#you remember kyle saying something along the lines of if you see him then it's already too late

[shotmrmiller]

thinking it was a good idea making now retired simon wear his old mask for role play but now you're kinda afraid because you can feel his eyes on you but he's nowhere in sight and being hunted in your own home is actually terrifying

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Drinks pt. 1: Kyle Gaz Garrick x android!reader

You had resigned yourself to your office since the incident. You had been nonstop reviewing the intel and data you had received for the piece of it that caused your the error so you could delete it before it messed up any more of your plans.

A couple days had passed and they went by in the routine you had observed. The 141 avoided you unless they needed you and kept any interactions at a professional level.

When you had finally found the piece of data and erased it, Gaz had already recovered.

You downloaded the recent data you had received into your processors and prepared to analyze them when there was a knock at your door. You unplugged yourself from the computer and called out to whoever it was.

"Sergeant Garrick." You nodded when he stepped in and he gave you a quick smile that you didn't return.

"Heard you've been working hard." He said and you nodded again. "Hope you don't feel too guilty about what happened."

"I want to fix my mistake so it doesn't happen in the future."

"You can't plan for everything, not in this line of work."

You titled your head. You wanted to argue that you could since that was what you were made for. It was your only purpose and before the incident, you had never failed. However, you understood that arguing about it could cause your true nature to be revealed, so instead you agreed.

"Just don't burn yourself out, yeah?" He offered you a smile that slowly fell when you didn't offer one back.

"Was there something you needed, Sergeant?" You asked, unsure of why he decided to visit you.

It was out of routine, out of pattern, especially because up until this point he hadn't exactly acted anything more than cordial with you. You had endless data and in it was everything about the 141, so you knew that Gaz tended to be on the friendlier side, however this different than the relationship that had been created between you both.

"Yeah, actually," he began and shifted on his feet. "I know you've declined before but I think you should join us for drinks."

"Why?" You blinked and he shrugged.

"You're part of the team and you've been working hard. I know you're just here to do your job but I think it'd be great if we got along."

You blinked. You hadn't thought about whether or not bonding with the team would make it easier to work than before. Not that you had much trouble with the job you were given, but it was different for humans, especially the 141.

The patterns you had recognized and from their backgrounds they all valued friendships and relationships in some capacity, something you had no capacity for.

"I see. If you think strengthening our relationship will increase work productivity then I will join you for drinks." You told him and his eyes widened.

"Really?" He scoffed when you nodded but a smile pulled at his lips. "I told Soap the puppy dog eyes would work."

You didn't say anything as he awkwardly chuckled to himself.

"We're going to a pub. Nothing posh." He explained and you noted the information. "We can walk together."

"Okay."

You didn't know what else to say and Gaz must've taken that as anxiety as he gave you a reassuring look.

"Don't worry, I doubt there will be a lot of people there." He said and you wondered if that would be comforting to you if you were human. "Worse comes to worse I can do the talking, yeah?"

"Yes."

Gaz stood in front of you for a moment as if he expected you to say something else. When you didn't, he nodded slowly and gave you an awkward smile before opened the door.

"See you tonight then."

"Yes...see you tonight."

Silence filled the room and you stared at the door.

You were not equipped for going out to drinks. You were only programmed to look at data and provide the best numbers, not socialize and make bonds with others. Judging by the way Gaz had acted in your silence, and from the other times you remembered how the other reacted, you would create unwanted tension that would potentially ruin the bonding experience.

The people who made you didn't except you to agree to something like this, so it wasn't in your programming.

You turned to the computer that sat on your desk.

What was in your programming was to take in information. You were every much machine and computer as the laptop was so if you downloaded the right information you could look it up whenever.

It was against the your coding. You were meant for data analysis only.

But if you stored the information about what to do when going to pubs and how to act in the setting separately to your data then perhaps you could get away with it once. For the betterment of the team.

You began to type of your computer and plugged yourself in.

A/n: does this make sense? idk i've never really written an android character before lol

[wendytestabrat]

why kyman is NOTHING like heiman (FROM THE VAULT [2020]) PT. 1

There’s A LOT of evidence that Kyman would be nothing like Heiman. First of all Kyle actually knows how to whip Cartman and get Cartman under control which Heidi did not know how to do. Every single time Heidi would bitch at Cartman he would get annoyed and not listen to a thing she says and try to get rid of her or get away from her. But Cartman LOVES it when Kyle bitches at him and he gets a kick out of it, and Cartman actually likes being around Kyle and cares about what Kyle has to say and listens to him. There are a lot of moments that show that Cartman is capable of expressing empathy and concern around Kyle, wheras Cartman gave 0 shits about Heidi and their relationship went absolutely nowhere. I think a huge example of this was when Cartman & Kyle were in the detention center, Kyle yelled at Cartman to go get him some aluminum foil and scissors and Cartman was like “aluminum foil and some scissors ok” because he saw how upset Kyle was with him and he wanted to fix things. Which rlly shows that even if they do fight and shit they would know how to work it out with each other and forgive each other over whatever happens. I think the only reason why Cartman likes to pick on and torment Kyle so much is to get his attention, but usually once Cartman does have Kyle’s full attention and Kyle goes along with whatever Cartman does, Cartman is nice and treats him with respect. And a hugeee example of this was in “Crack Baby Athletic Association” when Kyle joined Cartman for the crack baby thing, Cartman was really nice to Kyle throughout the entire episode and called him smart and stuff and gave him a hug and all that. And Cartman was listening to everything Kyle had to say and the things Kyle wanted to do for the company. The reason Cartman was tormenting Heidi was bc he just didn’t care about her at all and wanted her to go away LMAO. And we already talked about how in “Tonsil Trouble” after Cartman infected Kyle with aids he was all happy and in a good mood to get to go on a trip with Kyle and tried to hold Kyle’s hand. And another small example of Kyle actually being able to whip Cartman just like he did in “Mexican Joker”, was in “Raisins” when Cartman was making fun of Stan for being upset about losing Wendy, Kyle told Cartman to stop and so he did. And I’m sure there are a ton of other examples like this but those are the best I can think of right now, the bottom line is I’m sure if Kyman happened Cartman would listen to Kyle and respect him and be willing to do what he says. I mean I know it would probably be challenging for Kyle to deal with Cartman, bc we all know how Cartman is. He would still probably do whatever the fuck he wanted to do a lot of the time, but I’m sure he would still make an effort to listen to Kyle and take what he has to say into consideration. And do you really think that Cartman would be able to pull the shit he pulled on Heidi on Kyle? LMAOOOO Kyle knows Cartman wayyyy better than Heidi and can see right through his bs and Kyle always knows when Cartman is up to no good. Like remember when Cartman tricked Heidi into eating that ‘beyond kfc’ which made her fat? There’s NO WAY Kyle would fall for something like that, he would stop Cartman right away and call him out on what he’s doing.

[writingforcuteppl]

If This Was A Movie/How You Get The Girl

PAIRING: Kenny McCormick x Reader

SUMMARY: “And that’s how it works. That’s how you got the girl.”

GENRE: Fluff.

WARNINGS: None that I’m aware of.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k words

Act 1: If This Was A Movie

“Dude, you like Y/n?” Kenny locked his phone after hearing Kyle’s question. He thought no one could see his screen, but not everything could go as he wished. Kenny quickly hid his phone, but he knew it was already late. 

“Who’s Y/n?” Clyde asked, wanting to know what Kyle and Kenny were talking about.

“A girl who was our friend for what? Eight years?” Kenny only nodded. Clyde returned his attention to the screen in front of him. Kyle asked again at his lack of response, but this time in a lower tone so Clyde wouldn’t listen.

“Kenny, do you like her?”

“I dunno…” Kenny sighed. He really didn’t know. He may have seen you as a potential partner, but that was when you were 15. Now that he was 22, he felt more confused than when he was a teenager. “It’s just that recently I can’t get her out of my mind. A few days ago, I saw her with her parents walking down the street, and… God, she looked so pretty. I mean, she was already beautiful back in the day. But she looked more mature. And also, she’s been more active on her insta, and she seems so happy. There’s something about her smile that messes up with my head.”

“Dude, you do like her!”

“Fuck” the realization was something Kenny was trying to evade at any cost. It’s not that he hated the idea of you two dating. He’s scared, mainly because you’ve barely talked for years. What if you didn’t like him? How could he like someone he hardly has spoken to? “What am I gonna do, Kyle?”

“You have to do something, Ken.” Kyle could see how his best friend was scared. But maybe this was what Kenny had needed after so long, you. He knew something had changed within Kenny the moment you stopped talking, and seeing Kenny finally be honest with his feelings was refreshing to Kyle.

“Like what? What if she’s not interested? I mean, look at her. Someone like her definitely has people going after her.”

“I mean, yeah, she’s prettier than before… Answer this. Has she uploaded something regarding a potential partner or something along those lines?” Kyle asked.

“Well, not really. It’s always her friends or family. Not a single guy in sight.”

“There you go. Instead of pouting and looking at your phone screen. Do something about those feelings.”

“I think I like him, Wendy,” you confessed to your best friend.

“Who?”

“Kenny.” you heard a scream come out of your phone speaker, making you move your phone away from you.

“I KNEW IT. OMG. SINCE WHEN?”

“I think I figured it out a few weeks ago. I mean, he uploaded a photo of him in the gym, and god, he looks so fucking handsome. After that, I started to remember all the times we were together and how sweet he was. I know I tend to lie to myself, saying we were only friends back in the day, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I liked him back in high school.” you said worriedly.

“Why the tone? You should be happy you are finally being honest with yourself and admitting your feelings towards him.”

“I don’t know, Wen. Do you realize we haven’t talked in years? What if he doesn’t like me now? Hell, I don’t even know if I liked him back in the day. Now that the years have passed, how am I supposed to do something about my feelings? I think the best I can do right now is forget how I feel and see if it helps.”

“No. Sorry, but I’m not letting you suppress your feelings just because you are scared. We’ve never talked about Kenny properly, but now that the topic’s here, I want to know how you felt when he was your friend?” you sighed and started remembering everything.

