#she’s like. fine in person. like normal levels of annoying

[bright-and-burning]

Instead of getting into a fight with the group chat you should tell us the lore behind why the vibes in that chat are so off. This is like at least the second time i’ve seen you post about it

it is suuuuuch a long story and for reasons that would take a while to explain satisfactorily i can’t kick this girl out of the group chat ok.

edit: this got medium long (at least on mobile) im . sorry akdhskdh its below a cut now

but basically she has no sense of boundaries and when you tell her a boundary she’ll be like ok so you hate me.. but ill follow it i suppose… and then break it two weeks later with glee. she’s aggressively contrary for the fun of it she has a superiority complex in a loooot of areas but especially morally she refuses to let anyone back out of an argument. she demands responses and guilt trips everyone if you don’t respond to her bait like “omg you guys are actually just ableist and hate neurodivergents” (half the group chat is neurodivergent lmfao). she would literally start hours long arguments abt taylor swift (this was SUCH a sticking point for her. and STILL is like it somehow got brought up AGAIN tonight) that boiled down to “if you enjoy any of her music you just haven’t thought about it long enough and unpacked your internalized misogyny. as soon as you do that you’ll see that i’m right.” would make people CRY and when anyone would be like we should stop this is just upsetting people she’d be like what do you mean you’re getting upset :( this is just a discussion :( this is so interesting to me :( why won’t you overexplain and justify your taste in music on demand for me :( like every single argument she just positions herself as the only moral option and if you disagree w her you just haven’t thought for yourself hard enough? one time she literally was like “eve i know you can have deeper thoughts than that” bc i refused to engage her trying to start the like fifth 3hr long tswift fight and i left the group chat for three months despite this being the era where i was unemployed depressed and living at home several hours away from anyone i was friends with. like i was literally like maintaining an easy connection with all of my friends is not worth being in the same digital space as her rn.

tonight she said that “it feels like you [collectively] don’t experience life” or like contemplate deep things like mortality or sentimentality and that our supposed lack of passion makes her depressed because… nobody responded to her messages abt her favorite band (that none of us listen to) within 2hrs. on a work night. which was viscerally upsetting in general (don’t particularly like having someone tell me they don’t think i have an inner life just bc i don’t engage on demand for them) but also in specific given how the last two weeks have been for me (having someone tell me i haven’t contemplated mortality and how tragic it is that we have limited time on this planet when im in the middle of a health scare that had me looking at my life insurance policy briefly last week)

[artdcnaldson]

patrick hive to the rescue because im thinking, as i often do, about friends to lovers with patrick where you're kind of upset because he and art have gotten around and you're still struggling on the dating scene, maybe you're shy, probably you just have standards, and its really just all starting to bug you because you're worked up!!!!! imagine hanging out with patrick during the summer - the room is sticky with humidity, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. you're hot and irritated and sexually frustrated. patrick being half clothed isn't helping, either - you can see the gleam of sweat on his bare chest - the dusking of hair on his thick thighs as he lounges back with a cigarette. you're going mad, it feels like you could detonate at any second your clit is so on fire - throbbing and achey and everytime you press you sweat slick thighs together it makes it worse.

patrick is looking at his phone - so you take the chane - just a small touch - just for some relief. you're on the bed, there's a plushi blocking his view - it cant hurt just to slide a sneaky hand down the band of your shorts and panties. just to stroke your swollen slit. surely he wont noitce if you just...... rub yourself a little. while you sneak glances at his toned body - just peeks, really. if you're very quiet (you do realize the sticky squelch of your cunt can be heard across the room, right? you dont) you might even be able to cum undetected

GODDDDD FUCK!!!! This was supposed to be a chill, normal, short response. Instead I ignored 2 work calls bc it’s that serious.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (exibitionism/voyeurism, f!masturbation, not fingering but a secret third adjacent thing, extreme levels of horniness)

A/N: Patrick Hive we Linked and Built <3

Patrick thought it was so sweet that you invited him to visit your home for the summer. Apparently you’d sung nothing but his praises to your parents, because even though you were both eighteen, they let him sleep on the floor of your room on a blow up mattress, trusting him that much.

Which was annoying. You weren’t fucking Patrick (not for lack of wanting to), but they could’ve at least given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed that you might have some sort of sexual urges. It made your stupid fucking celibacy that much more embarrassing.

You’re home alone with him and the power’s out— a stupid, heat-induced rolling blackout. The open window only seems to usher in more hot summer air, so you’re both down to as few layers as would be appropriate. You, were down to a thin T-shirt and your panties. Patrick was only in a pair of grey nylon shorts. Sweat was beading down his bare chest, which was so fucking unfair.

Because it was Patrick, whose chest hair and happy trail made your mouth fill with drool any time you were treated to the sight of it. It was summer, and he was frequently shirtless, and you still hadn’t gotten used to the sight. Any sane person would want to lave their tongue along his chest, tasting the sweat and salt of his skin. That was… so totally normal to think about.

Patrick fucked your neighbor— the cute one who was going to a state school so she could be a kindergarten teacher. You didn’t know, but you were pretty sure. You’d been swimming in the pool during a cul-de-sac cookout, and they’d disappeared after a while. Patrick didn’t say anything that night, probably to protect your delicate sensibilities, but you could just kind of sense it.

God, it was unfair. All of the guys your age had girlfriends, or something. And the single ones were cute, but Patrick always seemed to fuck things up for you, either actively, or because you would always wind up talking about him. And because your parents thought it was totally fine for him to sleep in your room, you were surviving off of weak, rushed orgasms in the shower.

It was supposed to be a fun, sexy summer before you went off to college, and Patrick was totally ruining it. How was it fair that he got to fuck around and get his rocks off while you spent your summer feeling like you were wearing a fucking chastity belt?

And you were so wet it was uncomfortable, sticky between your thighs with absolutely no relief. Patrick was sitting on the fucking Air mattress, propped up by your cute, pink pillows and plushies that he’d stolen, watching a rerun of The Hills on MTV. His hand dangled out the open bedroom window so the smell of smoke wouldn’t get stuck in your innocent little bedroom.

He stretched, and you watched with an open mouth as he blew the cigarette smoke out the window. Pretty fucking lips, his muscles all taut as he turned. He looked back at the TV, and you exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck, you were so turned on you wanted to scream. Your pussy was just drooling into your panties, clit throbbing and aching for attention, your entire body felt empty, desperate to be filled up.

You were practically buried in your stuffed animal collection, which was embarrassing on any other day (Patrick had nearly laughed at the sight, but you’d insisted that you couldn’t just throw all of them away… they were nostalgic), but you’d never been more grateful until that moment.

You were already pretty well covered, thanks to the near life size bear sitting beside you— the perfect safety net. Your pulse was thundering in your chest, making you feel a little dizzy with anxiety or arousal, or a strange new mix of both.

You were burning hot between your thighs— throbbing and soaked all sticky and slick. Your legs twitched instinctively as your fingertips dipped into your core, where a pool of your arousal awaited. A shaky gasp escaped you as you moved your slick fingers up to your neglected clit, and you quickly muffled the noise into your pillow

It was like you’d never really touched yourself before. The level of need and desperation within you was completely unknown until that point. Your eyes rolled back as you began grinding up against your fingers. Your teeth dug into your lip to stay quiet as you played with your clit as discreetly as you could.

Patrick shifted to get more comfortable. Flexing his thighs just slightly, rubbing sweaty palms against the muscles there. He ashed his cigarette with his gaze locked on the TV. “This shit is so boring,” he muttered.

And fuck, his voice. You considered arguing with him, just so he’d get louder, and his voice would get more intense, and you’d be able to fuck yourself to completion to the sound of him speaking.

Your poor, neglected pussy clenched around absolutely nothing, begging to be filled by his dick, his fingers, your fingers, a toy, a hairbrush, fucking anything. Your panties were absolutely sodden— drenched to the point of forming a transparent little spot right above your cunt.

If Patrick had looked over, or, if he had unfocused his eyes just right and peered into the reflection of the TV screen, he would’ve been able to make out the sight of your fingers, moving steadily, desperately against your clit. If he had done that.

Your toes curled just slightly, thighs closing around your hand as you got closer and closer. It was loud— just how much you were moving. You needed— god, you needed so much in that moment. You grabbed a random plushie— a pink rabbit that you probably got with that years’ Easter basket— and held it over your lap. Yeah, that worked. Super casual, perfect way to hide the way your hand was working your clit.

And the pressure. Jesus Christ, the pressure of the warm stuffed animal over your cunt was too nice to resist. You’d have to throw it away after, you knew, but you couldn’t help but grind yourself up against it. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was his lap, or his thigh, or something warm and soft and hard for you to rut against.

But you couldn’t close your eyes, because you had to watch Patrick. To make sure he didn’t know what you were doing. An arm slung behind his head, the muscles highlighted by the shiny sheen of sweat there. You whimpered pathetically, muffled into the pillows. He probably heard, he pretended he didn’t. It was that level of feigned ignorance that let you keep going.

He probably knew, you could pretend he didn’t. The razor’s edge between you and a much needed, earth-shattering orgasm hinged on that level of ignorance.

So you pathetically humped against your fingers, and the stuffed rabbit, and chased at the bliss that was so fucking close you could taste it like metal on your tongue. Your thighs squeezed around the rabbit as you came, soaking through and making even more of a mess of your panties, and the rabbit, and your sheets, and your fingers.

You hadn’t realized how loud you were breathing. It was like someone had been holding you underwater and you could only just now hear the world with a shocking sense of clarity. Your body felt hot all over, your legs felt like jelly. You hid the stuffed rabbit beneath a discarded blanket, a problem for later. Legs crossed so you could hide the soaked mess between your legs.

Sure, you could play that off.

“You could’ve asked me to leave,” Patrick said around his cigarette. There was a twist to his lips, a sense of amusement. “Nah, you probably didn’t want me to. Too busy eye fucking me while you defiled that poor little bunny.”

He stood, noticeably hard in his shorts, which you weren’t looking at weren’t looking at weren’t looking at. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, all while wearing the smug sort of expression that got you to this position in the first place. Really, it was all his fault. His eyes trailed up your legs, to the glistening mess coating your upper thighs, and the sheer mess of your panties.

“Huh.” His hands moved up your thighs and you exhaled shakily, parting them more to accommodate him, whatever he wanted, whatever he was thinking. You could come a thousand more times just for him, at his every whim. But that was the repression talking, not just because of him.

Your breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and he peeled them down. His expression held the same sort of concentration that you saw him exhibit on the court. Focused on you, it made your heart pound.

“No wonder you were so loud, huh?” He teased, fingers gliding through your slit. It was embarrassing how wet you were, coating his fingers and palm in your arousal. Each light brush against your clit made your thighs twitch, made a desperate keen escape you. “I could hear it the second you started, by the way. But even before that, I could fucking smell how turned on you were. You could’ve said something, you know. I would’ve taken care of you, made it real nice.”

You moaned softly, eyes wide as you peered up at him. When he removed his hands from your pussy you fucking whined— pouting as he held his fingers up to the light and grinned at the glistening mess left behind. You watched those fingers disappear between plush lips, tongue sweeping out to clean them up. His cock jumped behind the shorts he wore from want.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you insisted, sitting up to rub him through the fabric. “It’s hot, we’re both horny and bored. Just use me. It’ll feel nice.”

He didn’t take much convincing. He’d been rubbing his dick raw on that stupid fucking inflatable mattress every night when you were asleep anyway. How could he not? You were just too adorable.

@poppy-metal your mind amazes me no words no thoughts just this <3 thank youuuuuu for this in my inbox it truly kept me fed

[gleefullypolin]

The hypocrisy on fandom's reaction of "fell too soon" for friends to lovers

I find it very RICH on the fandoms reaction to S3 and the he "fell too soon" for Penelope. I mean honestly it is a bit spit in your face fantastic the way certain parts of the fandom are wretching on themselves to make that point.

"He didn't like her in season 1." I'm sorry, Can't hear you over "I'm to escort Miss Featherington to the floor" in EPISODE 1. That's what a friend does when a bitch spills her drink on a girl you were having a polite conversation with. Or how about hanging out with her laughing and gossiping like silly goofballs on the side of the dance floor, didn't see him doing that with other people either. Because they were FRIENDS.

"There was no build up previously to show there was a level of friendship there where he saw her any differently than a sister." Ok children...lets move to Season 2. We can talk about the race track and how they spoke about his travels which was very comfortable and very much NOT like a sister. They had an ease, like people who, oh I don't know, had been communicating personally all summer long via letters. And then lets go to Edwina's night where he shares with her that her letters allowed him to get in touch more with HIMSELF. something also so very personal he would not just share that with anyone. (I'll get to this in another point)

"He just suddenly likes her after he kisses her." Big ball of monkey shit here. Colin Sensitive Bridgerton was getting to know himself back in Season 2. He told Pen as much when he gave her the "You are Pen" line. And yes we all gasped and grabbed our pearls at the You are not a woman line, but it was not meant as an insult. Colin inserts his foot so many times throughout the seasons, you would think he could run a mile with his head. He simply means that she is such a dear friend to him he could not forswear her from his life. He has put her in a different category all together in his life. He makes this point when talking to her about Cousin Jack. He calls her constant and loyal and makes mention that their relationship has been so natural to him. He also just soooooo easily makes mention to HER MOTHER that he's been talking to her about things that would make other women blush. Like he doesn't even see it himself that she's just a totally different place for him. He didn't have to kiss her to like her. He already did.

"It all just felt too rushed." I could go on about how they had conversations about their purpose or lack there of, in season 2, more than once might I add, conversations that you would not normally have with members of the opposite sex. The fact that he has told her and proved that he would look after her, he has called her special to him. He has had feelings for her for seasons. Don't get started about the longing stares, they have been there since season 1. You have to actually open your eyes and look at them. Yes there was the whole infatuation of the Marina thing. Of course there was. But if you look at his mannerisms during the entire thing, it screams at you the difference.

But dare I say the biggest and most annoying hypocrisy of them all is that this build up of 2 seasons of them growing friendship, talking and learning about each other, developing feelings for each other regardless if they know what they mean... suddenly is rushed. BUT when compared to other seasons where a brand new face appears and we are to believe that in a weeks time our beloved character is now madly, deeply in love with this person and YOU BUY THAT WITH ALL THE SUGAR IT COMES WITH! Burning for you and Bane of my existence and all????

At the end of the day...live in your trope. I sat through those seasons. I cried through their HEA, I was happy for them. You can dislike the characters for other reasons. Dislike how they wrote parts of the season, don't like the plot points but don't make the excuses above that don't add up.

If you don't enjoy my trope, fine. But please, in the nicest possible way, shut the fuck up.

[theriverbeyond]

some meandering thoughts on Lyctoral reproduction, contraception, and why I DON'T think Pyrrha hit it raw

this was originally a reblog of another post but it became SO LONG i am just posting it by itself. anyway cracks knuckles:

I think from a reproductive health standpoint the Lyctors are, despite having been exposed to extreme pre-ressurection levels of radiation, not sterile per say, but homeostatically fixed at the point of ascension with any changes made to themselves after that being a concious theorem. See: Cytherea is frozen as sick as she was when she ascended, but when she wanted to fight she could walk around fine, and Harrow when cold, can pad her fat reserves. So they CAN change their bodies, but it's still a Thing They Have To Do vs. a truly autonomous bolidy process.

Also, we know Lyctoral Healing is a thing dependant on nerve fibers -- why a severed limb (Nona/Gideon-in-Harrow aside) is not supposed to automatically regrow (but can be intentionally regrown, with thought and effort), and why in order to imbue Ianthe's bone arm with regenerative power Harrow had to make sure it was properly innervated

(The reason I believe they are not inherently sterile despite having been exposed to massive amounts of radiation is simply because that radiation does not discriminate and would have destroyed the rest of their physical bodies as well. basically, I think any radiation induced infertility would have been fixed in the Ressurection Process, same as the radiation induced. death.)

At the same time, the biological changes a human body must undergo to fertilize an egg and then bring a pregnancy to term are many (on a physical and physiologic level) and all must happen in the correct sequence at the correct time. the adult unaltered, non-Lyctoral body (most of the time) naturally knows how to follow this path, but in order for a Lyctoral Body to bring a pregnancy to term all those minute changes would have to be done manually, lest the Lyctoral Body revert to its homeostatically frozen state.

Therefore, my thoughts are: a Lyctor wouldn't really be able to become pregnant on accident to begin with, much less carry a pregnancy to term unwillingly. Every minute step or shift or change in hormone levels, uterine stretch, etc would have to be manually preformed and then monitored 24/7 which just seems incredibly exausting if not annoying. Then, of course, you have the reality that the Lyctor is going to outlive their child by thousands of years if not forever, and after the catastrophic grief they all carry for their cavaliers I cannot imagine any of them willingly putting themselves in that situation.

why, then, did Pyrrha think Gideon was her child?

WELL! the above theoretical process is specific to a Lyctor becoming pregnant, either from Lyctor or non-Lyctor. For Pyrrha/G1deon, the person who may have become pregnant from their encounters was WAKE, a (as far as we know) physiologically normal human, whose body would be able to like. in the presense of viable sperm, get pregnant the usual way without need for necromantic initiation and maintenence. Not only that, but at the time, Wake could NOT have been taking any sort of continuous contraceptive, as the planning/execution/impregnation of Dios Apate Major/Project Bomb was happening at the same time as Wake was fucking Pyrrha and G1deon. Like I know Mercy gave her the dolls but like Wake was able to turkey baster herself pretty quickly after their failure which means there was an open window of time where Wake was fucking PyrrhaG1deon and definitely fertile.

I could see G1deon as being able to tie off his ductus deferens, or whatever, while he is having sex to prevent physical ejaculation but as we know from Gideon-in-Harrow and Pyrrha-in-G1deon and Cam-when-Pal-Was-Inside, the cavalier's soul cannot preform necromancy whilst in the driver's seat. SO, following that, Pyrrha would be unable to necromantically prevent herself from ejaculating whilst doing the deed.

and finally, we have come to the part where I explain why I do NOT believe Pyrrha was having unprotected sex. as funny it is to imagine them all hitting it raw with a huge breeding kink, given Pyrrha and not to mention WAKE'S general competency (and also like if Wake is trying to get pregnant with the key to the Emperor's Tomb, being already pregnant would have been really inconvinient!!! considering again that the impregnation of ProjectBomb happened at the same time as she was fucking PyrrhaG1deon, Wake HAS to have been taking steps to prevent an unwanted, competing pregnancy), I have to take the controversial position that the condom broke.

Imagine you are a soul fragment, 10,000 years old, and you are betraying your God and Emperor AND your other half, by fucking a rebel comander (using your other half's body) while both of them are unaware. and then the condom breaks. wyd

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

There’s only one bed

Summary: you and Nat go in a mission and there’s only one bed

Word Count: 1.7k

fluff

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Natasha's POV:

Fury Just called me into his office to have a mission debriefing. Normally we'd have the brief with all the Avengers but, this is an undercover mission and let's just say majority of the team aren't very good at that. They blow their cover all the time and can't persuade people to save their lives. Ironic because that's exactly what it does on missions, save their life.

I've been told I'm going with someone but a name hasn't been given yet. I hope it's not an Agent from the academy. They're all newbies so I'll have to hold their hand the whole mission because they're clueless. As I'm walking I bump into Wanda.

"Oh hey, good luck on your mission!" she cheerfully said.

"Thanks also, do you know who I'm going with? I mean like any details about them?"

"All I know is apparently she's very popular among her fellow students, and by that I mean, she's hot."

"Students?! Great, so she's from the academy?"

"Yeah but, Fury wouldn't send her with you if she couldn't handle it."

"I guess your right but they can be really annoying needing to be walked through every single step of the mission."

"I guess you're right but, rumour has it, she's the best of the best. Your level even."

"Ha, I've heard that one a hundred times before, no one's better than me c'mon Wands you know that."

"Haha, yeaah I know Nat but just give her a chance?"

"Fine, I will but, I got to get to Fury now, I'll see you around."

"Bye, good luck!"

We parted ways and I gave her a smile. I walked into Fury's office and was welcomed by the sight of a beautiful woman with wavy y/h/c and shining y/e/c eyes. I going to be honest Wanda wasn't lying, she's perfect. Oh my god, I can't be thinking about these things she's my mission partner! She was already sat down in a chair opposite Fury when I came in so I took the chair beside her.

Fury started talking first, "Thank you for both making the time to be here, as you know this is an undercover mission so, pack a bag that'll last at least 2 day and 2 nights. We can never predict what'll happen at these kind of events."

"Speaking of, what event is it and why exactly are we going?" I questioned

"Well I'm glad you asked. It's part organised by Darren McHugh, not a big name in any industry but filthy rich. Attending the party is Lauren Emerson, your target. All you need is information from her about a weapon Hydra is developing. Her father has every Hydra scientist and engineer in his pocket so, she'll know a lot. Now, she's interested in women which is why there is no men on this case with you. I need you y/n to seduce her and get intel while Natasha watches your 6 and looks for another possible target who, isn't confirmed to be there, but there's a good chance he will be.” Fury explained.

"What's the other guys name?" the other girl asked Fury responded, "James Scott."

"Is that all?" I ask

"Yes that's all. Here's your personal copies of the file and be ready at the quinjet in 30 minutes."

With that we both left but I couldn't help feel a pang of disappointment shoot through me at the thought of her flirting with other people. Damn I really need to snap out of this.

I got up to my room and pack my things. I also put in my red dress and black heels for the party and go to the quinjet. As I'm walking I see her already standing there. She catches me staring as I walk towards her and she extends her hand.

Reader POV:

I look over and see Agent Romanoff coming towards me, eyes trained directly at me. I offer my hand for her to shake and she does. "Agent y/l/n, y/n y/l/n."

“Natasha Romanoff.” She responds

With that we both boarded the ship, settled down and engaged in conversation. It was a long flight and we were going to have to spend the next 24-48 hours together so, may as well get to know each other. This conversation however turned into shamelessly flirting with each other constantly.

Time skip to when the ship lands and they get to the hotel (still reader pov):

We get the the hotel and Natasha asks for our reservation at the front desk. While she's doing that I take a minute to really take in this place because it's massive. There's a chandelier on the ceiling and art all over the walls. The architecture is beautiful and it has gold accents along every wall. It also smelt like vanilla, don't know why that's relevant but it smells nice.

I hear a 'thank you' and 'enjoy your stay' so I assume that Nat has got the key so I begin walking to the lift (elevator). I step in and so does Natasha just a bit behind me. She presses the button to the 5th floor and we stand in a comfortable silence for the short 10 second ride. The doors open with a ding and we step out and go look for our room. Natasha takes the lead and goes straight to our door and opens it with the key card.

"Wow Shield really outdid themselves with this one ay?" I think aloud

"Yeah, they really did." She agreed

As we were walking around the both of us were quick to realise something.

"There's only one bed." Natasha pointed out

"I was just thinking the same thing. I'll take the sofa I don't mind at all." I say trying to come up with a solution.

"No, it's okay I can." Natasha instantly tries to shut me down

"Honestly I'll sleep there it's fine." I repeat

"Look uhm, you don't have to but to save ourselves a very polite argument do you wanna just share it. I mean it's a double so..?" She nervously asked

"Yeah sure I mean, if your up for it?" I half mumble

"I'm the one who suggested it dummy of course i'm up for it."

I chuckle at her response and put down my bags by the bed. If I was being honest with myself I couldn't help the butterflies that formed when thinking about sharing a bed with her. Goddamnit, she's my superior I can't be thinking like this.

Natasha POV:

I brush my teeth and get changed in the bathroom whilst y/n orders room service. When I walk out she was getting changed so she only had a bra and pyjama trousers on.

"Oh.., oh! I'm so sorry!"

No sorry it's my fault I should've told you I was changing."

"It's fine, I mean we're both girls right? Nothing we haven't seen before."

"Yeah, yeah you're right, both girls."

"Never seen a girl with abs like that though."

The blush spread on her face faster than a forrest fire. She was flustered and I took great pride in knowing I did that. I made my way to the kitchen so I'd be ready for room service when it came.

Three knocks at the door alerted me that the food was here. I thanked the staff and put the food on the counter.

"Hey y/n tea's here!" I yelled to her. (It depends where your from but tea is just how we say evening meal, like dinner)

"Thank god, i'm starving." She gave me bright smile before plating everything up.

We sit on the sofa with our food and watch whatever trashy TV shows are on. We laugh at parts of it and it gives me butterflies, her laugh has quickly become my favourite sound. It's just so beautiful and care free, it also means she's happy which makes me happy. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear her softly say.

"Hey you okay? Lost you for a second there."

“Yeah, oh um, yeah I'm fine just thinking."

“About what? You were very focused."

"Nothing don't worry about it. Anyway, it's late we should go to bed."

"Your right I'll take the plates into the kitchen."

While she was doing that I went to the bedroom and set up the bed. I was laying down when she came in, she tentatively lowered herself o to the bed and layer down facing me.

"You sure it was nothing?"

"It wasn't really nothing and I'm about to talk a lot and I don't want you to talk till I'm done okay?" I respond with a hesitancy in my tone.

"Go for it." she says.

"I like you, like really like you. I know it's wrong because I'm your superior and your not even out the academy yet but I'm 25 and your what like, 20, 21 give or take so it's not like it's weird. Also can you blame me? You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect. Even though we only just met I can't help falling for you y/n. I'm sorry if I've just ruined the friendship we built today but I really needed to get that off my chest."

I look her deep in the eyes for any kind of reaction to what I just said. After a couple seconds of processing she smiled at me. Probably the biggest smile i've ever seen her have. She still hasn't said anything so I speak up. "Well?"

She doesn't answer me, instead she gently grabs my face and kisses me softly. Our lips dance against one another as second nature. Once air becomes a problem we release from each other's grasp.

"I like you too, if that wasn't already clear."

She giggled like a school girl when I grabbed her waist and started peppering kisses all over her face. She stopped and snuggled closer to me and buried her head in my chest.

"This woman is the one for me" I thought to myself as I held her safe in my arms. Although I really wasn't looking forward to this mission now.

[prentissluvr]

closer, and closer still — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x bau!gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff ➖⟢ cw : situation that could cause claustrophobia (very crowded elevator), kissing ➖⟢ wc : 2K

it's natural to get in the elevator with luke. you've done it a million times, just the two of you or with other members of the team. tonight it's because you both stayed late to finish your reports; everyone else left before you besides emily, who's, as she often is, still in her office. there's not much conversation between the two of you tonight, both tired after a long day and an even longer case. but still, it's comfortable—once again, natural.

what's not natural is the amount of workers who pile into the small space the floor below yours. you do your best to ignore the way heat begins to rise into your cheeks when he immediately steps in front of you, trying to casually block you off from anyone else because he knows that you’d hate being squished against any strangers in such a cramped space. he's quite close, only inches away, and he sends you that crooked smile he has when he's trying to make an annoying situation seem at least a little humorous. and that's just fine, even though it sends your heart into a fluttering mess. until one more stubborn person decides that there's got to be room for them, and luke gets pushed right into you.

one of his hands braces himself on the wall beside you, the other right on your shoulder. normally, you'd laugh at his surprised expression, but his body flush against yours seems to have you malfunctioning.

"jeez," he mutters under his breath, the scoff only audible to you over the noise of the man who thinks it's a great idea to have a loud conversation over the phone right now. the look he gives you is apologetic as he goes to remove his hand from your shoulder, but he's caught in such an awkward position that he can't move it more than a few inches away from you. and he's so worried about making you uncomfortable with too much physical contact that he just lets his hand hover there.

that's when you let out a quiet laugh, one that only he can hear.

you just can’t help it, with the cautious look on his face and the well-meaning, but awkward action of trying not to touch you, as if the rest of his body weren’t pressed against yours.

he raises his eyebrows, confused by your laughter.

“what’s that about?” the fact that so many people are around to hear compels him to speak in a hushed tone.

“i don’t mind,” you say, doing your best to look him in the eye as you tell him. he just cocks his head to the side a bit, telling you he doesn’t want to assume what you mean by that. so, you plunder on. “you don’t have to keep your hand like that. i don’t mind when you touch me.” when those words escape your mouth, you have to admit, that’s not how you meant to say it, but the way that a smile tugs at his lips makes it feel worth it.

“right,” he nods. he still seems careful when he lets his hand rest against your shoulder again, and the weight of it causes your eyes to dart away from his face.

neither of you can find anything else to say for the remainder of the elevator ride, but it’s not the end of the world considering that it only lasts for another thirty seconds. though, admittedly, it feels a bit more like an eternity to you. 

when the doors open to the garage level, and people file out of the cramped area, there’s finally space for him to step away from you. but your heart flutters at the fact that there’s no rush on his part. his hand slips away from you, and he takes a step backwards before turning his body around. he lingers at the doors to keep them open, motioning for you to go first.

“after you,” he smiles, ever the gentleman despite his habit of constant teasing. you hope he catches the quick smile you send him as you whisk past him and into the parking garage. he’s back at your side in a second, walking with you in the direction of your car. 

“hey, uh,” he stops you when you’re only halfway there, saying your name in a way that feels too nice. “can i take you home?”

you resist a grin. “if you’ll pick me up in the morning. there’s no way in hell i’m taking public transport if you’re making me leave my car here.”

he doesn’t bother hiding his own grin, “deal.” there’s a pause before he realizes that, of course, you’re standing in the middle of a parking lot, and you don’t know where his car is. “my car’s this way,” he clarifies, pointing with his thumb to the opposite side of the garage.

“making me work for it, huh?” you tease. he chuckles, resisting the sudden urge he has to slip his arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side. he wants you close, and closer still, he realizes.

“don’t forget i’m the one who’s gotta do all the driving.”

“oh, poor, poor luke. the guy’s offered to drive me and now he’s complaining about it!” making fun of him is just too easy. you love the way it always makes him smile.

“couldn’t complain about spending more time with you.”

now that throws you off. it stops you in your tracks for just a moment as you finally reach the passenger’s side of his car and he loops around to get in the driver’s seat.

“you getting in or not?” he calls. trying to pretend he hasn’t flustered you at all, you pop the door open and climb inside.

once you’re in and buckled, you peek at him subtly as he starts the car. “thank you for driving me home, luke.”

“of course. it’s my pleasure,” he smiles genuinely before backing his car out of the parking lot. it’s confirmed; he looks very hot doing that. once you’re out of the parking lot, you both immediately notice the rain falling from the sky.

“i didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight,” you comment, “though that’s not too much of a surprise here, of course.”

he lets out a light laugh, “yeah, i didn’t know either. i’m just glad it’s not rush hour any more.”

“god, tell me about it. the only good thing to come out of staying late to do paperwork is avoiding the traffic.”

his response isn’t quite what you expect, not just a generic phrase signalling he finds your statement relatable. “i can think of something else good to come out of that.” his tone is full of implications. you don’t want to assume what he means by that, but you can certainly hope he’s talking about this.

“really? like what?” it’s always more fun to play along.

“well,” he begins. you adore that he never tries to hide the smile in his expressions from you, even if that means he’s kind of giving himself away. it just feels like you’re the one making him smile like that, and that’s one hell of a compliment purely because of how pretty his smile is. “staying late doing paperwork meant that i could take the elevator with you, walk with you, and drive you home. bonus, i get to pick you up in the morning too. that’s some pretty good stuff, if you ask me.”

at that, your face is far more flushed with heat than just five minutes ago when he was stuck right against you in the elevator. and that’s saying a whole lot, considering the fact that you were afraid he’d be able to tell just how flustered you were from your body heat alone. he says it all in a way that no coworker, not even friend, would, and you want to run with it until he’s kissing you goodnight at your doorstep, then beyond. issue is, you can’t think of something good enough to say to let him know that’s what you want. you hope it’s not too bold, but all you can think of to do is tell him just that.

“would it maybe… be a good thing too… if i, um, if i asked you to kiss me goodnight when you, like the gentleman i know you are, walk me to my door?” when those words come out of your mouth and his eyes dart back and forth from you and the road, you realize that’s probably not the best thing to ask while he’s in the middle of driving. but like always, the grin on his face makes it completely worth it.

“that would be amazing,” he says unabashedly, timing his words perfectly with a pause at a stop sign so he can look you in the eyes while he says it. he has just enough time to catch the grin on your face to match his. it seems you’re both too giddy to say anything else for the next few seconds, but he breaks quickly, turning on his turn signal to pull off to the side of the road. “dammit, i don’t think i can wait,” he explains as he pulls the car completely out of traffic’s way, “can i please kiss you now?” he turns to you with every pure intent in his eyes and words. you almost giggle at his desperation, but it makes you feel far too excited, nervous, and wanted even for you to do anything but nod in approval.

