you in his strange immortal way

Bike you say

Not the teasing ☠️ Percy that’s your future wife

Well not exactly… it is a warning but it doesn’t mean you’re going to die Annabeth

Hell yeah Percy keep up that spirit

HE’S HEREEEEEEE

Their little heads popping up over the barrier

Oh my gods he’s amazing

RIP Twitter we’ll always love you

That’s absolutely what Ares would be doing in the modern age too

GABE! THERE HE IS

…you’re not Percy. Your mother however-

Annabeth what happened to your healthy fear of the gods

Kronos mention

Flight of stairs AGAIN… what kind of theme are we setting up here

Sassy power couple

That’s such a Percy face Walker Scobell you will always be famous

You got this Grover!

Oh fuck that

PERCY WANTING TO SHOW ANNABETH MOVIES? OH IT’S SO OVER

Percy it is funny

Annabeth now is not the time to nerd out over mechanical engineering

As always they’re so perfect

SOLSTICE TIME

Wait what?

Ooooh Grover is playing the long game I see

None of y’all can ever say Oercy is stupid again I swear to god(s)

It lit up? Oh boy oh boy

MEME WARNING OH MY

Vibes though Hephaestus

Omg the Hera animation

~baby don’t hurt me~

Annabeth recognizing Sally wanted Percy to be different… don’t touch me

HE SAVED HER! AGAIN!!

Can’t wait to see screen grabs of the mosaics

“I hate my own kids” AAAAHHHHH

Is Grover on to Ares?

ATHENA TALKS TO AN OWL I CANNOT

Grover has to be on to Ares

Every single person in this trio is so smart

SEAWEED BRAIN

I am. Inconsolable.

I’m about to start doing zoomies around my dorm like my cat

I could rip apart a car with my bare hands rn

SHE WANTS TO SAVE HIS MOM I’M JSHDJSKSKA

“You think you had to ask” “Just making sure” how will I EVER survive more seasons of this

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m-“ THE WAY HE’S REASSURING HER OH THEY’RE TAKING IT

SHE’S TRYING TI FIGURE OUT THE GEARS IM GINNA EXPLODE

HEPHAESTUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE FLUTE OMG

As a cane user I love how prominent Hephaestus’ cane is displayed it makes me feel warm inside

HE’S HER FRIEND! SHE’S DISREPECTING GODS TO SAVE HIM!

Oh Hephaestus you’re my second favorite Olympian (Hestia 4evr)

ANNABETH!!!!!

“He isn’t that way. He’s better than that…” THE SOULMATISM

YEAH BABEY

The tears in her eyes I CAN’T

He’s gonna talk to Athena I love Hephaestus so much

Ares I see that disappointed look

Okay got Hermes hanging out in the Lotus Casino… don’t ask me how but that does feel right like it makes sense

Who needs to summon Hermes he’s right here (My cat is named Hermes and he’s sitting right next me)

Oh yeah Percy get in that God’s face and threaten him it certainly won’t have any repercussions

“The emotional abuse” GROVER UNDERWOOD

There’s creatures in there

Wait. Are they setting up Clarisse as a red herring? THE WRITERS MINDS

Teaser

IRIS MESSAGE

Wait there’s so many adults in the Lotus… what are they all doing in there

I have heard the rumours that ep. 6 will be a musical (simply because LMM is there and it’s the mostly likely one to do that) and while I don’t think they would it would be funny

[batbeato]

What are your thoughts on genderbending characters, particularly in regards to Umineko?

It's one of my favorite tropes, but I know that a lot of people don't feel comfortable with it, whether they find it disrepectful to the lgbtq+ communities or some other reason. Likewise, though, if not done with care in regards to a character's personality and circumstances, the opposite - making an au where a character (who isn't canonically, or it isn't known) is transgender - can be equally offensive.

Considering the matter of a person's physical sex, the interpretation of gender in Umineko, I'm curious how you would perceive it - especially since both 'tropes' can be used in tandem - and 1) I really really liked the way you portrayed Jessie and Yukari's situation in the story carries on' and 2) the fem Black Battler fic. Poor Battler, but Still. It was good!

I figured if anyone knew how to handle the matter tactfully, and in respect to the characters personality's and the situation, and the topic of being transgender vs outright genderbending, it would be you.

