#get to 36 quicker

[beybaldes]

And somehow I know that you and I would've found each other

roy kent x gn!reader

word count : 8.7k

masterlist

summary : you and roy always end up finding your way back to each-other

content warning : taylor popped the fuck off with the speak now vault tracks especially timeless (another timeless fic coming out soon!!!!), slow burn that takes place over 36 years - dermatologists hate me! Roy’s sister is dubbed Molly yet again, I steal britanny brett for plot because I’m obsessed with @onceuponaoneshotfanfic and superstar (check it out now if you still haven’t, and if you have already, then reread it!!!!!!)

It's 1991 and youre not old enough to understand why your neighbour, and best friends older brother Roy, has to move away. You're only 4 years old, and so is Molly, and Roy's only 9 - so you're not sure why he's going away, where he's going, or if he's ever going to come back.

All you do know is that you and Molly's little arms are wrapped tightly around each other and you feel like it's never going to be enough to fill the hole of Roy's absence.

It's a cool September morning and Roy knows that December 19th - the day he gets to come back home for Christmas - is exactly 107 days away, but not even the last dregs of summers warmth can make this moment something he's going to look back fondly on.

He's got blankie folded perfectly at the bottom of his backpack and your favourite teddy bear wrapped up in it. Even though he wouldn't discover it until he'd arrived at Sunderland, you knew it was there and that Roy would look after it, and it made everything feel just a little bit better.

When Roy's Grandad announces that it's time to go, he gives you and Molly one last hug, pressing a kiss to both of your heads and promising to write and call whenever he can. You and Molly chase the car until the end of the street, where it turns a corner and Molly's mum calls you back to the house; you linger long enough to watch Roy turn from one of your best friends into a blurry figure in the back of a car.

Ms Kent gives you and Molly ice lolly's from the freezer and puts on 'Cinderella' while you eat them. She then sits through 'Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘The Little Mermaid', and 'Beauty and the Beast' with the two of you until your tears have long since stopped and you've fallen asleep in each others arms.

The following morning, Ms Kent nearly has a heart attack when she doesn't find you in Molly's bed, but her worry is soon ended when she realises the door to Roy's room is half opened and you're quietly curled up in tear stained sheets. Slowly, she wakes you up, and when fresh tears spring to your eyes she's quick to pull you into her arms. As she rocks you gently in her hold, she promises you that the prince always returns to the princess; even if it takes breaking a curse or waiting for 100 years.

They always find each-other in the end and live happily ever after.

And 107 days is nothing when you're 4 years old, it's the blink of an eye and sticky melted ice lolly on your hands, it's your first ever school uniform and glitter from Christmas crafts that you cant get off you no matter how many showers you take, and it goes by even quicker when Roy comes home 10 days sooner then expected.

You don't see him for the first 5 days. Roy locked himself away in his room and refused to come out or speak to anyone. But when the sixth day, and the weekend, finally rolls around, you decide to do something about it.

For a 9 year old, Roy sure had a lot to think about. He never got to say goodbye to his grandad, and he wasn't going to teach him how to ride a bike, or see him score his first professional goal, or get married, and he didn't know how to explain that when he went back to Sunderland come new year, he wasn't going away in the same capacity granddad had.

No 9 year old should've been thinking of all that.

Roy hadn't been expecting any visitors, not that he wanted any, but when you barged your way into his bedroom, he couldn't bring himself to send you away.

"Go away." Roy had growled, hidden beneath blankie and curled tightly into himself. "I want to be alone." Roy hadn't meant a lick of it and you hadn't believed any of it either.

"No, you don't." Though you had to wriggle your little self into his arms, you did it, and beamed proudly against his pyjama clad chest when he let you cuddle up to him. Roy had hugged you tightly, pulling you closer to him and wrapping blankie tightly around you both. "I missed you, Royo."

"You packed Dave in my bag." Roy stated, not asking why, or whether you wanted the teddy bear back, or telling you that he'd actually left it in Sunderland for when he went back in a few weeks time.

"You need him more then I do." Roy just nodded his head at your words, willing himself not to cry at the guilt he felt over leaving you and Molly behind and thinking about something other then his grandad. "And, if you have Dave, and Dave is mine, then you have to come and give him back to me. You have to come back from sundayland."

"Sunderland."

"What's that?" You tilted your head up to look at Roy, and found him already looking at you, half a smile on his lips.

"It's nothing."

Both you and Roy fell asleep in his room, under the safety of blankie, talking about 'sundayland' and everything good about his time there. It wasn't until tea time that his mum found the two of you and dragged you down stairs for dinner, teasing Roy once you'd gone home that you definitely had a little crush on him.

~*~

Roy's transfer to Chelsea once the season is over is announced just before your 16th birthday and you swear it's the best birthday present you've ever gotten. He's newly 21 and he's got this shaggy mullet thing going on that really shouldn't be working for him, but it is. You can't keep your eyes off of him, and Roy pretends not to notice for what he tells himself is your sake. He knows it isn't.

When his car pulls up in the drive for the first time since the weekend he came down for Mollys birthday, you and Molly run out of the house hand in hand to greet him, crying his name. He lets the two of you crash into him and wrap your arms tightly around him, almost squeezing him to death when he finds himself sandwiched between the two of you.

Roy's barely been on home soil for 10 seconds when Molly pulls away from the hug to look up at her big brother with the best puppy dog eyes she can muster up at 16. "Will you buy us drinks to take to leavers?”

"Fuck off, buy your own." You don't unwrap your arms from around Roy while they bicker, quite enjoying the familiarity of the scene before you. It was almost too long ago to fathom the last time Roy had been home long enough to start a fight with Molly, and though you never thought you'd say it, it was really nice to see.

"Incase you lost some brain cells this season, you have to be 18 to buy alcohol, fuckhead." Roy just stared blankly at Molly, and ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm as you stayed curled in his side, thinking about how similar Roy and Molly really are when it comes down to it. "So, I need you to buy it for us."

"Ask mum to buy it for you."

Molly immediately scoffs, throwing her hands in the air and muttering under her breath that she was genuinely concerned that Roy had lost some brain cells from all the headers he'd done this season. "Don't you think I tried that, dumbass? Mum said no to both of us."

Roy's gaze turned to meet yours, surprised to find you already looking at him. "Please Royo, everyone else will be drinking at leavers." Roy could never say no to you, and he was convinced both you and Molly knew that and had concocted this scheme to get him to buy it for you. He didn't mind saying yes, at least not this time, at least not when it was you asking.

Molly ran back into the house with an excited cry, promising to return with all the money she'd owe Roy for the drinks plus some as a charitable donation for his kindness.

For the first time in almost a year, you and Roy where completely alone together. He spared a moment to look at you, really look at you; notice how your hair had gotten longer and that your sense of style had completely changed, that the early summer sun was already tanning your skin and that you still had your arms around him. Roy only tightened his grip on you, dragging you into and around the house with him until you made it to the living room.

His mum had repainted since he'd last been down to visit from Sunderland and there were new photos on the wall behind the settee; mainly of you and Molly on your last day of school and one of Roy at his last match playing for Sunderland.

"You look like a proper footballer now, Royo." Despite every other seat in the living room being free, you took purchase on the arm of the chair right beside Roy and pray no one thinks it's a sign of the bubbling feelings you have for him. You may only be 16 but you're sure you've been in love with Roy for the better part of your life. It's one thing for everyone to tease you about you and Roy having little crushes on each other as kids, it's a whole other thing for people to tease you for having a crush on him when you actually did.

Roy scoffed, taking a long swig from the beer he'd grabbed from the kitchen when he first got to the house, swallowing down his smile. "But not enough for you to stop calling me 'Royo,' apparently."

"You could be the most famous footballer on the planet and I'd still call you Royo." You reached up for his hair and ruffled it, laughing at the way he pulled away from your touch and went to flatten his hair back out almost immediately. "But I mean it, you look like the kind of footballer kids have posters of up on their walls, that they want to be when they grow up."

And you're entirely right. Somewhere up in Manchester, a 6 year old Jamie Tartt is pinning a poster of your Roy up on his wall and promising himself, and his dad, that all of his time and money spent on football practice will one day pay off  - that he's going to be one of the greats, just like Roy Kent.

"You'll always be my Royo, Roy. Even when you're super famous and don't remember me anymore." Your hand had somehow found it's way back into Roy's hair and he couldn't bring himself to move away from your touch. Since his sudden rise to fame, in which it seemed like he'd become an overnight sensation, he couldn't remember when he was last touched so gently. Touching only to touch, not because they wanted something from him or his name.

Roy couldn't keep in the smile that pulled at his lips. It faltered slightly at the fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone genuinely, but it quickly returned and warmed his face when he meet your eyes. "And how could I ever forget the likes of you, yeah?"

Somewhere between shared words and glances, his hand had found yours and the two of you couldn't tear your eyes away from the other. "Dinners ready, guys." Molly was well known for her perfect timing, and despite some initial upset at the moment being taken from you, you knew it was for the better. Roy was Molly's brother, your best friends brother, who had 5 years on you yet.  Though you knew it was unlikely anything would ever happen between the two of you, moments like this made you think there was a small possibility something one day would. The thought wasn't one worth seriously entertaining. "Did I... interrupt something?"

"What? No way." You and Molly ran from the room hand in hand, giggles bubbling past your lips and exchanged, in hushed whispers, the conversation that Molly had just walked in on.

It was like Roy had never left as he followed the two of you into the dining room. He took his seat across the table from you like he always did and knocked his foot against yours every time he wanted your attention. Dinner was good and before he knew it you were half on top of him on the sofa, sneaking bites from his plate of dessert as everyone else partook in the worlds most heated game of Pictionary.

He gave a sharp nudge to your ribs when you stole the last bite but quickly soothed it over with the gentle drumming of his fingers against your skin. The pair of you talked in hushed tones for the rest of the evening about his transfer to Chelsea and everything he was looking forward to now that he was back in London, as well as all your plans for your super long summer before you started college in September.

It was only when Roy's mum turned to ask if you were going home or staying over that anyone had noticed the two of you cuddled up in the armchair in the corner of the room, both fast asleep. She didn't dare wake you, thankful to see her son at peace for the first time in what felt like years, instead placing a blanket over the two of you and ushering Molly up to bed despite her insistence that you come with her.

One day, she thought, the two of you would finally see yourselves in other people, realise that if love looks like that then the two of you must be in it, and with any luck she'd still be alive to see it. She knew Roy was stubborn enough to keep that from happening. Maybe he would't be this time; at least, not when it came to you.

~*~

When the rumours of Roy's relationship with Britanny Brett are confirmed by a quote she gives in an interview, he finds himself typing out an apology to you. He stares at his phone for 3 hours and the most he can type out is 'I didn't want you to find out like this, I'm sorry,' but he still doesn't send it. Roy's not entirely sure what he's apologising for.

It's the night before his 27th birthday and he's debating whether or not he should show up to the birthday dinner his mum has planned for him tomorrow. You'll be there. He knows it. But only because he knows that Molly dragged you back from uni with her just for the occasion. And for some reason that he can't quite place, or just doesn't want to yet, he feels bad about having to see your face and hear you talk about his girlfriend.

Although Brittany Brett is smoking hot, and they have really great sex, he's not sure he wants to take her home to meet his family. To meet you. Sure, she's a great footballers girlfriend, but he's a little worried about what the people who know him as just Roy will think of her.

When she appears on the other side of his door the morning of his 27th birthday, the first thing he says to her is 'you can't come to my birthday party' and he feels like he's 8 years old again and making mortal enemies in the playground at school. She doesn't acknowledge his comment, instead inviting herself in and making herself at home in Roy's living room, and he's never been more thankful for her 'too good for everyone' demeanour.

He drops her off at her house on the way over to his mums house later that evening. Roy decides he hates the way her perfume lingers in his car and has buried itself under his skin. He wants nothing more then for it to get away from him but there's still 20 minutes left of the drive and he knows the second you hear the car pull up you'll come running out the door and he won't have anytime to get the smell off of him.

When he pulls up on the doorstep of his childhood home 20 minutes later, only Molly comes running from the house to greet him. For a minute he thinks you haven't shown up to celebrate his birthday with him and he feels his heart break in two. He tells himself he doesn't know why. However, when he walks into the house and heads straight to the kitchen in search of a beer to calm his nerves, and help him forget about you, he finds you there, helping his mum with making his favourite dinner and a wide smile on your face.

You notice him lingering, shocked, in the doorway and pull him into your arms. There's less strength to your hold then he's used to but he feels grateful that you even want him in your arms after everything he's done. Now Roy really isn't sure why he's talking like that; like you've been hard done by from his relationship with Brittany Brett. To a degree he feels like he's cheated on you, but he can't have done because the two of you were never together. However, he doesn't let the thought linger, instead pulling you tighter against him and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Of course you'd be here, of course you would, but he finds himself holding onto you for a little longer then he probably should just to make sure you're really here and really staying.

Dinner is nice. It's a piece of simplicity he's missed every night since he was 9 years old and heading away to Sunderland for the first time. It's not often nowadays that he gets to eat dinner at a dining table surrounded by people he loves and who love him, so he relishes in every moment of it. He lets his hand brush against yours when he asks for the salt and he nudges your foot with his every-time he wants your attention. Being in this room, in this seat, with you, is like being 8 years old again and everything bad is yet to happen to him. Roy realises he likes the feeling of it more then he ever remembers.

No one brings up Brittany Brett, the way Roy smelt like her when you hugged him, the apology he never sent, or the way you cried in Molly and Ms Kent's arms when you found out he had a girlfriend. Dinner is peaceful and you and Roy share a slice of birthday cake on his Grandad's armchair, then fall asleep together there like he doesn't have a girlfriend and you don't have a broken heart.

His mum feels like she's got two children in her house and she wishes it would stay like this forever, as long as that meant Roy couldn't hurt your heart more then he already had. But Roy is stubborn, and she knows that. When she comes downstairs in the morning it's just you on the armchair with Roy's jacket over your shoulders like a blanket. You're hugging the material tightly against you as if it could ever replace Roy's presence, and even though you're still asleep, both of you know it won't.

When Roy sneaks out at 4am, the first thing he does is drive to Brittany Brett's house and breaks up with her. After all, there's no point being with someone when you know for a fact that you're in love with someone else.

~*~

Molly's dating this guy who doesn't let her speak to you, or Roy, or her own mum and you're scared for her life. In the two times you've managed to get a hold of her, you begged and pleaded with her to leave him. She's only 25 and so are you, you could run away together and start it all over and no one would know any different. Both times she said she wanted to be with him, that she loved him. All you want is your best friend back and for her to be safe, and rather selfishly, because you need her more then you've ever needed anyone.

Despite trying all day, you can't reach her, or her boyfriend, and you don't know who else to call. Ms Kent was the only real parental figure you'd had growing up, but it was pushing midnight and you didn't want to wake her up for the sake of your own comfort. Roy's number is below hers on your favourite contacts and you don't hesitate to ring it. You know he's got a match this weekend and practice tomorrow but you need someone and you have no one else to keep you from your own mind.

Roy's in some club in north London when his phone rings and his screen illuminates with your name and a picture of the two of you from last Christmas. It's one of the newcomers 21st birthday and he remembers being 21 and moving to Chelsea, moving back home, like it was yesterday. He's got 10 years on the kid who's just starting his career while he's going on aging out of it. It's almost enough to make him feel old.

He's quick to answer the phone, practically running out of the club to make sure he can hear you and he's already walking back to his car when he hears the suppressed sniffle to your voice. Roy can't see 100% past 9pm anymore so he doesn't drink when he goes out with the team, he knows it'll only make it worse, and for the first time ever, it's actually come in use.

It takes him 37 minutes exactly to drive from the club to your childhood home that's pressed brick by brick against his, and that's only because he made a pit stop to his own house on the way over. Every time he comes back here lately, it feels like some cruel trick of fate, that he can't have you but can have his entire life shaped by you.

He's banging his fist loudly against the door before he can take into consideration that your neighbours, one of which is his own mother, are likely asleep and wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up at this hour. When you open the door to a friendly face, you all but collapse into Roy's arms, already sobbing and heaving and trying to get the words out but not being able to do so. He scoops you up into his arms, years of intense football training allowing him to do it without second though, and carries you to your bedroom.

He placed you against the pillows and then kicks off his shoes, he definitely scuffed them up in the process but Roy couldn't seem to find the time to mind. Before you've managed to get a single word out Roy's stripped off the bulk of his suit, leaving him in just a shirt, boxers and socks. The image is kind of funny and if you weren't so devastated, you were sure you'd be laughing.

"What's wrong?" When Roy's hands gently wrap around your wrists to try and pull them away from your face and get a glance at you, you just start crying harder. "C'mon sweetheart, talk to me."

When he's met with more silence he pulls out his surprise weapon, a raggedy, old teddy bear, with matted fur that smells surprisingly like Roy. "Would it be easier to talk to Dave?" Finally your hands move away from your face to get a look at the teddy bear, not believing it's right in front of you when you know you haven't seen it since you were five yours old. It took a couple of minutes, lots of sniffling, and really willing yourself to say it, but eventually you did. Roy's arms around your and the soft touch of Dave's fur against your skin settling your nerves.

"My dad died this morning." Roy didn't hesitate to pull you into his lap, settling himself against your pillows as he brought you closer to him. "And I have no one to tell. Molly's boyfriend won't let her speak to me anymore, and I didn't want to burden your mum with it, and I just... I didn't know who to call or talk to and I know you were probably busy-"

"Hey, hey, don't. You did the right thing calling me. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah?" Both of Roy's hands are cradling your face, forcing you to look at him and really listen to what he wants to say. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

You shuffle in his lap, turning enough that you can bury your head in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Roy's warm and surprisingly comfy, but you reckon that's more so because the skin of his thighs are pressing into the skin of yours and you're sure it's the closest you've ever been to him. You try not to think about how you wouldn't mind being this close to him more often.

The rest of the night is spent with you in Roy's arms, his hand running up and down your back, his other hand cradling your face and wiping away each tear that spills over. He lets you ramble and ramble about everything on your mind with no regard for the fact he's got practice at 8am tomorrow. Even when you fall asleep in his arms, tears staining his brand new shirt, practice is the furthest thing from his mind, so much so that he doesn't even remember sending  Di Matteo the text saying he wasn't well and wouldn't be able to make practice in the morning.

Roy wakes up a long time before you, and he finds he has to practically drag himself away from you and the bed. When his eyes blink open he sees the sight he's spent the better part of his life waiting to see: you're in his arms, fast asleep, looking entirely peaceful and for a minute he can pretend that this is his life. While the haze of sleep has yet to fade, he can act like he wakes up to you every morning, that you love him like he loves you, and that, if he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and flashed him that bright beautiful smile of yours.

If he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and you would greet him with a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his face in return and not caring if it landed against his lips, cheek, or jaw, because you know you'll be able to kiss the other places whenever you like.

Roy pulls himself out of bed and drags his feet all the way to your kitchen where he cooks the two of you breakfast. Nothing about it is rushed - he knows that he has nowhere to be but here, with you. He knows you've woken up when he can hear the gentle padding of your feet against your bedroom floor. Roy hears you walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where you then cross the room to him, and wrap your arms around his waist. Dave is clutched in on of your hands and your head is pressed against the dimples of his shoulder blades, your other hand fiddling with the hem of the front of his T-shirt, so casually that any passer by would think this was routine. And even though it isn't, Roy takes the risk of placing his hand atop your own and lacing his fingers through yours. When he can feel you smile into his back, he thinks maybe he should've kissed you in the bedroom, that maybe you'd have liked it just as much as he would've.

~*~

It's another year after your dad died before Molly finds out. She doesn't show up to Christmas, or Easter, but she comes by one late spring afternoon when Ms Kent had invited you and Roy over for picky bits in the garden, with a bin bag full of her belongings and a black eye. If your hand wasn't holding Roy's so tightly you were sure he would've been right out of the door, driving off to find the prick and give him an even worse beating then he'd given his sister.

You pull Roy with you when you cross the garden to engulf Molly in a hug, both of you breaking down at the contact and apologies tumbling from both of your lips. Molly apologises for not being there when your dad died, and not attending the funeral, you force her to take back her apology while also shoving your own down her throat, apologising for not finding her, for not being there. The two of you only cry harder when Roy pulls the two of you, still hugging, into his embrace. It's warm and his hands are big and it makes you feel like you're a child again, and you suppose that in some ways you still are.

It takes almost half an hour for the two of you to calm down enough for any coherent words to get out, and the first ones that do is that Molly's pregnant and she needs somewhere to stay. Immediately you ask her to move in with you. It's perfect really, you're next door to her mum and you've got a room for her and for the baby (when it comes) now that your dads passed. Roy likes the idea even more; something about his three, soon to be four, favourite people being in one place taking his fancy.

The eight months between Molly showing back up and beautiful baby Phoebe being born seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The soft, warm, yellow paint of phoebes nursery smears your memories of those months; everything about it is caked in the glow of the summer you have when you're 5 years old and have no care in the world.

You and Molly are best friends again and it's like you never missed two years of each others lives; everything just falls right back into place. The two of you do everything together and you wouldn't have it any other way, even when everything includes being in the room with her and Ms Kent when she's giving birth.

Roy, unluckily, is the only one not invited into the room, and he spends almost 6 hours pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for some kind of an update on his sister and his niece. It's you that comes to give it to him. You're in blue scrubs that you pull off further with every step you take into the waiting room, running right into Roy's arms with the widest smile he's ever seen cross your face.

"She's beautiful, Roy. She's so beautiful." He just nods his head and allows you to take his hand and pull him in the direction of the room Molly and his mum are in. "I love her so much already and she's only been here for 5 minutes."

Roy understood what you meant as soon as he walked into the room. Molly was absolutely glowing, and cradling this tiny, tiny baby in her arms like she was terrified any movement at all might hurt her - she didn't even look like she was breathing less it hurt the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?" You whispered, nudging his foot with yours to gain his attention. "You won't break her, promise." You didn't give Roy the opportunity to answer, instead eagerly taking the baby off of Molly and walking over to Roy. His mum all but pushed him into one of the chairs they had in the room and lectured him on how to hold the baby correctly. Slowly, you lowered her into his arms, making sure he had a comfortable and safe grip on her before you removed your arms from the little Phoebe completely. "Isn't she amazing?"

Roy can already picture it and it's breaking his heart. You, and him, and a little baby wrapped in a blanket with eyes that don't yet know how to open. But, in the daydream he doesn't tell anyone about, you're holding the baby and his arms are around you, whispering how much he loves you into your ear and promising to do everything for that baby. Your baby. He doesn't yet know if a day like that is ever going to come; he'd have to get over himself first, and he doesn't see that happening anytime soon. For you, however, he just might try.

"Yeah, yeah she is."

Molly and little baby Phoebe have to stay in the hospital overnight, but can be discharged in the morning, and Molly doesn't let any of you stay with her. In fact, she demands the three of you head home and come back tomorrow, well rested to drive her and newborn Phoebe home.

The three of you pick up some chinese takeout on your way home and eat it around Ms Kent's dinner table. Molly's absence is so heavily felt that part of you feels thrust back in time to a year ago, when you didn't have any contact with her and didn't know if she was even alive, let alone okay. It shakes you to your core and you leave your dinner half eaten as you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to breathe. When you return to the table, you find that dinner has been cleared away, but Ms Kent is holding out a spoon for you, pointing you in the direction of the living room.

Roy's sat in his grandads armchair with the biggest bowl of ice cream you've ever seen and he opens up his arms to you when he feels you staring at him from the doorway. You didn't hesitate to sit with him, squished up in the seat that fit the both of you slightly better when you were kids, with Roy's arm around your shoulders. When you didn't take a large helping of ice cream for yourself, he nudged the bowl in your direction.

"When Molly came home, I'd get in bed with her each night." You whispered, only loud enough that Roy would be able to hear you. It felt embarrassing, to try and explain why you felt Molly's absence for one night so vastly, but you knew that if anyone would get it, it would be Roy. "For the first month or so, she'd ask me to stay with her, so she knew she wasn't alone and she was safe. So I did. And then one night she was like 'I don't need you in bed with me anymore, I think I'm okay now,' and I didn't know what to do." You stuck your spoon inside the ice-cream, stirring it around the bowl but never bringing the build up of vanilla on the spoon to your lips. "I got in bed that night and I couldn't sleep at all, so I went and knocked on her door and she was still awake. Told me she couldn't sleep either, and I got right back into bed with her." Tears pricked at your eyes and your spoon fell against the bowl. "I don't know what to do without Molly, Royo, I don't want to have to do without her again."

Roy quickly moved the half eaten bowl of ice cream to the coffee table, pulling you into him and cradling your head against his shoulder. "Molly's not going anywhere, babe, she'll be home in the morning. Everything's going to be okay."

Neither of you brought up how he called you babe, and his mum didn't bring up how you fell asleep cuddled up in the armchair like you did when you were kids. But when Roy brought Phoebe and Molly home the following morning, and Molly and Ms Kent had taken Phoebe upstairs to get her settled into her new home, he pulled you in for a hug.

"Told you so." He whispered in your ear, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. Then Roy grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers with his and pulling you up the stairs to join Phoebe in her new room. Dave was in his other hand and he continued to stand by you as you placed it in the crib with her, knowing that she needed Dave more then you or Roy did now.

All of you couldn't wait to watch this little girl grow up surrounded by people who loved her so, so much.

~*~

Roy gets transferred to Richmond just before Phoebe's 4th birthday and you tease him that he has a penchant for getting the best kinds of birthday present. He asks why you remember so clearly that his transfer to Chelsea 15 years ago was just before your 16th birthday, and you answer honestly that it was the only thing you'd wanted for your birthday that year - for Roy to be closer to home. You immediately get to tease him again as a blush coats his cheeks.

On his first day at Richmond, he gets you, Molly and Phoebe seats in the family box, says that they'll always be there if you ever want to come and watch him play, and you reply that you always watch him play.

"I've been playing professionally for half my life. Sunderland, Chelsea, and now Richmond. I've never seen you even glimpse at a football match."

You scoff immediately and Roy's slightly taken aback, you almost look angry at what he's saying and he doesn't know why because he's right. Not that it matters to him, but you just don't like football that much; he doesn't blame you or anything, each to their own, but he wishes you'd like it for him. "I've seen every game you've ever played."

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah, right." You turned to Roy, putting down the bag filled with Phoebe's first ever school uniform inside now that you'd made it back home. "I'm serious. I've watched every match you've ever played in. All of your games with Sunderland and Chelsea, and I'll watch all your games now that you're at Richmond." You turn to Roy with a tense crease in your brow and he's wishing he never brought it up. "You're important to me Roy, of course I'd watch every time you play."

"What's sundayland, babe?" Phoebe had ran into the living room when she'd heard the door go, excited that you and Roy returned home. Molly and you had called each other babe since you were teenagers, and Phoebe had taken to calling you babe over your actual name. It didn't help that Roy had let it slip a few time too, only reassuring her that she was calling you by the correct thing.

"It's nothing, pheeb's." You scooped the little blonde into your arms, resting her against your jutted out hip and beginning to wander through the house. "Where your mum? You need to try on your uniform."

"Can I give you a fashion show?" She asked, leaning her head against your shoulder in a way that had Roy thinking about the two of you with a kid again. He'd have to ask you out first, and with each year that passed, the possibility of him actually doing that seemed to get slimmer and slimmer.

"Of course you can, Pheeb's. Go get dressed. Me and your uncle Roy will wait in the living room."

You stuck to your word, watching every single match that Roy played in. Sometimes at Nelson road, sometimes with Molly and Phoebe, sometimes in Ms Kent's living room - but you always watched him play.

The first time Molly let you take Phoebe to Nelson road was as your birthday present the same year Phoebe turned 6. You'd been pleading all year for Molly to let you bring Phoebe along to a home game, and she finally caved - on the condition you kept her ear defenders on all night and left if it got too much for her. Phoebe loved every minute of the match, screamed her little heart out just for the sake of joining in, even if she didn't know what people were saying; You were certain her cry of 'uncle Roy' every time she saw him with the ball was the loudest in the stadium.

When the match was over, a man with glasses found you in the stands, introduced himself as 'Higgins,' handed you two family lanyards with Kent plastered all over them, and asked you to follow him. You're barely in the changing rooms when Phoebe lets go of your hand, crying Roy's name and interrupting a speak from that new, American coach that Roy had complained about.

"Phoebe!" The blonde didn't wait up for you, running right at Roy and knowing he'd catch her when she flung herself the remaining foot into his arms. "What did I tell you?"

"I didn't know grandad fancied himself a cradle robber." You'd heard enough complaints to know the dig at Roy was from Jamie Tartt, the season loan from Manchester City. "Surely, someone like you isn't married to someone like Roy."

The twinge of disgust that slipped from the mans mouth when he said Roy's name had your blood boiling. "Why? Would you rather me with the likes of you instead?"

Jamie stood in dumbfounded silence as you turned back to Roy, your face entirely brightening, and his presence being totally ignored for the rest of your stay in the lock room. He wasn't used to that. He was trying to compliment you, say you were way out of Roy's league - maybe even ask for your number - but you didn't even spare him a second glance. In fact, now that your eyes were back on him, he wasn't entirely sure you were ever going to look away from Roy again. It made sense when he thought about it in bed later that night, even though he teased the fuck out of Roy and sometimes plainly treated him like shit, Roy Kent was one of the greats. Even Jamie Tartt knew that, and had known it since he was 6 years old - of course he'd managed to score someone like you.

Murmurs of Roy Kent having a secret spouse and daughter had filled Nelson Road before you'd even left the building.

It wasn't that Roy didn't want to talk about you. If he had the opportunity, he'd scream about you from rooftops, but being a footballer was a very public affair and he loved his privacy. Almost as much as he loved you.

The dog track didn't think they'd ever see your face again, not when Roy had growled at them after he'd guided you and Phoebe out of the changing room. Unfortunately for them, they would, under the worst possible circumstances.

You'd been on the edge of your seat the whole match. Roy's been benched for the first time in what you're sure is his entire career and doesn't come on until the 60th minute and when he does, you swear he's on fire. He's playing better then he'd ever played before, running faster then he's ever ran in the past few years, and he's slide tackling Jamie Tartt and getting the ball away from the goal. People are screaming his name and so are you.

And then he's not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up, the cheers have died down, and everyone's waiting with baited breath while it's determined if they've just seen the end of Roy Kent's 30 year long career with their own eyes.

And then Roy gets up, and for a fleeting moment you think that maybe everything's okay, that Roy's okay, and he's going to carry on playing.

And then he's walking from the pitch, limping, and your sprinting from your seat in the family box and running up to the owners box. You don't have to say a word because Rebecca calls a member of security over to you, and asks with a kind smile for him to guide you down to the changing rooms.

You linger outside the door for about 5 seconds before you push it open. If you were anyone else, you'd were certain he would've yelled at you to get out, even though he didn't mean it, just for the sake of his image. But you weren't anyone else, you were you.

"I'm fine." You hadn't even made it fully into the room and Roy was already trying to make his pain seem less bad then it was. "I'm fine. Go watch the rest of the match. You might have to drive us back to yours though."

"Roy." He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit beside him on the bench. You slowly wrap your arm around his shoulders and tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to rest against your shoulder. "Don't. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah? You're important to me, let me be here for you."

Roy kisses you and you instantly realise you'd have waited 33 more years for it, if that meant it would happen.

His lips are chapped, and his beard is slightly scratchy, and he's already breathless before he even leans into it but you don't mind. You find that his lips slant against yours perfectly and he slides you closer against him on the bench, using the hand he'd placed on your hip to give it a squeeze, eliciting an gasp from you. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth but he pulls away before it can escalate.

You hope to anything listening that he wants to kiss you again, because you're sure he's ruined the touch of everyone else's lips against your skin for you.

"I've been in love with you since I was 5 years old." Roy pressed his lips back to yours in a quick succession of kisses and you're sure that thats a good sign.

"Since you were 5 years old?" He asks, nudging his nose against yours, pressing his lips firmly to yours when they brush slightly as he speaks. "Fuck, did we waste a lot of time."

~*~

Roy's been the manager of Richmond for the last 4 months and you're thankful that there's no football on over Christmas. You get Roy practically all to yourself for three weeks and it's the best feeling ever.

Phoebes still in school until the 22nd, and you live together at Roy's house, so there's no chance Molly will walk in on the two of you or his mum will hear you through the walls - meaning 90% of his first week off work is spent having sex on every surface in the house, in every position imaginable.

The second week off is the main bulk of Christmas. You pick Phoebe up from school on the 22nd and she has a sleep over at your house. The 23rd is spent curled up on your couch, with Phoebe sandwiched between the two of you, watching Christmas movies all day and stuffing your faces with popcorn and hot chocolate. Phoebe spends the night again, and then the three of you drive down to Ms Kent's house at lunchtime on the 24th. Molly comes home from work around 6pm and the 5 of spend the rest of the evening in the living room, watching 'love actually' and 'the polar express,' until it's time for bed. Even though you and Roy have been together for nearly 3 years now, you sleep in Molly's bed with her and Phoebe, reminiscing on the christmas's of your childhood and giggling over them until you fall asleep.

When christmas morning finally comes, you and Molly are the last awake, Phoebe jumping all over the two of you and demanding you get downstairs as soon as possible to see what Father Christmas has left for her. You let Phoebe drag you down stairs even though you're barely awake and you crawl into Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, at the first opportunity. He's already got a coffee made for you, just the way you like it, and a warm hand that he slips up the back of your tshirt to scratch gently against your skin as you watch Phoebe begin to open her mountain of presents.

"How many of these are from you?" You whisper, feeling Roy smile against your temple as you sip on your coffee, slowly waking up in his arms.

"Enough. They're not all for Pheeb's anyway." Roy picks you up enough to adjust your position in his lap, making it more comfortable for the both of you to sit and talk and watch presents getting opened. "Some for my mum, some for Molly, some for you."

"You're too kind to me, baby." You lean up enough to press a kiss to Roy's lips, ignoring the loud screech Phoebe lets out at the display of affection. "I got some stuff for you under there too, handsome."

"I don't see you under that tree, Father Christmas clearly mustn't have got my list." Even though you're not looking directly at Roy you can feel the smirk that is pulling at his lips.

Before you could comment on what that could possibly mean Phoebe was calling your name, sticking her hand out with a tiny, paper-wrapped box in her palm. "This one's for you, it says it's from uncle Roy!"

"For me, huh? Lets have a look then, shall we Pheeb's?" Phoebe abandoned her half opened pile of gifts to stand beside you, leaning over the arm of the arm chair and over your shoulder to get a prime look at the gift as you opened it. "Thank you, baby."

Roy pinched your hip teasingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he intently watched you carefully unfold the wrapping paper. "Open it first, you might not like it. I kept the receipt so... just say the word and we'll get it changed."

"It's from you, Royo, I'm sure I'll love it." You punctuated your words with a kiss to his lips, not realising just how much your words would ring true until you'd fully unwrapped the box; finding a navy blue, velvet ring box and tears in Ms Kent's eyes. "Roy..."

"I spent 36 years of my life not knowing you felt the same way about me as I felt about you." Roy took the box gently from your hold and opened it, taking the dainty and elegant ring from it and holding it between the two of you. "And I don't plan to waste another moment of my life without you by my side."

"Yes."

"Oi, you're supposed to let me fucking ask you first." A laugh bubbled past your lips despite the tears building in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

"Yes." Your hands found Roy's face before his could place the ring on your finger, pulling him into a hot and forceful kiss, tilting his head back with how much you leaned into it, into him. "Yes. Yes. Yes, please."

"You owe me £1, Uncle Roy."

Tears are shed and the rest of the gifts are opened. Christmas dinner goes by without a hitch, and before you know it the days nearly over and you find yourself in Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, with one bowl of dessert between the two of you, like so many times before. Ms Kent is sat across from the two of you with her own bowl of dessert and she looks like she wants to say something about it. She doesn't, but only because she knows, and she knows that you and Roy know. This day was a long time coming and she's over the moon that it's come in her lifetime.

Roy's love for you was stronger then any will he had to remain stubborn, and after a life time of waiting, he'd finally found his way to you, and she was sure he would find his way to you in every lifetime; even if it took 100 years or breaking a curse. Like she'd told you on that cool September morning, the prince always comes back, and they always live happily ever after. And she was sure the two of you were going to as well.

an : if you made this this far I love you!!! I hope you enjoyed another super long Roy fic, feel free to leave some feedback or what your favourite part of the story was, or even a request from my summer sleepover prompts!! Mwah <333

#beybaldes writes !! #ted lasso x reader #roy kent one shot #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine

[brightgoat]

Hello! Your green child au is super cool! So I have a question for it:

How did jolyne figure out pucci's plan?

Thank you! Sooo I'm not gonna draw any of this so I may as well type it out:

Pucci has indoctrinated Jolyne in on the Heaven Plan (obviously, omitting some details). In this AU, Pucci knows SOME of the requirements for the Heaven Plan even without Dio's Diary (which he was gonna get by having Jolyne lure in Jotaro and steal his memories, but he got,, distracted,,,)

He knows he needs 36 souls of sinners. Him and Jolyne have been collecting them (via DISCs), that's what he's trained her to use her Stand for, so feel free to imagine them in Stand battles and Stand-related hijinks.

He also knows that Dio's bone is the key to all this, and has revealed such to Jolyne (slowly ofc. after she probes and probes into his and Dio's past)

Once they've collected all the souls, the time has come to do their thing, and Jolyne is hyped to see what'll happen now. All Pucci needs now is Jotaro's memories for the rest of the instructions. But since he's grown... very distracted.... he holds off and tells Jolyne to... save it for later...

But Jolyne forges her own path, her own fate, and gravity pulls her to continue the plan, improvise if she needs to.

So she snatches the bone, snatches the DISCs (as she has before), combines them and it grows into... the green baby.

Normally you'd need the 14 phrases, but the baby recognizes Jolyne's birthmark and fate decides to skip a few steps ahead (that's the power of plot convenience and blood relation!), and before she knows it, Jolyne fuses with it.

Due to being of Joestar blood, Stone Free transforms much quicker than it otherwise would.

Jolyne, now combined with the green baby who in turn is an amalgamation of Jonathan and DIO, has some revelations about the priest's true intentions. And begins feeling a pull towards Heaven.

#green child au

[norrizzandpia]

Soo

Smut survey

On each question you can answer Oscar or Lando. You can choose both of them if you want obvi. And of course leave brief comment why do you think so

1. Who do you think can do several rounds at one night?

2. Who is more vocal in bed? Like moaning, grunting and complimenting

3. Who is better at giving oral?

4. Who is lasting longer at one round?

5. Who is showing more intimacy? Like kissing, looking into eyes while sex

6. Who is better at missionary?

7. Who is better at doggy?

8. Who is better when you're riding them?

9. Who is more likely suggest to make a sex-tape?

10. Who is more likely suggest you to invite his friend to spice up things?

11. Whom you would wake up with blowjob?

12. Who is more gentle during sex?

13. Who likes to give marks? (Hikeys)

14. Who likes to receive marks? (Scratched back and ass)

15. Who is more fun to have sex with? (Like sex with actual laugh)

16. Who is more likely suggest semi-public sex? (Like in WC at party)

17. Who is more into praising?

18. Who has longer dick?

19. Who has more thicker dick?

20. Who is more likely send nudes to you?

21. Who is more likely to cum early at your first sex?

22. Who is more dominant?

23. Who can fuck while standing?

24. Who is more like to cum at blowjob?

25. Who is more likely to give multiple orgasms?

26. Who is more likely do angry or post-fight sex?

27. Who is more into spanking and hair pulling? (Receiving)

28. Who prefer to cum inside?

29. Who is more trimmed and who has more pubic hair?

30. Who is most likely to cum in the same time with you?

31. Who has best hair to play with while making out?

32. Who has best lips to kiss?

33. Who has best broad shoulders?

34. Who has best strong back to scratch while sex?

35. Who has best (strong, veiny) arms? Biceps and triceps

36. Who has best pecs/chest with nipples to kiss?

37. Who has best abs to lick?

38. Who has best happy trail?

39. Who has best ass to squeeze?

40. Who has best tights to sit on?

41. Who is more into shower sex?

42. Who is more into morning sex?

43. Who is more into quickies?

44. Who is more into slow passionate sex?

45. Who is more into fingering?

46. Who is more into handjob (receiving)?

47. Who is more into cumming on you (back or stomach or etc)?

48. Who has vocal kink? (Likes to hear your pantings, moans and screams)

49. Who has praising kink? (Likes to hear compliments)

50. Who has is more into boobs, into ass, into pussy

51. Who wears boxers and who boxer briefs?

52. Who is more likely to be best lover?

Me at midnight in my room thinking through each of these questions bc im insane:

1. Lando fs. I think this one was a no brainer for me particularly because I feel like he has a lot of energy and just gives off the vibes of having better stamina

2. I think grunting and moaning would be more lando but compliments and whimpers would be more Oscar. I feel like this one is self explanatory idk like their personalities just match up with it.

3. Tbh i feel like it’s Oscar who is better at oral because i feel like he just gives off more attentiveness. Lando gives off player vibes which isn’t a bad thing but i feel like he wants to get to the main event of it all quicker while Oscar gives the vibes of being a man who takes things slow

4. I was going to say Oscar for some reason but then I changed to Lando because I feel like this man has A LOT of experience with being older and sleeping with more women (i assume obvi). I just feel like lando has built that kind of stamina if you get me

5. Oscar. Immediately. Oscar. I said in 3 that i think Oscar takes things slow and that pertains here. I think he’s more romantic, like soft dom aesthetic, while Lando is rougher, more degradation maybe

6. I feel like we all know who im going to say here lol. OSCAR. He just gives off soft sex vibes i can’t explain and i feel like he would be the type of guy to be like “look in my eyes while i fuck you” or “I want to see all of you while I fuck you” like he just wants to keep the genuine connection going

7. I think Lando is better at doggy. I just think, because I think he’s rougher, he’s the type of man to want things hard and fast, which doggy can add to that vibe

8. I think they’re both really good during ridding in their own aspects. I think Oscar’s touchy, going for the boobs and stuff, but I also think Lando is putting in the work too, pushing up into her while she rides him, ya know? I think they both bring positive things to the table for this question

9. I WAS GONNA SAY LANDO BUT ALSO I FEEL LIKE OSCAR COULD DO THIS TOO?? I feel like with the racing schedule and all the traveling they do, at some point, they’ll want a video of sex because sometimes they can’t call so they need a default if phone sex isn’t a thing. I could see this for both of them, yeah.

10. I’m thinking Lando for this one. Just because Lando seems to be a bit crazier than Oscar, partying more and more sociable, so he seems to be a bit more mischievous this way

11. I’m going to say both for blowjobs in the morning because the soft of the morning coupled with Oscar’s soft moans could be so so good, but also just blowjobs at any point with Lando seems… perfect 🤭

12. Oscar is for sure more gentle I think. Just the way he treats others, i don’t know. There’s something about him fr that just screams “Doing so well for me, baby… good girl, love” YA KNOW???

13. I think Lando likes to give more marks because he seems more protective and territorial over his friends and stuff. Like this man is fiercely protective over the people he loves. He would want people to know his girlfriend was his for sure. He’d be like “Crystal clear yet?” To a man hitting on his girl at the bar and then gesture to the dark marks on her neck

14. I think both Oscar and Lando like to receive those kinds of marks. Tbh i feel like it’s just a thing for men where they like to have physical evidence of how good they are in bed, how capable they are of pleasuring their partner

15. Awww I could see this with both but more so Lando because his laugh is so infectious that it would derail the whole operation fr. Like one small, not even funny joke, could turn into a fit of giggles with this man and im sure sex just adds to that. Plus Danny Ric has even said Lando is so easy to make laugh like sex with laughs just screams lando.

16. I actually think Oscar for this tbh. Oscar is very idgaf for one, but also he just seems like he’d be able to be quiet enough and exert enough energy into making sure his girlfriend is quiet enough for it to work. He’s also just fucking smart and logical, he’d think about a place to do it before figuring out the best possible location for successful, uninterrupted sex. Like Oscar just seems capable enough to think through every possible outcome

17. I think they both are, but I think Oscar praises more. I think Lando doesn’t have anything against praising but he would rather take the degradation route (i think its the mustache idk) while Oscar is just love drunk on his naked girlfriend

18. There are some pictures of Lando I’ve seen…. That suggest he’s a bit on the thicker side rather than length so im going to go Oscar on this one.

19. Lando. THE PICTURES IVE SEEN oh lawd like ive seen some where he’s walking, playing golf and such and you can just tell this man is thick.

20. LANDO WOULD SEND AN ABS PICK WITH HIM STROKING HIS DICK IN THE FRAME TOO I KNOW IT. I cannot describe why i wholeheartedly believe this but i feel it in my bones that lando would send his girlfriend a down-angle video of his abs with his hand pumping his dick at the bottom of the frame

21. Tbh i think lando would cum earlier during the first sexual encounter like he’s just consumed and overwhelmed by all the feelings so he just cums earlier. I still think his stamina is cray and he can go for multiple rounds but i think the first time he gets with his girl, he can’t last

22. I think Lando is more dominant in the relationship as a whole. I think they are both dominant in the bedroom but I think Lando is the most dominant because he would be more protective and manly throughout every part of the relationship.

23. Have yall seen Oscar’s arms…. Tbh BOTH of these men could fuck standing up. They have the strength in their arms and legs to hold some WEIGHT. Trust me on my delusions ppl, it’s both.

24. I think they both will like idek my gut j tells me its both

25. I think they both give multiple orgasms because, as ive said, they come across really attentive so providing multiple orgasms seems on brand plus they seem like the kind of men to base how fat their egos are on how well they can make a girl cum

26. LANDO! He’s just rougher in bed i know it so makeup sex might just be his favorite thing

27. I think they would both be into giving hair pulling and spanking (maybe spanking more so Lando) but I don’t think they would be that interested in receiving it

28. I think Oscar prefers to cum inside because i think one of the things that gets him off so much is the connection and the emotional feelings and cumming inside is such an intimate thing to do… i think he’d be all over it

29. Lando’s gotta have more hair. His hair grows so goddamn fast hello. Like that’s easy. Idk about Oscar tho, im thinking trimmed?

30. I think Oscar for this one. Again, i think it’s just the intimacy of it all. I think Lando would cum after.

31. LETS TALK ABOUT IT YEAH! Lando. I would love to sink my hands in that man’s curls asap like- i love Oscar’s hair but Lando’s hair seems so soft and there is so much of it like i just know tangling your fingers in it would be satisfying

32. I think they both do tbh like they both have relatively full lips (Oscar’s are a bit on the smaller side but he’s got that upturned lip thing going on)

33. CAN WE TALK ABOUT OSCARS BUILD PLZ because i feel like I BLINKED and this man had the sexiest build i have ever seen. His shoulders are exquisite.

34. I’m thinking Lando has a stronger back, more toned, just because… the pictures ive seen… yum.

35. Ok for veiny arms it’s gotta go to Lando BUT biceps??? Oscar owns biceps. His biceps. THE VIDEO OF HIM IN THE WHITE SHIRT PLZ TELL ME YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABT LIKE I NEARLY DIED

36. OOOOOO both. Lando’s pecs are so nice to look at him im so sorry that is so creepy but like his and Oscar’s pecs just look so scrumptious im so sorry god almighty

37. ….LANDO. Let’s talk about it right now. His abs are so defined and don’t get me wrong i think Oscar’s are really hot but Lando’s abs are just so toned and defined like you could lick up and down each ridge so well

38. Solely because of the fact he has thick dark hair and a lot of it, im going to say lando

39. OSCAR that man has some cake on him fr like he needs to drop the workout routine asap bc im trying to get a juicy ass like that for summer

40. I think my purpose in life was to actively seek out the Oscar thigh-riding fanfics on this app bc it’s all i ever do. If Lando wore shorts and sat down in them more often, im sure this answer would be different, but, from what ive seen, Oscar has some perfect thigh-riding thighs.

41. I think lando is such a shower sex guy BECAUSE he seems like the type to take such long showers. He just seems so into his appearance (in a good way) and wanting to be clean, come off stylish that his hygiene is up there for his priorities THEREFORE he’s no rookie when it comes to long showers so why not add sex into it?

42. Oscar seems more into morning sex because he seems to be more into the intimacy aspect. Like morning sex is so cosy and soft and romantic like this man is all three of those things

43. Lando fs he wants his girl wherever, whenever, for how ever long he can have her like he will have a quickie in the bathroom of his house while he’s on stream because he saw her wearing tight pajamas off screen

44. WE KNOW WHO IM GOING TO SAY FR it’s Oscar. No explanation.

45. I think Lando is because that man’s streams like he is always flexing and just into his arms/hands in general. He seems like he’s very much of a touchy person so he would be good with his hands i assume. Couple that with the need to please his girl, you’ve got fingering galore.

46. I feel like Oscar is into handjobs more. I just feel like lando is more the type to be like “on your knees, love… open that slutty mouth for me” and make it all dirty whereas Oscar’s mind hasn’t gotten that far yet

47. I think lando is man obsessed with cumming all over every body part of his girl. Like i just think he is so into marking her as his, he finally resorts to that small subconscious desire to cum all over her body.

48. Lando seems like a man who has a vocal kink. I think this goes with my idea that his ego is based on how well he can pleasure his girl so knowing, in the moment, what he’s doing is working, that would get him off too

49. I think they both do but lando more. I just think that like in the midst of his dominance, he would love to hear a small whisper from his girl as she rambles “you’re so pretty, lan… making me feel so good” but like don’t get me wrong Oscar would eat that up too, i just feel like lando would cum harder because of the small praise

50. Because I’m self-indulgent, I’m going to say lando is more into boobs as well as Oscar but i do also think lando is really into pussy and there is no reasoning behind any of that

51. I feel like lando wears the boxer briefs and Oscar wears the boxers. I just feel like landos a bit of a slut (endearing) so he’s like “let me where something skin tight” whereas Oscar is just trying to chill and be the most comfortable

52. I feel like they both are really good partners in their own aspects. Lando more of a rougher dom but prioritizes his girl still and Oscar softer as he just tries to exist in the moment with his girl

AND WE FINISHED! Lowkey lost myself in this hello like forgot that i do not know these men at all and have no basis for any of these reasonings i am so sorry lord

#lando smut #lando norris smut #oscar piastri smut

[alwaysfoggyqueen]

Hi! you can call me Gabs, Im just trying to lose weight asap and the only way I can do that for some reason is like this :D

pretty sure I have BED and i geniunelly wanna get healthier overall.. let me lose weight first.

I don't promote this in any way. I'm just a lickle girl whos girl blogging.

High weight related disease runs in my family, im scared shitless for me if I dont stop it now.

19yrs old

she/her

I have pretty lucky? fat distribution because even when I was 90kg, people never assumed so, but It might mean Itll take quicker for me to look sickly at a lower weight which im scared of. I want to be light.

I'm doing this for the

"Oh.. this jar is too tight can you open it for me?"

"My legs are tired can you carry me?"

"These trousers are too big, do you have a smaller size?"

Height: 169cm/ 5ft 6 1/2

Waist: 36 inches

28/02 - 33.5inches

16/03 - 31inches

Thighs: 23.5 inches

16/03 - 22inches

Arms: 13 inches.

16/03 - 11.5 inches

Hw: 101kg

Lw: 60kg (AT 12 YEARS BRO)

Cw: 75.4kg

Gw1: 80kg

Pre Gw2 schedule

79.0kg by 25.02 achieved 24.02

78.0kg by 01.03 achieved 25.02?? (tf)

Gw2: 76kg

Gw3: 74kg -> electric skipping rope

Gw4: 72kg -> Fitbit (by 21.04) (healthy bmi for everyone else lol)

Gw5: 70kg -> Corset (by 01.05)

Gw6: 68kg -> cute lingerie

Gw7: 66kg -> gym membership (healthy bmi for nhs)

Gw8: 64kg -> Go to a gaming convention

Gw9: 62kg -> Corset

Gw10: 60kg -> Shopping spree

ugw: we shall see.

Im also looking for ana buddies so if you wanna chat just hmu!

#ed without the sheeran #ed no sheeran #ana tricks #st4rv1ng #tw thinspi #ed behaviour tw #ana0rex1a #i will reach my ugw #anorexcya #ed dairy #light as a feather #tw ana rant #tw ana diary #tw ana trigger #tw ed but not sheeran

[captjprice]

So.. One of my main headcanons regarding the romantic life of 141 is that Gaz has a thing for older people. I don't know how but he seems like a guy who would enjoy that his partners are older, more experienced. So could you please write something that involves this? Like Gaz, the youngest in the task force so at least in his mid-to-late 20s, realizing that he fell for the older, badass f!reader, that is his commanding officer and in her late 30s to early 40. You can decide if it fluff, smut or something else 🫶

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader

Older

A/n : daddys home!!!!!!!!!

mentions: fluff, so so so sweet, age gap but not in a creepy way (gaz is 29 and reader is 36), gaz is smitten, down bad, boner mentioned. but no smut, soorry guys

Kyle knew it was bad, truly, he did. And it was too cliche for words as well, to fall for his commanding officer and act like a schoolboy any time you were around. He promised himself some time ago before he enlisted, that he wouldn't fall in love. At all costs, he wouldn't allow himself to do that in a place like that.

But the way you stood so confidently, barking orders at the new recruits that included him– He was hooked, weak, and oh so smitten. Kyle made sure you didn't notice, keeping it under wraps excellently as he assumed it'd just be one of those small crushes people got on their superiors. It wasn't anything serious, and it wouldnt turn serious either. But the thing that made him rethink the fleetingness of his feelings was the fact that you were oddly.. sweet in person. You still had that certain air to you, but softer. Kinder. A side of you that he saw more frequently after he ranked up.

''How's your training been going, Gaz?'' You ask, leaning over him as he sits in the common area. He jolts, not having expected you at first before turning to you with a soft grin. ''Just wonderful, ma'am. Better watch out for competition.'' Kyle teases, shifting. 

His remark makes you snort, crossing your arms. ''Oh, you wish.'' You walk over to the other side of the couch, sitting as you keep your gaze firmly on him. Fuck, he can feel himself getting nervous under your gaze.. ''You have been improving, though. Truly, well done.'' You smile. ''You're one of our most remarkable we have here..'' 

He's absolutely insane, he thinks, as he seems to notice your eyes flickering down to his lips as you compliment him. Surely you can't actually be flirting with him? Kyle laughs nervously, ''Thank you, ma'am. It's quite obvious who i've learned it from.'' Cheeky bastard. 

In a way, he thinks it was doomed to happen to him. Falling for someone.. older. More experienced. Due to his time in the military, he had– in his opinion– matured far quicker. It was no wonder he'd long for a partner who knew what they were doing, and didn't play around with him.  

The taboo of it is, somehow, attractive to him. Knowing he shouldn't, but doing it anyway. He was absolutely sure you were attracted to him too, or at least favored him over the others in the taskforce. You'd always order him to train with you, and if not you'd always be lingering nearby. But it was a certain training session that made it unable for him to hide his feelings anymore..

''Alright, again, get up.'' You barked, motioning for Kyle to stand after you'd knocked him down again on the mat. He obliged, standing and taking a fighting position. ''Anticipate my movements, love, don't focus too much on getting a hit in, yeah?'' You say with a nod, trying to encourage him.

He smiles softly at you, ''You should prepare yourself.'' He can't help but jab, blocking with his arm as you try and throw a punch at his head. You shake your head, grinning at his attitude. He tries hitting you himself, but you're faster, twisting his arm and kicking your leg against both of his. He stumbles, falling to the floor but trying to regain steadiness. He should know better, especially when you push him down and roll him over to straddle his lap, keeping him down on the mat. 

It's like something flips in his head as he looks up at you with a few pants, adjusting to rest on his forearms. You're grinning down at him, panting too as your thighs squeeze his middle. Kyle doesn't say anything, just keeps looking at you as he takes you in. Fuck.. ''You should get off,'' He mutters, feeling quite warm now that you're on top of him with nobody else in the room. ''But I won.'' You say with a cheeky grin, leaning back and brushing your hair aside. He looks away from you, his cheeks burning. Jesus, he can feel it, he wonders how long it'll take until you do. 

Well, not long, apparently, because after squirming on his lap for a few more seconds you can feel something rubbing against your ass. That definitely wasn't there bef– Oh. OH. You can feel your face heat up, because this definitely wasn't what you thought would've happened in this game of cat and mouse. He knows you know, and he's a flustered mess because of it. He's just about to blurt out an apology as you cut him off.

''My room. Ten minutes.''

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod smut #cod x you #cod x y/n #gaz x you #gaz x y/n

[riley-writes]

Damaged Goods (Dhawan!Master x GN!Reader)

Hi! It’s been soooo long. Grad school will be the death of me. Enjoy this fic that I wrote instead of studying for an exam I’ll take in less than 36 hours that determines whether I graduate or not. This was more fun though. Please excuse any typos I proofread this once and now I have to go study to prove that I can be a professional at hearing people's worst memories while helping them be okay

Dhawan!Master x GN!Reader

You’ve accepted your fate on a planet you don’t even know the name of after being left behind. The last person you expect to see is your ex-friend’s best enemy.

Notes: So reader is gender neutral but there’s a throwaway line that more aligns with the queer/trans experience, but could probably read as anyone who is an outsider or struggled to feel accepted. Enjoy babes!

Warnings: Reference to torture, brief SI language but no followthrough, angst, abandonment. The works.

This certainly wasn’t the way you’d expected to die. Well, that might not be exactly true. You had expected some kind of trouble that you and the fam got into would end in your demise, but foolishly you’d thought that maybe it would be quick.

This was not quick.

While on some godforsaken planet that you couldn’t remember the name of, the Doctor had managed to piss off another alien race, leading to you all fleeing to the TARDIS under heavy fire. And only you hadn’t made it on time.

At first, you’d been confident that the Doctor would come back and rescue you. But the first day passed, and then the second, and then the third, and then before you knew it, you’d been being tortured for… well, you didn’t know anymore. Hard to keep track when you have no clue how long you’ve been passed out for after getting the shit beaten out of you for not knowing where the Doctor had run off to. 

You weren’t really sure when you’d started resenting her for it–for leaving you behind. She and the fam had taken you in when no one else was there for you, when no one would accept you for who you were. You had no one back on Earth. And now you had no one period. It hurt. To be left behind and forgotten like a toy that had been broken and discarded.

And that’s what you were. Broken. You’d held onto your spirit for so long, but as you heard the barred door down the hall swing open, you realized that you just wanted it all to end. You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You didn’t look up as the door to your cell opened and someone was shoved to the ground, followed by the door slamming shut and locking once more.

“Oh come on boys, it was all in good fun!” said a familiar voice, causing your blood to run cold. You snuck a quick glance, and confirmed– yes, the Master had just been thrown into your cell. Unfortunately, your movement didn’t go unnoticed, and his head snapped in your direction. You quickly diverted your eyes, but the damage was done. You heard him tut and wander towards you, and your entire body tensed. 

“Now what is one of the Doctor’s little pets doing in a place like this? Lost, love?” he asked cruelly. You didn’t respond or look up, still curled in on yourself. He stepped closer and your body got impossibly more tense. Your lack of response encouraged him. “Waiting on your precious Doctor to come and save you?”

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet scoff at that, which egged him on further. “How long has she left you here to rot?” He made an irritated sound when you didn’t respond. “I asked you a ques–,” you saw him reaching for you.

“Don’t touch me!” you shouted, vaulting yourself away from him across the cell. You could feel yourself start to hyperventilate, breaths coming quicker and quicker. Yep, this was it. You were dying. The Master was frozen in place, an unreadable look on his face.

The only sound was your quick breathing. He took a step forward, and you pushed yourself into the corner as far as you could.

“Don’t…” you sobbed, terrified. The Master held his hands up and took another step forward as if he were approaching a wild animal. “Please,” you whispered.” He hesitated.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said after a moment. There was some emotion on his face that you couldn’t quite place– though that was reasonable, being that you hadn’t been in contact with anyone that had shown you anything but disgust and anger. Still, you didn’t relax.

“You need to breathe or you’re going to pass out. You humans are pathetic like that, only having one respiratory system,” he said with jest, and you let out a short laugh in shock. He took this as a good sign, because he slowly approached and knelt down next to you. He seemed to not quite know what to do, but settled on a gentle hand on your back as you steadied your breathing.

“Now. I’m going to go destroy every other being on this planet, and then we’ll leave. Consider this my good deed of this regeneration. Can’t be ruining my reputation now, can I?” he said quietly. You looked up in surprise, and were met with an intense gaze. You nodded, throwing your trust to someone who’d never shown you anything but disdain up until this moment. What did you have to lose?

And as you got on the Master’s TARDIS, you couldn’t help but wonder what life had in store for you next.

#dhawan!master #doctor who #dhawan!master x reader #gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #please tell me I did a good job #did I do a good job? #the master x reader

[muserepeats]

29 or 36 for fexi? Maybe the first time they call each other baby or another pet name???

Or 36 would kill me

Your writing is so incredible. And you write them so in love with each other, I am melting and get all emotional 😩🥹. and also hot and bothered because the smut is top tier too! We are blessed 💖

Thank you for the kind words! It really means a lot to read them. (And again, apologies for not responding sooner. Soft prompt post here in case anyone is curious.) Here is #29, from a new crossover fic (promised long ago) that I've started and hope to share next year. 🏈 😉✨

Lexi hears the buzz of her cell phone on the bedside table. It’s not a surprise to be interrupted by a phone call at this hour, but the excitement never fades. She knows as soon as she drops her book, reaches for the device beside her, and turns the screen towards her, Lexi will see his name. Every night it’s the same.

The flutter in her chest was unfamiliar that first time he called her, after the New Year’s Eve party and her brave trip to the convenience store and a few days of texting. Now, nearly 8 months later, the feeling is reliable, his calls are expected, but her heart races just the same. It’s enough to make her pause before answering, to remind herself that this is the feeling she’s been dreaming of her entire life. 

“Hey, Fezco,” she says through a blush and an uncontrollable smile. 

“Hey, Lex. How you doin?” His familiar drawl in her ear is a balm for every bad memory, every moment of self doubt. Finally, she has someone to count on.

“I’m good, even better now.” Lexi steals a glance over at her sister, who responds with an annoyed glare.  The sight of Cassie pushing herself off the bed with a huff is something she enjoys a little more than she should. Lexi tries to ignore the distraction and focus on the voice on the other end of the line.

These days, Cass has mastered the mix of a disgusted scowl and frustrated sigh, complemented by an almost imperceptible eye roll. Just a year ago, the tables were completely turned. It was Lexi sitting across the room, trying to concentrate on her Algebra 2 problem set as her sister cooed some saccharine nonsense into the phone. 

"How was your day?" she continues with a grin. Cassie stalks over to the door, her feet landed loudly the carpet in a dramatic display of revulsion.

"Alright," he says through a sigh. "Like you said, s'even better now. Kinda spent most of it missin' you, baby."

The door snaps shut and, despite her sister’s obvious jealousy over someone, anyone, making Lexi the center of their world, there’s only one thought rushing through her mind. He called me baby.

Her teeth gnawing at the center of her cheek are just one challenge to finding a response. There's also the rush of adrenaline in her belly, and the flush of heat on her cheeks, and an undeniable tingling sensation between her legs. She has to remember to breath.

“Sorry, ion’ mean to be derogatory,” Fez blurts, a quicker cadence than his typical slow pace. “I guess we talked about a lotta things, but we ain’t talk about me callin’ you that…”

He was right — they had talked about a lot of things, especially since school started and he had fully settled into life at the Taylor’s house. They talked about what happened that night, right before the play. They talked about the feelings that Lexi felt, ad nauseum, through each act of said play as that saved seat meant for him sat empty. They talked about Ash, and they talked about the hospital. They talked, more frequently, about what happened at school or practice or rehearsal that day. And, just last weekend, they talked about their relationship status. A relationship status that definitely made it appropriate for him to call her baby.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles softly, responding just as he trails off. “I like it. You can say it again.” 

The soft grumble of his voice continues, "Baby, baby, baby." There's a hint of teasing in the word, but she knows he savors speaking it as much as she loves hearing it. Lexi chuckles and flops herself onto her back and stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on her ceiling. "Like that?" he goads, his voice turning more suggestive.

"Yeah, like that," she says, her cheeks pained from a wide smile. There's a very good chance that his expression matches hers on the other side of town. She thinks to return the gesture, call him baby, too. But it doesn't feel quite right. Maybe they don't need pet names, but she's waited long enough for this relationship to blossom into something real, something more tactile than the bounds of her imagination. Lexi wants all the silly little clichés of a high school romance, and she wants Fez to have them too.

He clears his throat to break the long beat of silence, and a rush of bravery allows Lexi to ask the question on her mind. "And what should I call you?"

#fexi #soft prompts #fexi forever #wink wink

[luvfae]

Prompt 36!! With the my favorite Henderson series <3 maybe just angst of y/n thinking eddie is fucking with chrissy

MY FAVOURITE

HENDERSON

PART TWENTY THREE

fandom: stranger things

parings: eddie x f henderson reader

warnings: swearing, mention of sex, accusations of cheating, crying, angst, mention of drug use

note: i literally completely forgot to include the prompt but i can’t for the life of me find out where to slot it in sorry 😳

masterlist

Word spread like wildfire around Hawkins High School and by Tuesday morning your friends were bombarding you with questions.

“Are the rumours true?” Your friend, Tara asked, standing with you by your locker. Your other friends Chrissy and Carl standing next to her. “Are you really dating that freak?”

“Tara!” Chrissy exclaimed. Tara rolled her eyes, glancing between you and Chrissy.

“Don’t call him a freak,” you hissed, slamming your locker shut and walking away.

Your three friends walked after you. “So it is true then?” Tara asked, laughing hysterically. “That is just comical, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you snapped at her, death glaring the girl that you had known since freshman year.

“You’re the one making a fool of yourself,” Tara said. “Wait until Abigail finds out, she’ll kick you out of cheer squad quicker than you can do a cartwheel.”

“God, just be quiet, Tara,” you said.

The bell rang and finally Tara parted ways from you, her and Carl heading into their class while you stayed with Chrissy, heading towards yours.

“So it’s true? You’re really dating Eddie?” Chrissy asked.

“Yes, i’m dating Eddie,” you replied, rolling your eyes at her. “And honestly I don’t care about what you have to say Chrissy, it’s not like you can talk anyway, dating Jason after you watched him drool over me for years.”

“Woah, calm down, Y/N,” Chrissy groaned. “I wasn’t going to say anything…”

“Sorry,” you muttered, sighing.

“He sells drugs, right?” Chrissy asked.

You looked over at her sheepishly. “Yeah,” you replied.

“Aren’t you like worried?” She asked.

“Not really,” you shrugged, sitting down as the lesson began, the topic being dropped.

-

You were rather flabbergasted when later that afternoon you discovered that Chrissy was meeting up with Eddie to buy drugs.

Did she really want to buy drugs or did she have an agenda?

Because you knew Chrissy, she was your best friend, one of the only people you hung out with that were real. And because you knew her so well you also knew that her sweet girl facade could easily switch into an evil agenda.

You trusted her with a lot of things, but your boyfriend wasn’t on that list.

“Babe, i’m being serious,” Eddie said. “I wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole.”

“And I trust you but I don’t trust her,” you replied, hurrying to keep up with him as he walked to his van.

“Isn’t she your friend?”

“That doesn’t mean I trust her, I mean would you trust all of your friends if they were alone in the woods with me?” You asked.

Eddie hummed, opening the passenger door for you. “Fair point,” he said as you hopped in. It didn’t take long for him to get into the driver seat.

“I’m coming with you,” you said as he began to drive.

“Y/N, no. It’s a drug deal, I don’t want you anywhere near it,” Eddie said. “It can go south quickly and if it does I don’t want to be worrying about you.”

“I’ll sit in the car,” you said. Eddie looked over at you, sheepishly. “I promise.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head. “Fine, but if you even think about getting out of this van there’s gunna be trouble,” he said.

“Ohh,” you smiled, glancing over at him. “You’ve got me all curious now, I might just get myself into trouble,” you teased. Eddie rolled his eyes at you. “What’re you gunna do to me? Spank me and tell me i’ve been a bad girl?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Stop talking,” Eddie groaned, pulling up at the forest. “I’ll cut you a deal, you keep your cute little butt in that seat and i’ll fuck your brains out when we get home, ‘kay?”

So you stayed put, sitting anxiously in the front seat, leg bouncing. As much as you wanted to run out of Eddie’s van and see what was going on, you also wanted to be fucked.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to return, a serious look on his face as he entered the car. His eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of you.

“So, what did she want?” You asked, staring at him expectantly.

“Weed,” he shrugged. “Just like I told you.”

You hummed, smiling at him. “I think i’m owed something for staying in this van like you asked,” you said.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I always pay up.”

-

It went on for weeks, Eddie meeting up with Chrissy to sell her weed and at first you weren’t concerned. Until she started meeting up at his trailer and meeting up at his trailer led to smoking sessions together. You were bitter and jealous, but most of all pissed, when you found out.

And of course you had to find out by walking in on them smoking one afternoon when you decided to surprise Eddie after cheer.

“Is this why you’ve been ditching practice?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at Chrissy. “So you can smoke up a storm with my boyfriend?”

“Y/N-“ You cut Chrissy off.

“Is it just smoking? Because I know every time me and you smoke together,” you began, pointing an accusing finger at Eddie. “It ends with sex. Are you fucking her too? Trying to see how many cheerleaders you can get wrapped around your finger? Is this some kind of game? Some kind of payback?”

“No, I was just teaching her how to roll a joint and how to smoke without coughing up a lung,” Eddie replied, grabbing your hands.

You scoffed, pushing him off of you. “I can’t believe you two right now… my boyfriend and my best friend, I mean, am I some kind of joke to you guys?” You asked, glaring at the both of them.

“It’s not like that, Y/N, please just listen to me!” Chrissy exclaimed.

“Shut the fuck up, Cunningham. You may have everyone else in Hawkins fooled but I know the real you. That horrible, bitchy side of you,” you snapped. “It was only a matter of time until I got stuck in your web, wasn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, Henderson-“

“Shut up, Munson!” You yelled. “You know what, you two enjoy your night, i’m fucking out of here.”

With that you stalked out of Eddie’s room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you threw the front door open, running straight into Wayne.

“Y/N,” he said, panicked at your tear stained cheeks. “What did he do?” Wayne asked.

“He’s fucking my best friend!” You exclaimed, pushing past Wayne and walking home alone in the dark, nothing but your sobs to keep you company.

© luvfae 2022

#stranger things #netflix #eddie munson #dustin henderson #eddie munson angst #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #my favourite henderson

[fioreofthemarch]

Finding Her - Chapter 17

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date: 06:35. 8th month, 29th day 104AC Location: Tuft Mountain, Faron Weather: Rain

Link, Zelda’s Chosen Protector. You do not wish to talk to me. I understand, however we must talk. 

I know the Purah Pad is precious to you. I have watched you document your travels and your thoughts. Please forgive me for taking it while you sleep in order to write you this note.

It is imperative that we retrieve the Master Sword and return to Lookout Landing to meet with Lady Purah. The Demon King’s power grows by the day. Even in my construct body I can sense it. The air is ever hazy and the blood moons are more frequent. Soon will be the hour of his ascension and, if we do not act, his victory.

Link, Zelda’s Chosen Protector. She called you that herself. She told me that after the Great Calamity, your obligations towards each other ceased. Hyrule did not need a Princess nor did its Princess need a Knight. Despite this, Zelda recounted, she chose to stay, and so did you.

I know it is difficult to believe, but in my time, Zelda made another choice. One that gave Hyrule its last, best hope. Do not let it be in vain. 

A photograph of Tuft Mountain lake, which is shaped like a love heart. There are lily pads in the water and blue nightshades glowing softly on the banks. 

Caption: I sense something bittersweet about this place. 

---

Incoming transmission… [LINK (Purah Pad)]

Answer transmission? ...

Answer transmission? ...

Answer — Connection established.

PRH | 23:33 Link? Why are you still awake?

LNK | 23:33 Couldn’t sleep.

PRH | 23:33 Okay.

LNK | 23:33 I found the fifth Sage.

PRH | 23:33 Oh! Great, great news. (yawning) Sorry.   How is she? I mean, they. How are they? 

LNK | 23:33 You knew about her, didn't you? 

PRH | 23:33 In my defence, she contacted me first.  Is she still in the Purah Pad?

LNK | 23:34 We made her a construct body.

PRH | 23:34 Wonderful, I’ll inform the others.  Head back to Lookout Landing and we can discuss next steps—

LNK | 23:34 Purah.

PRH | 23:34 What?

LNK | 23:34 During the Calamity. Did you have a backup plan?

PRH | 23:34 Linky, I had several. You’ll have to be more specific. 

LNK | 23:34 I mean for if I failed, a second time.

PRH | 23:35 Of course I did. You were our best hope, but we would have freed our Princess no matter what.  

LNK | 23:35 What if– I mean, what would–

PRH | 23:35 What is it?  

LNK | 23:35 What would happen to Hyrule, if she wasn’t coming back?

PRH | 23:35 I… I don’t know. We never planned for that. Maybe ask Impa, okay?

LNK | 23:35 She doesn’t have a medallion, you do. Just answer me.

PRH | 23:35 Answer what, exactly? Why are you even… Wait. What else have you found?

LNK | 23:35 Nothing.

PRH | 23:36 Link, if it’s about Zelda we need you to tell us—  

LNK | 23:36 I can’t! Not yet! (a pause) I can’t do it.

PRH | 23:36 Do what?

LNK | 23:36 Find her. I can’t… make myself. I can’t.

PRH | 23:36 Look, you’re starting to freak me out a bit. Maybe you should come back to Lookout Landing. You shouldn’t be alone right now.

LNK | 23:37 I’m not alone. Mineru is here.

PRH | 23:37 Okay, Good. Say hi to her for me. Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sure you’ll get through… whatever it is. And then please, come back.

LNK | 23:37 Okay. I’ll try.

Connection terminated.

---

Log date: 10:00. 8th month, 31st day 104AC Location: Flux Construct Island, Faron Sky Archpelago Weather: Cloudy 

Two days in Faron with Mineru. Saw Penn at Lakeside Stables. Had lunch, he cooked. Can't remember what he made. 

Then north-west. Travellers on the road wary of Mineru. Detoured via Faron Grasslands. Watched Mineru build a balloon-ship. Zonai parts for propulsion and salvaged wood for the fuselage. Fuselage. Where did I learn that word?

Flew the balloon-ship here -- quicker than walking, fewer staring travellers. Dealt with the Flux Construct on the island, tough fight but got it done. That was yesterday I think. 

Another geoglyph by Lake Hylia. Glided down to it this morning -- a vision about Rauru, and the Imprisoning War. She tried to warn him, but, what did it matter in the end? 

A photograph of Mineru, in her Zonai Construct form, examining the wreckage of the Flux Construct. In the background is the balloon ship. With a wooden hull, three Zonai balloons for buoyancy and a fan for propulsion, it is a well-engineered vessel. 

Caption: Checking the ship for damage and then moving on. 

---

Log date: 17:50. 9th month, 1st day 104AC Location: Thyphlo Ruins, North Hyrule Weather: Partly cloudy. 

Touched down this morning. Gave the Zonai researcher here a bit of a scare. Kazul – he was trying to solve the riddles in the ruins. Asked Mineru for help but she refused. ‘Didn’t your people build this place?’ She refused again, her voice in my head: You are wasting time. 

Does she think I don’t know that? I know there’s a geoglyph nearby, it’s why we came here. But every time I try to go find it… It’s like I can’t breathe. There’s this claw in my chest, its nails digging in. And then I start shaking. I shake and I cry and I… I can’t do it. Physically, I can’t move. 

There’s smoke rising from the middle of the ruins. Someone’s made a fire. I came to the waterside to be alone, but now, I’m hungry. Maybe I could cook Kazul some stew, to celebrate the great research paper he’s going to write about this place. And then we have to move on. 

Mineru’s construct… It was built to carry a pilot. Maybe if I can’t walk, she can carry me. Better apologise first, for tarrying.

A photograph of the Thyphlo Ruins, the Sheikah SkyView Tower at the centre and the rocky red cliffs of Eldin in the background to the east. The geoglyph painted there is distorted, but looms high on the horizon. 

Caption: One more. Just one more. 

---

Incoming transmission… [Robbie (Message Medallion)]

Answer transmission? …

Answer transmission? …

Answer transmission? …

*beep* Begin recorded voice message:

[ Link, it’s Robbie. Impa is here. I was visiting Kakariko on my way back to Hateno, and saw that she’s also in town for a few days before returning to the Forgotten Temple. Something about needing a book from her library of ancient texts. Anyway I thought you might want to talk to her, update her on your progress. Call us back in the next day or so if you can ]

LNK | 09:10 (click) I’m here, I’m here. 

RBB | 09:10 Well, well, he finally picks up. Purah Pad still working?  

LNK | 09:10 Yes?

RBB | 09:10 Excellent. Let us know if you need it serviced. I’ll pass you on to Impa. (shuffling noises)

IMP | 09:11 Hello, Master Link. 

LNK | 09:11 Lady Impa. You wanted to speak to me?

IMP | 09:11 Purah told me what happened at Hyrule Castle and about the fifth Sage. 

LNK | 09:11 Mineru is her name. She’s a Zonai. 

IMP | 09:11 Wonderful. And you continue the search for the geoglyphs?

LNK | 09:11 I have.

IMP | 09:11 Do you wish to talk about it?

LNK | 09:11 Not really. Not yet.Is that okay?

IMP | 09:11 It is. I am certain Zelda can manage a few more days. Sometimes we must answer when destiny calls. Other times, it is okay to wait until we are ready. 

LNK | 09:12 How do you know–

IMP | 09:12 I am Sheikah. It is my duty to seek truth, and sense it in others.

LNK | 09:12 Right. (a weak laugh) Of course. Lady Impa… during the Calamity, when Zelda and I were gone.

IMP | 09:13 Yes, child?

LNK | 09:13 Did you ever give up hope?

IMP | 09:13 Of course I did. I grieved for you both for many years.

LNK | 09:13 How did you survive it?

IMP | 09:13 For starters I grew very old, which has a handy way of making the years feel short. All I could do until then was continue waking up each morning, in spite of it all. But all the wisdom in the world did not make it any easier. 

LNK | 09:13 Right now, it feels impossible.

IMP | 09:13 Yes, but you will keep waking up. You have it in you to survive this, Master Link. For her sake, I believe you can.   

LNK | 09:14 (a pause) She has the Master Sword. It travelled through time to find her, she said.

IMP | 09:14 I see. Her divine powers could restore it, of course. But how to return it to you?

LNK | 09:14 Well…there’s one more dragon tear in Akkala. There’s no geoglyph but I know it’s there.

IMP | 09:14 Ah, the final clue. Are you ready, then?

LNK | 09:14 No. But I’m going anyway.

IMP | 09:15 As it must be. Walk with the Goddess’ grace, Master Link. We will be at your side, no matter what happens. 

Connection terminated.

---

Log date: 12:00. 9th month, 3rd day 104AC Location: Rist Peninsula, Akkala Weather: Clear. 

Let me paint you a picture. You are you, the Hero of Hyrule, or so they call you. You descend into the depths below Hyrule Castle and find something that did not want to be found, and then– 

You wake up, in a quiet room in the sky. You know something’s missing, and it’s not just your arm. 

You return to your friends on the surface and promise to help them. But something’s still missing. Everyone promises to look, and they look everywhere, but find nothing. 

You search, and search, and search, all the while you know what you’re looking for isn’t there. It’s gone, it always was. You know this, deep down in your soul, but you ignore it. You will realise that you knew when you first saw that dragon above you. You know her so well that even completely changed, she is so familiar. 

But you ignore it, because… because… 

You never meant to love her this much. She was just an assignment, back in the day. Some sheltered girl to keep safe from herself. She rejected you, challenged you, frustrated you, but… you shared something. She was so alone, just like you were. You developed an understanding, then a friendship, then something more. You laid down your life for her, and she did the same for you. 

Then you saved her, or maybe you saved each other, and afterwards never spent more than a day apart. And Goddess, she was so beautiful, so brilliant, so vibrant. You could listen to her talk for hours. Often you did, and you never grew tired of it. You admit now that you fell, hard, and you wanted not just her but a whole life with her. You wanted to marry her. You wanted children. You didn’t know it until this damned moment but you wanted it more than anything in the world.

Now you’re here, in Akkala of all places, making your way towards a sandbank to which she has led you. You know the worst is yet to come, but that you owe it to her to continue. You know every step is taking you closer to the last thing you want to see, but you cannot help it. You have no choice – you will seek the final tear, and you will watch in helpless terror as the one person you wanted to find is lost to you forever. 

A photograph of the spiralling Rist Peninsula, the waters ruffled by the wind and sparkling in the sun. The peninsula is coiled around a silver pillar of light, bright enough to be seen even in the middle of the day. 

A photograph of a ring of Silent Princesses. They grow tall, strong and radiant, and are clustered around a small shallow in the ground. At the centre, a dragon tear awaits. 

A photograph of the Light Dragon, flying low over the sea. From her head streams a blue and golden light like the tail of a comet. Barely visible at the source of the stream is a noble and familiar blade, with its legendary purple hilt and winged cross guard. In the Light Dragon’s open eye, fine droplets can be seen – the remnants of a fallen tear. 

Caption: Okay. I’m ready. 

---

Log date: 16:30. 9th month, 3rd day 104AC Location: [Unable to determine location when Purah Pad is in motion. Please come to a full stop before using the map function.] Weather: Clear 

Zelda… my brave, brave... How can I ever claim to be the courageous one now? I couldn’t have done what you did. It looked... so terrifying. To transform like that. And painful too. Goddess, I hope it didn’t hurt. 

I don’t deserve you, Zelda, I don’t deserve this. The Master Sword has been fully repaired, but it’s stronger. I can feel her power mixed in with yours and made more formidable than ever. The Demon King won’t know what hit him. 

I’m going to kill him, Zelda. I’m going to tear him into a thousand pieces. When I am done there will be nothing left. This isn’t reckless rage like before. This is divine vengeance. And I will have it. 

I guess you’re all out of tears now. I feel the same way. Reading back through the logs you wouldn’t know it. No one puts in their diary that they spent the whole day crying in a cave! But I did. And now it feels like I have no grief left. Only a dull thud on my chest. Thud, thud, thud. 

I wish we could talk. I have so much to tell you. How can I live the rest of my life knowing— No. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to be near you, to sit in your soft hair and float through the sky. If I had my way, I would never leave. 

A photograph of the Light Dragon Zelda’s face, taken from what is most likely one of her slender blue horns. There is a small bald patch on her forehead where the Master Sword used to be. Her expression, though mostly blank, seems content. 

Capt~~~[ Warning ] Log save interrupted. Error code: 11-78 Overspeed *Recovering…Partial text recovery and de-encryption complete:

Caption: How’s the weather up here? %%%50 6C 65 61 73 65 20 73 61 79 20 73 6F 6D 65 74 68 69 6E 67 2C 20 5A 65 6C 64 61 2E 20 53 6F 6D 65 74 68 69 6E 67 20 61 6E  79 74 68 69 6E 67 20 74 6F 20 73 68 6F 77 20 6D 65 20 79 6F 75 20 61 72 65 20 73 74 69 6C 6C 20 69 6E 20 74 68 65 72 65 2E 20 50 6C 65 61 73 65 2C 20 5A 65 6C 64 61 2E 20 49 20 6D 69 73 73 20 79 6F 75 20 73 6F 20 6D 75 63 68 2E 20 41 6E 79 74 68 69 6E 67 2C 20 70 6C 65 61 73 65 2E 20 41 6E 79 74 68 69 6E 67 20 61 74 20 61 6C 6C 2E

#totk #tears of the kingdom #tloz #zelink #tloz fanfic #link #zelda #dragon tears #indulge me I just noticed something: #he spends the a whole story writing about how he loves her voice and then even though shes okay he will never hear it again #AUUGHGHGHGHGHG AUGHGHGHGHGHG #thanks for reading love yall

[il-predestinato]

Let’s test your speed writing shall we? 😛

Hmm… my favourite number maybe? 38 🥺🧡

38. "Small Talk" by Katy Perry; pairing - lestappen (what a surprise!)

I just can't believe We went from strangers to lovers to strangers in a lifetime

So... Al, this one completely got away from me: it’s um... slightly longer than 5 sentences (2093 words apparently).

send me an ask with a number between 1 and 100 and I'll write a 5ish sentence fic inspired by that song on my 2022 wrapped playlist!

Title: One Day

Summary: The Monaco Grand Prix is cursed.

Day 37

Max always remembers. Charles always forgets.

Max remembers the address of Charles' apartment in Monte Carlo. (Charles told him on Day 5. Not too shabby, thought Max, for two people who were never friends and closer to enemies.) This time, he goes there first. The speech is well-rehearsed by now. It was a blabbering mess on Day 9, and Charles nearly tossed him off the balcony. (Day 10 was worse; Charles actually called Christian, fuck his life, and nearly called a sports psychologist before Max yeeted his phone off the balcony in desperation.) By Day 13, Max had a polished version of 'the speech'. By now, he could probably rhyme it off in his sleep. Not that it ever yielded any better results, so he abandoned this approach on Days 30 to 36. And that got him nowhere either. So back to square one.

He waits patiently for the five stages of grief to cycle past on speedrun; to give Charles some credit, despite the lack of memory retention, he did seem to get over it quicker and quicker each time. Perhaps something of each Day lingered, even if it wasn't remembrance per se.

"So it's always at Nouvelle Chicane or Le Portier?" questions Charles, hands rubbing at his temples.

Max nods, and then shakes his head. "At the Swimming Pool once," he amends. "On Day 12, I think... a crane fell on my head."

"Why was there even a crane?!" Charles groans, scandalized.

Max shrugs. He hasn't even told Charles about Day 31; a jewel thief literally ran across the race track and smashed a briefcase full of diamonds straight into Charles' helmet at 285 kph.

"So sometimes you die, and sometimes I die?" mumbles Charles with a frown.

"It doesn't matter who," confirms Max. "Then the Day restarts with my alarm going off at 7 am."

-

Day 38

"You've got to be kidding!"

Max is trying not to smile, but Charles looks absolutely petulant.

Charles glares at him. "I died at La Rascasse?" He throws both hands up in the air. "Like... how?! La Rascasse! At the hairpin?! I drive faster to the supermarket, mon dieu!"

"This time I think you took Lando with you -"

Panicked green eyes met his. "Oh, putain!" screeches Charles. "Did I kill Lando? Oh my God, oh my God. Max, please tell me I didn't -"

"Relax, mate." Max rubs both temples. Why is he always cursed to remember? "Everything resets. Lando will be fine."

"But are you sure?" insists Charles anxiously.

Max squeezes him gently on the shoulder. A little shiver runs up his arm, and he's not sure why. This wasn't exactly their first physical contact off the track. (Some Days he can remember more vividly than others; he's not quite ready to admit that the hug from Charles is the reason he remembers Day 9 more clearly than the 29 days that followed.)

"I promise," he says softly. "I got both George and Lance on Day 24, and they both came back just fine the next day."

-

Day 40

“Okay, what if we kill someone else first?”

Max is both impressed and mildly alarmed. It really didn’t take Charles all that long to make the leap from ‘wallow in despair about the unbreakable curse’ to ‘let’s move on to murder.’

“It won’t work.” He shakes his head. ��Day 17. Toto and Helmut sort of decapitated each other mid-race, but the Day didn’t end until Carlos put me into the barrier.”

“Toto and Helmut did what?”

-

Day 43

"Tell me what happened yesterday."

Max freezes. The ache in his chest hasn't dulled at all.

Yesterday.

“It’s easier if I show you,” he murmurs, as he tries to ignore the sting in the corners of his eyes.

He steps closer to Charles. He hesitates.

The problem is that he has spent 42 Days with Charles, while Charles has spent none of those Days with him.

He laughs inwardly. But then again, Charles won’t remember this Day either, so what does he have to lose?

Boldness, grief, desire - seizes his chest all at once - and he gathers Charles’ face between his hands; for a fraction of a second, he realizes that Charles isn’t flinching, isn’t moving away. He kisses the soft lips, the very same ones he kissed for the first time yesterday.

Charles kisses him back. And it’s like it was yesterday again.

-

Day 61

It’s worse when he is the cause of death.

-

Day 87

No, it’s worse when Charles dies in his arms.

-

Day 90

He’s wrong again. Nothing is worse than seeing the grief in those green eyes as Max dies in his arms.

Max wants to rip at the gaping wound in his chest. Let him bleed out faster. Let it be tomorrow already.

-

Day 91

“Tell me what happened yesterday.”

Max laughs and sobs. (He sobs in joy.)

He thanks all the stars that Charles didn’t remember. That Charles never remembers.

-

Day 113

“I wish I could remember,” confesses Charles. “It doesn’t seem fair that you know so much about me, and I know almost nothing about you.” He traces his hand along Max’s exposed chest, nestling his face deeper into the crook of Max’s neck.

Max lets him explore. He selfishly loves it. There’s a certain awe in Charles’ expression that he adores, the way he “learns” (relearns) Max’s body each time.

“It’s better that you don’t,” he teases, going for levity this time. “It’s the only way I can guarantee you mind-blowing sex every time, like you’ve never experienced.”

Charles punches him lightly on the sternum. (Max smiles; it’s kinder than the mean little pinch Charles gave him on Day 99.)

“Let’s stay in bed today,” he suggests. “No racing today.”

Charles nods, pressing a feathery kiss to his collarbone. “Maybe that’s the trick.”

Max doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they already tried: Day 7, Day 21, Day 78, Days 103-109. If anything, they always died faster.

-

Day 188

“I love you,” Charles tells him.

Butterflies dance in his chest, and Max fights to maintain composure, just like he did all the previous times when Charles said those words. “You’ve only been with me for a few hours.”

“More than half a year,” corrects Charles.

Has it been that long? Max doesn’t say out loud.

He squeezes Max’s hand on their way out the door, on the way to the race track (on the way to their doom).

“Even if I don’t say it tomorrow, or the Day after that, or for a few Days,” insists Charles. “Just remember that I love you. Always. Even if I don’t remember it.”

-

Day 213

Charles dies for the fifteenth Day in a row.

Max prays to a deity that he doesn’t believe in.

-

Day 219

Charles dies for the twenty-first Day in a row.

Max curses the deity he doesn’t believe in. He vows to let the world break its fucking neck if it means he can keep Charles.

-

Day 220

He tries a different approach. He reaches for all the ugly parts of him that he once swore he would never become.

“- and that is why you will never win the Monaco Grand Prix,” he snarls at Charles, even as he feels his chest - his whole body - fracturing. He wants to bite until he bleeds and swallow his own tongue, but he ploughs on for Charles’ sake. “You will never live up to what you promised your father or Jules -”

Charles punches him. Hard.

It hurts.

He’s glad it hurts. Maybe if Charles hates him, like the universe did, maybe then - just maybe - he might live.

-

Day 224

“I didn’t mean it,” he swallows thickly. “I didn’t mean any of it -”

Charles kisses away whatever apology he was trying to form in his throat.

He can’t help but think: If Charles could remember, truly remember, he would never forgive me.

-

Day 330

Today, he doesn’t go to Charles at all.

Maybe he is the problem.

The poison that feeds this curse. He is the constant variable after all, the part of the equation that dooms them to this eternal purgatory.

-

Day 359

Charles tries to go to him.

He never accounted for that.

Max wants to open that door. Just one twist of the door knob, and Charles will be on the other side. Beautiful, kind, brave Charles. He wants -

It takes every might of his willpower to pull his hand away from the door.

-

Day 362

It’s raining. It never rains. This Day is always, unfailingly sunny.

Charles is in his arms once again, bleeding out on the pavement. The rain tries to wash the blood away. Tries to wash Charles away.

He’s crying, but Charles can’t see that, because the rain washes his tears away too.

“I should have been with you.”

All that wasted time. And for what?

He hasn’t seen Charles for twenty-two Days, but the green eyes that stare back at him are calm, even as the life behind them fades with every passing second.

“You’re with me now,” whispers Charles weakly.

“I love you,” he sobs. He doesn’t care if he’s practically a stranger to this Charles, the one dying in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

When Charles’ eyes close at last, his face is peaceful, almost the hint of a smile tugging on his lips. A little bit of pain departs with the last breath that Max releases before his world fades to black.

-

Day 363

Charles launches a baguette at his head, and Max cannot believe the man still insists that he doesn’t possess a single iota of French ancestry.

“You abandoned me for how many days?” Charles’ accusation makes him flinch harder than the impact of the baguette on his forehead.

“Schat, I -”

Charles growls at him. “Don’t ‘schat’ me! First of all, I have no idea what that means -”

Max makes an offended noise. Charles loves his pet name, if only he could remember.

“Second of all,” continues Charles relentlessly, “I may not remember, but I felt it.”

That causes Max to fall silent.

“Oh.”

Charles sniffs, picking up the discarded baguette off the floor. “I don’t know how to explain it, but even when I don’t remember, I feel all of it. I can feel everything we went through.”

-

Day 365

Some Days are easier than others. He’s not sure which Day this one is yet. A quick, painless death after a long, beautiful day of laughter? They even made it past the actual race twice. (The first time, Charles drowned in the Monte Carlo harbour during the after party; it remains the one and only time he’s ever won the Monaco Grand Prix, which Max continues to tease him about. The second time, Daniel accidentally cracked Max’s skull with the podium champagne.) Or will it be a painful, drawn out death after a gloomy, joyless day? (Max is still embarrassed about that time he slipped on a bar of soap in the shower on Day 81, ending the Day about 15 minutes after it had started.)

Charles lays a bowl of tomato soup in front of him.

(Max once told him that he loved tomato soup. Maybe 150 Days ago. Maybe earlier than that. He mentioned it only once. Not that Charles ever remembers.)

Somehow Charles always remembers.

“So what’s the plan today?” asks Charles lightly.

The morning sun is streaming through the pearly white curtains, and a crown of light dances around Charles’ soft brown curls. A soft breeze through the open window wafts the tangy aroma of tomato soup towards him.

He takes Charles’ hand in his own and pulls him down so he can taste him on his lips.

“Just being with you,” he whispers, and his heart lightens when Charles rewards him with a dimpled smile. “If I have to live one Day over and over again, then I’m going to spend that Day with you.”

He understands now.

He thought the universe had cursed him. Had cursed them. But even a single Day with Charles was a gift. And he got to relive it over and over again. He won’t waste it again.

-

Day 366 Tomorrow

The alarm doesn’t go off at 7 am.

He only wakes up when the warm duvet is rudely snatched away from him, leaving him shivering in the crisp morning air. A pair of ice cold feet burrows their way into the warm space between his thighs, and a whiplash of messy brown hair makes his eyes sting after settling on his pillow.

-

Hope you enjoyed, @alestire

That kind of... spiralled.

#charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #* #my fic #elle.ask #al tag #ask game #spotify wrapped inspired #this is how i cope with the monaco gp curse

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 7-8

Around this point I actually read back and asked myself, "Is this moving too fast?" Then I remember the speed at which a Leverage episode actually moves and the kind of beating Harry usually picks up each book, and went, "Nah."

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SEVEN

The divide between magic and technology is a known quantity. Every wizard knows to stay away from most mechanical things; the more complex they are, the more likely they were to break. The more powerful the wizard, the quicker it was gonna happen. Even knowing these things, I hadn't realized how deep that boundary ran until I tried to find out anything about my prospective employers.

If it had been a magical entity, a spell, an artifact, between Bob and I we could have probably found out at least the basics, but Bob couldn't find out anything about the Leverage people. I wasn't crazy enough to try and scry something in Boston, never mind the range.

All I could tell was that Leverage was, apparently, a purely mundane affair. Based in Boston as they were I didn't doubt they'd run themselves into something other that the average human, but as the afternoon dragged on I began to realize I was going to have more luck finding out what, rather than getting any sort of information on whatever Deveraux and Ford actually had going on.

A smart man would have said no on principle. What little I could find out told me that if things had gotten so bad that an entirely non-magical outfit like Leverage had come looking for a wizard, then they were bad enough that walking away unscathed to enjoy that absurdly large paycheck was not guaranteed. Not even 50/50 odds.

But 50/50 was still better than no odds at all.

And I hadn't lied when I told Deveraux that I'm a curious man.

She'd written a number on the back of the card. Not a hotel, so they could have been anywhere. I eyed it while I called Butters and asked him to look after Mister while I was away. Then I called it.

"Harry." Deveraux actually sounded happy to hear me; it was refreshing.

"Train. The older the better," I told her. "That applies to any tech you want near me, too. Mouse comes with me."

"Yes, of course."

"The daily fee is… good." My voice cracked a bit despite my best attempt at sounding like it was not a holy-heck amount of money. I cleared it. "It's good. But I can't go longer than a week. One week and I'm coming back home, even if your problem's not solved."

"That's fine."

"And I need a basement."

"A b… A basement?"

"It's contained in case something bad happens."

"Ah." The fact she didn't ask questions told me containment was a common concern in both her line of work and mine. "Anything else?"

"I can't think of anything off the top of my head. I'm sure something will come up." Something did almost immediately. "A full briefing as soon as I'm there. No secrets, no lies. If I find out you've lied to me, I'll leave."

"We'll tell you as much as we know," she assured me, and I found myself believing her. "Welcome to the team, Harry."

It felt weird to be welcomed, to be made to feel as if I were part of a team that actually wanted me there. "When do you think you'll have everything ready?"

There was laughter in her tone. "When do you think you'll be packed?"

Three hours later I was at Union Station, being escorted off the oldest VW minibus in existence and onto a rail car that apparently I had all to myself, like something out of an Agatha Christie book. I'd packed Bob, my tools, a quick-spell kit, any books I thought might help, and a change of clothes. Mouse looked mournfully at me as the train began to move, and I couldn't blame him; it felt as if I were leaving a piece of myself behind.

I knew Chicago. It was home. I knew the people, the streets. I knew its seasons, its weather. I knew the hangouts of most of the dangerous creatures in it, both human and inhuman. I knew every layer of it, every mood, every current.

I knew very little about Boston except that it was a supernatural melting pot. Most creatures that crossed from the Old World or from Other Places and didn't come through the Nevernever landed in Boston; many stayed there, made lives there. There were inhuman families that were generations old, living side by side with the descendants of human immigrants. The divide between mortal and supernatural was as thin as my willpower in Boston.

Look, Deveraux had handed me a really big number.

The train never stopped. That struck me as weird, but then I'd never traveled first class on a train before, so I had no bar for normal. I tried to sleep, but the novelty of everything wore off a couple of hours into the trip, and panic began to settle in. What the hell was I doing? I was Chicago's wizard, not Boston's!

Well, it was done. The AC broke about halfway through the trip, but with the windows open I never even noticed. I got my books out and read, trying to give myself a crash course on the magical scene in Boston, so to speak. Mouse took over one of the windows and seemed to have forgiven me, head thrust out into the wind of our passage, jowls flapping and the plume of his tail wagging sedately. He scared the crap out of the one person I did see, a young man who brought me breakfast and lunch, somehow still warm.

The sun had just set when the train pulled into the Back Bay. I could feel the air buzzing all around me with an imperceptible, invisible charge, the ambient energy of hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of supernatural creatures crackling against my senses. I felt both supercharged and itchy, and Mouse shook himself furiously when we finally made it off the rail car.

There was a man waiting for me on the concourse. He was tremendously solid, the sort of build I used to wish for when I was young, heavy muscle under a worn leather jacket, faded blue jeans and comfortable curb-stomper boots. He had long, very fine brown hair and oddly guileless blue eyes. He had stubble matching mine and he straightened up from his lazy slouch with the ease of someone perfectly at peace with the world around him.

I couldn't see the bulge of a gun anywhere, but I was pretty sure this was Leverage's heavy hitter.

Then he grinned at me, and his whole face lit up, and I thought maybe I was wrong. "Dresden?"

"That's me," I admitted.

He offered his hand without hesitation. "Eliot Spencer. Eliot's fine. Sorry to drag you so far from home."

This man was a walking contradiction. His hands told me I was right. His attitude told me I was wrong. He was the nicest, friendliest man with violence as his main occupation that I'd ever met up to that point in my life. He meant every word of his apology. He was sizing me up for threats.

Belatedly, I realized that Boston was literally supercharging me. My senses, both magical and normal, were trying to run away with me. I had nothing else at the moment; I clung to the hand Eliot Spencer offered, to the strength in it. "Oh, you didn't, not really. Too curious for my own good. Give me a second, would you?"

"You ok, man?"

"Just a little… drunk on the night air," I said, knowing how that had to sound to him.

I was not expecting the change that went over him. It was seamless, instantaneous. One moment Eliot Spencer was welcoming me to his home like a ray of sunshine; the next he was all deadly intent, a sort of quiet, intangible menace radiating from him like the darkest light. "A problem?" he asked mildly.

It told me two things; one, that I was right after all and two, that whatever had brought me to Boston was big enough to have this calm, steady man on a hair-trigger. "No, it's…. Boston's busy. Boston's real busy when it comes to magic. It hangs in the air, makes it thick, and it's giving me a head rush."

"Chicago's not like that?"

"No. The Lake grounds it. Water's good for that."

"I could take you by the Charles if it would help - hey!" And just like that the ray of sunshine was back when Mouse came trotting back from wherever he'd gone to take care of his business. Eliot dropped down to a crouch. "Who's this, Mouse, I think?"

"Yeah. Just watch out, he's not always -" Mouse, tail a blur, charged the Leverage man with a delighted huff and proceeded to lick anything Eliot didn't vigilantly protect, making him chuckle. Well. That was new. And good news for me. "Friendly. He was also a lot smaller when he was a puppy."

Eliot straightened up, rubbing Mouse's head with rough affection. My dog looked blissful, tongue lolling to one side. "Bait-and-switched you, huh."

"It might've been, if he'd given me any choice in the matter."

"He's big for a Tibetan Mastiff," Eliot pointed out. "Wrong color, too."

"He's not. He's a Tibetan Temple Mastiff."

Again that brief pause. Eliot looked down at Mouse. Mouse looked up at him.

The Leverage man grinned again and rubbed Mouse's ears. "Eh, he looks dog enough for me. Anyway. If you're feeling better, let's get you settled. I rented a van."

"Cars get temperamental with me around."

"Dresden, if you can break down a u-Haul, I'll believe you're a wizard no further questions. Where's your luggage?"

EIGHT

Apparently the Leverage people weren't unfamiliar with what happened when you put magic too close to tech. I was put up in their 'temporary' quarters, a small house a lick away from their actual place of business, a loft over a bar by the incredibly Irish name of John McRory's Place.

The house was nice. It had a fenced yard that Mouse promptly claimed as his own and a finished basement that I promptly claimed as my own. The bedroom looked suspiciously like someone had ordered it directly from a catalog, sheets and all. The only other rooms that were accessible were one bathroom and the living room, which had been set up as a meeting area of sorts. The kitchen was empty. The other rooms were full of crates.

There was dinner from the pub waiting for me that night, and a phone in a manila envelope. I offered to share my beer with Eliot; the phone died with a sad little squawk before we finished it.

"That's gonna make things hard," he admitted wryly, examining the dead screen of the phone. "I take it a bluetooth's out of the question?"

"The more parts to it, the quicker it goes."

I saw him get very thoughtful. "What about size? The bigger it is?"

"How big are we talking about?" I asked mildly, sensing a chance to finally get some information as to what had brought me to Boston.

"TV screen," Eliot answered without hesitation, then spread his arms. "Yay big."

"What were you doing at the time?"

"Trying to get a composite from a bunch of blurry pictures."

"What happened?"

"It cracked." He grinned wryly. "Top to bottom. We took that thing out to the recycling in two halves." His jovial mood faded. "I don't like the look on your face right now, Dresden."

"You shouldn't." I was trying to think of creatures that could shatter a screen like that, with just their image, without actually being there. It was a short list; it was also a very scary list. "It wasn't anything else, it had to be the picture?"

"The man who works our tech is the best, hands-down. His equipment doesn't blow up like that without a good reason," Eliot said calmly, then put his hands up. "Wait, no, I'm supposed to let you rest tonight. You're gonna hear all this tomorrow morning anyway."

"I did nothing but sleep on the train ride," I told him. I won't lie, it felt nice to know the Leverage outfit, whatever their business might be, gave enough of a damn to give me the night to myself. Most people who hire me for that kind of money expected 24-7 service, never mind what kind of shape I might be in at the end of the day. "Tell me what you can."

He gave me one of the few measuring looks I've ever gotten that didn't have my harm at heart before he made a decision and tipped his head toward the pub. "Come on."

"Mouse, watch the place." Mouse flopped in front of the door and settled down with a yawn.

The front of the pub was roaring, but we came in from the back. Eliot knocked softly on a door, poked his head in and murmured something to someone in there. I caught a faint whiff of something sweet, almost like licorice - probably a storage room, and a bottle of liquor had broken and been cleaned up. Eliot got his answer; he closed the door and we moved on. He peeked out into the main floor and called out something I couldn't hear over the noise of the crowd before heading to a pair of elevator doors.

I stopped walking. "Uh…"

He paused, turned, and led me to the stairs, grinning. "You know, I don't even think about most of this stuff. Tech's embedded so deep into our lives."

"I just wish for a hot water heater that didn't break in under a week," I told him.

"Yikes."

"Yup."

"Just keep your distance from Hardison's tech," Eliot warned me as he led me into a vast, elegant little loft. The bare brick walls had paintings on them that looked… modern. Expensive. I didn't know enough about art back then to appreciate what they were. A spiral staircase led up to what was probably a bedroom, and behind it was a typical modern kitchen. Most of the open space was taken up by a very modern, very sleek meeting room sort of setup, a wall full of screens and a small curve of desks before it. "He's still sore about those screens."

"Screens? More than one?"

"Yeah, a second one a day after -"

A young woman came flying into the loft. "Where is he? Where's the wizard?"

"Parker, don't -"

She whirled and faced me, and immediately made a face. "Aren't you supposed to have a white bushy beard?"

"Not for another couple hundred years."

I hadn't expected my quip to bring her up short, but it did. She seemed to really think about it, and it gave me a chance to examine her. She was young, wiry, blonde, pretty. She had the same kind of intensity Karrin had, but her focus seemed to change from minute to minute.

"Oh. I didn't think about that. There have to be young wizards to get old wizards."

"Parker." Eliot sighed.

"No robes?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Fancy spell books?"

"I do have one of those."

"Can I see it?"

"Parker, let the man catch his breath." Sophie Deveraux looked cozy and elegant and beautiful in a flowing blue blouse and a shimmering gray skirt. She beamed at me and I felt warm and fuzzy. Look, I'm man enough to admit it, I'm a sucker for a pretty lady, particularly one that doesn't want me dead. "Harry."

"Miss Deveraux."

"Just Sophie, Harry, please. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait?"

"I'm good. I got all my rest in the train ride. Boston's full of energy, and it's making me buzzed, I rather put some of it to work, get it out of my system -"

"Why do you carry a stick?"

I whipped around. Parker had my wand in her hands.

Hell's Bells, I'd never even felt the theft. My wand, and I would have never known she'd gone for it if she hadn't said something.

Something in my face clued Sophie and Eliot that things had gone very badly, very quickly. "Parker!" Sophie cried out.

With all the care of someone handling live explosives, Eliot closed a hand over the 'stick'. "We are trying," he told her, sticking to his calm demeanor like tar, "to make a good impression, Parker."

"Oh, fine. Should I give everything else back?"

I took the quickest stock of my person I'd ever taken in my life. Immediately I found another thing missing that I would have never thought could be taken from me without my notice. How in the hell -!

"Yes!" Sophie told her firmly.

"Well, he didn't have anything interesting anyways," Parker put out her hand with my wallet on it.

And my shield bracelet.

Eliot offered me my wand back, looking sheepish. "Sorry, man."

"I just - how?" Seriously. Never mind the theft, everything was coming back to me, nothing was broken, no one was hurt, I just wanted to know how she'd done it.

"Parker is the best in the world," Sophie said, somehow managing to convey warm pride and icy disapproval all in one. Parker squirmed uncertainly. "She should also bear in mind that as of now you're part of our team, and we don't pickpocket teammates."

Parker held strong under the tone of disapproval longer than I would have. "Sorry," she muttered with ill grace.

"No harm no foul if you teach me how to do it."

She grinned, just a little. "Deal."

"Also, where should I stand so I'm as far away from anything tech-y as possible?"

"Right there." Nathan Ford had arrived, and the mask was off. He still looked vaguely friendly, a little rumpled, somewhat distracted. But there was nothing hiding the ruthless ice in his eyes anymore, or the deep mistrust in the gaze he leveled at me. I was in his world, in his domain, I was his employee. The carrot had done her job, the stick didn't have to mind his manners anymore. "Right there's fine, mister Dresden."

Ford passed everyone by and moved to the kitchen to find himself, apparently, some coffee. "Where's Hardison?"

"He said he wanted to take a few more pictures of the cylinder we found at the museum," Eliot told him. "He's in the storage room."

"What cylinder?" Something was bugging me. It wasn't big, at least not big enough to pin it down, but it was there, nagging at the back of my mind like a toothache after too much sugar.

"There was an issue at the Isabella Gardner Museum," Sophie told me. "Someone tampered with the fire suppression system. They attached some kind of homemade cylinder to the system and it started pumping something out in the air, some sort of perfume." She shrugged lightly. "We don't know why, there was no need for it."

"Perfume?"

"Yes. Fernflower."

I was running the next moment, going on a guess and a prayer. The guess was that the closed door was the storage room. The prayer was that I wouldn't be too late.

The moment I hit the bottom floor a faint reek of sweet, rotten candy and burning flowers made me reel back, coughing, my lungs burning. I could definitely smell the fernflower; worse, I could also smell night's breath. This was some deep, deep magic. Deep and old. Someone had cooked up a Burning Witchwell, and Leverage had blundered right into it. Only luck had kept any of them from being magically inclined, but that luck had run out with the fernflower.

Eliot was right behind me, and he threw a hand over his face. He snatched a bunch of cloth napkins from a nearby shelf and shoved them at me. "What is that?!"

I ran on and shoved the door open to the storage room. There was a man kneeling on the floor before a table, wheezing. The fernflower fumes burned my eyes and I actually heard my skin hiss on contact with the night's breath, but I was running on Boston air. I was so charged up I barely registered any pain.

"Venti, ventum!" I shouted. Wind poured into the storage room. Everything went flying off the shelves. I felt my magic careen out of control, as supercharged as I was, and fought to bring it back under control. I didn't want to wreck the room, I just wanted to get the man to safety, away from the fumes.

"Hardison!" Eliot had already dashed past me, catching the man. He was lanky, lean, deceptively muscled, possibly an inch or so taller than me. His skin was very dark and it had gone blotchy where the night's breath had had time to settle down and sink in. He slurred something unintelligible and squinted intently at me; I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was seeing.

"Dresden?!" Eliot asked, spitting his own hair out of his mouth.

"Go, get him out!"

He didn't question me. I could have danced a happy jig at that show of trust. I backed out of the room; I was one step past the doorway when helpful hands slammed the door shut. "Does the ventilation system here connect to the pub?"

"No, it goes straight out," Ford replied.

"Then just put some…" The borrowed energy from the Boston ambiance ran out. I felt pain creep up over any part of me not covered by fabric. "Put some…"

"Sophie, put some towels at the bottom," Ford's voice was full of calm, focused competency. "Parker, go tell the front of house no one is to come into this room until one of us says otherwise. Eliot." There was a pause. "Dresden, is a hospital going to help either of you?"

"He's fine." Oh, that was Ford's shoulder under my arm, holding me up. When had that happened? "Unless he's got magic, he's just drunk. Sort of."

"And you?"

"I'm a little blistered." I was a little more than blistered, but I had the advantage of knowing the damage wasn't real. "No hospital. A bath."

"Alright. Let's get you and Hardison up to the loft, then."

I wasn't in any shape to argue. I got shoved under a spray of miraculously hot water. Someone peeled my clothes off. At some point I realized I trusted only two people in the loft, and one of them was helping undress me. "Wash your hands," I told Eliot. "Wash the clothes."

"Can we burn them?"

"Don't burn my clothes, I didn't bring any more." I stared at him suspiciously; well, there was only one person I trusted anymore. "Tell Parker to watch my things."

Eliot offered a sound of deeply amused disbelief. Somewhere nearby a man's voice was tunelessly singing what sounded like a church song. "Drunk?"

"Intox… Intec… Sort of. Fernflower gives you magic. See things. Talk to animals. Sorta thing. But it's eph… emph…. It fades quick. You gotta lace it with… other stuff. It It wasn't the weapon, the night's breath was."

"Night's breath?"

"Old plant. Burns up magic. Night's breath was fire. Fernflower was gasoline. 's called a… a Burning Witchwell."

"You aren't breathing right, man."

"Fake. I'll be fine when my…. when my magic comes back. Easy, in this place."

"Fake damage." At that Eliot did look disbelieving. "Hurt's hurt."

"Particularly if you believe in it," I shot back, then put my head up to the spray of hot water. "Oh, that feels good."

I heard Eliot snort in amusement. "Well, enjoy it while you can. Haven't blown up this heater."

"Give me a chance, I just got here."

#leverage #nathan ford #alec hardison #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #parker #the dresden files #harry dresden #crossover #my writing #fanfiction #urban fantasy #mild violence

[itsguysnightitsironic]

INDEX

Once upon a Witchlight -- THE TITLE OF THE EP.

EXTRA CONTENT: . ILLUSTRATION (🧁) . COMIC (🎃) . VIDEO / ANIMATIC (🦢) . SHITPOST (🧚) If emojis are fuss together it's the two things ---> example: (🧚 / 🧁 ) SHITPOST AND ILLUSTRATION. If it's surrender by stars (⭐) it means it's an official LOA short that I was commissioned to animate.

We need some order in our life, not context, just order in the chaos.

EP. 1 CIRCUS TO CIRCUS

Remy Bonnaire from Tiger, Tiger comic??? In the dnd campaign? (🧚) ⭐Madryck Roslof living room. (🧁/🦢) ⭐

EP. 2 REQUIEM FOR A CLOWN

⭐ A little angry man in the void, what will he do? (🦢/🧚) ⭐

EP. 3 LET THEM EAT CAKE

A very out-of-context Ep 3: Let them Eat Cake (🧚/🎃) ⭐ The Furries and Gideon (🦢/🧚) ⭐

EP. 4 LOSE YOUR ILLUSION

EP. 5 BIG TOP BOP

The Only One (PART 1) (🦢 / 🧁) Gondolas are supposed to be calm and relaxing not.. Whatever this was. (🦢 / 🧚) A little angry man in the void, what will he do? (🦢 / 🧚) The Only One (PART 2) (🦢 / 🧁)

EP. 6 GUY'S NIGHT

Guys night! IT'S IRONIC, WE SWEAR-- (🧁/🧚) The Kremy's crew (🧚) They put a foot into the carnival and the Fae magic when: We need to be gay! Trust me gay is in, gay is hot, I want some gay, gay it's gonna be, NANDOR-- (🧚/🎃)

EP. 7 TAINTED LOVE

Would you blink already?!" (🎃) ⭐ A bright mind makes quicker hands (🦢/🧚) ⭐

EP. 8 AT A SNAIL'S RACE

EP. 9 WHEN THE WAGON'S A ROCKIN'

EP. 10 RAUCOUS REVELRY

EP. 11 THE PIXIE DUST PLOT

EP. 12 SCARY MONSTERS AND SUPER CREEPS

EP. 13 AN ELF FOR ALL SEASONS

EP. 14 SASHAY AWAY

EP. 15 FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL

Payasos de rodeo (🧁) I'm sure the wedding was passed as a business expense. (🎃/🧁)

EP. 16 MONARCH FOR A DAY

Never forget what Prismir took from us. (🦢 / 🧚) "We have been, Carnival Lecroux. I love unicorns, and y'all own me one." (🦢) The Only One (PART 3) (🦢 / 🧁)

EP. 17 WHEN THE HARES GO MARCHING IN

What 24h in a carnival does to a man, ah? (🧚/ 🧁) The Only One (PART 4) (🦢 / 🧁)

EP. 18 SNAKES AND BURROWS

The Only One (PART 5) (🦢 / 🧁) Worse found (kidnapped into) family ever. (🧚 / 🎃) The Only One (PART 6) (🦢 / 🧁)

EP. 19 BUMP IN THE NIGHT

Lost things find their way into Prismir (🧚 / 🎃) Drink your fey milk (🦢 / 🧚) The inn on the end of the Road. (🧚) POV: You're getting adopted into a polycube after trying to murder them while on drugs (🧚)

EP. 20 HOT JONES

Fur coats and pumpkin labyrinths. (🎃)

EP. 21 RUNNING UP THAT HILL

EP. 22 HARE TODAY, GONE TOMORROW

New phone, who diss? (🧁) H E R. (🦢 / 🧚)

EP. 23 STUMPED

EP.24 SLIPPERY WHEN WET

EP.25 THE ONE WHERE FIRE GETS PURGED

EP. 26 DON'T LOSE YOUR HEAD

EP. 27 LORD OF FLIES

EP. 28 A COMEDY OF ERRORS

The cookie of true (🧚 / 🎃) ⭐ An animation is here. (🦢/🧚) ⭐

EP. 29 THE SHOPPING EPISODE

Frankenstein of your own making. (🧁) Give that genasi a stick! A SEXY ONE! (🧚 / 🎃)

EP. 30 PHANTOM OF THE HOPPERA

EP. 31 ELECTRUM CHEF

EP. 32 A FEAST FOR FROGS

EP. 33 UP THE WRONG TREE

EP. 34 A CHANGE OF HEART

"¿Y cuáles deseos me was a dar?" (🧚 / 🎃)

EP. 35 BEWARE THE FOREST MUSHROOMS

"What's your favourite scary movie? Boo, you whore. That's not... That's not a scary movie" (🧁)

EP. 36 THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENED

EP. 37 DREAD, BATH AND BEYOND

EP. 38 UNCLOG THE BOG

EP. 39 TOO MANY COOKS

EP. 40 STILL LIFE

EP. 41 THROWING SHADE

"That's life, That's what all the people say, You're riding high in April, shot down in May" (🦢)

EP. 42 ALL DOLLED UP

EP. 43 FUNGI'S NIGHT

EP. 44 MUSHROOM SAMBA

EP. 45 THROUGH THE HOURGLASS

"Eat your young before they eat you." (🎃)

EP. 46 THE JAWS THAT BITE

"Gresca i destrucció, riurem i ens penedirem, el cremarem el dimarts i patirem fins el diumenge." (🎃)

EP. 47 PLOT OF GREED

EP. 48 UP SHADE'S CREEK

EP. 49 THE LAST UNICORN

EP. 50

EP. 51

EP. 52

EP. 53

EP. 54

EP. 55

Born Guilty (🎃 / 🧁 )

🧚🧚🧚OH NO! 🧚🧚🧚🧚

🧚🧚Pixies are covering the way!🧚🧚🧚

OUTSIDE THE LOOP.

It takes two to trust, but only one to bleed. (🧁) Feliç dia de la Mercè, the weird sketchy carnival is in town. (🦢 / 🧚) What crisis are you on? (🧚) Kith and kin. /Aromantic week 2024/ (🎃) ---->ft. 🪻🪻BENEATH DARK WINGS🪻🪻 ---> ft. 💠💠ICEBOUND💠💠 ---> ft. 🥀🥀 EDGE OF MIDNIGHT🥀🥀 ---> ft.🌹CURSE OF STRAHDANYA🌹 ---> ft.✨✨STARDUST RHAPSODY ✨✨ ---> ft. 🌻🌻PRIME 🌻🌻 ⭐ They put the clown in the convention? (🦢 / 🧚) ⭐ If I don't go to hell when I die I might go to heaven (🎃) Te estoy amando locamente, Pero no sé cómo te lo voy a decir - LAS GRECAS (🧁) back to the office, baby (the last shift looks traumatized) (🧚/🎃) ---->ft. 🥀🥀 EDGE OF MIDNIGHT🥀🥀 It's pride month, baby! (2023) (🧚) Just, just don't go shopping, EVER (🧚/🎃) ---->ft. 🥀🥀 EDGE OF MIDNIGHT🥀🥀 Big Cat -- MORNING FROST (🧁) Some very out-of-context shitpost's. (🧚 / 🎃) A saint garden of lies and bones. (🎃 /🧁) Gideon Coal walked so buses would run (🧚) The 87 faces of a wagon. I PART 1I (🧁) Dental hygiene. (🧚 / 🎃) A blaze (🧁) OUT, just get out (🦢/🧚) "You made Uncle Kremy disappear? You took Uncle Kremy from Hootsie and left behind a doppelganger? OH, OH! JAIL FOR FATHER! JAIL FOR FATHER FOR ONE THOUSAND YEARS!" (🧚) Falling into the background. (🧁) THE WAGON AT THE END OF THE ROAD (🧚 / 🎃) ---> ft.🌹CURSE OF STRAHDANYA🌹 Cold-Blooded surrounded by heat lamps (🧚 / 🎃) Some human skin and bone (🧁) Surviving enough to start living again. (🎃) RIP the OUAW gang, they would have loved Eurovision 2023. (🧚 /🧁) There's some video in the funny pictures (🧚 / 🦢) Have more of these charts, but the conflict edition (🧚) My favourite part of Once Upon a Witchlight was when the Witchlight said "Once Upon a Wicthlight!" and Oncing Uponing a Witchlighting all around. (🧚) "Would you so kindly call the accused not guilty?" (🧚/🎃/🦢)

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #kremy lecroux #gideon coal #gricko grimgrin #hootsie the owl bear #hootsie grimgrin #torbek #morning frost #i just put all together #lets see how long it takes for me to forget about it-- #this makes this house a cave with laterns throw into the floor #it's burning? #it's burning #tw long post

[okamirayne]

OMG <3 So about this bit ''I can confirm that they had been very successful at concealing it, although by the time Heaven Hold Us starts (post War), these surviving characters know for certain:...'' - is it possible that you could give us some more details about how they found out/figured it out? <3

Hey there, @barasai 🧡

Regarding details! I can tell you that all the characters are going to reveal how they found out/figured it out in the upcoming chapters of HHU. That said...

Hinata knew first, before anyone else, as she suspected back in BtB, though never explicitly stated it to Shikamaru. Though it was implied in Break to Breathe when Shikamaru was getting ready to chase after Neji again (after the Gentle Fist head-trauma the Hyuuga gave him 😅 )

BTB CHAPTER 36 EXCERPT: [...] "I…I said he needed someone to help pull him back, but…" Hinata trailed off, recovering with a frown. "But I didn't think it would cost this much." "There's always a price." Shikamaru shrugged, the nonchalance so forced it felt like hefting rocks on his shoulders. "I knew that when I got into this." "But it's not the same…" Hinata said, her eyes blinking doe-like. "It's different now." Shikamaru arched a brow. "Nothing's changed." No sooner had he said it than Hinata's gaze took on a quality of calm understanding that struck him numb quicker than any lick of chakra to his nerves ever could. "Yes it has…" she whispered. Fuck…

So, there was Hinata's moment of "gotcha". Though she had grace enough not to announce it or disclose it to anyone else throughout the rest of the series. Sakura didn't cotton on in that scene, as it was so far beyond the scope of possibility or credulity given the urgency of what was happening.

As for the others: Kakashi, Genma, Ibiki, Temari, Sai, Tsuno, and Choza.

Their knowledge will be revealed in HHU (at least that's what my plot bunnies are showing me 😅...it's almost Easter, the bunnies can't lie...right? 😆 Right.)

Thanks for the ASK, luv! And for your interest in the BtB madness. Love and appreciate the awesome support! 🫶🏼💜xxx

#all shall be revealed #cue TBC music #steepled fingers and bwahaha #btb series #btb ask #btb characters ask #shikaneji ask #btb shikaneji ask #break to breathe series #break to breathe ask #shikaneji

[randomwritingguy]

The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader) Part 36

Y/N ALONE - PART ONE

Y/N’S POV

Wind rushes past my face as Spectre flies high into the air and dark sky at a speed that surpasses the speed of his previous flights.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

Korra has been gone for six months?! What happened to her?! Is she okay?! Is she safe?! Where is she?!

A low grumble emits from the bison’s mouth, its own way of questioning its human partner in their bond.

Where are we going? That’s what Spectre is trying to ask. A simple question. A simple fucking question.

And my answer?

“I don’t know, Spectre.” I mutter. Then, I shout into the night. “I DON’T KNOW!”

How am I supposed to find Korra when I have no damn clue where she is?

I rushed off without any plan, without any resources, and without telling my friends where I am going at all. They all must be worried sick.

I don’t have any food and drink with me. None at all. That’s a great way to quickly starve and dehydrate.

Should I turn back?

I look behind me and I see Air Temple Island, shrinking second by second as we get further and further away.

The temptation nearly takes me over. Logically, this is ridiculous. This is completely irrational. All the odds are against me. Really, I should turn back and plan with the others.

But…Korra has been gone for six months. She’s all alone. What if she’s been captured this entire time? What if she’s in danger?

The image of Tonraq holding a nearly dead Korra in his arms flashes in my mind’s eye and its all I can see. And, just like that, my decision has been made. Frowning in a determined gaze, I turn back to the open sea in front of me and I tighten my hold on the rope used to guide my bison.

“Keep a steady course, Spectre. Korra’s out there, somewhere. She might be in danger, and we must find her. I will find her. I don’t know how, but I will.”

“I will find you, Korra!”

I open my eyes and spin around in. No-one is here.

I’ve just finished counting to thirty seconds. There’s no way Korra managed to find a good hiding spot already, right?

Hmph. Well, if she did, it won’t matter. I’m the best seeker in the Southern Water Tribe! I’ll find her quicker than Prince Zuko found Avatar Aang during the war! I’ll show her!

I rush out of the room and look down left and right corners of the house. It doesn’t have much, just boring brown walls with little additions of paintings of some boring stuff I have no idea what are about.

Hm. Which way did she go? Left or right?

A short giggle echoes down the corridor from the right!

Ah ha! Korra is so bad at this!

“I’ve got you now, Korra!” I shout out and begin rushing down the corridor. “You may be the Avatar but you can be so easily caught!”

When I reach to the end of the corridor, I see two doors. One leads to the outside and the other to a very dark room.

Uh oh.

Knowing Korra, she would probably enter that one. She knows I get a bit scared in the dark so she thinks I won’t go in there! Well, I’ll show her!

I take a super, super deep breath and I charge!

“I’ve got you, Korra!”

I barge through the room and…

Nothing.

Huh?!

The room’s dark but I can see just enough and…there’s nothing. Just a bunch of boxes! Maybe she’s in the boxes?

I walk up to one of them and open the lid.

“BOO!”

“AH!”

I jump back and fall to the ground on my butt in shock!

Then, Korra starts laughing! LAUGHING!

“Hahaha, I got you!” She lets out, voice high. “You were like “I got you now!” and I was like “Boo!” and you were like “Ahh!”

UGH!

“Kooorrraaaa” I whine, getting up and brushing the dust from my clothes. I put my hands on my hips and I pout. “That’s not how you play hide and seek! You hide, I come and find you!”

“But its so borrriiinnnngggg sitting here and waiting for you to find me!” Korra whines back. “You’re so bad at being seeker, you would take hours to find me!”

WHAT?!

“I’m an amazing seeker!” I argue, crossing my arms.

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too-ughhh, you tricked me!”

That only makes Korra start laughing even harder, her head back in the air and arms holding her belly.

Ugh!

But then, I look at the box and a smile creeps onto my lips. I quickly rush around the box and push so Korra spills out of it like water!

“Hey!” Korra lets out.

I cross my arms and smirk. “That’s what you get for calling me a bad seeker!”

“Well, I’m the Avatar so, whatever!”

“Oh, here’s the “I’m the Avatar” card.”

“That’s it!”

She lunges at me and I fall to the ground on my back with her on top of me. We have a habit of play fighting and this is so different as we twist and turn, giggling as we do so.

“Admit you’re a bad seeker!”

“Never!”

Then, the door suddenly opens wide and orange light pours into the room. Three people stand by the door’s entrance. On the left I see Dad and the other two are White Lotus members. Uh oh.

“Y/N, your father is here to collect you.” The White Lotus Guard says. “Korra, you got to get back to preparing for your final waterbending test.”

Oh man. Playtimes over?

“Okay.” We both say sadly and we get up on the floor.

“Good luck on your waterbending test.” I tell her.

Korra just smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t need luck. I’m a waterbending master.”

I chuckle a bit and smile. I like seeing Korra so confident of herself. It makes me feel nice.

“Of course, Sifu Korra.” I tell her jokingly. Then, I pull her into a hug. She hugs me back even tigther and even lifts me up in the air.

After a few moments of silence, she puts me back down and we reluctantly let go of each other.

“Bye, Korra.”

Korra smiles softly. “Bye, Y/N.”

I walk up to Dad and we start leaving the compound.

“Did you have a fun time with Korra?” He asks me with a warm smile.

I nod really quickly. “Yep! We played a bunch of games! We played hide and seek before you guys came but Korra just wanted to scare me. She said I was a bad seeker too!”

Dad just chuckles and ruffles my hair. “Well, I think you are an amazing seeker. You always managed to find mum and I when we play together.”

See? Dad thinks I’m a great seeker!

“I tried to tell her that!” I huff out, then pout again. “She won’t believe me.”

Dad just ruffles my hair again. “Well, I suppose you would have to find and catch her next time.”

I smile. “You’re on it! I will! I’ll show her!”

Next time, Korra. Next time I will find you!

Hours. I have been awake for hours to the point that dawn has just broken loose and I’ve had no clue or trace or any idea how to find Korra.

And I’m fucking exhausted. So is Spectre. Each hour his flight speed decreases little by little. Now, he’s flying at the air bison equivalent of a snail’s pace.

Dammit.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a frustrated groan. “Land, Spectre. We need the rest.”

Rumbling in satisfaction, he lands us to a small clearing on a mountain surrounded by an army of trees. Then, I fall on my back and let my furry friend’s soft hair bring me to a welcoming darkness and I let myself fall into its arms like an old friend.

Images flash through my mind. Images of an Earth Kingdom town filled with standard homes and standard citizens. Poverty and dirt fill the dark alleys like a disease waiting to be unleashed from the shadows.

Another flash and the scene has changed. This time, it’s a much bigger building, similar to that of a warehouse. People surround the entrance with intrigue and excitement.

Again, the scene changes. Now, its an arena, decorated with green, gold and silver with a symbol of a powerful fist crushing rock in the centre, with a claustrophobic cage trapping it. The image lingers and, this time, I hear voices surrounding me.

“You know, you look very familiar. Yeah, you ... you kind of look like that Avatar girl!”

“I get that a lot.”

“Whatever happened to her anyway?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

That voice…

“KORRA!”

I leap forward as my shout echoes across the mountains, so loud that it results in a scattering of birds. Spectre roars in panic at being abruptly awoken at the sound of my scream. Panting frantically with sweat flowing down my face like a waterfall, I bury my face into my hands.

That was Korra’s voice. That was definitely Korra’s voice. But those images…

When I fully joined the Air Nation and began my studies and training, I focused a lot on trying to gain more visions in hopes of finding any more clues on what the vision I experienced when Korra and I were held captive by Tarrlok was about. I barely remembered any of it. Future visions I had had the same fate, I barely remembered it.

Now, though? Now, I’m glad to know I was able to remember all of it.

It’s a clue. Korra was definitely in the Earth Kingdom and she was definitely fighting in what seemed to be an arena. But why? What for? Did Korra just…give up and start fresh?

No. No, don’t be stupid. Korra doesn’t give up. No, there’s got to be a good reason why she was there. Maybe she was forced to fight? But her conversation with that man didn’t appear like she was forced. So, what?

Releasing my face, I look back up and the black-orange sky is now gone, replaced by the blueish ocean high above symbolising that it is now midday. I have been asleep for a good amount of time. Now, I’m recharged.

Spectre grumbles in a questioning tone. Are you okay?

“I’m okay, Spectre.” I tell him, patting him. “I just had a vision. We now have a clue on where Korra is.”

From the vision, I saw that the town was right by the infamous woods and swamps. And, I have a feeling I will let the universe guide me to the right location. Just follow my gut.

“Let’s get going, boy. Yip yip.”

TIME SKIP

After a few hours of exploring the kingdom, I find it. The town looks just like what it did in my visions. Average rundown buildings with alleys littered with rubbish. We ride past it for a few minutes, trying to find that one building that housed the cage fight. It takes a while but eventually a find it.

“We’re here, Spectre.” I tell him. “Good job. You stay up here. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

After a grumble of acknowledgement, I flip off the air bison and with my airbending I propel myself like a fireball towards the building. Then, just before I hit the ground, I flip forward and spin around, slowing my speed until, finally, I land gracefully on the ground. As I do so, I see a number of citizens around me gazing at me with awe, jaws dropped in amazement.

I ignore their looks. Instead, I march towards my destination and head inside the building. After a few quick steps, I am greeted by a familiar site: An arena surrounded by a silver-grey cage, filled with colours of forest-green and golden-yellow with a powerful symbol of a intimidating fist destroying a piece of earth with its power.

This is the place all right. This is where Korra was. But now the questions are just resurfacing. Why was she here? Was she forced to fight? Or did she come here on her own accord?

“Oh, uh, you’re an Air Nomad!”

I turn to the left at the sound of the familiar voice. He’s a skinny man wearing a dark green jacket of some sorts with a shirt of a lighter shade of the same colour underneath as well as a grey, unkempt and baggy trousers. As for his face, he has a short and narrow spiky black hair with a thin black moustache and dark brown eyes. His sharp eyebrows are raised in surprise at seeing an Air Nomad of all people in such a violent setting.

That voice. I know that voice. It’s the one from the vision. This is the man who talked to Korra.

I approach the figure with a glare. “Are you in charge of this establishment?”

The sound of my steel voice causes him to back away a bit. Then, realising that he’s making a fool of myself, leans forward and stands straighter in an attempt to appear confident. “I am. What’s this about?”

“I am here to discuss about one of your fighters.” I tell him. “Specifically, one from a recent fight.”

Clearly my answer isn’t what he was expecting as he frowns slightly in confusion. “Uh, sure. But you do realise how many fighters come here, right? I don’t keep a log or anything.”

Dammit. Just when I thought I couldn’t run in any more problems Still, any bit of information will be useful.

“I am aware.” I lie so I don’t betray my intimidating image. “However, the one I am looking for will be easy for you to remember. Did you hire a fighter that looked like Avatar Korra?”

“Uh, yeah.” He says, confusion growing. “I did. She came in, asked to enter, got her butt kicked, I paid her, and she went on her way.”

So, she did come here on her own accord. But why? Surely, it couldn’t have been for money.

“Did you see where she went?”

The frown on the man’s face increases. “What’s this about?”

“Did you see where she went?” I repeat, adding further steel to my voice. I don’t have time to answer this guy’s question.

“No, I didn’t!” The man sputters, leaning back slightly in anxiousness. “I don’t track my clients!”

I look away from the man and mutter a curse under my breath. Dammit!

I guess that means I have to ask around if anyone’s seen Korra which might take a while. Terrific.

“What did she look like?”

“Blue eyes, short hair, wearing green.” He lists off. “She wasn’t Avatar Korra, right? She fought terribly!”

I shoot a glare back at the man and he silences himself immediately.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” I tell him professionally. “You will not reveal the details of this conversation to anyone. Is that understood?”

He nods. “Yep! You got it! Understood!”

I nod in return and, just like that, I walk back into the outside world.

Korra might still be in this town. Somewhere. She’s also trimmed her hair. Huh, Korra with short hair. Never thought that would happen.

I glance at my dark skinned hands that surround the bold and blue arrow tattoos that symbolise my mastery of airbending. I changed too…in more ways than one.

Staring into my eyes I see only oblivion, a sad darkness emanating over them. But that darkness is overwhelmed by the brightness that covers my skin.

Glancing upwards at my reflection from the dark ocean to the large, tattooed arrow on my forehead that stretches all way down my back. Moving my arms upward, I examine the same arrows on my hands.

It’s official. I am an airbending master. The first master of the Harmonic Convergence airbenders. The first master of the new airbenders.

The official ceremony of my ascension has been over for hours now. Everyone has either gone back to Republic City or gone to sleep on Air Temple Island. It was great. It was really great.

And yet…

Two years. It’s been two years since I’ve spoken to Korra and my parents. None of them were here to see me in my proudest moment of being an Air Nomad.

As much as I enjoyed and was honoured by it all, their absence amplified the emptiness in my heart. I really, really wish they were there.

Tears land directly on the arrows and my hands tremble.

Dammit.

“Y/N?”

Jinora!

Wiping the tears away, I turn to the source of the voice. Standing a few meters before me is Jinora in her pyjamas. Her hair is blowing elegantly in the wind and her eyes wash with concern.

“Jinora.” I greet in a neutral tone, hoping to not betray my sadness. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

She shakes her head and she walks a few steps forward until she reaches my side, both of us standing at the very edge of the port of the island, pointing in the direction of the mystical and glowing golden lights of Republic City.

I turn back to gaze at the city alongside her, my cape breezing in the wind. The wind also brings a new chilly feeling to my now shaven head and I rub it a bit.

“Not used to it, right?” Jinora asks with amusement.

I chuckle, grateful at the attempt to lighten the somewhat sombre mood. “Yeah. I never thought I would go bald. I have to say, I’m really not liking the look. Can’t wait to get my beautiful hair back.”

The younger airbender laughs. “That’s exactly how I felt when my hair was shaven.“ she says as she touches a strand of hair and placing it away from her face. “I was relieved when I finally grew out my hair again.”

I hum in acknowledgement. “That was two years ago. It’s crazy how fast time has passed. Sometimes it feels like my life is riding on the fastest satmobile in the world.”

“I get what you’re feeling.” Jinora says. “With my new role as a master, I’ve gotten a lot of new responsibilities which means I’ve been too busy to notice the passage of time.”

“Well, now I am a master, we can share the responsibilities and your busy time could be halved. I’m sure Kai would really like that.”

Even in the night sky, I can see the red tinge on Jinora’s cheeks. “Shut up.”

“No, really.” I assure her. “He would. I know you would too.”

“I will.” She agrees, a smile forming on her lips. “There are times where we’ve been so busy that we barely spend time together. Not to mention the times where Kai or I have to go somewhere. But we’re doing good.”

I smile. “You love him, don’t you?”

Her blush deepens and shyly looks away. “I…I think I do. I know, its silly because of how young I am but…”

“Hey, your grandparents were around your age when they got together.” I assure her. “If you love him, you love him. Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

She glances back up at me and her smile widens. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And, in my opinion, I think he loves you too.”

And just like that, she blushes again.

I chuckle and I turn back to gaze back at the city. We stand there in a comfortable silence for a minute or two, the gentle wind acting as a soothing cool rather than a frozen current.

“You were thinking about Korra and your parents, weren’t you?” Jinora eventually asks with caution, careful not to disrupt the calmness of the situation.

I sigh heavily. “Am I that easy to read?”

“I’m a good guesser and you’re deflecting.”

I snort. Smart.

“Yeah. I was.” I answer her. “Its been two years since I spoken to any of them and they were not on the best terms. Not seeing them at my ceremony was…very difficult to handle.”

I turn back to her and give her a reassuring smile. “But I did have a good time. Really, I did. All of you there made me feel very proud of myself. I know all airbenders are our family but, really, I can only really say that to a select few. Team Avatar is my family but nowadays its just Mako, Asami, and I, and whenever Mako goes Prince Wu follows and you know how I feel about that. But, to be honest, since I stopped talking to my mum and dad, Tenzin and Pema have been second parents to me. And I care about Ikki, Meelo, and Rohan, I really do, but Jinora…you’re like a little sister to me. So, thank you. For everything.”

Immediately, two strong arms wrap around my waist and Jinora pulls herself to me in a tight hug, head pressed to my chest. I bent down slightly and hug her back, feeling a comfortable warmth swarming me.

“You’re the older sibling I never had.” Jinora says, her speech muffled but the family love obvious. “Thank you.”

My smile widens and all the bitterness I felt mere moments ago has now been vanquished, replaced by my love for my new family.

When we finally release from each other, much colder air blows against us and Jinora shivers. Best we don’t stay out here any longer.

“We should probably get some shut eye. We have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”

Jinora nods in agreement. “Yeah.”

Then, a smug smile forms on her lips and, all of a sudden, she dashes toward the island in a run. “Race you to the entrance!”

“Hey, that’s cheating!” I exclaim with a grin as I dash after her.

Times have changed. I have changed. But I know I will always have a family.

I have been exploring this town, asking strangers, exploring every dark alley I can find and I have found NOTHING!

Where in the spirits has Korra ran off too?!

DAMMIT!

I reach to the end of the town where nothing but forests lie ahead. Those trees stretch out forever, its practically a maze in there.

But, then, a thought comes to my mind.

Could…Could Korra be there?

I take a few steps towards the forest until I reach the very edge to the entrance of the labyrinth of green and wood.

I don’t see why Korra would go there but…maybe its worth a shot? I mean, I haven’t found anything in the town. It won’t hurt to quickly look around some of the forest, right? Maybe some clues might be there.

I take a step forward and place my hand on the trunk of one of the trees-

-AND A BLINDING LIGHT CONSUMES ME!

WHAT’S GOING ON?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!

But the light fades and, in my mind’s eye, I see only one image…

A small, singular island. An Island I recognise all too well from the books I’ve read.

And, like that, the image is gone and I return to the here and now. My hand is still on the trunk of the tree.

That…That’s the first time a vision has happened when I’m not meditating or sleeping. This…This is new.

But, that doesn’t matter. No. This has got to be a clue where Korra went off to. It’s got to be! Why else would I have been given that vision? I don’t know why she’s there, but I’m about to find out.

I take one last glance at the silent woods and I turn and rush off to get to Spectre. When I finally meet up with him, I hop onto him and grab the rope to steer him to another direction.

The air bison lets out a questioning grumble. Where are we going?

I frown in determination.

“We’re going to Kyoshi Island.”

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

And that's it!

I hope you all enjoyed it!

Feedback is appreciated!

See you all in the next chapter! :D

#korra #the legend of korra #legend of korra #avatar the legend of korra #avatar korra #korra x reader #avatar korra x reader #tlok x reader #TLOK #avatar: tlok #avatar tlok #original character #jinora #unrequited love #unrequited #unrequited crush #unrequited feelings #unrequited pining #Self Insert #onesided #one sided love #fanfiction #angst #fluff #humour #fanfic #reader #reader insert #x reader #friends

[blueeyedheizer]

aaaaa congrats on 1.6k!! could you do prompts #31 and #36 for cassie x reader?

#31 "she’s everything i ever wanted, but i don’t want to risk losing her as a friend."

#36 "i heard what you said...no one's ever talked about me that way before.."

the second half of this is so fucking bad im so sorry omg

"No, you just... you don't get it Kat." you sighed as you closed your locker, leaning your head against it. You were getting tired of explaining the many reasons why a relationship would never work between you and Cassie. "For the hundredth time, Cassie is not into girls."

"You don't know that." Kat argued.

"My God, just—" you groaned. "Look, I know Cassie, okay? All she does is talk about boys and how handsome they are and how she can't wait to meet the one for her. Cassie Howard. is. not. into. girls." you whisper-yelled those last words, but not without checking your surroundings beforehand to make sure no one could hear.

"You really like her don't you?" Kat smirked.

"She drives me fucking crazy, Kat. I get literal butterflies in my stomach when she walks by. She's so kind, and sweet. She always listens when I need someone to talk to. She's the best friend anyone could ask for. And don't even get me started on how beautiful she is. She's just—ugh," you groaned, shaking your head when realizing your were rambling. You apologized quietly, to which Kat only smiled.

"Look.....why don't you just talk to her? Just try and flirt with her and see how it goes. Maybe ask Maddy if she knows anything." Kat suggested, shrugging.

"No, I can't— I can't let her know. She’s everything I ever wanted, but i don’t want to risk losing her as a friend. I don't think I could handle that."

Kat sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, letting a comfortable silence settle between the two of you.

“Are you coming to Maddy's birthday party tonight?" she eventually asked.

"Yeah. Duh." you chuckled.

"Well, you know Cassie will be there too. I think you should tell her. The longer you wait, the harder it'll become."

"Nah, just—" you shook your head, closing your eyes. "Forget it, Kat. Really. It's not worth it."

-

The evening came quicker than you expected and before you knew it found yourself standing on the porch of Maddy's house, tugging on your dress as you waited for her to open the door.

But to your surprise, it wasn't Maddy who welcomed you inside. It was Cassie. You almost chocked on your saliva at the sight of her; she was wearing the absolute hottest pink swimsuit, her damp hair clinging to her bare shoulders.

"Hey Y/N/N." she beamed and immediately pulled you into a hug, which you gladly reciprocated.

"Hi Cass."

She let you in and you began to greet everyone, giving Maddy an extra long hug and wishing her a happy birthday when you spotted her inside the kitchen as she prepared the drinks with Kat and a few other guests — which you assumed were friends of her friends.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice sounded from behind you, catching your attention. You turned around to be met with Cassie, who had a shy smile on her lips. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

You nodded and turned to Kat, who simply winked your way as you followed Cassie upstairs.

-

You could tell Cassie was nervous as she sat down on Maddy's bed, her clammy hands rubbing up and down along her bare thighs.

"What is it, Cass?" you wondered, taking a seat next to her. You took a better look at her and frowned. Her eyes looked puffy and she was sweating, which you hadn't noticed until now. Was she...was she drunk already?

"I just... I just wanted to say.." she stammered, taking a deep breath. "I heard what you said today, at school...no one's ever talked about me that way before.."she finally admitted, turning her head to face you.

You were speechless, to say the least. Your jaw hung open for a moment, all while you racked your brain to try and find the right words, unsuccessfully. Seeing you weren't responding, Cassie continued. "I'm not... I'm not just into boys. I think. All I know is, I'm into you and I really, really want to kiss you right now, Y/N."

...

...

...

Holy shit.

#cassie howard x fem!reader #cassie howard x reader #cassie howard #cassie howard fanfic #euphoria x reader #euphoria hbo #euphoria imagine

[tyo-mimt]

19/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Mikey remembers that asking for help is okay.

Mikey wouldn't say he's overprotective or defensive about the kitchen, but he'd be lying if he said he trusted his brothers with dinner. It wasn't an attack on them as people, but the three of them had different ways of cooking, and Leo would probably be the closest to a legitimate chef, if it wasn't for the missing hand and the hazard a highly explosive prosthetic would pose to the kitchen (thanks, Donnie).

Besides, he enjoyed making food for the whole family, and it wasn't like any of them were going to complain about not being able to eat.

Though, today was a particularly hard day.

His hands shook as he handled the pan, liquid sloshing out as he fought his body to cooperate.

He tried drawing before, but they looked sketchier; it wasn't the artistic kind either, the dissonance between his mind's eye and action discouraging him further. He tried helping Donnie with an invention, but the tremors in his hands caused a wire to melt; he wasn't officially banished from the lab yet, but there was the implication. He even tried to accompany Raph with a training session, but the jitters kept him from focusing; Raph officially banished him from the garage until the bad streak ended.

So where was he now? Struggling to make a simple soup for his family in the kitchen, pushing his frustrations to the back of his mind as he attempted to focus on the task at hand.

He bit his tongue, eyes narrowing as he eventually managed to place the pan down on the stove without spilling anything. He let out a sigh of relief, stepping back only to trip over on a soapy sponge. He wasn't able to catch himself, impacting causing him to kick the cabinet in front of him and topple over a precariously piled stack of dirty pans. It's easy to guess where they all fell.

The sound of metal clattering unceremoniously onto the box turtle alerted the other three turtles, immediately rushing in to lift the dirty dishes from Mikey's fallen body.

"Who was supposed to do the dishes?" Mikey questioned, trying and failing not to sound accusatory.

Raph and Donnie immediately turned to look at Leo; the slider scowled incredulously, "Hey! I dropped the sponge and was dragged out of the kitchen by the Caseys! Well, just Cassandra specifically."

"Never mind that," Raph groaned, facepalming with that typical flavour of big brother disappointment, before extending a hand to Mikey with a soft smile, "Let's just focus on helping Mikey out."

"Right, we don't want him turning into us," Donnie drawled, only to get jabbed in the elbow by Leo.

"We definitely don't want that," Leo rolled his eyes, crossing his arm over his plastron. Mikey laughed a little, lifting his hand up. It shook, a reminder of what caused this to begin with... Ah, but it didn't matter. He took the hand extended to him, being pulled up. The mess on the ground promptly cleaned up and the wet sponge thrown into the closest trash can, they continued to cook.

Raph helped wash the rest of the dishes, Leo kept track of the soup to make sure it didn't overboil, and Donnie cut up a various array of vegetables as Mikey flew across the cupboards for any seasonings he missed. They finished quicker than Mikey expected, just in time for their regularly scheduled dinner time. Dad (Splinter) came back with other dad (Draxum) from a small exploration of New York, immediately welcomed with the smell of warm stew.

It was dysfuctional, maybe a little broken, but Mikey wouldn't trade it for the world.

#rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #candle night #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie