#ace u. ticks

[o0mangomadness0o]

Been forgetting to post these guys lmao

These are my final Moonflowercare kids! Connie and Clay are Vio and Boone's kids, Ace is Vio and Chris's kid, and Horace is Vio and Jay's kid =)

#art #digital art #moonflowercare #cometcare fan au #connie toll lang #clay voy lance #ace u. ticks #horace shoo fortune #oc kids

[jzixuans]

wamnt to draw today 🧐

#our options are a xuanjimian comic; jin zixuan being cringe and fail; ace attorney???????; or something else idk #if u guys have suggestions i am open to consideration but no guarantees #tick talk

[apothecarywormcrud]

celtic grey sea salt :)

celtic grey sea salt - what's an unpopular headcanon you have about your f/o?

he is GAY he is TRANS he is AUTISTIC and he is ASEXUAL

#idk that the gay part was unpopular before but it sure feels like it now #considering that every woman on tumblr now wants to jump this mans bones #and the only explicitly gay (and trans) hcs ive seen have been coming from other gay trans people #thats another thing that ticks me off actually that like. yes trans hcs have become more acceptable and widespread #but i still occasionally see people talking about them in the context of an AU #like it's this thing you can just try on and off as a means of character exploration #instead of smth that people fundamentally Are #honestly i dont even consider trans viktor a hc bc u cant hand me this man entrenched in a transhumanist narrative and tell me hes cis #i try not to get annoyed abt ppl having wrong blorbo opinions on the internet but i will let myself have this one :) as a treat :) #if im being honest this whole gamut of hcs is just me going oh hes just like me fr fr but personally i think thats very cool and sexy of me #also i think ppl avoid the ace hc bc. as previously noted. everybody wants to fuck this man so bad #i am not excluded from Everybody but like. im also ace. #idk its just like. the way that i am. directly influences the way that i think nd write abt viktor as a character #which is true for everybody i suppose but. u know what i fucking mean #these tags are a mess lol #i got attached to the mentally ill robot man and now im gonna make it everybody elses problem #yellin #ass memes

[cowgirlcherrie]

STARTEAM ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ volleyball! loser! ellie drabble

a/n: there is no plot for this it’s just a thought I haven’t been able to shake since seeing the amazing volleyball! ellie art by @caspervi ♡♡

volleyball! ellie art. support their work here!

update: also just realized @elliespeach has a wonderful volleyball! ellie fic and basically kickstarted the idea so support their work here too !!

content: 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, lowk saliva play if u squint bro, fem! water girl! reader

— song(s): STARTEAM by lastclass & byelilfly

Ellie was in timeout. 

Well not literally, but being benched felt like she was. Suddenly she was 5 again and her teacher was moving her card to red, for her indecent behavior. Ellie wanted to whine, she wanted to fight back – bitch and moan. She had been putting in the work! Up in the gymnasium at the crevice of the glowing somber night to practice her bumping and setting; perfecting her spikes and it seemed as if she would never get to reach tranquility. She couldn’t be an ace, she couldn’t beat her opponents. 

She was drenched in sweat head-to-toe —  the fabric of her jersey sticking to her chest like glue. Beads of fresh sweat dripped down her forehead as she licked her dehydrated lips. She needed to breathe. But Ellie didn’t know breath control. She didn’t know stopping either, her routine was damaged, she was jaded and her brain was fuzzy the plays didn’t even make sense to her. Her brain was insanely flawed.  Nothing but incoherent doodles as her coach yelled in her face to take 5. 

All she knew was routine:

Wake up at 5 am. Go for a run at 7 am. Nutritious breakfast at 9 am. Practice 10-4 pm. A quick nap and muscle soak before a game.

All her hard work burned into ashes; eventually to dust and crumbs as it became nothing but a false sense of dedication. Sleepless nights and aching muscles just to be benched. Ellie was incandescent. Her eyebrows furrowed, cheeks a pulsing red – like clown makeup from the intensity. Her blood cells flowed healthily and her heartbeat was in the root of her ears like the pulsing of the music that kept her going.  While some may say a body is a temple; her’s was a ticking time bomb ready to go off in any second. 

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes open, the sound of sneakers against the freshly polished floors made her eardrums bleed, similar to scraping a metal ruler against a school board. 

Dropping her head as she looked down at her legs. Her thighs were drenched in sweat the shin guards cutting off any circulation, making her thighs look wonderfully plump and 10x more muscular. Ellie was becoming hyper-aware until a sudden tap on her back and a sweet toothache-inducing smell filled her nostrils. 

It was you.

The water girl, her hero. Just the right person to fix her cravings. A thin white ridged paper cup in your hand with water filled to the brim as you held it out in front of you with a gentle smile. Ellie always thought your sweetness was ravishing. She thought her teammates were undeserving of such pleasure and authenticity from you. The other girls would dim your light – and by dimming it she meant flirting with you. Calling you sweetheart and asking to take you out to dinner which was followed by your rich voice telling them, “It’s unprofessional!” but she was too bashful to admit it; she wanted to do it too. 

The word baby could not escape her lips without being immediately flustered by it, Ellie was too smitten and starstruck by you. Quiet and lightly spoken, hell she was called ‘Bitchless 7 Williams’ for a reason. Stuttering over her words, hands shakier than ever, her affection becoming aggression she wanted nothing more than to drag herself out. She wishes she could be more flirty, more outspoken; then just maybe she would have been lucky to snag you, her water girl. 

You knew she could get down, she palpably could get rough with the right motivation. It was the way her anger transcended on the court, you were sure it would manifest in other places too. But part of you loved it, it turned you on, when you were alone at night, entangled in your duvet as you wondered what she would look like calling out your name. She was a fucking loser, a pathetic whiney player that still took the fall.

Initially, you thought you were sweeter; more gentle but Ellie was more bashful than you. She wasn’t like her teammates. Ellie didn’t make eye contact with you at all or call you names. She did, however, stare at your boobs for too long through your tightly fitting workout jacket that hugged every crevice of your body just right. Giving your boobs an extra push. It was perverted, but you caught her every time. Coincidentally that’s what got you hooked on her. You weren’t going to stop her. 

Like a hound dog you could smell what she wanted, you never failed to see the drool finally dripping from her tongue that she masked by bringing up her cup with great speed as the stretchy saliva dripped down the edge of her fingers and her cup. You did notice how she would leave a sticky residue; her clear fluids all over the cup before handing it back to you. Running off right before you can get a word in.

“Hope you’re thirsty It took me hooours to pour this” you teased, holding out the cup towards Ellie with a smile. That soft grin of yours that easily made anyone swoon on you. Ellie caught herself doing it again. In a room with so many people, her team, friends, and family, she sent a quick look at your boobs before looking back at the sparkles in your eyes. Like diamonds and pearls; vibrant and warm. Lewd thoughts raced in her brain like gnats. 

She was giving you teeth, as she took her shirt up; again, to wipe her forehead clear of the everflowing liquid. 

“Oh yeah,” Ellie taunted back, with a smirk on her face. She wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from, so she reached out to take the cup from you. Bringing the cup up to her lips as she tilted her head back, taking large gulps of the water not breaking eye contact with you. You saw the string of saliva again as she dropped the cup from her lips, taking a soft breath. 

“More . . .” Her voice was breathy as if she ran a mile. 

“More what?”

“More water…please?” Ellie pleaded, she spoke fast and in a whisper shaking the empty cup as she handed it back to you.

“Sure thing Els,” You confirmed taking the cup from her hands feeling the sudden dampness of her drool around the cup. Almost damaging to the deteriorating paper. “You got something here”

You pointed to your own chin with your pointer finger, as Ellie quickly rushed a hand up to wipe off any excess liquid with the back of her hands, fingertips covered in bandaids. 

“Sorry,” it was a quiet whisper. 

You turned to the back this time giving Ellie a full view of the way you looked in the short shorts — that were almost as tight as your top. Ellie had to look away. Almost as if she were being under surveillance, she had to behave; control her wandering eyes that betrayed her more than often.

Just as you were about to give Ellie the cup again, a shout from her coach filled the spacey gymnasium. With that simple shout, Ellie became a machine. Lifting her legs up forgetting about her water request and rushed back onto the court. If she was so lucky to have the chance, she’ll fetch the water from you later. Hopefully with a reward on her back. 

Williams! Back on the court! Let’s try it again #7 Hustle! 

#💭ᜊ cher thinks #cherry writes 🤍 #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams #modern! ellie williams #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x reader #volleyball! ellie #modern au #ellie x you #ellie x reader #college! ​ellie williams #ellie williams smut #loser! ellie #loser!ellie #sub!ellie

[atl4ntxc]

“ 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬 𝐭ú . ”

— how they confess.

RIDDLE ROSEHEART will make sure everything goes perfectly. this is his big day! he wants to impress you, he wants to see your awed face. he is willing to collar anybody that dares to go against his plan. nothing will ruin it, this is his moment. first, he would invite you to an unbirthday tea party, just you and him. then, he would spend the whole evening with you before gulping down his anxiety and confessing. “i’m in love with you, prefect.”

baking will always be TREY CLOVER’S speciality. he goes along the flow, waiting to get signals from you. how does he confess? he confessed by leaving a box of homemade truffles on your bed, a sticky note attached to it. “i like you, [name]. be mine? yes or no?” you couldn’t help but swoon, a delicate hue decorating your face. you took out your phone and ticked ‘yes’ on the paper, sending a picture of the truffles and note you received with the answer.

CATER DIAMOND confesses through text. although he feels like it’s one-sided, he couldn’t help but notice the mixed signals you give him. do you like him or not?! so one day, he texted you out of the blue “i like you! no— i love you!”. you just got out of the shower and was drying your hair before receiving a notification from cater. a soft smile appeared on your lips as you texted back at him, “i love you too. where do you want to meet up? <3 :)”

it’ll take a millenia to get ACE TRAPPOLA to admit his feelings for you. nah, he likes you, but not like that. right? he is so stubborn. literally everybody can see the way he flutters his eyelashes at you 🙄 though one fateful night, the both of you were stargazing— you rambling your thoughts away. “i like to travel” “i like you.” silence overlapped the atmosphere before you looked at him, confused. “you like me?” he realized he couldn’t sugarcoat it anymore. “you’re an idiot— of course i like you. you’re so smart yet so dumb AND dense!”

DEUCE SPADE is so conflicted. should he confess or should he not? what happens if he ruins your friendship? agh, it’s so frustrating! he just wants to hold your face and kiss every part of your features! why must you be so complicated? he asks his mother, now this is where it led him. deuce at your doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers while wearing a suit with his hair slicked back and a nervous smile. “deuce?” you stared at him then at the flowers. “[name], i like— no, i love you a lot! will you go out with me?” he trembles.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR is too lazy to set up a whole ass plan for this. yeah, he likes you, he admits— but he’s just gonna go with the flow, relaxing while letting fate do this for him. it’s obvious to everyone that this lion has the feels for you— i mean... he only uses you (and only you) as a pillow, cuddle buddy AND he lets you scratch his ears?? fuck yeah he likes u. if you haven’t taken the hint, you’re either really dense or really dumb. “leona, do you like me?” he snuggles into your shoulder and growls. “you just noticed?”

RUGGIE BUCCHI honestly doesn’t know what to do. i mean... he does like you, but he doesn’t know how to approach you. screw that, he’s 100% sure he’s in love with you. he isn’t an expert in the romance field, what do you expect? so, there’s only one way he confesses. asking you out on a date when he thought he was gonna die during leona’s overblot :D isn’t that so romantic? “hey prefect, if we survive this, wanna go out?” “ruggie what the fuck”

what the hell is that. JACK HOWL is the dense one here, not you. yes, his heart beats at an abnormal pace whenever you’re near, yes he misses you whenever you are not near him but nah, he thinks that it’s normal for friends to feel that way. this fr made epel hit his head and tell him that no, it is not friendship. that’s legit a crush!! now that’s when he realized he likes you. yeah once he realizes he just goes up to you and says “prefect, i like you”

AZUL ASHENGROTTO plans literally everything out. unlike riddle, his doesn’t go as plan. everything went wrong and he is about to lose his absolute shit. why must he be so unlucky? jade is putting his hand on floyd’s mouth so he doesn’t burst out laughing. just as he was about to ask you to meet him, the first years dragged you away to create another batch of chaos that are legit nightmare fuel. now at the end of the day, he’s sick of everything and with a fake smile, drags you away from these goons you call friends. “this took me all day. i will not let them steal you away this time. i like you, prefect.”

the moment JADE LEECH realizes his feelings for you, his eyes would never leave your form. it becomes a whole ass mission to find out whether you like him back or not, and it wasn’t difficult for him to decipher your feelings. oh dear, what’s this? you’re getting flustered over simple things that he does. this truly amuses him, and he enjoys every second of it. he holds your hand and gave a gentle kiss on top of it, a teasing grin on his face. “prefect, would you be mine?” JADE>>>>

FLOYD LEECH is a pain in the ass. once he realizes that he’s in love with you, he’s glued to your hip 24/7, it’s not even funny. he always say “i love you”. those words are always leaving his mouth. you might take it as a joke, but he is not joking at all. now, on a particular day, he wasn’t feeling it. so you know what he did? “floyd?” he kabedon’d you. “listen, shrimpy! i’m sick of you thinking that everything’s a joke! do you want me to squeeze you as hard as i can so that you know that i’m in love with you?”

KALIM AL-ASIM is trying his best, okay? jamil was the one who made him realize that he was in fact, in love with you. when found out, he was dying to tell you his feelings. so, the only solution to that is *drum roll* confessing his undying feelings for you! now how did he confess? inviting you on a carpet ride (pretty cliché, but i agree w/ the fandom) and showing you the true beauty of this world. that moment he realized, nothing could compare to your beauty. “i love you, prefect! i’m falling harder each day!”

love who? yeah, JAMIL VIPER is not confident enough to confess. he believes that you deserve someone better, someone like kalim, not a servant like him. although you like him a lot and he is aware, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. i strongly believe that jamil would try to make you hate him so that you wouldn’t get hurt by him. during his overblot, he banished everyone from scarabia except for you— who he kept by his side. that is when you found out what he actually felt for you. “don’t you dare leave me. i have fallen for you, and you will stay by my side forever— i’ll make sure of it.”

now, VIL SCHOENHEIT couldn’t believe that he would fall for a rotten potato like you! what spell did you cast on him, oh dear prefect? you’ve got him wrapped around your finger like a thread. he is definitely one of the romantic types, preferring to confess face to face. “potato, i can’t help but notice how wonderful you look today.” thanks for calling me a potato, vil. it’s highly unlikely for him to confess, so you’re gonna confess first. then, he would ask you to meet him at pomefiore, he told you to ‘dress nicely’. “finally arrived, prefect? i’ve made reservations, just you and me.”

ROOK HUNT is folding for you. he would appear during the most random times, confessing his undying love for you through poems. “oh, mon trésor—” “rook we are literally about to die” honestly, everyone questions your sanity. he follows you everywhere, sometimes it gets on your nerves. so one day, while sitting under a tree, an arrow was shot right beside you. “I love you, mon trésor. will you do the honours of being mine?” you could only stare at the paper in your hands. what’s your answer, prefect?

believe it or not, EPEL FELMIER would rather dive off a cliff than admit that he wrote love letters for you. love letters? haha what’s that? he’s so in love with you, i’m not joking. he definitely imagine scenarios of him protecting you (prove me wrong LOL). although he is very nervous to confess to you, he needs to man up for the love of his life! and when he gets in front of you to confess, he wastes no time to tell you what he feels... in great detail. this is honestly a great view, seeing epel all flustered and ready to be teased by you and his friends.

IDIA would be caught dead before confessing to you. nothing, absolutely nothing will make him confess to you. so, you will be the one to confess to this guy. he is too nervous for his own good, and would rather die than go through rejection by his long-time crush, aka you. although ortho knows that you like his brother back, idia can't help but feel his anxiety rise each time he feels like confessing. so he goes nope. i'm good 👍. so the big question is, will YOU confess?

it is clear to everyone that MALLEUS DRACONIA has fallen head over heels for you. just the mere mention of your name has got him smiling and feeling all giddy. the confession happened during a night walk with him, and as usual, he can't help but admire you. “child of man, i have something to say.” you turned to look at him and noticed how gentle he looked at you. "what is it, tsunotarou?" he gently cupped your cheek and confessed his undying love for you. his eyes would glimmer with delight once he finishes.

LILIA VANROUGE prefers traditional ways of confessing. he is an old man after all. he tends to scare you a lot just to show that he cares for you. he literally confessed like this: lilia was upside down when he spooked you. with a grin, he handed you a letter that smelled just like him. it makes you think, did he spray his perfume on this letter or something? the envelope itself was very pleasing to look at, a beautiful colour of beige and rose gold wax seal. open it, prefect! what was contained either made your heart flutter or not.

SILVER prefers simple ways to confess. of course, he asks lilia for help. while he had his head in your lap, you placed a flower crown on his head, making him stir awake. “did i wake you, silver? i’m sorry.” his lips curled into a gentle smile, pleasured to wake up by seeing your face. you could only look at his delicate features that were staring up at you. silver closed his eyes to continue his slumber, but before that, he whispered a delicate “i love you.”

SEBEK ZIGVOLT simply yells out what he feels for you. it was quite an odd scenario, him holding on to your shoulders while his face flushed a red hue. the tips of his ears turned pink as he stared at your face, eyebrows furrowed. “sebek??” he gulped his fears away and took a deep breath before confessing his feelings for you. “human! how dare you make me feel such things? you make my heart flutter at each mention of your name, so tell me— what have you done?”

©atl4ntxc 2023 — any type of plagiarization, copying, stealing, reposting or translating without my permission is forbidden.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #cater x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie x reader #jack howl x reader #azul x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook x reader #epel x reader #idia x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst silver x reader #sebek x reader #riddle x reader #twst wonderland #twst fanfic #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland leona #leona kingscholar

[hishighnesstheprincess]

My favorite parts of the Snapcube The Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog stream, in no particular order

The entire cast stopping to coo over how cute Sonic's blushing face

The entire cast stopping to talk about how pretty Rouge's new outfit is (same tbh)

(borat voice) "mah wife"

"he's embarking on the finalest frontier of all- the afterlife."

The Penders comic mentions

Making the player character British, but only in their inner monologue

Ryan's first line being "where's that damn hedgehog I want him dead"

"Can you teach me how to do a kick flip?" "You're gonna have to ask TORNY HAWK for that one."

The entire cast gets to choose a single letter of the main character's name. The character ends up being named "Prq7qe" pronounced Preston

"I'm retiring after 32 wonderful years... and getting arrested for killing Sonic."

"this is fucking glass onion"

Valhalla Zone Act 1

"Thank you all the artists who worked on this, this is phenomenal" genuinely made me emotional

Everybody losing their minds at all the Ace Attorney references

"Let's follow this (exceptionally long silence) T R A I N O F T H O U G H T"

Literally everything involving the soundboards holy shit I have got to get one of those

"Cause of death: committing to the bit"

"Ok but real talk tho that scene from the live action Grinch made me want to eat glass" "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT"

Penny going "SHUT UP TAILS" in the background to practice her ova Sonic voice

"I'm not used to playing with the arrow keys I'm a WASD lady" "you can use WASD for this" "SHUT UP"

The continual evidence that over half the cast is terminally online

"URETHRA!"

Ryan making Danganronpa references (I love him for this)

"I would NEVER walk down the straight path. The joke is that I like men!"

"A murderer is on the loose/ While doors keep getting locked/ Tick tock goes the clock/ But the party don't stop"

(Rouge voice) "this is like beating up a baby, which is fine by me!"

"I'm a gamer." "... are you fucking kidding me?!"

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #rouge the bat #snapcube #prin posts #sonic posting #snapcube streams are SO funny yall should watch more than the sonic fandubs ffs

[discokicks]

THE KIDS AIN'T FINE, FINE - ROY KENT.

PART THREE of ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: in 2012, roy’s summer olympic training camp is going (surprisingly) well. the same can’t be said for your new and current arrangement at richmond. and while you two think you’re doing a good job at keeping your bickering discreet, certain people are starting to notice that something’s up. and some are handling it better than others.

word count & rating: 11.8k (holy shit), R (typical roy kent fruity language)

chapter warnings: swearing, minor allusions to sexual assault and harassment, a sprinkling of sexual tension (we'll get there y'all), talk of alcohol and alcohol use, ploooot, lots of football/soccer/coaching talk, major angst, typical bickering, slight fluff.

author's note: i’m baaaaaaack and we're in it now, folks! we're covering A LOT of ground in this part. whole lotta relationship building and exposition. we're getting to the fun stuff soon, promise. and for the sake of my plot/pacing, we're pretending there was a week of time between last chapter and this one, despite them both taking place within the 3x02 timeframe. thank you for the love on the last chapter, i'm truly having so much fun writing this, so it's so exciting to see that people are enjoying it. ok, shutting up now, love u all tons, let's goooo! - mags

PRESENT DAY. (MID-AUGUST, 2023)

There are two days until Richmond’s first game of the season and you think you’ve slept approximately four and a half hours this entire week.

Despite the fact that your days weren’t too intense (pre-season practices were typically a little more involved and could stretch longer, and your Coaches' meetings never kept you past an unreasonable hour), your nights were rather rough. They seemed to be endless while also never offering quite enough time.

This was all self-inflicted, though. From the second you returned home from Nelson Road, you dove back into work, studying game film and your new players, attempting to figure out exactly what made this team tick. You thought about potential plays and formations in the shower, nearly slipping and cracking your head open each time you raced out to draw something up. You rehearsed things you wanted to say during practices, making sure each line was insightful and understandable, without overstepping any sort of boundaries.

Boundaries were key, here. You were hyper-aware of those now.

However, it wasn’t like you were saying the majority of these things. For the first time in almost a decade, you’d found yourself biting your tongue more often than not. You were friendly and encouraging like any good coach was, but you were agreeable. Quiet. Hesitant.

Those were issues and you knew that. That’s not what a coach was supposed to be, especially the coach of an AFC team. But that stupid fucking anxiety that you couldn’t shake had muzzled you. The fear made you weak. And while you hated it, you couldn’t rid yourself of it. That only made you feel more pathetic. 

And it wasn’t like the Richmond team hadn’t done everything in their power to make you feel welcome. The ‘primary school-level art’ Roy had spoken of on your first day had been a large ‘Welcome to Richmond’ banner held by the team in the locker room, each of the players greeting you with a wide smile on their faces. While, yes, it did look like it’d been put together by a couple of third-graders (with the exception of a wildly intricate sunflower in the corner done by Dani Rojas), the thought behind it nearly made you cry. 

All of the players had personally introduced themselves to you throughout the week, some keeping it short and sweet like Jaan Maas, others, such as Sam, approaching with lists of questions; not just about your professional life, but personal life, too.

They each were respectful and kind, listening to the few things you did work up the courage to say and seemed to take them to heart. They listened to you. They wanted to hear from you. They wanted to get to know you.

And you couldn’t fucking allow yourself to do it.

Your distant and rather closed-off behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed. While you thought you were keeping it cool and polite, certain players and people (AKA your entire coaching staff and boss) couldn’t help but see through what you’re doing. 

This becomes evident early one morning, approximately five days after you begin. You’re the first one at the Richmond facilities, having stayed up for so long that night that you figured you might as well just stay awake for training. You’re only the slightest bit delirious and are trying not to vibrate due to the three cups of coffee that are currently coursing through your system.

You’re about to take a sip of your fourth when you hear a knock on your office door. The sound makes you pause— nobody’s supposed to be here until eight, at least. 

The voice behind the knock reveals the identity immediately. “You’re here early, Coach.”

Unconsciously, your body goes rigid. You thought you’d be alone. You’ve only been here for a couple days, but nobody seemed to come in this early. Especially not Jamie Tartt.

What was he doing here? Why was he here so early? Was it just him? Or were there others with him? Anxiety floods through your veins at the idea of being alone in your office with this team’s star player. It creeps along your spine and into your mind and taunts you with ‘what ifs’, It’s stupid and it makes no sense and you hate yourself for it, but you can’t find a way to stop it. 

And it’s not even his fault. It has nothing to do with him. But you can’t seem to convince yourself of that.

Without turning around, you greet him. “C-Could say the same for you, Jamie.”

Jamie Tartt chuckles from your doorframe. “Having trouble sleepin’ lately,” he tells you, sounding slightly confused by your refusal to face him. “Thought I’d show up early.”

You force yourself to turn, crossing your arms over your chest. You ignore how clammy your palms are as your hands ball to fists. “Is that… typical for you?” you ask. “To show up at this time?”

“Not at all,” he replies with a shake of his head. The smile on his face is easy. Polite. Comfortable. “Just got a lot on me mind lately. Makes me sleep shitty.”

“Sorry to hear that.” You attempt the same politeness but your words come out clipped. You can’t tell if he notices. 

Jamie nods. “Oh, it’s whatever. I’ll get over it.”

The dead air you’re met with is almost painful. You know you should be better at this. You know you should be engaging in this type of small talk, trying to get to know your team. You’re their coach, for fuck’s sake. You know what you need to do.

But as you stare at Jamie, you can’t get anything to come out. You don’t want to say the wrong thing. You don’t want to overstep your boundaries or his. You don’t want to screw this up too. One wrong move and it could be over for you.

The hesitation clearly reads on your face and this time, you can tell Jamie notices. However, what you notice is the way he lingers at your door.

Finally, you muster up the courage to ask, “Is there something I can help you with?”

That seems to be what he was looking for. His shoulders sag as he nods, glancing behind him to see if there’s anyone around. “I was just…” He enters your office, plopping himself down into Roy’s desk chair with a lazy spin, and the action makes your throat tighten. “Is, uh… Is Zava really coming to Richmond?”

You don’t know what you were expecting from him, but it certainly wasn’t that. The question catches you off guard. “Oh,” you say. You shrug, arms uncrossing. “Uh, I mean… it’s being talked about. I’m still kind of new, but it seems like every team’s kinda trying to get him. I know West Ham was trying hard for sure, so… not sure if we’ll win him over.”

Jamie nods. “But it’s on the table?”

His tone doesn’t match the question. Everyone else— each player, coach, fan, everyone has the same type of excitement when talking about the prospect of Zava. And you get it. 

But Jamie doesn’t seem to be in the same boat. And immediately, you get that too.

The realization makes you part your lips, something like sympathy rising up inside you. Jamie’s the star. The Ace. He’s Richmond’s playmaker and he thinks he’s going to be sidelined because of it. And honestly, he may just be right.

“Yeah,” you reply. “It’s still on the table.” He nods once more, like he’s confirming a reality he didn’t want to face. In an attempt to reassure him, you awkwardly try, “But there’s still a lot of ‘what-ifs’ that have to happen before that does. The probability of it happening is like, super low.” Jamie looks at you. “So, I wouldn’t worry about it until it does.”

That makes Jamie shake his head. “I’m not worried about it,” he nearly scoffs. You can’t help the way you look at him, eyebrows raised and calling him out on his bullshit. “I’m not!”

“Good,” you say, backing off from this type of conversation before it can start. The idea of getting into any type of argument makes you tense. “You don’t have to be.”

That seems to satisfy him. Momentarily. Because then he asks, “But if he does…” As he trails off, he meets your expectant eyes. “Could we… Could you help me out?”

The question gives you pause. “In what way? Giving you updates on where we are with Zava?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I mean, like… training me. One on one? Or even just giving me more notes in practice?”

The second he says training, your entire body freezes. He wanted to do one-on-one training sessions with you? Just the two of you? Alone? The last time someone you’d coached had asked you that…

Jamie’s expression contorts in confusion as he sees the look on your face. “I just thought that, like, we played the same position? And y’know, I’ve seen your film and I know what you do and… I think you’d be able to help me.”

You try to answer him but the words don’t come out. Your throat’s dry, jaw tight. However, luckily, before Jamie has time to fully panic about his questions, you crush them. “Uh, I’m—” Your voice cracks. “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with that just yet.”

Your answer seems to surprise him, but you’re surprised by how quickly he backs off. He physically takes a step back, throwing his hands up. “Oh, yeah. Of course,” he says. “You just got here. Don’t really know us yet. Totally get it.”

You hadn’t expected that. The last time, you’d been fought. Begged. Coerced. You’re the only one who seems to get me, Coach. You just know how to teach me. C’mon.

But Jamie doesn’t do that. And you’re not sure what to do with that.

“I-I’m sorry,” you manage to get out. “Nothing against you, but I’m just—” You interrupt yourself with a new offer. “Maybe ask Roy?”

That Jamie actually scoffs at. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “He’s actually a pretty good trainer.”

“No, he’s uh…” Jamie swipes at his mouth as he laughs. “He’s not my biggest fan.”

His admission makes you laugh and relax for a moment. “Well, at least we’ve got that in common, Tartt.”

Jamie’s gaze snaps to yours at that, but his oncoming question is interrupted by a voice from the hallway. “The fuck are you two doing here so early?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Roy’s voice is a welcome one for the first time in eight years. Your eyes flash to him as he stands outside your shared office, glancing between the two of you in confusion. 

“We both had trouble sleeping,” you respond. “Felt like being early for once.”

Jamie nods in agreement. “Was shootin’ a bit outside. Saw the light was on and wanted to say hi to Coach.”

Roy nods but says nothing to that. He just continues to stare at Jamie in that vaguely intimidating, wildly annoying way. Jamie’s brows raise before Roy says, “You’re in my fucking chair.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Because you weren’t here. I was gonna get out when you got in.”

“Well, I’m in now,” Roy says. “So get out of my fucking chair.”

Jamie glances at you with a cheeky smile. “Grandad doesn’t like people in his chair.”

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Grandad doesn’t like a lot of things,” you reply, a strange sense of pride rising within you as Jamie’s grin widens.

“Grandad’s about to go out back out into the car park and drive through the facility if my chair’s not empty in three fucking seconds,” Roy grits.

You bite back a smile at the empty threat, watching as Jamie shakes his head and stands. “Easy there, geezer. I’m out. Going back to the pitch,” he tells you two, making his way out of the office. Before he leaves, he glances back at you. “And Coach? Don’t worry about what I said.”

You can feel Roy’s eyes on the side of your face as you give Jamie a small, grateful smile. But when he exits, it drops and you fail to hold back a heavy, shaky sigh. God, why the fuck can’t you do your fucking job? Why does this have to be so hard?

Less than a second of silence passes between you and Roy before he asks, “What did he say?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Nothing important.”

Roy doesn’t take the hint. He’s never been good at that. “What did he say?” he repeats.

“He—” You slump into your desk chair, running a hand down your face. You know avoiding this is no use. He’ll ask until he gets it out of you, so you might as well get it over with. “He asked me for extra training.”

Roy’s brows shoot up. “You?”

You glare at him from behind your fingers. “I’m a fantastic coach.”

“I know you are. But there’s no way he could have known.”

Your glare only gets more intense as you drop your hands. The implication of his statement isn’t lost on you. No one knows anything about you because of how little you’ve spoken. You get that. But he doesn’t need to be a dick about it.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “I said no, so.”

“You said no?” He sounds incredulous. “Since when do you say no?”

“Since—” The words get caught in your throat again, and it tightens horribly. Since West Ham. Since you said no more times than you could count and it went ignored.

You shake your head like it’ll clear your thoughts. “I’m just not comfortable with it.”

Roy’s suspicious. In your experience, a suspicious Roy Kent is just about as bad as a deceitful Roy Kent. Every fucking move you make for the next week will be under scrutiny until he can pinpoint whatever he thinks is happening. The idea makes you want to take him up on his offer to drive through the facility.

His eyes stay on you, calculating stare never breaking. “Why?” he asks, as if he’s expecting a simple answer.

But it’s not simple. It’s so unbelievably, wildly, completely the opposite of simple. 

But you give him a simple answer in return. It’s a bullshit answer, but it’s simple. “Boundaries,” you say. You’re out of your chair before he can respond to that. “I’m going to get more coffee.”

He says nothing as you exit, but you can feel his eyes on you. 

LONDON OLYMPICS. (LATE JULY, 2012)

As it turns out, Roy Kent’s Olympic Boot Camp is wildly more effective and insanely more fun than you thought it ever could be.

The two of you had met up twice since the night of the Opening Ceremony, at the same field, typically at the late-night same time. Roy had continued to send Roger the Driver for you, something you’d taken gladly advantage of, especially with your limited knowledge of the London area. You’d actually grown to love Roger despite his rather talkative nature, and he’d clearly taken a liking to you. 

(“Be kind to this one, Roy!” he’d yelled from the window as you’d exited his car. “The States need her much more than England needs you!”

“Fuck off, you old twat!”)

However, while these trainings had been way better than you’d expected, it’s also way fucking harder than you anticipated. 

You knew Roy was good. He was an AFC star. A Chelsea legend in the making. He was as well known as he was for a reason, and it wasn’t just because he frequented a tabloid cover. Roy was good.

But you think you may have underestimated just how good he was.

And it wasn’t like you weren’t keeping up with him. You could go shot for shot with him, run the same length and duration, and score on him with the same type of precision. Of course, he had his things that he was better at than you were (as a midfielder, he was a smart, fucking brick wall of a defender and wasn’t afraid to push you around) and you had your strengths over him (you were quicker than he was and your striker nature made you better at anticipating him). But there were certain things he’d do in the midst of a 1v1 drill that you would have never thought of, or he’d stop a play to give you a direction that had never occurred to you.

(Or, it would have occurred to you, but just not as quickly.)

That, coupled with the fact that he liked to run these practices until your lungs gave out, made for an intensely more challenging but rewarding experience.

But you didn’t think of them as rewarding until they were over. Case in point, your current and third meeting with him. It was 1:30 in the morning at Mabley Green on the 2nd of August and here you were, growing more and more frustrated with the fact that you couldn’t get around Roy despite the aggressive amount of fakes and footwork you were throwing around. He’d been in your ear the entire time, somehow encouraging you while still being a shit, and when you thought you had him, he stuck out a leg to stop the ball, effectively tripping you in the process.

You hit the ground with an ‘oof,’ taking advantage of your new horizontal position to lie for a minute and catch your breath. Your chest heaved up and down and you stared up at the huge lights illuminating the field. You could hear Roy walking toward you as you threw your arm over your eyes in exhaustion.

“You’re a dick,” you told him. “That fucking hurt.”

Roy’s scoff was loud. “That was a fucking dive.”

“You tripped me!”

“Bit dramatic.”

An affronted sound left your lips and you put your other hand up in a way that resembled a phone. “I’ve got the kettle on the line right now if you’d like to tell it it’s black.” 

You were surprised to hear him chuckle at this. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Your eyes roll from behind your arm. “I’m serious,” you say. “All you boys act like you were shot the second someone marks you. It’s pathetic.”

“Refs miss shit. You gotta put on a show.”

“Is that show The O.C? Because I’m always expecting an auto-tuned ‘mmm, whatcha say’ to sound off each time one of you losers hits the ground.”

Roy’s standing above you now, looking down with a half-amused expression. “I don’t know what the fuck that means.” He’s talking again before you can explain. “Get up. We’re not finished yet.”

A loud, ugly groan escapes you. You still haven’t completely caught your breath. “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re fine. Get up.”

“I’m serious,” you say again. You finally remove your arm from over your eyes, squinting up at him. He’s as unamused as ever. “I think I’m dying and you killed me. I think if you tried to get me up right now, I’d collapse and stroke out or something.”

“And it would be a fucking loss for us all,” he replies dryly, earning a scowl from you. “I’ve got you for another thirty. We’re wasting time.”

You release another groan and squeeze your eyes shut once more. “Can I please just have, like, five minutes?” you plead. “Not all of us have this military-regimented training style that you seem to. I haven’t been this dialed in since college. Still trying to adjust here.”

(You’ve also never trained like this with someone as good as him before, but you keep that one to yourself. He doesn’t need the ego boost.)

You don’t hear anything in response for a moment. Confused, you open your eyes, expecting to find him still staring down at you with a frown, but he’s not there. Before you can rise to find him, a plastic water bottle lands right next to your head. You flinch in surprise, shooting up to glare at him.

Roy sits down across from you before you can complain. “Five minutes,” he agrees. 

“Oh, thank God,” you mutter, opening up your water to take a long gulp. You glance at him. “Are all of your Boot Camps as intense as this?”

Roy rolls his eyes at your question. “I’m sure you’ve been to worse.”

“I have. But in like, high school. This shit’s got nothing on my two-week sleep-away soccer camp in Western Massachusetts.” You pause for a moment. “Or the one in North Carolina. That one sucked.”

He looks over at you. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Six A.M. early training sessions into all-day drills and tournament game play? Followed by a lovely nine P.M. late-night training?” You shake your head. “Insane. And that early and late-night stuff? Totally optional.”

“But you still chose to do it,” he states, brows raised.

“I still chose to do it,” you repeat. “That, and my psycho coach would keep tabs on me to make sure I was going.” You chuckle despite yourself and shrug. “But I did it. Without complaint.”

“I see you picked up the complaining later in life.”

You make a face at the way he smirks. “I’d be a masochist if I didn’t complain about this,” you tell him, biting back a smile. “I assume you were born with that trait?”

“Just fucking about,” he mutters. At your inquisitive look, he shrugs. “Sunderland scouted me when I was nine. Training was pretty fucking rough until I went into the AFC.”

“I forgot you guys could start that stuff that young over here,” you say, taking another sip of your water. “Was that tough?”

“I kept up,” he answers. “They were hard on us but—”

“No,” you interrupt. “I meant like, doing that shit at nine. Being away from your family. Being on your own that young. Was that hard?”

With every reason you listed, you could see him stiffening. His expression became harder and you figured if he could push a button to put a wall between you two, he would. Your stomach sank as you tried to figure out if you’d said the wrong thing or pushed too far. Maybe that was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. Despite the amount you’d spoken these past three sessions, maybe you weren’t yet friendly enough to ask about his upbringing. 

But then again, he barely talked about himself in any capacity, so maybe it wasn’t just that. Maybe it was everything.

He was quiet for a moment before he shook his head. “No,” he finally said, though the one word alone let you know the answer was the opposite. He glanced down at his watch. “Five minutes are up.”

And that conversation is over. Got it. No questions about his childhood. Understood.

Still, the dismissal catches you slightly off guard. “O-Oh,” you stammer. “Right. Okay.”

Roy said nothing else as he stood, making his way back to the end of the pitch. You suppose you should have expected that from someone like him. While he’d gotten better as a conversationalist as the days had passed, you still led the majority of the talking. And you were fine with that. You were a pretty open book yourself and often forgot that most people weren’t the same way. Maybe that was on you.

You sit for a moment, allowing him some distance before you stand. You throw your water bottle to the sideline and follow behind him, feeling a bit like a dog that just got scolded. But you quickly shake that feeling away as he stops where he left the ball and turns to you, kicking it in your direction.

You put your foot on it as you receive it and look at him expectantly. “I’m setting a timer for thirty seconds,” he tells you, starting to fiddle with his watch. “We’re staying in the box. If you don’t score on me within that time, you run a lap.”

Well, that just sounds like your own personal hell. You frown. “And if I do score?”

“You won’t,” Roy replies quickly, and you don’t know if you’ve ever heard him sound more sure.

“No, but when I do score?” you repeat, emphasizing the word to see him roll his eyes. “What happens? We subtract a lap?”

Roy shrugs. “Sure. But—”

“No,” you say, eyes lighting up. “You have to run.”

“I’m not the one being trained here.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a match tomorrow. And if my legs like, give out on the field I’m totally blaming you.” You roll the ball against your cleat. “‘I’m sure that ‘Roy Kent being the reason America loses’ isn’t exactly the headline your PR team’s gonna want.”

“I don’t give a fuck about PR,” he replies.

Images of rather negative tabloid covers and online gossip articles starring the man before you start flashing through your head. “Clearly.”

“I just don’t want anyone knowing I’m fraternizing with a fucking Yank,” he finishes, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

An overly fake and affronted gasp leaves your lips. “Fraternizing?” you parrot. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“Guess not,” he says. The smug expression intensifies. “Suppose I could tell them we’re training. Because the girl who’s supposed to be America’s fucking Ace needs it.”

That sparks a fire in you that you haven’t felt in a while. You can’t remember the last time someone challenged you like this. Sure, the women you played against would talk a fair amount of shit to you on and off the field, especially during a tight game when tensions were running high. But this was different. It was different hearing it from someone like him.

You’d never liked having to prove yourself. You knew it came with the territory of your chosen career path. You’d been doing it all your life. For every team you joined, every game you played, and every interview you gave, you’d been given an opportunity to prove yourself. And each time, you did. You were good at showing people up. But that didn’t mean you liked it.

You figured at some point people would just get the message. But unfortunately, that had never been the case.

So, as you look at Roy (who, by this point, knew he’d hit a nerve and had gotten the exact response he’d wanted), you know exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to prove yourself and show him up like the rest.

With that settled, you nod at him. “Start the clock,” you say.

And as soon as he does, you’re on.

You attack without caution this time around. You’d never held back when practicing with Roy (mainly because he’d reprimand you if he felt you weren’t trying hard enough), but you also rarely had an edge to you like this. It’s new and aggressive and just a bit exciting.

Roy’s fucking ecstatic to see it. His chest meets your back as you attempt to pass him and you can feel him chuckling against it. “That’s it,” he says lowly. “Get around me. I fucking dare you.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, attempting a fake before moving to go the other way.

Said attempt ends up being less than successful as Roy fails to fall for it and kicks the ball out from beneath your foot. You swear under your breath, watching as it sails out of the box.

You’re close enough to him to still feel his chest moving up and down against your back, and his breath tickles your neck when he asks, “Is that seriously the best you’ve got?”

Your jaw clenches, but you refuse to look at him. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you.”

The certainty in your voice makes Roy grin, something you don’t see as you jog to retrieve the ball. The remnants of the smile stick around as you whip around to face him, commanding that he start the clock once more. The moment he does as he’s told, you’re coming at him again, nothing but determination to be seen in your expression.

This time, you’re quick. You anticipate his classic defensive stance, knowing that he’ll block your first shot. As soon as the ball bounces off his foot, you’re there for the rebound. You stop short, pulling back the moment he makes yet another move to take it from you, and he slips. 

You easily score on him not a second later.

After watching the ball fly into the net, you glance over at Roy. While he doesn’t look thrilled to have been bested, he doesn’t look sad either. Again, it’s like there are remnants of a smile left to be seen. 

“So,” you say. “Are we at zeroes for laps? Or one for one?”

Roy shakes his head. “One for one. Let’s keep fucking going.”

PRESENT DAY. (MID AUGUST, 2023)

It isn’t until the end of practice that you can feel it. How much Roy wants to fight with you.

It sounds stupid to phrase it like that, but it’s the only way. He’s pent up, a week into your ‘no fighting’ deal, and ready to burst. And while it’s worked (only because you two strictly talk about work and nothing else), now that he’s got something more personal to say, it’s like you’re waiting for an active volcano.

To be fair, your deal has worked in terms of not making a scene and not raising most people’s suspicions. But every other level, it’s been torturous. And right now? Roy’s ready to kill you.

He can’t, for the life of him, understand why you’re acting like this. 

He knows you. You’re warm. You’re friendly. You have this innate ability to make everyone around you comfortable in your presence, an ability to talk to anyone and everyone and actually get through. All of these things, coupled with the fact that he could never shut you up, made you who you were; a great teammate and an even better coach. 

(They were also all qualities Roy wished he had himself, which is why he was so fucking drawn to you in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He doesn’t know who this is. But he knows for a fact that these changes aren’t just because of time.

Roy’s breaking point, however, occurs toward the end of your Thursday practice. It’d been a good day, the boys showing more promise than ever. End-of-pre-season jitters (as Ted called them) were in full force and it was clear that the team couldn’t be more excited to get started with the season.

In your return back into the facility, Sam Obisanya trails back to fall into step with you with a wide smile on his face. He doesn’t miss the look of surprise you give him as he says, “I really liked what you said about passing around the box. I’ve been thinking that for all of pre-season, but did not know how to get it through to everyone.”

The point he’s referring to was one of the only things you’d said all afternoon. It was a quiet direction on your part, told more as a recommendation than an instruction. But Sam, Jamie, Colin, and Dani had taken it in stride, and it worked. Cleanly, too. You straight-up almost cried out of relief.

“Oh,” you say to him lamely, offering a small smile. “Thank you. You guys did great with it.”

Sam’s grin gets wider. “We all are going to eat after we’re done here,” he tells you. “You should join us.”

You can feel your stomach drop at the offer. You don’t want to turn him down. Poor Sam was trying so hard to make an effort with you and you feel completely awful giving him nothing in return. 

But you just… can’t. Boundaries. Boundaries.

Sam gets his answer from the way your smile turns apologetic. “I wish I could,” you say, knowing that it’s the truth. “But, I, uh— I’ve actually got plans tonight.”

“You could just come for a drink?” he offers. “I’m only going for a little while myself. I have some things at the restaurant I need to do.”

Your heart clenches. “I really wish I could.”

Thankfully, Sam takes the hint. He nods at you, still smiling. You don’t think he’s ever stopped. “That’s alright,” he says. “Another time.”

You nod back. “Yeah. Another time.”

With that, Sam goes to catch up with his teammates and leaves you with an overwhelming amount of guilt on your shoulders. 

He’s trying, you tell yourself. They all are. It’s different than West Ham. They’re not the same. Nobody on this team is like him—

You can feel yourself getting nauseous at the mere thought of him. It completely takes you out of the moment and your hands begin to shake back and forth as you attempt to continue walking, clenching your teeth as if that’ll rid your mind of him.

How strange it is to be haunted by someone who’s still living.

You’re already disoriented enough when you feel a hand grab your arm and yank you to the side. Your world spins for a moment and when it stabilizes, you realize you’re in the Boot Room staring at Roy Kent.

He slams the door shut and whirls around on you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You do a full, cartoon-like double-blink at him. “What am I doing?” you ask him incredulously. “What are you doing? Why the hell did you pull me in here like that?”

“You don’t have plans tonight,” is what he replies with, like that’s a reasonable answer to your question.

“And how would you know that?” you question. 

He gives you a look. “Because you fucking don’t.”

“I do,” you say, crossing your arms. Your mind scrambles to find some excuse that’s suitable. For whatever reason, you decide on, “I have a date.”

Roy’s brows rocket up. “Do you?”

You know he can see right through you, so you don’t even bother trying. “No,” you admit, watching him roll his eyes. “But I could have. You don’t know my schedule.”

Roy doesn’t seem to want to linger on this. “That’s the third fucking time one of them has invited you out since you got here,” he tells you, ignoring the way your eyes widen. “Why do you keep turning them down?”

“Why are you keeping track of that?” you shoot back.

“Because you’re being a fucking hermit.” As if he knows exactly what you’re going to say next, he holds out a hand. “And that’s my fucking job. That’s not who you are.”

His words make you deflate, and your arms get tighter over your chest. “I’m not being a hermit,” you mutter, looking away from him. “I’m just not trying to take work home with me. I don’t see anything wrong with keeping the two separate.”

Roy isn’t having it. “No, you’re not,” he says. “You’re not keeping the two separate. You’re shutting out every fucking person around you when you’re at work too.” 

“That’s not true—”

“Did you or did you not refuse to train Jamie yesterday morning?” he snaps. Your silence answers his question for him. “It is fucking true. And even if it weren’t, unfortunately, that whole keeping-work-separate fucking bullshit doesn’t work here. Trust me. I tried.”

You scoff. “Well, that sounds like an HR issue.”

“Well, when Ted stops leaving fucking flowers for the HR women every week, I’m sure they’ll start to take your complaints seriously,” he tells you, and you sigh. Heavy. “Now, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

This question earns him a glare. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” you bite. “And if there were, it surely wouldn’t concern you.”

“Yes, it fucking does. You know why?” he asks. You stare at him expectantly. “Because last week, I remember someone telling me that if this was going to work, we have to tell each other things.”

Your own words come back to bite you in the ass and it makes your chest tighten. You scoff in an attempt to play it off, but that panic starts rising inside of you and throws everything off course. You know that it’s stupid, and you know that it’s Roy, and that despite it all, deep down, nothing bad would come from telling him… it’s still scary.

You didn’t want to talk about it and he didn’t deserve to know. Not yet, at least.

“Not this,” you say after a beat. Your voice sounds meek and it makes Roy’s brow scrunch. “I’ll talk to you about anything else you want, but not…” You interrupt yourself with a breath. “Not this.” Then, you utter a word you haven't said in eight years. "Foxtrot."

It’s then that Roy’s expression turns from confused to shocked. His lips part in surprise, like he can’t believe that just left your mouth. And then he looks at you. Like, really looks at you. It almost intimidates you in a way, and it would intimidate you more if you didn’t know this look of his. Not only is he evaluating you, you can tell he’s holding something back.

You’d said the word. Pulled that thing out of the trenches and threw it in his face. But he's still staring at you, determined to figure out exactly how to approach this situation. Attempting to figure out if he should say something.

Because, unfortunately, as well as you know Roy, he knows you better. And he knows how to get through to you. 

(And it’s fucking irritating.)

He, in fact, does choose to say something. And it’s not what you’re expecting. Because before he says in, he reaches into his pocket for his wallet, filing through it. 

Your mouth parts in question. “Are you trying to bribe me into—”

“Shut up,” he mutters, and you do so until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He holds out a slip of paper-- something that appears to be a newspaper clipping from ages ago. “Here.”

You blink at it. “What is that?”

“Just fucking—” Roy sighs, adjusting his grip on the page. “Read it.”

Hesitantly, you reach out to grab it. Your fingers brush his when you take it, and the action alone makes the two of you glance at each other. You look away as you unfold the paper, quickly scanning it.

Newcomer Roy Kent is an over-hyped, so-called prodigy whose unbridled rage and mediocre talent rendered his Premier League debut a profound disappointment.

Your gaze shifts up at him knowingly. Roy can’t help but notice that most of the anger has slipped from your face. “Crimm?”

Roy nods once. “Crimm.”

“Was this your first game?” you ask, and when he nods again, things start to make a little more sense. You sigh, shoulders slumping. “You were seventeen.”

“I was seventeen,” he repeats, reaching out to take the clipping back from you. He only seems marginally surprised that you remembered that. “I was fucking seventeen years old and fucking debilitated by how nervous I was. I didn’t sleep for days before the game and then I went out there, I fucking survived it, and then read that shit. Didn’t sleep for days after it.” He shakes his head. “And then that prick fucking waltzes in here with his notepad and his stupid fucking hair like he didn’t fucking destroy me and wants to write a book about my team? Not a fucking chance.”

The outburst makes you stare at Roy in shock. He’d never mentioned anything like this to you. By the way he spoke of his earlier AFC days at Sunderland, you’d always assumed that it was smooth sailing. That while his career didn’t really take off until he joined Chelsea, he didn’t hold any resentment for anything that had happened. And while this may have seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things, especially looking back at his career and other things people had said about him, this was Roy. Of course, he’d hold on to something like this.

“So, yeah,” he says, shifting uncomfortably under your gaze. “That’s why I won’t talk to Crimm. I don’t give a shit if you don’t get it, but that’s why.” He motions to you. “I showed you mine, so you show me yours, or whatever the fuck. That's how the counter-Foxtrot works, right?”

You do get it. You understand it better than anyone. But more importantly, you understand why he’d hold on to that. Roy, who could hold a grudge almost as well as you could. Roy, who hated the media and press and the world knowing shit about him more than anyone you knew. Roy, who felt and internalized things so deeply that he didn’t even realize he was doing it. 

It’s the first thing he’s clued you in on in years. Even if it was vague and minimal, he told you. And you know how much he didn’t want to. That’s good enough for you to allow yourself to clue him in too.

(God, he really does know how to get through, huh?)

You blink away from him, gaze focused on the door. “I just…” You clear your throat, throwing a hand up pathetically. “I don’t get why they want to get to know me so bad.”

“Because they’re good fucking lads,” he responds.

“I know. And it’s pissing me off,” you mutter. Your arms are still crossed and right now, that feels like the only thing that’s protecting you. The weight is comforting. “I know it sounds ungrateful and dumb and it doesn’t make sense, but I just wish they’d…”

“...Fuck off?”

“Yeah,” you huff. “That.”

Roy’s head tilts. “Why?”

You don’t want to tell him. You know how stupid he’ll think it is, you know you’ll get told you’re an idiot. But he’s already told you something. In your world of deals, that means something. And your words return again to taunt you.

If this is gonna work, you have to tell me things, okay?

Your eyes shut and a shaky breath escapes your lips. It all comes out at once, like you’re trying to exterminate them. “Because the last time I got to know the team, I got fired,” you tell him, and his entire demeanor shifts. “And I can’t do that again. That can’t happen again. So, if that means I have to be distant and a bit unfriendly, then so be it.”

The inquisitive look he wore vanished entirely, replaced with something harder and much more serious. “What do you mean?”

You can feel your skin start to crawl. Your shirt suddenly doesn’t feel right on your body. It’s too hot in this small Boot Room and it’s all suddenly too much. “N-Nothing,” you say, chest tightening. “It doesn’t matter. You asked for the reason, and I gave it to you. That’s why I’m being weird.”

Roy’s not buying it. He’s seen all your signs and he knows there’s more to this than you’re letting on. You can tell he’s battling whether or not to press forward, and if so, how to do so. Your eyes are pleading for him to drop it. 

“It wasn’t leadership differences,” he decides to land on. He says it like he’s always known. Like it may be confirming another suspicion. But it’s vague enough that you’re okay with it.

You chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “No,” you say. “Not exactly.”

Roy nods, silence filling the room. He’s still staring at you and you’re starting to think he won’t ever stop. You notice the sliver of anger in his eyes but see it’s more subdued than usual. It’s not directed at you. It’s like he’s filing it away for later.

He speaks a moment later. “Whatever happened there,” he begins, voice low. “It won’t happen here. It would never happen here.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m starting to get that,” you answer honestly. “But it’s still hard.”

“I know.” Roy says, and the way he nods tells you that he does know. His mouth opens, wanting to say more, but it doesn’t come out immediately. “Just…” His eyes cast up to the ceiling. “If anything, just fucking… speak up in practice more. You’re their coach now. If you don’t want to get fucking personal with them, at least get to know them on the field.”

“I know them on the field,” you reply, because you do. You know your new players inside and out. You’ve studied them. You know their strengths, their weaknesses, what makes them tick. You know what works. “I do.”

“I know that,” is Roy’s immediate response, just like this morning. He points to the door. “But they fucking don’t. And they won’t know it until you fucking show them.”

This time, you look away from him because you know he’s right. A decade ago, Roy was just about fifty-fifty when it came to right and wrong, but now? He was consistently on target. You’re not sure which switch flipped in him or when, but goddamn, was it maddening.

You ask him such as you huff in annoyance. “Since when are you right all the fucking time?”

Roy’s clearly not expecting that, and it’s evident by the way he barks out a laugh. But, he figures, if you’re going to be nice, he supposes he will too. 

“You were gone,” he replies with a chuckle. “Figured I had to pick up the slack.”

Involuntarily, your eyes go soft at his words. They’re kind and truthful and genuinely civil. It’s only for a moment, but Roy picks up on it in an instant. It makes the tiny, less resentful piece of him want to make it happen again, but he tells that piece of him to shut the fuck up.

He watches you as you sigh, shutting your eyes as if you’re readjusting. “Okay,” you finally say. “I’ll be better. I’ll… actually do my job, I guess.”

“About fucking time,” Roy mutters, though it’s slightly encouraging.

“But,” you continue, “I can’t… I can’t train Jamie. I can’t do one-on-one. That’s my non-negotiable.”

Roy wants to ask why. He wants to understand. He knows he’d be shit at helping you through it, but he just wants to get it. However, the look on your face keeps him from saying what he wants to. So, instead, he simply nods. “Okay.”

The relief you feel is written across your face. “Okay,” you agree. Then, you add, “I, uh, did tell him to ask you, though.”

Roy’s expression goes blanker than usual. “You fucking what?”

“You’re a good one-on-one trainer,” you offer, voice going up an octave. “I’m, like, your top reference.”

“Yeah, but you’re you,” Roy responds. “I can work with you. Not Jamie Tartt.”

You shrug. “What’s the difference?”

“Jamie Tartt is a fucking prick,” he states, as if it’s obvious. “You’re infuriating. And annoying. And a fucking headache. But he’s all those things on top of being a fucking prick.”

Your lips part at this, squinting at Roy. “I’m sorry, and you wanted me to train him?”

Roy doesn’t acknowledge your comment. “I’m not fucking training him.”

“I’m not saying you have to,” you respond, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m just letting you know that I passed him off to you.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll tell him to fuck off.”

“Glad you have a game plan.” While those words were lilted with annoyance, your next are a bit softer. “He… seemed a bit worried about Zava.”

Roy’s brow draws slightly. “Zava?”

“He tried to play it off,” you explain, “but he wasn’t subtle. Jamie’s obviously used to being the best on the team. I’m not sure he’s loving the competition.”

“The twat will get over it,” Roy says. “Sometimes you’re the best on the field, sometimes you’re not. That’s fucking life.”

You shoot him a look. “I don’t think he shakes things off like that. He’s not like you and me where we either don’t care or immediately use that type of shit for motivation.” Your eyes cast up to the ceiling as you speak, spilling out every thought you’ve had since Jamie came to you. “Guys like him, they need that reassurance. That ego needs to be healed when it’s been shot down, and then they’re finally ready to get motivated…” You trail off as soon as you see the way Roy’s looking at you. Head-tilted and slightly satisfied. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies with a shrug. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “It’s just nice to get to see you finally fucking coaching.”

Warmth rises up your neck. It’s a mixture of embarrassment, being called out, and something else. The feeling makes you itch and in an attempt to shake it off, you shrug. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence and for a second, you think he’s going to make you sit in this air. However, he seems to take pity on you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a soft agreement, one that you weren’t sure you were going to get. But it takes a bit of the weight off nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“He’s still a prick,” he adds, like he can’t help himself. 

You nod in faux assurance. “Sure, Grandad.”

Roy casts his eyes to the ceiling. “Fuck’s sake, not you too.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. For the first time in eight years, Roy sees you laugh. It’s quiet. Light, even. But it’s lovely. It’s sweet. Roy can’t believe he’d allowed himself to go so long without hearing it. 

Yet another silence passes between you two. Maybe it’s to savor the moment. Maybe it’s to remember. Perhaps it’s both. Perhaps it’s neither. 

Whatever it is, it suddenly feels way too comfortable. There’s a split second where you’re back in 2015, just before everything went to shit. And that can’t happen. You can’t allow that to happen.

However, before you can move past that, Roy just has to catch you off guard. “So, you’ll start fucking coaching and I’ll… consider training with him.” He says the words like they take effort. And then, he looks at you and completely throws you off. “Should we shake on it?”

The words are hesitant and you know why. You have to refrain from taking a step back from him simply because of the weight that they carry. All you can do is stare at his outstretched hand. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his hands were shaking.

But, you snap yourself out of it, and when you meet him in the middle, you’re certain yours are.

He holds eye contact with you as you make the agreement, hands grasped around each others with the intention of a promise. It’s too real. Too familiar. Too… much.

So, before you can freak out in front of him, you cut it short with a nod and remove your hand from his. You glance out the window of the Boot Room door to see the team pass by, all packed up and ready for their outing. One you know you should be joining, but just aren’t there yet.

When you turn back to him, the small smile on your face is tight. But you’re truthful when you say, “Thank you.”

Roy doesn’t need to ask what for. He knows. Of course he does. 

But luckily for you, he seems to be on the same page, blinking at you like he’s pulling himself out of some self-induced trance. “Right.” He awkwardly returns your nod, avoiding eye contact as he heads for the door. “Don’t make me say any of that shit again.”

And, as soon as the door shuts behind him, you’re finally left with more answers than questions about your place at Richmond for the first time all week.

(The same can’t be said for your questions about Roy. But, you figure, what else is new?)

PRESENT DAY. (MID-BOOT ROOM FIGHT WITH ROY KENT, 2023)

If you hadn’t been so consumed by your conversation with one of your fellow coaches, you would have noticed the other two watching you from the window. And as for questions, they had many.

The first is asked by Ted, approximately one minute after he and Beard had stationed themselves outside of the door. “Should we break it up?”

Beard shook his head slowly. “They’ve been tiptoeing around this one since she started,” he replied. “We break this up now, you might lose an arm.”

Ted shifted back on his heels. “You don’t think we can get them to hug it out, do you?”

“That’d be the reason you lose the arm, pal.”

“Yeah, Roy’s not much of a hugger, is he?” The silence that passed between them spoke as an agreement. The two watched as you crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes as Roy seemed to reprimand you. “Do you think this thing between them goes deeper than he let on?”

Beard’s response was immediate. “Oh, yeah. Way deeper.”

“Did we sign ourselves up for something crazy? Something we can’t handle?”

“Oh, yeah,” Beard repeated. Then, he shook his head. “But nothing we can’t handle.”

“Well, then, what do we do?” Ted asked. “Because we can’t have them ‘fine, fine’-ing each other like they’re Sam and Diane all season. The kids ain’t fine, fine, Coach.”

Ted turned to his friend, who’d gone quiet. He followed his sightline to the corner of the Boot Room where Will was hiding, looking as though he were praying to any God who would listen that the two of you wouldn’t notice him.

Pity overtook both of their expressions. “I…” Beard drew out, brow furrowing as he watches Roy pull out his wallet. “...may have an idea.”

When Beard did look over at Ted, there was an excited look in his eye and a wide smile threatening to break out. “I know that voice,” he said. “Am I thinkin’ what you’re thinking?”

“Parent Trap ‘em?” he asked.

Ted grinned. “We really should go on The Newlywed Game.”

“It wouldn’t be fair. We’d sweep.”

LONDON OLYMPICS. (LATE JULY, 2012)

It’s nearly three in the morning when Roy tells you that your next rally will be your last for the night.

To say you’re thankful would be an understatement. Your lungs are screaming at you and have been for the last fifteen minutes. You can feel the early signs of shin splints with every move you make, and you already know you’re going to wake up tomorrow morning with a ridiculous amount of pain in your hamstrings. 

But you didn’t care. That didn’t matter. What mattered was getting your newfound training companion to shut the fuck up. And the only way to do that was to beat him in this little game he created to a pulp.

It was tragically ironic to find that Roy Kent, a man who was typically of so few words, couldn’t seem to keep quiet when he was playing against you. He had a special sort of talent for getting under your skin, somehow saying the exact thing that would press a specific button that you didn’t even know you had. He was frustrating. Infuriating, even. And there was no shot in hell you were losing to this jackass, especially when you’d managed to tie the score.

(But you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t having at least a little bit of fun.)

However, the relief on your face at his declaration is palpable, and your expression makes Roy raise his brows. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking tired,” he says. “We’ve still got laps to run.”

You throw your head back with an exaggerated groan. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know,” you say. “Can we just go so I can beat you and leave?”

Roy’s head tilts. “You’re confident for someone who looks like she’s gonna drop fucking dead.”

“Like you look any better,” you shoot back, eying the grass and dirt that had stained his legs. 

To be fair, you hadn’t lied. Roy didn’t look any better than you did. He was just as roughed up, if not more. There was a sense of pride in that, knowing that he’d had to try as hard to beat you as you did for him. You felt equal. This game had never been equal before.

He seems to know this too. “Well, fucking get on with it then.”

The ball’s at your feet, and you stare down at it as you try to plan how you’re going to attack. What haven’t you done yet? What won’t he be expecting? How can you ensure that--

“Don’t fucking think about it,” you hear him say. When you look up at him in annoyance, he shakes his head. “Just fucking do it.”

But you can’t not think about it. Thinking is what you do. It’s how you stay ahead, it’s how you’ve beaten him in this little game before, it’s how you’re going to beat him now. 

But now you’re frustrated. You wanted to get this over with and prove him wrong and show him up. You’re so sick of hearing him say that and you kick the ball out in front of you to shut him up. And suddenly, you’re playing.

He’s guarding you before you know it. You cut the ball to your left, kicking it through his legs as he tries to meet you. You push your elbow against his chest as you chase down the ball, gritting your teeth when you feel him whip around to recover from his misstep. His chest presses against your shoulder, repeatedly bumping into you each time he works to get the ball from you.

“Come on, Fourteen,” he chides in your ear. “Finish me off like you said you would.”

You shove your shoulder into him again. It’s more forceful this time and the soft sound he makes in response feels like a victory. He drops back to follow you to the goal, which gives you the space you need to maneuver your body into a more comfortable position. 

You’re just outside the box, but you know that whatever move you make next, he’s going to be there to block it. You know his tricks. You’re on track to figuring out how his mind works on the field. Maybe you can outsmart him. Rely on your footwork to psych him out and—

Roy then seems to see you thinking. And he chooses that time to attack. So, footwork it is.

As he nears you, you roll the ball in the opposite direction, keeping an eye on him in your peripheral. Your foot pulls the ball back in a V, then you move it forward to creep into the box. 

He’s still in front of you. While you were quicker, Roy was never one to give up. It was what made him so great on the pitch and so annoying to play against. An idea then sparks: if you can get him to bite, get him close enough to you, you can chop the ball to get him off balance, then spin to get a better angle on the goal.

So, you do exactly that. Or, at least try to.

You swear he can see in your head. That he can read your mind and every thought that crosses it. Because while you do catch him slightly off guard, he recovers the second you try to spin. He’s behind you and before you know it, you’re the one caught off balance. He kicks the ball away from you and out of the box, leaving you to fall on your ass and stain the backs of your thighs.

Fuck. Fuck.

You’re on your back again for the second time today, eyes screwed shut in frustration and disappointment. How had he done it? You swore that was going to work. It’d worked millions of times before, how could it possibly have gone wrong now?

There’s a piece of you that wants to cry. That frustration, that exhaustion, that need to prove yourself had all come crashing down onto your chest, and here you were, in the same place you were before the drill had started.

You don’t even want to look at him. You’re almost too embarrassed to do so. You know that it’s all a part of your deal, that you’re supposed to fail and get better with him, but it’s still a kick in the teeth to end a session like this with a loss. 

You’re able to feel Roy’s presence before you hear him. “Get up,” he tells you.

A loud, shaky sigh escapes you. “I need a second before you run me into the ground, Coach.”

If he notices how your voice wavers, he doesn’t say anything. “Not your coach,” he replies, though he’s speaking softer. “But I’m not running you either.”

You crack an eye open. “Really?”

“C’mon,” he says, holding his hand out for you to take. “Up.”

You stare at his hand for a moment, then cast your eyes up to the starless sky with another heavy sigh. Then, you begrudgingly take his hand, allowing him to yank you up with a strength you’re not expecting.

His hand lingers in yours as you get your bearings. It’s rough and just a bit clammy, but you can’t imagine yours are any better. You’re not looking at him when you remove your hand from his, but find his eyes when he taps your shoulder.

“C’mon,” Roy repeats. He nods over to the track around the field. “Let’s go.”

“I thought we weren’t running,” you mutter.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “We’re not fucking running,” he responds. “But you need a cool down. Stop your fucking whining and walk with me.”

A scowl appears on your lips at his words, but you relent and follow him. “Fine.”

It’s quiet between you two, giving you a moment to catch your breath and think about what just happened. While you’re thankful that you don’t have to do your laps, so still can’t believe you lost. Yes, it’s just practice, and yes, it doesn’t mean anything, but it’s still… it’s the principal of it. You’ve never been a good loser. You’ve never—

“We need to work on your footwork,” Roy says abruptly, interrupting your train of thought. You glance over at him. “It’s your biggest weakness besides your overthinking.”

A frown pulls at your lips. “My footwork is fine.”

“Yeah. Exactly. It’s fine,” he agrees. “And that’s the fucking problem. Nobody out there can fucking catch you, so you’ve never had to worry about it. But the second you get tighter and more concise…” He shakes his head. “Pair all that with your unpredictability and fucking annoying defense, you’ll blow them all out of the fucking water.”

Pride bubbles in your stomach and rises to your chest. You know that you’re good. And you know that he thinks you’re good. He wouldn’t have taken a chance on you if he hadn’t. But it’s still validating to hear. Especially from him.

But still, you can’t help yourself; “I’m not annoying.”

Roy scoffs, but you can tell he’s biting back a smile. “You are. You’re like a fucking gnat.”

“I am not a gnat,” you gasp. 

“You are. Fucking buzzing in my ear and shit.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being aggressive. You’d know something about that, hypocrite.” When Roy huffs a laugh and shakes his head, you bat him on the arm. “I’m serious. When I crossed you up and hit that corner goal toward the end?” You blow an exaggerated breath and raise your brows at him. “I haven’t seen you that mad since that Arsenal game in like, 2007.”

His response to your jab isn’t what you expected. While you’d anticipated a classic eye roll, a reaction of his that you’d become very familiar with, you get a look of intrigue. “You watched that game?”

“Of course I did,” you respond. Your lips tug into a smile. “I’m a huge Arsenal fan.”

Then you get the eye roll. “You must have been fucking distraught to see your team lose.”

“It was heartbreaking,” you say. “It was fun to see you get thrown out, though.”

“That was a fucking bullshit call,” he scoffs.

“You almost broke Lewis Fox’s leg. And then tried to fight him from the ground.”

“Exactly. Fucking bullshit,” he says. “It shouldn’t count when he’s a prick.”

You allow for a beat of reflection before you respond. “Yeah, he really is a prick, isn’t he?”

That gets you something you haven’t seen from him yet. A smile. A real one, where you can see teeth and all. It’s jarring. And suddenly the pride you felt from his compliments is nothing compared to the feeling you get from this.

It grows as Roy carries on. “The fucking King of them.”

“Prince,” you say in disagreement. “He’s too much of a jackass to honor with a King title. Prince Prick. Duke of Prickland. Court Jester. Whatever.”

“Court Jester?”

“Absolutely,” you reply. “He’d look good in the stupid little hat, too. Would hide the fact that he’s balding.”

Roy barks out a laugh. “He’s going fucking mental over that.”

“I can imagine.” Teasingly, you add, “I guess that’s the one thing you’ve got over him.”

“My hair?”

“Yeah. You’ve got enough to share with him.”

Roy shakes his head again, smile refusing to fade. “Well, thank fucking God it’s something important.”

“Hey, football skills are forever. Hair starts to fade when you hit twenty-five.” You shrug and return his grin. “I’d say you’re winning this one, Kent.”

A labored sigh leaves Roy, like he can’t believe he’s having this type of conversation with you. Frankly, you can’t believe you’re talking like this with him. You’re talking like… friends. It’s strange. Especially after he completely shut you down when talking before.

That thought sinks deep into your mind and you know it won’t go away until you address it. Huh. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you do overthink.

Before you can question that further, you’re speaking. “Hey. I—” You awkwardly cut yourself off as his gaze returns to you. “I just… I wanted to say that I’m sorry if I like, overstepped a boundary back there.” He continues to look at you in response, cueing you to elaborate. “Asking about Sunderland. Leaving your family. That.”

The second you say ‘Sunderland,’ he looks away from you. You grit your teeth as you refrain from cringing, hoping you didn’t ruin what was almost a normal, nice, and friendly moment. That anxiety makes you talk more. 

“You don’t owe me any answers, or anything. We can keep this professional and talk about soccer and how much we both hate Lewis Fox only.” Roy still hasn’t looked at you. “You don’t have to talk to me at all, if you don’t want to. I’m just… pretty open. And I forget that other people aren’t the same way. So…” You trail off, fiddling with your fingers. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet for approximately ten seconds. Each feels like agony as you rot in the awkwardness of the silence. Then, he says, “Don’t… fucking apologize for trying to get to know me.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting at all. “O-Oh.”

“I’m fucking obviously going to talk to you,” he continues, in a way that makes it sound like he’s choosing his words carefully. “But there’s just certain things that I… really fucking hate talking about. And that was one of them.”

You’re nodding before he’ss finished speaking. “Completely understandable.”

Roy looks over at you cautiously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Like I said, I’m not entitled to anything. You just let me know when I’ve crossed a line or something.” Your eyes light up in a way that Roy refuses to find endearing. “We can have a codeword or something.”

“A codeword?” he asks wearily.

“Yes, Roy. A codeword.” You stop him in the middle of the track. “Okay, Kent Rule number one. If either of us—”

“What the fuck is a Kent Rule?”

“If either of us,” you repeat, “don’t want to talk about something, we say…” Your eyes scan the field. “Goalpost.”

Roy blinks at you. “That’s a stupid fucking codeword.”

“Okay, you don’t get to shit on my idea and then shit on my codeword, dick,” you say, ignoring the tiny smile that’s growing on his face. “Let me hear yours.”

His eyes scan you up and down. “Gnat.”

“Oh, look who’s fucking annoying now.”

“I think that’s a great one.”

“I think I’m back on Lewis Fox’s side now,” you mutter. Before Roy can roll his eyes, you point at him in excitement. “Fox! That’s our codeword.” Then, you interrupt yourself, by throwing both your hands out. “Wait. Foxtrot. That sounds so much more legit.”

Roy’s had only gotten blanker as you spoke. “I think you should be institutionalized.”

“Kent Rule number one,” you say, ignoring him. “If you don’t want to talk about something, say Foxtrot. We move on, no questions asked.”

“Great.”

“But,” you continue, “you only get one Foxtrot a day.”

“Only fucking one?” he asks.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“Because you ask a lot of fucking questions.”

You huff. “Fine. No one-a-day rule. But use them sparingly.”

“Can I Foxtrot this conversation?” Roy questions.

You don’t give him the reaction he clearly desires. “Look at you, you’re getting the hang of it!” you cheer, clapping him on the shoulder. “So, does Kent agree to the Kent Rule?”

You receive yet another exasperated shake of the head. “Fucking fine. Yeah. I agree.”

“Wonderful,” you reply, sticking your hand out to him. When he looks down at it, you wiggle your fingers. “We have to shake on it.”

“What?”

“Because it’s not a real agreement if we don’t shake on it,” you answer, as if it’s obvious. “Duh.”

Roy stares at your hand, then at you, and then back at your hand. After a ridiculous amount of time, his shoulders slump in defeat. His hand meets yours and when it does, you beam.

“Institutionalized,” he tells you as you two shake. “I’m fucking serious.”

“And risk your life being way less exciting without me in it?” You put a hand over your heart. “You’d miss me too much.”

And when you grin at him, there’s a piece of Roy that already knows that there might just be a sliver of truth in that.

(mini!) TAGLIST: @tegan8314, @csigeoblue, @confessionsofatotaldramaslut, @thatonedogwithablog, @hawkeyeharrington

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #aatwe #aces #the one who can't walk up stairs

[bun-lapin]

Hello I am not the same person who asked for the game night with the freshmen. But I really injoied it. Can u make a part 2./ gen pos

Hello and thanks for the request! I'm so glad you liked the first one! I loved writing the 'hanging out with your buddies' mood of this prompt. Really brought back a lot of fun memories from my high school days~! Hope it's ok that they're playing a different game this time and that I tweaked the rules a bit to fit the story better. I also tried out a slightly different formatting due to the extra dialogue <3

Game night part 1: link here

CW: humor, platonic friendship, silly time

First Years Game Night: part 2

Walking into the lounge with a broom and dustpan in hand, you take in the chaotic scene of spilled popcorn on the floor, countless empty cans of juice scattered around the room, and your fellow first years excitedly shouting and running all over the place. You stride over to where Grim is lounging on a cushioned chair and hand him the cleaning tools with a stern look. He reluctantly takes the broom from you and sighs, “Yeah, yeah I got it. My mess, my job to clean it up.” He halfheartedly begins cleaning and you turn to face the rest of the group as Ace begins speaking.

“Alright everyone!” Ace shouts and everyone settles down. “Time for our next game which is: Who am I?” He holds up a small box of folded paper scraps and shakes it. “I just finished writing the names and the overall category is important people on campus. So basically housewardens, vice housewardens, staff, you get the picture. The teams have been reshuffled and you’ll have one minute to ask as many ‘yes or no’ questions as you can to your partner to figure out who you are. Everyone understand?” He grins as everyone nods their head. “Sweet! Let’s get this game started then!”

Round 1: Ace ❤️ and Deuce ♠️

Ace stands with his back to the group as Deuce fishes out a random name from the box. He sticks the paper to Ace’s back with some tape and then walks over to stand facing him. The rest of the first years stand behind Ace and read the name on his back. Epel tries not to burst out laughing when he sees the name ‘Vil Schoenheit’.

Ace: Am I a housewarden? Deuce: Yes. Ace: Sweet! That narrows it down to like seven people! Ace: Am I rich? Deuce: What!? How would I even know something like that?! Jack: The rules state you can only answer yes or no! Deuce: (He thinks really hard as many seconds go by) ...Yes? Ace: Do I put a lot of care into my appearance? Deuce: Yeah! Ace: Am I a hard worker? Deuce: Yes. (You hear Epel sigh very tiredly next to you.)

Ace suddenly yells out, “I got it! I’m Azul Ashengrotto!” The timer rings out.

As Ace checks the paper on his back, everyone sits in stunned silence thinking about how Vil and Azul share a surprising amount of characteristics.

Round 2: Jack 🐺 and Sebek 🐊

Jack tapes his selected name to Sebek’s back and then swiftly takes his place facing his teammate. Everyone else leans in to read the paper and then immediately hold their sides with silent laughter as they see the name ‘Malleus Draconia’ taped to Sebek’s back.

As soon as the timer is started, Sebek begins shouting a stream of questions without leaving a single pause for Jack to answer back.

Covering his ears with his hands, a pained grimace on his face, Jack yells back, “Stop! Stop! My hearing is way more sensitive than anyone else here! Plus, you’re going too fast for me to even answer!”

Sebek begins yelling in a slightly reduced volume about how speed is of the essence and the last team lost because they ran out of time. The timer continues to tick away and Jacks yells over Sebek’s voice, “Our time’s almost out! Ask something!”

Sebek shouts, “Alright! Fine! Am I Lord Mal-” The timer’s ringing cuts him off.

The rest of the room dies laughing while Jack and Sebek start arguing and throwing couch cushions at each other.

Round 3: Epel 🍎 and Grim 🐱

Epel tapes the name to Grim’s ribbon (because the tape doesn’t stick very well to his fur) and then stands facing him. The rest of the group raise their eyebrows in mild surprise as everyone reads the name ‘Dire Crowley’ on the paper. Making sure Grim can’t hear, Ace starts a bet about whether or not he’ll be able to guess in time. You’re the only one to wager in favor of Grim.

Grim: Am I a member of the staff? Epel: Yes! Grim: Am I well dressed? Epel: Uhh... (He looks towards you and, making sure no one is looking, you slightly nod at Epel) Yes? Grim: Am I good at my job? Epel: (He looks at you again but this time the rest of the group are watching you like hawks) ...Yes?

Grim laughs and jokes, “Well if I’m good at my job, there’s no way I’m Crowley, right?” Grim sees the expression on Epel’s face and shouts, “Wait! Epel! Am I Crowley!?”

The timer rings and you collect your winnings from the bet as Grim yells at Epel that his opinion of the headmaster is too high.

Round 4: Ortho 🤖 and You 🦐

As you stand with your back to your friends, you hear Ortho grab a piece of paper from the box and then you feel him tape it on your back. You raise an eyebrow in fierce curiosity as you hear everyone burst out laughing behind you.

You: Am I a member of the staff? Ortho: No. You: Am I a vice housewarden? Ortho: No.

You silently celebrate because with those two questions, you realize you must be a housewarden. There are only five people you could be because Vil and Malleus have already been selected.

You quickly go through the list of remaining housewardens, leaving enough of a pause for Ortho to respond, and ask if you’re each one. Ortho responds ‘No’ to each question.

You pause with intense confusion, trying to remember if you’ve left a name off the list. While you’re thinking, the timer rings and you rip the paper off your back to read the answer.

Everyone else in the room falls to the floor with laughter as you read the piece of paper with your name on it. You smile and laugh along with your friends, feeling just how important you are to this close knit group of first years.

#request writing #twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst first years #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #ortho shroud #sebek zigvolt #twst grim #twst x reader #fluff and humor #bun-lapin écrit

[beangusu]

Please please please share your reinako fic recommendations! I absolutely adore all your art of them 💗

THANK U SO MUCH <3 AND OMG I HAVE SO MANY... u have unlocked my reinako fic floodgates but i will try to be normal and keep it to like 5-10 recs

just a warning, two of these have nsfw in them (In The Corner of Her Mind and Heartfelt Obligation) but are skippable, so if you’re like me and aren’t a fan of that then you can just skip the chapter!

In The Corner of Her Mind - this ones an oldie but i read it time and time again bc it breaks my heart in the BEST way possible especially since its set in the PGSM universe :'D if u want an amnesia reinako au fic, this one ticks all the boxes Point Not Taken - also a really old fic, but oh my god Victoria G's fics make me kick my feet and giggle and knowing they were a co-writer for the Carmilla web-series just makes so much sense bc i was obsessed with hollstein..... pls read their reinako fics they make me wanna throw up (affectionate) Through the Fire (Through Whatever, Come What May) - this one's not finished yet but the way the author writes the reinako dynamic is SO THEMMMM 🥰🥰 i adore when people write the reinako dynamic just right and this fic hits that spot for me red on my tongue (the red of your tongue) - i am so obsessed with fics that are abt present reinako finding out abt love affairs between silver millennium mars & venus which either cue their realization moment or push them to confess :3 this one has to be my fav out of all of YNK’s reinako fics, it made me tear up so bad at some parts like they are so Soulmates it makes me insane. pls read all of YNK's reinako fics after this i promise u wont regret it Heartfelt Obligation - ofc i had to link the mandatory princess/bodyguard au set in the silver millennium where they dislike each other at first but then slowly start catching feelings :33 it's incomplete but i love the silly banter and how they warm up to each other in this fic, its so cute 🥺 i like the burning sun (because i'm running with you) - small oneshot thats also so cute where they're just normal teens with crushes on each other,,, minako is so whipped for rei and rei is so stupid god bless

She's the tear in my heart, I'm on fire - the gay yearning in this one is so UNBELIEVEABLY off the charts it's so sweet and fills that slice of life highschool trope hole if u like that!! minako does get stoned in this one, not during the whole fic, but i figured i would warn anyways in case that makes anyone uncomfy Past Loves And Current Problems - ending this with this cute fic of minako finding out about greek mythology regarding mars and venus being lovers teehee ^_^ this fic also talks about ace's "curse" on venus from the codename sailor v manga AND I LOVE THAT i wish more fics talked abt that.... i have so so so many more i want to talk about and show everyone but i feel bad for this wall of text so i will leave that for a pt2/pt3 in the future mayb... i am filled with reinako brainrot and its never going away im so sorry u guys 💔

#imagine that image of a kitten thats like “full of soup” that's me except it says “full of reinako” #reinako #vio yells

[person4924]

new about me

my name is sam !! thats basically all u need to know but theres (a lot) more under the cut!!

im a lesbian (???) and ace

they/she (this is my pronouns page)

im probably genderfluid so u can really use any idc

i’m neurodivergent of some sort (i don’t even know anymore)

a minor (don’t be weird)

my personality type is INFP-T

my theme will change like weekly prob bc i wanna change it with every new huperfxation i have!!

things i like (the things bolder r what i talk about the most)

harry potter (fuck jkr)

marvel

the marauders

boy meets world

it

osemanverse

paper girls

teen wolf

owl house

shameless

glee

stranger things

friends

andi mack

the last of us (i’ve only watched the show tho, but i know most of what happens in the games)

riordanverse

musicals

poetry

reading

cats

animals

fictional characters

music

movies

tv shows

art

writing

women

sitcoms

brooklyn nine nine

new girl

hamilton

grishaverse

stand up comedians

ocean animals (specifically sharks)

community

moths (and just kinda winged bugs in general)

greek mythology

dawsons creek

bojack horseman

halloween

the sky (like stars, the moon, the sunset, etc)

jelly fish

criminal minds

animals

ted lasso

scooby doo (the older movies from the 2000’s ish specifically but all of it too)

everything sucks!

the sun bearer trials

atypical

octonauts

spencer reid

bo burnham

dead boy detectives

my fav movies are tick tick boom, my girl, dead poets society, breakfast club, the outsiders, hamilton, stand by me, cmbyn, lady bird, beautiful boy, luca, nimona, (500) days of summer etc.

musicals i like are hamilton, tick tick boom and the greatest showman

my fav taylor albums are folklore, evermore, reputation, 1989 and speak now but i love all of them really (please please ask me abt them omg)

my current hyper fixation is the marauders (more of a life-long obsession atp) and criminal minds and dead boy detectives. my soul is being torn apart.

i’m currently reading the extraordinaries

my fav music people (i’m really just giving a short list of many): conan gray, cavetown, current joys, queen, rainbow kitten surprise, the front bottoms, harry styles, noah kahan, taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, the fray, coldplay, olivia rodrigo, billie eilish, boygenius, gracie abrams, sufjan stevens, maya hawke, the smiths, lucy dacus, julien baker, the smiths, sleeping at last, mitski

i mostly post about whatever hyperfixation and/or character/person has overtaken my brain, music and analysis things

i appreciate tone tags and i try to use them as much as possible

i’m always looking to talk to more people and i’m always bored (don’t be weird istg)

my fav books are any alice oseman book, the outsiders, the perks of being a wallflower, i fell in love with hope

child of athena (i think) and a ravenclaw

biggest pandalily shipper you’ll find

i love love love making character analysis’ or song or movie or tv show or books or ships or whatever

i also write sometimes!! (i suck ass)

and i’m person4924 on ao3 but i can’t figure out how to link it

this is my spotify (i have the best music taste in the history of human kind btw)

this is my discord (in case of KOSA or if it’s just easier to talk on there)

this is my airbuds idk if anyone actually uses it but i thought it’d be fun to share music with mooties

please please please send me asks i have no hobbies or friends and im always bored please please please (im on my hands and knees begging please please please)

i have a tagging system!! idk how much ill remember to use it but yeah!! (its also new so only my new posts will have them) #sam shut the fuck up -> rants/yapping #asks!!! -> asks #polls!!! -> polls #crazy? i was crazy once... -> headcanons for characters/analyis things

#about me

[oxymorayuri]

HI YURII, i absolutely adore the way you write and i wanted to request some hc’s or a small fic abt law reaction to reader’s pregnancy, likeee how’d he react after telling him and how those 9 months would affect law’s personality and relationship w reader

but only if u want too ofc! thx and have a wonderful dayy <3

A/N: Hi there, my darling ♡

How can I refuse such a lovely request? I feel very honored every time you guys tell me that you enjoy my stories. My heart fills with pride when I read your kind comments.

OneShot or HC? Why not both? Two are better than one!

Here are the headcanons [Law|Ace|Kid|Doffy]

Okay, let's go! Have fun with the OneShot!

✦ Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader ✦ Content: idk, not much, i guess? I'm pretty bad at this lol. bit angst, a little jealousy and endless fluff ✦ Spoiler: none ✦ Description: You're pregnant and Law's reaction is everything you could wish for *-* This OneShot doesn't completely fit the request, hence the HC, hope that's okay :3

Wordcount: 6383

❝𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠!❞

It's quite unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but you woke up with an overwhelming craving for something sweet. Falling straight back to sleep is hopeless, so you're forced to stare around the room until perhaps drowsiness sets in.

Aside from the ticking of the clock, it's absolutely silent but you feel as if the ticking is becoming progressively louder 'til you have satisfied your ravenous appetite.

You picture it, the mousse that Ikkaku made… You have no clue how she makes it. You've tried to make it yourself, even following her recipe, but it's just not the same. However, when Ikkaku makes it, it tastes heavenly.

You can feel the foamy dessert melting on your tongue and the subtle hint of dark chocolate spreads through your mouth. Your saliva starts to gather in your mouth... That's enough! You need to eat dessert. Immediately!

The chance of waking Law is high, yet you would kill for a little midnight snack! The only thing is; you have to get out of Law's arms first...

You look at the dark haired man as he sleeps with a peaceful face. One arm around your waist, face to face.

On days like this, when you two haven't had much of each other, you'll at least have your little moments in your shared bed. With your faces turned towards each other, you talk about your busy day… Until one of you falls asleep and that one is usually you.

It's mostly you who talks about your day and Law hangs on your every word while you talk enthusiastically about all sorts of things.

Law is usually a bit reserved, because in his opinion he always does the same thing anyway and you must be getting bored of that. But that's not the case. You love the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the things he has learned from his book, or when he has got hold of a rare coin.. He always lights up like a little boy who's been at school for the first day.

[throwback]

“…And did you know that an adult's entire intestine is 5 to 7 meters long? Imagine that.” You raise your eyebrow in disbelief.

“Five to seven meters?! No way, how is that supposed to fit?” You stroke your stomach while Law laughs at your bewilderment. Of course you believe him, you believe anything he says. He could tell you every lie and you would believe it immediately, but luckily Law doesn't lie to you. He is sometimes very secretive towards you and keeps a lot to himself like a loner, but he is by no means a liar.

“No joke, you can believe me… I could show you if you like.” Law speaks with a confident self assurance that makes you snort.

His confused eyes look at you insistently and he repeats that he could show you while raising his hand.

“Room!” You immediately realize what he's up to and you reach out with both hands to stop him. He really is planning to show you his intestines. Ah, no thanks.

You shake your head, still chuckling.

“I always believe you, my love… It's just kind of hard to imagine…” - “Yes, I know... I could hardly believe it either. That's why I took my intestine out straight away and measured it.”

You can't take any more. Law speaks with a nonchalance that brings tears to your eyes. You love him for his strangeness, that's what makes him so human.

“Anything for science.” you whisper quietly to him.

No longer interested in how long the human intestine is, you lean over and give him a little kiss. Being with Law is always a learning experience, the special thing is what you learn about Law along the way. About his heart and mind, while he talks about all the things that fascinate him.

Gosh, you adore him so much.

[throwback end]

Law's slight movement snaps you out of your reverie and for a moment you have the chance to slip out of his arms.

Silent as a ninja, you sneak out of your room and scurry into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you can't wait another second and spoon up the dessert right in front of the fridge.

Whilst you let each scoop melt in your mouth, you hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. You try to hide, but it's too late because Bepo, who also wanted to sneak into the kitchen, enters.

You look at him like a frozen deer and he gives you a similar look. With your eyes still staring at the polar bear, you slowly bring the spoon to your mouth and devour the chocolate mousse. Without your eyes parting for even a second.

“What are you doing?” You leave the spoon in your mouth and look at him with a tilted head.

“Err, what does it look like…?” Your voice a little muffled, as if you were brushing your teeth. It's obvious what you're doing? With the bowl in your hand, you sit down at the table and wave the Mink over to you.

“Come on, get over here before the mousse is gone.” A little taken aback, he blinks a few times and joins you at the table.

Of course he wants some of the chocolate wonder, so he hurries to you.

You take turns spooning from your bowl and after each bite you hold your hand to your flushed cheek. It tastes simply divine.

However, you barely exchange a word, because it goes without saying that this meeting will remain a secret. You only hear a pleasurable moan and a soft mumble in between.

A few days have passed since then and a few other unusual things have happened. Your cravings have become a little weirder, your sense of smell has increased and fish suddenly no longer tastes good to you! As soon as you smelled sushi, you felt sick to your stomach. Unusual, you thought, but it could have been something else. You didn't think anything else of it and went about your everyday duties, quickly forgetting about the oddities anyway.

Until you got up one morning and ran straight to the toilet. You felt nauseous and it came out faster than you would have liked, so you left the door open and it gushed out of you straight into the toilet.

Your dinosaur like noises woke up the grouchy Law who rubbed his eyes in a drowsy state.

Who or what is that? And why is it so loud?

Law is definitely not a morning person. Talk to him before his coffee and you will see… Well, nothing will happen except that he ignores you and turns around. He won't even talk to you before he takes a sip, but no problem. Isn't it always like this; that a bright person is together with a grumpy one?

Tired, the black haired man sits up and runs his fingers through his tangled hair while still sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed.

The noise is unusually loud and seems as if it is directly in the next room… In the next room… And finally it clicks in his head. You are making that noise.

Law snaps his eyes open, being fully awake now, and hurried to the open bathroom. There he looked down at you with your head almost IN the bowl, unable to stop vomiting.

At first he stood in the doorway, looking somewhat at a loss, until he finally remembered that he was a doctor.

You weren't responsive right now anyway… So Law prepared a few things for you when you finally finished throwing up…

Concerned, he stands behind you with a glass of water in his hand. It seems to be reaaally bad. He doesn't like seeing you like this, your health is important to him, probably more important than his own.

You've noticed for a while that Law is standing behind you and you appreciate him not saying anything. You're not embarrassed, not in front of Law, he's taken care of you before when you've drunk yourself into a coma so the sight shouldn't be that strange. You had to smile a little when you noticed how he tied your hair in a ponytail, so it wouldn't fall in front of your face, while you emptied out your stomach.

“Oh god. There shouldn't be *bleurggh* anything left in my *bleurggh* stomach…” A little out of breath, you lean against the wall next to the toilet.

You're not quite sure if it's the end, but it feels all right.

“I assume it's a little better now?” Tired from throwing up, you look up at him while he hands you the glass of water with a scrutinizing look.

You can't do more than nod half heartedly.

Law walked over to the toilet and flushed the contents, which looked like two days' worth of stomach contents.

He squatted down to you and began to clean your face with a lukewarm cloth. You don't look sick. Your eyelids don't droop and your skin doesn't look too pale. You just look a little worn out, which is no wonder. After all, you've given the toilet the biggest serenade of your life.

“I should take you to the infirmary and run some tests.” His hands reach for yours. With his thumb, he gently strokes the back of your hand and pulls lightly to help you to your feet. A little wobbly on your feet, you hold on to him and smile weakly at him.

“…I'm fine, thank you my love.” A little cold water on your face should be enough, so you go over to the sink to freshen up.

“Don't argue y/n, as your captain and doctor, I'm telling you that I'll give you a check up.” You look at him through the mirror as you run your wet hands through your face and roll your eyes.

“Uh huh, as captain and doctor…”

he groans a little and takes you in his arms from behind

“And as your partner too, of course.”

He kisses you on the cheek and you lean into his embrace with a little chuckle. For just a moment, you can savor your embrace, but the very next second, you find yourself in the same position with him in the infirmary.

That whole shambling around doesn't do you any good at all, you were already feeling sick anyway and you always feel a bit dizzy when he teleports with you. You put your hand over your mouth but it's too late. You quickly rush to a garbage can and fill it with your vomit.

“Hah… Law, that wasn't so clever…” You lean on the bin with both hands as you kneel in front of it.

“Ah…uh…sorry, force of habit…” His words seem a little flustered and as you look over your shoulder you see him sheepishly stroke his beard.

Yep, force of habit… It's definitely not the first time he's teleported you somewhere. Whether he wanted to kidnap you in your busy routine or wanted to steal you away from annoying guys.

He can be a bit jealous sometimes, even if he doesn't say anything, you can see right through him. Honestly, you have to admit to yourself that you enjoy it perhaps a little too much. Law usually reacts rather passively, but at some point things start to get over his limit and he reacts, somewhat flashily…

[throwback]

It's a lovely afternoon on the Sunny, and before you went your separate ways, the Heart Pirates and the Straw Hats wanted to throw a nice party to celebrate your victory.

You had a good time together and formed strong friendships, it makes you a little sad that you won't see each other for a while… but you are sure that your paths will cross again soon.

You keep glancing back to where Law is drinking some sake with Zoro, while Usopp and Luffy were doing all sorts of silly things. You can't help giggling at the sight. Their conversations are also rather short, but somehow they both seem quite relaxed and enjoy the silence between them. Your sweet introvert…

You turn back to the ladies at the table and get into a conversation full of girl stuff and laughter. Right by your side, there's Bepo napping on the floor and while your chin rests in one hand, listening to Nami, you pat Bepo's head with the other.

At your service is none other than Sanji and he serves you with the most distinguished manners. You like Sanji, he is charming and knows how to talk to women and sometimes you allow yourself to have fun and go for it… You don't flirt back, no way! You're crazy about Law and everyone knows it, but you like to have a bit of fun.

“Here my beautiful ladies, I've allowed myself to prepare your favorite drinks.” With grace and style, he holds the tray in his hand and serves you some fresh drinks. He pushes a beautifully decorated cocktail glass in front of you, one with a light blue liquid, topped with whipped cream and blue glitter sprinkles.

You know exactly what kind of drink is in front of you and happily thank the Blondie. How thoughtful he is… he's made you your favorite drink; swimming pool!

You gleefully nip at the straw and let the refreshing drink run down your tongue. As you spoon down some of the cream, you notice that Sanji has used coconut milk ice cubes instead of water ice cubes. How creative! This way the drink doesn't get watered down and only gets creamier and that's exactly how you love your swimming pool - creamy!

“Aww Sanji, you're always so thoughtful and good to us!” With your eyes closed, you enjoy your drink. It's so well prepared that you can barely taste the alcohol; how dangerous.

With your hand on your cheek, you praise the cocktail. Nami gushes with you and sighs contentedly that this is her everyday life... and Sanji loves doing it! That's the best part.

“We're really lucky to have Sanji, aren't we?” Robin giggles, as Sanji loses his temper in a dramatic way. It's as if all the attention is making his heart leap through his chest, and on one knee he babbles something about how it's not just an honor to serve you, but his greatest joy.

He may be a little pushy but isn't he also a little funny? Your girl gang bursts out into laughter, oh dear, if you only knew how Law watches the spectacle from behind with an annoyed expression…

With his chin in his hand, Law taps his cheek a little impatiently with one finger. He can hit on whoever he wants, but does he always have to get so close to you? He's got Nami and Robin to ogle, but you're his!

He knows he doesn't have to be jealous. You're only being friendly to him, as you are to everyone, but the reaction of others is what annoys him. The fact that some people think you're flirting with them, when you're just very kind and approachable (yea guess who's not.) literally pisses Law off.

He is quite sure that no one but himself has a chance with you, in fact he knows that you can become quite different if someone crosses your line… If Law's line hasn't been crossed before… It's pretty different sometimes…

Like today for example, today Law doesn't have that much patience and since Sanji moves in your inner circle, his limits are crossed quite quickly. And maybe all that sake is also to blame.

Because of your lively conversation, you realize far too late, how Law has formed his blue dome over you and just as Nami remarks it, you find yourself already on Law's lap.

Bewildered, you look up at him while his gaze is somewhat serious on Sanji. When he felt your gaze on him, he looked you in the eye with his typical grin and spoke with an absolute calmness that made your heart flutter.

“You all right?” You widen your eyes a little and raise both eyebrows. Is he serious? As if it's such a normal thing to just teleport me onto his lap out of nowhere, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

You know exactly why he did it. You saw the look he gave Sanji, but okay, you just play along. Let's see what happens.

“Yes, of course. Do you need something, love?”

He comes a little closer to you, his gaze melts the ice in your drink because you're getting so hot, but you try not to show it and smile at him innocently.

Before he reaches for the straw, he looks provocatively over to Sanji and drinks from your cocktail.

“You talked so highly of it, I really wanted to try it too, you know?” - “Sure…” like hypnotized you watch him sip from your drink while his eyes rest on your lips.

“You've got some whipped cream on your lip…” you want to quickly wipe the cream away with your hand but Law holds it tight and speaks in a low mellow voice "no, let me..."

Barely a second later, his lips are already on yours and he licks the cream off your lips in a luscious kiss.

You didn't even realize what was happening to you as you sat frozen on his lap. You can only vaguely make out the annoyed murmur of Zoro telling you to get a room or Nami cheering joyfully. You slowly come back to your senses and lean close to his ear, to whisper a few sweet words…

“I love sweet kisses… how 'bout we continue on the Polar Tang?”

Honestly, you love the way Law steals you away. He doesn't do it in an aggressive way, but in a way that makes it clear who you belong to. He never confronts the others, he just shows how in love you are with each other.

If that's not territory marking then you don't know BUT you love it.

His reaction is as expected. You know that look all too well. There's something overwhelming about the way Law's beautiful eyes run over your face as you innocently bite your lip. You could swear his eyes darken and he runs his tongue over his lower lip with a grin.

His grip tightens and his laugh deepens so that you can feel the vibration of his voice.

“Good idea.” He places a small kiss on your cheek before saying goodbye to the others. The question marks are written all over your face. You really just wanted to tease him, but you could have guessed what is about to happen.

You barely managed to wave goodbye before you found yourself back in your room on the Polar Tang. And well, you know it's obvious what will happens next… ;)

[throwback end]

“All right, so far so good. Now just a small blood check and then we'll be on the safe side.” His words bring you out of your memory and you look at his back. At a small table, he prepares a syringe to take some of your blood.

With concentration, he turns around and traces along your arm to locate a suitable vein.

“Could you make a fist?” You do as he says and he nods in response. When he had found a suitable spot, you were allowed to relax your hand and he smoothly drew the blood into the tube.

You watch him in complete devotion as he looks attentively at the syringe. Your eyes meet for a moment before he quickly returns to his task and presses a band aid onto the needle mark.

“That's it.” Again, he turns away from you to dispose the materials properly. A little disappointed, you slide down with your butt from the stretcher. You wish you could have watched him a little longer. He always looks so handsome when he's fully concentrated on his work.

“When will the results be ready?” you ask curiously as you look over his shoulder. By now you're feeling much better, you're sure it's nothing serious.

“Give me a few hours and I should have something out.” - “Hardworking as ever.” You gently stroke his shoulder as you went to turn around and Law quickly reached for your hand.

He gently pulls you close to give you a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes always have a powerful effect on you and your cheeks turn a soft pink.

“We should go for breakfast, you should regain your energy. Go ahead, I'll clean up and come straight away.” Your heart softens at his care.

“I'll make us some coffee then.” Satisfied, he nods at you and lets go. In a good mood, you walk along the corridors of the cold Polar Tang, humming a bright melody.

The day went on as usual, the work on the Polar Tang was pure routine. A few small repairs here and inspections there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as you were about to leave the engine room to write your report, you bump into your friend.

“Heyyy y/n, already done with work?” You look up from your notes and have a chat with Ikkaku. After an waaay too short talk, you part ways as her beeper has gone off and she quickly went back to work. Apparently she has a lot to do... Your eyes go back to your list. You need to talk to Law, because you're slowly running out of materials for the maintenance of your submarine.

You've been underwater for quite a while now and you should be ascending soon. Ikkaku could probably use some materials too, maybe you should do a general inventory and make a supply list with Law. Just as you were about to turn around to go to Ikkaku to start with her, your beeper sounds.

A quick glance at your black device tells you that Law wants to talk to you, so you turn around again.

So, then you'll start the list tomorrow. After all, you'll be traveling for a few more days before you reach the next island...

You can't quite believe your ears and you stand in front of Law with your mouth open, completely frozen. Your pretty brain has to process this information first. You actually want to say something but don't quite know how to start the sentence.

“Y-you say I'm pregnant?!!!” You automatically reach for your belly.

“How could this happen?!” you look up at Law, unsure of how you should feel. To be honest, you're a little overwhelmed, but it's not actually a bad thing. You're actually at the age where it's appropriate, aren't you?

Law, who is leaning against his table in front of you, takes a breath to explain to you HOW this could have happened, in a physical and medical sense.

With knitted eyebrows, you shake your hand in front of Law in order to stop him. You know how, but somehow you're surprised. You often hear that the birth control failed here and there and the woman got pregnant, but somehow you think it would never happen to you and now it's happened to you.

Surprise, surprise.

You drop into a chair and look a little defeated.

“Shit…” you mutter. Law takes the results of your blood report and tries to change the subject.

“But hey, judging by your results, you're perfectly healthy and have the best possible condition for the baby." He turns the page to check a few more things.

“We should probably just get some more sun and fresh air for your wellbeing. Your vitamin D levels are a little low… No wonder down here…” In his head, he makes a mental note to talk to Bepo and Hakugan about surfacing today.

That sounds as if…

“Do you want me to keep the child?” You look up at him, a little surprised. A pleasant excitement spreads through your chest at the thought that Law will be the father of your child.

His eyes peek over the edge of the paper, looking down at you. He examines your glazed eyes, places the papers on the table and crouches down in front of you to be closer to you.

“Do you want to keep the child, y/n?” he notices that you're a little unsure, but that's okay. That's normal... but he will follow your final decision. No matter what you decide, he will stand by you and make sure you are both safe and happy.

Somehow it all feels surreal. You and Law are having a baby. That will change everything now, but you're longing to find out what it's like. You shrug your shoulders a little sheepishly.

“Uh-huh… kind of, yea.” Somewhat embarrassed, you smile at him. For you, getting together with Law has always been like hitting the jackpot, but you'd never thought about you two becoming parents.

But dear, if you only knew how Law sees you… He'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy about becoming a dad, but right now you're coming first, since you're feeling 'a little under the water'. [sorry but I couldn't help myself, lol]

“Well, I guess we have something to celebrate, don't we?“

Law's grin makes you smile. Somehow he always pushes the right buttons with you. With his charming looks, his cunning manner and clever little head, he always manages to mess with your feelings. You've never felt this way about anyone before and you weren't exactly a virgin before… Now that you're becoming parents, you feel like you're starting to really mature with Law.

“How are we going to tell them?” Parties are not his thing, you know that, but as soon as the others find out, they want to throw a party anyway.

He seems to be thinking deeply as he plays with your fingers.

“Maybe we'll just throw a party…” you look down at him in surprise, but he explains why.

“I know for a fact that we won't be able to avoid it…” a small giggle slips out of your mouth and you gently squeeze his hand, but Law breaks your eye contact.

“Well, I won't be able to get around it…” You're never against a fun party, but after an hour Law's social battery is usually drained and he disappears into his study.

“Not a bad idea, actually. If we plan the party, we can be sure that it won't be too chaotic. Let's keep it simple.” Law is pleased that you share the same thought. Well, it's probably because you can't party as hard as usual, but it doesn't make you sad. Somehow the joy slowly sets in.

Law gets up and pulls you up with him while you both hold hands. Without saying a word, he takes you in his arms and you breathe in his calming scent. At this very moment you just feel so good, even though you were so scattered until a few moments ago, you are sure that everything will work out with Law by your side.

You're kind of excited. The crew thinks you're throwing a party because you're resurfacing today and they believe that cheap lie, but what pirate crew needs a reason to throw a party? They probably don't give it a second thought and are happy to have food and booze under the sun.

In a good mood, you hum a little tune in the kitchen while you prepare a few treats in the kitchen. At some point, Shachi comes by and you tell him that he shouldn't be snacking, but he just laughs cheekily at you and stuffs a filled onigiri into your mouth. You hum contentedly as you taste the tuna cream.

“You're getting better and better y/n, the shape is a real triangle this time too!” you smack him on the back of the head and huff in offense.

He's used to it and your blows don't even really hurt so he just laughs as he rubs his head.

“I'm sure Law will be more than pleased.” Without a care in the world, he picks another treat from the little buffet you've set up and disappears into the corridor.

Your gaze rests on your bitten onigiri. You are secretly thrilled that he thinks Law will be happy. You wonder if he is looking forward to your current situation in general.

After you surfaced with the Polar Tang, Law and a few others set up the deck. Tables and benches were set up and you and Ikkaku hung up some hanging garlands to make it look more festive. After putting the finishing details on the final appearance, you put your hands on your hips in satisfaction while Law stepped to your side.

“They really don't suspect anything…” he whispers in your ear.

You just smile to yourself. After all, it just seems like you're having a party as usual. The buffet, the decorations, the festive lights and a small bar on the deck are just the same as usual.

Law doesn't know it, but you couldn't help yourself and had to tell Ikkaku about it immediately. After all, she's your best friend. You can definitely trust her not to spill the beans and it shouldn't be too difficult because you're throwing the party today anyway. She even offered to prepare a few desserts. With hearts in your eyes, you accepted her offer, of course.

All in all, it was an evening like any other with your crew. There was laughter, some dancing, a lot of goofing around and singing. Avoiding the alcohol was quite difficult, but luckily Ikkaku was your knight in shining armor. She always swapped your cup with hers, with only water inside, in an discreet fashion.

As the sunset glowed over your submarine and the atmosphere on deck calmed down allowing everyone to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, Law decided that now was the perfect time to spread the news.

He raised his glass and tapped it lightly with his fork so that everyone's attention was drawn to him by the clinking sound.

A few of the pirates look up at him in surprise. It's not that unusual for Law to make a speech from time to time, but there shouldn't be any special reason for him to make one today. Or maybe there is?

Glances go round among themselves. You smile knowingly to yourself as you watch the confusion on their faces.

“Sometimes there are unexpected twists and turns on our travels and sometimes it's the best thing that could have happened to us. In the end, everything always turned out well and that's only because we trusted and helped each other. We may be pirates, but we are also…” - “A FAMILY” Penguin and Sachi cry and shout in unison.

Law's words are unexpectedly touching. His words are always wise and uplifting… but this time he not only speaks from the heart, but with it and everyone is moved to the core.

You could cry because you know why he uses such beautiful words. With a satisfied grin, he agrees with the men.

“Exactly. We are a family and today y/n and I want to announce something to you.” Little by little, questioning glances wander to you and Law nods to you with an encouraging expression on his face. He now leaves you the honor of continuing.

“I'm pregnant!” you blurt out in a squeaky voice.

The looks go back and forth between you two in a rather funny way while the surprise is written all over everyone's face.

All of a sudden, the group erupts into a joyful roar and congratulations are given to you. Ikkaku can finally take you in her arms, her eyes overflowing with tears. A few of the men are shaking hands with Law while Bepo rushes up to Law and almost crushes him in a hug.

Your heart bursts as you watch the cheering crowd and stroke Ikkaku's back in a soothing manner as she utters some incomprehensible words of joy…

In the chaotic happiness, your and Law's eyes met. He seems as happy as you feel.

The atmosphere were already great before, but now it's just amazing.

They raise a toast to both of you and your little one, while Penguin and Shachi fight over which of them gets to listen and feel your belly first. You have to laugh at their goofiness, because there's not much of the typical pregnancy belly to be seen yet.

Bepo comes running towards you with cute beady eyes and gives you a warm embrace. He snuggles up to your head and you brush against his soft fur…

You hear his soft sniffle and in a low voice he whispers to you how happy he is for you guys.

“You're going to be great parents!” You wipe a small tear of joy from his face and pull yourself together so that you don't burst into tears yourself, but you're just too emotional. Your walls collapse and the tears roll down your cheeks.

The rest of the gang decides to come up to you and engages even Law in a huge group hug. It touches you more than anything how happy your friends are for you.

You can hardly wait to tell your friends the Straw Hats. You wonder how they will react. You secretly hope that it will be the reason you'll see each other sooner than you thought.

You really want to go shopping with Ikkaku, Robin and Nami for the baby!

You let the evening fade away together until at some point it was just you and Law.

The evening got a bit chilly and before you could even get cold, Law put his coat around you. Thanking him with a quiet smile, you can still see the joy on his face… And you? You can still hardly believe it. You're going to be parents… but you're still thinking about how Law really feels. He's obviously happy but you wish you could hear what he's thinking.

“Law, tell me, how do you feel?” Your eyes are fixed on the sea. You watch the glittering reflection of the moon in the water, while his gaze rests on you.

“I don't know. I kind of feel everything. Excitement, joy but also some fear.” Your gaze quickly goes up to him, but his eyes are now on the open sea.

The fact that he feels the same as you is somehow reassuring. You're a bit jealous of him for always keeping such a cool head, because unlike you, he seemed so calm and confident the whole time.

“You know y/n, when I went through the results today I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized why you were feeling bad.” With his arms leaning against the railing, he smiled down at you.

“I thought my heart stopped working and when it started beating again, a new feeling was born...” The glimmer in his eyes is as calming as a fire, that is about to fade out.

You are not used to so many touching words and your heart starts beating quicker with each word. The way he says everything is saved in your brain like a video and you dare not to speak a word.

He turns his upper body towards you and moves a little closer to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face. A little hesitantly, he begins to speak again, as if searching for the right words in your eyes.

“A feeling... that I thought I had long lost… The feeling of having a family.”

Okay y/n don't cry. Don't cry!

Law kisses your forehead as he wipes a tear from your face. The feeling of his warm lips disappears faster than you'd like, though, and Law takes a step back to get down on one knee.

With his gaze fixed on your eyes, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. You know what this means but you fail to move or say anything. Wide eyed, you follow Law's movements.

“I wanted to do this much earlier… but somehow I didn't find the right time… or maybe I was just waiting for this very moment?” Law isn't quite sure himself where he gets these words from, but so much has changed after today. He opens the box and your gaze falls on the sparkling ring.

“Y/n will you marry me?”

With quivering lips, you nod at him while tears flow like a waterfall and you throw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You usually have a lot to say, but this time Law has left you completely speechless.

You could have said yes a thousand times but it would never be enough to make it clear how much you want to be his wife.

A/N: Oh well… Law. I bet you'd be great as a dad.

I hope you enjoyed it ♡

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law #WE ARE GOING TO BE A MOM! #...i wish

[emeraldbabygirl]

nct - yuta, mark, ten, rennie, jisung, xiaojun, johnny, taeyong, hendery

monsta-x - hyungwon, chankyun

bts - suga, jungkook, taehyung, jin

pentagon - wooseok, yuta, shinwon

nu'est - ren

b1a4 - cnu

cnblue - jungshin

n.flying - jaehyun, chahun, dongsung, seunghyub

onlyoneof - junji, kb, yoojung

2pm - taecyeon, nickhun

got7 - jb, mark

lunafly - teo

shinee - key, taemin, onew, minho

winner - seunghoon, taehyun, jinwoo

ikon - bobby, donghyuk

dbsk - jaejoong, changmin, yoochun, junsu, yunho

exo - chanyeol, kris, tao, luhan, xiumin, lay, kai

infinite - dongwoo, sungyeol, sungjong

u-kiss - kevin, dongho, kiseop

dalmation - donglim

m.i.b - kangnam

mblaq - lee joon, mir

boyfriend - the jo twins

ss501 - kim hyun joong

ftisland - hongki, jaejin

uniq - yibo, seungyoun/woodz

b.a.p - yongguk, jongup

txt - beomgyu, huehue, yeonjun

seventeen - jun, jeonghan, the8, mingyu, vernon, woozi, joshua

beatwin - sunhyeok, yoonhoo

sf9 - hwiyoung, zuho, rowoon

lucente - parkha, z.hoo

a.c.e - donghun, jun, sehyoon

vixx - leo, hongbin, ken

teen top - niel, minsoo

knk - youjin

victon - seungwoo, hanse

1team- bc

omega x - xen

k.a.r.d - j.seph

stray kids - hyunjin, jisung, felix, i.n

day6 - youngk

super junior - leeteuk, eunhyuk, heechul, donghae

imfact - jian, lee sang, ungjae

block b - jaehyo, p.o, park kyung, zico

newkidd - hwi

cross gene - takuya

ateez - hongjoong, yeosang, seonghwa, mingi, wooyoung

big bang - gd

bonus: kim jae wook

bonus: kim woo bin

bonus: park bo gum

bonus: park hyo shin

myname - gunwoo, junq

m.pire - haru

topp dogg - atom, xero, sangdo, bjoo

14u - loudi

2z - hojin, jisub, bumjun, junghyun, zunon

alphabat - gamma

n.tic - jion

dkb - yuku, heechan, harry june

vav - ace

target - boun, oojin, g.i

wei - yoo yongha

kingdom - ivan, mujin

to1 - chanhyuk, donggeon

mcnd - win, huijin

ghost9 - shin, prince

e'last - romin, rano, wonhyuk, baekyuel, yejun

blitzers - chris, go_u

nik - parkha

megamax - iden, jaehun, jini

argon - kain

epex - baekseung, mu

b.i.g - heedo

mirae - lien

xdinary heroes - gaon, jooyeon, junhan, o.de

oneus - xion, leedo

onewe - cya, dongmyeong

cravity - minhee, serim

xeed - jaemin

bz boys - seunghyun

xodiac - beomsoo

the rampage - hokuto, kaisei, itsuki, takahide, ryu, riku, yamamoto

psychic fever - jimmy, weesa

ballistik boys - matsui, sunada

j soul brothers - hiroomi

fantastics - keita, yusei yagi

atlas - erwin, nice, muon

travis japan - noel, genta, umi

zero base 1 - ricky, jiwoong

7 men samurai - konpi, bana-san, rinne

treasure - haruto, junghwan, hyunsuk, jaehyuk

bang yedam

jo1 - shosei, kinjo

snow man - hikaru, fuka, daisuke, raul, date-sama, koji, ren

boys republic - sunwoo

kim woojin

lucas

justb - geonu

the rose - woosung, dojoon

fistbump - hyunwoo

sema - sema

ini - rihito, jun

bonus: maeda gouki

bonus: jun shison

ryuji sato

bonus: shuntaro yanagi

bonus: masataka kubota

bonus: kanta sato

bonus: akhisa shiono

bonus: yuki yamada

riize - wonbin

great guys - dongin

cix - bae jiyoung

4mix - ninja, folksong, george

xy - gai, p star, furutatsu, kanji, jay, karma, kairi, kyohey

miyavi

yoshiki

hyde

gazette - aoi, kai, uruha, ruki, reita

highlight - dongwoon

buck-tick - atsushi, hyde, yuta, imai

t1419 - gunwoo, leo, sian

btob - minhyuk

click b -minhyuk

younite - dey, eunho

orbit - ooon, youndong

d-crunch - minhyuk, jungseung, dylan

unvs - eunho

enhypen - sunghoon, jake

hihi jets - syoya igari

sugizo

dir en grey - toshiya

sug - takeru

yohio

golden bomber - kenji, yutaka, jun

bonus: kento yamazaki

bonus: dori sakurada

bonus: takumi saitoh

arashi - matsumoto jun, oguri shun

bonus: haruma miura

bonus: go ayano

bonus: hu xiaoling

bonus: mizushima hiro

kat-tun - jin akanishi

itagaki mizuki

8turn - myungho

wataru vasayegh

onf - j-us

p1harmony - intak, theo, soul, jongseob

bonus: zhang shuai bo

bonus: song jae rim

bonus: takenouchi yutaka

bonus: paing takhon

bonus: ryu jun yeol

bonus: hu yetao

wang lin kai

wow - daro yoon

jeff satur

the7 - woochul

mont - roda, narachan

xenex - uhyeong

dawn

dios - hyun

n.ssign - doha

trendz - havit

lun8 - chael

82major - seongil

hoppipolla - jeonghun

@witchy-weve-monbebe ok I wasn’t going to post it cause I know there’s more but this is all I have so far. I have no idea what to do with the list I wanted a visual guide lol but idk what to do with it hehe I have pics from Pinterest I can use but yeah idk

#kpop #jpop #j rock #tpop

[emyluwinter]

Yuu there's a girl here

When I get really crappy in my soul and heart, I become hyper sentimental and caring… My therapist in the past said that such an abundance of "love" from me is that I'm trying to compensate for what I didn't get in life.. Huh, if I ever have a partner or friend, they will definitely need a circle to swim in all this. ahahah.

During the break between lessons. Yuu's classmates and several other students from parallel classes are trying to find good "replicas" for the script in the film club. All five guys already felt a migraine from impotence. None of the options suited them. Because the Leader of the Pomfiore Dormitory was not so easy to please as the main director!

Mob from Diasomnia - Aaaaaargh!!It's all wrong!! How can you talk about unrequited love without mentioning someone specific?!It's not math.

The Octavinelle mob - is just a mockery, how can you write something we don't know about….

The guys' eyes immediately turn to Yu, who were peacefully sitting reading a book and writing some thoughts in a notebook. "Do you want help? ask Yuu, but at least feed her?"

-Hey!Yuu! Can you help us? - someone from the group asked, thinking that outside help and an uninvolved look might be useful.

-M?What is it about?

-Say any phrases that are suitable for unrequited love or falling in love! -Whatever comes into your head. We need to write a draft script!

Ace and Deuce, who were engaged in copying magic analysis from Yuu's homework, also pricked up their ears. They are also interested in what she will say. It was possible to make fun of it ~

-Oh…

After thinking for a while and putting the book on the desk, Yuu quietly begins to speak, slightly embarrassed, lowering his gaze.

-I would like to be a cup of tea in your hands…then I was able to satisfy my hunger for the touch of your elegant hands, quench my unquenchable thirst by drinking to the bottom the taste of your lips and immortalize in memory to leave a trace of your lipstick…

or..

I envy your bracelet on your wrist..After all, he touches your skin more than I will be able to feel her touch more than in my life.

or…

I envy your bracelet on your wrist, your pendant around your neck, because they catch every beat of your precious heart, and feel your breath.

........or oh!

No artist can pick up the shade that your eyes are gifted with. You want to plunge into them with your head, reach the bottom and not return to the call of reason on the surface

I would like to be a blanket for you, so that on cold days you don't freeze, and wrap your graceful body, the dream of any sculpture in something warm and cozy that would give you a full breath. And I could catch your every sleepy breath in that moment.

Yuu awkwardly rubs his cheek while looking at the group.It wasn't her style after all.

-Will something like this do?I know it sounds corny…

The group turned scarlet with embarrassment with each sentence of Yuu. And they barely had time to concentrate to write everything down word for word. One of the mobs asked directly in the forehead while not even hiding his red face and broken voice from nervousness.

-Hey. Yuu… what are you doing on Friday night?

Ace was definitely taken aback by such impudence, choked on air. As if he would let his cough best friendcough the person he hangs out with cough definitely not out of pitycough someone took it and broke she heart!!!

-Yuu is busy on Friday!!

-Oh, and what is Trappola?!

- Don't be impudent, boy!The fact that you stuck to the Prefect like a tick does not mean that Yuu cannot arrange his personal life!

-H U H ?!?

Meanwhile, Yuu, hearing their skirmish, chokes with laughter and quietly wheezes unable to restrain himself. Covering his face with a book so she wouldn't be noticed. These obnoxious boys are now fighting almost verbally because of her "stupid attempt"

Deuce becoming an unwitting witness - Yuu… it was very… um…

Yuu seeing that Deuce is struggling with his vocabulary to find the right word. She found it cute.

- Subtle transfer of feelings?

Deuce nodded vigorously in agreement. Yuu couldn't help but notice that his cheeks were ruddy too.

-Where did you learn this?Or…did someone tell you that?

The prefect just shrugs, turning over a page in the book

- Just said what she would like to hear herself…probably? Although I wonder why they didn't ask Rook for example…he would have come up with a whole volume of such replicas for them.

-I'm afraid they wouldn't have finished the script by next month.. ****

San - I think Yuu has a very sharp tongue for comments when she is finally allowed to insert at least a sentence.

Also, San. - Yu can surpass in flirting, only a Rook. Because Yuu can speak sincerely, say compliments and not worry about opening up. ***

One of the boys is annoyed - why didn't anyone think to just give the steering wheel to Rook or Yuu when this ghost bride took over the college?!Everything would have gone much faster.

- Because Rook wouldn't stop talking and he would be slapped in the face just so that he would finally shut up. And Yuu because she would have stolen Idia by climbing through the window and then asked Eliza to return their dorm. Appealing to pity that "the poor non-magical orphan will be thrown out into the street"

-And you're also asking why Yuu ended up in a school for villains…

Yuu in the background heard the conversation - Once again I say I did not intend to get here!!!I didn't steal someone else's coffin!!!

#twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst yuu #twsited wonderland #twst ace #twst deuce #Yuu needs to be well fed or treated with something delicious so that she can help #Yuu can eat very little. But this does not mean that she does not like delicious food #Sebek mentioned several times that Yuu eats very little even for an ordinary person.

[depraved-gf]

I think I've become obsessed with you- Im in an open relationship (my partners ace, I'm very much Not), and I've flirted with people but I've never become obsessed with a stranger I've never even talked to off Anon before- something about you just ticks every box, you're hot and gorgeous and the few times you talk about things that arent sex youre intelligent and funny, I don't know if I'll ever get the courage to come off anon, but I very much want you to know that youre so incredibly attractive, sexually and platonically, I don't understand how people can play with you without getting attached

Oh, bless youu :') I read this this morning right before work and I really needed to hear (read?) this. It genuinely means so much that I can be thought of so fondly in and especially out of kink. Even possibly obsessed over?? That's so fuckin' sweet omfggg. My lil heart 😭🖤

I rly rly hope we can talk more, u sweetpea!! <3

#ask repressedh0e #This made me feel a variety of things lol #Sweetpea anon<3 join our anon familyyyy #PS thank u for the honesty of the open relationship!

[kaizsche]

I DID IT

🌹🌹🌹

OHMYGOSH?!!!!!!!?!1?!! MASTER HELLO HI OMG I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! <3 (have u aced ur finals? i know u did---ok so idk what fic to give you omg... since i always spill my wips to u AAAAAAAAAA) anyways here's another angsty scene from yet another angsty fic inspired by the awesome, mindblowing, heartbreaking strange by celeste. (I AM 101% SURE I HAVENT SENT THIS ONE TO YOU YET... BUT IF I DID IM GONNA KICK MYSELF TO MUSTAFAR. LIKE FR.)

“Since the Salvatores can’t be trusted we decided to call another person to help you.”

Elena wasn’t so sure she could trust Caroline either. The only vampires they ever trusted were out of the equation. Considering Caroline’s nervous tick resurfacing—tapping her foot anxiously on the ground and the errant pounding of her heart like drums thrumming in her ear, Elena could tell that she won’t be happy in the least whoever Caroline invited to help her out. 

A pair of beating hearts could be heard outside. Caroline rushes to the door to alleviate the tension. Bonnie comes in first with a shy wave and a sheepish smile. 

“Come in, please.”

The smile falls from her lips. 

Elijah appears from behind Bonnie’s statued frame. “Hello again.”

“I don’t need to be taught,” Snaps Elena, her figure poised like an alarmed deer and hopes Caroline and Bonnie could sense her fury and vitriol. She had told them about Elijah from the beginning up until the end. They knew the wound he left behind, that deep scar that would not heal. How could they do this to her?

“Elena, please.” Caroline pleads, stopping her from ascending the stairs with her vampire speed. She hates it. Hates Elijah’s silence, the way he would look at her with pity and guilt. He does not deserve to feel guilty with what he did to her—what his sister did to her—what his inamorata did to Jeremy.

“No. I’d rather call Damon instead.” Elena smiles, a cruel smile like Katherine’s wishing it would haunt Elijah.

(After all, he left because he wasn’t so sure if he loves her because of Katherine.)

She sees the corner of his lip twist in a wry smile. Perhaps he did find her reaction funny. Guess that’s all she is now to him. A joke. Elena pauses at the hint of a feminine cologne wafting under her nose. She turns to him, hurt in her eyes yet he remained unfazed, unable to look at her face. 

“I don’t want to see your face here ever again. Do you hear me?”

(When the door clicks shut, she is horrified at the thought of wanting to flip her switch.)

She could hear him even with the door closed. Elena never hated being a vampire more than ever. Bonnie and Caroline are both apologetic, embarrassed even that such a girl like her, a doppelganger, a newly turned vampire turned down such an offer to be mentored by an Original like him. 

“It’s alright,” assures Elijah with that condescending tone. “I haven’t had high hopes for it if I’m to be honest.”

“Thanks, you know. For still trying.” Caroline winces.

“Of course. Have a wonderful night, ladies.” The door closes shut and the familiar rumble of Elijah’s car races out of Mystic Falls.

#elejah #elena x elijah #elijah x elena #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #inspired by strange by celeste #fic wip #kaizschewip #songfic #tvd fic #its such a pain writing them like this you dont know how i felt doing this #MASTERRRRRRRRR OHMYFUCKING GODDD I REALLY MISSED YOU YOU KNOW #i love u till the moon n back #and back to the moon and sun and stars idk #i hope you're well #<3333 #qvnthesia #writer asks

[coldercreation]

skdjaks im catching up on ur recent posts cuz ive been inactive on tumblr, and i came across the one where u and some ppl in the replies lament on loving the idea of relationships but never developing crushes rlly and finding it hard to date and whatnot, and damn i relate. i was gonna comment but i wanna stay anon for now, so i am in ur inbox instead huhu. but yh i deal w the same thing, ppl have had crushes on me before, but ive never once returned them? and like even if i find someone attractive as far as i know that doesn’t translate to wanting to bone… blech. i was talking to my friend abt this yesterday, and i was telling her that maybe ill try just going on dates and figure out how i tick?? general research has led me to id as demi after contemplating ace when i was like 13 so,,, who knows rlly. tldr i am similar and i get being confused abt it H

Ohh this is so interesting actually! Like, I genuinely wasn't expecting that so many of you would relate when I wrote that post??🤔 Obviously I knew that there's no way that I'm the only one on this whole planet, but still, seems a lot more common than what I had thought!

I'd like to think that it's very much okay to be confused by these kinds of things, no matter how frustrating it can also be. That's pretty much what I've been telling myself recently. Even if I'd like to find someone I really connect with and to have a relationship, there's no rush or need to force anything immediately just for the sake of it. Maybe it can even be fun to explore with time, and to figure out those things that will make us tick?

For me it's probably more about working on my social life in general than about anything else. Especially since the apps clearly don't do it for me and there's not really any other ways to meet new people. But I'm kinda feeling optimistic about it, mostly because I've been enjoying being social so much more lately!

Thank you for sharing love! This topic has been so interesting and I've enjoyed hearing everyone's experiences xx

///

Huge RAMBLE warning lmao:

I actually brought this topic up in therapy after we chatted about it here, kinda just theorised about it while trying to make sense of it all. My/our conclusion was that, for me, it could stem from ✨trauma✨ and needing a lot of time to truly open up/warm up to people (demi?/trust issues/hyper-independence). And since the societal norm is to often move a lot faster than that, I haven't even had the time to see the possible connection/spark/whatever in people, because they've already deducted, based on me having been very cautious and closed off, that I'm not interested, and so they moved on. Which in turn could've made me feel unwanted or uninteresting or unattractive or even abandoned, y'know? So I'd be left confused, feeling like there was something wrong and unattractive? about me, while also wondering why I'm never actually interested in anyone even though I've always longed for those deep connections with people.

Nowadays I've been feeling a lot lighter and... open? I guess, and I can genuinely see a change in the way people approach me? Or maybe they've always approached me the same way but I just wasn't able to be receptive to it🤔 Dunno! But there must've been some sort of micro-visible behavioural shift in me or something, because as soon as I have started to feel like I can and want to seek out people's company and I genuinely enjoy it, people are just... suddenly there? Whereas before there was this void?? Even when I tried to change that.

And despite me not having met anyone specific I'd be interested in dating, I have felt like I could actually do it now if the right person came along. (When I tried dating through apps years ago I felt like I was forcing it. It was very surface level and short lived, didn't feel... right?) And with that 'shift', or whatever it is that's changed in my behaviour??? I've literally been dodging date invites this past year like it's a sport???? Like tf?😭😂 This is mind boggling to someone who has for years thought that no one just gives a shit about me and there's something so unattractive about me that that's why no one shows any interest... But I think it really is a lot to do with some strange subtle messages that were given off? (and maybe also me leaving the house sometimes lmao....) I believe I wrote it in one of the more brainy stories as well, maybe CYE?, that if someone's whole body language, subconsciously or not, screams 'leave me the fuck alone', people are likely to leave them alone. And if we're not aware that that's the message we're giving off, it can very easily make us feel confused and like something's inherently wrong with us.

But then again, I don't think I would've been ready for anything like this a few years back, so perhaps the brains are smarter than we think and know that it takes time to heal. My therapist agreed that not having crushes could be due to so many things, but what I was saying did track to him. Slow to warm up/demi? + (social) anxiety + trauma are a hell of a combo when it comes to building new relationships. No matter why I'm not having crushes easily, he told me to take it easy on myself and to be understanding; after dealing with mental health crap and trauma for most of my life, it'd be very unreasonable to compare myself to the societal 'standards' or expect myself to do things in the same phase as other people are. Like, I had other shit to deal with growing up, so maybe I'm just now feeling like I'm ready to be myself, and it's okay to take things slow.

(And while writing that, speaking about people suddenly being there when before I felt like no matter what I tried, I was struggling to connect with people; I just got a thank you text from someone I helped at work when they were upset about something, and they said they'd love to see me (this one is in a friend way, not a date way) outside of work sometime as well :((((( is it weird if I cry lmaooo) xx

#apologies for possible incoherent writing hahaha #I word vomited but now feel too lazy to check if it makes any sense #SORRY ANON for using your ask to ramble :'O #I found this topic so interesting though #and figured maybe my therapy ramble could be insightful for someone else too when it comes to this #obviously this is very strongly tied to just my own experience #and to my interactions with my personal therapist #so keep that in mind #maybe you can relate to some of this #or none of this #that's okayyy #we all have our own journeys!<3 #Thank you anon again for sharing #and for everyone who's shared on this topic #xx