#What is this? Oceans has entered the chat?

[runefactorynonsense]

Spooktober - Day 18 - Shadow

I'm thinking east may be the way to go.

[f0point5]

I know we have a different Y/N now but I saw those pictures of max playing padel and I just kept thinking about Max’s Y/N watching 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i miss them

SAME. Ngl I saw the pictures and this just came to me so… I hope this satisfies your craving for them lol

*******************

“Once again,” you declare to Max as you enter the padel court, your hands full with water bottles, “I’m so glad you’re fast,”

“He’s only fast on wheels,” Lando jokes, shaking his head at Max as he takes a bottle. “Seriously, mate, Fernando is a great player, and so was Charles yesterday, so you are definitely the problem,”

Daniel and Fernando agree as they take their bottles, while Max gingerly waits for you to hand him his.

“It’s the- it’s my, like, shoes, mate. They’re sticky,” he defends himself indignantly while Lando and Daniel snicker. “I swear they’re-“

“Don’t worry,” says Fernando, clapping Max on the shoulder. “We tell them what it is in the champions group chat. Oh, no, we can’t, they’re not there,”

The snickering stops, and Lando and Daniel look like kids whose teacher has just asked them to hand in their homework.

“Well,” Lando huffs. “That was uncalled for,”

Everyone just laughs, and Daniel ruffles his hair.

The other three chug at their water while Max stands next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s cute, how unused he is to not being good at something, even more unused to continuing to do that thing regardless. As much as you tease him, you’re immensely proud. You know that voice in his head telling him to stop embarrassing himself all too well. He’s been better at quieting his than you ever have yours.

“Honestly, it’s the wrong shoes,” he mutters to you, sliding one of his feet along the floor.

“I know, Maxy,” you say, tempted to kiss the pout right off his face. “But hey, you’re going home with me, so did you really lose?”

“That’s not worth extra points, so yes,”

“You know, I really thought we’d make it at least six months before I murdered you,” you say, poking him in the chest hard enough that he rubs at the spot over his heart.

“I don’t get it,” Max says, his face twisted in hopeless bewilderment. “How does being with you mean I won padel?”

“Mate, look at your girlfriend. You won life,” Daniel explains, coming up behind you to sling a damp arm around your shoulders.

“Danny, if you ever get that Red Bull seat, call me, because this dufus ain’t cutting it,” you joke, squeezing at his hip. Daniel laughs and lets go if you with a sticky pat to the back as Max groans.

“Naw, come on,” he says, sliding his arms around your waist as you cross your arms over you chest, purposely avoiding looking at him. “I don’t even care about padel,”

He doesn’t pull you closer, mindful that he’s sweaty, and you feel your heart ache a little. Max was the centre of his world, thousands of people spent their lives anticipating a flick of his wrist, but he never once took another person for granted.

“Cut him some slack,” Lando says, and you watch him pour some water over his curls with a grin. “He knows he won the lottery,”

You frown at that. “He didn’t.” You finally turned to Max, looking up at his flushed cheeks and glassy ocean eyes as you press a palm to his cheek. “the lottery is luck. He got me on purpose,”

He smiles at that, hands ghosting over your hips as he lets go of you. “Who cares about being a padel champion?”

You shrug, brushing some hair away from his forehead, just to touch it. “I’d rather go home with a four time world champion anyway,”

[mochimooon]

DTF Only (Girl Dinner) - jean kirstein x reader 18+

pairing: Jean Kirstein x afab! Reader summary: It's Hump-Day and your latest match, Jean wants to wine and dine you. word count: 4k+ notes: Part 5 of DTF Only. My fav, Jean's turn 😊💗 Indented text refers to Reader's messages. warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

Hey! :) You’ve got a pretty smile.  How’s your week going?

Tinder has quickly become part of your daily routine. At night, you fall asleep swiping. In the morning, you catch up on new messages as you pour a cup of coffee. 

The man—a gorgeous man—behind the latest message stirs your sleepy mind wide awake.

A handsome face with an equally handsome smile, a jaw framed with a dusting of scruff that adds a rugged touch to his refined beauty. 

Jean’s a year older than you are, works in property management, loves to travel, and he’s open to anything. Friendships, hook-ups, long-term commitments. Vague. 

Scrolling through his photos, you pause on a group picture. He towers over everyone in the frame, and you notice his height is left out of the bio, letting the pictures speak for themselves. Given the apparent stature, your imagination runs wild…

He looks great in every single picture, whether in a suit or dressed casually, Jean’s confidence is effortless through the screen. He even snuck in a shirtless photo of him by the pool, and you’re not disappointed in how he looks in those swim trunks. Good boy…

You are shooting your shot here and now. 

Week has been interesting so far lol Are you a local or in town for a visit?

His response is immediate.  

Local ;) Can I take you to dinner tonight?  There’s a new spot I think we should check out.

Another date. It would be a sin to say no.

7pm works best for me. Where’s this spot?

…

“Ohhhhh….he’s…good job…” 

After sending a picture of Jean to the group chat, Pieck is at a loss for words on the phone call.

Even Ymir gives her own seal of approval. “Alright, so far, he’s more your type. Tall, classic pretty boy. Unlike that doofus from the other night.”

“Cory?” Pieck says.

You sigh, looking out the car window, the cityscape shrinking away. “Connie was not a doofus, he was fun!”

Ymir scoffs on the other line. “Whatever, this Jean dude gets points for wanting to take you on a proper date. He’s already trying to impress you, and you know what that means…” Her voice channels into a devilish tease. “He might take you to a fancy hotel, pop some bubbly, and then chase it down with…”

Being the freak that you are, your thighs clench together. You dart a look at the rearview mirror, hoping that your Uber driver hasn’t taken notice. 

“We’ll see. I might not take it that far tonight.”

Laughter fills your ear. Pieck and Ymir don’t take you seriously. 

“Don’t stop now,” Pieck says. “Ymir’s right, Jean looks promising. It could lead to something more.”

You frown. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Ymir clicks her tongue. “Keep it open-ended. If this guy wants to spoil you with dinner and fuck you, then you’ve struck Tinder gold.”

“I thought the whole point was to explore?”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” Pieck says. “It’s how dating works, keeping your options open and enjoying the process, regardless of outcome. Ymir and I just want you to be happy.”

Ymir pipes up in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll always support you for hookering.”

You smirk, endeared by that sentiment. 

The Uber pulls to a stop, and you end the call. 

Despite the traffic in the city, you’ve made it to the restaurant five minutes early. You enter through the front, taking stock of the place.

It’s a coastal spot, offering outdoor dining that overlooks the ocean on a large patio.

You watch people saunter in and out, dressed much sharper than what you’d find at the local surf-n-turf. Even the host is dressed to impress, wearing a suit as he answers a call with polished etiquette. 

When Jean had sent you the restaurant info, you had given it a onceover after searching it up. From the location and seafood fare, you knew it’d be fancy, the kind of place that serves top-shelf wine and scoring a reservation is akin to winning the lottery. 

And as you soak in the venue, you’re doubly impressed. This place is fancy fancy.

Jean said he made reservations for 7pm under his name, but you’re unsure if you should check in or wait for him. 

There’s no need. A minute after your arrival, you catch a smooth voice uttering your name.

Spinning on your heel, you struggle to keep from grinning ear to ear.  You’ve been lucky all week and Jean’s no exception, outdoing his profile like a reverse Catfish. 

Who were you kidding? Your friends were right not to take you seriously. You need to sleep with this man.  His tall frame is poise as he steps forward, a beautiful smile widening. Light brown eyes sip in your appearance. You straighten your spine, discreetly jutting your chest out to appear graceful yet fuckable.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you in person,” he laughs, a long arm wrapping around you gently. 

You lean into the hug, senses drenched with his cologne. He’s dressed for the occasion, a clean-pressed, button-down shirt in navy, a matching blazer overtop. The top button is undone. You’re shameless, stealing a glance at the skin. 

His eyes do another sweep, settling on your chest for a few seconds before snapping up to meet your eyes. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you say, coquettish as he extends his arm for you to take.  

Together, you approach the host. 

“Kirstein at seven,” Jean supplies. 

A quick review from the host behind the counter and he smiles, grabbing menus. “This way.” Leading you both out to the patio for your table, he turns around. “Ever been to an oyster bar before?”

Jean gestures to you.

“First time.” 

The host stops at a table near the center, a comfortable distance from the glass railing to take in the ocean view, but far enough that you won’t be freezing all night. 

Jean pulls your chair out, taking his seat afterwards. The host briefs you two on the menu, and after explaining the wine selection, Jean orders a bottle for the table. 

“The blue suits you,” you say, nodding. Under the glow of the string lights and heat-lamps, you can’t stop ogling him. “On theme for the evening.”

Jean unrolls the silverware from the cloth napkin, giving you a cheeky look. “Thank you. Glad you were free tonight. I know it’s kind of last minute, so I appreciate the flexibility. Didn’t want to miss out on a chance to see you.”

“How could I say no?” You bat your lashes. “Trying to be more spontaneous these days.”

Jean huffs an amused breath. “I can relate. It’s healthy to be spontaneous sometimes, breaks us out of routine.”

You hum in agreement. That’s something you’re quickly learning. 

A waiter arrives, presenting the wine bottle Jean had ordered with the host. A white wine variety that that pairs well with shellfish. Neither of you waste too much time deciding on the menu, placing an order for their popular oysters. And the waiter disappears. 

Jean reaches over, pouring wine into your glass. “Can I ask what brought you to Tinder?”

You lean your chin into your laced fingers, shrugging. “It was my friends’ idea. ‘You’re single, you should be out there exploring’.”

“A little peer-pressure is harmless,” Jean teases. “If not for them, we wouldn’t have matched.”

You laugh faintly. “I’ll thank them later. Besides, it’s become the new norm to meet people online. That’s why you’re on it, right?”

He flashes his teeth. “Yeah, it’s not as weird anymore as it once was. My friends, colleagues, almost everyone’s hopped on it. In the end it’s no different than meeting at the DMV or at a coffee shop.”

You smile. “Like a meet-cute?” 

Jeans smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Is that what they call it when you meet offline?”

“Rom-com lingo. Meeting someone where you’d least expect to meet. I guess it can apply online too.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

Aside from casual sex, nope.

Beyond that, you don’t know. You’re in a lull, still processing how to feel about your breakup. You suppose you could just say, you’re looking for a fling, but saying that aloud seems too bold, and if you’re being honest kills the mood. Sex is most rewarding through the art of seduction.

“I like to keep things open-ended, so whatever happens, I guess I’ll figure it out later.” 

Jean nods. “Same here, I like to go with the flow, see where it leads.” 

From the way his eyes dance from your lips to your chest, you don’t need him to clarify his answer. It’s staring right at you, six foot three with ash brown hair that graces his nape. You want to run your hand back there, maybe yank it a little.

Jean raises his glass, meeting your eyes. “Cheers to whatever happens.”

You exchange pleasantries, getting a better feel for each other. He talks about how he got into his field of work, and you explain what your days are like working from home. 

It’s tame and safe…for now.

The tray of oysters is set down at the center of the table, arranged neatly.

“Glad you’re not picky about seafood,” Jean says. 

“I like most but never had oysters. They don’t look as intimidating as I thought they’d be.”

Jean squeezes a lemon wedge over the spread. “I think you’ll like them.”

“I’ve heard it takes a special kind of palate to enjoy them.” You tilt your head, and his smile understands that you’re not talking about the shellfish. 

“The texture takes some getting used to. But they’re a superfood. They’ve got protein, antioxidants, they boost energy.” 

There’s a pause, a bold shift passing across the table. 

“And a stimulant,” Jean finishes. 

You hold Jean’s stare for a moment, reading where the line of small talk blurs. It’s a tempting lure, and you take the bait. “An aphrodisiac.” 

There’s a glint in his eyes that reaches his pearly whites. “Exactly.”

You shiver, goosebumps coating your skin.

Jean looks to the plate of oysters, reaching for one. You do the same, tipping the shell up without breaking eye contact as the flesh disappears behind your lips. 

The texture is a little off-putting, but you chew it enough to assess the briny taste. You swallow, puckering your mouth, reaching for your glass. 

You wash the oyster down with white wine and sigh. 

Jean’s stare flicks to your wine glass. “You got lipstick on it.”

You spare the glass a look, arching a brow. A distinct nude imprint is stained on the rim like a delicate kiss. 

The corner of your mouth curls. “Guess that means I’ll have to redo it. It’s my favorite shade, but it’s not long-lasting. Rubs off too easily.”

“That right?” Jean purrs, a smirk ghosting his lips. “I thought the point of wearing lipstick was for it to get ruined.”

The brisk ocean air turns humid, leaving you breathless and setting your pulse aflame. You look forward to seeing where the night takes you.

A few more helpings of oysters (and a little more wine) later, the flirtatious back and forth darken to vulgar language whispered across the table and shameless eye-fucking. 

“I want to feel you squeeze around my cock,” Jean intones, low and gravelly, and meant for your ears only. 

You bite your lip, imagining how hard Jean must be right now. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs tighter under the table, but that doesn’t help at all. You’re so horny you want to crawl across and devour him. 

The waiter returns, you and Jean doing your best to tone it down. 

“Another bottle of wine for the table?” 

“No, we’re fine, thank you,” Jean says, smooth like silk as if he wasn’t dirty-talking you just seconds ago. 

“Can I get you two anything else?” 

Beneath the table, you drag your foot up Jean’s leg, looking at the waiter with an innocent smile. Subtly, you bring the tip of your heel to nudge Jean’s muscled thigh. It’s subtle and secretive and gets the exact response you want from Jean.

He masks the hitch in his throat as a chuckle.

You can tell he’s losing his patience, unable to resist the crackling tension. His equilibrium hangs by a thread.

He addresses the waiter with an even tone, but you’re not deaf to the whisper of urgency behind his words.

“Just the bill.”

…

Jean white-knuckles the drive to his place. His other hand rests on your thigh, pressing his fingers into the flesh. Unable to control yourself, you take his hand to stroke along your face.

He flicks a glance from the road, caressing his thumb across your lip. You nibble his thumb, smiling around it when Jean groans. 

It’s cute how riled up he’s gotten, and you can’t deny how much it turns you on.  

You suck on his thumb, whirling your tongue around it. “Do you like this, Jean?”

Eyes trained on the road, Jean can only manage a strained hum. “Mhmm—”

It’s a rhetorical question, because you already know, and before you realize it, he’s pulled into a parking structure and kills the engine. 

Jean all but grabs you from the car and tugs you up the elevator to his apartment. He bites back a displeased grunt, sliding his arm from your waist upon seeing a few people inside. 

The other tenants give you both a brief onceover and turn away as they read the room, fraught with so much sexual tension.

Reaching the fifth floor, Jean’s hand squeezes yours as he politely excuses you both, wishing the other tenants a good night behind a strained smile.

It’s a short walk to his door. Jean’s keys scratch at the keyhole a few times, distracted to get it open. It’s not his fault your hands roam around his torso, mapping out the taut muscles beneath his shirt.

The door clicks open, and Jean drags you inside, whirling around.

Your back hits a wall, mouth seized in a fiery kiss. Reaching for his shirtfront you pry it open, popping a few buttons. Your fingers graze lines of chiseled muscle, fingers brushing against his nipples as you help him slide the shirt off. 

Jean hisses into your mouth, taking hold of your thighs to lift you up. He’s on the move, deepening the kiss, kicking a different door open. 

You land on your feet, and with enough willpower, you pull away for air. “Jean…”

Light brown eyes gloss over your face, rich like scotch. He’s so much bigger than you, can easily pick you up again and toss you to the bed. It’s an enthralling idea until a different thought crosses your mind.

“Jean.”

He hums against your pulse, peppering that spot with a few more kisses before he resurfaces. Anticipation hangs over the edge of his smile, eager for you to give him a signal.

You make a bold request. “Get on your knees.”

Surprise flickers along Jean’s brows, stretching to his hairline. But it’s replaced with brightened excitement. He kisses your cheek, then drops to floor, peering up at you, a dog waiting for a bone.  

Despite the current dynamics, you feel a little timid then, wondering how far you can go with this. 

Jean’s eyes flutter shut, melting at the feel of your nails carding through his hair. 

“Does that feel good?” you ask in earnest. 

Jean nods heavily, looking up with a lidded gaze. “Yes…” 

You catch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, and you lick your lips. “What about this?” You’re still testing the waters, reaching for the back of his skull. You tug his hair, pulling his head back.

“Yes…” 

Shit. Jean’s so quick to yield to your touch, it makes your pussy throb.  

Hiking up your dress, you throw a leg over his shoulder. 

Jean’s eyes drown in the lace of your panties. “So fucking pretty…” he husks. He grabs onto your thigh, kissing your pussy through the fabric.

You moan, rewarding Jean with another comb through his hair. Nails dig a little deeper, again testing both his and your limits. 

He sighs in bliss, pulling you closer to bury his face against your panties, kissing your clit, you nearly falter. 

Jean’s mouth opens to slot over your pussy, licking the thin fabric for a taste of the slick that’s soaked through. 

“Yes…just like that…” Your fingers massage Jean’s scalp, a command to continue. 

“You taste phenomenal. I’ve been dying to have you like this all night.”

Moans float from your mouth and cascade to the floor; you can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips to match the rhythm of Jean’s mouth. 

He pushes back, though his lips linger above your waistband, fingers hooking into the sides.

Your hand moves from his scalp to stroke his face, restoring his gaze.   

He’s a man enchanted, face flushed, and pupils dilated. He’s absolutely pussy-drunk.

You thumb his swollen lips, stained with your lipstick. His mouth opens a little wider with a hunger that gnaws at your stomach. 

You tug on his lower lip. “Use this.” You drop your hand, sliding your leg from his shoulder.

Jean’s quick to understand. He grabs your hips, fingers reaching to grope your ass as he takes the side of your underwear in his teeth. He drags it down, switching to the other side to do the same, eyes going skywards to ensure that he has your full attention. 

It takes some time, but you’re grateful that Jean’s hasty. Any longer and you would have asked him to rip the lace. When they reach your knees, you and Jean lack any more patience. He pulls them off in one fell swoop of his hands. 

Your leg comes astride his shoulder again, a sharp breath digging deep in your chest, fixating on the view below. 

Jean’s eyes reach yours, his breath hot and humid against your pussy. “I’m gonna devour you.”

And he’s all in, tongue thrusting into you, nose nudging your clit. 

You whimper, grabbing onto Jean’s hair for leverage, savoring the feel of his mouth. You’re so sensitive, already so close to the edge. Your body moves on its own, hips bucking to grind against Jean’s face. 

He eats you out with desperation, hungry to please, as though he’s been waiting for this moment all night long. His fingers press into your hips, a beautiful, bruising pain. 

He doesn’t stop to pull for air, nor does he resist your hand guiding him for deeper contact. It’s like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. 

Gasps burst out of your mouth, aware of nothing else but Jean between your legs. Your mind is close to slipping away, but as you toe the edge of ecstasy, you release Jean’s hair to tap him urgently on the shoulder. 

He draws away, slack-jawed, threads of drool and slick breaking apart.

“Bed,” you breathe. “On your back. I want to ride you.”

With that incentive, Jean’s on his feet one second, and plopped onto his bed the next. He’s so tall, he takes up most of the space. That doesn’t matter, however, as you crawl on top of him, taking his wrists and bounding them at the sides. 

You inch closer to his face. Jean lifts his head to meet your lips. The kiss is hungrier than ever, and at the feel of Jean’s bulge between your legs, it’s clear that you both have starved long enough. 

Pushing back, you slide off, searching the floor. 

You swipe up your clutch, tossing it away a second later to flash the wrapped condom, ready to tear it open.

Jean props himself on his elbows, shaking his head. “It won’t fit.”

Your brain lags, at first, but lowering your gaze at Jean’s crotch, it dawns on you. Your finger hooks into the waistband of his underwear, drooling at the impossible to ignore outline of his cock.

Jean grabs something from the drawer of his nightstand. “Here.”

He hands you another condom—a more sizeable one. 

You blink, taking it, and drag his boxers away. 

Jean’s cock springs up, slapping your wrist.

It’s…big. 

You stare, mouth agape, unsure if you want to suck him off or ride him. 

“It’s waiting on you,” Jean rasps.

You look up to meet his smile, more humble than smug. He grabs hold of his cock, stroking along the skin, rubbing past the thick vein plunging down the base. 

He takes your hand gently, guiding you to stroke him. 

When he lets go, you’re stunned with how fucking heavy it is, mind spinning with how much it’ll stretch you out. 

Not wasting anymore time, you tug on his boxers and pants. He lifts up, pushing them down to assist and he’s naked underneath you. 

After sliding the condom on, you straddle his lap, ripping your dress off, giving Jean a moment to play with your tits and appraise your body. 

“Stunning…” he purrs, the word scrapes against his throat.  

“I’m going to ride you now Jean.”

He nods, hands on your hips. “Please do.”

You brace yourself with a deep inhale, still in awe as to how all this will fit inside you. Regardless, with the help of Jean’s large hands, you lift up, biting your lip as you slowly sink onto his cock. 

The stretch is immediate, tender, and intoxicating. Still, you’re careful, taking your time, relishing in the feel of your pussy sucking him in, bit by bit.

You catch Jean watching his cock disappear inside of you, his mouth hanging open. 

Sinking further, you gasp, already so full before you’ve taken all of him. It’s like time came to a still just for you to embrace the moment he’s fully sheathed inside of you. 

Jean waits for a signal, patience stuttering from the twitch of his dick. He’s traveled so far into a trance, the only way for you to reach him is to move. 

It’s a tentative start, a roll of your hips to ensure you still feel comfortable. 

Jean hisses, squeezing your hips. A muscle ticks in his jaw and your pussy spasms. You’re done being cautious. 

You lean forward, splaying your hands across his toned chest for support and bounce on his cock. 

Jean lets out a choked moan.

You ride him, moving up and down, gasping from the stretch and slide of his dick against your walls. The momentum builds as your hips move faster. 

Your thighs ache, and you fight against it. But your muscles cramp up for a bit, forcing your hands to slide forward from Jean’s chest to his shoulders. 

His hands leave your hips, taking your wrists. 

Your pace dials down, blinking in surprise when he wraps your hands around his neck. 

“Make it tighter,” comes Jean’s ragged breath. 

You apply pressure, stunned to feel the beating of his pulse quicken. You try to pull back, but Jean presses his hands over yours.

“A little harder.”

A low groan slips past Jean’s mouth, his Adam’s apple rolling against your palm. He gives you a delirious smile that curls down your spine. 

He’s at your mercy. He wants to be at your mercy, and it ignites a new flame inside of you.

With a firm grasp on his neck, your tongue dives into his mouth.

“Touch me,” you say against his lips, building up speed again. 

Jean’s thumb finds your clit, swallowing hard when you moan. 

You don’t mean to squeeze harder, but Jean’s dick jolts anyway. 

The momentum triples, your pussy tightens around Jean, and with another look at him—hooded eyes and gaping mouth—you cum, pleasure pulsating through every nerve. 

Your orgasm loosens your hold on Jean’s neck, but you continue to ride it out, despite the trembling thighs. 

Jean takes care of the rest, taking your hips to thrust into you, cock twitching and a satisfied moan echoing in your ears.  

Your movements become meager, thighs cramped, energy drained. Jean’s cock softens, you fall to his chest, wiggling off his lap. He’s so big, your pussy feels hollow without it.

Jean heaves a deep breath, an arm snaking around your back. He reaches behind you to slip off the condom and tosses it aside. 

Time moves again, your breathing evens out, head clearing that you’ve become aware of Jean’s fingers trailing up and down your spine. 

You look up, exchanging a tired smile with his. “You like getting choked?”

His smile broadens, a blush paints his face. “Sometimes. I like it when a woman takes the reins.”

You huff a tired laugh, replaying the image of Jean moaning with your hands wrapped around his throat. You’re all for equal share in the bedroom, but sometimes a part of you burned to take the lead. Though you don’t mind the opposite either.

“And other times,” Jean continues, stroking up your back until his fingers tangle into your hair. It’s a gentle pull, though firm enough to drive his next point with a devilish look. “I like to have total control.”

A new fantasy pricks your mind, a visual of Jean standing before you with you on your knees. You swallow that thought for now, remembering Ymir’s words.

“Keep it open-ended.”

☻ masterpost☻

taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel

[evilminji]

Back at it again with the BNHA crossover Ponderings!

Nedzu is LITERALLY one of THE smartest beings on the planet, right? Like... he's probably on some internationally recognized list of Top Planetary IQs? Which is why Japan let's him get away with so much?

Cause they REALLY fucked him over, he has the power to leave, and that would be really, REALLY bad Brain Drain wise/politically for the Japanese Government? (Also pls don't become a Supervillian we literally can not afford that, Mr. Nedzu Sir? Etc etc)

You think he has... like? Chats? With the OTHER top intellects? Some kid in Siberia with the New Super Intelligence Quirk his parents can't begin to even handle, gets put in history's WEIRDEST group chat? I like to think so.

But the REASON I ask this?

What hero do you call? For Weird Shit in international waters?

Suspicious, floating, weirdly two dimensional and HIGHLY radioactive... corrosive... green goop? Rings? Orbs? CAN it be an orb if it's two dimensional? It certainly LOOKS like there is depth to it... somehow...

A THING. In the sky.

Shouldn't be there, man. This is a shipping lane. It's scaring the people on passing ships. No one knows what Quirk could have made this. Might be a trafficking victim's call for help. Might be a first Quirk Use mishap. They need to know what it IS and how to get rid of it.

They go the normal routes first. Doesn't work. Okay, call in some professionals. Kinda pricey, but no big. Right? Doesn't work. Okaaaay, call in a SPECIALIST. REAL pricey, but this thing is holding up international trade, making people in fancy ass suit all Nervous(TM).

Doesn't Work.

Specialist tells um to not to bother with calling anyone else on their normal list. Is looking at the green goo like it spat on his mother and called his dog a whore. They would prefer he NOT make that facial expression. That is a facial expression that will get them yelled at by their bosses. Fuck(TM).

Now Politics(TM) are involved. People want to STUDY the green goo. Harness it for dubious and unknown green goo experiments. Poke it with their Quirk to see what'll happen. There's fuckin REPORTER with no concept of self-preservation, trying to get CLOSER to the RADIOACTIVE POISON GOO.

Fuckin Heros have shown up.

Why are you bastards even HERE. What? Are you peacocks gonna PUNCH it? Get off their rig! Stop posing in front of the GOO!

Then? Oh thank GOD. The SMART people show up. Certified, highest grade, triple refined, PREMIUM Nerds(TM). The WAY above our pay grade folks. We're SAVED! Can we PLEASE go home now? We are just ocean cleaners! Our job is debris! Not weird GOO!

Enter, stage Super Cool Helicopters? The Elite Nerds of Earth. Of which Nedzu is one. Since Japan is closest. And it's a school weekend! He had some time.

And?

Ha ha... Thanks, he hates it! Nedzu's stoat brain is SCREAMING and he wants NOTHING to do with...? What he is somehow CERTAIN is a floating pit of Death! Interesting effect. Anyone getting that or just him?

Then? Some hot head on loan to Korea from the states? Spots something. SomeONE. And does he TELL the newly arrived professionals? So they may do a risk assessment? Figure out a way to rescue this individual SAFELY? Of course not!

Said hot head has supposedly indescribable chains! So he just flings them rights on in! Grabbing the boy from the center of the portal, pulling him free, and in the process? Immediately destabilizing it. Causing it to collapse down towards everyone bellow.

He also then proceeds to DROP the young lad, in his alarm at this entirely predictable outcome.

Right. Into. The Ocean.

A boy, who is dressed in filthy medical scrubs, haunting familiar in a way nothing should EVER be again, and entirely unconscious. Plunge down into the briny deeps and bitter cold. Alone. Abandoned. Death, thick and viscous, losing form and raining down like bile.

Everyone saving themselves.

Ah, he rather liked this suit.

The salt water ruins it. The droplets of Green, burn like molten glass each time they touch him. He will likely have at least a few new scars, after today. Assuming this is not the end of him. But he swims fast. The boy sinking slower then his size would suggest he should. He grabs hold and arcs, dragging them both from beneath the fallout of yet another humans hubris.

He does not stop swimming. Not until he knows he is near the helicopter. He is thankful, that he dragged Aizawa along. The man takes one look at his serious expression, the state of his rescued young friend, and merely hauls them both out of the water and into the machine.

Time to go.

They saw nothing, it seems. And there is nothing to be found.

The boy does not wake. Not for quite a while. Long enough, that Nedzu, perhaps unwisely, has grown attached. Is considering adoption. If only too terrorize a few goverment bodies. And... well... the boy will need some who UNDERSTANDS. And the scars paint a very specific sort of tale. But first, the most important question, when beginning these things...

"Tea? Or would you prefer coffee?"

@the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter @hdgnj

[sweetbrier2908]

satan's random headcanons

• gives you kisses on knuckles and forehead because he's a charming prince who normally only exists in fantasy. but your fantasy turns out to be real life and now he's your prince charming.

• the most decent one in the family. the first time you realize he's actually a demon is when he talked about how he was going to tortune a lower demon.

• cat café date at least once a week. if there's a new cat? he goes there everyday for a week. friend with all the cat café owners in devildom, he also has share of some cat café since lucifer doesn't allow him to have his own cat.

• always says that he's gonna snitch to lucifer if his brothers do something wrong so he can trick them to tell him their secrets then blackmails them later. succeeds every time for 5000 years straight.

• actually the best cook in the house. from desserts to main courses. there is nothing that he can't cook, as long as he has his cook book with him. he learns recipes from every restaurant he goes, takes note of them, remembers what dish his brothers like and cook them later when he's on cooking duty (also remembers what dish lucifer dislikes and cook them later). if someone in the family says the dish he cooks today good, prepare to eat it for the rest of the year everytime satan's on cooking duty. yes, he LOVES to take care for his brothers though he never admits it.

• never organize his room unless lucifer angrily and strictly asks him to (which happened a very very long time ago since he casted a spell on his door to stop lucifer from entering his room). always says "it's messy in my own way", that's true, he knows where exactly to find this things. you need to borrow some books about devildom's history? shelf 1, row 2, number two from the right side. need some spicy romance book? on the floor, the whole stack at the left side of his armchair.

• knows some very good if not the best pick-up lines. first of all, he's closest with asmo. second, he reads romance books more than anyone in the three realms. always give you the most poetic love letters you've ever received.

• acquainted with all the high-status people in devildom. some random nobel? oh, he met they once in a art exhibition 1500 years ago, just grabbed a cup of coffee with them last month. some of the most famous corps in devildom or maybe human world? he's one of the shareholders. a businessman. literally a businessman. remember the chat where he said he introduced mammon to some perfume company so he could get 80% of the profit? yes, that's the businesman of the family.

• always befriends with people who benefit him and his family. mammon needs money? he can give his older brothers some modeling gigs. levi wants some limited merch? he knows someone in the company? beel wants to go to some restaurants? he can ask the chef to come to their house. no one knows how he expand his social network this much.

• loves to give you gifts. everything. from the most expensive scarf you can find in the whole world to a cat-shaped stone that he finds on the way home from RAD. gives you everything reminds him of you.

• always loves to try new thing with you. today you two goes to the drive-in cimema, the next day he will bring you to the ocean to go fishing. but if you want to go to the bookstore and then the cat café, he's happy to go with you, it's his most ideal date too! and if you don't want to go outside? he has some very interesting book you can try to read. he.will.never.bored.you.

• so insecure, always thinks of himself as the most avarage guy compared to his brothers, and compared to every guy you know. lucifer is always at the top, diavolo's right hand man and stuff; mammon is one of the most famous model in the three realms and known for his infamous reputation; levi is so passionate about his hobby; asmo is super popular and pretty and always the trend-setter; beel is the athlete, always loved by everyone; belphie is effortlessly smart, he's just straight-up the genius of the family and also a spoiled brat. and he, the middle child of the family, an avarage guy who will never be unique enough.

[babybluebex]

ok wait but now imagining paul not so subtly trying to get dom to ask out costar!you 😭😭 like imagine dom's just too nervous to ask you out to dinner or something after wrapping up a scene and paul's like 😒 and ASKS FOR DOM 💀 so paul going "hey, dom invited me out for dinner, which of course i'm flattered, but im a bit too old for him.....you should take my place!" and dom in the background looking absolutely mortified. cue confused reader !!

i also have been hallucinating this one small moment where you finished filming a bit later in the day compared to dom so you didn't get to eat yet. you show up to your trailer and see dom and he's like "finally im starving! burgers or pizza?" and you're like "girl what." and he's like "you haven't eaten yet and i wanted to eat with you" and you're just like "WHAT!" (🥹) and he's like "so pizza AND burgers?"

idk i need to go to sleep.

ugh my FAV idea is paul and da'vine watching you two being IDIOTS who don't see that you're falling for each other, and you tell da'vine how much you like dom but you're too nervous to say anything, and dom tells paul that he doesn't think he's good enough for you, and paul and da'vine collude to get yall together bc CLEARLY yall aren't gonna do it on your own

just little things at first, filming a scene outside and paul mumbles to dom "she looks cold... maybe you oughta give her your scarf" and dom does it without hesitation, and you smile at dom and paul is like success, or you and da'vine are cooking (bc ALL THE FOOD IN THE MOVIE WAS REAL AND AT LEAST PARTIALLY COOKED BY DA'VINE) and she "accidentally" overcooks a pan of brownies, and she says "go give them to the boy, he'll eat em" and you do, and dom is all red in the face and adores the gesture, and da'vine is back in the kitchen thinking like those kids are SO dumb

and it escalates in their poking and prodding, and dom tells paul one night "i just— i've never had any luck with girls" and paul is like "jesus christ, kid, see the writing on the wall! for the past six weeks, you've been worshiping this girl and she's been the same, and we wrap in a week, either ask her to dinner or shut up about it!" and he settles down and goes "sorry, that was mean. what i meant was—" but the snap of reality was exactly what dom needed to get off his ass, and he goes and finds you that very moment, and you're sitting chatting with da'vine, and you smile at dom as he enters the room "hey man! what's up?" and you notice his red cheeks and the intense look on his face, and you start to ask what's the matter, but he beats you to it, grabbing your face and kissing you, and you initially push him away "what the hell?" and he just all in one breath says "i think you're really beautiful and you're funny and silly but so caring and passionate, you take care of me even when you don't need to, because why would you need to, i'm a grown man, i can take care of myself, but i love the way you play with my hair and fall asleep on my shoulder during movie night, and we wrap in a week and i don't think i could live with myself if i didn't at least tell you how i feel, and paul says you feel the same way, and i usually believe whatever he says without hesitating, but i sorta worry he's wrong about it, so—" and you kiss him again to keep him quiet and you can't see her behind you, but da'vine is grinning bc fucking finally

and dom is a SWEETHEART when it comes to that second part. you had to film a scene that went on longer than expected, and dom has been wrapped for the day for a while, and the shoes you wore for the scene hurt your feet and you're tired and your body hurts and you just wanna lay down, and you get to your trailer and see the light on inside when you know you left the light off that morning, and you go in, and dom's got it all set up for you, an ocean of blankets on the couch and a pizza on your counter, and he's on the couch, remote in hand, navigating thru netflix, and you're like "the fuck is this?" and he's all puppy eyes at you "i knew you had a hard day, so i wanted to... i don't know, make it easy or something. i got your favorite pizza, and i washed these blankets so they smell nice and they just came out the dryer so they're still warm, and i'm trying to find that show you like but i can't find it, how do you spell 'derry'" and your face crumples up as you start to cry, and dom's face goes WHITE and he shoots up "oh god, i'm sorry, what did i do?" and he comes over and gingerly hugs you, and you cry into his neck and can barely gasp out "n-nothing's wrong, i-i'm just tired!" and he shushes you "maybe a little hangry too?" and you just "mhm" into his skin "that's what i thought, honey, c'mon sit down, i've got you" and that makes you cry harder and he's just sorta "... i'm really bad with girls, do you want me to let go and kick rocks, or..." and you just whimper "i've never had a boyfriend be so nice to me" and dom feels his heart shatter "jesus, really? what sorta guys have you been dating? cuz i— look at me, baby, look into my eyes— i like you. a whole lot. but i care about you too, and i care about the fact that you feel like shit and had a bad day, and because i like you so much and i care about you, i just wanna... just wanna make sure you're ok. ok?" and you sniffle and nod, and he ducks his head to get his face in your lowered eyeline "ok??" and you sorta huff out a laugh "oh, c'mon, you can do better than that. i'm not letting go of you until you give me a real laugh. even if it's fake, pretend it's real" and you roll your eyes and he sorta shakes you "c'mon, you can do it. or do i need to start singing at you? because i can!" and you start to slink away from him, but he pulls you in close and kisses your head "go get into some pjs, i brought one of my shirts for you to wear, it's on your bed with those sweatpants you wear all the time" and by the time you get changed and grab a slice of pizza and get settled on the couch in dom's arms, you realize he's not eating "you're not hungry?" "nah not really..." and it's only after you're full that he reveals the truth to you "i haven't eaten all day. i wanted you to eat all you wanted and not have to worry about me :)"

[averagewriter-inthedark]

For The Gold 🥇 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

Link to my TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Pilot/Olympian!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), slight Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Content warnings: fluff, mentions of injuries, slight profanity. Might be emotional for you so be warned| Gn!reader (They/them) | wc: 12k+

Premise: In which the 2019 TopGun Uranium detachment return to Fightertown to watch and cheer on their colleague & friend as they compete on the greatest sporting stage the world has ever seen for their last chance at Olympic glory.

Note: so I was an athlete growing up (I did gymnastics, soccer, and figure skating) and although I no longer pursue my dream of going to the Olympics (my biggest regret in life) I still get super excited when it comes around. It’s currently World Cup season & I’m hyperfixating to say the least on sports and now have these ideas of a professional athlete!reader works for the dagger squad. Let me know if you want more because I totally have ideas for other sports— especially the ones I played because I have more personal knowledge of them, but I LOVE watching the track and field and nearly went that path when I was a kid because I loved to run and was really fast (I played wing for soccer in high school and I always had people tell me I should’ve been on the track team instead). For this imagine, imagine you were born in 1990 so it would put you at age 30-31 in 2021 and just to be clear this is following the idea that the events of TGM took place in 2019 since the movie was supposed to come out around that time or 2020.

“Let’s freaking go!!!” Javy practically shouts as he claps his hands when entering The Hard Deck to a crowd of people and his friends. Eyes were already glued to the multiple TV screens Penny had set up with the help of regular patrons. There was a table filled with food set out, coolers of ice and beers donated by customers. The bar was buzzing with excitement with many sporting team USA gear and waving American flags. It was the early hours of the morning—literally 5 am and everyone in the building had slept the duration of the previous day in order to pull an all-nighter or had just woken up. They wanted to watch the event live and not the replay later that day due to the 17 hour time difference. News crews were there as well, hoping to catch everyone’s reaction.

The squad rolled their eyes at their colleague, but smiled nonetheless. They too were filled with anticipation. “How much time until their up?” Coyote asked, taking a beer before finding a place beside Hangman. The Dagger squad had arrived early to get good spots with Coyote being the last to arrive. Now there was hardly any space in some areas with the turn out. Civilians and servicemen swarmed every corner.

“About thirty or so minutes. They should be coming into the arena soon.”

Everyone from TopGun was there, including Cyclone, Warlock, Hondo, Maverick and the current aviators going through the TopGun program. Many of the former 2019 detachment had gone off to their old or new assignments, but as soon as the announcement of the team hit the news they were popping off in the group chat and booking flights to Fightertown.

So here they all were. All 12 of the special detachment that trained together for a high-risk uranium enrichment plant mission back again in the Hard Deck like the first night three ago. Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, Fritz, Halo, Omaha, Harvard, and Yale. They were only missing one person.

The person across the Pacific Ocean who was the reason they were together to cheer on from home, and would be going for the gold in one final run.

It was the first week of August, 2021. The Games of the XXXII Olympiad in Tokyo, Japan.

What should have been held the year prior, was postponed due to the COVID-19 Pandemic. Now after years of hard work & dedications, nearly 12 thousand athletes from 206 nations around the world were gathered for the greatest sports event in history.

17 days, 339 events in 33 sports. The gold medal on the line.

For Y/n L/n, this was the moment they’d been waiting for. At 31 years old, Y/n spent their entire childhood and adolescence dreaming of the day they would walk through the tunnel of an Olympic arena to represent the USA. From the moment they could walk the track became their life. Their parents were coaches at Vanderbilt University and were the contributing factor to them pursuing the sport. And at age six, Y/n sat in the stands of the Centennial Olympic Stadium in the summer of 1996 where they witnessed with awe as Micheal Johnson won the gold for the USA in the Men’s 200m & 400m sprint and Carl Lewis defended his title of the long jump champion for four consecutive Olympics. Just days prior Y/n witnessed history for USA Gymnastics when the Magnificent 7 defeated Russia for the US’s first women’s All-Around team gold medal.

It was a memorable Games, held on home soil in the city of Atlanta and with many firsts and defenders.

It was the spark of a lifelong goal for the six year old in the stands.

Blood, sweat, and tears were put into training. From an early age Y/n loved to run. But sprinting was their passion. The 100m, 200m, & 400m became their sole focus.

Everyday, sometimes twice or three times Y/n was running drills and sprints. Their day would start with an early morning jog with their dad before the sun was even out, followed by breakfast before heading to the track. From there they would stretch, run drills, and conditioning. Then they would have an hour break for lunch before doing it all over again until dinner. The day would end with another cycle of drills and conditioning. Y/n would be out of breath, sweating, and sometimes in pain.

But they were determined. Like most athletes who dedicate their lives to the international level they became homeschooled and missed out on many things a typical child or teen would experience. Though Y/n had friends it was only a select few. There was hardly time for a social life and therefore it was hard for them to form connections. It wasn’t until they got into competitions did they begin making friends with fellow competitors.

At age 10 Y/n participated in their first meet. It was a let down, but not a total loss. Sure they didn’t win a medal but they didn’t come in last and that in itself was a win in their eyes. It just made them more determined to do better and the next season they delivered by claiming a regional title. As years went by regionals became state titles and soon Y/n was a national champion at age 16. That winning season had brands reaching out to sponsor the teen, but if they were to also take a chance at an NCAA title in college then sponsorships were gonna have to wait.

2008 was the year to remember. Y/n had attended their first World Championships and although they didn’t win gold, they took the bronze and became a likely contender to make the Olympic team in the upcoming trials. They had just graduated with their diploma and had accepted a full ride to Vanderbilt University as part of their track team. What came as a big surprise to their parents was Y/n would not just be getting their degree and competing for the college team, they would also be doing the Naval ROTC program.

Unbeknownst to their family, Y/n was drawn to the world of aviation. Their grandfather was a fighter pilot for the Navy and would tell them stories of what it was like in the air. He even had a cool callsign, ‘Viper,’ and taught at the Navy’s prestigious school for pilots. When Y/n was a child, he would take them to the air shows and teach them all about the maneuvers they were doing and even brought them to TopGun. They were in awe as he would explain all the gadgets and weapons of the F-14.

Yes, track and the Olympics was their life, but something was calling them to the skies.

“Honey, where did this come from? You never talked about joining the Navy before,” their mother said with confusion at the dinner table when Y/n explained their upcoming schedule. “If you make the team this summer I hope you’re not planning for this to be your only games. You’re so young and could easily go again for London and the 2016 games.”

“That’s still the plan, mom,” Y/n sighed, “But you remember all those stories grandpa would tell me about his pilot days? I want to do something more in case this doesn’t work out—have a backup plan per say. What if I tear my hamstring or something happens that I have to retire?” It wasn’t something they liked to think about, but with being an athlete the next meet is never guaranteed. Injuries are common—especially torn ACLs and hamstrings. Y/n had other passions besides track and wanted something there for if the worst happened.

“Y/n, if you do two years of their program you have to decide whether to commit or not and you’ll likely be commissioned when you graduate,” their father pointed out, “That means you’ll have new priorities and if you're serious about flight school that is going to cut time off the track. London is possible given it will be your last year in college—maybe we can pull some strings and have your commission pushed back if you make the team—-but I don’t think 2016 would be. You’re talking balancing a career as a Naval officer and professional athlete. That’s a lot to take on—physically and mentally.”

He had a point and Y/n knew it. London was in four years and definitely possible even if they fail to make the Beijing team. The location of 2016 had yet to be decided, but with the timing it would put Y/n four years into a possible Navy career.

Still they were wanted to make both work.

An Olympic champion and a fighter pilot.

First they had to get through 2008 and boy was it a year to remember. It fulfilled one half of the Olympic dream for Y/n: making the team and competing on the world’s greatest sporting stage. Tears streamed down their face as they embraced their parents following the end of the trials. It was a hell of a trials with Y/n competing against some of the best track stars in the country. They were completely starstruck when Allison Felix congratulated them following the announcement, Y/n remembered watching her four years prior in Athens for her Olympic debut and thought, ‘I really hope we’re teammates in Beijing.’

Unfortunately, a gold medal was not in store for the athlete. Of the three events; 100m, 200m, & 400m, Y/n only qualified for the 200m & 400m after finishing in the top two of their heat. The night of the 200m finals was a saddening with Y/n finishing fourth, just shy of a medal, but the Games were not a total loss when days later an Olympic bronze medal was placed around their neck and the American Flag rose alongside Great Britain and Jamaica’s.

And so the next four years of training for London—with Rio De Janeiro in 2016 looming around the corner—began the second they touched back on U.S soil. On top it was the pressure of securing NCAA titles not to mention A’s & B’s in their classes, while also getting through one of the top collegiate ranked NROTC programs.

It was a lot. And Y/n became burnt out at times. They had already set their name in record books at the national level, now it was time to amp up the game on the international and college level. A bronze medal would not satisfy Y/n, gold was the goal.

It all paid off by the time 2012 arrived. With a few more national titles under their belt and a World Championship in the 400m, Y/n was the talk for a gold among commentators. At the end of their collegiate career they secured several titles in their three events and managed to come out with a 3.8 cumulative GPA. In regards to the NROTC Y/n committed to the program after their second year and was set to commission that summer. The trials were around the same time as what would have been the ceremony, but after several meetings they allowed it to be postponed until after the trials. It would be some time before Y/n would be assigned an OTS due to the path they were taking with flight school and therefore it would likely not interfere with the upcoming Olympics. “Bring home the gold for us,” the officer shook their hand at the end. It filled them with nerves, but mostly perseverance, “I plan to.”

The trials were a success once again with Y/n having the honor to call themselves a two-time Olympian. The five colored rings were tattooed on their bicep, something they did immediately after Beijing that often resulted in being recognized in public, and gold was in their mind. After qualifying for all three events and earning a place on the 4x100 relay, Y/n had four chances at the gold: 3 individual and 1 team.

It was a silver lining moment in all three individual events. After failing to qualify for the 100m finals in Beijing, Y/n pulled a show stopping finish in the last heat earning them a place in the final. It was the most heat pumping 10 seconds of their life that happened in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it they were on the podium with a silver medal and the same would follow in the 200m and 400m. At the end of the 400m ceremony they were bombarded by reporters with the same question, “Y/n, what a run tonight, congratulations again this is your third medal in these games and it seems to be a silver lining moment for you. What are your thoughts?”

Still coming off the emotion from winning their fourth Olympic medal, a privilege not many could say, Y/n smiled wide, “It’s amazing really, you know I took the bronze four years ago in this event and I’m so grateful to come out with another medal—this time being silver. I couldn’t believe Monday night when I took the silver in the 100m—just making it to the finals after not qualifying in Beijing was an accomplishment and same goes for taking second in the 200m. I want to thank my parents, who are also my coaches and have been with me on this journey since the beginning. I’m just so blessed and filled with happiness tonight—I could not have done this without them.”

“You still have a chance at the gold in Wednesday’s relay. How are you feeling about that? What can we expect by the team?”

