#like why are you airing out your young players business

[paulodybaeeela]

Petition to get Gio Reyna a new family.

[stevehours]

drinking game

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, drinking, smut

wc: 4.4k

As far as first dates go, this is the lamest one you’ve been on. Which you’d somewhat anticipated when you agreed to it. Steve Harrington is a couple years younger than you. The kid’s barely twenty. But he is incredibly handsome and well, it’s been awhile for you. Steve’s wooing skills haven’t graduated high school, like he has. He insists on picking you up, gets to show off the car his daddy bought him. It is nice. Must’ve cost a fortune when he was gifted it on his sixteenth birthday. The damn thing has a telephone in it. Power seats and windows. And the seats heat up, he tells you. Though in the middle of August, it’s not really necessary. It has great speakers, proven by the cheesy, 70’s baby making music he’s blasting from them. You can’t imagine Steve actually listens to this, but that it’s an attempt to get you in the mood.

He brings you to a diner for dinner where he tries to share a milkshake with you and then it’s a trip to the drive-in movies. It’s ripped out of the 50’s. Especially the part where he tries to make out with you, which okay, yes you indulge in until he grabs a handful of your breast.

“Alright, Romeo,” you laugh, pushing him back, “Cool it down a little.”

“Sorry,” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and settles back into the driver's seat. His cheeks are ruddy, either with embarrassment or arousal, you aren’t sure.

“It’s fine—“ you tell him and adjust your blouse, “It’s kind of cute.”

“You’re really pretty,” he blurts out, smiling and it does make you giggle. But you feel a little childish right after, so you shove his head and tell him to keep watching the movie.

Must be a win for Steve because that saccharine smile doesn’t leave his face.

After the movie, he starts driving but not in the direction of your apartment. He glances at you, “I’m having a really good time. Would you be up for maybe coming back to my place? For a drink or something?”

“Your place?” you snort, crossing your arms but you’re already convinced.

Steve blushes again, “Well, I live there. My parents are like, barely home. Business trips and stuff.”

“Alright, Harrington,” you shrug, “It’s early. Let’s do it.”

—

“It’s called Flip, Sip or Strip,” he says, holding up a quarter and looking at you under hooded eyes.

You cackle, fingers delicately holding the crystal wine glass that’s definitely worth more than anything you own. You didn’t know Steve’s parents were so loaded, though the car should’ve been the indicator. The pair of you are sitting in the living room of the Harrington home. It’s so intricately designed, the entire house following the same decorative theme. And it’s remarkably clean for a place a young man lives alone 75% of the time. You wonder if there’s a housekeeper that comes and cleans up after Steve.

“You want to play a drinking game?” you scoff, crossing your legs and you don’t miss the way Steve’s eyes follow the movement.

“You’ve heard of it, then?”

“Not since freshman year of college but, sure, let’s play,” you placate him, leaning back in the chaise lounge. In the back of your mind you’re wondering why expensive furniture is so uncomfortable. Steve scrambles from the equally looking stiff couch, opening what you can assume is his parents liquor cabinet. Under the record player that plays that same cheesy, romantic 70’s R&B he was blasting in the BMW.

He sets two glasses and a bottle of tequila on the coffee table and then pats the cushion next to him on the couch.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here? So you can actually see me?”

“Good point,” he grins excitedly and then says, “You first. Call it.”

“Heads,” you slur in a sultry voice, smirking at the way he looks back at you all slack-jawed.

Then Steve flips the coin in the air, catches it in his palm and slaps it on his forearm. He uncovers it and gets this real mischievous smile on his face. He doesn’t even have to announce it, you know the coin is tails up. You laugh and lean forward to grab the bottle of tequila, pouring yourself a small shot and downing it with ease. Then you extend your palm out and Steve hands you the coin. You watch him expectantly until he says, “Tails.”

You flip it, catching it in your hand and flipping it onto your arm. You giggle as you uncover it, wiggling your eyebrows at Steve when you tell him, “Heads.”

