#thank you to the teeny tinies for helping me choose

[doeeyeseddie]

buckactuallys -> doeeyeseddie

tagging some mutuals 🫶🏼 @seacoloredeyes @leothil @clusterbuck @hattalove @capseycartwright @bibibuck @littlespoonevan @sibylsleaves @shitouttabuck @catdadeddie @mistmarauder @dearestdiaz @nymika-arts @mellaithwen @captain-hen @caroandcats

[emilys-bangs]

cherry lips l e.p

Tags: fluff, first kiss, getting together, r has a lip peeling problem (bc I do too), teeny tiny mention of blood (from the lip peeling), no use of yn

Summary: Tired of seeing you pick at your lips, Emily gives you some lip balm. That proves to be a mistake.

Word count: 1.5k

“Here.” Emily throws a stick of lip balm at you. 

It falls on your lap and you give her a confused frown. She barely holds back an eye roll; your fingers are currently pinching a rough patch of skin on your lip—the rest is already peeled off—and when you drop your hand to pick up the chapstick, she catches a smear of blood on your thumbnail.

It really is such a shame. 

You have the most beautiful lips; kissable and soft looking and she’s so often gripped with the urge to lean forward and press her own to yours, test out that softness for herself.

But you have a bad habit—you pick at them constantly, your nails catching on rough skin and peeling it off, leaving behind bright red marks that are sometimes painful to look at. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful to her—god, she wished it did—but sometimes she takes pity on those poor lips of yours. And when she was shopping for some mid-week groceries last night, she couldn’t help but toss the chapstick in her cart.

She won’t be thinking too hard about why she did that.

“Really?” You ask, turning the chapstick over between your fingers, biting your lips to hold back a smile.

Emily’s heart trips when you look up at her with a quirk of your brow; she’s usually good at reading you, but right now she can’t tell if you’re amused or exasperated.

“Since you obviously don’t own one,” she quips, sitting down on the edge of your desk. You roll your eyes and run your thumb over the plastic tube, your nail dragging over the white lettering on the side.

Cherry.

Emily definitely didn’t choose that because it’s her favorite, and she most definitely didn’t choose it because she wants to see how that shade of red would look on your lips.

“I do,” you scoff, unthinkingly bringing your other hand to your mouth. Emily grimaces as you start tearing at the skin, insistent on peeling it off.

“Hey, stop that,” she swats at your hand. You frown as your hand drops to your lap. “Put some Vaseline on or something,” she says, her brow creasing at the blood slowly blooming on your lip, “or some of that chapstick you definitely own.”

She looks at you expectantly and you huff. “Smartass.” You mutter as she turns and snatches a tissue from Reid’s desk.

Emily arches her brow as she extends it to you. “Thank you, Emily, for giving me something I so desperately needed. Oh, no problem, it was my pleasure, really—”

You laugh as you take the tissue from her and press it to your bottom lip, wiping away the little smidge of blood. 

“Thank you, Emily.” You say sincerely, looking up at her through your lashes. “I really, really appreciate you giving me this lip balm and I promise to use it till it runs out.” You vow, your voice silky smooth, fingers wrapped around the chapstick as you hold it to your heart.

Emily’s heart stumbles once more. Do you know the effect you have on her? Sometimes she thinks you do, with the way you flirt with her, but other times you drip with genuine innocence, your smiles nothing but friendly.

“Whatever,” she murmurs, her booted toe lightly hitting yours. You smile and uncap the lip balm, twisting it to reveal a stick of deep red, almost burgundy. 

She almost stops breathing when you turn to the tiny mirror on your desk and start applying it, your lips quickly tinting red, the uneven splotches of recently peeled skin disappearing. You trace it over your skin and smooth your lips together when you’re done, spreading the balm evenly before you turn back to her.

“Good?” You ask as you cap the chapstick and slip it into your pocket. Something in her grows warm at the thought of you carrying it with you. She wonders if it’ll find its way onto your nightstand tonight, if it’ll be hidden in the pocket of one of your blazers tomorrow.

Emily almost laughs at the question. Her eyes drop to your lips, just to check, as if she hadn’t been ogling them while you’ve been turned away. She can still see the edge of the rough skin you were picking at, but it’s mostly hidden beneath the red. She has to tear her eyes from your lips, still ever so perfect.

Kissable. 

“Good,” she agrees, inclining her head in a nod. “I sincerely hope you’ll keep using it.” Her voice turns sickly sweet as she smiles, dimples curving in her cheeks. Your eyes brighten at the shift in her tone.

Grinning, you rest your chin on your palm. “Aw, you wanna kiss me that bad, Prentiss?” You tease. 

She laughs breathily, the sound a little choked if you listen properly. You have no idea.

“Just don’t want those lips to scare anyone away, hon,” she taps your nose and slides off your desk, grinning when you flip her off.

She settles back into her own desk and looks across at you, her heart warming at the light blush on your cheeks, a similar pink to your lips.

“Screw you, Emily,” you grumble, but you’re not fooling anyone with your poorly hidden smile.

She winks at you. “You’ll thank me later.”

----

It’s possibly the worst mistake she’s ever made.

Ever since she handed you the lip balm, you’ve been diligently applying it. Your lips are no longer cracked or dry; they’re plump and healed, shining with a subtle pink sheen, veering into red from the lip balm.

It goes without saying that work has become infinitely harder. She can’t focus when she sees the imprint of your lips on your coffee mug, a red kiss on the rim after you tip your drink back. When you pull out the chapstick in front of her she goes blank, her eyes zeroing in on the smooth, impossibly softer looking skin of your lips.

It only takes a week before her mind inevitably slips and exposes her.

You’re smoothing your hair in the bathroom when she walks in, also intent on touching up her appearance before delivering the profile. Your gaze slides to her and you smile, those perfect lips of yours turning up at the sight of her.

“Hey,” you say as she approaches, but she’s not listening. You’re turning over the chapstick between your fingers, the sheen on your lips telling her it’s freshly applied.

Emily doesn’t return your greeting. Her gaze drops to your mouth as she steps in close, closer than she realizes. 

“Your lips look good,” she says quietly. 

Your brows lift and immediately she feels her stomach drop, a flush rising up her cheeks. “Better,” she amends, her words breathless with embarrassment, “they look better. Than before. Not chapped.”

She really should stop talking. Her mouth snaps shut as her cheeks start to flame. She should stop looking at you, she thinks as your gaze drags over her. Your eyes linger on the pink tint of her pale cheeks, her widened eyes, the flush crawling up her jaw. She swallows and your eyes track that, too, making her body heat.

Emily sees the exact moment something shifts in your expression, as if you’ve come to a decision. Absently, you rub your smooth lips together. Absently, her eyes fall to them.

“They look good, huh?” You tilt your head. You take a few steps and close the miniscule distance between you two. Her chest presses into yours; she breathes in sharply. 

“You know what, Em?” You murmur, your eyes locked on hers in a way that makes her feel dizzy. “They feel even better.”

Emily’s heart races as you slip the lip balm back into your pocket. When you lean in impossibly closer and place your hand on her cheek, she stops breathing entirely.

“We’ve been playing this game for a while,” you say, your thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. She leans her face into your hand, chasing your touch. You smile.

“But it’s not a game, is it, Em?”

God, when you say her name like that. When you say Em and not Emily, when you let the syllables roll around on your tongue, when you say it lazily, carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.

Her hand finds your waist. She smiles a little, through her racing heart. “No,” she agrees softly. “It’s not.”

Your skin is warm through your clothes. She hears the soft hitch in your breath, the way your skin caves beneath her touch.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Emily laughs, soft and a little breathless. “Please,” she twists her fingers into your shirt, feels the material slip against her skin.

When you finally kiss her, she tastes cherries.

*I didn’t expect to write this so quickly after the first one but inspiration struck and I ran with it haha. I hope you enjoyed <33 I’d possibly like to write more for em, so if you’ve got any requests, pop in my inbox and let me know!

[thornsnvultures]

everything I want...

bucky barnes x plus size!avenger!reader

summary: being sent on a mission with bucky should be a piece of cake, but he's been acting strange around you for weeks now and you have no clue why.

cw: SMUT, fingering, oral sex (fem rec), shower sex, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, breath play, breeding kink, pregnancy/lactation kink (very little), possessive pervy bucky (he gets a bit feral in this one), solo masturbation mention (m), steve rogers meddling being a great wingman, angst with a happy ending, 4.4k words

a/n: my entry for the lovely @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event 🖤 Lust is the sin I chose for this fic and really it was an excuse to write filth lol I really hope you enjoy it! (and a quick thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going, this fic wouldn't be here without you)

18+ MINORS DNI

-----

"You'll be with Barnes for this mission. Get in, get out, no big deal. We've done this before and it doesn't look like it'll be much of a problem."

Steve smiles politely at you as he hands you the briefing folder with all the info on where you'll be going and why.

"If it's so easy why doesn't Barnes go alone?"

You regret opening your mouth as soon as the words come out, choosing to bite your lip and open the folder instead of looking at Steve's patented Look of Disapproval.

"Be ready and on the jet in two hours," Steve sighs.

"Yes, Captain."

Steve marches out of the room, always moving like a man on a mission even when he's not on one. No, this one's just you and Bucky. The man who's been avoiding you like the plague the last few weeks. Someone who you thought was at least a friendly acquaintance, a close colleague maybe.

He went from joking with you on the jet and bringing you coffee when he got one for himself from the canteen, to not even looking at you. Like even daring to lift his head when you walked by would get him booted from the team and sent back to Hydra.

You wouldn't say the two of you were close, but being a part of this team, working with these people; it was hard making friends with people who didn't understand, who didn't live on the compound. Sure there were SHIELD agents you saw here and there at the gym or around medical or the offices. But you saw Bucky damn near every day since you joined the team. And now out of the blue he was pretending like you didn't exist.

It didn't help that you had a not so teeny tiny crush on the man either.

Maybe this mission was a peace offering, Steve's way of getting the two of you to rebuild, reconnect. For the betterment of the team...or whatever. The sooner you got it done, the sooner you could get home and get away; from Bucky and from your own hurt feelings.

-----

Steve was right, the mission didn't take long at all. You were able to get in and get out with the information you needed with little to no fuss. Barnes was the perfect partner to watch your six with the way he was avoiding you and it totally didn't bother you that he hadn't said a word to you outside of what was strictly necessary. Totally.

When you got back to the hotel, Bucky got on the phone with Steve right away, still avoiding. He did need to call Steve to debrief, but he wasn't even saying much, just standing there with the phone to his ear, grunting every now and then.

Frustrated, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled of your boots. Bucky was facing the window, looking over the city. The hotel room was modest, but modest for Tony Stark's standards was still luxurious and you wanted to take advantage of the shower that was practically the size of your bedroom back home before you guys left. You weren't waiting for Bucky to shower first.

"I'm taking a shower," you called out. Bucky made a noise but didn't turn around. His back muscles shifted against the tight black tshirt he wore when he shrugged at something Steve must've said over the phone. You couldn't hear what they were discussing but you could sense Bucky's tension from across the room. From the way he looked you'd think the mission was a failure, that he was reporting back with terrible news even though you know everything went well. Your fingers itched to rub soothing circles over his back, ease some of that tension away...

Shower, think of the shower. He doesn't deserve it.

Once you figured out which knobs controlled which of the four differently angled shower heads, you hopped in. Your clothes lay discarded on the sink as steam filled the room. It was heavenly. You'd have to ask Tony about installing a system like this in your apartment.

As you soaped up with the hotel body wash, your mind started to wander to the same person it always seemed to these days.

Part of why Bucky's sudden rejection was so painful was how much you'd grown to care about him. It felt silly, having a crush like this at your grown ass age, but that's what it was. Your stomach fluttering, your heart racing. You hoped he didn't know just how much he affected you every time he brought you coffee or talked to you or sat near you in a meeting.

Maybe that's why he's been avoiding you, maybe he caught on and...he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he's trying to put distance between the two of you so you'd get the hint.

God, how embarrassing. You stand there with your hands on your chest, over your breaking heart, and try to hold it together instead of blabbering like a baby.

Of course he doesn't want you. He's a super soldier, practically a God. And he's been through so much. He's not the type to want a...girlfriend right now, especially someone on the team.

Suds drip from your breasts as you try to finish your shower, bending over to scrub your feet while you try not to cry. It's silly, silly and stupid. But you were hoping that even if he didn't like you that way, that you wouldn't lose a friend too.

The thought of him never speaking to you again makes a tear finally fight its way free and you choke out a sob as it falls down your cheek. You hope the pounding water is enough to mask your choking sobs but who knows. Your emotions are all over the place. You can't seem to stop crying and you're angry. Angry at Steve for putting you on this mission, angry at your tears and angry that Bucky might be totally lost to you.

-----

Bucky can smell you.

He stands by the hotel window, holding the bridge of his nose like that'll make it stop. It never does. You're always there, invading his senses. Not just your body wash or the shampoo you use, or the heavy floral stuff the hotel has stocked up in the bathroom. He's trying not to imagine you using the individually wrapped bars of soap to lather yourself up not twenty feet away from him, but just like his hand on his nose, nothing helps.

No, even under all the artificial stuff, it's you that drives his senses wild. Something encoded in your goddamn DNA that fries his brain.

It took him a while to figure out what it was that made it hard to be around you. He could ignore it at first, when you first joined the team. He was still fresh himself, finally coming back to be a do-gooder with Steve and the team after talking time to heal and scrape away what was left of Hydra's programming. There wasn't time to acknowledge the way his dick twitched every time you entered the room. It wasn't appropriate. And Steve would kick his ass for chatting up the newcomer anyway.

But as the weeks and months drew on, as he found himself getting more comfortable, more used to a routine that always seemed to revolve around you, he couldn't ignore it.

He felt like a dog in heat. Most of the time he could manage it, but there were days out of every month where he'd scramble for the nearest bathroom, broom closet, empty meeting room, anything after being with you for even five minutes so he could relieve himself. Biting his lip until he bled to keep from cursing your name as he worked his fist over his cock until there was nothing left.

It was maddening, the shift in your scent. He craved you constantly, but those times when his needs couldn't be ignored he felt out of control. Like he was a snap of your fingers away from becoming him again.

It wasn't until you left your phone unattended in the compound gym that things started to make sense.

You had been chatting on the treadmill with a SHIELD agent. Bucky pretended to be focused on his workout while he listened in to your conversation. Your agent friend was talking about her and her partner trying for a baby so you recommended a period tracker app that you had been using for a while.

"It's great! After you've been using it for a few months it can predict when you'll be ovulating for max baby making potential."

Your friend laughed at the saucy tone in your voice, Bucky nearly dropped the massive dumbell he was curling on his foot. Images of you, breasts heavy and leaking, swollen and pregnant with his child was all he could see. And fuck him, he wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So when your friend was gone and you hopped off the treadmill momentarily in search of your water bottle, leaving your phone behind, Bucky took his chance to sneak a quick look.

It was all right there. He remembers the last day he could smell you so strongly he could barely stand it. He almost got caught in the gym showers, slamming a crack into the tile wall when he came so hard his vision went black with the scent of you burned in his brain. He didn't see you for two days after that but when he did there was a coppery edge to your scent. And the app on your phone proved it.

You were ovulating. Your body was practically screaming for him, demanding that he do what he was made to do and breed your sweet cunt. His need to rut into you, to bury himself deep and pump you full of his cum over and over, no matter how long it took until it sticks, finally made sense.

Bucky already knew he cared for you, but he didn't want to scare you, overwhelm you. He wanted to do right by you, take you on dates, show you how special you are to him. But this feral need to claim you wasn't stopping any time soon either. Maybe, he thought, he should give you some space. Give whatever this feeling was done distance and it would calm down. Then...then he could tell you how he felt. He needed to clear your scent from his mind before he was trapped in a constant state of relieving himself by his own hand month after month, wasting what belonged to you in tissues and shower drains.

-----

So he stayed away, for an entire month at that, before Steve got sick of his shit excuses and put the two of you on this mission together.

"Whatever's going on with you two, you need to work it out. We're not in forth grade any more, Buck, you can't pretend a girl has cooties just cause you feel weird about liking her."

Bucky tensed as he heard her boots fall to the floor behind him.

"I don't-"

"Don't bullshit me, Bucky."

"Language," Bucky's lip quirked, almost a smile.

"I'm taking a shower," you called from the other side of the room. Bucky grunted, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel your eyes on him.

"Just talk to her. I know what you're gonna say, she deserves better than a jerk like you. But she doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."

Bucky shrugged, forgetting that Steve couldn't see him. He heard the bathroom door click shut and his forehead dropped against the window.

"You don't get it, Steve. She's different. I can't control myself around her. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Steve sighs and says something else but Bucky barely hears it over the sound of running water and your clothes hitting the floor. 

"Bucky, you there?"

Shit.

"Sorry, I should...I gotta go."

"She likes you too, idiot." A part of him knew but hearing it out loud felt surreal. "I got the same senses you do. Better even," Bucky shakes his head at Steve's teasing, "I can hear her pulse pick up when she looks at you, how her breathing changes. How she sits close to you, touches you whenever she can."

Bucky shivers thinking of your hands on him, pulling him into your shower with you, letting him get close enough to touch you the way he's dying to touch you.

"And you know I can smell how wet she gets when y-"

"Watch it, Rogers," Bucky snaps with a growl in his throat.

"Then get your shit together, Barnes! She wants you too, you're not gonna scare her off."

Bucky wants to tell Steve he doesn't have any idea what he's talking about when he hears what sounds like crying coming from the bathroom. 

"Alright, if you're done playing matchmaker I gotta go."

Bucky hangs up before Steve can say another word and tosses his phone on the bed. Before he can think better of it his boots are off and he's pulling his shirt up and over his head. His heart is being torn to shreds with every sob that shudders through thin walls and he has the sinking feeling that it's all his fault.

-----

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but you feel the rush of cool air hitting your back. Before you can wipe away your tears and yell at Bucky for coming in before you were finished, he's right there. His hands grip your waist and turn you around.

"Bucky.

"Shh, I've got you."

He pulls you in, crushing you to his bare chest in a fierce hug. You don't know what's happening or why but he's here. Finally he's here and you're not gonna do a thing to stop it.

Your face is still wet with tears when he kisses you, consumes you, more like. His lips, teeth, tongue invading your mouth and begging you to open up and let him take all of you. You're shaking when he lets you go long enough to breathe, but his hands don't let you go, only wrapping around tighter and lifting you up against his broad chest when he feels your legs go weak.