“Well, He was protective over me. He always made sure I was ok and made me feel happy whenever I was feeling down. I remember the first time I saw him. It was second grade. He was so cute. I knew I liked him, even if, back in the day, I didn’t really understand what “liking” felt. I just knew it. But, of course, nothing happened. There was this one girl who told our teacher we were passing on notes, and we got in trouble. Fortunately, Kenny was smart and broke the notes into little pieces. We just had to make up a story regarding the legible words on the remaining pieces.” you smiled at the memory. “After that, I believe we had this mutual and unsaid agreement just to stop whatever we had going on. That’s why after that, we became best friends.”

“Why you never told me about that?”

“Well, it’s not like I remember every single memory with Kenny, you know? I remember that because it was the moment I knew nothing would happen between us.”

“But just because of that, you stopped liking him?”

“Wendy, I got in trouble for that. My mom never bought whatever lie Kenny and I came up with. She knew better. Wen, one of the pieces, literally had the word “love.”

“WHAT?” Wendy shouted once again, making you close your eyes.

“Wen, I swear to god you’re gonna leave me deaf if you keep shouting like that.” 

“Sorry, sorry. But care to explain the “love” part, please?” you sighed. You never told this to anyone. You thought it was going to be something you took to your grave.

“He told me he loved me” You knew what was coming next, so you removed your ear from the speaker.

“MY GOD!!! YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING! OMG OMG OMG.” You smiled at your friend’s excitement.

“I know!”

“But at that age, he knew what love was?” Wendy questioned.

“I guess so. At that moment, I just smiled at the confession, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized those were some strong feelings right there.”

“God, you do have a history with him… Now I understand why you keep thinking about him after all these years. He was basically your first love.”

“You think that?”

“Duh. It’s more than obvious.” That was something you didn’t like to hear. It confirmed your worst fear of all. He was something more than just your childhood friend. And Wendy was right. Kenny was someone who you couldn’t just forget that easily, not after he was your friend for years. “The more I hear about the two of you, the more I realize you are meant to be together. And now we have to make a plan for that to happen.”

“Can you just answer that damn story? You’ve watched it at least 15 times Kenny” Karen sighed tiredly. 

“What if it’s not for me?”

“Of course, it’s for you, you dumb….”

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I’ve known the two of you literally since I was born, and Y/n obviously likes you back. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t post everything she wants to do until she has a boyfriend for you to see.”

“What if it’s for another guy” Karen closed her eyes and counted to 10.

“Ok, first of all, is it just a normal insta story for everyone to see, or is it a “close friends” story?”

“Close friends”

“Great! Then you have your answer.”

“But what if she just forgot to remove me from her close friends?” Kenny felt really troubled. He was so in love with you, but he didn’t dare to be direct and say it to you. He’s been so heartbroken and lost so much in his life. He doesn’t want to lose again now that he has you back in his life. He preferred to have you as only his friend than to confess and lose you if you didn’t feel the same.

“Kenny, since when are you this scared of confessing to a girl?”

“Since it’s Y/n of who we are talking about.”

WENDY: Did he see it?

Y/N: Yeah

WENDY: And…?

Y/N: He didn’t answer to it.

WENDY: Ugh, I thought it was gonna work

Y/N: Me too

WENDY: I just don’t understand. He obviously likes you back

Y/N: Look, we just came to that conclusion from his CF stories. What if they were meant for someone else? And there’s also the fact that we just started talking after so many years of going no contact with each other. What if I just misunderstood everything?

WENDY: Don’t you even dare to begin overthinking about this. Wasn’t he the one who just posted, “If I added you to my CF, obviously I want to make out with you.” That was your opportunity to answer that story!

Y/N: I know, ugh, why am I like this? I don’t wanna blow it up. Not that he’s back in my life

WENDY: I know it was hard to have him back as your friend after so long. But it’s so obvious he likes you back.

Y/N: Who am I even kidding? I know, and I really like him too. I’m running out of ideas to make him confess, Wen.

WENDY: I just know the two of you are gonna be together. He’s just stupid and dumb and way too shy for his good, and it doesn’t help you are just like him.

Y/N: I’m gonna ignore that.

WENDY: You were made for each other.

Y/N: I swear to god...

WENDY: But on a serious note. From what you’ve told me, he’s a nice guy, yeah, horny, but you’re just as horny as him. And he seems sweet and polite when it comes to you. I know you are scared, but imagine how he’s feeling. I’m pretty sure he’s as frightened as you are. You told me you were the best of friends before you stopped talking.

Y/N: True, but what if he sees me only as his childhood best friend?

WENDY: Yeah, right. You don’t post about wanting to cuddle and kiss and do all the unimaginable to the person you like for your childhood best friend to see. He wants you as more.

Y/N: I don’t wanna get my hopes high, Wen. Not with him. I can’t lose him again.

WENDY: Think about it this way. Would you like to take the risk and be honest with him knowing he’s gonna say yes? Or never tell him how you feel and regret that decision for the rest of your life?

Act 2: How You Get The Girl

“Where are you going?”

“To see Y/n, I’m going to tell her how I feel.”

“Wow, hold your horse Kenny. First of all, I’m glad you finally made a positive decision in your entire life, but it’s raining. What are you going to do? Stand outside in the rain until she comes out, or what?”

“That would be pretty romantic, don’t you think?” Kenny smirked, putting on his sweatshirt.

“Yeah, and also pretty stupid, in my opinion.”

“She posted this story about cuddling while it’s raining, and as you said, it was meant for me. I’m going to her house.” Karen never saw her brother this determined. She knew nothing was going to stop him.

“You’re gonna get sick, Ken.”

"I don't care. I just want her by my side." Kenny said as he was exiting his house.

A million scenarios crossed Kenny’s mind. What if he just misunderstood the whole situation? A fear crept on the back of his neck. He was starting to get anxious. What if you did think he was insane to just confess out of nowhere? When he least expected it, he was at your front door. This was it. Now or never, Kenny thought. He knocked three times. 

You heard the knocking from your bedroom. You really didn’t want to open the door. But your parents were out, and you knew your mother was waiting for packages, still when you thought about it, no one in their right state of mind would deliver while it was raining outside. More to your dismay, you got up, and you were glad you did.

“Are you insane, Kenny?!” 

“Hi,” Kenny smiled at you, making your heart stop. God, you missed that smile.

“What are you doing here?” Kenny gulped at your question. He needed to take all the courage he had.

You felt your heart in your ears. You’ve only dreamt of this moment, but he was here. This wasn’t your dream.

“I… I want you. I don’t care about what happened between us in the past, and for the first time in my life, I’m more than sure I want you for worse or for better. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years, and I’ve missed you so much. I know we started to drift apart, but I know things happen for a reason, and whatever I’ve done led me right here. You may not feel the same, or maybe you do. I just know I would wait for you all my life until you’re mine.”

You smiled. You felt your heart wanting to get out of your chest. Droplets of rain started to fall from Kenny’s hair, and that was when you realized he was still standing in the rain. You quickly extended your hand to him, and when he took it, you made him enter your house.

“You’re soaking wet. You need to change your clothes as soon as possible. If not, you will get sick. Come in.” You started to go to the bathroom, but Kenny grabbed your hand, stopping you. He turned you around, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say anything, only looked at him in those beautiful eyes. Kenny started soaking your clothes, but right now, you have more important things to worry or be excited about.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he grabbed one of your cheeks and whispered, getting closer to you.

“Like what? Like how that was the most romantic but crazy moment I’ve had? Like how many times I’ve waited for something like this to happen? Or maybe I could say how I would also wait for you my entire life… Does that please you?” you whispered. He was so close to your face. You could feel his lips ghosting yours.

“You’re gonna get sick if you don’t shower and change your clothes, Ken.”

“I couldn’t care less.” his other hand grabbed your other cheek, cupping your face. You gulped as you saw Kenny lick his lips.

“Are you just gonna do something or-” Kenny only smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. Even if it was short, you still felt his lips lingering. You didn’t move, nor did he. It was as if the two of you wanted to remember this moment perfectly. The two of you just stayed there, smiling, standing like two idiots in love. Which you were.

“Wanna change and cuddle?” you asked him.

“So it was for me to see,” he smirked.

“Of course it was. You’re the only one that can see my CF stories. Well, Wendy can also see them, but she’s my best friend….” you saw Kenny with the biggest smile. It was like he just needed to hear that. And he did. He took a leap of faith, risking everything, and he was euphoric to know you also felt the same for him.

“Do you, maybe, want to be my girlfriend?”

“Yes. I would love to.” You wrapped your arms around Kenny’s neck, pulling him for another kiss. This time a longer and more passionate kiss. You’ve finally got the person you love the most back. And it was amazing.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

n a v i g a t i o n

[not-alien-girl-v]

can i request a break up make up imagine with kyle🥹❤️

warning: weird shit

note: alternate ending of this fic right here. basically if kyle never stopped y/n when she walked away. you don't have to read that one first, but i would recommend it. also i love inserting myself into these fics as a supporting character. you cannot stop me from doing this ever. leave a like please gang!!

now even more enraged than the moment she exited the car, y/n stomps after him.

when he sees her standing before him outside, she notices the gentle smile playing on his bruised face and she almost feels guilty for being about to yell at him, but soon remembers what he did.

"what the fuck is your problem?" she yells.

"you're my problem," he grumbles, picking himself off the ground an dusting off his jeans with the palms of his sweaty hands.

she ignores his almost cute quip. "you think you can just act like you fucking own me? like i'm your property? because i'm not, i shouldn't have to tell you how fucked that is, kyle!"

"so do you do this a lot? you flirt with random guys at parties. parties that i'm at? do you tell them you have a boyfriend before you blow them or what?"

