#okay Virgin Mary damn

[shini--chan]

Woah a hetalia blog in 2020 and a Yan one at that??? The world has BLESSED US! Could I please request Germany (and Russia If that's okay. Seprate not together) stalking and kidnapping their love interest?

Yandere Hetalia - Germany, Russia (Cat in the bag)

Germany

Ludwig would be so befuddled by his own feelings at first, that it would take some time for him to get back on track. In the meantime, he'd do everything he can to drown out the emotions that are causing him so much agony. It could be through work, household chores, dozens of personal projects (if you want to prevent a terrible future for yourself, it would be in your best interest to help him run away from his feelings.) Though, in the end, that won't be enough, and he'll eventually find himself scrolling through all your social media profiles. 

The more he ignored it, the stronger the urge became. It left him jittery, unable to focus. Ludwig already was reading the same paragraph for the third time, since the meaning behind the words never stuck. He wasn't even by the last sentence when the words began to blur due to overpowering thoughts of you. You, who he didn't want to think about due to the urges and desires the mere notion of you invoked. 

Slamming the laptop closed, damned be the deadline, he then snatched up his phone. Instagram was opened in a second and within a few clicks, he had your profile. He found himself hypnotised by the photos of you on display. There was one of the older ones that was a favourite of his, one where the light of a setting sun caught your features just right. 

Ludwig opened it, and leaned onto the table until he was half lying on it, the phone upright in front of his face. Far too close as well and he would have chided any other person doing it. Almost reverently, he traced the outlines of your face, exactly like he did with icons of the Virgin Mary in another life, when he had still been Holy Rome. 

He wouldn't be sure on how to approach you, so he would take the stereotypical dating ideas like going to the cinema together, or to an amusement park. Would be formal to the point it would be painful, but would loosen up as the evening progresses. 

It would only make him more obsessed with you and he would start following you around, and interrogating people about you. Not stalking, this is researching, is what he would tell himself. With you being so precious to him, he just needs to make sure that he caters to your needs and doesn't hurt you by accident. That would be all. His own curiosity and obsession with you would play absolutely no role in this, absolutely not sir. 

Most of the stalking would take place via social media, with him creating various sock-puppet accounts. Ludwig would go to great lengths to make sure you don't connect all of them to him - like showing different writing styles and personalities, and sometimes even feigning not knowing certain languages. The purpose of these accounts would be to watch you, and also engage with you on different topics and from differing standpoints in some cases. The anonymity the internet grants would be a boon here. 

Aside from that, he would also track you a lot. Germany would use this to "coincidently" run into when you are out and about and then invite himself to whatever you are doing. You'll find him joining the same clubs that you are a member of, if he isn't in them already. Often, he would come across as overbearing. 

The kidnapping would spout from the selfish desire to have you all to himself. He would be aghast by his own thought processes, and suppress it. Suppress it until it would come bubbling back to the surface stronger than before. He would find a whole host of justifications for his criminal actions - that he is allowed to be selfish, that the individualistic culture of Western society promotes his actions. 

Still, he would be filled with guilt and so apologetic for breaking in and knocking you unconscious. Law enforcement would have a very hard time finding you and Ludwig wouldn't really be inclined to release you. 

Russia

In Ivan's case, it would start very tame. The stalking would begin during the process of getting to know you and stem from suspicions of you not being forthcoming. During the first meetings you'd have, he'd inquire about your dislikes and likes, what you like to do in your free time, your opinions on certain matters. If you let him, he'll take you on long walks and converse with you about literature and philosophy until the sun sets and rises again. Though, there would alway be the nagging doubt about the truthfulness of your statements, something that would only be amplified should you show fear in any form. 

Thus, he would stalk you to find out how honest you are with him. Part of this wouldn't even be really following you around or watching you undress. In part, it would consist of going through your collection of books, investigating your taste in art and music, reading any journals you keep and checking what clubs you attend. To get an even better grasp on your personality, he would also look into who you are befriended with, as well as your relations with family members, and do background checks on all of them. 

The apartment you lived in could tolerate a good cleaning, in Ivan's humble opinion. It wasn't like you lived in a pig sty, leaving dirty clothes and rotten food lying around. Rather, it was the sort of "dirty" of a person that didn't have the time to wipe down the surfaces. 

Ivan couldn't help but grimace as he eyed the book shelf. There was a layer of dust on the free spaces and even on top of a few books, thus preventing him from actually taking out the one or the other and skim reading through a few pages. Leaving traces wouldn't do - if you couldn't relax in your own living space, then you'd start hiding behaviours. He'd just have to learn more about the books at home and through the internet. 

Home. It was a cosy little home that you had established for yourself here, but it was nothing compared to what he would give you once your relationship was more "official". First, he had to ascertain how honest you were being with him. So far, so good, you had been truthful with him - but it was possible to speak nothing but the truth and still be dishonest and devious. 

Turning on his heel, he headed to your small bedroom. A book was on your nightstand, just waiting for him to pick it up and flip through. Which is what he did.

Finally, he would also watch you. Some people talk or mutter to themselves when they are alone, and he would like to hear what you say when you think that nobody is watching. Also, humans do such fascinating things when they are sure that they are alone - what will you do? What bad habits will he have to exorcise out of you? Do you eat healthy, or does he have to help you along? Any addictions that he can use against you?

Should he determine that you aren't honest with him, then he'll be furious. Ivan would then make it his mission to teach you the value of honesty, do matter how damaging his lessons may be. Best if you learn quickly, or he'll make you as paranoid and distrusting as himself. 

As for kidnapping - it would only happen if you are in danger. The thing is, Ivan would regard you as fragile. Additionally, he would be very aware that his view on danger is very skewed, so he'd seek to compensate for it. In reality, he would be overcompensating. This would all be for your own safety and nothing you say would be able to convince him otherwise. 

He would even be gentle during the whole process, preferably luring you away. Maybe you go on holiday with him and never return to your home. Maybe you stay a night at his place and wake up to find you can't leave. Should you be resistant and avoid him, he'll of course have to resort to other means - sleeping pills in your food or drink, or snatching you off the street in the middle of the night. 

You were so peaceful when you were asleep. Knock out drops being the cause of your slumber didn't change that - you even had a small smile as he lifted you up in your chair. As luck would have it, you had tipped forward when the substance had kicked in, and face-planted in your take away. 

Your face was full of sauce and there were even bits of food in your hair, but Ivan was still of the opinion that you looked downright angelic. Of course, it was love and passion speaking on his side that tended to give people a different outlook. 

Carefully, he gathered you in his arms and lifted you up. There was a small bunch of people gathered outside of your apartment, curious as to what all the commotion was about. As was ever the case when an ambulance arrived to pick somebody up. In total, it was the perfect alibi, because who would suspect a paramedic of being involved in a kidnapping?

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Eight

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: sorry about how long this took i am busy and tired and also didn't want to write all this sad shit but alas, i did it. we are officially done with season one! i will be taking a small hiatus before i get to posting the next chapters for season two, but i cannot wait to continue this for you all. mwah mwah mwah

Word count: 8.8k

Chapter Eight

As your final week at the Dogtrack began, you found yourself already getting nostalgic. You wandered the lower levels gently, strolling in and out of every room, before you ascended the steps to the upper levels. You slalomed through the concessions, waving hello to the bar workers, cleaners, and others who were getting ready for the final game of the season that Saturday. You ascended another level to reach Rebecca’s office, and when her door loomed before you, you knocked upon it. 

Rebecca shot you a look of understanding when you entered her office, almost sullenly. You tried to keep your spirits up, but she could see right through you about this– the same way everyone else could when you gently popped your head around the locker room door that morning. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rebecca said, opening her arms warmly as you clicked the door shut behind you. 

You allowed her to encase you in a hug, one where you couldn’t help but imagine her as the Virgin Mary and you as her tiny baby Jesus. Rebecca’s bosom was just that comforting that you couldn’t liken it to anything else, but you would never tell her that. Not in a million years.

“Are you okay?” she asked, as she removed her calming grip from you. 

You nodded once. “Yeah,” you said, but your voice cracked involuntarily. “Maybe,” you added, and it only made Rebecca laugh sympathetically. 

“Did you submit your final assignment?” she asked. 

“Yes, thank fuck,” you breathed out, before you flopped yourself onto the sofa. “Every last thing I needed to do has been done, so now I just… wait, I guess.”

Rebecca dropped herself beside you and crossed her legs. “Waiting isn’t so bad of a thing, I suppose. I waited to see the Spice Girls live for over a year, and it turned out brilliant.”

“I think waiting for a concert is vastly different than this, Rebecca,” you let out. You spread yourself out on her sofa, starfish style. She reached out and grabbed your knee affectionately. “I’m not waiting for a once in a lifetime performance, I’m waiting for the inevitable end of coming to this place every fucking day.” You lifted your head up quickly, and shot a wild gaze her way. “What if they all forget about me?”

“That’s not fucking possible,” she said strongly. “And if you go off the radar then you can count on Keeley and I coming to batter down your damn door, or someone else.”

“Someone else?” you questioned, and your mind immediately went to Lasso. “I don’t think Ted would do that. He’s far too soft and squishy to break down a door, don’t you think?” you rattled off. 

“I didn’t mean Ted,” Rebecca said, squeezing your knee gently. You inhaled when she looked at you knowingly, before you dropped your head back down to stare at the ceiling. She didn’t need to say a name for you to know that she meant Roy. 

Roy Kent would definitely batter down doors, you thought, but whether or not yours would come into that equation was a mystery. He hadn’t battered down your door before, only knocked and begged to come inside… 

Was that the same thing?

“They’re going to bench him,” you said plainly. 

“I know,” Rebecca said. 

“I think he knows it, too,” you said. 

“I think you’re right,” Rebecca said, before she retracted her grip from you. She stood up strongly, and peered down at you like a giant. “No more moping, come on,” she said, as you allowed her to hoist you from the sofa. 

“If I can’t mope, what the fuck am I supposed to do for the next five days?” 

Rebecca smiled. “Enjoy it,” she said. “Before it’s all over, enjoy it.” 

On Tuesday, you grabbed a coffee from the cafe in the morning like normal. You scuffed your feet on the concrete as you headed to your office afterwards, but got immediately side tracked when you heard a ruckus from the locker room. Without dropping off your belongings, you headed there first to check out what was wrong. 

You entered the uncharacteristically quiet locker room, only to discover Ted, Nate, Higgins and Rebecca. 

“Why so hostile, Nathan?” Rebecca said, as a mischievous smile graced her face. 

“Wait… you know my name?” Nate asked, as you slowed to an almost comically paced slow walk. You held your breath, not wanting to interrupt the four of them. 

“I needed to know it for when I wrote your contract,” she said, before she sent a look your way. She winked at you, and you were reminded of a text from Roy a few weeks prior– Nate was due to get promoted, but for the past month he’d been afraid he was going to get fired. 

You had to admit it, but the look on his face was fucking hilarious. 

Ted smacked a hand down on Nate’s shoulder. “You’re not getting fired, buddy, you’re getting promoted!”

All of a sudden, the closed blinds of the manager’s office revealed the screaming team of AFC Richmond behind. They yelled and cheered, and Colin let off a confetti cannon as he burst through the door and into the main locker room. Nate’s shock and fear dissipated immediately, turning into excitement and appreciation, as soon as he locked eyes with Rebecca again. 

She handed him his contract, and the word coach at the top made him want to cry. This was what he’d wanted for so long, but what he’d never dared to think about achieving. Seeing his name on this contract, however, made everything change. He’d made it. He’d really fucking made it. The guys gathered like a swarm of bugs, picking Nate easily off the floor and gently swinging him in the air triumphantly. You laughed at their joy, their excitement, as you peered up at him atop Isaac’s and Sam’s shoulders. 

Roy gently approached you from behind. He skidded his knuckles across your lower back, alerting you to his presence. You crossed your arms and leaned back into him without even thinking. Your upper back thumped against his chest gently, as the two of you kept your eyes on an overjoyed Nathan.

You twisted yourself around and looked up at the smile on Roy’s face. You jabbed him in the abdomen gently, as he peered down at you. “You’ve gone soft,” you said, just loud enough for him to hear. 

Roy sniffed, trying to puff out his chest to counteract your words. “No I fucking haven’t,” he said, but it was clear that you were right. 

Without hesitation, you raised your hand to his face and gently prodded his cheek. “I think I just felt a tear,” you joked, before you prodded again. You widened your eyes in false shock. “No, I definitely did. You’re on the brink of crying, aren’t you?” 

Roy’s attempt at staying stoic went out the window upon your second prod. He swiftly pushed your hand away and guided your shoulders around to face the rest of the room, before he playfully wrapped his arms over your shoulders and chest. You leaned further into him, bringing your hands to grab hold of his forearms strongly. He was so close to resting his chin on the top of your head, and part of him wanted to, but he didn’t. You refrained from tilting your head back from fear that he’d pull away. 

Instead, the two of you swayed from side to side gently, smiling, laughing, peering out at the joyous scene before you. Neither of you dared to question the position you were in, whether mental or physical. You simply held on for dear life, and chose not to focus on the fact this would all be over in a matter of days. 

On Wednesday, you took your laptop outside to the stands. You sat there for most of the day, tapping upon your keyboard, until the late afternoon sun shone against the blue and red plastic seats of the Dogtrack. You only went inside to piss, or eat, or drink, but even those times were sparse. Even by the time practice had been and gone, you were still outside, soaking up the sun. 

The echo of footsteps on the opposite side of the stadium hit you, and when you looked up you were surprised to see the small outline of Roy. He headed to one of the blue seats in the stands, hands in his leather jacket pockets. You gently went to close your laptop, thinking about joining him, but you stopped when you saw another figure emerge. Ted walked up the stairs of the stands, before he slotted himself beside Roy in the sea of blue. 

Innately, you knew what they were going to talk about. Pulling off the bandaid. Quickly and without fuss, you grabbed your belongings and headed back inside. The guys were packing up to head home after a long day. You bumped into Sam in the corridor, and strolled to the car park together. 

“Do you need a lift? I can drop you home,” he offered, as you approached his car. Further down the car park, you saw Roy’s Jeep. 

You shook your head gently. “Thank you, but I’m good,” you said. Sam followed your eyes to Roy’s Jeep, and when he looked back at you, there was an understanding look on his face. 

“See you tomorrow?” he questioned. 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you replied, beaming. 

Sam drove off a moment later. When you were alone, you strolled towards Roy’s Jeep and leaned against the passenger side door gently. The Spring sun shone off the hood, casting an orange glow over the entire car park. This reminded you of before, the first time he’d ever driven you home from the stadium. The sun was the same colour, and it was so vibrant that his pitch black car had erupted with a volcanic glow. 

Secretly, you thought the colour orange suited Roy. 

You crossed your arms and looked at the ground, waiting for the inevitable moment that Roy appeared. You didn’t want him to be alone, not for this–  not ever, really– so you planted yourself on the concrete, content with waiting for him to finally leave for home. 

Roy stormed through the stadium, gym bag in one hand and his car keys in the other. He huffed through his nose painfully as he opened the doors to the car park, and was ready to scream at the top of his fucking lungs– until he saw you. You leaned against his Jeep, head down to the point where your hair covered the obviously sleepy expression on your face. Your arms were crossed over your chest, and your knees were slightly bent from tiredness. 

He slowed his pace as he approached you, and unlocked his car with his keys. You felt the car vibrate behind you, and noticed the flash of lights as it unlocked. When you looked up, Roy was no more than a metre away from you, and still fast approaching. You sucked in a gentle breath as he tugged open the passenger side door for you. 

“Jump in,” was all he said, and you didn’t have to be told twice. He shut the door behind you after you were settled and jumped into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, leaving the car park as fast as he possibly could.

The drive was silent. Roy didn’t turn on the radio, nor did you ask him to, either. When he turned down your street, he pulled onto the curb outside your building. He cut the engine, and the interior went utterly silent. Gently, you looked at him. He looked back, and his stare was enough to make you melt. 

You sucked in a deep breath. “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. 

Roy’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. His entire body tensed. “No,” he said plainly. 

“Okay,” you said gently, shooting him a small smile in understanding. “If you want to, you know where I am.”

Roy nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah,” he said, but it came out forcefully, like he didn’t want to show what he was truly feeling. You didn’t press him, but instead grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow?” you asked, as you laid your hand on the door handle. 

“Yeah,” Roy said again, hiding behind the pain in his chest.

You got out of his Jeep, and slammed the door shut behind you. You sent him a small wave from the pavement, and before you could even reach your door, he’d switched on the ignition and veered off down the road. 

On Thursday, Roy didn’t come to the stadium. His absence was felt by everyone, especially the team. Ted was quiet for most of the day, trying to keep up his commonplace enthusiasm, but it was clear that he felt guilty. No one blamed him, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like he’d done the unthinkable. 

You grabbed lunch with Keeley, but the quiet and sombre feeling from the stadium had rubbed off on you, too. You swirled your fork in your plate of pasta, and had hardly touched your glass of wine. Keeley cleared her throat opposite you, before she leaned forward gently. 

“Babe,” she started, as you met her eye. “It’ll be alright,” she said, trying to keep things light. 

“Sorry, I’m being such a fucking downer, aren’t I?” you breathed out, before attempting to perk yourself up. 

“It’s understandable. Change is scary,” she said. 

“It’s like, even though I try not to, I’m counting down the minutes until it’s all over. At five o’clock tomorrow evening, I’ll be done at Richmond.” Saying it outloud had you getting choked up. You swallowed quickly to stop your throat from closing up. 

The cogs in Keeley’s brain started whirring. “You sound just like Roy, you know? In your article, when he talked about not knowing what to do after he retired.” You listened to her intently, thankful for her kindness. “There will always be opportunities beyond the now, especially for talented fuckers like you and him,” she said, and you huffed at her bluntness. “You must have had employers in touch after the article, surely?”

You nodded at her, and thought about your inbox full of job offers. “I’ve had a few, yeah. That’s not what I’m worried about, though. I could work anywhere, I think it’s just… everything else, that’s getting me down.”

The end of the season. The threat of relegation. Saying goodbye. Every-fucking-thing. 

“You’ve got time,” Keeley reassured you. “Your lease at the flat doesn’t end until July, you’ve got job offers left right and fucking centre, and, well– you’ve got Roy.”

You furrowed your brows quizzically, but that was counteracted by the small smile that curled onto your lips. “Got Roy for what?”

Keeley sent you an amused look. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that,” she said, as she shoved another mouthful of pasta in her gob. “I see the way you two are when you’re together.”

You huffed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, here.”

Keeley dropped her fork and pointed at you abruptly. “You’re in denial, babes.”

“I am not–”

“Yes, you fucking are! You’ve been around a whole bunch of sexy footballers for months now, one of which has gone out of his way for you, your degree and your future, not to mention he showed up at your door with an apology fit for a fucking queen. All I’m saying is, if I was in your shoes, I would have had him at least three times by now–”

“Keeley,” you warned her, through a wave of amusement. 

“What? Not even a fucking kiss? What a bloody waste,” she said, before she grinned at you with her teeth mischievously. 

“The last thing Roy needs right now is me scuttling around him.” You took a sip of your wine. “He’s got enough on his plate as it is, and I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Do you hear yourself, babes?” Keeley said, her eyes wide. “You’re exactly what he fucking needs right now.”

You scoffed at that, reminded of yesterday in his car. “No, I’m not. Even at the best of times, Roy has the emotional output of a fucking teacup, but yesterday…” you trailed off, taking another sip– more like a gulp– of wine. 

“Was it bad?” Keeley asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, it was bad.” 

Keeley leant across the table and grabbed your hand quickly. Her touch had superpowers, you thought. You always felt infinitely better when she found a soft way to reassure you. “His feelings aren’t your problem to fix, babes. You’ve let him know you’re there to support him, which is all any of us can do.”

You nodded, and let out a pent up breath. “Yeah,” you said, smiling at her. “You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

“All you need to focus on is enjoying the last days of your placement, alright?”

You chuckled at her. “I can do that. For you, I can do that.” 

Keeley squeezed your hand harder, and you let her. The two of you clinked your glasses together, as you enjoyed the final lunch break meal of your placement at AFC Richmond. 

On Friday, you started clearing out your office. You shoved all your supplies, books, post-its from Sam and the like, into a cardboard box that you could walk home with at the end of the day. You sat at your desk in the morning for the last time, and opened up your laptop despite having no fucking work to do. You skimmed through your emails, and added interview dates in your calendar, but you had to stop and hold your breath when you saw a new email fly into your inbox. 

It was from Pluto Press, the publisher that you’d meant to have your original placement with. They reached out after reading your article in the Independent, and had asked to set up a meeting for a possible job opening. Just like that, cogs had started flying into place. 

If you got a job there, you’d be able to stay in Richmond. In your flat, around your friends, around the boys, and around the club. You emailed back immediately, letting them your availability for an interview, and started curating a portfolio of your work before and during your time at AFC Richmond. Keeley was right— change was scary, but it was also exciting.

You just had to let yourself believe it all.

By lunch, you’d cleared out your entire office. It looked too bare, too empty. You swiped your hands over the cinder block walls— walls that you’d become so familiar with that it seemed painful to know you’d be leaving them behind in a matter of hours. 

Behind you, Sam knocked at your door. You turned and met his eye, and sent him a saddened smile.

“All packed up?” he asked, looking at the emptiness of it all.

You nodded, letting out a huff. “It feels so weird. I feel like I haven’t been here nearly long enough, but also for years at the same time.”

He strolled further into your office. You felt calm when he was near. “This place will do that to you. Make you settled and comfortable, but that is when time passes you by without realising.” 

“Yeah,” you acknowledged him gently, before sighing. “Are you on your second workout already?” Sam nodded. You stepped forward, and could see the other guys headed to the gym together through the door. A question danced in your mind. “No Roy today?” 

Sam shook his head. “We think he switched off his mobile. We’ve tried to reach out, but—,” He shrugged. “Nothing.” 

“I tried on Wednesday,” you said, as you leaned against your empty desk. “It was the same. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.”

“That has always been Roy’s way, I think,” Sam said. “He will come back if he wants to, and he knows we will be here if he does. No one is to blame for this.” 

“I know,” you breathed out shakily. “But, that’s just it, isn’t it?” You peered up at Sam’s soft and welcoming face, and you knew then that he understood you wholeheartedly. It felt good to be known. “It’s out of our control— but that’s when I want to fix things even more. It’s gutting to know we can’t do anything.” 

“That is because you are kind,” Sam said, and stepped towards you once more. “Too kind for your own good, sometimes. You want to fix everything all of the time, and feel responsible for other people’s feelings far too much, might I add.”

You huffed, feeling vulnerable. “Come off it.” 

“See!” Sam exclaimed. “You just proved my point for me.” 

You waved him off playfully. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” you trailed off. 

Sam settled comfortably. “I am going to miss this.” 

This. Your chats. Your moments of shared clarity. Sharing a space with one another every day of the week. 

You ignored the strain you felt when your throat closed suddenly. You swallowed away the urge to cry. “Me too.” 

He headed towards your door then, smiling knowingly as he left. “I will see you after?” he asked, lingering on the doorway.

You nodded strongly, despite the rapid way your eyes were welling up. “I’ll be here.” 

You finished up some final emails in your bare office, before you sat in the cafe with a cup of tea for the remainder of the day. When the clock hit 4:30pm, you left sullenly. You felt a strange sense of peace as you navigated the empty corridors of the lower level, and were surprised to find the gym and locker room utterly empty.

The guys were nowhere to be seen, and Ted and Beard’s office was quiet of all Americans and Brits alike, too. You sighed to yourself, as you looked up at the yellow believe poster above the manager’s doorway.

You couldn’t believe this was it. Your last day. You’d spent nine months strolling up and down these corridors and rooms, sharing smiles and commiserations with the team, a joke with Ted, a look at Roy. When you thought back to the September before, you’d been so annoyed to be in this position, but now? 

You wouldn’t trade this experience for the world. 

It didn’t feel right, though. It didn’t feel like closure, because you knew that someone was missing. Roy wasn’t here. He wasn’t here on your final day to roll his eyes, or boom profanity, or offer to drive you home just to spend a few more moments with you. He wouldn’t be starting on the pitch tomorrow, or may not even show up at all, as you sat in the stands for your last game under contract at the club. 

It was almost too much to bear. You’d started your journey here with Roy, and it seemed only right to end it with him— but that wasn’t an option anymore.

You let the last of your composure fall away as you finally let go. Your eyes welled past the point of staying dry, as tears crept down your cheeks, tracking shining lines down your face. You peered around the room as you held yourself, taking in the red and blue everywhere, the numbers and names on the cubbies, and fluorescent lights overhead. You’d never expected for it all to feel so sad. Leaving, saying goodbye, moving onto other things. 

You realised then that, if you had the option, you’d stay at Richmond in a heartbeat. Fuck publishing. Fuck your book. You wanted the comfort of the cinder block walls and the laughter trickling from every room. 

You wanted to stay.

“Is it really the end already?” Ted said from the doorway. You jumped from the surprise, and turned to him quickly.

You wiped your tears away frantically, trying to hide your face, but when his soft and knowing smile hit you, it only increased your sadness. He strolled towards you gently, hands in his pockets. 

You sucked in a shaking breath before forcing yourself

to speak. “Give or take twenty minutes, but… yeah,” you let out, sputtering out embarrassed chuckles as you did so. 

Ted peered down at you. Him and his moustache smiled at you. “Come here,” he said gently, before he encased you in a hug. 

You let him hold you, as you laid your head on his shoulder and sniffed away the last of your tears. 

“I might be joining you on the goodbye train out of here, too, y’know?” he said, as you pulled away from his embrace. “Oh! You should come and visit Kansas!” You chuckled at the ease in his change of tone. “We’ve got great barbeque, and none of that brown watered monstrosity that you call tea.” 

“I love tea,” you croaked, as your voice levelled out and away from a wobbling mess.

“I just don’t get it! Roy said the same thing last night,” Ted whittled on. Your gut lurched at the mention of Roy’s name.

“You saw Roy?” you asked.

“I sure did. He stopped me from getting hit by one of those taxis— sorry, black cabs— last night. And we had a little chat afterwards at my place.” 

“How is he?” you asked, trying to keep the desperation from your voice, if that was even possible. 

Even just a few days without Roy had you feeling fucking crazy, especially after your drive home earlier in the week.

“He’s doing alright,” Ted’s voice settled. “About tomorrow’s match though, well… we’ll see.” 

You nodded in understanding. At the end of the day, it was Roy’s decision whether he wanted to show up or not. You prayed he would, prayed he’d be there to hear you scream your lungs out in the owner’s box for the last time during your placement. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Ted said suddenly, before he pulled out something from his pocket. You hovered your hand out for him, and he placed a small, green army man in your palm. “For protection. Just a little goodbye present,” he added, and your heart swelled.

You held it in your fingers, and felt a finality surge through you. You peered up at Ted thankfully. “I’ll miss you,” you said. 

“You, too.” Ted smiled. “Now, come on! The guys have something planned for you.” 

You followed Ted out of the locker room, sniffing away the last of your tears as you did so. He zoomed ahead as you tried to keep up with him, and turned to the left towards the tunnel towards the pitch. You emerged into the late afternoon light behind Ted, and what met your gaze had your heart in your throat immediately. 

The boys stood on the pitch, holding individual signs with letters upon them that spelled out the words– write about us. 

Starting from Isaac, all the way to Sam at the other end, those twelve letters burned themselves into your retinas. Behind those boys, the rest of the team cheered. As your last day at AFC Richmond came to its end, you felt more known than you ever had before. Each of these players, and coaches, and crew, knew you so wholeheartedly that you could hardly believe it. Your impact had spread around the stadium off Nelson Road like wildfire.

It only cemented the love you felt for them all. Even if you wanted to, they wouldn’t let you remove yourself from their team after this. You were Richmond till you died, and you had never been happier about something being set in stone.

As the group dispersed, Sam, Colin and Isaac approached you quickly. You let them encase you immediately, ignoring the slight suffocation of knotted limbs and laughing bellies that surrounded all of you. You would have let them smother you to death in a heartbeat. What a wonderful way to die that would be. 

“When you go out tonight, you better have enough drinks for all of us, bruv,” Isaac said, as the four of you gently parted. 

“I’d be downing a pint with you if it weren’t for Man City tomorrow,” Colin said. “It’s best we get an early night and keep up our strength for the game instead, you know?”

You smiled in understanding. “Don’t worry about me. Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll be drinking in the pub after the game, anyway.”

Sam placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “I am already looking forward to it.”

You sent a look at each of them in turn, trying to portray just how much you appreciated them, how much you loved them, but you felt like it had to be said in words. You sucked in a deep breath. “I will,” you started, but noticed their confused faces. “Write about you, I mean. There’s already too much of you all within me that I’ll have to get it out on paper sooner or later.” 

Colin and Sam smiled like the sun. Isaac’s face scrunched up painfully, until it was clear he was holding back tears in his eyes. 

You walked home in the dwindling Spring sun. Down Nelson Road, across Richmond green, past Mae’s pub, and the like– you knew Richmond like the back of your hand now, and had no desire to leave. Lucky for you, you had a feeling you’d land a position at Pluto Press soon, which meant you wouldn’t have to uproot yourself again. You could stay in your flat, stay close to the guys, stay close to Roy–

You cleared your throat abruptly at the thought of the Richmond captain. You hadn’t heard from him in two days, and didn’t know if he was going to show at the game tomorrow. It was none of your business, either, but you still felt a craving to let him know that you were there for him; through thick or thin, despite all the shit between you in the past, and even now. Roy Kent deserved to know how much you loved him, and your time at the stadium that day had only made you all the more nostalgic and emotional. 

When you got back to your flat, you quickly opened your laptop and printed out what you had in mind. You were practically jumping by your printer as the ink cascaded over the once blank page, and were bounding out of your door before the words had even dried.

You rushed down your road towards Roy’s house, not even thinking about what you’d do or say if he was at home or opened his door. As the sun began to fully set over your small neighbourhood in Richmond, the fancy houses that you passed seemed to almost loom over you. They cast shadows upon the pavements and empty roads, but you didn’t hesitate as you approached Roy’s driveway. 

Gently, you folded up the small piece of paper you’d printed, and placed it on his welcome mat by the front door. Inside, the lights were off, but you still knocked quickly before you turned on your heels and left. You weren’t about to wait around, or call in on him out of the blue– not after his long week. So, you left as soon as your knuckles were done wrapping on his door, and rounded his driveway before he could’ve opened his door and caught you. 

Roy saw you leave. Through the windows in his porch, and the large panes of glass that showed off his living room, he saw you approach his home and leave immediately after knocking. Before he could reach his door, you’d already turned the corner of his drive, back towards your building. 

The urge was there to shout out, to run after you and acknowledge how today was your final day at the club, but he held himself back. He hadn’t seen you since he’d driven you home, since he’d been feeling everything and nothing at the same time. He didn’t want to face you while he still felt the repercussions of it all, and especially not before the game. 

It was selfish, he knew, but you would have stuck around if you’d wanted to see him, too. As he looked out at his driveway, he wondered why you’d even bothered to knock upon his door and leave straight away– until he looked down. On his welcome mat was a small, folded piece of paper. Roy bent down and grabbed it, before he retreated inside, back to the dark. 

He didn’t like turning on his lights a lot of the time. It angered him that he had to pay to put on the lights in his home, and it felt even stupider that he needed them when he mostly looked at his phone screen, or the television. They were pointless, most of the time, but as he sat at his dining table, he turned on a lamp to the side of him.

He unfurled the note you’d left him, and as his eyes traced the printed ink– alongside some of your own writing– he found himself smiling. 

It was the email from your lecturer, when he’d told you about Roy’s impromptu visit to your university, all those months ago. It felt like it’d been five years, not a little over nine months. Beneath the email, you’d written something short and heartfelt– A reminder of the time that we became friends. Thank you for everything during my time at the club. Whether you play or not tomorrow, I’ll be yelling from the owner’s box for you. 

Roy sat back and inhaled deeply. “Fuuuuck,” he whispered. It cemented his decision for tomorrow in a millisecond; he would go, even if he was on the bench. He would go for you. 

As you walked to Nelson Road the next day, nerves bubbled in your gut incessantly. This was it, the final hurrah. Richmond’s threat of relegation was imminent, and it was only a matter of time before them and all the fans would witness their downfall. You didn’t even want to think about it, it felt blasphemous, but it was almost impossible not to understand how much this game meant. 

Even more so when you thought about Jamie Tartt. This was the first time in a while that he’d been back at Man City, and against his former teammates as a consequence. You knew that Jamie wouldn’t care– he’d go out there and play like he normally did, to an annoyingly good level despite his ego, and wouldn’t think twice about dominating against his old team. 

But the guys– they would feel every sting, they would take every hit, and they would be heading outside onto the pitch for an all out battle. You knew it well. 

Against your wishes, you chose not to go to the locker room and greet the guys before this game. Instead, you headed for the owner’s box immediately, and found yourself sitting there alone for the first twenty minutes before the pre-game started. You knew that Keeley and Rebecca would be around, but you were almost glad that you got some time to yourself. Just to breathe, to soak it all in, before you got ready to yell for your life. 

As the stadium started to fill up, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, and when your eyes traced over the message,  the butterflies in your stomach seemed to mellow out. It was from Roy.

Still in the owner’s box? 

You smiled as you typed your reply, and sent it without any hesitation. 

Of course. Still not the caretaker?

Roy smiled at his phone in the locker room, sitting quietly as everyone prepared for the game. He’d just handed off his Captain armband to Isaac McAdoo, and didn’t fully know what he was feeling. Knowing you’d be outside when he stepped upon the pitch was enough at this moment. 

Not yet. I’ve still got game in me, even if I am on the fucking bench for this. 

It’s too bad. I was hoping to see you rightfully start on Jamie, but this time you’d be on the opposing team. All the more dramatic. 

Roy huffed to himself. It was impossible not to feel the comedy in your words as you sent them his way, both over text and in person. 

Don’t tempt me. I’ll still fucking do it if I get the chance. 

Looking forward to it. 

“Alright, fellas!” Ted clapped his hands together. Roy sent one last message, before he put his phone in his bag and out of the way. The boys settled into their pre-match pep talk, and that was that. 

You read Roy’s final reply, feeling a warmth that you’d never be able to describe. 

See you out there. 

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins joined you soon after. As the minutes whittled down before kick-off, you tried and failed to place yourself in some kind of zen mode. The air was almost too thick, and coupled with the upset you felt about leaving Richmond, you spent the majority of the time until the players emerged trying not to fucking cry. 

The atmosphere shifted as soon as the players ran out of the tunnel. You held your breath as they lined up for the anthem, and leaned over the edge of the box so you could see them all better. The unmistakable look of a Captain band was on Isaac’s arm, over Roy’s, and you felt proud of them both. It mustn’t have been an easy decision for Roy to make, but he’d still done it. Isaac must have been feeling nerves ten times what he was used to, but he wore the band with pride. 

After the anthem, the teams split up on each side of the pitch. When Roy would usually head to his starting position, he exited off to the sides and headed towards Richmond’s bench. He slipped on a long-sleeve thermal, before he took a few moments to peer around the stadium stands. Richmond’s bench and coaches were right beneath the owner’s box; you had a full view of all the second string players and Ted and Beard alike. Seeing Roy there was like an entirely different feeling– he was closer to you, which you didn’t mind in the slightest. 

As Roy peered around the entire stadium, he twisted himself around to land his gaze upon the owner’s box. His eyes found you in seconds, and yours glued onto his in response. You leaned further over the lip of the box, and rested your chin on your knuckles as you looked at him. You smiled. He smiled back. Quickly, you shuffled your hand from beneath your chin and made a simple OK sign with your fingers. Roy chuckled to himself unavoidably, before he gently sent you an OK sign back. 

You glanced quickly at the pitch, and the match was about to begin. You stood abruptly, with Roy’s eyes still on you from below. Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled it alongside your loudest Come on, Richmond! imaginable. 

Roy had to turn away to hide his smile. It was colossal as he headed towards the bench and sat down. It didn’t go away until the whistle blew and the game began. He waa going to miss seeing you everyday, but he knew that you would still go to games at the Dogtrack. That should have given him some comfort, but it didn’t. He knew his time was up. 

The game started, and you didn’t sit down for the first half in its entirety. Dani scored halfway through the first half, and you erupted when he did. You hugged Rebecca and Keeley like there was no tomorrow, and that early had the team in great spirits for the rest of the half– until it was fucked. A sneak attack had Man City emerge into the box, and with two minutes to go until the whistle blew for halftime, they equalised. You let out a heartfelt “Fuck!” when they did so, and found yourself dropping back into your seat glumly. They’d been so close, but they simply had to hold it together now. You watched silently as the team scuttled back to the locker room for the interval.

Ted had a plan up his sleeve. He had the power of Beard and Nate on his side, and they had the advantage of knowing City’s star player through and through– Jamie Tartt. If he was still the same after he left, then there was a chance that the guys knew how to get to him and mess up his game. It was a longshot, but it was a good place to start. 

They needed speed, that was for sure. When Jamie got the ball, it instilled the fear of man into every single person on the opposing team. He was unstoppable, and almost impossible to tackle when he got going. That was the goal– keep the ball as far away from Jamie fucking Tartt as they could. 

“We’re so close, guys,” Isaac spoke up suddenly. “Another goal, and we clinch the win. We just have to hold our defence together, you get me?” 

“Keep that ball away from Jamie,” Richard said, and nods of agreement rounded the room. 

“Exactly right, boys,” Ted joined in. “If we get out there, if we believe, we can do this!” The energy shifted tenfold, and the priorly defeated guys were pumped up once more. “Roy, you’re starting in the next half. I want you back on that pitch,” Ted added finally, before players started trickling out of the locker room. 

Roy glanced over at Isaac. Isaac gave him back his Captain armband without a second glance, smacking a hand on Roy’s shoulder warmly before they headed back to the pitch. 

Your heart jolted when Roy started in the second half. You knew Ted well enough to know that he wouldn’t bench Roy for the entire game, but it was a surprise when he swapped him out after halftime. It was true that Richmond needed fast players to keep up defensively, and despite Roy being slow now, you knew that he held more in terms of power. 

Players were scared of him. He had an anger that always came out on the pitch, one that left players, referees and coaches alike with a similar mindset– do not get on Roy Kent’s bad side, because he will make you pay. 

As the second half proceeded, it was anxiety inducing how little things happened. It was a full back and forth, with hardly any opportunities for Richmond or Man City to go for a goal. Both teams had put their defences up tenfold, and neither wanted to risk that and fuck up the rest of their game. It was almost like a stalemate, like a disaster waiting to happen. 

As full time approached, you could hardly fucking breathe. You clutched Keeley’s hand tightly as the guys kept up with each other, and simply tried to get through this shit. Jamie hadn’t yet found an opportunity to break through, until there were less than five minutes in it. When he snuck through, you shot up from your seat and screamed. 

“Tartt’s going for the box!” you screeched at the top of your lungs, clutching your hand over your heart and crunkling the Richmond shirt that you donned fondly. 

The home fans in the crowd rose intensely, as they noticed a player creeping up behind Jamie. Even Arlo and Chris in the commentator box could hardly believe it– Roy was going for Tartt, running at speeds that hadn’t been seen from him for a matter of years. He was stealthy, pumping his arms in perfect harmony with his legs, until he launched himself into a perfect sliding tackle.

You raised your hands to your mouth as he did so, and the ball was knocked from Jamie’s orbit as the two of them dropped to the grass harshly. The cheers for Roy were impossible to block out, and you joined in as soon as you recognised the familiar tune. 

He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where! Roy Kent! Roy Kent! 

You rejoiced with Keeley and Higgins in turn, pumping your arms triumphantly within the owner’s box, until the clock restarted– but that moment didn’t come. Instead, as you laid your eyes back out onto the pitch, Jamie reluctantly stood and shook himself off after that tackle, but Roy…

“He’s not getting up,” Keeley said, confused. “Why isn’t he getting up?”

Your eyes burned as you took in the image of Roy, sprawled on the ground, clutching his kneecap. Something was wrong, and that was plain to see. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. This couldn’t be it, surely. This couldn’t be the time he wasn’t able to get up and keep playing. Not now. 

Sam and Isaac approached him quickly, and huddled around him. The physio was on stand-by, and Ted and Beard were practically chewing off their fingernails in anticipation. Sam helped Roy up slowly, dragging him up from the pitch as he took in the chant that he’d become so accustomed too. It had echoed throughout the Premier League for more than a decade, almost two. He was a household name, respected by footballers, pundits, coaches– you. 

Roy limped off the pitch, waving to the crowd in good nature. He would never be wheeled off, or walked off with help, you knew that. Before he fully left for the tunnel, he quickly pulled the Captain band off his arm and passed it to Isaac. The two shared a moment that had your heart bombarding into your throat–

This was it. The moment that Roy had been talking about before. His last day of playing football. With an injury that bad, that had been settling for years and damaged further by overuse of his joints, you didn’t have to be a rheumatologist to know that he was done for. That final tackle had fully fucked his knee.

As he hobbled out of view, you couldn’t bear it any longer. You abruptly stood, and left the owner’s box without a word. Keeley and Rebecca saw you go, but said nothing to stop you. Instead, they shared a look with each other that said a thousand words– you were exactly what Roy needed. 

You fast-walked along the corridors of the Dogtrack, descending to the lower levels until you hit the familiar grey concrete floors. You passed by the full size pictures of players on the walls, and ignored the uncomfortable beat of your heart, until you stumbled around the corner to the locker room. 

You lingered by the door, and swallowed painfully, before you emerged into the doorway. Roy sat by his cubby. He’d shrugged off his shirt and thrown it on the floor unceremoniously. His right knee was red and already bruising, as he attempted to make himself comfortable. It was no use, though, not alongside the tears in his eyes that were welled so full it was a miracle they hadn’t already dropped down his face. 

You stepped into the room gently, and Roy jumped when he saw you. “No one’s allowed back here during a game,” he said bluntly, but the wobble of his words was enough to make your heart subtly crack. 

“I won’t tell,” you said gently, trying to diffuse the tension as best as you could. Roy knew you weren’t going to leave, but when goosebumps hit his skin, he flinched further away from you. 

“I told you, you have to get out,” he tried again. You only kept up your slow pace towards him. You weren’t going to back away from this, not when he needed you most. 

Roy’s aversions to being social, to being emotional, to being vulnerable, scattered all over the floor before you. You ignored them, and continued placing one foot in front of the other, until his attempts to deter you heightened even further. 

“I mean it– stay the fuck away from me!” 

You stopped when he said that, but still stayed in place. Peering down at Roy softly, you flicked your gaze over his face gently. He looked wounded, in more ways than one. You knew this day would fucking suck for him, and wanted to be there for him desperately. As much as he’d yelled at you to leave, you knew that was the opposite of what he needed. 

Slowly, you closed the gap between you. Instead of sitting beside him on the bench, you knelt to the floor before him. At this level, you were practically face to face, and Roy could easily see your intentions. Gently, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. Your fingers skimmed his jaw on the way, and his eyes stuttered shut at your touch. He leaned into it, and brought his hand up to cover your own softly.

You shuffled closer to him, placing yourself between his legs, as you leant upon his healthy leg. He let you, and urged you to do so, as he leant further down towards you. Roy’s breaths were shaking as he inhaled and exhaled, and a few tears fell from his closed eyes and splattered upon the concrete floor. 

“I don’t know what to fucking say,” Roy croaked painfully, as he opened his eyes and landed his stare upon you. 

You peered up at him thoughtfully, and swiped your thumb across his damp cheek, mopping up a few tears unintentionally. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Roy exhaled shakily once more, before he gently dropped his forehead onto your own. They bonked together almost clumsily, but you held each other in place for dear life. “Okay,” he said, trying to calm down. For a moment, he removed his forehead from yours and replaced it with a chaste kiss, just for a second. You shut your eyes as every hair on your body stood up on end, before he replaced his forehead back onto your own. “Thank you,” he said. 

As roars sounded from outside, neither of you knew which direction the match had gone in. All you knew was that the other was breathing, and this was something new for both of you. After all this time, being close to Roy didn’t feel shocking, or abrupt, or anything of the sort– it felt normal. The two of you stayed close until his heart had calmed down, and the adrenaline in his body had disappeared enough for his knee to start fucking killing him. 

You found an ice pack from the training room, and rushed back to his aid as soon as you could. Then, you sat next to him on the bench silently. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, and you draped your arm around him to fiddle with the hair at the nape of his neck. Roy’s fingers traced your knuckles distractedly, and the two of you stayed like that until the unmistakable echoes of his teammates emerged from the corridor. You didn’t want to move away, neither did he. 

As the season and your placement drew to a close, you knew that new things were out there. For you, for Roy, for the rest. Roy knew it too, as he contemplated his options after this injury, and this loss. All he had the energy to rationalise in those moments after the result were you related– would you still be near, would you still give him your time, would you still hold him this close? 

As much as he felt your warmth, radiating from every pore and crevice and fingertip and the like, invigorating his flesh and bones and blood and everything that made him, him– he couldn’t help but wonder… would all of this fade alongside this change?

As you laughed alongside his teammates, after their relegation, and his fucked up knee, and Ted’s possible resignation, he found himself smiling about all the good you offered every single person in that room. But, it wasn’t entirely truthful. Roy was afraid. But, he put on a happy face. He held your hand when it felt right, and he let you lean into him during Ted’s post-match talk. He smelled your perfume in wafts and held himself back from looking you directly in the eye, from fear that he’d do something stupid and place his lips upon yours. 