It's everything you've every dreamed of, there's no way it's real. He's naked for fuck's sake. You can see his discarded jeans on the floor by the door, feel the evidence of his nudity pressing long and thick against your thigh.

His lips work down the length of your neck, down your chest, to suck a puckered, soapy nipple into his mouth. He's looking up at you with those murky blue eyes and your mind goes blank. You don't care why he chose now of all times to see you, to touch you, as long as he doesn't stop, as long as he keeps sucking and licking and biting you just like that. And you really must've hit your head because, fuck, you're already this close to coming and that's never happened before.

Your thighs press together, searching for any kind of friction, as you tug on Bucky's hair. When you pull, his eyes roll back. He groans, the noise shooting straight to your pussy.

Still holding you up with one hand, Bucky bullies your thighs apart with the other, spreading you open and on your tip toes so he can slide his fingers over your cunt. Two thick digits slip between your folds and shove into your cunt. You gasp, writhing around his fingers. It's too much, you feel so fucking full you can barely stand it. But Bucky keeps working his fingers, scissoring them, spreading them deep as he pumps them in and out. Your nails scrape against his skin, scrambling across his broad shoulders to find purchase as he brings you careening fast over the edge until you're plummeting, screaming his name as you spasm around his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away and you watch, dazed and panting as he sucks them clean. The way he moans around his fingers nearly has you coming again.

"Bucky, please," you don't know what you're asking for but you don't care. You'll gladly take anything he gives you.

"Need more," he groans, his eyes glazed. "Can I have more, angel?"

You're nodding wildly as he sits you down on the shower bench. Hot water rains down on his back and he's lifting your feet up on the bench so he can keep you spread wide open. His big hands clamp down on your thighs and it would be almost painful if you weren't distracted by the way his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, oh my god," there wasn't any stopping your rambling, begging, pleading. It was too much, too good. Bucky's moans vibrated to your core. He feasted on you like you were his last meal, licking every drop of your juices, sucking each fold before fucking into you with his tongue.

You could think, talk, breathe. All you knew was Bucky's touch as he made you come again. Your legs shook and your back arched and it went on for what felt like forever, this mind blowing pleasure that you almost didn't feel worthy of. That he looked up at you as he cleaned you up with his tongue like you were everything to him in this moment made your eyes well up again for being so emotional.

A look of worry wrinkles Bucky's brow. 

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

With a shaky hand you brushed back an errant hair from his forehead and caressed his cheek. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just get emotional like this before, y'know..." You didn't want say it, especially not to a guy you liked right after he ate you out. It was hard to look at him still sitting there between your legs, your face feeling hotter by the second.

"You mean before your period?"

You sputtered and tried to close your legs. No way, there's no way you're talking about your period with your dream man with your legs spread open like he's your gyno.

"Don't hide from me," Bucky growled. You watched, your jaw dropping, as he nuzzled his nose into your mound at the apex of your sex and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.

"How did you know?"

"Your phone, you left it open at the gym." Bucky doesn't stop kissing your mound, your belly. It's like he's a cat and you're the catnip. "And I can smell it on you. Your scent changes, gets...deeper somehow. Like you're calling to me."

Suddenly he's lifting you up and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist with a shout of surprise. Bucky grabs one of the giant hotel towels on his way out of the bathroom, carrying you like it's nothing. It is for him, but it's jarring. You always forget that he's not just some guy. Like the fact that his enhanced senses don't just include hearing and sight. Of fucking course he can scent you like a bloodhound.

Bucky lays out the big, fluffy towel and drops you on it, watching with hunger in his eyes as you jiggle when your body bounces on the mattress. You want to cover yourself with your arms and squeeze your legs shut, but you hear his voice in your head. 

"Don't hide from me."

Bucky crawls on top of you, his thick arms and broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. It's just him and you and this bed. And between you his cock pushes thick and needy against your weeping cunt. His hips twitch as he kisses you, lightly rubbing the thick vein running down his cock through your folds.

"Please, Bucky," you whine against his lips.

His forehead rests against yours briefly before he sits back on his heels. Bucky's heavy-lidded gaze is hungry, staring at the way your cream coats his cock.

"Please don't tease me, Bucky," your plea comes out shaky and unsure. "I can't take it."

Bucky caresses your cheek, tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"If you let me in, I don't think I'll ever leave."

Your brows pinch, your heart hammers away in your throat. You get the feeling he doesn't just mean in the physical sense.

"I don't want you to leave."

Bucky's eyes shut and his jaw clenches and you reach for him. To take his face in your hands so you can pull him close and look into those beautiful blue eyes when he finally thrusts inside. And he lets you.

You hold him in your hands as his whole body shakes. You've never felt so full, so complete, but you need more. If only he'd move, you need him to move.

"Bucky-"

The growl that explodes from deep in Bucky's chest is the only warning you get before he pulls back, nearly all the way out, and slams back in. The force of it shoves the air from your lungs and you can scarcely catch your breath before he does it again and again, picking up pace until he's hammering into you, pounding you into the mattress. His groin grinds against your pelvis with every deep thrust, the thatch of hair there teasing your clit.

Bucky takes you by the throat, tenderly at first, saying, "Look at me. Don't look away, beautiful, keep those eyes open."

It's a struggle but those blue eyes ground you as your mind tries to float away. You don't know what sounds you're making, what you're even saying but Bucky shushes you, tells you he's got you, you're his.

"My pussy. Mine to fill up, right, beautiful? All mine."

You nod your head as best you can with his fingers on your jaw, babbling nonsense. He doesn't slow or stop, that super-soldier stamina helping him keep a brutal pace.

Bucky grabs your right thigh, turning it over so it's on top of your left and holding it there with the hand not on your throat. Your eyes roll back at the way the new position has him grinding against your inner walls. You thought you felt full before, but this is something else entirely.

Your hands fly up to Bucky's forearm, desperate for a part of him to hold on to as he looms over you, taking what belongs to him. His hand on the meat of your thigh tightens as he grunts and groans and you grip at the hand on your throat, silently begging for his gentle hold to tighten too.

His eyes soften, as he shifts his hand and squeezes. This man could end you right here, right now, with a twitch of his finger but he's looking at you like you're delicate, so fucking delicate and it doesn't make any sense. Your brain is fried, everything feels like too much and just right at the same time. Like you're meant to be here under him, full of him, taking everything he gives you.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Your legs shake under his grip and you feel yourself implode. His words ricochet around your head as you come, coating his cock, and the sheets, with your release.

Bucky's grip on your throat loosens and he collapses on top of you, capturing your lips with his, cradling his arms around you. His full weight on top of your twisted, bent body is a welcome pressure. You never want him to leave.

"Mine," he growls again. "Gotta fill you up, breed this sweet little cunt so everyone knows you're mine. I can't hold back anymore. Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Bucky," you cry, "all yours. Only yours."

Bucky lifts your right leg up over his shoulder, spreading you wide open. He brings his thick fingers down on your messy cunt with a wet slap and you cry out, shaking as you come again.

"That's it, beautiful. Milk me fucking dry."

Bucky's hips stutter and go still and he shouts, spilling inside you, filling you to the brim.

Bucky lets your leg fall from his shoulder and collapses on top of you. Before he can suffocate you, not that you'd mind, he rolls the two of you onto your side and holds you tight to his chest. You can feel his release slipping out, oozing down your thigh. There's so much, you don't even want to think about the clean up. Not now, not when it's so much easier to think about how good it feels to be here, in his arms.

"You're mine," Bucky whispers into your hair, taking a heavy breath, filling his lungs with your scent. 

"All yours," you smile, your cheek pressing against his solid chest.

"I mean it. Not just here, not just tonight. I want to make you mine, angel."

Bucky sounds so serious it almost worries you. You turn your head where it rests on his bicep, trying to not get distracted by how big it is. Those blue eyes of his are soft but searching your face, like he needs you to understand, to know that he means it.

"I want that, Bucky. I want it so bad."

Your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you loud and clear, can hear the desperation in his voice mirrored back in yours.

His big hands roam your body, caressing your breast, your hips, like he wants to touch you everywhere all at once. You help him settle on a place by lifting your leg and curling it over his hip. You can see it on Bucky's face, how much he needs you. The way your combined scents make his nostrils flare, the tightening of his jaw. His fingers leave your hip and delve between the juncture of your thighs, a groan rumbling through his chest.

"Bucky," you pant as his fingers play in the mess he made, slipping in and out of your cunt.

He kisses your forehead, continuing to work you open once again.

"Need to have you again, angel." Bucky doesn't wait for you to respond before he's guiding himself in til you're full to bursting. "Gotta keep you stuffed full, baby."

You shudder at his words, his hands roaming your body.

"I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

---

--

-

🖤

[parisoonic]

I'm in love with how you draw characters (especially when you draw sniperscout and demoman in general), I'm unsure if you've answered a question like this before, but how do you figure out what to do with face shapes? It's hard to explain but the way you over-exaggerate certain features to make their design pop is so cool to me and I've never been able to do it for myself. That, and making faces look like.. well, faces.

thank you so much!!! hopefully i'm understanding you right...

Regarding the face shapes in TF2...we're all standing on the shoulders of the (excellent) design work already done and laid out. The characters have really nice distinct face shapes with some general overlap before you even consider that a lot of them have facial accessories which you can pick and choose from to help push facial silhouettes and peel apart characters that are a little similar.

Naff threshold filter heads to show silhouettes lol In order to exaggerate them - it's mainly about pushing and pulling the existing proportions and ratios of their faces IE: Making Medic's/Soldier's/Heavy's stupid large-chins even longer but sacrificing some of their forehead or eye-region. Varied proportions have a lot of 'rhythm' or 'appeal' and typically the human face can break down into the forehead (+ hair), eyes (I like to do a Batman style mask but people will often use the nose to form a triangle too) and then....everything else (chin, cheek etc).

Soldier, Heavy and Sniper all have REALLY similar proportional ratios but their silhouettes are really different (in both the x and z). When you add in that the 'default' way to view Soldier and Sniper is with their accessories they're all really nice and different. Funnily enough Sniper's 'eye mask' is teeny tiny with his visors off but this relationship changes with his sunglasses on. Kinda interesting... I sometimes like to think of visual vibe-based 'archetypes' when i'm drawing the tf2 guys. I don't have one for everyone yet but Heavy is sort of like 'handsome caveman' to me. Archetypally, cavemen are drawn with thick brows, small low foreheads and big chins. The 'handsome'-ness comes in when you apply a delicate approach to eyes, cheekbones, lips and with careful posing. Having this kind of visual-archetype in mind informs how I view the character as a whole and thus how i depict them! HOPEFULLY even if I drift away from how they actually look because the vibes are right...it feels right you know? There's also a sliding scale to me as to HOW you represent them. If the character is doing something goofy/stupid, drawing them less handsome and toonier can add levity. Obviouslyyyy you can have your handsome depictions making a dick joke (and that's its own sort of visual gag) but you'll notice in a lot of my images the straight-man gets drawn a little more...realistic? on-model? than the butt of the joke. It just feels more appropriate to me haha I'm using 'toonier' here to mean not only am I drawing fewer details but also exaggerating those ratios between areas of the face away from their 'default' ratio. like with most drawing-y things it's practice AND experimentation! i draw these guys differently depending on my mood and how generous i'm feeling towards their looks lol if you wanted tips on the construction of faces I really recommend checking out Griz and Norm's 'Tuesday Tips'. They're incredibly clear, concise and very approachable (and cover a variety of subjects!) Hopefully this link works? but if you search them on Pinterest and grab a cuppa, there's some AMAZING tips to be had here: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/search/pins/?q=griz%20and%20norm&rs=typed

[the1975attheirverybest]

Queen of hearts

Acknowledgements and Disclaimers: this one goes out to all the moms out there. New moms. Experienced moms. Mom-to be. Yall are heroes man. All the love.

Shout out to the mutual who helped answer my pregnancy questions. Thanks for letting me pester you. You know who you are. Any mischaracterizations of pregnancy, labor, or postpartum are completely my own.

Warnings: brief depictions of labor. Mentions of depression. Also not proof read.

***

9 months had flown by like a dream. The whole thing had felt like a movie. And Matty, having made a career out of making life feel like a movie, was wary of the whole thing. Of course they’d had their ups and downs. Worrying over what constitutes a good parent and whether they were going to fuck this child up before it even had a chance to grow up and make its own mistakes. The occasional shock over how powerful and real hormone fluctuations can be. The Braxton Hicks scare. The late night cravings and the crying (some of which was done by him, if he’s being honest). Arguing over baby names, if the kid should be allowed to play football before a certain age lest they get injured. If, being the child of artists meant that the child would be sign up for music and art lessons, or if they would wait and see what the kid naturally gravitates towards. If gender-neutral clothing was inherently boring and lifeless, or, if it was ‘too woke’ to have a baby girl in a car onesie or a baby boy is a butterfly onesie. It was, after all, a pregnancy, not a walk in the park. But he’d loved and welcomed every bit of it. And so had Jo. He’d swelled with joy watching her nest and acquire baby clothes, paint the nursery, and start a vintage stuffie collection. He’d helped her curate a little library of children’s books for kids of all ages, to make sure their baby would be guaranteed a great start, no matter how advanced they turned out to be (Jo and Matty, were, of course, convinced that their child would be a genius). Looking back, even the labor and delivery process seemed perfect.

Jo had screamed at him the whole day.

“We can’t actually go to the hospital just yet. I called. The front desk woman told me to stay put and put on some yoga music.”

Jo had unleashed a string of obscenities upon him that he has chosen to omit from memory ( he remembers them perfectly. She had asked him if he was a demented fucker or if he would like this baby to come out or a teeny tiny hole in his penis instead). He had laughed, told her that she was funny and that he was falling in love with her all over again. She’d thrown the tv remote at his head, missing narrowly.

His gravest mistake, however, was trying to document everything. He’d brought a film camera into the delivery room, which the nurses had balked at. But Matty has been used to being called eccentric so he didn’t care. He wanted to remember every single moment of this day forever. And, when Jo had failed to convince him by making the same arguments that he often proposed at his own shows, for his own fans to put the camera away and just be in the moment, she’d decided to teach him an lesson by choosing not to warn him about the messiness of childbirth. The next thing she heard him say was “oh. So much blood.” Before he’d dropped the godforsaken camera to the floor, smashing it to bits. And ridding everyone of its evils forever.

“Oh my god, she’s here, Jo! I can see her head!” He’d rushed over to her, with tears in his eyes, squeezing her hand. “C’mon, Jo. You’ve got this! One more push.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. It’s too much. I just- she’s gonna have to stay in there forever.”

“‘fraid we can’t do that, Josephine” the doctor shook her head. “She’s almost out which means it’s tight on her now, if you don’t push, you’re hurting her.”

Jo instantly burst into tears.

“No, no, no! Baby don’t cry!” Matty cooed, then turned towards the doctor. “Why the fuck would you say something like that to her? Right now, as well! are you TRYING to upset my wife right in the middle of the birth of my child?” He hovered over Jo protectively, wiping her sweaty forehead with one of the rags that the nurses had brought in, and kissing her. “You’re okay, Jo. Our baby is going to be okay. Deep breaths, yeah?”

“You promise?” She whispered, too embarrassed for the nurses and doctor to hear.

Matty swears, this, was the moment that he became a dad. Knowing that his wife and child needed him to be the sane and steady one for the first time completely changed him as a person.

Though he had no business making these promises, he’d never felt more certain of anything in his life. “I promise, my love. I’ve got you. And you’ve got our baby. She really needs you right now. So….lets do this, yeah?”

Jo nodded, watching the nurse approach and take her hand to pull her back into position.

“C’mon,love. One more push?” The matronly lady encouraged.

Jo screamed as she gave it her all, Matty’s hand in hers.

“Great! You’re doing great, Josephine! Give me one more push!” The doctor smiled.

“You said that last time! Every single time you say this is gonna be the last push! You’re fuckin lying.”

With tears in her eyes, Jo screamed and cussed out everyone in the room, pushing with all her might, until finally, the baby was out. She heard cheering and congratulations erupt around the room which was her cue to lay back and finally relax.

“Dad, Would you like to do the honors? cut the umbilical cord?” The nurse had asked.

“Oh? I- erm I …should. But I don’t wanna leave you? But also I don’t wanna leave…her- I….” Years later, Matty would realize that it was, in fact, this moment, that had made him into a dad. The moment that he felt conflict between choosing to stay by Jo’s side and hold her hand through what she had just accomplished , or let go of her hand to go meet his daughter instead.

“Go, Matty, go.” Jo had encouraged him, her voice weak from screaming. She nodded as he hesitantly loosened his hold on her hand.

“Let’s fuckin do this!” His shaky hands took the surgical scissors from the doctor and made the cut. “Oh my fuckin god, hiiii” matty cried as he met his daughter for the first time. He almost reached out to take her into his arms but, then, realized that it should be Jo who gets to hold her first.

“Would you like to-“

“Yes, oh god, yes, please?” Jo sat up straight.

Matty, with fresh tears still running down his cheeks, leapt into action adjusting her pillows to support her back as she leaned forward to receive her child.

“Oh god, Matty, look. She’s so….”

“Perfect.”

Everything, about Sophia, from conception to birth, had been perfect. So, it was a complete shock to Matty (and to Jo) when things changed postpartum.

It all started with Jo sleeping in a bit more than usual. At first, Matty had written it off as her body recovering from labor. After all, she’d literally housed, sheltered, and built a human being from scratch for 9 months. She was entitled to a little bit of extra sleep if that’s what she needed. Besides, he saw this as his opportunity to step in. While Jo was pregnant, Matty felt limited in how much help he could be. He flew back and forth in between tour dates to be at doctors appointments, and to help purchase the crib and pick out the nursery colors. He drove across the country to make it to specialty bakeries and shops to fulfill the strange flavor combinations of pregnancy cravings. But none of it was comparable to literally being pregnant. So, it was only fair that he take on some of the work now that the child was born, and let Jo get her rest.

He wanted to be the best dad he possibly could. So, he dove in head first. And he missed the signs. It wasn’t until he was holding Sophia in his arms, looking at Jo, as she laid in bed, saying “it’s a baby, Matty. All it does is cry and sleep. What does it want from me?” That he realized something was deeply wrong. By then, it was too late.

Matty walked around the messy house, eyes blood shot and sore. Whether it was the crying or the lack of sleep, he wasn’t sure. He went into the kitchen, pulling out a massive trash bag and hauling in all the empty takeout containers that had been sitting there all week, shoving them all into the trash bag. He needed to step up his housekeeping game. At this rate, they’ll be living in squalor by the next few days.

He pulled the only clean mug left out of the cupboard and reached for the coffee machine that had been on since this morning, pouring himself a cup.

“Fuckin hell.” He whispered at nothing in particular. What time was it? What day of week or month even was it? He tapped his phone screen for answers. It was a Wednesday in the middle of the month. Just shy of noon. He knew that the best thing he could possibly do for his family right now would be to admit that he’s in over his head. And ask for help.

***

“Where is she now?” Adam asked, stirring the sugar into Matty’s tea before placing the mug in front of him.

“home. Erm….the cleaning service is working on the house. Her mom is there, too, to watch Sophia while she showers and stuff, so….”

Adam nodded, at a loss for words. He squeezed Matty’s shoulder gently.

“What do I do? How do I fix this?” Matty’s eyes darted between Adam and Carly, who wizzed around the kitchen, preparing dinner, with her son at her feet.

“You can’t fix it, mate.” Adam shrugged. Sheepishly.

“I know; I know. But- what do I do?”

Adam simply rubbed his friends back, searching his brain for any words of solace or wisdom.

“Matty, have you eaten anything today?” Carly asked, with her back to him, standing at the stove and stirring something that Matty couldn’t quite see.

He was offended by the question. He’d come to her with the biggest problem he’s ever had to face and her response was to ask if he was hungry? Speechless and indignant, he shook his head. “I have not. No.” He gritted, anger palpable in his voice.

Carly knew better than to take it personally.

***

Carly and Adam exchanged a look. Adam nodded, rising to his feet and taking his child from between his mother’s legs. “C’mon, little man. It’s time for bed. Let’s get into the bath. Give mummy and uncle Matty a bit of time to chat.”

Carly walked over to Matty at the dining table, setting down two huge containers in front of him. “This one’s soup. This one’s chicken and veg. Take them home. Freeze the leftovers and defrost as needed.”

“Carly, I-“

“Comfort food is good. For both of you.” She smiled brightly. “She won’t have an appetite but keep offering it to her anyway.”

“Right.”

“I’m gonna send you a list. Maybe pop into the shops on your way home and buy some of it. Baby cream, nipple pads, stuff like that.”

Matty nodded, dutifully.

“I’ll speak to Patricia and Charli and everybody. We’ll start a rotation. Check in on her and- maybe even send you off to the store a few times. There are just some girl things that she might not have on. Just some bits and bobs to make her life easier.”

“Hmm. Yeah. I suppose.”

“Matty, darling, you know who you need to speak to here. Who she needs to speak to. And it isn’t me, and it isn’t Adam, or George, or Ross, or even a doctor who will rattle off some statistics at her. Why haven’t you done it yet?”

***

Carly was right. Matty knew the person for the job. The reason that he hadn’t called his mom yet was because he was ashamed. Ashamed to admit, in front of her, that he had failed. He’d failed his wife. Failed his kid. Failed to do what he claimed his mother’s struggle had taught him. Failed to be patient, failed to be empathetic. He expected too much from her and he resented her when she wouldn’t rise to it. And he hated that about himself.

But his mom was always there. All he needed to do was call her and say “mum, I need you.”

Denise rushed over.

“Oh, matty, it’s okay.” She placed her hand over his. “It’s different when it’s your partner, isn’t it?”

“Why, though? It shouldn’t be! It’s not like she’s any more or less of a person, a woman, or a mother than you were when you had me!”

Denise rolled her eyes. They both knew Matty was smarter than this. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter, does it? You were 17 when I told you about my depression. It had been 17 years. You’d seen me differently. And you knew I loved you because you’d felt it your whole life. You were only finding out about that stuff after the fact. This is not the same. Besides, the way that you feel about your partner is not supposed to be like the way that you feel about your mother, or if it is then I haven’t done my job raising you right.”

Matty frowned and licked his lips, searching his brain for a clever comeback.

“You feel like you’ve been abandoned. Like she’s left all the parenting on you and you’re trying your best but she’s not giving you much to work with.” Denise simply stated.

Matty laughed in disbelief. “That’s absurd. She hasn’t abandoned me.”

“Course, she hasn’t. She’s got an illness, she’s not a bad mother. But that’s what it feels like. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. You’re a new father too. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing and you want to be able to do turn to her but you can’t.”

“I- “ matty turned tongue-tied. Unsure how to respond. It made him uncomfortable to have his unspoken thoughts said out loud for him. “did dad ever…?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. I didn’t really speak much to him at the time. Sort of….blamed him for it, actually. A part of me felt like, somehow, he had done this to me or something.”

Matty listened, wondering if Jo felt that way about him.

“In fact, why don’t you go do that right now. Call him round. I’ll get upstairs and check on Jo.”

***

Tim left Matty flipping through old photo albums and went to answer the door, smiling wide and proud when he was met with Louis at his brothers doorstep. “You’re joining the crew?”

“You didn’t think you’d have a party without me and I wouldn’t find out about it, did ya?” Louis winked. “Nah, mum called. Said to come to Matty’s instantly.”

“Get in there!” Denise appeared behind them. “And don’t call it a party that’s insensitive.”

She shut the door, beckoning both men to huddle in the corner with her.

“We’re all here for one thing and one thing only.” Denise spoke with the command of a military officer issuing orders . “To watch the baby for the next two days. We work in shifts. Louis, you’re young and still have your back. You’ll take the overnight shift. Tim you start now. I’ll step in between you two.”

The two men exchanged a smile, nodding.

“And if you want to be here off the clock, you are not a houseguest. You don’t just sit sound and expect to be catered to. Consider yourself a contributing member of the household. Roll up your sleeves and see what needs doing around here. Let’s give them some time and room to figure out what Jo needs.”

***

Matty felt his heart shatter into a million pieces inside his chest when he walked into their bedroom and saw Jo, hugging the duvet, with tears in her eyes.

He rushed over to her, but as he reached for her hand, he recalled all the times that he’d tried to initiate any form of physical intimacy over the last few weeks —a hug, a cuddle, a kiss, sex— only for her to turn him down. He pulled away, hesitant, and not wanting to pressure her into anything. He wasn’t sure if these attempts were his way of trying to comfort her or if it was himself who needed the comforting. He would never think that he could possibly understand what she was going through, but, he couldn’t deny that he needed her, too. So much so that he was certain a simple touch from her would bring him to his knees.

“Jo, Darling,” he whispered, “fuck. You have no idea how much I wish I could kiss you right now.“

Jo blushed as if it were the first time that he had ever looked at her that way.

“Your mom- Denise, she…well, she and I talked. I don’t think I’m okay, Matty.”

He sat on the bed, looking at her. She was a shell of the person that he’d fallen in love with. “It’s alright, baby-“

“How can it be alright? I’m a mother! I- I’m a danger to my own child. When I should be her first and fiercest protector!” Jo yelled, sobbing into her own hands.

The sound of her crying was worse than a knife to Matty’s chest.

“Well, it’s a good thing she’s got me, then, isn’t it?” Matty pulled her into his lap, laying her head against him.

“I love her…” Jo tried to convince herself of her own words “ I want to love her.”

“Course, you do, Jo. You’re just not able to feel much of anything right now. Because of what you’re going through. But, we’ll fix it. I promise. We will.” He planted a kiss to her head “I’m sorry, honey. I’m really sorry I let it get this bad.”

“Matty, it’s not your fault-“

“No, it is. I- I thought that I was being a good dad by prioritizing Sophia over you. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I thought it was what was best for us all.” She felt Matty’s tears dripping down onto her hair. “But it’s you, Jo. You’re what’s best for all three of us. Sophia and I need you. We’re nothing without you.”

Jo wished she had the will or capacity to comfort him, to want to hold her daughter in her arms. She knew it must be difficult on him, and she hated being a source of his pain.

“I’m sorry, Matty-“

“No!” She felt him stiffen. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? You’re not alone. Neither are Sophia and I. Look how many people it took to get us to talk” he giggled at the thought. “Look how many people love you and want to support you.”

He saw the beginnings of a smile on her face. “Carly has practically started a catering business trying to feed us. You should see our kitchen. It’s never been this stocked up even when we’re both at home.”

Jo let out a small chuckle, the first since Sophia was born.

To Matty, that small sound was like finding water in the middle of wandering the desert.

***

Matty walked up and down room at the pace that he had discovered was most comfortable for baby Sophia to nap. He rocked her gently in his arms whispering, “you’re gonna be a sweet quiet girl yeah? Look at mommy. She’s so pretty when she’s asleep next to your crib, don’t you think, Soph? You take after her, that’s for certain. Let’s go get mommy a blanket, yeah? Shall we? Look at you! Taking care of mommy already. Bestest baby in the world, you are.”

[deobienthusiast]

the phantom thief | syj

• pairing: son youngjae (the boyz) x reader

• word count: 5.4k words

• genre: fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst if you SQUINT, jumanji!au, video game character!eric, strangers to lovers!au

• rating: PG

• warnings: some curse words, some sad eric, some sad reader

• notes: this is going to be similar to jumanji. not the same story line but you know, getting sucked into a game and having to complete it to find your way out

• tagging: @deoboyznet! ALSO THANK YOU TO ERIC’s SOULMATE @sohnric and @juyeonszn FOR BOTH BETA READING FOR ME AND REASSURING ME THAT IT WAS ACTUALLY GOOD ! LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH🥹🥹🥹 AND BANNER BY @itsmeas 🤍🤍🤍🤍

You felt yourself groan for what had to have been the millionth time. It was the last few days of summer break, the last few days of freedom, and you were stuck in a small town to sit at an arcade all day with your family. Don’t get it twisted. You loved your family, but you would have rather spent the last few days of summer break with friends, not babysitting your brother and his annoying friends. Your mother was with you, but her head was in a different place. She was too engrossed in the facebook drama on her phone to even bother watching him.

When she heard you groan, she brought her phone down. Laying it on the table, she reached into her purse and pulled out some loose change.

Handing it to you, she spoke. “Go find something to do. I’ll watch them.”

You look at the quarters in your hand as you roll your eyes. What could you possibly find to do with a roll of quarters? Heading towards the game area, you dipped and dodged the annoying little kids that were running around as you eyed the different types of games.

Air Hockey? Ew. Pac-man? Old. All the games were boring you. Continuing to walk around the different games, you noticed a cracked door. You looked around at everyone. They were mainly distracted by all the kids running around. Parents keeping kids from breaking games, and workers wiping pizza grease and sticky soda off the joysticks and screens of games.

You took the opportunity to head for the door, slipping past it and shutting it behind you before stopping. In the back of the almost empty room was a dark, dusty game. It was built like the pac-man game, but hidden towards the back of the room. You noticed the plug laying on the ground as you reached for it, sticking it into the outlet. The room lit up in purples, teals, and greens as the machine came to life.

A small smile made its way to your face as you let your hands graze the old machine. The buttons were chipped, paint peeling, pictures faded, and the screen had a crack in it at the very top corner. The title popped across the screen in bright colorful letters as you read it outloud.

“The Phantom Thief.” You said.

The room was quiet besides the music that was softly resonating from the machine under your hands. A black box popped up on screen as it gave you a background story.

“Wayward within the kingdom lives a crooked worker of the royal family. He strikes at night, and he has earned the nickname the phantom thief. Help the thief steal the King’s prized possession, his royal pendant crown. Or help the guards catch the thief. Try to attempt it in the fastest time possible? Which fate will you choose?” You read quietly.

Looking behind you, you checked the door quickly before taking off the jacket you were wearing. You stick your jacket on the floor, covering the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor before getting up and walking back over to the game. You clicked on the phantom thief character before taking another quick look around the empty room. You turned back around to stare at the screen, the colorful background mesmerizing, as your hand hovered over the start button. You let your fingers run over the worn out button as it lit up, making your fingers jolt.

You jumped at the feeling. A laugh blew past your lips as you pushed the button. The game practically came to life as you watched your hand disappear right before your eyes. The scream you let out reverberated farther than you thought as the room went black.

It suddenly felt very cold, too cold to be air conditioning as you stand. You felt a burning sensation on your face as you brought your hand up to rub. You felt fresh scratch marks as you looked around. The bare trees rattled you as you took in your surroundings. The area was quiet as called out.

“Hello?” You said loudly.

The sound of your voice disappeared in the night as you squinted slightly. How did you get outside? Where was the arcade? Where was your brother? And damn it, why the hell did you take your coat off? You started to walk, hugging yourself to keep warm, as you looked at all the trees. You felt like you were stuck in a forest as you walked.

When you passed the same tree for what seemed like the third time, you let out a whimper.

“Keep walking.” You heard from behind you as you went to scream.

The voice you heard wrapped a hand around your head, covering your mouth as he spoke.

“Don’t scream! Don’t scream or they will find us.” The voice said.

You got pulled behind a ledge as you heard yelling in the distance.

“Search the perimeter! They are around here somewhere!” Another voice said.

A trotting sound grew closer than distanced itself as you heard it multiple times. When it was quiet, you turned around to face a mischievous smile. He pulled his hand away from your mouth as you opened yours again.

He panicked, speaking quickly. “Please don’t scream!”

“Who are you?” You asked softly.

“I’m Eric. I’m the character you picked.” He told you happily.

Shaking your head, you spoke. “What? What character?”

Eric snickered. “From the game, silly! The Phantom Thief.”

He pointed at himself, his mischievous grin growing like the Cheshire cats. “That’s me.”

“Wait, character? I-,I’m in the game.” You asked him.

He nodded. His face was visible to you in the darkness. “Yes ma’am.”

You smiled slightly at his tone. “How do you know you’re a game character?”

Eric laughed. “Oh yeah! I guess you could say you aren’t the only person to visit us. A lot meet me on the other side though.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you say up. “What do you mean on the other side?”

The boy shrugged. “People never choose me. It’s always the King’s men. I don’t understand why.”

He started to pout. “It’s not like I’m a bad person. They just like to be on the side of justice for some reason.”

You couldn’t help but breathlessly laugh at his statement. “Maybe it’s because people don’t want to get in trouble.”

“But that’s the fun part! The risk! Knowing that you could get in trouble is only half of it. It’s the thrill of the run.” Eric said before stopping. “Now, we need to get a move on. They’ve widened their search, leaving the castle exposed.”

He took a peek from behind the ledge before standing up. Reaching down for your hand, he gently pulled you up as he took off. You stumbled slightly, having trouble keeping up with all of his endless energy as he whipped and whirled his way through the array of trees. You could see two lights becoming more prominent as he continued to pull you.

As the lights got closer, you heard galloping as you yanked Eric as hard as you could. He jolted backwards before being pulled into a pile of leaves, surrounded by a whole bunch of trees. Eric went to speak as you covered his mouth.

“How am I the newbie, and you are almost about to get caught?” You asked.

You could feel Eric’s grin burning into your hand as he spoke. “Good choice. Most people choose to keep running.”

You felt goosebumps arise as you pulled away from him. “You knew this would happen?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know which decision you would make, but I knew the first decision was coming up. I told you. I’m a part of the game, remember?”

Eric sat up, prompting you to move off of him as he stood up, dusting himself off. “There will be quite a few decisions that will be left up to you to make. Choose wisely, and you’ll be able to steal the crown.”

The statement he gave you made you shudder as it sounded too much like a computer given answer rather than his own statement.

“Right, well. We should keep moving.” You told the boy, making him nod.

He peeked out from the pile you both had fallen into as he motioned for you to follow him. He kept the both of you hidden from the lights as he followed the pathway towards the castle.

“In the introduction, it says you work for the royal family.” You said softly.

Eric chuckled, looking back at you to give you a grin. “Aren’t I just the worst?”

You giggled as you both continued to walk. You were surprised at how easily you were moving through before Eric stopped.

He looked at you expectantly, almost waiting for you to do something as you gave him a look.

“What?”

“What do we do now?”

You scoffed. “You’re the one who does this for a living. You tell me.”

Eric shook his head. “That’s not how games work. Characters do what you want them to do.”

Not understanding, you looked forward and noticed a gate.

“A gate? What do we need to unlock it?” You asked.

Eric shrugged. “You tell me? Unlocking would risk wasting time and getting caught. The gate, however, is quite old. That means that trying to jump would risk making a lot of noise.”

“Well jumping it is what we’ll have to do because I don’t have anything to pick the lock with.” You told the boy.

He looked you up and down before taking a step towards you. Your eyes widened as he leaned into you, his nose inches from yours as he spoke.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

Your eyes drifted upwards, following to where his index finger was pointed and you let your hand drift upwards. Your hand ran over your hair before feeling something.

“My goodness, Eric, you're a genius!” You said happily.

The boy scrunched up his face in confusion as you pulled the bobby pin that was in your hair out of your head. Grabbing his hand, you pulled the boy towards the gate, opening the bobby pin in the process.

“Um, you still never told me what it is.” Eric said softly as he watched you mess with the lock on the gate.

“It’s a bobby pin.” You told him quietly.

He watched you mess with the lock, sticking the foreign object in it and wiggling it around.

“What is a bobby pin?” Eric asked.

You felt yourself laugh as you spoke. “A very helpful tool for people with hair that doesn’t want to cooperate.”

Eric leaned over slightly to get a better look at it as he spoke again. “It looks dangerous.”

You shrugged. “Ehh. Depends.”

You heard a click as you smiled at Eric victoriously. His eyes widened as you slowly pushed the gate open. It creaked slightly, making you stop with a wince before continuing. The gate was opened enough for the both of you to slip in as Eric closed it behind him.

You put the bobby pin back in your hair as Eric looked at you.

“What?”

“You’re the first person to choose picking the lock. It’s the easiest one and the percentage of getting the crown is higher when you pick it.” Eric said in awe.

“Don’t seem so surprised. It’s not the first time I’ve picked a lock.” You told the boy.

You picked back up, walking up the walkway of the castle as you looked over the large building. It was sort of old, but still very extravagant. Decorated to the nines with beautiful sculptures and busts. Beautiful bushels of flowers surrounded both sides of the lane way.

“Pansies.” Eric told you as you looked at them.

The colors almost sparkled under the moonlight as you spoke.

“Shouldn’t they be dead? I mean, it’s kind of freezing out here.” You said quietly.

This caught Eric’s attention as he took off the jacket he was wearing, wrapping it around your body. You felt your cheeks heat up as Eric continued on like he didn’t just do something to make you embarrassed.

“That’s why they picked this flower. They are able to survive the harshest of winters. Though I have to admit, this winter has been particularly cold.” Eric said.

You chuckled. “Funny, because outside the game, in the real world, the summer has been insanely hot. We’ve hit record-breaking temperatures.”

Eric smiled. “Maybe that’s why it’s been so cold.”

You smiled with him as you both continued to walk the pathway. The castle doors were drawing closer as you spoke again.

“This seems too easy.” You said.

“What does?”

“Just walking up the pathway to the castle. Am I about to just walk right through the doors?” You asked him.

Eric went to speak before you heard yelling.

“Check the castle ground, and make sure they didn’t break in!” Someone said as your eyes widened.

You looked at Eric who looked too calm in this situation as he spoke.

“You have your choice of the library window or the garden house. Though I will admit, there is the guard dog.” Eric said.

“Where? In the garden house?”

Eric shrugged.

“The library?”

He shrugged again, making you groan. “Where is the dog Eric?”

Eric through his hands up as you whined before spotting the garden house, you pulled him along through the grass, dodging statues before opening the garden house doors. Eric watched you pulled his jacket off and tie the doors shut as he looked at you with a smile.

“Excellent choice.” He told you.

You narrowed your eyes at the boy, a scowl decorating your face as you turned to look around. Beautiful plants were growing up the walls. Flowers covered to protect them from the cold looked as if they were waving due to the wind. A singular pane of glass at the top of the garden house was broken, allowing full moonlight to filter into the building. This allowed you to get a much better look at Eric.

He was handsome, that’s for sure. His hair was a deep purple color, almost burgundy with slight black highlights spread throughout. Eric wasn’t the tallest, but he was well built with the average height he was at. He had full lips and a prominent nose. An almost oval shaped head held all his features, and it came to a sawed off point at his chin. You would be lying if you were to say you weren’t attracted to him. You chalked it out to a school girl crush due to the fact that his smile made you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach.

“So, what goes on out there? You know, in the real world.” Eric asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You both fell in stride as you made your way through the large garden house.

“Well it’s summer vacation right now. There’s like less than a week of it left, though.”

Eric’s nose scrunched up. “Summer vacation?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Like we have school from August to the first week of June. And then we have summer vacation until August. And then we repeat the whole cycle for the next 12 years.”

Eric looked at you, horrified. “That sounds awful. It sounds like a prison.”

You chuckled. “Something like that. You don’t have school here?”

Eric shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve only ever worked for the royal family.”

You nodded, remembering that he was just a character in a game. He didn’t know about any of this real world stuff.

“No one ever took the time to tell you about what goes on outside of here, have they?” You asked him quietly.

The thief shook his head. “Like I said, no one ever chooses me.”

His statement made you frown as your heart sank a little. He sounds so lonely.

You both continued on until you got to a cracked door at the front of the garden house. Eric held his hand up, stopping you as he took careful steps forward. His head poked outside the door, red hair blowing around in the wind as he looked around. When he was sure the coast was clear, he turned to you, holding out his hand with a nod. You let your hand fall into his as he led you back out into the night. You were now positioned towards the side of the castle as Eric pointed towards a staircase that led underground.

“Tunnels. We use them to deliver food, supplies, things like that. It’s safer than trying to do it in the open.” He told you.

“Too many thieves?” You asked jokingly.

Eric looked at you with a smirk. “Look who’s catching on.”

You both laughed as Eric continued to lead the way. You happened to notice that he was still holding your hand, showing no signs of letting it go. The sight made your heart jump as you held on tightly to him. When you got to the entrance of the staircase, Eric dropped your hand to grab a torch that was already lit. He led the way down the stairs, constantly looking behind him to not only check on you but make sure you weren’t tailed. The torch was the perfect light source for the both of you as you were able to only illuminate small portions of the tunnels as opposed to the entire tunnel. It felt like the temperature had dropped lower since you moved under the castle and you mentioned that to Eric.

“Is it normal for it to be even colder down here than it is above ground?”

You pulled the jacket Eric had given you tighter around your body as you waited for him to reply.

“There isn’t any heat to reach underground. So the tunnels always stay cold. It gets worse when it’s regularly cold out.” Eric whispered.

It felt the tunnels were never-ending before Eric stopped, the torch flame billowing in the wind slightly. He pointed to a wooden door as he looked at you.

“There.” He said softly, voice echoing off of the hollow walls of the underground tunnel.

You stepped forward as you looked at the door. “Is this where we enter?”

Eric shrugged. “That depends. This puts us at the far end of the castle which means we have to cover more ground indoors to get to the crown. If we continue to follow the tunnels then we’ll get closer to the King’s room. That holds all his most prized possessions, including the crown.”

You thought about what could be waiting for you if you went into the castle now, but being in a warm castle, unthawing seemed way better than freezing to death. Plus, you weren’t sure how much longer these tunnels were, and you weren’t willing to bet your life on it.

“Come on,” You waved to the boy as you gently pulled at the handle of the wood door.

Eric nodded, setting the torch in a holster on the wall next to the door. He pulled the door open more, stopping when it scraped against the gravel on the tunnel floor. He laid a hand on your lower back, slowly coaxing you forward first as he tried his best to quietly pull the door shut behind him. When the door closed, it echoed into the large empty room you had entered. You turned to give Eric a look as he shrunk down at your gaze.

“Sorry,” He whispered.

You shook your head slightly as you looked around, trying to see if you could figure out what room you were in. It was dark in the room. The moonlight coming through the window was reflecting off of multiple surfaces that looked shiny and almost metallic like.

“The kitchen.” You said to yourself.

Eric caught up to you and your cautious steps as he helped navigate you through the rather large kitchen.

“They barely use this.” He told you, noticing your curiosity in the appliances that looked brand new.

You scoffed. “Then why have a kitchen?”

Eric chuckled. “Something to look at.”

You turned to him as you smiled. He sounded so normal when he said that. Like he knew what he was saying, and wasn’t repeating what his character says. The glimpses of realness Eric was giving you made you happy. You wanted to know more, so you continued to press as you exited the large kitchen and into a hallway.

“How did you start working for this royal family?”

Eric shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just always been here.”

You frowned. “Do you have a favorite food?”

“I eat bread when my health gets low. Does that count?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was unreal how real he was in front of you, but how computerized he was on the inside. Eric didn’t seem to mind the questions nor was he bothered by his answers considering he barely got to move around anyway unless someone managed to play the game.

The hallway you two were in led down a long corridor to a split. You looked down both ways, seeing double doors down towards the end of the left side, and nothing but more hallway on the right side.

“Next choice.” Eric said softly.

You kept moving your head left and right, trying to figure out which way to go. Eventually you took the left path, looking back at Eric for confirmation. All he gave you was a smile as he let you lead the way. The walk to the double doors was short as you laid both hands on each door before pushing them open. The heavy wood stood still for a moment before peeling open, rather loudly. The moan of the doors opening reverberated off the empty walls making you cringe as you both walked in.

The room you were in was a bedroom. A large bed and dresser were up against the far wall with a large ceiling to floor window against the wall, showing the night sky. You had to admit the view was impeccable, but you didn’t get to enjoy it long. A faint growl made the hairs on the back of your neck stand as you and Eric both looked at each other.

“The guard dog?” You asked quietly.

Eric’s eyes were the size of saucer plates as he nodded.

You both turned slowly, coming face to face with a rather large dog that looked to be something out of a nightmare. Whoever the game creators were got the look of a scary guard dog correct. The dog looked similar to something out of Stephen King’s Cujo. With foam coming out of its mouth and dark, almost dead eyes, the dog looked like it was ready to rip apart anything and everything that stepped foot in the castle. You took a step back from the window as you looked at Eric.

The boy was making quick glances at the door as the dog took a step forward.

“Run!” Eric yelled.

Grabbing your hand, Eric practically dragged you out of the room and down the other hallway. The dog was hot on your trail, loud barking making more noise than you would've hoped. Lights began to turn on as the dog was now alerting the guards looking for Eric.

As you continued to run, you noticed a door that was just slightly ajar. You took the opportunity to yank on your arm, pulling Eric towards the door. The immediate redirection threw the dog for a loop as it couldn’t come to a complete stop with the speed it was hitting. You managed to make it in the room, both of you closing the door just in the knick of time. The dog hit the door hard. That didn’t seem to stop, but rather further piss him off as he started to jump at the door and scratch at it. You pulled a nearby chair towards you, pinning it under the door knob as you leaned against the door to catch your breath.

Adrenaline was pumping through you, your heart rate through the roof as you closed your eyes to try and calm yourself. You could see why Eric liked doing this so much. You weren’t scared by any means. Rather you were thrilled. The surge of fear had turned into excitement. You had so much energy that you wanted to do all of it again.

“Look!” Eric said excitedly.

You opened your eyes at his exclamation. You followed his gaze and felt a smile come to your face. There in the room was the King’s crown protected by a glass case. The small light shining down on the glass sent a sliver of light towards the pretty blue pendant jewel on the top of the King’s crown. The jewel reflected its own path of light, causing a blue marbled type shadow to cast itself across the wall. You moved from the door to the glass case, laying your hands on top of it.

There was a little lock on the case to keep the crown locked in. You knew the key was not in this room, and in your excitement panic started to set in. How were you supposed to get the crown?

You felt a hand in your hair that pulled you from your thoughts as the hand was now in your vision.

“Will this work?” Eric asked, holding the bobby pin you had previously picked the front gate with.

You smiled at the boy, taking the pin from him. Eric winked as you began to pick at the lock.

“They’re in here!” You heard from outside the door as you jumped from the yell.

Eric ran to the door putting weight on it to keep it closed as long as possible as you kept picking the lock. Frustration began to filter through you over the fact that you couldn’t get the lock picked. As your frustration bubbled over, a loud crash hit outside the door, sending Eric flying to the ground. You picked up the case, throwing the glass to the ground as it shattered around you. Eric picked himself up as he grabbed the crown. That mischievous look he had when he first told you about himself came back as he handed it to you.

You took the crown from him, looking over it as he pushed you towards the window. A large crack resonated through the room as you both jumped. One of the doors broke open, giving way to a bunch of guards as Eric quickly pushed the window open. You looked back at him, realizing he was going to give himself up so you could get free.

“Wait, Eric!” You yelled.

The boy continued to push you to the window. He helped you out of it as he spoke. “You have the crown. Get back to where I found you and you’ll win.”

You looked at him, grabbing his hand as he went to pull away. “What about you?”

The urgency in your voice made the boy smile, and he did something completely out of character. Eric leaned out the window to peck your cheek as he spoke.

“Don’t worry about me.”

He pulled his hand from yours as he gave you that signature smile. Lifting himself back into the window, he pushed you the rest of the way out before slamming it shut. You hit the ground with a grunt as you looked back up at the window. Eric mouthed to you as you stood.

“Go!”

You stood up, seeing the garden house in the distance as you ran in that direction. It sounded like the castle doors had opened as you fell into a full on sprint. When you got closer to the garden house you noticed the front gate, still unlocked from when you had previously entered. You looked back towards the window before letting your feet carry you to the gate. The sounds from the front doors of the castle were beginning to get louder, signaling to you that whoever was outside was getting closer. You slipped through the gate, running down the path. You continued to run until your legs couldn’t carry you anymore before stopping in front of the tree that you were certain was where you had fallen into the game from.

Placing your hands on your knees, you leaned down to catch your breath. Not knowing what to do next, you looked around hoping for some sort of exit.

“Come on! I beat the stupid game. See?” You lifted the crown up towards the sky, beginning to get angry.

“I did it. I beat it! What more do you want?” You yelled.

You kept the crown above your head, looking up at the dark sky that did nothing before lowering it. Dropping your head, you looked around once more before noticing a light coming towards you. There was no person behind it, just the light itself. Bringing your hands up to your eyes to shield yourself, you looked as best you could at the light. The room felt like it was shifting before you were pushed.

“Hey!” A voice said from behind you.

You’d recognize it anywhere as you stepped back.

“Mom’s been looking for you.” Your little brother told you.

Looking at him, you nodded as he rolled his eyes, heading out of the small room you were in. You watched him before looking down at your hands. You were in the arcade. In the back room. Your jacket was still on the floor, now covered in dirt and dust from being pushed around. You brought your attention back to the game. A little bubble screen had popped up.

“Congratulations! You helped the thief snatch the crown and evade the guards. Your time was five minutes and thirty-eight seconds. See how your time stacks up to other players.” You read.

The screen gave way to an option to look at the previous scores as you looked back at your time.

“Five minutes? I was only in there for five minutes? It felt so long.”

You moved your hands from the game as you headed for the door. Bending down to pick up your jacket, you looked back once more at the game before walking out.

It had been about a week since you pretty much entered a video game, and the more you played it over in your head the more it seemed like you just fell and hit your head really hard in that room. You knew you had to put it behind you with it being your first day of school, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Eric.

As you parked your car, your friend Sunwoo stood outside the school entrance with another boy. You couldn’t see his face, but you were sure you didn’t know him. He had purple hair with different pastel highlights colored throughout it. Sunwoo spotted you as he waved.

“There you are! Thought you might be late on the first day.”

You could only give the boy the finger as you got closer.

“I made a new friend! He’s new!” Sunwoo yelled.

As you got closer, the boy turned around and you dropped everything in your hands.

“Eric?” You asked.

The boy raised his eyebrows at you as he looked at you then Sunwoo.

“Uh, no. My name is Youngjae.” The boy said.

He was a spitting image of Eric, with the same tone of voice and cadence in the way he talked. Both boys walked down the steps to help you pick your things up.

“I, I’m sorry. You just look strangely like someone I met towards the end of the summer.” You told him.

He smiled at you, giving you a wink. “No problem.”

Sunwoo chuckled, noticing the looks you two were giving each other as he shook his head.

“And yet again, I’ll be third wheeling.” He said as he watched the two of you talk, almost as if you had known each other for a really long time.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

How You Get the Girl (Superstar Chapter 9)

I want you for worse or for better

I would wait for ever and ever

Broke your heart, I'll put it back together

I would wait for ever and ever

Roy and the Reader finally figure out what they want.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.8k words

Warnings: Language, teeny tiny angst at the start, lots of apologies, hard flirting & allusions to smutty activities, adults drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

Thanks for sticking with me through the angst! Hopefully this chapter makes up for it because I made myself giggle and blush from some of the fluff in this chapter 💖

~

Choosing a game day outfit had never been more stressful. Normally, it was quick work: jeans, Greyhounds sweater, comfy shoes, sometimes a cap on sunny days. But most game days didn’t follow a text from Roy Kent asking if we could talk. The first text he’d sent me after our breakup. Five little words that gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe- maybe­- we could fix things.

I hadn’t told anyone about the text; not Keeley, not Rebecca, not my girlfriends, not my mum. What if I was wrong? What if I’d totally misread everything at the ballet and in the car? What if Roy still totally hated my guts and was dating someone new- or worse, Brittany fucking Brett- and was doing the decent thing and telling me first before I saw it online?

But I couldn’t help but feel some non-Roy-related joy as I sorted through my worryingly obsessive amount of Richmond sweaters. Despite my personal anguish, there was something truly exciting happening: the Greyhounds were winning. And today’s match against Chelsea had the potential to do the impossible: put AFC Richmond in first place. There was still plenty of season to go, but everyone couldn’t help but feel hopeful going into this game and what it would mean for the rest of our season. Even with whatever was happening in my personal life, I couldn’t help but skip down to my car, humming “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

For the first time in weeks, I parked my car close to the building; in fact, I parked it right next to Roy’s big stupid car, the sight of which made my heart rate race just a bit faster, especially considering it was way earlier than his usual arrival time. I had to stop myself from rushing into the offices and looking too eager; but, as it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about how I appeared walking into my office. Roy wasn’t there.

Pretending that I wasn’t disappointed, I started on my game day routine, putting things where they belonged and making sure the gaffers would have everything they needed once they arrived. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Roy’s text.

The night before, after I’d read his text for the hundredth time, I’d responded with Yes, of course. I saw those three little dots and then… nothing. It had been a little off-putting, but I somewhat understood; it was Roy after all. He’d find me when he was ready.

“Oi, you busy?”

I turned and saw Jamie standing in the doorway, holding a little orange piece of paper in his hands. He had that bashful look he wore the night he brought me my box of stuff from Roy’s, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye this time.

“Me? Busy before a match? Never.” I grinned at him. “You’re here early. D’you need something?”

“We did this morning’s workout here because Roy said he had business to handle before the match.” He stepped forward and handed me the little piece of paper. “Told me to come give this to you. And to ask you to please go to your assigned seat as soon as possible.” He nodded to the little note I now held. “Then I’ve gotta go run for somethin’ like a thousand hours on the treadmill, but I think he was just jokin’ about that one.” He paused, clearly thinking. “I hope.”

I looked at Jamie quizzically, unable to resist chuckling at his equally confused expression. “Alright Jamie. Thanks for the message.”

Jamie gave me a small salute and sauntered off. As soon as he was gone, I looked carefully at the little orange sticky note in my hand. It simply read the number for a stadium seat. A bit puzzled, I grabbed my tablet- the one thing I was never without on game day- and strolled out of the office, briskly making my way to the stands.

As I walked through the empty seats, I spotted a lone figure in a dark shirt sitting exactly where I was headed. My heart skipped a beat as soon as I saw him, and I did my best to bite back a smile. No matter what this conversation held, I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see Roy.

“This seat taken?” I teased as I approached.

He grunted and nodded towards the seat next to him, his mouth twitching in the corner, the way it always did when he was fighting a smile. I sat down and looked out at the field; I’d sat out here many times before with my family or with my mates, seen this view many times before, but somehow the grass seemed greener, the red and blue seats seemed brighter, the white lines seemed crisper. Perhaps it was because Roy Kent wasn’t running down the pitch, but was instead next to me, looking as anxious as I felt.

“This isn’t too fucking dramatic, is it?” he asked with a scowl. “Sitting out here and all?”

I shrugged. “Just dramatic enough for my taste.”

“Hmmf.” He paused for a moment. “Did you enjoy the recital last night?”

I turned back to Roy, who was looking at me with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, um, yeah.” Not the question I was expecting. “Did you?”

He shrugged, his leg shaking a bit. “It was a bunch of eight-year-olds jumping around to instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs. It was fine.” He paused, his gaze shifting down. “But I liked that you were there,” he mumbled.

My eyes fell to my tablet as my finger traced the AFC on one of my stickers. “I… I liked being there too. It was nice to see Phoebe. And your sister.” I paused, letting my eyes flicker to Roy. “And you. Thanks for driving me home, by the way.”