"i'm not a slut, if that's what your implying. i've never done what you accused me of, not even tonight. we were having an innocent conversation when you came in like my fucking owner. but if that's what you think i do all the time, if you genuinely believe that, then maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

each footstep pounds on the pavement like a giant retreating into the clouds, but it's really y/n marching home. home to her house, where she wouldn't be treated in such poor conditions. somewhere where she'd finally get a little respect, something kyle was deficient in tonight, for some god forsaken reason.

kyle should have stopped her. he should have said something, grabbed her wrist, got on his knees, groveled, begged, pleaded. he would like to say the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream was the main suspect for this felony, but who was he kidding? it was all him, him and his stupid, stupid brain.

the next few days felt like a punishment from god himself, and kyle genuinely began to wonder if he displeased some higher power who has now showered him in eternal darkness.

sure, it was just that his girlfriend broke up with him and wouldn't return his - what was it, like 50? - calls to her cellphone, her home phone, her roommate's phone, even her mom wouldn't answer the line.

when one main source of happiness is briskly removed from one's life, one begins to realize how shitty said life is without it. his classes dragged along like a snail on a mattress left out to dry in the sun, with the lack of promise that one day he'll get his degree and a high paying engineering job that will support him and his (hopefully) future wife. now it was just a 2 hour class.

and what was he supposed to do out of class? the routine of texting his girlfriend first thing class ended was interrupted. who was he supposed to text now? his mom? not gonna happen. his frat brothers? unlikely.

not only was y/n his girlfriend but she was also his best friend, and he couldn't imagine a current life or any future possibility of a life if she wasn't by his side.

he was so screwed.

so, like any smart grown adult would, he went on wikihow. his fingers press into the black laptop keyboard, 'how to get my girlfriend to take me back.'

leave her alone

done, kyle hadn't spoken to her in days now.

2. start talking to another girl

not sure how that could possibly help his case, but he was open to it if that's what he needed to do.

3. tap your inner alpha male

kyle wasn't too sure he had one of those. if he had to guess, his spirit animal would probably be a hamster or perhaps a well-tempered gerbil.

as the article read, 'most girls are attracted to the alpha male for deep biological reasons: they believe he can provide for them better, protect them better, and give her biologically fit children. even if you don't think that alpha males are your ex's type, subtle changes might work on her: pump out your chest a bit, make an effort to work out your arms and thighs, and project strength.'

he would endure anything for her. and wikihow was never wrong, so this technique was a sure thing.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

the plan started with hitting the gym 3 times before making his move. once that same day he read the article, once the next day, and with one day of rest, he went back on saturday, the day he aimed to get her back.

in fact, he was fresh out of the gym, sweat still being the substance slightly gluing his clothes to his body, when he arrived at her house. he made the wise decision to skip step two, as he didn't want her to think he was moving on to other girls, which it would pretty much guarantee.

instead of ringing the doorbell, he pounds the door, hard, adrenaline moving through him, looking like a cracked up mad man. he knocks three times (three is his lucky number).

unfortunately, her roommate, violet, answers instead of y/n.

"oh. what are you doing here? and why do you look... like that?" she doesn't invite him in, in fact, she stands her ground center in the doorway, as if informing him that he was not welcome past the threshold like a vampire.

"i've got something to say to her, is she here?" kyle demands, perhaps a little too loudly, and violet gives him a look, but slowly nods her head.

"yeah she's here."

"well, can i speak to her?"

"i'll ask. but if she says no, you're out of here, got it?" with a solemn nod of his sweaty head, she closes the door, not locking it, but walking further into the apartment.

to his glee, y/n is the next face he sees when the door opens for the second time, and he can't help but notice violet carefully watching from behind a corner, lurking like a ghost, but ultimately judging his every move.

"kyle? are you okay? you look a little... frazzled." she speaks delicately to him. why do people keep saying that to him? he ignores the lack of anger in her voice, the fact that she's not slapping his stupid face right now like she probably should be. no, he's got something fresh on his mind.

his chest is puffed out, his voice firm and again, a little on the louder side, all details adding to y/n's concern, she worries he's contracted rabies or something horrible explaining why he's so sweaty and icky looking at her doorstep.

"i'm fine-"

"hey, come inside, let me take your temperature, you look like you have a fever," she doesn't let him finish as she yanks him in by the wrist, cringing at the dampness of it, but nevertheless, pushes him down onto her couch.

"you're really gonna let him get his funk all over my nice couch?" he hears violet whisper to y/n, something he assumes he's not supposed to hear.

"it's our nice couch, and look at him, he clearly needs medical attention right now."

"he needs your attention right now, go talk with him." violet ushers y/n over to him and he looks ready to present a long speech.

once y/n takes a tentative seat a comfortable distance from kyle on the couch, he starts. "look, I'm sorry-"

"i forgive you."

"what?" his shoulders slump a little bit but in a good way, like he's actually relaxed now.

"i forgive you. i can't stay mad at you forever. i was just too proud to say i was sorry for walking out, so i guess i was just waiting for you to say something first."

"then why didn't you answer my calls?"

"don't get me wrong, i was angry, i was really angry for the first few days, and i had every right to be, but i don't think i should have walked away from you like that. i felt like it showed i didn't value our relationship, and i do. i know you only ever do what you do because you love me. it's just hard to remember that sometimes."

"sweetie, i had a whole speech ready to win you over with. i read a wikihow tutorial, i went to the gym 3 times this week! stop making this so easy!"

"is that why you're so sweaty?"

he gives a playful glare.

"sorry, do you want me to be angry again so you can give your little presentation?"

"just come here," he opens his arms and begins to pull her in when he feels her tense and move away.

"how about a shower first?"

"really?"

"dead serious, baby. i love you, but you smell like shit. take a shower and maybe i'll let you make it up to me." a playful wink is all kyle needs to spring back to life, into the bathroom in less than a moment.

[danwhobrowses]

So I watched AEW All Access Episode 1

Gotta say I quite enjoyed it, you see the humanity of it all behind the curtain, which can work in and out of AEW's favour especially in a time where online speculation is rampant. Here's my hot takes though

I know Britt Baker and Thunder Rosa don't get along, while it's a bit malicious Baker does make a bit of an objective point. We all hated Toni having the 'Interim' label for so long and it was strange that Rosa couldn't work but still fly around doing PR, I can understand the irk of that especially when they're all working with injuries themselves and unclear on the nature of Rosa's own injury. I think people who want to hate on Baker are using this to double down on it, or make it about something else other than that they don't get along. It's not a positive moment for either side, and I am not on either side, but it is insightful.

Sammy and Tay are genuinely nice and supportive, and y'know I'm not surprised. I've kept on saying it over and over but people do struggle to draw the line between Sammy Guevara the heel and Sammy Guevara the person. I hope at least their excitement and their earnestness allows people to at least soften on all the outside-of-kayfabe hate.

It's interesting how they acknowledged how much association with Sammy derailed Tay's babyface run, as Sammy said it is unfortunate, we need to see more of her in the ring.

Anyone who thought that this show was gonna cover the Brawl Out in detail was fooling themselves, like honestly I don't think anyone in that locker room wants to talk about it let alone for TV.

We didn't see him speak, but there was something quite nice about Luchasaurus being there with the Bucks through backstage. I do miss the guy, hope the whole mask deal gets resolved.

Adam Cole Bay Bay too, he really laid it out for us all, talking about his parents' divorce, his fears about not wrestling, his brotherhood with Kyle, his relationship with Britt, the mental strength to shoulder the fact that he couldn't come back when he wanted to. AEW know what they're doing as well, Cole is gonna be the company's big babyface in due time, maybe even after DoN

So it's a good start, I'm interested to see who else they follow in this time, because I'd love to see them go through some other talents, not just your Eddies, Jades and Omegas but your Sakuras, Athenas, and Takeshitas. The key takeaway though is that Wrestlers are People. They play a character on TV but they are just as unsure, self-conscious and multilayered as we are, sometimes we have to take a moment to remember that.

[raisindave]

[Chapter 2] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

Calling it a “whole women’s dormitory wing” was bold. What you encountered was more of a broom closet at the end of a hallway, with all the modern amenities of ceiling tiling that you’re almost positive is covered with asbestos. On the bright side, you had the luxury of having a bathroom to yourself, diligently marked by a yellow sticky note taped to the door with the word “Women’s” on it.

The sound of the familiar beeping of your standard-issue wristwatch forced you to remember that you were in an unfamiliar bed. You slap your hand down on the watch beside your bed, lazily running your thumb along its edge to flick the off button. Begrudgingly dragging your sluggish body from the heavy comfort of your warm blankets, it was time to get up and report for duty. Whatever that duty was.

Stepping down your hallway, you spy the unmistakable classic military special of pale oak circular tables signifying a mess hall: pale green linoleum floors, creased and bumpy from age, wear, and harsh climate. Almost on queue, a chair screeched backwards, detecting motion as you rounded the corner.

“Salsaaaa, nice to meet you. I’m John, but you can call me Soap.” You couldn’t easily forget his mohawk hairstyle, paired with the thick Scottish accent aligning with the flag emblem on his profile. “That’s Kyle Garrick. We call him Gaz.”

Gaz smiled and raised a hand in a dutiful wave, rising to hike over to greet you. Tall, slender, with dark, kind eyes that didn’t match the vicious demeanour you’d expect with someone with his confirmed kill count.

“Big fucker is Ghost, but you’re welcome to call him-”

“We’re going rucking, be geared in 20,” ‘Big fucker’ interjected, commanding the air out of the room.

Your eyebrows furrowed, a sly smile tugging at your lips as your eyes darted to gauge the reaction of your newfound comrades. You hadn’t gone rucking in ages—one of the perks of being a specialist. There was no way they were saying you had to go rucking with them. The thermostat said the outdoor temperature was a crisp -32 c, and the sun had no intention of rising for at least another two hours.

So much for being “just a translator.”

Ghost finally rose, though you wish he didn’t. His size triggered your fight or flight response, and Ghost would raise your hackles if you were a dog. That pale, skeletal mask crudely stitched onto a dark balaclava was like something straight out of a nightmare. You can see how this mask might effectively intimidate enemies, but you struggle to understand why he’s wearing it around comrades. You keep your gaze forward and back straight as instinctive compliance kicks in. Heavy, rhythmic footsteps approached you.

“This isn’t a vacation,” he leaned forward, penetrating your field of view, “lives are on the line, Corporal.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Words were jutting out of you as if you’d just been punched in the gut.

Rucking is not for the faint of heart. At least, not for you. For all you know, it could be a piece of cake. However, specialists usually get a pass to dodge rucking requirements with the excuse of study or practice. Price must have assumed that position, seeing as he was absent. A lack of training, compounded by a beyond hostile climate, meant the pack of equipment on your back was immensely heavy, even at a stationary position outside the base, especially not at the ass crack of the morning.

Ghost was leading the group, three perfect soldiers dutifully wearing their snow camouflage like they were born to it. The three of them were elegant, armoured troopers, willing and able to snuff the life out of a person in an instant. You, however, look like a tire company mascot. The smallest possible issue for the thermal pants left masses of unused fabric on your ankles and wrists. At least the elastic-based balaclava was snug on your face. White puffs of steam from everyone’s mouths stated the obvious: It’s fucking cold.

The boys didn’t make it easy either, dropping into dead sprints at indeterminate intervals, scrambling up cliff faces. Digging the heels of your boots into the snow, a slide down a small hill offered an infinitesimal break from the weight on your shoulders, swiftly followed by the next task of rising to your feet and catching up.

Air burned into your lungs, scorching your throat and searing into your chest. Cold, sweet spit floods into your open mouth. It’s hard to think straight when every ounce of energy goes toward lifting each foot out of the sinking snow, but it’s harder even to consider having to scan for hypothetical enemies in this condition.

“I take it they don’t go rucking much in the Shire, hey Salsa?” Called a Scottish voice from the top of a sheer hill you hadn’t even considered climbing. That’s a tally of two jokes about your height, and it’s not even been 12 hours.

He’ll have to settle for stern eye contact as an answer, which he smirked back at and disappeared behind the hill. Lacking dexterity thanks to the subzero climate, gloved fingers fumbled to grip powdery snow as you heaved your knees up to support the climb. Hot puffs of white steam cloud your vision and the top of the hill.

The scenery was beautiful, at least. A moment's pause gave your body a short moment to stop aching in strain to let you consider the view. Cresting sun over the frozen territory, a blanket of muffling snow made the whole world sound wonderfully silent. This virgin wilderness is like something out of a Bob Ross painting, and it could almost make the rucking worth it. Almost.

“We head back to base camp. Keep up.” Ghost’s husky Manchester accent cut through the silence; it took your frozen mind a moment to register his barbed comment. His frigid gaze sends a chill through your core that the sub-zero climate could never achieve.

Downhill was easy until it wasn’t. The boys made it look easy, gliding over the snow like it didn’t affect them. They even had the nerve to talk while they outran you easily, Gaz jumping up to swat at heavy tree branches, dumping snow on Soap, who ran behind him. Their boots don’t even sink into the snow like yours do. They don’t fumble, or wheeze or sweat. It was Soap who approached your narrow field of view, he had turned around to wait for you to jog along.

Pockets of hot and cold air settled in all the wrong places. Sweat pooled under your blazing hot thermal jacket while the promise of frostbite kissed the exposed skin on your wrist. There’s something sickening about the overstimulation, screaming into your conscience with each step.

Wordlessly meeting his unreadable blue eyes, he gripped the back of your pack, heaving it free from your shoulders, slipping his arms through the loops. Featherlight relief flooded into you as you unburdened your shoulders from the pack. Having adjusted to carrying all the extra weight, you almost effortlessly kept pace, finally feeling the cold air fill your lungs.

You finally had the opportunity to take in more details of your comrades. The three were nearly indistinguishable from behind, all in the same standard-issue winter armour and gear built for this type of climate. However, Ghost clearly stood about half a head taller than the other two, striding through the snow in steps that counted for two of yours. Gaz bounced along, only tailed by Soap, who seemed entirely unfazed by the extra weight. Showoff.

“Sergeant.” Ghost barked, jolting you to attention.

Raising your gaze once again, you caught Soap as he shrugged off your extra pack in one fell swoop, holding it limply toward Ghost. Sometimes, it was hard to tell if Ghost was mad; his resting demeanour seemed agitated. In this case, he was pissed off. That much was written in stone. The way he turned and locked his gaze on you, it sucked heat out of your face. Closing the distance between you two in only a few steps, his immense height blocked out the sun as he stood the closest to you since you started rucking before the sun was even up. Looking up at him through snow-covered eyelashes, he flicked his arm, flinging your sack into your chest, knocking the wind from your lips.

“Toughen up.”

For the remaining distance, you put your heart and soul into keeping pace, refusing to allow yourself to consider slowing down and risking the wrath of the Lieutenant. At this point, you were running on the fumes of shame and sheer willpower.

It took the remaining strength you had not to drop and lay on the floor like a starfish. Alas, once again, appearances take priority as you tried to go for that smug nothing hurts me disposition despite the situation on the hike. Pushing closed your quarters' door, you finally shuck off the remaining thermal layers after returning your body armour and pack bashfully to Ghost in the makeshift armoury. Peeling off the second pair of pants, you lay on the cot, overworked muscles radiating heat, thighs scorching to the touch.

Rifling through your bag for a fresh edition of the same standard t-shirt and pants you’ve been prescribed for years, eyes caught the white envelope Laswell handed you yesterday. You clumsily ripped the seal, unfurling a new SIM card, and a smile warmed your face. At least you’ll be able to make a call. It made you wonder if she knew you’d be on edge and needed a pep talk from a familiar voice. If it’s 09:00 here, it’s got to be… 22:00 in California. With luck, he’ll pick up.

On days like this, Uncle Chucky was your lifeline. A voice of reason, a bastion of wisdom, a tad bit of an alcoholic, and someone who’s been in the military since before you were conceived. Chucky is the kind of person that makes the world go round,’ but too much of him will drive you crazy. Delightfully stubborn, pleasantly infuriating, and a damn good sense of humour. The familiar phone number was an effortless dial.

“What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m usually so confident, so sure-footed, I’m so on edge, and they can tell.” Your voice was thick with irritation, picking at your fingernails with your phone pinned between your shoulder and ear.

“You said you felt on edge when you first landed in Somalia, but those nerves passed the second you started working.”

“Somalia was different. I had other specialists with me, not just soldiers.” You kick the toe of your boot on the doorframe, “not to mention other new faces with which I could blend in. This time, I'm the sole outlier.”

“That’s the thing when you get yourself in the military, my love.�� An audible sigh came from his side microphone before he spoke again. “The big fish picked on the little fish. Eventually, you survive getting pecked at long enough to chirp at the people below you.”

“It’s fucking gross. It’s like a boys' club. I’ll never be in their circle, not really.”

“That’s it, I’m pulling the plug,” you shook as an unbecoming booming voice rose from the speaker, “Enough with the pity party. They’re testing your limits, and you’re letting them win. Get - a fucking - grip, Lua.”

Your head spun at the change of tone, enraptured by shock as his burst of agitation faded into something more patient.

“Baby love, I know you can do this, and if you weren’t qualified, they wouldn’t have chosen you.” Chuck breathed into the mic, stifling a laugh before speaking again, “Y’know, in my final years in the Marines, whenever someone tried to puff up their feathers at me, I’d imagine them crying listening to Mr. Brightside. Works every time.”

Laughter erupted from you as your mind wrapped around the sentiment. A gentle tear streaming down Ghost’s mask as he hiccuped back tears, listening to the whimsical musings of The Killers. Calmness and confidence swirled into your chest, breathing a satisfying breath for the first time in what felt like months.

“On the Brightside, heh, I got a stupid little nickname for being a fucking moron at my first meeting… They’re calling me Salsa now. Apparently, I was slipping and fumbling, and it looked like dancing.” You smirked, nipping at the raw skin around your fingernails.

The unmistakable snort of someone inhaling their drink in laughter burst from your speakers.

“They call you Salsa?”

“Mhmm.”

“My love, Salsa is … “ he smothered a laugh.

“What?”

“Salsa is an acronym. It- it means ‘Student Aviator Lacking Situational Awareness,’ they’re fucking with you.”

A spark of shame sliced across your brow. You thought they were being sweet and endearing… giving you a cheeky nickname to welcome you to the crew. The reality was a thinly veiled malicious jab at you. They found humour in your nerves about being a lone female, surrounded by strangers, in a place where nobody would be able to find you if you disappeared. As quickly as your shame faded, a new emotion manifested: white-hot rage.

“I gotta go. I love you, Chuck, I’ll be in touch.” swallowing your bile to donate the last few moments of calmness to your precious uncle before the end call button clicked. Like that, you shrugged into your quarter-zip and tore down the hall.

They had the nerve to be in the gym as if the morning ruck you’ll feel in your bones for days was a lazy evening stroll. Something about how they carried on as best buddies, humiliating you in code while smiling to your face, made your blood boil. It made you question if Soap knew Ghost would give you an earful if he took your pack off your back.

“Y’know, that’s real fucking sweet of you,” your voice cut into the small gym. “Pretending to be nice to me.”

Stepping forward, you closed the distance as eyebrows furrowed over blue and brown eyes. They even had the nerve to look shocked, their dumbfounded faces looking like a deer in headlights. Your jaw worked before you spoke.

“Salsa… Student Aviator Lacking Situational Awareness?”

Soap huffed out a laugh, but a sharp look from Gaz extinguished his smile.

“Funny, it takes a big man to make a girl feel like shit as soon as I step into your little clubhouse. Don’t worry, I won't be here for long.” Take extra care to accentuate every syllable, resting your palms resting on your waist to avoid the possibility of you throwing a fridge at them.

“We were just being cheeky,” Gaz spoke up for the two, “didn’t mean anythin’ by it.”

“Cheeky? Picking on someone who’s burdened with having a different skillset from you. What’re you, five?” You spat back.

“We’ve all been jabbed at when we’re the new guy, we’ve all been at the butt end of some banter.”

You bit back the creeping urge to spit back that your situation is nothing like his. Of course, those two knuckleheads didn’t have the empathy to grasp the situation from your perspective. You blinked, simmering in your thoughts. Wrath, translating into a simmering rage, washed into you. Working your jaw from side to side, you ended the silence.

“Cheers.”

Before anything had time to register, you were walking down the hall toward your linen closet of a bedroom, fingernails digging into your sweaty palms. White hot rage darkened your vision, electrified by a simmering sense of self-consciousness. In an instant, you snapped out as you caught Laswell’s gaze past your furrowed brow, dissolving your demeanour, manifesting your most polite smile to shield her from any indication that everything isn’t peachy. You took the opportunity to duck into the bathroom. Despite her unique ability to follow you, you deemed it a safe option. However, you genuinely had the excuse to take a much-needed shower. A precious opportunity that you refused to let pass.

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Master List

[roostertuftart]

13(Kyle?) 20, and 27?

13. Unpopular opinion about Kyle?

GOOD QUESTION, because wow is he a spicy character to have ANY opinions on right now...

Ummm Gonna lean into something I wanted to say earlier about him when I was talking about Kyman, because I don't see this factor of his character really given attention by either kymans or styles (where the fandom is most prominently divided on Kyle, I think) and I kinda feel in between it as a big shipper of Style who's also really intrigued by the complexities of Kyle and Eric's dynamic.