With genderbending I feel like it depends on context, what you want to do with it, and what you do with it. (Also I'm glad you liked those fics!)

In a lot of WTC works, characters have interesting relationships with gender (and sometimes sexuality) that can make genderbending more complicated. For example, genderbending Jessica to be a guy can be interesting. She feels pressured to get a boyfriend, but also feels like the reason why she doesn't have one is because she's too tomboyish and abrasive. She also has to deal with her mother wanting her to be a proper lady and find a nice (read: wealthy and powerful) husband for her. If Jessica was a man, 'he' may have more similar experiences to George - the looming prospect of an arranged marriage, the expectation to be the family Head rather than to marry man to be the Head, etc. His attitude may be construed as general laziness or lack of interest rather than tomboyish behavior. If someone is just drawing art of what they think a genderbent Jessica would look like, they don't need to delve into these aspects, but if someone wanted to write about Jessica, they'd need to consider these things.

This also becomes more complicated when you want to do ship content with a genderbend, because how the characters may be different would interact with how they see each other and potentially affect their dynamic. For example, Beatrice/Sayo's attraction to Battler may take on new rich connotations if Battler is a woman and not a man, or if Sayo conceptualized Beatrice as a male sorcerer rather than a female witch.

With regards to genderbends, I really like seeing art of them! And it would be nice to see more writing, too. I think people become worried about them because of how they can be used to erase the queerness of mlm or wlw ships, but I've known friends who like genderswapping their wlw ships to wlm from time to time. In the end I think we can't toss the trope out in general, or even when it's a mlm/wlw -> wlm swap, because sometimes people just want to explore things. Something being wlm can mean that they're still queer - bisexual, pan, etc. - but maybe in a different way.

...People also probably remember the "what if the story was all the same except this character was a GIRL" stories that had a lot of self-insert action, stereotypes, and poor writing from the olden days of fandom. But I think that's a quality and writing issue, not a general genderbend issue.

As for a character being transgender, I think it also needs to be done with care and thought put into it, the same way a genderbend might need. If a character is transgender, how will others feel about it? What sort of medical care will they be able to receive in their setting? Will they be closeted, socially transition, etc.? Depending on the setting, it might not be possible for that character to receive gender-affirming care. It might not even be possible for that character to "pass" as the gender they identify as. And that needs to be considered.

For example, if someone has a trans headcanon for an Umineko character, the character may need to leave Japan to receive surgery (I actually found an interesting paper while googling about this). If they're one of the younger characters, like Battler, one needs to consider if their parents will fund or approve, as they would not be able to access gender-affirming care without them. How would other members of the Ushiromiya family - which is shown to hold to strict gender roles and uphold capitalistic, cissexist, patriarchal ideals - react to someone transitioning?

...More specifically with Umineko is if someone wants to genderbend Sayo or one of their personas. I think that can be a difficult task, because of how complex Sayo's gender is, but I don't think it's impossible or should be disallowed, so long as people are willing to delve into the complexities of what it would mean for any particular genderbend. I'm not entirely sure about the idea of CAFAB Sayo transitioning to masculinity, due to how AFAB Sayo was used to make BeaBato and WillLion as cishet as possible in the past, but I think that so long as such a headcanon is coupled with queer exploration it's fine, albeit a bit touchy for me (perhaps a more subjective worry than objective, though).

For an example of a possible Sayo genderbend, bending Beatrice to be a man could be used to delve into more Sayo-Kinzo parallels, or conceptualize a more masc-leaning, or genderfluid, or nonbinary depiction of Sayo.

...In the end it's just about doing what you like, not minimizing the queer aspects as a result, and exploring what would happen if a character was a different gender all along or was transgender. It's about putting the work in to make me believe in you and your respect for the cast.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

hey baba how are we feeling

[snsjskskks hopefully it's obvious enough that that's a baba looking away lmao]

NOT ACTUALLY MAD JUST DISAPPOINTED. I mean especially about Nick cause Close really truly is my favorite character in the show but ah I can be happy still for the Hermie fans honestly they were way more tame than I expected (perhaps cause Hermie was always in the lead lol)- can't say the same for some of his earlier competitors' fans who were DISREPECTING MY BOY. I really genuinely do feel inclined to write up some rambles on the Close boys now though haha Lots of thoughts on their relationship I simply didn't have the motivation to compile but NOW!? Now I want the world to be emo about Nick the way I am lmao. 👏 No one is doing tragedy like Nick Close you hear me NO ONE.

