#then she sent me a photo of our friend and he looked dumb

[nockstormbringer]

My friend lost my AirPods at our Year 10 Camp as we were leaving 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Oh well, I’ve had them for 3 years and I’m honestly surprised I didn’t lose them sooner

[yanderenightmare]

part one

TW: nsfw, dubcon, blackmail

fem reader

As promised, you receive the pictures in the mail while the payment is forwarded almost emmidiatly. You don’t know which makes you gawk more, the photos of you or the numbers.

You also get an email—an invitation. The photographer is asking you to dinner. Or, asking is putting it nicely—which he most certainly didn’t. It’s phrased like a notice from your boss—matter-of-factly, he’s picking you up at eight, wear something nice.

You think about declining, but then you think about your friend again and how you don’t want to cause her any trouble. A free dinner isn’t really all that bad, is it?

It’s worse, actually.

“You should have told me you didn’t have anything to wear. I would have lent you something,” is the first thing he says when you get in his car. He hadn’t opened the door for you or anything, just sat in the driver’s seat waiting.

And though your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you think you’re foolish for it. You hadn't really dressed to impress him, after all—something you might as well tell him, “Maybe I just didn’t feel like dressing up. You didn’t exactly leave a good impression last time we met, so I don’t believe I owe you anything.”

He scoffs with a grin—face turned towards the road as he starts driving. “You have a lot more bite without your friend.”

“She has too much respect for you.” You cross your arms and look out the window. 

“That’s for sure.” You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t offer any more of a response. You’re glad to spend the rest of the drive in silence.

You feel underdressed at the restaurant. You hadn’t thought he’d take you somewhere so nice. Most of the other couples there are dressed as if for a gala, while you’re dressed as if you’re going to an office party.

He hasn’t tried too hard himself. But still, he fits in—fat watch on his wrist, kempt hair, neat shoes, dress trousers, and a silk shirt with one too many buttons undone—a nauseating skinny chain beneath the collar as well as the hint of a chest tattoo. You bet it’s one of those dumb tribal inks, probably with some mundane Japanese characters he doesn’t know the meaning of.

“Is this where you undermine all the models desperate for your recognition?” you sigh as you sit down.

“We haven't even gotten our menus, and you’re already causing a scene?” 

He’s the one who was rude the moment you got in the car. In fact, he was rude the minute you met him. “Might as well speed this along.”

He chuckles—his smile genuinely amused instead of angered the way you’d imagined—the way you’d remembered from last time when he sent girls crying. “You know, for a face like that, you have one hell of a tongue.”

He orders wine by the name with ease and swiftness before returning to what he was saying.

“I like that. Most models are dull, but not you.”

“I don’t agree. And I’m a model,” you snip, showing no interest in his flirting.

 “No? Didn’t you see the pictures?” Your attitude doesn’t seem to deter him—rather, it only seems to egg him further on. “I have them all mounted on my walls at home—you should come see.”

This makes you falter. Looking at him from across the table with rounded eyes. “On your walls?”

“Framed.” He smiles, finally having broken through—he only intends to take it further. Not that what he was saying wasn’t true. “I just couldn’t help myself. I consider it my best work.” 

The look on your face is something between disgusted and uncertain—speechless in a sense.

It makes him laugh again. “Does anything flatter you?”

The wine comes. He’s poured a glass for testing.

“Not when spoken by men like you.”

His grin grows as he swirls the liquid around, smelling it like a phony.

“That’s a shame,” he says before taking a sip. He nods to the waiter, and you’re poured a similar glass. Meanwhile, he looks at you. “I’d like to flatter you—I’d like to spoil you even. You seem like you deserve it.”

You sip your glass. “No need.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You currently work at a diner, right?”

You gaze at him from atop your glass, brows furrowing. “How do you—”

“I didn’t.” It’s a lie, of course, he’d searched you up and gone over every little detail he could find. “It’s clear from the looks of you—”

“Fuck you,” you snap, putting your glass down a bit too harshly, enough to make a little wine slip and spill.

He doesn’t mind it. “Oh, I want you to,” he says instead. “After I pay for dinner and drive you back. We can fuck right under my favorite portrait of you.”

You’re stunted by his crude words, but only for a second. “How about we skip dinner, and you go fuck yourself.” 

His smile doesn’t drop, even as you get up to leave. “Settle down, sweetheart.”

“Make me, jackass.” 

You’re on your way to go, but his next words have you halting. 

“Either you humor me, or I make sure your friend never models in the country again.”

You turn around to look at him. You don’t really know why you’re so surprised. The card he just pulled is the very reason you agreed to the dinner in the first place. But an incentive is very different from outright blackmail, and suppose you just hadn’t really believed he’d take it that far.

“It’s my impression you don’t want that,” he continues.

You sit back down. He tops your glass off.

“I could make her big, you know?” he offers while pouring for himself as well. “Really speed her career along—set her up for life. I’ll do the same for you, too, of course.” 

He swirls his wine, lifting it as if to make a toast.

“And all you gotta do is come back home with me.”

You don’t have the words.

“You won’t be disappointed,” he promises. “I’m good at it.” As if that’s your concern. “You’ll never want to fuck anyone else again.”

You hate how right he is. 

You’ve never cum sooner or harder before in your life, not with anyone else or on your own. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—so good, you’re screaming—moaning out in echoes throughout his giant penthouse, bouncing off the marble floors into all unlocked rooms, creating a cacophony of your undeniable pleasure.

He’s on his knees beneath you as you lean with your back against the window overlooking the city, barely able to stand as he buries his face between your soft thighs, canting his chin up while lapping hard at your slit and clit. His hard stare set on your face and the way you throw your head back while cumming in his mouth—your hand tussled in his hair, yanking on it hard enough to make him growl.

Your legs and feet give you little support. It's his hands that keep you up as you slide further and further down the floor-to-ceiling window until you’re almost about ready to drop your weight completely.

But he’s made you come undone three times by then, and just can’t wait any longer. 

He’s spun you around before you know it, making you face the pretty lights of the city skyline—his mouth hot on the shell of your ear, “I told you so, didn’t I?”

Your breath fogs the glass with your panting—knees wobbly, only standing thanks to the thick arms he’s got supporting you, each with a tit in their hand, giving them rough squeezes as he starts pounding away at your womb—hard enough to make the city lights blend in with the stars. 

“You won’t wanna fuck anyone else again.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Oikawa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[55sturn]

✮ I’M A LOSER BABY SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME HCS

synopsis: in which i give you headcanons about our favourite complicated “ couple. “

pairing: loser!chris sturniolo x mean girl!reader

disclaimers: mentions of drugs [ both mild and hard ], mentions of sex, angst, swearing, the whole nine yards.

✮ mean girl!y/n who keeps a secret collection of chris’ clothes tucked away in a box in her closet, she pulls it out after every fight they have and falls asleep in at least one article of his clothing.

✮ loser!chris who keeps a picture of reader in his wallet, it’s of her getting ready for one of her family’s parties, she had sent it to him on snap and he screenshotted it and printed it out.

✮ mean girl!y/n who has harboured a crush on chris since their first meeting in the high school hallway.

✮ loser!chris who, surprisingly, doesn’t text nearly as much as y/n does, he prefers talking over facetime or phone call because he adores her voice.

✮ mean girl!y/n who needs to fall asleep on the phone with chris if, for whatever reason, she can’t get to his place or wherever he’s crashing for the night, and this still happens even when they’re mad at each other, it’ll be tense and awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but they still fall asleep on the phone together nonetheless.

✮ loser!chris who is smarter than he seems, he’s good at reading people, after years of dealing drugs and running product to sketchy people in even sketchier areas of town, he can figure out when someone is or isn’t who they’re pretending to be, and he can figure out their motives from a mile away. he doesn’t let on that he’s good at reading people and he lets people believe he’s dumb as rocks, because it tends to give him the upper hand when he needs it.

✮ mean girl!y/n who is actually very intelligent in her field of interest and major, which happens to be business & management, and she discreetly takes online courses, but she doesn’t let people know.

✮ loser!chris who is actually a major film and photography geek. he spent a lot of time with nick in the photo lab and joined him on any photography projects nick took after school. and he also enrolled in film courses when he finally decides to go back to get his diploma, and ends up going to community college, which grants him the opportunity to start filming and doing videography for his friends in the music industry. [ future concept ]

✮ mean girl!y/n who helped out at the humane society on weekends early in the mornings during high school. it’s how she adopted her french bulldog named mocha, but she claims to have bought her from a prestigious breeder her family knew [ she doesn’t support breeders or puppy farms, but to maintain her higher status image, she went with a lie that her family and friends would accept ]

✮ loser!chris who has a journal filled with pictures he and y/n took together, alongside little writings about each picture, pages with dreams about her, stories about her, and every single thing he knows about her.

✮ mean girl!y/n who talked horribly about chris to her friends, in front of him, at the first party they hooked up at. it was after they hooked up, and her friends had noticed their state and the fact they had come down sort of at the same time and joked about them hooking up.

✮ loser!chris who has two cats, an orange cat with bright green eyes named matcha and a calico cat with blue eyes named spot. he “ adopted” them both with y/n, [ realistically he was skateboarding home from a deal ( both times ) and they followed him home, ] and y/n named them.

✮ mean girl!y/n who frequently dates guys of the same status as her to appease the gated community she lives in. it breaks chris’ heart every time, but she tries so hard not to give into what her heart is telling her to do.

✮ loser!chris who genuinely can’t wait for the nights he and y/n agree to spend together, he doesn’t do much aside from dealing, working at the skate shop, and partying. he looks forward to spending time with y/n more than anything, in his mind, despite how toxic and unhealthy it may be for him because he knows that she’s only using him, any sort of time and moments spent with her, is better than nothing at all.

✮ mean girl!y/n who actually gets excited every time she agrees to spend the night with chris, she fools herself into thinking it’s because she’s getting dick and drugs, while ignoring the true reason why.

✮ loser!chris who helps out at the local homeless shelter, secretly paying his dues to the kind owner that helped him out when he couldn’t keep couch surfing.

✮ mean girl!y/n who regularly donates whatever she can to the homeless shelter, under either a fake name or anonymity.

✮ loser!chris who hates homemade chicken noodle soup unless it’s made by his mom.

✮ mean girl!y/n who has a deep love for mary-lou, and has a tendency to turn to her about things she’s uncomfortable telling her step-mom.

✮ loser!chris who is extremely close with karina, y/n’s closest friend, after he was recommended to her by y/n.

✮ mean girl!y/n who hates the texture of pickles, but orders them on all her burgers because she loves the taste and will pick them off.

✮ loser!chris who will eat the pickles even though he’s not the biggest fan of them, because he knows that she hates wasting food.

✮ mean girl!y/n who actually isn’t mean at all once you get to know her beneath the surface, she just keeps up the persona and image she developed in high school because it got her places and she’s actually just a deeply scarred and insecure girl who is scared to lose her status and has never healed from the things she’s dealt with.

✮ loser!chris who see a future with y/n, and decides to tell her one night, they’re bother fully sober, and it just slips past his lips.

✮ mean girl!y/n who panics when she’s hears this and tells chris that she doesn’t want that, that she doesn’t want a future together, and chris kicks her out, telling her they’re done because he can’t keep waiting for her.

✮ loser!chris who spirals after breaking up with y/n officially, and gets himself back into dealing, but this time it doesn’t go as smoothly as it had in his past, to the point where he gets into a physical fight with his supplier, and even lands himself in jail after being caught with a kilo of coke, and he thinks that this is it for him, that he’s stuck there for the foreseeable future, but the judge somehow, some fucking way, for whatever reason, decides to grant chris a pardon, with the condition of bail and community service.

✮ mean girl!y/n who pays chris’ bail, dropping the money without hesitation, and she steps into the cop shop with an irritated sigh, and when chris turns the corner, she’s stomping up to him and shoving him back before pulling him into a rough kiss before saying “if you wanted me back, you could’ve fucking said so instead of landing yourself behind bars, again, you idiot.”

STARS CORNER finally some loser!chris content, also some clarification, this type of “loser” is based off the loser guys i went to high school with and dated myself, it’s not based off the geeky type of loser obvs.

[kirikiss]

Denki's Shocking First Date!

ϟ Where dumb and dumber go out on a first date. What could go wrong?

ϟWarnings: None!

ϟ fluff, x reader, written with the reader as she/her.

ϟ Story under the cut, enjoy ;)

You and Denki met the summer after graduation and immediately clicked. He was an interesting guy who fell over himself trying to impress you, and honestly, you found that endearing. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with him. You were out on a walk in the park together, discussing possible locations for your first date, and you suggested an aquarium. He was wary but eventually agreed. You didn’t know why he was so nervous. What could he be afraid of? Some fish? You shrugged this off, thinking he was just nervous for your first official date. Once he dropped you off at home, he immediately texted his friends.

Denki: Guys, guys, guys, help me!

Sero: What’s up?

Kirishima: What’s wrong bro?

Denki: You know y/n, right? The girl I met while on patrol that I was telling you about? Well, we were talking about where to go for our first date, and she wanted to go to the aquarium.

Bakugo: LOL

Denki:  …

Kirishima: Uh oh.

Sero: So did you say yes or no?

Denki: Well, she seemed very adamant about it.