He shucks off his coat, tossing it behind him and making grabby hands for the quarter. You roll your eyes as you drop it into his hand and tell him, “Heads.”

Steve flips the coin and then his face scrunches up in disdain, “Heads.”

You snatch the coin from his hand as you cackle triumphantly. A few more rounds go on, you take off your heels with Steve’s eyes glued to your feet and he takes a shot. Then you’re challenged again to either take a drink or remove another bit of clothing. And you’re honestly feeling that shot of tequila so you’d rather not take another so quick. Hence, your tights come off. Steve watches the motion and chews on his bottom lip.

“You a virgin, Harrington?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together.

He laughs, almost offended as he shakes his head, “Far from it. You’re just too good to look at. Anyone tell you that you could be a model?”

“Flattery will get you almost anywhere. Heads or tails, big boy?” you smooth your thumb against the warm quarter.

He guesses correctly, but you don’t on your turn. And so off comes your blouse. Steve spreads his legs across from you, hands smoothing down his jeans as he grins salaciously at you. He incorrectly guesses tails and then pulls off his polo, exposing this jungle of chest hair you’re shocked by. A smug smirk spreads across his lips as your mouth hangs open. And he’s got all these moles decorating his gorgeous skin like constellations. He combs his own fingers through his chest hair and leans back on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Still has his Nikes on.

You scowl as you throw the quarter at him, “Heads.”

And you lose, but you opt for another shot as you feel far more exposed than Harrington is.

A few more rounds leads to you both pleasantly buzzed and in your underwear.

“This game is stupid,” you decide when you incorrectly guess again.

Steve giggles and tosses the coin on the coffee table, “That’s okay. I’d rather take those off myself anyways.”

You hate that it works, makes your thighs warm up with dull arousal as you take your eyes over Steve’s body. He’s lean, soft but very faintly muscular. And those moles go all over him. All the way down to his feet. You heave a sigh and stand from the chaise lounge, stepping in between Steve’s legs and grabbing a hole of his square jaw. He blinks up at you, mouth ajar with fucking stars in those round, brown eyes.

“You have a really stupid, cute face,” you tell him, pushing his thick hair off his forehead.

“Uh, thanks?” he replies and you straddle his lap, pushing both hands into the waves of chestnut hair. You look at it, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have highlights?” you ask.

“Naturally— from the sun and—“ he starts but you interrupt him.

“Bullshit,” you grab onto his jaw again, “You get highlights in your hair.”

“No, I don’t,” he narrows his eyes and you completely seat yourself on his lap, feeling his erection press against your ass. You grind down on it and he lets out a gargled moan, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“You do,” you tell him and then get your lips on his jaw, feeling the subtle stubble against your face. You lick against his jawline, pushing your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to give you more room. You begin kissing down his neck and his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you up and down against his strained, hard cock. The whole hair argument is completely forgotten by Steve, his hips jerk weakly as he leans his head back and lets out these pretty, soft sounds. The kind of sounds that make your stomach fill with excited, horny butterflies.

You mark up his neck, the skin purpling from your pleasurable abuse. Suck and bite until bruises form and Steve’s whimpering underneath you. You relent on his neck, pulling his head back to look at you as you writhe against him. His hands skate up your sides and back down, landing on your ass and pushing you harder against his erection. And you get a real good look at his pretty face. His eyes tilt down slightly at the ends and they’re so full of desire. Wonderfully expressive and beautiful. You look up at his brows, smiling to yourself as you notice they’re manicured, just ever so slightly. This man takes care of himself. More than most. His complexion is remarkably smooth. You drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose to the tip, smiling at the sharpness of it. Then you settle your eyes on his lips as they quirk up into a smile, he likes how you’re looking at him. Admiring him. His lips are plump, pink from the way he’s been biting at them all night.

“You’re pretty,” you whisper, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip and he kisses the pad of it. Sending your stomach ablaze as you roll down on him a little firmer.

“You’re prettier,” he replies, voice husky.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” you ask, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I haven’t asked you, yet,” he tells you, smirking as he smooths his hand up your back to your bra. Unclasps it with two fingers, impressing a gasp from you and he smiles, straight and white teeth on display.