“Couldn’t let you walk,” he grumbled, shifting slightly in his seat. He was silent after that.

I cleared my throat. “So, is that what you wanted to talk about? Phoebe’s ballet?”

“Fuck no,” he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist. “I wanted to talk about… well, you know…” He gestured between us. “This thing.”

“This thing,” I repeated with a slow nod. “You and me, you mean?”

He coughed. “Yeah. You and me.”

Clearly, I would have to be the one to get the ball rolling. “And what about you and me?”

Roy let out one of those giant sighs and looked up at the blue sky. “I fucking miss you,” he mumbled. “Even more than Oscar does.”

I didn’t hide my smile. “Well, I miss you fellas too,” I admitted. “Quite a bit actually.”

With an abruptness, Roy turned and faced me, his eyebrows knitted together. “Listen,” he said, his voice low. “I get now that you didn’t do anything wrong or on purpose, but I’m still really upset about that fucking article. It feels like shit to be talked about that way in print, which I’m sure you get now. Makes you feel like…. Like….” He tapped his fingers on his jiggling knee. “Like that fucking scene in Finding Nemo where the fucking braceface girl is tapping on the aquarium and the fish all freak the fuck out.”

“I guess you could say reporters are piranhas,” I joked, immediately understanding the feeling he was talking about.

My reference was rewarded with the sight of Roy’s mouth tugging upwards in the corners. “Exactly.” He folded his arms and slouched a bit. “But yeah. It fucking sucks. And the idea of trusting someone with all my secrets and knowing that at any moment all of that could be leaked is kind of…” He bobbled his head, his eyes on the sky. “Scary,” he finished in a low voice. “And it makes me feel… exposed.” He looked at me carefully, as if he dared me to laugh at the words coming out of his mouth. When I didn’t, he sighed and continued. “It’s not exactly a secret that I have a bit of a shit track record with the press and my love life.”

I couldn’t argue with that last point; I’d religiously followed his dating history over the years, a fact I suddenly felt embarrassed by. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roy,” I whispered, resisting the urge to grab his hand. “D’you trust me on that?”

Roy let out a deep, growling sigh. “I want to,” he admitted. “But when you’ve been fucked over as much as I have…” He shrugged. “Shit’s fucking hard.”

Knots appeared in my stomach. “Oh.”

As if he could read my mind, he reached over and grabbed my hand. He spoke quickly, as if he wanted to get his next words over with. “So, I’ve made an appointment with Doctor Sharon so I can start working through all that shit and be…” He closed his eyes and let out a deep, growling breath. “A better version of myself,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s really good, Roy,” I assured him, squeezing his hand. “I’m proud of you for taking care of yourself.”

He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at me. “I love you,” he said. Simple. Straightforward. Easy. “I really fucking love you. And I want to make sure that we can give each other what we need.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “What I need is someone I can trust. Someone who isn’t going to turn around and blab all my shit. Someone who’ll protect me.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you need?”

I paused. “Am I allowed to say you?”

The smallest smile graced his face. “No. But thank you.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Come on, tell me what you fucking need.”

“Hmm.” I thought for a moment, ignoring how wonderfully warm Roy’s hand felt in mine. “I need… I need to feel like I’m not something to be embarrassed by. Like I’m not some dirty secret.” I scrunched my face as my voice got small. “Like I’m not some little fangirl with a crush instead of a woman in a relationship. Like I don’t have to compete with models and actresses.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. I hear that.” He looked me in the eye intently and gave my hand a squeeze. “But just so you know, in my mind, you never have to compete with anyone, you hear?”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw that adoration return to the eyes I loved so much. “Alright,” I whispered. I looked down at our hands. “So… where does this leave us, Roy?”

With his free hand, Roy lifted my chin so I could look him in the eye. “We keep talking,” he said slowly. “We fucking tell each other what we want and need. We give each other our best, every fucking day. And we see how that goes.” He paused. “Is that alright? For now, I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s alright,” I breathed, giving his hand a squeeze. I cleared my throat, realizing that it was about time for the gates to start opening and for the team to get ready to warm up. “We should go get ready for the match, hmm?”

Roy nodded, standing and pulling me up with him, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re still coming to see Oscar today, right?”

“Of course,” I assured him as we made our way out of the stands. “I think I’ve missed him more than I’ve missed you,” I teased, hoping Roy would laugh.

And he did.

~

“Go on, Sam!” I shrieked, bouncing up and down, my knuckles white as I clutched my tablet to my chest.

We were well into stoppage time, somewhere in the ninety-seventh minute, tied 2-2 with Chelsea. I could feel the roar of the crowd vibrating deep in my chest as Sam raced down the field, far, far ahead of the defenders. I didn’t need to check my data, all the numbers on spreadsheets that showed what an amazing season Sam was having, to know he had this. I could see it in the way he carried himself.

My entire body tensed as he inched closer, closer…

And scored.

Almost immediately, the whistle shrieked, signaling the end of the game, and Richmond’s new place at the top of the Premier League standings. I screamed and threw my tablet into an empty dugout seat, knowing Will would be too excited to properly catch it. I followed the gaffers out onto the pitch, joining the team in tackling Sam, whose infectious laugh I could hear somewhere in the crowd. In all the jumping and cheering and laughing, I registered Ted smacking a kiss on my cheek, and Beard ruffling my hair, and the rest of the boys hugging me tight.

Finally, my eyes found Roy, who wore that big smile, the same one he’d worn after our very first kiss at my parents’ house. His smile softened as he made his way to me, shaking off players’ attempts at congratulations, stopping in front of me. I wondered if a hug would be too much to ask for-

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his hands cupping my face. “Really fucking proud of you.” He looked at the celebration raging around us. “And I want all these pricks to know it.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he ducked his head and crashed his lips into mine. His kiss was desperate, hungry, needy. Like he was a dying man with one last request. I smiled against his lips, remembering how much I loved the tickle of his beard against my skin as I laid my hands on his hips, pulling him closer. When I opened my mouth, he let out a small hum of delight, the vibrations rumbling against my chest. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the rowdy shouts and whistles coming from some of the players once they spotted us, the hearty “Well I’ll be!” from Ted, and what sounded like shrieks from Keeley and Rebecca- and was that Higgins too?- in the owner’s box. But all I could truly focus on was Roy. The feeling of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the sound of his gentle moan against my mouth, the smell of the cologne I’d bought for him in Paris, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, the intense pounding of his heart.

“Oi! Coach! Keep it family-friendly over there!”

With a low growl, Roy removed his lips from mine, instead pressing our foreheads together. “I’m gonna fucking kill Jamie Tartt,” he grumbled, his gentle smile contrasting his violent words.

I couldn’t help but laugh and bury my face in his chest, tightening my grip on him. “What happened to ‘privacy’?” I asked, my voice full of teasing.

Roy shrugged, lifting my face so we were looking at each other. “Fuck privacy. My team’s in first place. I wanted to fucking kiss my girl.” As if to prove his point, he planted a kiss on my lips again, smaller this time, but just as heated. When he released me, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face. “What’re the odds we can get through this party without having a dramatic row?”

I shrugged, fixing the sides of his shirt where I’d been gripping him. “Third time’s the charm, Kent.”

~

Roy insisted on not splitting to go get ready for the team celebration that night. Instead, he drove us both to his place so I could spend some time with Oscar while Roy got ready, then to my place so I could change into the little black dress he liked. When I walked out of my bedroom, transformed from “Game Day” me to “Going to the club with Roy Kent” me, his jaw dropped softly as he eyed me from the couch.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap. “Fucking gorgeous,” he purred, planting a kiss on my shoulder. He moved my hair away from my neck and laid a slow kiss there. “Do we have to go? We don’t seem to have the best luck at parties,” he teased, as if his real motivation wasn’t completely obvious.

I shoved him playfully. “Come on, Kent. Let’s go break our curse.”

The celebration was in full swing when we arrived at the swanky club the boys had chosen for to honor the occasion. As we approached the doors, I tightened my grip around Roy’s hand. As if he could feel my anxiety growing, he bent down and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Ready for the official debut of Roy Kent and his anonymous assistant?” I joked tensely.

With a small smile, Roy shook his head. “Fuck that. I’m ready to make our debut as you and me. Just us.”

My heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of the affection in his eye. “Just us,” I repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

Hand in hand, we walked through the bustling club, offering nods of acknowledgement to the players who shot us mischievous looks. Roy led me to the bar, where he ordered my usual drink and a beer for himself.

“Cheers,” he murmured, handing me my drink. He leaned on the bar and gazed at me as he took a sip of his beer, his eyes moving slowly down my figure. “You look so damn-”

“You guys!” Keeley squealed, throwing her arms around us and giving a squeeze before letting go, Jamie at her heels. “Holy shit! I have so many questions, you have to tell me everything!”

I glanced at Roy and intertwined our fingers. “Not much to tell,” I said with a shrug, suddenly feeling bashful.

Roy lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. “What she said.”

Jamie tapped his drink to Roy’s beer. “Cheers, Coach.” He smiled. “Guess this means we’ve got some double dates in our future, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Roy scoffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. The squeeze he gave my hand assured me that yes, we would have double dates with these two, no matter what he said with his mouth.

“Well, well, well, would you look at you two!” Ted approached us, his grin wider than I’d ever seen it. “Caught your lip lock after the game. All ya needed was some rain and y’all woulda given Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams a real run for their money. The Notebook, more like the Playbook, ya know?” He winked at Roy. “Went and got ’er, huh?”

Another eye roll from Roy. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the advice.” He turned to me. “Can we go sit down now? My fuckin’ knee is killing me.”

I stifled a giggle as I let him lead me to a secluded couch, away from the curious gazes of the Richmond players and staff. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and stared at me with a lazy grin. I turned my body to face him, the gears in my head turning.

“So, Ted gave you advice about us, hmm?”

Roy took a long drink of his beer. “He may have told me some stuff.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Y’know, before I left to go get ready for Phoebe’s recital, I heard Ted and Beard barking and running out of the office. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Kent?”

He let out a low growl and bobbled his head. “I may have asked the fucking Diamond Dogs for advice,” he muttered.

“You must’ve been desperate,” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

His eyes softened. “Guess I was,” he hummed, leaning towards me to steal a brief kiss. “Fucking missed this,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to my neck. “Missed you.”

“So, what advice did the Diamond Dogs give you?” I pressed, not willing to let him distract me from the topic at hand. “Or is it totally confidential?”

He tossed his head back with a defeated sigh. “They told me to fucking communicate with you. And to be willing to be, I dunno, vulnerable and shit.”

“Vulnerable,” I repeated, taking a sip of my drink. “That’s pretty sexy, you know.”

His eyebrows flew up. “So, if I spill all my fucking secrets and cry a bit, you’ll come home with me tonight?” he teased, leaning close.

“Only because I want to see Oscar,” I shot back, bumping his nose with mine.

Before Roy could retort or kiss me, Sam, Dani, and Colin ambled over, shit-eating grins on their faces. Roy scowled at them, while I opted for a smile and wave.

“Hi boys,” I greeted, prepared for the teasing we were about to receive.

Dani raised his eyebrow at us. “So, this is for real, yes?”

Colin nodded emphatically. “Don’t go jerking us ’round. We’ve been waiting for this for months.”

A look of almost revulsion spread across Roy’s face as he scoffed. “Are you pricks fucking serious?”

“Dead serious, boyo,” Colin confirmed. “Er, Coach,” he corrected under Roy’s glare. “We’ve been rooting for you. Even had a pool going about when you two’d get together.”

Sam grinned. “I had bet on the last game of the season. I am a very big fan of a dramatic slow-burn romance.”

As the boys chattered on about the different bets they’d placed and why, Roy leaned close to me. “Should we tell them we first got together fucking months ago?” he whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. “Don’t spoil their fun.”

~

I woke up smelling cinnamon. I turned over in bed, finding only Oscar, who’d ditched his own bed for Roy’s at some point.

“Morning, Oscar,” I mumbled, stroking the dog’s fur. “Where’s Roy, hmm?”

When the dog didn’t answer, I rolled myself out of bed and headed downstairs, the pitter-patter of Oscar’s paws following me the whole way. I found Roy in the kitchen, fully dressed, whistling and making French toast. Keeping quiet, I hovered in the doorway, watching him as my heart swelled with joy. He moved with a lightness I didn’t think I’d ever seen. It took me a moment to realize he was whistling “Something Good” from The Sound of Music. Unofficially “our song”.

Doing my best to step silently, I approached and wrapped my arms around his middle. “What’re you up to?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes at him.

He peered down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Making some fucking breakfast.”

“For who?”

“Jamie fucking Tartt,” he grumbled sarcastically, kissing the top of my head. “Who d’you fucking think?” He nodded towards the kitchen island. “Sit.”

I made a face at him. “Yes, Coach,” I teased, slipping my arms from around him and taking my usual seat. On the countertop were Roy’s car keys and a cup of tea. I took a sip and glanced up at Roy, who had resumed his whistling. “Did you go to the shop this morning?”

He shrugged. “Needed syrup.” He glanced back at me. “Hope your tea’s still hot.”

“It’s perfect,” I stared at him. “What’s with the production this morning?”

Roy plated a couple slices of French toast and brought it over to me. “Fuck d’you mean?”

I shrugged as I took the plate. “You went to the shop before I was awake to get syrup. Let me sleep in. Made sure my tea was ready. Cooked my favorite breakfast.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re spoiling me, Kent.”

“Ah.” Roy grabbed a fork and the syrup and slid them over to me, then leaned his elbows on the counter. “I… am just glad you’re here,” he said slowly, looking at me intently. “I have mentioned that I fucking missed you, yeah?”

My face warmed as I turned my attention to drowning my French toast in syrup. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He let out a shy chuckle, a sound I didn’t hear too often. “Well, I just wanted to, I don’t fucking know, celebrate getting back together.” He wrinkled his nose, clearly feeling the same nervousness I was feeling. “I know we’re still figuring all this shit out, but it’s nice. It’s fucking nice.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. I took a bite of French toast and felt myself melt at the familiar taste. “Shit. I almost forgot Roy Kent can cook,” I teased.

Rolling his eyes, Roy turned and served himself a plate before joining me back at the island. “Alright. So, I was thinking-”

“A dangerous pastime.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Almost forgot you never fucking shut up.” He took an aggressive bite of his breakfast. “Like I was saying, I was thinking we should swing by your place today.” His eyes flickered up to me. “Pick up that box of stuff Jamie brought you.” The air felt heavy for a moment at the mention of what I thought of as the ‘break-up box’. “Y’know, because you need a toothbrush.” He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Your morning breath is fucking awful.”

“Prick,” I mumbled, unable to contain my grin.

It felt good to be back.

~

That Monday, after pulling into his usual parking at Nelson Road, Roy turned off the car and eyed me carefully. “What?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What what?”

“You’ve had this fucking… look on your face the whole drive over.” He shrugged. “You thinkin’ about something?”

“Oh.” I looked down at my hands. “Just… everyone knows now,” I huffed, trying to sound casual.

Roy leaned his head back against the headrest. “Don’t fucking tell me you want to go back to keeping things secret?” he asked teasingly. “Because I will drive this car off a fucking cliff.”

I laughed. “No. It’s just going to take some getting used to. I fully expect at least a month of teasing from the guys.”

“Yeah. But at least I can do this whenever I fucking want.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, slowly, tenderly, full of affection.

When he pulled back, I smiled, the butterflies in my stomach now completely gone. “Whenever you want, hmm? I’d love to see you try that during training.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.

I nodded towards the building. “Come on, then. Can’t have you making me late, you menace.”

I had walked into the offices side by side with Roy before. Many times. It wasn’t a secret that we drove to work together sometimes, claiming that I liked to use the carpool time to try to transcribe Roy’s shit handwriting to our digital playbook I’d made.

Now, however, Roy casually threw his arm around my shoulders, making me feel like a teenage girl walking down the hall with the most popular boy in school, my cheeks growing a smidge warmer with every pair of eyes that glanced our way with knowing smiles.

In the changing room, the guys all stood a little taller, mouths open with glee, when we walked in. Before any of them could make one of the million comments they’d probably had prepared for months, Roy cleared his throat, shooting them his most intimidating glare.

“Don’t.”

Quickly, each Greyhound turned and pretended to be very busy in their cubbies. I chuckled and knocked my hip into Roy’s as he led me to the coaching offices, where Ted and Beard sat, sipping coffee.

Beard raised his eyebrows at us. “Well, hello there,” he greeted in a sing-songy voice, tapping the brim of his hat.

Roy nodded with a small grunt in return, speaking the wordless language only the two of them understood.

Ted lit up as he looked us over. “Move over Becks and Posh, there’s a new hot couple in the soccer world!” He lifted his paper cup in our direction. “Seriously, I am very happy for you two. Roy, you are practically glowing.”

The furrow in Roy’s brow at Ted’s comment was almost enough to make me giggle. “Right, I should let you gentlemen get ready for training.” I beamed up at Roy. “You pick lunch today.”

“Fine.” He bent his head and kissed my lips, eliciting little oooohs from Ted and Beard. Roy growled at them, but I could see a playful glimmer in his eye.

I practically skipped to my desk and set my things down, glancing at the to-do list I’d left myself before the weekend. As I opened my laptop and started looking at the week’s schedule, my eyes were drawn to the wall space above my desk- specifically, to the spot formerly taken up by a particular little orange sticky note.

Roy stepped into the office and dropped his duffel on his chair. Apparently, his gaze was drawn to the same spot. “I should write you a new autograph,” he murmured, his voice light.

“I’ll just ask Keeley to give the old one back,” I replied with a shrug.

“Nah.” I heard scribbling behind me. “Here.” Roy leaned over me and stuck a new sticky note on the wall.

To my favourite fan. XOXO Roy

I tilted my head up to see Roy gazing down at me. “How much d’you think I could get for this on eBay?”

“Fuck you.” He kissed the top of my head. “See you later.”

As soon as Roy and the other gaffers were out of the office, I couldn’t help myself; I spun around in my chair, giggling like a schoolgirl in love.

~

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Roy grumbled as we walked arm-in-arm through the building. “I fucking know where her office is.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I’m just offering my support. Being a good girlfriend.”

Roy grunted. “Fine. Whatever.” We walked in silence for a bit before he opened his mouth again. “Thanks. For being supportive.”

“Anytime.” I smiled up at him. “I’m really proud of you, y’know.”

Glancing around us at the empty hallway, Roy stopped walking and leaned against the wall, sliding his hand down to hold mine. “And why’s that?”

I pressed myself close to him. “Because. You’re doing something, I dunno, brave. Working through something that’s hard for you. Being vulnerable.” I put a teasing emphasis on the word, knowing Roy hated it.

Sure enough, he growled. “You still find that sexy, right?”

“Very,” I assured him. I kissed his cheek. “I find it so sexy I’m thinking I’ll spend the night at your place again tonight.”

He smirked. “That’s three nights in a row.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? You’ve been very vulnerable lately. I can’t resist.”

“Imagine how much you’ll like me after my therapy session.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Which I am going to be fucking late for if I don’t get going.”

“Alright, go, go.” I planted one more kiss on his lips. “You’ve got this. I love you.”

An hour later, Roy returned to our office, where I was working out a schedule to send to Keeley so she could have some of the guys in an advertisement. As soon as I heard the familiar sound of Roy’s heavy footsteps, I whipped my chair around.

“So, how’d it go?” I asked in a cheery tone as Roy plopped into his chair.

He grunted, swiveling his chair from side to side. “Fine.”

I eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” I assured him. “I just hope you found it helpful.”

Roy glanced through the window into Ted’s empty office. “Are they gone?”

I nodded. “Pretty much everyone’s already left for the day.”

“Good.” He pushed his chair closer to mine. “Doctor Sharon was good,” he started. “I, uh, told her about what happened with us. About all the shit the press I’ve had for, like, ever. About how Brittany Brett treated me. About having my watch stolen.” He paused. “Really fucking liked that watch too.”

“And did Doctor Sharon say anything you found helpful?” I asked, trying to get Roy back on track.

“A lot of the same shit the Diamond Dogs said, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Communication, being willing to be vulnerable-”

I pretended to swoon. “My favorite word.”

He smirked. “And she talked about being very honest with you when something makes me uncomfortable or if I need something from you.” He leaned forward and grabbed my hands. “She also reminded me that you were very patient with me when I asked you to keep things quiet. That you have shown over and over that you care about me, just Roy, not about me as a football legend.”

I made a face. “D’you ever feel like a wanker when you call yourself a ‘legend’?”

“Why? Do I sound like one?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Just a bit.”

He chuckled. “Fuck me then. Anyway.” He squeezed my hands. “Doctor Sharon also said that we… should try to forgive each other.” His eyes searched mine. “So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I made you feel like a secret or like I was fucking ashamed to be with you. That was never what I wanted. I’m…” He paused, glancing down. “I’m very fucking proud to be with you, actually.” He cleared his throat. “You’re fucking amazing. Fucking smart as hell, and kind, and you’re great with Phoebe, and you love football, and you’re fucking fit.” His eyes flickered back to my face. “And most importantly, I fucking love you.” He took a deep breath. “So I hope you… forgive me.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking in every word Roy had just said. “I forgive you.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “And I’m sorry, Roy. For letting Brittany Brett get to me and not respecting what you had asked about keeping quiet. And for making you uncomfortable by being so pushy that night instead of having an adult conversation.” I offered an unsure smile. “Forgive me?”

“Course I fucking forgive you.” Roy’s ears were a deep red. “Alright, is that enough being vulnerable for today?”

I chuckled. “Sure, Roy.”

“Good.” Without warning he stood and picked me up, one arm under my legs and the other behind my back, smirking at my surprised squeal. “When we get home, you can show me how much you like me being vulnerable.”

~

“You fucking sure you have to go?” Roy had asked me the same question about twenty times on Friday evening from the moment we left work to the moment I tossed my overnight bag into his car.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a grin as I wrapped my arms around him. “Yes, Roy. Keeley’s gone all out planning this pyjama party and if I cancel on her I’m pretty sure she’ll murder me.”

“I don’t mind planning a funeral,” he muttered, kissing my face. “Might be kind of fun.”

I pretended to be offended. “Really? You’d let someone kill me so I don’t go to a fucking slumber party?”

He shrugged. “I… fucking like waking up with you next to me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes with embarrassment.

“You needy thing,” I mumbled, breaking out of his grip and opening the passenger door. “Come on, you said you’d be my chauffer.”

“Hold on, I've got somethin’ for you.” He disappeared into the house and came back out holding-

“Is that my fucking lucky sweater?” I gasped as he handed it to me. “You had it this whole fucking time?” I thew it on over the t-shirt I was wearing with my leggings. “You prick, I was busting my ass looking for this.”

Roy looked sheepish. “I meant to put it in the box Tartt took over to you,” he admitted. “But I just…” He shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

My annoyance gave way to soft affection. “Roy Kent, you sentimental fool,” I muttered, kissing his cheek. “Still have to take me to Keeley’s though.”

He grunted and helped me into the car. “Was worth a fucking shot.”

Keeley Jones had the perfect house for a good, old-fashioned slumber party. Everything was pink and neon and glittery and covered in feathers. She answered the door in the cutest pink-checkered pyjamas I’d ever seen, with her hair held in pigtails by matching pink pom-poms and fuzzy pink slippers on her feet.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug. “Rebecca’s already inside, she’s making mimosas.”

“Oi!” Roy leaned out the car window, smirking at us. “Take good care of her, alright? I want her back in one piece.”

Keeley stuck out her tongue at him. “No boys allowed! You can have her back tomorrow!”

Roy rolled his eyes, still smirking, and waved before driving off. I turned to Keeley, who squealed excitedly and ushered me inside, where Rebecca greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a glass in my hand. The three of us settled in Keeley’s living room, bubbly pop music blasting from a speaker as we clutched fluffy pillows and dug into the snacks Keeley had put out.

“Alright,” Keeley started, waggling her eyebrows. “Spill.”

I sipped my drink, trying to be casual. “About?”

Rebecca scoffed. “Don’t be coy. Tell us everything about you and Roy.” She made a face. “Shit. Didn’t mean to rhyme.”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I brought my knees to my chest, feeling every bit the young girl at a sleepover. “I mean, what’s there to say? We were together, that stupid article happened, we got back together. That’s it.”

“No, not all the drama,” Keeley said, wrinkling her nose. “We want the details.” She leaned in close. “Like, what he’s like when you’re alone. The dates you go on. That sort of thing.” She touched her glass to mine. “Of course, what’s said at pyjama parties, stays at pyjama parties, alright?”

I shot her a thankful smile. “Fine.” Another sip. “Roy’s… wonderful,” I sighed. “He’s so gentle and romantic. So fucking sweet to me.” I thought for a moment. “He cooks. Likes to make me my tea in the morning.” After a pause, I added, “He let me name his dog.”

“Roy has a dog?” Rebecca asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Oscar.” I grinned. “Named him after the Sesame Street character.”

Keeley giggled. “Oh shit, that’s so cute!”

We sat like that for hours, chattering and drinking, giggling and singing along to the songs that Keeley played. Finally, after a particularly spirited rendition of “Wannabe” at around midnight, Keeley perked up.

“I have a fabulous idea,” she announced, jumping to her feet with a surprising agility for someone who had lost count of her mimosas. We gazed at her expectantly. “What slumber party is complete without some pranks?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What’d you have in mind?”

An hour later, we stood in front of Roy’s house, chalk in hand.

“Oh no,” I protested. “Roy’s going to fucking kill us.”

“Come on, we already did Jamie’s house.” Keeley pouted. “We’ve gotta do your boyfriend’s house too.” She lit up like a Christmas tree and held up her piece of chalk. “Let’s get to work!”

Giggling and shushing one another like children, we tiptoed up Roy’s driveway and began drawing all over his driveway and walkway. Keeley, classy as always, drew very detailed anatomical pictures, while Rebecca doodled an exaggerated but sweet caricature of Roy. My vandalism was simple: a giant heart with our names inside.

Right as I was adding smaller hearts around my drawing, the door burst open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

All three of us dropped our chalk.

“Run for it!” Keeley squealed, jumping up. “Looking fit Roy!” she called over her shoulder as she sprinted back to our Uber, Rebecca laughing behind her.

Before I could catch up, Roy’s arms wrapped around me. “Gotcha,” he grumbled, giving me a playful squeeze.

I looked up at him, completely drunk and in love. “Hi there.” Despite the number of times I’d slept next to him, I couldn’t help blushing at the sight of him shirtless.

His tired face softened. “What the fuck were you guys doing?” He stifled a yawn.

“Playing a prank,” I admitted. I pointed to the ground. “I drew that one.”

He looked down. “Cute,” he snorted. He glanced across the driveway, where the girls were clambering into the Uber. “You don’t have to go back with them, do you?” He was practically whining, something I’d never heard before.

I kissed his face. “I’ll see you in the morning. Go cuddle Oscar if you miss me so much.”

“But he doesn’t look nearly as fit as you do in my old kits.” He gave me a squeeze and kissed my forehead. “Go on, then. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

As I sat in the back of the car listening to Keeley and Rebecca howl with laughter, I leaned my head back and smiled, feeling drunk and sleepy and lucky and so in love with Roy Kent, who I knew would pick me up in the morning with a smile on his face and a chocolate muffin in his hand.

~

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[i-heart-hxh]

Hi again! Hope life gets back to settled soon for you! I had a question about your HxH collection. How do you prioritize the figures/merch that you want to collect? Does it boil down to "I like this pose/manufacturer/price point/etc" or do you go for more unique things to differentiate the overall collection?

And also, as someone else who is currently growing their collection: how do you store so many boxes and plastic clam shells? It's beginning to become a problem for me lol

Thanks for your time!

Hi there! Thank you!!

These are great questions! I'm actually a serious, extensive lifelong collector of many things, and as I've gotten older figuring out what to go for and not has become a bit of an art form for me, haha. When I first got into HxH, there wasn't nearly as much merchandise releasing as there is now, so over time I've had to gradually figure out prioritizing.

My method is basically: When an item is announced, if I immediately decide to go for it, then that's a definite yes. If I'm on the fence, I'll usually see if I keep thinking about it or not. If it leaves my mind easily, I don't worry about it, but if I keep thinking about it I'll usually get it.

I personally tend to prioritize items that I feel will be difficult or impossible to get later. This includes rare/unique items like cels/production art, really old or scarce items, limited items, and also fanmade items (doujinshi, things at Artist Alleys at cons, etc.). Figures and plush and such that are released widely tend to be easier to get later so they can sometimes wait, but it's simple to pre-order them so I generally do that if I'm sure I'll want them when the release date comes.

I think it's good to focus on what tends to bring you the most lasting happiness with regards to collectibles--sometimes it's better to splurge on something that continues to make you excited to own for a long time than buy a few things you don't care about as much. But things don't have to be rare/expensive to make you happy, of course--maybe the personality that comes through on a particular type of figure makes you happy, or you find you love teeny tiny items, or having lots of art prints on your wall brings you joy, etc. It can be hard to figure out what to focus on when there's lots to choose from, but really paying attention to what you value and what feels best to you helps!

As for boxes, I'm lucky to have a lot of closet space with shelves so honestly I tend to shove my boxes in there. (Though admittedly even that is becoming difficult as time goes by.) I personally like to keep them whenever possible, but if you really don't have room I think it's okay to either flatten or toss some of the less exciting ones!

I hope this is helpful, and here are a few casual pics of some of my HxH merch, though I honestly have a LOT more than is pictured here and these aren't the best pictures:

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Hi I really loved your Xavier one shot and I wanted to request one if you don’t mind <3 So it’s Wednesdays birthday she invites reader and enid who are her roommates to a girls night out but she was lying to them and turns out she was taking them to the old gates mansion to investigate ( basically the scene were Wednesday and enid get in the car with Tyler and end up at the gates mansion just add the reader ) and once there and the monster attacks them reader gets hurt while jumping from the fence and they meet Xavier and go to Tyler’s house and Xavier helps reader clean her arm and when they go back to nevermore he offers her to sleep in his dorm because he had seen the panic she’s in when enids phone rang and she jumped <3 ( sorry it’s really long and detailed I hope u don’t mind it’s friends to lovers btw ) 

It´s done, anon. <3 I ended up changing it up a teeny tiny bit, but I hope you still like it!

You could have called me

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis: You get hurt while exploring the Gates mansion. What comes out of it is something much happier.

warnings: mentions of injury

word count: 1.2k

You suck in a harsh breath as you first feel the sting of the disinfectant on your wound. Your arm instinctively flinching away from Xaviers gentle hands. It isn´t too deep, you were lucky he tells you, but it still hurts like hell.

“I´m sorry.” He whispers in an apologetic tone.

“It´s okay.” You assure him to continue. Your voice barely above a breath as it forces its way through your clenched teeth. Trying to take deep, calming breaths as the alcohol continues to sting your wounds.

“Does it hurt much? The wound?” He asks while taking a bandage to your arm.

You shake your head no. “I can barely feel it. Probably still the shock…”

“Yeah, probably.” Xavier goes back to concentrating on patching you up for a bit.

The silence between you that always had been comfortable now makes you feel on edge.

“Will it look like yours once it is healed?” You let your fingers run over his neck, where his scars stand out from the rest of his pale skin in a pink hue, softly.

“Yeah, I think. It should be deep enough to scar. The monster got you pretty good.” The two of you each huff a laugh.

It feels so good to laugh and as he moves to tie up the bandage you rest your hand on his cheek. His face is so close, that for a moment it feels like you are about to kiss.

That moment immediately gets destroyed by steps coming closer.

“We gotta go.” Wednesday informs you in her usual monotone voice. If tonight has affected her in any way, her face doesn´t show a single bit of it.

You nod, taking your ripped jacket of the chair and heading out of the house. Xavier following close.

The four of you make your way half way back to the school when Enid´s phone rings. The quiet of the night makes the sound seem even louder than it. The suddenness of it, makes you jump.

“Hey, you´re okay. You´re safe.” Xaviers soothing voice brings you back to reality. A reality where you have grabbed onto his arm and your body trembles.

“Sorry…” This time it is your turn to apologize.

“It´s okay.” He murmurs, secretly wishing for you to hold onto him longer as your fingers let go of his arm.

The rest of your way back luckily goes by without any more instances, though you never quite relax.

It´s hard from parting your friends, but especially the safety Xavier´s presence brings you, when you reach the dorms. Wednesday and Enid are quick to leave the two of you out in the dark. In silence.

“I…” You try to say something, but the words die in your throat.

“Do you maybe want to stay with me tonight? Just to calm the nerves…” He speaks slowly. Carefully choosing his words.

“That would be nice.” A thankful expression takes over your face.

He takes your hand and pulls you with him. The contact making your skin feel warm and a sense of calm take over your body.

Xavier leads you up to his room where he lets go of your hand to prepare the empty second bed for you to sleep in.

“Thank you, for letting me sleep here, Xav.” You lay down carefully as to not lay on the wounded arm and hurt yourself more.

“Anything for you. If you need anything else just tell me, alright?” He asks, worry still apparent in his tone.

“Alright…” You echo quietly.

“Do you want the lights on or off?” He looks at you with soft eyes and an even softer voice.

“On, please. If that´s okay.” You hum in response.

“Of course it is. Try to sleep now. Your body will need it to heal.” He sighs and goes over to his own bed.

The lights from his bedside table and desk lamp tinge the room in a soft, warm glow. Under different circumstances you would have thought it to be comfortable or even romantic, but right now as you stare at the ceiling it helps little to lift the anxiety off your chest. The room gets shrouded in silence once more pictures start to flash behind your eyes. Pictures of the gates mention, of running for your life and how those claws tore at your skin.

You don´t remember when your eyes must have fallen shut, but when you look at the time on your phone it hasn´t been long. Your heart is beating out of your chest and a light sheen of sweat covers your body.

With heavy limbs you kick the blanket off and move to the bathroom. The cold water feels nice on your face and helps you think clearly again. Yet, when you step back inside the room, you can´t bring yourself to crawl back into that lonely bed again.

“Xavi?” You whisper. “Xav, are you awake?”

“I am. What do you need?” Comes his answer from beneath the sheets.

“I can´t sleep alone. Can I lie with you? Only for a bit.” You shift your weight from one foot to the other and play with your fingers as you wait for his answer.

His reply comes in the form of wordlessly rolling over to make room for you.

The bed is small and so it forces you into a very close proximity already, but you cuddle up as close to him as possible. His arms laid around your middle and yours on top of his. Your fingertips run over his arms with feather light motions. It´s calming, helps forget the images in your head. Moving up slowly until you reach the side of his neck again. Laying your hand against it, you realize how close you truly are. Xavier´s warm breath fans over your face as you hold yours and then as if you had the same thought at the same moment, you move in for a kiss. It´s languid, but comfortable. It feels like your lips were made for his surprisingly soft ones only. The slow movements never speed up. It´s just you two in your own perfect, safe, little world.

When you eventually do part from each other, your breath comes in heavy bursts. Your eyes switching between his olive ones. Tracing the brown surroundings of his pupil. Neither of them can think of anything to say. Not a single word.

“I could´ve lost you today.” Xavier breathes first. “I love you.”

His confession is overwhelming. “I love you too. You´ll never lose me.”

“No, but I could have. What if that… thing had gotten to you. Or I don´t know something else could have gone wrong. That house is old, you shouldn´t have gone in there no matter for what.”

“Shhh, I know. I didn´t even know where we were going and when I did it was too late to leave. Wednesday was so hellbent on going in the mansion I couldn´t let her and Enid go alone. Not with Tyler. The only one of them wo knows self-defense is Wednesday and even she couldn´t fight off a monster alone.”

“You could have called me…”

Only then it dawns on you both, what you have just confessed with a nonchalance as if you had spoken the words a hundred times before. `I love you´. The three words hang in the air between you. He presses his lips to yours once more. The rest was a conversation for when you had recovered from the night.

[esther-dot]

Hello, hope you're having a pleasant day!

I've been meaning to ask you for a bit of professional jonsa opinion for a pretty long time about this little theory of mine - could that be a thing or am I being delusional jonsa (as I always do).

So in SoS, Sansa IV there is this moment in her period dream where she calls for people who could possibly protect her, her father and brothers are among this list. And it's seems like a normal thing to do - to call for her family - but, but, but, BUT! - she never calls for her mother. She never calls for arya. She calls for people (and Lady) who could theoretically actively protect her as she thinks (Dontos and Loras are here too)- so people are not there by default, her subconscious actively chooses people to call for.

And that raises one teeny tiny question. Why would she then be calling for Bran and Rikon? I can't imagine that Sansa who is old enough to see them as little boys crying in their cribs just a couple of years earlier would think of them as said brothers who can protect her/save her. Robb is understandable choice - but then who would be this at least one other brother?

So yeah, I've convinced myself that when she calls for her brothers to help she means Robb and Jon. Like, you know, all those hidden times characters think of other characters without "thinking" of them (I'm looking at you, Jon, with your little "willowy creature" and "sight so lovely" comments). Because it would be actually understandable thing - she may not be very close with boys in their childhood, but she would probably see them training or playing together or whatever noble boys do being boys. It would be enough for her to see them both as "strong brothers who could protect her in case of something bad happens" - consciously or subconsciously.

What do you think? Is it too far fetched? May be it's been discussed and I'm just unaware? I just wish we could have the level of "thinking but not actually thinking" from Sansa as we do with Jon.

Sorry, this ask came out way too long. Thank you for letting me share this thing!

Thank you! It has been A Day™ (...a week...a year….😅) Anyway, I haven't seen anyone point that out!

"No," she cried, "no, please, don't, don't," but no one paid her any heed. She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard. Women swarmed over her like weasels, pinching her legs and kicking her in the belly, and someone hit her in the face and she felt her teeth shatter. (ACOK, Sansa IV)

You know, I think you may be onto something because she is calling out to people who are in that "hero" role for her, it isn’t simply who she is close to (cuz you’re right, she doesn't call for her mother) and considering how she thinks of Bran and Rickon around that same time, it doesn't really fit her perception of them to think they're the ones she calls for?

"Sansa, did you hear? I'm to ride in the tourney today. Mother said I could." Tommen was all of eight. He reminded her of her own little brother, Bran. They were of an age. Bran was back at Winterfell, a cripple, yet safe. Sansa would have given anything to be with him. (ACOK, Sansa I) By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell, dancing and sewing, playing with Bran and baby Rickon,(ACOK, Sansa II)

As young as Robb is, she does view him as a hero who might avenge her as far back as AGOT,

After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." (AGOT, Sansa VI)

and while we don't have a similar thought of Jon, we have good reason to think he might lurk as a hero figure too, considering how she romanticizes knights and thinks of the Watch:

In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. (AGOT, Sansa III)

And, Jon is listed among her siblings in her next chapter, so he is in that "brother" grouping at this point in the story:

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. (ACOK, Sansa V)

There's more of a distinction later, Jonsas have suggested Martin intentionally aims to create distance between her and Jon in ASOS where she seems to forget him:

But she had not forgotten his words, either. The heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It's your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. (ASOS, Sansa II)

That exclusion might just be because she's thinking of who has a claim? It certainly heightens the "alone in the world" feeling she has in ASOS and AFFC until our favorite moment,

Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's." "Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised. "Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose." She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise. (AFFC, Alayne II)

Where he returns to being "brother." So no, I don't think this is far fetched at all, especially when Martin has designated Jon as her hero, a fun twist we don't get until ADWD and will truly play out in TWOW, so it makes sense to me that he wouldn't name Jon (to kinda, preserve the element of surprise), but that upon their reunion we will see that even though Jon and Sansa aren't close and Sansa will have this curious, brother and yet not quite, view of him, it's a positive light in which she sees him, a heroic light.

I buy it, anon! Thank you for sharing this theory. I fully support any and all Jonsa delusions! 🥰

[friendly-books]

Side Jobs live blog

Side Jobs

A restoration of faith 

“The kid lifted up her Oxford shoes and mule-kicked her leg back in my shin.” pg. 2 Ha I love this kid already 

“I’m up on North Avenue, and it’s after dark. I’m not leaving a nine-year-old girl out here by  herself.” pg. 3 That’s a good way for the kid to be ACTUALLY KIDNAPPED 

“What happened to your car?”

“Broke down this afternoon.” pg. 4 The Blue Beetle mention!

“It belongs on the set of El Dorando,” she snapped” pg. 5 Ha 

“Sucker,” she called back, her voice merry.” pg. 7 Ha I love this kid so much spunk 

Oh no a troll

Poor kid with neglectful parents 

“A ten-year-old girl’s world should be full of music and giggling and notes and dolls and dreams-not harsh, barren, jaded reality.” pg. 13 Did Maggie have this? Before the Red Court Did Harry have this before his dad died? 

“Her eyes were bright with excitement. “That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. I want to be a wizard when I grow up.” pg. 22 Ha

“Hey thanks a lot of help, Officer”-I squinted down at her badge “Murphy.” pg. 22 Murphy! Holy cow Murphy attacks a troll. So cool

Vignette 

“I have nightmares about Hell, where all I do is add up numbers and try to have conversations with people like you.” pg. 28 Ha 

“Yeah. Advertising is all about lying” pg. 29 Ha and Bob’s not wrong

“You suck at lying, Harry. You really do.” pg. 29 Ha and yeah Harry isn’t great at lying 

“Why do you do it?

I squinted up at the skull. “Because someone has to” pg. 30 Yep

Something Borrowed 

“Oh for crying out loud, Dresden.” Billy said, his tone amused. “He’s just fitting the tux” pg. 32 Ha 

Poor Kirby 

“For one thing, this” she said, flicking a hand at me. Then she gave me a second, more evaluating look” pg. 37 Rude

“Billy put his face in his hands” pg. 39 Ha

“Once my mouth was open and my lips stared moving, it was pretty much inevitable.” pg. 40 Ha

“Don’t get paranoid Harry” pg. 42 Given Harry’s life I feel like he should be more paranoid 

Oh no the apartment 

Oh dear Bob and Murphy meet 

Oh no Faeries 

“A faerie has taken her place” pg. 49 Oh no

“THE WORST THING about being a wizard is all the presumption; people’s expectations.” pg. 51 That’s the worst thing?!? Really? 

“I keep meaning to go back and fix that, but there’s never time

I had a marriage like that” pg. 52 Ha and which one?

“That’s why you have to be careful what you choose to Look at. I don’t like doing it, ever. You never know what it is you’ll See.” pg. 58 Harry knows that well

“I let out a battle cry. Sure, a lot of people might have mistaken it for a sudden yelp of unmanly fear, but trust me: It was a battle cry” pg. 59 Ha 

The trust Murphy has to run into the fire

The pure force bridge is cool

Good thinking with the sprinklers 

“Jenny Greenteeth would kill Murphy too” pg. 81 Oh no wait why am I oh no-ing I know Murph is going to be fine 

“The next thing I knew, I was smashing my blasting rod down into Jenny Greenteeth, screaming incoherently and pounding as hard as I could.” pg. 82 Protective Harry 

“For one second, for one teeny tiny instant, I felt her mouth move. I felt her head tilt, her lips soften, and my oh-so-professional CPR-just for a second, mind you-felt almost, almost like a kiss.” pg. 84 No that’s not how CPR works 

It’s my birthday too

“I mean, you didn’t get my dad one, and you’re friends with him” pg. 91 Harry get your friends birthday gifts 

“I’ve seen you two fight.” She lifted both pale eyebrows. “What? Have you seen how many brother and sisters I have? I know my siblings conflicts?” pg. 91 Ha

Oh no Thomas is in trouble no wait nevermind 

I can’t tell if Harry would like LARP 

“If you weren’t my brother, I’d probably tell you that you have some awfully nerdy hobbies” pg. 104 Ha and pot meet kettle 

Oh no Molly 

“The streetlights just went out” pg. 110 Oh no 

“And then it went dead, along with the lights, the music playing on the speakers, and the constant blowing sigh of the heating system.” pg. 111 Oh no

Oh no Black Court 

I love the Cobbs 

Cool gravity spell

Nice job with the garlic 

“First, anytime I’m not shooting my mouth off to a cliched, two-bit creature of the night like you, it’s because I’m up to something.” pg. 145 Ha

“Right after my dad died, they put me in an orphanage. It was Christmas time. On the television, they had a commercials for Rock’em Sock’em Robots. Two kids playing with them, you know? Two brothers” I shrugged. “That was a year when I really, really wanted to give those stupid plastic robots to my brother.”

“Because it would mean weren’t alone.” Thomas said quietly 

“Yeah” I said “Sorry I forgot them. And happy birthday.” 

He glanced back at the burning mall.

“Well,” my brother said, “I suppose it’s the thought that counts.” pg. 148 Aw my heart 

Heorot 

Gard and Harry bonding moments let’s go!

“Just basking in the glow of your compassion, Officer.” pg. 154 Ha 

Caine is terrible 

“I glowered at him. I’m not sure I could take it if my dog was smarter than me.” pg. 164 Ha

Caine starts a fight let’s see who wins 

It’s just beer Caine needs to chill 

“Marcone is behind this? That son of a bitch is going to be sorry he ever looked at that-“ 

pg. 169 Harry you should know Marcone better than that. 

Also Marcone mention!

“Me and polite have never been on close term.” pg. 179 Ha

“It hunts in the wizard’s territory. The wizard will come to face it. The Erkling will give us great favor when we bring the wizards head.” 

“Gosh. I felt famous” pg. 186 Ha 

“Enough talk” pg. 189 Gard is going into a rage fun 

Gard is a Valkyrie cool

“Then she leaned down and kissed me on the mouth.” pg. 209 Whoa 

Day off

Aw Harry’s playing D&D with the alphas 

“Again with this decision.” Andi sighed “I mean I know he’s the actual wizard and all, but Christ.” pg. 212 Ha

“Sorry about your wraith, there, Darth Wannabe.” pg. 218 Ha

“I’m a-fixin to defend myself” I drawled, Texas-style.” pg. 218 Ha 

“Molly,” I said, trying to be polite, “I can’t stand the sight of you. Go away.” pg. 222 Ha

An explosion happened and Harry didn’t cause it shocking I’m shocked 

Kirby and Andi have fleas ha

“Mister the cat, appeared exactly as he always did” pg. 228 So cool

“Andi. Please don’t tell me that you and Kirby have been getting down while you were fuzzy” pg. 230 Why would they do that?

Molly set the lab on fire she’s taking after Harry 

“At least it couldn’t get any worse.” pg. 233 Harry you know better than to say that 

What a mess Harry shouldn’t take a day off.

Backup

Oh Thomas narrating 

“He’s Gandalf on crack and an IV of Red Bull” pg. 241 Ha 

“He’ll spit in the eye of gods and demons alike if he thinks it needs to be done.” pg. 241 Yeah that’s Harry alright 

“My name is Thomas Raith and I’m a monster” pg. 242 No Thomas you’re not a monster :(

So there’s a secret Oblivion war going on 

Lara people aren’t pets 

The Hunger is terrifying 

Justine!

Oh no Harry’s in trouble

Thomas can do magic!!! 

“He’ll whip out some kind of half-divine, half-insane philosophy cobbled together from the words of saints and comic books about the importance of handling power responsibly.” pg. 258 Yep 

“Harry’s a master of the skill-as in simultaneous doctorates from MIT, Harvard, and Yale and a masters from Oxford.” pg. 258 It’s interesting to see other people’s perspective and opinions on Harry 

“Locks, though, never seemed to pose a much of an obstacle to my brother.” pg. 261 Ha

“Harry had occasionally accused me of being reckless and overconfident-which is, believe me, staggering magnitude.” pg. 267 Ha 

“He’d turned into a neat freak a few years ago, for some reason, though he’d never talked about why.” pg. 269 Ha 

“It’s a little bit creepy, actually. My brother’s got a voodoo doll of the entire town.” pg. 270 Ha

“I think that genuinely speaking, you don’t have secrets from your brother, man.” pg. 272 Yep unless you count the whole I didn’t tell you were brothers for awhile bit. 

“Bob made a whistle sound.

What the hell? How? He doesn’t have lips?” pg. 275 Ha 

The Oblivion War is scary 

Aw Bob is protecting Harry 

“Scratch one ghoul. My brother hates ghouls with a passion so pure it’s almost holy.” pg. 283 Yep it’s we deserved 

“But the bitch had messed with my brother.” pg. 285 Protective Thomas 

Thomas just feed the bad girl to his hunger 

“Sometimes I feel completely unappreciated.”

I found myself smiling 

“Wow” I said “what’s it like?” pg. 291 Ha

The Warrior 

Aw Michael’s a coach 

“I’m pretty sure there won’t ever be a place like that for me.” pg. 297 Aw Harry :( you’ll get a family home soon 

“She had a bruise on her cheek a couple of days old.” pg. 299 Oh no why does the kid have a bruise on her face? 

“Hi” I said, trying to be unthreatening as I could. I had limited success. Tall, severe-looking men in long black coats who need a shave are challenged that way.” pg. 299 Poor Harry

I love Harry interacting with Michael and Charity’s kids 

“Let me poke around and shine a light on things, so we know what’s going on. If it turns out to be nothing, no harm done.”

“And if it isn’t?” Charity asked 

“I kept a surge of quiet anger out of my voice and expression as I looked at her levelly. “No harm gets done to you and yours.” pg. 304 Yes protective Harry 

“It’d take one he-uh, heck of a serious counter measure to stop me from finding it.” pg. 311 Ha 

“I didn’t want to go off and leave…”

You 

“The sword…”

Unprotected 

“Here” I finished” pg. 311 Just your friends you’re worried about them Harry 

I don’t think Chuck should be drunk and working especially if he’s a electrician 

“I’ve been in burning buildings, man, and take it from me, this place…” I looked around at the wooden framework. “Fwoosh. I’m just saying Fwoosh.” pg. 321 Ha and you definitely caused those building fires Harry 

“Harry Dresden. Saving the world, one act of random destruction at a time.” pg. 322 Ha

“I don’t blame myself,” I said.” pg. 324 That’s the biggest bold faced lie I’ve ever seen. 

Yes you do Harry 

Butters! 

Oh someone in the church is behind it. A Fundamentalist maybe? 

“Watching life through the window and obsessed with how things might have been”

“Dear God,” she said. “You’ve just made Dickens relevant to my life.” 

“Weird, right?” pg. 341 Ha 

Oh no Alicia 

“The son of a bitch hurt my little girl.” pg. 352 Holy Cow Michael swore! :0 

Yes Michael vs Douglass 

“Michael,” I said, gently, “you can’t. If this is how it has to be, I’ll do it. But you can’t, man.” pg. 366 Is Harry saying he’s willing to murder so long as Micheal doesn’t 

Uriel’s here 

“Very kind,” he said and took a swig from the flask.” pg. 368 Uriel drinking alcohol 

I love how Uriel tells Harry how all the little things he did helped. 

“I nodded slowly. Then I said, “Let’s talk about my bill”

Jake eyebrows shot up “What?” 

“My bill,” I enunciated. “You dragged me into this mess. You can pay me, same as any other client. Where do I send the invoice?” 

“You’re…you’re trying to bill the Lard Almighty?” Jake said, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Hel-uh, heck no,” I said. “I’m billing you.” 

“That isn’t really how we work” 

“It is if you want to work with me,” I told him, thrusting out my jaw. “Cough up. Otherwise, maybe next time I’ll just stand around whistling when you want me to help you out.”

Jake’s face broadened into a wide, merry grin, and laughter filled his voice. “No, you won’t” he said, and, vanished.” pg. 373 Ha and yes Harry won’t not help people 

Last Call 

Oh no Mac is hurt 

Oh no someone’s messed with Mac’s beer

Caine? Again? What is this guys problem?

Caine is the worst 

Caine attacked Murphy critical fail on Caine’s part 

“You put on a good show act, Harry. It would have fooled a lot of people. It looked…”

“Natural on me,” I said “Yeah” pg. 394 Ouch 

“I tried the door, just for the hell of it and-

It opened 

Well, dammit. I much prefer making a dramatic entrance.” pg. 420 Ha and come on let Harry have his dramatic entrance 

Oh Dionysus cool

“Then she smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed my cheek” pg. 419 Aw 

Love hurts 

“They weren’t a married couple. They were brother and sister.” pg. 423 Ick doesn’t even begin to cover the feeling I felt reading that

Oh no mental magic

“We don’t exactly have orbital satellites for detecting black magic.” pg. 426 They don’t? Then what does Gatekeeper do? I thought that was his job. How did the council find out about Harry, Justin, and Molly? Gatekeeper clearly knew black magic was afoot back in Proven Guilty. 

Oh boy is it awkward between Harry and Luccio 

Evil state fair?

Don’t be mad at Will, Harry he’s concerned about you. 

“She stopped before she could say who Kincaid was like.” pg. 436 Was she going to say Harry? 

“Murph tittered again” pg. 443 Oh no they’ve been caught 

Is it the ride itself? The ride operator? The guy trailing them? 

“I bent my head down to her mouth and kissed her gently.” pg. 445 Yay Harry/Murph moment but now isn’t the time 

“It just isn’t fucked-up enough to really be you and me” pg. 447 Ha I love this is how they realize that they’ve been whammied 

“But hey. On the other hand, he had swindled me out of swindle me out of twenty dollars.” pg. 448 Harry you bribed him 

Oh no Red court vampire 

“He’s completely irrational” pg. 452 Ha

“Mortals are like mayflies, Wizard. They live a brief time, and then they are gone.” pg. 455 Scary how some immortals view humans

I’m glad Harry and Murphy burned the belt. 

Aftermath 

“I cant believe he’s died.” pg. 463 I’m still not over it. 

“I’d been able to learn a few Martian phrases over time” pg. 466 Ha 

“Lake Michigan is jealous and protective of her dead.” pg. 466 Such a good phrase 

Poor Murphy she’s not a cop anymore and now has to deal with Harry dying 

“He always told us if we ever needed him but couldn’t find him, we were supposed to go to you. That you were the person in this city who could help us better than anyone else.” pg. 475 Aw :) 

“Georgia’s pregnant” he whispered. “Seven months.” pg. 475 Yay Georgia’s pregnant nothing bad is going to happen to her or the baby. I refuse to believe it.

“And, if things got hot when we went after the bad guy, he would have been there, throwing fire and lighting around as if they were his own personal toys, created especially and exclusively for him to play with.” pg. 485 I love how other people describe Harry. It shows how Harry is viewed through mortal eyes. Yeah it would appear like Harry like that when he starts setting things on fire with his mind essentially. 

“Watching Dresden operate was usually one of two things: mildly amusing and positively terrifying.” pg. 485 That’s quite a difference 

“Quirky nerd gone. Terrifying icon, present.” pg. 486 I wonder if Harry knows this is how people view him? I wonder if Harry knows this is how Murphy views him. 