*Mina joined the chat.*

Mina: AWEEE

Sero: Where did you come from?

Mina: It doesn’t matter. Anyways, if you truly like her and you see your relationship taking off, then I say suck it up and go. It shouldn't be that much of a risk if you just avoid the touch tanks. 

Denki: You’re right. I’ll go with her; she seems so excited about it.

Bakugo: This is going to be an electrifying date.

*Denki removed Bakugo from the chat.*

Denki was busy prepping for the date. He created an itinerary for the two of you to enjoy. First, you two would look at the cute fish they keep in the front, then go to the penguin enclosure, then move to the hippo enclosure. After that, you’d visit the shark tunnel, where he would make sure to grab a photo for Kirishima. He would end the day by taking you to the back of the aquarium where they keep the “ugly” fish. ‘How romantic! She will love it!!’ he thought to himself. He wrote everything down in his notes and sent a picture of it to the group chat to get their opinions.

*Kirishima added Bakugo to the chat.*

Denki: Sent attachment.

Denki: How does this look?

Sero: This is all over the place.

Mina: Did you seriously put down ‘take her to the back to see the ugly fish’? Please tell me you’re joking. That sounds like a threat!

Bakugo: You probably sat down and wrote this with a straight face.

Bakugo: Then you had the nerve to send that crap?

Bakugo: You gotta be kidding me.

Kirishima: Dude, you just gotta go with the flow. Don’t be so stressed and see where the day takes you.

Denki: Thanks for the advice, guys. One more question.

Denki: Should I bring my rubber gloves? Better safe than sorry, right? :D

*Bakugo removed themself from the chat.*

Today was the big day, date day! Denki was surprisingly not nervous; he was excited to see you. You were supposed to meet up at the aquarium cafe right out front, and that’s the exact place he was standing. Smack dab in the middle of the cafe in everyone’s way, waiting with a giant smile on his face. He didn’t want to show up empty-handed, so he picked up some chocolates for you. You finally arrived, smiling just as wide. Denki put on his best romantic voice to try to flatter you. “Chocolates for you, my dear.” He sounded so stupid, but it made you laugh. You made your way to the entrance of the aquarium, where you were greeted by the jellyfish. You had a thought. “You know, these jellyfish kind of remind me of you. It’s not the lack of a brain or backbone, but the fact that jellyfish are enchanting in their simplicity and grace that they don’t even know how beautiful they are.” While some might take offense at the first part of that sentence, Denki chose to have selective hearing at that moment. Only the most important words stuck out to him. This made a spark escape from his fingertips. ‘I should’ve bought the gloves,’ he muttered under his breath.

The date was going so well. You stopped at a few more enclosures and took a few photos together to commemorate your first date.

*Mina added Bakugo to the chat.*

Denki: Sent attachment.

Mina: OMG! YOU GUYS LOOK SO CUTE AHSJWNEDOWJWNV

Sero: How’s the date going?

Denki: It’s going so well :D. You know what she told me? She said I was as enchanting as a jellyfish.

Mina: OMGOMGOMG

Bakugo: Lame.

Kirishima: Don’t leave your lady hanging. Go and enjoy the rest of your date, bro!

Denki closed his phone and looked back at you as you intently stared at the seahorses. “Oh my gosh, this one is preg—” You started to exclaim but were abruptly cut off by a staff member. “How would you two like complimentary tickets to the aquarium water show?” You immediately said yes. “How amazing is this! Front row splash zone tickets, can this day get any better?!” Denki knew that this was a risk he absolutely should not take, but seeing how happy this made you, he couldn’t refuse. All he had to do was stay as dry as possible. The things people do for love…

“Wow, that was awesome! The seals were so cute!!! There were so many of them too!” All Denki could do was nod to your words. “I can't believe they trained each one of them to splash the front row. That was such a cute touch. Maybe a bit excessive though, right? It seemed like they had a vendetta the way they were splashing you.” Denki nodded again, soaked head to toe. “Hey, you know, I think today was awesome! Are you ready to head out?” Denki was eager to leave; he was basically a ticking time bomb. He just had to be careful not to activate his quirk. Easy enough, right? “Yeah, I’m about finished here, but there is one more place I want to go. Let’s go to the touch tanks!” Denki let out a nervous laugh. “The touch t-tanks? Yeah, let’s go!” He was hoping she would forget about that. Denki estimated they wouldn’t be there for more than five minutes; what’s the harm in entertaining you for a bit more?

You happily made your way over while Denki trailed behind you. “Look how adorable!! It says this tank is filled with rescued sea creatures. Isn’t that nice?” The worker overheard your conversation with Denki. “These sea critters are cute, aren’t they? They were saved from animal testing by a big skincare company that was interested in coming up with a new fad similar to snail mucin. Who even came up with that idea anyway? Well, they finally have a safe home with us; nothing can harm them anymore!” The worker said this while holding up a starfish, petting its back. He handed it to Denki to observe. “Oh wow, I don’t think it’s the best idea to give this little guy to me. Let me just put him back down.” Denki’s hands started to lower into the pool of water to gently release the starfish back to its home. While Denki’s hand was descending, you started petting the starfish on its way down. “You know, I really like you, Denki. Would you be interested in going on a second date with me?” By that time, Denki and your hands were fully submerged. The sound of you saying his name was so foreign, but he liked it. He was surprised that you were using his first name AND that you wanted a second date. So surprised, he didn’t notice his quirk accidentally activated. ‘SCORE!’ he thought to himself as he was conjuring up a reply. Your face suddenly dropped. ‘How did I mess it up? I didn’t even say anything.’ Denki followed your line of sight and knew exactly why your face was like that. All of the animals in the touch tank were floating.

Bakugo: Sent link - Rookie Hero Chargebolt Under Fire for Killing a Tank Full of Rescue Animals at Local Aquarium.

Bakugo: LOLLLL DUMBASS

Kirishima: Oh my god.

Sero: YIKES.

Mina: Denki, what did I tell you…

*Denki removed themself from the chat.*

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 7)

6.5k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, slut-shaming and double standards, misogynist graffiti, pining, angst

Series Masterlist

I passed by that sign every day on my way to the Dog Track. Normally, it gave me a surge of pride when I saw it, this reminder of something I felt so proud and honored to be part of. But now, with those blood-red letters, it made my already broken heart die a little more.

It wasn’t as if this kind of treatment was new. Whenever my teams didn’t perform as well as expected or hoped for, suddenly we weren’t talented. Or we were dumb bitches. Or we were all on our periods. Not like when the men underperformed; then it was every excuse in the book from the horrible refs to the weather to their kitman used the wrong detergent that week.

But unlike all those other times, now I had actually done something to earn this treatment.

It wasn’t like I regretted sleeping with Roy. It was nice. He was nice. And if he was any other guy with any other job and any other reputation, I’d probably consider repeating the encounter. A few times, actually. But those ugly red letters reminded me of why it was one of the stupidest things I’d ever done.

“Come on,” Lucas urged, placing a hand on my arm. “Don’t want to be late.”

Don’t want to be late. Ha. More like don’t want to go to work today. Don’t want to face everyone at Nelson Road. Don’t want to be seen in public.

Don’t want to see Roy Kent.

Of course, I couldn’t avoid any of those things, thanks to the text Rebecca had sent me the night before, the text where she sent me that stupid, stupid article and told me to go straight to her office in the morning. Lucas and I wordlessly parted ways so he could go prepare for training while I trudged up to Rebecca’s office.

I stared at the door when I arrived upstairs. I wasn’t sure if I should knock. Or head in. Or turn around, run home, and pack my suitcase to head back to the States. Just as I was pondering the consequences of that last one, someone cleared their throat behind me.

And I’d have known that sound anywhere.

Roy’s eyes were pained when I turned to look at him. Mine were probably the same.

“Alright?” Before I could figure out an answer, he grimaced. “Fuck. Stupid fucking question.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “I… It’s just… fuck.” His voice was that low, angry growl he used to use when we fought.

Never thought I’d miss fighting with Roy Kent.

The door opening caused me to jump, sending me a step closer to Roy, narrowly avoiding bumping into him. Rebecca’s face was stony as she looked us over, perfectly pink lips in a straight line. Her eyes, though, were soft, full of pity, especially when she caught sight of the miserable expression I assumed I wore.

“Best come in,” she murmured, nodding towards her office. She shut the door behind us, watching Roy and me carefully as we all took the seats around her desk. She leaned her elbows on her desk, eyes darting back and forth between Roy and myself. Finally, she opened her mouth. “I know that as your boss, it truly isn’t my business,” she started slowly. “But, considering the publicity that comes with your jobs, we should all agree on the best course of action. Now, as your friend, you don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We slept together.”

Roy’s mouth fell open as he stared at me, as if he couldn’t believe I’d said it so plainly. Rebecca simply raised her eyebrows at me.

I shrugged, forcing myself to look Roy in the eye. “What? Why deny anything? It’s what happened.” I turned back to Rebecca. “If they already have those pictures, there’s no use pretending. It’ll make us look pathetic if we try to lie. So unless you want us to deny anything happened, and then get caught in the lie when our stories don’t match, or they come up with photos of me leaving Kent’s place in the morning, let’s stick to the truth.” I let out a deep breath. “Kent and I slept together. It was consensual. We were both single at the time. The end.”

Rebecca cleared her throat. “Well. And, just for the sake of transparency between the three of us, was this a one-time thing? Or is this a regular occurrence?”

“A one-time thing,” I immediately replied, not looking at Roy. “That’s all.”

“Right.” Rebecca’s eyes flashed to Roy before returning to me. “I’ll call Keeley. We’ll work on a game plan, keep an eye on the headlines.” She sighed. “I’d love to say this’ll blow over in a day or so but… considering who you are-” She nodded to Roy. “-and the… uniqueness of your position-” She gestured towards me. “-this will probably be something we’ll be hearing about for a bit. Especially in the local press.” She shook her head. “Neither of you deserve this, of course. Believe me, I know quite a bit about how you feel, although I’m sure it’s no consolation.” She offered me a sad smile. “Why don’t you head on down to your team? I’m sure they’re anxious to see how you’re doing.”

I stood, not needing an excuse to get out of that room. With nothing but a small nod to Rebecca, I turned and did my best not to sprint out of the room, desperate to get away from those sad brown eyes.

~

Rebecca stared at Roy as they listened to the door close, leaving the two of them alone. It had been a while since they’d had a proper chat, just the two of them, but it seemed that Rebecca was still an expert in making Roy squirm with just a quirked eyebrow.

“One-time thing?”

“Hmmph.” Roy slouched in his chair and crossed his arms, wondering how long Rebecca would keep him in her office.

She tilted her head, pity evident on her face. “You… you don’t want it to be a one-time thing, do you Roy?”

Roy let out a growl of a sigh. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want,” he murmured. “It’s about her. This is her reputation, her career they’re fucking with. It’s different for her than for me. I need to respect what she wants.”

Rebecca’s face crumpled, her heart breaking at the pain she could see on her dear friend’s face. No amount of pep talks could help him now. At least, not one from her.

“I’m sorry, Roy,” was all she could manage. “I’m truly sorry.”

Feeling that this was enough of a dismissal, he stood and waved absently as he left her office. He slogged down to the changing room, where the Greyhounds were changing, their conversations much quieter than he was used to. That low chattering came to a stop the moment he entered the room, confirming that the guys had indeed been talking about him. He sighed and closed the door to the office, wanting a moment with just his team.

“Alright,” he started, gaze on the ceiling before looking at the fellas. “So, I’m sure you’ve all seen those stupid fucking photos. We’re not talking about that shit because it’s no one’s fucking business, and it was vile for someone to publish them. I hear any of you mention that shit, you’re suspended, because it’ll be hard to play with broken legs.” His voice lowered as he took in the faces of the Greyhounds- sadness, disgust, pity, anger. He knew his threats weren’t necessary, but he needed to feel like he was doing something. “And if any one of you breathes a fucking word of this to any of the Whippets or Coach Buck, you’ll be off this fucking team, and I will make it my personal mission to keep you out of the Premier League for the rest of your fucking life. Understand?”

After a moment of silence, Isaac stood up from his perch on the bench. “No one talks to the press,” he commanded. “Tell them they can fuck right off with their bullshit. We don’t condone this invasion of privacy or the misogyny they’re hurling at Coach Buck. We support her, and we support the Whippets, alright?”

Sam nodded. “We’ve got your back, Roy. Every single one of us. We all agree that this is disgusting.”

“Is she okay?” Jamie slouched in the corner of the changing room, looking at Roy as if the manager was an injured puppy.

Roy stared at Jamie, the striker’s timid voice ringing in his ears. Finally, he cleared his throat and yanked open his office door. “Weight room in five,” he barked. “Time to get to work.”

~

The Whippets were already on the field when I finally joined Lucas on the sideline. My walk from Rebecca’s office to the pitch was torture; no one would look me in the eye, a far cry from the wide smiles and waves I received walking through the Dog Track after each Whippet victory.

Lucas watched me carefully as I took my place beside him, tugging the sleeves of my Richmond jacket over my hands. The team slowed when they saw me but continued their drill; surely Lucas had spoken to them while I was upstairs.

“Bring them in,” I murmured, tugging the baseball hat I wore over my eyes.

“You don’t have to-”

I shook my head. “Bring them in.”

At the sound of the whistle, the Whippets jogged over, clustering around us with wide eyes and concerned frowns. I held their gazes, refusing to let my face tilt downwards. Once they were all together and quiet, I opened my mouth.

“We’re a team,” I started slowly. “And teams are built on trust and honesty. So, I’m not going to play pretend with you ladies. There’s photos, of me. And Coach Kent.” Some of the girls exchanged glances, but no one looked too shocked; they’d surely all already seen them. “Nothing scandalous, just us going into his house after the charity gala. But people can connect the dots. And people are starting to say shit about me.” I cleared my throat. “But my priority is you. The Whippets. So, let’s just keep our heads in the game, play the Richmond way, and be the team I know we are. Good deal?”

Kira Malone spoke up first. “We got you, Coach.”

The wholehearted murmurs of agreement finally had the lump in my throat threatening to turn into tears. “Thank you, Captain. Appreciate it.” I turned to Lucas, not trusting myself to look at the team for another moment. “Coach?”

Immediately, Lucas was calling for the ladies to return to training, which they promptly did. Once they were out of earshot, I let out the shaky breath I’d been holding. Lucas reached out and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

“We’ve got you.”

As much as I’d dreaded coming to work, I had to admit it was kind of nice having something to focus my energy and attention on. It was nice thinking about something other than headlines saying things like “America’s Sweet-Tart Scores with Kent” or “He’s Here, He’s There, He’s Every-f*cking-where- including Coach Buck’s Bed!” I wasn’t sure what was worse: the headlines that screamed my name, or the headlines that didn’t bother giving me one.

It was evening when I got a text from George letting me know he’d be picking me up in five. He’d been great about the whole thing; we were having drinks when I got Rebecca’s text alerting me to the photos. He immediately offered to take me home and didn’t mind when I told him I wanted to be alone- which really meant I wanted to call Lucas and sit numbly in my best friend’s arms for an hour.

I gathered my things, looking forward to the relaxing night of movies and takeout George had offered to help take my mind off things. He really was the nicest guy I’d ever gone out with, really respectful and polite. The kind of guy who’d have my parents thrilled. The kind of guy who’d happily sit in the stands and watch my games. The kind of guy who made me feel comfortable and safe.

“Oi.”

That voice had me stopping dead in my tracks as I stepped into the parking lot. Roy Kent walked over from his car, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes scanning my face for any sign of whether or not I was going to run away from him. It was definitely a tempting option.

“So,” he started once he’d reached me, “I… I told my guys they’re not to say a fucking word about anything. Not to each other, not to the press, not to you. They’re idiots, but they’re not stupid.” He stared at me, his jaw clenched. “I… I am really fucking sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing,” I murmured, clutching my bag tightly. “You did nothing wrong, Kent.”

He nodded, as if he was trying to convince himself. “I know. Neither did you.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, that night was-”

“Ready to go?”

While Roy was talking to me, George’s car had pulled up next to us, and he was leaning out the window with that boyish grin, his eyes trained on my face pointedly. I swore I saw this eyes flicker to Roy for a fraction of a second, but I couldn’t be sure. What I was sure of was the way Roy tensed up the moment George’s voice reached us.

I gave my fellow manager a nod as I took a step towards George’s car. “I…. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

A grimace covered his face. “Yeah. Have a good night.”

With a little wave, I climbed into George’s car. My face flushed when George leaned over and planted a peck on my cheek; I stared straight ahead, not wanting to know if Roy saw, and not quite knowing why it bothered me. I slunk into my seat, glancing at the newspaper on the passenger seat floor.

“Love on the field? Coaches of AFC Richmond and its girls’ team caught in scandal!”

I sighed and leaned my head against the window, wishing that a night of movies and takeout could somehow make this whole mess disappear.

~

Doctor Sharon stared at Roy thoughtfully. It wasn’t like she didn’t know about what was happening; but goodness, to hear Roy mumble out the story about him and the manager he was clearly pining over and the debacle with these horrible photos was nothing short of pitiful. He’d spent much of their session ranting about his hatred for the press, how idiotic the headlines were, and how he wanted to punch the dicks of every photographer that had been lurking around the parking lot over the last week.

“… and now she’s got this, I dunno, fucking boyfriend,” Roy spat, his eyes glued to his shoes. “Fucking reporter, of all things. Prickiest prick that ever pricked.”

“I take it you don’t like him?” Doctor Sharon mused, raising an eyebrow.

Roy sat up a little. “He’s a prick,” Roy repeated.

Doctor Sharon nodded. “So I heard.” She stared at the gaffer for a moment. “Is that why you’re so angry? Her boyfriend isn’t a nice guy?”

There was a short pause before Roy opened his mouth again. “I just… I don’t fucking know.” He twiddled his thumbs. “She said she wanted space,” he sighed. “And I figured that she just wasn’t looking to date right now. Focus on coaching.” He blinked rapidly, his gruff voice quieting. “Guess now I know she just wasn’t interested in dating me.”

“And you wanted to date her?”

After a moment of staring at his shoes, Roy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I did.” His voice was thick. “I think… we would’ve been good together.”

A small smile appeared on Doctor Sharon’s face. “Thought you two hated each other?”

Her teasing tone was rewarded with the sight of Roy’s mouth lifting in the corner. “I thought so too,” he chuckled hollowly. “But I dunno. We were starting to get along. She’s fucking great with Pheobe. She split that charity money with me.” His eyes shifted, full of thoughts. “We had a good time at the gala.” He nodded. “She made me laugh. Dancing with her was nice. And afterwards, we just, you know, had a drink, talked about football.” He sighed, a heavy sound that filled the office. “Talked about being injured, retiring, all that shit. It was, I don’t fucking know, real. She fucking understood. Didn’t look at me with pity.” He looked away from Doctor Sharon’s face, his own face reddening. “And the… other stuff was pretty nice too.” Another sigh escaped his lips. “Just, for the first time since Keeley, I felt like I might have found someone. Someone who, I dunno.” He looked Doctor Sharon in the eye. “You know?”

“A partner?” Doctor Sharon offered.

“Yeah.” Roy cleared his throat. “A partner.”

Roy wasn’t sure how he felt when he left Doctor Sharon’s office. He didn’t feel better, but at least he didn’t feel worse. Mostly he felt heard, which he had to admit was nice. As he made his way back down to his office to pack up his things, the wheels in his head started turning. One of the things he told Doctor Sharon was how fucking helpless he felt, how he felt like he wanted to do something.

When he reached his office, that something occurred to him.

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Roy?” Trent Crimm’s voice was filled with confusion. “Something wrong?”

“You’re really asking me that?” Roy’s eyebrow quirked with amusement. “You haven’t seen the fucking headlines?”

Trent laughed, and Roy could just picture the writer adjusting his glasses. “No, I have. I’m just a bit surprised you’re calling me. How’re you holding up by the way?”

Roy sat at his desk and leaned back. “Not answering that one,” he grumbled. He glanced at the empty Whippets’ office. “I… need a favor.”

“What’s up?”

He leaned his elbows on his desk. The wheels in his head were spinning faster than they had in a long time. “All this bullshit with those photos,” he said slowly. “Would you be able to… find out where that came from?” The long pause on Trent’s end had him continuing. “I know there’s like journalistic integrity- fucking oxymoron by the way- but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“You’re not…” Trent cleared his throat. “… going to kill anyone are you?”

That year at the Dog Track had truly helped Trent understand Roy. “No, nothing like that,” Roy assured him. “I just… I don’t really know why I want to know,” he admitted, his gaze again on the office next door, on the chair she normally occupied. “I just need to know.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll buy you a new scrunchie or some shit,” he offered.

Trent’s laugh eased some of Roy’s tension. “Well if there’s a new scrunchie involved…” He paused. “But sure, Roy. I could do some sniffing around. Just don’t make me an accessory to murder, alright?”

“Promise,” Roy assured him. “Thanks, Trent.”

~

The parking lot had never been so filled with people before a Whippets game. I’d love to think it was because of our multitude of wins, or the charisma and skill of our players, or just because women’s soccer was growing in popularity. But once I saw the cameras, I knew better.

Sure enough, as Lucas and I walked towards the doors to the stadium, those people started shouting my name, along with questions about whether I’d slept with Roy Kent, if there was any tension at the Dog Track because of all this, how Roy was in bed. My personal favorite was, Have you guys done it here at Nelson Road?

Lucas placed a hand on my back and urged me inside, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

“Fucking scum,” he muttered as we made our way down the hall. “Let’s see them ask Kent those kinds of questions at the Greyhounds’ game tomorrow.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder as we made our way to our office. “Ignore them, Luke. Let’s just focus on getting the win.”

Even with the scandal, the stands were still packed. Or maybe it was because of the scandal; while standing in the tunnel, I swore I could “slag” being shouted over and over again from one section of the stadium.

“Fuck,” I whispered, gripping Lucas’s hand tightly.

He shook his head at me. “This is ridiculous,” he spat, tugging out his phone with his free hand. “I’ll text Rebecca, they need to be fucking thrown out.”

Doing my best to focus on the task at hand, I released Lucas and stepped out onto the green, keeping my eyes on the Whippets. When I heard particularly loud chanting begin, I blocked it out, straining to pick out a familiar voice. Keeley’s. Rebecca’s. Higgins’s. Hell, even Roy Kent’s growl would have been welcomed. But this certain chanting was so loud, it was almost enough to make me turn around and spend the game in the changing room- something I’d never dream of doing.

Maybe the papers were right. Maybe my career was over.

Dammit. I couldn’t cry on the field. I’d seen A League of Their Own; there’s no crying in baseball, and not in soccer either. The only tears I shed in uniform were tears of joy when I won. But the shouts, the knowledge that apparently everyone in Richmond, everyone in England, thought I was a slut for one admittedly lovely night with Roy freaking Kent, was enough to have me breaking my no crying in soccer rule.

“Bucky,” Lucas said, apparently not for the first time. “Bucky.” He was turned around, facing the seats behind the dugout.

I blinked rapidly and looked at my assistant coach, who was- wait, was he smiling?

Lucas was shaking his head, an amused chuckle escaping his wide mouth. He grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around, pointing about halfway up the stands. The sight had me almost breaking my no crying rule, but for a completely different reason.

About two dozen men were on their feet, shouting “Let’s go Whippets!” and clapping rhythmically. I recognized the giant grins of Jamie Tartt, Dani Rojas, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes- all the Greyhounds, each one clad with a white Whippets jersey. When Jamie saw me watching them, he jumped up and down and started smacking the guys next to him. Quickly, they all turned around, showing off the back of their kits: each one was adorned with the number six- my old number when I represented the United States- and five simple letters: B-U-C-K-Y.

“What the hell are they doing?” I gasped, shaking my head.

“I think,” Lucas hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze, “that they are letting you know they’ve got you.” He pulled me close. “We’ve all got you.”

~

Roy couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered as he looked at his phone while walking through the parking lot. Fuck, how he wished he’d been there on Saturday. When Isaac and Jamie came to him, expressing how they wanted some way to show the Whippets their support, Roy’d suggested they attend that weekend’s match. It was Isaac who came up with the idea to wear the team kits, and Jamie had thought of adding her name to the back. The guys had invited him to join them, of course, but he’d declined; he knew his presence would only add to the media circus the match would be.

The boys had provided Keeley with plenty of material for both teams’ social media. Sam had posted a video of a gorgeous Whippet goal with the caption “One of the best matches I’ve seen in a while! #RichmondWhippets”. There was Jamie’s selfie with a few players (including a blushing Kira Malone), simply saying “These girls got game!”. Particularly amusing was Colin’s picture with a Whippet from Wales, accompanied by a paragraph on Welsh independence and another paragraph on women’s sports.

But Roy’s favorite post had to be from Dani Rojas, a photo of him with the Whippets’ manager, with the simple caption “Ella es dorada 🥇”. She looked happy. Proud. Brave. Not to mention stunning in her blazer and red lipstick.

But he couldn’t focus on that. It was a new week of training, and he had a text from Rebecca summoning him to her office.

He winced on the stairs, his knee aching, and made a mental note to go easy on it all day. Could stress cause his injury to flare up? He’d have to look that up. He finally arrived at Rebecca’s office, strolling right in when he saw the open door.

Rebecca and Keeley sat on the couch, speaking in hushed tones. They perked up when they saw him, almost as if they hadn’t expected him to show up.

“Good morning, Roy,” Keeley chirped, clearly trying to keep her voice cheery. “Great game yesterday. You boys looked great.”

He grunted in response before turning to Rebecca. “You needed to talk to me?”

Rebecca sat up, straightening her blouse. “Just… checking in.” She offered that tense smile of hers, the one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How are you doing?”

Roy shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. I mean, I’m not the one getting all the shit press, am I?” He thought of the headlines and tweets he’d been seeing, double entendres and dirty rhymes and just straight up insults. Somehow, even worse, were the posts from idiots praising Roy for the whole thing, as if two adults having sex was some sort of accomplishment.

“Sure,” Rebecca said slowly. “But still. I know things aren’t exactly great for you right now.”

