#every team must have a chance to win every game

[ynscrazylife]

seekers get stitches (poly!marauders x slytherin!seeker!reader)

In your opinion, the Marauders are arseholes. They were tolerable as first years, even as second years, but was they grew up, they only got more annoying as their pranks got bigger and bigger. It doesn’t help that they seem to hate all Slytherins, which is the house you belong to. You understand that yes, many of the students have given the house a bad name, but it’s not all of you! Yet somehow, you frequently ended up on the unfortunate end of many of their pranks.

Now, you’ve had the chance to stand up to them, being the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch Team this season. James is the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, giving the Marauders even more of a reason to dislike you. James and Sirius even go as far as to hang around during your team’s practice time, booing you or making jokes at your expense from the stands.

Well, it’s the semi-finals. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Whoever wins this will go up against Ravenclaw for this year’s Quidditch Cup. Everyone is talking about this game — Remus even put his book down to pay attention. Both teams’ chasers have been scouring points, but the crowd’s eyes are locked onto you and James. You can feel hundreds of stares lasered on your back as you race around the pitch. When you finally spot the golden blur of the snitch, you don’t think twice before racing towards it. James follows you and soon, you’re quite literally neck and neck.

“Just give up now, Y/LN! You’re not gonna catch it,” James yells over the wind.

His words vaguely register in your mind, but you don’t pay attention. Everything is riding on this. You’ll either return to the common room as your house’s hero to pat on the back or their villain to torment.

“What, no comeback?” James prods.

You grunt, stretching your hands out. The snitch’s wings flutter against your fingertips. You lean forward as far as possible, one shaky hand remaining on the broom, you’re so close.

But so is James. His hand joins yours. Curse his tall stature, you think. It’s just not fair!

You swear you’re about to have it in your hand when—a bludger beams your shoulder, knocking you sideways and directly into James. The snitch flies away as the both of you fall, tumbling straight towards the ground. Lights out.

//

When you open your eyes, you find the faces of a couple friends staring back down at you. They tell you that you’re in the hospital wing after a Quidditch accident, with a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and a broken ankle. Madame Pomfrey used a spell to set your shoulder, but you still need to stay in bed and take potions for your injuries, requiring a longer stay here.

“Who caught the snitch?” You ask, the memories hazy.

“I did.”

You turn your head, only to see James Potter lying in the bed next to you. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are sitting by him and they wave. James’ nose, arm, and leg are all bandaged up.

“Caught it right before you knocked into me,” James elaborates.

Your stomach churns, realizing why only your friends are here and not your team. You lost the game for them, they must be disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, unsure of what you’re supposed to say to that.

“Don’t be, it’s the bludger’s fault. James is just being difficult,” Remus says, waving his hand. Out of the three of them, he’s definitely the nicest.

//

As the days go on, Sirius and Remus are there every day. Your friends aren’t. They visit a couple more times, then they stop. They’re busy, they have classes, you understand. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. Oftentimes, you end up accidentally listening to the Marauders’ conversations. James gives Sirius and Remus his plans for pranks, the other two update them on what’s going on around the castle.

They visit a lot.

One afternoon, you wake up from a nap to find them visiting again, though, and talking about you.

“Isn’t it weird that her friends barely visit her?”

“Haven’t seen her team around either. Thought Slytherins cared about their own.”

“Must suck for her.”

“Yeah.”

Your nap wasn’t particularly good, with the uncomfortable mattress and scratchy sheets. You open your eyes, frowning at the trio, in a bad mood. “You know, I don’t need your pity,” you say.

Three heads snap towards you, all looking like deer in headlights (you have no clue that for James, it’s truer than you think).

“It’s not - we’re not pitying you. It’s, uh, empathy,” Sirius rushes to cover them.

You roll your eyes. “Uh-huh,” you say, not believing him. You shake your head, tired of lying in this bed and being in pain and having the three of them sit next to you day after day after day. You decide you’re done here, your arm’s in a sling, your ankle’s almost 100% healed, it’s fine.

You throw the blanket aside, standing up, only to stumble. It’s not your ankle, it’s your head. Damn concussion.

“Woah, woah,” Remus says, both him and Sirius getting up to approach you. “You should sit back down.”

“I’m fine,” you say stubbornly, taking a couple more unbalanced steps only for Sirius to grasp at your arm.

“Come on, don’t make us tell Pomfrey on you, it’d really hurt my reputation,” Sirius says, smiling.

You snatch your arm away, anger flaring up. “Like I give a bloody hell about your reputation!” You exclaim.

“Hey, what’s the problem?” Sirius asks, putting his hands up.

“My problem? You guys are the ones who have a problem with me! You’re always asses to me, then you talk about me behind my back . . . I don’t even see why you care where I go or what I do. I’m a Slytherin, remember?” You say.

That quiets the Marauders. They’re not sure how to respond because, well, you’re right. Slytherins are easy to hate, so they hate them.

“Y/L/N, back in bed.”

Crap. It’s Pomfrey. You sigh and do what he says. The Marauders don’t say anything else.

//

After a couple more days, James is out of the hospital wing, managing to talk Pomfrey into releasing him. You’re still stuck there, as the concussion’s giving you trouble.

It’s lonely without their chatter. As much as they annoy you, you miss it. You miss them. Just a little bit. When they’re not hating on Slytherins, they’re . . . Nice. Fun.

It’s just your luck that they come around again, to visit you.

“Hey,” James says, Remus and Sirius behind you.

You huff. “Hi,” you say, making a tight line with your lips. What are they doing here? They don’t care.

“We wanted to see how you were doing and, uh, talk, if we can?” Remus says, politely smiling at you.

“If it’s more bullshit on pitying me—” you start.

“It’s not. We don’t like Slytherins, okay?” Sirius says, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to you. James and Remus follow.

You take a breath and stare, waiting for the explanation.

“A lot of them believe in all the Death Eater shit,” James says.

“But not all,” you point out.

James nods. “Not all. But we’re pranksters. We prank Slytherins because it’s easy. We also prank other houses but you’re right, we like to target Slytherins. There’s no reason for that other than that we can. It’s-it’s easy to not like them. To convince ourselves that they deserve it. For you, it was easy to . . . To not like you, either. Quidditch rivalry, right? But you have a point. We shouldn’t . . . We shouldn’t be so, ah, mean to all of them. The ones who aren’t into the Death Eater shit,” he explains.

You’re a bit surprised, a bit suspicious. Is this really the truth?

“Not so easy to convince yourself anymore, is it?” You ask.

“No, it’s not,” Sirius affirms.

“We brought cards,” Remus offers, taking a deck out of his pockets. “Figured you were pretty bored in here.”

“Prove it to me that you’re being honest, then I’ll think about playing cards with you,” you say, putting on a brave face. You have no clue that if they’ll actually do it or not.

But they agree to your terms. They start being real, not targeting random Slytherins. They stop being mean.

Eventually, you do agree to play cards with them. You’re almost out of the hospital wing, too. In fact, it’s your last night there, you’ve just beat them all in the game, when you decide to ask them why. What compelled them to come seek you out after James got out of the hospital wing, if not just feeling bad?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asks, grinning. “We’ve all fallen for you, love.”

That sparks the start of something new for the four of you.

[unlosts]

Two Pair.

Summary: After a rough case Spencer keeps you company while the rest of the BAU sleeps.

A/N: I posted and then deleted this right away, but here it is again. I'm working on a couple of longer one shots but I still wanted to get something shorter out.

“Okay, whatcha got?” You ask, eyes narrowed taking in the lanky 6’ something man sitting across from you, his expression unreadable.

“I have a two pair” He says, sounding resigned, probably already well aware that he’s about to lose.

For the second time in a row. 

“Ha! A straight flush! Read em’ and weep doc” You said smugly, and perhaps a tad too loudly since what comes next is a loud shushing noise from the lump in the couch formerly known as Derek Morgan. 

“Sorry” You whisper back. It’s around 2am and most of the team is sound asleep, even Hotch who’s usually the last one out, the only ones still awake were you; whose adrenaline was still pumping strong after a car chase resulting in a very near miss, and a very much dead suspect. It had left you jittery and off balance, the sensation of failure hanging heavy on your shoulders and leaving you unable to close your eyes for even a few minutes, much less sleep. 

Spencer seemed to be in a similar state even though he had been left at the station, working on the geographical profile when you headed out. 

So three rounds and two winning hands later here you sat, no closer to sleep than before but his company was soothing.

Spencer operated on a set of carefully crafted routines, from his mornings in the bullpen at the BAU (One coffee with at least four suggars, eight crossword puzzles and at the very least a couple of newspapers before he could start on the seemingly never ending pile of case files haunting his desk), to the post case decompression routine (A chess match against himself or a poker game, usually against you). 

You found it soothing to watch, the expected repetition letting you know that you could relax, that everything was over with. 

So here you sat, in the back of the plane with only Spence’s long legs crammed in the smaller seat in front of you, knees bumping yours every time you so much as breathed.

His book light was the only thing illuminating your poker game and the harsh shadows cast over the table did make it harder to distinguish the numbers (the fact that you were refusing to use your glasses didn’t help either). 

A small stack of peanuts sits between you both, acting as poker chips. 

Despite your clear gloating Spencer just smiles at you, seemingly equally pleased, and keeping his losing hand close to his chest. 

“So, feeling any better?” He asks while shuffling the deck. You go towards the kitchen, softly squeezing Spencer's shoulder in gratitude as you pass by him. The tense wiry muscle underneath his soft purple shirt gives in to your touch and you linger for a second, giving him a small smile before you go. 

“Much, in fact i’m going to get a cup of tea and hopefully doze off for a couple of hours” You reply from the kitchen. 

“Remind me again of the chances of winning twice in a row?” Chimes in Derek unexpectedly from the couch, his eyes are still closed and even though you can’t see him he’s sporting a knowing smirk. 

“Um well it’s about 4% actually” Answers Spencer awkwardly, giving the kitchen a furtive look to make sure you’re not really paying attention to the conversation. 

“Huh, guess I must have gotten pretty lucky then” You say, too busy making your tea to hear Derek's response to Spencer, quiet but still teasing exclamation of “My man”

But when you did return to your seat right next to him you couldn’t help but notice that his cheeks were a tad pinker than they had been before. 

[haikyu-mp4]

it’s a rainy day at summer camp. one of the few evenings that greeted you with bad weather instead of the setting sun, and the result was Fukurodani’s volleyball team gathered around a small tv and taking turns in a Mario Kart tournament.

you walked into the room with an order from the coach to tell everyone to quiet down, and was intrigued by the choice of game and their lack of talent in it. “you guys suck.”

everyone who wasn't playing at the moment turned abruptly, some squinting suspiciously and some laughing. “think you could do better?”

and so you were thrown into the tournament, and oh boy did you knock them off their pedestals. they didn’t stand a chance.

it earned you almost everyone’s desserts from dinner the day after, and you happily munched on pudding cup after pudding cup while they pouted about it. you shared plenty of them with the other girls as well, and you all enjoyed their defeat thoroughly.

fast forward one year later, Bokuto has made friends with Nekoma’s captain, making Fukurodani and Nekoma closer than they were with the other teams.

when Bokuto is particularly annoyed with Kuroo’s taunting after he missed some spikes in a practice game, he challenges him to a round of Mario Kart after dinner. Fukurodani vs Nekoma, choose your fighter style.

Kuroo walks into Fukurodani’s room that evening, carrying Kenma along while the setter is still playing on his console and not even paying attention. the captain looks smug, confident in his best friend’s ability to win. until he sees Bokuto standing with his arms crossed and shielding their chosen fighter.

a couple of the others from Nekoma’s team had joined, curious as to why Bokuto would challenge them in video games when he knew Kenma was there. “why do you look so smug?” Kuroo asks suspiciously.

“because we brought our secret weapon,” he answered, dramatically moving to the side and gesturing towards you. you sat patiently on a pillow, waving at the other team and smiling brightly.

“hi, guys!”

Kuroo laughed, letting go of Kenma and waving back at you. “y/n, fancy seeing you here.”

Bokuto rudely pressed his hand into Kuroo’s face. “none of that, don’t distract our player before the match!”

and while they fought, Kenma sat down beside you, finally turning off his console as you held out the other controller for him. “making me second player, hm?” you laughed at his remark, nodding.

“home base is always first player,” you teased. Konoha patted you on the back and smirked at Kenma.

“you don’t stand a chance.”

he did stand a chance. it was a close race, and you must admit you broke a sweat using every little trick you could think of.

however, it was just a chance. one he didn’t master, and you ended up with a clear victory after a mystery box gifted you with three glorious red shells on the second round, ruining any head start he might have gained.

the whole of Fukurodani’s team got up and cheered, many shaking your shoulders or ruffling your hair to praise your efforts. you looked to the side, ready to taunt Kenma a bit, but he was already staring at you. his catlike eyes made you flustered, and you quickly looked away. “I’m going to bed. good game, Kenma!”

Kenma watched the highlight reel after you left, and Kuroo had to practically drag him out of there as he could barely accept his loss. red shells don’t always mean you win. how you use them matters, and you use them perfectly. the way you drifted as well was beyond any technique he had seen before in real life.

the day after, Kenma comes over to you table with his dessert as a peace offering, and sits down across from you with his head down. “so you’re a gamer, what else do you play?”

“not really a gamer, my cousin just always brought Mario Kart for family holidays.”

Kenma stared at the table for two minutes in silence as you continued eating your lunch and chatting with your team’s other managers until he finally broke out of his trance. “can you teach me?”

“sure, catboy.” you were already eating the pudding cup, giving him a teasing wink now that he seemed so shy. this was the start of a blooming friendship.

masterlist

/when me n @cottonlemonade start brainstorming, great things happen

/this is a drabble in my head but it’s way too long for that… also, what do you think nekoma owes fukurodani after losing??

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. 2)

— The hastily written during work break edition —

I get messages from the stars, when you’re making love to me — Messages From the Stars // The Rah Band

i go to college to get more knowledge but why does college interfere with my tumblr writing 😔 I’m not even at school yet and I’ve gotta start kicking into academic gear..

In light of some recent episode developments. I think I’ll rescind the headcannon that his name is Benjicot Davos. It’s just Davos now. (Lowkey… I thought HBO would just honestly write out the character of Benjicot… I was apparently wrong when they just mentioned him ig) anyways new headcannon Davos has a little brother, surprise. Ben’s gotta learn unhinged behavior from somewhere after all.. and what better way to start than with his “cool” older brother.

You know that text post that goes like “Have you ever argued with your girlfriend?” “Nope. She tells me to shut up and I do.” That was actually a text convo between Davos and his friend. He’s dumb, but not stupid. If you tell him to do something he’s doing it (as long as it’s legal… then again he’s really not the type to listen to the law)

He likes slow and domestic mornings. Getting up late, brushing your teeth together. He’ll flick water at you as you’re brushing your hair or doing your skincare routine with the most dopey and tired smile. He knows he’s won when you stop what you’re doing to stare at him with an unamused look. He washes his face like a lunatic though (both hands just furiously rubbing his face with little to no product). He’ll make the coffee and you turn on the tv. Pure silence except for the background noise of a news channel or show. Don’t even get him started on the part where you both fall back asleep on the couch as the sun rises and sunlight funnels in through the curtains. Pure bliss.

He LOVES girls night. How did he get an invite? He didn’t! But he’s quiet and normal, so he gets the girls night pass. It could be just you, or a few friends, even a group. But Davos will be there using the face masks, eating the finger food, drinking the fancy drinks. His girls night pass gets revoked though because he does not pay attention to the talk. He’s too busy devouring the charcuterie board to care about drama! …oh that’s the whole point of girls night? Oh… “Oh—and we like her right? …she’s problematic? …So we hate her? Oh… okay yeah she sounded weird—“

“Unique” pet names. There’s always the classics (love, darling, cutie, honey) but he’s got a few under his belt that turn heads, in a bad way maybe. He starts off pretty tame, he uses “my lady” a lot (chivalry-pilled). “Ma’am” too. “My lady” has a chance to devolve into “my liege” :/ Davos calls you pookie and you call him pookie back. You’re both pookie what can I say (sometimes uses the shortened ‘pooks’). Every single pet name he uses must have ‘my’ in front of it. “Do you want to get that pizza from that one place, my lady? Yeah? Okay—No I can pay don’t worry about it, my lovely.”

If you’re not a gamer, but you like to play in both casual and competitive games with him. The only reason you’re having a pretty good game in a competitive game is because Davos is fighting for his life to give you guys the W. Sometimes you’re a little lost, sometimes you clutch up. But usually it’s him, keyboard furiously clicking, eyes darting around his monitor. His face is literally in the monitor he’s so locked in. And you’re just in the call like (“Aw dang it I died.. woww you make it look so easy!”) “Me? No you’re doing work too—look at all those assists and kills you got. You’re pulling your weight too. You get ‘em low I clean up. It’s these other fuckers on our team that aren’t—“ (he went 30/14/5 and you went 10/21/16)

Regardless of your skills in video games, he gets so hype for you in them. Casual or competitive, he’s screaming about every single achievement you or you both make. A clutch round you win all by yourself? GG EZ TELL EM TO GO NEXT THEY DON’T WANT YOUR SMOKE. You build something in your shared Minecraft world? Stunning, beautiful. The architecture is to die for. The redstone? You did that all yourself? He would’ve thought you followed a tutorial it was so good!

Can eat, will eat. He’s a big strong boy, he’s gotta eat. Which means if you ask for Taco Bell or McDonald’s at 2 am? He’s gonna get some with you! You can honestly just text him an order and he’ll understand right away. This turns into you both driving around late at night, music blasting and you feeding him fries. Speaking of food; he’s a heavy believer in the ‘boyfriend tax’. He will steal a sip of your drink or a bite of your food, regardless of consequences.

I do believe Davos is sassy. It’s like dangerous levels of sass he gives you sometimes. It makes you do a double take. Side-eyes, eye rolls, scoffs, dramatic sighs. He is a drama queen.

How he deals with others who bother you in public can range between normal and not normal. Davos has a few options that run through his mind when you encounter a catcaller or unwanted advances. He can either tell the guy to fuck off, start a fight, start barking at him. He will bark, he has barked. It startled you more than the offending guy. But also Davos knows when to get serious, when to actually deal with someone who’s invading your space or not leaving you alone. He’s a tall dude, he works out. He can be pretty imposing. And he’s not afraid to be the first one to hit or push, especially if the offending man has gotten on his nerves too. And not just because they were trying to flirt or shoot a shot at you.

A big aquarium date guy. Or any date really. Actually, any way he can hang out or be near you is considered a date to him and something that makes his day much better. He likes spending time with you, and he likes showing you off to the public. He gets to walk next to you and say “that’s my date! They’re on a date with me!” It’s perhaps the best part of the whole day, being able to be seen right with you. Even if you’re just a passing couple, two people in the midst of a whole crowd, it’s still something to Davos. And that something tells everyone that you’re his.

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

One thing I feel like we don't talk about enough is the fact that Haymitch was 16 when he won the Second Quarter Quell, against 47 other children, 12 Careers among them.

We often see him portrayed as a drunk and a lazy bastard, but the amount of skill and cunning it takes to survive THE HARDEST HUNGER GAMES IN HISTORY. No one understands how he's managed to survive an arena with twice the tributes, or even figure out how the poison works. But Haymitch just doesn't trust the excess, the berries, the green. And he's lived with hunger before. He can take it for a while. When he finds his first body in the arena, the perfectly brown nuts still in his hands, he decides not to eat anything but what's in his backpack. Then, after killing two Careers and being saved from death by Maysilee, they team up and figure out a system to safely drink the rainwater and kill other tributes and scavenge from their backpacks, to make sure that they don't die from poisoning. And being skilled enough at fighting to pressure the Career into throwing her ax at him. Even with half his guts hanging out she apperently wanted none of the smoke. And not only understanding from previous Games, apperently, that the arena ends somewhere, but using it to his advantage. It is astounding.

Then he comes back and the Capitol kills everyone he cares about. This 16 year old boy is surviving the most brutal onslaught in the history of the Games and comes home, traumatized, hurt beyond belief, both mentally and physically - seeing an ally and friend die in his arms, almost dying from taking an axe to the stomach, having to kill no less than 3 Careers - only to see his family and girlfriend murdered.

And as if that isn't enough, he has to spend the next 24 years watching his tributes, all of them the same age he was or younger, die in the arena, all alone. There is no one else to help him shoulder that grief. He has the worst district, where no one ever wins, so he sees 2 children he mentors die every year, and the mother of the girl who saved his life in the arena is still around.

But wait! It gets worse! After Peeta and Katniss show fighting spirit and a desire to come back home alive, he has to choose which tribute he will try to help. He puts his money on Katniss, which is understandable, but still heartbreaking.

Then, they somehow both make it out alive. Notwithstanding the roller coaster of emotions Haymitch must have been on when they pulled that last stunt with the berries - getting them both back, then maybe getting neither back- he has no time to grieve for the 23 children who died, but must immediately go to Katniss to try and save her from the same fate he encountered for his own stunt with the force field.

Then he hears about the Third Quarter Quell, which involves Katniss and either him Peeta or having to fight all his friends. And with Katniss begging him to take Peeta's place when they reap him, all the trauma must've come flooding back.

He is also set to lose the two people he cares about - Peeta and Katniss - to the regime, after snatching them from the jaws of death. When he finally has someone else to share the burden of being a mentor, the Capitol immediately takes that from him, forcing him to watch his comrades die one by one trying to protect Katniss and Peeta to keep them alive, all to give Haymitch a chance to pull them out.

We sort of forget about him a little in the third book, but Haymitch loses absolutely everything he has to the regime. Everything. His innocence, his family, his home, and Katniss and Peeta. He has to topple an entire regime and is a member of a far-reaching conspiracy while he can barely function from all the ( additional ) trauma.

I feel like Susanne Collins used him as a mirror to reflect just how gruesome the Games are, and how this spectacle ultimately damages people so badly they become a shell of themselves. Anyone else thinking about celeberty culture?

When looking at him differently, one cannot escape the notion that he resembles a war veteran, too, forced to kill people to come back and then being lauded, but not helped. Especially him saying "there are no victors, only survivors" and the mind numbing substance abuse in order to avoid dealing with the death of two innocent children every year and everything he went through in the arena.

But not only that; he still has the strenght to fight back, organize a coup, be a mentor. Presented with the first real chance he gets to pull someone through the hell of the Games and come back out, he jumps. Even though that means reliving the horrible games again.

Haymitch deserves a lot more praise, and I think Collins presented him really well as an idea of just how evil the Capitol really is. And how wickedly smart Haymitch Albernathy can be, if he chooses to.

I am honestly suprised that he's still alive and in generally okay condition, despite being a raging alcoholic. Him raising geese and looking after Katniss after they come back from District 13 gives me a little peace.

[goldsbitch]

That one missed lecture

part 3 to That one Christmas flight

summary: After a missed moment, both parties are trying to contemplate what to do next.

warnings: crushing hard, cheesy af, swear words I guess, typos probably, slow burn let's just admit that

"A what?"

Surely she must have misheard Teresa. Yes. Lando has been on Y/N's mind so much these past few days that she has officially lost it.

"Sorry, not what. Who?"

"I dunno, apparently this like formula racer or something. I don't really understand it - so like we were at Al Bricco right, as usual. And there was this guy who seemed to be super into that sport and he totally freaked out. Like, the racer guy just went in and immediately left, kind of embarrassing. He like proper asked for a photo and shit. And after the racer guy left, this dude was so high off that he paid for everyone's drinks at the bar. Was nice! Shame you had the thing you had, or whatever."

Yes. Or whatever. Y/N made up some excuse for last evening, so mundane even she forgot what it was.

It was Monday afternoon after the Imola weekend. The philosophy lesson was about to start in few minutes. Y/N cursed Teresa for keeping this one tiny detail about yesterday. For fuck's sake, they'd already had two classes together today! Plenty of opportunity to mention this. Nobody famous ever came to Bologna. Y/N would expect Teresa to make it a bigger deal. But then again, usually it would not be a big deal for neither of you.

"Yeah, shame I didn't order a bottle instead of a glass," Teresa proclaimed.

"Did you see him? The racer guy?"

"Yeah. He looked like a guy, honestly nothing special about him."

"Do you know like his name or the team?"

"No, the fuck would I know that. You're focusing on the wrong thing - you missed a fun night with free drinks."

Y/N felt like her mind just got the DRS.

There were 20 drivers on the grid - the chances were low. Y/N overcame her initial shock and tried to focus on the lecture that was about to start.

For some reason Hegel's Lord-bondsman dialectic was not able to win in the battle for Y/N's attention today. Since Teresa was of little help, Y/N turned to social media. Surely, this fan must have shared his photo online. And then, once she finally discovers the photo of Ocon or Tsunoda, she will be abel to return back to her actual real problems instead of her schoolgirl crush.

They say if you need to find the "corpus delicti" these days, ask a woman to scan social media. Source more powerful than FBI.

Y/N had to excuse herself after staring at a photo of Lando's fake smile while standing in her favorite bar. Pacing around was required right now. After all, show us a problem that can't be fixed by maniacally walking around the block seven hundred times.

In her favorite bar. Lando was in her bar. In a bar, where she would have been, hadn't it been for her actually trying to track down Lando. Out of all the places on this gigantic planet. In. Her. Favorite. Bar. Must have been some random game of destiny. Y/N was getting real mad at destiny. She cursed the stupid Christmas tradition, she cursed ever getting herself involved with formula 1.

She cursed herself for missing him. In both meanings of the word.

//

Lando forgot when exactly had his burner account turned completely Bologna centered. But it was impossible to escape that city. So he decided to leave that account be for a while.

His fitness trainer must have been happy with him. Lando burned his the tension and confused mix of feelings in his session like his life depended on it. He went on to stream in his free time to check in on his friends, who seemed a bit confused on where his head had been lately. In the course of few days, life got back on track. Y/N slowly leaving his mind and he parting with it peacefully. Yet every was covered under a gray cloud of nothingness.

It was a simulator day for him. He was supposed be testing new configurations. Lando was never really good at simulators, it completely lacked the realness of it, so he had to push himself to stay professional and be a proper teammate.

"I'm just not sure about this breaking set up," he commented quietly, perhaps even more to himself than others after missing another turn. His engineer however picked up on it and started to get into super detailed explanation on why they wanted him to use this configuration and did not fail to mention how great it job it did for Oscar this morning. Lando simply nodded and did not bother to engage in eye contact. He was in no mood for this debate and kept staring at the screen. Just let it all flow by him. This engineer had been on the team for quite some time, so he did not hesitate to try and cheer him up.

"Come on, man. You can't just sit there. The car won't start if you don't go for it, you know?" he said as a joke. When Lando did not respond, he began to second guess his judgement. "Or we could just take a break, what ever suits you."

Lando took a deep breath. "No, you're right. I can't just sit here and do nothing." He turned to his engineer with a different more energetic look. "When I crash, we just start again next time, am I right?"

"That's my boy!"

//

Y/N woke up the next morning to suspiciously large amount of notifications on her Instagram account. Someone liked every single one of her pictures and few of those where she was tagged and commented on one of her selfies "nice". Curious to what this was about, she went and checked the profile out. The only thing present on it was a black and white photo with some random numbers and letters. Ok, so nothing. Just some random weirdo or a drunken joke of one the uni friends. Because for a single moment she allowed her intrusive thoughts in - and expected Lando's account to be the one liking it.

Contemplating breaking the rule and reaching out to him was the only thing occupying her yesterday's evening. But what good would that do, his account probably being run by some PR people who would dismiss it as just another fangirl trying her chances. She thought a photo might be more helpful, but it was just the same thing all over again. No, she missed her chance and it was time to start moving on.

Her usual morning brain fog breaking espresso at a coffee bar in the centre did it's job well. A lot of paragraphs she was due to write were waiting on her. Only one lecture in the afternoon. A nice calm day to spend in one of the libraries. She loved Bologna. Great food and ever-present history has cured many crushes through out the ages.

"also nice" -another notification from the same account. Y/N contemplated blocking it, but it just seemed rude, so she just silenced her phone.

When took her phone out to listen to some music on the way to her lecture, she had three more comment.

"very nice" -appeared under a photo from one of her dinner parties with the local students.

"why no smile?" -it was a selfie, so what?

"thought you were the smart one, but starting to doubt that" - written under a random photo of Bologna's stunning libraries. So what, she enjoyed aesthetics too.

The one comment questioning her brain capacity stuck in head whole the way to her lecture. What the fuck was that about. Why was anyone spending their time so uselessly. The only thing on that profile was picture with some JL043 mash of letters. She had more important things to do.

A loud ding of her comments notification interrupted the lecture in the middle of it. She gave an apologetic look to her already grumpy professor.

"check my followers"

She sighed. That's it, she'll have a look and then block this asshole out.

Her heart sank when she saw that the only account this one was following was the Japan Airlines. JL043. The Christmas flight.

Y/N has already left one lecture because of Lando this week, so she was not about to it for the second time. But she might have as well done that, seeing she would not have been able to repeat a single point from this lecture.

//

Lando was not a patient man. Especially not after he has decided on something. And he decided on contacting Y/N. With the newfound fire in his veins, another burner account was created - can't let her see he was following every single one of her friends, bit weird. Well, once you've started you might as well finish it. Lando was happy that he did not posses any serial killer tendencies.

He was also a cheeky boy, not about to make it easy for anyone. Had to be fun.

So he liked all her pictures and put few comments. When she did not respond immediately in the morning, he continued. And again, and again. In the later afternoon, Y/N's account followed his and smile on Lando's face followed after that.

A message appeared shortly after.

"Hey you..."

part 4

_________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216

[lasaudade]

𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘, 𝖺 '𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌' 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼. (𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾)

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚  𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 :  Suffering several losses and ongoing, world-renowned tennis champion, Art Donaldson, is beginning to lose hope. After unexpectedly crossing paths with a familiar-looking journalist, Art realizes there could be more at stake than just his career. Will he leave the world he knew behind, or give the game one more shot?

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 : art donaldson x (f) sports journalist!reader.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : (𝟷𝟾+), second chance romance, angst, fluff, slow-burn.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 444.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝/𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 :  none.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚊 / 𝚗 : Hi, and welcome to my first fanfiction in 10 years! I've written this prologue for now as I write future chapters during my free time. I hope you guys enjoy this story, and I hope Challengers continues to receive the bountiful amounts of love it has been since its release.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    . . .

“I don’t want to do this. I can’t.”

“Should’ve decided that before you became a world championship player.”

The shuddering breath that leaves his nostrils narrowly frees the anxiety coursing through his veins like a racetrack, the dizzying walk down a familiar feeling corridor more nauseating than the last. Art practiced, hard, and to see that it was all for nothing felt like a slap to the face, a rude awakening for a man who had been yearning for the younger version of himself; fresh-faced and ready to take on Stanford— then, the world. What a fucking joke.

He winces instantly as the conference room doors yawn open, dazzling flashes from the multitude of various press outlets waving their cameras in his face, the flurry begging for him to answer trampled questions over the next. He can’t imagine how exhausted he must look, drenched in sweat.

The anticipatory looks of reporters and bloggers, ready to barrage him with inquiries of his ongoing defeats, his future plans to ensure a win: He hated it. He wanted nothing more but to retreat to his hotel room in peace and quiet to reflect on what he could have done better, what he did so wrong. With every step toward the press table, his footing grew heavier than the last, that awful sensation in the pit of his stomach settling, worsening once he sat down.

A mic is placed on him by an assistant, and a reporter emerges amid the sea of people that grow calm. His blue, tired eyes meet theirs.

“Mr. Donaldson.”

“Hi.”

The reporter clears their throat. “I... can only assume this wasn't the result you'd be hoping for— none of us had. I mean, months and months of agonizingly hard training regimens and diets to stick to... I can't fathom how disappointed you must be feeling right now,” 

 A long pause.

“…Why don’t we just start with something simple: What exactly happened out there, today?”

Amongst the quiet whispers and shutter clicks that flash from cameras that stun him, Art Donaldson, the acclaimed savior of tennis is utterly silent; frozen. 

“... Art?”

“...”

He doesn’t utter a word, he doesn't have any to explain why he continued to be a disappointment to not only himself, but to everyone around him. His trainers, his media team, his fans... himself. The deafening loud ringing in his ears finally falls silent when his wings are clipped and he falls back down to earth. Despite it all, the waves of anguish, the disappointment, the embarrassment he feels for those around him... he smiles, glassy-eyed and defeated for the tabloids to see in all his pitiful glory.

“What happened?”

[dr-spectre]

Ranting about Salmon Run...

As someone who loves this mode and thinks it's the best multiplayer mode in Splatoon 3. The scale system in it is dogshit and needs to change in the next game. It's genuinely awful and terrible game design in my opinion.

In order to get scales you must encounter a King Salmonid, the amount of scales you get is determined by your current rank and if you win or lose. Now to even get to a King Salmonid, you must do several matches to increase the chance of encountering one. Guess how long each Salmon Run match is... 300 seconds/5 minutes. Actually it's a little bit longer than that because you have to take into account queuing times, the wait time at the start of the match and the 10 seconds you get to prepare in each round.

Let's say you need to do 5 matches to even encounter the King Salmonid, you have to go through a little over 25 to 30 MINUTES to get a CHANCE to fight the king. AND GUESS WHAT! EVEN IF THE ICON IS FULL! THERE'S STILL A CHANCE YOU WON'T EVEN GET TO FIGHT A KING!!! WHY!??!? WHY IS IT LIKE THAT!??! I WENT THROUGH 5 MATCHES WHEN THE BAR WAS FULL AND YET I DIDN'T ENCOUNTER A KING AT ALL!!!! IT WAS A GIANT WASTE OF TIME!!!!!! (aside from ability chunks i guess) I GOT OTHER GAMES TO PLAY!!!!!

This icon is a fucking lie, a god damn lie i tell you! Even if it's full, your other teammates have to have theirs full as well apparently. So.. YAY! AWESOME! ughhhh........

Now let's talk about when you actually get the scales, there's a very high chance you will get barely any scales because you lost and you're in a low rank, OR, you won't get a single gold scale for several Xtrawaves. Meaning you have to go through the process of building up the meter again and again AND AGAIN to get a chance to get a single fucking gold scale. Do you see the issue here? The insanely long grind? It's fucking horrible.

Oh yeah and by the way, the chance of you getting a gold scale gets higher when you're in a higher rank, however this becomes an issue when you realise that the higher ranks are REALLY REALLY hard and it's near impossible to make it to the Xtrawave unless you have an amazing team. So yeah, good luck trying to maintain a high rank and actually beat the King Salmonid to get a chance of getting a gold scale!!!!!!!

Man... This is giving me a god damn headache.

Now, let's talk about the rewards you get. I'm gonna come right out and say it, you are never EVER getting any of these rewards.

Unless you actually hack the game or you abandon every aspect of your life just to get a bunch of fucking pngs for your splashtag, you will never EVER EVER EVER GET THEM! They are flat out impossible and if you see someone have any of these, they are a hacker and need to get reported.

And the gear that people actually want, well... LOOK AT THIS!

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY 800 BRONZE SCALE ITEMS!??! WHY?!?!?! WHYYYY?!!?!? Sometimes in Xtrawaves you may not even get 10 OF THESE! SO WHY MAKE IT TO WHERE MOST OF THE GEAR PEOPLE ACTUALLY WANT 800 GOD DAMN SCALES??!? If you got like 30 or 50 each time then maybe it would make sense, BUT NO! IT'S LIKE 5 TO 12!! WHYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been playing this game since launch and i only have the Octoleet Armor. THAT IS IT! There is a difference between rewarding the player and just doing monotonous grinding.

I am glad that Splatoon doesn't do what other games do nowadays and just has microtransactions to skip through grinding and pay an insane fee for currency. But like... Overwatch 2 is less grindy than this, you can comfortably get skins in that game for characters you like just by doing challenges and playing a bit of the game every day, and that game has SKINS THAT COST 58 BUCKS AUD!

That's all i wanted to say, I'm getting a headache just typing this because my god man, this is just awful game design and a poor way of rewarding the player and keeping retention time. Truly awful.

[foolishlovers]

TRANS HUMAN AUs: Below you can find a list of Good Omens human AUs featuring trans characters.

[Requested by anon. You can request more fic recs here.] it’s okay, maybe not forever but we got today by astheworldcomestoanend (G, 1k) Aziraphale’s parents are fighting again, so he goes over to Crowley’s house to spend the night with him. Crowley is more than happy to bring his angel in and make sure he’s okay.

Win Condition by ineffablefool (G, 1k) Human AU. Aziraphale and Crowley's junior high school sets up a really weird school-wide Valentine's Day game that they're both kind of side-eying for different reasons. Talking about it over lunch gives them both the chance to confess something, though!

Belonging by LittleQueerdo (T, 2k) Crowley is woken by a librarian on a mission.

style, flair, and a head of red hair – she’s the nanny?! by lineslines (G, 5k) She takes a step into the light, a vision of red and black, of scant fabric and edges, seizes him in her gaze, which he realizes is almost as fiery as her hair, and drags it up and down his form, once, before she grins. “Oh angel, let me guess, you probably think tartan is stylish?” “Tartan is stylish,” Aziraphale automatically protests, before his brain slowly catches up with his mouth. And his eyes. “Oh, how impolite of me! Please do come in. You must be drenched.” (Crowley just lost her job selling cosmetics to bored rich housewives. Aziraphale is a bored rich bastard in want of a nanny for the neighbor kid he has to babysit. It's a right place, right time situation. Right people, too.)

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll (T, 6k) Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster. The Colour of Hope and Sin by TawnyOwl95 (E, 7k) Crowley has never felt so pretty. Tonight he can do anything. Having Aziraphale Eastgate, the best defender that St. Beryl's School football team had ever seen, cross Crowley's path again is a chance to test that theory. And maybe they can both work out some latent teenage angst at the same time? A Stable Relationship by MirjamOmens (E, 9k) Crowley used to be one of the best eventing riders of the UK. After one unfortunate fall that crushed his leg, he ends his career and starts coaching other promising athletes. Aziraphale is a riding instructor, handling the school ponies and teaching the beginners. For the past six months they have found themselves in a sort of arrangement. It’s just friendship… and sex, whenever their schedules happen to align. It's nothing more than that, right?

Every Part of Me by foolishlovers (T, 10k) Heartthrob rockstar Antonia Harmonia, better known as Anthony J. Crowley offstage, has safeguarded his singing career from his best friend and long-term crush, Aziraphale, for nearly two decades. But when Aziraphale stumbles upon Crowley’s secret at one of his concerts, Crowley is suddenly confronted with unexpected consequences. Could the best of both worlds be within his reach? A Hannah Montana AU. I'm Beginning to See the Light by ineffabildaddy (E, 15k) There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

Fifteen Years of Heartache by mondlichtmaus (T, 20k) Crowley was roused from his nap by the sound of somebody opening the door. He didn't move. Maybe they would go away. "Excuse me?" someone called. They weren't going away. Crowley rose, lifting his head to squint at the intruder. A broad figure, silhouetted by the light of the hallway. He couldn't make out his face, eyes still bleary from sleep. Just a halo of light framing his head. "What?" Crowley grumbled. There was a moment of silence, then the intruder spoke again. "Anthony?" They're teachers. They're in love. They're oblivious.

Just Up the Stairs by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia (E, 39k) On Valentine's Day, amidst the chaos of handling work and university deadlines as a mature student, Crowley seeks solace with his neighbour Aziraphale. As they share a meal, their long-standing friendship begins to unravel, revealing hidden feelings they've harboured for six months. It's a night that could change everything. Black and White Sunshine by Azira_Amane (E, 58k) "The cotton capital. The Second Summer of Love, the Haçienda. Irwell, Medlock, Irk and Mersey. Elizabeth Gaskell wrote her novels in a lovely little house. Oh. There’s so much to know…" Aziraphale East is, by his own account, a bit of an odd duck - and he's okay with that. He's always been happy in his own skin, in having been a confirmed bachelor his whole life. Everything changes on a work trip from London to Manchester, where he meets the vivacious and stunningly attractive Anthony Crowley. Like the splitting of the atom, Aziraphale is divided - and begins to wonder if it's not too late for love after all. Age, as they say, is but a number.

Tales of Turning Pages by foolishlovers (E, 73k) Every Tuesday, aspiring romance novelist Anthony J. Crowley pays a visit to his local library and the charming angel working there. Every Tuesday, Aziraphale Fell finds himself more and more intrigued by the curious stranger who turns his orderly life as a small-town librarian upside down.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

[mapileonxputellas]

Player (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Request can be found here. I'm loving writing for some new people! 2.8k words x

You weren’t exactly proud of your reputation but you also had nothing to be ashamed of.

You liked having a good time and your teammates were included in that, they always knew what the deal was and you made sure no-one ever got hurt. You had rules and you stuck by them, the biggest of them all to never get feelings and never make it to a second night.

When you got the chance to move to Arsenal from your hometown club of Wolfsburg it definitely wasn’t a decision you took lightly. Everyone knew of your situation there, they were like a family to you and never judged you for all the bad decisions you made. But you lived your life so far taking risks and you never backed away from a challenge, so that’s how you found yourself stood outside the Arsenal training centre on a sunny August morning ready to start the preparation for the new season.

“Y/N, hey!” The unmistakable voice of Katie came out from nowhere startling you from your thoughts. “You just going to stand out here?”

“Very funny.” You muttered bringing her in for a hug. “It’s nice to properly meet you.”

“You too.” Your move was announced just before the Euro’s and your former teammate in Noelle had added you to the club group chat. The players had introduced themselves on there and you had the odd friendly chat with players after a game in the tournament but this was the first time you would be properly meeting everyone.

“Come on, everyone’s excited to meet you.”

Katie informed you on the way that everyone would be in the dining room for breakfast before training. Having played in the final for Germany you would be joining the England girls as the last to arrive back for pre-season, knowing you would just be in the gym today.

You must have been the last to arrive as you walked into the crowded dining room. “Guys.” The Irish woman grabbed the attention of the room, all eyes immediately focusing on you. “This is Y/N.” There was a general greeting back to you as you scanned the room trying to make eye contact with all the friendly faces.

Kim being the captain was the first to come over, breaking your scanning of the room as she went with you to get a morning coffee, talking you through what was going to happen. You got the idea that the team always had breakfast together before moving to whatever that day entailed in training. You had joined slightly late but she assured you that there was enough time for the coffee.

There were very few seats left but you found one free next to your fellow defenders in Jen and Lotte.

“Hey,” You said taking a seat. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Not quite the circumstances we met last time.” Lotte said referring to your place on the losing side in the Euro’s final.

Thankfully even though you wouldn’t consider yourself to be fluent, your English was very good so you could understand everyone. “Not quite.”

3 weeks prior: Euro’s final

The final whistly had blew, it wasn’t enough. Your dream was over.

120 minutes of giving it your all only to fall at the final hurdle.

It was as if the energy had been zapped from your whole body, your legs giving way as you fell to the floor. Every emotional just flooded out of you as you buried your head into the grass hiding the tears streaming down your face.

You felt a hand on your back, slightly lifting your head to find an unknown England player’s boots as they knelt down beside you. “You gave it everything. Let’s win the Champions League together.” Of course it had to be the England captain herself, a player you admired so greatly.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with the captain however you sat up enough to bring her in for a hug. “Congratulations, go and enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”

You shared a short conversation with Beth before she was whisked away for all her duties, Lotte the final player to make her way over.

“Congratulations.” You once again said bringing her in for a hug now you’d stood back up. “This is some atmosphere.” The majority may have been cheering against you but you couldn’t help but soak in all the people here to watch you play.

“It’s incredible. You were too by the way, I’m looking forward to working together.”

“Thank you, enjoy tonight for me.”

“I’m sure we will.”

You watched them lift the trophy and despite your overwhelming sadness you were excited to play with these players and have a new start.

…..

You’ll never forget the first time you properly met Leah. Probably because to this day you were still embarrassed about the whole thing.

Lotte and Beth led you to the gym area where you would be for the rest of the morning which annoyed you to no end, just wanting to get out onto the pitch again after the final disappointment.

Though there were some drawbacks, for the majority of the time you prided yourself on your confidence. It helped you make friends, allowed you to show off your qualities and to put it bluntly it usually helped with the girls.

That’s how you found yourself in the weight section, clad in just a sports bra and shorts rolled all the way up as you wiped the sweat from running down your forehead.

“So….” You leaned against the bar and watched as Beth ran on the treadmill. “Is it true? About you and Viv?”

“Is what true?” The English woman questioned back.

“Has she got in before I got the chance? Who knows maybe I can still persuade you to go to dinner with me?” You could see the other woman trying to process what you said in her head so you put her out of her misery. “I’m joking, don’t look so worried.”

“So the rumours are true then…”

“Depends what rumours you’re talking about.”

“That, no offence, you get around.” Katie again appeared from behind you. “Again, no offence.”

“None taken, I mean if you’re surrounded by beautiful women all day then you appreciate them a little bit more and they were all very beautiful.”

“Who’s beautiful?” Another voice questioned and you turned to face the one woman you’d yet to meet, the one who you’d been waiting to meet. The woman you’d had probably the biggest crush ever on since you’d met her that day in Wembley.

“Oh, uh…” You stuttered. “Well you see Katie was just asking-“

“Y/N was just explaining her love of dogs.” It perhaps wasn’t the most believable lie but you were thankful for Lotte making that up on the spot. “I think you probably meant to say cute.”

“Yeah”

“Well it’s nice to meet you.” God what was happening to you. This was so embarrassing as Leah leant over to give you a hug and something just took over your whole body. It was like you couldn’t move your arms as you almost stayed like a statue. “Have you had a good break?”

“Uh, yeah I just spent a few weeks with my family. Caught the sun.”

“I can see that.” Where was the confidence now as Leah very obviously checked you out her eyes running over your tanned arms and legs. “Fancy coming on the bike with me? I’d like to get to know my new partner.”

“Yeah sure.”

“Is that the only word you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah so you do say other words than yeah, I swear that’s been your answer to like all my questions.” The blonde teased getting on the bike next to you as you both started at a gentle pace.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a bit, I don’t know.” Any normal person would say nervous but you didn’t get nervous.

“It’s ok to be nervous, it must be a lot when you don’t know anyone. Well you know Noelle but you get my point.”

“Mm.” You couldn’t help but get a good look at Leah as she faced forward. Her whole appearance was just so commanding from her serious expression to her classic high ponytail and chiselled jawline.

“How was it back in Germany?”

“Huh?” What had happened?

“After the final.”

“Oh.” Get a grip. “It was incredible, maybe not on the same scale as in England but thing have definitely changed.”

“Why now then? Why not stay in Germany at your hometown club?”

“Why not?” You questioned back. “I’m 25 and it feels like now is the best time to go, my family were very encouraging.”

“Understandable.”

…..

The two of you spent a lot of time together over the next week or so. You’d often make the excuse that you needed to get to know your defensive partner, learn more about each other but the two of you just got to know each other. You learnt about her family, you told her about your own, she gave you the low down on all your new teammates and you told her about your ambitions.

The blank moments though continued, it was like it would only happen in specific moments, when she would make eye contact with you, when she’d sub-consciously touch your leg or graze your arm. Your mind just couldn’t concentrate on anything else. You’d been doing weights together when you suddenly forgot the name of your family dog back at home and what you’d had for dinner the previous evening.

Thankfully no-one else had yet to be witness to these moments. Until now.

You joined the rest of the team out on the pitch, Lotte and Jen had joined you as first out that sunny morning as you started playing with the free balls. This was when you were most confident, flicking the ball up in the air, showing off all your tricks. This was your comfort zone.

Your one touch football was something you prided yourself in and that’s why you flicked the ball up in the air in a series of moves receiving whistles from the two other girls only to be interrupted by a third voice.

“Impressive, maybe you can give me some lessons someday.” Damn the eye contact and one again you almost seemed to zone out, completely forgetting about the ball which you’d just flicked up in the air and therefore came crashing down on top of your head, breaking you out of your daydream.

“Fuck.”

It wasn’t anything serious and your teammates knew that which meant they all just burst out in laughter, your hand coming up to rub the slightly delicate spot on the top of your head.

“Very funny.” You told them.

“Maybe I don’t need the lessons after all.” Leah teased snatching a ball from your feet. “Come on let’s see what you can do with your feet this time.”

…..

It didn’t get better. In fact maybe it got worse.

In the following month you’d managed to spill your drink on her during breakfast, skied a penalty when she jokingly placed herself in the net and made countless errors in drills when up against her.

You’d played your first match together at the weekend and thankfully your game plan wasn’t affected by your growing crush. In game you were the serious defender you were known to be, sweet talking your way out of a few dubious tackles with the ref and denying a massive chance for the opposition in the final minute to close out the win for Arsenal.

“Y/N do you fancy coming round for dinner tonight?” Leah asked when you sat down the next morning with your toast and a coffee.

You could feel your heart start racing when she asked that question, what did she mean? As a date? As a friend? “Yeah, maybe we can order something in, as a treat.”

“Great, I think that’s seven of us now so we could all get a takeaway.” You didn’t let your face drop as you realised for better or worse that it wasn’t just going to be the two of you. “I’ll text you my address.”

“See you tonight.” You whispered as you watched her walk away from the table, instead coming to meet the eyes of Lia and Katie sat opposite you.

“I’m watching you.” Lia smirked. “I see that look in your eye.”

“Someone’s got a little crush.” Katie teased.

“Shut up.”

Leah had stayed true to her word and messaged you her address for that night. You all agreed to a takeaway but of course you couldn’t turn up empty handed and that’s how you turned up at her door with a wine bottle in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. Thankfully you’d also all agreed to stay casual, your yoga pants and a sweatshirt suitable for the evening.

Lia opened the door for you, once again smirking as she let you into Leah’s apartment, a scowl from you enough to keep her silent.

“Y/N.” Leah said as you walked through into the lounge area where the group were congregated, the England captain the one to stand up and pull you in for a hug. Her arms were barely round your waist for a few seconds but that was enough to get your cheeks as red as a tomato something not missed by your sniggering teammates.

“You alright there?” Katie asked from her position on the sofa. “Something on your cheek.”

“It’s just a bit hot out there.” You muttered. “I need a drink.”

The night was going well, you’d all enjoyed a Chinese and enjoyed a few drinks, though you were only a tiny bit tipsy, before moving back into the living area to play a few board games.

Sadly first up was the worst of them all. Twister.

“Y/N left hand yellow.” That smirk was almost a permanent feature on Katie’s face as she read out the instructions and saw your current predicament. It would have been a simple move had Leah not been in the way. The only way to get your hand down was to basically hover or straddle over her waist as she basically did the crab underneath you.

If it was anyone else in this situation you probably would have laughed, sadly it was you and that red flush was coming up again. You moved across, avoiding eye contact with the woman below you as you tried to avoid eye contact with the woman.

“When I said I wanted to get to know you I didn’t quite mean this.” Leah whispered, her head mere inches away from your own. “Is it getting too hot in here again?”

“Something like that.”

You let everyone else have their turn before it came back around to you. “Y/N left hand green.” You’d done well so far to avoid any actual contact with Leah’s body before this instruction which meant you basically had to reach underneath her body to reach the green dot.

Your balance was good but not this good and before you could save yourself you fell straight onto the woman sending the both of you toppling onto the floor. In trying to save the both of you, you tried to reach down for the floor but instead of coming in contact with the carpet you instead you just grazed Leah’s chest being met with the bare skin from her cropped shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” You immediately jumped up. “Leah, I’m so sorry.”

In a stark contrast to your panicked face Leah couldn’t keep the laughter in, hunching over almost in tears with the rest of the girls. “Don’t worry about it honestly.” She said before moving in to whisper in your ear. “Maybe we could go on a date to make up for it?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She confirmed before moving out of the room, leaving you alone with all the curious faces as a little happy smile came up on your face.

“You’re such a loser you know that.” Katie teased as you sat down next to her. “You know you practically couldn’t keep your eyes off her the whole meal.”

“How on earth did you ever get laid by so many women when you can’t even think when you’re around them.” Beth teased.

“You have no game.” Lotte agreed.

“That’s how I managed to get a date with her then.” You teased back your confidence rising. “What can I say Leah is just unique. Very unique.”

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 5

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya reached her apartment around 1 am. Roma was not back yet, thankfully. She wasn’t ready for her interrogation. 

The night still felt surreal. She leaned against the dining table and held on to the edges to steady the head-rush she was feeling. If the Tupperware of leftover pasta was not in front of her (he had insisted she took some coz she had barely eaten), the girl would have seriously wondered if she had hallucinated the whole thing. But no, this really happened. And she didn’t bail on whatever this was, as she had initially planned to do.

The wine was still buzzing in her system, helping calm her nerves. Before turning in for the night, she sent him a quick message.

Ananya: Reached 15 mins ago. Thanks for the drop. 

She wasn’t expecting a response. He must have a ton of people to talk to / respond to after the match earlier that night. So she started an episode of Friends, hoping to fall asleep in a bit.

5 mins later, her phone flashed.

Jude: Cool. Tired?

Ananya: Oh yeah, in bed already. You?

She rubbed her temple to soothe her straining eyes. It had been some day. 

Jude: Wanted to crash but some of the guys still partying at Vini’s house. Cama kept sending me videos, gosh he’s so wasted right now. Came there for a bit.

She smiled at her phone. The team deserved every bit of celebration tonight.

Ananya: That’s nice. Have fun :)

Jude: Yup. What plans for tmrw? Boss cancelled our training so I am free till afternoon. 

Ananya: Have to work a few hours in the morning, which might extend, not sure.

Jude: On Sunday morning?

Ananya: Welcome to investment banking.

Jude: Keep forgetting how smart you are.

Ananya: Not that smart, but ok :)

Jude: So, I have an ad shoot tomorrow evening, then flying out for an away game on Monday after training. Don’t know when I will see you next.

A wave of sadness hit her, surprising her with its force. Her brain admonished her. She had only just met him and she needed to get a grip. 

Ananya: It’s fine. Will figure something when you are back.

Jude: Hmm. Haven’t even kissed you yet and you are already messing with my head.

The sadness was replaced by a warm shiver as she stared at the screen and thought of a response. But couldn’t come up with any.

Jude: Did you just fall asleep on me? 

Ananya: Stop being dramatic. I am right here.

Jude: Naa, wish you were HERE. Why’d you leave?

Ananya: Jude, you know why.

There was something about the way she said his name that made him want to hear it on loop, in various settings. God damnit this girl.

Jude: Yeah yeah. You thought we won’t be able to keep it in our pants.

She choked on water, and some spilled out on her blanket. 

Ananya: How drunk are you?

Jude: Plentyyyy. Don even know what’s been shoved down my throat anymore. 

Ananya: Figures :)

Jude: One last thing. Veryyyy important, like proper critical. 

Ananya: Yes?

Jude: Need to see you in my jersey. 

She smiled to herself before typing.

Ananya: Maybe win the Madrid derby next, score the winner, and then we’ll talk?

Jude: Tough, tough crowd. No mercy. No rest for the wicked. No respect for the Classico winner. 

He was even more dramatic when he was drunk. She could almost hear the whining from his texts.

Ananya: Good night, Jude :)

Jude: Good night, dove. Try not to dream of me too much. Mwahhh!

She smiled at the screen and ended up kissing it, finally drifting off to sleep.

Next morning, she woke up to a message from him. Sent at 5 am. A drunk out of their wits pic with Jude, Cama and Fede. Along with a caption.

Jude: Your preciousss Cama.

Then, another message from a few seconds later.

Jude: Don’t stare too long. 

She responded with a heart emoji to the picture and got started with her day.

Next few hours were hectic. She got into her work mode, shutting out all the madness that had transpired the day before.

Still, in between, her eyes drifted to her phone, to see if there were any new messages. Poor guy must have been sleeping. Or busy. He did say he had an ad shoot in the second half.

She somehow pulled through the day, and it was almost 5 pm when she finally finished work. Roma was also on the same project. The girls sighed about it being Monday morning just  next day, and decided to make the most of their remaining evening. 

They ended up at the same cafe where Ananya had met him the other day. Was it just two days ago? God - so much had happened since then.

She ordered her favourite churros and took a picture. Then wondered whether she should send it to him. Would it look desperate? Like she was just seeking his attention? She couldn’t have that.

But it was a harmless pic. He would get the reference. Deciding to not overthink it, she ended up sending the photo with a caption.

Ananya: Back to ground zero!

No blue tick for over 15 mins.

Roma rolled her eyes at her then.

‘Can you stop the sappiness? Look around - lovely day. Lovely food. Let’s get some Sangria and let the world go to hell.’

Her roommate was the best. The two perfectly complimented each other. Plus, her American upbringing lent her this carefree attitude which Ananya really wished to imbibe.

‘Well, how can anyone say no to Sangria?’

The girls ordered a pitcher and ended up staying there for a few hours. Gossiping about their colleagues. Talking about life. Planning a vacation - Sevilla and Granada were top of their list. They looked up their calendars and found a long weekend that seemed ideal. The prospect itself making them cheerful.

By the time they got back, it was already 9 pm. There was still nothing from him. Not even a blue tick. She knew he was working. Yet, an ugly thought still creeped in - was this just a one night distraction? Did he already…lose interest after she dumped her constraints on him? All her doubts from last night came rushing back, leaving an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

She got into bed and tried watching a movie. Anything random to keep her thoughts at bay. While scrolling through her insta.

And there it was - a post from him a few mins ago about the ad campaign for a cologne. With a gorgeous, stunning model at his arm. Ofcourse. 

The first photo looked like a part of the creative. The two were dressed immaculately in all black, she was leaning against his chest while his hand rested just above her butt. Seductiveness oozing from every inch of that frame.

The next was a BTS video - of him just being goofy on set while getting ready or trying to take a shot & not getting it right. The whole crew just getting charmed by his antics and boyish smiles. The model, in particular being extra supportive, extra attentive, giggling a bit too hard while holding onto his arm. Perfect hair, perfect figure and perfect skin. Ofcourse. 

And just then, her insta reels recommendation showed Jude hugging multiple female fans who had lined up outside his shoot. They screamed his name, begging for hugs and he obliged. Warm, cozy, Jude hugs. Granted he only wrapped one arm around their shoulder and looked embarrassed when some of them reached up to kiss his cheek or pulled him closer, but still. This wasn’t something she needed to see right now. 

Was this going to be her life from now on? Curled into bed, following his activities on social media, feeling inadequate. She didn’t deserve it. No girl deserved this. 

She threw her phone aside and forced herself to focus on the movie. It was already 9:45, it would be best to get some sleep soon. Next week was going to be super hectic at work. Yes, work is what she needed do focus on. That’s why she was halfway across the world in this city. That was her goal in life right now. Not some ridiculously handsome random boy who made women go weak in their knees everywhere he went. 

Around 10 pm, her phone buzzed. She had tucked herself into bed by then and almost decided to not look at it. But curiosity got the better of her.

Jude: Heyyy. Sorry my phone was not with me. Just getting back from a shoot.

She was equal parts relieved and irritated with that message. Ananya took a deep breath to calm herself down, and thought of a neutral response.

Ananya: Oh yeah, you had mentioned. How did it go?

Jude: Not too bad. Somehow got an ok on my take, that’s all I care about honestly. This acting gig ain’t no joke. 

Ananya: Hmm.

Jude: Churros looked lovely. Hope you had fun.

Ananya: Yep, and yep.

Jude: Tired? Am I keeping you from something?

Ananya: Nope. 

Jude: Why so wry then? What’s happened?

Oh, how she wanted to scream. What’s happened was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. What she swore she won’t put herself through with another boy. And this was amplified 1000 times here coz of who Jude was. 

She started typing, then deleted, then typed again, unable to find the right words. This went on for two mins. 

Jude: Can I call?

She sighed, exasperated. Her voice will immediately give away her irritated and confused state. But he knew something was up and typing like this was getting exhausting.

Ananya: Sure.

He called the next second. She braced herself, then answered. 

‘Hey.’

She couldn’t have possibly made it sound drier even if she tried. 

‘Hey. Wassup?’

‘Nothing, was just about to crash. Already in bed.’

‘Hmm, won’t keep you for long. Just wanna hear your voice.’

Damn him. To the moon and back. Damn his sweet agonising voice. 

‘Why? Looks like you had enough company today.’

The words just tumbled out of her before she could check herself. Great going girl, way to make yourself look pathetic. 

He paused for a few seconds.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, forget it.’

‘Tell me you’ll sort this on your own and wake up all fine tomorrow morning, I’ll leave it be.’

She knew that wasn’t gonna happen. There was also no way for this to ever work if she wasn’t honest with him. Especially given his situation, things will just compound and then break very quickly. If they ever even get started, that is. 

‘The photos bothered me a bit.’

She could sigh him breathe audibly at the other end - probably getting irritated at her insecurity. Or her immaturity. Maybe both. 

‘What about them bothered you?’

Damn him for always making her spell everything out loud.

‘Just…her? Everything about that stunning woman. Looks like she fancied you.’

She could tell the wheels were churning in his mind at the other end.

‘I see. And you think I should be with someone like her. In fact, maybe I am going to her hotel room right now & talking to you on the way.’

Her silence was deafening. Jude gripped the edge of his seat to not curse out loud. 

‘Ananya - didn’t we speak about this last night? Are we gonna go back full circle here?’

‘I am sorry. It’s just - I don’t know how I could ever compete with someone like that. Also, I don’t want to. I am a normal, regular girl Jude. Don’t need that in my life right now, or ever.’

‘YOU DON’T HAVE TO COMPETE. Can’t you see you have already won?’

Warmth and fuzziness ran over her, making her feel gooey inside. She had to clutch her tummy to arrest that feeling. To arrest the freefall. 

‘You don’t know what’s gonna happen.’

Jude fought the urge to throw his phone against the opposite seat. 

‘DO YOU? Does anyone? Girl, why don’t you believe me when I say I want you? Should I list down how much I have fantasised about you the last two days? How much I wanna…..’

‘Stop, please stop Jude. Please.’

Both were breathing heavily at this point, for different reasons.

‘Can I ask you for one thing, Ananya? Try trusting me till I give you an explicit reason not to. I am not such a dog, y’know. Yes, I have seen multiple girls together before but all parties KNEW it was casual. No commitments. This is not that. This is not a situationship. I would have told you to your face if that’s what I was looking for.’

She clutched her phone close to her chest. Him being who he was had made it all so hard. But he was right - he hadn’t done anything. Well, not yet. 

‘I don’t know what to say, Jude. Like I know a lot of this is in my head but I don’t know how to make it go away.’

Heavy breathing continued at both ends. He broke the silence after a few moments. 

‘How about this? Ask me what you really wanna ask me. All your unsaid questions, assumptions, perceptions about me that make you want to distance yourself. I won’t lie, promise. Be the smart girl I know you are and break it down like you will a work project.’

That was actually a fair suggestion. She could see what he was trying to do by appealing to her logical side. Not just a pretty face. Clearly not. 

She chucked her inhibitions on how crude her questions might sound. He was right - without this they would keep coming back full circle.

‘So…when you said you were dating multiple women together..’

‘Seeing…not dating.’

He clarified before she could go on. It was an important distinction for him. 

‘Yes, seeing them together, how long back was that?’

‘In Dortmund.’

‘Hmmm.’

She didn’t know how to feel about that. So she skipped to the next obvious question.

‘And…what about Madrid?’

‘Seen a couple, texted a couple, but not at the same time.’

‘Ok. When was the last time you were…you know..’

He understood the question before her finishing it.

‘Two weeks ago.’

‘I see.’

That wasn’t too long back. Was he still in touch with her? Did they meet up at his house? Something about the last thought made her feel icky.

‘And, these rendezvous, usually happen where?’

He chuckled at her choice of words. She really was something. 

‘At a hotel close by. It’s a private, exclusive property.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He could tell there was a tinge of sarcasm in that last word but chose to let it go.

‘Are you in touch with her….the last one?’

‘Not since a week.’

She was feeling particularly bold at this point. Jude could anticipate her next question from a mile away.

‘Well, are you planning to?’

‘Nope. Not her. Not anyone else. I will only be with you and you will only be with me. Exclusively.’

He declared without hesitation. Her mouth open and closed at his last line, unsure of how to react. He waited patiently. 

‘And what about the hordes of women who throw themselves at you daily? Who would do absolutely anything you want, and more?’

‘There is no easy fix here. You will have to find a way to believe that I will not stray, I will not indulge them.’

He could have backed his statement with evidence. Coz the model from today did slip him her number & he had politely wriggled out of that. But even he had the good sense to know this wasn't the time to bring that up.

She appreciated how he didn’t try to feed her any rosy crap, really following through on answering honestly. His tone & speed of response gave her enough assurance that he wasn’t being evasive. 

She had run out of questions and said as much to him. Weirdly, in some inexplicable way, this was healing.

‘My turn then.’

This caught her off guard. But it was a fair ask, after the grilling she just put him through. 

‘Sure, go ahead.’

‘Open your door in precisely 1 minute. I will ask in person.’

The phone dropped from her hand as she sat up, landing somewhere under the blanket. She reached for it blindly with one hand while switching on the lights with the other. 

‘What do you mean in person? You don’t know where I live.’

‘Agnes knows.’

Ofcourse. His driver had dropped her home last night. Great, his presence was making her dumb now.

‘But….what if someone sees you? Roma is home too. The house is so messy. And I am, I am..One second, your shoot was on the other side of town and this is not in your way. What would you be doing here? Are you messing with me?’

She rambled faster that the speed of light. He ignored every other comment but picked up on the last one.

‘How did you know where my shoot was?’

Damn. Bloody rotten hell. She groaned audibly on the phone and he laughed out loud.

‘Dove is a stalkerrrrrr!’

He said teasingly, in a sing-song voice. 

Before she could respond, she heard a car honk under her window. No, this couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. Would he?

‘Buzz me in and open the door. I am getting out of the car now.’

Ananya rushed frantically to the door, buzzing the building gate open. The idea of someone seeing him here filling her with nerves. Thankfully, she was on the first floor, half a staircase away from the building door.

Three seconds later, she saw him enter the building. Eight seconds later, she was grabbing his arm and pulling him into the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind them.

What was he thinking? What if someone had seen him outside? The media crap storm would have been unstoppable. How irresponsible was this? The gall of him to show up unannounced like that, anytime he wanted. Oh, she was mad. Raving mad.

Before she could turn around and give him a piece of her mind, strong arms wrapped around her from behind. 

‘Sorry. Just wanted to see you once before I fly out tomorrow. Didn’t want to leave on this note.’

And just like that, he knocked the fight out of her chest. With two simple lines. Frankly she was a goner at sorry itself. The boy carried a magic wand of persuasion with him. 

Her shoulders, which were tensed in anger, dropped as she leaned back into his chest. He kissed the back of her head, conveying his gratitude.

She could stay like this forever. In his warm, comforting hold. His scent, familiar by now (when did that happen?), seeping into her skin, taking over her senses. His big, calloused hands enveloping her smaller ones. Involuntarily, she sighed.

‘Thank you for being honest with me earlier. I feel better now.’

‘I am glad. My turn? Only have one question.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He turned her around in his arms and tilted her chin up to look straight into her eyes.

‘Would you let me kiss you right now?’

Time stood still. She was very numb yet very aware in that moment. The dim lighting in the living room from the night lamp, the faint noise from the street, the rhythmic tapping of feet coming from Roma’s locked room who was blaring music on her headphones. All registering in some peripheral part of her brain.

But what she was hypnotised by was his face, and his eyes, gazing intently at her, drawing her in. How was it ever possible to say no to that face? To those big brown eyes which looked even deeper, softer, more vulnerable than ever before?

She didn’t realise when he took off his jacket, nudged her towards the dining table a short distance away, put his hands on the sides of her waist, lifted her slightly to place her on the table. But when her legs were being parted gently so he could stand in front of her, their torsos touching, her trance broke. The heat radiating from his body was palpable. 

Jude’s face was inches away, almost eye level.  A pleasing, handsome, perfectly symmetrical face. The dim lighting creating a halo around him. Ananya tilted her head to look at Roma’s room and if it was still locked. But he put two fingers on her cheek to turn her back to him.

‘Been waiting for this since I saw you.’

Jude lifted her arms & wrapped them around his neck, while his hands stroked her back. The flimsy fabric of her tank top not providing any barrier; it was almost like he was stroking her skin. Her legs, spread wide apart to fit him in, dangled aimlessly on the edge of the table.

How was he expecting a coherent verbal response from her in this situation?

She slowly slid one of her hands from his long muscly neck to his hair, fingers gliding through the thick, firm, soft curls. Her eyes searching his, telling him this is the best she could do right now.

That was all the signal he needed. Her grip in his hair tightened as he angled his head to cover her lips with his. Plump, pillowy lips caressing hers. Making her tightly shut her eyes and whimper out. Which broke something in him.

He dove in again with more urgency, parting her lips this time, getting them to move in sync with his. She gladly obliged, submitting to his rhythm while her heart hammered against her chest. She wondered if he could hear it too. But he was too occupied with tasting her mouth. All her little sounds & shudders giving him a head rush. His hot breath fanning her cheeks. 

When her whimpers went up an octave, he gave her a little breather, connecting their foreheads as they breathed in the same air. Her hands had fallen to the wide expanse of his shoulders, clutching at them to anchor herself. 

He kissed her forehead, the top of her eyes, and placed two delicate pecks on each cheek. His light stubble grazing her skin. She tilted her head involuntarily along with his movements, giving him ready access, like a puppy would to someone petting it. 

‘Ananya, lemme see you.’

The way he said her name, the fondness in his voice, it was like a silent command she couldn’t deny. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter as she opened her eyes. 

He smiled affectionately, and it took her breath away. All the walls she had built around herself, all the rules, all the notions of just focusing on her work for now, this boy had bulldozed his way through all that with just his breathtaking smile.

Some part of her still conscious brain tried to chide her that she was no different than any of the other girls fawning over him. All it took was him showering her with his undivided attention and she was putty in his hands. But her brain couldn’t get a word in edgewise, her other senses had taken over. 

Jude reached for her hands, unclasped them from his shoulders, somehow sensing the tension in them. What he did next made her lightheaded. He moved his lips to her palms, placing soft, lingering kisses on both. And then, he moved her hands to his face, as if asking her to hold him. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than their kiss. 

His unending torso was all hard muscle, pressed into hers, but his face was soft. Rugged yet soft. Her hands couldn’t even fully cover his cheeks, she noted absentmindedly. So she used the pads of her thumbs to stroke the rest of his gorgeous face. 

Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer into him. She looked up in surprise, finding darker, hooded eyes. 

‘The next time you wanna run away from me, remember this feeling.’

Not only had his eyes changed colour but his voice had turned hoarse too. Insistent lips crashed into hers, prying them open, his tongue penetrating her mouth. She gasped at the invasion. One of her hands fell from his face  & settled behind her on the table, trying to find balance, as the force of his kiss made her lean backwards, with him looming over her. 

His spare hand gripped her bare thigh to help steady her. She just realised how her tiny sleeping shorts had completely inched up her legs, leaving them almost fully bare. His hand was firm and his fingers dug into her skin, making her head spin.

She lost her balance, despite his support, falling further backwards and knocking down a container behind her on the table. He broke the kiss & stretched his arm to reach for the container, finding it just before it was about to crash on the floor. While she just panted in his hold.

‘Jude…I..’

‘Shhhhh, I got you.’

They fell into a warm, comforting embrace. Arms settling around each others’ backs. Her face resting in the crook of his neck as he quietly stroked her hair.

‘Did it ever occur to you that it’s hard for me to trust as well?’

That made her grudgingly break the hug and look up at him with confused eyes, while their arms remained locked around each other. 

‘It’s tough to figure if someone really likes me for me or it’s the lifestyle, fame, money and exposure that they are after. If a private encounter would remain private or the details would be splashed over some social media later. If some photoshopped images or invented stories be circulated as sworn truth. I have struggled to judge, so honestly I stopped trying. Keeping it just about sex was simpler. Uncomplicated. Convenient. No strings attached.’

No, it hadn’t occurred to her at all. Not till he put it like that. On any other day, she would have been irked at him trying to conveniently defend his conscious indulgences. But it felt more like an admission than justification. 

She stroked his neck and shoulders as he continued being vulnerable with her. 

‘You see, the normal and regular you think to be such a distancing factor, is in fact the opposite. A huge chunk of my life will always be public, I get that. I signed up for that. But this bit, I wanna protect. I’d love to come home to someone normal.’

Ananya stroked his face with all the tenderness she could muster. Trying to show that she understands. From the way he relaxed into her, she figured he got her message. 

Jude knew he had to be careful with her. Seeing her skimpy nightclothes hugging her body tonight had already disrupted his brain chemistry. He couldn’t shake the thought of how easy it would be to just push her on her back then & there. To rid her of the flimsy fabric barely covering her form l, with one determined tug. 

That’s why he knew he had to leave soon, while he was still thinking with his head. She wasn’t ready, not yet. 

‘That your room?’

He tilted his head towards the open door at the end of the corridor. 

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Want me to carry you in and tuck you into bed? I will leave after a goodnight kiss.’

She met his gaze with a twinkle in her eye, cocking her head sideways, biting her lip slowly. His eyes followed every little movement. 

‘Think you can handle being in my bedroom just to tuck me in?’

Boy, he didn’t see that coming. Didn’t know she had it in her. It immediately made him even more interested. The open challenge in her eyes, the suggestive tone, and that jutting out bottom lip. That needed to be responded to.

He leaned in and bit down at the same spot on her lower lip, making it sting a bit, then flicking it with his tongue. His hand gripped her bare thigh again, knocking the sass out of her.

‘Lippy. So lippy. I love it.’

He continued rubbing circles on her thigh with his thumb till he drew a moan out of her, despite her biting her cheek to keep it in.

‘Your pretty brain may not approve of me yet, but your body is definitely #TeamJude.’

She gasped, and he chose that moment to lean in for a deep goodnight kiss. Making it wet & sloppy, on purpose, so much so that she had to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand when he was done with her.

‘Sleep tight, dove. Talk to ya tomorrow. And..’

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, enunciating each word.

‘Will think about you tonight. Maybe in the car as well.’

With one last attempted wink, he bid her goodbye and walked out. While she was still perched up on the table, her body tingling everywhere he had touched her, her lips tasting of him, and her mind reeling from what had just happened.

……………………… 

There it is. Was delayed because, well, the pictures threw me off :)

As always, feedback / comments are always welcome. Hope you are enjoying their journey so far!

[corvodumpy]

explain blaseball to me like I don’t know what baseball is

In the most simple explanation possible (simple does not mean short), it was a baseball simulator where the fans could bet on the teams with fake currency. The teams were all original teams and the players were randomly generated from their names, stats, position, down to their preference in coffee and pregame rituals. Fans would pick a favorite team and use the money they gained to buy raffle tickets, which were submitted into an online election system.

The election page contain simple things like "improve one of your players batting stats", "trade a player with the season winning team", or massive rule changing things like "The Top 4 Teams of the Regular Season must run an extra base next season" or "Every Season, a random team from each Subleague will become the 5th Playoff team. A best of 3 Wild Card series will happen on Fridays."

Fans would often work together to pool their raffle votes on what they wanted. The winners were pulled at random but the more votes you submitted the better your chances. The game took harsh turns into cosmic horror very quickly. The first season allowed fans to vote to "open a forbiden book" which resulted in the book cursing the game as a whole, causing solar eclipse weather which caused the umpires to occasionally turn into mindless killers who would randomly incinerate players mid-game. These deaths were permanent and the player was immediately replaced with no fanfare.

Fans often got very attached to their teams players, drawing art of what they look like or writing up stories about them, so their deaths often really meant something to a lot of people. Fans would often find ways to manipulate the simulation to do weird things, or try to push their team in interesting directions to reach some goal. The game devs often noticed what the fans were doing and would play into their games to cause many funny "monkeys paw" results.

One of the most famous involved a player named Jaylen Hotdogfingers. She was killed when the forbidden book was opened because she was the best pitcher in the league and it wanted to punish us. There was an option in an election one season to "steal the 14th most popular player onto your team" and fans quickly noticed you were still allowed to claim dead players were your favorite. Jaylen was listed as playing for the "Null" team because she was obviously dead, but it still counted as a real team. Fans succeeded in trading with this "null" team and jaylen was brought back to life. Fans refer to this as Necromancy.

When she started playing, she returned to pitching, but she started causing "Hit-By-Pitch"s, which was not a standard part of the simulation at this point. Players hit were marked as "Unstable". Eventually, an unstable player was incinerated, and that instability spread to another player activly in that game, and text read out "[PLAYER] was incinerated, A Debt was Collected."

So jaylen was spreading some "mark for death" on players on purpose to repay whatever God controlled this game for bringing her back from the dead. This lead to a domino effect of death until this debt was repaid that many fans call "Ruby Tuesday."

Overall the game had a few main plots, one involving us challenging/killing one of the gods of this game, the other fighting against the "boss" turning the game into a profit hungry hellscape. The fanart was insanely good, the unique stories every fan had about their team and players were always fun, and a lot of good was done for many different charities. Many fans would get together and make music, resulting in a band and record lable.

All fan communication was done through an official discord or team specific sidecords, so live games had live fans watching in real time. It really was a "you had to be there" thing, a real cultural event. Fans have done everything they can to preserve it. Nothing will ever match the energy of the live discovery of events in a live chat, but the messages are all still in there, and there's a website to replay the old games exactly as they were. And the blaseball wiki is a blast to scroll through even if you never watched it because all the player and team pages are filled with the stories fans made up.

Anyways Goobie Ballson did nothing wrong

*coughs up blood and dies*

[magicfootballstuff]

Belief (leah williamson x reader)

Before the game, when you tell Leah that you know Arsenal will win the Conti Cup, you’re lying.

Arsenal are capable of winning it, of that you are definitely certain. But their chances today? Even if you’re being optimistic, you’d say it’s doubtful. It doesn’t take an expert to look at Arsenal’s form compared to Chelsea’s and assume the worst.

But Leah is your teammate and girlfriend and most importantly, unlike you, who is riddled with a hamstring injury that will force you to watch this game from the crowd with the other injured Arsenal players, is the one who will actually be playing this must-win final. She needs to believe that they can win it, and she needs to know that you believe she can win it.

As you watch the two teams file out of the tunnel to rapturous applause from the crowd, you’re unbelievably nervous. Much more nervous, in fact, than you’d be if you were actually down there with the team yourself. Playing in a cup final is difficult, but it’s so much more nerve-wracking to watch a cup final and know that you can do absolutely nothing to influence the outcome at all.

Leah, to her credit, looks calm. She’s no stranger to a big final, no stranger to lifting trophies. You know her well, can read her better than most people, but when she’s like this, wearing her stoic game face, even you can’t tell if she’s nervous. She gives off the aura of confidence, and you have to use that to fuel your own belief.

Arsenal can do this. They can win. They can lift the trophy.

But when Kerr scores within two minutes, that belief is gone again as your first thought is oh no, here we go.

You know the others are thinking it too. Beth, sitting in the row in front of you, looks like she would rather be anywhere except for here, watching the team she loves concede an early goal to their biggest rivals.

But then something magical happens. Unlike in previous weeks, previous games, even previous cup finals, instead of dropping their heads and letting Chelsea dominate, Arsenal fights back. They fight for every ball, they raise the tempo of the game, they turn and run and come out on top of every duel like it’s easy work.

You haven’t seen this side of Arsenal before. It’s exciting. It’s enough to remind you why you love this team.

It’s enough to give you the belief you were missing earlier.

Arsenal can win this.

Fifteen minutes gone, and Stina scores. One all. You’re up on your feet, yelling and celebrating with Gio and Beth. Stina, maybe more than anybody else, needed that goal. She makes it look easy, slotting it past the outstretched glove of the Chelsea goalkeeper until the ball ripples against the net.

Game on.

Less than ten minutes later, Katie is taken down in the box and the referee awards Arsenal a penalty. The second goal has been coming, the energy on the pitch from your teammates since they conceded has been unrivalled but you can barely watch as Kim steps up, the image of calmness, and fires the ball into the back of the net for Arsenal’s second.

When Arsenal gets their third goal just seconds before half time, it feels inevitable. As the ball passes the line, Leah’s arms go up in celebration and you’re on your feet once more. 

You feel much calmer in the second half. Arsenal continue to dominate, making it look easy to keep Chelsea’s attacking threat away from their goal. Leah looks comfortable - both her and Rafa are having a strong game at the back and you know that your girlfriend thrives in the pressure of a cup final.

When there are only ten minutes left on the clock, plus whatever gets added for stoppages, you start to feel that the game is all but won. 

As Arsenal are setting up for a corner, and you watch as Leah comes up the pitch to join the red and white bodies hustling for space in the box, an idea comes to mind and you take your phone out of your pocket. You open up your message conversation with Leah and start typing.

My beautiful girl, my amazing champion. You won’t read this until later but I want you to know how proud I am of you. You know as well as I do how much it hurts to be stuck on the sidelines for a game like this but there aren’t the right words to describe what a privilege it is to be able to watch you represent the Arsenal badge. I’m the proudest girlfriend, your number one fan, and you deserve this win. I can’t wait to watch you lift this trophy and celebrate with you. I love you so very much ❤️ 

You press send and drop your phone back into your pocket. You know it’s a risk to send it this early - this is Chelsea after all, and you know they’re fully capable of turning this game around and clawing back two late goals, or more. But as you look down at this Arsenal team, as you look down to where Leah commands the back line, you know it’s not going to happen. They aren’t letting this one get away from them.

And they don’t.

At the full time whistle you flood onto the pitch with the other substitutes and injured players. It’s a blur of pure joy - hugs, screaming, celebrations. 

You feel elated. You can’t believe that two hours ago you thought that winning was impossible. Right now, this team could achieve anything.

You’ve been hugged by almost everyone, even almost put in a headlock by an overjoyed Katie, but you look around for Leah and when you see her your heart melts. 

She’s not yet allowing herself to fully celebrate, a smile on her face but she’s ever the professional and makes sure to commiserate the Chelsea players first, and you watch her wander around, shaking hands with them and hugging the other Arsenal girls.

But then she sees you, and her face cracks open into a huge grin, and the celebrations begin. 

Leah holds her arms out wide and you run towards her, hamstring injury be damned, and throw yourself at her. Your legs wrap around her waist but she’s strong enough to take your weight, even shows off a bit by supporting you entirely with one arm while she raises her other fist high in the air in triumph. You wrap your own arms around her, almost smothering her until she lowers you back down to the ground and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“We won,” Leah says, almost in disbelief. “We actually won.”

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to melt into Leah’s side, your arm snaking around her back and squeezing her waist before you break apart.

And then it’s a blur again. You watch in pride as Leah lifts the trophy with Kim, and there’s a lot of champagne and even more jumping up and down in celebration, before you finally make it back to the changing room.

The celebrations continue inside and you and Leah pose together for a few photos with the trophy, then get a few group shots with some of the others, before the trophy gets passed around further, and you finally drop down onto the bench next to Leah.

“I never doubted you,” you tell her.

“Yes you did,” she counters, her mouth curling up into a smile.

“Huh?”

“Before the game. You were terrified. You said you knew we were gonna win but you didn’t.”

“How did you know?” you ask, your cheeks turning red, though you try telling yourself it’s just from the champagne.

“Babe, I know you,” Leah grins. Her hand finds your thigh, and she adds, “But you wanted me to believe we could win. And you wanted me to believe that you thought we could win. That’s what matters. When we conceded so early, all I thought about was you. Making you proud, winning this for you. This,” Leah holds up the medal still hanging around her neck, “means nothing compared to this.”

She drops the medal and touches your mouth, using her fingertips to push the corner of your mouth upwards into a smile.

“Idiot,” you say, swatting her hand away. “Check your phone.”

Leah fumbles around in her belongings until she locates her phone. Predictably, she’s overwhelmed with notifications, people wanting to congratulate her on the win, but she opens up the message you sent during the game and you sit in silence as she reads.

You feel incredibly vulnerable watching her read it but you stand by your words, even more so now that she’s sitting there with a medal around her neck having lifted the trophy. But once she’s finished reading your message, she turns to you, her eyes shining.

“That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read,” Leah tells you, her face cracking open into a huge grin as her knee nudges against yours affectionately.

“I sent it during the second half,” you explain. “I knew you were going to win. Maybe I didn’t before the game, but when I saw you down there, I didn’t doubt it at all. Well, maybe for like two minutes after they scored, but then I knew you’d win.”

“We won,” Leah corrects you. “I know you didn’t play today but this is your victory too. And very soon you’ll be back and winning more of these.”

She reaches for the medal hanging around your own neck and runs her thumb against the metal disk. You’re careful about PDA, especially when there’s so many cameras around and you have no idea what will be uploaded to social media that you might be in the background of, but you really want to kiss Leah right now.

But you’re saved, or interrupted, from doing anything by Katie, who lets out an animalistic yell, socks skidding on the floor of the changing room as she runs past and sprays you both generously in the face with the bottle of champagne in her hands as she goes.

“She really knows how to pick her moments, doesn’t she?” you say, as you wipe champagne from your eyebrows.

“Come on,” Leah says, getting to her feet and offering out a hand to help you get up too. “We’re not done celebrating yet. Conti Cup Champions baby!”

[haikyu-mp4]

Fan behaviour

word count; 2898 – f!reader, manga spoilers

Hoshiumi was looking for the right entrance at nationals when he saw you for the first time. You were dashingly beautiful and looking frankly a bit lost. His stare shamelessly settled on you, already memorising your pretty features. Weirdly enough, they seemed somewhat familiar.

You must have felt the burning stare, eyes finally meeting his and just barely startling him. He opened his mouth, about to make some smart comment that would be one of his first attempts at flirting, but he wasn’t given the chance. “Hoshiumi Korai,” you said, crossing your arms. You were interesting and spoke confidently. He watched in awe as a small smile fell on your face. She knows me?

“Have we met?” he asked, sounding annoyed even if he didn’t mean to. He wished he knew your name too, if only so that you wouldn’t have the upper hand on the conversation.

“They say you’re the new little giant,” you say, stepping closer slowly and not exactly answering him. As you came closer, Korai could see that you were slightly taller than him.

“So you’re a fan.” he teased, raising his chin as if it made him taller.

“You might face Karasuno on the court soon, I’d rather you see me as competition,” you say, not backing up and sticking to your sweet, bordering on smug, smile.

“Karasuno… Then I look forward to beating you,” he said, already knowing that it was a match he was dying to play. No less now that the mystery girl was involved.

“Good luck.”

Unfortunately, Kamomedai defeated Karasuno after Hinata was benched with a fever. You almost felt out of breath watching Hoshiumi call out to Hinata that he would be waiting for him as the little tangerine was escorted off the court. Hoshiumi’s stature and voice had you wrapped around his finger from the sidelines.

Korai celebrated with his teammates after their win, and he was only spared a few three seconds to meet your eyes through the crowd before getting scooped up in celebrations again. You had more important things to do anyway, like support your younger brother through his first loss of the season.

You two didn’t see Hoshiumi much for your third year. You came to cheer for some of Tobio’s games when they got to nationals again and purposefully looked for the white-haired boy but didn’t find yourself lucky. Sometimes you wondered if he looked for you too and the two of you just missed each other. Then it was off to university, leaving that silly crush behind.

Kageyama Tobio, your younger brother by one year, told you about Hoshiumi Korai when he went to the All-Japan training camp in his first year. You simply had to research this guy who thought he was all that. There wasn’t much to find, he didn’t enjoy interviews, but that’s how you knew his name when you two first met. Tobio had called you in the evening one day while at the camp, saying that some guys were trying to pick fights with him even though he couldn’t quite understand it. You adored your clueless brother and just told him to keep being himself and make the most out of his time there. His skillset would speak for itself. He eventually left the camp with a good experience and new inspiration, and you welcomed him home to hear him talk about what the floor was made of. However, your mind kept going back to this little guy with white hair that made Tobio think that Hinata could fly even higher. If you hadn’t been so distracted by that, maybe you would have noticed how bothered Tobio was with Atsumu’s comment about his playstyle.

When said dear little brother got accepted to join the Schweiden Adlers, you were thrilled! Not just because it was a team you used to watch on television, but because that also happened to be where Hoshiumi ended up. Call it silly, but your little crush on him hadn’t exactly worn off as he just got a bit taller and more handsome every year. He was eventually forced to start doing some interviews, and who could blame you for watching them? It’s not fan behaviour, you just.. like.. him?

It might be impossible to believe, but you finally met him again without meaning to. You barely let Tobio open his front door before pushing your way inside, a huge bowl of food that your older sister made you bring from her place settled in your arms. “Tobio, hii. Miwa told me to bring you some food so I’ll just stuff this in the fridge,” you rambled as you toed off your shoes and strolled into his living room. “Oh.. sorry…”

There sat Tobio’s new friends, Hoshiumi and Ushijima. Your brother came up beside you and complained about you just walking in as if you lived in his apartment, so you fired back by complaining about his ungratefulness. Poor visitors didn’t know what they should do and ended up just awkwardly waiting for you two to stop bickering. Ushiwaka tried to share a look with Hoshiumi, but the shorter man was stuck looking at you with his mouth slightly open in awe.

“Well if it isn’t my greatest competitor.” he interrupted, leaning forward in his seat with an incredibly charming, lop-sided grin.

And as you and Kageyama both faced him with incredulous looks that were nearly identical, it clicked. They’re siblings. Tobio had no idea what his teammate was talking about, but you finally fell into a smile at the fond memory, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Little giant, you remember me?”

“How could I forget that sweet look of defeat when we beat you.” he countered, standing up even though there was a whole coffee table between you two. Let’s just say he never worked on his flirting techniques as much as his volleyball techniques. Kageyama watched with a frown but didn’t want to interrupt Korai.

You handed the food over to your brother before rolling up your sleeves like you were squaring up, squinting at the white-haired man for a moment before acknowledging the other one as well. “Sorry, hi. Kageyama y/n, nice to finally meet you,” you said calmly, bowing to Ushiwaka who sharply bowed back with a short answer of his name and a greeting.

Tobio walked to the kitchen to put away the food while you turned your attention back to the shortest man. Hoshiumi hadn’t heard your name before, but now he quite liked it. Like he couldn’t wait for it to roll off his tongue.

“You should come to our game next week.” Hoshiumi blurted out confidently, sitting back down in his seat and glancing to his side where there was space for you to sit down. Not that he dared to ask if you were staying.

“Right, I brought your ticket,” Tobio mumbled, as if suddenly remembering that he had invited you to that one too. You were still quite interested in the sport, helping Tobio practice when you weren’t out with your own friends while growing up. “Here.”

“Thanks,” you said while putting your shoes back on. You playfully ruffled your brother’s hair before waving at the rest of the crowd, letting your eyes linger for a second longer on Korai. “I’ll be there as your fan this time, play well,” you said before leaving so none of the men could see the light blush that covered your cheeks. Hoshiumi was left feeling breathless from the interaction. When you know, you know.

The visit became rather short as you had to move on with other errands, but now you had something exciting to tell your friends while sitting down for coffee tomorrow.

Game day arrived and you put on some of the Adlers merch that Tobio got you before heading to the stadium. You went with Hinata and the two of you enjoyed catching up in the best seats, ready for the teams to come out and play. You sent a couple of snaps of the crowd to your brother as well as a couple of selfies with his friend, hoping to hype him up and show him where your seats were. The number on your shirt said 16, which you just assumed was Tobio’s number since he was the one you should be cheering on, but Hinata had given it a curious look when he sat down. He didn’t know you were so close to Hoshiumi but he didn’t want to intrude and ask.

The game started and everyone around you quickly learnt that you and Hinata could make up a whole cheering squad on your own. Whenever there was anything you could react to, you two would be on your feet and cheering or booing the loudest out of everyone. After a particularly nice kill from Hoshiumi, set up by Tobio, you pointed to the white-haired man and yelled with joy. “Nice kill, little giant!”

Hoshiumi looked at you in surprised glee that suddenly turned into a shock that he had to quickly shake off so they could continue the game. His eyes had gone from your face down to your shirt before he quickly turned away, making you finally sit down and rethink your life choices.

“This is Hoshiumi’s number, huh?” you asked Hinata rhetorically, already feeling the embarrassment and planning out how to destroy the one who gave it to you. You finally noticed the number on the original owner’s shirt and covered your red face with your hands. Now you certainly looked like a fan.

After the match, you and Hinata made your way down and to the back, showing VIP passes to the guards so you could wait in the closest hallway outside the locker rooms. The two of you had gotten into the hype again after your embarrassment and were now on cloud nine after the win. Both reenacting your favourite moments and talking over each other.

Hoshiumi found you very beautiful the first time you two crossed paths, and that never changed. He got so flustered seeing you with his number, but it also boosted his morale for sure. Tobio smirked sideways at him when they were changing, finding himself pretty clever. And it only got better when Ushijima got involved.

“Are you and Kageyama’s sister romantically involved, Hoshiumi?” he asked, ever so formal and making Kageyama crack up. The shortest boy was sputtering in disbelief, face tomato red.

“No! We’re not!” he denied as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. It had.

“Oh. Okay.”

When they exited the locker rooms, Hoshiumi and Kageyama found you and Hinata outside, excitedly jumping around and not seeming to notice anyone outside your bubble. Hoshiumi felt this old pride bubble in his stomach, wondering how tall Hinata had gotten now and if you ever went to a black jackals game with his number on your shirt.

So he cleared his throat, making you quickly turn around, flustered by how you could suddenly see his face up close. He was thinking the same thing, and the other two guys were in disbelief at how neither of you decided to start the conversation.

“Nice jersey, y/n.” your brother teased childishly, making you move your stare to glare at him.

“You-“ you started saying before jumping at him and pulling his hair angrily. That was always the best way to get him to surrender his towering height so you could rub the top of his head until he gave up. The older sibling always wins.

“Let go! You said you were a fan so I got you his jersey!” he complained, embarrassed that some more teammates might see this. You did as he asked, dusting your hands off and stepping back beside Hinata. Hoshiumi found you entertaining and even chuckled a little, finally out of the stupor your pretty face left him in earlier.

“I am flattered,” Korai said, making you look back at him and trying to contain your blush. Now he’s all cocky about it, and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive. “Truly.”

“Careful or I’ll beat you up just the same,” you mumbled, biting back a smile. Now, you might think all Hoshiumi could see in that sentence was a challenge, but he was already trying to win another competition.

“I bet you’d look good doing that too,” he said cheekily, cheering on the inside when you turned away first and started walking towards the exit. That’s a win.

“Are we going out to eat or not?”

After getting out into fresh air, you cooled off from your flustered state and fell into more normal conversation. The atmosphere was nice and mostly filled with friendly bickering, but only the two in question seemed to notice their eyes drifting to each other every so often when Hinata and Kageyama were busy yelling at each other.

The dinner was nice, like a group of friends who had very obvious, growing crushes on each other. You sat beside Hinata, across from Korai, and to say it annoyed Korai was an understatement. This was the one thing he absolutely wouldn’t lose to Hinata. He wanted his fingers to accidentally brush against your thigh.

So after everyone went their separate ways, he texted the orange-haired man. Something blunt along the lines of are you interested in Kageyama?

Shoyo: which one?

Korai stared at the message for a moment before chuckling. The girl?

Shoyo: not like you are;)

Korai put a thumbs-up reaction to the message, laughing to himself at how he didn’t even realise Hinata might have a thing for Tobio. Guess it’s a competition, first to ask their Kageyama out. This is just how his brain works.

Hoshiumi is sitting in front of the TV in his apartment and does what he finds to be the most tactical next step. He calls Hirugami and updates him on everything.

“Your heart skipped a beat? Who are you and what did you do to Korai?”

“Shut up,” he said, clearly not angry at all but rather embarrassed that his best friend was calling him out on his uncharacteristic heart palpitations. “It’s so weird, I even imagined her meeting my mom. And you. You’d get along, I bet. She’s like me but sweeter.”

“That’s exactly what I always thought you were missing. A little sweetness.” Hirugami said. It was very clearly supposed to be teasing but Korai got a little stuck on it, a small dazed smile falling on his face as he thought about you rambling on by the dinner table earlier. He looked around his relatively boring apartment, at how there was perfect space for another person cuddled up to his side on the couch. “Korai?”

“Sorry. I just think you had a point,” he admitted. “I have her number now, is it rude to ask her out over text?”

Hoshiumi stared at the message he wanted to send you and for the first time in a long while, he felt a little extra insecure. What if you didn’t actually like him? You could probably get someone like Ushijima. Someone taller.

No. He will be whatever he needs to be to deserve your attention. If only he knew he already was the object of all your desires.

Just like the first time you met, you got ahead of him. He saw your name pop up on his screen and he let out an audible gasp. You played really well today, I was proud to wear your number:)

Korai wrote and rewrote about ten different responses, even requesting some help from his aforementioned friend. Thank you! I appreciated seeing you there.

It was a stale and basic answer and made him subconsciously bite at the tip of his fingernail as he watched your chat. He should have said you looked good in it or something, damn it. Nonetheless, you didn’t disappoint. Would you like to call? I’m bored.

And so he spent the rest of the evening listening to you talk and laughing with you. He moved around his apartment, played with a volleyball he had lying around and held the weirdest poses on the sofa because all his attention was on your voice. By the time you hesitantly thanked each other for the time spent, it was the middle of the night and he didn’t have any other choice but to go to sleep if he wanted to make it to practice in the morning. As he tossed and turned in his bed that night, he couldn’t stop berating himself for not securing a date.

Instead, you and Hoshiumi got into the habit of calling each other almost every evening. It made him happy and built up his confidence enough that he eventually dared ask if he could take you out, just the two of you.

Your first date was fantastic. He took you to play laser tag and the other teams didn’t stand a chance against the two of you. After getting the gear off, you were laughing on your way out and he led you to a restaurant close by. Well planned, of course. You shared two different dishes and it really just felt like you were catching up on years of not being friends.

And what better way to finish catching up on your friendship than ending said friendship with a sweet kiss?

masterlist

[jeynearrynofthevale]

NHL Salary Cap 101

The nhl salary cap can be weird, convoluted, and hard to understand. So, if you’re curious about some of the basics such as how players are paid, why they’re send down sometimes, and how deadline acquisitions work, this should be a good starting point!

The 2024-25 salary cap is 88 million. That means that a team cannot spend more than 88 million total over the course of the 186 day nhl regular season. Because players are not paid during playoffs, teams are allowed to be over the cap. There is also a salary cap floor. Teams must spend at least 65 million on players.

Every nhl team is required to have a minimum of 20 players (18 skaters and 2 goalies) and a maximum of 23 on their roster. Most teams want at least 21 or 22 players so in the case of an injury, guys can step in. Every nhl player must have an annual salary of at least 775,000. And no individual player can be paid more than 20% of the salary cap, which currently means 17.6 million. Interestingly, the highest paid nhl players make much less than the other highest paid athletes but the floor for nhl players is actually higher with the lowest paid player being better compensated relative to other major sports.

So, the salary cap essentially forces you to balance your team. You cannot just have the 10 best players in the league on one team because you cannot pay them all and retain them.

One of the details that’s most important to understanding the minutiae of the salary cap is that nhl players are paid daily rather than annually. Because there are 186 days in the nhl regular season, a player with an average annual value (aav) of 10 million is actually making $53,763 for every day they are on the nhl roster. Players can also be sent down from the nhl to the ahl. A major reason teams do this is for cap relief. Basically, it saves them money and cap space.

Up to 1.15 million in salary can be buried in the ahl. This means that sending down your 10 million player (even if they’re playing really badly) is pretty much untenable. Because you still are counting 8.85 million on the cap for someone not on your roster. But a player making less than 2 million is an easy player to send down when you want cap space, especially if they don’t require waivers.

So, just as players’ salaries are calculated down to the day, so is the cap. Because the cap essentially gives you a set amount of money to spend over the whole nhl season. So, if you start the season with a roster that has a total cap hit of 87 million, you have 1 million in cap space that can accrue over the course of the season. Say, you maintain that exact roster with zero changes for the 1st 100 days of the season. Then you have that 1 million to spend entirely on the last 86 days. And because players are paid on a daily basis, you only have to pay that player for 86 days. So, you can do some basic algebra: (86/186)x = 1,000,000 where x is the player’s full aav. You solve for x and find that you can afford to add a player with an aav of $2,162,790 if you wait till 100 days into the season to trade for them or sign them.

Now, like I said before, you can also send players down to the ahl to save cap space throughout the nhl season. You can even do this just on days where no game is happening. This is generally referred to as a paper transaction. And this is done because every dollar can matter when making a trade. If you have a young player making 1 million dollars who is waivers exempt (meaning they can be sent down without giving other teams the chance to obtain them), every day they are not technically on the nhl roster, is a day you save $5,376. And you can tack on any cap space you save on a day to day basis to be used at the trade deadline.

Are there any other ways to add players at the deadline? Yes. The Vegas Golden Knights, Tampa Bay Lightning, and Chicago Blackhawks have all famously used ltir in the process of winning championships. Ltir is “long-term injury relief” and any player who will miss at least 10 games and 24 days of the season is eligible to be placed on it. Ltir essentially gives you a player’s cap hit back while they are injured. So, when Mark Stone goes on his annual ltir, he stops playing for the duration of the regular season, the Knights use his cap space at the deadline to add other multimillion dollar players, and then they are able to use both Stone and those players in the playoffs.

What are the downsides of ltir then? Why isn’t every single team using it? Well, for one, players need to actually be injured and not capable of playing to be placed on it (though this line can be blurry) and must come off of it once healthy. And perhaps more importantly, if any player on a team is on ltir, that team cannot accrue any cap space while they are on it. So, it can be more limiting in some ways.