You help pull the straps from your arms and discard the lacy fabric aside, wrapping your arms around his neck again and then leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. You don’t think too much about what he’d just said, this is fun and you’ve just met. This is the first date, you barely know each other. But while this started out as a lame date, you feel uncharacteristically smitten at this point.

Steve kisses like he needs it. Hungry. Like his oxygen supply comes from your lungs and he’s been suffocating all night. Makes you breathless and dizzy. You whimper into each desperate exchange, sucking on his tongue whenever he slips it past your lips. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling you completely flush against him. Your hands get tangled in his hair yet again, a little obsessed with the way it feels between your fingers. Your noses keep bumping into each other and his pokes your eye a handful of times but it doesn’t slow either of you down.

You lift yourself up and Steve offers a whine until he sees you’re moving to take off your underwear, then he’s helping get them off and you’re situating yourself between his legs on the floor. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and peeling them down his thighs, gasping when his impressive length pops out and slaps against his abdomen. You give yourself a beat to look at it as Steve spreads his legs and writhes against the couch. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wrap your hands around the base of him. Your fingers don’t even meet when they’re circled around his girth.

“Christ,” you mutter and he laughs, a soft and almost insecure sound.

“I- I know, it’s kind of—“

“Huge?”

“Scary?” he asks, tilting his head as he gazes down at you.

It’s your turn to laugh, wondering how many girls have told him that. You’re not scared, no, the opposite.

“Not scary,” you tell him, “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“Yeah? I’ve… I’ve been told it’s too—“ he swallows and his eyes squeeze shut as you stroke his length firmly.

“Too big?” you offer and work your hand up and down his gargantuan cock slowly, “I like a challenge, Stevie.”

He laughs again, but it’s a breathless laugh. He opens his eyes again and watches as you lick a broad stripe up the underside of his cock. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting with a sweet whine. You wrap your lips around the head of him, tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit. As you grip onto the base of him and attempt to take him into your mouth, you can feel just how hard he is. You lock your eyes on his, slowly sinking down on his cock. Drool slips past your lips and down the rest of his length, your hand slides up and smears the natural lube over him. You continue like that, fingers moving up and down where you can’t fit him in your mouth. You make a conscious effort to breathe out of your nose and use your tongue while you bob up and down on his cock.

Steve watches intently, thighs shaking as he tries his hardest not to buck his hips up. Just the size of him has spit pooling in your mouth and seeping down his length all the way to his heavy balls. His face looks extra pretty right now. Dazed and drunk on the pleasure, perhaps some of the tequila too.

His hands tangle into your hair, holding it out of the way as you continue your way up and down his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathes out, chest heaving as he praises you, “Doing so good for me.”

Those words hit you, make you moan on his length and wiggle your hips. You try to take him as deep as you can before pulling off, working your fist over his cock as you catch your breath. Once he’s not in your mouth, he bucks his hips and moans out shakily.

“Oh, fuck…” he seethes, his toes curling into the carpet.

You move your mouth to his balls then, still working his shaft in your hand and you start licking at his sack. Keeping your eyes trained on his gorgeous face. Steve blinks rapidly, rolling his hips up and spewing the prettiest little moans. And you’re kind of obsessed with his face at this moment, the absolute pleasure painted on it.

“So fucking pretty,” you tell him because you really can’t help yourself and Steve seems to like it, tugging on your hair and whining.

“C’mere… wanna kiss you,” he babbles out and you stand on shaky legs before crawling back into his lap and kissing him sloppily. He wraps his arms around your middle and thrusts his hips up, the side of his cock gliding through your folds and punching a surprised moan from you, which he swallows. Then his hands move down and firmly plant on your asscheeks. At first you assumed Steve was close to coming but the way he’s grinding you down on his cock tells you otherwise— he just really wanted to kiss you.

Then Steve pulls away, “Can I taste you? Please?”