Right. It wasn’t a secret around Nelson Road that one of the managers was in the early stages of a relationship- and that manager definitely wasn’t Roy Kent. She wasn’t exactly flaunting things, but George often picked her up at work. He called her sometimes during the day, just to check in. Worst of all, the prick even brought her lunch to her office a couple of times, offering Roy a smug grin as he passed through the Greyhounds’ office.

Keeley knew Roy well enough to practically read his mind. “I’m sorry, Roy,” she sighed. “Just give it time. Things’ll get better, you’ll see.”

Roy shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling sick of this pity party his friends had decided to throw him. “If there’s nothing else, can I head to my office? So I can do my job?”

Amazingly enough, Rebecca smiled, a real smile. “Yes. There’s actually something in your office. A little surprise.” She glanced at Keeley, who suddenly broke into a matching grin. “Something that’s going to either cheer you up or positively piss you off.”

Frowning at the sudden attitude change, Roy nodded to the two women before walking out. Fucking weirdos.

He stalked down the stairs, down the hall, wondering what the hell Rebecca had meant about a surprise. Shit, had Keeley attempted to redecorate the offices again? Because he was still finding glitter from last time. He swore, if she replaced his chair with some fluffy monstrosity-

Roy froze when he opened the door and was greeted by a mustachioed smile.

“Howdy, Coach.”

~

“Right, so if we start Frankie and Brogan next week-”

Lucas and I froze in the doorway. There was an unfamiliar man in my office, staring at my Brandi Chastain poster. With everything going on, Rebecca was wary of letting reporters she didn’t trust wander around unsupervised; there was no way she’d let some stranger meander into my office.

“Excuse me,” I started, taking a step into my office. “Can I help-”

The man turned around, offering a broad grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hi there.”

Without ever meeting him, I realized exactly who I was talking to. “Oh gosh, you’re Coach Lasso.”

“Guilty!” he chuckled, leaning forward to shake my hand, then Lucas’s. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be Snoop Doggie-Dogging in your office, just admirin’ your magazine here.” He nodded towards Brandi. “Great little piece of history you got up there.”

I nodded, still a bit dazed at the realization that I was finally face to face with the Ted Lasso. “Yeah, yeah, she’s one of my heroes.” I cleared my throat. “Oh, I’m-”

Ted shook his head. “Oh, I know exactly who y’all are,” he assured me. “I mean, when Becca- uh Rebecca- told me she was hirin’ y’all, I’m embarrassed to admit I only sort of knew your name from when you were in the World Cup. But my son Henry, well when he watches American soccer, he prefers to watch the NWSL. So, he gave me a proper education on all things Coach Buck.” Somehow, his smile widened, filling his face even more than his mustache did. “Don’t suppose I can get an autograph for him while I’m here? Kid’s pretty jealous I get to meet ya.”

Don’t suppose I can get an autograph for him while I’m here?

He had no idea how badly I needed those words.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “No worries, I can do that.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see Roy enter the Greyhounds’ office. Our eyes locked for a fraction of a moment, the way they seemed to be doing a lot these days, before we both quickly broke eye contact- the way we seemed to be doing a lot these days.

I cleared my throat and smiled at Ted. “Listen, we’ve got to get to training. And I know you probably want to spend time with Beard and Rebecca and…” My eyes shot to Roy again, trailing over his bearded face as he focused on something on his desk. “….everyone.” I made myself look at Ted, whose expression was amused. “But, uh, think I could buy you a drink while you’re in town? American manager to American manager?”

Ted shrugged. “Shoot, those guys’ve all seen me a million times. Why don’t we grab that drink tomorrow night? Say, there’s this one place I love, the Crown and Anchor. You know it?”

“Uh, yeah, been there once or twice.” I shook Ted’s hand. “It’s a date, Coach Lasso.”

His brown eyes sparkled teasingly. “A date? Don’t forget my corsage then!”

~

Roy’s stomach twisted as he walked from the park to his car after his workout with Jamie. It was unfair, so fucking unfair. What had she done wrong that he hadn’t? They’d both danced. They’d both gone into his house. They’d both had whiskey and commiserated over their finished playing careers. They’d both had an incredible night together. And yet, she was the only one being punished for it.

With a heaving growl, he reached up and grabbed at the corners of the poster. He’d apologize to Rebecca later; he just couldn’t bear to see those vulgar words, not when they were aimed at her. He pulled down as hard as he could, harder than was really necessary, relishing the harsh ripping sounds. As he crumpled up the poster into a ball, he heard another sound: click, click, click.

He whipped around; sure enough, a camera was aimed at him, held by some young guy in a backwards baseball cap. The kid blinked at Roy, as if he didn’t expect the gaffer to look at him. When Roy took a few steps in his direction, the photographer took the same number of steps backwards.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Roy spat as he picked up his pace, closing the distance between them. Without thinking, he threw the balled-up poster at the photographer, not hard enough to cause any injury, but hard enough that it bounced off and rolled a respectable distance away.

“M-my job-”

Roy’s laugh was sharp. “Your job?” He pointed at the spot where the poster had been. “You pricks are making her job- my job- harder to do, you fucking know that?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re just trying to coach fucking football, but we’ve got you twats acting like we’re Brangelina or some shit.” He shook his head, picking up the trash he’d thrown. “This fucking shit written on the poster? That’s your fault. Every. Single. One. Of. You.” He roughly brushed past the photographer and shoved the ball into a trash bin. “You can all go fuck yourselves.”

By the time he arrived at work, Roy was mostly calmer. For Roy, at least. He was unsurprised to see Ted was already at Nelson Road; he was amused to realize his old coworker was coming from Rebecca’s office.

“Morning, Ted,” Roy rumbled, quirking a thick eyebrow at the American.

Ted’s face reddened at the sight of Roy. “Good morning, Roy.” He fell into step beside his former player. “Mind if I join you?” Roy’s grunt was good enough for him. Ted pointed at a photo of the Whippets squad as they passed it. “Amazing, this whole women’s team thing. Becca’s really outdone herself. Keeley too,” he quickly added. His smile turned teasing. “How’re the fellas doing with it? Bein’ respectful, I hope?”

Roy nodded. “They’re fucking fine,” he assured Ted. “There’s some flirting sometimes, and Jamie’s got this weird will-they-won't-they thing going on with their captain. But everyone gets on just fine.”

“What about you?” Ted waggled his eyebrows at Roy as they entered the office. “Any cutie patootie Alex Morgan-type catch your eye?”

“No,” Roy answered, a bit too quickly as his gaze travelled to the empty Whippets office, where he’d watched Ted talk to their manager the day before.

Of course, Ted’s gaze followed his. “Ah.” His eyes lit up. “That coach of theirs sure is somethin’, ain’t she? Gold medal, World Cup, hell of an NWSL coach. And pretty darn easy on the eye, huh?” His face softened when he caught sight of Roy squirming. “And I haven’t heard all the scuttlebutt, but my understanding is something happened between her and a certain Greyhound?”

“Can we not fucking talk about this?” Roy mumbled, eyes darting to the door when he heard footsteps coming from the hallway.

“Later then,” Ted promised Roy as Beard and Nate came into view, lighting up at the sight of Ted. “We can talk about this later.”

Fucking hell. Roy hated knowing that Ted would keep his fucking word.

After training ended for the day, he rushed out of Nelson Road, hoping to avoid that talk Ted promised him. As he stepped into the parking lot, he saw a familiar ponytail, just before its wearer put up her hood to shield herself from a paparazzo.

“Come on, Bucky,” the photographer tutted as his camera clicked. “Just one smile, come on.”

Fists clenched, jaw set, Roy took a step towards them. “Oi. Fuck d’you think you’re doing?” It was aggravating how familiar this felt today; it was even worse to see it aimed at her.

The photographer aimed his camera at Roy. “Say cheese, Kent,” he hummed.

With a scowl, he stormed forward and, not for the first time in his life, snatched the offending camera. He ripped out the SD card. He let the camera drop to the floor with a crash before he held the card up to the paparazzo’s face and snapped it in half.

“Leave. Her. Alone,” he growled, shoving the SD card pieces into his jacket pocket. “She is a fucking Olympic gold medalist, you twat. Would you treat fucking Jason Kenny or Michael Phelps that way? I don’t fucking think so.” He pulled out his wallet and took out a few bills, throwing them on the floor with the broken camera. “Stop hounding her. Get a fucking life.”

Roy glowered as he watched the photographer scamper off without either the broken camera or the cash, back to whatever pit of hell he’d slinked out of. Once the scum was out of sight, Roy turned around to see a pair of wide eyes already staring at him. He grimaced at her, his tense shoulders softening.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know you don’t need me to defend you. You can handle yourself. I know that.” When she didn’t say anything, he rambled on. “And I bet having me come to your rescue isn’t exactly the most helpful story to have in the press. But fuck.” He shrugged, kicking a stray rock. “Sick of the way they treat you,” he sighed. “Like you did some horrible thing. And then they either leave me alone or, worse, act like I won some prize. It’s fucking nuts.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve- It’s all so- I’m just fucking-”

Roy nearly jumped out of his skin when she reached forward and touched his hand, gently taking it in hers and giving it a small squeeze.

“Thank you.”

His mouth went dry as he gulped, immediately missing the warmth of her hand as she pulled back. “You’re welcome,” he managed.

She glanced at her watch. “I gotta go,” she murmured. “Got a date.” There was a hint of a teasing lilt to her voice, one that was almost friendly enough to stop Roy’s heart from sinking at the word date.

“With your boyfriend?” It took all his strength not to spit out the word.

Her eyes somehow grew wider. “Oh, no, he’s not my boyfriend.” Fuck, she said that quickly. “And I was joking about the date thing. I’m actually taking Coach Lasso out for a beer.” She shrugged, a ghost of playfulness in her eye. “Find out what all the fuss is about. See what’s so great about him.”

Roy couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth ticked upwards. “Let me know if you find out,” he joked, his heart fluttering at their first real conversation since the photos came out. “I’m still trying to understand it.”

Before she could say something- something clever, probably- the doors opened, and Ted emerged, raising an eyebrow when he saw the two managers standing so close to one another.

“You joining us for a pint, Roy?” Ted asked, nodding eagerly. “It’d be great if you did! Three’s Company, after all. We could use a Janet.” He turned to Bucky. “Unless you want to be Janet. Then we’d need a Chrissy.”

“Let me know if you figure out what the hell he just said,” Roy mumbled, giving her a gentle shove with his shoulder, not caring if Ted could hear him. “Good luck.”

“Bye, Roy.” She turned to Ted. “Let’s go get that pint.”

Roy watched as the two Americans walked off, immediately diving into an intense conversation about some 1970s sitcom. Despite the shit day he’d had, he couldn’t help but feel good when he climbed into his car. As he gripped the steering wheel, he stared at his hand, the one she’d touched. He couldn’t help the involuntary flex he gave, the words he’s not my boyfriend floating around in his head. Sure, he was still hurting, he was still in absolute agony. But for the first time in a while, probably since he first saw her with that prick journalist, Roy Kent also felt hope.

~

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19 @rae4725 @burnafter-reading @her-fandom-sanctum @infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996 @amatswimming @meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6 @netflix-addict @paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111 @bonesbonesetc @seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725 @timelordhunterandmysterysolver@littleesilvia @anonurs @itswhateveripromise @chewymoustachio @gcidrvsh @katdahlali

[makingmeagirlwithluv]

LOST IN THE LIGHTS CHAPTER 2

Pairing: OT7 x Female Reader

Word Count: 1 K

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Idol!BTS falls for spoiled brat reader who’s just looking for some fun! Can all 7 of them win her heart and make her theres and theres alone?

Genre:  Idol! BTS social media/sociallite reader. Modern day. No covid

Story warnings: Light smut, swearing, BTS are men and sometimes men are dumb as hell. That B!tch reader. Bi-sexual reader Mild angst. Swearing, lots of casual sex. possesive (?) bts. Unlikely to be member on member action but never say never. 18 PLUS MINORS DNI

Chapter 1

It was Seokjin who brought it up. All the boys were gathered around the dining table for family dinner. He was barely paying attention to the various conversations going on around him as he was scrolling through your Insta. 

It was maybe the third time he had done a deep dive on the page unable to take his eyes off of you in various locations.

“Mind your business!” Seokjin blushed as Namjoon reached over and grabbed his phone, before he could recover it Namjoon was sighing at the screen, before flipping the phone to show the rest of the men. A collective groan swept over the group.

There were photos of everything really, you looking stunning in front of the pyramids, a half-eaten croissant with a woman’s hand reaching towards it, five different photos of a cat walking down the street. He liked looking at your world when you weren’t around.

“Jin Hyung!” Jung Kook called from two chairs away snapping Seokjin out of his scrolling. Jung Kook chuckled “What are you looking at?” 

“It’s really not fair how sexy she is” Jimin sighs running his hand over his face. Taehyung nods adjusting in his seat to pull his phone out.

“Look at what she sent me” He smiles showing the boys the cute selfie you sent him while you were lying by the pool. 

Your skin is glistening and you still have that all-knowing sexy glint in your eye even through the photograph. Taehyung had texted you earlier asking to come over and see you and when you politely declined he figured he’d tease you and ask for a selfie instead. His heart sped up a little when you actually did what he asked. You were so beautiful and he had to share how gorgeous you were with the group. He smiled as they all stared at his phone cooing over you before putting his phone away. 

