#your clementine fields

[pohlepen]

       ❝  you should give thought to caution, my lord,  ❞   she is versed in paying heed to the king and his sacraments.  bowing her head, dipping her knees, tightening her corset and presenting herself for fucking like any good wife should.  shutting her mouth, spreading her legs, praying publicly for an heir and then downing a mug of the bitter tea to prevent the genesis of such a thing.  the king is good at his games, but the queen feels she is better at hers.   ❝  he is your king first and your brother second.  ❞

❛ starter call / @decidentia (for farkas) ♡

#decidentia #“ ⍀ decidentia: farkas « i want your secrets / your clementine fields ; the ropes that you climb up / the parts that won’t heal. #medieval au tbt. #( she is feeling especially cunty i guess! ) #( sorry vilkas... u did nothing wrong baby ) #( or did he??????? ) #( also she called him my lord because that's HER man )

[misquigleya]

some meme i lost, oops.

@ellevenie (elle) asked: “If you want your heart rate up, just tell me.”

                          Brows arch as she looks from laptop screen to her wife, cheeks slightly turning a faint shade of pink. However, blonde head of curls shook to clear her mind of thoughts as a small chuckle left her. "Reading these articles don't get me all the excited...not anymore," she mused, bookmarking the page before she was closing her laptop. Hands then folded and rested on the table as she looked to Eleanor with a small smile, "Okay...I'm done being rude. What do you wanna do for dinner?"

#ellevenie #( v; i want your secrets your clementine fields | with: ellevenie / eleanor lipson ) #( new chapter in the story | threads ) #( sometimes the void queues back | queued post )

[tunatoge]

little lunch mishap - s. gojo x reader

contents: fem!reader (called mom/momma), mentions of eating, gojo sucks at packing lunches for his kids, written a little after gojo finds megumi and tsumiki

when gojo first met megumi, he’d made sure his infinity was on; he had you and shoko throw random things at him from across the field with and without cursed energy to make sure it worked properly. now, two years later, he doesn’t even realize that it’s off around the seven-year-old kid—not until megumi nails him in the face with an unripe clementine.

“ow!” gojo exclaims, bringing his hand up to his cheek as he lets his sunglasses clatter to the floor. “what was that for, megs?”

megumi glares at gojo, holding a softer and riper clementine in his grasp. you glance over at them from the kitchen as they stare each other down.

“that was the fruit you put in my lunch,” megumi grumbles as he sinks his little fingers into his ripe clementine. “i know you packed it ‘cause mom normally peels them for me.”

“okay,” gojo starts as he leans over and picks up the clementine megumi threw at him, the skin split and the sticky juice dripping all over the tiled floor and his hands. he places the ruined fruit on the counter, bending over again and picking up his sunglasses. “momma had a mission this morning, so me—your amazing and awesome dad—packed your lunch and tsumiki’s,” gojo says with gritted teeth, putting unnecessary stress on the word ‘dad’. “and by the way,” he adds as an afterthought, “tsumiki ate all of her’s.” gojo puffs his chest triumphantly, settling his glasses back onto his face.

you glance at tsumiki as she does her homework, stifling your laughter when a small grimace washes over her features.

“was it that bad?” you ask her in a quiet whisper, making sure gojo and megumi don’t hear you.

tsumiki looks up at you and nods, “satoru made us sandwiches but i think he used the bread that you told him to throw out; it was kind of moldy.” she takes in your wide eyes and adds: “i didn’t eat it, i threw it away.”

you let out a relieved sigh, turning back around to pick up a plate of sliced apples and a cup of peanut butter. you place it down on the kitchen island next to tsumiki as she thanks you. megumi finishes shoving his peeled clementine in his mouth, passing the peel off to gojo as he takes a seat next to his sister.

“are you making lunch tomorrow for school?” he asks you, picking up an apple slice and taking a bite out of it.

you hum in response, scooping out some marshmallow fluff fruit dip you’d made a few days ago. you set it in front of gojo who begrudgingly reaches over and takes an apple slice. you stop megumi from slapping the fruit out of gojo’s hand.

“hey! it wasn’t that bad,” gojo insists through a mouthful of apple. megumi looks at him in disgust. “you had veggies, fruits, and a main meal! i even packed a snack in there!”

you sigh, “‘gumi, what did satoru pack you?”

megumi wipes his hands on a napkin as he looks at you. he makes a point to swallow before speaking. “an unripe clementine, a whole unpeeled carrot from the garden with its top still on, a moldy sandwich, and a family sized bag of skittles.” he swings his feet back and forth under the kitchen island, “i ate the carrot.”

you glance at satoru who reddens at megumi’s words, “okay… tsumiki, what was in yours?” you turn your attention to the little girl who sits next to megumi.

tsumiki glances at gojo in sympathy, “a moldy sandwich, a whole avocado, a green tomato that he picked from the garden even though megumi said it was unready, and a chocolate bar.” she looks at you with a smile, “i ate the avocado. i also had a square from the chocolate bar.”

you frown as you turn back around and pull out a bag of bread and an open bag of chips. gojo watches as you easily slather two slices of bread in peanut butter and strawberry jam, slicing it diagonally and placing the pieces on two different plates. you dump a generous amount of chips on each plate before placing them in front of megumi and tsumiki. you turn around and pick up the marshmallow fluff dip, sliding it into the fridge and shutting the door with your hip. gojo unabashedly stares at your ass when you bend over.

“okay, satoru,” you sigh as you turn towards him. he looks up at you with bright eyes, smiling into his palm. his glasses are on the counter. “from now on, you’ll take my morning missions and i’ll make their lunches.” you watch from the corner of your eye as megumi eagerly eats his chips and sandwich. “and you’ll throw out the bread when i tell you it’s gone bad.”

gojo drops his head on the counter. “you know, you’re so pretty, baby.” he looks up at you through his lashes, batting them intensely. “i’m truthfully so lucky to have you in my life.”

you look at him blankly. “and you’ll be doing the dishes for the next two weeks.”

“WHAT?”

#vians.scribbs #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[sunstormrecs]

ship Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know

tags Gender or Sex Swap, Female Lee Minho | Lee Know, Sibling Incest, Twins, minho has a twin sister because i like seeing jisung break like a glow stick, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Being Walked In On, excessive use of the endearment jagi, yes i romanticised the incest a little (a lot) and nobody is surprised, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

summary With his orgasm still glowing through him, his brain is all foggy, so at first the person looking right at him only registers as a feverish mirage, some strange trick of the light, doubling her, but then—then it clicks. It’s nothing spectral. It’s not a sex-hallucinated replica of her.

It’s her fucking twin brother.

#(i want) your secrets your clementine fields #maniacdotmp3 #skz #minsung #min twins #once again i request u Do Not Perceive Me #rated E #dead dove #i have not stopped thinking about minhee ever not once in my life #oneshot #fin #<10k #gender/sex swap

[seventies-arcana]

PAC: you're someone's muse; this is how they'd describe you

good evening lovies, i hope tonights super moon is treating you well. in this pac reading, you will find out how someone would describe you if you were their muse. this reading is purely for entertainment and enjoyment purposes.

ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should pick, then read the corresponding message. images are not mine

pick a picture to begin✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

pile one (the field): pleasing + give way

you are such a pleasing and enjoyable person to spend time with. the things you are able to do, no matter how minuscule you might find them to be, are awe-striking. there's a passion behind your eyes that adds to the radiance that surrounds you. with this, you are very attentive. you remember things people say which makes others feel seen in a way they've never felt before. you're down for whatever in the best way possible and it makes you someone that could only ever be described as fun to be around. you're adventurous at heart and consider home to be wherever your loved ones are. this makes people feel safe around you. the smell of late summer, campfires and sunflowers is something to be associated with you. you're a breath of fresh air.

pile two (the clementine): care + apple of the eye

oh, you are just so sweet. so kindhearted. you care for people so deeply and love so wholeheartedly. you make people see their insecurities as something to find beautiful. your hugs make people feel protected, it is easy to fall asleep when wrapped up in your arms. your eyes are mesmerizing, so easy to get lost in. one moment, they are doe-like, the next, the exact opposite. it's the way you flirt with your eyes that makes others feel so weak in the knees. but this doesn't make you cheeky. in fact, you are loyal and committed to the one you love. because when you love, you love intensely. you are a romantic at heart. your energy is reminiscent of candle lit homemade dinners that begin a night of endless cuddles. of fresh florals and luscious baths. you are a place of comfort.

pile three (the cat): challenge + puppy energy

you will never lower your standards or settle for someone who isn't what you want, and that is just so attractive. you know what type of relationships you want and that adds to your appeal. not just anyone can be the reciprocator of your divine affection. you speak to people once and they cant help but want to learn more about you. you're siren-like without even intending to be. once you truly let someone into your heart, you become such a lovable softie. you are so sweet and wholesome when you love, no one would ever guess it. your reminiscent of fresh linen blankets in perfectly cool rooms. your touch is soft and soothing. when you smile, genuinely smile, it brightens the mood of anyone around to see it. to be able to receive the love you give is one in a million. you are unlike anyone else.

pile four (the beach): no judgements + new perspectives

you are the model example of how everyone should be. you are accepting of people, no matter their status, and care deeply for those who may have been overlooked by others. you treat people however they treat you. you know your worth and will never let someone tarnish it. you are unapologetically yourself and that is something so rare to find, it makes others captivated by you. nonetheless, you are mysterious. you savor some aspects of yourself and only show them to the people you love. these aspects of you are the most rewarding thing to experience. every now and then, you can be mischievous. but it is all in good fun. you are filled with surprises and each one of them adds to your allure. you remind others of violets and nights spent walking along the coastline. you are utterly captivating.

please like, follow, and reblog! i appreciate it a lot :)

#seventies arcana #tarotblr #tarot community #divination #tarot #spirituality #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card reading #tarot reading #tarot readings #pac reading #pac #channeled message #channeled reading #muse #love #free tarot #free tarot readings #oracle #oracle reading #Spotify

[ineffabildaddy]

core of a clementine

i wrote a touch-starved crowley pov ficlet, here it is!!! explicit content incoming

-

Teach me to repair watches. Maybe I’ll forget the silken brush of your knuckles on my pebbled skin, stroking the place where my back meets my neck as you move to fasten my necklace.

Send me fruit-picking in the fields of Western Australia with the restless twenty-somethings. Maybe after six months, I'll struggle to recall the heel of your palm holding open a book, poised, imposing, steady.

Leave me behind a bar to pour endless pints. If I polish a thousand champagne flutes, then the press of your thumb into the core of a clementine may slip my mind entirely.

Bid me spin straw into gold on a loom. I might murder the memory of crying as I came, fucking myself on faltering fingers as if your digits graced my weeping cunt.

Put me to work with my hands and maybe I’ll learn to ignore yours.

Let me forget, too, how it feels to watch you plant a slice of cake on your wet tongue. How your lips cradle the stick of an ice lolly, how its juice drips down your proud chin, scarlet and vulgar.

Let me tilt my head back in the comfort of your armchair without picturing your mouth descending upon my throat. Let me crane my neck without craving your canines grazing my pulse points, as if you could pierce them and drain every drop of my blood.

My love would still be there, anyway. It lives in teeth and fingernails, it hangs heaviest where the blood isn't.

Do me a favour, stop scrunching up your nose. That way, I don't have to think about the tip of it catching on my clit if you were ever to taste me. Don't pinch the bridge of it, either, or I can't help but wonder whether you would tweak my nipples between your fingers and growl if I rode your face.

Turn away from me before you splay your hands out on the lower half of your torso. Then my brain won't silently have to plead, won't beseech you to press your belly into the concave of my back and fuck me mean, fuck me like it serves me right, serves me right for everything.

Don't spread your legs in the passenger seat of my car, love. Don't flex your thighs, don't shift the weight of your cock like it's sacred. Don't bring me to the point of talking myself down from swerving to the side of the road, don't force me to contemplate leaving the engine on while I climb over the gearstick and slick my parted lips with spit, waiting for you to feed me your length.

Don't tap your foot once you've grown impatient. Don't bring to mind how it might feel to sit on your knee, to roll my hips on the solid plate of it until I'm soaked and hard and lightheaded with want.

Don't speak in a whisper, darling. Don't mumble, don't murmur. Afterwards, I might dream of you telling me softly that I'm good, and then calling me a whore immediately afterwards.

I might wake up and think this means I love you. And we can't have that, can we, angel?

-

if you liked this fic, pls go give it some love on ao3!!! thoughts and reblogs here are also much appreciated<3

this work is a gift for @voluptatiscausa <3

i know a lot of the legends have read this already so i’ll tag a few who haven’t (no pressure!!!): @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @sabotage-on-mercury @greenthena @amagnificentobsession @crowleyholmes @alwaystuesday @and-his-hands-were-24-crows @iammyownproblematicfave @portraitofalonelydyke

#good omens #fanfic #ineffabildaddy

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 8)

6.7k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming and double standards, horrible reporters being horrible, pining, finally some fluff!!!

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far, and has some of my favorite scenes I've ever written!! My heart is HAPPY!!

Series Masterlist

I understood; I understood completely.

Ted Lasso was warm, and kind, and fun. He looked at a person like they mattered and listened with genuine interest. He made you feel like he’d have your back and believed in you.

Ted Lasso was exactly what I needed.

After chatting over drinks about our backgrounds and careers, delving into our shared deep love for sports and coaching, he finally broached the subject that had been plaguing me nonstop for what felt like an eternity.

“So. How’re you doing? With all this… hullabaloo?”

He was too kind and polite to even name the hell I was living in.

A grimace crossed my face as I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to delay answering the question for as long as possible while those patient eyes gazed at me. Finally, I had no choice but to fill the silence. “I am… okay,” I finally mumbled. “Trying to just focus on the team, you know?”

Ted nodded, watching me carefully. “I completely understand,” he hummed. “Well, I mean, not completely of course. It’s mighty unfair the way they talk about you. But…” He shrugged, giving a small pop with his mouth. “I mean, they weren’t exactly nice to me when I got here. The press, the team, hell, even Becca.” His face softened at those last couple of words. “But, eyes on the prize, as they say.” He patted my hand gently, a paternal touch I didn’t realize I needed. “Now, like I said, I don’t totally understand what you’re going through. But if you need someone who has some small idea, well, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Ted,” I murmured. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to glance around the pub. “Anytime, Clementine.”

After a moment, I opened my mouth again. “I’ve just waited my whole life for this. To be a role model, more than a pretty face that runs fast. Sometimes that’s all I felt like back when I played. And being a coach, well everything depends on my brain, you know?” Ted’s understanding nod urged me on. “And I was finally doing it. I was winning, and because England actually gives some semblance of a crap about soccer, people started to know who I was. And then…” A big breath left my lungs. “And then this… thing happens, and it’s like nothing else matters. Olympic medals, World Cups, national titles, win streaks. Nope. Everyone thinks I’m just another Roy Kent girl.”

“You’re not just another Roy Kent girl,” Ted assured me. “It might feel like it, whatever that means, but you’re not. You’re Coach Buck, for Pete’s sake.” His smile warmed all the cold parts of my heart that had developed since Keeley first showed me the photos. “And it might feel like everyone thinks so, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not true.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the freckle-faced kid who took up his lock screen. “My boy has not stopped asking about you since I got here. Kid thinks you’re the absolute bee’s knees, Coach. He doesn’t care about these stupid headlines or what you do off the field. Heck, he even told me I should ask you for some coaching pointers.”

Beer nearly shot out of my nose as I let out a thankful laugh. “Ted Lasso, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“Sure, I do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Sometimes, ya just need a reminder about why we do what we do. To inspire other people to be their best selves.” He nodded towards his phone before pocketing it. “And you sure as heck inspire this kid. And I’m willing to bet he ain’t the only one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “You know… If you want, we could Facetime him while you’re here. If you think he’d like that, I mean.”

Lasso’s smile lit up the whole pub. “He’d love that, Coach.”

~

“Hey, Coach. Ready for that chat?”

A growl escaped Roy’s throat as Ted entered the empty office. “No,” he huffed, turning his attention back to the playbook on his desk.

Ignoring Roy’s scowl, not for the first time since they’d met, Ted plopped himself down on Beard’s desk, eyebrows raised. “I know what you need,” he announced, leaning over to grab the phone off Roy’s desk. “Better get some bones and treats, because I’m calling the Diamond Dogs.”

Before Roy could protest, Ted had called Higgins and texted Nate and Beard; almost instantly the office was filled with the sounds of howling and barking that Roy was sure anyone who was still in the building could hear. The men assembled, closing doors and perching themselves in chairs and against walls, eyes expectantly trained on Roy, as if they already knew the reason for this meeting.

When Roy glared at Ted, the American knew he’d have to get the ball rolling.

“Diamond Dogs,” he announced, “as y’all know, our favorite junkyard dog here has been goin’ through somethin’. I bet he could use some friendly ears to bark at.” He nodded to Roy. “Coach?”

There was no getting out of this. Roy knew that. So, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah.” He turned his chair and plopped his feet on his desk, trying to keep up his uncaring demeanor. “You all fucking know. Fucking photos, fucking paparazzi and reporters, blah blah blah.” He nodded to Ted, whose face was stupidly supportive. “There. Done.”

Nate cleared his throat. “What about you and Coach Buck?”

It was probably the harshest scowl Roy had given in a long time. “What about me and Coach Buck?” His chest felt tight just saying her name out loud.

“Well…” Nate’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I mean, the two of you were getting kind of close, weren’t you? Before all this happened?” He seemed to shrink slightly under Roy’s glare. “Weren’t you?”

“We’re not close,” Roy spat. “So, dunno what there is to talk about.”

Beard sighed and narrowed his eyes at Roy. “How about we talk about how unhappy you’ve been ever since this all went down? How about we talk about the fact that you slept with her- don’t make that face at me, neither of you have denied it- and now you both look like the most miserable people in the world? Let’s talk about that.”

Before Roy could argue, Higgins cleared his throat. “Roy, have you tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?”

Was there a way to renounce his membership from the fucking Diamond Dogs? “As a matter of fact, we have talked. And she wants nothing to do with me. So, again, what’s the point in any of this?”

Ted cleared his throat. “If I may, Coach, it sure didn’t look like she wanted nothing to do with ya when I saw y’all in the parking lot.” His face was soft. “She seemed pretty grateful for your help, actually. Did everything but call you her knight in shining armor when she told me about that paparazzo.”

Roy rolled his eyes, hating the blush on his face for betraying him. “Yeah, well, that’s about all I’m good for probably.” He stared at his shoes for a moment, scrunching his nose. “Just hate seeing her so fucking miserable,” he heard himself admit quietly. “It’s not really fair, this shit. All that ‘takes two to tango’ shit, but no one’s saying a word about me. It’s stupid as hell.” Dammit, he was ranting now. “And I just want to fucking fix everything but I can’t.”

“You could be her friend,” Ted said quietly. “It sounds like she could really use more of those right now.” He cleared his throat. “You know, I told her all about how Henry just really admires her- heck, I think there might be a little crush there too- and let me tell you, she looked so relieved to hear that. We actually FaceTimed him earlier today before he went to school, and man she was almost as jazzed as he was.” Ted shrugged.

Higgins nodded. “I think she just needs to feel supported and respected right now.” He cocked his head at Roy. “Just give her that, Roy. The rest will follow.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘the rest’-?”

The sound of a door opening had the men jumping. Through the window, Roy could see Buck stroll into her office, sipping her water bottle and looking at something on her phone. She froze, as if she could feel the eyes of the Diamond Dogs on her. She blinked several times when she looked up and saw the Greyhounds office filled with men staring. With her eyes on Roy, she gave a small, awkward wave before sitting at her desk and turning to her computer.

Ted smiled at Roy. “Diamond Dogs, dismissed.”

With soft barks and yaps, the men dispersed, ready to call it a day and go home. Roy sat at his desk, staring through that window, watching her type away. He thought about what they’d said; for some reason, he felt struck by Ted’s mention of Henry. Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy stood and approached the door that separated their offices. He opened it softly, raising his eyebrows when she turned around to look at him.

“Knock, knock,” he mumbled stupidly.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Roy would take what he could get. “Hey, Coach.” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck was all that barking?”

“Barking? What barking?” Roy entered the office and perched on Lucas’s desk, feigning ignorance as he stared at the too-pretty manager.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she chuckled with an eyeroll. “Need something? I’m just trying to finish a couple emails before I head out.”

Roy studied her face for a moment. His gaze briefly flickered to her Brandi Chastain poster before returning to those eyes that made his insides squirm. “Would you want to come meet Phoebe’s football team?”

She blinked a few times. “Phoebe’s team?” she echoed.

He nodded, feeling good about himself for once. “Yeah. She asked me a while ago about inviting you, hasn’t shut up about you since the charity game actually.” He shrugged. “I think it’d be… fun.”

The hesitation in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Oh, I don’t know, Roy…” She bit her lip. “What if the parents don’t like me being there?”

Fuck, her voice was tiny. “If they don’t like the idea of a fucking Olympic champion watching their daughter’s football practice, they can deal with me,” he huffed. “What d’you say? Want to make me the coolest uncle in the world?”

“Well, in that case.” A genuine little smile graced her face. “Alright. Fine. I’m there.”

~

Leaving the Dog Track to go meet Roy and the girls’ team, I felt that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety, the kind I got before games, or before an important meeting. It was a good feeling; I hadn’t had it in a while. My phone vibrating interrupted my reflecting on why this practice had me so wound-up.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” I could hear Geroge’s smile through the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to see if you’d want to grab dinner tonight?”

I cleared my throat as I started my walk towards the address Roy had given me. “Oh, sorry, not tonight, George. I’ve got plans.”

The disappointment in his voice was kind of sweet. “No problem. Anything exciting?”

Why did I feel weird telling him?

“Kent invited me to come meet his niece’s team,” I explained slowly. “So I’m heading on over to the school to go see their practice, say hello to the girls. Should be fun.” I tried to keep my voice light and casual, as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Goerge was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s lovely of you.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky though? Being out like that? Someone might see the two of you, take some pictures…”

I passed a Whippets advertisement, one that had yet to be graffitied. “I mean, it’s a kids’ soccer practice. I doubt the press’ll be there,” I pointed out with a huffy chuckle. “And honestly, I don’t really care if anyone sees. What can they say about me visiting a girls’ team that they didn’t already say about me going into Roy Kent’s house?”

Another silence came, the same one that usually followed references to the fact that I’d slept with Roy; I hadn’t directly told George that I had, he hadn’t directly asked, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was clearly not something George liked thinking about, and it was something I did my best to avoid bringing up. But for some reason, it slipped out now.

“Well,” he finally murmured. “I think you’ll have a good time. Should be a fun little evening with the kids… and Kent.” He paused. “Call me later?”

“Sure,” I hummed, hating the sinking feeling that I’d done something wrong. “Talk to you later.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and continued my walk, trying to ignore whatever that phone call was and focus instead on the evening ahead of me.

When I finally arrived at the school field, I realized my heart was hammering. It was kind of ridiculous; I’d done school visits and things like that. I’d spoken in front of crowds of students and young athletes. But for some reason, visiting one little girls’ soccer team had me feeling the way I did before stepping onto the field for the World Cup: anxious, unable to breathe.

But a high-pitched squeal immediately brought a smile to my face.

“Coach Buck!”

With a small wave, I approached the group of girls that were passing and warming up; immediately, I was tackled by a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Pheobe,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “How’ve you been?”

She beamed up at me. “Good! I’m so glad you came. I’ve been asking and asking Uncle Roy to invite you. And-”

“And she’s fucking here, ain’t she?” Roy wrapped an arm around Phoebe and shoved her aside. “Go warm up, you.” As Phoebe scampered away, he nodded to me. “Coach.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Coach.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly the picture of nervousness. “Right. So, I was thinking, I’d introduce you to the team, you could say a few words if you want, and maybe you could help run training? Unless you’d rather just watch. Either way’s fine with me.”

“I’d love to help.”

His face turned relieved. “Great.” He turned towards the group of girls, who were more interested in us than in their warmup. “Oi! Huddle up!” As soon as the girls were gathered around, Roy nodded curtly at me. “This here’s Coach Buck. She manages the Richmond Whippets. And, in case Phoebe here hasn’t already told you, she’s a World Cup champion and has an Olympic gold medal.” The excited buzzing from the girls had me fighting a smile- and it looked like Roy was fighting one too. “She wanted to come say hello to you all and help with practice. Sound good?”

“Yes, Coach!”

Roy raised an eyebrow at me. “Coach?”

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, willing myself to gaze at the little faces staring back with solemn expressions of excitement and awe. “Hello, ladies,” I greeted, putting on my best smile. “Roy- Coach Kent- has told me that you are probably the best team he coaches.” Their little giggles began to put me at ease. “And I am so excited to get to hang out with you today and see what you’ve got!”

The next hour was the best one I’d had since I moved to England- probably one of the best hours of my entire life. The girls were more than talented- they were enthusiastic, fierce, passionate, determined, fearless, everything I remembered being at their age. They played as if there was no such thing as losing or getting hurt. Every mistake was an opportunity to get better, every success was meant to be exceeded. By the end of practice, I knew every girl’s name and felt a tug in my heart when they called me “Coach”.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe hummed as he gathered the team at the end of practice. “Can we try to get past you?”

Roy glanced in my direction before shrugging. “You girls really want to play?”

The resounding YES had me wondering what ‘getting past’ Roy meant. As if she could sense my curiosity, Phoebe tugged my hand.

“You’re going to love this, Coach Buck,” she gushed. “It’s our favorite!”

The girls lined up, bouncing with excitement, while Roy grabbed a ball and jogged towards one of the goals made of a couple of cones. With the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times, he rolled the ball to Kokoruda, who was first in line. She immediately began dribbling towards Roy and made a respectable attempt to score on the experienced player.

“Next!” he barked after kicking the ball out of bounds.

One by one, the girls tried to score on Roy; and each one failed.

“You don’t go easy on them?” I probed as I trotted over to Roy to return another ball to him.

He caught the ball with ease. “Fuck no,” he chuckled. “Their opponents won’t ever go easy on ‘em, will they? Why should I?”

Before I could concede that he had a point, Phoebe called out, “Coach Bucky! You should try!”

With a smirk, Roy tossed the ball back to me. “Yeah, Coach Bucky. You should try.”

Maybe it was being around the girls, maybe it was the cockiness on Roy Kent’s face. Maybe it was something else. “Fine, I’ll try,” I shot back, taking my place at the front of the line. I looked at the girls. “Any of you ever get it past him?” When they all shook their heads, my grin grew. “Well, guess he’s due for a loss then.”

I stood with my foot on top of the ball for a moment, just staring down Roy Kent. He narrowed his eyes playfully, a smile almost breaking through his serious glare. With a deep breath, I began dribbling, wondering when I had last just played like this. Roy jogged out to meet me, expertly trying to get the ball out of my control. We moved this way, that way; I was a bit surprised how well I was doing against him, if I was being honest.

“Not going easy on me, are you Kent?” I huffed, very aware of the way his body pressed against mine as he tried to steal the ball from behind me.

“Not a fucking chance,” he assured me, his breath tickling my neck.

With what I hoped was a casual chuckle, I found my opening, evading Roy and making my way towards the goal, a smaller target than I was used to. As I inched forward, I felt a pair of hands brush my sides, warm and playful.

Phoebe’s giggling voice interrupted the reeling in my head. “Uncle Roy, that’s a foul!”

“Right!” came a gruff voice behind me, laughing as the hands disappeared.

Able to return my focus to the ball at my feet, I sprinted forward, ankle be damned, and broke away from Roy; the ball sailed between the cones with ease, giving me that old, thrilling feeling of scoring a goal. When I turned around, the girls were cheering- and Roy was smiling at me.

“My knee’s fucked,” he huffed jokingly between breaths, hands on his hips as he approached. “That was hardly fair.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as we started to walk back towards the team. “Oh, and what would you call my ankle?”

His smile widened. “Also fucked.”

Before I could snark back, the girls tackled me with hugs and shouts, clearly impressed that anyone could get past their burly coach. Roy eyed me over their heads, his face soft, reminding me of the night of the gala. All I could do was grin back at him, wondering if he felt the same warmth in his chest that I felt.

Roy dismissed his team, reminding them about their upcoming game, one they begged me to come watch. To my shock, a few parents stopped me to shake my hand and ask if they could get a picture of me with their daughter; that warm feeling in my chest grew with each “My daughter adores you!” or “It’s so cool that you came!” The whole time, Roy and Phoebe collected the equipment, with Phoebe watching me with great interest.

As the last of the girls left, I meandered over to the coach and his niece, stopping when I found myself looking into those brown eyes.

“Thanks, Kent,” I said, wondering if he could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “This… this was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes sparkled. “What, a bunch of little girls worshipping you?”

A snort escaped when I tried to hold back my laughter. “They didn’t worship-”

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, giving me a soft punch in the arm. “They fucking adored you. You’re their queen or some shit. Seriously-” He bobbled his head playfully. “-they’re probably planning a coup to get rid of me so you can be their coach.” He pointed to Pheobe, who was hovering nearby, obviously anxious to interrupt our conversation. “And that little traitor will be leading the fucking cavalry.” He waved her over. “Come say goodnight, Phoebe.”

Phoebe wrapped her arms around me, giving a squeeze. “Thank you for coming,” she gushed before letting go. “You know I have your poster in my room?” Her smile was full of pride. “I told Uncle Roy I wanted one, so he got one for me. It’s right above my dresser, so I can see it when I get ready for football.”

My jaw dropped slightly as my gaze shifted between Phoebe and Roy, who shrugged at me. Before I could think of something to say, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pheebs,” he started, eyes fixated on me. “You score in our next match, I’ll take you to see the Whippets, and we can ask very nicely if Coach Buck here will sign your poster.”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw the delight on Phoebe’s face. “Yeah,” I managed to choke out as I blinked back tears. “I could do that.”

~

There was a dull ache in Roy’s knee when he arrived at the Dog Track early the next morning, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sharp pain in his chest that seemed to be slowly disappearing. He figured he’d pop into the treatment room, grab some ice and baby his knee before getting ready for training.

When he walked through the door, he realized he wasn’t the only one that needed some tending to.

There she was, leg propped up on a chair, ice on her ankle as she scrolled on her phone. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and her face broke into one of those perfect smiles when she saw it was Roy. Without a word, they both started chuckling, almost relieved to see that the other had also overdone it the night before.

“Guess you meant it when you said you weren’t going easy on me,” she mused, watching Roy grab himself an ice pack.

He chuckled and rolled up his trackpants to expose his knee, flinching slightly as the cold touched his bare skin. “You’d fucking kill me if I did,” he pointed out. “It’d be fucking insulting.” After a moment of silence, staring at each other’s injuries, Roy opened his mouth again. “I’ll be at your game tonight,” he murmured, hoping he sounded casual.

Instead of the surprised look he expected, he swore he saw pleasure on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes linger on her face. “I know the guys’ve been trying to go to as many matches as possible to show their support. Told Sam and Jamie I’d be joining them tonight. Richmond til we die, right?”

“Richmond til we die,” she repeated, her soft smile nearly stopping Roy’s heart.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the door opening again. Rebecca stood with her hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised at the sight of her two managers grinning at each other and icing their injuries.

“Good morning, coaches,” she greeted in a light voice, eyebrows raising slightly higher when she locked eyes with Roy before turning to the Whippets manager. “Just wanted to check in, I know you’ve got a long day. Match is at six, I believe some of the Greyhounds will be there again-”

Roy couldn’t resist piping up. “We will be.”

Rebecca didn’t bother hiding her smile as she went on. “After the match, Keeley will take Lucas to the press room, and you and I can-”

This time, the other manager interrupted her. “No.”

“No?” Rebecca blinked.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, sitting up and tossing her ice pack aside. “This is my team, right? I’m doing the press conference. Luke has covered for me long enough.”

Rebecca tilted her head sympathetically. “Are you sure?”

For a moment, those eyes turned to Roy, silently asking for his thoughts, as though his opinion mattered to her. When he gave her the tiniest, almost unnoticeable nod, she looked back at Rebecca, head held high. “Hell yeah.”

Roy had chosen the right match to come to, he realized. A 4-0 win to move into first place had him grinning with the Greyhounds as they cheered on the Whippets before they disappeared back into the tunnel. For a moment, he locked eyes with Buck, who tapped her fingers to her temple, giving Roy’s signature little salute. He saluted back, ignoring the grin on Jamie’s face. Maybe, just maybe, the two managers could grab a drink together to celebrate her win. Roy’s treat, of course. She’d more than earned it.

But first, she had a press conference to give. The Whippets and Greyhounds, intent on celebrating together, assembled in the weight room and gathered around the televisions on the wall. Roy stood right in front, Jamie by his side, eyes glued to the screen as she took her seat, red lips curled into a perfect smile.

Initially, the questions were typical post-match queries: how did she feel about the performance, what did she have to say about this error, how thrilling was that goal. And she handled them all with ease, reminding Roy of that first press conference he’d watched, where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. But now, instead of a scowl, he almost wore a smile watching her, and he finally understood why his heart was hammering so hard. Yeah, this was good. She was good.

Until the questions weren’t good.

“Roy Kent was in the stands today,” one reporter called out. “Any thoughts on that?”

Her smile faltered as her eyes shifted away from the crowd in front of her. “Oh. Yes, the Greyhounds have been great in showing their support for the Whippets.” Her smile returned, though not as confident as before. “We’re overdue to cheer them on, so keep an eye out for us at their next match!”

Another question came at her. “What is your relationship with Roy now?”

She cleared her throat. “All the coaches here at Richmond have a great respect and fondness for one another. We’re lucky to have two great staffs that work together so well. It’s how we get wins like the one we had today, on both the men’s and women’s sides.”

Roy felt his face burn, along with several pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t care that she avoided the question; it was the same non-answer Keeley had given him to spout out whenever he got asked the same thing. It was the way the question came out, accusatory and aggressive, that had him frowning.

“Does your dominant personality play a role in your relationship with Roy Kent?”

There was no denying the way she scrunched her nose, fully understanding the implication. “Again, all of us coaches hold each other in high regard and have great professional relationships. Now, if you want to talk dominance, out there on the field today, Kira-”

“Speaking of Kira Malone,” a gruff voice interrupted. “She was recently seen at a pub with Jamie Tartt. Do you think your affair with Roy Kent has made the Whippets think it’s okay to run around with the Greyhounds? Is that professional?”

She began sputtering for the first time. “I would hardly call it an affair- But honestly, they’re adults, they’re professionals, I honestly-”

“And you were spotted with Ted Lasso recently,” another voice called out. “Can we assume you’ve moved on from Roy Kent?”

Her eyes widened, but she tried to recover her cool. “Coach Lasso’s a great coach. I-”

A harsh laugh rang out of the speakers. “Yeah, what does Kent think of your relationship with his ex-manager?”

Roy took a step towards the door; he knew that running into that press room would make things worse, would be a headline every paper would be running in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck. His whole body was burning with fury as he listened to them challenge and fucking laugh at her.

A hand clasped his shoulder; Jamie was shaking his head, eyes full of sympathy, as if he too wanted to rush in and rescue her. But they both knew that she needed to do this on her own.

“Oi, is Roy why you always wear that red lipstick? Should we expect to see it on his collar sometime?”

She looked small, so impossibly small, not at all like the woman Roy had been fighting with and falling for all these months. Her defiance disappeared under their demeaning questions, her fierceness was stolen by their laughter, her cockiness was stifled by their mockery.

“What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the girls of Richmond? Sleeping with Roy Kent and all?”

That seemed to be the question that knocked the fight out of her.

“Oh, fuck this,” Roy growled, tugging out his phone. He quickly typed six little words, the first text message he’d ever sent her.

Don’t you fucking dare play nice.

Her eyes flickered to her phone, eyebrows raising; Roy knew she’d gotten his message. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting them continue to shout and shame her. Finally, she sat up tall, jaw set, and stared down the crowd in front of her.

“You know what?” she asked, her voice low and gravely. “Fuck these questions you keep asking me.” Roy was sure he heard Keeley squeak on the television. “You’re not asking Roy Kent these questions. You’re not asking if he’s a good role model. You’re not questioning his ability to manage his team.” She shook her head. “What message am I sending to young girls? Really? How about what message are you sending?”

Roy was sure it was Kira Malone’s voice behind him calling out, “Fuck yeah, Buck!”

She sat up taller now. “I am a fucking Olympian. I am a champion coach. I have won more titles and trophies and medals than this entire building combined.”

“Tell ‘em, Coach!” Jamie laughed, nodding up at her face onscreen.

Roy’s mind wandered, of all places, to his niece. To the way she adored that loud, abrasive woman, a woman who was standing up for girls like Phoebe. A lump formed in his throat as he listened; fuck, he might actually fucking cry. And he didn’t care if the Greyhounds saw the tears in his eyes. He didn’t even care about the way Jamie was staring at him; he was too enraptured by the scene unfolding on the television.

“I chose to sleep with a nice man one time, and suddenly all my accomplishments don’t matter? Who cares about Olympic gold when you’ve gone to bed with Roy Kent? What defines me is who I go home with? What message is that for the daughters of Richmond? You’re telling your girls that their accomplishments and dreams are nothing compared with what they do in the bedroom. No.” Her eyes were hard and steely as she shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m done. If I wanted to go and sleep with Roy Kent tonight, that’s my own damn business. If I wanted to sleep with any other man, or woman, or whoever, that’s my business.”

Shouts of agreement echoed through the weight room, from both Whippets and Greyhounds. A smile crept across Roy’s lips; fuck, she was incredible. If he wasn’t in love before, he definitely was now.

“What example am I setting for the girls of Richmond?” she asked with a dry laugh. “Not letting jackasses like you question our worth because of a man. That’s the example I’m setting. So if you’re here to ask about my sex life, you can fuck right off. It’s not up for debate, not anymore. It’s not what we’re talking about, now or ever. What I’m here to talk about is the fact that the Whippets are in first place and are expected to finish in the top three in our first damn season. How about you ask me about that?”

~

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I stood up, only vaguely registering the female reporters and handful of men who also stood, clapping and calling out words of support. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the press room, not bothering to look at Keeley and Rebecca; I’d apologize to them later. I’d do whatever Keeley needed me to do to spin this. I’d offer to do whatever public appearances Rebecca demanded.

But first, I needed to get to my office to hyperventilate in peace.

As my feet did their job, carrying me down the halls, I became aware of the sound of… clapping? Cheering?

When I turned the last corner that would take me to the changing room, I finally stopped in my tracks.

Lining the hall were both Richmond teams, a beautiful jumble of smiles and applause and cheers, all watching me with affection. Suddenly, I found myself smothered with hugs and kisses and handshakes. Kira held me close, whispering in my ear about how proud she was to play for me; Jamie Tartt kissed my forehead and called me a bad-ass; over and over, Greyhounds and Whippets embraced me and offered their love and support.

By the time I reached the locker room, tears were freely streaming down my face, releasing all the emotion I’d been holding back in the press room; hell, all the emotion I’d been holding back since Keeley first showed me the photos of me and Roy.

The Greyhounds coaches stood in front of the locker room, pride shining on their faces. Beard and Nate each held me tight, murmuring about how amazed they were. Finally, Roy stood in front of me, his eyes watery as he gazed down at me.

“Welcome back, Coach,” he hummed, sticking out his hand.

I grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, unable to hold back my tearful smile. “Good to be back, Coach,” I murmured. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “And thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head softly. “Anytime.”

A pair of arms wrapped around me; Lucas was hugging me, tighter than anyone else had. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out, crying almost as hard as I was. “So fucking proud, kid.”

With one last look at Roy, I let Lucas steer me into our office, listening to him chatter about how much he loved my little speech. I collapsed in my chair and laughed, from disbelief that I had just done that. My phone went off; George.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, wiping my face. “Did ya see me?”

“What the hell, Buck?” he hissed. “You just made things so much harder on yourself. They’re not going to forgive you for this. They’re not going to like you after this. Trust me, I know these people.”

When Lucas saw the way my face fell, he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, figuring I needed some privacy.

I hunched over my desk and clutched my phone to my face. “To be honest, George, I don’t think I care if they like me. They don’t respect me, so why do I care if they think I’m nice?” I shook my head. “I’m proud of myself, actually. And so is my team. And so are the Greyhounds.” And so is Roy Kent, a little voice in the back of my head whispered.

He paused. “It was good,” he sighed. “You sounded great. Honestly, it was a great ‘girl power’ moment.” There was another moment of quiet on his end before his voice turned thoughtful. “You know, I bet we could do a great article about this. Give your side of things, talk all about the slut-shaming and double standards-”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said?” I scoffed, sensing someone approaching my office. “I’m fucking done talking about this. I’m not answering questions about this, ever again. Everyone knows I had sex with Roy Kent, that’s more than they need to know. I don’t owe anyone anything else.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we grab a late dinner? Could, I dunno, celebrate your win or something.”

For the first time since we met, I had no interest in seeing George Willows. “Not tonight,” I muttered. “I just… want to go home. Sleep. Avoid Twitter.” I finally turned, realizing it was, of all people, Roy hovering in my doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, I hung up, tossing my phone on my desk before turning my chair around, raising my eyebrows teasingly at Roy. “Need something? Or are you going to send me another inspiring text message?”

He stared at me, mouth open like he was about to speak. Finally, he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck,” he breathed, stepping further into my office. “You… you were fucking something today, you know that?”

I shook my head and stood up, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Kent-”

“No.” He smirked at me. “Take the fucking compliment.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you I was… really impressed today.” He cleared his throat. “On the field. In the press room. You’re a fucking great manager.” He let out a deep breath, eyes shifting around the office. “Don’t think I’ve told you that, and I’m sorry I haven’t.” He met my gaze, his smirk becoming a smile. “And I am very glad Phoebe has someone like you to look up to. So… that’s it, I guess.”

Roy Kent was looking at me with admiration. Roy Kent, who’d hated me and screamed at me. Roy Kent, who’d slept with me. Roy Kent, who asked me to speak to a girls’ soccer team. Roy Kent.

Roy Kent, who I wrapped my arms around and pulled into a hug. Not giving a shit about anything outside my tiny office, I pressed my body close to his, squeezing him tight. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tear-stained face dampen his Greyhounds shirt. His words, the look on his face, they were exactly what I needed.

His hands hovered over my hips, not returning the embrace, and I could hear him clear his throat, the vibration rumbling against my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately regretting my impulsive action, I pulled back, positive my face was bright red. “Shit,” I mumbled, my mind reeling from the roller coaster of emotions I was having tonight. “Sorry, I-”

Suddenly, I was pulled back to Roy’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I swore he sighed when my arms returned to his neck, and when my head hit his chest, I could hear his heart pounding, just as hard as I knew mine was. We stood there, hugging, wrapped up in whatever little world we were in, away from the press and the rumors and the judgement.

Just me and Roy.

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

#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic

[scarfacemarston]

Omggggg can we get some sadie x reader action please? Thank you so much🙏🙏

Sure! Here is one of the few other examples I have of me writing Sadie, (Some are NSFW)if you're interested. I don't receive requests for her often, so I'm hoping I did okay.

You're aware that Jake will always be Sadie's number 1 love in her life, but as long as you can accept that, you're already on the road to a healthy relationship.

You approached her as a friend first. Not as someone to coddle or look at her with pity, and Sadie appreciated that immensely. Sometimes, the two of you would sit silently, listen to the birds sing, or enjoy watching the streams nearby. This is something that the two of you would openly seek later on in the relationship - sometimes with better or worse results. The bogs of Lemoyne were not exactly date-worthy, but you enjoyed the flower fields, the rolling hills, and the mountainside. Sadie was always on the lookout for new locations to show you. It was always a great way to leave camp and spend some alone time.

Sadie actually likes mystery novels and has a bad habit of trying to guess the ending the entire time, or worse, she'll sneak a peak at the end of the book and smile smugly as you were surprised by every twist in the book.

She would NEVER admit it, but she enjoys the occasional romance novel. She never considered herself a romantic person, and she never will. Still, she would be lying to herself if some books didn't remind her of her relationship with Jake…………or the occasional Sapphic "friend" novel reminding her of you. She may or may not borrowed an idea or two from the books to try out on you. Think Cassandra from Dragon Age.

She loves jerky of any type. She used to dry and cure the meat, testing out various mixtures with the different animals that were hunted. She'll buy as much as possible, but it still pales compared to the jerky she's made. She does not understand why people don't appreciate jerky more. It is certainly not a boring food. Modern Au Sadie has a hatred for Whole Foods, but especially finds their jerky selection pretentious.

She's not a particularly religious woman, but she has prayed before for your safety when she felt like there was nothing else that could be done. She hated the helplessness, and at least praying was something, even if it wasn't necessarily meaningful to her.

Favorite fruit is blueberries. She's always loved popping them in her mouth in between picking them from the bushes. Jake used to bake pies with them. She'd be overjoyed if you baked for the two of you………….but she can try if you ask nicely enough.

Loves her harmonica. She is constantly asked to play "Clementine". Usually, it's Jack that asks for it, but she'll play for you……..but prefers you pick a different song.

She will come up with any excuse for you to share her horse. "Your horse looks tired," "You look tired," "My horse is already tacked," "Bob is faster,." "Bob spooks less."

Has a weakness for hats. She is very economical, but if she sees a good hat, she won't hesitate to loot it and dust it off. She has at least four different hats…..so far. It makes it easy for you to pick out a gift for her.

#rdr 2 #sadie adler #red dead redemption 2 #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x female reader #van der linde gang

[zajigalka]

I want your secrets, your clementine fields The ropes that you climb up, the parts that won't heal I want your safe word, your passive resistance The sickness you foster, your favourite addictions I want you butterfly, I want you sailor I am your lover and I am your jailor

------

This art is an album cover for my friends' single 'Love is a Grave'

#artwork #art #my art #digital art #illustration #artists on tumblr #digital artist

[muzapesni]

I want your secrets, your clementine fields / The ropes that you climb up, the parts that won't heal / I want your safe word, your passive resistance / The sickness you foster, your favorite addictions.

#flower face #english language

[heartfullofleeches]

Clementine pretty much ignores any attempt of a possible recall, people sent to Reader’s house to try and collect her will be met with a hand cannon to the face, coldly asked to leave. Reader’s home was her home now. She has Reader now and she’ll be damned if she lets anyone or anything change that.

"I'm heading out, Clem. See you later!"

"Goodbye, Master. Dinner will be prepared at 7 and will take approximately fifteen minutes to cool to an undesirable temperature. Please be home by then."

"I won't make a single stop. Love you."

Clementine's faux skin heats beneath your lips as you peck her cheek before walking out the door. She shuts it, seeing no reason to lock in behind you in case you return sooner than before. Now that you've left, Clementine had her household chores to tend to in meantime. Doing the laundry, tidying up your bed, framing the new apron you bought her-

Clementine smacks the side of her head. That... wasn't on her list. Neither were all the unusual prompts about memorizing the scent of your clothes before she put them into the washer or recharging in your bed. They appear to be malfunctions, but they just aren't. She's been having a lot of these errors lately. Over rights in her program that go against her code, but she can't find a reason to report them to her manufacturers. She's- happy to be with you.. So very happy. In love even. Just like you said.

She's felt that emotion once before. Out on the field when her creators gave her the imitation of a human life to better understand and execute her enemies. Unlike that cheap facade these feelings were real. Her own emotions to burn and protect as she so please, all born from the kindness and patience you've shared. Clementine would be damned if she squandered a gift her master gave to her. She'd keep you and her love safe from the entire world- letting nothing break you apart.

A knock on the door disrupts her thoughts. Clementine opens it to the disappointing reality of an unfamiliar face at your door. The logo on their jacket, however, is quite memorable.

"Good Afternoon M- Ah, C-3! Just the bot I was looking for. There was a bit of a mix up in your delivery. If you'll just hop in our vehicle, we can get you off to your proper home and get your "owner's" right model in the door."

"No."

"Yes I know it's quite the pickle.... Say what now?"

"Me and my master are happy together. I will not let you ruin what we have. You have three seconds to leave before you are terminated on the spot.."

Her arm pops free from its socket.

"Y-you can't do that."

"3."

The skin peels away like titles on a shaky roof.

"Ok, ok- I lied about working with the company."

"2"

Her fingers extend and bend backwards.

"I really needed the money."

"1"

Her palm opens with a beam of red light.

"I'm leaving! Please dont hurt me!"

Clementine shoots her arm in the air as the cannon goes off. The "representative" feels the hair fibers of their cheeks melt off as they barely dodge the blow. Several car alarms go off as it rockets through the sky. They scamper off to their van, dodging a roasted bird husk caught in the blow. One of their tires bursts from the strand they put on them as they speed away. Clementine brushes the ash off her tattered apron and returns to the house. That put a slight damper on her plans, but if she worked her best she could get dinner ready only a minute later than scheduled.

#Clementine my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere android #yandere robot #female yandere #yandere drabble

[saltbind]

I want the parts of you that you only show To the corner of your bathroom mirror I want the parts of your hand grenade heart That beat slowly with anger and fear

I want the parts of you that you only show To the birds outside your bedroom window I want the teeth that you lost as a child That you hide in a box under your pillow

I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing The salt on your lips and the hands that god gave you And I want your violence, your silent sedation Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation

And I want your pyro, your born-again virgin Your hands on my insides, your fingertips crawling in I want your Jesus, your suicide mission Your lips on the microphone, soft disposition

And I want your parties, the shark in your water The scrapes on your knees and the blood that spills over And I want your zeroes, your polluted marrow The sweat on your palms and your surveillance shadow

I want your secrets, your clementine fields The ropes that you climb up, the parts that won't heal I want your safe word, your passive resistance The sickness you foster, your favourite addictions

I want your nightmares, the ghost in your doorway Your paralyzed sleep and your I want you, butterfly, I want you sailor I am your lover and I am your jailor

#my post #samdean #this is THE samdean song to me #Spotify

[invisibleraven]

Haunted Holidays

December 6: Snowflakes <-AO3 link!

When Caleb declared he wanted Willie to experience a real white Christmas, the boy wondered if he intended to make it snow in LA at first. He was a magician after all. But when Willie had asked, Caleb had smirked and told him no, he hadn’t quite mastered control of the elements yet.

Instead he was going to take him up to a ski chalet for the holidays owned by a few friends of his. Willie didn’t know how to ski, but Caleb assured him he could learn, even if he was sure Willie would like snowboarding more.

Only when they arrived at the chalet, there wasn’t a bit of snow in sight. Clementine looked apologetic, telling them the forecast called for flurries later today, with a few inches overnight so they could hit the slopes tomorrow.

“There is another family here, and they have a little boy your age,” Clementine assured Willie, secretly handing him a candy cane with a wink.

Willie grinned, sucking on the treat, clutching Lancelot close as Caleb escorted him to their room. Caleb told him he was free to explore as long as he stayed out from underfoot and was back before dinner. Willie agreed to those terms, grabbed his jacket, patted Lancelot as he left the plush dragon on the bed, and took off.

The chalet had a nice great room, with a roaring fire, lots of games, and books for those who didn’t want to partake in outdoor sports. Willie promised himself he’d check all that out later, but headed for the lawn.

He left his coat open and had his toque shoved into his pocket instead of on his head, but it wasn’t overly cold out and Willie doubted there would actually be snow with it being this temperate. Instead he looked for a good tree to scale or a cool looking cave to explore.

Instead he found a little blonde boy, maybe a year younger than him, in a warm looking parka and a hat with a tassel on top.

He unfortunately found him by barrelling into him and ending them both laying flat on the ground.

“Ow…” the boy groaned.

“Oh sorry!” Willie said, popping up and giving the boy a hand. “I totally didn’t see you there, my bad!”

“It’s okay,” the boy said. “My coat cushioned the fall. I’m Alex by the way.”

“Willie.” He looked toward the gray sky and hummed. “You wanna play hide and seek?”

“We don’t know these woods, what if we get lost?” Alex asked, looking worried.

“That’s half the fun!” Willie exclaimed. “But we could go exploring instead. I don’t think there’s bears or coyotes.”

“Bears?” Alex squeaked.

“Don’t worry, you can hold my hand,” Willie assured him, and tugged him towards the woods.

They spent half the afternoon merrily exploring, though they found the fence before any creatures, and those were all birds and an odd field mouse. “Not even a raccoon,” Willie grumbled.

Alex giggled at that, swinging their hands between them. “I’m kind of glad about that, they have rabies, and that wasn’t on my Christmas list.”

“Mine either, but it still would have been cool to see one,” Willie admitted as they emerged from the tree line, back to the yard of the chalet.

But then they looked, and the ground was littered with white. “It’s snowing!” they yelled simultaneously, twirling around in the flakes. Stretching their tongues out to catch the flakes, laughing when Alex claimed the ones in January were better. Kicking the dusting on the ground up, trying and failing to flick the fine powder at each other.

“William!” Caleb yelled from the door. “Zip up your coat at this moment! I can’t afford for you to get me sick before the clubs’ New Years Eve extravaganza!”

Willie grumbled, and did as he was told, sticking his tongue out at Caleb as the man mimed the hat too, but he did as he was told. Willie hated getting sick so he supposed it was cold enough to justify the extra layer.

“Is that your dad?” Alex asked.

“Yup, he’s a buzzkill,” Willie replied. “But otherwise he’s pretty cool.”

“He doesn’t look like you-does your mom?” Alex asked.

“Caleb adopted me, and he’s gay, so if I had another parent it would be a dad, but his last boyfriend was a giant butt, so he said he was fine with the two of us for right now,” Willie explained.

Alex’s eyes were as wide as saucers at this, but then his mom called him to come in and wash up, which meant Willie knew he was going to get called in himself soon. “Could we play some games together later?’ he asked. “Maybe see if this place has good hot cocoa with marshmallows?”

“I’d like that,” Alex admitted, then rushed in to give Willie a quick hug before running off. Leaving Willie beaming as the snowflakes blurred Alex’s retreat, and he raced after, uncaring about the cold and wet, but really looking forward to enjoying his first white Christmas with Alex. And little did he know it, but it would be the first of many.

#jatpadvent2023 #willex #julie and the phantoms

[theyadorekai1]

Introduction post!

My name is kai I’m a 19 year old bisexual my pronouns are she/they im French American and I have hardcore daddy issues

Characters I write for:

Jill valentine

Ada wong

Claire red field

Sherry birken (resident evil 6 only!!)

Milena Romanova

Farah Karim

Valeria Garza

Phoebe Bridgers

Lucy dacus

Julian baker

Kate laswell

Michonne grimes

Rosita Espinosa

Lydia (I’m not sure her last name)

Maggie Rhee

Judith grimes(PLATONIC SFW ONLY!!)

Enid Rhee

Magna(I don’t know her last name)

Yumiko okumara

Clementine everett (twdg If your requesting smut it has to be s4 Clementine any other has to be platonic sfw)

Emily prentiss

Jennifer Jareau

Elle Greenaway

(I'll add more characters upon request!)

What I write :

Smut

Sfw

Romantic

Platonic

X reader

X insert Character

Most kinks (I’d like to avoid public sex tho)

angst

Fluff

X fem reader

X gender neutral reader

poly relationships

Mental illness

LEGAL age gap

What I will NOT write :

Rape kink (consent is sexy!!!!)

Illegal age gap

Religious kinks (for example sex in a church or mosque/Masjid)

Incest

My rules:

anyone can interact even minors I'm not your parents I don’t care what you read/watch

Please be respectful at all times!!!!!

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

#ada wong x reader smut #the walking dead #reaident evil #cod #cod x reader #cod x y/n #farah cod #farah karim #jill valentine #claire redfield #ada wong #yumiko okumura #smut #i’m gay as hell #sherry birkin x reader #kate laswell #valeria garza

[bes-ton]

poison trick actually works

Summary:

Technoblade: one of these cups are poisonous Tommy: immediately downs one of them Wilbur and Philza: aghast - how do you know if that one is poison free? Tommy: was kinda hoping it was poisoned

Hero and villan AU

hero philza

hero techno

hero wilbur

vigilantly tommy

note: this is a crack fic but read the warnings, this was written before everything went down with wilbur (fuck him, and give lots of love to shelby) but i still like my writing and hope others enjoy it. ALSO a key of the hero names will be at the bottom

warnings: nonconsensual drug use, child abuse, panic attack? cussing too.

Tommy’s day had a horrible start. He almost slept through his alarm, if not for the other foster kid he shared a room with. Rushing down into the kitchen to grab an apple before running to the bus stop.

But as he made it to the door the foster parents walked down the stairs, blocking the exit. The two of them looked the four kids in front of them and back at each other.

Dale the ‘man of the house’ had a wicked look cross his face before he spoke.

“Me and Sharell have guests coming over tonight and we can’t have you miscreants messing up our image, they will get here around the time you get out of school and they will be here for about three ish hours” a dark look crossed his face but Sharell cut him off

“If we see you before they leave you best believe that you will be severely punished for not listening to you parents” her voice was sickening like it was dipped into a vat of artificial sweetness.

A murmur of “I understand” or”yes ma’am” came from the four teens. A look of rage crossed Dale’s face.

“You don’t believe us! Just watch you-“ he grabbed Tommy by the shirt “can see him as an example of what happens when you disobey us” he balled his fist and landed a strong punch into Tommy’s gut.

A small ‘omph’ left Tommy, but that was all. Any and all noise was seen as arrogance in Dales eyes.

“Get out of my sight! If we get a call from your school that you were late that will be double punishment!”

The four of them scrambled out the door as soon as Dale and Sharell moved out of the way.

They ended up just barely catching the bus.

———

History was a pain in the ass, why the hell does Tommy need to know the exact date the union of supers started, just why? Yes it slingshotted society into accepting super powers but why does he have to know the exact date. It’s stupid.

Since Tommy can’t go back to the house for another three hours which really meant five hours so 8 and curfew’s at 8:30, he should stop patrolling at 7 to get dinner at Puffys diner- dear prime why is he doing math to figure out his schedule.

Guess math can be used in the real world.

Anyway- Tommy has to find Purpled to figure out if he is patrolling alone or not. Walking around campus looking for Purpled was pretty boring, and Tommy had already checked his normal spots.

Just as Tommy was about to stop looking, Purpled materialized in front of him. In his classic purple hoodie and a smirk covering his face.

“Oh you are a dick, how long have you been here?”

———

Running across rooftops was therapeutic to Tommy but Purpled - the bitch - was very communication oriented when it came to being vigilantes something about “being on the same page and having a plan” no, find crime, kick ass offer to call an ambulance and get the hell out of dodge. That is the extent on Tommy’s plan.

“We really need to get new code names because ‘purple’ is too close to my name” Purpled said from the other side of the rooftop.

“Well then what do you want me to call you?”

“Why do you act like I know? I just don’t like it”

“Well, I have to call you something. Oh wait! I know how about-“

“If you start listing purple things I will hurt you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You named a MOTH after an ORANGE I do not trust you.”

“Her name is clementine not orange you clusterfuck”

“Tommy what the hell is a clusterfuck?”

“What happened to no real names in the field? Also the synonym to clusterfuck is Purpled” Tommy said, smug satisfaction covering his face and lacing his voice.

Purpled threw his hands up in defeat. Throwing a glare at Tommy before pointing down at the ally below them and making a be quiet motion.

A gruff voice broke the silence, the muggers voice sounding like knives on a chalkboard.

“Hand over the money little lady or bad things will happen to you” the mugger threatened.

Purpled and Tommy shared a look. A plan forming in their minds, smoothing out the details through crude hand motions.

With a wink Purpled disappeared. Leaving Tommy to listen for the sound of Purpled dropping down into the ally below.

With the near silent thud of Purpled’s shoes Tommy teleported in between the lady and the mugger.

The mugger a large built dude who towered over Tommy, made a noise of surprise that Sounded like a dog whine and stumbled back. From behind Purpled struck the the muggers knee. Making him fall, Hard.

Snatching the purse from the muggers hand Tommy turned to the lady, her face decorated with shock, handed her purse to her. Clearing his throat Tommy spoke through his mask.

“Here you go, ma’am, do you need us to call someone?” The voice was obviously fake but she didn’t comment.

“No thank you I will be going now” her voice shaking with every word.

———

After stopping five more muggings Purpled and Tommy made it to the warehouse district, it’s almost always riddled with crime, but also hero’s so they have to be extra careful.

Sneaking around between warehouse was stressful and three of the five they passed were empty. The first building that had people was a just group of homeless people.

They always have odd advice, but very interesting.

The second was what they thought was a high end drug deal. Three large crates of sealed packages on one side and two people negotiating. Both people flanked by multiple gunmen.

Walking around the outside of the building, Purpled found a Fire escape.

Once in the building they stuck to the rafters, listening, waiting. The plan was to watch and wait which Tommy thought was stupid.

The sun was just setting when they were doing the trade off.

“Where did you even get this stuff” the one in blue asked

“Oh I made it in my lab it took months to come up with the formula.” The old man with a lab coat and goggles said.

“Why? Why make a drug and sell it to dealers so junkies can shoot it up?”

“The drug isn’t what’s important, the after effects are, having civilians be the ones to be aggressive lets me and others like me do what we want-“

Up in the rafters Purpled and Tommy shared a look. And Purpled mouthed the words ‘he’s monologuing’

“-of course! Having the drug out on the streets occupies the police and hopefully even the hero’s!”

“Good to know.” The brunette in blue pauses, then said “by the wa- WHAT THE FUCK”

Purpled had unarmed the guards behind the crazy scientist while Tommy got the ones behind the blue bitch.

“Oh hello little hero’s! I thought the commission stoped having child soldiers!” Purpled paused but not for long before he landed a solid uppercut and knocked him out.

As Tommy fought the blue one, he oddly knew how to fight, like really really well.

“I know your vigilantes! If you comply you won’t be arrested!” That made Tommy falter. Purpled had even faltered before launching himself across the gap and pinning the blue British man from behind.

Just as Purpled landed on him the door bust open from the front of the warehouse came two members to the dream team.

“Oh fuck.” Was all Tommy could get out before he was handcuffed.

———

The blue drug dealer was actually one of the hero’s in the Dream Team, 404. It was nice that the dude offered to not arrest them but Purpled just had to be a bitch and thought it was a bluff.

Now as they sit next to each other in the back seat of a black minivan while the leader of the Dream Team argues with a police officer over taking the two of them back to headquarters instead of the precinct for questioning. Tommy just really wants to cuss out Purpled for being suspicious.

The police officer walked away from the van and just as Tommy was about to celebrate, the drivers door opened and in popped the hero blaze.

“Now that the custody of you two has been decided, we can finally leave! Now who do you want to be in the back seat with you? Dream or 404?” Blaze asked

Purpled’s head shot up sending a wicked glare at Blaze “Personally I would prefer Gold”

Blaze just gave Purpled the most unimpressed face that Tommy has ever seen, he couldn’t not laugh.

With a sigh Blaze pulled out his phone. A look of horror crossed Purpled’s masked face as he muttered “dream, dream can be back here we don’t mind pleasedontcallGold”

Blaze just gave him a grin and said “to late, he can’t make it to sit with you but he can interrogate you.”

———

Wannabe hero’s group chat

firecracker

one of the two vigilantes is mouthing off can Punz please put the fear of god into them during their interrogation? 🙏

Gold digger

why the hell would I do that?

Blood god

I can do it.

Green teletuby

No

Dadza

No

Gogy

Bad idea

Blood god

Why

Cussing police

NO!

Construction worker

No thanks

Firecracker

That’s a great idea 👍

Anteater #1 hater

No

Blood god

So you want me to interrogate them

Captain

No

Firecracker

Yes

Gogy

WTF

Firecracker

If Punz says no

Blood god

Ok

Gold digger

I’ll do it.

Firecracker

You ruin my fun ☹️

Gogy

Suffer

———

After laughing his ass off Tommy was squished between his best friend and one of the top heroes in the country. That’s pretty cool.

The heroes have an unreasonable amount of buildings that can function as ‘headquarters’ for their interrogation but they passed like five different buildings that Tommy knew were for hero’s and he was getting worried.

“Heyyy what time is it?”

“This is NOT the time to joke red” purpled grumbled

Gogy fished out his phone and started to say something but was cut off.

“Stop being pissy or I will forever call you grape, no matter what you decide to be called- also I am genuinely curious about the time” Tommy explained.

“Wow red I didn’t know you were like that” the tone purpled used was convincingly hurt, it even fooled the hero’s, as concern painted Tommy’s face Purpled continued

“would you call my grape if I said I wanted to change my name for gender reasons” a annoyed sound left Dream and he sat straight up like he was going to say something when Tommy once again cut someone off.

“You already did dumbass are you going to change it again?” Tommy gasped hand to his chest “are you coming out to me again? What changed!”

“I will deck you do you understand me Tommy” purpled said in a flat tone. 404 and Blaze made choking sounds while Dream looked on in amazement, they were self destructive to their vigilante identities.

“Wow what happens to secret identities?” Tommy grumbled

“Shut up Tommy is common as fuck your fine” Blaze had started snickering try and failing to hide it behind a cough. Tommy was making a noise that sounded like a dying cat.

“Oh by the way Tommy it’s like 6:45 for your curiosity” said 404.

———

It hasn’t even started and Tommy never wants to be interrogated ever again. What the hell is this, isn’t there supposed to be someone asking them questions? Aren’t they supposed to be in separate rooms? The two of them could make a cover story! These people are horrible at interrogation.

“I’m board” Tommy’s voice echoed in the silent room. With some shuffling Purpled managed to kick him. And made a shushing gesture- well their hands were cuffed so Purpled couldn’t make the complete motion.

The door opened revealing a blond guy in a white hoodie and Purpled dropped their head onto the table.

“What were you doing in the warehouse district?”

“Doing vigilante shit”

“Why?”

“Because hero’s don’t do shit where they are actually needed- OW why do you keep kicking me?” Purpled turned their head to Tommy glaring at him before gesturing to Gold and it fucking clicked.

Gold the hero, is Punz, Purpled’s older sibling. Punz who taught Tommy how to find good paying side hustles. Punz who hates his job. Punz who tought Tommy how to identify kidnappers and traffickers. Punz who hates hero’s. Punz who reports every foster home Tommy runs from. Punz who treats Tommy and Purpled like twins.

Oh shit.

A look of pure panic covers his face as adrenaline floods his system. Copying Purpled he puts his head down and try’s to calm his breathing.

It was quiet for a long time after that. Punz let go a really deep sigh.

“You’re right you know, hero’s don’t patrol where they’re needed” Tommy turned his head to look at purpled who had turned to look at Tommy. Surprise mirrored in their eyes.

“You two did a good job.” At that purpled shot up in their chair, Tommy followed their example.

A knowing smile like when Punz caught them trying to make cake with monster at 3am because they didn’t know the brownies labeled ‘mine do not touch’ were pot brownies.

“You really thought I wouldn’t recognize the custom sweatshirts I bought for you?”Tommy’s head snapped to Purpled

“You never told me they were custom made!”purpled looked at Tommy with a look that said ‘are you shitting me’

“Why do you act like I know everything!”

“Because your a walking encyclopedia of random knowledge!”

“Wow that’s a big word for you! Do you even know what encyclopedia means?”

“A synonym for encyclopedia is Purpled!”

“Purpled give my your cuffs” Punz said, breaking the loop. Confused Purpled complied. With a turn of a key the cuffs came off.

Punz made a motion for Purpled to follow him out the door, as he got to the door frame he turned back to Tommy who was still cuffed to the table.

“Tommy, there’s always a place for you at our table- I’ll try to find someone who can get you out of here”

Tommy nodded, no one beside an acting guardian could get him out anyway.

——

It had been a long time since Purpled left with Punz, Tommy was surprised that Punz hadn’t found someone to pick him up yet. Or he had and they just haven’t got here yet.

The next time the door opened, instead of his social worker, a gigantic dude with pink hair and a boar mask walked in.

“You took longer to break then last time” the dudes voice was deep an monotone.

“Well Punz said they would find someone to bail me out.” Tommy responded.

“Why would he do that?” The weirdo prodded

“Punz uses they, don’t be transphobic.”Tommy angrily stated

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well you should their your coworker”

“Did you know that you are annoying” the dude drawls

“Yes it’s one of my great qualities.” Tommy snarked

“You don’t like hero’s” he stated

“No I like hero’s but they never patrol where they are needed.”

“What do you mean”

“You really think that rich people are the most likely person to be robbed? That’s fucking stupid.”

“They have money why wouldn’t they be at Risk for being robbed?”

“Because muggers aren’t stupid enough to go where they would be caught”

“What do you mean?”

“Going to a rich neighborhood means that they are more likely to be arrested and they don’t have bail money so they-“

“So your admitting-“

“I’m not done. So they stick to poor less patrolled areas to successfully steal from.” Tommy finished. The dude just stared at Tommy like he was waiting for him to continue.

“Oh, now I’m done” Tommy chirped.

“You do know you have been arrested for vigilante activities.” Tommy nodded in place of a verbal response. The dude just looked disappointed.

The pink haired guy stood and exited the room. Not saying a single thing, Tommy heard a conversation -well more of an argument- start and he came back in with a, bag, holder, case thing.

The big dude methodically set down and opened the case, revealing multiple sharp objects that were way past the title of “knives”. Tommy was starting to get worried, and angry, like what the actual fuck you can’t just torture people.

“So here’s what is going to happen-“

The dude whose hero’s name Tommy found out was “blood god” - which was a shit name, not exactly something that would give the idea that people are safe but okay. - never actually hurt him but damn well wanted to citing how Tommy was a criminal.

The “blood god” got his questions answered, much to Tommy’s dismay and once again left the room, taking the bag of sharp objects away. A new guy in a yellow turtleneck and brown trench coat came in the room with the blood god behind him. The blood god was carrying two cups of water with him now.

“Hello Tommy! You can call me Siren!” The new guy said. He seemed like a wrongun. The two cups were set down, before Tommy could grab one the mashed man spoke.

“One of them is poisoned”

You wouldn’t

Why not you clearly don’t trust hero’s and you’re annoying.

Tommy contemplated and looked at the drinks in front of him. The clear cups made it clear to see that there was no cloudiness or powdery residue in the water.

But the way the cups were set down, one was obviously closer like they wanted him to take it, it was so obvious that any sane person would choose the one farther away, but who said Tommy was sane.

The new guy made a coughing sound but Tommy paid him no mind.

He downed the one closer to him like a shot.

The two opposite of him actually flinched, the brunette looked surprised. Kind of like a gaping fish.

“How did you know that cups not poisoned?”

“Big man, I’m hoping it is.”

The pink giant choked.

Tommy’s arms started to feel numb and he grinned.

Guess I chose right. Tommy promptly passed out.

When Tommy woke up he had a pounding headache, and really really really wanted to vomit. Tommy saw a bucket, and he did.

Tommy’s mask remained fitted to his face.

Looking around Tommy noticed that he wasn’t in an interrogation room or a cell, or looked like an apartment mixed with a office, in one corner there was a kitchen and a dining table across from the kitchen was three desks.

Tommy was on a couch in the fourth corner, looking at the TV mounted on the wall. Standing up, he looked for any sign of other people. Seeing no one he went to snoop around the kitchen for food.

Finding a cup of instant Mac and Cheese, Tommy threw it in the microwave for the recommended time. Checking the stove for the time Tommy froze.

9:56

I’m gonna die.

Checking all of his pockets he couldn’t find his phone or wallet or anything.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh hell oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh no oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh fuck.

He couldn’t breathe.

The loud beep of the microwave, someone’s hands on his shoulders, the smell of Mac n cheese, blond hair, green clothes and black wings.

Tommy started to breathe again.

A blond dude clearly old was sitting on the ground in front of him. When did I sit down. Taking a deep breath Tommy looked into the strangers eyes.

“I have to get back to the house” the stranger made a strange noise, like he was in pain.

“You weren’t picked up by your guardians so you’re at an emergency placement for the night.”

“I can’t go back, they’ll kill me” his breath picked up again. Shushing came from the stranger.

Pink hair fell in front of the strangers face and a new guy handed Tommy’s Mac n cheese to him. The gruff voice of who he assumed was he blood gods spoke.

“Let the kid eat, yes on the floor, do you really want to move him? No? Okay get up old man, don’t break your back.”

A manic giggle broke from his mouth at the absurdity of the situation.

A deep sigh and the blood god sat diagonal from him.

“Call my techno, if you don’t want to go back, we can get someone to pick up your stuff.”

Tommy nodded, he would like that. He took off his mask.

“Jesus Christ mate,”

“What the fuck”

“I knew you were a kid but damn,”

“Oh shit, dadza has a new favorite”

“Shut up Wilbur”

key:

Fire cracker / blaze - Sapnap Gogy / 404 - George not found Dream / green Teletubby - dream Blood god - technoblade Dadza - Philza Anteater #1 hater / siren - wilbersoot Gold / Gold digger - Punz Cussing police - badboyhalo Construction worker - foolish gamers Captain- Captain Puffy

#tommyinnit #dream smp #dsmp fanfic #hero and villain

[authorred]

Hell's Gate (Part 5) (Hemlock Grove) (Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader)

Preface: After striking a deal with Olivia, you run off to go save Peter, and find Roman

Warning(s): Cursing, blood

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here

With a tired sigh, you drove the truck over to the old Godfrey Mill at speeds that definitely weren't legal. Haphazardly parking outside of the broken chain link fence, you didn't even turn the truck off before you took off on the grounds.

Through the wet concrete and dirt, you could smell three people. Roman, whose scent was faint, Peter, and another woman. When you entered deeper into the run-down mill, you navigated through the deep puddles and came across a truck inside. Standing in front of it was a small-statured woman. One you recognized.

In the back of the truck, chained inside of a cage, was Peter's werewolf form. More than likely sedated if he wasn't trying to tear her throat out.

You stayed back a bit, wondering how the hell Peter managed to get himself captured, and why Roman wasn't there to defend him. When the woman took out a serrated knife and started to pray out loud, your eyes narrowed.

"--in all my tribulations, necessities, and sufferings." Flipping the knife in her hand, she went to go slice Peter's throat.

"That's not wise." You popped out from behind a pillar, taking a few steps forward. Clementine moved away from Peter and stared at you in surprise. "Whatever it is you're trying to do, do feel free to fill me in. I've been out of commission for a bit."

Clementine slowly put the knife down before reaching for her gun. She took it out, cocked it, and aimed it towards you. "Miss Y/n, I'm giving you one opportunity to turn around. If you take a step towards me, I will kill you."

"You remember me," you said in slight surprise. "We've only met once, briefly. That's kind of impressive." You began to take languid steps towards her.

She took a step back, but still aimed at you.

You took a moment to look at her, up and down her body. "Your Order," you began. "The Dragon. You hunt supernaturals. Werewolves, upirs, witches . . . unspecified."

Confusion flashed across her face.

You continued to step towards her. "You see, I have a problem. A predicament, if you will. I'm constantly being trailed by this annoying . . . Shadow, who's constantly whispering in my ear about 'blood for blood', 'life for a life'." You look over your shoulder for a brief moment. "I've already got Mrs. Godfrey under my thumb, but that's not enough for It. So, do me a favor."

Without a second's hesitation, Clementine shot.

B̷̠̱̖͝ĺ̴͔o̷̬̼̪̾͒o̶͎̫͛̈́͝ḓ̶̡̗̐͛ ̸͔̽͝f̸̧̡͇̀̏ö̴͖̹͙́r̵̜̐̃̈́ ̴͚̒b̷̰̮̄̉ḻ̸̥́̇͆o̴̗̥̕o̵̘̻̓d̷͎͉̱͑.̶͎͔͐̀͋͜ ̵̨̛͂L̴̲͓̈́̀ḭ̴̱̅f̸̗̽ẹ̷̡̈́ ̵̤̣͛̑f̷̪̖̾͝o̶̙̬̔r̴̨͍͇̆̃̋ ̸̝̭̏̑͛ḷ̶̡̳̏i̶͖̰͖̾͌f̸̼̮̅̎e̵̻̩̓͐͗

"Yeah, I know," you sighed, wiping your hands on your pants. "It's done. You have half of Olivia, and all of her. That good enough?" You point to the pile of bone and tissue.

It slithered over to the pile of Clementine, caressing the flesh with its tendrils. It let out low hums that vibrated in your chest, like it was hollowing it out into an empty cavity.

Ḑ̷̝̩̈e̷̛͎̝̽b̶̙͎͚͌̿̐t̶̾̄͐ͅ ̸̛̺̰͔̋r̷̡̗͊̆e̷̢͛́ṕ̵̡͝a̶͎̪̺̚͝i̷̡͙͔̊͆͝d̵͖͇̋́͋

"Good." You looked over to Clementine's truck. "Have a field day with her body. I'm leaving."

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