Grant's loss is crazy to me though CRAZY like listen I for sure think Nick deserved the W but I also knew what to expect when I saw his competition but Grant shoulda been a NO-BRAINER as far as I'm concerned lol. Fuck, but genuine congrats to you Erin freaks though! I mean, I do still like Erin plenty lol.

Okay hold up imma head over to your inbox Sei one sec lmao

[aikoiya]

DP HC - The Power of Grief

I just came across a very interesting idea from a prompt by @confusedlittlebastard. They had the idea of someone giving Danny & Ellie graves & it actually doing something for them.

I think it's a really cool idea. Like, of course they wouldn't necessarily need them unless it's a Corpse AU as they don't have corpses to bury otherwise.

It also makes sense that they wouldn't think that they'd need them because of this.

When I think about it, it'd make sense if having a well-kept, frequently visited grave, an unmarked grave, or even no grave at all, would do something to a ghost. If only psychologically.

I'm not sure what it'd do, but I'll think on it & see what I can come up with.

Though, I feel like I'd edit the death date that @confusedlittlebastard put on Ellie's gravestone, personally. As even though she was created as a half-ghost, I kinda hc that she legit died in D-Stabilized. So, I'd make that her death date myself. But that's just me.

Edit: I suppose that having a grave would give a ghost a sense of not being totally forgotten. That they had an affect on the world, even if it was a small one.

I suppose that they wouldn't necessarily need a specific burial. Like, a basic grave with their name would do or even being just another name on a monument, but if the individual had a specific burial in mind, such as being cremated & scattered at sea; then if said burial was done, then it would bring the ghost a sense of fulfillment & feeling of being acknowledged or respected.

On the other hand, not having a proper grave at all could cause quite a few psychological problems. Whether it be ghostly depression or anger issues.

I mean, aside from the psychological issues already present in just being a ghost to begin with. So, the issues would sorta compound.

@kaezer suggested that "Perhaps having a grave offers the ghost some closure. For a ghost with no unfinished business, the moment their grave is closed they pass on. Whereas a ghost with unfinished business would linger without the closure of a grave, even if they achieved their obsession. Thoughts?"

I think that's part of it, but I believe that it's still possible for ghosts to move on even without a grave. It's just that, having one, & especially being buried in the place they wanted or beside who they wanted or having the burial they wanted. Those sorts of things make passing on exponentially, incrementally easier.

It's just that, when they don't have a grave, they have to learn to be able to let that go & it can be hard being able to acknowledge that there was no one who missed them & actually find a way to be, if not okay, then not tormented by it.

It's similar to the Right of Retribution, where it is legally a ghost's right to want their murderer taken care of in whatever way they deem necessary. Whether it be by them being dead or in jail or so crippled that they are unable to harm another person. It is considered, in civilized ghost society, to be a ghost's inalienable right to wish to pursue such.

Again, the ghost CAN move on from it, let it go. But it's extremely difficult as their killer's continued existence or crimes causes direct psychological harm to ghosts.

It's all about ghosts learning to be content/at peace & ready to move on.

It's because of this that places like the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is very important to ghost communities. Especially ones like the one in America where theirs is always well-maintained & treated with utmost reverence. Specifically to the ghosts of soldiers, veterans, & first responders. There's sort of this unwritten rule that such places are NOT to be haunted or disturbed. Those ghosts who do are considered extremely disrepectful & are quickly jailed.

For more, go to my full Ghost Zone Masterlist.

[walkingstackofbooks]

Picard thoughts, now I've finished it:

Season 1 and 2 were really fun, actually! A few things that felt a bit flat, but idk, they did feel very Trek to me at heart. I was gripped throughout, couldn't stop clicking "next epsiode" XD

Season 3.... I got into it by the end, and I was far more okay with the reason for Jack being special than I assumed I was going to be, but still... 🤷‍♀️ definitely not my fav. The first few dragged most definitely.

I was NOT expecting Worf to be my favourite character, like, ever, but I was cheering every time he was on screen tbh, he was fantastic XD

I really like what they did with Seven, though I feel like they could have done more. But seeing that she'd grown into the warmest, most caring human... that was super special 💖💖

(LOVED that even though s2 was highlighting how fucked-up we are in 2024, they never brought in homophobia. Like, it would have been so easy and I'd have understood why they might have, but having that scene where they were pretending to have just got engaged and that just feel so normal, even in the "past" - idk, it was just nice that Raffi and Seven never felt any different from any other couple.)