“Asked her what Hyung?” Jung Kook spoke up quirking an eyebrow at him as he shoved more noodles in his mouth. Hoseok laughed a little feeling embarrassed as all the guys stared at him. He was relieved when Yoongi patted him on the shoulder speaking up. 

“So have you guys like…asked her?” Hoseok cleared his throat looking around. They all turned towards him waiting for him to finish his sentence.

Taehyung earnestly breaks the silence “I asked her to move in once” And for a split second no one reacts before everyone bursts out laughing. 

“Don’t play dumb guys.” Yoongi scoffed. “Do you guys ever ask her to get more serious?” A quiet falls over the table as the question hangs in the air.

“Tae what the fuck.” Namjoon cried. 

“Ours.” Hoseok corrected raising an eyebrow at his friend. And that seemed to do it. Silently they were all in agreement, you were going to be theirs one way or another. 

“We’ve only known her like two months!” Jimin breathed out through giggles.

“Okay but I would have too hyung” Jung Kook admits smiling at his friend. He wasn’t afraid to admit he wouldn’t mind seeing you all the time.

“Ahh, I can’t live like this” Seokjin sighed. “I wouldn’t ask her to move in so soon, but I’d like her to be mine” He nods his voice gaining a serious tone. The tension slowly racks up in the room at Seokjin asserting a form of ownership over you. 

Slowly the idea formed between them on how to convince you. First things first, invite you over for a movie night with all seven of them.

And so there you were at their house flouncing around like you owned the place bouncing from member to member flirting and having a ball. 

“I already said no” You laughed coming back to the living room with a fresh bowl of popcorn where they were all spread out waiting for you.

“Ughk stop saying that” Jung Kook whined pulling you onto his lap.

“What’s the issue then?” You asked while picking up the remote from the coffee table and scrolling through the selections before landing on Legally Blonde. 

“What it’s the truth! You don’t like the truth?” You smirked at him while Namjoon reached over for the popcorn popping a kernel in your mouth before sneaking a kiss on your lips and settling back into the sofa.

“I don’t think the truth is the issue baby” Jimin chimed in scooting closer to you and Jung Kook.

“The issue is that you’ve never had boyfriends like us” Taehyung looked up at you from the ground flashing a charming smile. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 

“I don’t know about that, I mean aren’t all men essentially the same?”

“Bull shit” Yooongi breathed. He had been relatively quiet watching you own the room like you always do. Don’t get him wrong he wanted you as badly as the others and he let you see that but when it came to their mass fawning session he liked to take a more low-key approach.

“Oh yeah?” You looked him in the eye as the room slowly quieted. The heat between y’all building.

“Let us prove it” He shrugged.

“Prove it?”

“Correct”

“Okay?” You laughed looking around the room as their eyes roamed over you. “And how do you all expect to do that and don’t say-”

“It’s not what you think” Jin rolled his eyes, cutting you off. He got up from the opposite end of the couch shuffling over to you before pushing Jimin aside to sit by you. He rested his hand on your inner thigh before nuzzling your ear. You squirmed enjoying his touch and the attention of the others watching you two.

“Seven dates” he whispered in your ear. “One-on-one with all of us. Let us show you how different we all can be” he teased while inching his way up your thigh and planting a kiss beneath your ear lobe. “Let us show you how good we all can be”  

“Fine.”

And oh my god, he knew all the right spots, between the seven of them they all did. Your head was swimming and you were enjoying his hand drawing tortuously small circles on your inner thigh. You were also well aware of all seven of their eyes drinking you in as you slowly melted in to Jin’s touch

“Don’t make me beg, love” Jin squeezed your thigh snapping you back to reality. And you knew you’d regret it but you said it still.

[wishmaster]

At a Price

I heard about your sister’s store. Is it possible to buy something for my ex? We were a cute gay couple till he ghosted me when he found out about my kinks. However, now he is clearly together with someone even more kinky than me.

This was teh first photo he ever sent me. We were togethr for 6 months before I decided to tell him I enjoyed wearing leather clothing. I thought he might find it strange, not every guy is in to it, but when I showed up to our date one night looking like this.

He called me a damn freak in the middle of the club and stormed out. That was the last i heard from him, I'm not ashamed at who I am or what I like, but that whole night was embarrassing. But last week after nearly a year after he disappeared I saw him and his new man on social media.

And what's worse is I know the guy he's dating, he's even kinkier than me in fact I'm tame compared to the shit he likes to do so I was a freak for merely enjoying leather? I needed to show him who the freak was, That's why I contacted you Camilla, you came highly recommended as a go to in the revenge business.

You've come to the right place. Seems he loves his youth, healthy lifestyle and athleticism from what I gathered. You have anything of his? She asked as I gave her a toothbrush he left behind.

Perfect she to the toothbrush and used his DNA to begin her spell.After a few minutes a black smoke came off the toothbrush. Its done. She said as she snapped here fingers and her magic TV appeared, lets watch.

There the asshole was posting a selfie. Look at his dumb beautiful face.

He was quickly snatched up by someone and hauled away.

He was placed in a full leather suit, a gas mask places over his head and he was forced to inhale various potions that would alter him body and soul.

Next time flew by a few weeks had passed and now he was older and no longer the atletic stud he once was, his body now was home to several tattoos and piercings. He lay at his masters feet fast asleep.

After about a week he was well over fifty, by the time the spell ended the former college jock was sitting in his 60's

A dedicated Leather bear / Daddy now he had embraced the leather lifestyle he once called freakish. He spent his entire life dressed like this and owning younger boys..

Like you, suddenly you find yourself chained and caged up, totally naked and on display for your new master, While he was aged up, he liked them young and now you were a skinny twink boy about 19 now.

Daddy's gonna have fun molding you boy. You could hear your ex say in his new gruff older voice. He flicked the ash from his cigar on to you.

Then you hear a feminine voice it was Camilla, she spoke to you psychically.

Thanks for choosing me for your revenge and remember magic always comes at a price especially to those purchasing it. Enjoy your new life. Please recommend me to your friends.

[ef-1]

🚩👹❤️❌️🆘️🚨💄💋🌹🍒!

sooooOOooooOOOOooo I'm 21, my friend is engaged, this is my first experience with one of my direct friends actually going on a wedding journey or whatever the fuck you call it, until today I thought the bridzilla thing was like a myth or a joke or mayhaps a boomer thing I don't fucking know what I thought but like. what is this truly. how many times can one person say "but it's my engagement party" before it's socially acceptable to hiss at them.

It's literally so bizarre. I know this is a stressful time. I understand the urge to want everything to be perfect. I know you want the support and help of your friends but maybe? Don't? Be? A? Cunt? I've known her for years, she's always been so sweet???

She made our other friend cry bc she wanted him to pick up the wine and he replied "sure! I'll head over at 3pm (party was at 7) after lunch with my bf" "ITS MY FUCKING ENGAGEMENT, CANT YOUR LUNCH WAIT" ¿¿¿ ???

I picked up the hors d'oeuvres, she changed the order from the catering company last minute so there was an extra charge, no biggie, I paid for it, didn't mention it to her at all. Picked up her dress. I booked & paid for her hair stylist. We're the same shoe size so for a couple of weeks I went out, tried on a bunch of shoes for her and sent her photos until she found the one. Steamed her dress this morning. She's not too handy with makeup and she asked me to do her makeup, something I've done hundreds of times before to no complaints but today was"kate, you're not doing it right, I want it to look like yours" WE DONT HAVE THE SAME FUCKINF FEATURES IM NOT A FUCKING MAGICIAN. Her sister doesn't drive so a couple of weeks ago I made the 3 hour drive to her country ass town to pick her and her weird husband who would not fucking stop flirting with me up. My friend got his bf who's a photographer to photograph the party for free. I lended her my grandmother's jewellery.

Literally one thing about me is I'll never ever, ever, ever do anything for someone because I expect something in return bc I think that's a shitty way to approach life and you'll hurt yourself when people don't repay you for something they didn't ask for. So I'm not the type of person to regret doing a favour bc if I do something, I wanted to. I had no problem with doing any of the above bc I agreed to do it. I wanted to do it.

What I did not agree to is having to watch her scream at our friend for 20 minutes until he cried. Honestly this should have been enough, I'm not a timid person I should have told her to fucking cut it out and I'm ashamed I didn't.

My nervous system has been literally fucking eating itself. My leg has been completely numb for 2 weeks now. standing is fine, but I literally can't walk without a cane. It sucks. It fucking sucks because people look at you and they mean well always but they can't not look like they pity you when they do. And she'd been disgusting today. Like a genuinely horrible person. And it's her night, didn't want to ruin it so after 2 hours of formalities, when people started grinding on eachother like animals in heat and her sister's husband started eyeing me like the fucking weirdo that he is and i got my 8th "Awwwww Katherine you look beautiful, why don't you dance" of the night BECAUSE I FUCKING CANT MAYBE THIS IS A REHEARSAL FOR WHEN I GET PARALYSED FUCK OFFFFFFFF I HOPE THE SUN FALLS ON YOUR FUCKING HEAD

I went up to her and whispered "hey, I'm just going to head out, the fatigue is hitting hard and I hate when people ask me why I'm not dancing" which is something she knows. Something I've confided in her about a hundred times. When MS fucks my mobility I usually just stay at home until it boils over, she knows this. So imagine my surprise when she literally looks me in my dumb fucking eyes 🧿🧿 and says "kate are you serious? Can't you just hold on a for a couple of hours, what am I meant to do without you." girl at this point? die for all I care.

Her raggedy ass fiance, who I've advocated the dumping of a trillion times btw has the AUDACITY to chase me to the car when my flatmate comes to pick me up with "Katherine you're upsetting her" ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽

the wildest part is, this isn't even the wedding, this is just the engagement I just realised maybe despite knowing this friend for years maybe I didn't know her at all lol anyway I looked so fucking good it wasn't even close and I'm so glad I decided not to wear the expensive dress I'd planned on wearing, and maybe this is all a sobering lesson about socially sanctioned behaviour and not swallowing your tongue when someone you love is made to cry

[bisluthq]

I know I keep sending you asks about the John thing and I apologize for that because the man is vile, but as you said, the Joe/Travis things are just a bit boring. Like honestly the most interesting thing about the Joe relationship was how it started imo (which is why she kept writing songs about it lmao). Anyway, the John Mayer thing runs DEEP. Like I honestly find it both very fascinating and very disturbing. Example:

I read an old interview where she was talking about Ours and she said that it was written "right BEFORE she turned 20 about a relationship she was in that she knew people wouldn't approve of and it was just a matter of time before people found out," which is interesting considering she randomly started spending a lot more time with the crypt keeper around this time (Vevo launch party + Jingle Ball).

But then I read the "official" breakup reports that her and boy Taylor's teams sent to PEOPLE and Us Weekly, and both explicitly stated that they (she) had called things off AFTER her 20th birthday. The Us Weekly kind of focused on how he was way more into her then she was but how they planned to stay friends, and the PEOPLE one really pushed the "it was actually never that serious and the media just blew it out of proportion" narrative.

... And then she proceeded to write Back To December where she apologizes for how terribly she treated him and goes over how guilty she feels about breaking his heart, which makes me think that it either wasn't super casual or was legit full on PR and she just wrote the song to make it a bit more convincing, because the timeline IS messy. The other option is girlie (in her mind) basically had two boyfriends, one that was like *perfect and one that she later referred to as the devil, and she liked the second one WAY more. Which TBF, the John thing predates the Taylor thing by like... At least a year.

It is made worse by the fact that the post her 20th B-Day thing is kinda proved by some photos that got taken of them the morning after, and by the fact that his dumb little SNL skit that they reference in the ICSY music video was aired/filmed the day between the Jingle Ball and her birthday.

It's also made worse by the fact that Owl City AND Boys Like Girls performed that night (alleged love Story guy/guy who thinks she wrote songs about him and didn't & enchanted guy who got GHOSTED). Honestly when she performs with BLGs there is also a bit of a vibe with Martin (though not to the same degree as John. The most stark difference is that when she leaves both performances she hugs J and doesn't hug M).

I know this is already ridiculously long but I will also add that there is an interview of John's from the night of the Jingle Ball where he says that he's "really looking forward to going down these halls and being like are you in Boys Like Girls or are you Owl City? Because I'm getting old now, and I don't know everyone's visage" and yes I am aware there weren't THAT many people to name but that feels a little targeted.

Also she said in an interview that was done 3 days before her 20th birthday that she thought Taylor Lautner and John Mayer were hot, and like... Thanks for the confirmation girlie but I could've told you that. Anyway have a good day, hopefully you find this as interesting as I do so I haven't just wasted your time🙏

she defs did have a situation with Martin because like photos of them exist and his ex said they dated and idk. She dated that dude. She didn’t date Owl City guy lmao but she never claimed to. She was just charmed by him and that’s the point of Enchanted.

John is a huge asshole for the stunt he pulled. I don’t think it’s cool to mess with 19 year olds if you’re over 22 tbh. I don’t think he ever felt deeply about it - he just liked her talent and her looks - and that’s fucked up.

[phregnancy]

during my first year of university i would go on dates with men for money to cover my schooling and living expenses. with that, i would sometimes get offers from men internationally to go stay with them for periods of time. i wouldn’t take them up on that because of how dangerous that seemed, until i got an offer from a man in london. me, being a demon, would not pass up the opportunity to go somewhere where i could have a .01% chance of bumping into dan and phil, so i agreed to go to london and meet this man. except i was planning on scamming him.

i sent him information for the tickets i wanted and listed prices and had him send me the money for the tickets so i could purchase them, rather than him purchasing for me, saying that everyone on the site we met on uses an alias for safety reasons and i would need to book the tickets myself with my legal name. i told him to book our hotel and share the information with me so that way he could be sure that i was committed to our agreement, along with keeping him updated on my flight information so he could pick me up from the airport. i didn’t actually need a hotel because i had a friend who was going to university in london and said i could stay with her. i was dumb and really pushing my luck because i was planning on wearing a crazy wig with sunglasses and a strange outfit to disguise myself (like from a tv show) on an international flight that required a passport check, just in case i risked bumping into him outside the airport. i fully believe the universe was holding my hands on this because about a week before the flight i got a notification that my flight was expected to be delayed, which wasn’t a big deal at all except when i got the email the airline gave me the option to cancel or reschedule my flight free of charge. i told the london man about the delay and updated him on what time to expect me, but really i had changed my flight to another much earlier in the day. the flight there was easy, didn’t need a disguise because i gave the wrong times and then blocked his information, stayed with a friend in croydon, went out all day every day and did not run into them once but still was the best eleven days of my life.

lack of forethought - i did not consider the fact that this man knew when my flight home was, and i realized that the day of my return flight and freaked out because i didn’t bring my dumb disguise (like that would make a difference). my friend helped me make a ‘more normal’ disguise where she helped me look as disheveled and as worn down as possible because this man only knew me from photos and calls where i was very done up. i didn’t end up seeing him at the airport and made it back fine. but yeah. legitimately scammed a man into paying for me to fly to london because i wanted that small chance of meeting dan and phil. have you ever been so insane.

ok i think i’m gonna share my wildest demon phannie moment

[digital-corruption]

... Screw it. Yes, I'm starting a new multi-part fanfic right before episode 10. 🤪

In this version of events, Jake disappeared right before the end of whatever happens without a trace. It is now 5 years later. MC has moved on (?).

Unrecognisable Part 1

⚠️ This fanfic has strong language usage.

⚠️ This fanfic features a**hole!Jake.

------------------------------------------------

“I wish I found the Man Without a Face instead.”

I never thought I'd ever say those words, but as they say, “expect the unexpected.” They also say, “never meet your heroes.” For good reason too.

Where to begin? I'm sure you know the story about Hannah Donfort. Who doesn't by now? It was all over the news and social media. Not a story I enjoyed repeating. Thankfully only a few people knew I was even involved as my name was left out of the news. And of the people I did tell, many claimed I lied for the attention. As if I wanted to be associated with that nightmare? No, thank you.

The only thing that kept me sane was my memories of the people I met along the way, especially HIM. Not many people are aware that the #IAmJake trend and the events surrounding Hannah Donfort were actually connected. Not even the conspiracy theorists were able to make that connection. I suppose it was good in a way - good for HIM. I wouldn’t be able to tell you because before it was even over he disappeared without a trace. Yes, like the Avatar, only he wasn't encased in ice.

To make matters worse, all of our history with him was gone. Even the photo he had sent to Lily and the backup she had saved. As it turned out the photo contained a trojan, which meant he could get to it on any device. Of course the one personal item he volunteered had strings attached. If it wasn’t for the fact Lily had printed a hard copy of the photo, we wouldn't had anything to go on, but even then, it wasn't enough. It’s not like you could identify him from an old photo of his mother. It's not like I could hack into the world’s most sophisticated international facial recognition software and search for matches.

Honestly though, I was pissed, no livid with how he disappeared. At first I was optimistic he would return, but as the days and weeks passed without a word, it was clear it was never going to happen. And as bad as it sounds, there were times I wished he was either dead or captured. The sting of him leaving wouldn't hurt so much then. Something told me he wasn't though. Somehow I knew he got what he wanted and was now in the wind. After a while, I had a friend of mine so a sweep of my computer and phone. Both had so many backdoors open for the right hacker to walk right through any time he felt like it. I was so disgusted with the gall of him. I immediately got a new phone and computer, and didn't touch my old accounts ever again. An absolute fresh slate. No more prying whenever you felt like, Jake. He would have to reach out to me the old-fashioned way.

So when I received the coded email from an unknown sender five years after he disappeared, you could imagine my surprise. I suppose an average person would have deleted it or marked it as spam. I just knew there was something about it though. I looked up all sorts of ciphers and encryptions. I ran it through online parsers. Surely if it was intended for me it wouldn't require too much deciphering, right? What I understood about the highest level of encryptions was they required a key to interpret the information, but I didn't receive anything else so I was baffled for days. Then I remembered that scavenger hunt he had sent me and Lily on, and that dumb phrase he kept repeating.

“You are the key.”

I tried my first name. I tried my last name. I tried them together, I tried them in reverse. I threw in my date of birth for kicks. Nothing. I nearly gave up, but then I saw a video on my feed mention how identity theft can occur from just having your social security number.

Bingo.

The parser confirmed that the decryption worked and returned to me two decimal numbers. At least I had watched enough mystery shows and played enough games to immediately recognise them as GPS coordinates, so you can stop shouting at the page now. (Who hasn't yelled at TV shows for spending more than a second working that out?)

And that is how I ended up at that abandoned building in a faraway city of a country I had never been to before. Then thing is, no one knew I had gone overseas. It wasn't so much of an issue with my work or my family. However, lying to my boyfriend was the hardest. He sincerely thought I was visiting my sick aunt. How was I to explain this to him? That I was chasing down a clue that may or may not lead to this guy I once had feelings for. I figured I'd work out an explanation afterwards. For now, I didn't want the interference, I just wanted to be able to focus on following the clue. I had to admit, as I pryed the boards off a broken window with a disused pipe I had found, I was beginning to have doubts about my interpretation of the message, but what else could it have been?

Even though it was the middle of the day outside, the old office building was dark as little light got past the boards. I had to use my phone to illuminate the hallways as I walked through them. There was only four stories, but when you don’t know what or who you were going to be finding, it felt like a never-ending labyrinth. Still, I carried on while trying to work out the best excuse to give the police if they had found me first and arrested me for trespass. They could speak English, right?

As I entered one of the offices on the third floor, my phone was suddenly knocked out of my hand. Before I could react, I was slammed face first into the wall painfully. Someone grabbed my hand and twisted my arm painfully against my back. Then I heard the click of a gun's safety being disengaged before the muzzle was shoved against my head.

“What the fuck are you doing here!?” a male voice grunted with an European accent.

My mind raced. Had I gotten the message wrong? Was I not the intended recipient? But it was my social security number that was the key! No, it had to have been for me.

“I-I followed the GPS coordinates in the email!” I stammered.

“What email!?” he pressured.

“Can we do this without the gun?” I pleaded.

“No! Answer the fucking question!” he snapped.

“I received an encrypted email from an unknown sender. All it contained though were GPS coordinates for this building!” I explained. “Please, you’re hurting me!”

“I’m hurting you? I'm hurting you?” he stressed. “Fuck! It’s people like you that keep the Nigerian prince scam going! You blindly following that email is going to get me killed! I should just shoot you and leave your body for them to find! Teach them to fuck with me!”

“I don’t understand!” I started to tear up. “You didn’t send me the email?”

“NO!” he yelled. His voice echoed off the walls. “At what point in entering this building did it seem like I wanted guests!?”

He pulled the gun away and shot my phone lying on the floor. The gun had a silencer on it, but the sound of the phone shattering still caused me to jump.

“Now what do I do with you?” he purred. “Do I leave you in the dumpster out the back? Or should I hang your body in the foyer?”

“Please...” I sobbed. “It was just a misunderstanding, ok? I thought you were someone else!”

“Yes, I know. You thought I was... what name did I use again? Oh, that’s right. You thought I was Jake,” he laughed.

My blood ran cold, “Jake?”

He spun me around and slammed me back against the wall. I started to cry out in pain when he smashed his lips against mine. I was in so much shock that all I could do was stare into his icy cold eyes that peered out from underneath his hood. He readjusted his face mask to cover the lower half again.

“What’s wrong? Was that not how you imagined our first kiss?” he chuckled.

I immediately slapped him across the face. “You can’t be...” I mumbled.

“Oh, but I am,” he sneered. “I am Jake!”

[imekitty]

Star Error VI

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Star investigates Danny’s glowing freckles.

-----

The rumors continued throughout the morning. Star kept catching students looking at her and whispering, giggling behind their hands.

Damn it. All she wanted to do was prove that Fenton's stupid freckles glowed. How did she let this happen?

After the lunch bell rang, Star caught a glimpse of Fenton down the hall. She paused for only a moment before deciding not to meet the rest of the A-List for lunch and power walking toward Fenton. She wasn't hungry anyway.

Students stared at her as she dashed past them. She was sure she could hear them whispering about her. What's she doing? Where's she going? Is she chasing after Danny Fenton? Oh, she must be, yes, she's so very in love with him, isn't she?

She clenched her jaw and kept her gaze straight ahead, making no eye contact with anyone. Fenton was leaning against a row of lockers and chatting with his two loser friends.

"Hey. You." Star marched up to him, her hands balled into fists by her side.

Fenton turned to her and blinked with an expression of mock innocence as he pointed to his chest. "You talking to me?"

"Yes, I'm talking to you," hissed Star. "Who else would I be talking to?"

"I don't know." Fenton shrugged and looked around. "There's a lot of people in this hallway."

"Quit acting dumb," said Star. "We need to talk."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?"

"You know what I mean. Somewhere private."

"Oh, my. Whatever about, Star?"

Fenton's eyes became larger in his continued faux naivete. Manson and Foley exchanged glances and quirked eyebrows.

"I just couldn't possibly imagine," said Fenton.

"Are you going to come talk with me?" demanded Star. "Or am I going to have to drag you somewhere?"

Fenton laughed. "Oh, wow. I'd kind of like to see you try that."

Star growled and could feel her face heating up.

"All right, all right, we can talk." Fenton looked at his friends. "I'll meet you two at our usual table for lunch a little later."

"See ya," said Foley.

"Good luck," said Manson.

Star stomped ahead of Fenton, leading the way down the hall. She could see more people staring at them as they walked past, whispering their names and giggling.

The first empty classroom Star spotted, she darted inside. Fenton followed in behind her, and Star locked the door.

"So how have things been since last night, Star?" asked Fenton with a pleasant smile.

Star scowled and opened the picture of his glowing freckles on her phone. "You need to tell the A-List that this is real, that your freckles really do glow."

"You really sent that to them, huh?" Fenton squinted at the photo, as if he were studying it.

"Yes!" cried Star. "And they think it's photoshopped or some kind of Snapchat filter. And then they recognized the background and thought we were on a date and now the entire school thinks you and I are dating."

Fenton burst out laughing. Star seethed, her grip on her phone shaking.

"What about this is funny?" Star gritted her teeth.

"This really backfired on you, didn't it?" asked Fenton, still grinning.

Star sputtered and fumbled with a response.

"I mean, am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Fenton raised his arms, palms up. "What do you want from me right now, Star?"

"I want you to tell everyone the truth!" yelled Star. "You have to tell the A-List that your freckles really do glow so that people will stop thinking we're dating."

"Hmm." Fenton scrunched up his mouth and glanced up at the ceiling before dropping the expression and looking at her again. "Nah, I don't think so."

Star growled. "What? What do you mean, you don't think—you can't just—"

"Look, I don't care if people think we're dating," said Fenton with a nonchalant shrug. "First Paulina, now you—I mean, everyone's gonna think I'm a stud. This is only a good thing for me."

"But not for me!" cried Star. "I can't let people think I would actually date a freak like you!"

"Hey, you're the one who brought me in here and locked the door," said Fenton, gesturing around the classroom. "You don't think anyone saw us come in here together?"

"If you would just tell everyone the truth, that won't matter!" insisted Star.

Fenton exhaled loudly, rubbing his fingers over one eyebrow. "I can tell anyone who asks that we're not actually dating, but I'm not going to admit that my freckles glow."

"That's not enough, Fenton."

"Well, I don't know what else you'd expect from me after what you did yesterday."

Star huffed. "Oh, is that what this is about? Did I hurt your feelings when I tricked you, Fenton? Is this your way of getting back at me?"

"Of course not," said Fenton. "I'm not the one who started the rumor about us dating, Star. I just don't care. You've given me no reason to care."

"You know, all I wanted was proof that your freckles glow," said Star. "I don't even know why you want to hide this so much, like no one at this school could possibly think you're any freakier than you already are."

Fenton raised a brow. "You think so, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," said Star. "Everyone already knows your parents deal with weird ghost stuff. No one would be the slightest bit surprised that some of it leaked into your skin or whatever."

"It's really not as simple as that."

"Then what is it?"

Fenton averted his gaze.

"Can you just tell me, please?" asked Star.

Fenton slowly shook his head. "No. I can't."

Star scoffed. "I really don't get you, Fenton," she muttered.

Fenton sighed. "Look. You and everyone at this school, you're not the ones I'm trying to hide this from."