“Seeing Dresden in action filled you with the fear that you had just become a casualty of evolution-that you were watching something far larger and infinitely more dangerous than yourself, and that your only chance of survival  was to kill it, immediately, before you were crushed beneath a power greater than you would ever know.” pg. 487 Scary and such a good quote 

“Dresden was gone. His cheesy jokes and his corny sense of humor were gone. His ability to know the unknowable, to fight the unfightable, to find the unfindable, was gone.

The rest of us were just going to have carry on as best we could without him.” pg. 488 Sobbing 

“On the other hand…maybe I just give John Marcone a call and tell him how you’re helping  some of his street-level guys run some deals behind his back.” pg. 498 Marcone mentioned! 

Hendricks!

“I had to go see “Gentleman” John Marcone.” pg. 501 YES! Let’s go Marcone :) 

“He had eyes the color of several-days-old grass clippings.” pg. 509 Interesting with how Murphy describes Marcone’s eyes vs with how Harry describes them 

“Hendricks eyed Gard 

Gard rolled her eyes and withdrew a twenty-dollar bill from her jacket pocket. She passed it to the big man.” pg. 511 Ha

“Don’t confuse yourself with Mr. Dresden, Mr. Borden,” Marcone said, his voice level and cold. His eyes were something frightening, pitiless. “You don’t have the power to threaten  me. The instant you begin to change, Ms. Gard here will fire in Ms. Murphy-and then upon you.” His voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. “The next time you offer me a threat, I will kill you.” pg. 513 Nshslsbshevakbsn I didn’t learn my lesson from last time. I choked on my drink again when I read it. I think I almost hacked up my lung. Ahhh!!! It’s so bi and Harry’s not even there. Will didn’t even threaten Marcone or at least not as much as Harry usually does. And Marcone throws a knife at him. 

“Someone is rounding up those mortals possessed of modest supernatural gifts.”

“Talent search” pg. 516 Oh no

“Someone started picking up on the little guys in town within a few hours of Dresden’s shooting.” pg. 517 Monsters closing in already 

“I’m sorry. About Dresden. He was a brave man.” pg. 518 Glad Gard said that. 

“That was when we had the nightmares.” pg.528  Ah that’s the psych/bad dreams from the end of Changes.

“Dresden hadn’t been muscled as heavily as Will. Harry’d had a runner’s build, all lean, tight, dense muscle that…” pg. 535 Murphy I see that train of thought. Good Harry/Murphy moment and Harry’s not even there. 

“I mean that if Dresden just blew up the Red Court…that means the status quo is gone. There's a power vacuum, and every spook out there is going to try a fill it. The rules have changed. We don’t know how these people are going to react.” pg. 536 Yep things are going to change now. I can’t wait to see the repercussions 

“The man had gills” pg. 552 There’s fish people? What hole in Lake Michigan did these guys crawl out? Why now after Harry’s death? As far as I know there haven’t been any fish people before. 

Such a good fight 

“Dammit, Dresden,” I said into the silence in a choked voice. “Dammit. Here I am doing your job. Dammit, dammit, dammit.” pg. 576 Sobbing some more 

“That’s formor magic,” she said quietly. “One of their lesser sorcerers and his retainers.” pg. 578 Who’s the formor? 

“This is the second time the formor have attempted to move on Chicago-and failed” 578 When was the first time? 

“My boss is always pleased to find those with proper”-she pursed lips-“frame of mind.” pg. 579 Oh Donar Vadderung/Odin is hiring? Well that’s some foreshadowing

“Was she telling the truth, you think? That Marcone’s the one standing in the gap now?” pg. 582 Yes Marcone will help out in for supernatural threats 

“The Justice League of Chicago?” 

“We’ll cover his beat.”

“Until Dresden gets back.”

“It doesn’t seem to be. But…There’s this voice inside me that keeps pointing out that we haven’t seen a body.” pg. 582 Yes can’t wait for the next book. 

Final thoughts 

I love how the story shows Harry at the beginning and how Harry met Murphy. I loved Faith. I love the interaction between Harry and Bob. I loved Billy and Georgia’s wedding. I love that Thomas being Harry’s brother is the worst kept secret. The Cobbs are wonderful. I love the bonding between Thomas and Harry. I love the Gard and Harry bonding on an adventure. No one messes with Mac’s beer. I love that Harry’s D&D character says Gard’s catchphrase. Gard clearly made an impression. I love Harry playing D&D with the alphas. Harry’s day is frankly a comedy of misadventure. I can’t believe Kirby and Andi got fleas. I’m glad Luccio took the scene well. I love how sarcastic Thomas’s narrative is. I can’t believe Thomas has magic. That’s so cool I wonder why he didn’t tell Harry. I love how much Thomas admires Harry and how protective he is of Harry. I love is how much Harry helps people without meaning to. I love that Michael is Alicia's softball coach. I can’t believe Michael swore that’s such a big deal. I can’t believe Harry offered to kill a man so Michael wouldn’t. I love that Uriel tells Harry all the lives he has helped. It’s hilarious that Harry tried to bill Uriel only Harry would try to do that. I love that even Uriel knows Harry won’t stop helping people. Wow Mac gets attacked. Interesting to see other powerful characters from other patrons. So now the Greek and Norse gods are real in this world. I wonder what others? All others? Jim just giving us Harry/Murphy then taking it away. I love how they both realize that we’re hot with the spell. Oh boy still not over Changes. Everyone is in denial about Harry including me. Yay Georgia’s pregnant! I love the different pov and how people view Harry. I love how we got different perspectives on magic and Harry from Thomas and Murphy. I loved all the Marcone stuff all of it. I love how it shows that Marcone views Harry as a worthy opponent. Now the shipper in me thinks this scene is gold. Marcone really does let Harry get away with things that he doesn’t let others like threats and backtalk. I wonder if Marcone would have hurt Will if it was Harry present and not Murphy? And Marcone even warns Harry not to test him back in Death Mask while here he only does so after he’s knifed Will. I love the dichotomy between how Murphy describes Marcone’s eyes as the color of several-days-old grass clippings vs how Harry describes Marcone’s eyes as worn dollar bills. I love how Murphy then describes Marcone’s eyes as something frightening, pitiless. Harry really was a deterrent to the evil side of the Supernatural side and now they’re coming in now that Harry’s gone. I love the Harry/Murphy moments we got in this story. I hope we learn more about the Formor. 

I’ve learned my mistake now. No more eating or drinking while reading the Dresden files. 

Onto Ghost story!

[nerves-nebula]

So I had this genius idea of making a guide on how to draw your Casey (my particular style at least)

Step 1: Draw a rectangle. It's literally that easy.

Step 2. Draw a diagonal line that is longer than the rectangle above the head. If you're drawing him the size I am here, that's about 2 fingers above. If he's bigger, choose a size that looks right to you, there's no right way to do it.

Step 3: Add a straight (lol) line on the right side of the diagonal line and a slightly crooked line on the left side.

Step 4: Try your fucking hardest to draw wavy triangles at the bottom and connect them to the rectangle. Congrats, you just finished the second hardest part and most of his hair.

Step 5: This is optional, I personally don't do it, but you can erase the top part of the rectangle to help draw the bangs easier. Cause making the bangs easy to draw saves you a lot of screaming in agony over goddamn TRIANGLES.

Step 6: Ohoho GOOD LUCK WITH THIS ONE- Draw some more wavy triangles from hell as short or as long as you want. You want him to have some face? Cool. Nothing but a mouth? Also rad.

Step 7: Shade that fucker in and give yourself some positive reward cause you're almost done!

8: Draw teeny tiny lines at the bottom of the rectangle for his beard. Then make a half moon shape to start his smile (or whatever shape gives you the emotion you want him to have). Draw a thick line somewhere in that smile (I usually go directly in the middle or close to) and give the smile some pointiness at both ends. Don't forget to add a little shading up by his hair for his acne scars (I always add those cause me too, Casey)! You are now DONE (with my version of him at least!)!!

ALSO PLEASE GIVE CREDIT TO THE ORIGINAL CREATOR, @nerves-nebula , Casey is its, not mine!

If you couldn't tell, Nerves, your boy is my newest hyperfixation (he just like me fr), so thank you for creating him and bringing him to life! ❤️❤️❤️

oh pog. its kinda interesting seein how u do it lol. here's a gif of me drawin CASEY mAH BOY real quick :)

honestly mine isnt that different from yours, i also tend to start off with the hair slant & the bottom of the face.

[zephfair]

Fic Stats Tag Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

Ah, thank you so much for tagging me @kelliealtogether because this was fascinating! I'm really shocked by how some of my stuff ranked. Thanks for making me look at the data in new ways!😘

Most Hits: Fix Me Up Good – 12,087 – When things start to go wrong in Stiles' apartment at the old Hale house, he finds out the maintenance guy is kind of hot but doesn't seem to appreciate Stiles' unique sense of humor. (omg this was just a stupid pwp I posted to prove a point to myself in the other main fandom I was in.🫣 I was going to take it down but it “took off” for me. It’s not my finest work or even my finest pwp, but it’s Teen Wolf so who cares.🤭😳)

Second Most Kudos: Will You Accept This Rose? – 796?! – When Blue is chosen as the reluctant Bachelorette, the show needs to quickly add a few contestants, just to fill out the first night's ceremony. Her new friends on the production staff are asked to help, but Ronan soon finds out he and Blue share similar taste in men. (my crack-filled baby did so well, omg, I can’t believe it! 🌹 I still re-read the scenes I loved writing the most because they make me smile.)

Third Most Comments: Bleach AU Collection – 55 – A compilation of all the Bleach fics I'm writing for the 30-Day AU Challenge on Tumblr. They're mostly fluff and humor with a dose of smut here and there between Grimmjow and Ichigo. (Ironic, really, because no one read or commented on my Bleach stuff while I was writing and posting it, so I just gave up writing for Bleach (and stopped fanfic writing for 3 years) because I’m obviously a horrible writer and/or really terrible at characterizations. So yeah. Weird that it’s gotten this many comments over the years. 🤷)

Fourth Most Bookmarks: Familiarity Breeds Contempt (and Affection) – 181 – In a world of magic, Ichigo cannot become a full mage without successfully summoning his familiar. But when it does appear, it's nothing like the lovable animal familiars everyone else bonds with. (Another Bleach fic that got almost zero interaction when I posted it.)

Fifth Most Words: Treasure in Clay Vessels – 22,003 – Pope Sixtus is so concerned with taking over Florence that he sends two spies to infiltrate the Medici family, but the new war engineer will only choose to get close to one of them. Girolamo must forget he is a Riario to play his role, but temptations threaten to steal him away for good. (Da Vinci’s Demons was the best tiny fandom ever and gave writers/creators such lovely interactions. This was one of my baby works, a real labor of love, and I’m still proud of it.😊)

Least Amount of Words: Clothes Make the Man – 2,182 – Zo's T-shirt was supposed to be a gag Christmas gift, but if he's lucky, it might predict the future. (Da Vinci’s Demons. Ha, even in a teeny, tiny fandom, I still wrote a lot of crack and weird pairings.😜)

I'm going to tag @iammistressofmyfate and @mychemicalrachel if you lovelies want to do it! No pressure!

[eclairfair98]

I just wanted to say I’ve kept up with your fic rather religiously and it’s one of my absolute favorites to the point where I refused to read the final chapter until I re-read the whole thing. What a beautiful story you created. You have a gift.

Hii, marisatomay, I’d like to start off by apologising for how long it took me to get around to answering your ask 🙈❤️ (was trying to figure out what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it, sorry X’D), and thanking you for all your love and support!! 👐🏼🌻 This fic’s the first thing I’ve written written since my 12th grade grammar exam (I think I wrote a 500-word picture-composition on a black-and-white photo of two kids playing in the rain, if I’m not mistaken 😂), and many drafts later, it’s still riddled with little-big mistakes (am planning on doing a final round of edits to flesh out/improve some of the things I wanna work on in the earlier chapters, before I bid farewell to these characters for good 🤞🏼). Which is why, I’m so grateful and pleased that you’d consider my work to be one of your favourites :’) Really, you’re too kind, thank you so much!! ❤️🫂

Now, I must confess, that I do have some residual guilt with regards to the story 🙈 I wrote omegaverse ‘cause I wanted to explore the socio-cultural implications of this made-up biology (a teeny-tiny difference in a chromosome somewhere in an individual’s genotype, that results in a difference in their phenotype), that ends up determining a person’s place in society (a reflection of our world, only much darker, with explicitly discriminative policies/laws still in place in the 21st century)? I set out to tell a story about two people who grow up wanting more or less the same things (to serve their country, and honour their fathers’ legacies — whatever that means to them, individually), who were then offered vastly different opportunities by their world. And while Tom and Pete started their journey with us on a very unequal footing, I’d promised myself that they’d end it, as equals. I worked to that end with the constitutional amendment, and universal suffrage, and the honest conversation they had about the state of their marriage. But somewhere along the way, I realised that their past really does cast long shadows, that I can’t resolve all of their issues, tie everything up in a neat little bow at the end. And it occurred to me, that I had to be okay with that.

There’s a book called Sapiens, in which the author talks about how (I’m paraphrasing here) everything that isn’t a scientifically-proven fact, is a myth. How the sharing of collective myths (capitalism, money, nation, God), has helped shape the foundations of human civilisation. And that’s something something that really stuck with me, ‘cause if that’s true, then maybe we owe it to ourselves, to the world, to tell the right stories, to believe in the right myths? I’m not saying that every story should have a moral or a message (‘cause that’s just not true; people write to have fun, and what can be more justified than making yourself feel good with a creative outlet that also gives other people joy?) I guess, I’m just saying that I would’ve liked to tell a story with a better, more definitive message? My Tom and Pete are far from perfect people, and their relationship is flawed, as well (in some ways, all of their problems are present from the very beginning). The optimism they have for their future, doesn’t match up to their reality. Fate leads them down different roads, and although their intentions are pure, they do end up hurting the people they love. They’re not soulmates. They’re not ‘made for each other’. There’s a chance that they’d have had happier ‘easier’ lives with different partners. That they wouldn’t have made the same choices had their circumstances been different. But, they’re both inherently good people who keep trying to work on their relationship, to find common ground. To choose love and hope. To be better for each other. And I guess, therein lies their (and my own) saving grace… :’) ❤️

[myreia]

13, 18, 29?

Ahh, thanks Viking! Sorry these took so long to get to, they’re from an age ago ahahaha.

— 13. a fandom you’re thinking about writing for?

None other than FFXIV. My original work occupies a really big place in my head and I only have a teeny tiny sliver of room for fanfic and hobby writing. Aur's stealing the show for now and I think it will probably stay that way for a while.

— 18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

Recently had to cut this since I changed the blocking. 🙃

Aureia seats herself on a wooden post and crosses her legs, ankles together. On impulse, she tugs her hair free from its braid and lets it fly, enjoying the way the wind tugs at it. The sea swirls before her, its undulating patterns of turquoise, green and purple never quite the same colour. It’s comforting, in a strange way—how certain it is in its uncertainty. Though her heart still pounds, restless and anxious, being here in the heat of the sun and the joyful fury of the wind is calming in a way the cold peace of the Waking Sand’s underground solar could never be.

— 29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

Pretty easy? It doesn’t take me too long since I don’t usually title my writing projects until they’re finished, so I’ve had a lot of time to have the themes of the piece roll around in my head. I have a few strategies I use for titling too, but most of the time I just jot down a shortlist and then choose whichever one I gravitate towards. Sometimes I like what I come up with, sometimes it’s ehhh, but a title is a title, I try not to fuss too much over it.

Occasionally I need a working title (not really applicable to fic, but applicable to other things). But I do think using working titles can be helpful if you’re struggling because it takes the pressure off of finding the right title in the moment. Just be careful because usually the working title is the one that sticks. 🤣

I like titles. I will title everything. Work title, part title, chapter title, everything needs a title. They’re fun to me!  

[fic writer asks]

[safetycar-restart]

You mentioned 💧💧 so… (a driver of your choice*) has a small bladder and they always struggle on long flights/drives or when they’re tired remembered to go to the toilet and sometimes they get very desperate. As they’re Dom/mommy you always remind them to go pee, but sometimes they don’t make it and have accidents and you look after them afterwards. At a point you diaper them when you know they might going to struggle not to have an accident. The driver ends up loving the feeling of wearing a diaper and having you look after them.

*Thought it would be fun to let you choose!

** English is not my first language I hope this is written okay!

Ooo okay okay. So this concept could obviously work with Charles (and I would happily discuss it with Charles) but here me out…. Nyck!!!

I think that 1) nyck has a teeny tiny bladder. He is a teeny tiny lil dude and he drinks an astonishing amount of water and coffee a day and those two things simply don’t work very well. But also, I think that when nyck focuses on something, he struggles to do anything else?

So he’ll be focused on training, or on a movie, or even just on a conversation with you and he’ll forget everything else. Which has lead to near accidents so many times.

It actually gets worse when you start the bdsm aspects of your relationship with him. You and him start having periods where he just exercise or works or cuddles up to you where you’ve in charge of everything else, so you make his food or order it, you decide when he drinks his water, when he showers, when he changes clothes, etc.

This makes nyck start slipping into that headspace whenever he’s with you for a while? Like his mind just goes “I’m with my dom!!” And then shuts off all multitasking capabilities because his Dom is there to help!!

And you don’t mind helping at all, you’d happily make sure he eats and sleeps and whatnot. But the thing both of you forget about is going to the bathroom. You just assume that nyck will do that on his own.

And well…. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even think of it, because he’s so relaxed and focused on one thing and he’s not at all paying attention to what his body is telling him. Until suddenly he’s leaked a little and then he snaps out of it and all the desperation comes coursing through his veins.

More than once he’s ended up in a panic, realising there’s no way in hell he’s making it to a bathroom in time and he just has no idea what to do with himself. So naturally he calls you, whining and shaking and trying desperately not to have an accident and just having no idea what to do.

Both times that’s happened he’s ended up having an accident, because he just couldn’t get to the bathroom in time. You cleaned it up both times, then also cleaned him up and praised him and promised you weren’t mad, letting him curl up in your arms and forehead kisses and cuddles.

You start to help him more then, reminding him to go and he’s always so thankful for it. He also feels so good whenever you remind him? Cause his Dom is looking after him!!

You suggest the diapers for a long drive the two of you were doing to the next race. He’s hesitant about it, but he also can’t deny that it would help. And yeah he ends up loving it.

However he only does that with you. He never puts on or changes his own diaper. He just…. No. No no. He can’t do that. You just do it for him.

Just… nyck wondering around the house on a Sunday morning in a diaper and an oversized sweater, sipping on a cup of tea you made him without a care in the world.