All the new characters from s1 I really, really loved. Chris, Raffi, Agnes, Soji - ❤️❤️❤️❤️ they were all fantastic.

Most of the time, the callbacks to classic Trek worked very well - possibly a bit much in s3, but only in parts. Overall, there was a hell of a lot of love for Old Trek. Honourable mention to the music cues, cause man, whatever you think about New Trek, they use the themes of TOS, Voy, DS9 etc so well and it's beautiful. The Fleet museum scene - yeaaaa, shivers <3 <3 <3

I do feel like they went a bit too far down the rabbit-hole of "this isn't really a utopia". Idk, I think some of it felt a bit more grimdark-for-the-sake-of-it rather than the DS9 vibe of yes-it's-dark-in-here-but-there's-still-hope

Speaking of DS9 - the changelings and Dominion war legacy.... I honestly *don't* know what to make of that. It was interesting, seeing more of them, and I think some of the new lore might even have some... fun(?) implications to retcon onto what happened in DS9. But also... idk. The fact that Worf was the only DS9 character? I mean I'm sure the Enterprise crew fought in the Dominion war, but it was kind of rough seeing that plot without my guys from DS9.

Not a fan of the continued found-family-is-fine-(but-actually-biological-family-is-Everything) vibes. I had a problem with this in Voyager, wasn't expecting it to show up here ngl :/

Also what the hell was the whole Laris thing?? I mean I liked her as a character, but the romance was absolutely pointless. But also, even though I hated the romance, it felt super disrepectful to not even mention her at the end, given how 'important' she'd been previously?? Like, why was it even needed if they weren't going to do anything with it? (not that i wanted them to do anythign with it but yeah. gahhh)

**Q** however???? Omg, was not expecting it to be quite that gay 😅😅 I was SOBBING at the end of s2 and I've never been /that/ invested in Qcard but it is so real actually. Yeah, that rocked.

I'm sure there's more but overall: FAR better than I expected! I'd heard bad things about it, and TNG is not my favourite Trek at all, so I wasn't looking forward to watching it, but it was, genuinely, quite good. Definitely more than a few bits to be frustrated by, but I guess that's every Trek to be honest, so... yeah. Pleasantly surprised. Thanks, Picard.

[smollmilly]

im begging you to spill kheela's lore im obsessed w the idea

Oh!! Hi!! Kheela is freshly made so I'm still figuring things out as I go but here's what I got so far!

She isn't someone very wealthy and someday she crossed the current mafia around town. Wanting to get rid of any troublemaker, they asked of her 50k dollars or they'd kill her, knowing she never would be able to get that money in a week.

Kheela heard of the Dealer's game and decided to go and play it, completely unaware it was basically russian roulette with a shotgun. She signed the waiver but did not read it prior. Which leads to her getting stuck with the Dealer.

She lost the game on round 3 and right before she'd get killed, she begged for her life basically and made an offer to the Dealer. He quickly figured she did not read the waiver and stated that if he let her live, she basically would be 'his' as the waiver not only states that one cannot hold him responsible for any injuries (though they usually die) but also the moment they sign the waiver, until they die, their life and soul belong to the Dealer.

The deal is simple. She would owe him the amount of a won game (70k roughly) and she would play a double or nothing on her waiver with him. If she wins, she is free. Every time she loses, 70k are added on her debt to him.

Being a gambler, the Dealer accepted. Aaand that's how she's stuck with him for now! Not that she's complaining mind you, she finds him very attractive even if terrifying and she feels safe with him. Never once has he been disrepectful to her! Though he does cheat to make sure she doesn't win her waiver back, the big boy is growing fond of the little woman even if he hates to admit it.

They’re also both freaks so things work out pretty well between them 99% of the time.

[rise-my-angel]

please i’m so curious. please mlord elaborate on your hatred for tlou 2 🙏 (no i definitely don’t have your notifs on idk what you’re talking about haha)

I WAS GONNA SAY

Okay so I will try to sound as rational as possible and not personal, because I really hate that game.