“please,” you want him to know you need it just as badly as him. so, in an instant, you’re both leaning in over the middle console to feel the other’s lips on yours. his hand’s on the side of your face and you can’t help but hold onto his arm as if you’ll melt away without his strong frame to ground you there. and there’s his lips, his goddamn perfect lips that jj caught you staring at the other day, the ones that now mold against yours, all soft and needy at the same time. he savors you like there’s nothing quite as divine as your, like he’s been waiting and waiting to have you. to be fair, he has for months at this point. all that he cares about now, though, is that you want him too.

when he finally pulls away, he only does so enough to rest his forehead against yours and look you in the eyes with the most endeared gaze he can muster. he doesn’t let his hand fall away from your face, happily recalling the way you told him that you don’t mind when he touches you. seems like maybe you even like it, were he to flatter himself. of course, you’re thinking about how you absolutely adore his touch, how it already feels like you could never get enough.

“i don’t know how i’m gonna get you all the way home like this,” he half-jokes through a smile before fully moving away to resume the drive. but first, he takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, then a heart-fluttering kiss to the knuckles.

the smile you return to him is a bit sly, though he can’t see it as he pulls back into the lanes of traffic. “well, your place is closer, is it not?" you begin carefully, "you won’t even have to pick me up in the morning that way.” you're a bit scared to intrude by inviting yourself over, but the expression on his face makes it clear that you are more than welcome.

“gosh,” he laughs in surprise, clearly pleased by your proposition, “you are very right. roxy will be excited to see you.” and he's very, very excited to keep kissing you.

[my-castles-crumbling]

I have a problem Cas… I think im in love. 

Okay so, there’s this girl. We’ve been best friends like 5 years. I mean i’ve always- okay I don’t know how to explain this. 

I’m basically a fan-fiction come to fucking life. 

So i’m Demisexual, and last year I decided to come out to my family. I don’t know if other Demi ppl have preferences of gender, but I don’t. Honestly labels confuse me. I’m not sure if technically i’m Biromantic and Demisexual but hey, the point is- and what I explained to my family- that i’d be open to dating anyone. 

Basically i was telling them I wasn’t straight. (Obviously Demisexual is also about sexual activities and people and stuff but I wasn’t gonna try and explain to my parents that I don’t really get attracted to random ppl- cause they don’t get it- and I didn’t want to accidentally start talking abt sex). 

So anyway, they were not happy. Have you watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine? There’s this clip where the character Rosa comes out as Bi and her parents are like “That’s okay, since you can still date a man and marry a man and be normal” and they were like that for me (i’m a girl in case that wasn’t obvious- so they wanted me to date a man).

And I didn’t really care to be honest. I had an equal level of straight friends to queer friends, I felt suitably in both worlds. I truly love my family. They’ve always been good to me. But they did imply if I did end up with a girl, they wouldn’t want to meet/know her.

Not to mention the religious trauma. I spent a shit ton of time listening to ppl tell me that same-sex marriage and relationships are a “sin”. Hell- there was this one rlly lovely women at church when I was like 9, but she got kicked out when they congregation found out she was a lesbian. (Okay- not kicked out but like bullied into leaving).

So it was fine for me to accept that I could potentially date a women since i’ve never felt immediate attraction to anyone, it never felt totally real. 

BUT NOW I HAVE A PROBLEM. So my best friend (who is also a girl) of 5 years. She’s amazing. She’s literally the funniest person i’ve ever met, she’s so generous and has helped me so much, and she’s just adorable. She’s like fucking sunshine. And ngl, I don’t often like people who are so cheery all the time because it feels fake and I like people around me to be honest. 

But she just, she has this way of finding the beauty in the stupidest things and it’s so cute. We got splashed by a car the other day, drenched both our outfits, and instead of being mad, she got all excited and had us do a photoshoot in our crazy soaked clothes, and then got all excited that we could cuddle under a duvet and watch a movie with snacks once we got home cause apparently that’s the only acceptable thing people can do after being covered in water (which is exactly what we did).

And she’s not unreasonably happy, you know? Like when people try to cheer people up at bad times and make everyone more sad, she’s not like that. Whenever i’m upset, or mad, she’ll doodle these cute little flowers on coloured paper and write things she loves about the world on the back of them, and once i’m done ranting abt how annoying the world is, she’ll give it to me and smile. She has the best smile.

I have this jar, I write the date on them and put the paper in the jar. 

We’ve been best friends five years, she started doing that like four years ago and i’ve had the jar pretty much from the start. 

It’s always been easy to be around her. We sort of knew each other for like a year, and then I blinked, and we were best friends. I read all the books she gives me even though the plot is super cheesy cause she loves talking about them, I learnt how to bake all her favourite snacks her mum made, cause she’s pretty far from home and honestly a tragic baker. And she cooks dinner (don’t ask how she can’t bake to save her life but is the most incredible cook, it’s unbelievably ridiculous) for us a lot, she learnt to make my fav food. 

We technically live together, we’re at the final year of uni (maybe not tho depending on our next courses, I dunno) so we’ve been living together this year, but before that, I basically spent most of my time around her place anyway.

So yeah, we’re friends. But I realised a few months ago that i’m pretty, definitely, in love with her. I think i’ve felt like this for about a year and it just hadn’t quite clicked yet. 

(I had this awful day and came back to our place to see her genuinely painting our wall a different colour of white. She paints as a hobby and accidentally splatter a ton of blue paint on the wall and freaked out and tried buying white paint to cover it when it wouldn’t wash of and she was sat on the floor with white paint all over her and the wall still blue. 

She told me the story and I burst out laughing. I explained you often need white primer first, to cover the blue, and then to buy the correct shade of white, since ours was sort of chill white and she’d bought bright white. 

It’s the type of thing that would’ve annoyed me so much at the end of such a tough day, but because it was her, I just found it adorable. That’s when it clicked, I love her. She noticed I was tired immediately and felt bad cause she realised i’d had a bad day. I said this cheered me up, cause it did. Then we made dinner together and spent the night reading on the sofa with music on. 

We went to the shop the next day to get the correct stuff and luckily our wall is back to looking almost exactly the same). 

So yeah, I love her. Plus like, being demi, I don’t usually find ppl attractive… I mean i’ve always known she’s aesthetically pleasing, she has good fashion sense and stuff, but like, I tend to view all people as the same sort of level of attractive. BUT NOW ITS LIKE- SHES FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. It’s kind of annoyingly actually. How is everyone not spending all day gazing at her eyes. They’re fucking caramel, like a book character. She says they’re brown but she’s wrong. In dull lighting they seem brown but they’re like dark orange (amber i guess) with little hues of green, but in the sun they’re really bright and caramel and warm. 

She’s a lesbian btw. So theoretically I’ve got a shot. Also, i’ve always been good at reading people and I know she’s had like a small crush on me at least twice in our friendship. You can tell sometimes. 

But recently, it’s been a wreck. I’m so distracted cause i’m in love with her I can’t think, and my friends keep telling me she loves me back but I can’t keep my head on straight long enough to try and tell. 

But. If I do get my head out of my ass and tell her and she does end up wanting to date me, what the fuck am I supposed to do then. Cause if it does work out, i’m pretty sure it’ll last. 

My parents never totally liked her (they probably saw this coming- but I think in the homophobic, all queer ppl date each other, way and not the, they’re meant to be together, way) and if ended up having to tell them i’m actually dating a women, they’d be pissed. 

I always thought i’d end up with man, since it’s easier. No religious guilt about that. But I can put aside my own brains stupidity for her. But I can’t change my parents. But aside from this, they’re literally amazing. But I also know them and I truly don’t think they’ll change.

All my friends having been saying me and her should’ve been dating this entire time. I don’t know, I like to think now would be kinda perfect. I always knew she was gonna be in my life forever, I guess I just got so used to imagining myself with a man I forgot she was an option? That I could be with her romantically forever. You know, assuming she wants to date me.

(We’ll see about that. I’m really not sure. But i’m totally shit at keeping my own secrets so i’m planning to tell her soon if not just for the sake of my own sanity. All my friends say she’ll reciprocate, if she doesn’t, then I guess i’ll go from there, she’s not the type to be weird or bothered that we live together despite it. And if she does… then I have to decide what to do next. My other best friend is literally always right when it comes to our friends dating lives, and she has faith we’ll end up together, so we’ll see I guess) 

But if she does. If she does I’ll have to get into it with my family. I don’t want to lie to them. And I know I shouldn’t judge, but I honestly don’t think they’ll change their minds. I think they’ll say I can come visit whenever, but not bringing my partner. And I won’t want that. And we’ll all argue.  

I never liked knowing my parents didn’t accept this side of me, but I guess I never considered it would be an actual problem i’d have to deal with someday. 

I spend a lot of my time trying to figure myself out. I haven’t had the easiest path in life. But with her, it’s so easy. It’s easier to understand what I like, it’s easier to talk about things, and I fully trust her not to be weird. Or leave. Or get mad for nothing. I don’t have to walk on eggshells around her. I trust her. We don’t argue much. We have, what she calls, three different type of arguments. 

One, “bad mood argues”. She finds it so hilarious that it rhymes. You have to say it with the syllables. Bad-Mood Ar-Gues. We have these cookies in the freezer that we make every month. If one of us is having a bad day, we cook a few cookies to eat and I bought this dumb fridge magnet of a cookie to put on the fridge to signify it’s a cookie worthy bad day. 

Another one is “justifiable anger”. That doesn’t happen much. When we first met, she had this tendency to not tell me when I did something that upset her, and it’d spiral, and i’d be mad she wasn’t talking about why she was mad. So we have a rule to always talk about problems, even the little things. For example, her yelling into the phone to her family for hours while i’m trying to study- she has planned days now, so I can go to the library or she can go out if necessary, or keep the convo below 45 min, her mums like half deaf so she does have to shout, but it’s also VERY loud. Basically we comprise. And make sure no anger builds up.

The third type of argument is, what our friends call, “married idiots”. As in, she shouldn’t use the siri talk thingy while driving cause it never understands what she’s trying to say and so I get jumbled texts that mean nothing and then she thinks she’s told me something she hasn’t told me. She’s nearly understanding that one 🤦‍♀️ And you know, the classic colour of something argument (it’s purple- she’s wrong).  

Anyway. I forgot my point. Oh yeah, everything’s easier with her. I feel comfortable. If i’m being totally honest… i’m pretty sure if I ask her out, she’ll say yes. Like 80% sure. Im just scared to fuck this up, and cause family problems. Cause yeah, she’s worth the drama, but also, it’s her that’ll be being insulted right? She very likely won’t be allowed in my house. I don’t want this to ruin what we already have. 

So yeah. That. I could really do with some advice ❤️

Hi <3

If you do not ask this girl out, I will physically pass away.

Like...I'm not usually so pushy with asks, but you're describing a relationship, hon. This is a relationship. I'm not sure if you follow me because of the Marauders, but you two are literally Wolfstar, And I'm shipping the two of you so hard right now.

If, for some insane reason, she turns you down, it's because she doesn't realize she's in love with you, too.

As far as your family...again, I'm going to be more blunt that usual. You're going to have to face their lack of acceptance for you at some point. It's absolutely shit that they don't accept you, but like...don't let that stop you from being with this girl. Because even if you put off their feelings now, you'll have to deal with it someday, and then you might miss out on an amazing girl.

Please update me. I need updates. I am so invested. I am DYING for updates.

God, I'm rereading all the things you wrote and I'm kicking and giggling. You two are ridiculously adorable. Please kiss her already (with consent).

I'm naming you purple anon. Please write back.

[snowflakesincalifornia]

I couldn’t reblog the og post bc ig Tumblr’s ruined the code, so this is a copy of it. Please give credit to the og posters.

milf-percy

It dosen't really matter that Percy isn't hurt by Annabeth insulting him all the time and sometimes even being physically violent to him(he should be because that's a realistic response from an abuse and bullying survivor but i digress),not just because he's a fictional character and not a real person with free will,but also because that's Annabeth's way of showing she fucking hates him.Her treatment of him has literally not changed since they were 12 yet nobody in this dumbass fandom can shut up about how ~developed~ their relathionship is cause they make out now and are planning on having a dysfunctional cishet marriage while trashing the characters of color for being 'annoying'.

Percy and Annabeth are not 'made for eachother' because Rick wrote everyone in-universe as telling them that and i'd like to remind y'all that this is the same guy who wrote Luke,an adult serial abuser and ped0phile,as a 'hero' because of the Great Prophecy.Destiny means jack shit and Annabeth and Percy-ESPECIALLY Percy,who's been doomed to trauma over and over again despite his best efforts to escape it-should've been allowed to choose who to love instead of having it shoved down their throats by both everyone in their franchise and the creepy weirdos in the fandom too

@southasianpercy

chaoticcerise

Hi! As someone with ADHD who's been in several abusive relationships before, I figured I'd add something about why it IS actually realistic that he doesn't appear hurt, but that's actually even more alarming. So it starts with meeting them (obviously) and especially if they don't really have any healthy romantic IRL relationships to compare it to (which the books go out of their way to emphasize that this is the case) then it can be really hard to notice when red flags like that start to come up. "Oh it'll get better!" "They're still adjusting to it!" All of which are valid! There's healthy relationships that start rough and there's relationships that start really well and then something happens that doesn't go super well and it turns bad real quick. I've been in a few of both. The problem comes when it still happens after they're asked to stop, which is what happens in Percy Jackson. This can lead to things like "Oh they're just kidding, surely they don't mean it!" "Oh that's just how they flirt/show they love me!" Which, again, is fine IF IT'S WELCOME. However if it's not then eventually it's "Oh they're just like that." "Oh it's fine I guess, it's not like I can stop it." Just because someone doesn't complain doesn't mean that they're consenting. It means they're resigned to the abuse. And that means that he's internalizing and normalizing it. "We don't hear any real negativity towards Annabeth in Percy's thoughts though!!!" Well no but we don't hear any love either. We don't ever hear any thoughts about her really ever. Nothing about how pretty she is or how cool she is or anything. Percy Jackson has thoughts about EVERYONE. As someone with ADHD, this level of no thoughts is concerning and no basis for a relationship. He deserves someone who will treat him well. She deserves someone who thinks about her fondly. Both of them deserve better but they both need to undergo some character development and serious therapy first.

[herofics]

Yooo, remember a WHILE back when you made those Sloth HC’s for Mina and Kiri? (Took me a lot of scrolling, you make TONS of great stuff luv.)

Could you somehow transfer that to JJK with Todo and Maki? I just love the concept of it and how you’d incorporate that in their world.

A/N: Thank you, if you want to find posts easier, the masterlists are linked in the pinned post. The post/request can be found here and it was pretty fun to write back then. It was also pretty fun to write now too. These are based on how the characters are in the anime, rather than in the manga, because the manga is so much ahead. Did HCs since it’s the easier option, but I gotta admit I don’t have a particularly good grasp on Todo’s personality especially, but I hope these are fine

~Zenin Maki~

•Your cursed technique stockpiles cursed energy the more slothful you are

•It comes with your physical abilities strengthening and your cursed energy becoming more intense (Idk how the hell CTs or CE works)

•You do your daily things, you train with the others and stuff like that, but you always do it the easiest way possible, the way that requires the least effort

•Maki wasn’t a big fan of you when you first started in Jujutsu High, you started at the same time and she found you quite infuriating

•You never seemed to take anything seriously, most of the time you were just lounging around, yawning, looking generally tired and being lazy

•But when she saw you fight for the first time, actually fight against a curse when you were assigned on a mission together, she was stunned to silence, which is a pretty impressive feat for anyone when it comes to Maki

•You always liked her, you thought she was badass and no matter what anyone else thought, strong

•You and Maki actually end up becoming pretty close after you saved each other’s asses on the first mission you had together

•The dating thing just kind of happened without either of you really realizing it, until Panda made some off hand comment about you two dating and you were both like “We’re not dating!”

•Which led to the conversation of “Are we dating?” and ended with the conclusion of “I guess we are”

•When you overexert yourself, you fall asleep very soon after, therefore you have to be good at distributing your cursed energy evenly so you don’t run out

•You also have to sleep for a pretty long while after to get your cursed energy back to a normal level

•Maki doesn’t really care if you’re lazy, since you still put effort into the relationship and you can hold your own and you’ve got her back in a fight

~Todo Aoi~

•Todo used to not have a very high opinion of you, because of how lazy you were

•He felt like you never put any effort into anything, especially physical training, which was very much the case but he didn’t yet understand why

•You never really talked about your cursed technique, because you didn’t see a reason to

•So Todo didn’t know about how it worked or that your lifestyle was very good for your cursed technique

•When you finally got annoyed at his attitude and the constant chastising, you told him about your cursed technique

•Now he can just complain to you about your martial arts and close combat technique, which he does

•Todo actually starts helping you with honing your technique, which includes a lot of sparring and you getting beat because you don’t want to use your cursed energy on him

•He wouldn’t kill you, and getting at least a bit beat up was a pretty daily thing for you as a jujutsu sorcerer

•Todo has had to carry you back from missions a few times when it got tough and you over exerted yourself, because you fell asleep

•He doesn’t mind, and he’s much gentler with you now that you’ve started dating

•Before he just threw you over his shoulder and carried you kind of carelessly

•When you need to recharge, you like to sleep in his bed

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Six

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes. 