“We have such an amazing group for the relay, I’m so honored I get to represent the United States alongside them. Every one of us have worked so hard to be here and have really put our blood, sweat, and tears. Hopefully bring home the gold—I know each of us are going to give it our best.”

Y/n’s publicist from the side was signaling for them to hurry up, “One last question before you go,” the reporter quickly said. “For the people at home who have been cheering you on these past four years, can we expect you to return for Rio? I know you could very well take the gold in the relay, but are you hoping to try for an individual in the future?” This was the question Y/n had been preparing for the entire games. Having managed to keep their NROTC program hidden from the media, it troubled Y/n to reveal they would be a Navy officer by the end of the summer. It wasn’t odd for active duty members to be athletes, there were plenty who participated in the games every four years. It would just be difficult given the career path they chose and having to get all the paperwork filed for time off around meets and international competitions.

After a moment of thinking, they finally answered, “I’m very lucky I get to say I competed in these games twice now. I’m twenty-two now and will be twenty-six by the time Rio comes around—not to mention I start flight school pretty soon,” there was immediate surprise by the reporter, but Y/n continued and was quick to finish with. “I’m gonna work hard as I always do and hopefully Rio is in the cards for me. But to give a yes or no imma just say yes, that is the plan.”

Before the reporter could question the topic of flight school, Y/n was already saying goodbye and letting their publicist pull them away. The relay was in two days and was their last chance at winning a gold for the London games. Of course, Y/n was hopeful they would make the Rio team for the sake of winning an individual gold medal. There would no doubt be glory and honor if they were to win the relay, but it had been their dream since childhood to stand on the podium with a gold around their neck for one of their events.

The relay was all they ever dreamed of. A strong group with Y/n leading the first leg before handing it off, giving their teammate a great start to pull a lead against the other nations. As they were walking back to the start, their heart was racing and not just from the adrenaline…but by their teammate being the first to cross the finish line. Then there was the sound of the announcer amongst the roaring crowd, “WORLD RECORD!!!” with the USA appearing beside the #1 spot.

Y/n was screaming before they could stop themselves, “Oh my god!!” knees hit the track as they sank to the ground. They couldn’t even hear themselves by the cheers. It was a spectacular moment with Y/n pulling themselves up to run and embrace their teammates and share the glory they just made. Not only were they Olympic champions but also World Record holders of the 4x100m relay.

“The United States has taken the gold here today in the 4x100m relay and a new world record has been set thanks to the extraordinary start by Y/n L/n.” “This relay group gave it their all today, John. It was such a close call coming around on the third leg, but the Americans pulled through for a stunning finish for Olympic gold.”

With an American flag in their hand, Y/n joined their teammates beside the record projection. They were teary eyed, but held off from crying because they knew the emotion would come full heartedly on the podium. And boy did it come. The second the national anthem was playing, the first tear fell from Y/n’s eyes. The medal was heavy around their neck, but it was a reminder that they achieved the goal they set out when they were six years old.

Olympic champion.

And they got to share it with their teammates—an immense honor they would cherish till the end of time.

Y/n could barely remember all that happened following the podium ceremony. After a celebration with their parents and best friend, who flew all the way out to London to support them, they had no more events and got to rest for the remainder of the games. Closing ceremonies were spectacular. One of Y/n’s favorite moments from the Beijing games was getting to mingle with athletes from the other nations during the closing ceremonies. This time around Y/n was speechless as they got to see a Spice Girls reunion and One Direction perform.

Life became chaotic to say the least following the return from London. After winning four medals including a gold, Y/n was asked by several talk show hosts to appear for an interview. They accepted a few and were immediately bombarded with questions about the little detail they slipped after winning the silver in the 400m. “You made it known to the world that you’ll be going to flight school, was it? What can you tell us about that?”

“Well during my time at Vanderbilt, where I competed for them in the NCAA—which can I say, It’s a completely different ball field when your parents are not only your coaches for international competitions but also college meets. The energy is different, especially because they’ve been there for almost two decades now and are the definition of school spirit. Anyways, while I was there I also took the route of doing their Navy ROTC program. My grandfather was a fighter pilot for the Navy and pretty much became my inspiration for wanting to fly—on top of being an athlete. It was something I thought long and hard about. I wasn’t sure if I would even make the London team and of course anything can happen, but I knew I wanted to go to fight school back when I competed in 2008. I actually will be commissioning once I’m done with all this post-Olympic press.”

The ceremony was a bittersweet moment. With their friends and family around them, Y/n was pinned on with the ranks of Ensign and named an officer of the United States Navy. From there were the challenges of balancing a career as both a professional athlete and naval aviator. Often were days of bad mental health and aches after overexertion. OTS & Flight school was intense but shaped Y/n in many ways. The first day they were recognized by a classmate resulting in the callsign, “Olympian,” after everyone would say, “Hey, Olympian!” when calling out to them after two straight days.

“Could’ve been worse,” Y/n chuckled after their parents were like, ‘really?’ when they told them. “I mean it could have been something like ‘Short-track,’ or ‘Goldilocks,’ if they thought about it. If I fucked up doing something then they would’ve named me something related to it. I’ll take Olympian cause that’s what I am.”

After completing flight school and receiving their first duty station, Y/n made the decision to hire a new coach. The World Championships were coming up and they did not want to uproot their parents while they were still the head coaches at Vanderbilt. At first they protested, but eventually relented on the condition that Y/n’s coach would be their former colleague. He was the former head coach of Vanderbilt when their parents were athletes themselves before becoming assistant coaches. “He is everything you need to bring your A-game these next seasons and Rio. I’ll make the call first thing in the morning and see what he says.”

The four years between London and Rio were brutal. The training with their new coach and balancing an aviation career showed more hardships than ever. Y/n proved themselves to be a talented pilot despite the struggles and eventually was invited in 2015 to attend the Navy’s prestigious Fighter Weapons School more commonly known as Top Gun. The same place their grandfather attended and taught at.

A hard decision had to be made when the invite came. The time period interfered with the track season and Y/n would not be able to defend their two-consecutive world titles in the 400m sprint. In the end, Y/n announced they would be pulling out from the 2015 season to attend Top Gun. They weighed out the pros and cons and felt it was the best route given the Olympics were a year away. If an injury were to occur then it could result in Y/n not even having the chance to do the trials. Their coach was frustrated in the beginning, as one would be after dominating the national and international meets for two years straight. He eventually put his differences aside to put focus on what Y/n needed to improve if they were to take the gold in Rio.

It was at Top Gun that Y/n met fellow naval aviator Natasha “Phoenix” Trace. They were seated next to each other in one of the many lecture rooms at Fightertown where Nat had to do a double take after recognition sparked in her. Nat was an athlete in high school and college who, like many, would sit with her family to watch the Olympics every four years. Though she didn’t run track, a sibling of hers did so they would always tune into the events when they came on. After seeing the patch reading ‘Olympian,’ Nat had to hold back her fangirling as the memory of her cheering when the US took gold in the 4x100m relay. ‘It has to be them.’ At the end of the lecture she approached Y/n with a shy smile, “I’m so sorry if this is weird for you, but are you Y/n L/n? I’m Natasha—Phoenix.”

They struck up a friendship during their time at Top Gun. The two bonded over their NCAA careers and sports in general. Nat admired Y/n for being able to balance being an athlete and aviator, for she made the difficult decision to not pursue her sport after college. What was ironic was they didn’t feel threatened by the other when going after the top spot in their class, considering they were both obviously competitive. Both had immense respect for the other, and didn’t care at the end of the day who came out on top. They both had similar hobbies outside of flying and would spend nights watching movies, going to the bars, or playing volleyball with their fellow pilots. It was a genuine friendship with Nat supporting Y/n even after they graduated from Top Gun both ranked #1 in their class.

Nat even took time off to attend the 2016 U.S. Track & Field Olympic Trials. There she witnessed Y/n, who she now called a best friend, qualify for their third consecutive Olympics. Nat never screamed louder in her life than when Y/n took the top spot on the team for their events. “Oh my God, you did it!” She hugged the athlete when it was all done. “Holy shit congratulations, Oly! This is it—this is gonna be your year!” Nat wouldn’t be in Rio, but promised to cheer Y/n from home.

Unfortunately the journey for the individual gold medal ended before it could even start. After qualifying for the 100m and 200m finals with the expectation of being part of the relay team once again, Y/n’s dream of gold crashed during the semifinals of the 400m.

Literally crashed.

Their signature event which had an Olympic bronze and silver to their name as well as several World titles, ended in catastrophe. As Y/n came up on the last leg with the final turn, Y/n had a tight lead against their main opponent. But before they could blink the athlete to their left tripped and fell to the side directly in front of them. Moving so fast and unable to stop to avoid the person, Y/n topped over and felt a searing pain in their side as they landed awkwardly.

Gasps rang out before the stadium fell silent with just the faint sound of cheers from the winners of the race. Y/n was panting, clutching onto their side as fire filled the entire right side of their body. The athlete who tripped was in tears and apologizing profusely. There was still adrenaline from the sprint as the arena stopped spinning around Y/n. Determined to cross the finish line, Y/n pulled themself up and helped their fellow athlete up, “It’s okay, c’mon. Let’s finish this.” They were crying and Y/n had their own tears from the pain in their side and leg, but they only had a few yards to go. Cradling their right arm, Y/n was practically limping alongside their opponent while struggling to breath. Each time they took a breath they were met with pain, not to mention each step had them wince.

They didn’t want to think of the extent of the injuries. The pain alone indicated it was bad. Y/n knew right there their Rio run was done for. Their lips trembled as the reality set in.

The athlete saw Y/n’s condition and immediately brought them to their side as they approached the finish line. Cheers and claps ignited the stadium. There was no doubt they were moved by the display of sportsmanship between two athletes from differing nations. Both with the same goal of Olympic glory that would not be delivered.

Y/n was swarmed by the medical staff. The athlete who tripped them kept apologizing, filled with guilt, embarrassment and shame causing injuries to the Olympian. They felt a little pain from falling but nothing to the extent Y/n had. They had practically gone flying forward and crash landed to avoid hitting their head hard on the track. Now that the adrenaline had finally worn off, Y/n was having to do everything to hold back from collapsing. Y/n embraced the athlete with a hug despite the multiple medics yelling at them, “Don’t blame yourself, it could have happened to anyone. Okay? I’m not angry with you at all.” It was true, Y/n wasn’t angry. Were they sad? Of course, their Olympics were totally over after being diagnosed with a fractured right arm, a bruised rib, mild concussion from hitting their head on the track, and a torn ACL in their right knee.

Commentators were speechless when the incident occurred, “Coming around the corner on the final stretch it’s a tight race between USA, Jamaica, and France—Oh! Oh no! Oh my goodness, there’s been a crash here ladies and gentleman and it doesn’t look good for the American Y/n L/n. Not at all, they are not moving—oh wait no they are getting up right now and helping the athlete from Poland. But L/n looks to be in pain they’re holding onto their arm and I can see they are having trouble jogging—a slight limp to their step. Now the Polish athlete has taken L/n under their arm and they are crossing the finish line to the cheers of the arena in a display that could only be described as what the Olympics is truly about. Great sportsmanship here folks. It’s unsure what L/n is feeling right now but one thing is certain, we will not get to see Y/n go for the gold in the 400m final.”

After the race when the NBC announcers live from Rio were in the studio recapping, they gave an update to Y/n’s situation.

“Breaking news we’ve just received on American Y/n L/n. After the unfortunate incident in tonight’s 400m semifinal, the 26-year-old from Nashville, Tennessee was rushed to the hospital after it was realized the injuries they sustained were more severe than what they thought. It’s being reported Y/n is in surgery for a fracture to their right arm and torn ligament in their right knee. It’s also been noted the athlete suffered a mild concussion as well as a bruised rib. Their coach has come out with a statement on behalf of L/n letting it be known they’ll not be competing in the 100 and 200m finals nor the 4x100 and 4x400m relays they were scheduled to compete in. L/n also has said they will remain in Rio to recover until after the conclusion of these Olympic Games before returning with their teammates to the States.

“The gold medalist in the team relay from four years ago has not said if they will be aiming for a shot at the 2020 games in Tokyo, Japan. L/n was the 2008 bronze medalist in the 400m dash before claiming silver medals in the 100, 200, and 400m in London as well as sharing the gold for the 4x100m relay. They were the leading contender for an individual gold in one of the events after dominating the 2013 and 2014 World Championships. The three-time Olympian pulled out from the 2015 season due to conflicting commitments after revealing in 2012 they were commissioned into the United States Navy following their time at Vanderbilt University. These games in Rio were their first international competition since the one year hiatus. We can only hope Y/n will continue their journey to an individual gold medal in Tokyo, but from those of us in the studio and on behalf of everyone watching at home, we wish Y/n L/n a speedy recovery and safe trip back to the States.”

It was a solemn week in Rio with Y/n sitting in a hospital bed and the games playing on the tv screen. Their coach was with them, as was their dad and together they cheered the US when they took the gold in several events including defending the 4x100m relay. The doctors in Rio gave Y/n a recovery period of nearly one year—the longest healing process being the torn knee. It would be nine months until Y/n could even jog on it, but the doctors recommended waiting a full year before testing it. PT was going to be a pain in the ass, but as long as they didn’t run or do sprints then Y/n would be able to do all else after everything else healed.

Their concussion lasted a couple weeks and the bruised rib took over a month to heal, as did the fractured arm. The 2017 worlds and nationals were out of the question. Thankfully Y/n was still able to fly once the concussion was gone and their arm was fully functional.

The entire year the athlete was unsure of what to do about Tokyo. All their focus was put into flying. Running missions instead of the track and being promoted to Lieutenant in 2018. That same year they decided to try for one more shot at Olympic gold by training for Tokyo. Their coach and parents were all too pleased—even Nat after Y/n called her up to ask for advice. They had a lot to work on since Y/n waited an extra six months after fully recovering. The 2018 season was unattainable so the goal was a comeback in the 2019 season gearing up for the 2020 Olympics.

Just like when Y/n was a child, blood, sweat, and tears were put into training. More times could they remember wanting to quit when their knee started to act up after a bad start off the blocks. They had more arguments with their coach which only fueled the fire. Lastly they were on intense missions that took a toll on their mental health. Nat would check in on them every once in a while, but Y/n brushed it off. This is what they signed up for. They made their bed, now they were to lay in it.

2019 nearly brought deja vu. The World Championships were held in Qatar at the end of September leading into October when Y/n got the call from Vice Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson.

“The Pentagon has tasked me with assembling a strike team for a special detachment. I’ve seen your record and I feel you have what it takes to be a possible member of this mission. Now I know your situation and it is my understanding you’re currently in Qatar, what time are you expected to be stateside?”

Y/n’s hands were shaking, dread filling them at the thought they would likely have to decline an assignment. But these championships were more imported. “The last day is the sixth, but if I qualify for the finals of all my events then I should be done by the fifth, sir.”

“That’s perfect,” his words had them sigh in relief. “The tentative date to report to North Island is the 24th. I’ll be emailing you the information at another time.”

“Yes, sir. I will be there. Thank you for informing me, sir.”

“Oh and Lieutenant?” Cyclone stopped them before they could end the call.

“Yes, sir?”

There’s a slight pause, “Good luck out there. Bring home the gold for us.”

And bring it home they did. In an amazing comeback after what could have been a career ending injury, Y/n L/n reclaimed their title as the world champion in the 400m dash. They fell short in the 200m, but left with the silver and even secured the gold for the team 4x100m & 4x400m relays. People called it the ‘comeback of the decade,’ and Y/n fell subject to a lot of media attention in the world of sports. Their publicist did their best to handle the press once they found out about Y/n’s upcoming commitment. “I won’t let a single soul find out about this, Y/n, I promise you. The devil works hard, but I work harder.”

Once stateside track was put on hold to prepare and partake for the special Top Gun detachment. Dressed in their service khaki’s, Y/n entered The Hard Deck for the first time in three years and was immediately tackled by Phoenix. “You’re here! Holy shit when did you get back?”

“Like two weeks ago, I’ve been chilling since Qatar since there were no assignments until this.”

“Wait, you’re here for the Top Gun detachment too?” Phoenix raised a brow before frowning, “Why didn’t you tell me the other day on the phone?”

Y/n gave the woman a look, “I wasn’t sure we could even mention it to people. Plus you didn’t say anything either, Phee.” They got her there, the pilot raising a hand as if to say, “touché”. By now they have drawn the attention of several other aviators, who all appeared amused by the display of affection by Natasha and were curious to know who it was that received it. One person, Bob, had their jaw dropped when it clicked who they were. Payback appeared to be deep in thought, like they recognized Y/n but couldn’t put a name to their face.

“Trace, you gonna introduce us to your friend?” the blonde aviator, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin said with a pool cue in hand. He was totally checking Y/n out with a settle drift of the eyes up and down. They didn’t look impressed but smiled to the others nonetheless.

Natasha brought the pilot over and proudly introduced them, “Fellas, this is Y/n L/n. Better known as ‘Olympian.’ One of the best damn pilots you’ll ever see. We both shared the honor of first in the class at Top Gun in 2015.” Nat then introduced all the guys and their callsigns, Y/n shaking each of their hands—Bob still appeared starstruck when they let go of his hand.

“Olympian, huh?” Hangman chuckled at the name, “That’s quite the callsign. What are you Greek? Or obsessed with mythology?” Rooster glared at the man, but also looked curious for the reason behind the Y/n’s callsign. Even their name sounded familiar. They had yet to see the tattoo on Y/n’s bicep, which now had the names Beijing XXIX, London XXX and Rio XXXI in tiny cursive below the rings.

Before Nat or Y/n could fire back at Jake, Bob dropped his cup of peanut shells. Everyone looked at him like, ‘what the hell, man?’ But Y/n started to smile, recognizing the shock in his face as though he had been right about something.

“S-sorry. Oh my God,” he stuttered with red cheeks, “You’re Y/n L/n. L-like THE Olympic gold medalist Y/n L/n. Oh my God I’ve watched you since 2008–since Beijing!” The revelation had shocked looks from everyone now besides Nat of course.

Payback suddenly jumped from his seat, “holy shit! I knew I recognized you from somewhere but couldn’t exactly figure it out for the life of me.” The man was stationed in London at the time of the Olympic Games and attended the night the US won gold in the relays. Now here is a member that he cheered on from the stands in front of him. “Wow, I was in London seven years ago—I-I saw you compete. This is fucking unreal.” Y/n laughed, shaking Payback’s hand. He was still coming down from the shock, having just crossed his mind that all over ESPN and Sportscenter the past month sportscasters were talking about Y/n’s comeback.

“Wait a minute,” Rooster pitched in, the memory of being in a bar the summer of 2016 played in his mind. In the same memory he remembered watching the 400m semifinals on the tv scream and gasping with everyone else when the American contender for the gold had tripped over their competitor and was out the remainder of the games. Coming closer to the scene in front of him, Rooster’s eyes caught the black ink on Y/n’s bicep. “Well I’ll be damned. You’re a pilot, a naval pilot like us? And you’re a fucking olympian?”

“Three-time to be exact, but who’s counting?” Y/n teased, causing Phoenix to chuckle and hand them a beer. All the men minus Payback and Bob, who had slight knowledge of Y/n’s career, practically had their eyes bulging. Rooster honestly thought they had just been in London and Rio. “It’s nice to meet you all. And to answer your question…Bradley, right?”

“Yeah, but please call me Rooster.” Y/n tried not to giggle at the callsign.

“Rooster, but yes I am a pilot, as our lovely Phoenix has pointed out I graduated Top Gun with her three years ago.”

“Weren’t you just in Qatar two weeks ago?” Payback asked when he remembered the World Championships in Athletics had just taken place. All over sportscenter they were talking about the comeback of the decade. “I swear I just watched you on my tv the other day during replays of the world championships.”

Y/n sipped their beer before replying with a nod, “Yeah I was. I probably wouldn’t be here if the timing wasn’t perfect.”

“That’s crazy,” Fanboy commented, still in disbelief he was speaking to an actual Olympic athlete. After hearing the stories from his fellow athletes— and doing a quick google search when no one was looking—Mickey was internally fanboying like his callsign namesake. “How have you managed to do both?”

“Lot’s of sleepless nights, determination, desire to win, and tequila on the weekends.” There were laughs at that. For the rest of the night Y/n fell into conversation with everyone. A few asked for a picture, which they were happy to do, and even signed some autographs for Bob and Fanboy. They caught up with Nat, relieved London memories with Payback and went into detail about their injuries when Rooster brought it up.

“I was at the bar with some buddies and saw that happen live. Everyone couldn’t believe it and I remember seeing you limp across the finish line with the, I think it was the Polish athlete? That’s amazing you even managed to get up after a crash like that.” Y/n was on their second beer, sitting between Bob and Coyote and across from Rooster while the others listened from the sides as they continued the game of pool.

“What were you thinking at that moment?” Javy asked with curiosity. “Did you like automatically know it was over for you?”

Y/n thought for a bit before replying, “the second I hit the track I knew my chances for the 400m were done—it was the semifinals after all. When I first felt the pain I thought it was the typical instant pain that would go away after a bit. Then when I started to move it got worse and as soon as I got up I thought, ‘yeah there’s no way I’m gonna be able to do the finals or relays.’ My chest was on fire from the bruised rib and then I could barely feel my knee once the adrenaline wore off. I probably would’ve collapsed after the finish line if they weren’t holding me up.”

‘Damns’ and ‘wows,’ rang out before Bob politely asked, “Are you going to try for the Tokyo team?”

“Yup,” they exhaled with a nervous chuckle at the end. “It’s gonna be tough I feel with how these past couple seasons have been, but I’m hoping for one final Olympics. It will be my last chance at gold—Individual gold,” they corrected before anyone could comment.

“You’re gonna retire?” Fanboy tilted his head, a little saddened at the thought. Throughout the night he had been on his phone watching replays of Y/n’s meets including their Olympic and World Championship runs. He tried not to react when he watched the 2016 400m semifinals. Now the thought of them retiring felt like a loss to the sport. It was like how he felt when Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt retired.

“Maybe not fully,” Y/n gave a small smile. “I might do one last season and a Worlds, but I don’t think I’m gonna go for the Paris Games.”

Payback came over and clapped them on the back, “Well I don’t know about these clowns but you can count on me to cheer you on next year. Hell I might even come to the trials.”

“That’s what I did in ‘16,” Phoenix cut in with a smile. “It was amazing and I’ll be in the stands again. Already planning to take time off to be there.” Y/n felt the warmth and gratitude swarm in them, “Thanks, Phee.”

What should have been three weeks of special combat training turned out to be two. The pressure was on with Y/n pushing their limit harder than ever—even exceeded that of their comeback. Never had the F-18 they’d become accustomed to flying feel like a stranger. Maverick was like their coach and Y/n made it their own personal goal to prove to him they had what it took to fly the mission.

At one point Y/n nearly pulled out as a candidate. When the details of the assignment were brought into light Y/n had to think hard about what they were doing. It was not going to be an easy mission. Not by a long shot. Ending badly was a great possibility compared to actually pulling it off. Their life was on the line.

What if they died? What if they got injured to the point they would have to medically retire? Decades of training for the Olympics would end if something horrible happened. Y/n had three to their name, an honor not everyone gets to have, but there was their chance at redemption after 2016 was now on the line.

In the end 6 of the 13 candidates were chosen and although Y/n felt a little saddened they were not chosen, there was a sense of relief. They were put on reserves and boarded the carrier for a long week ahead of them. When it was time to send off their teammates, Y/n pulled them each into a hug, letting it linger on Nat and making her promise to come back. “If worse comes to worse, L/n,” Payback said, “You better win the gold in our honor.” There were mutters of agreement from the others.

“How about you focus on coming back so you can watch me win it in your honor.”

They fulfilled the promise, because now here they were in The Hard Deck about to watch Y/n attempt to keep their side of the bargain. It was 5:15 am on Friday August 6th, 2021. The second to last day of the Games of the XXXII Olympiad held in Tokyo, Japan. And it was the finals of the 400m sprint.

Just a couple months ago in June several members of the squad including Phoenix, Payback, Rooster, Hangman, & Bob met up in Eugene, Oregon to attend the trials for the U.S Olympic Track & Field Team. Following covid precautions they wore their masks and stayed together in their own little group literally competing themselves on who could cheer the loudest. It was a bittersweet moment watching their friend and former teammate secure their place in their fourth and final Olympics. Hangman and Phoenix nearly shed a tear, the former consumed with emotion as they looked on proud at their partner waving to the crowd. Their romance was a surprise, but after the two met to catch up in March of 2020, they ended up having to go thorough lockdown together.

And well…..forced proximity can do wonders when you’re attracted to someone.

Jake wished he could be in Tokyo with Y/n, but even though it had been over a year since the virus broke out and sanctions were being uplifted there were still regulations set in stone for the Olympics. The entire event was postponed a whole year, but was still referred to as the 2020 Olympics despite being 2021. Only the athletes and coaches, which were limited to only one, were allowed to travel. Leading up to the Games, Penny had issued a vaccination verification and made the mask policy optional for those who had been fully vaccinated. She even went as far as making a limit for attendees during the week of the track and field events and had people reserve a spot in advance. She even set up screens outside for people to keep space in the building.

It was still a pretty full house and it was buzzing with excitement as it had been the whole week. Many were regulars who came every night to watch the heats, semifinals, and finals of many events but mostly people were there to watch their very own Top Gun alumni Y/n L/n. Even their parents were there—flying to San Diego to be a part of the watch party. They were already filled with nerves, Y/n’s mother was very upset she couldn’t be there in Tokyo with her child. If they won the gold it would be a bittersweet moment since her parents wouldn’t be there to celebrate in person until they returned home.

It was already a successful Games for the Olympian. The week before Y/n won the bronze in the 100m dash and 4x400 mixed relay and reclaimed the silver in the 200m. The place erupted in cheers each time with the dagger squad being the loudest. It would increase whenever the camera panned to Y/n, who was in obvious joy at racking more medals to their Olympic collection.

But now the pressure was on with one final individual event.

The 400m sprint.

Their signature event with two medals and several titles to their name.

One final shot at gold.

There would still be the relays, in which the final for the 4x100m would take place an hour after the 400m final and then the 4x400m the following night, but Y/n becoming an Olympic champion for an individual event would happen in less than fifteen minutes. The program flipped between other events while in prep for the race, often showing Y/n in the tunnel as they awaited the announcement of the finalists.

At around 5:20 all eyes were glued to the screen with someone yelling, “Turn it up!’ when the sportscasters appeared to be talking about Y/n. The pilots all had the same expression, wincing when they replayed the footage of the 2016 semifinals.

“I think we can all agree we are looking forward to this race, right Steph?”

“That’s right, John. You know, all eyes have been on Y/n L/n these Games. They have already had a great run with three medals, two bronze and a silver with three more events to go. They have quite the Olympic career since their debut in 2008 at the age of eighteen. They came up forth in the 200m in Beijing and walked away with the bronze medal in the 400m,” below the commentator was Y/n’s Olympic statistics. “Then they had a spectacular run in London where we saw them on the podium in each of their events. Silver medals in the sprints and It was their start off the blocks in the 4x100m relay that I believe is what secured the Americans the gold.”

“I agree, Steph. I can still recall that race and the emotions I felt. L/n had an amazing post-Olympic run after London—totally dominating the 2013 & 2014 seasons. Let’s not forget they were one of the top athletes in the NCAA’s during their time at Vanderbilt. I definitely believe it would have continued into 2015 if they hadn’t pulled out, but they still were the leading contender for the Rio Games. It was the height of the career I feel.” The screen was now split to showcase footage of Y/n’s 2013 & 2014 Worlds. Then it showed the heats and semifinals of Rio.

“Totally, John, they dominated the trials that year. They very well could have left Rio with more medals—quite possibly a gold in 400m which is their signature event. Everytime I rewatch the semifinals I almost have to look away at the final turn.”

“I know, it was an unfortunate incident that ended Y/n’s Olympics before they could really start. We almost didn’t know if we would even see them here in Tokyo, but after a spectacular comeback at the 2019 World Championships in Qatar, I had very high hopes we would get to this moment.”

“Me too, John, the pressure is on for the 31-year-old, let’s see if they can deliver,” the commentator turns to look at the camera with Y/n’s picture beside her, “Well it’s almost time for the 400m and it looks they are about to announce the finalists so we are going to have our crew in the stadium takeover our coverage. We will see you back here in the studio after the race and be sure to stick around because the night won’t be over for the four-time Olympian. Y/n is set to be one the four of today’s 4x100m relay final and tomorrow’s 4x400m relay.”

The screen switched to reveal the stadium, specifically the entrance tunnel where a projection would show the name and nation of the finalists. Y/n had taken the top spot in their heat and the semifinal so they would get the fourth lane on the track.

“Here we go!” Someone in the Hard Deck clapped, causing a few more people to follow. The cheers heightened when the American flag appeared above the name Y/n L/n.

First the announcement was in Japanese, then the English translator spoke through the stadium “In Lane Four, representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n!” With a shy smile, Y/n appeared from the side and walked until they were directly beneath their name. Then they turned to the camera and gave a wave followed by blowing a kiss to the screen and lastly throwing a peace sign. It must have been a little awkward without a packed stadium like the previous Games. Only a small section was filled with locals and the coaches of the athletes.

“That’s my best friend!” Nat yelled over the cheers. Several others followed the pilot, “Let’s go, Y/n!” “Bring it home!” “One last time, baby, let’s go!”

The remaining finalists were announced and took their place behind the starting blocks. When the camera panned to Y/n, their eyes were closed in a silent prayer.

“Take your mark.”

Their eyes snapped open with a shaky breath, feet carrying them to the starting blocks. Y/n did a ritual stretch down, tapping the tops of their toes with their hands before bending down to place their feet in the right position. Glancing up to the sky, Y/n said in their head, “please, give me this one moment.” Tucking their chin into their chest, Y/n waiting with anticipation like everyone else in the world watching.

It was like time slowed. “Set.” Their knees lifted off the track.

*Pop* the sound of the gun and Y/n catapulted off the blocks. Their eyes never faltered as they ahead at the track and let their legs do the work. In their peripheral they saw their opponents, the space between them slowly decreasing by the second as they pulled into the final stretch. Coming around the corner there was no one in Y/n’s sight. The finish line drew closer. Y/n didn’t know if they were in the lead by a long shot or if it was only a nanosecond.

Their heart pounded in their chest, sweat dripping from their forehead. Heaved breaths left their mouth and Y/n could feel her bad knee start to burn. But they pushed and they pushed.

All Y/n knew as they crossed the finish line was the world record flashed and their eyes snapped to the board which resulted in them screaming. As the announcer yelled through the coms, “WORLD RECORD!!” Y/n fell to their knees in tears.

#1 Y/N L/N—USA 47.50 (WR, OR)

Below their name were spots 2-8. And not only did Y/n just take the gold in their last individual event, but they also broke the World and Olympic records. Records that had been set for decades.

When Y/n finally lifted their head they were met with beaming faces of their competitors. They all congratulated the athlete, some hugging and patting their back. The world record sign was still flashing and Y/n felt another wave of emotion. This time they ran to their coach, aware the cameraman was keeping up with them to get a close look for the viewers at home.

Y/n could only imagine what it was like in Fightertown.

The second the athletes were lining up, Coyote yelled, “Everybody shut up!!” Silence filled the building, everyone’s focus on their respected screen. “Set.” *Pop* The racers were off and the commentators were already speaking frantically. “Great start off the blocks for L/n, coming around on the first turn neck and neck with the athlete from the Bahamas. Jamaica and Great Britain are not too far as they take on the long stretch of the track.”

“Go! Go!” People started to scream. Bob was biting his nails, Rooster was gripping his beer bottle. Hangman and Coyote were already off of their seats, “C’mon, Y/n! You got this!” It got louder as they approached the final turn.

“L/n is starting to pull a lead as they come up the turn, but the Bahamas are right there—this was the moment L/n’s Olympic dreams were shattered in Rio—O-oh! L/n has overtaken the Bahamas—they’ve got a huge gap as they pull into the final stretch! Oh my God we could be witnessing history—L/n is .10ths of a second ahead of the World Record and increasing their lead ahead of the others by an outstanding margin!”

“Let’s go!!!” The commentators' words were barely there as it competed with the uproar of spectators in the Hard Deck. Everyone was pretty much out of their seats and jumping as they watched Y/n’s lead increase with each step to the finish line. “You’re almost there!! Go! Go! Go!”

Then it exploded.

“THEY’VE DONE IT! Y/N L/n has won the gold for America!! They smashed the Olympic record and set the World record for the 400m dash by .10 of a second at these Olympic Games in Tokyo!”

“OH MY GOD!!!” Phoenix and several others screamed. She and Halo embraced in a hug with Nat covering her mouth to hold back her emotion when the screen showed Y/n screaming out to the sky before falling to their knees. The guys were all jumping around, Rooster and Payback embraced in a side hug, pulling Jake who was pretty much in tears as he watched the display of his partner.

“After heartbreak four years ago in Rio that put them out of a chance for the gold, Y/n L/n has come out on top in Tokyo. They can finally add Olympic Champion to their name as well as Olympic and World record holder of the 400m dash. In what could be the last time we see Y/n L/n in an Olympic Games, they have achieved what they set out to do since their debut in Beijing 13 years ago. What a stunning finish to a beautiful Olympic career in the sport of track and field.”

Y/n’s parents were clenched in each other’s arms, eyes rimmed as their own tears poured. They were filled with so much happiness for their child and wished nothing more to be in the crowd and share this moment with them. At the bar top Warlock, Hondo, and Maverick were high-fiving while Cyclone clapped along with a smile. Penny rang the bell simply to join the cheers.

It was truly spectacular to witness. The slow motion replay was on the screen followed by the Y/n’s reaction when they looked up to find their name on the board. The cheers kept going and only started to quiet down when TV showed the athlete in their post race interview. “Y/n, what a night here tonight. Congratulations are in store, you have not only taken an individual gold but also the World record—and the Olympic record! It’s your fourth medal in these Games, the first gold—how are you feeling right now after this victory?”

Everyone hushed to listen, but were grinning wide and some were wiping away tears. Y/n’s face was flushed, still coming off of the high of what had just happened. “O-oh I can’t even put it into words how I’m feeling right now,” there was a slight sniff, Y/n using their finger to wipe their face but was careful not to let the material of the American flag draped around their shoulders touch their skin.

“This is a dream come true. It has been a long journey to get here and I-I am so honored to have been a part of this team for as long as I have. You know after the 100 & 200 I didn’t want to have my hopes too high because as you can see anything can happen in these Games,” Y/n chuckled, eyes glossy, “I think I may have actually blacked out on the last stretch. I just kept my focus on the finish line and was just as amazed to see I had broken the records.”

The title card on the screen now showed: Y/n L/n, Gold Medalist, 400m (WR, OR: 47.50).

“Your friends and family have all gathered in San Diego—they’re watching right now and we actually got footage of their reaction to your win tonight. We’d love to show you if you like.”

“Oh God please,” Y/n was already giggling. The assistant brought over an ipad with a video and pressed play. On the tv screens the image split to show the video beside Y/n’s face to capture their own reaction. They saw the daggers squad in front of the bar while their superiors including Maverick were seated at the bar top. They were all surrounded by servicemen and women as well as civilians. Y/n teared up when they spotted their parents near Jake. By the end of it Y/n was basically crying while laughing. “Oh my God, that is amazing. I wish they could’ve been in the stands. I know my parents are probably thinking how the one time they can’t see me compete in person is when I win.”

The reporter laughed along with them. “I know I gotta let you go cause you’re set to race the relay in less than an hour and the podium ceremony is about to start, but before you go I just want to ask if this is the last time we’ll see you after these Games conclude Sunday night.”

Y/n softly smiled to the reporter, bottom lip slightly trembling, “uhh, you know I wasn’t completely sure. Since Rio I’ve had some troubles with my knee after the torn ACL—I almost wasn’t sure about these Games until 2018. I’ve been talking to Allison Felix these past couple days, since this is gonna be her last Games. Her and I have been part of Team USA for 13 years now and she’s become not only a mentor but a friend to me and i’m going to miss seeing her at competitions. I know I plan to do the 2022 season—especially the Worlds. Paris is only three-years away,” they shrugged, like they were considering it, “I’ll be thirty-four when it comes around so it’s really gonna come down to how I’m feeling after 2022.”

“Well I hope to see you again in Paris, but if not then it was truly a pleasure watching you these years. You’ve been an inspiration to many watching back home in the States. Congratulations again on this win and we can’t wait to see you bring it in the relays. Good luck again tonight.”

“Thank you so so much. I appreciate it and much love to everyone back home—thank you for all the support, especially my mom and dad, my coach, and my friends in Fightertown who I know are probably losing their minds. I love you all and I couldn't have got this gold without each and every one of you. Thank you,” Y/n shakes their hand and blows a kiss to the camera before following the volunteer to locker rooms to change for the podium ceremony.

Just like in London, Y/n was nearly a mess on the podium when the gold medal was presented to them. Per covid regulations, the athlete had to place it around their own neck instead of how it was at previous games with someone else doing the honor. Still, it held everything to Y/n.

They were an Olympic champion.

Tears streaked their face when the national anthem played and when it concluded Y/n kissed the medal and waved to the crowd of spectators that included the media and athletes from other countries. The rest of Team USA’s track athletes were there too, cheering the loudest as some of them have been Y/n’s teammates for over a decade. After pictures with the other medalists Y/n was rushed to get ready for the relay that was to start in 20 minutes. At the Hard Deck it was an emotional scene watching the podium ceremony. Jake and Nat were embraced, looking on with glossy eyes while everyone beamed at the screen. Y/n’s parents were with them too. It was bittersweet.

20 minutes later they were in cheers once again when Team USA took the silver in the 4x100m relay. Y/n kick started it off like they did in London, but this time fell short to second place by a smudge. It still was a celebration with Y/n adding another silver medal to their personal Tokyo medal count. It was passed one in the morning in Tokyo when Y/n FaceTimed Jake after the podium ceremony. They were met with shouts of joy from everyone in proximity that it was hard to even make out the individual voices.

“You fucking did it!!”

“Congratulations, Lightning McQueen, you were amazing!”

“Holy shit, Olympic gold!”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Y/n. I wish I could hug you right now.”

The call was brief but wholesome with Y/n thanking the entire squad for their support and they loved watching their reaction to the race. Jake spoke on behalf of the others with the promise to celebrate the second Y/n returned to San Diego in three days. After goodbyes and a quick chat with their parents, Y/n ended the call to get much needed sleep for their final race the next day. The Hard Deck cleared out soon after with many calling it a day.

It was the same scene the next morning at 5:30 am to watch the final of the 4x400m relay. “It is the final day in these Olympic Games after a spectacular two weeks in Tokyo. Many firsts have been made. There are just a few events to get through tonight before closing ceremonies tomorrow evening. All eyes are now on the finals of the 4x400m relay. And boy is there a lineup tonight with the Americans looking to defend with a seventh-straight title.”

“It’s going to be an interesting finals tonight, Mark. Like you mentioned, the US have retained the title of Olympic champions in this event since the 1996 Games in Atlanta. They are unstoppable and this is the first time Y/n L/n is part of the group. They won the gold in London for the 4x100 and just last night took silver in the event. Four years ago in Rio they were set to be on both the 4x100 and 4x400, but after a tragic semi finals that ended with a torn ACL, L/n had to pull out of Games.”

On the screen the team was announced with all four athletes appearing from the side. Together they did a little dance for the cameras before going to the track. “I’m interested to see how L/n does tonight and if they can pull through. This event is truly a team effort and unlike last night, L/n is set to anchor the Americans in the final pass rather than starting. They just won the gold in the 400m last night in a stunning record breaking finish—I’m still in disbelief.”

The Hard Deck painted a familiar picture as the previous morning. The Daggers were on the edge of their seats when the race started and Penny stopped taking orders when the third pass began. The camera was split to show Y/n taking their spot on the track to await the baton. Then the screen went back to one when the American came up on the last turn. “Here comes the final pass of the bottom in the final leg of this 4x400 relay. Poland and Jamaica are not far behind, but the Americans have given Y/n L/n a lead—and there they go! Beautiful pass from teammate to teammate and Y/n L/n is off to hopefully bring the US their seventh consecutive gold.”

“C’mon, baby, let’s go!!” Jake yelled, the others echoing his cheers. At the bar patrons were clapping the surface.

“They’re gonna get it—look at the lead!”

“It’s not over yet.”

“Let’s go, Y/n, you’re almost there!” The athlete increased the distance between them and the polish on the stretch coming into the final turn. The cheers got louder and louder with many already celebrating when it was obvious the Polish were not gonna catch up. The announcers knew it too.

“Poland has overtaken Jamaica but it will not be enough for Olympic glory—Y/n L/n has increased the margin their teammates had given them and has no doubt secured them the gold! All there is left to do is cross the finish line and the Americans have done it again! L/n has finished the job and given Team USA their seventh straight gold medal in the 4x400m relay!!” The last line was in tune with Y/n crossing the finish line. A large smile plastered on their face as a cry of joy left them that the camera managed to capture. Their teammates met them in the middle with the four embracing in cheers.

The Hard Deck exploded again when Y/n crossed the finish line, matching their reaction as though they were the ones who just won the gold for their country. They couldn’t wait for Tuesday when Y/n came home and they could celebrate the big wins together. Jake was really excited especially after having a heart-to-heart with Y/n’s father. The ring was safely tucked away in his suitcase as a reminder of what he had planned for his Olympian.

The rest of the daggers, including Mav and Hondo ended up staying an extra hour after the podium ceremony to celebrate their friend. Many were still in disbelief, but filled with absolute joy. Who wouldn’t really? They had just witnessed their friend win their sixth medal in a single Olympics. Something uncommon for even athletes who qualify for multiple events.

But Y/n did it.

They left Tokyo with two bronze, two silver, and two gold. In four Olympics Y/n started from a single bronze in their debut to their first team gold in London, leaving with nothing in Rio to finally medaling in every event they raced in Tokyo. Their first individual gold after thirteen years of hard work and dedication to rise to the top since they sat in the stands of the Centennial Olympic Stadium.

It was a golden end to an Olympic dream 25 years in the making.

Or so they thought…..

When the stars painted Paris on the night of August 11th, 2024, the final night of the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, Y/n L/n waved to the crowd in a bittersweet goodbye as they wore the Stars and Stripes one final time. It was hard to hear over the roar of spectators from all over the world. Not a single seat had been empty for the final race of Y/n L/n’s career. Athletes from other disciplines attended, some in tears by the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

“It is an emotional scene here tonight in the Stade de France as we say goodbye to Y/n L/n of the United States. There isn’t a dry eye in sight as spectators and athletes from around the globe watch the five-time Olympian take their final bow after winning the gold with the Americans in the 4x400m relay in their eighth consecutive title. In what could be described as the greatest Olympic run a track athlete has ever done, Y/n L/n has achieved the impossible in Paris with six gold medals in six events. Never has an Olympian taken the gold in the 100, 200, 400m, and all three team relays in a single Olympics, but Y/n L/n has made history. They are also the second Olympian and only American to win gold in the 100, 200, and 400m in a single Olympic Games.”

Y/n walked the track with a cameraman following them, hand that was not waving patting their chest where their heart laid. The hand now had a gold wedding band and Tokyo XXXII and Paris XXXIII added to the bicep tattoo. Y/n’s teammates that they just won the gold with had stood to the side, clapping with the crowd with American flags draped around their shoulder and tears cascading their cheeks.

Y/n finally made it to the section where the majority of Americans who had traveled from the States were seated in a sea of red, white, and blue. Y/e/c went straight to the front few rows and were immediately met with the sight of not only their parents beaming faces, but the ones of their closest friends. None of them were hiding their emotion. Phoenix was embraced by Rooster, the two wiping away at their faces as was Bob. Fanboy and Coyote were teary eyed while Payback just nodded with a bright grin, bringing his fingers up to whistle. Even Maverick, who was now retired from the Navy, was in attendance looking like a proud father.

And Jake? Jake was a mess.

His green eyes were pretty much bloodshot but there was love and admiration in his gaze. His own wedding band reflected under the stadium lights and he made the motion of catching the kiss Y/n blew to him before placing it on his heart. All he wanted to do was jump over the railing and hug his spouse, but unfortunately that would have to wait until after the podium ceremony.

The extinguishing of the Olympic torch at the closing ceremonies would signal the start of Y/n’s retirement from the world of athletics. It would close one chapter, but the other was still in progress. There was still time for them to be the best of the best in terms of naval aviators. They were not even halfway into their Naval career.

And they were totally up for the challenge, because nothing is impossible when going for the gold.

[mattsobvimyfav]

For Sport (Matthew Sturniolo & Chris Sturniolo)

Pt 5

A.n - hey yall so this is gonna be a very very very slow burn I already have some chapters written so I will probs rapid fire. It will be toxic, there will be angst , smut , everything you can possibly think of. It happens.

——————————————————————————

Its finally the end of the week and I’m packing my bag to leave early from school not wanting to finish the day. I spent the rest of the week hanging out with the triplets because Haylee has been giving me the silent treatment, which wont last longer seeing as she has nothing to do all weekend.

I sent a quick text to the group chat Nick created for us.

Pickle-

Hey babes, I'm leaving school. Not a single part of me wants to stay here so I will see you tonight.

I throw my phone into the waistband of my leggings grabbing my keys and heading out the side door. During my drive to my dads house I thought about the words Lindsey spewed at me the other morning. ‘Be a whore as much as you want. Matt will never forget me’ It wasnt that I even liked Matt, it was that 1. I was NOT a whore and 2. Why can't I just spend time with friends without it being labeled? The way she looked at me with disgust really irked me too. I literally didn't bother anyone. I kept to myself as much as possible.

Machue-

Okay us too, see you at our house.

Nicky-

10 mins out

I rolled my eyes, somehow in two days of coming over these boys have managed to woo my dad and basically raid my entire kitchen. I ran upstairs and decided I would use these ten minutes to actually relax. Before I knew it my door was being pounded on. I sent them a quick text that I was just in my room and to come up.

“I've decided to grace you guys with my presence at this football game” Nick said entering my room and laying next to me. “Grace is a STRONG word” Matt took the next spot next to me on my bed. “I personally love some Nicky time” I said sitting up looking at Matt with a dirty look. Chris laid at the end of my bed opening his phone. Matt started getting a call as he laid his head on my lap answering it, I looked at the contact name. It was Maddy with a purple heart, a pange of annoyance ran through my chest as he started speaking.

“Helloo” he answered dragging his voice out. “Hi Matty! Are you driving us to the game!” This girl's voice already annoyed me. “No sorry I'm going with Y/N, see ya there” he quickly hung up before the girl could reject and looked up at me smiling. I rolled my eyes at him, I shouldn't be jealous, I don't even like him.

“What time do we have to leave?” I asked looking up from my phone. “In like three hours” I laid down making Matt have to rest his head on the middle of my back “Wake me up in two please” Chris patted my leg getting up “I'm going to make food” Nick stood up following him leaving me and Matt alone. “C’mon move over a little” Matt said while I moved over a little laying on my side while he snuck his arm around my waist. I felt my cheeks heat up and I closed my eyes feeling his warm body behind me.

“Come on guys, we got an hour till we got to go” Chris said, shaking me. I got up finding something to wear. I decided on legging with a cropped hoodie and a larger flannel over it seeing as it would be a little colder. Mass weather at night was no joke. I go into the bathroom to change and brush my teeth quick. I walked out to all the boys sitting on my bed waiting for me.

“Lets go downstairs and get food before” I said, grabbing my phone and making my way down the stairs before the boys came booking it past me down the stairs. We all ate for a little before walking out of the kitchen towards my car. I quickly lock the doors, handing the keys to Matt.

I sat in the front, Matt driving with Chris and Nick in the back. I put on Ivy by frank ocean and Matt smiled at me putting a hand on my thigh. I felt my cheeks heat up as I looked down not wanting him to see. He left his hand there the rest of the ride. Once we get to the game we made our way into the bleachers. I took a seat next to Olivia for a minute to talk to her, the boys sat up top while some girls ran over. I finished my conversation with Olivia before walking up the bleachers to see some girl sitting in between Matt’s legs. I stop dead in my tracks, you have to be kidding me.

I rolled my eyes at Matt as I took a seat in between Chris’ legs. “Who the fuck is that.” I ask Chris angirly “Maddy, don't worry I got this.” He says before sitting up “Hey Maddy, ever think about NOT being a whore” I choked on my laugh, it was rude I didn't even know this girl.

“Chris chill” Matt said, pushing the girl out between his lap while I gave him a nasty look. “Chris can we go sit in the car” Half time had already hit, I hadn't realized how long I was with Olivia. “I'm coming” Matt said following a step behind us. I decided to just ignore his presence, he couldn't just act the way he had been and then flirt with other girls expecting me to be okay with it.

“Can we sleepover? We won't be back to your house till like ten and that's not including stopping to get food” Matt asked I shrugged agreeing still annoyed with him. We all sat in my warm car until half time was over. Chris and Nick walked together as Matt held me behind.

“Come on, what's up?” Matt asked “Oh nothing you just cuddle me to sleep, hold my leg in the car and once we are here you have some other bitch sit between your legs” I say finally taking a breath. “Are you jealous?” He steps closer looking down at me with a smirk, I shake my head going to walk away as he grabs my wrist pulling me back “If you want me for yourself just say that.” We were chest to chest and honestly he had me speechless. I sighed turning my back to him “Lets go Matthew” He ran up behind me as we walked back into the game together.

The Maddy girl would’nt leave Matt the fuck alone. I was getting pissed and it was obvious. I got up halfway through the last quarter. “Nick wanna go wait in the car?” He nodded, standing up “Lets just go” Matt said, grabbing my forearm leading me down the bleachers. Chris and Nick followed behind as Matt and I walked ahead. “Lets go out to eat and than back to yours” Nick offered and I nodded agreeing before leaning back in my seat thinking about this Maddy girl. I have never felt the weird feeling I have right now. Almost as soon as the thought was going through my head, Matt's phone lit up with a text from her. I scoffed, shaking my head and looking out the window. I had a horrible feeling about her.

Tag -

@worldlxvlys

[tgrailwar-zero]

You felt your pockets grow 400 PPT lighter as the exchange happened. Considering that you'd have to pay an equal fee to JAGUAR MAN later, you felt that this would be a heavy hit to your wallet.

PRETENDER: "Well, like I said, I didn't even see what happened. I only got there after the fact, and while what I saw there was pretty in the aesthetic sense, it didn't bode well for our team."

"I mean, was it absolute destruction? Not really." "It was a smooth pool. A total reset. A Noble Phantasm, or an Act of God… I really couldn't tell you which. But I figured it was pure chance that I wasn't there, and perhaps even greater luck that I wasn't the only one to survive- if Avenger is alive." "And, even still, it began rebuilding itself. Slowly, and carefully. A smooth pool turning into rushing water, an ocean that would one day welcome an island, and then perhaps inhabitants." "And then, a shadow manifested, rising from the water's reflection under the light of the sun. And it left a message. It was… ahem, something like…"

'…Our directive has changed. A poison has entered our system, and thus we must purify it and then expand outward.'

'To reach the Moon, they must return here. Here, I will test their mettle. Here, I will test their resolve.

'If they cannot best me, then I am the only one who can destroy the Titan. If they can, then perhaps fate is written differently than designed'

'So, with everything-- My everything. Their everything. The 'everything' that was left behind by those forgotten souls'

'They will prove their worthiness of it all in order to save it all.'

PRETENDER: "…Mm. That's all I remember, I just ran. I know it's cowardly, but I didn't stand a chance against anything that could wipe out so much land and rebuild it like it was nothing."

PRETENDER: "Anyways, that's all I've got! Now, I'd love to chat, but I want plenty of rest before the big match! Buh-bye!"

...And with that, the door shut.

IZOU: "...Huh. 400 PPT's worth of... that, I guess. Whatever, as long as Boss gets paid, she'll consider it a job well-done."

MUSASHI: "...Well, that's definitely something to mull over, I guess?"

[katana-no-neko]

Call Me By My Name

Chapter 5 | ao3

"Natsu, Lucy!" a waitress greeted as the two entered Fairy Tail.

"Lisanna!" Lucy ran to sit and chat with the girl, the younger sister of Mira. "Natsu brought me to Hargeon the other day, like you suggested. I had no idea it was by the ocean!" Natsu sat down next to her and grinned at the way Lucy's eyes lit up as she chattered to Lisanna about her first time seeing the ocean. "I mean, I'd read about it, I knew the ocean was big, but wow! The water just went on forever!"

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it!" Lisanna responded, happy her suggestion had gone over so well. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"I thought I'd show Lucy this waterfall out a ways!" Natsu replied, excited to see Lucy's reaction to the enormous feature. "Looks really cool, I think you'd like it!" he told Lucy.

The front door slammed open, interrupting Lucy's response.

"HEY FLAME BRAIN!"

Lucy jerked at the shout and watched someone enter and stomp over to Natsu. The man was shirtless, she realized with a blush, with some kind of dark marking covering his arm and much of his torso. When he reached the place she and Natsu sat, Lucy shivered as a cold chill filled the air.

"Ugh, whaddya want, Ice Prick!?" Natsu shouted back, standing up and greeting the newcomer with the same fierceness, his heat ramping up to rival the other man's cold.

"You been trying to blow me off!? I haven't seen you in ages!" the dark haired man yelled, fist raised. "What, realize you can't ever beat me?"

"Ha! As if! Just didn't wanna see your ugly mug!" Natsu laughed, fire bursting from his fists. "Had a better person to hang out with than your dumb ass!" He pulled Lucy up, clutching her to his side. "This is Lucy, she's my best friend and she's awesome!"

"Uh... Hi," Lucy hesitated. Her eyes were wide, trying to make sense of this situation.

The man raised an eyebrow at the way Natsu held her, but said "Hello," in acknowledgement. Bringing his attention back to the dragon, he started yelling again. "Now you're using a girl as a shield? Real low for you!"

Natsu carefully sat Lucy back down in her chair before punching the other man across the room. He tumbled into several tables before crashing into a wall, the restaurant patrons laughing as if this was normal. "What were you saying!?" Natsu shouted again with a grin before his opponent launched himself at Natsu, punching him in the jaw. And with bursts of fire and ice, the two continued fighting, throwing the restaurant into disarray.

Lucy looked to Lisanna in concern. The woman laughed. "That's Gray. Half-demon. This happens most of the times they're both here, ever since we were kids. He and Natsu try to deny it but they're actually pretty good friends."

"Seems like it," Lucy deadpanned as she watched them fight. Natsu was tossed against another table, this one falling apart with a loud 'crack'. A door in the back slammed open, and a tiny elderly man that Lucy had come to learn was the restaurant owner named Makarov stomped out, kicking the boys out the front door.

"COME BACK WHEN YOU CAN CALM DOWN!" Makarov shouted, slamming the door behind them and grumbling back to his office.

"I should..." Lucy started, moving to leave her stool.

"Ah, he'll be fine," Lisanna smiled. "He and Gray have been kicked out before, they'll find something to do. Besides, you and I never get to talk alone! Natsu is always stuck to your side when you're here!"

Lucy chuckled. "I suppose you're right."

~~~

"Good going, moron, now I can't see Lucy!" Natsu growled to the ice demon as he picked himself up off the ground.

Gray rolled his eyes. "Oh no, you can't see your girlfriend," he replied mockingly.

Natsu flushed. "Why does everyone assume that!? She's just a friend, my best friend, it's not like we're dating!"

"Really?" Gray quirked an eyebrow. "I guess that makes sense, she was too pretty to be dating you."

"Hey, that's not true!" Natsu growled.

Gray smirked. "What, you don't think she's pretty?"

The dragon seethed, steam coming from his nostrils in his frustration. "Are you blind!? Of course she's pretty! She has hair the color of sunshine and gold, and adorable sparkling eyes, and a gorgeous laugh, and her smile is the prettiest thing in the world!" Natsu's frown became a smile and his tone lightened as he described her. "But she's not just pretty, she's so nice and fun and I wanna be with her all the time, which you prevented!" he punctuated with a glare to the ice demon.

Gray burst out laughing. "Wow, I was joking before but you really are smitten."

"For fuck's sake, I already told you, we're friends."

"If you say so," Gray laughed again, this time interrupted by a punch in the jaw. "Hey, don't get mad at me because you don't know you like a girl!" Gray growled.

"Obviously I like her, she's my best friend!" Natsu shouted, exasperated and confuddled.

"Not the 'like' I meant, idiot."

"Tch, whatever," Natsu grumbled. "I'm going back inside. I got stuff to do with Lucy. And no, it's not a date!"

Gray raised his hands up innocently. "I didn't say a word," he snickered.

~~~

"Natsu really set Gray's hair on fire!?"

Lisanna nodded with a giggle. "Yup, Gray was completely bald. And completely pissed."

"I can't believe he did that!" Lucy laughed. "Well, no, I can." Natsu was somewhat careful and less impulsive when it was just the two of them, but Lucy had been with him around other people plenty enough to see how wild he could get.

"Mhm, and I've got a thousand more stories like it," Lisanna grinned. "Erza, Mira, Elfman, and I were all raised in Makarov's family, and Makarov is friends with Natsu's parents and Gray's mom, so we all spent a lot of time together as kids."

"Yeah, Natsu mentioned something about that," Lucy commented. "It must've been great having so much family."

Lisanna rubbed Lucy's hand in comfort. "And now you're here, too," she smiled. "I'm speaking for all of us when I say it's been so nice getting to know you."

"Thanks, I needed to hear that," Lucy grinned. "When I ran away from the fae territory, I was terrified of going anywhere, meeting anyone, accidentally learning their name... I only ever spoke to others when I had to. I didn't think anyone would ever be so friendly with me..." She admitted. "But then I met Natsu and he just pushed all those fears away. He insisted on being my friend, he brought me to meet you guys, and he's shown me all sorts of things I could only dream about cooped up at home." Lucy smiled bright as her heart swelled. "I'm just so happy to have met him."

"Happy to have met who?" Natsu questioned innocently as he strolled back in, but the smile on his face told Lucy he had heard her perfectly. Lucy jumped and flushed brightly as he sat down next to her, grasping her hand and squeezing it. "I'm really happy I met you, too," he told her, grinning widely while his heart thumped loudly.

[traegorn]

Idk what the "similarities between El Día de Muertos and Samhain" anon was trying to ask either, but I can tell you that every single year without fail I see at least one gringo on here (because it's always a gringo for whatever reason) who thinks Día de Muertos originated from Samhain or alternatively Álfablót

I guess they think Mexico is in fucking northern Europe or some shit

It's super confusing for sure.

If there's anything that's been pretty consistent though in my time as an experienced witch who answers questions on the internet it's that suburban white people are constantly trying to find ways to "get permission" to take whatever they want from other cultures -- whether they're open to them or not.

Like, think about how many asks I get about Lilith. I don't even publish all of them. It's remarkable how mad some folks get at the very idea that something's not "for them."

Additionally, at least with this one, there's the whole Margaret Murray influence that we just can't stomp out no matter how hard we try. They're looking for universal-Pagan beliefs in countries separated by an ocean. Whether the origins of the day of the dead were retconned or not, it's either Aztec or Spanish or a fuckin' mix of the two.

An Irish holiday has not entered the chat.

[spnfanficpond]

Weekly Pond Newsletter

Happy New Year, everyone! Wishing fantastic writing mojo for all of our writers and the time to read what we write to all of our readers!

Old Business:

December's New Member Spotlight - We welcomed in some new members last month! Click here to meet them!

Fishing For Treasures at the Ocean - This weekend is FFT weekend at the Ocean, and January's theme is Underappreciated Fics! Check out the @fanficocean to see some great fics from other fandoms. The Pond will be celebrating on the 20th and 21st of this month. This means you have until midnight (Eastern US/Canada time) on the 19th to submit links to all of the SPN fics that you think deserve more love! You can either submit a link via the blog with a note that it is for FFT, or you can drop a link in the #fishing-for-treasures channel in our Discord server!

Secret Santa Fic Exchange - Everyone should have posted their fics by now, so if you haven't, or haven't received your fic from your Secret Santa, contact @mariekoukie6661 and let her know. Some folks have asked for extensions, and she's keeping track of that. So far, she has links for about half of the fics, so if you posted, but haven't gotten a like or a comment or anything from Marie, let her know!

#TweetFicTues prompts - Since we missed last week, we have two sets of prompts for you!

New Business:

Angel Fish Awards - The post with the November and December Angel Fish Awards will go up in a day or so! Keep your eyes peeled! As for the Scoobynatural box giveaway, @mariekoukie6661 submitted the most nominations with a total of SEVEN! She has forfeited most of the box (she only wanted one thing out of it), so the rest will go to @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes, who submitted FIVE nominations. Great job to both for submitting all of those nominations!! (The regular drawing has not yet been done, so that announcement will come soon!)

SPN Rewatch: Fanfic Edition - Next weekend we will have our next Rewatch chat! We will be discussing 1.13 Route 666 and 1.14 Nightmare. Links to episode docs in the Archive should go up before the chat so you can enter your notes before the chat if you want. Stay tuned for announcement posts with the exact date and time!

Manta Rays in the Discord server - This week we have TWO Manta Rays hanging out in the server to chat with you! @spencereliotwinchester will be there on Friday, and @heavenssexiestangel will be there on Saturday after the Rewatch chat!

**Do you want to be a more active member of the Pond? Are you interested in actively supporting other writers and helping to make the Pond a better place for everyone? If you are, then contact one of our admins about getting promoted to Manta Ray!**

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester and @heavenssexiestangel!

[loneberry]

After I finished making a midterm exam, Molly and I went to a secret Japanese tea house. It appears on no map, has no hours, no sign. It is as though it exists, somehow, outside this world. When you enter, you give your phone to the owner to lock in a box for the duration of your visit.

We stayed for nearly 6 hours—sat reading poems, chatting with the eccentric owner about Sufism and the ocean and his peculiar flower arrangements consisting of a mix of living and dead plant matter.

How can I describe it, the strange sensation of being alive, late at night in those dim lights, surrounded by beauty. I got up to look at the wares, inhaled the hinoki essential oil—Max Richter was playing as I stared at blank notecards and imagined writing someone a heartfelt note, writing bravely, from that bewitched and emotionally authentic space I was in. I felt a sudden pang. It was the moment opening, with all its counterfactuals, what could have been, what will never be—how deeply I could feel, in that instant, the texture of my grief.

When I’m in the hustle and bustle of my busy and now quite ordinary life, I think, if only I could really hear the voice that says,

“Jackie, it was not for this that you were created.”

Then I would give away all my things and spend my days in prayer.

Susan Howe writes that for Sarah Edwards, “all works of God are a kind of language or voice to instruct us in things pertaining to calling and confusion.”

“...each soul comes upon the call of God in his word. I read words but don’t hear God in them.”

Did I pray, how long in supplication, with my inner eye fixed on that phantom, the phantom with her eyes stitched shut, limbs covered in oak moss. A dream of the opening of the eyes, the inert limbs now lithe and moving toward you. Ordinary objects and sounds are suddenly strange. That’s when the phantom slips through, when I hear the birds singing in a tree...

The blooming moment. Retrospectively, I am convinced that its condition of possibility was the confiscation of my phone, that it is only when we are unplugged that we can sense these holy emanations.

How calm we were, leafing through the book of Japanese death poems (jisei) in the tea house. What will be the last words I write before dying? For all I know, it could be this, or this. I remembered the dying words of George Mackay Brown: “I see hundreds and hundreds of ships sailing out of the harbour.” I remember the fragments Kafka wrote while dying, “lemonade everything was infinite,” his concern for the peony, the improvised performance—the incantation—I did at the Zinc Bar in 2015 using Kafka’s dying words, how J wept in the audience, then wrote me about the snow:

I am the guy, by the way, who said hi on the street, in the snow, after your reading. … I did indeed cry after your Kafka-Cixous incantation, partly because that phrase has been magic to me my whole life. I read Cixous' novel by that name when I studied with her and Derrida in my twenties... Her seminars were amazing. One day, funnily enough, she gave a seminar on snow in Proust, simply because snow was on the ground in Paris. For all sorts of reasons your whole reading shook and tenderised me deeply. I suppose, with the snow through the tinted glass outside, it will forever be, my imagination of what you read will forever be blanche niege texte.

(standing on the corner in manhattan with that powdery snow i was looking at the flowers when you walked past actually, turned, swivelled, i had needed to get out of the bar because the reading had touched me so much . . . i then went and wandered in the snow for an hour, till i happened on a subway, and back to my friend's in brooklyn . . . i have been thinking more today about how effective your reading was to me. it sort of made me feel i could only read poetry from now on if i was embodied, since what convinced in your reading beyond the obvious was the adjustments to us, the audience, the interruptions, the ability to break off, and then the actual concentration because of the embodiments . . . at most poetry readings i am constantly thinking 'i am at a poetry reading' and can't really get beyond the poem-as-poem-at-reading. when you read i was suddenly completely focused. the bodily resonation was right, a recuperation of grace, so i could listen. like before the internet or something. it returned me all the way to early cixous and feminine writing and what that could still mean, a writing beyond master-works and over-sociality of tact, agua viva, what korine might call 'mistakist' heaven. it was my first time in new york. my last night. stop. for now. cut the flowers.)

[mangofcool]

tma AU where all the Horrors are just streamers in a discord call playing minecraft- and the avatars are their mods

tts message: dude ur chicken farm is so unethical the slaughter: im just efficient ok

the buried, having been lost in giant caves for hours: can someone find me and give me another shulker spiral: I’ll help you (a lie, though they can navigate caves weirdly well), coords? the buried: uh….. negative 20,000, positive 25,500. oh and negative 130 deep. the spiral: … *goes back to building impossibly big maze* the buried: >:( fine

desolation: no the gunpowder is for fireworks. i swear. the vast, who has already stolen all the elytras: hmmmmmmmmmm

the lonely, who has been muted and deafened the whole stream, and only had 1 viewer (their mod), while building in the ocean: hey guys just wanted to let yall know im not dead k bye

the slaughter: hey wanna play manhunt? :3 the hunt: ..no-? the slaughter: TOO LATE START RUNNING BITCH

the end: *quietly turns keep inventory off* :)

the corruption: guys look I made a bee farm! its boring though. maybe i should try working with mycelium…… jane, the moderator: dude look at this mod, it makes bees terrifying an- the corruption: LINK IT N O W jane, linking to malware: :) *they all immediately get banned*

the web, who made the server (the end helps pay for it): guys remember, with the shaders holding a torch emits light, so if ur caving you can- the dark: im going to murder someone- GET THAT TORCH AWAY FROM ME WEB the web: IM NOT ANYWHERE NEAR YOU the stranger: ehehehehhehehe

the eye upon entering the server late: chat what the fuck am I looking at

bonus points the extinction, who somehow got world building tools (probably from the end): chat, whats the best way to destroy everything? no they wont see it coming. no one except end knows im here. no we are not dating. we just live together. SHUT UP!!! MODS GET THEM

[oblonger]

Part 4 of TPiaG Body Swap AU

Next [>]

[<] Previous

Start [O]

@sincerely-sofie We going back to Kip and advancing the plot with this one!

Kip has a chat with his old pals

Kip could feel cracks forming in the walls he was forced to build. Every day it was more questions about Twig and why she wasn't with him.

He told them that she was visiting family, but then they'd ask where, so he said somewhere near lush prairie. Then they would say that 'they thought he said she was near Aegis Cave. Then HE'D say that it's sometimes hard to remember! Then THEY'D say they have friends and that they could send a letter to ask how she's doing! But then HE would say that it's kinda a family reunion thing and that she really doesnt wanna be bothered! Then THEY would ask if he's doing alright! And just!

Ugh...

They were clearly worried about him, and he hated so much that he had to keep lying to them. They've clearly noticed the way he breaks out into a cold sweat whenever they ask about Twig.

Kip was wandering home from the guild after having finished enough jobs to pay for tomorrow's groceries.

The sunset cast everything in an orange glow. The ocean looked like different colored shards of stained glass had been scattered to cover the entire horizon.

But Kip didn't have time to appreciate that. He needed to get home and figure out a reliable cover story.

Suddenly, Kip could hear laughter approaching him.

"Well if it ain't the spineless sport himself!"

Oh GREAT.

Kip looked up and gave a forced smile.

"Skuntank." Kip muttered through grit teeth, as team skull approached him.

Skuntank walked up next to Kip and slapped his back.

"How are you doin' old pal!"

"Well, I was doing good."

Skuntank slapped Kips back again while the three laughed.

Kip's willingness to be nice waned thinner each second he spent around them.

"Look Skuntank. I'd love to stay and chat but-"

"Aww come on!" Skuntank interrupted. "What are you even in such a rush for?"

Kip's false smile stayed, even though it felt increasingly hard to not frown at him.

"I have to make dinner and go to bed."

"Aww, dont be such a stick in the mud mip! I'll take you out to Spinda's and we can have dinner there! How's that!"

Sounds awful, thanks.

"No, I'm good. I really do have to get home."

"Why don't you live a little!" Zubat piped up.

Koffing spoke next. "Yeah! Do something while you're not attached to your mommy's hip!"

Kip was about to snap at Koffing before Skuntank spoke again.

"Speaking of, I heard she's back already. Maybe he's in such a rush because it's past his bedtime!"

The three jerks chortled as Kip felt a bolt of panic rush through him.

"Where, uh. Where did you hear that?" Kip tried to suppress the shaking in his voice.

Thankfully, Skuntank didn't seem to notice, or care, as he sat down to scratch his ear.

"I dunno. I think I overheard someone talking to Keckleon and they mentioned Sunflora or something."

Kip bit down on the inside of his lip.

Kip was about to dismiss it as baseless gossip before Skuntank's face lit up.

"Hey! Why don't we pay swig a visit!"

Kip felt his eye twitch

"Uhh, no I dont think she'd like that!"

Skuntank smirked at him.

"Aww! But it's been so long! Why wouldn't she want to see her old pal Skuntank!"

Because we hate you.

"Uhh. Because she's sick! And she doesn't want to see anyone right now. It's a pretty bad cold."

Skuntak raised an eyebrow.

Please believe me, please believe me, please believe me-

"Ohh!" Skuntank slapped his back again, it was starting to sting.

"Well why didn't you say so! We'll go tell Chimechow and tell her she needs a checkup"

Kip felt a chill coming on from all his sweat.

In perhaps a voice that was more desperate that he'd hoped, Kip said "I thought you were banned from entering the guild!"

Skuntank gave a nervous chuckle. "Ah, well we can just catch her at Spinda's diner then!"

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO-

Kip gave a chuckle that sounded like it was on the verge of a sob. "I really don't think that's necessary! She's fine! She just needs to stay in bed for a while! You don't need to do that!"

Skuntank slapped his back again. "Aww, don't be so modest, slip! What'r friends for anyway!"

Kip choked out some half words about how they shouldn't bother Chimecho, but it fell on deaf ears as the three sauntered off towards Spinda's diner. Cackling the whole way.

Kip stood there in the middle of the street before sitting down.

...

Frick.

Frick frick frick frick frick.

Great job man. You were too nice to them and now Twig is going to die.

This is your fault.

Kip slowly trudged his way back home, taking a detour through a forest trail to delay it as much as possible. Tears were silently running down his face the entire time.

He kept his eyes locked to the ground. What was he going to tell her? That what Darkrai said was right? That all of this would be for nothing?

He felt sick. This entire thing was a pointless exercise in misery.

Every step felt heavy. He'd ruined everything. And it was because he tried to give a second chance to a scumbag that didn't deserve it!

Dumb, naive, stupid, idiot-

Kip's thoughts were derailed when a ball gently bumped into his side, he turned to see a little Kricketot jogging over to him.

"Sorry mister! That's mine! Can I have it back?"

The kid didn't even wait for Kip to respond before grabbing the ball that was nearly half his size.

Kip heard someone shout "Ricky!" From behind a few trees.

A Beedrill emerged from behind them.

"What did I say about wandering off!" She scolded. The Kricketot flinched a bit before muttering an apology.

The Beedrill huffed, before she saw Kip and her eyes widened. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't even see you there!" She landed on the ground. "I'm Beedrill and this is Kricketot! We just moved in from-..." Beedrill looked at Kip and her expression became concerned. "Are... are you okay honey?"

Kip forgot that he was still crying while he stared at her like she just grew a second head.

Kip looked down at the ground.

He had an idea.

He had an idea that didn't sound like it would ruin everything again.

It was an idea that might actually work.

Kricketot yelped in suprise when Kip spun around and started sprinting as fast as he could to the post office.

~~

Twig was getting worried. It was much later at night than Kip usually returned. Maybe he got stopped by someone while out and about?

She was about to leave the home to look for him when she could hear Kip huffing as he ran back towards the entrance. He nearly tumbled down the stairs as he entered, and then proceeded to start rummaging through things, looking for something.

She noticed the red around his eyes. A clear sign that he'd been crying.

"Kip! What's wrong?"

He didn't respond as he pulled out an envelope, a paper and some ink. He took the things over to the table, sat down, pulled out some papers from his satchel and began writing something.

Darkrai growled, being awoken by the noise. He pulled his blanket a little more over his head. "Cease that infernal racket."

Twig shot a glare at him before looking at Kip again. His focused eyes not leaving the paper.

"Kip, would you tell me what's going on? I'm worried."

"We're moving." Kip spat out. He continued writing.

Twig flinched. Even Darkrai seemed a bit surprised

"What?! Why?!" Twig asked.

Kip didn't respond as he continued to furiously pen his letter.

"Kip! This is your home!"

Kip hesitated for a moment before he continued.

"Doesn't matter. It's not safe here anymore."

Twig stammered as Kip finished writing and wiped the ink off his foot.

"Where would we even get the money for a different place?!"

Kip folded the letter and shoved in into the envelope. "You never spent any of yours. You could probably just buy the house outright."

Twig stammered again before nearly shouting his name.

Kip gave a harsh sigh and looked up at her. "What?"

Twig didn't say anything and just gestured to herself.

Kip's eyes went wide and he slapped his hand against his forehead.

"Shoot. I can't withdraw your money, can I..."

"Dude." Twig leaned forward. "Can you please just tell me what's wrong?"

Kip sharply inhaled through grit teeth, and held his head in his hands, propped up on the table.

"I screwed up, Okay? Skuntank heard rumors that you were back from some trip and I screwed up and said you were sick and now he's going to tell Chimecho and..."

Kip shut his eyes, forcing any tears back, before glaring at the ground next to him. "We can't stay here anymore."

Twig was stunned, she couldn't think of anything she could say.

Kip sighed again. "Does Duskull only do withdrawls in person?" He asked.

Twig tilted her head at him.

"Right. You can't.... Ugh."

Twig was worried that Kip might give himself an ulcer with how he'd been acting.

Kip's eyes widened a bit and he turned his head towards Darkrai.

Oh no.

"Darkr-"

"Leave me out of this." Darkrai snarled.

Kip looked the angriest she thinks she ever saw him.

"You are going to help us." He demanded.

"I refuse."

Kip shouted. "Why!?"

"I lothe the both of you."

Kip was red with anger. He propped himself up on the table.

"Don't you want to live!?"

Darkrai's tail snapped and crackled a deeper shade of purple than it already had been. He pushed himself up on all fours and spun around to face Kip.

"I NEVER WANTED YOUR PITY!!!"

Twig launched herself towards Darkrai and grabbed him by the neck, pinning him to the ground. Her eyes burned with a barely restrained fury.

"You are going to shut up and do what he says, or I swear to Arceus, Cresselia will be the least of your worries." Twig hissed.

Darkrai glared back at Twig. Smoke poured out of both sides of his mouth.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Darkrai sneered at her.

"Release me." He growled.

Twig let go. Her eyes never left Darkrai as he stood up to walk into the kitchen while he rubbed his neck. His deep purple tail flame having a few bright green embers fly out.

She heard him lie down on the floor in there.

Twig turned to look at Kip.

Twig's eyes widened as she saw that Kip's were wet with tears

"Kip-."

He raised a hand. "No, stop." Kip closed his eyes and a few tears escaped. He took a shaky breath. "I just-. I just need some sleep."

Kip walked over to his bed and layed down. Facing away from Twig.

Twig stared at him before layed down in her own bed, staring at the ceiling. Wishing she had never stopped Cresselia.

[sahara-solaris-solace]

Supa Strikas Incorrect 3 ( Hydra )

Hydra managed to tie the score 2- 2 with Supa Strikas in the floating stadium.

Shane Finn: Finally! Our pure hard work paid off!! I can’t believe it!!

Joe Momoa: Let’s hit the showers! Then we can hit the nearby restaurant that serves great Thai!

The guy with darker shade of blue hair: Yeah. I’m sweat as hell!

Skipper: C’mon, Liquido! We’re heading for the showers!

Skipper stopped when he saw Liquido staring at the end side of the ocean. He rushed to him to find Liquido staring at two guys tried to flirt with North Shaw.

Skipper: Man! We’re going to a nearby restaurant to celebrate!

Liquido: Wow! North Shaw has people for hookup!

Skipper: …. No offense, Man. You’re too intimidating for people.

Liquido: Chill, Cap! ‘ Switch from distraught to a sly smile’ I have my ways to get laid!!!

Later on, at night, at a restaurant in East Malaysia.

Joe Momoa: Everyone seems to have a great time! These seafoods are off the hook!! ‘As he gulped on a battered prawn’

Skipper: Yeah! ‘He looked at his left to see Shane Finn having a slim G/ N person straddling his lap as he kissed them heatedly’. I hope Shane Finn is not too intoxicated!

White Ripples: Relax! Coach gave us 4 days off for winning against Cognito, Cosmos and draw with Supa Strikas! We deserve a break, Cap!

The other Hydra players continued to eat, chat and get intoxicated. Shane Finn had already left the restaurant with the person for more ‘private session’ in his arms as he gave them his portion of cash.

Skipper: Wait, where’s Liquido??

The guy with darker shade of blue hair: Last I checked, he tried to flirt with a waiter but he backed out due to his intimidating demeanor.

Ursula: ‘While drinking a second glass of Martini’ He needs to tone down if he wants to properly get laid! One time a guy punched him for mistaking him for being a creep.

White Ripples: Gnarly! Another one Liquido got blasted in the ocean for trying to kiss a poor guy..

Skipper: I better go check on him!

Skipper left as he roamed around the beach to search for his reckless teammate.

Familiar voice: Hey, Skipper!

He turned to see Shakes and Blok behind him, stopping to catch their breathes.

Shakes: We’re looking for North! We haven’t seen him since the end of match! We will go back by tomorrow morning! Have you seen him??

Skipper: Last I saw him, two guys are -

All of them turned to each other with horrified looks before they dashed to a deserted spot.

The trio hid behind the bushes as they gapped in horror.

Liquido: That’s it! Take it like a champ!

North Shaw: What the f- You ambushed me, knocked me unconscious, tied me and now you tried to make me enter-

Liquido: Yeah! No one gets to screw you but me! C’mon!!! You’re such a kook!

North Shaw: Kook?! I’ll give you the ‘kook’ experience to shut you up!!!

The trio looked at each other as Skipper nodded at them to leave them alone.

The next morning

Coach: Where is North Shaw?

Coach Del Aqua: And where is Liquido?

The two exchanged concerned looks before they dashed out of the stadium to find their impulsive players.

North Shaw: COACH!!!! HELP!!!!!

Both of them dashed to the source of sound and gapped when they see a tied up North Shaw on a chair with a sleepy Liquido who straddled him with a smile, both BARE!!!

Liquido: Best ‘Kook’ experience ever!!

The shout of NO from their respective Coach sends chills and annoyance to the other players as they knew what had happened.