I think it fundamentally ruins everything about the first game. We are not invested in the game because the game play is so good. No one loads up The Last of Us because they are just really excited to walk around and press triangle. They love it, for Joel and Ellie. That relationship is genuinely one of the best father daughter dynamics of its kind. The writing and voice acting is so good that even guys who don't get attached to characters the way fandoms do, feel deeply attached to them. The game doesnt work, if Joel and Ellie dont work.

The entire game is building up to that final sequence though. You know Joel and Ellie so well that no matter what you personally would choose to do, you never question Joels choice in rescuing her. You know why he does it, and why he's right to do it. And Ellie does too.

Ellie went into surgery thinking she would wake up, and she and Joel would get to do all the plans they made before. She didn't know she was going to have to die. So she wakes up, still in the hospital gown, in the back of a car with Joel as he tells her everything went fine and doesn't explain how they got where they are. She knows something went wrong. She knows Joel did something he isn't telling her. And that final scene is all we need. She asks him if he's telling her the truth, and he says yes. Ellie doesn't beleive him. Its in the way she says it. She knows Joel is lying, but she decides in that moment, that she cares more about Joel and her trust in him, then whatever the truth really is. She choose Joel over the truth and makes her peace with the fact that he is lying to her. Because she knows he does it to protect her.

So, TLOU 2 ruins that. Ellie is suddenly blindsighted by Joel lying to her and gets angry that he stole her purpose. Marlene lied and was going to have Ellie killed and told no one on purpose, Joel didn't steal anything, he protected her from a fate she didn't know about nor deserved. So, it breaks their trust and bond to say Ellie suddenly hates Joel for what happened.

The point of the end of the first game, is that she decides she cares more about Joel doing whatever it was to protect her, then the fact that hes lying about what he did at all. Ellie willingly choose Joel over the truth because they love each other. The entire first game breaks, when you suddenly decide Ellie would ever get mad at Joel for resucing the life of the girl who became his daughter.

Then, there is the disrepsect of his death. Now I'm not against Joel dying in general, but the way they did it was so disrepectful that its hard to put into words. The series of events leading to his death were all out of character or very contrived to the point it paints Joel out to be uncharacteristically trusting to the point he comes across as naive.

Then theres the death itself. You can do shocking and violent deaths and be impactful. You know the fandom we're in. But, the difference lets say between the Red Wedding and TLOU 2, is that the violence is not the focus. The violence is overpowered by how shocking it is that it happened, the realization that Robbs own allies lead him into a deadly trap and the horror of watching Catelyn lose her first and last boy, before having no more will to live herself. It's violent, but never so explicit to be shock value. The shock comes from the emotional chaos.

Joels death is shock value. It is violent to the point it is unreasnable. Abby tortures this man before beating him to death with a gold club as they have Ellie screaming in the background all so you feel shocked at what happened. But thats it. The shock is that he was violently beat to death. The shock is the violence. The shock is that they game did not care about giving this beloved character a death that mattered. They only cared about making it as brutal as possible. I remember when I played it, I sat in silence for almost two minutes before just going "Yeah..okay." Then continuing on. And it happens as the inciting incident, not the culmination of an arc he and Ellie went on.

It's just a disrepectful way to kill Joel in the guise of shocking the audeince to the point of absurdity.

Theres other issues, the way they tried and failed to force you to sympathize with a woman who tortured and beat a man to death, by painting this previously character driven story now as a "revenge is bad" motif driven story. The lack of nuance in any of the characters, the problems in the plot, the bland charatcers outside of Ellie and Abby, the lack of any actual stakes in their final face off because they ran into each other by accident in the end, and by not giving the player the choice to kill Abby or not it ruins Ellie as a character. It makes her unreasonably charitable towards the woman who tortured and beat her father figure to death in front of her.

It's overall a game that to me, wants to suddenly change its mind and go back. it wants to rewrite the ending sequence in the hospital to make Joel look like the bad guy, it wants to make us think Joel is wrong and deserves to be punished, killed, isolated from his adopted daughter who gave him purpose for the first time since Sarah died in his arms. It wants us to hate him, and it ruins Ellie, by making her hate him, only to double back and decide she loves hime nough to go on an absurdly violent killing spree while STILL trying to paint Joel as wrong and bad.

The Last of Us never needed a sequel. Its ending was perfect. And the sequel we got, changed everything about what and why the first game worked and ruined its story and characters. And for a game whose success is soley based around its story and characters, that is enough for me to write it off completely.

I know a lot of people at the time hated the game for being "woke" or whatever, or for a lot of dumb reasons, but I hate it, simply, because by changing the morals and motivations for Joel and Ellie, and writing them in an inconsistent way just to serve the narrative, it disrespecte eveything that made the fist game so beloved.

I adore The Last of Us, and really liked the show. So to think that the second game is going to be adapted for season 2 and possibly 3? It kills my interst in it. I already saw this story and characters ruined through the second game, I don't have it in me to watch it happen again but on a televison screen.

I care too much about that story to watch what I think ruined it, happen all over again.

[mini-sae]

The fight :

For the first time in months, you came back to your home alone.

You were very sad and anxious, but most of all, you were angry.

Homelander and you were so close. So loving to each other. But like every couple, you had sometimes differences.

You were often disagreeing on various things, but it was always short and harmless. Homelander knew the person you were and he never tried to change you. And you never tried to change him.

Your bickerings were always ending the same way. You both agreed to let go and decided that it wasn't worth arguing. You loved each other too much to let such silly things get between you too.

But this was different. You were with him at Vought, and you started arguing about something stupid. But he was nervous about his public speech and he raised his voice at you. Even when people started to come in the room, he said hurtful and disrepectful things to you.

You felt so humiliated and hurt that you decided to leave. He tried to stop you, since you were always there during his speeches. He always needed you to be there. It made him feel proud and safe to see your face in the crowd.

But you told him you wanted to leave. Even when he tried to make you feel guilty. For the first time you were cold to him. And when he realized that he took it too far, his face crumbled in no time. But you didn't waver.

So here you are. Alone at your home with your heart pounding in your chest.

You wanted to cry so bad. You didn't want to turn the TV to see him. You even made sure that your door and windows were locked.

Of course, that wouldn't stop him if he decided to come in anyway, but you hoped that he'd understand and leave you alone.

You took a quick shower and went to bed. You needed to sleep. You needed this day to end.

You were closed eyes, even though you weren't close to fall asleep when your heard him landing in front of your house.

You heard him trying to open the door, then the window of your living room. Then your phone started vibrating.

You sighed and put the cover over your face. But he was not having it. Instead of leaving, he was banging at your door.

- Y/N ! Open the door, right now !

He would be so easy for him to break it. But he didn't want to. He wanted you to open it. He wanted you to want him with you.

You ignored him, as hard as it was.

- I said right now ! - He roared.

You were worried about the neighbours. Everyone could hear him.

- Not tonight, Jon. We'll talk tomorrow. -

You whispered knowing he could perfectly hear you.

That's when your hear your lock breaking.

- Oh, come on !. - You said as you were getting out of bed.

He rapidly came in front of you.

- So what, we ignore each other now ?

He was so angry despite his efforts to appear in control.

- I'm not ignoring you, I just want to be alone.

- Alone ?

- Yes. - You replied, coldly.

A look of panic appeared on his face.

- Why are you like this ? Why are you doing this to me ?

You struggled to not trying to reassure him.

- Why ? Do I have to remind what you said to me ? In front of everyone ?

- I...

He runned his hands through his hair.

- I shouldn't have done that. I know. But you did worse.

You raised an eyebrow.

- You left me alone at Vought. You left me out of your home.

You feel guilt creeping up.

- I just needed time, that's all.

- Time for what ? To think ? To think about leaving me ?

- No.

You answered without waiting. Of course, you weren't leaving him. It didn't even occur your mind.

- I won't leave you. But I needed to calm myself down.

- You're not leaving me ? - He asked with glassy eyes.

You sigh and take a step towards him.

- No. I'm not leaving you. But I need you to understand that you can't do that again.

He seemed so relieved. He puts his hand on your neck.

- I won't. Y/N, I'm sorry. I don't mean what I said. You know that, right ?

- I know.

You really knew. But he didn't hurt less.

He tenderly kisses your neck.

- I love you so much.

His voice was muffled by your hair. You could feel his tears on your shoulder.

- I love you too. - You said, encercling him with your arms.

- You do ? You're not lying ?

- John.

You took his face in your hands and wiped a few tears with your thumbs.

- I love you. I'll never stop loving you.

He closes his eyes and nods his head.

As always. Your fights never lasted for long.