And sorry if any of my language comes off anti any ships here, I just want to work off of the debate I've seen between both of them to talk about this but I'm not trying to step on any fingers here!!

I've seen it said often as an argument for Kyman that Kyle is absolutely obsessed with Eric back, and I've seen in turn Styles often like to downplay Kyle and Eric's dynamics entirely or act like it's completely insane to suggest this idea- But I kind of agree Kyle is???

Personally, what I think is that Kyle absolutely is obsessed with Eric, what he's doing, what he's up to, who he talks to, etc, but I just don't think this is due to some sort of underlying romance. I think Kyle is meant to be portrayed in the show as being incredibly invested in what Cartman is up to because

Kyle has made it his personal mission to fix Cartman/keep him in line. He often seems to believe it's his job to guide him into doing better, keep him out of trouble, keep him from hurting people, and keep him from getting hurt himself (though I think this comes out of Kyle giving into his guilt watching Cartman actively suffering, there's also been multiple times Kyle encouraged him to get himself killed)

I just think Kyle is genuinely nervous about Cartman. Now this isn't particularly obvious- It's not like we see Kyle showing any real signs of fear around Eric, but I do see signs of anxiety that are far more subtle- The important thing to remember here is that Kyle rarely show's many negative emotions beyond anger. It's how he processes many things, and when anger doesn't work, we often see him shut down emotionally (Ex. scenes in The List and Ginger Cow). This isn't to say Kyle never shows sadness/fear, he definitely does! But these tend to come out more in specific situations where as more often, he represses these emotions and keeps his vulnerabilities out of obvious reach. Idk, I'm rambling a bit here but the point is that I think a lot of Kyle's quickness to get so angry and worked up over Cartman, his need to know what he's up to and try to jump on it is a reaction done out of anxiety that I'm not even sure Kyle is aware of. I think this is especially prevalent in say, Post Covid, where we see Kyle has seemed to gotten a very good control over his anger and aggression UNTIL he has to face Eric, to which immediately he is paranoid and jumping on everything Eric says to him, refusing to believe anything he sees and positive it's some jab against him that he'll pay for the moment he give in to believing it. And I don't think this is unfair of Kyle! Of course he's distrustful! Eric has put him through a lot, fooled him many times, and Kyle just can't keep it together anymore the moment he has to speak to him. Just... The entire meltdown of this calm collected persona he's been managing along with his paranoia just comes off so much as anxiety to me. Not to mention, I do think Kyle has anxiety he's not aware of. The way he describes anxiety as normal in Buddha Box and goes into detail what is "normal" to feel like... "Everyone has anxiety! Everyone gets nervous! Everyone is afraid being around people! Everyone has feelings they'd rather stay home alone! And you know what they do? They get over it." Damn Kyle. Get therapy honey. You need a Xanax or something. None of that is normal and the fact that he has become so deluded to believe it is is pretty tragic, but kind of supports that he doesn't even recognize the feelings making him act out so aggressively as an anxiety response.

Anyway TLDR Kyle is obsessed with Eric because of paranoia and anxiety/his need to be a good person and "fix" him

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?

k2 next question

nah but seriously, this ship has no discourse, the nicest shippers... Is just as a ship genuinely super sweet and nice and wholesome and lovely, Kenny and Kyle just feel like characters who really understand each other and function well together. I love them and I love K2 shippers.

27 is right here!

Based on this ask list :)

[siremasterlawrence]

Phase 1.1 The Truth Revealed

Today on the Lawrence Kyle Variety show we are on a precipices for something that is amazing about to unleash onto the world from me.

The camera pans onto me along with my new guest Ashley Taylor some tall, sexy and super cute guy sitting in the chair across from me.

A serious expression is pierce on his face he is very attentive staring at me with curious like eyes swirling through the area he won’t move from eye line.

I cough pacing myself facing him I knew all of my life plans are unveiling today with the introduction of my new creation Ashley Taylor.

He is fully automated android built to serve in always possible, he can download any new information, and become programmed for anything.

He stood up spreading his lips into a smile so wide and opening showcasing his white teeth. He raises his right hand in the air to wave at us.

I smirk remembering all the time, money and the effort it took to get this project to be fully funded. I love seeing the parts arrive at my facility.

I drag them into the main laboratory using a hook to undo the box at the four parts of crate full to the side revealing the parts crash to the floor.

I began to grab each piece placing on the lab slate moving the tool slate to my side and begin to build him along with my first few assistance.

“Hello Everyone! I would like to introduce to my new friend.” I say pointing to him.

“Hello friends! My name is Ashley Taylor. Mr.

Kyle’s personal Android.” He says to a crowd lost in a sea of quiet.

“Wwwwwwooooooaaaaahhhhhhh!” The lot of people in the crowd screams in shock.

“Yes, it’s true this has been the highly secret project I have kept in the dark.” I admit.

“He is a God to me!” Ashley continues.

“Ooooohhhhhhhh My God!” The crowd yells.

“Take it off…take it off” the crowd howls.

“You want it?” I question them a bit.

“Yyyyyyeeeeessssss” I can hear taken shout to the heavens above.

Ashley turns to me looking for agreement for

him to take action, I shake my head as he is jumping up, and his hands grip the buttons off the shirt.

He unbuttons one at a time slowly letting his hand slip till his shirt pops open sliding the shirt off as he bust a move rolling to each side.

He spins his feet off the floor turning his back to shake his ass, placing his hand on his belt and he dances out of his tight jeans till all is left is his underwear.

He slid across the floor doing a bit of dance spinning on the floor he clicks his fingers and licking his lips. He kicks his left sock on to the cold floor.

He steps on the other slipping it off the floor in a way, he does another one shaking his butt, and rips off his underwear.

He tears off his shirt revealing those sexy well tone abs for the world to see because he is worth millions of dollars.

“I think they love it sir! Did I please you?” He asks me.

“You did a exceptional job on me side the work was worth it.” He states.

“Hhhhmmmm! Getting more sentient by the day I see.

“Is that bad?”

“No it is perfect! You are the world to me”

“Ashley Taylor you are my prize”

“Loving it sire”

“Can’t wait to pound you tonight “

“Please do sir! Please “

“I am all yours”

“Instruct me, command me and more “

“My best creation “

The end

Dropping Second In Universe Story Wednesday look out for it.

[kyleyangs-a]

TASK002: POLICE INTERVIEW

TIME: 28.06.23, MID AFTERNOON WHO: YANG, KYLE LOCATION: NIGHTREST POLICE STATION

Where were you last night, June 27th? Can anyone confirm this?

"I was at home." Alone, for once. Except his night of peace with his phone turned off came to bite him in the ass come morning. "I'm sure my neighbors can confirm it."

How do you know Azra Nadir?

"Who doesn't know her? She never shuts the fuck up," Kyle mutters, clearing his throat and realizing it probably wasn't the right thing to say given what had happened. "We slept together once. Other than that, we lived in the same town. Everyone knows everyone to some extent."

When and where did you last see her, or speak to her?

"Who the fuck remembers that?" Kyle points out, thinking that the police's line of questioning was stupid, causing him to roll his eyes. "You think I pay attention to what happens around here? I don't know, maybe at a bar or club or something. She sticks with her other rich prissy friends most of the time."

Do you know anyone at all that she did not get along with?

For once, Kyle pauses and remembers the text he'd woken up to. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it was a bad look. Kyle didn't want to believe that she did this. Vera's name is at the forefront of his mind, but it refuses to slip off his tongue. He had more questions right now than he had answers, and the police were the last people he'd share any information with. He clears his throat, setting his hands on the table and shaking his head. "No. Like I said, I don't keep up with all that."

[vrisrezis]

Hey 👋 I was wondering if I can request a Yandere post COVID South Park x reader with Kenny Stan and Kyle pls 🙏

Yes <333 love these mfs (tw for stalking, r*pe, drugs, toxic relationships, murder )

Stan doesn’t like people much, I imagine he would be the type of yandere that may want to isolate you from others and tends to be a very jealous yandere as well, he’s not very happy with himself and his appearance so he gets jealous easily. He’s not the manipulative type though, I think he’s honest and says it how it is and may cause a lot of arguments in your relationship, he comes to many conclusions and believes you’re cheating on him or something along those lines. The problem with his honesty is that he comes across as ridiculous, jumping to insane conclusions, it’s obvious he’s paranoid in your relationship and picks fights with you. You could be looking at another man the wrong way and he’ll pick a fight. Being with him is exhausting, but he will never let you go and he will never leave you alone even if you break things off with him.

Kyle is jealous too, it really doesn’t help he’s more prone to anger. While he would never resort to violence against you, who’s to say he wouldn’t against others if absolutely necessary? Kyle is downright possessive, and likes being around you at all times. He is unlike Stan, not very honest and tries to act like he’s normal and not jealous. Because Kyle understands that he’s in the wrong and knows he’s getting out of control, but it’s not like he’s just gonna stop it? Why would he? He’s just in love! It seems like Kyle had this weird idea of knowing what he does is wrong, but also feeling justified for it. Kyle tends to manipulate you as well, and tends to act like you’re completely helpless and incapable of doing anything, which results in him babying you, and sometimes talking down to you, like there’s certain things you’d never understand. He acts like you’re being unreasonable when he threatens some guy, but you’re just not able to comprehend what he’s doing for you.

Kenny is a stalker ish yandere, his younger self is better at being a stalker given the quiet nature and such, but nowadays everyone knows who he is which makes this a lot tougher. Thankfully with years of experience he’s a sweet talker, on top of that he’s got a lot of people that can do his job for him and claims you’re somebody people need to keep an eye on because he’s suspicious of you. Even if you just seem like a normal everyday person. I think he would try to eventually form a bond with you after stalking you long enough and trying to see the things you like so he can easily strike up a conversation, his goal is to kinda hook up with you and lead it into something more, so he’s not against drugging you just to make it happen. But he knows so much about you, sometimes he slips up but it’s usually something you can let slide. Sure you don’t remember telling him that much about your job but hey, maybe you forgot. Kenny has a lot of faith in you, so out of the three he is the least jealous, but he still gets jealous quite a bit from time to time. Anyone he feels is a threat is eliminated.

[twiixr4kidz]

Could you please do the evil exes + envy confessing their feelings for the reader?

yes yes yes!!

the evil exes + envy confessing their feelings for the reader <33

matthew patel:

he's so cute about it

he'll give you a dorky not with hand-drawn hearts around the edges that says something corny

"you're pretty, i'm cute, together we'd be pretty cute. wanna be my s/o (or whatever)"

lucas lee:

remember how lucas approached ramona after punching scott during the movie? that's exactly what he does to you

"so, i got a new movie playing in theaters... wanna see the preview with me?"

he's so casual and cocky but he's mentally freaking out

todd ingram:

he'd casually ask if you wanted to go on a date with him, just to "see what it's like to date a rock star"

at the end of the date, he'd probably take you on a walk through a park and ask you if you had fun, if you'd wanna do this again sometime

he accidentally lets it slip that he wants to ask you to be his s/o and he doesn't even realize it until you respond

roxie richter:

she's so excited to ask you out

"so, i heard there was a new sushi place opening up! wanna check it out with me? not as friends though."

she then realizes that it sounds like she doesn't wanna be friends with you

"i meant as a date, dummy. so, you wanna go?"

kyle+ken katayanagi:

kyle would do something slightly extravagant, while ken would keep it more casual

kyle would take you out on a date to like, a fancy dinner and then a movie and then for a walk in the park and once the date was over, he'd ask you to be his

ken would just pull you aside to confess his feelings

gideon graves:

he acts so nonchalant??

i feel like he wouldn't even ask? he'd just say "you're mine now" and that's it

envy adams:

she definitely made it obvious beforehand

she flirted with you A LOT

she'd probably just pick a night to hang out with you, and while she was being flirty, she'd say something along the lines of, "y'know, i'm not joking about what i've been saying. i like you, a lot."

[ragingbookdragon]

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

[prouvaireafterdark]

We’ll Let the Flame Burn Once Again - a 3x07 Coda

My take on 3x08, with 100% more bed sharing, love confessions, and blow jobs than I’m sure canon will give us tomorrow.

Also on AO3!

***

Alex is halfway through the file on the Lockhart Machine when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Michael’s name flashes across the screen like an accusation when he digs it out of his coat.

“Fuck,” Alex sighs. He’d been so preoccupied with being kidnapped and faced with a life-changing career dilemma he’d completely forgotten that he’d never returned Michael’s voicemail or given anyone an update on the Kyle situation.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back, I—” Alex starts when he answers the phone, but Michael cuts him off. 

“Are you home?” Michael asks sharply. He sounds panicked and out of breath, like he’s just been running for his life.

“Uh, no,” Alex answers. “Why, what’s wrong?”

The laugh Michael lets out is strangled and more than a little hysterical. “Better question would be what isn’t, but I’ll give you the cliff notes: Jones took over Max’s body and now he’s trying to kill us.”

“What?” Alex asks, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Oh, and he’s also my fucking dad apparently,” Michael continues.

“What?” Alex says again. If that’s true, Alex has a few questions about where the hell those curls came from. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Michael says bitterly before he adds, all in a rush, “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, but if he’s trying to get to me it’s only a matter of time before he goes after you and something tells me I won’t be able to build a bomb to get you back this time. You need to get somewhere safe, somewhere he won’t be able to find you.”

Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know about our history? Alex wonders. 

He looks around at the wooden beams of the abandoned barn-turned hospital room he’s currently stuck in as he replies, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t think he’ll be able to find my location.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Alex assures him. If he knows Ramos half as well as he thinks he does, he’s pretty sure this building wouldn’t even show up on a map. “Where are you going to go?” 

“No fucking idea,” Michael says. “My place isn’t safe and neither is Isobel’s so maybe we’ll just find a motel for the night or something until—“

“No, don’t do that,” Alex interrupts. “He’ll probably be expecting that and with Max’s face he’ll have access to police resources. If he’s motivated enough, he’ll track you down by the end of the night.”

Michael lets out a loud sigh before he says, mostly to himself, “Fuck Max for being a fucking cop,” frustration heavy in his tone. “You got any other ideas then?”

Alex considers that for a moment before he remembers the cabin Jim left him. It’s not a top secret military bunker, but it’s remote and about as secure as they can hope for right now.

“I do, actually,” Alex says at last. “Where are you right now?”

“The hospital,” Michael answers. “Maria’s fine, Liz and I just checked on her.”

“Okay good,” he says. “He probably won’t attack you if you’re in a public place so just stay there and wait for my call, okay? There’s something I need to take care of and then I’m all yours.”

Alex cringes at his own wording, but Michael doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay,” he says. “Just—hurry?” 

“I will,” Alex promises. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Michael replies, and then the line goes dead.

Alex turns back to his phone screen and pulls up his contacts. He hesitates for a minute, asking himself if what he’s about to do is really the right choice.

But then he thinks of Michael and how much easier it would be to protect him with access to all of the resources and intel Deep Sky has to offer. If Jones is even half the threat he seems, Alex has a feeling he’s going to need all the help he can get.

Alex makes the call. It rings twice before he gets an answer.

“Have you made up your mind then?” Ramos asks, foregoing a greeting entirely.

“I’m in,” Alex says, projecting confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “Now do you think I can get a ride back to my car? I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Thirty minutes later, Alex leaves Kyle in Ramos’ care and hits the road. He’s careful not to speed too much—the last thing he needs is to get pulled over right now—but he’s definitely pushing it.

Alex had called Michael back while he waited impatiently for Ramos and gave him instructions on how to get to the cabin—an indirect route with minimal traffic cameras along the way. Looking at the clock on his dashboard, Alex guesses Michael will probably have already let himself in by now.

Sure enough, Michael’s pick-up truck and Isobel’s SUV are already parked outside by the time Alex pulls into the dirt path he calls a driveway. When he opens the front door, he sees a small crowd of people in his living room, all wearing various expressions of exhaustion and defeat.

Rosa has her boots propped up on the coffee table next to Michael’s hat where she sits in the armchair in the corner, her eyes trained on Liz who looks to be wearing a hole in the carpet with all of the pacing she’s doing. Michael is sitting with Isobel on the couch, her head resting heavily on his shoulder and her arms drawn tight across her chest. 

They all look up at him as he steps over the threshold, but Michael’s the first to react, his back straightening against the couch the moment he lays eyes on him.

“Alex,” he says, little louder than a whisper. Alex feels the sudden desire to pull him into his arms. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Alex says, closing the door behind him. “It’s a long story, but I found Kyle.”

“You found Kyle?” Liz asks, her eyes wide as she takes a step closer to him. “Where is he?”

“With his uncle,” he answers.

“His what?” Rosa asks at the same time Liz says, “Kyle doesn’t have an uncle.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Alex says. 

This time of night, Alex figures they could all use a pick-me-up, so he heads to the kitchen and gestures for them to follow. 

While he gets the ancient coffee pot going, he can hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor behind him as they all find a seat at the table in the middle of the room. There’s an empty seat next to Michael when he goes to sit, so he takes it, figuring it’ll be easier to stay focused on the task at hand if he doesn’t have to look directly at him.

As he sits down, he catches Michael’s eyes shifting toward the dusty bottle of whiskey on top of the fridge, but he surprises him when he doesn’t ask for it. Alex isn’t sure if that’s for Rosa’s benefit or his own, but either way he can’t help but feel a little proud of him.

They talk for what must be hours, starting with Kyle and Alex’s involvement with Deep Sky and ending with the shit show that went down with Jones tonight. It’s a lot to process, for all of them, but they do manage to come up with a plan for tomorrow. 

Michael is understandably suspicious of Deep Sky, but after Alex relays what he learned about the Lockhart Machine’s origins in Caulfield, he wants to get his hands on it. The idea of working so close to him makes Alex nervous for more reasons than one, but Michael’s right—he needs his help if he’s going to make any meaningful progress before the other shoe drops with Jones and pretending otherwise is going to get someone killed.

Liz, for her part, is eager to dive into the science to see if there’s anything she can do to help Kyle, so Alex will take her to the barn in the morning before he and Michael tackle the Lockhart Machine. 

With no leads on where Jones took Max’s body, Isobel and Rosa decide to check on Maria and see if there’s any progress they can make on freeing her from the hold Jones has on her mind. 

It’s as solid a plan as they’re capable of making with what they’ve got, so the moment Michael yawns behind the grimy bandana on his hand Alex is ready to call it a night.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” Alex says. He pushes back from the table and starts collecting coffee mugs to put in the sink as he continues, “There’s a guest bedroom down the hall and an extra bed in the secret bunker under the coffee table in the living room for people to crash in.”

“The what under the what?” Liz asks, bewildered.

“Alex Manes, do you have a sex dungeon in your basement?” Isobel asks, sounding intrigued and a little impressed before she grimaces suddenly and turns to Michael. “Ew, wait, did you know about this?”

Alex resolutely does not look at Michael as he sighs, “It’s not a sex dungeon.” 

He considers telling them about the room’s true intended purpose, but decides against it—there’s been enough revelations about distant fathers for one evening. 

“It’s just an extra bedroom,” he continues, before turning to Liz and Rosa. “The bed down there is big enough for two people to fit in if you guys don’t mind sharing. The bed in the guest room’s just a twin, so it’d be a tighter squeeze.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rosa shrugs, eyes on Liz as she continues, “As long as you don’t steal the covers.”

“Oh come on, that was one time when I was seven,” Liz protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Isobel interrupts their sibling banter to say, “Dibs on the guest room then. Sorry, Michael, you’re on the couch tonight.”

Michael shrugs like he expected that, but Alex stops him with a hand on his arm as he goes to walk toward the living room.

“No, take my bed,” he says. Michael’s eyes drop down to where Alex’s hand has caught his forearm and Alex lets him go. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What?” Michael asks, cocking his head so his curls fall into his eyes. “No, I’ll take the couch. Sleep in your own bed.”

“Michael, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch after the day you’ve had,” Alex argues. “You need a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

“And you don’t?” Michael counters. “Besides, if you sleep on that lumpy-ass couch you’re definitely going to fuck up your leg and I think we can both agree that that would be kind of a problem if Jones catches up to us.”

Alex sighs and tries to stare him down, willing him to let him do this for him, but Michael just keeps defiantly meeting his gaze.

“Oh my god, would you two shut up and just share the bed if the couch sucks that much?” Isobel asks and they both turn to look at her in shock. “It’s not like it would be the first time,” she adds under her breath.