You’re not inclined to say no to that, nodding your head emphatically and standing up from his lap again. You make a move to lay down on the couch, but Steve’s laying down first and grabbing at you.

“Sit on my face, please,” he whines and you flush, but do as he asks. Maneuvering your leg over his shoulders, you hover and look down at him. As if to ask if he’s sure. Which he answers by pulling you down on him, his warm and wet mouth meeting your dripping cunt. You moan out, hands grabbing onto the armrest to keep yourself upright as Steve devours your aching pussy. He’s moaning into you, seemingly loving the taste as he sucks and licks at your folds. Once you’re comfortable and downright desperate, you begin riding Steve’s gorgeous face. His hands are planted firm on your ass, guiding you through it.

“I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” he manages to tell you, pulling you off of him just the smallest inch before he’s dragging your pussy back down against his eager mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” you mutter out, “You’re so good at that…”

He really is, uses his whole face to do it. Nose rubbing against your clit, tongue teasing your hole while you drip all over his chin. You try to look down at him, lock eyes with his dazed, pussy-drunk ones but the pleasure gets overwhelming and your eyes start to flutter shut as you grind down on his expert tongue and really use his nose to get off. Your stomach fills with fire, your release gaining in ok you quickly. And once Steve’s tongue penetrates you, you’re a goner. Crying out his name in desperate pleas as you ride your orgasm out. You’re shaking when you pull off of him abruptly, worried that you’re about to suffocate him. And as you stand, looking down at him, you can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. Steve looks like he just came. Blinking slowly, a pleased smile plastered on his pink lips.

He stands with you, laces your fingers and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips but you don’t mind, giggling into it.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?” he asks once he pulls away.

You nod, shyly and looking up at him with stars in your eyes. He guides you up the stairs, stopping along the way to steal kisses. You’re not sure the last time you felt so much romance tangled in with sex. He presses you to the wall next to his bedroom door, swoops his mouth down to capture yours in a disproportionate chaste kiss. Again, linking your fingers and holding them above your head as he connects his forehead to yours.

“Don’t laugh— okay?”

You giggle, gazing up at him curiously, “Sorry. I won’t.” It’s unclear exactly what Steve’s asking you not to laugh at, but once he opens his bedroom door, you get it. It’s the ugliest bedroom you’ve ever seen. Everything is drenched in plaid, the wallpaper, the curtains, the bedspread. All so offensive. You bite your lip to stifle the laugh, but it all dissolves when you turn to watch Steve close the door and get a glimpse at his cock which is very much still hard. Then his bedroom doesn’t seem so silly anymore. Your hand wraps around his length as you press him against the door, kissing him filthy all over again.

Steve whimpers from the touch, muffled against your tongue as he places his hand on your face and holds you while he kisses back.

“I need you,” he slurs into your mouth and you nod, kissing him before you walk towards his bed. You lay yourself on it, head on his pillows as you bring your hands up to fondle your own tits. Watching as Steve’s hand falls down to his cock, stroking himself slowly. He then climbs on top of you, kissing you tenderly before he’s reaching over to his nightstand but something tells you to stop him, so you do. Hand on his wrist.

“No… I,” you swallow, lust driving this decision completely, “I wanna feel you… just you.”

Steve inhales sharply, moves his hand to push his cock down for some relief as he says to you, “Fuck… are you sure?”

You wrap your arms around his neck as you nod slowly at him, spreading your legs for him. He drops his head down to kiss you, all slow and gentle. His hand slips between your bodies, grabbing his cock and teasing the head of it against your aching center. You gasp softly, hands tangled in his hair as your hips roll, causing the tip of his cock to catch on your dripping hole. Steve sinks in slowly, inch by inch. It’s quite the stretch, has your jaw dropping as you adjust. His cock is hot and thick, you can feel it pulsing as it drags against your walls. It’s so delicious and heady, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your hips roll up until he’s completely sheathed inside you. And Steve’s gentle, doesn’t jack hammer into you immediately like most men would. He stays still and lets you get used to the feeling, kissing you softly and tenderly between needy moans and gasps.

“Feel so full,” you confess in a whisper and that gets Steve thrusting into you, groaning lowly against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, “You’re so fucking wet and tight… squeezing my cock so good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moan, tugging his hair while he slowly builds a steady and deep rhythm. His hand moves to grab your thigh, squeezing it while he grinds down into you. The tip of his cock prods against that spongy, sweet spot inside you. Punches a yelp out of you to which he looks down at you, panicked.

“You okay?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

You nod, scratching down his back as you plead, “Fuck, yes… right there, do it again.”

A smile spreads across his lips, pretty teeth showing as he thrusts into you again. And again. Your back arches with it, pressing your tits to his chest as your legs spread further on their own volition. You place your hand on his cheek, watching his stunning face as he sinks in and out of your pussy, the filthiest sounds echoing in the room. He licks his lips, brow furrowing as his thrusts get harder and faster. Each time, he rubs against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Dragging the most pornographic sounds you’ve ever made from your throat. You’re not sure you could recover from this, suddenly really hoping he does ask you to be his girlfriend. The two of you have barely even started and it’s the best you’ve ever felt in your life. His cock filling you in a way that makes you want to cry, in a good way.

“Steeeeeve…” you moan out, low and uncontrollably. “Fuck… that’s so good. Just like that, baby… yes…”

His lips are on your ear now, lowly telling you, “Taking me so well… such a good girl…”

Your cunt clenches around him, little desperate and pleasure filled pants and moans pouring out of you. “Steve, Steve… oh, Steve!” you chant, scratching down his back a second time.

His hips still and he laughs, burying his face in your neck as he mumbles, “Fuck- fuck, don’t wanna cum yet.”

You grab his face and pull his lips to yours, unhooking your legs from his waist as you kiss him deeply. Tongues lazily curling together, panting into each other's open mouths. You give him a beat to come back down, then you’re flipping the pair of you. Get Steve on his back and you on top of him, without disconnecting where you two meet. You place your hands on his furry chest, feeling the jungle of hair you’ve been staring at since he took his shirt off that night. His hands grip onto your hips, gasping and panting as he stares up at you, awestruck look on his beautiful face.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him again and he laughs, that wonderful breathless sound you’re starting to fall in love with. Which is dangerous but right now, you don’t care.

“I’ve got the prettiest girl on top of me… and she’s telling me I’m pretty,” he mumbles out, dazed smile on his face.

“You are,” you assure him just as you start to rock your hips, face confronting as you feel his cock prod at that sweet spot deep inside you again. Your eyes cross from it, eyebrows knitting together as you bite your lip and you begin riding him steadily. Slow and gentle at first but soon enough, you’re bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby… just like that…” Steve babbles out, snaking his hand around and his thumb finds your clit easily. Works in quick, firm circles. Has you riding him even faster and harder as your climax threatens to rush over you. Building and building so quickly.

“Steve…. Steve?” you whimper.

Sweet, lopsided smile on his face when he asks, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you confess, scratching your nails against his chest as you grind down on his length.

Steve keeps up his ministrations on your clit, doesn’t switch anything up. But he heaves this happy, aroused laugh and tells you, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Use me.”

Your body tenses when it hits you, sending you over the edge and you collapse on top of him. Face buried in his neck as you spew cries and moans. He grabs your hips, holds you steady and plants his feet on the mattress. That’s when he lets loose, thrusts into you with everything he’s worth. Mouthing praise against your ear as he fucks you silly.

Your eyes roll back, his thrusts punching repetitive and loud moans from your lungs.

“Fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns and squirms underneath you but you make no attempt to move.

“Fill me up, Steve,” you whisper against his ear, kissing under it and then telling him, “Wanna feel it. Cum inside me, baby.”

He lets out a gargled moan, arms wrapping around you firmly as he thrusts one last time and releases inside you, coating your walls with his spend. Your lips meet again, lazily and spent kisses as you both come down.

Steve strokes your hair, holds you close and kisses your cheek before he asks, “You wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.. yeah, I do,” you reply, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. “As long as you make you breakfast.”

“I’ll make you anything you want,” he says with a smile before flipping you over and kissing you deeply.

And okay… maybe it wasn’t such a lame date.

[thewritingofamadwoman]

That’s My Girl

Another attempt at writing Roy Kent. Inspired by the amazingly sweet @onceuponaoneshotfanfic

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Tons of fluff, more of Roy Kent’s potty mouth, a secret relationship and Jamie Tartt being the reader and Roy’s unofficial child.

Enjoy!!

The second the words “no curfew tonight” came out of Ted Lasso’s mouth, you just knew the evening was going to be a fun one. Both you and Roy had agreed on the way to Amsterdam that you’d both spend the last night together, sightseeing and then staying in bed for hours while everyone else was none the wiser.

As the team’s co-pr manager, it was imperative that you tagged along on the trip for business reasons; Rebecca also told you if you didn’t come along and enjoy yourself she’d purposely make your life hell. So here you are, on the charter bus with the rest of your friends. You looked down at your phone, the time reading 5pm. Roy suggested meeting up at around 9pm, when everyone else was surely going to be in their rooms. It was the perfect plan…which meant it probably wasn’t going to happen.

You looked over at Roy, who gave you a sly wink before getting up and roaring at Jamie Tartt.

“Not for you Tartt!”

Your beloved got up and grabbed Jamie’s bag, tossing it to Will before storming outside. Jamie, depressed that he’d be spending the rest of his time in Amsterdam training, got up from his seat reluctantly. Before heading out, he stretched and looked back, noticing you seated in the back. As if having a moment of clarity, his brain immediately came up with what he thought was an ingenious plan. He called your name and once you looked up at him, he put his plan into action.

“Hey love, do you have any plans right now?” He smiled, everyone else on the bus discussing their potential curfew free plans.

“Not really, I was gonna head back to my room and nap for a bit I guess. Why?”

Jamie’s smile widened.

“Nahhh a gorgeous girl like you alone in a hotel room? Not happening. Come on, hang out with me and grandad for a bit.”

You laughed, and so did some of the players listening in.

“Fuck it, why not?” You said, and the bus is filled with loud cheers once more as you made your way towards Jamie, who took your hand and pulled you out of the bus with him. The first thing you saw was Roy’s back to the bus as he stretched his legs.

“Took you fucking long enou-what are you doing here?” Roy asked, his face full of genuine surprise. You shrugged and pointed to Jamie who smiled like the cat who caught the canary.

“This stunner was going to go back to the hotel alone and take a nap. In one of the worlds’ most beautiful cities. I couldn’t let that happen. And who better to keep her company than us fine, young gentleman. Well, some of us more young than others, isn’t that right grandad?”

Roy gave Jamie a deadpan expression and growled lowly. You shook your head and chuckled.

“I hope that’s alright? You don’t mind do you, Roy?” You gave the poor man one of your sweetest smiles, one that Roy had fallen in love with over the course of the last few months. Roy sighed and eventually nodded, the thoughts of the night he had planned for the two of you going down the drain. Jamie cheered and punched Roy’s shoulder, jogging backwards with his hands in the air.

“Come on Roy! Lighten up! Here, I’ll run ahead while you two trail behind me. Can’t have gorgeous here run in those heels. Fantastic heels by the way,” Jamie said as he ran his gaze from your heels to your face, winking as he reached your eyes. The striker was doing his absolute best to get Roy to react to him flirting with you. He knew the coach had feelings for you, it was painstakingly obvious. But he doubted the man would ever make a move. So his “genius plan” was to spend the evening turning on the signature Tartt charm as much as he could until Roy had no choice but to confess his love for you. The perfect plan, Jamie thought to himself.

You blushed at the compliment and laughed , shocked that he was flirting so boldly with you in front of your boyfriend. Not that he knew you two were an item, but still. Roy, on the other hand, was glaring so hard at Jamie that it was a surprise the young man hadn’t combusted into flame. Jamie gave you both a very cheeky smile, turned around, and began to run.

