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#horrible puns terrible puns
trademarkdraws · 10 months
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headcanon based on charlie being a demon and mariana being an angel: mariana wears her gloves 24/7, constantly, all the mf time, and nobody really knows why
hell take them off anywhere but home, because if not whenever he touches slime he'll go all goopy and itll burn wherever mariana touched, like holy water or some shit
i dont think itd be like. painful, leather carseat on a hot day burn, but mariana still keeps them on. mostly as an excuse to keep the cosplay on hand
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vicshush · 2 months
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Bell's Hells Terrible Horrible No Goodberry Bad Day.
[ID: A digital drawing over the first illustration from the book Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst, illustrated by Ray Cruz, where Alexander stands with a grumpy expression and crossed arms in front of his bed, in an untidy bedroom. The Critical Role character Ashton Greymoore -- a green earth genasi with purple crystal hair, gold streaks on his arms and face, and a lump of colorful glass patching his fractured skull -- is drawn over Alexander, keeping the overall art style and the sulky expression. Overlaying the bedroom are swirls of red dust, a bright red vertical beam in the background, and a lumpy brown outcropping meant to represent the rural town of Razora, as well as lighter brown streaks below Razora with a stream of water that drops from the suggestion of subterranean space to swirl around the bottom right corner, where black branchlike tendrils reach toward Ashton. /end ID]
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her-devils-advocate · 6 months
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Val came home drunk after the night out with Tina and Verda, falling into Nate's arms with a giggle before unleashing the worst pun of her life onto him
Val: So since becoming vampires, I guess none of you need aids such as glasses or so
Nate: Yes, that would be correct, why?
Val: So that's why you can "see well"?
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at first I thought that the way az gets rid of the demons is kind of lame and then I remembered that good omens is a fever dream. a halocination if you will.
bro was furfur named because he can't pronounce Fs? does that make him ineffable?
when I saw the crows though I thought that can't be a good omen.
if they cast az out like the last few supreme archangels will that mean aziraphale
When angels fall does that mean they're demonted
yk the Angel Phone? I guess you could call them halograms
if people get in a demons way does he hornk his horn
when Crowley thinks people aren't listening does he tail off
Bro if the angels aren't super reactive but a little reactive would that make them halogens
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tealeafconnoisseur · 4 months
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Horrible puns part 1 of ???
Topic of the dairy....Udders
Have you seen cow tiddies? Just the udder size of them.
Also the way cows produce milk is udderly fascinating.
And when you milk a cow in Australia you're going down udder.
Thanks for coming to my teat talk.
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mcaquila · 1 month
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More WIPs from that mystery fan project (though we do see a pretty recognizable character here, whatevs), the point is I wanted to upload these to note for posterity that the kid on the top left WAS going to get "Heel" as his surname because he got a foot cut off before his death. Because I have a terrible sense of humor.
But it had to be omitted for reasons. Sigh.
Or should I say.... it had to be CUT OUT bwahaha.
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thousand-winters · 2 years
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Okay, but hear me out. Eberwolf's been confirmed to be like a little brother to Darius, right? So if Darius adopts Hunter, Eber is of course going to be part of the family.
So if we got Dadrius, we can have... ✨ Uncl-Eber ✨
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teddysterk · 8 months
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Imagine a mushroom being in the Tword community he would be such a fun-gi 🤣
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Top Pun
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Picture a remake of Top Gun, except the trainees are all cats. I guess Charlie would also need to be a cat, otherwise that sex scene would be very weird.
I for one, cannot wait for a trip to the cinema to see Meowverick and Miceman face off on the beach, knocking a ball of yarn back and forth.
Please comment with your best Top Gun/cat puns, and we can get a script whipped up.
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Tumblr do your magic: organic chemistry dad jokes with dimethicone
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monarch-ambrosia · 1 year
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brb creating a piece of media with two main characters named stephanie and abby just so the internet can ship them and the ship name can be stabby
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jjjennybear · 2 months
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imagine you're an actor and you get hired for this salad commercial and they take you to the dressing room and it's just a room filled with salad dressing.
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hngh
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I guess you could call th
guess you could call that a
a redsto
r
redstone lamp
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chanrizard · 2 years
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🤡.
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pursuitseternal · 5 months
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“Persuade Me,” Ascended Astarion tells you, a sub!Astarion, all tied up for you in “The Rogue You Were”
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Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.9K persuasive dom/sub bdsm smut
Summary: He’s so terribly stubborn, it will take a lot of persuasion to get him to come around. All tied up, it should be easy, but no matter how *hard* it is, it will be… delicious for you both…
CW: bondage, sub!Astarion, tender confessions, possessive and stubborn Ascended behavior, persuasive bedroom techniques so effective, he tells you the reason he can’t let you out of his sight, why you are not just… some… spawn…
Based on “Just A Drop🩸”
Read on AO3 | Astarion fic Masterlist
How will you persuade him…
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen Lord Astarion all morning,” you give your most convincing look of worry, of concern and confusion. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, painted lips pouting as you close your dressing gown tightly around your body. “Perhaps try the grounds? Everyone knows he enjoys a good stroll in the dawn…”
And with that you shut the door in the poor trembling servants face. A brief flash of relief on their fearful countenance that dismissing them and shutting the door on them was the worst you did. You hear their poor feet skitter away. And then, you turn with a deep, contented breath to view the sight stretched in your bed.
Yours. And his.
He’s waiting. Patiently. Spread wide and tethered to the four posts of your bed frame, and most of all, your mouth waters to see that hardened, twitching, eager cock proudly erect.
Just as you left him.
Only now, his eyes are drawn, half-lidded, his tongue licking his lips.
“They will get suspicious eventually, darling,” he croons, all the tones of confidence as you draw alongside the bed, dropping your thin, little dressing gown to reveal you pale figure again.
“Let them,” you purr right back. “They wouldn’t dare enter without my permission,” you cock your head flirtatiously, “or yours. But since you are… tied up with other matters…”
“Puns, darling,” he groans, face twisting in a sour show of distaste.
“…they will just have to take my word for it.” You laugh slowly, sitting yourself beside his hip, a single finger tracing through the ridges of his stomach. Ignoring his little taunt, savoring his submission as your willing plaything for now.
“Liar,” he croons rolling his body to press against your ass, where you are perched almost out of reach. “You said Lord Astarion isn’t here,” he’s growling. Provoking. Straining against his binds that are restraining both him and his ever-growing magic.
You give him that wide-eyed innocent look, scanning the room, a show of searching, a pantomime that only makes him sneer playfully and shake his head. “All I see is my lover, my Vampire Rogue, who is being rather stubborn about all this,” you sigh as you swiftly roll to brace yourself above him, perched on your hands and knees to hover over his taught form. Tantalizingly close.
He groans, trying to lift himself to touch any part of you. But you are clever, you’ve played enough games on the receiving end of such pleasurable punishments to know just what you wish to do.
“I am allowed to be stubborn when what you ask for is reckless… painful… dangerous…” he’s snarling below you, his chin jutting up to make his shining fangs all the more fearsome.
“It has been months since the end of our adventures,” you reply in calm and steady tones, “months of solidifying our power, of eliminating the traces of our enemies and assuring alliances, even with old friends…” you think of Wyll, new Duke Ravenguard, and the tenuous agreement to turn his literal blind eye on most of what Astarion does. Trusting you to be the one to keep him in check from anything horribly nefarious.
“You think my consort… my queen… should wander the streets of Baldur’s Gate alone? Unguarded? Like some….”
“Adventurer and hero?” you interject.
“I was going to say commoner…” he sniffs, disgruntled.. “You’re so much more than that now, my love. Let me free and I’ll show you just how special you are… how regal and unique…”
You skate your fingers down the hard lines of his stomach, barely ghosting their way towards his straining erection. “Mmmmm my love, you’re always so good at persuading with your body, I’d like to give it a try.”
“You can try, darling…” he swallows his grunt as you finally touch him, just the pads of your fingers tracing up the underside of his cock. “But you’ll find my tongue is better suited to other… pursuits… than merely trying to give you my word.”
“I’ll take my chances,” you simper, you pout, lowering your head to place a gentle kiss at the joint of his hip. “I think all you need is the correct incentive… the sweetest persuasion…”
“What you ask will certainly take a lot to persuade me, darling,” he groans. “If you think I’m about to allow you to go without an escort around the streets of Baldur’s… hngf…”
You suck him hard, taking in as much of his straining, painful erection as you can until it jabs at the back of your throat and makes you gag. But that’s it. You release him with a deafening, sloppy pop. Meeting his eyes, they are glassy, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. Or pleasure.
“Hells,” he whines, bucking his hips erratically off the bed, even with his legs tethered and spread as they are.
“You want to rethink that assertion, my love?” you preen, crouched beside him, nested in the bedcovers.
“Never,” he growls, a playful smile on his full and pouting lips. “But I’ll join in your game all you want, darling. You’re burning for my cock as much as I am for you and all your deliciousness.”
“Is that so?” You simper, slowly lowering your mouth back down to hover above his aching erection. The closer you get, the more he betrays his anticipation as it twitches. You barely run the tip of your tongue around that ridge of its head. “Just a simple acquiescence to the little thing I ask of you… just to walk beyond our palace…”
“Not without me,” Astarion’s eyes flash, his fangs glinting in the morning light that seeps through the window. “Never alone, my pet…”
You take him in mouth lips again, loose and sloppy, just a bit of wet and warmth to tease him before you dodge away, avoiding the thrust he attempts to make for some relief. “Ah, ah,” you scold with a simpering pout, “we ask first before we start fucking faces, my love.”
“May… I…” he clenches his beautiful white teeth, forcing his words through them, “fuck… you?”
“No, but thank you for asking,” you taunt, running your tongue up that grooved underside, letting it linger along the intricate map of veins that weave around that hard, throbbing length. “Once you agree, then I’ll be more than happy to let you in… somewhere…”
He lets out a ferocious growl, a smile still playing around his lips, eyes craning above his head to inspect your bindings. Even as they tingle with a little magic, a little extra assurance against all his mighty vampiric powers now. “I swear, if I could shift into my newest form…”
“Your cute little bat?” you grin, laughing loudly as you take him deep enough into your throat to feel the vibrations of your throat. Then, you release another strong suck with a pop. “What would you do, make a nest in my hair?”
He laughed at that, low, dark, and rolling. “Tempting,” he hissed back, “nothing short of what you would deserve, darling.”
“To wander without needing to wait for you to be free from your rule… your duties?” you return your attention to that glistening cock with a hungry grin, “I’ll take my chances again.”
He squirms as you barely graze it with your lips again, just little nipples of that smooth, stretched skin up and down its shaft. “Please, darling, please,” his voice grows desperate, edged with need, “give me just a little of your body.”
“And in exchange?” you croon, gracing him with one last lingering suck and swirl around that blunted tip.
“I will take you where you wish to go,” he groans at the continued release, your little reward of rhythmic bobbing over his length as you take him satisfyingly deeper. “To hells with duties, if that is your wish.” Tone softening, he bucks into your mouth, his timing as always impeccable, jamming that slick hardness down your throat as you lower. You sputter and gag, your throat closing around him before you can lift away.
“Naughty,” you chide him gently, frowning with a hint of a smile as you creep to dangle your body over him, all hands and knees and swinging breasts. Breasts he’s licking his lips for as you draw nearer.
“Just a taste, darling,” he flashes those wide, pleading eyes up at you, “I swear I only need a little…”
“Mmmm, I’ve heard such beautiful lies before,” you raise yourself onto your knees, straddling those clenching muscles of his belly. A single one of your finger slips inside your own folds, and you let him hear just how wet you are. It squelches, sloppy and thick as you tease yourself. You ride over his belly, locking your half-closed eyes with his, wide and burning and dilated as they are. “Good rogues get the spoils,” you pant, letting yourself thrust those fingers into your dripping folds harder, faster. You spasm, riding your own hand, feeling his belly rise and fall against your thighs and cunt as you pleasure yourself.
You can hear the bed groaning, the wooden frame creaking loudly as he pulls at every binding. It makes you lick your lips, eyes fluttered shut to savor the way he’s writhing between your thighs, shaking as he comes undone to watch you panting. Always watching as you begin to come, trembling and moaning as you shatter, your arousal pooling over his belly. As you try to catch your breath, you let him look into your gaze, that feral, barely-bridled glow of red in his eyes. You feel his cock throbbing against your ass, twitching as you make the slightest of contact with where his is in deepest agony.
It makes you smile wickedly, leaning forward to proffer your slick and dripping fingers for his lips. You need not say a word, not when he opens, straining against his tethers to suck you clean. Every lap and lick of his tongue, he feasts on your cum, little noises of feeding in his throat, the same he has always made, lips bruising your neck in the wee hours of night.
You tug them roughly from his mouth. “Enough of that from you,” you chide, smiling. Taunting. “I give you a little, and you still have yet to give me my due, my love.”
He grins, licking the corner of his lip. “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you, my darling… my treasure…? Have you stopped and thought, perhaps, why I won’t let you wander aimlessly into the open, outside of my protection?”
“Because you just can’t bear to be without me…” you tease him, a wicked smile on your face as you place a quick kiss on his insolent lips. He fights for you not to break away, his teeth biting into the swell of your lower lip. “Selfish lover that you are…” you mumble as he tries to devour you all the more.
“Naturally, my little love,” he pants as you raise up, a hand firmly pushed on the base of his throat. “Has it not always been so, darling? Your ferocious rogue always at your side? But now, my sweet consort, have you ever wondered why I can’t resist being just oh.. so… possessive of you?”
You pause, tilting your head, considering. You wait for an answer, but those full, smirking lips of his just press silently together.
“Oh, you wish for me to draw out your answer,” you needle him, an edge of irritation in your voice now.
“Isn’t that the point of your charming, little game?” he presses, tugging at his bonds to make them snap with tension.
“Then let’s play,” you smirk, neck taut as you cock your chin, posturing with all the dominance you can muster.
“Anything to get some wet part of you on my cock, my love…” he arches his body as you slide off his belly. “If you please,” he adds, extra silken temptation in his tone.
“You haven’t been good, but I suppose you require more persuasion,” you hum, “and perhaps you could use a more convincing sight. Until you tell me exactly why you insist on being my constant escort, at least.”
“You’re clever,” he hisses as you begin to turn your back to him, hand gripping that throbbing shaft, his pulse pounding beneath that smooth skin. “If you can defeat the Absolute, the Netherbrain, it should be easy for you to puzzle out why your vampiric lover can’t let his consort out of his sight for a moment…” He groans as you straddle those narrow hips of his, one hand sweeping his cock through your drenched folds. “No matter how powerful… or insolent she may be…” he adds, a deep-throated growl on every word, a snap as he taunts you.
You let him dip slowly inside you, barely taking more than the ridge of his tip between your thighs. Hands gripped on his knees, you feel his legs shaking, trembling to finally find some relief as you fuck him leisurely. A gentle sway, an agonizingly slow riding. And never enough to let him sheath inside you fully.
A mischievous smirk on your lips, you glance over your shoulder. His teeth are grit, his eyes darkened with lust and wide as he cranes to watch your ass, the gradual, rhythmic rise and fall as you pleasure him with total control. “Powerful, am I?” you gloat, taking him just a little deeper.
It makes him hiss, his eyes shutting as sweat begins to dampen his forehead.
“More than you realize,” he gasps, voice grating as he forces his eyes open to drink in the sight of you. “More than I have ever admitted to anyone… to you.”
“Tch,” you suck your teeth in that way he always has, “how sweet, my love. Is that why you keep me here, keep me at your side always? For my power?”
“Don’t forget your beauty that would launch nations into battles for you, my treasure…”
That makes you smile, makes your stomach flutter in expectation, and for your own sake, you take him in, all the way, until you feel the slap of his thighs between your legs.
He roars, pulling on his binds on this hands and feet to make the wood of your bed groan almost as loudly. “Please,” he spits, “do that again, darling.”
“Tell me more reasons, and I just might,” you toss over your shoulder at him, making him feel only the tip of his cock piercing you again.
“Why don’t you think, clever girl?” he hisses, trying to buck into your cunt, to reclaim that little hint of wet and pressure you gave him.
“Because I am your equal?” you grind with every thrust, letting your walls clench as you take him just a bit deeper.
“Yes…” he pants.
“Because you just can’t bear to be so far you can’t smell just how aroused you make me…” you giggle, splaying a hand behind you, over his navel, pressing against those hardened muscles of his belly as you sink all the way down.
“Gods, yes…” he’s groaning, licking his lips as you let him fill you at last.
“Because you’ve given me your power, extended your blessings…” you cant your hips slowly, still drawing him along, but he can only sigh, at last feeling the tightness, the wetness he’s sought for so long now.
“Not just my blessings and power, darling,” he cranes his head back into the bed with a sated sigh as you ride him. Even slowly.
But you pause. Clambering over his hips you spin around to face him, cock still sunk inside you, a hand gripped around the lines of his jaw, his chin, to make him look at you. “What do you mean?” you bite.
“Don’t you recall, clever girl?” He’s laughing under your hold. “That night, your final night… what more did I give you?”
Your mind races, your hips grinding, that need now built inside you too, finally feeling filled to bursting, his cock twitching as it drags right over that perfect, secret spot between your walls.
“Free me, if you please, so I may remind you…” he’s crooning, purring as you fuck him. “Please,” he adds, a little extra seductively, his face twisting in that way that makes your stomach knot as it always has. You spread your hands beside his head, eyes narrowed to see him gloating so smugly under you. His little order sends ripples of anticipation down your spine to pool even hotter where your bodies join.
Your hand shakes, your body now riding him of its own accord, even as you reach for the binding around one wrist to slip it off his pale skin. Instantly, his hand grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth as he sinks his fangs into your flesh. You groan, the wave of painful pleasure tearing through you hard enough to make you come. All you feel is his lips drinking you in, his cock throbbing as you spasm and ride him still through the clenches of your orgasm. You’re so full, so taken, so overwhelmed.
And he’s laughing, swirling his tongue over your dripping blood.
“Blood,” you breathe through your climax.
“Not yours,” he growls before biting into his own wrist in the same way. Then, he proffers that flow of his blood for your own lips to taste. “I gave you mine… I made you mine.”
You suck your fill, the tingle of his power, the rush of all that he is, all that he has always been, filling your belly.
“You are not some spawn, darling,” he smirks, that secret dancing over the full pout of his lips. “Your vampire lord gave you his own blood.” His words reach your ear through the euphoria of drinking him in. Suddenly, his hand pulls from your hungry mouth, fingers clawing around your throat. He presses, just enough to make your eyes wide as you swallow under his strength, his hold pulling you down so close to his handsome face. “Even a drop given to you, to turn you, it makes you mine… my consort, my bride, my vampire lover forever, beyond the touch of time itself.”
“Not spawn?” you rasp through his hold on you, a pleased, pleasured smile flickering around your lips as he stares with such longing and adoration up at you.
“No,” he purrs, “but it means I will never let you out of my sight, my power, my protection, so long as we walk this earth. I would rather burn the world to keep you with me forever than risk losing my bride for an instant….” You tremble, you gasp at the ferocity in his gaze as he pulls you down by your throat until your lips crash into his. He feasts on your mouth, groaning at the taste of how your bloods mix and mingle into an intoxicating flavor. Rich. Powerful. United.
Inseparable.
“What a good, good master,” you simper into his kiss. “You shall be rewarded…” You touch the binds again, they all go limp as he shakes them off. He growls his pleasure. He touches you everywhere, fingers sliding from your neck to claw into the hairs at the nape of your neck, nails grabbing for your hips. Legs now liberated, the muscles of his thighs bunch as he starts to fuck hard into you from beneath, feet planted firmly on the bed at last.
“Thank you, my dearest love,” he grins widely, wickedly at you. “I hope I need not persuade you to trust me. Never again forget what it means to be mine…”
“Your bride,” you simper, tasting the title on your tongue, face quirking in a slight and knowing smile. “And that makes you my hus-”
“Your master,” he lifts his head, the weight of his hand at your nape pressing your mouth back down, barely brushing his taunting smirk. “Your lover… your mate or spouse or what have you behind closed doors only.” Then he bites into your neck, fangs piercing like the razors they are. A loud moan slips from your lips as you shiver and shudder in orgasm again from the pain and pleasure. His voice cuts through just as sharply, “And you may only call me husband… three times… for all eternity…” His tongue laps the blood that spills from your veins and down your shoulder now. “Choose wisely, my dearest darling.”
You fight the pull of your pleasure, the need to go limp and just let him fuck you. Not after your hard won victory. So you pull from his mouth, pushing that controlling hand at your neck back down to the bed. “Of course, darling,” you give a naughty smirk, a defiant rake of your brows and flutter of your lips as you press to whisper against his neck instead. “Whatever you say, husband,” you hiss with pure, delightful insolence before you bite him back. Now it’s your mouth that makes him squirm, your control that makes his shudder and hitch as he chases his climax, seeking with reckless abandon the thing that you have kept just tantalizingly out of reach.
“You fuck me like this, my love, and you just might persuade me to get used to it…” he rasps, hands grasped at your hips to keep you steady so he can pummel you mercilessly.
“Ah ah,” you tut your tongue to chide him. “Remember, good masters ask before they come inside their brides,” you gloat, feeling that truth, that connection of your blood and your undead hearts beating all the stronger for it.
“Please,” he begs harshly through gritted teeth, his fucking undeterred as he waits for your word.
He slams up into you with all the more force, his face already screwing and twisting with how close he is.
“Yes, my love,” you acquiesce with a dramatic lilt. It doesn’t take long, not after he watches you smile and feels you clench your walls around him with all your strength. He roars, writhing and spasming as he empties inside you. Buried so deep you feel the tip of his cock twitching against the end of your channel.
You gasp, your sweat dripping down your temple as you watch him begin to still and relax beneath you. But you stay, cock deep and warm inside you, his thighs beneath you soaked with your mingled juices.
“So,” you pant, letting your own body respond with its own basking in the glow of your pleasure, as you slowly lower your body to blanket him. His hand strays absentmindedly through your hair, fingertips softly brushing your cheek with each pass. “You must have lots of ruling to attend to now that you’ve persuaded me,” you murmur, nestled against the hard bone of his jaw, tracing your finger through the pooling of his blood from your bite. You bring that finger to your mouth to suck it clean. “I’ll wait for you before I wish to venture out for the day.”
“Oh,” he grips into your hair, raising your head to look at him again, and your smile widens to see the intensity, the possessive glint in his crimson eyes. “I think all that can wait. Right now, you can choose, venture out and then fuck again until you’re begging me for more? Or fuck first and then venture out into the day, my love?”
You giggle, a grind of your hips to drag over his still hardened cock inside you. “Hmm, a tough choice,” you grin, scoring your own fingers through his hair, “perhaps you need to persuade me this time…”
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its-time-to-write · 6 months
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how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3
I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂
I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!
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smile at me
It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?
Or something. 
Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 
“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”
“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 
Apparently, that didn’t matter. 
But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 
It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 
Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 
“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”
Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 
The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 
“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”
Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”
You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 
You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”
He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”
“He broke up with me.”
Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”
You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 
“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 
You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”
Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 
“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”
A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 
As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.
You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”
The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”
Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 
“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 
“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 
Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 
“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 
Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”
You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 
“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”
“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.
“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”
“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”
Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”
You laugh and follow him to the elevator.
It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 
Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.
“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”
It’s not a problem. 
Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 
But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.
He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 
Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 
“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”
You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 
“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 
You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 
“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 
“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.
You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 
“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”
You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.
“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”
You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.
The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.
Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 
So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 
And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 
So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 
You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.
Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 
You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 
“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”
You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 
You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 
You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 
“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 
You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 
Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 
Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.
“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”
You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”
Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”
You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”
“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”
“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”
Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 
Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 
“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.
It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 
It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.
The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”
“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”
Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”
Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”
“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”
“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 
“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”
“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”
“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”
You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”
Jamie shoots up. “What?!”
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”
Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”
You grin as you climb onto his lap. 
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