#I CAN TELL IT'S GONNA BE ONE FOR THE BOOKS FOLKS

[alexclaain]

I dont really know how to explain this, but every religion gives me an ick if it's starting to lean into the more radical sides and excludes or oppresses people. And it's weird to me how there are people who will claim you're (religion)phobic, if you call out the bigotry.

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters

Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.

It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.

Behold! Many shades of brown!

I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.

Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:

"Chocolate and Coffee"

Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)

My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)

Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.

And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!

Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:

I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!

You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.

"Brunette with brown eyes"

(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)

"Red hair with pale skin"

“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”

“blond hair" (period!)

Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!

I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!

(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))

My Next Challenge:

Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:

Say BLACK!

Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!

You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:

“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”

I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)

Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!

“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”

That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:

No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)

Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!

Conclusion

This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)

A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!

Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!

It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!

[notherpuppet]

What are the questions you hate??

Okay so I don’t really HATE anything (so far) but how bout an FAQ? There are some asks I’m kind of tired of answering lol. Such as;

• “FEED ME” For one thing, it’s not even an ask 💀 So I don’t love this energy, it’s -2 charm for me. Whilst I’m grateful that folks really like the art I share (like SUPER GRATEFUL!!) I am not particularly enchanted by a demanding aura

• “when is ____ coming out”? The answer is always “I don’t know” because I draw for FUN and I draw in my FREE TIME and that varies. So for the foreseeable future, unless I EXPLICITLY state otherwise, you can expect my next post to appear on your screen whenever I post it 🥰😘

• “what programs do you use”? I don’t have a problem AT ALL with inquiring minds, I just get this ask a lot and I’ve already answered it a few times (for the inquisitive minds, please consider checking the tag ‘answers’ on this blog to find information. I’ll tag this ‘faq’) Anyway, I use pens, paper, my iPad, Apple Pencil, and Procreate. I often use brush packs made by Shiyoon Kim and Kyle Webster. I find brush packs on the creative market as well. wanna learn Clip Studio Paint, but haven’t gotten to it.

• “advice on improving in drawing”? This is a beautiful question, and I’m happy there are people who want to improve their drawing skills! I am one of you. I frequently use “YouTube university” where I will find drawing focused channels that teach you this very thing. Andrew Loomis books on drawing are like textbooks that break down the fundamentals really effectively. Like any skill, you have to research, study, and practice. The more you do of each, the better you will get. I’m trying my best to improve and master the craft eventually. (A fool’s errand haha) anyway, have fun!

• “can I fandub this”? The answer is yes!! And I hope you have a lot of fun!!! Please credit me and no monetizing. 🥰

• “can I make fanfiction/fanart/cosplay based on your fanart?” FUCK YEAHHHHHH!!! I LOVE people being creative. We’re all having fun in this fandom and I think it makes life more exciting when we create! Same with fandubs, please credit and no monetizing 🥰

• “do you do commissions”? I am not accepting any right now, but that can change! Please trust that if/when I do start taking commissions, I will be letting y’all know!! And I really appreciate that you’d want to commission me 🥹♥️

• “in your comic, will ____ happen?” I’m not just gonna TELL you that lol. But clarifying what’s ALREADY happened is always a welcomed ask :)

I just want to thank everyone who tunes into this blog!! I really have a great time creating fanart, fanfiction, and comics and I’m VERY SHOCKED that what I’ve made has had the reception it has. It’s fun to be in this fandom with you all!

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SENDS ME SWEET ENCOURAGING MESSAGES ILYYY 🥹💖💘💞💓💝

[autisticmushroom]

The Book of Bill Provides Evidence to Prove that Bill and Ford are Toxic Exes: An Essay

Before we get into anything, let me add. 1. This is an actual essay. 2. I hated billford at first, but I have become similar to the very thing I have sworn to destroy because of the Book of Bill. It contains a lot of billford subtext- and hell, if I can see it and *I don't* ship them, then it's gotta be there. 3. This will have both evidence for and counterpoints against each side, mirroring my thought process. 4. I will not be including evidence from Elsewhere (any interviews, Gravity Falls merch, Journal 3, the show itself). 5. If you know of anything that's not on here, feel free to reblog this post with added photos! You can also add evidence from Elsewhere if you feel like it lol. Oh, and spoilers under the cut for Gravity Falls and The Book of Bill. obviously.

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get to The List! Strap yourselves in, folks, this is a long one. Evidence FOR Bill Cipher x Ford (with Counterpoints)

Image 1: Evidence for the ship: Yk the quote "My ex-wife still misses me… BUT HER AIM IS GETTING BETTER?!" So this implies that Bill is Ford's ex. Counterpoint: The Pines bros could've used that phrase before the ex-wife part was added.

Image 2: Evidence: The whole thing. Mabel refers to bill as a "super needy ex" who needs to "[get] over Grunkle Ford". She tells him to get "breakup bangs" and "go crush on someone else's uncle." Counterpoint: She loves matchmaking, and she has a whole page in the Gravity Falls coloring book about "Future Matchmaking Projects", the vast majority of them (read: all but Dipper x Pacifica, really) having no basis in the show. She's a 13 year old girl who could just be making a joke out of it because it's fun.

Images 3 & 4 Evidence: To have people fall in love with you, "leave real dead mice" (Bill's love advice) *Bill proceeds to leave dead rats spelling Ford's name.* As a birthday present, on Ford's birthday, that he surprisingly remembered. Counterpoint: Bill said to leave dead mice but left dead rats for Ford. Two different animals. Also, he could just be doing this to creep Ford out.

Image 5 Evidence: "And then one thing led to another." This leaves a lot to be implied... including gay shenanigans. Counterpoint: It could mean anything.

Image 6 (Ha! Sixer!) Evidence: "I know sixer loved our will they wont they destroy the world relationship". "One sixer please" "I ordered an 'I'm Fine Juice' " Like bro is obviously going through The Breakup. From what little I know about Homestuck, this also seems like a kismesis [romantic relationship built on hate, simply put?] relationship (Homestuck fans don't sue me!!) Counterpoint: This could just be him mad that Ford's not a willing pawn anymore.

Image 7 Evidence: Bill wanting Stanford to make him look pretty. Counterpoint: This could just be Bill being vain.

Image 8 Evidence: Bill actually trapped Stanford in a massive stone pyramid during Weirdmageddon and restrained him. And he was actually going to sing a song that got cut- "It's Gonna Get Weird." Counterpoint: We don't know if the Fearamid was made out of stone; and it's possible Bill didn't aim to seduce Ford in the Fearamid; just intimidate him.

Additionally: Evidence: Bill having the idea that love basically is the same thing as fear makes sense because he used fear to control Ford a lot. Counterpoint: Bill being mean could be just... that. simply put.

Image 9 Evidence: Dictionary.com defines "holic" basically as someone with an addiction/obsession. He was obsessed with Bill. Counterpoint: This could've been just platonic, or as admiration.

Image 10 Evidence: "This is what a partner looks like". Bill, referring to Ford. Counterpoint: Again, unclear as to whether he is being romantic or platonic.

Images 11 & 12 Evidence: This could absolutely be read as flirty. "Guys as smart as you come along once every other century." "I see you on the cover of the right magazine someday." "You can call me anything except late for dinner. (Bill)" "You can call me anything except late for dinner. (Ford, echoing Bill). "I think I'm starting to like you, Sixer." "I think I'm starting to like you, Bill." Counterpoint: Bill could just be saying this to impress Ford to get him to help. Unclear as to platonic or romantic.

Images 13 & 14 Evidence: Bill suggests telling the date a sob story, and then trap them in the love cage. Then he tells Ford this sad story about his dimension; and later traps him in what could be a love cage (see: Image 8) Counterpoint: The sob story should be about how "*you're* tragic and misunderstood, no one can possibly relate to you." This isn't about Bill being tragic as a whole, this is about one terrible event. --- So far, we have mainly evidence for Bill Cipher and Ford being a couple, with some rebuttals. Now, it's time for evidence against them being a couple, with some rebuttals. Evidence AGAINST Bill Cipher x Ford (with Counterpoints)

Image 1: Evidence: This could imply Ford is aroace. Or at the very least, Bill, being Chaotic Evil (D&D alignment) isn't Ford's type. Counterpoint: You can fall for someone that's not your type. And that's what he *usually* writes- what does he write the other times? And what you do in a dream doesn't always reflect what you do in real life.

Image 2: Evidence: Bill doesn't pass the Harkness Test. (For those unaware, it's a test to see if you can have sex with a creature without it being immoral (bestiality/p*dophilia). He has at least human intelligence and can communicate with language (considering he wrote a book), but he is not of sexual maturity, as he's a preteen. Counterpoint: Preteen =/= not sexually mature applies to humans, but we have no idea if that would be correct for a triangle. It only makes sense to assume he is sexually mature. Dogs only live 10-13 years (source: American Kennel Club), and so they have babies when they're preteens or younger.

Image 3: Evidence: Bill states he has no exes. Counterpoint: We both know he's lying. Look at the list of crossed out names- most likely exes.

Image 4: Evidence: Bill says he couldn't care less about love. Counterpoint: For the second and third questions, he's dodging the answer. That's not a direct no, it's just him attacking the reader. And for the first, he could be lying.

Image 5: Evidence: Bill wrote this book, and we know Bill isn't to be trusted. How can we be sure any of what Bill says is true? How can we be sure that what Bill says is "Missing Journal Pages written by Ford" is 100% accurate, and not just- made up or altered by Bill? Bill literally says "Truth is open-source code and anyone can edit it" Counterpoint: Why would Alex Hirsch do that to the fan base though? --- Conclusion The amount of Bill x Ford evidence outweighs the evidence against it. Despite the fact that much of the evidence *for* Bill x Ford is ambiguous and can be read as romantic or platonic, or just Bill intimidating Ford, it only makes sense to conclude that it is romantic because of the sheer amount of it. This has turned me; previously somewhat of a Bill x Ford hater, to believing that Bill x Ford was an important part of Ford's story.

However, if you've read all of this and still hate the idea of Bill x Ford, that's perfectly valid! You can choose to read the evidence as purely platonic & later, Bill intimidating Ford, or Bill just twisting the truth- either aligns with canon. --- Disclaimer:

I am not saying you have to believe in Bill x Ford. I am not saying they had a good relationship either, or idealizing it. It was definitely toxic and manipulative and abusive. Ford is likely still healing from that abuse. I believe Ford and Bill both pass the Harkness Test. I am not shipping Bill with anyone besides Ford. Yes, I know this is basic, but I don't want ppl yelling at me for small things. Better yet; if you disagree with anything in the disclaimer- tell me *why* in the comments, civilly. --- Final Thoughts

If you've made it here, thank you so much for reading! This is my first essay of this length posted on Tumblr! I stayed up till like 1am to write this.

And I encourage you to repost/comment instead of just liking it, if you choose to engage. This helps better spread the post around. Thank you!

:)

[anexperimentallife]

So you want leftist candidates? Here's how you get them:

First off, you have to understand that the far right didn't just wake up one day and say, "We should fuck up the country!" They have been OPENLY working for decades to fill literally every elected or appointed government position they could with Christian Dominionists and other right-wingers, and these folks show up to the polls EVERY SINGLE TIME.

When I was a kid in a far right church in the 1960s, they openly discussed how important is was to get their people into office who would help pass legislation to persecute/imprison/kill anyone who didn't follow their religion. If there's no one sufficiently right-wing running, they'll vote for whomever is closest, even if it gags them. And I cannot emphasize enough that they have long term goals that they are willing to take--and HAVE taken--generations to achieve.

The overturning of Roe v. Wade, for example, is a DIRECT RESULT of the decades-long effort by the far right to boost the most far-right-leaning candidates they could find. They've been talking for decades SPECIFICALLY about getting enough far right judges in SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade. And these SCOTUS appointments are for LIFE, so these judges get to set policy for your GRANDCHILDREN.

So yes, the overturning of Roe v. Wade was only made possible because Trump was able to appoint three SCOTUS judges, in addition to all the other federal judges he appointed. Amd they're talking about going after same-sex marriage, minority rights, etc.

(Hell, the judge in charge of his secret documents case is one that he appointed--she has indefinitely postponed that case,by the way.)

And you don't think local school board elections are important? Have you not seen the news about all the anti-queer policies, and all the book-bannings? This, also, has a generational effect.

Meanwhile the left refuses to turn up to the polls because none of the candidates are pure enough. So guess why things are getting worse?

If the Left turned out for the most left-leaning candidate at EVERY SINGLE ELECTION, whether local or state or whatever, including primaries, we'd start seeing more leftist candidates. Yes, that means that if there's a choice between two extreme right wing candidates, you vote for the least extreme one.

I know I keep emphasizing that this is not just about POTUS, but POTUS does figure in, of course (among other things, who do you think appoints judges for congress to approve?).

So swallow this pill: Anything shitty Biden is doing, the shitgibbon will do MORE of.

"Not gonna vote Biden because he supports genocide, so I'd rather the guy win who ALSO supports genocide, wants Russia to invade more countries, thinks it's fine if China retakes Taiwan, wants a nationwide abortion ban, removal of civil rights for minorities, wants to overturn same-sex marriage (which the right-leaning majority in SCOTUS are already talking about), to cut back the role of congress in checking executive actions (including workarounds to avoid the need for congressional confirmation for presidential appointees), to remove federal employee protections so federal personnel can be replaced with Trump loyalists, and so on! That'll teach those Dems a lesson! THEN they'll be sorry. And fuck everyone the bad guys hurt, because I'll still be PURE. So what if top GOP officials want to actually NUKE Gaza?"

That's fucking kindergartner thinking.

Yes, Biden is a piece of shit, but I am not waxing at all hyperbolic when I say that a second orange shitgibbon term, with a far-right-majority SCOTUS--especially if the GOP manages majorities in both houses of congress--may be the end of what little is left of Democracy in the US. Not gonna argue about it, because I don't waste my time with petulant children.

Look at the GOP's plans for a Republican administration, and tell me you think it sounds better than another term of Biden. Hell, they've even set up online trainings and loyalty tests to narrow down potential federal hires to those who will commit to follow Trump without question.

I repeat: If you want more leftist candidates, if you want more worker power, if you want billionaires taxed, if you want to protect minorities and the queer community, you have to adopt the strategy that the right has used, educate yourself about what candidates stand for, and show up EVERY SINGLE TIME. Again, that includes primaries.

So many of us on the left would rather sit in the basement dreaming of some magical revolution that's going to fix everything, giving ourselves and others purity tests, and proudly announcing that we're... boycotting democracy by not voting(?), "because none of the candidates are a good choice."

Yeah, the left refusing to vote--or only voting in presidential elections--while the right turns up every time is exactly how we got here.

And you have to support the most left-leaning candidate even if it makes you gag, and even if "most left-leaning" means "not as openly fascist." This is the ONLY way you can be assured of candidates getting further to the left in the future. (Note that this means learning about your local candidates.)

"But voting won't fix--" I never said it was going to fix everything. There's no rule that if you vote, you can't volunteer with Food Not Bombs, or run for school board, or demonstrate, or circulate petitions. It takes more than voting, but voting has to be PART of our strategy.

You also have to accept that it may take decades to change course, and that you're not going to like every candidate you have to vote for.

The right didn't just magically get the orange shitgibbon into office overnight. It took decades of work. And if we want decent human beings in charge, we have to be willing to do the same.

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?

Leads to smut (0u0")

Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!

This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹

A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.

Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 2

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

--

Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.

Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.

His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.

She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.

". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.

He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.

Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.

She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.

She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.

He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.

". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.

Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"

Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.

After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.

"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.

Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.

~Three Days Later~

He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.

His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.

But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.

But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.

Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.

~Y/n pov~

I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.

He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.

He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .

He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.

But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.

He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?

I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.

"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.

I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.

I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.

I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.

Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.

"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.

"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.

He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.

~~~

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.

He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.

"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.

My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.

But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.

His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.

After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.

"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.

He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.

My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.

My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.

It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.

His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."

Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.

_____________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!

[azure-cherie]

PAC : Who of the nine Greek muses do you embody ? A message from the muse

➪Pile : 1-2-3 ☟︎︎︎ 4-5-6 ☟︎︎︎ 7-8-9

Hii loves how have you been , I'm back again with a reading, I hope you enjoy this please choose with your intuition and take what resonates , Reblogs, comments feedbacks everything is highly appreciated ❤️

If you liked this and would like to book or would want a bigger reading on the same topic :

Masterlist , paid readings , paid readings 2

Pile 1 :

Muse of music and lyric poetry

Channelled messages: " let go of societal restraints " , " paint the canvas of your life , write a poem about a wall " , " often see yourself as an ancient women of honour " , " feed the doves "

She comes forth to tell you about your potential how you're a very meditative being , you are so good at chanelling and you should do it more often , ask her to be your guide and write down all that comes through to you flow in your thinking and the ideas that come forth

Lean more into the devotional aspect of your life , see everything with the vibration of love. The trees the humans the animals , devote more into self love and worship the gods you already do .

Learn the right way to connect to the moon , you're in your journey and this is one of the crucial times , you're almost at the end of a karmic cycle stay stiff and strong

Don't get into arguments , if you do have mishaps with someone , lean into releasing the anger through creating music or producing tunes .

Take practical approaches to life , if someone says no to you do the thing on your own , your guides are always taking care of you .

Pile 2 :

Muse of dance and choral poetry .

Channelled messages : " learn about the folk music and dances where you stay " , " when in the blues play the beats " , " give more to the society in forms of art " , " start the YouTube channel"

Your devotion towards your deity or your guides is really admirable and that is something that's one of your best qualities people online or in person admire your liking towards a deity you inspire them .

The calmness of mind that can be attained through yoga is something she wants you to do , imagine a blue beam of light when you meditate , she tells you to connect to your primordial life form your soul .

Know about the necessary sacrifices one has to do in their life , your sacrifices now will bring you rewards later , don't fall for instant gratification

Abundance is soon to come in your life but work on cultivating a sense of detachment towards money , obsession ruins everything.

There might me a rock bottom moment in your life soon , she asks you to remain in your path as a human and as a soul take the lessons and move on soon you will alchemize your pain into passion and glory . You transform everything you're a becon of light .

Pile 3 :

Muse of hymns and sacred poetry

Channelled messages : " Levitate " , " dream big " , " nice downtown tshirt " , " the life that one has is a sum and minus of that they do "

If you're interested in writing do it , there might be an opportunity approaching you soon in this sector , though there's a warning about a setback if you don't take the opportunity at the right time don't worry you'll do great believe in the power of wishes.

You might rekindle a childhood bond on the basis of liking of movies or songs .

Business sector might have new opportunities your fortune is about to change you're gonna have the power to do what you want in your life because you're the creator of it , your destiny is now on hold make the best use of free will.

Connect more to the oceans and moon , fireflies etc , be in nature more and stay grounded .

Honour your soul by serving the temple you're in your own body , take care of your body give it ample rest and food .

Pile 4 :

Muse of tragedy

Channelled messages : " Dwelling on past has no rewards " , " crazy is as good as the sane" , " time flowes and glows and you grow "

Don't choose a hard life away from your desires because you're scared of disappointing people your path is enlightened more as you connect more to yourself .

Give into dark feminine energy and live in your truth , if you remain often confused or scared work on your root chakra .

Connect more to your guides through paintings and leave offerings of metal , feathers , corn etc

It's time to finally shine you're going from the hermit to an influencer you're gonna be famous it might start small but it will build up .

Keep away from external influences that stop your growth drop bad friends and family .

Pile 5 :

Muse of love poetry

Channelled messages: eat healthy and enriching foods , read about the love you already behold , the depths of see are beautiful and so is your heart of depth.

Abundance in the sector of love is coming soon you're gonna make the haters jealous , might even win a pagent or competition.

You might have felt Beauty is your curse but life's gonna show you how it's not you're gonna be so hight so uplifted I see you shining like a star

One has to prepare for glory start by saying affirmations and working on your third eye and root chakra .

Read more about lovers from mythology like Persephone Hades , Aphrodite ares , Radha Krishna etc

The boons served by the goddess are yours to keep and no one can question that , you're being divinely blessed and you'll be happy and dancing soon .

Pile 6 :

Muse of comedy and Idyllic poetry

Chanelled messages: Search for the small joys, poppies , these boots are meant for walking , spring equinox fairy

There's a confirmation in case you wanna go for the acting sector , this sector will require a lot of hardwork .

There's also a warning regarding someone in your job your boss or your guru they might take credit for some assignment you did beware and if possible say no because that thing might get your superior a promotion

You are to search bliss in satisfaction about what you already have the moon is to be admired by you the power to be soked it , are you ready for the full moon .

You're intelligent and people really admire you for that , gemini energy.

Move in your life in your true path of light don't be afraid or dim your light , your aura might have hints of white colour .

Pile 7:

Muse of epic poetry

Chanelled messages: Blow the bubbles up , get into kitchen witchery, Artemis , cry me a river

Don't give people the benefit of the doubt if you don't like someone let them go .

Fame is eminent in your energy, life coaches might help you , your aunt is giving you good guidence follow her .

Do your school projects and specially eat tangerine and other fruits that make you feel happy

Serve the world and create peace each small step is a long one in the collective , small things create big impact do your part and be sure of the effects .

Moon water energy and full moon is great for you to invite luxuries in your life , ground your root chakra and connect to your third eye your ancestors will be sending you messages.

Pile 8 :

Muse of astronomy

Chanelled messages: Fly me to the moon , peals and sandbox , honesty is the best policy , go go cheerleader

The first message for you is to balance all your chakras it's crazy my oracle deck pulled all chakra cards omg I feel like there soon will be a kundalini awakening for you

You're almost in your last stage of awakening get into the cosmic dance of life your life is about to change , abundance is coming

Hard message to get through but someone in your relationship might be cheating or there might be someone who has an eye on your partner and might try to frame them . Only for some people

Listen to your higher self write a letter to them

Your path from now on is of the hermit it might be lonely but it's worth it discoveries are on your way in fields of history, psychology, quantum mechanics etc.

Pile 9 :

Muse of history

Chanelled messages: 13 missed calls , glow up is loading , search in the Egyptian archives , glow and peach coloured cheeks

The number six is significant, also specifically for someone there's this person who is delaying your glow up by doing some nasty as spell , might be a close friend

You are ignoring some signs from the universe , they're coming again and again and you're ignoring it look into it closely , you're elevating in your consciousness.

Your energy levels are high and you're matching ahead in your journey setbacks are never the end the sheer power of desire iss enough to keep going .

You're slowly climbing the stairs of life to become confident and assertive you might even call upon a partner soon who is very sure about themselves.

You should plant more trees and learn about them about their origination etc , i specifically get about Tulsi and the lore behind it . Some others would be eucalyptus, basil and marigold.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this

Have a great day/ night ♥️🌹

[voidpacifist]

I have a new brainworm about steve harrington that I need (NEED!!) to share

imagine this for me: it's 1983. nothing eventful happens, at least in the supernatural sense. steve and nancy still date, he still drops his terrible friends when he realizes they're not gonna support him if it doesn't fit their agenda, he still accidentally becomes close to a bunch of seventh graders when nance asks him if he can babysit--

(not that he'd ever say no to her, but it's not what he envisioned the summer of '84 to be like, okay?)

--and overall, things are relatively normal for him. his parents continue to be absent, but they still get excited for him when they learn he has a girlfriend or won a new award at the end of the school year for something sporty or what have you. they're not bad people, they just don't know how to be good parents. and they're always, always away.

but the thing about 1983, is that his final interaction with tommy before he "broke up" their friendship by dating someone kind and sweet and "perfect" like nancy, was him getting absolutely wailed on. enough that he went to the hospital with a severe concussion and some damage to his optic nerve. the doctors told him he already has something going on with his vision to begin with, probably a genetic disease passed down from one of his folks, that increase his chances of going blind earlier in life. meaning, if push came to shove, his vision could go entirely if he got into any more scruples with ex-friends or people who just generally disliked him.

and then lucas sinclair asks him for dating advice, because he likes max mayfield, the new girl in his class, and ultimately it lands steve being the chauffeur for their first date just days after halloween in 1984. by now, he and nancy have broken up — they weren't emotionally available in the ways they needed to be with one another, and steve knows his dream of the future is different from her own. this time, there's no speech about bullshit or faking it. they simply both know that their expiration is upon them and call it quits.

(it still hurts, but he told lucas to shoot his shot, because if there's anything he's learned by dating nancy wheeler, it's that projecting his heartbreak and hurt onto others is a gateway to toxicity in the water; and by god he is not sabotaging this kids emotional maturity, okay? okay)

so he takes the kids to bennys burgers, because lucas insists it's "cool enough" for this girl, and he doesn't want to overdo it by going somewhere too fancy. but when steve returns to pick them up, there's a hiccup in the plan.

billy, maxs step-brother and steve's most recent bother at school, is there, gearing up to try and scare lucas off, or do something worse. steve, anointed babysitter and generally protective friend, steps in without hesitation. the fight that results makes the local news. steve lands in the hospital again.

his vision doesn't go completely, but it goes enough. enough that he can't drive, enough that he'll have to find large print books or simply relearn to read altogether in braille. enough that he's advised to get a cane or a guide dog. enough that, when all is said and done, his old life has been completely upended.

jonathan--

(the same jonathan who has now swept nancy off her feet the way steve used to)

--surprisingly, is the one who ends up getting close to steve after this. he tells steve about what it was like when will was found after being missing for a week, about how he knows it isn't the same, but that he relates to the feeling of oh god, everythings different and nothing I used to have is coming back. he doesn't divulge on the details, but steve knows he's serious about understanding the feeling.

even more surprising is nancy, who commands him every day that god dammit steve, your life is not coming back unless you take it back yourself and then reassures him in the same breath that he's not weak for needing help doing so.

and then the kids join in too. and steve harrington isnt a king anymore of anything, but he's the king of his own life, he's the king of himself. he starts going back to school even when he feels embarrassed to be there, like he's an imposter or ill equipped. he starts going to public places just to meet poorly concealed whispers with something friendly and witty in return. he starts taking his power back in a way that never needs to hurt anyone, that never needs to hurt himself.

he also discovers he loves bright colors — neons and pinks and reds especially. he takes a trip with nancy and barb one day to indy on some sort of girls trip (they've long since made up since the first house party, and barb latches onto steve as a best friend shockingly fast in the wake of his and tommy's split), and it's there that he meets someone punk for the first time. he develops a fixation on the colored hair, the leather and spikes and denim with safety pins in it. he badgers the girls about teaching him how to wear eyeliner.

it's his gateway into punk style, which is then a further path into the subculture itself, into colored laces and battle vests and the politics and social aspects. steve takes to it like a fish to water.

the name steve harrington used to mean something entirely different. even though he calls his parents every day since the incident, even though they've been back to see him multiple times, even though they've tried to be present in their strange, semi-absent way, they still haven't seen him since his transformation from local jock to local punk.

needless to say, he spends a lot more time educating them about his "waywardness" and a lot less time actually excitedly telling them about the next color of his hair. but the harringtons aren't unaware — they can see how while this may be a creative way for steve to begin expressing and discovering himself, it's also an armor. no one really wants to fuck with someone who will trip you with his cane if you're being an asshole, someone who wears a lot of spikes and other sharp objects on their body for fun.

so they let it be. and they stay a little longer, this time.

this shift doesn't go unnoticed by the local gossips, but it also doesn't go unnoticed by the "freaks and geeks" at school. he develops, quite by accident, a reputation that rivals that of the king of freaks at hawkins. eddie munson wears the title proudly, clings to it with every antic and every quip that feeds into the rumors about him. but he respects what it took for steve to get here.

so he invites him along to a hellfire session. which turns into two. which turns into steve becoming a party member, which turns into him excitedly telling the kids he babysits that he gets it now, that yes, they can absolutely host their games at his house as long as they have rides back home.

but as he and eddie get closer as friends, eddie notices that as well as steve has done accepting himself as he is, he still misses the things he used to do without thinking much about needing sight to do it. contact sports and movies and other very visually inclined things. and listen, eddie's happy that steve has renounced the toxic social scene of jockdom, he really is, but he also recognizes a guy who misses pieces of his old life.

(he finds himself missing his old life, the life before wayne, all the time, just for the parts that didn't hurt him)

so eddie, much to steves surprise, suggests he try joining the swim team for the final quarter of his senior year. and hey, fuck it, what can it hurt? he's already a nerd now as well as a punk as well as disabled — he can go for one more oddball, not-quite-jock occupation. the coach has several stipulations, all of which steve takes in stride.

he's granted a tryout. he doesn't make it on.

eddie, in his wildest nightmares, doesn't touch sports. he's already athletic in other regards, naturally good at sprinting and lifting heavy things from taking equipment to and from band practice. he doesn't think he actually needs sports, but he's willing to go with steve to lake jordan to keep practicing. he's seen how stubborn harrington is, and he's not about to stop it.

eventually, they do these laps across the lake and back (it's a pretty small lake) just to get high once they're done. and fuck, if steve can swim the length of the lake, he can get a job at the new starcourt mall. and he does. he's there at scoops ahoy the bare minimum of hours they're required to give him to technically say he's employed, but at least he has work. his friends visit him there after their own jobs are done for the day, and eddie consistently shows up just to bug him.

robin, his coworker, is impressed and startled by this version of steve. she'd say she doesn't trust it, but there's nothing to trust really, about the shock of bright green hair or the way his eyes aren't actually that focused looking, or about the way he casually tells stories about getting high and swimming the length of lake jordan. not to mention, the chemistry he can't physically or metaphorically see between him and eddie is laughable to her, and entirely too obvious.

she ends up with one bad trip from the wrong dealer, and steve stays with her through the comedown, and she realizes she would probably die for him, because he sits there and listens to her buzzed ramble about tammy thompson and his bagel crumbs and other dumb shit from when he was still in high school. he's the first person she's ever come out to, and she's the first person he's ever thought could be a soulmate, the kind he'd never give his body but would marry in a heartbeat if she asked him.

he tells her about billy. she tells him about her mother. they tell each other a lot of secrets, more than he's ever told jonathan and nancy, or barb, or even eddie.

and then their workplace gets set on fire from a gas leak after hours. they pack up and go to family video, because they're a package deal. it's barb being on the crew that convinces keith to let steve take the job, and he has a new shtick joking about being a blind guy who likes movies.

then eddie probably takes him to one or two or maybe five. then they maybe make out after one of their swims. then steve starts going to eddies shows at the hideout, starts going with him damn near everywhere, and this was the kind of companionship he needed from the get go but didn't have. the kind where they support each other's interests without changing themselves for it, the kind where there is love born from fierce and unwavering friendship, the kind where loyalty is unquestionable but agreeing all the time is optional. and god.

steve harrington has been blind for a year. and he wears metal in his face and color in his hair. and he and his friends gather for movies just for the enjoyment of it. and he swims the lakes of hawkins with his boyfriend. and he plays dungeons and dragons with the kids who haven't let go of him just yet. and his parents aren't who he needs them to be yet, but they're trying. everyones trying. and eveyrone is enough.

and he's enough, at the end of the day.

[swarple]

BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS

Thoughts on the ending (nobody cares but I’ll share ‘em anyway! No one can stop me!):

When I got to the bit that was the Pines family laughing at Bill and whatnot, I at first was a little disappointed. I thought that was the ending and while they’re not wrong— Bill is a con artist and con artists tend to hype themselves up waaaay more than they deserve— Bill is also a pretty formidable enemy. And he’s a great character, and it felt almost like the book was saying not to care about him in any form or fashion. There’s a reason everyone was excited to read this book: Bill is a great villain. And I almost felt like the book was telling me “No he’s not, just forget about him. He sucks, haha.” That probably wasn’t the intention but for whatever reason it felt like that to me. Anticlimactic.

But then we got our big plot twist with the Axolotl, and not only is it HILARIOUS that it referred him to mandatory therapy for an indefinite period of time, it felt like a great balance between “Bill is a loser” and “Bill is an interesting character and it makes sense that you’re invested in him.” The book’s not cursed. Bill’s not as scary as he’s trying to make himself out to be. He’s selling himself as more than he actually is. BUT. He is trying to get you to break him out of mandatory therapy and insists that he doesn’t need help when he clearly does, and the folks at the Theraprism seem to genuinely believe he can change. I’m not sure that I believe it, but I guess if there are people willing to give him a chance, they don’t seem gullible enough to fall for his tricks so there’s nothing wrong with it. It ends up making his character even more interesting as he gets mad at you and asks “Is this what you really wanted,” etc. It was an ending that hilariously put him in his place while not denying him his status as a neat character with an interesting story.

Best of luck to those at the Theraprism. Not sure they’re gonna get through to this patient but hey, they have an eternity. Literally.

[xmalereader]

Joel Miller X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: I caved in….anyways, here is a Joel miller shot that takes place before the apocalypse, more of a Modern AU type and less of clickers and death. Prepare yourselves because this one is a sad one. Also, I officially have a schedule for shots every Monday and Friday so be prepared to have another shot tomorrow! You can find Joel miller Masterlist under the Javier Peña/agent whiskey tab.

Summary: Sarah takes notice of her dads changed behavior along with finding a strange picture at her neighbors house that’ll explain everything as to why her dads actions had changed.

Warnings: Angst, slight fluff, mentions of family, pre-apocalypse, break-ups, fear of rejection, slight mentions of homophobia, takes place in 2003, doubts, guilt, Joel is trying, acceptance.

Word count: 3.1k

—

—

Sarah knew that something was wrong when she arrived home after school. The first thing that she noticed was that the house was clean. She always did the cleaning after coming back home since her dad was rarely home and always working and used the extra time to organize the place. The next thing she noticed was the clean kitchen, not only was it clean but there was a meal ready too, showing that the meal had been eaten and some leftovers were left.

She can’t help but raise a brow in questioning, taking in everything before heading upstairs to her room and leaving her back pack by her desk and stepping back out into the hallway where she finds her dad exiting the bathroom. He was looks up startled at his daughters presence and softly sighs in relief. “Scared the hell out of me.” He huffs out before tussling her hair as he passed by her and asks. “How was school?”

Sarah follows him downstairs. “It was fine—boring like always.” She’s quick to add, jumping down the last step and giving the kitchen another glance. “You cooked and cleaned today.” She points out, getting her dads attention as his eyes roam around the room before clearing his throat. “Yeah, finished work early today and took the time to make some dinner.” His response is quick, walking over to the living room and looking out the window, giving him a nice view of the neighborhood.

His daughter stands behind him, still suspicious by his strange actions. She shakes it off and sighs to herself, ignoring the weird feeling she was getting and joining her dad on the couch as they search for a movie to watch and to keep themselves distracted. She told herself not to worry to much about the strange feeling only for it to return again after two days. Except it’s the weekend and she’s returning from her friends house, stepping inside her house only to see her dad wearing some decent clothes. He’s usually wearing plain shirts and his work pants throughout the day either too lazy to change or perhaps it was his style.

Seeing him dressed differently raised questions. “Going somewhere?” Sarah asks, getting her fathers attention who looks over his shoulder and gives her a soft smile. “Just gonna head out with some folks.”

“Dressed like that?”

Joel frowns, looking down at his own outfit and then back at his daughter. “What? Is it that bad?” He asks while she eyes him up and down, shaking her head. “No—just new…have fun though.” She encouraged with a smile on her face while Joel chuckled. “Your uncle Tommy is coming by to babysit you tonight, I’ll be back at nine.” He promises, kissing her on the forehead and rushing out the door with keys in hand. “Don’t open the door unless—“

“It’s uncle Tommy, I know.” Sarah finished and waved him off. “Go.” She added while Joel gives her another smile and leaves her alone until her uncle arrived. Sarah had spent the night in her room while her uncle lied in the living room couch watching Tv. She taps her fingers against her book and began to think about her fathers strange actions.

It wasn’t until the next day that Joel tells Sarah that he and Tommy would be working late and wouldn’t be home. He had advised her to stay at their neighbors house until he returned so that she wouldn’t be alone. The millers had grown to like their friendly neighbor. He was three years younger than Joel, living by himself and he worked in architect. Y/n always welcomed Sarah into his home on days that Joel would be working late, he’d make her some dinner and also bake her some cookies.

Sarah liked her neighbor and knew that he could probably help her with her situation. It wasn’t until after school that she’s inside Y/n’s house, sitting on dining table and finishing up her homework while Y/n sat across from her, his own work spread out on the table as he worked on the new blueprints for his project.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah finally speaks up. Setting her pencil down and watched as Y/n hums in response, focused on his measurements and drawing out a few lines.

“I think my dads seeing someone.”

Y/n’s pencil snaps, startling the two as he chuckled nervously. “Oops, must’ve gone a little hard on that one.” He laughs softly and sets the pencil aside before clearing his throat. “What makes you think that?” He finally asks.

“I don’t know—he’s just…” Sarah groans. “He’s doing things that he normally doesn’t do and it’s freaking me out.” She whines out.

“Like…?” Y/n raises a brow, urging her to continue.

“He usually doesn’t clean the house, I do that whenever I can. He had a cooked meal ready and he’s going out with friends—which I know he doesn’t really like to socialize and he’s starting to come home early. He’s always late.” Sarah grumbled, crossing her arms on the table and placing her head on top.

Y/n watched the young child sulk as he sighs to himself, moving his work to the side as he sits up straight. “People react in strange ways when they start going out with someone new. These things that he’s doing are examples of change; perhaps this person is making him react differently. I mean, like you said, he’s cooking meals which is something he rarely does along with cleaning and socializing and coming home early. I mean—“ he chuckled. “What if he isn’t seeing someone and just wants to change the way he does thing? A clean home along with a nice meal for his daughter, trying to know new people and extend his friendships, wanting to come back home early to be with his family.” He points out.

Sarah listens to his words and gives a few nods. Understanding why her dad would make changes and perhaps did take notice of current things that needed to change in order to improve his life a little. She kept thinking about her dad that the silence between her and Y/n is cut when Y/n silently asks.

“How would you feel about your dad dating someone?” His eyes focus on his work again, taking his pencil and sharpening it while focusing on the lines. He waits for her response which takes a few seconds for her to speak up. “I don’t know…I’d want him to meet a nice girl who’d make him happy. Someone that I could also get along with too and maybe have a mom again.” She giggled a little at the idea of having a family again. She was focused on the idea of her dad being happy again that she doesn’t notice the sad smile on Y/n’s face.

“That’s—that would be nice for you and Joel.” He said.

The rest of the day is spent with the two finishing up their own work and baking some cookies that Sarah later packs up to take back home. Once the sunset and the neighborhood grew quiet was when Joel finally returned back home from work, knocking on his door to pick up Sarah.

Y/n unlocks his door and gives Joel a smile. “She’s getting her things.” He let’s Joel know and offers him to wait inside while Sarah shoved her things inside her backpack. “Hey dad!” She calls out, zipping up her bag and holding up a ziplock stuffed with cookies. “Y/n made chocolate chip cookies, saved you a few.”

Joel chuckles at Sarah, pulling her close into a hug and kissing her head. “They look delicious.” He snatched the bag from her hands, causing the twelve her old to pout. “Hey!” She tries to take them back from home but he holds the bag away from her reach as she groans, gripping his forearm and trying to pull him down but Joel didn’t pudge.

Y/n laughs at the sight and shakes his head. “Alright, that’s enough you two.” He easily takes the cookies from Joel’s hand and hands them back to Sarah, earning a glare from Joel which he ignores. “Here.” He hands her the ziplock bag and clears his throat. “Uh, Sarah why don’t you head back home? I need to speak to your dad real quick.”

Sarah gives her dad a glance who nods. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” She gives him a nod and bids Y/n a goodnight before leaving the house. The two adults standing alone in the living room.

“I spoke to Sarah.”

Joel looks up. “About us?” He swallows nervously.

Y/n shakes his head. “No, not really.” He sighs out. “She was worried about you and thought that you’d been going out with someone. I asked her on what her opinion was on you dating.” His back is against the wall, leaning against it.

“What did she say?” Joel takes a small step forward.

“She said that she wanted you to find someone that made you happy along with starting a family again.”

Joel smiles. He didn’t know how Sarah would feel about him dating again after years of being on his own. His daughters happiness always came first and he didn’t want to mess things up. “That’s—“ He looks over at him only to see a hint of sadness in his eyes, causing his own smile to falter.

“Joel, she wants a Mother.”

Joel quickly understand what he was saying. The two had been dating for six months, keeping their relationship a low profile and not letting anyone know. Joel knew how people frowned upon couples who were the same sex, he wasn’t afraid of letting the public know but he was afraid of his own daughters thoughts and what she would say and think about him. He didn’t know if she’d accept the relationship or if she’ll feel comfortable around them. He didn’t know if their bond will be the same if someone else came into their life.

“Your daughter comes first and you know I can’t give her what she wants.” Y/n whispered, pushing himself off the wall and approaching Joel. He watched him carefully as the older man shakes his head, already knowing where this conversation was leading too. “We could tell her.” Joel blurts out.

“I don’t know, Joel.” Y/n sighs, looking down. “I don’t want to be the one who ruins a family. We both already knew how this would end if things didn’t go the way we wanted.” His tone is soft but full of pain. “Joel—“

“Please, don’t say it.” Joel is shaking his head, stepping forward and pulling him close. “We can’t end things like this not after I finally found someone to love again. I won’t just throw everything away and pretend like what we head meant nothing.”

Y/n didn’t want this either but had no choice. He blamed himself for falling in love with a man, less alone with a child he cared deeply about. He too cared for Sarah and sometimes saw her as his own daughter whenever they spent time together but after what she said he couldn’t bare to be the one to change her life. Joel’s daughter came first and knew that wouldn’t change.

He gentle nudged Joel, taking a step back and looking up to him. “We both know what happens after this.” He whispered, giving him a sad smile, holding back tears. “Goodbye, Joel.”

Joel stands frozen, looking into Y/n’s eyes as the other looks away, hiding the pain that lord behind his eyes. Joel wanted to reach out and hold him close in his arms and tell him that he loves him but knew that wouldn’t change things. Instead he gives him one last look and leaves the house, closing the door behind him quietly and making his way back to his own house where Sarah waits sitting in the living room, watching Tv and eating her cookies.

When Joel returned she looked over to him and frowns. “Dad, are you okay?” She stands from her spot and approached him.

“Yeah I’m alright, baby girl.” His response is faint.

“Then why are you crying?”

—

It’s been two weeks since their last conversation. Sarah still stayed at Y/n’s place after school and was picked up by Joel each time he came back home. The first few days of seeing each other again they fake their smiles and feelings from each other. Ignoring the headache that the two have and forcing themselves to continue on. Joel stopped picking up Sarah after the fourth day.

Every night, Y/n would hear the familiar truck engine arrive next door. Signaling Joel’s return from work and letting Y/n know that Sarah is to get back home. He’d help her pack up and would stand outside watching her leave his place and entering safely into her own house. There were only a few times that he caught glimpses of Joel leaving his house early in the morning, getting ready for work. He tried his best to avoid any interactions with Joel, rushing inside his own house whenever he saw the familiar truck approaching. As childish as it sounded he couldn’t face joel.

During the second week he was helping Sarah with a school project, making a board and helping her with gluing different printed out imagines while she did the writing. When Y/n hears the engine he glanced up at the clock, taking notice that Joel always came back home at eight thirty. He sighs to himself and sits up from his spot on the floor. “Alright, kiddo. Time to go home.”

“Awe, we were almost done.”

Y/n chuckled, gathering up her things and placing them inside her folder. “You can finish back at your place, you just have to glue these last few pictures and you’ll be done.” He hands her the folder which contained all of her homework. “Fine.” Sarah puts her things away and smiles widely. “Can I borrow your Walkman while I do homework?”

“You do know that no one uses those anymore?”

“I know but you have good music.”

Y/n rolls his eyes and nods. “Fine, why don’t you go get it in my room while I finish cleaning. It should be on the nightstand next to my bed or in the drawer.” He calls out to her as she rushed upstairs to his bedroom where he kept his Walkman.

Sarah stalks inside the room, still not used to entering places that didn’t belong to her. She approached the nightstand and pulls the drawer open to find the Walkman with no headset. She sets it on his bed and digs around his drawer until she finds the headphones, smiling in triumph as she held them in her hands. She goes back to close the drawer only to take notice of a picture of her dad sticking out from underneath a book.

Her curiosity gets the best of her and slides the photo out. Holding it between her fingers as she looks at the picture to see her dad giving the camera a smile while Y/n stared at her father, recognizing his expression. She quickly tucks the photo away and collects her things while rushing downstairs.

“Did you find it?” Y/n asks, startling Sarah a little while she nods. “Yeah, I found it.” She shows him the Walkman and gets her bag and poster. “Let me walk you out—“

“I’m fine! I gotta finish this quick, goodnight!” She rambled out while slamming the door behind her, leaving a stunned Y/n while she ran back home.

“You alright?” Joel suddenly asks upon seeing his daughter running inside the house frantically, rushing to her room and putting her things away while walking back downstairs to find her dad with raised brows. “You okay?” He asks again, worried about his own daughter.

“I think so.” She opens and closes her mouth. Hesitate to speak as she glanced at her dad who focused on making himself a sandwich. His old habits had come back after two weeks. He was back to his old self which didn’t surprise Sarah. “I asked Y/n if I could borrow his Walkman so, that I could listen to some music while finishing my homework.” She began to say. “I was in his room and found a picture…it was you and him together.”

Joel grows tense, his appetite gone as he pushed the finished sandwich to the side and cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

Sarah nervously approached her dad. “I didn’t think much about it until I saw Y/n’s expression and the way he looked at you. It’s the same look that you used to give mom whenever she smiled or when she’d do something that you liked.” She picked at her nails, looking at her dad every once an awhile. “Did something happen between you two?” Her voice is small.

Joel takes notice and leans against the counter. He didn’t think that she’d find out about them, instead he thought that he’d continue on with life and pretend like his relationship with Y/n meant nothing and that the two never did anything. Now, here he stood in front of his daughter who’s asking about their relationship. He felt guilty from hiding his relationship from his own daughter but had his reasons as to why he was hiding it, afraid of losing his own daughter and ruining the loving bond that he had with her.

“Dad.”

Joel is pulled out of his thoughts, putting his attention on his daughter. “No.”

Sarah frowns at her own dad.

“Then why are you crying?”

[cherrygukkie]

Late Night Encounters| jjk

Summary: A student-athlete like you, who flies under the radar, never expected to become enemies with someone like Jeon Jungkook, an annoying talkative senior who goes out of his way to make your life a living hell. But what happens when your rivalry takes some twists and turns, and your hate turns into something else? Will getting too close to Jungkook reveal a side of him that you’ve never seen before?

Word Count: 5,2k

AN: Hey folks! This is something I came up with in the middle of the night, so I hope that you all enjoy this as much as I am currently planning all of this out! :) But yeah, I don't have anything else to say, but to enjoy this first snippet of Jk and OC's relationship. Love yah mwahh!!

Props to @dollfaceksj for beta-reading thank you <3

READ: (Pls comment and give feedback it's all welcomed. It'll help me stay motivated.)

Lmk if there are any errors please and thank you.

••••••••

Thursday, 7:03 a.m.

It’s early in the morning, and you know what that means…. School time!!!

Yay… school.

You’re currently at school, exhausted. That wasn’t out of the ordinary though. No matter how much sleep your body gets you still end up tired. At this point, you've accepted the fact that you’re a sleepy girl.

Putting on your beats, you turn the music volume to the max. Hopefully, music can give you a little energy and help you get through the day because you need it.

Surprisingly Yoongi or Taehyung weren't at school around this time. Usually, the three of you arrived at the same time, if something came up you’d receive a message from either one of them. They didn’t tell you yesterday or text you, so you check their location.

When you do it shows that they are on the road, moving in the same area. 

They were driving somewhere…

The direction they are going is further away from the school. You being curious, you took it upon yourself to see what’s up with them.

Letting out a yawn, you call Yoongi, and not even a second later, he declines.

What the fuck?

You decide to shoot Taehyung a message since they’re together and he responds…

You: um why aren’t you or Yoongi at school?

You: I see that you guys are driving and I feel left out.

Taehyung : Sorry Y/N. I was supposed to tell you, but It slipped my mind.

Yeah, just like how my foot is gonna slip up both their asses.

Taehyung: We got caught up in some last-minute shit.

•okay, but my question is still unanswered.

You: where are you guys going though???

Read.

Taehyung left you on read along with him being secretive about his location… that’s unusual and weird.

Extremely weird…

“Such shitheads for ditching me,” you mutter, shoving your phone in your pocket. Great… Now today is going to be the definition of boring without dumber and dumbest.

You open your locker, replacing your books with your skateboard. The bell is going to ring shortly, so you start walking to class. You slam your locker shut, striding down the halls with the volume of your headphones sounding out everything and everyone, just how you liked it.

Your face was frowned up until ETA by NewJeans came on. A smile creeps onto the corner of your mouth as angelic voices enter your ears and a flicker of amusement manages to lighten your mood.

“what’s your ETA!” “what’s your ETA!”

Just when your grumpy spirit is starting to lift, someone swoops in from the right, snatching your headphones off your ears. The music is gone and the little smile you grew shattered into a million pieces.

You freeze, taken back by his audacity. “You did not… just take my headphones.” 

You turn around to see the one and only, Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook who surprisingly wasn’t wearing his usual Calvin Klein attire. Instead, he had on a pair of distressed jeans with a soft blue zip-up jacket.

The way he has his jacket off his shoulder is so baby girl of him

Jungkook smirks, holding the headphones out of reach. “New Jeans? Really?” He could hear even while they were hanging above your head. That’s how loud the music was.

“Give it back!” you demand, through a big jump to retrieve your headphones. Each time you jumped, his hand went higher and higher. Jungkook enjoyed watching you struggle, especially if it’s because of him.

“You don’t seem like the type to listen to New Jeans,” he says, ignoring the fact that he’s holding your property. “They’re so uplifting and joyful… and you-” Jungkook pauses, eyeing you down. You could sense the insult coming.

You talk over him, not letting him finish. “Why are you doing this?”

It’s too early to play his stupid games. He couldn’t wait until Chemistry class? 

“Just doing my daily dose of annoying you.” He clicks his tongue, dangling the headphones with his index finger. 

“Well, congratulations, Jungkook. You’ve succeeded once again. Now give me back my headphones and leave me alone,” you demand again, reaching up only for him to hold them higher.

At this damn point, your arms are moving in the air desperately like a lunatic. This is taking place in the middle of the halls… in front of people. 

How fucking embarrassing is that?

ugh, I hope that people don’t think I’m a pushover now…

You raise your voice, walking up to Jungkook. “Give me my shit back!” 

The anger in your voice draws attention in the halls. Right after you speak, multiple eyes burn into your soul. You look around and people are staring at the both of you with concerned faces. Part of you wanted to tell them to mind their shit and keep it pushing, but you take a breath, taking a chill pill.

 “Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, bringing your hands together. “Can I have my beats back? They’re too expensive to be played around with.” You swallow all the bass in your tone.

“What’s the magic word?” Jungkook teases, exposing the dimple on his right cheek. Beasty, huh? you've never understood why he gave you such a nickname in the first place. Assuming it was an insult, you always ignored it.

Today wasn’t the day for his stupid games, he for sure wasn’t getting a please out of you.

You blink constantly, accepting your defeat. “You know what… I’m not doing this shit today. You can keep them, you jerk.” Walking away from Jungkook, you try to speed walk to class in need to get away from him. You’re already dealing with limbs that could barely function and heavy eyelids, you aren't in the mood to play.

Searching for peace didn't last how you wanted. Jungkook catches up with you, refusing to leave you alone. 

"Careful there or you'll drop your books."

You look over at Jungkook who was keeping up with your speed. “I hate you.”

A little laugh sneaks past his lips before speaking, “No, you don’t.”

He had the presence of a fly, no matter how much you shoo him away he always finds his way back.

Why do you despise him with a passion?

Why is Jeon Jungkook your nemesis?

The reason behind it is a story. It started when you ran into him on a chaotic evening at the worst moment possible, just when you thought the hole you were in couldn't get any deeper...it did.

*Flashback!*

4 months ago...

Friday evening, 7:37 p.m.

Stuck in the middle of traffic, you’re repeatedly hitting crazy turns, left, right, left, left, right, right, nonstop. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for missing the bus and being an irresponsible dumbass.

Yeah, it's true...you were late to a game. It's not all your fault, though. To be fair it was a last-minute one that the coach signed everyone up for. Earlier today, you had to stay after school to figure out some arrangements with your teachers for your grades. It was either that or nothing because bad grades equal no volleyball.

All work was uncompleted, besides Mrs. Parker's class. That was your favorite class and you had an A+, so you didn't have to visit her. You had to visit everyone else and it didn’t go as planned. Besides giving you an extension on the work, you were assigned a tutor for the next 2 months.

Your schedule was dedicated to volleyball, therefore you had no free days unless it was the weekend, and as much as you didn't want to sacrifice it, you had to.

Girl, your grades were crying.

You need to maintain them to keep volleyball in your life. Today was Saturday and you decided to start. It wasn't a problem because you had no plans at all… well that’s what you thought. 

You put your phone on do not disturb, just to concentrate, not to ignore anybody.

You just needed your mind to be fixated on school for once, not a ball, not a net, or a gym.

🏐🥊

During those long hours of catching up and studying you weren't aware of the messages in your group chat. You packed up all your things and you went directly to your messages to see 100+ texts from the group chat.

You open it thinking it's about the next practice or probably not expecting a message like this.

Coach [: "I'm sorry to spring this on you girls on such short notice, but I received an email from a coach from another district about playing against his team because apparently, the other team forfeited before the game.

Coach [: I agreed to it thinking maybe you girls could use the extra practice, you know? explore other teams and their ways of playing."

Coach [: "The school is far, so I recommend you gear up and be at the gym by school at 6:20 because the drive is longer than 30 minutes and we all need to ride the bus together, as a team."

Coach [: "There's no reason why any of you should be late because I'm texting you a couple of hours before, so please be on time okay you all know how I am about tardiness."

The more we are late the more we condition....

Coach [: "Okay, but that's all. I'll see you all in a bit, be ready!"

You take your phone off Do not disturb, then you exit the building, phone, and bag in hand checking your missed calls,

Reading that you had numerous missed calls from the coach, you call her and she answers immediately. The phone barely got through the first ring. You opened your mouth to speak, but her lecture overpowered you. "Y/N where the hell are you? the game is about to start!"

You're so stuck you couldn't give a proper answer so all you say is, "Huh?" the confusion in your response made her angrier.

"You are late Y/N! You were supposed to be on the bus an hour ago!"

Coach sent that message at 3:36 and when you checked the time it was 7:15 p.m. It was like glass shattering when your heart sank realizing you lost track of time. Your phone shook in your trembling hands, too stunned to speak.

It's been that long?!?

She tells you that the game has already started and that you need to be on your way now, especially with you being one of the main players you were needed no matter what, or the rotation would be switched.

It was still the beginning of the season, so people were only familiar with their positions. Having rotations changed and adjusted to something last minute during a game is a total mess. A rule in volleyball is if you were out of rotation they deduct points, and that was unacceptable.

"C-coach, I'm sorry-" you tried to sound sincere with a pounding heart and unsteady voice. "I'll get there as fast as possible." She ends the conversation by hanging up the phone.

Well goddamn.

Then and there you knew you were "Fucked." you muffled, in your hand. "I am so fucked...."

You start running as fast as you can and thankfully the dorms aren't too far from the school, so you arrive shortly. You swung the door open and rushed to your room not greeting your roommate, but that didn't matter.

She wasn't the nicest...

When you get in your room you start tossing things everywhere trying to find your jersey. That's what you get for misplacing important shit, that's what your mom would tell you after you'd lost something and it played in your mind on a loop.

At some point, you found everything and shoved it in your bag racing out the door to the parking lot. And there you are speeding recklessly in your car, slamming your fist on the horn honking at cars, cutting them off doing all you can to escape from this major traffic jam.

You weave through traffic pressing on the gas pedal, “Come the fuck on…” you yell, feeling your frustration build up. “Can these cars go any slower?!? I’m almost there!”

Why does everything go wrong on inconvenient days…?

Finally, you arrive at the stadium, and you pull into the parking lot and your eyes dart immediately to a good spot in between two cars surprisingly in front of the entrance. There were a shit ton of people here...

You turn the wheel parking your car thinking none of it, then suddenly there is this noise you heard. In the mise of hearing that sound, your whole car jolted back from the impact, even though it was the slightest tap.

Leaning forward a bit, you see the space you have in front of you and your jaw drops in disbelief. "Please no...." This could not be happening right now.... you're already in trouble for being an hour late and now you have to deal with this.

To fix your parking, you back out and properly pull in between the two cars. After, you take a moment to close your eyes and cross your fingers hoping that the damage wasn't too severe. Your pockets had flies coming out of them…. you couldn't afford to fix a damn car.

Let's pray that there was nothing there and you could move on with life, peacefully. You got out of the car to check yours first. It was in perfect condition and not a single mark was on it, maybe that was a sign of something good.

You rushed to the back of the black car to confirm that the crunching noise you heard was in fact the bumper that was dented up, terribly. The back of the vehicle even had scratches and the black paint was scraped off.

It was bad...

"Oh my god..." you mouthed nervously. The car did look fancy and highly expensive. It didn't take long for you to realize that the car you hit was a Mercedes-Benz, but not only that it was the newest version. "You've got to be fucking kidding me...." you screamed, burying your face in your palms.

How the hell were you going to pay for the damages on this car, a damn Mercedes?!? To be fair, you weren't poor, you just didn't have money like that, or you didn't have any on you. And bothering your parents with this rough situation was the last you wanted to do. They were already helping you pay for volleyball camp, so there was no need to shake them for more money.

Your hands found their way to your head gripping your hair, stressfully. "Ugh, I should've been on the damn bus!" you yell again, feeling stupid. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for the rookie mistake.

Too busy pacing back and forth and complaining you didn't notice that there wasn't a single soul in the car. By now someone would've come out to give you shit for hitting their vehicle.

You instantly got an idea.

And that idea was to walk away and pretend nothing happened.

Why not? nobody was outside, nobody saw you and nobody was inside the car meaning there's no proof of you hitting their car attempting to park.

That intense feeling wore off and your body relaxed a little. You look both ways before crossing the street.

Thank god, you didn't have to deal with a rich bitch or asshole who'd exaggerate the problem like the car was their child and make you pay more than you have to. You sigh, walking away, ready to enter the school and deal with the coach because that was next on the checklist.

You stuff your hands in your pockets, making your way towards the entrance, until you hear something. That something was the sound of a car door getting slammed violently.

"What the hell? are you fucking kidding me?!?" the mysterious man shouted. He sounded upset—a more fitting word, enraged. "Hey, you! black sweatshirt."

Yep, that was you. A girl in a black sweatshirt who was trying to ditch the situation.

"Hm?" you slowly turned around as if you were innocent.

Your guilty eyes met his deep brown cold ones. He looked very pissed right now. "Hm?" the mysterious boy mocked your act. "You fucked up my shit!" he pointed to the poor bumper.

You nibble on your lip, caught up and no he wasn't wrong that's exactly what you were going to do.

"What?” You fix your thick frames. "Dude, what are you talking about? I didn't fuck up anything. I was only walking out here getting fresh air, that's all..."

"Oh really?" He took a step closer moving under the moon. It was easier to make out the details. Soft dark curly long hair, muscular figure, piercings, tattoos.... a dangerous combination a guy could have.

Damn.

He wore a Calvin Klein denim jacket with a matching shirt and bold thick platformed boots. He looked like your typical bad boy or fuck boy, you choose. You’d never seen him before, ever.

You reacted, backing away from his unnecessary step. "Yes?"

"You are lying and you fucking suck at it.”

You tried flipping the script. “That’s what you think.”

“It’s what I know and now you’re starting to piss me off.”

"Okay, shit!" Your arms slap your sides, defeated. "I hit your car, okay? But it was a mistake. I was rushing to get to my game and I was going to leave because I needed to avoid this. After all, I'm already late and my coach is upset with me." Listening to you, his eyes were rolled to the back of his head, tired of hearing your sob story. "It was seriously an accident, I misjudged the distance between the cars," you continued. "I'm fucking sorry, okay?"

He was able to see that you were going through a tough time, but did he care? Hell no. He wasn't having any of that. For fucks sake, you hit his car and that's all he cared about, not some girl who's using being late as an excuse to recklessly drive.

“Do you know how much it’s going to cost me to get fixed?”

"No, I don't, but I do know that it's going to be pricey and trust me if I had the money I would pay for the expenses, but I don't have much money right now..."

"Oh, great. Miss careless driver not only hits my car, but she can't afford to fix it. Just what I fucking needed today."

You continued to apologize and reason with him, but he cut you off. "You expect me to accept your apology? That doesn't change the fact you hit my car. I could care less about a fucking apology right now.”

Now... it was bothering you a little. Despite the situation, this guy was being a dickhead.

Did you hit his car? Yes, you did and he has every right to be angry, but there should be some way that this can be resolved respectfully without being an asshole. And that's what he was doing, he's raising his voice, expecting you to stand there like a fool.

He had no idea who he was talking to. You frowned, no longer feeling ashamed or apologetic for hitting his car.

"No, it isn't but I'm sure that if you can afford a Mercedes then I'm sure you have the money to fix the damn bumper yourself," you argued.

"You're right," he chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "I can afford to get it fixed. I don't know why I thought that someone...." His voice trailed off as he faced your car. ".... someone who drives a 2010 Ford Taurus could even pay for a single scratch on my car."

broke bitch alert!!!

He turned around, lifting his brows, waiting for a response from you. The disrespect was too real and you blurted out an aggressive, “Fuck you.”

He was seriously calling you broke…

“And fuck you for hitting my car.” The guy got closer, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were familiar somehow. “You...” His voice trailed off from looking at your sweatshirt.

He got distracted from the words on it. It had your team and university labeled on it.

“You don’t even go to this school, do you?” he asks.

The mysterious boy’s question threw you off. Your eyes darted everywhere before talking. "No...?" you replied lost. "Why the hell does it even matter?"

“I knew you seemed familiar.” He nodded, getting struck by a moment of realization. "You're that one volleyball player who plays at ____ university?" He asked, reading your shirt. "And you're Y/N, right?"

“Yeah, why?”

"You know what-" he smacked his lips. "I'll let this slide this time one time.” You wanted to say thanks, too bad part of you was still heated from the argument, but how did he know your name?

You watched him walk to his car, and then he opened the door. “Just stay the hell out of my way, got it?"

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

"More than happy too,” you shout.

Once he got into his car, you turned around and ran inside the school. heading straight to the gym. You saw your team on the court, playing hard in an intense rally as you walked in. There was a shit ton of people cheering, yelling and screaming.

The noise was a mixture of good and bad…

You glanced at the score and thankfully, it was a tie. Coach gave you a deadpan as you walked towards her with guilt. Like you were expecting, she scolded you or whatever, and then she called a time-out.

All the girls left the court to get water and catch their breaths. Coach like usual, went over everyone's positions and dos and don'ts. While she did so, you slid out of your hoodie and sweatpants, revealing your jersey and shorts under.

You were prepared.

You scanned the crowds on your school's side and damn near everyone showed up to support the team. Some classmates waved at you and of course, you returned the kind gesture, glad to see them here to support the team.

Then randomly out of nowhere, you saw the same guy enter the gymnasium. He walks up a few flights of bleachers to sit with Jimin, Seokjin, and some other guy you don't know.

You assumed they were his friends.

When he's done greeting them... his attention landed on you, only you. It was weird after that interaction you had with him.

Looking away from him, you tried to regain your focus on the girls and coach.

"You all are doing great; except I need you all to make it harder for them. Let's stop fooling around and get in the lead and let it stay that way. Now that Y/N is here there's no more confusion now, the lineup is back to normal. Everyone with me?" Coach looked at everyone and they responded with nodding heads or a yes ma'am.

"Go out there and make them work, make them sweat."

The girls, including you, did your signature hand-stack a second after the buzzer went off. Girls that were benched sat down and girls that were on the court returned to the floor.

You simply do you and you get on the court to do what you're best at.

Play volleyball.

Things went back to normal, everyone played their hearts out, and in the end. You won the game.

But throughout the process, you couldn't help but notice his stares during the whole game. Anytime you'd look in his direction his focus was already on you.

The more you looked at him the more you remembered his identity. Now him knowing your name made sense because he attends your school along with him being in your 5th period.

Chemistry.

His name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook. He was a new exchange student from Seoul, but you couldn’t remember his major, although you did remember that he’s in a relationship with a girl named Alex who was well known at your school. Which is also how Jungkook was known in the first place.

It’s surprising because you hardly recognized him due to your head being on such a swivel.

It’s crazy that you've never even crossed paths before.

Ever since your first impression of Jungkook, the universe did its thing where he appeared everywhere now and you couldn’t escape him…

For some odd reason, he stood out even more because every day he went out of his way to bother you and piss you off, constantly. You haven't liked him since then and now you don't like him even more and couldn’t avoid him.

He didn't keep his word when you ran into him and he told you this exactly: "Stay the hell out of my way."

You’ve been stuck with this idiot ever since then.

*Present*

“Should I have taken your glasses instead?” he jokes, knowing damn well you are practically blind. You could see, but not too well.

You bark, “Why are you bothering me?”

“You should’ve never hit my car,” he says, words rolling off his tongue with a shrug.

“Oh, fuck off,” you aggressively tell him, wishing he’d disappear like dust into the air. 

How long was he going to hold you accountable for that? It’s been months.

“I’ll fuck off when you tell me what’s up with you. You seem more feisty than usual….” You immediately stop walking to glare at Jungkook who places his finger on his chin.  “Did one of your little boyfriends piss you off?”

He’s referring to Taehyung and Yoongi…

 “Wow… your detective skills are impressive,” you sarcastically praise him, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Is that all you got?”

Jungkook strokes his chin. “Am I right?”

“Those aren’t my boyfriends and you are wrong, but why do you even care about what’s going on with me?”

“I don't, I'm just curious,” He replies, sounding interested in the reason for your attitude. “And you look like shit and it’s not because of me… so I want to know.”

“Yeah, and I feel like it too,” You admit, feeling the sleepiness weigh you down. “Like always…” an exhausted sigh leaves your lips.

“Why?” he asks, headphones still in his possession.

Jungkook's questions make you rub your temples. “I’m exhausted and later today I’m gonna be busy. I have to attend the sports event. You know where all athletes are required to go?”

“I’m familiar.” Jungkook places the headphones around his neck. “They announced the dumb thing yesterday.”

“It’s not dumb, Jungkook,” you declare, folding your arms, giving him a deadpan. “It's an important and great opportunity for all college athletes. It only happens once a year.”

The sports event in the evening that you are attending is an event for all athletes. It allows students to meet other teams including school teams, professional teams and club teams.

It’s a chance to ask professional coaches and players for advice for future reference. Sometimes, people who are that good get recruited to play on a team outside of school with the professionals.

That happens to maybe a couple of students out of the multitude of schools put together. Being chosen is such an amazing opportunity, you get to be on national television, by any chance make history, and get paid tons and other good things, but you weren’t banking on it this year.  The odds of you getting scouted out were more than average, however, there are still things you’re insecure about when it comes to playing.

If anything, you need to secure those first before putting yourself out there, on national television.

“Beasty…” he says as if he had a question.

“Yes...?” you lazily nod slowly, watching his tongue glide over his teeth while smirking. 

He better not ask to be my additional person

Was he going to ask you if he could be your extra guest this evening? You’re currently figuring out who’s that going to be, but it damn sure wasn’t going to him.

“Will-”

You squint your eyes, hoping this isn’t leading to a proposal. “Wait… you aren’t suggesting that I should take you-”

 “No, I’m already going,” he claims, shaking his head. “And I have my date for this evening. I was just wondering about yours.”

Date, hm?

“So, who is it?” he asks, intrigued. 

It's purely silent for a moment, but you think of something quickly to save yourself from the embarrassment-

You quickly speak up. "I have a date,” you throw in proudly, ignoring how big of a lie that is. 

All you care about is covering your ass at the moment, not the backlash.

you’re such a fucking liar.

"Right, so who is it?"

You dodge his question. “Who's your date, Jungkook?” you ponder, pretending that your curiosity isn’t bouncing off the walls. You could feel it in your bones.

Jungkook isn't an athlete for the school, so that means the person he will be attending the event with is someone who goes to this school or someone else.

His face twitches with amusement. Seeing you in his business is a sight for him. “A very good friend of mine…”

“Is she on my team?” 

“I can assure you she isn’t.” Jungkook cackles before confirming, “Volleyball players aren’t my type.”

Then what is?

•that’s a relief

“She goes to another school anyway. I can guarantee that you don’t know her.” Jungkook watches your eyes drop from his face to his neck, then grips the headphones firmly.

“Enough about mine,” he says as he changes the subject unexpectedly. “Who’s your…” A smile plastered on his face. “Date. And don't answer my question with another question."

Hm, who is your date??

"It's a secret," you whisper, motioning sealed lips. "I'll reveal mine once I see yours.”

He gives a subtle shrug. "Fair enough," Jungkook says, nodding his head, acknowledging your agreement.

*Bell rings!* 

“Oh, won’t you look at that?” Placing your hands on your hips, you point out, “It's time to go class…so-” you stare at the headphones again. “Are you going to hand them over or what?” 

Jungkook looks down at your hand and laughs when you extend it out. “Should I?” He calmly asks, pushing your buttons. You start to tap your foot impatiently, exaggerating your irritation.

He thinks to himself for a moment, before his eyes drop to the beats around his neck, then shortly locks eyes with your frustrated ones. “Actually… I want to hang onto these for a little while. These will come in handy during my workout.”

“Fine! Keep them,” you express with a dramatic slap to the side of your thighs. “But don’t think that I won’t get them back.”

As the warning bell rings, you shoot him a withering glare and without wasting a single second, you storm off to class with only one particular thing on your mind… and it wasn’t the headphones…

Who is Jungkook's date?

To be continued…

♡︎Taglist is here, lovelies

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - A Ted Nivison x Reader (Lemon)

{{-Here we are folks. We've finally reached the first smut chapter, Chapter. I ain't gonna say much except definitely go and read Chapter 5 before this one cause it's somewhat necessary. All other chapters will be listed at the bottom. Enjoy 😊 pls don't ban me-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ Fic, Reader is implied to be afab and under 5'5

Chapter Warnings: PURE SMUT. IF YOU'RE UNDER 18 GO AWAY. Heavy kissing, fingering, Ted giving head, passionate shii, finishes inside, whole noin yawds\\

Word Count: 4.9k (y/w)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 & @callsign-scully

☆Thank y'all for bein' as nasty as me LMAO☆

Chapter 6: No Cameras

Ted is looking at me with this stupid half-smile on his face, knowing full well he had caught me red handed. I'm scrolling through my panicked mind to find some sort of excuse that'll make sense, but I don't think I can talk my way out of this one.

"You fuckin' did, didn't you?" Ted asks, his smile only getting bigger the longer I take to answer. He's keeping his eyes on mine, keeping his hands on his laptop's mousepad to keep the light from dimming. I break the eye contact by rolling my eyes and shake my head. "Keep dreaming.." I mutter, trying to play off my clear embarrassment with a scoff. "No no no no, I fucking know what I saw! I'm not letting you avoid it this time." Ted chuckles, setting his laptop aside to sit up more in my direction. I turn away to turn on the lamp beside me. I feel like I need to see his face at all times, like something bad will happen if I can't see him. Maybe I want something bad to happen.

"'This time'?" I repeat, furrowing my brows at him. "When have I ever--"

"This afternoon, when we were stuck in the truck?" Ted raised his brows at me, giving me this 'I gotcha' expression. "I let it slide when you checked me out the first time; chalked it up to you playin' with me, now I'm not so sure."

"Playing with you?" I repeated what he said again. Seems repeating back what he's saying to me is all I can muster up, he's reading me like a book and I don't want to give him any more pages.

"Like our back and forths? I thought it was still just that, but now? I mean, pshh, if I'm wrong, tell me and I'll leave ya alone."

"Leave me alone?" I raise a brow at Ted while trying to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah. If I'm--If I'm just fuckin' crazy, tell me and I'll leave. I won't bring it up again tomorrow and we can...keep things as they are, I guess." Ted explained, gesturing to me. "But I don't think I'm crazy."

Remember that timer I mentioned? Now I feel like it's counting down from 20. I can practically hear the ticking in my head as I lock eyes with Ted once more. I'm trying to read his expression. I'm looking for any signs of how he's feeling as well. He's been saying things like 'why I couldn't kiss you doesn't need to be said at this rate' and 'we should be louder', but I can't recall him ever making a move. Our chemistry can't be denied, and neither can my attraction to him, yet I'm still having doubts. If I lie, he leaves my room and never brings it up again, but I may never discover how he feels, and all of this tension will fizzle out into an unsatisfying nothing. But if I tell the truth and he doesn't feel the same, the next 2 and a half weeks are going to be incredibly awkward. He could even quit, or maybe I'd have to quit.

I'm terrified of having the wrong idea about all of this. I don't know when or if the playful flirting became real, I don't know when or if the sarcastic pet names became real, but we've been sitting together, teaming up, going out to run errands, kissing longer than we should. I can't pinpoint a single moment where either of our teasing may have blossomed into something more.

But...it can't just be my imagination. There has to be more.

"I....may have glanced.." I admit with an embarrassed smile, looking up at the ceiling and turning my head away from Ted. I didn't want to see his reaction, but he certainly made it known. "Oh my god.." Ted playfully gasps, I can hear him grinning ear to ear, it's making me anxious "You like me! Do you like me??"

"...I gotta fix the curtains.." I mutter to myself, finding an excuse to get out of bed. I turn off the lamp first, a quiet huff leaving me. I still couldn't tell how he was feeling, and it was bothering me. Was he making fun of me? My face felt so warm, I didn't want him to look at it at all. "Oh no fucking way. Stay there, we're talkin' about this." I hear Ted chuckle and move around a little. "I'm not going fucking anywhere until I get some answers."

I move to open the curtains, taking a quiet but deep breath as I struggle to pull them apart. I have to lean over a dresser just to get to the curtains so I'm initially too distracted to hear that Ted was getting out of bed, until it's too late. I watch his hand take my arm so I'm forced to look at him, realizing he's practically got me cornered. Behind me is the air conditioner, and behind that is a wall. The only other place I can move to now is the bed, unless Ted moves.

"You can't act like it's all a fuckin' joke now. I gotchu, (Y/N). I gotchu."

"'Got me' what?" I huff with an embarrassed smile, once again avoiding eye contact as I remove his hand from my arm. "It was a glance."

"Oh you're gonna try and fuckin' lie now, eh princess? Not gonna own it?"

"Own what?"

"That you like me! You've given me the fuckin' kissing tell twice today! Off camera! What, you don't wanna kiss me now?"

"I wanted to open the curtains."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"Ted, I can't move--"

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"I wanna get out of this corner--"

"Look at me then."

"Ted, it's the fucking tell for our film, it doesn't mean--"

"If it doesn't mean anything, look at me."

I roll my eyes and turn my head to face him once more, seeing just how close he had really gotten to me. His body was merely inches away from mine, and man, was he towering over me. It was a little overwhelming, I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. He's looking at me with that same devilish half-smile from before. I can't hold back the urge to smile, a light giggle leaving me as I force myself to break away from his gaze. I'm almost glad he caught me. He's so handsome. When he gives me those eyes, I panic. I can't look him straight in the eyes for too long. I feel like I'm falling right into a trap, but maybe I wanted to be caught. And yet I still try to talk my way out of it.

"Y-You were talking! I was just--I was listening to you talk." I huffed, shrugging with my hands out somewhat. I knew I sounded defensive as fuck, I couldn't control my tone. I was so nervous. Even with my body facing Ted, I couldn't look him in the eye. "You were talking. You were talking a-and I'm not gonna stare at you the entire fucking time you're talking. That's weird. Like-like what am I, a fuckin' owl?? Just staring at you?? No, you have other places--I have other places I have to look when someone's speaking! Doesn't mean I want to-mmmh--"

My ramblings are interrupted by the feeling of Ted's lips pressing against mine gently, one of his hands moving to my waist with the other resting upon my cheek. For a moment, I'm frozen in time. He's kissing me. He's kissing me again. There's no camera's and he's kissing me. I can't think straight. I can't think...at all.

That moment when you kiss someone

and everything around you becomes hazy...

And the only thing in focus is you and this person.

I allow my body to relax and return the gentle kiss, closing my eyes to slip into this intimacy fully. Ted pulls me in closer to deepen the kiss, almost hungrily so, like he's been waiting just as long as I have to be together again. By the time I got comfortble enough to move one of my hands, Ted breaks the kiss, keeping his hands on me. I open my eyes to meet his affectionate gaze, my lips still slightly parted from the kiss. Any and all anxiety I had been feeling has just disappeared. I feel...assured.

"Is that what you wanted?.." He speaks to me quietly with a light nod, slowly caressing my cheek with his thumb. I tried. I really tried. I tried not to 'catch feelings', I told Joe I wasn't sleeping with him, but my god do I want his lips on mine. I want to kiss him. I want him close. I want him to be mine, even just for tonight. I don't want him to leave. "I don't know.." I admit with a quiet giggle, lightly biting my lower lip. "You...might have to do it again...or a couple more times...just to see."

"A couple more, eh?.." Ted smirks deviously, moving his hand to firmly grab my jaw, keeping me still so I can't turn away this time. "You sure you want that? With everyone here?"

"'Everyone'? Please..." I playfully scoff at him, glancing down at his blush toned lips once more before gazing into his earthy eyes. "There's no cameras in here, Ted.."

Ted's smile grows, shaking his head a little at me before leaning in to kiss me once more. A satisfied purr leaves him when I don't hesitate to kiss him back this time. I once again find myself on cloud nine, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. He moves his hand from my jaw so he can hold my waist with both hands, pulling me in closer to press his body against mine. He tilts his head more in the deep kiss, and I feel his tongue once again lightly glide along my lower lip. I slowly open my mouth to allow his tongue to move along mine, hearing him quietly snicker in the kiss in response. God, he's hot, and he knows it. He must know it.

When the kiss begins to pick up even more, I let a quiet moan escape me, bringing my hands down to cup his face. This makes him pull from the kiss briefly to look at me once again, his eyes lingering on my lips. My face once again feels like it's on fire and the butterflies certainly haven't left my stomach, but I know I want him. I know.

"That's so cute.." Ted purrs lowly and pulls me back into the passionate kiss, keeping up the pace from before. I felt his thumbs caressing my waist through the light fabric of my nightgown as I hungrily latch onto his blush toned lips, just like I desired to in his truck. He's mine. He's mine I say to myself as I pull him onto the bed with me. It's the only coherent thing running through my mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We waste no time. Ted and I move up a bit in the bed, our lips staying locked together until my head finally hits the pillow. His glasses eventually fall off his face and gently lands on mine. "Fuck.." Ted mutters with a light chuckle, taking his glasses and placing them on my nightstand. I giggle as he returns to the arousing kiss, a muffled moan escaping him. My cheeks and hands feel warm and the only sounds between us are our heavy breathing and our longing kiss. My arms once again wrap around Ted's neck when I feel him press his body against me once more, lightly picking at the back of his blue shirt.

"Patience, princess.." Ted whispers against my lips, planting one last deep kiss on my lips before beginning to travel little kisses to my neck. I take in a sharp breath, stiffening up once I feel his lips on my sensitive neck. "I've been patient enough. Take it off.." I grunt at him, starting to pull his shirt up a little with my nails. He lets out a mocking chuckle and pulls away so he can remove his shirt, simply throwing it somewhere in the room before returning to me, picking apart the buttons of my nightgown. I notice the silver chain he has around his neck, running my hands along anywhere I can touch him. I don't have the energy to feel embarrassed about my body, I feel like I'm burning up anyways, everywhere feels so hot, and the only thing that can cool it down is his touch. His touch. His touch...

He gets my nightgown off of me and throws it somewhere before latching back onto my neck. A more audible moan leaves me, but I quickly cover my mouth, quietly reminding myself that we're not alone in this house. The reminder doesn't last when I feel his hand sneak its way into my pajama shorts, sliding a finger in between my sensitive folds. I gasp and instinctively grab his arm, and I feel him grin against me. He's moving through this so fast, yet I have no real desire to stop him. "E-Easy.." I moan quietly, my whole body stiffening up when his thumb finds my clit. A jolt of pleasure surges through my thighs, I can feel my bud and my entrance reacting to his touch, pulsing, wanting, urging for it. Somehow, somehow, he knows exactly where to touch me.

"You were aaalll talk..." Ted purrs against my skin, moving up from my neck to look me in the eyes once more. He slides his hand away from my core to tug my pajama shorts down enough to be able to touch me freely. His fingers once again move between my folds, watching my physical reactions with amusement. "God, I've wanted to shut you up. You talk too fuckin' much." As he purrs at me, two of his fingers find my entrance and slowly slide into me, a gasp releasing from me. I playfully glare at him and bring my hand up to grab the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his dark locks before pulling him into a deep, sloppy kiss. I hadn't felt how wet he had really made me until now, his fingers effortlessly pumping inside of me. Everything he did to me felt so good and the only thing I could do was let him. I managed to slide my free hand down to feel him from over his sweatpants, and was he good and hard for me. I feel him groan in the kiss, and I snicker at him. I couldn't wait to take him. I knew it'd be even harder to control my voice once he was inside me. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad.

Ted's fingers leave my entrance and I feel him leave my essence along my thighs so he can hold himself up with both arms, breaking the kiss to once again guide his lips down to my neck, only this time he keeps moving. I feel my face getting hotter, instinctively bringing a hand up to touch my cheek and run my fingers through my hair. I'm a hot mess, I feel Ted's lips move further and further down my body, lapping up my breasts like he's worshipping me. "You needed this as much as I did, eh?" I manage to speak up in a soft tone, smiling ear to ear when I feel him spread my legs.

"I don't need your fuckin' commentary.." Ted growls in between my breasts, making a quiet giggle escape me.

"You can't shut me up, Theo."

"Yeah? You think thats what I'm doin'?" Ted's kisses reach my lower stomach before he readjusts himself to lift my legs up to sort of sit around his shoulders, his head now perfectly between my legs. When his lips and his tongue meet my inner thighs I feel my belly flutter with nerves and excitement, bringing one hand up to lightly bite my knuckle while the other rests on my lower belly.

He nibbles at my inner thighs before finally moving further in, allowing his tongue to slide in between my sensitive folds, my budding clit immediately reacting when the tip of his warm tongue glides along it. I reel my head back and moan out as he takes full control of my body from my core, taking in all of my alluring essence in his mouth. I feel like my body is being sucked out of my soul, like he's secretly been an incubus all this time, a master of a woman's body. He's commanding me to feel bouts of pleasure I've never experienced with a man before and I can feel my core aching for more and more. My hand reaches down further to grip his tall dark hair, a pleasurable laugh escaping me as he laps me up like a desperate hound aching for scraps. I can hear him moaning between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me into him more. Ted's tongue dances inside me, subtly slipping along my entrance to taste my every desire more and more. I can feel his pointy chin lower down, his stubble against my folds, his lips massaging at my own, he just doesn't stop. His tongue finds my now throbbing clit over and over and over, back and forth, back and forth. My body is left, wanting, begging, pleading, praying for release until it finally pours out.

"Ted! Ted!! Oh my fucking god--Yes, Yes! Yes like that! I--"

It starts at my clit and spreads all across my body, Ted having to hold my thighs to keep me balanced. I struggle to hold in the never-ending waterfall of moans pouring out of me, so I slap my hand over mouth and moan into it as much as my body will allow. I'm absolutely drunk with pleasure and it feels like it could last for infinity. I stretch out my ankles and my hands as my orgasm crashes over my entire body, the overwhelming pleasure surging up into my brain, making me roll my eyes back and close them. I remove my hand from my mouth when I start to come down from its peak, letting him hear my desperate whimpers as the high of my orgasm starts to fade, leaving my clit feeling warm and sore. I've been aching for this all week, and finally, finally, I'm feeling all of this tension start to come undone. That might've been the most intense orgasm I've ever been given, and yet, he wasn't done with me.

I hear Ted moan to himself, watching with tired eyes as he wipes his mouth with his free hand. I got a glimpse at how wet I truly was, but I didn't even need it, I could feel it, especially when he fully pulled away from my thighs and the light air hit them, my essence had spread nearly everywhere after how he ate me out, and I loved it. "I can't get enough of you.." Ted purred, coming face to face with me once more so he could pull me into a hungry kiss. Even despite such a strong surge of pleasure, I can feel my body pleading for more, my core aching for Ted to finish what he started. It was agonizing not having him inside me yet. I was ready now more than ever. I was so desperate, I'd do anything he wanted me to just to feel him. I felt like I was under a spell, but truthfully, it was just from good fucking head.

"Please. Please.." I beg to him in the kiss, cupping his face with a needy moan escaping me when he breaks from the kiss to work at removing his sweatpants. "See? Couldn't shut you up even if I wanted to.." Ted grins devishly at me, leaning down to kiss and nibble at my jaw. A satisfied smile spreads along my face, leaning my head back and closing my eyes to continue enjoying his intimate touch.

"You're the one doing all the talking.." I moan softly

"You're the one makin' all the fuckin' noise." Ted grunts when he finally gets his sweatpants off, pulling back for a moment to toss them aside before returning to my body. "As much as I like hearing you flap your fuckin' lips all day..." Ted pulls me in closer by my legs, a surprised but excited gasp leaving me, causing me to briefly look down. My god, his size is perfect for me. All of that is going to fit so good inside me, I shudder out a breath and lock eyes with Ted once more. "...I like making you squirm even more." Ted towers his body over mine, holding himself up with one arm while holding my hips with the other.

I feel my entrance aching for him to fill it, a blushing mess when I feel him glide his shaft along my soaking wet folds, the tip brushing along my already sensitive bud from earlier. I moan out in surprise, closing my eyes for a moment and giggling. "Yeah? I bet.." I purr, opening my eyes to gaze at Ted once more, gliding my tongue along my upper lips. "You better not be all--" I close my eyes and moan suddenly when I feel his length push into my entrance, feeling every curve and edge shape around my tight walls like his cock was made for me; actually made for me.

When I feel he's completely in, there's a moment where neither of us move or say anything. I open my eyes and see him looking at me, face to face once more. I lock eyes with his earthy orbs, the only noise between us being the sounds of our desperate panting. It's the first and only moment of the night where we slip past our passionate embrace to truly process what's about to change between us. We certainly can't go back now. That timer hit zero nearly a good hour ago. This is what we are now.

Ted gives me a tired smile to reassure me that he wants this, a quiet chuckle leaving me in response before I feel him start to move his hips. His pace is gentle at first, not too slow, really taking in how wet I've become because of him. Every moment our gazes would lock, every moment I could feel his breath on me, every flirtatious insult, every comment, every glance; it all felt like it was leading up to this. Every thrust felt like the pleasurable unwrapping of all of this tension I've been burdened with. My core was sending pleasing signals up my body and down my legs every time his hips rubbed against mine, thanking me for finally letting this man take me. My god, have I been waiting for him to take me, aching for it. It's all I can think about now. The pleasure, the pleasure.

I hear my name in a whisper from Ted's gravely tone, feeling Ted adjust his body to be sitting up more, one of his hands nearly gripping my shoulder with the other on my hip, pulling me into his increasingly rougher thrusts. My breasts jolt and bounce with every rock of the bed, hearing it lightly squeak beneath us as his length pumps inside me. I can feel my thighs shivering with excitement, my lower belly tingling for more. My judgement is beginning to be clouded by just how nicely he's fucking me, having a troubling time keeping my voice down with every pulse of satisfaction through me.

"Ohh, Theo.." I let out a girlish moan, bending my legs up a little more to adjust the angle to my liking, feeling him pick up his pace in response. He moved both hands to my hips so he can really work himself into me, grinding his hips against mine out of desperation. The veins of his throbbing shaft are massaging me so nicely, I know my essence is practically drenching it. My arousal is spreading further and further through my veins, a particular curved thrust from Ted causing my body to jolt with pleasure.

"Oh my god--Ted, Yes! Ted! Yes! Yes! Whatever you just did, I--I need that, I need it, I need it.." All of my thoughts and feelings have been taken over by Ted's body, begs and pleads beginning to pour out of me at such an alarming rate, yet I can't stop myself. I can't shut myself up. Ted is taking every last coherent thought with every deep thrust, and I just have to take it. He gets to use me for as long as he wants, and I have to take it. I want to take it.

Ted forces my legs upwards more until my knees are nearly touching my breasts, his own sighs and groans of pleasure mixing in with my own. He hides his face in my neck and really begins to put his all into me, the sound of his hips smacking into mine getting louder with every swift pump of his cock. I wrap my arms and legs around his body the best I can, finally able to work my fingers through his dark hair as I cry out for him. I can't control myself. All I feel is his length pumping inside me, his cold chain against my chest, his stubble scratching my cheek, his voice purring and moaning in my ear like a desperate animal in heat, finally satisfying his carnal desires. My walls tighten around him, my sensitive bud throbs for him, my thighs are shivering, my body is aching, all for him. It's all for him.

"Theo! Theo! Right there, right there, right there right there!" Is nearly all I can whimper out for him, practically crying out when I feel my body ready itself for release. I'm gripping and pulling at his hair with one hand and gripping his bare back with the other, both of my legs locked around him, trapping his cock inside me. His hips slam against mine over and over and over, I can't comprehend anything except the pleasure. Ted. Ted. Teddy...

Eventually it's all too much for my mind to comprehend. I don't even have the energy to let him know I'm cumming, I just cry out for him to not stop fucking me. He pulls away from my neck to connect our foreheads when I pull at his hair roughly. I don't care if anyone hears us. Let them hear. All that's in focus is the second and finale orgasm Ted allows my body to reach for the night, elevated when I feel his warm seed flow into me. My whole body shudders and I'm able to let out a few shaky moans, his last desperate thrusts to empty himself deep inside me causing my eyes to once again roll back briefly, fully and completely satisfied by him.

I don't feel Ted pull out right away. With my eyes closed, I feel the bed stop moving first All of my senses start slowly returning. I feel our warm, sticky bodies pressed against one another, I feel our hot breathes mixing as we try to steady our heavy panting, I feel a cold wetness spread along my folds and up my inner thighs, but most of all, I just feel...relieved.

I open my eyes to see Ted's tired gaze, watching as he comes down from the same high. That's when he finally decided to pull out, a quiet moan leaving us both. My sense of awareness and judgement are the last thing to return to me and I briefly wonder just how loud we both may have been, but any worries melt away when Ted's lips meet mine once again. He kisses me with passion and care, letting out a pleased hum in the kiss before pulling away to move off of me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I unwrap my arms and legs from his body so he can lay down beside me, both of us just staring up at the ceiling while continuing to try and catch our breath. If this were some passionate seen in a TV show or movie, this is where the next scene would cut to: the aftermath. I'm a mess, he's a mess, and yet we're both too tired to care. I had nothing to worry about in regards to how Ted finished, I was already on birth control, he knew this. I turn my head to look at him and blush to myself, turning my body a little in his direction. He looks at me and gives me a weak but reassuring smile, not hesitating to pull me into his arms. I was glad that he was willing to stay and hold me, partially because my side of the bed was now drenched and damp, but also because I wanted him here. I wanted him to stay. He manages to get the light comforter over our bodies to keep them warm, wrapping his arms around me for the night.

Not a word was spoken, nothing more needed to be said.

We both quietly agreed to fall asleep together and discuss everything the morning.

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 ||

[mylifesjustacarousel]

bloodsucker

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: you’re keeping a big secret, but you didn’t think that anyone would be able to figure it out. especially hook.

type: kinda angsty

CW: none

WC: 800+

requests are open! <3

It was a cloudy day outside, your favorite kind of day. You could actually sit outside and study instead of being cooped up in your room with the windows closed. There were many kinds of people at Merlin Academy; Sea witches, dwarves… but you were the only vampire. At least the only one that you knew of. Nobody else knew. You didn’t know how they, or how the school, would react. So, for your safety, you kept it a secret…

… or you thought you were keeping it a secret.

Hook was sat across the courtyard, quietly watching you. Your almost lifeless skin, your dark clothing, the way you seemed much more lively at night. Hook was not the brightest person alive, anyone could tell you that. But, there was something off about you that nobody could put a finger on. Until him.

There was absolutely no way that you were a vampire, though. There couldn’t be… could there be?

You looked up, noticing the brunette boy staring at you. Grimacing, you closed your book and got up, going over to him. “You know it’s considered to creepy to just stare at people, right? What’s your deal, Hook?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest.

“Easy, darling. Can’t a pirate just sit and admire the scenery?” he smirked, winking at you. He couldn’t deny that he found you intriguing. Your dark aesthetic and even darker attitude had him wanting more. But, he was going to have fun with it.

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away from him. He quickly got up and grabbed your hand. It was ice cold. Your skin turned impossibly even more pale as you ripped your hand away from his grasp, “Don’t touch me!”

Putting his hands up, he backed away a few steps. “You’ve got it, lass.”

You quickly stomped away, collecting your books from the ground and shoveling them into your bag before walking off. You were screwed.

“This is gonna be fun.”

It was a few days later, and you were avoiding Hook like the plague. There was no way he knew, right? He couldn’t even figure out how to make a simple potion. You were wandering the forest late at night, something you did when you had a lot on your mind. If you were caught, there’s no telling what could happen to you. You worked too hard to get to where you were.

You leaned up against a tree, taking in the scenery in front of you. It was quiet. Peaceful. You never realize how much you appreciate silence until you’re stuck at a school with hundreds of other kids. But, you loved it. It was your one chance for a sense of normalcy in your life, seeing that your life had been so far, far from normal.

Your family was one of the only vampire families left, the rest had been wiped out centuries ago. Vampires weren’t thought too fondly of, everyone thought that they would suck all of their blood out. But, those stories were nothing but folk tales perpetuated by the same people who sought to kill the vampires. You were kept in hiding for a lot of your life, but your parents wanted to give you a chance at a normal life. So, you were sent off to Merlin Academy.

“Hello there, lass,” a voice called out from behind you.

So much for peace and quiet, you thought.

You sighed, knowing exactly who it was. You turned around, “Hello, James. You know, you just can’t seem to take a hint, can you?”

“What fun would that be?” he asked, resting on the tree beside you so you were face to face. He was so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

“You need to go. Like, right now.”

He pouted, his eyes looking you up and down. “Why? Are you going to, I don’t know… suck my blood out? Maybe try to kill me? Is that why, darling?”

Your jaw dropped, “How did y-”

“How did I know? You didn’t keep it very well hidden, dear. So, what do we do about this?” he teased.

Grabbing his shoulders, you pushed his back up against the tree, getting in his face. “We? We are doing nothing about this. You are going to act like you don’t know anything, or else I will suck your blood out. You got it, Hook?”

His face turned red, a red darker than the jacket that he was wearing. “I don’t know, m’lady. It seems like a pretty big favor to be asking of me.”

You moved closer to him, the tips of your noses pressing together. “I need you to cooperate with me. I am literally begging.” He raised a brow, “Begging? I like the sound of that.”

You shoved him away, groaning. “You’re disgusting, James… But, please, just keep this a secret. I can’t ruin my chances here.”

Hook realized how serious you were being and let up a bit. “Alright, alright, darling. This little secret will stay between us.”

“Promise?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I promise, my little bloodsucker.”

“I absolutely hate you, Hook.”

a/n: this was such an interesting request, i thoroughly enjoyed writing it. it gave very much zombies/monster high vibes. i hope you enjoy it! mwah mwah mwah!

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Movin’ On Up

Plot: Y/n receives some surprise visitors on moving day, and Richmond suffers a shocking blow to their lineup.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: I really don’t know how I’m managing to crank these out so fast. Maybe shorter chapters? Anyway, this one was fun. We’re getting into the meat of the story, so hold onto your butts, and enjoy!!

(Forgive any typos, I wrote the bulk of this one at midnight 🌙)

——————

If there was a magical force at play in Richmond, it had made Y/n its latest target.

Not only had she found the perfect apartment, she’d toured it, signed the lease and booked movers in the same week. In all her post-university years, she’d never seen real estate move quicker.

Y/n wandered the flat, directing the men and whatever piece of furniture they were holding to its corresponding room.

A knock sounded from the stairs.

“Oh, the dresser can go to-“ Y/n spun around to help guide the mover she’d just seen downstairs, only to find the last person she expected.

“Hey, there, neighbor,” Ted greeted, standing at the top of the steps.

Y/n quickly plastered on her Monday-Friday grin, “Ted. What are you…how did you…?”

“Well, you said you were movin’ into your new place this weekend,” Ted hopped a step inside the apartment to let one of the movers pass by, “Took a guess that the van that came through this morning was probably yours.”

Y/n tried to laugh off the intrusion. The safety of living thirty minutes away was long gone…

“Brought you a little ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift,” Ted held up a little pink box and set it on Y/n’s kitchen counter. It was the same one that he dropped on Rebecca’s desk each morning.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied while pointing one of the movers in the direction of her bedroom.

Ted stuck his hands in his pockets and took a look around the living room. He let out a whistle, “I wish you’d’ve told us you were movin’ in sooner. Coaches and the boys coulda saved you some money, get you settled ourselves.”

That was exactly why she hadn’t told anyone she was moving until the day before. She knew Ted would have assembled the Greyhounds and she would have had 15+ footballers funneling in and out of her apartment, invading the little bubble she had left.

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna inconvenience you guys,” Y/n replied, watching Ted as he maneuvered around the boxes, “Especially with the match tomorrow.”

Ted made a raspberry, “Pish posh, Oshkosh. Woulda been happy to help. Hey,” Ted swirled a finger toward the ceiling, “This place got A/C?”

Y/n nodded.

“Whew,” Ted exhaled, “I gotta tell you, biggest surprise comin’ over here.”

“You get used to it,” Y/n replied, a deep double meaning to her words.

“What about you? What was the biggest shock for you, movin’ here?”

Y/n thought back to when she was eighteen, fresh out of high school and starting a brand new life in another country. Even if it had only been a few years, it felt like a decade ago.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “Probably the difference in English. Chips versus fries, that sort of thing.”

“Man, I still slip up,” Ted said, “Took me months to get the football lingo down.”

“I still call the pitch a field sometimes,” Y/n admitted, settling on one of her barstools.

“Well, now I don’t feel so bad,” Ted chuckled as he came to sit across from Y/n, “Hey, what’s the thing you miss most from home? Just a little thing, y’know?”

Y/n sighed, thinking about the region-specific foods she couldn’t find in the international section of the market or the channels missing from her television. Truth be told, there wasn’t anything she missed so much it could be considered missing.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s been so long since I’ve been home.”

“When was the last time you went back?” Ted asked.

“Uh…” Y/n traced back the list of holidays, “My sister’s birthday…two years ago?”

Ted whistled once more, “That’s a long time. Bet your folks miss you.”

On cue, Y/n’s muscles tensed. Her smile returned to conceal her discomfort. “My sister visits,” she said, “Every year.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” Ted cooed, “For me, it’s gotta be good barbecue. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they do food dang well over here, but I miss a good southern BBQ, y’know?”

“I actually do,” Y/n admitted with a small laugh, “4th of July’s always weird.”

Ted smacked a hand against the counter. “Thank you,” he said loudly, “Last year, we had a game. Felt like Beard and I were betrayin’ our ancestors or somethin’.”

Y/n chuckled, Ted struck her as someone who went all out for Independence Day.

“Hey, truth time,” Ted continued, the humor draining from his face, “Yea or nay on tea?”

Y/n shrugged, “I like it.”

“Dang it,” Ted bobbed his head, “Beard, you…us ex-pats keep droppin’ like flies.”

“It takes some adjusting, I’ll admit that,” Y/n raised a finger, “Not exactly a frappachino.”

“Mm-mm,” Ted shook his head, “I have tried and tried with that tree piss. Warmth ain’t goin’ anywhere north on that one.”

Y/n snorted a little, imagining what that might look like, Ted sipping on earl grey.

One of the movers asked Y/n where she wanted a bookcase and she gave him directions. For once, Ted sensed the moment.

“Well, I’ll get outta your hair,” he held up his hands and hopped off the barstool, “But I’m just down the street so you ever need anything, don’t be a stranger.”

“Good to know,” Y/n watched Ted walk away, “Ted?”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, “Hmm?”

While Ted was still a lot, after all her years spent as the foreigner, it was almost…nice to talk to someone from home. Someone she didn’t need to explain her references to or rearrange her vocabulary for.

“Thank you,” Y/n said, quickly concealing the truth of her gratitude, “For the biscuits.”

“Anytime,” Ted saluted before heading on his way.

Y/n let out a loud sigh once she was sure he was gone. She wandered back over to the counter and opened the pink box, finding the signature biscuits Rebecca raved about. Out of curiosity, she broke off a bite and ate it.

“Shit,” she mumbled, they were better than anything she’d ever found in any of London’s cafés.

Despite his line-crossing, Ted was good-natured. He had a heart of gold and tried to make sure everyone he encountered felt like they had one too. Y/n could call it tolerance or simply learning to deal with him, but deep down, Ted’s efforts were starting to poke and prod a little harder at her walls.

—————————

That evening, after the movers had finished and Y/n had gotten the basics unpacked, she started on the non-essentials. She was stacking dishes when the doorbell rang.

Y/n was perturbed as she descended her stairs, there were exactly three people who had her new address, the absolute minimum. Lisa, who handled payroll at the club, Ted, who’d stumbled upon her apartment by sheer luck, and her sister.

Looking through the peephole, Y/n sighed. She’d forgotten there was a fourth on the list.

Jamie smiled smugly as Y/n opened the door, “You went with mine.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I didn’t ‘go with yours.’ I was the one who found it, you just deemed it worthy.”

“And I was right,” Jamie stuck his neck out and lifted off his heels.

She’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing, but Jamie was completely right. The night of the West Ham match, the two of them had stayed at the Crown and Anchor till Mae kicked them out, pouring over each apartment until they’d eliminated 75% of the stack. The one Y/n had settled on was also the one that Jamie had decided was the best.

Jamie held up a plastic takeaway bag, “Come bearin’ sustenance.”

Not only was Y/n tired, she didn’t want to entertain anybody else from work. But, starving as she was, she was in no position to turn down free food.

“Entry permitted,” she snatched the bag from him, “Barely.”

Jamie took an exaggerated step over the seal and passed Y/n. They’d gotten to know each other better over the last few weeks, Jamie stopping Y/n anytime he saw her to ask about the apartment tours she was taking on the weekends. They’d gotten many laughs out of the stories of Y/n going against Jamie’s advice and visiting the properties that did indeed turn out to be crap.

In another world, they’d almost consider each other friends.

Upstairs, Jamie swung his arms as he took in the living room, “Not bad.”

“‘Not bad?’” Y/n turned around from where she stood in the adjoining kitchen, “You pick this place out and then it’s just ‘not bad?’”

Jamie cackled, spinning on his heel and pointing a finger at Y/n. “That’s an admission.”

Y/n internally cringed, her sharp edge was dulled by exhaustion. She could usually keep up with Jamie. “If you want any of this,” she unpacked the styrofoam container of kebabs, “You’ll stay on my good side.”

“Can’t have any,” Jamie replied, coming to lean on the bar, “Diet, ‘member?”

Y/n shook her head, popping a stray piece of chicken into her mouth. “I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

“You know why,” Jamie crossed his arms on the counter, “Gotta get back to being the best.”

“Yeah, but is being better than Zava worth missing out on things like food and sleep?” Y/n asked. She could appreciate Jamie’s drive, but this dedication seemed overboard.

“It’ll be worth it,” Jamie stated.

Y/n decided to play the asshole, sliding across the kitchen to wave the kebab box under Jamie’s nose. She watched his willpower waver ever so fleetingly.

Jamie glared up at her, “You’re evil.”

Y/n snickered as she went back to her spot, stealing a bite before going back to unpacking. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Roy?”

“Night before a match, I’m off,” Jamie swung around the bar to the kitchen.

“So shouldn’t you be resting?” Y/n asked as she un-bubble wrapped a stack of plates.

“I will,” Jamie shrugged, bending over to peel the tape off a box.

Y/n glanced over, watching as Jamie began to unpack various glasses. He didn’t offer, he didn’t ask, just went about it as if it were his business. It was slightly intrusive…and also kind.

Jamie Tartt, Y/n had come to learn, was nothing and everything like what she’d thought he’d be. He had more depth than he let onto and he’d shown a side of it by trying to help her find a place. And though she knew the Zava battle was a personal thing for him, she also knew how much Jamie cared about his team. He wanted to be at his best for them just as much as he did for himself.

Unlike Keeley, who announced her efforts to get Y/n to crack at every turn, or Ted, who went overboard, Jamie hadn’t tried to enter into Y/n’s life. He had simply occurred.

“Do you get nervous?” Y/n asked out of pure curiosity, “Before games?”

“Not really. I mean,” Jamie answered, lining up coffee mugs in a cupboard, “Sometimes. Depends.”

Y/n stretched on her toes to put away china she never used, “On?”

“I dunno,” Jamie replied, a particular trigger or two popping up, “Lots of things.”

“So what about tomorrow?” Y/n continued.

Any slip Jamie’s mind had made was caught with quick footing. “Nah,” he said confidently, “Nah, we got that.”

“Well, good,” Y/n exhaled, setting the empty box on the floor, “It’d be nice to get a win. And hey, if it doesn’t work out and you’re forced to retire after this season, I’m sure the reality tv world is still thriving with opportunities.”

Jamie managed to grimace while smiling, “How the fuck did you find out about that?”

“You thought the PR department wouldn’t know about that?” Y/n strode past him to get another box, “I also live in England.”

“You at least vote for me?” Jamie asked, a playful lilt to his tone.

Y/n hoisted another box of kitchenware into her arms and balanced it on her knee. “Yep, you caught me,” she sarcastically grunted, “I have a weakness for crap tv featuring mediocre footballers.”

Jamie set down the mug in his hand with a particular harshness. Mediocre footballer. “Now, hang on-“ he began.

“Less talking, more working,” Y/n cut him off, she stopped to check out the cupboard he was finishing. “That’s also not where they go.”

“What?”

“The mugs,” Y/n gestured to where her coffee maker was, “Disrupts the flow if they’re all the way over there.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, only playful annoyance accompanying. “God forbid we disturb the flow,” he lamented, grabbing a mug in each hand and heading to the correct cabinet.

They unpacked in comfortable silence a minute more before Y/n decided it didn’t matter if Jamie wasn’t nervous about the match. They needed all the encouragement they could get.

“It’ll happen tomorrow,” she said, referring to their recent losses.

Regardless of whether he was hiding any feelings or if they’d pop out the moment he stepped on the pitch, Jamie stopped what he was doing to absorb the kind words. Y/n was a recent addition to his life, certainly an unexpected one, but she felt…safe. Like even if they didn’t know anything about each other past their mutual taste in real estate, he didn’t have to act so much around her.

“Thanks,” he replied, making effort to meet her eyes.

Y/n gave a small smile, “It will.”

—————————

It didn’t.

Over the next month, Richmond’s lack of luck turned to a 7-game losing streak. Some weeks were better than others, but they all ended the same way: with the Greyhounds leaving the pitch with their heads hanging in defeat.

Luckily, Y/n was kept occupied on the eighth week. Jack Danvers was coming into the office for a meeting and Keeley had asked Y/n to be there as well.

“You’re all business-y,” she’d said, “You know way more than I do, plus, Jack really likes you.”

Y/n sat on one side of Jack, with Barbara on the other, as she and Keeley recounted the conversation and clash of opinions they’d had recently.

“I completely understand where Barbara’s coming from,” Keeley said, keeping a kind tone as she turned to her CFO, “But as I was explaining to you, I’m worried that by adding more clients that could mean less attention paid to the wonderful people we already represent.”

“And then,” Barbara chuckled, though she lacked any humor, “I reminded Keeley, as you’ve said so many times, Jack, that if it does get to the point where we feel we’re spreading ourselves thinly, then we’ll hire more people,” she grinned politely at Keeley, “It’s called ‘growth.’”

Y/n and Keeley glanced over at one another fleetingly, the tension was so poorly concealed, it was getting uncomfortable.

“I’m sure you can see that as well, Y/n,” Barbara gestured towards Y/n.

“Actually, Keeley’s absolutely right, in my opinion,” Y/n answered, spotting her boss a smile, “There’s big firms, there’s small firms. Both have their allure, but I think our personability is the biggest thing we have going for us.”

“Oh,” Barbara’s grin grew scarier, “Wonderful, wonderful…”

Jack looked sweetly towards Barbara, “Okay. Let me weight in here.

“Oh, please,” Barbara obliged.

“I agree with Keeley,” Jack finished.

“Oh, that’s great,” Barbara beamed.

“Being a small boutique firm is exactly what sets you apart, like Y/n said,” Jack went on, “You want a restaurant to look successful, you take out half the tables and you have a line out the door. I say, let’s go for it.”

Keeley and Jack shared a smile.

“No, that’s wonderful. Yeah,” Barbara forced out as she rose, “And instead of salaries, we can give away the tables we threw out.”

“Don’t worry, Barbara,” Jack called, “It’ll be great.”

Barbara mumbled some dishonest agreement as she left the room, leaving it open on her way out.

Jack turned to Keeley and Y/n, “Do you ever think sunshine gets jealous of her?”

The women shared a laugh just before a knock at the door revealed Shandy. “Knock, knock.”

“Hi, babe,” Keeley greeted her friend.

“Now that your little cool girls meeting’s done,” Shandy leaned on the empty chair, very visibly unhappy, “Just wanted to share the exciting news that I’ve started an app.”

“Oh,” Keeley replied.

“It’s like Bantr, but it’s better and cooler,” Shandy’s tone was even and icy, “And actually cares about helping people have sex with celebrities.”

Y/n kept her head down, sharing an awkward glance with Jack. This was strictly Keeley’s business to handle.

“What? Shandy-“ Keeley began.

“It’s called ‘Star Fuckr,’” she announced before looking to Jack, “And yeah, we are looking for investors.”

When Jack didn’t offer to write a multi-zero check right then and there, Shandy stood tall, shot daggers at Keeley and strutted her way out of the room.

“I take it she’s still angry about the whole Bantr thing?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yes,” Keeley nodded, “Shandy does not have a good relationship with rejection, or her ex, or with her workplace, or most nouns, really.”

“‘You are so passionate, but I have to let you go,” Jack said, pulling Y/n and Keeley’s attention, “‘I’m sorry, but I know someone as brilliant as you will land on their feet.”

Keeley struggled momentarily, “What did I do?”

“No, no, no, no,” Jack reached out across the desk, “Keeley, sorry. That’s what you say when you fire Shandy.”

Y/n and Keeley both exhaled forcefully, laughing after.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Y/n’s hand was pressed to her chest, “I just saw my lease flash before my eyes.”

“It’s called a compliment sandwich,” Jack explained, “You give someone bad news, but to soften the blow, you slap it between two delicious slices of compliments.”

Keeley nodded, “But I can’t fire Shandy. She’ll hate me. And she really thinks she’s killing it.”

“I am sure she does,” Jack exhaled, “The worst people often think they’re the best. My dad calls it ‘talent dysmorphia.’”

Keeley laughed while Y/n stayed silent, knowing what was coming next.

“What do you think?” Keeley turned to her hardest worker, “Do you think it’s the right decision?”

Y/n looked down at her notebook, taking a deep breath to see if it would help the force of what she wanted to say dissipate. Jack was waiting on her too, and she couldn’t lie to her or Keeley.

“I think…” she started slow before shutting her eyes and letting it fly, “Keeley, if you don’t fire her, she will literally run the company into the ground and strut over its mangled corpse.”

When she opened her eyes, Jack and Keeley were leant back an inch or two as if to avoid the splash of her opinion. Before she could try and explain it more eloquently, the two women started laughing.

“No, no,” Jack chuckled, “Don’t hold back.”

Y/n exhaled with a small smile, turning to Keeley, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Keeley reached a hand over and poked the back of Y/n’s, “That’s why you’re my best. You don’t hold back.”

It was ironic, they both knew, considering how withdrawn Y/n kept herself. But with Keeley, it seemed to be a bit of a joke between the two of them.

“You two wanna get some lunch?” Jack asked when the giggles had died down, “My meeting just got pushed.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Keeley smiled, “Yeah, my stomach started grumbling when you said ‘compliment sandwich.’”

“You guys enjoy,” Y/n rose with them and collected her purse, “I’ve gotta get back to the office.”

“Oh,” Keeley reached back over her desk and handed Y/n a sheet of paper, “Give this to Zava. A couple more people called requesting interviews.”

Y/n glanced over the list she’d originally made, it seemed like the Zava craze still hadn’t died down. In fact, the more Richmond lost, the more people wanted to hear what he had to say. “Are we sure it’s a good idea to do so many interviews on a seven-game streak?”

“That’s the thing,” Keeley grabbed her coat, “The press eat up whatever Zava says. Can’t get enough.”

Quirking an eyebrow in understanding, Y/n tucked the list in her book and tried to imagine the ridiculous headlines that would be tied to Richmond this week.

—————————

Returning to the office after having taken lunch by herself, Y/n rapped two knuckles on the open locker room door. She still knew to wait for the all-clear.

“Everybody decent?”

A chorus of various ‘yeses’ were her key in.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Here’s your interview schedule. The press is really eager this weekend in particular. Let me know if there’s any changes you want to make.”

Zava pressed a hand to his heart and touched Y/n’s arm with the other. “Thank you,” he said softly, before looking to his teammates, “Men.”

Taking hold of both her shoulders, Zava guided Y/n to stand in front of him. “Okay,” Y/n stuttered as she was stood in front of the entire team. Seated in the middle of the room with Isaac, Jamie matched her confused gaze.

“This is what your hearts should be seeking,” Zava began to wax his odd form of poetry, “Brains, talent, warmth-“

Y/n’s brow creased, what the fuck had she walked into?

“Outer beauty will fade,” he continued, “But a smudge like this,” Zava smiled down on Y/n, “It will last forever.”

Zava patted her shoulders once more before throwing his towel over his shoulder and exiting the room. Not only was Y/n left with every Greyhound staring at her, contemplating Zava’s words, but with his schedule still clutched in her hand.

“Can someone make sure he gets this?” Y/n asked, failing to keep her tone even.

“Oh,” Dani raised his hand and climbed over Jamie’s leg to get to Y/n, “I will.”

Y/n willingly handed it off, “Thank you, Dani.” Not caring to spend another second in the room, she turned on her heel and left. She backtracked her steps quickly, “Is a smudge a good or a bad thing?”

Colin scrunched his face up, “It’s not…not…a good thing.”

Pressing a hand to her temple, Y/n decided she didn’t need to know any more about whatever conversation she’d interrupted and left the locker room.

—————————

The Man City match came about like every other one, but the air of anticipation heightened with each week. Would this be the day Richmond finally broke their streak? Or would they take another step towards double digits?

Not more than a second after Y/n had parked in the car lot, her phone rang with a call from Higgins.

“Hi,” she answered, “What’s going on?”

“Are you here yet?” Higgins asked, his tone nervous.

Y/n shut the door to her car, striding towards the back entrance to the stadium. “I just pulled in.”

“Could you pop into the coach’s office?”

“Yeah,” Y/n hung on the syllable suspiciously, turning in the other direction and swinging the door to the office building open. “Be right there.”

Y/n took long steps down the hall, passing by the locker room and heading straight for Ted’s office.

“Hey,” she said as she entered. Coach Beard, Roy and Higgins were standing around the desk clump, huddled together in conversation. Ted was already on the pitch. “What’s wrong?”

Beard kept his hand pressed to his mouth, Roy scowled at the air.

“It seems that Zava hasn’t showed up yet,” Higgins answered, “No one knows where he is.”

Y/n’s lips parted in confusion, “He’s just…not here?”

“Apparently so.”

Setting aside her annoyance, Y/n snapped into work mode and pulled her phone from her coat pocket. “Alright,” she scanned her contacts, “Let me get on the phone with some people. See if I can track him down.”

“He’d better fucking be here,” Roy growled at no one in particular.

Y/n raised her phone to her ear and pointed to Roy and Trent’s office, the former nodding for her to take it. She started at the top of the list of Zava’s personal team he’d given to her, Keeley and Higgins. Why a fecalist needed to be considered an emergency contact, Y/n would never understand, but she’d try whoever she had to…

Except the fecalist hadn’t heard from him.

Or his agent.

Or anyone Y/n dialed.

Defeatedly, and beginning to grow anxious, Y/n rejoined Beard, Roy and Higgins. “No one knows where the fuck he is,” she answered.

“Fuck,” Roy muttered.

“We got three minutes,” Beard shrugged, “What the fuck do we do?”

“Start Colin,” Roy resolved before looking to Y/n, “If you track that prick down, I don’t care, you fucking get on the pitch and tell us.”

Y/n gave a definitive nod, “You got it.”

With not so much a plan as a temporary fix, Roy and Beard left for the locker room while Y/n and Higgins headed for the hall.

“I told everyone to call me if they hear from him,” Y/n reported as they walked.

“What could be so important to make him miss a match?” Higgins pondered as they made their way to the stadium.

“I don’t know, but so long as his wife and kids are breathing and in possession of all their limbs,” Y/n practically growled, the cheering of packed house of Greyhounds growing louder with each step, “I’ll drag him onto the field myself.”

—————————

Rebecca took to the news…as expected.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?”

Y/n sat on one side of her boss, raising two fingers of the hand rubbing at her temple, in agreement.

“So just, no one’s heard from him?” Rebecca asked.

“No one,” Higgins grimaced.

“Well,” Rebecca let her palms fall against her legs, “There goes any chance of a win.”

“Let’s pray otherwise,” Y/n scanned her phone for the fifth time since she’d sat down. It was then that she realized there was a very vocal presence missing. “Where’s Keeley?”

Snapping out of her most likely violent thoughts, Rebecca unlocked her phone and held it up to Y/n. She found a text thread from Keeley including a message that said she’d be missing the game. Below it was a picture of a baby lamb standing on the table of the KJPR conference room, surrounded by its own feces.

Three months ago, Y/n might have had a question or twelve. Now, she simply nodded and sat back in her seat. “So Shandy’s gone,” she mumbled to herself.

The game went as well as the last ones had. Colin, though talented, couldn’t rival Zava’s skill. Jamie’s extra training wasn’t the solution either, and Man City walked away with a 4-0 win against the Greyhounds.

Rebecca retired to her office while Higgins and Y/n headed to touch base with the coaches. Trent met them along the way.

“No one heard from him?” Trent asked Y/n on their way.

“Not a single text or call during the game,” Y/n scrolled her phone as they walked, an Instagram notification popping up, “Shit.”

Higgins looked over, “What?”

Y/n stopped midway to their destination, hitting play on the video.

“Hello, how are you?” Zava spoke, dressed in casual wear, “I’m just - I have to share something with you, my friends. You are not my followers. You are my believers.”

Trent and Higgins came to stand beside Y/n, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“And so it— I have to tell you,” the man paused, “Zava has played his last match. I will now dedicate all of my time and all of my energy to my family and my avocado farm.”

The rest of whatever utter nonsense Zava had to spew, Y/n didn’t listen. She was infuriated, partially because of his actions, and partially because they’d all allowed themselves to think it was ever a good idea to hire him. He’d fed the Greyhounds to the wolves with no regret and it affected all of AFC Richmond.

When the video ended, Trent, Y/n and Higgins shared a hopeless look.

“We’ve got to tell the boys,” Higgins finally spoke, shrugging slightly.

The three of them made their way down the rest of the hall where the locker room door hung open. The scene inside was dismal, each of the men sat on the benches with their heads hung.

“Hey, guys,” Higgins greeted in an attempt to stay positive, “Good effort today.”

“Mr. Higgins,” Colin spoke up from his seat, “Is it true about Zava?”

Y/n cast her gaze downwards, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

“I’m afraid so,” Higgins replied.

Dani, cradling a towel to his face, began to weep into the fabric.

“Maybe some tissues for Dani,” Higgins muttered quietly.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Sam stood with his phone in hand, “Zava just posted a video.”

“Oh gosh,” Y/n grumbled under her breath as the Greyhounds circled up. Everyone except Jamie, who remained sat on the floor.

The boys watched the video, clinging to every last word at the start, and walking away with mumbled curses and shakes of the head. Any love or respect they had for their former teammate had been lost within thirty virtual seconds.

Y/n snuck a glance over at Jamie, expecting to see him struggle to keep his joy under wraps. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Even he was in shock.

“Gentlemen,” Ted said as he entered, quickly noticing Y/n’s presence, “And lady. That was a tough one tonight. Okay? Man City has still got our number. That’s all right. We gonna get another crack at ‘em later in the season. Uh-huh,” Ted looked to Beard, “Coach? No practice tomorrow.”

Beard nodded, “That’s right.”

“Okay,” Ted looked back to the team, “Well, I’ll see y’all on Monday.”

While the rest of the team began to talk amongst themselves, Sam looked up confusedly at Ted. “Hey, hey. Hey, Coach,” he called till the manager stopped in his tracks, “What about Zava?”

Ted glanced over at Zava’s multiple lockers, his empty chair.

“He quit the team,” Sam stated, as if it unheard news.

“I mean, technically he retired from the whole sport,” Ted clarified, “Which makes it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soulmates.”

The Greyhounds replied quietly in agreement.

“But look, look, look, look,” Ted redirected their focus back, “I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And you know what? I think it’s a good thing.”

The boys began to argue back in shock.

“Well, I do. Okay, look,” Ted spoke over his players, “Do I wanna win? Heck yeah. But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here. It’s not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”

“We could have tried,” a desperate Dani replied.

As the initial surprised faded, Y/n was beginning to match Ted’s opinion. Zava may have taken them for a temporary ride to the top, but this ultimate insult had shown that his heart was next in Richmond.

“Hey, guys. Guys, look,” Ted held up a hand, “We got a good thing going here. All right?” Ted’s eyes fell to his left, meeting Jamie’s, “We didn’t need Zava. Yeah?”

No one dared disturb the silence as the truth washed over each of them, including those who weren’t players.

“Yeah,” Ted said quietly, “All we need to win are the fellas in this room, right now,” he pointed to the men on the benches, “And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”

No sooner than when Ted had uttered the last two words did the bright yellow ‘Believe’ sign hanging over his head split itself down the middle. The Greyhounds jumped to their feet and cried out to various degrees. Even Y/n gasped a little, having learned of its significance.

“It’s a sign,” Bumbercatch called out.

“That’s it,” Colin held up his hands, accepting fate, “We’re doomed.”

As the locker room grew louder, Ted held up his hands and attempted to settle things down.

“Now hold on. Hey, knock it off, okay? We’re not doomed. No one is doomed. But Bumbercatch, yes, you’re right. It is a sign. I agree, Yeah.”

Ted turned around and removed both halves of his handiwork, folding them together. “In fact this, it’s just a sign.”

Without any hesitation, Ted tore the paper into four pieces, sending the locker room into chaos again.

“All right, guys, listen to me,” Ted commanded the room, “Belief doesn’t just happen ‘cause you hang something up on a wall. All right? It comes from in here,” he touched his chest, “You know? And up here,” he touched his temple before hitting his stomach, “Down here. Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of times, we end up getting in our own way.”

Y/n had yet to be present for any of Ted’s locker room speeches, as she had no reason to be. But immediately, like some spiritual presence moving through the room, she felt his words take hold of her.

“You know, crap like envy or fear, shame,” Ted continued, seemingly speaking to himself as well, “I don’t wanna mess around with that shit anymore. You know what I mean? Do you?”

He wasn’t speaking to her, but the question still penetrated Y/n all the same. She could feel a familiar ball of anxiety beginning to build in her stomach.

“No, me neither,” Ted shook his head after the boys answered back, “Hell no. Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don’t achieve.”

One blade inserted itself into Y/n’s gut, the omnipresent pain causing her heart rate to speed up.

“Or the belief that we all deserve to be loved,” Ted went on, “Whether we’ve been hurt or maybe we’ve hurt somebody else.”

A second blade settled in Y/n’s chest, this one causing the muscles to contract. She closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the rising emotions at bay.

“Or what about the belief of hope?” Ted asked, “Yeah? That’s what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better.”

Better, Y/n thought on the word. Better. Did things ever get better? Or did ‘bad’ just shapeshift into something else? Did it just wait along the road in the shadows, waiting for ‘better’ to come merrily on its way?

“Oh, man,” Ted sighed, “To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that’s fundamental to being alive. And look. Yo, hey. If you can do that,” he pointed to each player in the room, “If each of your can truly do that-“

Ted made one more rip down the sign’s tatters, walking to the center of the room. “Can’t nobody rip that apart.”

As the remains of the sign slapped against the metal bench, Y/n’s anxiety reached its brim. She placed a near shaking hand on Higgins’ shoulder to signal she was leaving before slipping out the back door. Blearily, she made it down the hall and outside, the fresh air of the parking lot slamming into her.

Once in the safety of her car, she allowed herself to weep.

Zava was the furthest thing from her mind. The incoming headlines, another loss on the scoreboard…all of it. She couldn’t have cared less if she’d tried. All she could feel was the crippling ache in her chest, the sting of her tears, the overwhelming feeling that came with being utterly alone. When a person became aware of just how much bigger the world around them was and how infinitely small they really were. The pain that could be remedied with a simple hug or a comforting word.

Y/n let out a silent sob, the familiar ache of all she wanted having taken a new form, once again. It would certainly kill her to allow herself her basic needs, to walk back in and hurt with the people inside. And it would break her all the same to continue hiding.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities

[lovemyromance]

Why the ever loving fuck would SJM talk on the Today show about wanting to explore rejected mates ....

And people (cough, GA/ELs) are vehemently swearing up and down it can ONLY be about Helion & Lady of Autumn??

You mean to say.. SJM wasted precious air time on a big talk show to discuss giving such an original and fresh storyline to two minor background characters who will not even get a book??

You mean to tell me... SJM wasted her time and breath in this interview discussing such a big idea for ... a character she HASNT EVEN NAMED YET??

SERIOUSLY? Seriously?!!

You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that again? Tell me with a straight face SJM was talking about rejected mates and that meant LoA & Helion ...

WHEN IT ISNT EVEN STATED THAT THEY ARE MATES???

Show it to me. Please. Send screenshot that shows LoA & Helion are mates. Because I'd really like to know how these people are coming up with this shit

There is currently only ONE unaccepted mating bond in the ACOTAR universe that we know of. One. UNO. Un. Ek. 1.

ONE unaccepted mating bond + SJM wanting to explore rejected mates =

LOA & HELION???

The math is not mathing, folks. And I hate to say it but this is peak clownery like come ON 🤡🤡 y'all gonna break your backs with all this reaching

[belokhvostikova]

Have you guys seen that clip of Deborah Ann Woll teaching John Bernthal Dungeons and Dragons? Because that's how I imagine Eddie Munson learning, thus teaching you...

As young as can be, sitting in the lonesome of his yard, father nowhere in sight for days to come. There's always a boy. A much older one. Probably in high school. Eddie likes to watch him. He's got crazy hair, tattoos of devilish designs, a cigarette in hand, beer in the other, with a band tee to brandish his look. The overall stamp of approve in Eddie Munson's book- not that a ten-year-old is cool enough to have one, though, if Eddie was, the teenager next door would get it. So slowly, over some weeks, Eddie gains the tendency to pick up the distress t-shirts at the thrift store, and perhaps explores the music he so frequently hears come from the trailer over. It's nothing like his mother's, but the thrashing screams help with the raging thoughts.

So, back to the yard. Summer had been abusive. And a town or two next over, Wayne was pummeling to race over to save his nephew from boiling alive in the tin rectangle that lost its AC and a father figure to fix it. Wayne had made Eddie swore over the phone to stay outside under the shade of a tree. It's probably when the older boy first sees him. Yeah, he's seen the quiet kid around the trailer park, but for once, he's seeing the quiet kid with an asshole of a father, sweltering in the darkness of a t-shirt that oddly resembles his own Iron Maiden one.

Water was the first of an offer. "Hey! You, uh, need something to cool down a bit?" And as gnarly as he was believed to be to the child, Eddie remained silent to the offer, despite the ache for it. But the young man wasn't one to blame the young boy, so slowly, he approached. "Don't have to die out here, kid, could get you a fan if needed?" Nothing. "Folks around?"

Al? Al Munson? Around? Yeah, even the high schooler realized how stupid he sounded asking. But shitty fathers wasn't anything new to him, had a couple of his mother's boyfriends to even add to the experience, which was probably what inclined him to have a seat next to Eddie's hunched stature. "Killed an owlbear last week." Words may not have came out, but the furrow in Eddie's brows was quite a reaction. The guy laughed. "Y'know, D&D? You ever play?"

Dungeons and Dragons? Pardon his French, but that nerd shit? Wasn't this guy supposed to be cool? "Don't give me that look, twerp, can't knock it 'til you try it." A corner of Eddie's lips almost upturned. "Let's play.”

Spoken so faintly, "What...?" Christ, that kid was in need of water.

"Like, right now, let's play. Let's see, you," a point to Eddie's chest, "you gotta bow, on your back, strapped in- hell, and a sword and dagger at your hilt, right?"

"Uh-"

"Don't question it, just imagine it." The nicotine of his breath emphasized. "It's dark in the woods, isn't it? Nighttime, with almost no light, right? The moonlight can barely peak through the sea of trees, but that doesn't stop you from walking." And he watches Eddie's eyes fall to the telling of his story. "But... you hear a crack. It's something large. You can feel it. What would you do?"

Eddie seeks for the validation. "First thing?" And the teenager nods. "How far away is the crack?" Then, there's the smile. The hook, the teen calls it in his mind. "Perception check. We roll the dice, and let's say you roll a thirteen, and hell, you seem like a perceptive kid," the young man alludes to the similar taste of clothing Eddie's suddenly acquired, "that's a plus three, now sixteen. No need for me to tell you the insights, man, you know it's about twenty feet away."

"Then... then, I want to take out my bow first." Eddie rationalizes. "A-And I'm gonna aim."

And there's a light noticeable within Eddie, the high schooler can tell. "Okay, now, slowly creepin' at you, suddenly into view, you see its bit of eyeshine, in the darkness, you see an owlbear." Eddie smiles. "Ten to fifteen feet," the man acts out, "a monster so extraordinary, with the look of an owl, but a stature as great as a bear. It's squawking at you... what do you do?"

The curiosity sits up within Eddie. "Have I ever met an owlbear before?"

"History check."

"I have a history?" Eddie quizzes.

"You have a life, kid." Those words, something within had lit up inside Eddie. "This is D&D, you're playing D&D!"

"But how do I win?" His peculiar eyes rounded.

And a smile greeted him on the other end. "You don't. The goal's not to win, it's to tell a great story." Eddie sat back. "If this one isn't doing it for you," and gaudy rings on the young man's finger pointed to the likes of the trailer park, "make your own. It's what I do." He shrugged. "Don't keep your shitty life a shitty life. You could be sword fighting dark wizards in enchanted forests instead of waiting for next bad thing to happen." And Eddie listened. "Make your own life."

By the time Wayne’s pick-up truck had arrived, Eddie Munson had killed the owlbear.

And perhaps, in a few years’ time, about nine or ten, Eddie comes across a lost soul, too. Well, maybe not lost, per se, just allergic to the hierarchy of high school that he’s unfortunately been subjected to for far too long. Not exactly here or there with that group or the other, simply floating by without a notice- well, mostly.

There was some notice of your hair, the quite nice hair you got there, how you, uh, how you had it. Y-Your teeth, too, uh, pretty cool teeth. Made your smile kinda nice- well, not kinda, very nice- but not nice in a creepy way, y’know, nice in a good way… yeah.

Eddie swallowed thickly.

“Thanks.” You bluntly muttered back, returning to your task of retrieving dusty books from the desolate library.

“Oh, you like Lord of the Rings, I love Lord of the Rings!” It was worn, spine creased with no care- or maybe too much care. “Y’know, with the, uh, elves and shit, love ‘em.” You eyed him, and suddenly Eddie was plotting his own demise. Why he chose to speak as if he’d never read the book, he would never know, but words were spewing, and unfortunately, you were being drenched in the vomit of his nerves.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” You chuckled off in amusement.

But, nonetheless, you were ready to walk away from the oddity of Eddie Munson, as Hawkins High, in of itself, was weird enough for your liking.

“I killed a owlbear once.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face the metalhead, who bounced on the balls of his feet. Yeah, impressive, you swore the look on his face said. “What’d you just say?” Interest piqued.

“Wanna play D&D with me?”

Maybe you liked his weird…