Alex shares another look with Michael and waits a moment for him to react, to give any sign he wouldn’t be okay with that. 

All he does is shrug and say, “I’m game if you are.”

If he’s honest, Alex has no fucking idea how he’s supposed to get any sleep lying next to Michael all night—his stomach is already in knots just thinking about it—but he nods his head anyway.

“Alright,” Alex agrees. “It’s just down the hall that way, I’ll show you. Does anyone need anything to sleep in? I’ve got some spare pajamas.”

There’s a chorus of yes’s all around, so Alex heads down the hall toward his bedroom to grab some clothes with Michael not far behind him. 

“Looks, uh—nice in here,” Michael comments awkwardly as they step inside the bedroom, and Alex can’t help but laugh.

“You don’t have to lie,” he says as he starts digging through the dresser for some old t-shirts and sweatpants, glad for once that he never got around to cutting down the right pant leg on them. “Besides the new sheets, this is all Jim Valenti’s old stuff.” 

“The clothes too?” Michael grimaces.

“Oh, no, these are mine,” he says as he hands Michael a bundle of clothes. “Bathroom’s through that door there if you want to shower. There should be an extra toothbrush and towels under the sink.”

Michael nods, and then scoffs when he sees the Air Force logo on the t-shirt Alex hands him. Alex rolls his eyes at him as he heads back out into the living room to distribute clothes to the rest of his guests. 

It takes some time getting everyone settled—the sheets on the other beds need to be changed and Liz and Rosa have some questions about the giant hole in the wall in the basement—but soon enough, Alex heads back to the master bedroom. When he gets there, he sees Michael standing by the far side of the bed, water weighing down his curls and a pair of Alex’s sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He isn’t wearing a shirt either, the Air Force tee Alex gave him sitting on the comforter on Alex’s side of the bed.

Alex isn’t sure if this is an act of protest against the United States Armed Forces or if Michael is simply trying to drive him insane, but either way, Alex scoops up the t-shirt on his way to the ensuite bathroom along with the emergency crutches he keeps here and another pair of sweats for himself. 

He goes through his nightly routine without issue, grateful that he’d gotten around to buying a shower chair for the cabin so he can actually wash the last few days off his skin. 

He’s expecting Michael to be asleep when he gets back, but instead he finds him sitting crosslegged in bed with the lights still on, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. Alex’s heart aches at the sight.

“Hey,” he says softly as he makes his way over to the bed. 

Michael looks up at him, an inscrutable look on his face, and waits for him to speak. 

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay because there’s nothing about today that has been okay,” Alex tells him, “but I’m here if you want to talk.”

A small smile tugs at Michael’s lips. “Thanks,” he says.  

When he doesn’t say anything else, Alex gets into bed with him, resting his crutches in the narrow space between the bed and the nightstand. Michael gets the lights with his powers, plunging the room into darkness, and Alex lies down on his back while his eyes adjust, too aware of Michael shifting in bed beside him to really let himself relax enough to sleep. 

It’s a few moments later when Michael lets out a huff that sounds a little like a laugh.

“What?” Alex asks, turning to look at him. He can just see the curve of Michael’s nose in the moonlight bleeding through the curtains.

“Nothing, I just—“ Michael starts before he sighs again, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It’s a little ridiculous that this time last year we were dealing with your homicidal father and now we’re dealing with mine. The more things change the more they stay the same, I guess.”

Michael says it like it’s funny, but Alex feels a twinge in his chest at the thought of Michael going through what he went through last year. Feeling unsafe around your parent is a special kind of pain, one Alex knows intimately, and it’s the last thing he would have ever wanted for Michael. He’s been through enough.

 On impulse, Alex reaches across the bed for Michael’s hand. It takes some searching, but eventually he finds it resting on top of the comforter between them. He half expects Michael to pull away from him, but he threads their fingers together instead. Michael’s palm is warm against his own, his grip secure, and Alex feels his eyes begin to burn as something inside his chest settles at the touch. 

He swallows down the emotion in his throat as he tells him, “We’re gonna figure this out.” 

“You don’t know that,” Michael says, scarcely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I do,” Alex insists. “Jones may have crazy alien powers we can’t comprehend, but we have the Lockhart Machine. If it was your mother who built it, it could hold the key to taking him down.”

At the mention of his mother, Michael goes quiet again, and Alex watches his chest rise and fall with the deep breath he takes. 

“You really think she built it?” Michael asks at last, hesitation in his tone. 

Alex gets it—this machine, if it works like the radios the Valentis had, could have alien glass with his mother’s voice inside. It makes sense that Michael doesn’t want to get his hopes up and invite the crushing disappointment he’ll feel if it doesn’t.

Alex squeezes his hand reassuringly as he answers, “I think if there’s anyone who can find out for sure, it’s you.”

Michael is silent for another long moment, so long that Alex thinks he’s done with the conversation, before he finally asks, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

“What do you mean?” Alex asks, taken aback by the question.

Michael shifts onto his side to look at him directly. “Yesterday you didn’t want me anywhere near what you were doing and now you’re holding my hand and telling me it’s all gonna be okay if we work together,” Michael says, lifting their joined hands off the bed for emphasis. “What’s changed?”

Alex’s throat clicks as he swallows, something like shame weighing down the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make Michael feel like he didn’t want him around or that he wasn’t useful.

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologizes. “I was just scared.”

“Of what?” Michael presses.

“Of what Deep Sky would do if they found out about you,” he answers. “I knew if you kept investigating the bats, you would find Deep Sky sooner or later and I was terrified that for all their talk about changing narratives and building bridges between humans and aliens that they wouldn’t be any different than my father if they actually met one.” 

“Well, you could have told me that,” Michael says after a moment, his voice softer than the accusatory tone Alex is anticipating. “I would have understood.”

“But would you have let it go if you knew you were onto something?” Alex asks. 

“Not a chance in hell,” Michael admits, something like a smile playing at his lips. 

Alex sighs heavily, expecting the answer but no less happy at being proven right. 

“But being cagey and lying to me about what you knew didn’t make me want to let it go either,” Michael continues. 

“I know,” Alex says. “I just thought—If I didn’t try to protect you and just let you walk into something like that and you got hurt, I… I would never forgive myself.” 

Alex feels Michael’s thumb caress the back of his hand and closes his eyes at the sensation, letting it wash over him and remind him that Michael is here, that he’s safe—that he hasn’t failed him yet.

“Well, it was for nothing anyway,” Alex sighs as his eyes drift open once more. “Turns out you’re the whole reason they wanted to hire me in the first place, so—“

“Wait, what?” Michael asks, raising his head off his pillow to look at him better, and Alex curses his own sleep deprivation for letting him admit that so easily. “I thought they scouted you because of your dad.”

He swallows audibly before he answers, “That’s part of it too.” 

“But not all of it,” Michael says, not a question but a confirmation. “What, did they think they could get an alien on their side if they played the long game with you?” 

“Probably, yeah,” Alex says, hoping that’ll satisfy him.

Michael must sense that Alex is holding something back, though, because he releases his hand and sits up on the bed next to him. “Alex, what aren’t you saying?” 

Alex sighs and pushes himself up against the headboard so he and Michael are on the same level. He pulls his left leg in toward his chest protectively while Michael looks at him, his eyes intense and expectant.

Alex finds the words eventually. “Ramos wanted me to join Deep Sky because he thinks I view life differently than other people.”

“Because you already know aliens exist?” Michael guesses, his head quirked to the side.

God, is he really gonna make me say it? Alex thinks, his stomach dropping at the thought.

But then he takes in Michael’s earnest confusion, how far away the fact that Alex still loves him must be from his mind that he still doesn’t get it, and realizes they can’t keep doing this to each other—talking in riddles and euphemisms because it’s easier than being honest. That’s not who Alex wants to be anymore, and it’s certainly not what Michael deserves.

“Alex?” Michael prompts him, his voice dipping with concern, and Alex thinks, Fuck it. 

He’s already made a few major confessions tonight—what’s one more?

“Because I’m in love with one,” Alex admits at last, his heart thundering behind his ribs as he braces for Michael’s reply.

There’s a beat where Michael does nothing but stare at him blankly, the words taking a moment to register in his ears, before he asks, eyes almost comically wide, “You’re in love with me?” 

Alex laughs humorlessly, his eyes beginning to burn again as he answers, “Of course I am.”

“But I thought—you and Nazi guy—?“ Michael starts.

“Are over,” Alex finishes for him. “Forrest was nice and fun to hang out with, but he’s not you. He’ll never be you.”

A second and a year pass in the excruciating moment Michael takes to process that statement. It makes him feel raw and impossibly exposed, like Michael is holding his beating heart in his hands and Alex is begging him not to break it, but the next thing Alex knows Michael is pushing into his space and capturing his lips in a harsh and desperate kiss. 

Alex’s heart nearly bursts with relief, his leg dropping back down to the mattress. He reaches up to cup both of Michael’s cheeks to keep him close, his days-old stubble a pleasant scratch against his palms. 

Michael breathes a contented sigh against his mouth as he tilts his head for a better angle and tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out against Alex’s bottom lip. Alex opens for him without a moment’s hesitation and as soon as Michael licks into his mouth, Michael’s tongue sliding across his own, Alex feels like he’s been set on fire, the desire he’s been suppressing for over a year now flaring hot and inexorable inside of him. 

Alex wants with an intensity that almost scares him, his cock stirring against his thigh already and Michael’s barely even touched him. The feeling amplifies when Michael throws his leg over Alex’s hips and settles heavily over his lap, the solid weight and warmth of him pulling a moan from Alex’s throat.

Michael swallows the sound eagerly as he snakes his arms behind his neck, his hips shifting restlessly over Alex’s lap as he kisses him. Alex drops his hands from Michael’s face to wrap around his waist instead, pulling him closer until they’re nearly chest to chest. 

One of them has to break the kiss eventually, and as Alex gasps for air with his head tipped back against the headboard, he can see Michael looking down at him with adoration in his eyes. He takes Alex’s face in his hands and laughs, a soft, wet sound, before he kisses him soundly once more. 

“I love you so much,” he murmurs against his lips, and Alex’s grip tightens as he feels those words brush against his skin and settle in his heart.