"What do you mean?" Star cocked her head. "Who are you trying to hide it from, then?"

"Just…" Fenton rubbed his upper arm. "People."

"What kind of people?"

"People who would…want to hurt me." Fenton looked at the floor. "If they knew."

Star eyed him warily, sticking out her bottom lip. "Why would anyone want to hurt you just because your freckles glow?"

"I can't tell you."

"Well, if you won't tell me, then let me ask my last yes-or-no question to try to figure it out."

Fenton groaned. "Star—"

"I still have one left, don't I? You said you'd answer five questions for me if I helped you with five math problems."

"That was before you took that picture of me and sent it to the A-List."

"Come on, are you really going to keep holding that against me?" asked Star. "It backfired, like you said. Now we're even."

Fenton shook his head and turned to leave. Star grabbed his arm, causing him to look at her again.

"Let me ask." She didn't let go of his arm. "Please."

He stared at her for some time, silent. Then he opened his mouth but jumped when someone rattled the door handle.

"Did someone lock my door?" asked a teacher's muffled voice. "Who's in there? I just stepped out for a few minutes!"

Star let go of Fenton's arm. "It's Mrs. Winters. Shit."

Fenton headed to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open. Mrs. Winters scowled at them, a textbook in one hand and her other hand on her hip.

"Star, Danny?" Mrs. Winters moved past them to her desk. "Look, I know you're a new couple, but please don't use my classroom to make out."

Star's jaw dropped. "What—we were not—I mean, we're not—"

Fenton smiled and took Star by the wrist. "Sorry, Mrs. Winters. It won't happen again."

He tugged her wrist. Star allowed him to pull her out of the room and lead her down the now empty hallway until they were out of earshot.

Star took her hand out of Fenton's grasp and leaned against the lockers, groaning. "God, even the teachers have heard the rumor about us dating now."

Fenton started walking away. Star stood up straighter. "Fenton! Where are you going?"

Fenton turned back to her. "Lunch. Sam and Tucker are waiting for me."

"But we haven't finished talking about this!"

"What more is there to say? And don't you think your friends might be wondering where you are, too? Do you really want to tell them you were with me for all of lunch?"

Star glared at him before sighing with defeat. "No, I really don't," she muttered, looking down at the floor.

"But you know…" Fenton turned to her more fully. "I never got to thank you for your help yesterday."

Star looked up, raising a brow.

"The way you explained how to do those math problems was really helpful," Fenton continued. "Usually I don't have a clue what Falluca is saying, but today, math class made more sense to me. And Falluca actually seemed impressed when I turned in the homework you helped me with."

"Oh. Um." Star shrugged. "Well, that's my goal as a tutor."

"You're good at it," said Fenton. "I hope it really does help you get into your top college."

"My top college?"

"Yeah. You told me that you joined the tutoring club so it would look good on your college applications."

"You actually remember that?"

"Of course."

He smiled at her kindly. Star could feel herself blushing and pretended to scratch an itch on the back of her neck so she could look away from him.

"I really need to go now." Fenton pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket. "Tucker keeps spamming me, asking where I am."

"You will let me ask my fifth yes-or-no question, won't you?" asked Star.

Fenton hesitated, then chuckled. "I might. Maybe. If we ever go out again."

"Wha—again?" Star put her hands on her hips. "That wasn't a date last night, Fenton. You know that."

Fenton shrugged and gave her a small wave before turning to walk toward the cafeteria. Star let him go this time, unmoving, staring after him.

Part 7

[rebelrayne]

ho ho ho or whatever.

featuring Grinch!Seb my gift for my dear friend @whatisreggieshortfor

here or on AO3

Inside the bustling, busy city of Liverpool, there comes a tale you certainly never learned in school. A record store sits on Paul Street in the heart of the town, and here, my dear reader, is where the start of our story is found. Ask any of the townsfolk, they’ll tell you the same: “There’s no place like home by the fire on Christmas Day!” All the windows of the stores are flocked with care, but there sat one store with its window display bare.

Because the owner, Seb, hates Christmas, the whole damn season. Please don’t ask why, he’ll never tell you the real reason. It could be that the music didn’t sound quite right, or it could be, perhaps, the ice on his car in the morning gave him quite a fight. But… If you ask me, the most likely reason of all was that on Christmas day, he couldn’t buy any alcohol.

But, whatever his reason, whether the alcohol or the Christmas music vocals… He stood in his shop on Christmas Eve hating the locals. Staring through his window with a frown so vile, at the happy grins of those wearing ugly Christmas sweaters without style. 

“Tonight they’ll hang their stupid stockings,” he groans in his cat, Doom’s ear. “Tomorrow is Christmas and they’ll sing with cheer!” From Mariah to Ariana, and families matching in their hideous Holiday pajamas… But at the very least, he thinks without fear, he won’t have to deal with all this again until next year.

He finally smiles to himself happily as he turns on his heel, but he stops in his tracks when he hears someone enter and give a loud squeal. “This is just the place!” the voice announced with haste. “I’ll surely find what I need here, it’s abundantly clear!”

Seb finds a blonde standing in the doorway with a smile dazzling and warm. “If you’re looking for Taylor Swift, you’ll find Apple Music is a better platform.” He crosses his arms tightly across his chest, hoping this body language will get his point across best. The blonde is wearing a distasteful sweater with the words ‘SLAY BELLS’ written in big, bold letters.

“Nice to meet you, too,” the blonde responds in a flat tone. “My name is Hayden. Do you have this?” she asks as she holds up her phone.

The photo staring back comes at a surprise, he can’t hide his shock no matter how hard he tries. “You’re looking for Queen’s Hot Space?!” Could it be that Hayden actually has good taste? He glances back towards his office door. “I think I may have that in the backroom of the store.”

Hayden’s eyes widen and sparkle with glee, and Seb almost forgets about her sweater that lights up like a Christmas tree. He reverts back to his sour ways and reminds himself how much he hates the holidays. He spins himself around to retrieve the vinyl, and hopes that this Christmas sale is the final. 

You see, he doesn’t like to remember the reason... But perhaps it’s time the story was told of the 2017 Christmas season. Maybe it was silly for him to think he was in love, but it was especially dumb to think she was sent from Heaven above. Yes, she was sweet and kind so he thought… But this all came to a halt the night she got caught. Seb picked up a bouquet of flowers and headed back to his house, but he found it quite strange that next to the door was her blouse. He walked to the room where they shared a bed. He was not prepared to see a man with nothing on but a Santa hat on his head. He doesn’t recall much from that night, but he knows he now hates Christmas with all his might.

He shuffles into his office and searches the space. “No, no, I’m sure I put it back in its rightful place!” He rubs the back of his neck as he wonders, but jumps when he hears a loud thunder. He pops his head out of the office, hoping Hayden was overly cautious.

But there she stood as giddy as before, doesn’t she want to get the heck out of the store?! Surely she’d like to get home and take cover, but of course, Hayden would rather rummage through music to discover. Normally Seb wouldn’t complain, but on Christmas Eve, he doesn’t want to be caught in the rain! 

“I don’t have the record,” he says without an apology. He knows if he wants Hayden out, he’ll have to use reverse-psychology. “It’s not that good anyway, if I’m being honest. I can recommend something even better, I promise.”

Hayden rolls her eyes and walks towards Doom slowly. “Is this your cat?” she asks as she crouches down lowly. Doom doesn’t lift her head but purrs in response, although the way she closes her eyes is a bit nuanced. Hayden giggles as she sit on the floor. “If I knew there was a cat, I would have been in here before.” 

Seb moves toward the counter, and rests his body against it. “Since we’re stuck here, can I ask about your choice of outfit?”

With a  voluminous giggle, Hayden shakes her head. “Every Christmas, I play pretend.”

Now he’s confused and rightfully so. “Maybe you could explain that a little more to me though?”

Hayden nods as she gets to her feet. She gives Seb a smile, one heavenly and sweet. “I go to the hospital every Christmas Eve so I can lift the spirits of the children who still believe.” She bites her lip for a moment as if in deep ponder. “But it seems nowadays, people just like having money to squander. Christmas is meant to bring joy, don’t you think?” Little does she know how much Seb thinks Christmas stinks.

“Christmas is the worst time of year,” he says quickly without hesitation. “No need to argue, there’s no negotiation.”

“The worst time of year?!” Hayden’s voice sounds shaken. “No, you are sorely mistaken!” They scowl, but only for a moment, “This means you hate Christmas, don’t it?”

Seb rolls his eyes and gives a solemn nod, but he isn’t quite sure why Hayden would find it so odd. Christmas is boring, and it’s clearly overrated. It should be no shock why this holiday is so hated. “I hate Christmas, it’s true,” he sighs. “I’m not sure why you’d even be surprised.” This Hayden is annoying with her festive cheer… How much longer is she going to stay here?

“Don’t you have family, or even a friend?” Hayden seems unable to comprehend. Even if Seb had a place by the fire, he’d never see a Christmas tree he’d want to admire. He’d rather be at home with Doom by his side, as the snow falling invades the driveways outside. “No one should be alone on Christmas,” she insists with a nod. “Why don’t you come to my party and meet the whole squad?”

The thought of declining crosses his mind for a moment or two, but then he realized it might be more fun to see it through. “I’ll go to your party,” Seb answers with glee, “is there anything I should bring with me?”

Hayden shook her head with a grin so delighted. “Just bring yourself. I’m really excited!” She went to turn around, then laughed out loud. “Sorry I never caught your name. Can I know? Am I allowed?”

“Seb,” he answered quite quickly. “I’ll be the one dressed in black that your friends will describe as prickly.” Hayden’s eyes crinkle as she waves him goodbye, leaving nothing but a red and green invitation behind. He waits til the door closes for a smirk to appear, oh that Seb is clever: have no fear.

He picks up the invite and studies the inscription. “This cannot actually be the description!” On the small paper, read in capital letters: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO WEAR YOUR BEST CHRISTMAS SWEATERS. “Can you believe this?” he asks his cat, Doom. He throws his hands up and storms out of the room.

If he has to go and show up in his Christmas best, the least he can do is ruin this fest. It’s what Hayden deserves, at least that’s what he’ll say. “It’s time for this Hayden to pay.” But he doesn’t have anything to wear, that poor Grinch Seb. All he has in his closet are decorations of black cats and cobwebs!

Then he snaps his fingers with a smirk so devious. “I should have thought of this previous!” He rushes to his closet where a red jacket hangs, and pulls down a dusty box that lands with a BANG! He pulls out a santy claus hat and grabs his red coat, laughing to himself as he remembered the note. “Now I look just like Saint Nick!” he says, thinking it will do the trick.

“Now all I need is a reindeer,” he says as he looks around. “But this is Liverpool, there are no reindeer to be found…” His eyes land on Doom, who has slunk up the stairs. “Or I could make one, it’s not like I care.” So he goes outside in search of a twig, hoping he finds one that isn’t too little or too big. 

“This one is perfect!” he announces as he snatches it off the ground, then rushes back in to place it on Doom’s head to be bound. He wraps around her head carefully, you see. “You look better than Rudolph, Doom! Don’t you agree?” He stands himself up and grabs an empty backpack, inviting Doom inside but leaving it open a crack.

He heads to the banquet hall where the celebration will happen, only to hear sounds that sound so… Gladdened. He rolls his eyes before going inside, only to open the door and become wide-eyed.

Every guest there, whether they were big or small, all wrapping presents of essentials for all. “Sally wants a toothbrush, and maybe a new coat for her mom!” Hayden spoke so calm. Seb shook his head, he can’t believe his eyes! Christmas was all about presents, it’s all about a prize! 

But that’s not what’s happening here in this place… He’s had it all wrong, should he leave to save face? Christmas isn’t all about things, it’s about the joy it can bring! It hits him all at one one time. “Oh God! And all day I’ve been thinking in rhyme!” But then he feels something tingly and warm, and he realizes that maybe Christmas doesn’t come from the store. 

He walks over to Hayden and gives her a kind smile. “Maybe I can stay and help for a long while? What you’re doing is awesome,” he says, feeling the love in his heart blossom.

She lets her hands fall down to her side. “Maybe Christmas isn’t so bad, is that what you’ve implied?”

“I’m not saying it’s my favorite holiday, Hayden,” he pauses for a breath, “but maybe there are some things I haven’t quite understood yet.”

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. I hope that this story made your day happy and bright. Seb found a reason to like Christmas a little, it’s true; but there’s no one I’d rather talk LITG with every day but you.

[fangirl-writes]

Ghost of You

Calum Hood x Reader

Warning(s): death, mourning, Calum crying on stage. Angst.

Notes: I saw a video on tiktok of Cal singing his heart out to this song so here we are. Not revised, written in one session.

Summary: Based on the song Ghost Of You. 

The boys were hesitant to keep the tour dates after what happened. Everyone needs time and they thought that the space between the accident and the first show wasn’t long enough.

But Calum disagreed. He assured his bandmates that he would have no trouble by the time the show came around.

They were skeptical, argued with him to the contrary, but Calum just looked at them with tears in his brown eyes and said, “Please. Please let me do this. She would have wanted me to do what I love.”

They didn’t argue after that.

Calum woke up the morning before they hit the road facing the side of the bed that would never be filled again.

He can’t sleep there. He hasn’t even made an effort to make the bed, holding on to the last outlines of where you had once been.

The sheets were ruffled and the comforter was pushed near the end of the bed, your pillow was propped up against the headboard where you had been sitting, drinking out of your coffee cup.

The coffee cup that still sat on the bedside table just next to your side of the bed.

A small tear fell from Calum’s eye as he noticed the ever fading lipstick stain on the rim. A subtle, but pretty pink that you always wore. The one that would sometimes stain his cheek before he went out on stage.

He wiped the tear and tried to smile.

Oh, what you’d say if you could speak to him now. “Wipe those tears away, Cal. You’ll be just fine.”

I’ll be just fine. Calum thought. Eventually, I’ll be just fine.

He got up from the bed, not bothering to prepare himself for the day yet.

His suitcases sat fully packed by the door; ready to be loaded onto the tour bus for the next few months.

He always had more suitcases than you did, for obvious reasons. But he swore you could fit everything you owned in that one little suitcase. A suitcase that wouldn’t be used again, and probably wouldn’t leave the closet.

Calum sighed, pushing away the thoughts and walking out of the bedroom. Trying to drown the thoughts of you out, like he always did, trying to think of anything else.

But he found walking down that hallway to make it especially hard.

In that hallway, in those photos, he swears he can see the ghost of you.

The first one hanging there is a picture of you and him that he used to find almost hilarious to behold. It was an older one, back when they were just getting big and he was still a teenager, it was one of you and him, taken when you were just a fan. Someone Calum didn’t think he’d probably ever see again.

But life works in mysterious ways.

The one across from that was the most recent, it was a selfie you took at Michael and Crystal’s wedding. Your tongue was hanging out of your mouth and you’d made you eyes cross, Calum was making a duck face, doing the same to his eyes.

It never failed to make him laugh.

Next was your first paparazzi appearance. You joked it was your claim to fame, being followed and snapped in a professional photo with Cal. It wasn’t anything special, really. Just a picture of the two of you walking down a street in L.A, holding hands and decked out in what was probably your laziest outfits ever. Calum had on a dark pair of sunglasses and you were smiling up at him, probably about to crack a joke to get that stoic look off his face.

The rest were either family photos, photos of him and the boys, you and your friends, or just silly pictures of the two of you together.

He tried to walk as fast through that hall as he could, trying to keep the tears from reaching his eyes.

But he couldn’t take them down. It might kill him.

He made it to the kitchen with little resistance and poured himself his own cup of coffee, trying to focus on the upcoming tour and not think about you.

He had deleted social media off his phone. He couldn’t take the constant notifications and reminders and apologies from fans. They missed you too, but Calum missed you an ungodly amount more.

He frowned when he saw the empty vodka bottle sitting on his kitchen counter. God his place was a mess. He needed to at least clean up before he left, maybe that’d get his mind off things.

Put on some music. Yeah, that’d be okay.

He finished his cup of coffee, washing the mug before hurrying off to get the other tasks finished before he had to leave.

He took out the trash, cleaned out the fridge, put away his dishes, swept the floors, vacuumed the floors, cleaned the windows, dusted the shelves.

All that was left was laundry.

He made it to the laundry room easily. But once he was in there, nothing was harder.

He filled a load with his dirty clothes, turning on the machine before tentatively reaching for the basket that held yours.

He blinked back tears when he noticed the old Zeppelin shirt sitting in there. The one that your wore when you ran away, and no one could feel your hurt.

“He’s a rockstar,” your family had said. “it won’t last.”

“I’m in love with him,” you had replied.

Too young, too dumb, to know things like love. Calum thought with a shake of his head. What did they know? But I know better, now.

Calum went through the rest of your clothes, a memory surfacing for almost each one. A old 5sos merch shirt that you’d worn on your first date, not even thinking about it. A pair of music note socks that he had a matching pair of. A pair of skinny jeans you had a love-hate relationship with. A white bra that you had thrown on stage at one of their concerts as a joke, only for it to end up catching on the neck of Calum’s bass.

He smiled at the memory. His entire face had gone bright red and he had looked down at you with an almost scandalized look. The other boys had to stop the song because they were laughing too hard.

He let your clothes lay back in the hamper after he was done. He didn’t see a reason to wash them yet.

But he tucked that old Zeppelin shirt into his travel bag.

He loaded his bags into the back of Michael’s car, ready to head to the bus. Crystal waved at him from the passenger seat, he waved back.

“You got your keys?”

Calum blinked, not even realizing he was going to need those now. “I didn’t even lock the door,”

Michael laughed, pushing his friend lightly towards his house again. “Go get them.”

Calum chuckled back, hurrying to do so.

It hadn’t even dawned on him that you wouldn’t be there to watch the house, that he needed to lock the door. He had already sent Duke to stay at Luke and Sierra’s but locking his door? He’d never even thought of it.

He grabbed his keys before pausing.

Yours were hanging there, too. A keychain with your initials on it dangling next to the keys.

He grabbed those instead.

“You ready for this, mate?” Ashton asked him as he slid into the back seat.

“Yeah,” Calum said, softly, caressing the keychain with his thumb. “Yeah, I am.”

And as Michael took off, looking back at his house, Calum could’ve sworn he saw the ghost of you.

***

The night was going great so far, the crowd was pumped up, screaming and hollering.

Cal had managed to get lost in the music, forgetting about his problems for hours.

Until the song he had been dreading all night.

He almost asked if they could take it off the setlist after he saw it.

But then they’d have given the sad, almost pitying look that they did when they talked about canceling the tour. And he didn’t think he could stand those looks again.

He took a deep breath as the piano notes began. He could do this.

“Let’s see those lights up in your hands,” Luke said, holding his arm up.

Calum reached his microphone and his breath caught in his throat.

Someone was holding a picture of you up. Almost as if they knew.

His eyes darted to a different part of the crowd only to find an even larger poster being held up and illuminated by the stage lights. It read your name, your birthday, and the day you-

Calum looked away again, trying to blink back tears.

“Wow look at all those-” Luke voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Wow, you guys, this is...”

There were maybe hundreds of posters or photos being held up now along with the phone lights.

“You know, this is my first concert without her in a long time,” Calum found himself saying into the mic. “And this way she’s still here. Thank you guys. Thank you so much.”

The fans cried out in response and Calum cleared his throat, saying to his bandmates away from the mic. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Singing the song, Cal hadn’t realized how much it fit his situation until just then. He hoped it wasn’t some screwed up sort of fate that they would write this song and then he would lose you.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” Luke sang. “Dancing through our house...”

“With the ghost of you,” Calum chimed in, mind filled with thoughts of you. He didn’t drown them out this time, he just let them come.

“And I chase it down, with a shot of truth. Dancing through our house, with the ghost of you,”

“Too young... too dumb... to know things like love,” He could feel the tears falling down his cheeks. “Too young... too dumb...”

“You go!” Luke shouted, allowing the crowd to sing the chorus.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” They sang and Calum hung his head back, trying to hide his tears as he listened. “Dancing through our house. with the ghost of you.”

You would have loved this. You would have said that it gave you chills, hearing the crowd sing such a haunting song back to them.

“And I chase it down with a shot of truth. That my feet don't dance...”

“Like they did with you.” Luke sang the last line with the crowd before the stage went black and Calum rushed off to the side of the stage.

The boys followed quickly, wrapping him in a hug after they reached him, and for the first time since you’d been gone, Calum let himself just cry. He didn’t push it down or wipe his tears, he just cried. He let his best friends hold him and he cried.

But just there, like everywhere, wrapped in the arms of his friends, Calum could have sworn he felt the ghost of you.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[liquid-luck-00]

Internet Friends

@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 4: Internet Friends

~~~~~~~~~~

You know the internet is a magical place. You can connect with people all over the world in a matter of seconds. You know what isn’t magical, your best friend enrolling you in a ‘coffee seminar’. Like seriously Adrien I love you like a brother so what the hell. I’m busy enough as it is without giving up my Saturday morning on the only day I have free for months.

Sure my school and social life is a flaming pile of garbage thanks to a little liar manipulating almost everyone who was my friend. So why, but if anything this little online seminar may just be the thing I need.

Okay not what I needed. The coffee seminar was apparently a coffee intervention workshop. Big surprise there, what was a welcome surprise was I wasn’t the youngest person there. Through out the entirety of the web seminar they sent private messages back and forth completely ignoring the speaker, only adding in when asked. Buy the end they decided to share emails, and that was how Marinette found herself a, hopefully, friend and at the very least a partner in caffeinated crimes.

She would mainly email Tim rants about school and the akuma. He at first tried to see how open she was to help, from the JLA, to come in and help the Parisian heroes. But she shut that down quickly by explaining how the villains powers work and how many of the heroes tend to be emotional when they fight even if they don’t show it.

He in turn ranted about his brothers and how they tried to hide his coffee and the stress of his work. Which sparked the conversation of what he did. Sure she was surprised when she found out her new friend was Tim Drake-Wayne so she decided to let him into her being MDC after he couldn’t find the designer and that he wanted a commission for a gala in a few months.

They ended up, either video chatting or messaging often to rant or brainstorm for their respective projects. Or just send each other dumb photos or memes to brighten the others’ day.

---

Mari doesn't know how this came to be but it did. She was walking along the second floor railing. She was going to meet Tim face-to-face as he was going to pick her up from school to do a fitting before sending out his suit.

He had messaged her that he was in front of the school. So she said to meet her in the court yard. To her dismay her classmates formed a half circle pinning her back to the railing.

"Seriously Mari, why would you do that?!" Alya screamed at her the eyes of the entire school and of a black haired blue eyed boy, now on their group.

"Do what exactly?" she questioned adjusting the straps of her backpack.

"I can't *sniff* believe you don't *sniff* remember, Mari. It was so mean *sniff*." Lila choked out burrowing her face into Kim's sweater, who looked disgusted with her.

"One, I still don't know what I supposedly did. And two, only my friends call me, Mari, and you aren't on that list." she turned to leave but they closed in on her. Unfortunately, Adrien and Kagami left earlier for a tournament. Luka was out of the country as was Chloe, so she didn't have anyone to break her out.

"You two aren't, but we are!" Alya shouted motioning to herself and the others In the class.

"We haven't been friends for years," she thought, unfortunately she said it out loud.

"What?!?" was chorused by the entire class.

So she took a breath. "There are only two people I consider friends within our class, both of which are not here. Why are you all surprised?" A tilt of her head and a perfect look of innocence crossed her features. "You all claim I'm a bully, why be friends with bullies. I'm just ripping off the band aid you are all to scared to touch."

"You're lying they are still your friends can't you see that!" Lila stopped sniffling and came to the class' defense.

"Really. I want them to think and think hard of the last time any of them sought me out to talk or hangout. Not tell me or accuse me of something, or demand clothes or sweets." They were all silent dead in thought. "The reason you can't is because it hasn't happened since Lycee."

"That's not true Mari, we are your friends," Rose piped in softly.

"DC we've been friends forever, this isn’t like you." Kim pleaded.

"Ya we were friends for a long time, so you should know I hate liars and I never lie." Everyone seemed to register her words.

"Oh get over yourself!" Lila snapped pushing her backwards.

The bad part, she was already on the edge so she was falling from the second floor. Fortunately for her, her time as ladybug along with being a gymnast since she could stand, her body reacted, her mind catching up a moment later. She grabbed a sprinkler pipe and turned a few times, held herself upside down and then swung again. Letting the bar go twisting in the air and shifting her backpack. Everyone on the first floor scattered to the edges of the courtyard to give her space to land without obstacles. As she finishes in a rollout to protect herself and her backpack now clutched to her chest.

"What was that!?" Lila screamed gripping the balcony railing, her facade completely dropped. Everyone else stood shocked silent, frozen in place, until one black haired blue eyed boy stormed up to the bluenette.

"Mari I swear the first time we meet up and you do that. God I am never going to leave you with Dick." Tim stormed up to her. "You are going to give me a heart attack."

"Hey Tim," she chuckled in response.

"That said I am sending this to him."

"Go ahead. Coffee?"

"You know me too well," he grinned as they began to leave the still frozen, still silent school yard. "So what are you going to do about them?" he jabbed a finger behind them.

"Dunno how much did you record?" she pointed to the phone clearly in his hand still.

"Since the first scream, but audio is kinda off from that far."

"I got that part covered," she took out her phone from her jacket pocket. Now her class started to move so both coffee addicted teens started to record again in case of anything.

"Who is this Mari?" Nino genuinely asked.

"He is a friend, and he can use that name unlike any of you."

"Best friend actually."

"You will have to fight Adrien for that title." she teased.

"I got Gami's approval. I can take Sunshine on."

"That was an acknowledgment and we all know it."

"Why haven't we ever seen him before then?" Alya snipped.

"I'm not from Paris, much less from France, if the accent didn't give it away. I'm visiting on a trip with my father and wanted to stop by." The two just walked away after that.

Who would have guessed that being forced into a coffee intervention seminar would result in gaining one friend and loosing a class worth of dead weight. And oh did it feel good to walk away from that toxicity. Unfortunately she still has to finish this last year of school before University. At least she has people she knows will stand beside her. All thanks to the magic of the internet.

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @miraculouspenta @adrestar @vixen-uchiha