A/N: this is my magnum opus. please don’t hate me. 

Word count: 8.5k

Chapter Six

As much as you tried to be normal about it all, it was impossible for you not to innately freak out. You slept on yours and Roy’s confrontation for the remainder of the weekend, and when Monday rolled around, you thought about pulling a sickie and not going into work.

Maybe it was just you, but when you felt embarrassed about something of your own doing, you didn’t want to see anyone. Especially not the person who’d seen you embarrass yourself the entire fucking time, in the form of Roy fucking Kent. It was exposing, and made you feel overly vulnerable, on top of still being internally pissed off that he’d gone into this knowing that he was never interested in reading what you’d written. All of it mixed up into a cake that only made you feel sick, so you did the most rational thing that any embarrassed person would do– isolated yourself.

You stayed in your office all week, with the door closed. When you left each day, you made sure you were the last to leave, double checking the corridors for stray players, coaches and Roy himself. In the mornings, you walked a different route to work, one that didn’t follow the main roads around yours and Roy’s part of Richmond. You didn’t want to be walking along and see his Jeep round a corner, only to have to stand there like a twat and catch his eye through the windshield.

“Does a simple misunderstanding really need to get to this level of discomfort?” Rebecca said, over one of your rare but appreciated lunches. She’d lightened up even more after the Everton game, which was a nice side effect.

You crunched down on a mouthful of salad, chewing sullenly. You’d been on edge for days. “I don’t know,” you let out. “Probably not. But I still can’t make myself get over it. I feel fucking awful, I mean— he just said yes to get me off his back, didn’t he?”

Rebecca shrugged. “No one can know with Kent. I don’t think he did it for that reason, though. You said the interview went well?”

“Well, I thought it did, I don’t bloody know. Either way, I’m not submitting the article now.”

Rebecca looked at you with raised eyebrows. “It’s up to you, I know, but if it were up to me, I’d still submit the damn thing.”

“Yeah, well it’s not.” You stuffed another forkful of salad in your gob. You’d heard the same thing from your mother a few days prior, and were debating telling Keeley the next time you saw her, but nothing would sway you with this.

You’d messed up, and you felt mortified that you’d made Roy open up when he wasn’t even interested in reading what you had to say. You were in a position where you were definitely going to take his side into account, even if it meant a standstill for you.

Rebecca’s face softened. She leant closer to you on the sofa, and placed a gentle hand on your arm. “So, you pissed off a footballer. He’ll get over it, and by God, what you’ve written cannot be as bad as any tabloid drivel that’s been written about him before. It’ll be fine in time, you just need to stop beating yourself up about this, alright?”

You sighed through your nose, swallowing the food in your mouth painfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I still can’t make myself face him just yet, though.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked, and the way she was looking at you made you want to open up.

Oh, because I have an immense crush on him that I can’t shake, and I cannot stand the thought that I’ve annoyed him in any capacity.

“It’s nothing,” you said, but it was an obvious lie. Rebecca widened her gaze further, noticing something there. You let out a pent up breath. “It’s my problem. I’ll sort it soon, but I just— I don’t want to crowd him more, especially after last week. I’m being fucking stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid to want to make someone feel comfortable. That’s a good trait to have,” she said, squeezing your arm. “Just don’t let it ruin you further when it doesn’t need to.” She smiled at you softly, and you smiled back. “What happened to the girl that chased Roy down for those player profiles in the first week, hm?” she added, trying to lighten the mood. It only made you feel worse, weirdly enough.

“I got to know him,” you said, trying to keep the hurt off your face. “Properly, I mean. I got to know him properly.”

Rebecca’s face perked up with alarming speed. “Oh?” she asked, assumptively.

You waved her off immediately. “Not like that,” you said, but it was clear that both of you knew you were fibbing. Rebecca’s smile only grew. “Not like that.” You reiterated, trying to get yourself across harshly, but it only made it more apparent:

You fucking liked Roy Kent. It was clear to fucking see, and he probably knew it himself, too. That made it all the worse, and embarrassment crept onto your ears immediately.

You shoved another full fork of salad in your mouth, and Rebecca scoffed to herself, amused. The two of you finished your lunch together, with her playfulness counteracting your idiocy. How many more times were you going to make yourself feel childish?

Rebecca cleared her throat. “I get it,” she said. “He’s grumpy, and mean, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who doesn’t want to fix a grey, stormcloud of a man.” She smiled at you sincerely. “Your secret is safe with me.” She winked, and you scoffed so abruptly that an olive from your plate launched itself across her office.

It felt good to have another woman around. You liked it.

You had the weekend to yourself, and stayed in for the sake of self care. You’d face Roy sometime next week, but had to psych yourself up first to deal with it. He’d been training non-stop anyway, with the first threats of relegation for AFC Richmond appearing, despite their win against Everton the week before. It just wasn’t enough to keep them in a stable position, not when the season was over halfway done.

You wanted to call Keeley, but stopped yourself when you remembered she was on a weekend away with some sponsors, getting treated and talking business. You were thankful that you weren’t in her shoes. You knew nothing about PR, nor did you have her same sense of style and immediately approachable personality.

You messaged Sam a few times, just to talk about your latest shared book. He was as sweet over text as he was in person, and even invited you out with the guys on Saturday night— you were tempted, but declined for the sake of stressing yourself out too much. You had a full-on few weeks and wanted to be chipper for the days ahead; you had an assignment due imminently, and your aversion to Roy at the moment was proving difficult to manage work and your personal life at the same time.

You needed to snap out of it. Rebecca was right— it was eating up your time and energy. And as much as you were picturing it badly, you knew that Roy probably didn’t care nearly as much as you did. Embracing your mistakes was all part of learning.

That’s the mindset you adopted when you entered the Dogtrack on Monday morning, just over a week after the team’s win at Everton. You smiled at your colleagues and chatted to them in the cafe in the morning like normal, before you went about your daily routine. You popped your head around the manager’s office a bit later on, and discussed your weekend with Ted, Beard and Nate, before all the players started arriving for training. They sent you smiles and hellos in greeting, and Sam told you about the messy night he’d had on Saturday. All was normal, until Roy stepped into the locker room.

When he caught your eye, the air stilled. The guys around you silenced like school children, and you fought the urge to fake an emergency so you could leave. Roy scanned the room bluntly, before he strolled towards his cubby and dropped his bag on the bench. You sent Sam an awkward smile, before you turned to the Richmond Captain.

He peered down at you for a second, before looking away without a word. “How was your weekend?” you asked, trying to keep things light. Roy didn’t like small talk, but this would have to do.

He growled in response, but you were determined to get something– anything– out of the gruff man before you. He’d noticed your overly avoidant behaviour for one, and you only had yourself to blame for that. “Roy,” you tried again, shooting him a small smile when he peered at you once more.

“You talking to me again, are you?” he replied, and a jolt of electricity ran through your limbs.

The energy in the locker room stalled, as the guys descended into absolute silence at Roy’s response. You felt their stares on your back, and you fucking hated it. You doubted they knew what was up, but had probably had to deal with some weird energy from Roy over the past few days.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, holding your ground. “Are you okay with that?” You raised your brows at him questioningly, strongly, and he reciprocated with a quick scan of your face.

All his prior angst faded away with your simple retort. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” he said, and you felt your chest relax instantly. “I took Phoebe to the zoo on Saturday. Two lions were going at it in the enclosure and I had to tell her they were wrestling.”

You scoffed so hard you almost choked, not expecting those words to fall from his mouth. “She has to learn one way or another, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want her thinking that sex is like fucking wrestling one another,” Roy said gruffly.

You shrugged. “It sort of is,” you let out hazardously.

Roy perked an eyebrow at you questioningly, an amused smile appearing on his face. “What kind of sex are you fucking having?”

Sam choked beside you abruptly, and you shot your stare onto him quickly, only to find Isaac and Colin smiling at each other like schoolboys behind him. You pointed at all of them sternly, with wide eyes. “Enough.”

Isaac clutched a hand to his chest defensively. “It’s a valid question, bruv. What kind of sex are you fucking having if it’s sort of like wrestling?”

The boys descended into childish giggles, and you turned back to Roy as you tried not to join them. You could feel your cheeks warming as you did, but you loved them all so much that you didn’t care if they were laughing at your expense. It was good to laugh at yourself once in a while.

You inhaled deeply, accepting the embarrassment only for the sake of you and Roy being okay again. He was smiling at you as you fiddled with your fingers. Not that he’d admit it, but this week had gone twelve times slower without your presence breaking apart his time. He’d got used to your impromptu locker room crashes, and the methodical way he always peered around your open door after training was done for the day.

“None,” you finally let out. “I am having no WWE level sex, sadly, because I’m not a fucking Premier League footballer.” You scanned the room and pouted at them all melodramatically, before you headed towards the locker room door with false glumness. Their giggles surrounded the entire room and it warmed your heart.

“We’ve gotta get you on some apps, or something,” Colin suggested, as you turned back to them and leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Which ones?”

“Tinder?” Isaac offered, and you mimed sticking a finger down your throat.

“Please, Isaac. I’m not a fucking teenager anymore.”

“What about Bumble? It allows women to message first,” Sam said, and you furrowed your brows.

“I don’t want to talk first, ever. I’d rather a man send me a shitty pick up line that I don’t respond to than have to do that.”

“Hinge?” Bumbercatch added, and you let out a disgusted laugh.

“Oh, great! I can have three dates with some posh Richmond bloke, engage in awful fucking sex and then be ghosted the next day for no reason. That sounds thrilling.”

“There’s always Grindr,” Colin said, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on him, including your own that were squinting at him questioningly. Colin paused for a moment, like a statue. “Oh, sorry. With all this wrestling talk I forgot that you don’t actually have a dick.”

The room erupted in ooo’s while you tried and failed not to scoff to oblivion. You glanced over at Roy– there was a smile on his face, one that he was trying to hide and absolutely failing at. He shrugged his shirt off quickly, and you sucked in a painful breath, before you forced yourself to look away.

“Maybe I do,” you said bluntly, before you pointed around the room. “And none of you will ever fucking know.” You smiled at the way the boys got all bashful, before you stood up straight and beamed at them all. “Thanks for the dating advice, but I accepted my chronically single fate a long time ago.”

“That’s only because you’ve been around pretentious, uptight writers your whole life,” Zoreaux offered, and a few nods of agreement cropped up around the room. Zoreaux clapped his hands together suddenly, and you flinched in surprise. “You need to find yourself a footballer.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored their childish chants. “Over my dead fucking body,” you said, raising your hands to the sky in defeat. “And this is where the dating advice ends.” You swivelled on your heels and sent them a chaste middle finger, before you made your leave. “Goodbye!” you yelled from the corridor, and were met with one collective Bye!

Roy slipped on his football shirt after you left, and he was thrust back to two weekends before. He knew he’d fucked up with what he’d said in Liverpool, but there was something that kept him from opening up about it all– the fact he avoided everything that was written about him. Every interview, every post match press conference, every fan photo or interaction, the lot.

As much as he felt like a twat, he was also secretly relieved that you’d chosen not to submit the article. He wanted your success, certainly, but he wished you’d picked someone else. It was his fault for agreeing to it in the beginning, which was exactly why you’d got angry and upset. You were right; he’d been harsh, he’d been mean, but he hadn’t expected you to give a shit. Maybe that was more of a commentary about him than about you.

Either way, he was glad to put your week of silence behind him. Having you back in the locker room in the morning felt like coming home.

The days flew by quickly, but you still hadn’t updated Keeley about everything that had happened, and part of you didn’t want to now. She’d been so excited for you, and you didn’t want to break the news to her at all. You put the article behind you, and focused on new projects. With the days whittling down and matches being played in the blink of an eye, it wouldn’t be long until the season was up– along with your time at Richmond. It was funny to call it a year of placement, when in fact it was only nine months, to tie in with the football season.

You’d been at the club for almost six fucking months already. Christmas and the New Year had passed unceremoniously, and when you thought about it all you only freaked out more. You’d been to more matches than you could count, had written more words than you ever had in your entire life, and actually considered a bunch of footballers as your friends. But the worst thing of all– you’d held onto Roy’s jacket for close to three fucking months. He had to have noticed its absence by now, but still hadn’t approached you about it. Nor had you done the right thing by returning it, especially not after your panic in his house the month before.

That’s what you found yourself thinking about over the next few weeks. In between matches and assignment days, you’d lie awake at night and think about the fact it was all going to end. You needed Keeley to tell you to snap out of it, but had been so deprived of her company since she’d become so busy all of a sudden. As the final three months of the season loomed, you barely got more than a few minutes to spend with her at lunch. You hadn’t mentioned the article at all since the incident with Roy, but you were glad that it wasn’t hovering over you anymore like a few weeks prior.

As February ended and March began, you walked to work happily. You’d miss this immensely. Your small flat, your easy walk to Nelson Road, and everyone you got to see on a daily basis. Richmond was definitely part of your life now, and that wasn’t something you were going to forget.

You entered the stadium like normal, but there was an uncomfortable buzz in the air. You smelled it first in the form of static, the kind you get before a thunderstorm. The corridors were quiet as you walked towards your office, void of all players and your colleagues alike. You weren’t overly early, nor had some sickness ravaged through the entirety of Nelson Road, but nevertheless all was quiet.

You strolled into your office. When you switched on the light, you screamed when you were met with the burst of a confetti cannon right in your face. “You’re a fucking writer!” Keeley screamed, as you ducked down to try and protect yourself from this surprise attack. Paper crinkled in the air and all over your hair. It landed on the floor and ceased to move. Glitter covered everything.

Behind her, Sam, Ted and Nate cheered at your terror, while you tried to compute what the fuck was going on. Keeley lunged at you and encased you in a fast hug. You squeezed her back when you came back into your dimension, but confusion rattled in your brain. “Well fucking done, babe! We’re so proud of you!” she exclaimed, and you allowed yourself to accept their excitement, even if you had no clue what she was talking about.

“Ah– thank you?” you let out, alongside a subtle yaaaay that you felt was necessary, when Keeley started bouncing up and down while hugging you. You smiled at her as genuinely as possible when she pulled away.

Sam stepped forward first. “I particularly liked the paragraph where he talked about football academy. It is sweet to imagine Roy so young and less grumpy,” he said, and Ted clapped him on the back in agreement.

“Oh, absolutely, that was a banger.” Ted looked at you and grinned so hard that his moustache moved higher-up on his face. “Now, I don’t hold what Roy said about Beard and I against you, I was just glad to get a mention in this legendary article of yours.”

The smile dropped from your face immediately. You stood up quickly, and turned to Keeley quickly. “What are they talking about?” you asked, but you already knew the answer.

Keeley frowned at you. “Your article, babes,” she said, like you should know exactly what she was fucking talking about. Quickly, she shuffled in her bag and brought out today’s copy of the Independent. It was already open on the sports section, and when she hovered it before you, you stopped breathing.

Your article was on the front page. In huge, bold letters, as clear as fucking day, it read The Roy Kent Effect (and what it can do to a person who knows nothing about football). Your name was on the byline, alongside the photo you’d picked out before to be submitted alongside it.

“I– I didn’t–” you stuttered, trailing off in shock.

“I did,” Keeley said for you. “I submitted it for you, after you let me read it,” she admitted, but the look on her face showed you she was so much less excited about it now. All you saw was red at her admission, to the point where you were torn between screaming at the top of your lungs or crawling into a ball on the floor.

“Will you guys give us a minute, please?” you asked quickly, shooting a wide-eyed and panicked look at Sam, Ted and Nate.

The three of them scattered like rats, and you slammed the door behind them as soon as they were out of your office. Keeley flinched when you did, but your heart was beating too fast for you to notice. All you felt was the wobble in your fingers and pins and needles in your toes.