Roy Kent had often held himself back, but he didn’t want to do it with you. Not now, not after all the shit that had happened over the past nine months, and the fact that he’d become so used to your presence. But as he sat there, laughing through the pain with his team, and his coach, and you– he knew that want and circumstance were different things. 

Sometimes you couldn’t help the way things turned out– and not even you, or Roy, or AFC Richmond, were immune to those sullen twists of fate. 

CHAPTER NINE

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff@ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant@pedritosgirl2000 

[nattinatalia]

Urban Wyatt x Reader Instagram AU : 3RD HARLOW

A/N: You can find all my other Urban x Harlow sister fics here. They are not in timeline order btw

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Liked by yourusername, selenosunni, neelamthadhani, cozane, and 8,567,356 others

urbanwyatt She wanted to wine and dine me.

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yourusername I’ll wine and dine you anytime baby, as long as you give me Urban Jr afterwards.

urbanwyatt Oh you never have to question that.

claybornharlow Can you two ever just make a normal post? Always have to sexualize everything

yourusername Damn okay dude 😢 I’ll be Virgin Mary starting now 🙏🏻

urbanwyatt A little too late for that now babe.

jackharlow I hate you 🙄

neelamthadhani Major side boob action going on 🤤

urbanwyatt My favorite 🤤 😋

•

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harlowwyattupdates Urban and Y/N today posted this on their story.

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user They’re so unserious 😂

user I love them

user I would make those faces too especially if they get close to my girl

•

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yourusername Art museum with my favorite piece of art 😝☺️

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urbanwyatt You stole my line 😒

urbanwyatt & my pants

yourusername and your jacket 🤪🤪🤪 your clothes look better on me.

jackharlow You’re fake as fuck because we were supposed to go to it together!

yourusername Dude the way your schedule is set up, I waited two months.

jackharlow You could’ve invited me 😢

yourusername You hate joining me and Urb on things.

cozane We all do

selenosunni I don’t, I enjoy it 👀 🙈

claybornharlow You’re getting your ass beat for that

•

yourusername added to their story

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jackharlow added to their story

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urbanwyatt She got freaky in your sixty-four, I skeeted in her throat.

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druski So It’s daycare in her throat 🤪

jackharlow No

yourusername @ druski You already know 😌

urbanwyatt There’s definitely a daycare going on as we speak.

yourusername 😋😛

user Not you choking her with the hoodie strings

urbanwyatt She’s used to it already!

neelamthadhani The hottest couple I know

blancaaa ahh not so much now

yourusername My B 😘 leave my brother and come with me????

jackharlow Excuse me? Quit It she’s mine and she isn’t going anywhere near you.

yourusername 🙄 She told me last night she wanted me not you.

user are we going to ignore the fact that Jack has a girlfriend and she’s got asf

yourusername We’re not ignoring shit, my boo is fucking hot and my brother is lucky to have her.

blancaaa 🥰🥰🥰

•

TAG LIST

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[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 5 - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Hellboy Propaganda

He is literally the beast of the apocalypse. He was forcibly assigned catholic at birth, he deserves this. Now i know the rules said no demons, and that is fair. But here is my propaganda: he is a half-demon AND he absolutely does not want to end the world. He just wants to hang out and beat up monsters and work his job. But catholic guilt and apocalypse stuff always gets in the way. The comic books contain a ridiculous amount of religious imagery, the author was raised catholic, and passages from the bible are occasionally quoted. Hellboy is also portrayed as a messianic figure in conjunction with being an apocalyptic one. He uh, kind of becomes the savior of the new world and its like a whole thing. Catholic imagery appears frequently. Statues of the virgin mary, churches, etc. he also wears a literal cross on his belt, what can i say.

Okay here’s my rant. Hi, hello, propaganda. The last ten issues of the comic literally feature Hellboy going to hell and killing satan. He kills satan, fucks around in hell for a bit, and then blows everything up and its godamn tragic. Forcibly assigned catholic at birth. A bro did not ask for this it just happened. His mom was a witch but tried to become catholic after she died. Kind of a banger move. It didn’t work out for her but she gets points for trying. He tried real hard to save the world and it kind of worked but he did still die and go to hell. But not because he did anything bad, it was just kind of unavoidable. Again, he did blow the place the fuck up when he was done so. Respect.

Lapsed Catholic who is literally a half demon and also the rightful King of England that’s right he’s descended from King Arthur on his mother’s side.

Matt

Matt's faith in the show is really important and well explored; one of the first scenes of the show is Matt going to confession (or, well, talking to his priest since he's not really confessing at that point). Matt struggles a lot with what he's supposed to do; everyone's telling him to kill the villain and he kinda wants to, but he literally says: "I know my soul is damned if I take his life". He struggles with his faith and goes with his doubts to his priest, and it's beautiful—also when he finally gets a costume for his vigilanteing he chooses to dress as the devil, lol. (His priest tells him that nothing makes people run to Church faster than the feeling of having the devil on their heels.)

a lot of the show is about how he justifies his vigilante actions with his faith, and whether he's doing the right thing in trying to help people or just using it as an outlet for his anger. the literal first scene of the show has him in a confession booth talking to his priest (who is a really interesting character too). this is not the scene I was talking about but it's such an excellent scene with matt talking to his priest: https://youtu.be/XHZ3NbEIDdw

canonically catholic but dresses like a demon to be quirky

honestly i dont wanna type too much but i feel that matt is a great example of someone who battles with his faith because he rarely loses his faith but rather fights with why he was made the way he was and put through what he was. He believes himself to have the devil inside him but believes that God put him there

ok in the comics barring the most current run matt has Mostly been a non-practicing Catholic that very rarely actually does any catholic Activities but ends up falling back into the Mindset and very occasionally dramatically taking confession (ex. in that one issue where he takes confession, basically tells the father that he is uniquely terrible and is thinking about violently murdering someone and when the father says "you can be forgiven" hes like "AUGFH-- NO!!!!!!!!!!" and runs out) when he's gone through some shit. and i love that its so relatable

This guy so catholic he spends an ungodly amount of time just chilling in the church. And goes there whenever there is a moral conundrum about killing people being Bad even though it would solve a lot of problems and stop said people from killing other people. This happens every other episode. Matt is the Catholic Guilt Guy. There's actually a lot of catholic stuff in the show as a whole. Just a compilation would be like three whole episodes long.

Hes great hes catholic enough to not outrught murder people but not catholic enough to not fuck before marriage hes a bisexual disaster at all times hes besties with a priest might i add hes great hes my special little guy

his catholicism is a huge piece of his characterisation he was raised by nuns in a catholic orphanage, the first scene we ever see him (as an adult and not a flashback) is him going to confession, he is good friend with his priest and has regular debates with him, etc also in s3 he has a huge crisis of faith after he lost A Lot where he stops believing for a while and it's linked to his identity crisis where he actually wants to kill another person (a hard line he previously chose never to cross) and wants to be only daredevil and not matt murdock, when he is both and needs both to exist also when he was a kid his grandmother used to say "watch out for the murdock boys, they've got the devil in them" and it created a surprising lot of his issues

So he's both catholic in the comics and the show but he's More Catholic in the show. Like, raised in a catholic orphanage by nuns (ONE OF WHICH IS HIS *MOTHER*), second scene in the show has him in a confession box kind. Matt Murdock goes out and gets the shit beaten out of him nightly and also beats the shit out of other people and purposefully leaned into devil iconography as his theme. When his nurse friend says, he takes a lot of punishment without one complaint he says "That part's the Catholicism." It is a Core Aspect of his character (at least in the show). He makes me insane. Also the same chemicals that blinded him created the teenage mutant ninja turtles and everyone should know that.

They went to confession to a priest who they had saved as their costumed counterpart and the guy recognized them by the voice, proving that it's possible and everyone else is just dumb

he takes "i wanna fight god" to new and incredibly violent levels, while also being a sweetheart and a goofball

Actually strictly WILL NOT kill criminals. Goes wayyy out of his way to avoid it. Fights with the Punisher about it. Goes to confession booth after nightly vigilante excursions. Feels so much guilt. "How have you been holding up?" "Like a good Caltholic boy" "that bad huh" - actual conversation with his priest

So Daredevil struggles with his mission as a crime fighter because killing criminals goes against his faith. He makes it a point to not kill criminals, believing that even bad people deserve a second chance. This philosophy puts him at odds against The Punisher, who is a relentless killer. As a Catholic myself, while I love the concept of a morally conflicted superhero, I think the worldbuilding around Daredevil is lacking. If he struggles with violence and killing, why doesn't he pray to warrior saints like Saint Michael, Saint Ignatius of Loyola (a former knight), or Saint Joan of Arc? Why isn't there a community of other Catholics he can turn to for guidance, considering New York City has a sizeable population of Catholics? And why are the churches he goes to always empty? Doesn't he know that the Catholic Church supports the just war theory? I think that would have made his burden more bearable.

He goes to church and confesses to punching people and says "imma do it again can i apologize in advance" and the father dude says "no you're meant to stop now" and Matt says "no" and they do this everyday. I'm not remembering it properly but this is a canon interaction i swear

HELLO HI YES I LOVE HIM AND WILL INFOR DUMP ok so. he is a vigalantty and he got named daredevil and he is an orphan and after the age of 12 was raised in an orphanage at a Catholic church and his therapist is his priest via confession abd. also his mother is a nun he has a whole mental breakdown over god and called Job a pussy because he liked god until he got better and liked god again he said "I'm dearedrvil and not even god can stop that now" and he's so cool

matt is a freakish little babygirl who was raised by nuns and definitely has religious trauma. i hate him so much (affectionately)

he’s literally fucking insane about it i don’t know what to say here. he thinks he’s chosen by god to go on some sort of holy quest to save hell’s kitchen. joan of arc ass.

i already know hes in by default j just wanted to give him a personal shout out i love this angsty catholic dweeb

how practicing he is depends on the run, but in my favorite he is quite literally confessing to a member of the last extant order millitant who happens to be a priest at a church in hells kitchen.

i love him for having the funniest version of a trope i usually hate (person gets into confession booth and asks forgiveness not for what they've done, but for what they're about to do). usually this trope just looks silly to me bc like. the priest would just say "i can't do that" and you would have to either awkwardly explain yourself or just Leave. it's funny when matt does it because fr. lantom is probably like "what are you gonna do???" and matt's like "lol. lmao. 😊 hehehe." anyway we love this angry catholic man who dresses up like the devil to beat people up in hell's kitchen

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I'm sure Harrow is lovely and I respect the space lesbians but listen to me. Listen.

Matt Murdock is the Catholic character of all time, and if you make him lose, I am blowing up this website and everyone in it.

He is Catholic. His mother is a nun. He grew up in a catholic orphanage. Half the episodes in the show include him going to confession. When he needs therapy, he talks to his priest. He dresses up as a devil partly because of the Catholicism.

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One time he got godly powers on loan from Heimdall (see below), and he did a lot of good with it, and then the second it was over he just... well. Also see below!

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This man's every coping mechanism is Catholicism.

Please vote for Matt in the @catholic-character-tournament because he's the best and most realistic representation of what it means to be Catholic. Someone who's been punched and bet and crushed by life but still gets up every day to try. No, he's not a nun like his competition but he's not less devoted because of that. Not everyone is called to service. In the day he works at a defense lawyer to help people. Not for the money but to help people not get screwed over by the law. And at night, he dons a mask and beats up assholes when the law fails them. Is he perfect? No, that's the point. Matt is a broken man who is just trying his best to do well and live like Jesus.

He fully embodies the Catholic doctrine of faith and good works. He has faith in what he's doing even if others challenge him. He believes in forgiveness and repenting even when going up against "the devil."

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"The people you murder deserve another chance." ... "No, Frank. To try again, Frank. To try. And if you don't get that, there's something broken in you you can't fix, and you really are a nutjob." "You think God made you a one-man firing squad. But you're wrong. There is goodness in people, even in you. And you're gonna have to kill me, 'cause I'm never gonna stop coming for you, until I take you down."

Daredevil Season 2 Episode 3

He (tries) to love his enemy. He believes in Elektra and Frank and maybe Dex and their ability to change. To be good. And when he can't, Matt refuses to compromise on his morals. While not quite "turning his cheek" he never scoops to their level. Because they don't get to destroy who he is.

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Daredevil Season 3 Episode 13

All he does is for the love he has to his neighbors, his community. He loves New York. Not for self-fulfilling needs or for the money or for the fame. He does it because he believes in justice. Because the law was created by humans and is inherently sinful.

"But his competition met God and was disappointed and blah blah"

Daredevil is more grounded (at least the show, maybe less the comics). So now, Matt doesn't met God. But he sure gets mad at him. All of season 3 he angry at God for all the trauma he expired.

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"You see, that was me, Sister. I suffered willingly. I gave my, uh... sweat and blood and skin without complaint. Because I too believed I was God's soldier. ( chuckles ) Well, not anymore. I am what I do in the dark now. I bleed only for myself. ( scoffs )" ... "You might hate God right now, but the feeling is not mutual." "No, I don't hate him. I've just seen his true face, is all."

Season 3 episode 1

As a Catholic I don't really want to fight God in a parking lot. Well I do but not in the same way that I've understood (primarily Jewish people but probably other Abrahamic religions) want to fight God in a Denny's parking lot. I want to yell and scream and cry at God and for the feeling to not be mutual. For Him to never stop loving me. As long as I have faith, He will reach out his hand.

[seraphdreams]

Who around in bonten do you think sleep around and who are looking for something serious (if there are any lol)

oh em gee !! i’ve been waiting for this question!!

okay so the biggest whore of them all, rindou — he sleeps AROUND .. he’s not one for big commitment and it doesn’t interest him to want to be with one person forever. he loves the fast life of the city, so he enjoys sex every moment he gets, not his fault he’s just too damn good at it.

ran is a perfect in between. as he got older and matured, he realized that he has no time for being like his little brother. sure, he gets lots of attention from ladies, makes it seem like he’s real interested but he does want to settle down in the future. he wants to find the one.

sanzu !! so haru is a bit of an enigma about these sorts of things. i do feel as though he has no need to sleep around, he’s very cautious of the people around him. but he likes obsession. i don’t think he searches for “the one” rather, he finds someone he can obsess over, someone who gets his blood pumping, someone for him and him only. whether that be requited or not. love isn’t something that occurs for him, he wants a high. with that being said, i think he could be pretty committed so he’s definitely not a sleep around type.

koko …. yeah, good luck with him. hajime doesn’t wanna be around anyone unless he gets a tangible benefit. sex isn’t all that exciting for him to want to sleep around but he does fall in love quickly, tries to play it off and push it aside so his mind n body forget how badly he wants someone but ultimately in the end he fails. he’s a very picky person, if he chooses you, you’re lucky.

now, my favorite part. the virgin mary of bonten — kakuchou ! he ABSOLUTELY wants to find the one. in my mind, he’s a virgin who’s had so many opportunities to get laid that the rest of bonten just facepalm.. poor baby just wants to give his all to someone he loves. sure, the lovely ladies hanging off his arms are pretty but he doesn’t find that light in them. turns them down so sweetly so they don’t feel hurt getting rejected. “you all are very, very beautiful.. but not tonight, i’m sorry.”

as for mikey, he is 100% not into either. he has a business to run and it’s taking all of his time. only the most confident women find themselves yearning for a bit of mikey’s time and maybe he’ll let them please themselves, sit in the king’s lap but there’s a small chance that he feels a particular way.

takeomi & mochi, i’ll wrap up simply .. omi is definitely looking for the one. he’s pathetic and wants someone to make him feel good about his life, how he’s doing. very susceptible to being lied to :( and mochi, i don’t think he’s looking for anything. very mikey in a sense, he just wants to get his work done.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Repugnant with an s/o who's scared of intimacy but wants to try?

Repugnant with an s/o who's willing, but scared of intimacy

Mary Goore (they/them)

They're a bit confused, but they don't question it.

If it stresses you out, it stresses you out. They're not gonna question it.

They just tell you to take your time. They will keep whoring around, naturally, but if you need to talk, just give them a call.

Mary's a pretty good listener. And as fucked up as they are, they've got a solid grip on reality and good (although messed up) head on their shoulders.

They try to assure you it's nothing to be scared of, especially considering their habits.

You already hang out with them, what's the worst that could happen, y'know?

Still, they don't pressure you or anything. They let you control the pace.

No use in rushing you, after all. The rush ruins the potential fun.

DD Sars (he/him; fwb, not s/o)

I mean... not all his friendships have to be the horny kind, right?

He's not gonna try and be all sweet about it all. He's not your boyfriend.

He is, however, a guard dog of yours, in a way.

Because while he doesn't care, there's always a chance you have a partner.

And if that partner tries pressuring you, DD will not only give them a piece of his very vulgar and violent mind...

He will also ruin them in more than one way, and not a single one of those is anywhere near being fun.

Doxxing and stalking aside, he will pretty much break your partner mentally and might even get Mary to join him in ripping the bastard to shreds.

He's not your boyfriend, but he's a damn good friend.

Even though he's an incredibly fucked up person, he cares about you. In his weird ways.

G. Grotesque (he/him)

If you tell him about it, he's gonna pull you in for cuddles and assure you that it's okay.

It doesn't matter if you need to wait, he's perfectly fine with it.

He loves you, he doesn't care about sex all that much. Sure, it's a nice bonus, but you're much cooler.

He's very patient and sweet with you if you decide to try.

He adapts to you when it comes to how you want to do it.

If you want to top, he'll patiently and lovingly guide you and praise you for how amazing you're doing.

If you'd rather have him top, he fully expects you to just go pillow prince(ss) mode while he takes care of you.

Very gentle. Very loving.

11/10. Would lose virginity to him.

E. Forcas (he/him)

He understands fully. He usually takes years on average to warm up to someone properly, so he gets being scared of things like that, even if it's for different reasons.

He absolutely respects everything about your decisions, so if you need some time, he'll wait.

He's also willing to slowly and gently guide you. He's the last person to ever rush you.

It doesn't matter how many attempts it takes.

He'll praise you for any progress you make and comfort you as long as you need whenever you get too stressed and have to safeword out.

He goes at your pace. No matter what.

Tom Bones (he/him)

In Tom's eyes, pretty much any sex is good sex.

He doesn't mind you not being ready. If he's really horny, he can jerk off or go to one of his other girlfriends to deal with his frustrations.

He's fine with you needing time. It's not something to lose his mind over.

His dick can wait for you. No need to worry.

He's more than cool with just kisses and cuddles for as long as you need.

As long as he gets you in his lap, he's fine.

While he usually likes it pretty rough, he can also do soft and loving so you have a nice, sweet first time once you're ready.

He can also just do some sexual stuff with you to slowly help you lose the sex-related anxiety.

For example, he might playfully grope you a little.

Or attack you with kisses, small bites and a hickey or two.

He believes you'll get there eventually. And he's willing to wait as long as it takes. Absolutely zero pressure.

You don't get a break from his dumbass sex jokes, though.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @thermodynamic-comedian @vampyrolesbos

[animechristi]

Ranking of Kings: Hell and Demons

Offered to Jesus through Mary

Matthew 22:13 “Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”

Spoilers?

No big spoilers this time around. I’ll refer to one scene and one character out of context, but that’s all. If this whets your appetite for the show then go ahead and watch it. If not, then still give it a try. It’s a good show that keeps you hooked. Not to mention the second opening is a banger.

Our Topic

Towards the end of the show, we’re shown a depiction of hell where the souls of the damned are eaten, regurgitated, reformed, and then eaten again ad infinitum. If this reminds you of Dante’s Inferno, you’re not alone. Also, good job! Being well-read in literature guarantees you pick up on all the inside jokes and references people make. Setting aside the early Italian renaissance – what’s important here is that Hell isn’t just a fiery time out corner. The damned aren’t just thrown into Hell. They are actively punished while in Hell and they’ll be in Hell forever. This should properly terrify us. If we think the “sweet release of death” frees us from all our problems, we may be in for a rude awakening.

The unnamed demon eating someone’s soul.

But before we get too gloomy, let’s take a step back. Ranking of Kings did a good job showing us how horrific hell is. But if this article is going to serve a purpose, we should see how someone ends up in Hell. We could say ultimately this is done by rejecting salvation through Christ. That’s the general answer. For specific answers we can look at all the various ways someone separates himself from Christ. For now, I’d like to focus only on one way: pacts with devils. If we believe the rising statistics of people claiming to worship pagan gods, then we shouldn’t be surprised that more people – knowingly or unknowingly – are entering into pacts or contracts with devils.  

In Ranking of Kings things are comically straightforward. Miranjo, a young woman, has made a pact with a demon who tells her upfront “when you die, I’ll devour your soul”. We might dismiss this and say “she was desperate, and it was for the sake of the plot.” That’s fine with me. I’m not trying to prove or disprove her character. Pay attention to what the demon says. It’s simplistic, sure, but the pact made between Miranjo and the demon demonstrates truths about our spiritual warfare this side of Heaven. Contracts are a two-way street. Each party does something for or to the other. But this doesn’t mean both sides are equal. In making a pact or contract with a demon, a human places himself under that creature’s power structure in the hopes that one metaphysically higher than himself can achieve what he cannot.

Christ casting out demons

Here’s the catch. Demons cannot guarantee their side of the bargain. All their actions are confined by the permissive will of God. They serve the father of lies, so why should we believe anything they promise?

Alternatively, the Paschal Mystery of Christ is what establishes a new covenant (i.e. contract) between God and mankind. In Baptism we die and rise with Christ. This takes us out from the domain and power structure of sin and death and places us in our Heavenly Father’s house. Only by our own free choices do we find ourselves outside such divine protection.

Okay, so what?

I don’t expect many readers to have experimented with occult practices. Again, good job! But regardless of our history, I want to recommend a simple practice: repeating the renunciations made at our Baptism. It’s a small way of reminding ourselves who exactly we’ve put our trust and hope in. Let us firmly say I do to the follow.

Do you renounce Satan?

And all his works?

And all his empty show?

Do you believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth?

Do you believe in Jesus Christ, His Son, our Lord, who was born of the Virgin Mary, suffered death and was buried, rose again from the dead and is seated at the right hand of the Father?

Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?

St. Justin Martyr, pray for us!

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

So i was watching a bunch of funny GC videos on YouTube and I got the inspo and motivation to give the OG13 a GC. This will probably be very OOC, but I like to think of this as how they act without the other states. So um- enjoy? (Also yes I know that ME technically isn't one of the OG13 I just added him for fun)

================================

Yorkie: WASSUP F*CKERS

Masshole: Why do you have my phone?!

Yorkie: F*CK YOU THAT'S WHY

Papa (PA): Wtf is wrong with you guys

Yorkie: b*tch stfu

Masshole: fr

Papa: 😑

Joi-sey (NJ): why am I here

Maine: I would also like to know.

Joi-sey: Nobody asked you 😑

Maine: I don't remember anybody asking you either so stfu 🤫

Georgia: It is too damn early for this... Why must y'all always choose violence??

Mary: I would like to know this as well, but I've just stopped asking and accepted it as one of their traits hun.

Georgia: Ughhhhh

Respect Your Elders(DE): Why tf is my phone blowing up

Yorkie: Cuz we're conversing duh 🙄

Respect Your Elders: Silence fetus.

Yorkie: B*tch.

Respect Your Elders: Infant.

Yorkie: Old man.

Respect Your Elders: Toddler.

Yorkie: Old hag.

Mary: Aight let's stop fighting!!

Yorkie: Stfu <3

Respect Your Elders: Stfu Mary.

Mary: 🥲

Southie: Hey guys 👋

Joi-sey: Hey babes 😘

Southie: Hey handsome ✨❤️

Masshole: Ewwwww get a room 🙄

Joi-sey: Oh shuddap Masshole. We don't say nothin' when you and Penn are sitting together on the couch and lovingly staring into each other's eyes and sh*t 😒

Rhodey: Actually we do say stuff-

Joi-sey: Yea but not out loud.

Masshole: ....Stfu <3

Joi-sey: 😌

Nutmeg: Will y'all stop bullying each other for once-

Joi-sey: No ❤️

Masshole: Nah ❤️

Connie: *sigh*

Georgia: Yorkie wanna cuddle 🥺

Yorkie: Is that even a question- I'm on my way.

Northie (NC): Gayyyyyyy

Yorkie: Oh shut up ion say nothin' when I walk past you and TeNnEsSeE making out in the hallway, so don't start.

Northie: 😳 you saw that

Yorkie: Yup 👍 I had flashbacks to middle school when I would walk into the hall and see a couple playing tonsil hockey.

Masshole: Ok but FR THO

Yorkie: YEAH THEY ALWAYS BE GOIN AT IT LIKE BRO AINT NOBODY WANNA SEE THAT 🥹

Masshole: ONG. AT LEAST GO INTO THE JANITORS CLOSET OR SOME SH*T 😒

Yorkie: YEAH. IM JUST TRYING TO GET TO MY NEXT CLASS AND TRY TO GET THROUGH THE DAMN DAY WITHOUT GETTING DRUNK AND JUMPING INTO A BUSY ROAD FOR FUNSIES 😭

Masshole: ...Damn you alright bud

Yorkie: I'm fine <3

Masshole: Okay then...

Papa: Wtf was that...?

Georgia: Idk but I have my Yorkie with me so I'm fine with it 🥺❤️

Yorkie: Stfu-

Georgia: He's blushing rn

Mary: Hun if you don't send a picture right now then no more coffee ❤️

Georgia: Sending it rn hold on...

~georgia sent a photo~

*in the photo York has his face hidden but it's still quite obvious that he is blushing like crazy*

Papa: Pfft-

Virgin(ia): Awww how cute 🥺

Joi-sey: How long have you been here

Virgin(ia): T h e w h o l e t i m e.

Joi-sey: Alright then...

The Shire (NH): Ay Yorkie ya still alive?

Georgia: No he's asleep.

Masshole: Good. He needs it.

Rhodey: Aww Masshole does have a heart :)

Masshole: Stfu before I come over there and kick you like a football out the window :]

Rhodey: 😶

Masshole: Damn right.

Mary and Papa (at the same time): Your cute when your mad 😒❤️/🥺❤️

Masshole:... Stfu ❤️❤️

Virgin(ia): I'm so lonely 🥲

The Shire: You and me both 🥲

Connie: I feel y'all :')

Rhodey: There's an emoji for that y'know 😒 "🥲"

Connie: Idc 😑

Rhodey: Whatever

.

.

.

.

.

(the next day)

.

.

.

.

Yorkie: Guys guys guys guys-

Respect Your Elders: What did you do now child?

Yorkie: Ok first of all, f*ck you. Second, I found a rat snake :)

Masshole: Put it back where you found it.

Yorkie: Why tho 🥺 He's cute 🥺

Masshole: Okay, what do rat snakes eat 😒

Yorkie: Birds, bird eggs, squirrels, rats- Oh. OH-

Masshole: Yea dumba$$. Knowing that it eats squirrels, it would probably eat your long rats too.

Yorkie: B*tch they're called ferrets.

Masshole: Point still stands.

Yorkie: I'll put him back 🥲

Masshole: Atta boy <3

Yorkie: F*ck you <3

Joi-sey: Knowing him he'll probably abduct some random garter snake he finds in the woods

Connie: Probably 😑

Papa: Yea that's accurate

Everybody else (-NY): ^

Yorkie: Man I feel betrayed 🥲 F*ck all of you ❤️

Georgia: Even me darling 🥺

Yorkie: Yes you too traitor ❤️

Papa: DAYUM-

The Shire: Dang no hesitation 😭

Georgia: I- Love you too I guess 🥲❤️

Yorkie: ❤️

Yorkie: EEK I FOUND A GARTER SNAKE 🥺 IT'S SO TINY 🥺

Joi-sey: Yup thought so.

Masshole: Goddamn it- New York stop abducting random animals

Yorkie: But-

Masshole: No buts 😒 Put it back.

Yorkie: It's cute tho 🥺

~Yorkie sent a picture~

*in the picture the snake's snoot is right in front of the camera*

Yorkie: 🥺

Masshole: Dangit it is cute- Y'know what? Fine. Tell me when you get home.

Yorkie: YESSSS :D

Masshole: 😒❤️

Respect Your Elders: Awww does the big bad Masshole have a soft spot for his little brother 🥺

Masshole: Del istg I will kick you out the window

Respect Your Elders: Pfft- yeah right 😒

Masshole: ....

Respect Your Elders: Uhhh guys?

Papa: Hm?

Respect Your Elders: Why do I hear footsteps approaching my room?

Rhodey: That's probably just Mr. Bay State coming to kick your ass out the window.

Respect Your Elders: Uh oh- Baby are you not going to help me 🥺

Rhodey: Sorry Love, but I ain't gettin' in the way of that

Respect Your Elders: Babe 😭

Rhodey: It was nice being with you <3

Respect Your Elders: Jersey? Penn?

Papa and Joi-sey: Sorry Del/Ha nope.

Respect Your Elders: Traitors 😭

Respect Your Elders: Oh god he's knocking on the door-

Respect Your Elders: HE JUST KICKED MY DOOR DOWN-

Respect Your Elders: GUYS HELPHDKGSKADHSU-

Yorkie: Damn he got him 😔

Joi-sey: 😔

Papa, and Rhodey: 😔

Mary: Y'all I just heard a thud outside my window 😥

Joi-sey: Probably just Del.

Mary: WHAT?!

Papa: Backread.

Mary (after backbreading): OH GOSH- WHY DIDNT YALL HELP HIM 😭😭

Yorkie: Ya really expected us to get in the middle of Death's work?

Mary:... Fair enough 😭

Georgia: Is he still alive??

Mary: Well- he's groaning in pain so yeah I think so 👍

Georgia: At least he's alive.

Masshole: Hey I'm back :)

Mary: Hun why did you kick Del out the window 😭?

Masshole: He was running his mouth 🥺

Mary: No books tonight, youre sleeping <3

Masshole: Nuuuuuu 🥺

Mary: Sorry Hun 😘

Masshole: 😔👍

Yorkie: 😎🕶️🤏🙂🤭

Masshole: 💥

Yorkie:👀🏃🏃🏃💨

Masshole: Damn right 🙂❤️

[kateinator]

Huh okay, thought time.

Have we ever seen a soul in heaven?

Like, season 2 comes with proof of the damned, that souls are sent to hell.

And yet, why don’t we see a single soul that isn’t an Angel in Heaven? Where are those that do good in the world? Where’s Job? Where’s the Virgin Mary? Where’s literally any baptized person who was just kinda vibing? Where’s my grandma?

Why are there no people in Heaven?

[andreabaideas]

okay...

You unleashed my fury now :

Úrsula K Le Guin

Ann Radcliffe

Agatha Christie

Jane Austen

Colette

Margaret Cavendish (first science fiction female autor ever? Like Hello???? )

Christine de Pizan

Margaret Atwood

Charlotte Brontë

Anne Brontë

Emily Brontë

Virginia Wolf

Octavia Estelle Butler

Gertrude Stein

Edith Wharton

Angela Carter

Isabel Allende

Doris Lessing

Elena Ferrante

Louisa May Alcott

Lucy Maud Montgomery

Madame de La Fayette

Anne Bradstreet

Fred Vargas

Madeleine de Scudéry

Madeleine de L'Aubépine (earliest female erotic poet)

Charlotte Saumaise de Chazan

Anne Desclos

George Sand

Virginie Despentes

Gloria Steinem

Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein and basically half invented science fiction as we know It now, but okay...🙄 Also she totally Lost her virginity on her moms grave , like DAMN.

SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ughhhhhh

Annie Ernaux

Françoise Sagan

Anna Gavalda

Emilia Pardo Bazán

Elvira Lindo

María de Zayas y Sotomayor

Teresa of Ávila

Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim

Clare Booth Luce

Sophie Treadwell

Aphra Behn

Enheduanna

Mary Ann Evans (George Eliot)

Margaret of Valois

Alice Bradley Sheldon (James Tiptree Jr)

Madame or Countess d'Aulnoy (invented the term “conte de fée” or fairytale, you all!!)

Marie de France (first female autor in french ever that we know of)

And almost every single text / nivel signed by Anonymous IS suspected to be female written.

....All of this to say to that Twitter user : Fuck off!

Can’t believe Jane Austen wrote Pride and Prejudice in the 2000s

And in 2015 Emily Brontë released literary clsssic Wuthering Heights

Thank God someone paved the way for them…

[apho-sappho]

I thought of the stupidest PJO oc to date

Hera has one single child outside of her marriage. A daughter with a divorce lawyer

All the daughter knows about her parents is she has one mom who's a divorce lawyer and her mama is yhe queen of heaven

And she was raised in a mostly catholic town

So she assumed her mama was the Virgin Mother Mary. And she was like "damn it's kinda awkward that Jesus Christ is my half brother "

And okay, sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night to a peacock murdering her babysitter who she swore had wings and teeth the size of a lion's, but that doesn't mean anything, right?

Camp Half-Blood is extremely confused and kinda worried about Zeus's retribution

[thecruellestmonth]

I do think Jason should be religious. I think the way that he looks at the world is very religious. Or at the very least, he can be very dogmatic, in ways that could seem understated compared to the dogmatism of the people around him.

Bruce insists he doesn't believe in God—not because he rejects proof of God's existence, but because he's angry at God. I think Jason's belief in God comes easy—compared to his feelings about Bruce, which are similar to Bruce's feelings about God.

I'm putting Catholic guilt up on the shelf where you guys can't reach it. It's just an AO3 tag to you, is all it is. Out of the entire Bat brigade, Jason is probably the least attached to guilt—and it's refreshing! Most of these characters are drenched in scrupulosity! It's very noble and cultish and distressingly glorified! Bruce doesn't even practice Catholicism, and yet every damn week he's skulking around catherdral-esque architecture, and clinging to statues of angels and saints, and sticking really cliche Bible passages into his stupid internal monologues, and clutching his dead baby like the Virgin Mary held the Body—he couldn't be more Tumblr Aesthetic Catholic Guilty if he tried, okay, he already has that corner of the market covered, more than actually Catholic DC characters.

I do like Catholic Jason, I could do one of my clumsy trivia compilation posts for the evidence if you want it, although it's admittedly sparse. 🤷‍♀️ My own pet Jason headcanon is that he's Buddhist, in a way that is very sensical and theologically rigorous yet completely nuts in much the way that he'd be Catholic. ✌️ And IDK that could invite some snobby nerd to lecture me about stealing one of the world's most popular religions from stunning groundbreaking amazing canon Buddhist representation written by famed Asian religious scholar ✨CHUCK DIXON✨ but I can live with that.

[cybermoonmoon]

I post this again because it cheers me up.

"Tickles the soul" as Emily Dickenson wrote.

It goes,...

"Chapter, and Verse”

One of my wishes has been to open a little bookstore. My hood has everything a working-class area needs. Bodegas places of worship subway lines bad guys cops, liquor and lately ganja shops.

However, no bookstores.

Well not counting the Botanicas. These where you can get assorted religious texts life sized icons of saints and Je*us covered in blood. I prefer the Virgin Mary …less traumatic. Folks need what they need.

I'd do the store to see what would happen. If one showed up in a pre-gentrified way. Plenty of pricy Book Shoppe’s in the ethnically cleansed hoods in my part of town. That, and expensive health food supermarkets. Gimme a break I calls it as I sees it.

I’d like to do a bookshop for regular semi-insured check to check folks. A place where they 'and' everybody else would be very welcome. Heck I'd make a go what with having 'zero' competition. Okay, there’s the library but it’s a ghost of what it was. Pissed off uninterested civil service staff, and almost no one reading…other than a few old bleeps like me.

Okay so far this is a tale of urban horror, and almost makes you 'want’ gentrification. Which I would if it weren’t so much like what happened to the Plains Natives. In our case the settlers would be sitting over our bones eating tofu ice cream and reading Proust.

Almost forgot. Why do I love the idea of a bookstore.

Because I love to bleeping read. I wrote drew and used to publish my own small press books. Hand binding all that neat smarty pants crap. Back in the day. I was in with a whole gleeful deranged crowd that did just that.

We created Chapbooks...google them. This just to generally have fun, Before the internet folks used to read. That, and publish their dreams on office copiers offset presses hand cranked mimeo even carbon stencil. Like Soviet and now Putin era dissidents. Samizdat. ...google it. We had a fucking ball.

The memory of that happy noise stays with me as does the idea we all had of opening a bookstore. However, life, and responsibilities took over. Was just starting as a broadcast engineer. My comrades were also just beginning careers, and families. That, and so very many were lost in the AIDS pandemic. The rest is postponed history.

Centuries later the idea still swims drifts in the currents of my dreams. Yeah, a damned bookstore in the heart of a hood where they think no one would bother to even look at a book. Bleep that. I’d put it right between the liquor store, and the barber shop.

Constant cross over traffic.

The place would only need a core of 50 regular customers to pay the rent. So word of mouth free comic book days visits from assorted famous weirdos reading their stuff, and complimentary cookies would do it. Just 50 or so secret Dreamers. “Uncle Sydney’s Shop of Bewildered Wonderments” Has possibilities and would get me out of the house.

[dammit-tazmuir]

Riiiiiight. Like.

Based on one of Wake's notes and what Pyrrha's said, we can gather... Pyrrha just went "oh hot damn" at Wake's landmine energy and walked right up to her and kissed her. Apologized and said Wake could fully kill her but "only once have I met a man so willing to burn for what he believed, and I loved him on sight, and the first time I died I asked of him what I now ask of you." And Wake was into it actually but she thought Pyrrha was just Gideon, and later kissed Gideon without realizing, and??? Legendarily unamorous Gideon goes, okay hold on— lmao. And ofc Wake learned about Pyrrha but...

Did Gideon ever?? Did he NEED to stay in the dark and just live his whole lyctorhood with Memory Problems to avoid un-compartmentalizing her? Or did they end up working like Cam and Pal eventually? When if so? Wake was evading Gideon for two years but that was also the length of his affair. Were they fully enemies with benefits or WHAT WAS UP. What were each of their dynamics like??

AND JOHN..... Yeah... Like how much DID he let them remember... What DID he tell them about Alecto... How did everyone feel about her?

ALSO GIVE ME THEIR NAAAAAMES... Highkey suspect Mercy was some form of Mary, been leaning toward Marian or a variant of Maryann/Marianne/etc, mostly because one of the first descriptors HtN uses ti describe her face is "virginal" and her being the not-virgin not-but-almost-kinda-mother of Jesus, but also a few other reasons. Maybe Adam for Augustine just bc First but that might be too simple and obvious?? Cassiopeia still being Cassie but it's Cassandra and her House later DOES believe her warnings would be so funny... Idk I just wanna know...

For all the wild and compelling and mysterious and gut-wrenching and inspiring and amazing things in this series, why is the thing that I brainrot hardest about the OG lyctors. Like. Not even John. He's part of it but not even the main part. No, out of all these options, the thing that isn't even my favorite or the thing I think is best but just makes me most inexplicably feral is just...

M— and A— being never married, thrice divorced. Their relationships with John and his feelings toward them. G—'s devotion for so long. His and P—'s dynamic. Wanting to know more about C— and N—. More about Ulysses and Titania and if John had a way to reconstitute their souls or who he put in those bodies. About ALL the second gen followers; give me the Cyrus and Valancy lore. I want to know who first came up with cavs using swords and being fancy knights and fucking everything about Alfred and Cristabel before and after the Resurrection. What Augustine and Alfred's relationship was like before and after. Mercymorn and Cris's. Hell, Mercy and Alfred's, Augustine and Cris's.

And how everyone was affected by permeability of the soul.

If Cassiopeia wound up with such a pottery collection because Nigella was an artist, and she already loved it because her wife loved it, but then she got a more personal appreciation and love for art absorbing her.

If Augustine and Mercy found a new sort of comfort that deeply hurt and that they deeply hated and that they couldn't help but want on some level anyway in being with each other because Cris and Alfred were close and the part of Alfred in Augustine can recognize the part of Cris in Mercy and vice versa, and they know those feelings Aren't Theirs but they also are, now, and there's something painful yet yearning in the idea of indulging something they know they have because of their cavaliers.

I want a whole spin-off novel that we already know will end horribly but I'd take a short story or small anthology from their lives. I just... God I have so many feelings about characters we never even fucking met, let alone the ones we did.

[rpreaperperson]

5 : Corruption

For more : masterlist

While inside the jeep Claw slightly leans Soap's buffy arm fidgeting her fluffy tail, still sulking as Ghost glare at her

Feeling sorry for the Half breed Soap stroked her head while conversing with the two members of Los Vaqueros

“Kids, Guns, and Ballons that's a new one” quip Soap glancing at Ghost, Claw peaked from his side

Her ears tickled Soap's chin as the ears twitching, a beautiful city yet surrounded by death and corruption

“Where can we find him?” ask Soap

“Who?” Claw lifted her head stare at Soap curiously

“El Sin Nombre, Claw...didn’t you hear what we talking about?” Ghost scold her again

“I-I heard it..” she pout ears flatting against her head when Ghost wanted to lecture her again

“Relax L.T, don’t want our kitty to be sad, look at her!”

“give ‘im ‘that’ eyes” Soap whispered at her ear, and her mouth became O knowing what Soap means, meanwhile both Vaqueros felt sorry for Claw, especially Alejandro

“P-please Master...~ forgive me..” Alejandro's eyes widen open so is Ghost

‘Damn you Soap! you know my weakness!!’ mohawk man staring at the car window acting ignorant avoiding Ghost glares

“w-well...just..don’t do that again” Claw beamed and rubbed her face against his neck

“Okay Masterrr~ I loff youu~” grunted embarrassed he scratching Claw favorite spot

“pft..lof you too” Soap mutters but a certain Lieutenant sensed that he make fun of

“you got a problem there Sergant?”

“Nope” a smug face plastered against his face, then Rudy cleared his throat didn’t want to break any of their light converses but he has to, cause Alejandro starting to tremble.....and know the reason why...

‘Claw’ Alejandro snapped from the daze and back to business

“ ...back to our talk, You can’t find him. No one knows who he is. But he’s everywhere” Claw eyes caught onto a large painting of a Virgin Mary with El Sin Nombre written on it

‘He? But that painting over there...a woman..hmm..’ then she saw a group of cats laying on the side of streets

An idea formed in her head.

.

The time passed they arrived at the place where Hassan had been reportedly spotted. Claw hopping out from the jeep followed Ghost and Soap as they circled up preparing her guns ready to back into action.

‘hmm...something off’ as she sniffs the air

“Master Ale, where are they holding Hassan?” the Colonel choked on his saliva so is Rudy, and the other Vaqueros who listen widen their eyes

“W-Wha –“

“That’s how she’ll be calling you all now, get used to it” Ghost piped up, something told Alejandro that he got the same treatment from her

“Oh..of course, White two-story building. Back of town” Claw nodded and rushed into the door both Ghost and Soap know that she now in her battle mode, and ears twitching tried to sense an enemy behind the door.

“they’ve been waiting for us, Masters”

“Good” Ghost nodded, Soap smile proudly at her as the Vaqueros stare at her in amazement

And then the battle begins.

Taglist: @lilpothoscuttings @kaoyamamegami

[quill-beetlewing]

Quill reads:

The Eight Arrow

Chapter 1: Out of Depths

Part 2/2

Part 1 in case you missed it

I'm sorry Diomedes is BLOND???

"Diomedes knew when to shut the fuck up. Unfortunately for everyone however, I did not" - literally Odysseus

Damn, this'll be My Goodbye all over again, won't it?

LOOK AT ALL HIS HOPES AND DREAMS BEING UTTERLY CRUSHED BY ATHENA, GODDAMN-

Oh, alright so Athena is literally their mom, okay-

Honestly though, the "my sons" aside, this really feels like a mother telling her 9 year old children to go do something for her like taking out the trash and the kids taking it way too seriously.

"You've come to guide us out" :D

"Ah, you wish"

"But what are we supposed to do? We don't even know the way..."

"Yeah that's the point Diomedes, you absolute fucking moron."

Goddess of Wisdom? More like goddess of spitting absolute bars.

Athena, these two have been sitting in a flame for 3000 years, no need to roast them any further.

(Also watch as Athena is later on revealed to be like the Virgin Mary or something-)

Alright so this kinda confuses me.

Athena says they'll be teleported to the first circle of hell, "where the small-souled chase the wind", which I'm assuming is the actual first circle of hell, because the people there are basically forced to live in a tornado (very banal explanation of it, I know).

But then she mentions the entrance of hell...which isn't in the first circle. The first thing you see among entering Hell through the door is the Anti-Inferno, aka: the place where all the people that did neither bad nor good in life and that were forgotten stay in. Then you move down one circle and you find yourself in Limbo, the place where all good Pagan souls go. And only THEN you end up in the first circle.

Sooooo, which is it?

I mean I guess I COULD read ahead, but I'm trying to savor the experience little by little so we'll see.

I actually genuinely don't know if I want them to visit Limbo or not actually. Because on one hand, that's where all the Trojans (- Paris, he's in actual hell because Dante thought he was a pussy) are, which could be pretty interesting. On the other hand, I'm assuming this is where Penelope is (because you can't tell me she doesn't show up come on now) and I don't know if I want them reunion to happen so soon...

Again, we'll see :P

And yeah that's pretty much it for chapter 1. It was pretty short so I don't think I have a fully formed opinion on the book yet, but so far I'm having fun. As someone who's currently studying Dante's Inferno in class (and that likes it too), I am very curious to see where this goes.