Alex leans that little bit forward to kiss him again, slow and languid this time as the heat continues to simmer between them. Michael peels Alex’s shirt over his head and begins to rock gently against him, his ass rubbing back and forth over Alex’s growing erection with every movement of his hips. 

He can tell that Michael’s getting hard too, can feel the heat of his cock through his borrowed sweatpants. Alex removes his hand from Michael’s waist and slides it lower until he feels Michael’s happy trail peeking out above his waistband. 

He strokes his thumb over the hair there, teasing the skin at the edge of the fabric without ever dipping beneath it. Michael squirms against him with a soft, plaintive whimper when he does that, so Alex gives him what he wants, lets his hand slip lower so he can rub his palm over the hard line of Michael’s cock, relishing the way Michael moans softly into his mouth as his hips twitching closer on instinct. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” Alex pulls away to ask, his thumb rubbing a slow circle around the head of Michael’s dick through the soft fabric. 

“Are you saying you want to stop?” Michael asks him, tipping forward until their foreheads meet.

“No,” he answers.

“Then yeah,” Michael breathes, reaching down between them to cover Alex’s hand with his own. “I think we’re doing this.”

“In that case,” Alex says, “I want you in my mouth.”

“God, yeah,” Michael whispers, his cock jumping beneath Alex’s hand at the thought.

Alex gives him a hard kiss before he pulls back to say, “On your back.”

Michael climbs off of Alex’s lap without another word. He rolls over onto his back next to him, his thighs falling open to give Alex room to work with. 

Alex slips between them easily and moves in to kiss him again, once on the lips before he begins pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his chin. He lingers at his neck, sucking a bruise into the spot underneath his jaw that he knows drives Michael fucking crazy. 

Michael rewards him with a choked-off moan, his legs spreading wider around his hips. Alex wishes he had the time—and supplies—to ruin him properly, work him open with his tongue and fingers until he’s a keening, whimpering mess before he fucks him like he deserves. For now, though, his mouth will have to do.

Alex can feel Michael’s pulse jackrabbit against his lips as he continues down the column of his throat, Michael’s hands burying themselves in his hair. He dips his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone before he slips further down his chest, cupping Michael’s pecs in his hands and squeezing just enough to get a reaction from him before his mouth latches on to one of his nipples.

He scrapes his teeth against the bud before soothing the hurt with his tongue and Michael’s breath catches in his throat again. He’s always been so sensitive, so responsive to Alex’s touch, and Alex can’t get enough of it.

When he’s teased both of his nipples to hard buds, Alex starts to move lower still, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down the length of his belly until he stops right above the waistband of his pajamas.

“Alex,” Michael moans as Alex sucks another bruise into his skin, his fingers tightening their grip on his hair. “Please.”

Alex gives one final kiss to the sharp angle of Michael’s hip bone before he sits up to pull his pants off. He drops them off the side of the bed carelessly before he settles between Michael’s legs once more, running his palms along the soft skin of his inner thighs and enjoying the way the muscle jumps beneath his fingertips.

Michael’s cock leaks against his belly, flushed and wet at the tip. Alex wastes no more time getting his mouth on him, lapping at the pool of precome shining against his skin before he takes the slick, swollen head into his mouth. He revels in the feel of it forcing his mouth wide open and moans softly at the bitter taste he catches on his tongue. 

Alex looks up at Michael through his lashes as he starts to suck him, sinking down onto his cock a little lower with every pass of his lips. Michael’s got his bottom lip caught painfully between his teeth, his eyes trained hungrily on the way his cock is slipping in and out of Alex’s mouth. 

The soft, needy whimpers Michael makes as Alex swallows around him are music to his ears, stoking the fire inside of him until the pressure in his own cock becomes unbearable. Alex grinds his hips down against the mattress for relief, but it only makes him more desperate to come. He slides one of his hands straight into his own pants and groans around Michael’s cock as he starts to fuck his fist.

It’s not much longer that Michael’s hips start to twitch against the mattress and his fingers tighten their grip on Alex’s hair. He barely gets out a warning, “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” before he’s pulsing hot and wet across Alex’s tongue. Alex swallows it greedily, moaning softly as he works Michael through the rest of his orgasm and keeps chasing his own with eager, shallow thrusts. 

When Michael’s had enough, Alex pulls off of his cock and buries his face against his hip as he comes quietly over his own fist, making a mess of the inside of his underwear. He’ll probably be embarrassed about that later, but for now he’s content to come down to the feeling of Michael gently petting his hair.

“Get up here,” Michael says when he’s recovered the ability to speak, tugging lightly on the ends of Alex’s hair to get his attention. 

Alex groans as he lifts his head off Michael’s hip and maneuvers himself until he’s lying next to him again, his stump crossed over Michael’s thigh. 

“Did you—?” Michael cuts off, eyes caught on the sticky mess on Alex’s hand now that he’s pulled it free from his pants.

“Yeah,” Alex admits, a little sheepishly. 

Michael stares at his hand for a long second before he grabs his wrist and pulls his hand closer to his face. He looks Alex in the eye as he sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, grunting softly as he licks them clean.

“Fuck,” Alex whispers, his cock twitching in vain against his thigh at the sight and feel of Michael’s tongue sliding between his fingers.

“You missed sucking my cock that bad, huh?” Michael asks when he lets them fall from his mouth, voice low and rough as gravel as he pushes into Alex’s space, so close he can smell himself on Michael’s breath. 

Alex lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” he answers.

Michael leans in to kiss him, quick and dirty and possessive, before he pulls back and says, “Guess I’m just gonna have to wait until the morning to return the favor then.”

“I guess so,” Alex says, hooking his clean hand around the back of Michael’s neck to bring him in for another one.

Michael kisses him back eagerly for a long moment before he pulls away. “Be right back,” he says, and climbs out of bed.

While he’s in the bathroom, Alex shimmies his dirty sweatpants and underwear off his legs and onto the floor. It’s only another minute before Michael’s back, a damp washcloth gripped between his fingers. 

It’s warm against Alex’s skin as Michael uses it to clean him up, and when they’re done they settle down for bed, Alex’s head resting on Michael’s chest and his arm thrown across his waist.

And as Alex finally closes his eyes for the night, his thoughts naturally drift to all the problems they’ll be facing tomorrow morning:

Saving Kyle. 

Freeing Maria. 

Stopping Jones. 

Unlocking the secrets of a mysterious 50 year old alien device and hopefully not going insane while trying.

But as the steady sound of Michael’s heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the loudest thought in his head is that Michael loves him. 

Whatever happens come morning, they’ll deal with it together.

[wyverian-lady525]

kyle getting jealous watching reader greet people the mahana way ✌

The Green Monster

There is one monster that cannot be killed no matter how hard you try. Kyle figures this out one night.

Kyle really doesn’t understand you.

You see, he was invited back to Mahana as a sort of “apologies festival”. All the hunters plus his dad were encouraged to attend. It was the hunters’ way of saying sorry about Ratha, and riders’ way of saying sorry about the whole ‘Guardian Ratha’ incident. The Guild encouraged it, and everyone actually seemed to be getting along well. You were actually introducing the hunters to Ratha who, while hesitantly, seemed to be enjoying all the attention. Kyle decided to watch on the sidelines, not really being one for huge gatherings. His eyes would go to hunters and riders drinking together, only to go back to you. You would greet every new visitor in that bizarre ‘Mahana way’ of grabbing the face. It would cause him to involuntarily scowl.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Ah!” Kyle let out a girlish shriek at Tsukino’s voice. She was casually standing next to him, munching on a donut she undoubtedly got from Navirou. The young hunter got a grasp on his composure before narrowing his eyes and mumbling, “What are you talking about?”

The felyne grinned and gestured to the large scowl on his face. Then she followed his gaze to see you giving another hunter (one not far from Kyle’s age) the same traditional greeting. A large smile on your face, light in your e/c eyes, the flowers in your hair contrasting its h/c color. The other young hunter blushed when you were done. Then another rider showed up. He looked familiar; in azure rathalos gear with long red hair tied in a braid. You greeted him the same way. He laughed and returned the greeting the same way. Kyle frowned and felt a twinge in his stomach.

“Your jealous.” Tsukino stated with a shake of her head. Kyle gapped at her.

“Of course not!” He said quickly with red rushing to his face at the accusation.

“All the intel I needed has been gathered.” She said with a smile, finishing off her donut.

“And you know I’m hardly wrong.” She stated with a wink. This time Kyle’s scowl was directed at his palico, and he marched off without a word. Her mocking laugh followed him through the crowd. 

He wasn’t jealous. If anything, he was irritated. Yes, that was it. He was irritated that they could be so forgiving and kind and welcoming. 

Kyle stopped in his tracks.

And how he wished it were him they were greeting in that stupid way.

He growled under his breath when he realized Tsukino might be right. Man, he wished emotions were something you could deal with by tracking and killing them. Kyle realized he stopped near the entrance of Mahana village and his eyes caught sight of some familiar faces. Two wyverians to be exact.

You ran over to greet Ena in the same fashion you greeted everyone else. Then you both exchanged words that he couldn’t quite make out. Your attention then turned towards the other wyverian, Alwin, if he remembered right. You grabbed his face and gave him the same greeting.

No.

Kyle was not okay with this anymore.

He could handle fellow hunters and riders, but he draws the line at the handsome ageless wyverian.

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?” Kyle said after he marched over there. You let go of Alwin’s face (which was red from embarrassment) and nodded. Ena worked on calming her friend down, who quietly stated how he would like to leave. You followed the hunter to an isolated pier.

“Something wrong Kyle?” You asked while crossing your arms with a light smile.

“Why do you do it?” He asked while turning to face you. You tilted your head and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Greet everyone like that. Don’t you think it’s kind of in their personal space? Some people might not like it” Kyle said. You shook your head and explained how it was just how your people said ‘hello’. 

“Does it bother you when I do it?” You asked with a slight smirk.

“Yes-No! I mean-” Kyle stuttered, but immediately shut up when you sandwiched his face with your hands. He was certain you could feel the heat in his cheeks. You smiled with half-lidded eyes and coyly asked, “Are you jealous, Kyle?”

He was at a loss for words, but that gave you the answer you needed. You added another step to your greeting and brought his face towards yours.

That’s how you two ended up kissing in the moonlight on an isolated pier.

“Quest complete.” Tsukino said with a proud look as she watched from a distance.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte