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targaryenluvs · 5 months

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LONELY WATERS

pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.

warnings: nude swimming, nc voyeurism, stalking, scaring someone, inappropriate touching, chasing in waters, threatening and manipulation?? false misconceptions about victors, nc kissing and implied sexual intimacy and technically kidnapping?? (not forever) passing out from exhaustion due to sexual relations

a/n: THE VOICES 👹👹 italics is your thoughts!!! not proofread!

the water was cold, just how you liked it.

you’d been taking care of your cousin davine who’d literally put a hole in her finger trying to spin around the finnick odair’s trident since it was on display in a local gallery. but she’d overestimated her strength, let go of it whilst it was still in the air and it sliced her good. you met her outside as you’d been getting groceries and scolded her the whole way to the hospital.

“are you crazy? did you honestly think you could handle such a weapon on a whim? why the hell would you want to hold it anyways it’s just a trident.” you investigated as she whined and moaned, “why wouldn’t i want to y/n? it’s finnick! i just didn’t know it’d be that difficult.” you sighed as you halted her walking, bending down to look up at her, “i know it seems super cool okay. but the things he went through? the reason he has that trident? not cool. don’t idolise the games and the victors. the games are barbaric and those poor victors live their lives because the capitol lets them. i don’t want you anywhere near them okay? they’re dangerous.”

davine shook her head, “how? they’re just victors, they had to kill to win the games you know that y/n.” you sighed again, “they’re not dangerous because of the games they’re dangerous because of their time in the capitol. they care about themselves, after the hunger games they’ll probably do anything to keep themselves safe. act nice to us, earn our trust and support i- it doesn’t matter, just try not to go around him okay?”

finnick was watching you from the balcony as you explained your worries to davine. now now, who’d gone and told you all those lies? he wasn’t dangerous, as long as you were on his good side.

honey, he’d show you dangerous.

as you took off your dress you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you, so you stopped. your head zipped around , trying to look for a glimpse, a person, an animal, something. but you couldn’t see anything. and that should’ve been your first sign. someone that you could hear but not see.

as you lowered yourself into the water you felt at ease. the water was the one place you were by yourself. you thought you were. everyday had you, and everyone, surrounded by people all day. but here? peace.

“isn’t it dangerous at this time of night honey?” finnick emphasised as your hands shot up to cover your top half. “don’t hide now, i was enjoying the view.” you couldn’t believe your eyes, finnick odair, in the flesh. god the screens didn’t do him justice. i get it davine, why you wanted to hold the trident. his eyes were so green.

“w-what are you doing here?” finnick tilted his head as he crossed his arms, still on the land, “can’t i come down here? if i knew it was reserved i wouldn’t have come, but it isn’t, and i can do as i please. you never know who’s around sweetheart, not the best idea to come out alone.” you didn’t even notice that he was slowly taking off his own clothes till he was walking your way. “i swim here every night. no one’s ever here.” he was in the water now, and you’d begun to slowly back away, the water engulfing you slowly. chest, shoulders, neck. “well that’s going to change, don’t you wanna swim with me?” you shook your head as he mimicked you, shaking his head slowly, “no? you gonna stop me?” he was making his way towards you, cutting through the water like glass.

you were hyperventilating and your mind was foggy. you obviously weren’t thinking properly since instead of swimming towards the shore you swam further out. you could hear his laugh as you began to swim, “do you really think you can swim away from me? the place in which i excel? i’ve chased down tributes in water, fit, healthy and much more athletic than you. trust me, you’ll tire yourself out before you get any further.” but you didn’t listen, all you could do was try.

the rocks were large and created a huge wall, it was a rocky area of the beach which you were using as refuge from finnick. if there was one thing you never expected it was this, being chased by finnick odair through opens waters for- what, exactly? you had no clue.

you’d mistakenly began to relax, thinking you’d lost him when you dove under the water but the unrelenting pressure on your ankle had you wailing as you were yanked under the water. your eyesight was muffled and muggy, but you knew who’d dragged you under. finnick swam back to the surface, his hands right around you.

“should’ve listened to me.” he smiled, perfect teeth on show, barely puffed out, where as you felt as if your heart was going to burst from exhaustion and fatigue or plain fright. “now, i’m going to make sure, you remember me, remember what i’m going to do, and will continue to do.” you were sure his face was going to haunt you, everywhere you went. every time you saw a trident, even a damn fork. blonde hair and green eyes would send you spiralling every time you plucked them out from a crowd.

your tears were hot and streaming as you felt his hands roam, lower and lower. the rocks cut you as he pushed you into them, manipulating you into the positions he wished for. your body was so cold but his presence was like fire, his hands were warm and undeniable as they grabbed and kneaded at soft skin. his kisses were unrelenting and you were sure he’d leave a trail of bruises all over you in his wake.

you’d passed out at some point of the night, you were in the water, then on the rocks, then on the land yet you woke up in an unfamiliar home. maybe someone found you laying on the ground, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left you there, naked and ruined.

what were you going to do? if he approached you in public? in private? in your home? who in panem would believe your truth? that finnick odair, the capitols darling was capable of such unbelievable, vile actions. they’d probably turn it around you. he’d let them.

at least he’s not here. you thought to yourself, you could do your best to avoid him. it’s not like there aren’t plenty of women, gorgeous girls that could take his attention. he’d probably picked out another girl to go after, to charm and take the normal way.

your thoughts had taken you away from the present, the present being you laying besides someone. their muscular arm draped over your waist, the sheets covered your and his bare body. “had a good sleep did you?” finnick murmured into your neck as you froze up.

no no no no no. please no.

“yes honey. you’re here with me. now let me hold you.” he whispered as he pulled you into his chest, cautious of your patched up cuts. everything hurt. your shoulders, arms, thighs. your hands traced over the bite marks, the skin all over you, tainted.

just wishing for lonely waters in which you could relax led to you be trapped in his arms. and he sure as hell wasn’t letting you go. not when you brung him so much pleasure, yeah, he’d be using you for a while, if not forever.

if only you’d been nicer.

#dark!finnick odair x reader #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #hunger games x reader #finnick odair x female reader #finnick odair x fem!reader

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prettiestgrlinthemorguexo · 3 months

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fic where baker reader and lucifer both really like each other but are too scared to admit their feelings so reader makes him a cupcake with a frosting duck on top as a surprise

Sweet duckcakes ( Lucifer Morningstar x Baker! Reader)

Thank you for the request anonymous! This is such a cute idea myself!!! Feel free to leave more request

Idk why but I feel like Lucifer would love the duck cake from Bluey.

I legit accidentally deleted this half way through writing it, I could cry

NOT PROOF READ!!

Warnings: stealing my baker reader stuff on how they started working in the hotel from my last fic, season 2 headcanon

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV:

Y/N has been working in the Hazbin hotel since day one, only then it was called ‘Happy Hotel’ Charlie employed them to be the head chef, prepare meals of staff and residents. It also meant Y/N could stay rent free so they accepted. Only then, back when it was only them, Charlie, Vaggie and the only resident, Angel dust. But as time has past, the Hotel has become more lively. Alastor, Husk and Nifty join the staff and another resident named Sir Pentious.

Even though Y/N was happy to see Charlie’s dreamed come true, but with each new person in the hotel mean more and more food to make, they were almost nearly in the kitchen all the time but they didn’t mind.

With the extermination looming closer, Charlie had no choice but to call her dad for help. Y/N was happy to know he accepted to come, To prepare for his visit Charlie asked Y/N to bake for his visit, which they happily did. They quickly run into the kitchen with Nifty following behind, she wanted to make cookies. Y/N and Nifty baked away, while nifty worked on cookies, Y/N chose cupcakes!

Nifty finshed first and ran into the main room while they stay behind so they could decorate the cupcakes. After 30 minutes they were done and they took them to the main room. As they turned the corner they see a rather weird sight…Alastor and Lucifer is a battle on who’s the better father. Y/N kinda stood there watching the two with everyone else till they were interrupted by someone named Mimsy, this finally allowed them to meet Lucifer.

“Dad, this Y/N, our head chef!” Charlie moves her dad over to them and they give a sweet smile to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you your majesty.”, as they said this they moved their tray to one hand and extended their now free hand, they took notice of Lucifer’s small blush. He took your hand, Y/N couldn’t help but notice his soft hands, “please call me Lucifer.” He said to you with a smile. “Why thank you..” they said to him as they remembered the treats. “Oh!” They said mainly to themself, they hold out the tray. “Please take one I made these for your visit.”

Lucifer took the treat in his hand looking over it, it had red frosting with a little apple slice in it. “Why thank you.” Lucifer said as he took one of the frosted treat and took a bite of it. He eyes life up as he tasted it. “This is amazing!” He said as he ate, Y/N couldn’t help but feel their heart race as this words. “They’re’s a reason they are the head chef! Now to the rest of the hotel,” Charlie continued to speak and show off the hotel. Y/N place the tray down on the nearby table and as they turn they couldn’t help but notice his eyes on them, they blushed and felt their own heart race.

Little did they know that was only the beginning. After his eventful visit, where him and Charlie both agreed to make an effort, he was in the hotel more. While he spent time with his daughter he always saw Y/N, he was great company to have, always so sweet. It was hard to admit they had growing feeling for him, how could they? He was her bosses father and the king of hell.

It only became worst after the hotel was destroyed and was rebuilt, during the process of rebuilding it, Lucifer moved in. Though Y/N believed it would be a blessing in disguise. You guys were frequently hanging out together, he was always so sweet, he loved to help cook and back with you. Y/N was very thankful for that considering how many more people were not in the hotel, but, this only has their feeling grow more…both their feelings. Lucifer would be lying if he said he didn’t like Y/N they were a dove…the light in the dark.

There were many nights they work yourself too hard and feel alseep in the kitchen only to wake up on one of the couches with a blanket they recognized…it belong to Lucifer. Each time they wanted to keep it, it smelled just like him, but, each time they returned it. They leave it folded with a nice little note. Lucifer loved the notes keeping them in a box, he also sleeps with each blanket, he smell of your are your perfume is intoxicating.

Though pretty much everyone was aware of both their feelings for each other neither would admit it, so in fashion of the residents of the hotel, they decided to help by dropping small (rather obvious) hints, though Charlie was the most discreet about her hints, mainly at hinting at things to you both like, similar interests you things both like. One thing Y/N took of something from Charlie’s and from Lucifer himself…he seem to really love ducks, from gifting them rubber ducks and leaving rubber ducks around the hotel.

One night after making up on the couch with a certain blanket on them, they had to thank him and a perfect idea came into their head. They Return the blanket back with another note, Y/N quickly made their way into the kitchen, ready to bake their morning away for Lucifer’s surprise.

TIME SKIP

Lucifer woke up to the sound of soft knocking, he recognized this knock, it was Y/N’s. He quickly shot up out of his bed running to the door. He nearly swung open the door to see your face, what a perfect thing to make up to, “good morning do-“ Lucifer stopped mid sentence noticing a gray with a cover in their hands, he looked back up at their E/C eyes. “What’s that?” He asked curiously. Y/N could help but smile he looked so handsome after waking up. (He wears duckie pajamas.) “may I come in?” Y/N asked happily, Lucifer blushed softly and nodded his head moving out of the way of the door “o-of course come in!”

Y/N walked in admiring his room, it was so elegant looking, they then turned to face him “I want to say thank you for always taking care of me, not leaving me to sleep in the kitchen floor means a lot to me, so, I want to say thank you.” They said as they placed the tray down on the dresser. “And I know you love ducks so..” Y/N them wiped off the cover revealing 6 cupcakes! Not just any cupcakes, they were Vanilla cupcakes with yellow frosting and on top were little ducks made of frosting. Lucifer looked wides eyed at them, before look at their smiling face. “You made these for me?” He asked softly.

“Of course!” They said happily, you’ve always helped me out and you mean a lot to me..” Lucifer stay quiet before quickly hugging them tight. “Thank you Y/N..” he said softly, the hug caught Y/N by surprise but they quickly hugged back a soft blush on their face. “Anything for you..”

Tag list

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @aarkhamkknight @pooplyface1423 @purplethree @dog55teeth

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar #fanfic

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wandering-tides · 2 months

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People always rank either Ei or Zhongli (or both) above Venti in power rankings. Like, who is the strongest archon? There are always two answers: Morax or Beelzebul. Never Barbatos.

I like to think otherwise.

This guy has cut mountains with his winds and thrown them so far away into the sea, made winter disappear and turned Mond into what it is today: from a barren rocky land that used to be filled with snow and raging blizzards into this green plain field with gentle winds where agriculture is so much easier then it ever was back then. I don't think people of Old Mond could have ever imagined for Mond to turn into what it is today.

But he still calls himself weak. And people took that to face value. And some still do despite it being proven otherwise by Nahida.

Venti said that an archon derives their power from ruling over their nation. But Nahida denies this later and says that archons gain their power through the faith of the people.

Clearly, Venti lied to us.

And if we go by what Nahida said,,,, Every freakin person in Mond has faith in the Anemo archon. They sing praises of him despite not having been in the presence of their god for 5 centuries. He has a statue and a Cathedral (who else has that?).

So, Venti is Strong.

Remember his gnosis is in the shape of a queen chess piece? Queen has the most freedom on the board. Venti's ideals are freedom. And his element is anemo. Anemo is the free-est element out there.

He might as well suck the air out of your lungs if he so wants to. He governs over it.

My point is, Venti is overpowered.

And let's not forget how that little wind wisp gained archon hood.

It was his desire to protect that helped him into becoming a god. When the nameless bard died, he felt the need to protect whats left. To protect what his friend died fighting for.

And its a pretty cliche concept out their about how a hero grows stronger, in any story. Its their need to protect. Right?

And Venti still wants to protect Mond- despite him saying otherwise. He shows up everytime Mond is in danger. Whether directly or indirectly, he always helps out.

So here is what I think. The reason why he calls himself weak.

Its because he is so strong, strong enough to scare Celestia. So Celestia has put him on some sort of leash. He can't use his powers in it's entirety. There is probably some sort of seal.

So Venti is weak.

Because he can't use all of his powers. Because he is chained to Celestia's whim.

Venti is weakest of the seven because he is the only one who has some sort of leash on him.

The god of freedom, chained.

Plus, it can definitely not be a coincidence that the defiled statue was of Barbatos, out of all the seven. Chained, hanging up-side down and corrupted.

And the fact that the abyss order was going to use Barbatos (chained) statue to create a machine to "topple the divine thrones of Celestia."

None of that can be a coincidence. Knowing hoyoverse, it definitely isn't.

So yeah. Venti is definitely not weak. He just can't use the full extent of his powers as of right now.

Venti is strong, but also weak. If he isn't chained- he is easily the strongest.

He can slice the mountains and throw them far into sea- if Zhongli throws a big peice of meteor on him, venti should be able to cut it in half too. if he has all his power on him that is.

I really hate it when people call him weak just because he said so himself. Especially when it's been proven that we shouldn't take his words to face value.

He is not like our sweet little Nahida, people.

#also #i feel like we are going to see something about this in his second story quest #there is *always* lore drops when he appears.#however big or small #venti #barbatos #genshin barbatos #genshin venti #character analysis #genshin impact venti #genshin analysis #genshin impact lore #genshin impact #archon venti

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vidavalor · 5 months

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I think you're the fifth blogger I've seen mention Shax's thing for Crowley... I still can't see it even though I really want to 'cause I think it's hilarious... send help... 🤣🥲😔

I can try lol. Chocolate cake? *slices*

More fun with Shax and Crowley under the cut. We're also going to look at part of Gabriel & Sandalphon's visit to the bookshop in S1 for some bonus fun since it fit in here as it's a parallel scene.

TW: Brief mention of Sandalphon and his homophobia.

For the most part, Shax isn't really in love with Crowley... she's just got a Mr. Brown-level pash on the Crowley that Crowley projects. While Aziraphale hides that he's an angel from the human world so Mr. Brown only believes him to be human, Crowley hides the extent to which he's human and living like one from the demons in Hell. As a result, the demon pursuing him has got exactly one thing correct about Crowley-- that he's hot lol-- but Shax's opinions as to why only partially overlap with ours and Aziraphale's because Shax believes Crowley's big reputation. She doesn't know what we know about him or see him the way we do. Like Mr. Brown with Aziraphale, she exists in part to highlight how insular Crowley & Aziraphale's world of their life together is and how much they have to playact in their respective worlds to keep that secret life they have with one another private and intact.

Shax is a demon who loves being a demon. That's what makes her crazy to us. Most of the other demons we've met are just miserable, even if they're playing along, but Shax is a real go-getter. She's ambitious and she lives to serve their master Satan. She wants to be good at being a demon and she's in love with *Crowley* lol. To us, this seems bananas because ain't no demon ever hated being a demon more than Anthony Jemimah Crowley... but it's proof positive of how decent a job Crowley has been doing at projecting an air of general demonicness for the last six thousand years.

Crowley has been a prince of Hell forever. He's gotten the top jobs-- the stuff of Shax's dreams, really-- and was a particular favorite of Satan, whom Shax worships. He was basically Hell's resident rock star, breezing in every few months to give a demonic presentation and shoot the shit in Lord Beezlebub's office for a half-hour before taking off for Earth again. If you were Shax, spending literally *thousands of years* in that overstuffed, dark, actual hell hole, Crowley showing up must have been like a visit from sexy Santa Claus. Shax is one of those Effort-making demons and most of the demons in Hell are more terrifying than attractive, ok?... even if you find terrifying attractive, like Shax sorta does or at least thinks she ought to.

Who's going to light your fire down there? Hastur? He'd *literally* light you on fire....

We've seen Shax have to deal with misogyny in the workplace (ugh Demon Josh) and you know she never got any of that shit from Crowley. She probably mostly got a "Shaaaaax! How's it hangin'?" from Disco Tony, who was thrilled to have remembered her name this time. Shax was playing it evil demon lady cool on the surface but girl just wants to be first string for the finest demon in Hell and she was swooning internally every time Crowley swooped in to grace Hell with his presence for a hot minute.

There has been suggestion in the series that several demons that we know of from Bible lore are, in Good Omens, all actually Crowley, which furthers this idea of Crowley and his big reputation a bit. The show has actually already done this with a Biblical figure, in that Bildad the Shuite is an actual Biblical character that the show just made be actually the demon Crowley under a different name, so it would make sense that the reason why we haven't seen other famous demons from The Bible in the series are because they're actually Crowley.

One is canon, basically, which is Astaroth/Astoreth, since Crowley was Nanny Astoreth in S1 and I doubt he stole the name from another demon who exists in the GO universe. When Crowley tells Aziraphale he changed his name when they are watching Jesus' crucifixion, Aziraphale first posits two other demons' names and neither of them exist in GO universe to date but both are, lore-wise, powerful: Mephistopheles and Asmodeus. A lot of other great meta has been written about these choices-- in particular, how well Mephistopheles fits Crowley to a tee, which I really, really agree with. You could assume then that the reasons why more audience-known demons like Astoreth and Asmodeus have never shown up in GO-- and we've met the highest-ranking demons already-- is because they actually *have* and they're all just really Crowley.

In demon lore, Astaroth is part of the "evil trinity" with Beezlebub and Lucifer and is a high-ranking demon in Hell... as well as is basically a genderbent serpent goddess with Crowley traits... so safe to say that's one of Crowley's aliases. Crowley has also had his name of "Crowley" for thousands of years by S1 but when he's rolling up in The Bentley in 1.01, Ligur and Hastur clarify what Crowley's "calling himself up here these days", indicating that he might have gone by more names than we might have realized.

Asmodeus, as we all probably know by now, is the demon of lust. A French novel from the 18th century also popularized the idea of Asmodeus as a sort of Cupid, which also goes along with Crowley, who loves love and got genuine joy out of trying to set up Maggie and Nina. So... from Shax's perspective, why *wouldn't* you want Crowley? He's the fine as fuck, Serpent of Eden, legendary prince of fucking lust here lol.

Shax showed up to reclaim his apartment for Hell and you know she expected a scene the likes of which have not been seen on Earth since a post-concert hotel suite occupied by Led Zeppelin lol. She was expecting (fantasizing lol) about having to wade through a rock music blasting, orgiastic drug den to find Asmodeus in his sex dungeon of a bedroom, somewhere in the black silk sheets beneath three playthings.

You know she actually found Crowley, alone, having just finished vacuuming the most fastidiously clean flat this side of Heaven, fully dressed and watching Barefoot Contessa on his massive plasma screen while the only drugs being mixed were special-blend fertilizer for his houseplants. Ina was making Jeffrey red-wine braised short ribs and Crowley didn't say so to Shax, of course, but he's always on the lookout for something his angel might like for dinner. Hang on a second, Shax, gotta save this recipe to my favorites...

At least the black silk sheets were accurate? lol

What probably confuses Shax a little is that she's been meeting up with Crowley and she still wants him and badly, even as it's becoming increasingly clear that he's a bit more complicated than she thought he was. Technically, she should consider him a traitor because of how he betrayed their Master but he's hot, ok, and maybe it's a little sexy to be so bad that you'd defy Satan? (Aziraphale agrees lol.)

Shax has Mr. Brown-level fantasies about where this could go. Crowley was a favorite of Satan's and she can bring him back into the fold. She can heal him. Yeah, this lady demon has gone and got herself one of those 'I can fix him' disaster scenarios. She hates this for her too but she can't help it. He's so sexy. She's been in Hell for a long time. She's sleeping in the bed and showering in the tropical rainforest paradise dream shower of Asmodeus himself, ok?

She's undoubtedly tried to get him to stay. She's so offered for him to live with her in secret and Crowley nearly choked on the air he doesn't need to breathe trying not to laugh at the irony of that one. It's not Shax's fault that he's just not that into her. She's a bad bitch and everything. That's just not his thing. He's just the lonely GI who basically fell asleep during a performance of The Ladies of Camelot. He has always given off the impression that he's into everything there is to sell the whole 'demon of lust' thing but he's really not. Shax doesn't know that, though, because to know that is to know Crowley well and Shax does not.

Does Crowley know that Shax is into him? Yeah, he does.

Shax's thing for him is basically the same thing as when Crowley tries to make a phone call after having taken out the mobile phone network for miles. It's the oh, shit, right, that thing I did that's now fucking up my day in the present... He didn't lead her on specifically as much as he just gave off the vibe in general that he's this debauched, wild, so very wicked demon and, well... if your name is Aziraphale, that's not terribly inaccurate lol... but if it's not, then it's actually not true at all...

...and this is why Shax cannot for the fucking life of her figure out what the deal is with Crowley and this angel.

Yes, Shax is trying to goad Aziraphale into confirming that he has Gabriel in this scene but this scene also comes off as Shax so incredibly done with how jealous she is over this, in her eyes, ridiculous being, and she's bitchy as all fuck about it. There were other ways to crack at Aziraphale than over his relationship with Crowley and she goes at that hard. She calls The Bentley an old piece of junk when she's really clearly calling Aziraphale that and saying that she doesn't know why Crowley hasn't gotten "an upgrade" since, implying that she considers herself just the upgrade Crowley needs. She brings up 1941 via the rumors that she heard "80, 90 years ago" that Crowley and Aziraphale were "an item", which we know are at least partially derived from what happened with Furfur, who his Shax's closest friend and totally has tried to tell her that this thing she has for Crowley is hopeless because he's doing that angel, Shax. (Poor, pining Furfur lol.)

Shax knows somewhere that Furfur is probably correct but she's decided to pretend that it's Furfur's thing for her that could have caused him to misconstrue at least part of it, right, because the demon of lust only having eyes for one being, let alone that being being this angel, is absurd to her (even if she thinks she can tame him lol.)

Aziraphale is an angel, for one thing. The bastards who did this to The Fallen and who cast their Master to Hell. Their sworn, hereditary enemy. It was one thing when maybe the angel was a dalliance. Asmodeus, lonely and bored on Earth, tired of all the sex with the mortals, and so very bad that he could corrupt an angel. That's a little hot, actually, if you're Shax, but it's the fact that that... does not appear to be what this relationship is... that unsettles her.

During S2, Shax learns that Crowley has a permanent invite into and keys to the bookshop and that Aziraphale can drive Crowley's car to an extent that Shax even has to trick him to allow her to enter it. The angel really seems like he might be Crowley's partner, which would mean that this wasn't Crowley fucking an angel on a whim in 1941 but that Hell's wild prince of lust has actually secretly been in a romantic relationship with Aziraphale for at least, to Shax's knowledge, almost a century.

The purported baddest demon that ever demoned, shy of the literal devil, is apparently mad for this fusty angel and Shax just cannot get it, ok?

Crowley is a a broody, black-clad rock star and Aziraphale is this twee little bookselling angel to her. Shax thinks maybe this was all part of Crowley's breakdown or something and she's Mr. Brown so she hasn't given up hope here, not for most of S2, but she's mostly been trying to figure out how to get Crowley's attention and that's the funniest part of her whole pash, imo.

Shax has no idea what Crowley is into. She can't figure this out to save her life.

She has no idea that it's over before it started because she is just not what primes the engine of Crowley's star factory over here. It's not personal. He just doesn't have a shred of sexual interest in her. Gabriel is getting more action from Crowley this season and he tried to murder him lol. Crowley's spent millennia cultivating a persona of a sex god and now he's got to live with it and he's just praying he never finds out anything she's fantasizing about him because he shudders at the thought of whatever she envisions them getting up to.

Look at what Shax is wearing when she comes to Earth to meet with Crowley, for one of the more hilarious things...

In Hell, Shax wears modern clothes. When she comes to Earth to meet Crowley in the year 2023, she wears a vintage-inspired outfit that is spanning the mid-1930s through WW2 in style (the era she knows he was involved with Aziraphale, who is her main point of reference for what attracts Asmodeus over here lol)... and the dress has the biggest damn bow ever seen. You could see that bow from space. It's like she's trying desperately to figure out what turns Crowley on and so far she's come up with well, he drives an old car and he's rolled that angel so he likes... old things... vintage clothes, like the angel's. She's trying to out-bow-tie Aziraphale.

Now that Shax can spend time with Crowley alone and the possibility of seducing him is ever-present (lolololol), she's spending time trying to figure out what turns on the prince of lust. She's trying to get Crowley's demonically lustful attention and she's reduced to bow ties, okay, take pity on her... she's just like I don't know what his deal with these are, exactly, as it seems kind of specific... but he can unwrap me anytime if that's his thing...

Then, there's that she's sitting too close to him on the park bench and raking her eyes over him while he's sprawling on it. He's not sprawling in a way meant to be enticing. He's actually mid-existential crisis here but that's fine by Shax. She likes 'em a little dark.

My favorite, though, is a scene that actually parallels S1 in a hilarious way and that's from the hot water boiler scene in the other meta that prompted the ask here but isn't a bit that I mentioned in that one.

As Crowley goes back into the bookshop (and he'd never been happier to be on the other side of that threshold in his life lol), Shax is then as physically close to him as she's ever been. If you notice, she actually inhales twice. The first is a regular breath-- which demons don't technically need to take but yeah lol-- and her expression is all oh Satan, he smells amazing and then she straight up sniffs the air as he opens the door. Girl is huffing her fill over here for those shower fantasies for months to come lol. Crowley knows it as his eyebrows are in his hair as he's turning back around like he's all did she seriously just *sniff* me? ugh...

Shax knows Crowley saw her (honestly, probably also *heard* her... Shax, love, a little subtlety wouldn't kill you...) so she covers it up by pretending like she smelled Gabriel in the bookshop. You smelled the archangel in there, huh, Shax? When you can't get through the door? When Gabriel is the same species as Aziraphale, whose bookshop this is, so this can't be some kind of angel-scent you're claiming you noticed here? lol This then parallels and adds to this Sandalphon scene in S1:

I know there's some debate about if there's such thing as an angelic or a demonic smell but I've actually always taken it to be that there isn't. It would seem to me that it would be hard for them to blend in on Earth if there was and if the demonic one was something off-putting to humans, at least. I think most of us, though, do believe that the "evil" Sandalphon is smelling in the backroom is Crowley but considering that the comment comes from Sandalphon, who is introduced to us with reference to his smiting of people in Sodom and Gomorrah, it honestly just comes off that Sandalphon is a raging homophobe and I've actually always taken that as the reason why Gabriel is here in this scene in the first place.

Absolutely nothing happens in this scene. It's a routine checkup. What is the Supreme Archangel of Heaven doing there? Why is he blowing so much smoke up Sandalphon's ass the whole time? It's kind of like he saw that Michael or someone had assigned Sandalphon to do a checkup of sorts on Aziraphale-- or Sandalphon had assigned himself-- and Gabriel pretended that he wanted to see in person how "the great Sandalphon" worked so that he could tag along and make sure that Sandalphon didn't bother Aziraphale. We also learn that Aziraphale hasn't seen Sandalphon in a long time and I'd bet that Gabriel is responsible for that. Gabriel's 'whatever, idgaf' response to Aziraphale's Jeffrey Archer books comment is so... Gabriel hadn't the first clue who Jeffrey Archer is or why his books would be evil lol. He could have easily further encouraged Sandalphon's pursuit of the "evil" scent. He didn't because he could care less what Aziraphale does in the backroom of his bookshop. If anything, he's jealous of him for having found a way to have some freedom and privacy. Gabriel is queer-- he is like Aziraphale. He's just closeted in S1. He's looking out for Aziraphale here by using his power to shut down Sandalphon and then "you can't have a war without war omg wow you are a poet!" him out of there as fast as is possible. If there truly was an 'evil'/'demonic' smell, Gabriel should have been able to smell it, too, and he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to subtly shut down Sandalphon the way he did.

So, Sandalphon isn't smelling a demon. He's smelling another man. The "evil" is that Sandalphon can smell remnants of another cologne that isn't Aziraphale's in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop and Sandalphon is a homophobe, so he's implying that Aziraphale having sex and with a man is 'evil', even if there's no direct evidence here of that, just the implication of it.

This then would mean that Shax can't actually smell Gabriel in the bookshop in S2. Like Sandalphon, she's pretending to have a supernatural sense of scent but she's really just smelling Crowley. While Sandalphon was repulsed by the idea of Aziraphale's bookshop backroom having the scent of a man, Shax is just inhaling that same being's scent because omfg. so. good....

...something she can't stand that she has in common with that bastard angel, Aziraphale, who is actually allowed to breathe Crowley in anytime he wants... it's just ridiculous to her. Why the fuck does that beige bookseller get to have the sex god of Shax's dreams in his bed and she doesn't? What could Crowley possibly find attractive about him? That she doesn't know and can't really figure it out shows how little she really knows Crowley and also how little imagination she really has.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #good omens shax #shax good omens #shax #archangel fucking gabriel #sandalphon #mr brown #of brown's world of carpets

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theladyfulcrum · 1 year

Text

Come here children. Come here. Sit down. Take my hands. Listen.

Here’s what we are not going to do. We are not going to let them unravel us and leave us in a heap of bawling bodies. They want us to sob until our eyes fall out and we rupture our abdominal organs because they’re heartless and sadistic and part of STAR WARS—shhh, steady—but we are going to remain CALM. Call it denial, call it call it bargaining, call it what you will, but he’s not gone.

Deep breaths, all together now. Crying is cathartic and necessary for coping with the emotional abuse we endure at the hands of Filoni et al., but don’t cry from lost hope. I’m serious. Was it among the worst things we could have possibly been forced to watch? Has a good majority of the fandom been mulling where the hell we are supposed to find the will to go on after that? Of course. But they’ll be back. And Tech will be, too.

Hush, child. Listen to me.

There was a reason he fell into cloud-cover. He could have been falling into anything. Water can be lethal from that height, yes, but let’s all just remember what Hunter pulled in War-Mantle with falling OUT OF A SHIP and down a LITERAL MOUNTAIN and surviving that with JUST HIS KNIFE. HIS KNIFE, KIDS. Tech accepted what he was doing, and he was okay with dying if that was what this meant, but he’s Tech. Once he fell from view he did whatever he could to increase his odds of getting out of it alive. Trust.

Speaking of falling from view— we know the Clone Wars rules. No body, no confirmed death. Forget that— we know the STAR WARS rules. Even if someone gets SLICED IN HALF before your VERY EYES and FALLS AN INDETERMINABLE-BUT-DEFINITELY-NOT-SURVIVABLE DISTANCE, they STILL aren’t dead. Further still, if you had put the two scenes in front of me with no context, I would have said Echo’s death in an EXPLOSION of FIRE seemed more final and certain that Tech falling away from us. And no, I don’t care about the argument that it’s a kId’S ShOW so they wouldn’t show us the body. Go watch Colt’s death and get back to me. Or you know, pretty much any Clone Wars episode.

BUT THE GOGGLES, you wail. I know, dear heart, I know. I see the cracks in them every time I close my eyes. But Hemlock getting his hands on those isn’t confirmation of anything other than what we already know— no matter where he wound up, Tech is having a Very Bad Time™️. Whether he lost them on the extremely unpleasant way down or whether he’s being experimented on in critical condition is hardly a nicer thing to know, but we’ll take just about anything right now if it means we’ll see our boy again, won’t we?

Shhh, I’m not through. We also have that scene with Phee. If it had been a true goodbye, if Tech had shown an ounce of the development he had with Omega about differences in emotional processing and communication, you’d have seen my soul depart through the atmosphere. But no. That scene’s entire purpose was to be unresolved. Was it just to make us incurably sad in retrospect? Maybe. But my gut says no— there’s more he needs to say to her.

On that note, the same goes for Tech and Crosshair. I refuse to believe we’ll never see them together again. I don’t have anything stronger than my refusal, but my feelings on this are rock solid. There’s also the important issue of THE Bad Batch theme— you know how they’ve established a precedent of not using it unless the whole Batch is together? Collectively, we’re going to refuse to believe they’re going to break that now. And there’s too much love for that theme to never hear it again.

Finally, beloveds, we come to our old favorite: story analysis. You know I’m insufferable about this, but listen. If we look at screenwriting, if we look at story structure, if we look at BEATS, this is the old “DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL” for the Batch (and us obviously). It’s the ALL IS LOST. The EVERYTHING IS AWFUL AND THE HEROES ARE AT THEIR LOWEST LOW. It’s the classic “oh my god this second installment is EMOTIONAL TORTURE HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME” that we can point to in novels, shows, and film series again and again. It’s the ESB ending, it’s the Catching Fire ending, it’s the Rebels S2 AHSOKA IS D E A D AND ANAKIN KILLED HER ending. S3 will open as they enter Act III, where they use what they’ve learned to move upwards toward the finale of this particular story arc. Doesn’t that sound like something nice to cling to?

There now. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you all the choice of k!lling me first or tossing me alive out of a plane with no *hard swallow* parachute, jet pack, or functional grappling gun. But I truly believe you won’t have to.

In the year or two we have to wait, cry for his absence, cry for the Batch being more fractured and farther apart than they ever have been, cry for Hunter feeling like he’s failed everyone he loves, cry for all of it, but not because you’ve lost hope that all might not be lost.

Tech will be back.

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vbecker10 · 1 year

Text

My Best Friend...

(Part 1 of 2 - Part 2)

Pairing: Loki x plus size female reader (y/n)

Warnings: angst (of course, not sorry), self depreciating thoughts, feeling inadequate, issues with self image, low self worth, annoying friends... but I promise lots and lots of fluff so just hold on until the end - let me know if I forgot anything 💚

Summary: What you thought would be a relaxing girls night quickly turns into an interrogation by Nat and Wanda about your non-existent relationship with Loki. After denying you are anything other then friends for as long as you can, you finally tell them how you really feel about him... and why you know he will never feel the same. The night goes from bad to worse when you realize Loki overheard you talking to them and you try to hide from him.

A/N: Loki is talked about in this part a lot but he doesn't really show up until the very end, don't worry he is going to be in the whole second part though. Also, I was going to make this one very long fic but @michelleleewise suggested breaking it into two parts so you can thank her for all the angst being in the first half and having to wait another few days for the fluff - love you @michelleleewise 💚

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

"Oh, come on Y/N," Natasha laughs as she sets the pizza box on the coffee table. "Just admit it and we can all move on with our lives."

"I can't cause it's not true," you tell her, looking down to avoid eye contact with the spy. You sit on one end of the couch and she sits next to you, you pass her and Wanda plates. "I'm disappointed, I thought you would be better at reading situations then this," you say sarcastically and she let's out a dramatic gasp, pretending to be offended.

"I think the real problem is you are worse at hiding your relationship with Loki then you think you are," Wanda says as she grabs a slice of pizza. "And since you won't just admit it, how about we review the facts?" Wanda asks with a wide smile before sitting cross legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.

"Oh, I can't wait to hear all of these supposed facts," you roll your eyes.

"Exhibit A, breakfast," Wanda says too excitedly for your liking, "Loki brings you coffee and something to eat every single morning. How do you explain that if the two of you aren't dating, hmm?"

You decide maybe it would be better to just play along with your friends this time, hoping you might be able to convince them they were both wrong once and for all. Wanda and Nat had recently become obsessed with the idea that you and Loki were secretly dating but it had really picked up over the last week.

"I'm telling you, we aren't dating. He just knows I have a lot of early meetings so it's easy for me to get distracted and then I forget to eat," you tell them.

"I don't know," Natasha shakes her head, "Worrying that you're skipping meals seems like good boyfriend behavior."

"It is not, it's good friend behavior," you correct her, "Maybe the two of you don't worry about me enough." You cross your arms and stare at Nat then Wanda, causing them to giggle.

"Still, it's impressive. I don't think Loki even knows if Thor drinks coffee, forget about him ever bringing his brother or anyone else on the team anything," Nat says, picking up right where she left off before the minor laughing fit.

"I don't know what to tell you," you shrug. "Maybe he knows I'm less grumpy when I eat. Those mission report meetings we have are brutal if I'm not fully caffeinated," you suggest another reason.

"Nice try Y/N, but those meetings are only once a week," Nat reminds you and practically wince, how did you ever think the best spy on the planet would let that detail slip past her. "Care to explain away the coffee he brings you the other four days?"

You don't answer, pretending to be interested in reading the label on your drink instead. You remember when Loki started doing it roughly three months ago. One Friday while you were watching a movie together, you complained to him that you had missed breakfast three days in a row that week due to your tight meeting schedule. You hadn't meant for him to do anything about it, you were just venting. The following Monday and every morning since, Loki would stop by your office before he trained with Thor. He brought you a large coffee exactly the way you liked it, even though you don't remember him asking how you took it, and something to eat. You offered to pay him back after the first couple of days but he just smiled and told you not to worry about it.

Wanda laughs at your lack of response, pulling you from your thoughts and asks, "I think it's time for exhibit B, don't you?"

"Oh, of course," Nat smiles and you groan, quickly realizing this was a bad idea.

"Exhibit B, your weekends," Wanda says.

"There is nothing weird about our weekends," you tell them defensively. "What are you talking about?"

"Really Y/N?" Wanda says. "You're going to pretend you and Loki aren't going on dates all the time?"

"We aren't dating," you respond, this time you don't bother to force a smile. "We just like going to the same places."

"The two of you spend every minute of the weekend together," Nat chimes in. "I don't think Wanda spends as much time with Viz as you spend with Loki."

"It's not my fault Loki is more interesting than Vision," you reply quickly, earning a loud laugh from Nat and an eye roll from Wanda.

Natasha wasn't exactly wrong though. Over the last four months you and Loki had gone to art galleries, museums, plays and parks all across the city. These outings would have been truly amazing dates... if you were dating but you weren't. You think back to last weekend when you took him to the Winter Village at Bryant Park for the first time. Your fingers begin to play with the necklace you bought from one of the many artists who had set up stalls there. You were wearing gloves so Loki offered to put it on you, gently sweeping your hair away from your neck as he stood behind you to fasten the clasp. You hadn't been able to stop blushing when his fingers brushed against your skin but thankfully you could blame your red cheeks on the sudden cold breeze.

"Y/N," Wanda says, tossing a balled up napkin at you to get your attention. "Thinking about your next date night?"

You sigh and shake your head no. "Can't you both just let this go? We're going to waste the whole night on this."

"I only have one more exhibit to prove that you are dating, then we will leave you alone," Wanda says and you reluctantly agree to hear it, knowing she will tell you either way. "Exhibit C, you sleep in his apartment way too often. I mean really Y/N, I don't know why you pay rent at your place when you sleep with him two or three times a week."

"Ah, remember two weeks ago?" Nat asks Wanda and she nods. "How many nights in a row did you sleep with Loki?" she asks you with a smirk.

You sigh, "First off, stop saying it like that. I'm not sleeping with him, I sleep at his place. Secondly..." you pause not wanting to answer her question. "Five but you know that was because of the weather."

"Once in a while I get, but that many times in a row and you are practically living with him. I would bet you even have your own toothbrush and a drawer or two at his place," Wanda jokes.

You bite your lip before you respond, you did have a toothbrush and a few things stored in Loki's apartment. He had suggested you leave some items there so you were more comfortable since you slept over so often.

"I only sleep there cause he worries about me getting home safe if it's after a certain time, like if we are out until midnight on the weekends or I work really late during the week," you explain truthfully then add, "And sometimes I accidentally fall asleep at his place if we're watching a movie and he just lets me sleep. It's really not a big deal."

"Mmhmm..." Nat nods.

"I know that look Nat so don't even say it. I've already told you, nothing happens. Loki always offers me his bed and he takes the couch in his living area," you add quickly.

"Damn," Nat laughs and pretends to look disappointed.

"Now, you've finished with your 'facts' that prove nothing. He's just my best friend, that's it," you say, desperately trying to avoid talking about Loki any longer. "Can we please move onto something else?"

"Come on, what else do we need to do to get you to just tell us the truth," Wanda says.

"We aren't together," you tell them for what feels like the hundredth time.

"You can't lie to us," Nat says as if she didn't hear you, "Out with it."

"He's not mine!" you hear yourself say loudly and the smiles fall from their faces.

You look at them both silently, suddenly feeling too exposed as you finally give up on pretending you were unbothered by their constant questions and accusations. You slowly shift so you are sitting with your legs tucked underneath you, pressing your back into the couch. Picking up one of the pillows from between you and Nat, you hold it against your chest almost as if you are trying to hide yourself.

"He's not... he's not mine," you repeat again, a bit quieter this time. "He never was and he never will be. I'm just his best friend," you say.

"Wait... no, you really aren't together?" Nat asks almost in disbelief and you nod.

"I- we honestly thought you were just trying to keep it a really bad secret. I had no idea... I'm so sorry," Wanda says softly. "We never should have pushed you so hard."

"I'm sorry too Y/N but why aren't you two dating?" Nat asks. "The two of you seem so perfect for each other."

You shake your head then lower your face into the pillow to hide the gathering tears. "What did you say?" Wanda asks when you mumble something in response to Nat. You can feel her sitting on the arm of the couch as she gently tries to pull the pillow away from your face.

You cling to it tightly but allow her to lower it a bit. "I said... he would never want to date me," you tell them without looking up. "I'm not his type," you feel the first few tears slip free and fall down your cheeks.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands and wipe your eyes. "Loki is a freaking prince and a God. Why would he want someone like me?" you ask them the question you had been asking yourself since you realized you were in love with him.

"Someone like you?" Nat repeats your question. "Because you are amazing Y/N. You're incredibly funny, clever and-"

You interrupt Nat, "But I'm not beautiful."

"What?" Wanda asks. "Y/N, of course you are."

"No, I'm not beautiful," you tell them. "I know what I look like, I'm short and I'm significantly overweight... I could lose a hundred pounds and I would still be nothing like the women Loki dates. They have all been tall and thin, perfect just like he is," you say, keeping your head down. "He's been with models, socialites, actresses and literal princesses when he lived on Asgard. Why would he ever want me when he could have them?"

You put one hand over your face as you lose the battle to hold back your tears. "I'm such an idiot," you say more to yourself than your friends. "I let myself fall in love with my best friend even though I know he will never love me back," you grip the pillow tighter to your body and keep your eyes closed behind your other hand.

You feel a hand gently settle on your knee, squeezing lightly to comfort you. You appreciate the gesture until you realize you no longer feel Nat and Wanda sitting on either side of you. You sniffle and wipe your eyes, your heart beginning to race as you recognize your favorite smell, Loki's cologne.

"Y/N," Loki says almost in a whisper. He looks up at you as he kneels on the carpet in front of you.

"No," you say in disbelief as you stand up, tossing aside the pillow.

"Wait-" he says but you ignore him, desperately avoiding his gaze.

"No, no, no," you repeat as you realize Loki heard you say you loved him. If he heard that, what else had he heard? Before he can say anything else you grab your phone off the coffee table and leave the common area as quickly as possible.

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list 💚💚

@michelleleewise @soubi001 @ace-of-gay @tessathechild @misunderstoodself @coldnique @lokiprompts @thomase1 @mochie85 @fi-recs-fics @huntress-artemiss @sititran @xorpsbane @kkdvkyya @lokisgoodgirl @harlequin-hangout @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @kats72 @avoliax @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @loopsisloops @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @high-functioning-lokipath @psychospore @dukes2581 @buttercupcookies-blog @animnerd @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @laufeyson-16 @lonadane @loki-laufeyson-1054 @pics-and-fanfics

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💚💚

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katnissmellarkkk · 16 days

Text

as per @rosegardeninwinter’s request that “someone (@katnissmellarkkk) needs to make a bookcomb of all the times Peeta feeds Katniss or orchestrates food being given to her or gives her direction on when to eat because reasons” 🤗

The boy never even glanced my way, but I was watching him. Because of the bread, because of the red weal that stood out on his cheekbone. What had she hit him with? My parents never hit us. I couldn’t even imagine it. The boy took one look back to the bakery as if checking that the coast was clear, then his attention back on the pig, he threw a loaf of bread in my direction. The second quickly followed, and he sloshed back to the bakery, closing the kitchen door tightly behind him.

I gingerly lift my hand to my head and find it bandaged. This simple gesture leaves me weak and dizzy. Peeta holds a bottle to my lips and I drink thirstily.

“No, it’s good. You need to eat. I’ll go hunting soon,” I say.

“Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.”

I don’t really seem to have much choice. Peeta feeds me bites of groosling and raisins and makes me drink plenty of water. He rubs some warmth back into my feet and wraps them in his jacket before tucking the sleeping bag back up around my chin.

Every cell in my body wants me to dig into the stew and cram it, handful by handful into my mouth. But Peeta’s voice stops me. “We better take it slow on that stew. Remember the first night on the train? The rich food made me sick and I wasn’t even starving then.”

“You’re right. And I could just inhale the whole thing!” I say regretfully. But I don’t. We are quite sensible. We each have a roll, half an apple, and an egg-size serving of stew and rice. I make myself eat the stew in tiny spoonfuls — they even sent us silverware and plates — savoring each bite. When we finish, I stare longingly at the dish. “I want more.”

“Me too. Tell you what. We wait an hour, if it stays down, then we get another serving,” Peeta says.

“It’s just . . . if we didn’t win . . . I wanted Thresh to. Because he let me go. And because of Rue.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Peeta. “But this means we’re one step closer to District Twelve.” He nudges a plate of food into my hands. “Eat. It’s still warm.”

I take a bite of the stew to show I don’t really care, but it’s like glue in my mouth and takes a lot of effort to swallow.

When Peeta wakes me later, the first thing I register is the smell of goat cheese. He’s holding out half a roll spread with the creamy white stuff and topped with apple slices. “Don’t be mad,” he says. “I had to eat again. Here’s your half.”

Peeta smiles and douses Haymitch’s knife in white liquor from a bottle on the floor. He wipes the blade clean on his shirttail and slices the bread. Peeta keeps all of us in fresh baked goods. I hunt. He bakes. Haymitch drinks. We have our own ways to stay busy, to keep thoughts of our time as contestants in the Hunger Games at bay. It’s not until he’s handed Haymitch the heel that he even looks at me for the first time. “Would you like a piece?”

He picks up one of the flowered cookies and examines it. “Lovely. Your mother made these?”

“Peeta.” And for the first time, I find I can’t hold his gaze. I reach for my tea but set it back down when I hear the cup rattling against the saucer. To cover I quickly take a cookie.

“Peeta. How is the love of your life?” he asks.

“Good,” I say.

“I want to taste everything in the room,” I tell Peeta.

I can see him trying to read my expression, to figure out my transformation. Since he doesn’t know that President Snow thinks I have failed, he can only assume that I think we have succeeded. Perhaps even that I have some genuine happiness at our engagement. His eyes reflect his puzzlement but only briefly, because we’re on camera. “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says.

“Okay, no more than one bite of each dish,” I say.

Since Mags seems to have no ill effects from the nuts, Peeta collects bunches of them and fries them by bouncing them off the force field. He methodically peels off the shells, piling the meats on a leaf. I stand guard, fidgety and hot and raw with the emotions of the day.

[…]

Mags has also plaited several bowls that Peeta has filled with roasted nuts.

“Can we eat [the 🐀]?” Peeta asks.

“I don’t know for sure. But his meat doesn’t look that different from a squirrel’s. He ought to be cooked. . . .” […]

Peeta has another idea. He takes a cube of rodent meat, skewers it on the tip of a pointed stick, and lets it fall into the force field. There’s a sharp sizzle and the stick flies back. The chunk of meat is blackened on the outside but well cooked inside. We give him a round of applause, then quickly stop, remembering where we are.

I poke around in the pile, about to settle on some cod chowder, when Peeta holds out a can to me. “Here.”

I take it, not knowing what to expect. The label reads LAMB STEW.

I press my lips together at the memories of rain dripping through stones, my inept attempts at flirting, and the aroma of my favorite Capitol dish in the chilly air. So some part of it must still be in his head, too. How happy, how hungry, how close we were when that picnic basket arrived outside our cave. “Thanks.” I pop open the top. “It even has dried plums.” I bend the lid and use it as a makeshift spoon, scooping a bit into my mouth. Now this place tastes like the arena, too.

Peeta, bearing a warm loaf of bread, shows up with Greasy Sae. She makes us breakfast and I feed all my bacon to Buttercup.

#everlark #thg #hunger games #peeta mellark #Katniss everdeen #bookcomb ♥️🔎#I’ll do the reverse soon 🔜

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 11 months

Text

Paris (Superstar Chapter 5)

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else

Privacy sign on the door

And on my page and on the whole world

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

Roy and the Reader continue to see each other in secret while the AFC Richmond goes on a road trip.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.2k words

Warnings: Language, suggestive references, mentions of adults drinking adult drinks, Roy Kent showing lots of green flags, fluff because boy did I need it after the last couple chapters

“Don’t fucking go,” Roy grumbled, grabbing a fistful of the too-big Richmond shirt I wore and pulling me back towards him.

“Just getting some water,” I murmured, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

Moonlight made his skin glow pale as he started to sit up, groaning quietly. “Lemme get it for you.”

I pushed his chest back down, my fingertips brushing against thick hair. “I’ll be right back,” I huffed with a giggle. I pressed a hard, sloppy kiss to his lips before climbing out of his bed, tugging at the hem of the shirt he’d given me to wear in place of proper pyjamas.

Despite my drowsiness, I practically skipped down the stairs, my heart full of something I wasn’t quite ready to name yet. After we’d had a good talk about everything that happened at the fundraiser and what we wanted out of our newly established relationship, Roy had pulled out a homemade chocolate dessert to share, and things had escalated in ways that made me blush to think about.

A mumbled love song lingered on my lips as I opened and closed cupboards to find a cup I could use, straining to see in the dark. The glowing green numbers on the stove read 3:56. Perfect. That was plenty of time before I had to head home and get ready for brunch with Keeley and Rebecca. I could go back to bed and cuddle and maybe even wake up Roy for another round-

“Good mornin’.”

“Fuck!” I shrieked, trying to pull down Roy’s shirt to cover my lower half as a bright light shone on me. I squinted at the figure across the kitchen. “Jamie?!”

Jamie Tartt stood there, dressed for a run and wearing a shining light on his head. “Er, is Roy home?” Even in the dark, I could see him trying to avert his eyes from my figure. “We’re supposed to go for a run. I let myself in, sometimes he forgets to lock his side door…”

My entire body burned with embarrassment. “I, um, I-” I tried desperately to think of a reason, some excuse, to explain why I was half naked in Roy Kent’s kitchen, but nothing came to me.

“Oi! Tartt!” Roy stormed down the stairs, still in the sweatpants he’d worn to bed. “The fuck d’you think you’re doing here?” he bellowed as he flipped on the kitchen light. “I fucking texted you to run on your own today.”

Jamie’s mouth formed a perfect O as Roy towered over him. “Shit, I lost my phone at the party on Friday. Think one of the papps nicked it. Keeley’s picking me up a new one today after brunch.” He shrugged. “Sorry, Coach.”

Roy’s face and whole chest were red with rage. “Well now you fucking know. So get the fuck out.” His eyes landed on me as I tried to strategically hide myself behind the kitchen island. He glared back at Jamie. “And don’t fucking tell anyone about this. Or I’ll slice your prick off, have it properly taxidermized, and give it to Keeley as a fucking Christmas gift.”

“We’re just trying to keep things private for a bit,” I clarified to Jamie, who still looked confused. “This… thing is still new, and we’d just like to not tell everyone at work yet.”

Jamie nodded, blinking a few times. “Nah, I geddit. Don’t need the other gaffers and the guys givin’ you shit.” He gave a small salute to Roy. “See you Monday, Coach.” Then he shot finger-guns at me. “And you have fun with Keeley later, yeah? I promise I won’t tell her about-” He pointed back and forth between Roy and me. “-this thing.”

Roy shadowed Jamie all the way from the kitchen to the front door, slamming it shut behind the player. When he came back into the kitchen, his face instantly softened. “Sorry ’bout that,” he grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. “Fuckin’ Jamie Tartt, losing his fucking-”

I approached Roy and wrapped my arms around his middle, blushing at the feeling of his bare skin. “Don’t worry about it,” I assured him. “I highly doubt Jamie’ll tell anyone. That threat of yours was painfully vivid.”

Roy’s body relaxed against mine as he wrapped an arm lazily around my shoulders, pulling me close so he could plant a kiss on the top of my head. “I know a real good taxidermist, too,” he grunted.

“Lovely,” I snorted, lifting my head to look up at Roy’s face. We exchanged sleepy smiles. “Hi,” I hummed.

“Hi,” he whispered. He bent his head towards me, touching his lips to mine so softly I could barely feel them. “Wanna go back to bed? Get a bit more sleep before you gotta head home?”

My cheeks warmed as I gazed back up at him, my heart purring. “I wanna go to back to bed,” I began slowly. “But… I don’t want to sleep.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up. “In that case-” He lifted me and threw me over his shoulder, giving me a light smack on my butt as he carried me back upstairs, my squeals of laughter echoing throughout the house.

It took all my strength to pry Roy’s muscular arms off me later that morning. He proposed that I cancel on Keeley and made several other suggestions about how I could spend my time, all of which had me red in the face and rolling my eyes as I gathered my clothes off his bedroom floor.

Roy Kent is absolutely smitten with me, I hummed to myself as I drove to brunch, my mobile vibrating to let me know that Roy Kent⚽ was texting me for the dozenth time since I’d left his house that morning, asking me to change my mind and come back. After finding a parking, I silenced my text notifications, not wanting to give either of my friends an opening to ask why in the world my officemate was texting me so obsessively on my day off.

Heading into brunch. Call you after I typed as I walked towards the restaurant, not bothering to hide the wide grin on my face.

“Ooh, is someone sending you a dirty picture?” I jumped as Keeley hooked her arm through mine. “Is it Roy?”

I quickly stuffed my phone into my purse, hoping she hadn’t seen the number of heart-emojis on the screen. “Ha. Hello to you too, Keeley.”

Keeley kissed my cheek as we entered the restaurant. “Come on, I need all the details,” she demanded. “Please, I’m dying!”

We quickly found Rebecca and settled in with drinks and food. The conversation almost immediately turned to Rebecca’s party, which she declared a success.

“Oh, but what about…” Keeley nodded to me. “You know…”

Rebecca raised her eyebrows as she swallowed the champagne she’d been drinking. “What? Did I miss something?”

Before I could explain in a way that didn’t worry my boss, Keeley leaned forward. “Okay, Roy thought that Richard had done something, you know, unseemly to this one.” She waggled her eyebrows and nodded towards me. “So, Roy tried to actually murder Richard, and Jamie and I took them to a side room so they wouldn’t cause a scene- yes, I know, I’m a great PR person, you’re very welcome- and these two-” Another nod towards me. “-had some weird, very sexy energy between them. Then they were alone in that room for a while and when they came out Roy actually danced. Twice.” Keeley smirked at me. “Let me repeat, Roy Kent danced.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows flew higher and higher with each word out of Keeley’s mouth. She gawked at me. “Holy shit, are you and Roy shagging?” she gasped.

“I mean this with all due respect because you’re my boss, but sod off, Rebecca,” I grumbled. “Keeley’s exaggerating. There was a misunderstanding with Richard, Roy was a tad drunk and got carried away trying to be protective, we calmed him down, and he was a perfect gentleman to me, his friend.” Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend.

“Don’t listen to her Rebecca,” Keeley teased. “She’s completely in love with Roy and he’s just as smitten. In fact, Jamie was telling me-”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “What did Jamie say?” I tried to keep my voice even and my face uninterested; deep down, I knew I was failing. There is no way Jamie would tell her. No fucking way.

Keeley smiled; she knew she was winning this game. “Just that you and Roy are always holed up in your office together. He brings you lunch all the time. Sometimes gives you a ride home from work. And Jamie swears that Roy’s been less brutal during their training since the day you started at Richmond.”

Rebecca nodded. “I can’t help but notice that you two are practically attached at the hip at work,” she added sheepishly.

“Well, yeah, Roy says I give him a break from having to talk to Ted and Beard all day.” They didn’t need to know that he’d mumbled that while half-asleep in bed that morning.

Keeley was now completely smug. “The man’s in love with you,” she declared with finality.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s called friendship, Jones. Try it sometime.”

“It’s called romance, babe. And you and Roy Kent should try it sometime.”

“How about Much Ado About Nothing? With Emma Thompson?”

“Fuck no!” bellowed Roy from the couch as I walked back into his living room, carrying a beer for each of us.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on Roy, a little Shakespeare won’t kill you.”

He sat up, baring his teeth at me. “I fucking hate Kenneth Branagh,” he growled, accepting the beer I handed him. “With his fucking around on Emma Thompson. What a prick. The woman’s a treasure.”

“Oh.” I stared at him for a moment, ever amazed at the things that flew out of his mouth. “So, do you hate Helena Bonham Carter as well then?”

Roy shook his head, making room for me on the couch. “Nah. Emma Thompson and her made up. No bad blood there.” He took a sip of his beer. “But fuck Branagh.”

“But Emma’s in Much Ado,” I pointed out as I plopped down. “And Keanu Reeves. You can’t let Branagh ruin it.” Roy rolled his eyes. “How about this,” I offered. “Emma Thompson double feature. Much Ado About Nothing, followed by Sense and Sensibility. That way you get to see her win an Oscar and meet the love of her life Greg Wise.”

“Hmmf.” Roy narrowed his eyes at me, debating my proposal. Finally, he settled into the couch, wrapping an arm lazily around my waist to pull me back with him. “Alright. I could go for some Jane Austen. On with the fucking Branagh movie then.”

Satisfied, I grabbed the remote to Roy’s massive television and found the movie. As soon as Emma Thompson appeared in the opening scene, I laid down my beer picked up my work laptop from the coffee table and opened it. Roy groaned louder than usual beside me.

“Fuck, are you really doing work right now?”

“Sorry, someone’s got to double check the reservations for the Paris game.” AFC Richmond would be playing in an exhibition against a French club team, and Rebecca had tasked me with making sure the lodging was all arranged. I suspected it was mostly because I had casually mentioned taking one French class in school, but it was nice to have responsibilities besides editing the grammar on Coach Lasso’s tweets and returning Coach Beard’s library books.

There was a small pressure on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roy leaning on me, his eyes skimming the room arrangements spreadsheet on my screen. “Oi, I think there’s been a mistake,” he hummed. “You’re in room 218, and I’m in room 222. Shouldn’t I be in 218 too? Would help save a few pounds.” He raised an eyebrow at me, not bothering to hide the grin on his face.

Unable to resist, I planted a kiss on his scruff. “Or, I could let the club pay for the rooms, and if you want to see me, you can put in the effort of sneaking down the hall like a gentleman.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Unless you want to announce to the whole club that we’re dating, and Ted can spend the whole trip calling us his OTP and making comments about being in the City of Love.”

Roy was clearly weighing his options as he stared at me. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, he put his beer on an end table leaned back onto the cushions. “Fine. Just make sure you slip me a key to your room. I’m not going to be standing in a hotel hallway knocking like some fuckin’ creep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.” I made myself a note to ask for two keys for every room; less suspicious than just asking for myself. “Any other requests?” I asked dryly.

“Hmm.” Roy feigned thinking. “Throwing Jamie Tartt off the top of the Eiffel Tower might be a fun team-building activity. Montlaur too while we’re at it.”

“Thought you were over that,” I hummed, checking my confirmation email from the hotel and using Google Translate to make sure I didn’t misunderstand anything.

Roy shrugged, his hand lightly grazing my hip. “Still don’t like the way that prick looks at you.”

I snorted as I sent Rebecca the confirmation email and room assignments for her approval. “And what way would that be?”

“The way I look at you.”

Email sent, I closed my laptop and returned it to the coffee table. “Roy,” I said slowly, straddling his lap and taking his face in my hands. “No one has ever looked at me the way you do.” I kissed his neck tenderly. “Besides, why would you want to waste your time in Paris on Jamie and Montlaur? Wouldn’t you rather be with me?”

“So, you’re saying we can skip going to fucking Paris and just spend the weekend here?” His nose nudged my cheek. “I’ll even let you put on more Kenneth Branagh movies.”

“Oh, hell no,” I scoffed, sliding off his lap and leaning back to watch the movie that had gone ignored during our conversation. “You are not talking me out of a free trip to Paris.”

“Alright, so I’ve got some Albert Camus for Beard, sudoku for Ted, and a sleep mask for Roy.” The coaches held their hands out for their requested road trip items. I held tight to the hardcover copy of The Stranger that Beard reached for. “No writing in the margins,” I ordered. “Library says you can’t do that anymore.”

He rolled his eyes and took the book. “Fine.”

Ted smiled as I handed him the book of sudoku puzzles I’d picked up on my way to work. “Thank you so much,” he gushed. “This is real sweet of you to get these little presents for us. We might have to start callin’ you Willy Wonka.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, no problem, Coach. We’ve got a long trip ahead, might as well enjoy it.” I just don’t want to play “I spy” all the way to Paris. I turned to Roy. “And sleep mask, as requested.”

His eyes narrowed as he took the sleep mask out of my hands. “It’s pink,” he grumbled.

“Goes well with your eyes,” I answered cooly.

Roy glanced around, making sure the other coaches were out of earshot. “Is this from your fucking nightstand?” he hissed, biting back a laugh.

I shrugged, now completely grinning. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d recognize it.” I playfully batted my eyelashes at Roy. “You’re gonna wear it on the bus, right?”

The man was seriously fighting a smile. “Maybe,” he growled quietly.

Before I could make another flirty comment, Ted came back, rubbing his hands together happily. “Alright ya’ll, should we get these puppies onboard this puppy?”

Roy sighed and turned around, glaring at the players who were milling around the parking lot while Will finished loading their luxury-brand luggage onto the team bus. “Whistle!” he shouted, getting their attention. “Oi! Get your asses onboard now, or else you can fucking walk to France!”

When the Paris exhibition game was first announced, Rebecca had planned on everyone just flying; it was the team, particularly Sam and Jamie, who insisted that a six-hour drive would be fun. Part of me was not looking forward to six hours on the road, but knowing I’d spend those six hours next to Roy made it bearable.

I nudged Roy as we watched the team load onto the bus. “Sit with me?” I whispered.

“Like you even have to fucking ask,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing for me to climb aboard.

An hour later, we were on the road, and the boys had finally gotten sick of singing “Richmond Til We Die”, much to Roy’s relief. Now they were all having their own conversations, or listening to music, or watching movies on their phones. The quiet time meant that the coaches and I could finally chat at the table at the back of the bus. As usual, Roy sat next to me and spread himself out a little bit, his thigh pressed against mine and our arms brushing; he often did this “manspreading” at meetings as a way to have physical contact without drawing suspicion.

“Alright, so lay that schedule on us,” Ted was saying as he tossed a handful of the trail mix I’d packed for him into his mouth. “What’s on the itinerary, Ben and Jerry?”

Unable to resist cracking a grin at his little rhyme, I opened the document on my tablet. “So, once we arrive, we’ll have a team meeting to go over strategy with the boys, followed by team dinner at a local restaurant, Rebecca and Higgins’ll join us for that, and then movie night.” A shiver went down my spine as I fent Roy’s knuckle graze my arm. “It’s all arranged with the hotel. Then tomorrow, team breakfast at the hotel and head to the stadium for the game. And after the game everyone’s on their own until we meet at ten the next morning to come back to Richmond.”

Ted smiled. “And the movie is set to go?” Despite the publicity surrounding the exhibition game, the man absolutely knew what his priorities were.

We quickly finished confirming the team’s plans for the trip, with Ted making a few jokes about eating fries and frog legs and toast. The entire time, Roy strategically pressed himself close to me, making me want to finish our meeting so he and I could retreat to our usual seats together, where we could stealthily hold hands between our seats. Instead of dismissing us, though, Ted announced that he had one more topic to chat about; Roy groaned loudly, but a sharp look from me shut him up.

Beard cleared his throat. “So, we’re currently looking very seriously at this Spanish player, Dario Vargas. Skilled striker. Would be a great asset to us.”

“And he’s actually going to be in Paris at the same time as us,” Ted explained. He turned to me. “D’you think you could find a good place for me and Rebecca to have dinner with him tomorrow after the game? We’re hopin’ to wine and dine ’im and reel in the big fish before we head home.”

“Sure, Ted,” I assured him, starting a search on my tablet. “Dario Vargas….” I cocked my head at the men. “Why do I know that name?”

Coach Beard sat up a little. “Well, he’s been a pretty big name on a couple of Italian and French teams in the last few years. So maybe you’ve seen his name on a sports network or something?”

No, that wasn’t it. This guy’s name was so familiar, but I didn’t associate it with football. For some reason, his name made knots begin to appear in my stomach, and I didn’t like it.

“Hmm, maybe,” I agreed, wanting to end the meeting already. “Anything else?” Roy growled beside me.

Ted shook his head, all smiles. “Nope. We’re all set, Mookie Betts.” He nodded to Roy. “You can go take a nap now.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbled, jumping up. Internally, I rolled my eyes at his dramatics.

About fifteen minutes later, I had Ted’s reservation settled and could put my work away. With a sigh, I collapsed in my seat next to Roy, who was indeed wearing my sleep mask. I pulled out my phone, quickly typing a text complaining to Keeley about her decision to stay home from the trip.

A hand brushed against my thigh. When I glanced up, Roy had lifted my sleep mask slightly and was staring at me from under it. “Oi, what fucking movie are you making us watch tonight?”

“Bridget Jones’s Diary,” I answered as my mobile vibrated, letting me know Keeley had sent me a reply. “It’s one of my favorites.”

The sleep mask was now entirely lifted and resting on top of Roy’s head. “Because you fancy that wanker Hugh Grant?”

A snort flew out of my mouth. “Colin Firth, actually.” I glanced at the words on my screen; Keeley was suggesting that I ask Roy about his baguette. In return, I sent her several middle finger emojis.

“You like that whole Mr. Darcy shit?”

I rolled my eyes; Roy was talking as if he hadn’t just been completely invested as he watched the five-hour miniseries of Pride and Prejudice with me a couple days ago. “Yes, I like that whole Mr. Darcy shit. Have you seen Pemberly?”

“No wonder you like my house,” he muttered, grinning. His eyes flickered to my phone. “Why’s Keeley sending you so many eggplant emojis?”

“No, I like you very much. Just as you are,” Colin Firth said to Renee Zellweger onscreen.

In the back row of the hotel conference room turned private theater, I let out a breathy sigh. Roy eyed me carefully, the lights from the screen playing on his face.

“You like this?” he whispered, barely audible.

I nodded. “I like anything Colin Firth says,” I answered.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “And the grand gesture shit?”

“Obsessed,” I replied, grinning.

“Good to know,” he muttered, slumping in his seat a bit, his knee knocking into mine. He leaned over once more. “What’re you doing after this?”

I craned my neck to make sure everyone was preoccupied by whatever antics Bridget Jones was getting herself into. “Going to bed, probably. Yourself?”

A smirk graced the face I always found myself thinking about. “Probably going to your bed.”

Sure enough, I woke up the next morning curled up in Roy’s arms. It had quickly become my favorite way to start my day: turning around and seeing that bearded face still half asleep, tracing shapes on his arm as he squeezed me a bit tighter to himself, and murmuring sweet nothings back and forth before starting our day.

The light coming through the space in the curtains told me that we didn’t have much time before Roy had to sneak back to his own room before the team started milling around the halls and heading to breakfast. And my mobile ringing on the nightstand told me that I wouldn’t even get to enjoy the time we did have.

“Hello?” I grumbled into the phone, giving a small stretch as Roy stirred beside me.

“Good morning, darling!”

The sound of my mother’s voice had me scrambling to sit up and cover myself with the blankets, as if she could see the way I had turned Roy’s black shirt into pyjamas. “Morning Mum,” I blurted out. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry it’s so early, I just wanted to catch you before you get busy. How’s Paris?” Her voice was nonchalant, oblivious to the scene on my end of the call.

I cleared my throat as Roy began to wake up, squinting up at me with a scowl on his face. “It’s great, Mum,” I answered, raising my eyebrows at Roy, who nodded in understanding. “Text me what you want me to bring you as a little souvenir, yeah?”

“Sure, love.” In the background, I could hear dishes clanging; she was probably getting breakfast ready.

“So, everything’s good? The team’s treating you well?”

My hand rested on Roy’s arm as I completely sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Yeah, they’re great. They’re basically big kids, really.”

“And the gaffers?”

Roy turned over to wrap his arm around my waist, gazing up at me with a sleepy grin. “Very nice,” I assured her.

“And how’s Roy?”

I nearly choked. “Roy?” I repeated, shoving his arm off me.

She chuckled into the phone. “Yes, Roy. You know, tall, brooding, handsome, football star. Photos of him all over your walls since his Chelsea days. Disappeared upstairs with you at Dad’s birthday dinner. That Roy.”

Roy tapped my shoulder, tiredness all over his face. “Can you ask your mum when I can come over for dinner again? That was some of the best fucking pasta I’ve ever had.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line while I swallowed hard. There was no way my mother didn’t hear Roy. And she was definitely capable of recognizing that it was way too early for me to have company. Finally, whisper came from her end: “Is that Roy?”

The options weighed in my head. Flat-out lying and telling my mum that she was crazy, that she’d just heard the television, no way was Roy Kent in my hotel room, was probably not an option. She’d had dinner with the guy; she knew his voice. There was always telling her that the team was getting together for an early-morning breakfast, but the room was too silent to believe twenty-something football players were horsing around a hotel dining room.

That only left me with one choice: the truth.

“Yeah, Mum, that’s Roy,” I admitted, biting my lip.

To my surprise, she laughed. “Well, I’ll be! I was wondering what happened after Dad’s dinner. You hadn’t mentioned any other fellas in a while.” She paused thoughtfully. “Does he treat you well?”

Her voice was softer than I’d ever heard. “I’m so glad, darling. When you’re back from Paris, we’ll have the two of you over for dinner. No birthdays this time.”

My gaze fell to Roy, who was watching me curiously, eyebrows raised. His eyes were full of the adoration I had quickly gotten used to as his fingers traced circles on my hip. “Really well,” I promised my mum, smiling down at Roy. “The best, actually.”

Relief and joy filled my chest. “That would be great, Mum. Roy’d love that. He still asks about that pasta you made for Dad’s birthday.” Roy smiled at the mention of the food he’d been bothering me about since the dinner in question. “Listen, I gotta go, we’ve got some team things to do before the game. But I’ll send you and Dad pictures, and I’ll call you when I’m back in town, alright?”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. When I placed my phone back on the nightstand, Roy was sitting up, watching me carefully.

“You told your mum about us,” he observed quietly. The look in his eyes was unreadable.

I pulled my knees to my chest, nodding. “Hope that’s okay,” I murmured. “I… I hadn’t planned on telling my folks yet. But I know they won’t tell anyone til we tell them we’re ready.”

To my surprise, Roy leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Of course it’s okay. Just promise me one thing.”

I leaned my head against his, nodding earnestly. “Anything.”

“Get me that damn pasta recipe.”

The game went magnificently. The French club had a stellar reputation, but the Greyhounds were up to the challenge. Two remarkable assists from Jamie, incredible goals each from Sam and Colin, and an unbelievable penalty kick from Dani led to a Richmond victory.

Back at the hotel lobby, the boys made plans to go out on the town to celebrate, with Richard taking the reigns thanks to his own experiences in the city. Ted and Rebecca bowed out to go to the dinner reservations I’d made for them and the player they were trying to court, and Beard had already left to meet his girlfriend who had made the last-minute decision to fly in that afternoon to spend the evening together.

That just left me and Roy.

“You didn’t want to go out with them, did you?” he asked quietly as we watched the guys debate where to start their night.

I shrugged. “They invited me,” I admitted. “But someone had given me instructions to pack that red dress I’d worn to the charity ball, so I was hoping I had plans tonight already.”

Sneaking another glance at the team, who slowly made their way back up to their rooms to change into their clubbing outfits, Roy slipped me a piece of paper, scrawled on in his sloppy handwriting. “Go outside at eight. There’ll be a car waiting for you. Give the driver this address.” He paused, his eyes flickering to my mouth for a brief moment. “Wear the red dress,” he added.

“Aye, aye Coach,” I agreed, shooting him a puzzled grin. With a short growl, Roy turned and walked out of the lobby, leaving me with the paper in my hands and several questions in my head.

At eight on the dot, I made my way down from my room to the lobby. With the red dress and heels on, as well as the inordinate amount of time I’d spent on my hair and makeup, and a night in Paris ahead of me, I felt a bit like a movie star. A few of the guys were lingering in the lobby, waiting for the group to assemble. They waved when they saw me and called out compliments; I even heard a joking wolf-whistle from Colin.

“Thanks guys!” I called out as I approached them. “You guys going to get into some trouble?”

“You comin’ out with us?” Isaac asked, gesturing to the group. “Richard’s got a great night planned for us. We’ll all take turns dancing with you and you won’t have to buy a single drink, it’s all on us.”

Dani winked. “Unless you ditch us for a French guy and we don’t see you until mañana.”

“I don’t think Roy would like that very much,” Richard chirped, cackling to himself.

The guys all turned and glared at him, hissing at him to shut up and reminding him that we all agreed not to tease her and giving him a warning that Roy’s going to kill you.

I cleared my throat, hoping they’d assume the blush on my cheeks was just makeup. “Um, I’m sorry, what’s happening?”

The guys all looked at each other helplessly before Colin finally spoke up. “We just all noticed there’s a bit of… tension between you and Roy? The good kind,” he added quickly. “We all totally ship it.” There was a murmur of agreement among the team.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Come on guys, leave ’er alone. They’re friends. Roy’d murder all of ya if he heard the way you’re talking.” He smiled at me. “You, go. Have a good night, whatever you end up doin’.” The wink Jamie shot me had me wondering if he knew what awaited me once I walked out of the hotel.

After wishing each other good evenings, I left the team and headed outside. Indeed, there was a black car waiting for me with a driver, uniform and hat and all. He nodded at me as I approached.

“Mr. Kent’s friend?” he asked, smiling.

“Um, yes,” I confirmed, pulling the piece of paper out of my clutch. “He said to give you this.”

The driver took the paper and opened the door for me. “If you’re ready.”

I gazed out the window as we drove, glancing down at my mobile every few minutes. I had sent Roy a text when I got in the car to let him know I was on my way, and all I got was a thumbs-up emoji. While part of me was enjoying the mystery of it all, I couldn't help but feel nervous. Where was he taking me? Some small café on the outskirts of the city where no one would notice us? Another hotel, where we could actually share a room? Wherever it was, it would probably be somewhere dark and quiet where we could hide in a corner.

Instead, we slowly pulled into a parking structure. Fuck, maybe Will was right when he told me he thinks Roy might be a serial killer.

The driver parked and turned to me. “We’re here,” he announced, although I couldn’t figure out where “here” was.

“Er, thanks,” I mumbled as I opened the car door. “Will you wait here or…?”

“’m not going to kill you,” a familiar growl called out.

There was Roy, hands in his pockets, standing under the light of the parking structure. He wore the same black suit he’d worn at the gala; if he was a serial killer, he was the most attractive one in history. He smiled and waved me over.

Click, click, click went my heels on the sidewalk as I approached him. He reached out and took my hand before planting a firm kiss on my lips.

“Roy, where are we-”

“Just watch,” he chuckled as he led the way. The street was shockingly empty, considering this was Paris of all places.

Before I could ask Roy any more questions, we turned a corner and my heart jumped into my throat. “Roy, is that-”

“Yeah, that’s the fucking Louvre.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “What’re we doing at the Louvre?” I asked incredulously.

Roy rolled his eyes and tugged me onwards towards the lit-up pyramid. “Stealing the Mona Lisa.”

“Roy.”

A smile graced his face. “Having dinner. Happy?”

I shook my head, my mind spinning. “How… I mean what… Holy shit…”

“Sometimes being a retired footballer comes in handy,” he joked. “I called a guy, wrote a check, and they closed the most famous museum in the world for us.” He shrugged. “No big deal.” The sparkle in his eye told me that no, he wanted me to think that this was a big deal.

Which it absolutely fucking was.

We made our way into the museum, with the security guard tipping his hat to us and greeting “Mr. Kent”. Our steps echoed on the marble floor as we walked from room to room, Roy never letting to of my hand. He pointed out a few paintings as we walked, softly sharing the names of artists he particularly liked.

Roy Kent likes art, I thought to myself. Every new thing I learned about the man made my heart fall a little bit further in… No, don’t say that yet, I scolded myself, trying to focus on the name Roy was whispering to me now.

We finally arrived in the room that held the most recognizable painting in history: the Mona Lisa. But my eyes were drawn away from her and to the table that had been set up and the waiter who stood beside it. I looked at Roy.

“We’re having dinner with the Mona Lisa?” I hissed.

He shrugged and led me to the table, pulling my chair out for me. “Hope that’s okay.”

It was more than okay. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever heard of, probably the most grand gesture I’d ever seen.

“When’d you set this up?” I asked as the waiter poured two glasses of champagne.

Roy cleared his throat and bobbed his head a bit, a nervous habit I now knew well. “Late last night,” he mumbled.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a smirk on my lips. “Before or after Bridget Jones?”

“After,” he growled, pink tinting his cheeks. “Satisfied?”

My smile grew. “So, after we watched Bridget Jones and you asked me what I thought of grand gestures, you went and planned the grandest gesture of all time?”

A laugh escaped his lips. “I take it this is more impressive than Pemberly?”

“Much more impressive,” I confirmed, taking a sip of champagne. “Thank you, Roy.”

He leaned forward and laid a hand on top of mine. “Well, I figured we should celebrate.”

Now it was my turn to blush. “What’re we celebrating? Not today’s win, I assume.”

“Fuck no.” He took a deep breath and gave my hand a squeeze. “I just figured that the longest relationship I’ve ever been in is worth celebrating.”

Numbers flew in my head as I quickly did the math. “But Roy, we’ve only been-”

He shook his head. “It has been four months and six days since your dad’s birthday. I know it’s not the official day we got together or anything, but I figured it's…” He shrugged, trailing off. His eyes were begging me not to laugh at him or tell him he was wrong.

As if I could.

“Something worth celebrating,” I repeated, lifting my champagne.

Roy smiled and lifted his own glass, tapping it to mine with a clink. “To really fucking liking each other.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “To really fucking liking each other.”

#Roy Kent Superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #Roy Kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #ted lasso #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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twst-drabbles · 6 months

Text

Azul and Jamil 1

Summary: Jamil wants to make a feast for no other reason other than he wants to spoil you, though he claims he simply feels like cooking. Azul joins in to help and bother him. Then, you accidentally cut your palm catching a knife.

(This one was fun. Loved writing the banter between Azul and Jamil.)

��You are not renovating my home, Azul,” you cut in, pointing your knife in his direction as his smile faltered, “I like it just the way it is. And stop trying to goad Jamil into this.”

“I’m nothing more than a humble assistant that’s not looking for trouble,” said Jamil, fully knowing what he’s saying is bullshit, “Besides, we’re not ‘friends’ as you like to say.”

When you put the knife down and continued to chop at the vegetables, only then did Azul put a hand over his heart, as though truly wounded. His tears were almost convincing, had you not known him for a while. And while you were all supposed to be cooking a feast.

“Do you really take me for someone so shallow? That I would go so far as to butter you up just to further my dream of opening a beautiful lounge complete with all the amenities that we have right here?”

By the end of that first half of his ramble, Azul finished washing the dirt off the vegetables. At least you don’t have to kick him out of the kitchen. Jamil’s tail started to rise behind Azul’s back, but a light tap of the blunt end of your knife got him to put it down. Jamil huffed but continued kneading the dough.

“Think of the money we could make! Think of all the things we can purchase and put into our rooms! And, most of all, think of what we could give to our precious caretaker here. Surely the concern I’ve been showing has to mean something to you.”

Honestly, it’s kind of endearing how hard he’s trying, mostly because it’s clear just how not used to making friends Azul is. A part of you wants to throw him a bone, but the bigger part of you knows that won’t go over well with Azul. Not in the sense that he won’t appreciate it, but that he won’t learn the social skills he needs.

The skills used to pull someone into giving a deal are not the same as the ones used to make a friend.

“It does mean something,” Oh? You turned your head towards Jamil as he paused in his kneading, “it means you’re irritating. Helpful, but irritating.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m ‘irritating,’ as you say,” And Azul took that in stride, “more, ‘annoying.’ And isn’t annoying your peers a part of friendship? Especially when they’re not being truthful about their pure intentions. ‘A feast because you felt like it?’ Surely it isn’t because you wanted to spoil the caretaker.”

Jamil hissed under his breath and you couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Not at all. This is all just a simple whim.”

Right, right. So says this tender naga.

You turn back to continue chopping. And just as you were getting back into the rhythm while the two besides you had their little back and forth, the knife’s handle, wet with all the moisture from the vegetables, slipped from your grasp. And, like any human with instincts built in their body, your hand reached out before you would think to just let it fall to the ground.

You grabbed the blade. It sliced deeply into your hand and all you could do was gasp and hiss through your teeth.

“Ow…” blood didn’t gush so much as it flowed down like a horribly leaking faucet, “Oh no. Oh that’s pretty bad.”

Okay, no worries. Just put pressure on the wound with something.

“Uh, does anyone have a clean towel–” You looked up only to find Jamil completely blocking your view. His eyes were wide, lip a tighter line than it already was. Jamil’s tail, once behind him, was now brushing against your legs.

He didn’t say anything, only gently guided you to sit down with his flour covered hands. They were shaking.

“Azul,” he turned, almost sounding angry from his growing impatience, “the first aid kit is in the closet, by the door.”

“A-ah,” Azul, when you could finally see him, was frozen before Jamil’s words jolted back into being. Eyes once sparkling in their confidence now dimmed in a fog of confusion and fear, “the closet. It’s in the closet. I’ll… I’ll get it.”

His small voice didn’t suit the rush in his step.

“Just,” Jamil couldn’t grab your hands, not when they were dirty, but helped you press more firmly against the wound, “keep pressing.”

“I know, I know,” you did as said, “hey, can you get me my phone? I got to call Crowley so he can take me to a doctor.”

Why did you have to grab that knife? Now the feast’s going to be put off.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #octavinelle #azul #azul ashengrotto #scarabia #jamil #jamil viper #sanctuary au #reader insert

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evilovesyou · 8 months

Note

Can i ask what / how was it poorly organised? Sorry it left you feeling like that :/

I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into 😂

It started with just how to get into the venue… google maps told us it was a 20 minute walk but the entrance was so hard to find, with no signs or anybody pointing you in the right direction, that it took us at least 45 min.

We got there after the initial queues had passed, but still fairly early. (The second act was playing when we entered the grounds.)

There were 2 food trucks for (depending on the source) 20-30k people. Two trucks. And two bars that sold only soft drinks and beer. You could buy water at specific places just for that. One merch stand. 12 hammocks that they labeled “chill out area”.

They had talked about having vegan food options etc, but when we arrived there were already several things that were crossed off the menu. We stood in line for 45 min to get some food and when my girlfriend asked if they had anything vegetarian they offered her “onions, some peppers and lettuce in some bread.”

There was a separate line for fries, but the fries were sold at a drinks station so they just told us to cross over and get them since we’d already been in line for almost an hour at that point. Then somebody yelled at us for cutting the line lol

I got a chicken “sandwich” that was literally just a piece of fried chicken and two dry pieces of bread. No condiments, no lettuce, not even a slice of tomato.

So we paid €20 for some watermelon, fries, and a “chicken sandwich” that was so bad I almost cried.

There were a total of 2 trash bins on site I think and they were buried under mounds of rubbish so I’m not sure if there were actual bins or if people just decided for a communal spot.

As far as I know they were pretty good about handing out water and such in the afternoon, though the “free water” they advertised outside of the crowd at the stage wasn’t marked and pretty hard to find.

Before the show started, during “DJ” Carl Baracat or whatever his name was (he literally played the wildest mix of a playlist I’ve ever heard in my life. No mixing or anything. It was weird.)… I realised the heat was getting to me and I was feeling very thirsty so I asked for water from security and they told us they weren’t handing out any water until Louis got on stage. Essentially the message was “I’ll wait until you faint, even though you have time to access your needs right now and you won’t be able to once the main reason you’re all here is on stage”. I did get water half an hour later, during the second song or so.

After Louis’ set it was pretty quick to clear out and we were lucky enough to stay directly in Camaoire but @chaotic-bells has a story to tell about transport back to other towns nearby I think…

Maybe it comes from having worked in event management before, maybe it’s just my general virgo-ness and personality, but there were so many things that would’ve been so easy to solve on part of the venue and security and the organisers that I was just genuinely appalled at the lack of care.

So… I love Louis. I’m glad I was there for this and I got to see my friends. I’m glad I got to see the Blossoms live! They were awesome. The people were genuinely really nice! Louis was amazing as always. We got to hear Paradise and I know @fadeintolight lost her mind about that 😅 I got to hang out with @chickenstuffedwithmozzarella for the first time and it was awesome 🥰

I got to be at the beach with my girlfriend before the festival and then kiss her surrounded by lights. We got to leave our gay message for Louis. All is well in the end.

#asks #afhf23 #away from home festival #away from home festival 2023 #my show #anonymous #gf vibes 💗#my friends :)#I am posting this from the train #I hope there aren’t any typos and stuff

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rickmymanrick · 8 months

Text

one rule | chapter one |

[rick grimes x original female character slowburn]

summary: unbeknownst to them, best friends glenn rhee and daphne ayala spend the last 48 hours of normalcy they’ll ever have before their lives are changed forever.

note: this story will include a Shane Walsh romance BUT it will be unrequited. Do not worry. This is VERY unedited but I wanted to get at least one chapter out. We'll get into the events of the show by the next chapter. also, acab. the plot calls for this small bit but acab forever.

Tap, tap, tap-tap-tap!

The light pattern on my door stole my attention from the array of papers scattered across the coffee table.

I tried to scan the last sentence of the page quickly.

Suddenly, a loud TAP!

"Delivery!" A high-pitched tone squeaked from the other side of the door. I grinned down at the document and rushed to open the door. I heard someone clear their throat and opt for a more caveman-like growl. "DELIVERY—"

I laughed, swinging the door open and narrowly avoiding my best friend's fist. If I'd taken any longer, he would've banged the door down with his knocks alone.

I went for the box of pizza in his grasp and placed a fleeting kiss on his cheek before rushing over to the kitchen island.

"Wow, no 'hi? How are you? How was work?' Is this what society has come to?" I heard the door shut and a flurry of movements. I didn't bother to look up from my current task.

"Glenn Rhee," I began in the sweetest voice I could muster. "Hi. How are you? How was work?"

"Great! Got cursed out by some asshole for doing my job today," said Glenn pleasantly, accepting the beer I held out for him.

I smiled at him through my mouthful of pizza. "That's fun. What was it today?"

"Got to this dude's house 29 minutes after he ordered," he chewed on his slice aggressively. You'd think he would hate pizza from the amount of shit he has to go through at work.

"You're an expert at what you do, Rhee."

"That free pizza comes out of my paycheck," Glenn scoffed. He clearly took the 30-minute rule very seriously.

"Did he leave a tip?"

"No."

"What an asshole."

Glenn nodded at the mess on our coffee table. "Looks like you've had a busy day."

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic cringe. "'Member the car chase that was all over the news last week?"

Glenn nodded.

"Got assigned to the case. The cop that got shot, he's not doing too hot right now," I told him, grabbing my second slice. I picked off a pepperoni and shoved it in my mouth.

I resisted the strong urge to eat the rest of the pepperoni on my half of the pizza. I eyed Glenn's half distastefully—I would never, ever appreciate pineapple on pizza. I'll die on that hill.

He took a large swig of his beer. "That's a pretty big upgrade from petty theft, Daph."

"Yeah, I guess it is." I tried not to focus on the subject of my investigation, gulping down a large amount of beer.

"Have you made any progress?" I appreciated Glenn's interest.

"Well, it's definitely not the officer's fault. They had every reason to believe that there was only two people in that overturned car." I eagerly crossed the living room and snatched up my half-written report. "The KCPD failed to inform the responding officers so I mean, technically Grimes can sue."

"Grimes?" Glenn raised his eyebrows in recognition. "You mean super hot hip-swaying cop?"

My ears felt hot. "That's the one."

My heart pummeled to my chest the more I thought about it. Out of all the people that could've been wounded on the field, it had to be Officer Rick Grimes, a coworker of mine that I saw pretty often around the precinct. I was fully convinced he had fully forgotten about my existence seeing as our respective lines of work didn't cross paths too often. We'd only interacted a handful of times in the last three years I'd been working at King County PD, but that didn't stop me from noticing him as soon as I got hired.

It's unfortunate he's married-- Rick Grimes was the most attractive man I've ever met and of course, Glenn was the first to know about it. I wouldn't deny that he was, without a doubt, my work crush. I mentally cringed at the thought. I felt like a teenage girl again.

The sudden sound of the news filtered in from Glenn's bedroom.

There was a split second of pure fear that flashed in Glenn's eyes and I gave him an amused smile. "We gotta change that tv one of these days."

He quickly snatched up another slice and shoved it in his mouth. "I'm busy, Daph. Can you please go turn it off?"

I poked his side before moving around him to enter his room. His tv had started turning on by itself almost every day since he bought it in July.

"Your 30-day warranty is almost up, Glenn!" I pointed out loudly, reaching for the remote that was thrown on his bed. "Where did you buy this haunted shit from aga--?"

"Several cases have been reported across the continental US, leading us to believe that this new virus may be more serious than we thought. Joining us here from Atlanta is CDC virologist Dr. Edwin Jenner, giving us the latest updates—"

Glenn strolled into the room just as I finished raising the volume. "Your beer is getting hot—what's going on?"

"Thanks, Anne. As of today, August 26th, the President of the United States has declared a national emergency due to the spread of the Wildfire-10 virus. The CDC has been in constant communication with the White House and we expect President Milton to announce a mandatory evacuation this afternoon in his address."

Glenn and I eyed each other in confusion.

"Evacuation?" The New York reporter responded in equal confusion. I faintly heard someone behind the camera that the mic must've picked up – "How is a whole country going to evacuate?" – and I would've laughed if I wasn't so damn confused right now.

"It's hard to say, Anne, we're not entirely certain which states will receive this order but what we do know is that it's imperative that we do our best to avoid leaving our homes for anything other than work and necessities. Practice social distancing and listen to the advice the CDC has been giving you for the past week.

"And for those viewers who might've missed it, do you mind recapping the earlier update given to us by CDC director Holt?"

"Sure," Jenner smiled. It made me feel uneasy. "This is an extremely life-threatening virus that could very well spread more rapidly than other illnesses we've seen before. The CDC has been working diligently with other health organizations across the globe, primarily The Primrose Team in France, and we can confidently say we're working on an effective vaccine."

"Thank you, Dr. Jenner. To all those watching from home, this isn't a cause for mass panic. Soon, the world will resume just as we know it..."

But something told me it wouldn't ever be the same.

"Ayala! How's my favorite girl doing?"

Ah, the oh so pleasant voice of my favorite coworker greeted me the second I walked through the doors of the precinct.

"Doing just fine, Walsh. How about you?" I forced a smile on my face. I didn't hate Shane Walsh... he was just... too chirpy for this bright hour. In fact, he was too witty for any hour. My natural reaction to his presence was usually automatic irritation.

"Just fine myself, pretty lady." There it was. The relentless flirting. I had gotten a break when his partner first ended up in the hospital -- my heart sunk at the reminder -- but now that it had been a month or so since, he's slowly started to resume his regularly scheduled programming. Partner or not, shooting or not, Shane Walsh would forever be a manwhore.

I entertained him sometimes. It was just a bit of harmless flirting for the most part. He knew where the line was, which is more than I can say for a lot of other men.

I dropped my briefcase on my desk and Shane crossed the space to hover right over my work area. I threw myself down onto my seat with a small groan.

My head was pounding. I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck tenderly. A shuffle of movement caused me to end my massage much faster than I wanted to.

I opened an eye, swearing to the heavens above that if Shane was still hovering with that stupid grin on his face, today would be the day I finally resort to violence.

The shit-eating grin was surprisingly not looking back at me. Instead, it was a sympathetic smile with a steaming coffee in his outstretched hand.

I snatched the damn thing before he could change his mind.

"You're a lifesaver," I moaned. "Seriously Shane, you might just be the best cop in Georgia. Have I ever told you that?"

"No, but I've heard it once or twice," boasted Shane. I rolled my eyes. It certainly wasn't from the chief.

"You're unbelievable, Walsh," I shook my head with a laugh. I eagerly sipped from the coffee and then wanted to kiss the everloving shit out of this man.

I scorched my throat but I didn't care. "How do you know the way I like my coffee?" I gaped.

Shane shrugged. "I'm observant."

"Clearly," I said. "Thank you. I needed this."

"That's one mean hangover," said Shane with a smirk.

I tried not to spill my coffee as I leaned forward to look at my reflection in the little desktop mirror I had. My hair turned out pretty nice today, it wasn't very frizzy or anything and sure the darkness under my eyes was a bit more prominent but nothing too out of the ordinary. I leaned back when I was satisfied with my look.

"Vanity doesn't suit you, sweetheart," Shane said lightly. "I was only teasing. You look as beautiful as you did yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before that."

"Do you not have anything else to do other than flirt with me?" I joked. Secretly, I didn't mind it all too much. Shane wasn't a bad looking guy, especially with the grown-out hairstyle he was currently sporting. I'm a sucker for long hair.

"As it turns out, I actually don't--" I rolled my eyes again and logged into my computer. "--partner."

I slowly shifted my gaze from the computer screen to Shane.

"Talked to the chief today. She didn't mind switching it up for this week. I was getting sick of Stone over there--" we both looked over at the grumpy guy who acted like happiness was a first degree crime. "-- and besides, you're prettier to look at--" I shoved him off the edge of my desk. He stumbled a bit and corrected himself quickly. "-- you're easier to work with, Jesus."

"What do we have for today then?"

Shane grinned.

For the next eight hours, I'd spend most of it in the car with Shane. I wanted to say it was a miserable time but it wasn't. Shane wasn't too bad once he stopped purposely being obnoxious. We mostly talked about the most interesting King County cases over the years, bonded over subs from some gas station just outside of our area of jurisdiction, and after the first five hours, Shane had started to talk about his personal life.

"I told Lori-- maybe it's time she starts preparing Carl for the worst. You know, just in case. Man, Rick - he's my best friend, my brother - you know - but it's been a while. I'm tryin' to avoid Carl some pain."

"I understand," what else was I supposed to say? "It isn't an easy situation."

"No," Shane agreed. "And let me tell you something, it's only gonna get worse. This whole virus thing going around - if it turns out we gotta evacuate soon, who knows how far Rick will be transferred?"

I felt bad for the way my heart sank at the prospect. Rick has a wife and a child. Where he gets relocated and the progress of his recovery shouldn't matter this much to me. Maybe I wouldn't feel as bad if I wasn't harboring this silly little crush.

It was nearing 4 o'clock when Shane and I finally clocked out, walking side-by-side towards the parking lot. I noticed his car was parked on the far opposite end and began to say my goodbyes--

"Hey, you don't happen to have any plans tomorrow, would you?"

"I don't think so. They didn't put me on the schedule last minute, did they?" I asked, somehow missing the growing redness on Shane's cheeks.

"No," he said quickly. "I - well, uh - I was wondering if you - "

I froze, clutching the satchel that was thrown over my shoulder and suddenly feeling just a bit uncomfortable. I could tell this wasn't work related.

"Uh, I don't normally get nervous like this," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "You and me, dinner tomorrow? We can go to that Italian place you said you really like - "

"Ilio's," we chorused. It was the bare minimum, but I couldn't help but smile at the fact that he was actually listening earlier.

Oh why the fuck not? Shane wasn't a bad looking guy, and with the imminent threat of quarantine around the corner, I could use a night out before we were forced to stay away from society for God knows how long.

The longer I thought it through, the more nervous Shane became. It was honestly quite entertaining and I reserved my response for just a bit longer just so I could watch him fidget in his spot.

I finally spoke. "Pick me up at 7, then."

A look of surprise flashed across his face. I couldn't blame him - I had been rejecting every single one of his advances for the past three years we'd known each other. He was a dedicated guy, I'll give him that.

Laughing at his expression, I began to walk away before I could regret it.

"I'll call you!" He finally said. I could hear the smile on his face.

I threw him a thumbs up without looking back. I was a few steps away from my car when I suddenly recalled him mentioning something about visiting Rick tomorrow afternoon. "Let me know how Rick is doing!" I glanced back to make sure he heard me.

Redness spread across my cheeks when I saw him still standing in the same spot, staring at me with a dazed look.

I pushed a curl behind my ear, the wind wasn't on my side today. I waited for a response and it seemed he hadn't processed what I said. "Will you?" I pressed.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, I will!"

"Okay," I smiled. "Bye!"

Before he could respond, my phone began to ring in my back pocket. I fished it out and pressed it against my ear, holding it against my shoulder as I searched for my keys.

"Hey," I greeted, unlocking the car and shifting into drive as soon as the engine turned on.

"Daph, you on your way home?"

The call connected to my car and I saw Shane finally getting into his car as I drove out onto the small street. "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"We gotta start packing."

"Um, why?"

"Turns out, we're in the evacuation zone."

I caught my last glimpse of Shane, realizing our date would likely be rescheduled.

Glenn continued. "It's more serious than we thought."

Great.

next chapter...

#rick grimes x original female character #rick grimes x daphne ayala #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfic #glenn rhee #shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh x original female character #shane walsh fanfic

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bitchinbarzal · 1 year

Text

little slice of heaven | life with otis

summary; today of all days, they know he’s their little piece of heaven.

warnings; this talks about parental death, more specifically Brock’s dad, Duke. If that makes you uncomfortable please don’t read.

This year was a write off, you’d decided.

It was horrible from the off set and throughout. To go from last off season getting married and buying your first home to this one, spent by your father in law’s bedside. You’d spent the first half of the year facing issue after issue with your house build and receiving time after time, negative pregnancy tests.

You weren’t even in Minnesota when it happened. You were in Vancouver closing on your house sale, Brock told you he wanted to be at home in case.

He didn’t say anything on the phone, he just cried.

“I’m coming baby, just hold tight”

The day of the funeral was quiet, nobody spoke much and you didn’t blame them.

Getting back to the house where it was just family felt nice, everyone in there was grieving the same.

You’d been feeling off all day, dizzy and sick.

“How’re you feeling my love?” You mumble, kissing his shoulder and sitting down next to him.

“Numb I guess, Petey called”

“Yeah he asked me how you were, said he’s sorry he couldn’t come on time” you smile, holding his hand “Im sometimes worried he’s more of your wife than I am”

He chuckles, the first time you’d heard him laugh in a while.

“I Just… it doesn’t feel real that he’s not going to be here for things like my first cup? Our first child” he deflates and you can only run his hand soothingly

“I know baby, I’m so sorry”

“He should be here you know? I know we’ve been dealing with the negative tests and I’m so proud of you for your resilience. He was so happy for us and he won’t be here to see it when it’s finally a good result”

You couldn’t say anything, there was nothing to make that feel better.

Later that night, just before bed in the bathroom you were watching your face and looking for a towel. You pulled open the cupboards and a box fell out.

An unused pregnancy test lay at your feet. You looked at it and thought about when you’d last taken one. Deciding to just use it, the answer would be the same but a little bit of hope never hurt.

You’d used it, say it to the side and forgotten about it. Shutting off the lights and heading to bed.

Middle of the night, Milo had jumped onto the bed and woken Brock up so he decided to go to the bathroom while he was awake.

He saw it sitting there, confused he picked it up to throw it away before looking

pregnant

He dropped it, completely shocked. Forgetting the reason he was originally in the bathroom he walked back out to the bed and shook you awake.

You groaned “What? If the house isn’t burning leave me alone”

He smirked “You really thought you could get away with not telling me you’re pregnant?”

Your eyes shot open “I’m what?”

He looks equally as confused “You didn’t know? Who’s test is that?”

It dawned on you then “In the bathroom? Show me!”

He went in and emerged with it, you were now sitting up and grabbed it. Tears immediately filled your eyes “Oh my god”

You gave your husband a watery smile “We’re pregnant”

Brock engulfed you in a hug, peppering kisses all over your face “I love you, I love you! We’re having a baby, our baby!”

Laying there, staring out the window for the next few hours was bliss. His hand rested on your belly until you fell asleep.

When the sun began to rise and he could hear you snoring softly, his hand still hadn’t moved.

“Thanks, Dad” he mumbled, looking out of the window and towards the sun rising above the trees.

otis duke boeser

february 11th, 2023

He was early, but right on time.

Holding Otis as the Boeser’s filed into the room you smiled at the family fawning over him “Oh my he’s beautiful y/n”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“He picked some day to be born, eh?” Brock’s brother laughs.

“Yeah, Happy Birthday Duke and Happy Birthday Otis”

#life with otis

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oddballwriter · 7 months

Text

A Piece of Cake

Summary: You work at a food truck that sells baked goods, dessert foods, and other such things, named The Sweet Spot, with two other people who you've grown close to. Close enough that they know about your crush on the cook who works at the circus-themed food truck that you share one stop with. They're tired of you being too shy to make a move, so they help you get the ball rolling so that you two can actually talk to each other.

Warnings: Mentions of cakes and sugars. The reader gets teased by their co-workers a bit but nothing too harsh. Billie and Penny kind of ruining the moment while also making it a bit better?

Author’s Snip: I love this series and I wanted to make something for the sake of having something other than two sparse headcanon posts.

Notes: Go watch BigTop Burger and support the creator WorthiKids in any way you can. This show is such a delight and I love everything about it.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

"I'm gonna go stretch my legs." you tell your co-workers, almost out the door but their odd, almost sarcastic-sounding 'uh-huh's made you pause. "What? We hardly get customers at this stop, and our stock of food is fine. You can handle some customers while I'm out for a few minutes, can't you?" you question.

"Oh no. We'll be fine. For sure." one of your co-workers, Daniel, says, before speaking up again. "But how come you always want to walk while we're parked at this stop instead of all the others we do?" he asks, giving you a knowing look. "Like I said, we don't get customers here. It's half past noon. No one eats baked goods and desserts at noon." you say, trying to make up to defend your reasoning as to why you want to take a walk break at this spot.

"People also don't eat dessert at 1 pm, or 2am, maybe at 3pm, but those two other spots for one and two are okay to walk at too, don't you think, Y/N?" your second co-worker, Helen, suggests, with that same knowing tone.

"What's so wrong with me walking here. It's a nice walk around this block and there's some nice looking things here?" you ask.

"I bet there are." Daniel comments.

"Quit acting dumb. We know you just want to see that Circus Burger guy you have a crush on." Helen accuses. "What? No. I mean- I see him when I walk around sometimes, and I say hi, but I don't like him." you deny, even if Helen is right on the money. "And it's BigTop Burger. Not Circus Burger." you correct, trying to make her feel dumb for getting the name wrong, but you realize that it just makes you look more interested in him by knowing the actual name of the food truck he works for.

To be honest, they don't really care about your interest in him. They just like to tease you because of how much you deny it. And also because he wears clown make-up as part of his uniform and that makes the whole idea of you two kinda silly.

You look at your co-workers with a flushed face, knowing that even if you make a whole argument that you don't have a crush on him, they would know better.

"What's his name again anyways? Tom?" Helen questions. "It's Tim." you correct, again, this time with no defense. "Well. Why don't you take something for Tim and you two can talk. Maybe work up the courage to ask for his number too." Helen offered. "Or maybe just take him something for a couple of days and then ask for his number. One of the best ways to get to a man is through his stomach." she suggests.

"What should I take, though? We have so much stuff here." you say, looking at the plethora of cakes, cookies, brownies, rolls, and bonbons, the list could honestly go on forever and so could the various flavors, looks, hybrids of said things that you carried.

"Here," Daniel says as he moves towards the display and picks something for you. It was a slice of the funfetti cookie crust cheesecake. You look up at him with a 'really?' readable across your face. "What? His job has a clown theme. He might think it's funny." Daniel explains. You glance back down at the slice in its little plastic container that your truck usually puts your slice orders in before sighing and taking it.

"Go get 'em, Y/N!" Helen cheers as you actually step out of the truck and also hear Daniel shout "Don't worry, I'll pay for the slice!" as you walk forward.

The BigTop Truck wasn't that far from yours. It was just a turn around the corner and a small stride forward. It was impossible to miss the blue-colored brick of a truck once you turned the corner. As you got closer, you could see Tim leaning against the truck, on his break. As ashamed as it is for you to know that this time was usually his break time. 'Okay, Y/N. You can do this. Just walk up to him. You've done it before.' you think to yourself as you walk closer and closer. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you probably would have passed right by the BigTop truck and Tim if it weren't for him saying something.

"Hey! Y/N, right, from Sweet Spot around the corner?" Tim greets. "Out to stretch your legs again, huh?" he says. "Yeah. Sorta." you choke out, trying to both keep your cool and lower your excitement. "I brought you something." you say, holding out the slice of cheese cake to him.

Tim takes a second to look at it. "Oh wow. That's really something isn't it?" Tim comments. "Yeah. It's... something new on our menu. Some people have mixed feelings about it and," you explain, trying to come up with a reason why you'd just give him a piece of cake for free. "I was told to have someone kind of settle the score to see if we should keep it or not?" you conclude.

"I see." Tim says. "Well, I'll see how I feel." he remarks as he takes the container from your hands.

You somewhat avert your gaze so as to not make the situation weird by watching him eat. He uses the taped-in fork and takes a few bites pausing in between chews and taking pieces of certain parts to get the food as a whole.

"It's pretty good." Tim finally says, "No doubt, there's enough sugar in here to make a blood sugar monitor explode. But still good." he comments, trying to make a joke. "Yeah. I'm sure there is. If I'm being honest, this hybrid abomination feels like a culinary crime, but you know how it is with food trucks. If it's crazy enough it gets sales." you agree smiling a bit to show that you appreciate the joke.

Tim nods and even makes a few bashes himself. "Hey. I'm pretty sure we only have one or two people who actually like our food. I think everyone else is just trying it for the sake of seeing what it's like." Tim remarks, "I mean, our burger buns literally have sprinkles on them." he adds.

You think about the idea of how that would even taste and understand that that also feels like some type of crime against food as well.

"But hey. Your truck can get away with sprinkles. That's basically the go-to strategy for everything you sell." Tim explains. "I haven't eaten anything from there till right now with this, but your stuff looks good." Tim compliments.

You see Tim try and say something else after a long beat of silence but the window latch of the truck pops open and smacks him hard in the back of the head with a faint bunk noise.

"Hey, Tim. Steve wants us to head to the next stop early, for whatever reason, so-" a person with blue clown make-up and a cap on says, speaking low and monotone voice before pausing upon seeing you and their co-worker who was rubbing the hit spot, who was shooting them a quick glance.

Another person, this time a shorter, rounder woman with pink makeup, pokes her head out. She sees you and Tim as well but she changes to a brief shocked expression and speaks, "Sorry for the interruption. Tim, take your time. I need to talk to Billie for a second.", the woman takes hold of the window door and quickly throws it down to close it, but in the process hits Tim in the back of the head again. You hear her shout a muffled "Sorry!" from inside.

"Are you okay?" you ask. "I'm fine. Just fine." Tim assures. "That was Billie and Penny by the way. In case you wanted to know," he says.

"Thanks for the cake by the way it was really neat of you to offer me some." Tim thanks. "I'll keep that as a highlight of the rest of my day. Whatever that may entail." he says as he starts to walk around to enter into the truck.

You try your best to not squeal at the fact that he just called you, well, more like the cake, a highlight in his day.

You wave goodbye to each other before he gets into the truck and you turn to walk back to your food truck. Upon getting back, you find Daniel and Helen seemingly waiting inside for you.

"So, how was your date?" Daniel jokingly asks.

"He liked the cake," you say, "And I met his co-workers." you add.

"Ooh. Sounds pretty serious." Hellen buds in with a joke of her own.

#bigtop burger #bigtop burger tim #bigtop burger x reader #worthikids #youtube series #btb tim

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