“What’s going on?” Keeley asked, concerned.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the article. Your words were printed right in front of you, but you’d never been so mad to see something of your own published. “Roy and I had a bad fight,” you started, but the words took so long to form in your brain from all the yells that ratted inside your skull. “He told me he had no intention of reading the article, that he’d never wanted to, and I said–” You stopped yourself from choking on your words. You caught Keeley’s eye, and chose to ignore how much yours were welling up. “I told him I wasn’t going to submit it.��

Keeley gently brought a hand to her forehead, digesting your words. She paced your office slowly, trying to find the right thing to say, but both of you knew it was useless. “I’m– fucking hell,” she said, stumbling over her thoughts. “I’m so fucking sorry.” She turned to you with glassy eyes. “I didn’t know, and I– I just wanted you to believe in yourself–”

“I know,” you said, trying to hold it together. Your anger dissipated into something else entirely, and that something else was on the brink of tears. “I know,” you repeated.

Keeley rushed forward and grabbed your wrists gently. “I’m a fucking idiot and I never should have done it,” she said quickly.

“You’re not an idiot,” you breathed out, before you peered down at the floor. “But, you never should have done it, yeah.” There was no point in beating her up– she’d done something with the intention to help you, without knowing that Roy would react this way and cause shit to hit the fan.

Never before had you gained friends so kind that they did stupid things all for your sake. In any other universe, you bet that Roy agreeing to the article had gone very well, and Keeley submitting it without you knowing had gone amazingly, but here? No. Hell fucking no. In your universe, everything you touched turned to absolute shit when it didn’t need to.

“Fuck,” you said sharply, clamping your eyes shut. A few tears fell and landed on the grey carpet of your office. “Fuck.”

“I’ll tell him,” Keeley said, panicking. “It was my fault, none of this is on you–”

“I wrote the fucking thing in the first place!” you exclaimed suddenly, and inappropriately found yourself laughing. Chuckles bobbed from your chest involuntarily, and with every burst another tear fell from your eyes. This was a mess.

Keeley squeezed your wrists reassuringly, and you forced yourself to breathe out and look at her. When you caught your eye, you sent her a soft look. As your panic subsided, you thought about the fact that she’d submitted it for you because she’d believed in you. She’d done it as a favour, as a gesture to let you know that you were good, that you had potential, to get you out of your head.

You wrapped your arms around her before you could back out. You were thankful for her, even if it had all gone tits up. Laughter trickled from your lips affectionately, and it only made her squeeze you even harder.

“Is now a good time to mention that you fucking won?” she said, her voice muffled by your shoulder.

You laughed even harder, absolutely astounded by it all. Out of hundreds of students, your article had fucking won the entire competition. “I fucking won!” you chuckled out, and the two of you swayed from side to side in each other’s embrace.

You hated not being in control. It was unsettling and made you feel erratic, like everything could fall apart if you didn’t have it all planned out beforehand. As far back as you could remember you’d had this issue; not being able to switch the fuck off. Things needed to be planned, and when they weren’t, you felt sick. Now, times that by ten and add a bunch of hyperactive footballers into the equation. It was a miracle you hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest during your six months at the club. Your masters had been fucked from the start, you’d messed up countless times during the job, and everything with the article was just the cherry on top of a shitstorm.

You sat in your empty office and stopped yourself from yelling at the ceiling above you. After Keeley had left, all your innate foundations came crashing down imminently. You wanted to go home and sleep for the remainder of your placement, but you couldn’t– not now. This mess had been reopened, and you had to clear it up again.

You knew the longer you left it, the worse it would get. Roy and the other boys were due in for training soon, and you couldn’t stand the thought of Roy seeing the article out and about before you’d had the chance to catch him up to speed. Keeley had made a massive fucking oopsie, but you didn’t hold it against her. She didn’t know about your fight, nor had she had the intention to screw things up this bad. That was always the thing, wasn’t it? Intentions were always good, but that didn’t always mean the best outcome was inevitable.

Wracking your fingers through your hair, you puffed out your cheeks with a colossal sigh. It was a waiting game, now. And as soon as you could, you’d tell Roy everything.

Roy slammed through the doors of the stadium for training. He was in no mood to be messed with, and knew that seeing your face would only make it worse. That morning, as he shut his front door, he looked down to see his face on the front page of the Independent’s sport section. Your name was beneath the heading, alongside a smiling photo. He leaned down and picked it up, scanning the title quickly–

The Roy Kent Effect (and what it can do to a person who knows nothing about football).

He growled to himself, before he crumpled the paper in his hands angrily. He stormed towards his Jeep and threw his gym bag harshly onto the passenger seat, before he headed off to Nelson Road. Everywhere he looked, the newspaper article loomed over him. His colleagues in the cafe read it over their morning cup of tea, and promptly froze when they saw him pass. This was he last thing he’d fucking wanted, and he was regretting his decision to ever say yes to you.

You’d reassured him you wouldn’t submit it, so why was it printed in the paper for everyone to fucking read?

He continued to the locker room in frustration. When he entered, the guys stopped the conversation they were having. They nodded at their Captain, before they silently turned back to their cubbies and got ready for the day ahead. Roy tried to ignore the prickling feeling of being watched. He had it whenever he went anyway, but this was tenfold. The thought of people knowing new information about him made him feel overexposed to the max.

Sam approached Roy through the silence, and shot him a sunshine smile. “Morning, Captain,” he said. Roy didn’t respond with more than a quick glance at his teammate. “So, have you seen the ar–?”

“Where is she?” Roy interrupted him suddenly. His voice was coarse and gruff, and Sam immediately recoiled when he sensed the anger seeping through Roy’s pores.

“In her office,” Sam replied, gesturing in the direction of your office innocently.

Roy didn’t stick around after that. He headed to see you as fast as he’d bombarded through the doors from the car park.

Your inbox had been blowing up all morning, along with your Twitter. You hadn’t been able to stomach reading them all yet, as you sat upon your anxiety and tried not to imagine the absolute worst when you saw Roy. Trying to reassure yourself had stopped working after the first ten minutes, and a Google search of ‘how do you un-print an article from a published newspaper?’ hadn’t provided much in the way of help.

Roy didn’t bother to knock. He rounded the door frame and took you by surprise. You sucked in a sharp breath and stood up quickly, meeting his gaze. “Roy, there’s something I need to tell you–”

“You submitted the fucking article?” he said harshly.

You frowned at him apologetically, and gently rounded your desk to stand opposite him. “You saw it,” you started, trying to settle your nerves. “I’m so sorry, Roy. It was a total accident, and it was actually Keeley who–”

“An accident? How is this a fucking accident?” he interrupted you. Upset cut through his aggression, but he was still seething. He pointed at you harshly. “You told me you weren’t going ahead with it. My face is plastered on every fucking newstand around London, and you’re saying it’s a fucking accident?”

You furrowed your brows at his outburst, not expecting him to be this angry. It was a mistake, but he was acting like you’d done this intentionally. “Roy.” You tried not to stumble over your words as rage crept up on yourself. “It was an accident. I’m sorry, but this was out of my control. Keeley submitted it without me knowing.”

Roy balled his fists. “Fuck this!” he yelled, and you took an abrupt step backwards.

“This could have been avoided if you’d just told me the truth!” you hit back with, losing all sense of composure. “If things had gone smoothly, this would have been the fucking outcome all along, and it’s obvious that you never wanted this! This is not just on me.”

“Not just on you?” Roy repeated. “Oh, of fucking course, it’s not just on you, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s always someone else's fault with you.” He raised his arms theatrically as he spoke, trying to expel his anger. “The uni cocked up your placement, I fucked up your first assignment, and now Keeley accidentally submitted an article that has my name stamped all over it.”

“You just stated facts, Roy–”

“But do you know the biggest fact of them all?” he cut over you, before he took a looming step forward. He leaned closer to you, until you could feel the air warm at how heated he was. “You did this. It was your choice to come here when you knew fuck all about the game, about us. It was your choice to write the fucking article in the first place, and it’s your fault that everything has gone tits up–”

“You fucking agreed to this!”

“I didn’t agree for you to get involved in my life!” he yelled, and you let out a colossal groan of frustration. You paced on the spot, needing to just fucking move, to dispell what you were feeling, to get it all out of your system. Roy didn’t back down. This fight, the real fight, had only been growing within both of you from the moment you first met. “I didn’t agree to you walking in here and latching on like a fucking leech, and fucking with my head, and making me feel– all this.”

All this.

Your heart pounded within your chest as his words spilled onto the carpet. This wasn’t just about the article, you realised. This was more. This was the jacket on the peg by your door, and all of the another times, and all of the smiles and jokes and texts that had been rattling between you both for the past six months.

“Oh, I see,” you said, lowering your voice. There was an energy that buzzed between your gazes, one that told you now was a good time to rip off the fucking bandaid, even if it meant the end. “This isn’t just about the article, is it?”

Roy breathed heavily opposite you, his chest rose and fell erratically. His fists were balled at his sides, but his face softened almost imperceptibly. You noticed it. You noticed every look that Roy sent your way. That was why this entire problem had begun.

Him, him, him, him, him.

“Why won’t you let me in?” you caved. “Or fucking anyone.”

“This is fucking stupid—”

“What’s stupid is that you cannot fucking stand when people give an actual shit about you.” You stepped towards him strongly, trying to convey everything you felt within your words. “You do it with the guys, with Ted, and you fucking do it with me.”

“This isn’t a fucking therapy session. I don’t need a fucking uni student to psychoanalyse my thoughts and feelings and all that other bullshit,” Roy said lowly, like a warning.

“Why have you never mentioned the jacket?” you asked suddenly.

Roy’s eyes widened. He stilled. “What?”

“The jacket. The one you leant me after the charity ball. I’ve had it for months, yet you haven’t mentioned anything.” Roy’s thoughts short-circuited. “Not once have you asked for it back, or collected it, or fucking anything.”

“At least I didn’t chicken out while trying to return it,” Roy said harshly. You held your breath. “I saw you shove it in your bag at my house, after the interview.”

You fought the urge to be sick. You weren’t expecting a full read through of yours and Roy’s relationship when you entered the Dogtrack today. You weren’t expecting to be so fucking mad at him, madder than you’d been about anything else in your life.

“I didn’t want this to end,” you admitted calmly, despite the butterflies tearing holes in your gut. “Is that why you never picked it up, hm? Because you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you actually give a shit about someone else?” You kept your eyes on his, flicking back and forth between them as you tried to hold it together. There was a finality to your feelings, and you feared you were approaching the end of their tether. You weren’t one to stick around if you knew you weren’t wanted. Roy had made himself perfectly fucking clear to you. “That’s why you agreed to the article, isn’t it? An attempt to give a shit, but you got scared when you realised people will know you just that little bit better from it. That’s why you’re raging and whining and looking at me like that, and ignoring all the other shit you’re feeling just because it’s easy, and what you’re used to.” The words spilled from your mouth like water. “That’s not how I do things, Roy. I bother, and I care, and I give a shit. And–” you stopped to let out an upset chuckle. Your eyes welled. “I can’t believe I thought we were actually close, when the truth is…” You forced yourself to keep your gaze steady. His eyes inhaled you. “I hardly know you, Roy. And you won’t let me try to, not properly, or on paper, or in the fucking article, even.”

Roy’s brain had stopped thinking coherently as soon as you’d started talking. You were right, you were always fucking right, but he would never let you know that. Not after this, not with the way you were looking at him so desperately, in pleading, baring your feelings out in the fucking open to try and get him to understand. His anger was real, but it wasn’t about you– it was about himself, but that’s just not how Roy Kent worked.

He was mean, he was angry, he was harsh. He didn’t let anyone stomp all over him on the pitch, or in life. Anyone who entered his life and tried to scale the tall walls he’d built around himself was nothing more than a threat. It was unsustainable, and had only brought pain in the past. It explained his string of finished relationships and friendships, and why he was still unsettled at the age of thirty-five.

“I’m sorry about the article,” you said softly. “But, I’m not sorry about everything else. Whether or not you get over it– that’s on you.” You shrugged, before you frowned at the floor. Tears disrupted your vision. You felt defeated, almost.

As the anger disappeared from his shoulders, Roy nodded at you in understanding. There was nothing else to say.

You let out a shaky breath as you looked up, and you decided that time was up. “I have work to do,” you said, as a signifier that this conversation– confrontation, fight, admittal, whatever the fuck you’d just had to endure– was over.

Roy hardly spoke for the rest of the day. Not during training, or during the team’s pep talk before their next match that Saturday. When he drove home, he felt odd in his house alone. All he could fathom to think about was you. Your words, the way you so easily revealed all and told him to grow up. He was overly used to people backing down when he got angry, but you hadn’t let him. You fought back, and had such determination to put him in his place.

It was a refreshing change of pace.

Roy noticed your absence at the game that weekend. The owner’s box was void of your energetic support. Out of a crowd of ten thousand, he could easily pick out your voice above all else– not only for the fact that you yelled like an opera singer, but because he listened out for you, in truth. When the crowd went wild at an excellent tackle of his, his signature chant roared from the stands.

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

When your voice hadn’t rang out next to all the rest, he glanced up at the owner’s box to find your seat empty. It threw him off his game for the remainder of the match.

The weekend after, you also didn’t attend. Your presence was sporadic after the fight, and Roy found himself enduring the sharp sting of butterflies in his gut whenever he so much as glanced at you in the hallway, or caught sight of you in your office during his workouts. Guilt was not an emotion that Roy often felt, but it had taken over his entire body. It was a slap in the face when you’d laid everything out perfectly, and absolutely judged him correctly. Whether it was projecting, or just being fucking stupid, his anger about the article stemmed from something much bigger. You saw straight through him, and that was what terrified him.

Word of your fight had spread across the team. He knew as soon as the guys started looking at him differently– with pity. They were careful not to step on his toes, and muttered to each other when he left the room. Your visits to the team were still clockwork, but it was clear to see there was something painful whenever you caught Roy’s eye. You’d smile, you’d say hello, and that would be that. He was surprised that you acknowledged him at all, and had been certain that you’d restart your silent treatment from before, but you were bigger than that. If anything, he wished you’d ignore him, since every stare you gave sent a shockwave of guilt through him.

When you failed to turn up for the third game in a row, Roy bottled it on the pitch. He played poorly, and was overly distracted to play decently. He kicked his boots off from frustration when entering the locker room afterwards, and they smacked against the wall of cubbies loudly. Behind him, Sam and Isaac looked at each other knowingly.

Isaac was the first to step in. “Roy,” he said calmly.

“I get it, I played like fucking shit and lost us the win. I fucking get it,” Roy said quickly, trying to get this over and done with.

“Nah, bruv.” Isaac gently grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to face the rest of the team. “This isn’t about the game.”

“She has never missed this many games before,” Sam said, and the team all shared sullen looks. “We get why that would throw you off, but now it is time to do something about it.”

The team nodded in agreement. “Did you read the article at all?” Isaac asked.

Roy frowned. “Why would I? It’s nothing I haven’t read before.”

Sam moved to stand next to Isaac. They looked at each other quickly, and shared a soft kind of look. Isaac turned back to Roy, and squeezed his shoulder. “Just read it, bruv. Seriously.”

“It is not like the others,” Sam added.

When Roy got home that evening, he opened the top drawer of the side table by his front door. It was full of old post and discarded papers, just stuff that didn’t have a place anywhere else. He’d shoved the copy of the Independent in there after the fight. He hadn’t wanted to throw it away for some odd reason. From the drawer, he picked out the newspaper and clutched in tightly. He got himself a whiskey from the kitchen, and sat at his dining table, before opening it up to the sports section.

His face stared back at him judgingly. Donned in his Richmond shirt with his foot on the ball, there was a steely look that had been captured in time on his face. He remembered that day– the first game of the season, where they’d been fucking battered. Beneath it was the article, in all its glory. The words loomed on the page almost scarily, but Roy told himself to get over it.

He inhaled deeply, and then started to read.

The Roy Kent Effect (and what it can do to a person who knows nothing about football)

The first fact I came to realise, working at AFC Richmond, was that Roy Kent is a legend. He was only nine when he was scouted for Sunderland, and he grew up loving the greats– Robbie Fowler, Paul Ince, Gary Neville– but his favourite footballer falls to his namesake; Roy Keane. ‘He didn’t take crap from anyone,’ Roy tells me, over a beer in his Richmond house. It’s full of sports memorabilia, trophies, awards, shirts, that I’m sure any fan of the beautiful game would whimper at. For me, however, it goes straight over my head.

It’s impossible not to feel the gravitas of being in Roy Kent’s home, but I feel it’s wasted on someone like me. I wouldn’t consider myself a football fan, but having been AFC Richmond’s appointed social placement for three months, it is a world that I’m desperately trying to enlighten myself on. Roy knows that, which is probably the only reason he’s let me grill him about his past, despite his very public opinion on the press.

Roy looks nostalgic when he thinks of his initial training. ‘You’ll never know how cool I felt when I was twelve, going to a football academy with the likes of world class players. My life was laid out as soon as I signed on the dotted line, and from the age of fifteen it was obvious I was going to be signed at Chelsea,’ he recounts like it was yesterday.

‘Chelsea. I think I know that team,’ I say, and all it does is make me seem more stupid. Roy shows me he doesn’t mind when a smile appears on his objectively grumpy face, and it eggs me on to try and make the footballer laugh as much as I possibly can throughout this interview. Having been at Richmond for almost half a season now, I know that the boys work hard. Making them laugh is part of my job description, just to break apart the obvious stress they all feel about the rest of the season.

Lasso’s reign is something new that none of them were expecting, and Roy’s face sours slightly when I mention his name. ‘You know Ted just as well as I do, you tell me what you think is going to happen?’ Roy says, and I comically mime locking my lips and throwing away the key. It’s best not to let people who know nothing about this game comment on what could happen at the end of the line.

From his start at seventeen, Roy Kent was a Chelsea staple. He donned that bright blue until his thirty-third birthday, which is when he made the decision to leave. He headed to AFC Richmond soon after. Even though I know nothing, I’m curious to know why he made such a career altering decision– going from the top, to the literal bottom. AFC Richmond haven’t got higher than 18th place in the Premier League in six years. It was practically moving to an alien nation.

‘I’d been at Chelsea for more than a decade,’ Roy starts, and I can’t help but notice the tension on his jaw, covered by his signature beard. ‘It had become routine, my life. The guys were stellar, and the management. Everything was the same, except me.’

‘You mean… your ability?’ Roy nods almost severely, and it’s easy to understand what he’s getting at. It’s then that I get up and grab us another beer. Roy makes it very easy to feel at home, despite someone prodding into parts of his life that he hasn’t spoken about publicly very often. He speaks highly of his sister, and his niece. Family is a large part of what makes him the man he is, one that drags him away from football when he needs to be reminded of other things that make life beautiful– not just the game.

Since arriving at Richmond, I’ve heard a phrase within the walls of the Dogtrack; the Roy Kent Effect. His teammates say it when they nail a play in training. Lasso and Beard say it when Roy makes things easier for their NFL suited brains to understand. His hamstrings say it when he withstands another sports massage from the club physio.

The Roy Kent Effect is a household name at AFC Richmond, only becoming so alongside Roy’s arrival at the club two years prior. When I mention it to him, Roy leans back in his chair and smiles. Yes, he can smile! ‘They’re good lads, the Richmond lot. I see myself in a lot of them. Obisanya, McAdoo, they all work so hard. It’s an honour to be their Captain, but I don’t steer the ship on my own.’

‘I don’t think that’s what the Roy Kent Effect means. It’s not about you leading them.’ I say, and this is the only time I’ve ever felt smart when it comes to football, especially next to the likes of Roy.

Roy leans forward. He likes to show people when he’s listening to them. It only elevates the notion that he knows there’s always something for him to learn. ‘The Roy Kent Effect isn’t anything you do, it’s simply having you around. You’ve been a role model, a leader, a staple of the game, for more than ten years. There’s admiration there, and that’s what they want to show you. That’s why they perform, and overachieve, and kick the ball like their life depends on it. It’s for them to show you how much you mean to the sport.’

He sits with my words silently, as I juggle with the panic I feel at making Roy Kent speechless for once. This will never happen to me again.

It’s only then that I realise the Roy Kent Effect has hit me, too. It’s why I annoyed him for this interview. It’s why I research, why I show up for work everyday, despite knowing very little in the grand scheme. When I learn something new, Roy’s the first person I tell at the club. I fit it into conversation, but he always notices. The other’s are often amazed when I reveal I know a fact, or understand the sport more, but Roy doesn’t make a big deal of it. It’s another reason why I don’t stop. He pushes me, the same way he Captains his team, directs his managers, and plays the damn game– with thought, with care, putting one foot in front of the other, like he’ll drop dead if he doesn’t keep this up.

‘One day I’ll wake up, and without knowing, it’ll be the last day that I ever play football,’ he says, later on. Roy has changed our beers to whiskey. ‘From your perspective, you think football is just a game. But, it’s not for me. It’s my whole life.’

We talk about the possibility of what lies beyond the sport, of what is out there for Roy after his inevitable retirement, but he doesn’t seem to understand that there is more that lies beyond. It’s impossible not to take it to heart. I spend the latter half of the interview trying to slot my feet into his shoes, and I still won’t ever know how it feels to be Roy Kent. Even Roy doesn’t know, which makes me strike off every tabloid photo, pundit quote and incel tweet that’s ever been shared about the Richmond Captain.

He is often described as blunt, harsh, mean, angry, and all of those traits are definitely true. But, the man that sits before me, after welcoming me into his home, his world, his life, is so much more than than. This is the Roy Kent Effect in full force, and I, amongst thousands of others, will not take it lightly when he leaves football behind for good.

“Fuuuuck,” Roy breathed out slowly. The butterflies in his stomach had disappeared.

CHAPTER SEVEN

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​

[kijosakka]

Thoughts. okay so the total drama drama drama drama island special is interesting mainly bc of team e-scope but im going to take a moment here to ramble about his dynamic with other people here,,

(oh and i didn't have anywhere really to slot it into the other post or segue into it here but dodgebrawl as a Moment demonstrates how [this AU] noah can play the social game, just in a very very different way than how it's normally seen.

he knows what he's doing is going to bother his team and incentivize them to vote, i'd say in this au he even plays up the cockiness and makes veiled personal slights against specific people

(mainly those who would be annoyed enough to vote him off, see: heather, justin, leshawna, cody/trent to some extent if he said smth about gwen? < and gwen herself in that scenario. and to another extent beth, since hes playing up his outright mean traits, which would make lindsay vote with her. i dont think he would do anything specific to/with owen or izzy, since he may see izzy as too volatile and owen too genuine)

in the opposite way of whats expected, sure, but it is a social play. he can pick apart what these people are and what they show and push at it to achieve his own ends (and maybe its even some sort of way for him to regain control in this fundamentally uncontrollable situation he's found himself in; he can be the punishment in foucalt's imagining, to a much smaller degree))

so his teammates,,, do not like him tbh. his flagrant display during dodgeball and everyone being pissed at him after the fact is true in this AU, just coming with different motivations. even after the fact when the frustration of everyone fizzles out, hes still majorly offputting because of his detachedness, and deliberately makes his shown traits very unpalatable to experience in person combined with that.

the only two exceptions are izzy and owen respectively: owens mostly coming from a place of genuineness and im going to say while he wouldnt be able to verbalize it, in some manner owen would clock noahs behavior as a defense mechanism. maybe in the sense of 'hes just scared to open up to people!!' or something similar, but he definitely has a lot more faith that noah really isnt that cold and flat.

[*]izzy feels much the same -- except maybe it comes off more to her as strategic. izzy can act, and might recognize that in noah. if you wanted to you could write this in as to why she was eager to swap teams in the first episode, but it wouldnt change that he does get eliminated and thats all she sees of him until the special -- which, her intrigue in his lacking and the fact that it apparently wasnt strategic to get him further in the game, could help explain why she picks him in the team-up.

[*i have soooo much to say about izzy in this au actually. but ill save it for a diff post]

and speaking of the team-up: team e-scope!!!! :0

my au my rules eva and izzy became really good friends on the playa; izzy isn't afraid of eva (and curbing her anger before it reaches a boiling point) and eva is physically adept enough to restrain izzy from Shenanigans that might be a little Much. but eva doesnt really?? know anything about noah?? but izzy insists on teaming with him for the special (and unbeknownst to her noah wasnt even planning to participate initially) so he must be some level of Not Too Bad if izzy wants anything to do with him that doesnt seem to be related to tormenting the guy

and she thinks hes Fine. apathetic and detached and unpalatable (but then again, everyone in their little trio really is to some degree), but can kind of understand izzys intrigue: hes still A Guy, hes just hidden behind 20 layers of non-substance that are so offputting from the first meeting it makes people steer clear of him.

now with tddddi comes two other pertinent details: the justin line, and the Thing With Duncan.

i personally thing noahs 'he's the anti-me' line is really funny in the context of canon but if you squint it kinda works here? wherein justin is non-speaking yet flaunts himself to be the center of attention and clearly shows intent and capacity to scheme (underdeveloped or no, see: awakeathon), whereas noah speaks a lot yet lets himself fade into the background, showing vague hints of the capacity to scheme but no intention or palpable ambition behind it.

^ am i reaching? maybe. the other option here is noah somehow has seen him in-person before on a modeling or red carpet kind of gig and dislikes him on principle because of it/its a jab at it (smth smth they are both opposite ends of the same industry? justin is the face of it in a manner where noah stays behind the scenes and out of sight)

and the thing with duncan,, hear me out here okay noah does his whole song and dance, goes up to him and patronizes him, and duncan retaliates. however, he curses like a sailor and in noah's head has ruined the footage, therefore instead of further retaliating and potentially invoking actual physical harm he just. doesnt react. at all. duncan looks up at him and hes just dead-eyed staring down at him -- and then he leaves.

^ the scene has been ruined, and everyone else is doing so much that theres no reason to play it up any more. duncan and him arent plot important like how heather and lindsay were, theres no reason for the crew to painstakingly edit his swearing out. they just wont let it reach the final cut. duncan is understandably very confused by this, but at that point noah was already gone to find eva and izzy again (< this is when the cast having a running bet that noahs and android becomes Not a Joke)

but life goes on!!! and in the worlds worst comedy of errors (for noah), izzy ends up dragging him along into the lake, thereby leaving him as a confirmed member of the next season.

^ noah is so angry at this. popping blood vessels. he argues with chris endlessly, straight frothing at the mouth at only having two days of real reprieve before he has to deal with the Same Shit again. and chris gets this, to some degree, but also knows that if theres no explanation for noahs non-appearance to hand the producers, theyll be pissed (since all things considered, noahs pretty damn popular among the fans)

luckily for him, courtney just filed a lawsuit against the show!! and since chris is busy running said show, the producers do not want to deal with it and are willing to hand off the case to anyone else -- hence, chris officially signs noah on as his PA, and noah takes over the court settlements and whatnot.

< though i do imagine the producers would see it as a 'get out of the show' scheme, and thereby push way harder for his involvement in WT as a result

but noah does get a break!!! for now, at least.

[yourmomsgranddad]

— PAPER RINGS

— PAIRING: Kate Bishop x Jones!fem!reader

— SUMMARY: MJ knows Kate likes you so she tries her hardest to get you two together.

— WORD COUNT: 4.3k (dang)

— WARNINGS: i think there's a curse word but too lazy to find it, i know there aren't lockers in college but let me be

"Kate, stop!"

She was pulled out of her daze that she was stuck in, and she realized where she was. In the cafeteria with her friends. She still had her backpack and she forgot to take it off.

"Stop what?" She wondered, finally looking at Peter. He looked annoyed with her, like what did she do. "Staring at Y/n. It's getting creepy, dude."

This was a common occurrence, Kate and her friends would sit down and immediately her eyes would shoot to where you were.

It was getting creepy, Peter was right.

"If she wants to stare, let her. She doesn't say anything when you do." MJ called behind Peter, her nose was in her book like usual and it was like she wasn't even there.

"Yeah. MJ's right. I never say anything when you ogle Gwen."

"I DON'T OGLE HER!" He was very quick to defend himself and got very loud. He looked around to see if anyone else was looking at him, and surely enough, no one cared.

"Sure you don't! I bet you know what she's wearing today." Kate tested. She smirked as he fell into his seat, she knew her friend way too well and he knew it.

"I hate you sometimes."

She stuck her tongue out at him teasingly, causing him do the same. "You two are such children." MJ weighed in once more before picking up her stuff and leaving the table. They both watched as she walked across the cafeteria and sat right next to you.

Kate's eyes never left as she watched you get excited talking to MJ and giving her a hug.

It never stopped crossing Kate's mind that you were MJ's sister. In the middle of lunch, at the same time everyday, MJ would take her stuff and go sit with you, her sister. She wanted so badly to ask MJ if she could go with her but something in her was just stopping her from saying it.

So she stayed silent every time she walked away, completely filled with regret.

Kate looked at the clock and suddenly an hour had passed. She didn't even realize she was in the library that long. She was about to get another tardy. Crap.

She shoved all of her stuff into her backpack and just started running.

She was not looking where she was going, she didn't care who she was bumping into, she needed to get to class and these people were just blips in an already bad day.

She thought she was going to speeds unknown to man. She thought she was basically the Flash. She thought she was going to make it to class on time. But of course, something had to get in her way, in the form of a piece of metal.

She went flying into someone's locker, making her fall down.

"Dude, you were going top speeds! Are you okay?" The mystery person wondered as Kate started rubbing the bump that was beginning on her head.

The person who slammed their locker into her, got down to her level and started rubbing her head for her. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you." She began shaking her head, muttering some 'it's fine's' before her eyesight came back to normal and she saw who she bumped into (and who was touching her head).

It was you.

"I think you should go to the nurse, Kate. You collided in that locker a little hard." You sucked in some air as you grimaced at the bruise on her forehead. "How-how do you know my name?" Her words came out a little dazed as she was starting to feel the weird of her injury.

"You're Mish's friend. I know all of her friends."

"Mish?"

You didn't hear her confusion as you helped her off the floor and started guiding her down the hallway, away from her class. "Wait. What about my class?" She began reaching back, almost trying to push herself in the other direction.

"Kate, you're bleeding. I think class can wait."

So she stopped pushing, just walking alongside you, not knowing what to say. This was basically the first time she was talking to you and she was bleeding. Today was going great.

She hadn't even realized how close she was to you right now. She could finally identify the scent that would come from you. Everyday she would wonder what you smell like but she only ever got a small whiff since you were always walking past her but she finally got it.

"What perfume is that?"

"Oh. Some fancy one my mom got me for Christmas. I don't know why I keep wearing it. It makes me smell like a bougie bitch." You griped, rolling your eyes at your own decisions.

"Really? I think you smell wonderful."

Your expression softened at the sound of her compliment. You never heard someone compliment your scent before. In fact, that bougie bitch comment came from MJ when you got it.

"Thank you."

You gave a little look, expressing your gratitude. She returned your gaze and almost didn't want to look away. She never seen your eyes up close and she kind of wanted to cherish it, just in case, this was a dream she was about to wake up from.

Sadly, your staring contest was shortened as you finally made it to the campus nurse. You opened the door with your free hand and helped her sit down on the little couch they kept in the waiting area.

Luckily, there was no one in there today. So they could get to Kate immediately.

"What's going on with her?" The nurse asked you as you went to take Kate's temperature. "I hit her in the face with my locker." You mentioned, almost slumping to make yourself look smaller.

"Why do you kids keep doing this? At some point, you would just stop swinging your lockers open." The nurse seemed to be at her last straw, a lot of other kids probably came in for the same thing.

"Kate, I'll get you some ice and you can lay down if your head is bothering you. I'll give you both late slips." You nodded and the nurse left you there with Kate for a few minutes.

"Sorry about the bruise."

"It's fine. I tripped over Peter's skateboard once."

"He skates?"

"No."

That caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth and suddenly, Kate was in a trance. It was the loveliest sound she had ever heard. She absolutely fell in love with it.

Maybe it was the blood rushing to her head but it seemed like you were moving in slow motion.

But surely enough, time was moving normally and the nurse had come back. She gave you your late slip and it was time for you to go. You waved bye to Kate and disappeared. All in slow motion.

She needed to lay down.

The bell indicating that next period was starting rang as loud as possible, waking Kate up from her daze. She didn't even notice she was sleeping until she heard it.

The nurse popped up in the doorway, causing Kate to jump and almost hit her head again. "Do you have a class you need to be in?"

Kate looked up in thought, there happened to be a picture of her schedule right in the front of her brain. It was Thursday and she was in her sixth period...where was she supposed to be?

"No! I have a free period."

The nurse nodded. "Well if you're feeling better, you can leave." Now it was Kate's turn to nod. Things were awkwardly silent as she grabbed her backpack and shuffled out of the nurse's office as quick as she could.

She face-planted onto her bed, completely disregarding any type of assignment her teachers gave her. It didn't matter right now. She was tired and her head was hurting.

She was almost asleep. Until she heard her phone beep from her pocket. She threw her hand back, just reaching around it like she didn't know where it was. And surely enough, it was from her group chat

emjay 📖: katherine!

kate 🏹: yes mj? is there something you need at this moment?

pete 🕸: we just wanted to know where you were during fifth period. you weren't in science class.

kate 🏹: yeah, because i was in the nurse's office.

emjay 📖: who'd you hurt?

kate 🏹: i was the one that was hurt. i haven't sent that many people to the nurse's office!

pete 🕸: tell that to poor ted! you send him to the nurse's office every other week.

emjay 📖: poor ted, man.

kate 🏹: what? do you guys have a crush on ted or something?

emjay 📖: no!

pete 🕸: a little.

emjay 📖: pin that conversation for later. why were you in the nurse's office?

kate 🏹: your sister hit me with her locker.

pete 🕸: okay! wattpad! did you get her number or did she get kidnapped afterward? did you guys make out or something? spill it!

emjay 📖: why are you such a woman?

pete 🕸: rude.

As she watched her friends bicker back and forth, she noticed an unknown number texted her.

??: hey.

She was a little wary at first, she didn't have a good track record with unknown numbers. They almost always tried to steal her money. She hoped that not what this was.

kate: hello? who is this?

??: oh sorry. that probably seemed a little ominous. it's me, y/n.

Kate froze. Not only was this the first time you spoke in person and touched, but now you were texting her. She was exploding, metaphorically and physically.

kate: oh! how did you get your number?

you: from mj. she gave it to me earlier today. said to text you or call if i ever needed to. i thought it was weird until i gave you head trauma earlier. 😬

She switched tabs real quick, going back to the group chat.

kate 🏹: michelle jones-watson!

pete 🕸: full name alert!

emjay 📖: don't call me watson. what?

kate 🏹: did you give your sister my number?!

emjay 📖: yes i did.

kate 🏹: WHY?!

pete 🕸: for love obviously. mj might not show it but she loves love.

emjay 📖: you start that, i'll break all your bones.

She decided to leave her friends to their bickering and go back to the previous conversation.

you: i didn't text to apologize if that's what you're thinking.

kate: oh? then what for?

you: to make sure you don't tell anybody about this. i'm already on the run from the law and i don't need this on my record.

kate: what about the nurse that helped me?

you: what nurse? 🤫

Kate's stomach settled as the two of you landed in a comfortable banter. Talking to you was more calming than she thought. Talking to you was easy, it was almost like the two of you were friends.

But then Kate noticed the time, you had been talking for a while.

kate: wow, look at the time. guess we should get some rest.

you: you're right. i'll see you later.

kate: night.

you: goodnight, kate ❤️

It was just an emoji. It was just pixels coming from a screen. Then why did her heart jump when she saw it? Why was there a tint forming on her cheeks? Wow, she was whipped and it was frightening.

She was going to bed.

Going into classes the next morning, she needed to tell someone about what happened the night before. She scanned the grounds for one of her friends. She spotted Peter, sitting on a bench, giggling with some guy.

She ran over to him, falling over into his lap. She didn't mean to fall onto him but she didn't care since he didn't.

The guy was long gone and they were just left alone.

"Katie? What's wrong?"

"I was texting with Y/n all night."

Things went silent between them. She looked up to find Peter's eyes opened wide in shock. He wasn't expecting her to say as much as she didn't expect it to happen.

"Why? How? When? Well I know when. But how?"

"Not only that. But when we were saying goodnight, she sent me a red heart." If it was possible, his eyes were even wider. "Dude." That was all he said, letting her know what he was thinking. And her only response was a nod, they both understood what it meant.

"How are you getting more action than me?"

"Oh how are things going with your Gwen quest anyway?"

Suddenly, he fell over and now he was in Kate's lap instead of the other way around. Now she was the one consoling him.

"Every time I try to talk to her, my throat closes up and my hands get sweaty. It's honestly getting annoying." He griped, burying his head in her lap further.

"What's getting annoying?"

They looked beside them, noticing MJ, who just happened to appear in the seat next to Kate. Holding her book, like she was already there.

"Peter's mad because he's weird and can't talk to women, especially Gwen." She let her know, as she continued rubbing Peter's back soothingly.

"You need to stop being weird. I know Gwen. Just be yourself and you should be fine." She wasn't even looking at him as she gave him this advice.

But he nodded, intaking it. Only time would tell if he could do it.

Things were comfortably silent as they just sat there, just enjoying the wind.

"Hi!"

You appeared out of nowhere, almost like MJ did, in front of Kate, causing her to fall over, behind the bench. "Oh shit."

You shuffled toward her, reaching down to help her up. "I feel like at this point, I'm a danger to you." You joked, laughing it off to make yourself feel less bad.

"No. If anything, I'm a danger to myself. You're just a bystander." Leave it up to Kate to make her head trauma about someone else.

Kate looked down, noticing your hands still intertwined. Just looking, you guys were drastically different.

Kate's hands had a few scratches here and there from when she gets so angry she uses her punching bag in the night. Her fingers were just riddled with rings, one on each finger. Her black nail polish was chipped and she didn't ever feel like fixing it.

Your were perfectly clean, your nails were constantly polished, not a chip in sight. You had rings on every other finger.

"Our hands look nice together." You muttered, looking down at your hands with a dreamy look in your eyes.

Kate froze. It's not that she didn't think your hands looked nice together, it's just that she was nervous. So she snatched her hands away, putting them behind her back. It's not what she wanted to do, but it's what she did.

You felt bad so you copied her movement.

Things were painfully silent. People walking by would feel the awkwardness, even if it was for a few seconds. So MJ decided to break it.

"So Y/n, are you going to that frat party tonight?"

"Of course."

"Cool. I was thinking about going."

"Huh?!" You all shouted in unison. It was common knowledge that MJ did not like interact with school functions, especially frat parties. So you were all utterly confused.

"Don't act so surprised. Classes are almost over. I want to be able to say that I went to a college party. And we're all going." MJ just decided for the group.

It's not that Kate's never been to a party before, her mom threw parties all the time. She's just never been to a party with you before. She was about to see a whole new version of you.

Her heartbeat was through the roof.

College parties were a different breed.

Kate's moms parties had adults in formal attire, champagne, and some light dancing here and there. This party was blasting some weird music that Kate couldn't decipher and everyone was chugging beers like there was no tomorrow.

This was normal for a college.

But not normal for Kate.

She followed MJ toward the kitchen, attaching to her like a child at the doctor's office. She was the only person she knew at the party besides you and she didn't want to lose her before she could find you.

That would be heinous.

The kitchen was already messy, drinks covering the floors and the cabinets. Some of them were full but most were empty.

MJ seemed to be in her element almost, opening the fridge and grabbing some food like she lived here. She didn't even care and neither did the frat guys who saw her do it.

"Yo Tyler, where's the peanut butter?" She shouted over the music to a guy sitting on a couch in the other room.

"Wherever you left it last time, MJ!"

"You guys are dirty! I hope you know that!"

He nodded, just accepting the statement. But it only caused Kate to be even more confused as she watched her friend make her sandwich.

"You've been to one of these parties before?" She wondered, standing next to MJ as close as she possibly could. "No. But sometimes I put food in their fridge because they don't eat."

Kate scanned the room, hoping to see you somewhere. She thought it was going to be like a movie, all the dancing kids would part, you two would join up in the middle, and kiss.

But it was nothing like that. It wasn't even close.

You entered shortly after her, and you were immediately welcomed, everyone shouting your name and coming up to give your hugs.

You obviously have been to a lot of these parties.

You pushed through the people, going right to your sister. "Making your sandwich I see." You mentioned, tapping her on the shoulder to let her know you were there. Even though, she most definitely heard everyone screaming your name.

Once again, you were in slow motion as Kate stared at you. She watched as you turned toward her and smiled when you saw her. You grabbed her hands and pulled in for a hug.

She thought this was a dream.

She heard some muffled speak coming from your mouth and now she knew she was tripping.

"Huh?" She shouted, hoping you would repeat yourself. "I said you probably shouldn't drink with your head injury. It might not be safe." Her heart swelled, she loved that you cared so much about her.

"But it's a party. What am I supposed to do if not drink?" She joked, leaning against the counter. "It'll be okay. I'll hang out with you all night."

She thought you were joking which kind of made her sad but you weren't. You stayed next to her all night, talking about everything under the sun.

You both realized that the music was hurting your ears so you found a quiet room and sat on the floor in front of the door.

So no one would just walk in.

You found out everything about each other.

She found out you were a few minutes older than MJ, you loved video games, and that you were one of the few people who actually enjoyed your classes.

"What are you, a nerd or something?" She joked but you just smiled, answering her question. Her eyes went wide as she playfully shoved you. "No way!"

Things were weirdly silent between you as you just sat there, staring at each other. She wondered what was happening and why the talking stopped.

But then she noticed what was happening.

She followed your eye line and surely enough, you were looking at her mouth. Before she could say anything about the awkward silence, you put your hand on her cheek and pulled her into you for a deep kiss.

She wasn't expecting it but she surely welcomed it. She always dreamed of kissing you and now it was happening. She didn't know what to do with her hands, oh no. She was freaking out about her hands when she was literally having her dream kiss.

Wow.

As the two of you were moving closer and the kiss was getting a little more heated, someone tried the door, twisting the knob with no avail.

That made the two of you jump apart, like you were in trouble.

But as quickly as they came, they were gone. And now things were again awkwardly silent. You had just basically made out with Kate and you usually didn't know what to do after this.

So you decided to leave.

"This has been fun but I have to get home. Maybe we could do it again." You winked before exiting through the door, leaving Kate there to think of what just happened.

She thought her head injury was working overtime and she was just imagining everything that just happened. She was still in her bed at home and none of this was happening.

She was being crazy.

She wasn't being crazy.

She woke up the next day and everything that was yesterday was waining on her now. Her eyes were adjusting from being under all that dark light in the frat house. Her makeup was messed up from not taking it off before she went to sleep.

Everything yesterday happened.

She made out with you yesterday.

Yikes.

She got dressed for class and went to find Peter once again. He was talking to Gwen and he wasn't being a humongous dweeb. But she disregarded it. "Dude!" She screamed as she ran up to him, out of breath.

"What?!" He shouted, already sprung into action.

"I made out with Y/n last night!"

"What?!" Everyone in the general area looked right at him, causing both Gwen and Kate to put their hands on his mouth.

"Jeez you are loud." Gwen mentioned, dropping her hands from his face. "Loud for you." He tried, it didn't work at all. Gwen and Kate just scrunched their faces in disgust.

"Don't ever say that again." Kate told him, Gwen nodding along with her, solidifying her point.

He shook his head too, agreeing.

It went silent once more as Peter and Gwen pointed behind Kate, making her look. You were walking toward her and she wasn't ready to talk with you. Not yet.

So you did what any sane person would do.

She ran in the complete opposite direction. She ended up bumping into someone, leaving them down on the floor. "Sorry, Ted!"

"Ted!" Peter shouted, being all dramatic about him falling.

'Since when are him and Ted friends,' Kate thought to herself but she didn't feel like stopping her run to ask so she moved on. Peter was weird, Ted was weird, it was a match made in heaven.

She continued running all day.

Until she couldn't.

She was packing up and the professor had left. She was in the back of the class, putting everything away when you popped up in the doorway. She wanted to book it but you were in the only exit and she wasn't going to leave her expensive backpack here.

She was stuck.

"Hello." You greeted all ominously. "Hi Y/n. It's lovely to see you." She tried but you weren't budging on your angry expression. Understandable.

"Was it lovely to see me when you ran from me?"

She walked right into that one.

"I'm sorry." She finished packing her stuff and ran right up to you almost immediately. "What happened? I thought we had fun last night."

Kate didn't realize while she was running that she was sending the absolute wrong message. She liked you but was just too scared to tell you. Yet she was a superhero? It doesn't really make any sense.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to talk to you. So I ran."

You sat down on the teacher's desk, just awaiting for her to explain herself. So she sat next to you and started talking.

"I like you, okay. I was scared to talk to you all school year but I didn't. So when you hit me with your locker, I figured, perfect time to speak. But then I didn't. Then we started texting, perfect time to tell you. Then I didn't. Then you kissed me and I finally going to say something. Then I got scared and ran. And now we're here."

You sat silent for a few minutes, processing what she said. It look like you were putting the pieces together.

"Why didn't you say something? I was flirting with you because I thought you liked me." Her eyes shot open and her face crunched. That's kind of mean. And teasing. You noticed the look on her face so you explained yourself.

"I like you too. MJ told me you liked me back because she knew I had a crush on you and it was driving me crazy." You gave her one more shove and she suddenly put all the pieces in place.

"Wait a minute. MJ was the one who gave you my number." She mentioned, everything in her brain going into the right spot. "And she's the one who made you go to the party." You added, understanding where her mind was going.

"MJ was playing matchmaker this whole time." Kate giggled, Peter wasn't lying. She did love love. "But something doesn't make sense." She wondered, putting her finger in the sky.

"What?"

"How did she make it so you hit me with your locker?"

"She told me she wanted to borrow my lip gloss, I should have knew something was off when she asked but I just wanted to help. She knew you weren't in class, so she figured we would bump into each other."

"She didn't account for the nose bleed, did she?"

"Maybe she did."

Out of nowhere, you both bursted into giggles.

[nonbinarychaoticstupid]

hai,,, what r ur sulemio headcanons

OHH I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

they are autism4autism this is Very important to understand. suletta stims by swinging herself around miorine stims by being swung around and the distinction is small but IMPORTANT. this also because literally every time i try to write suletta being happy i always imagine her straight up wiggling around with it and i Fully imagine that when they're lying around some nights and cuddling she will just swing miorine around with her while she joyously rolls entirely from one side of the bed to the other on her back giggling and kicking her feet etc etc. miorine is like This is perfect for me I am winning

this also relates to this one tweet that changed me as a person lmao i am of the very firm belief that miorine needs to sometimes be Crushed into a Hug. compressed into a file even. flattened like in a tom and jerry cartoon. and suletta needs to be Holding something all the time. autistic girls who stim by hugging (they are in love). you understand. miorine discovers weighted blankets and her life is changed.

adding onto this they need to be touching All the Time they cannot go anywhere without grabbing onto each other. miorine consistently is like no you dont understand i have to be holding onto her every second of every day or i'll die and for suletta this is just normal behaviour that everyone expects

personally i do Not see miorine as butch (i see the vision though.... i see the vision) but i feel like she would get to earth and start looking into earth history and discover butches and her mind would be BLOWN

EVEN MORE AUTISM!!! miorine has sensory issues regarding clothes and is very specific about the work outfits she wears because otherwise she will have the literal worst day in the world and come home and just Not talk for a 24 hours straight. suletta of course is like. why do you own this blazer anyway it's Evil

they are always talking to each other all the time every moment of every day when they are separated for work reasons LMAO i keep seeing art thats like. work mio vs talking to suletta mio and i think that idea is SO funny. she goes from being your very serious boss to 'affgdhfjdsfggfsgjfgsdh hiii ♥♥♥♥♥♥' the MOMENT her wife is on call and she is So insufferable about it. suletta is equally annoying she will literally get a call and be like 'excuse me MY WIFE is ringing :)' and be on the phone for the next hour telling miorine about her day in excruciating detail (they are going to call again when miorine's meetings end in less than 2 hours). earth house is very divided on whether it's absurdly cute or not (chuchu vs Everyone Else)

miorine and elnora very specifically only get along for the purpose of making suletta happy LMAO they don't hate each other but they are absolutely not at any level of friendship and will likely not be for a very very long time. elnora does help with her work stuff a lot because she's used to the insane machinations of loser capitalists though

speaking of relationships with elnora i think it takes suletta a long time to work through the whole repli-child stuff and it's very important to her that she starts on that separately to spending more time with elnora. she tells miorine about the whole thing (she's been trying to work up the courage for months) and miorine is immediately like. do you want me to punch her for you. i will punch your mother for you. this is great for suletta because she fully thought miorine was going to break off the engagement and everything (there is no basis for this) + she continues to have a lot of identity issues about it as regular life progresses because it turns out that pretending that everything is fine does not in fact make it fine!!

i choose to believe that there is enough space in the cockpit of chuchus mobile suit for them to squish in behind her seat when miorine comes and finds her after quiet zero. suletta is barely conscious but miorine (who is terrified she will just die there and then) keeps talking to her (mostly sobbing hysterically and telling her off for making her think she was dead) and its at this point that suletta asks her if she loves her. (chuchu is very pointedly pretending not to notice and doing her best to tune them out)

miorine, still sobbing hysterically: oh my g-d. are you insane. of course im in love with you. what do you think all of this was about suletta: oh sweet! :3

i have written this scene out and will post it one day i think it's the catradora in me thats like. they HAVE to have a love confession and kiss NOW. i just think itd be so neat if it paralleled their first meeting even more.... miorine helps suletta take off her helmet and kisses her.... do you see my vision

suletta plays the guitar and miorine sings. you agree. reblog.

genuinely though i think suletta would pick up guitar to help with her hands and miorine, who is also getting back into playing piano around this time, gets into the habit of singing along while she's doing things around the house

suletta calls her wheelchair aerial 2.0 and nuno and ojelo help her paint it in aerial's colours. when she moves to crutches they get the holder colours

technically they still have a year of school to go but for most of it suletta isn't able to go to lessons + focusing mainly on her physical therapy and miorine is too busy dealing with the benerit group's funds that for all intents and purposes they're no longer enrolled. miorine's rooms aren't wheelchair-accessible and so they stay in earth house instead until they turn 18 and can legally buy a home on earth. all of earth house subsequently has to third wheel

they don't get married for a little while. mostly because suletta is in recovery but miorine also needs to work up the courage to actually ask. (eri bullies her into taking her with her when she goes ring shopping) eventually she gets around to it after suletta's health starts improving and when she pulls out the ring box suletta is like Oh! and reveals that she literally cut up and made paper rings one day for this specific purpose

their wedding is on earth, to sort of start the official move. miorine pulls some strings to get nika to at least be able to See whats going on + they have the ceremony in a big field not far from their new house. suletta's chair (aerial 2.0) is decorated with So many flowers as per the instructions of the kids in the neighbouring town (who love her + want to be her first students) and miorine absolutely did not get away without getting Flowered too. they both are crying the whole day and neither of them are subtle about it

miorine's hair gets shorter and suletta's gets longer. miorine just wakes up one day and is like I HAVE TO GET RID OF IT

mio fell basically immediately but i think that its only when suletta is in space with el4n that she realises + it clicks for suletta when miorine literally starts a company for her lmao

[cookies-over-yonder]

seven minutes in hell

Normal and Taylor won't stop arguing, so Scary does what any sane person would do, and shoves them into a closet.

gift for @officialgleamstar and @llumimoon :3c

ao3

“I’m gonna go pick up the pizza.”

Taylor grabs his cane and gets up from the couch.

Normal isn’t all that hungry, and besides, the vegan pizza options mostly suck anyway, so he let everyone else order whatever they wanted.

Link gets up too. “I’ll come with.”

And Link is going with him. Of course. Normal scoffs.

“What was that?” Taylor asks, with a slight edge to his voice.

“Oh, nothing, I just figured you two were going off alone again. Ignore me,” Normal cuts back with the wave of his hand.

“What’s your problem, Normal?” Taylor steps closer, and rather than glaring back, Normal locks his gaze on Taylor’s dangling and sparkly heart earring, scarlet like the streaks in his hair.

“I don’t have a problem,” Normal mumbles.

“ Yes , you do,” Taylor lifts an arm to point an accusatory finger, and the movement makes the earring sway backward and forward. Normal didn’t initially know Taylor to wear flashy accessories, but it seems like the survivalism paired with mandatory camouflage has worn off a little. “You’re always weird with me.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that everybody loves you even though they hate me!”

“Huh?”

Taylor’s eyeshadow matches his earrings too, scarlet and sparkling. Normal thinks he’s only started wearing eyeshadow recently, though he’s worn the same black cat-eye eyeliner for as long as Normal can remember.

“Just…”

Well. Now he’s looking into Taylor’s eyes.

And they’re confused.

And Normal can feel the explanation bubbling up and his filter fails him, but maybe that’s fine. Maybe everyone will see his side.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Normal stands up to reach a level playing ground with Taylor. “You’re not taunted. You’re not shunned. You’re not bullied. You’re not ignored. Everyone loves you even though you’re just as annoying as me! ” Normal sucks in a breath. “No. Even more. You’re even more annoying than me. You’re so full of yourself even though you’re a loser too, and I can’t wrap my head around why everyone likes you when they can’t like me.”

Normal huffs, cheeks hot.

Taylor stares back, eyes glassy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?” Taylor’s voice remains strong as ever despite the tears in his eyes. “If you hate me so much, then why are we even here? It’s not my fault that you’re just a jealous bitch! We’re getting the fucking food!”

He grabs Link by the arm and starts marching toward the door.

“ Hey. ”

A sharp voice cuts through the tension in the air like a knife.

Scary.

The look in her eyes means business, and Normal feels he can’t say a word.

“ What. ”

Ah, leave it to Taylor to fill the silence.

“You two,” she grabs Taylor and Normal each by the wrists. Taylor yelps and she whispers a quick apology before dragging the both of them down the hallway.

Next thing Normal knows, he’s thrown into a closet with Taylor.

“Don’t come out until you’ve figured out your shit!” Scary shouts from outside the door.

“Scary, are you sure—”

“This is their fucking problem, Link, and they’re going to fix it. I’m sick of it.”

“Okay, okay.”

Normal hears Scary grumble something about pizza, and then two sets of footsteps trailing away.

“Is she serious?” Normal huffs, staring at the closet door. It’s not like it has a lock.

“Are you serious?” Taylor snaps, and Normal locks eyes with his, and suddenly he can’t pull away.

The strand of jet black hair that lands just over his left eye is backlit.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Normal breathes out despite himself.

“Dude.”

“Right.”

“You know you don’t know everything, right?” Taylor asks, voice a lot softer than before. Shakier too.

Fuck.

It finally sets in.

Normal barely processed what he was saying in the moment, and now, well.

He thinks he might be sick.

“Look, Taylor, I’m sorr—”

“Stop. Just stop. You apologize every time I make you pissed. I get it.”

“It’s not—”

“And I also get that your jealousy is why you keep projecting everything you hate about yourself onto me.”

Taylor clears his throat.

Normal swallows.

“Honestly, I don’t get why you hate yourself so much. You’re not a loser. You’re on the fucking cheerleading team. I think I’d collapse and die if I tried doing one of those routines,” Taylor swipes a hand through his hair.

“You wouldn’t die.”

“Let’s not test that theory.”

“Right.”

“Also, not everyone hates you. There’s at least us, your friends,” Taylor says, with his hand landing on Normal’s shoulder, sending shivers down his spine.

“You don’t hate me after I said all that stuff to you?” he asks, shutting his eyes.

“Do you hate me for calling you a jealous bitch?”

“No. I deserved it.”

“That’s another thing I don’t get.”

“Huh?”

Normal looks back up at Taylor’s glowing eyes, startlingly sincere.

“You said everyone loves me. That’s not true.”

“Really?”

He nods.

“You wanna know why I took up martial arts?”

“Why?”

“To defend myself.”

“Well, yeah—”

“Against bullies .”

“Oh.”

“I have haters too. They just can’t handle T. Swift. But that’s their problem. And the same thing goes for you,” Taylor moves his hand from Normal’s shoulder to press a finger to his chest, and Normal sucks in a breath. His long, claw-like nails are painted with a red to match the rest of his look. “It’s their problem. Not yours.”

All Normal can do is nod.

“And I’m sorry too. For excluding you, I mean.”

“No, that’s—I was just reading into it.”

“Well, either way, you’re always welcome to join in.”

“Thanks, Taylor.”

“No problem, Normie.”

The nickname makes his stomach flutter a little.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a pretty cool dude,” he adds.

“I think you’re cool too.”

Next thing Normal knows, Taylor’s wrapping him up in a tight hug, one where he’d usually suspect Taylor’s knowledge of pressure points to come into play, but this isn’t an attack.

Still, he can feel his heart thudding.

And Taylor smells nice. Like flowers. That’s the last thing he’d expect.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, though hesitantly.

“When did you start wearing eyeshadow?” Normal asks. Though it’s dark, he can still see the contrast of red against his olive skin.

“Oh, like, a few weeks ago? You like it?”

“It’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” Taylor bites his lip.

Cherry red lipstick.

He really did coordinate well.

“... heaven.”

Taylor was saying something.

Fuck.

He got distracted.

“What was that?” Normal asks, eyes still on Taylor’s lips. Despite the dark closet, it’s a red so bright. Pretty colour.

“I said it’s funny how Scary sent us into seven minutes in heaven.”

“Pfft, more like seven minutes in hell,” Normal replies, though the thought of that game is enough to tear his gaze away and bring it back to Taylor’s eyes.

“Oh, what, ‘cause I’m a demon?”

“Mhm!”

“You write fanfiction, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You ever written a seven minutes in heaven fic?”

“It’s kinda hard to fit two mascots into a closet.”

“I’d say that makes it even steamier.”

“Taylor!”

Taylor giggles, and man, it’s insufferably cute. Whatever. Taylor’s always been cute, and Normal’s sure everyone knows it.

“I’m just saying! It’s a fun trope. I’ve written it.”

“I knew you were a fanfic writer!”

“How did you?”

“Author recognizes author, I suppose.”

Taylor bites his lip again, grinning like mad.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I don’t know, I missed you.”

“Missed me?”

“Like…” Taylor grabs Normal’s hand and holds their interlocked grasp between their chests. “We were never super close, but we used to actually talk. I don’t know how the fighting started, but can we make a truce or something? Like is it over?”

God.

Taylor is so sweet.

He might be one of the most loyal people Normal knows.

“Yeah. It’s over,” Normal smiles back at him.

“I guess Scary was right, all we needed was a makeout session to solve our problems.”

“ What? ”

“Because it’s seven minutes in heaven.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, my fics often start with bickering too,” Taylor smirks.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’m telling you about my writing habits,” Taylor says, leaning in closer. He’s definitely trying to fluster Normal with his fluttering eyelids and glittering blush and cherry red lips that have some sort of magnetic pull luring him in.

And it’s working.

“This is seven minutes in hell.”

“Oh please,” Taylor leans away, and starts pushing the door open, “you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupi—”

Normal is the type to get what he wants.

Normal is the type to follow his heart.

He’s impulsive.

And yes, that impulse has led to danger.

And yes, that impulse has led to hurt feelings.

That impulse may be why some hate him.

Chasing his desires may be why some hate him.

His desires themselves may be why some hate him.

But that’s their problem.

Because right now, he finds himself lip-locked in the closet with Taylor Swift, hands on his cheeks.

And Taylor’s hands make purchase on the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

When they part for air, Taylor gasps, looking back at Normal dazed, before his eyes float back to his lips. And he leans in again, but before he can close the gap—

“It made you look pretty stupid too.”

“Yeah,” Taylor breathes out, before pulling him back in.

Kissing Taylor is like having your soul sucked out of you and replaced with lava. The desperation and craving that he exhibits makes Normal wonder how long he’d been wanting.

And Normal doesn’t know when, but Taylor pins him against the closet wall, breathing heavy before taking more of Normal’s air.

And Taylor’s tail coils around Normal’s wrist and pulls, like it’ll never let go again.

An involuntary whine escapes Normal’s throat, and Taylor freezes before backing away.

Normal misses the heat of his lips immediately.

“You okay?” Taylor asks, breathless, licking lipstick off his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, I… I… holy shit …”

Taylor nods and his head dips down. His cheeks are flushed bright red and Normal can feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re really warm,” Normal says, holding him steady by the arm.

“‘M good. Just need something to drink.”

“Okay, I just don’t want you to pass out or anything.”

“Still would’a been worth it.”

And almost as if on cue, the voice of Scary rings through the hall:

“We got pizza and drinks! You guys done yet?”

“I’d still say this was seven minutes in hell,” Normal whispers, “because you ,” he presses a finger against Taylor’s chest, “are an insatiable demon.”

Taylor looks back with a mischievous glint in his eye and a fangy grin on his face.

(*˘︶˘*).｡*♡✧*(◍•ᴗ•◍)✧

[nicnacsnonsense]

I ultimately find Ben a very uninteresting character, and I think the problem is they ruined him by focusing too hard on the mystery of his connection with Glory and his intentions.

Because prior to the reveal Ben is painted as someone who acts like a good guy, but in private is actually very self-centered. Like, he hates Glory, but on a personal level not a moral level, and he doesn’t actually care what she does except in as far as it makes things inconvenient for him. Honestly, I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but it kind of comes off like he is one of the other two Hell Gods from the same dimension as Glory, but he’s just trying to settle in and live his life here on Earth and finds all of Glory’s nonsense annoying. Which by the way could have been a really interesting concept for the character (not saying what they should have done, but better than what they did at least.)

But then we get the reveal that Ben and Glory are the same person, and now all the sudden Ben just is this really good guy who is trying to protect Dawn from Glory and he’s been the restraining voice in the back of Glory’s head this whole time. Which also is a fine and interesting concept for a character, genuinely really good person who is forced to body share with a Hell God, but that’s not what he’s been up until this point so it’s hard to get invested in it now. And then he betrays Dawn to Glory to save himself and it’s like, sure why not, makes as much sense as anything.

It also takes the punch out of both Buffy choosing to let him live and Giles choosing to kill him. Because Ben is innocent and good enough that it makes sense that Buffy would choose to let him live, but he’s selfish enough that I can’t get to worked up over the moral grayness of Giles killing him to save the world the way I could if Ben were genuinely completely innocent.

Also why were there not more Ben and Dawn parallels? They were both once something very old and very powerful, shoved into a purely mortal human body. Neither of them have any memories of their past self and they both just want to live their lives, but said past self is proving a threat to their normal mortal existence. Like, you could do a lot of stuff with that!

[fels-fantasy-hoard]

A general reminder to gms to never turn a recurring or tag along npc into a plot device as your players will notice and it will piss them off (rant incoming)

The last dnd game I was in as a player I wound up leaving due to this exact thing. My character’s whole deal was protecting and caring for a child npc that shared their tragic backstory. Unfortunately for me, this npc became the gm’s favorite new toy and not only did they make this npc more powerful than every one of the players and more intelligent than all of us, the dm used them to facilitate literally almost every plot point from the moment I joined the team.

I spent so much in game time dealing with this npc’s bullshit that I barely had any time to actually get to know the other characters or make any meaningful bonds with them. This npc was constantly dragging me away from them and derailing the story because the gm used them like a carrot on a string to create drama. I don’t even know what our goal as a party was other than collect the macguffin and take down the government because every plot after I joined revolved around finding this npc because they ran off or protecting them from their own idiocy or having a crisis because this npc wants to kill themself.

I cannot describe to you how annoying it was walking into every session expecting this npc to act in any consistent way. One session they would be moping about how they don’t belong in this world because they are too smart for their own good and the next they are being manipulated and kidnapped like a normal 5 year old by someone plot convenient so the party gains plot relevant information. One session they don’t want to use their insane power because it’s too much and the next they want to practice by torturing people and animals and the next they leave the fortified base to go flower picking to drag the party to learn more plot relevant information. Every single session I was dealing with an entirely different character whose levels of intelligence and emotional maturity changed on a dime to suite the gm’s needs. It was exhausting and this on top of a few other things made me leave the group.

If a player hands you something like this, show some restraint. Please. Especially right after they join the crew. I’d say restraint is one of the most important aspect of being a story teller in general.

I gave this gm two big red buttons with my character and they pushed both of them immediately. The dm brought in my characters personal antagonist session 2, before I had any kind of bond with the crew and was at the point where when I had the option to have my character lose their memories of this antagonist I took it just to remove that button because I could immediately tell this gm has zero restraint.

I talked with the dm out of session and asked them to tone it back because ever since I joined literally every single plot had my character at the center and she kept pushing me/my character to drastic measures that were preventing my from actually interacting with the rest of the crew or even learning what our goals were. For fuck sake I removed my character’s memories of their antagonist because they were nearing the point of saying fuck it and leaving the group just to escape this person.

Did the gm listen? No. Not only did they continue dragging my character’s antagonist into the plot, they kept using this npc to create drama and push the plot forwards in inorganic way.

If you have to use an npc as a plot device, then at least keep their characterization consistent. If story is the main focus of this campaign, it’s like watching the gm reach into the game and tell you directly: hey, hey, players, go here for plot. It breaks the immersion. If it happens on occasion, that’s fine it’s bound to happen eventually. But when it’s happening every session… oh boy is it extremely annoying and hits one of my biggest pet peeves in writing: seeing the hand of the author. There are a million ways to make a plot hook feel in congruence with the story and the world. If you need to take an npc out of character to make it happen, your players will notice.

Tldr. If you are running a long form campaign- use restraint. I promise you that holding back and waiting to push the big red buttons your players give you will be so much more rewarding for everyone if you wait. Don’t force the story. Let it breathe.