“Come on, grandad! Keep up!”

Roy growled and you laughed once more, causing the older man to look at you.

“And what are you laughing at?” Roy grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you two began to walk, keeping Jamie in your sights as he ran up ahead.

“At how easy it is for Jamie Tartt to get you riled up. He’s only being silly, don’t let it bother you,” you smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on Roy’s arm.

“And besides, we did want to sightsee, and now we get to do that earlier than planned,” you added, looking around at the beautiful city around you. Roy scoffed and looked back at you.

“Yeah, I wanted us to sightsee without Jamie Fucking Tartt running around like a child we need to keep on a leash.” You giggled and Roy’s lip ticked upwards, the sound of your laugh being one of his favorite things.

“I don’t know babe, this might be a glimpse into our future,” you teased sweetly, looking at Roy playfully. Once again, Roy snorted and turned to look at you.

“Please, our children will be way more behaved than that twat.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about our future children hmm?” Your heart soared at the thought of Roy seeing a future with you. Roy looked at you dumbfounded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

Your heart melted, and you were about to reply when Jamie suddenly appeared from behind the both of you, squeezing himself in between you and wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Look at you two, looking all chummy. And look at this magnificent city! Have either of you seen the tulip gardens? Or the windmills? We’re actually coming up to the world famous Skinny Bridge, just up ahead. Did you know that it’s one of the most romantic places in the world? Legend says that a kiss between lovers while on this bridge ensures that they will be in love forever. Isn’t that LOVELY, Roy?”

Jamie had pulled you both close to him, and thus each other as he continued to spit fact after fact about the romantic connotations of the bridge. Roy looked murderous, annoyed at Jamie’s incessant chatter. Roy had originally planned to take you to the bridge later that night to share that very same fact. He was a romantic at heart, and you were one of the very few people to know that about the mysterious Roy Kent. He was also a man with a VERY short fuse.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he growled, and the striker stepped forward from between the two of you and turned around, running in place while he faced you.

“I think it’s lovely, Jamie,” you said, trying to defuse any tension and placate the young man. Jamie beamed at you.

“I thought you would. I bet even someone as tough and grumpy as Roy believes in true love, don’t you Coach?” Jamie began his jumping jacks while looking at Roy, who only grunted in response. The Mancunian then pulled out his phone and handed it to Roy.

“Come on Coach, take a few pictures of the two of us and I’ll take a few of you two as well!” He said enthusiastically as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him towards the bridge. After a few photos with you, Jamie suggested he take a few photos of you alone on the bridge. You agreed, posing and laughing, causing both men to smile as they watched you. Roy even let out a laugh as you posed dramatically on the railing of the bridge. As you continued to look out onto the water, Jamie nudged Roy.

“Look at her, mate. She’s fucking stunning. Do you think she’s seeing anyone? I mean, any man would be a fool not to snatch her up and never let her go. I mean, look at her,” Jamie nodded towards you as you were being approached by another young couple who asked you to take their photo. Roy watched as you smiled politely and took a few pictures of the couple, watching you light up as they loved the pictures and thanked you. Jamie watched Roy’s expression, seeing how the man let down his guard as he looked at you. Jamie nudged him again.

“Go on mate, don’t let someone else come along and steal her away. Don’t let another man have the opportunity to stare at that bum. I mean LOOK at that ass-“ Jamie was cut off from his sweet-turned-idiotic ramble by Roy advancing on him.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Tartt,” but before Roy’s fist could collide with his face, Jamie called your name, catching your attention.

“Would you like some pictures with Coach Kent? I’m sure he’d love to take some with you!”

Jamie watched as Roy glared at him before walking over to you to stand next to you almost begrudgingly.

“What, don’t want to take a picture with me?” You teased him and he gave you a look.

“Don’t start, you know that’s not true.”

“Come on now guys, you’re on a romantic bridge. How about you pretend to, you know, be in love or something. Like a couple. Pose couple-y. Go on.”

You and Roy looked at one another, before you decided to just play along. You stood close to Roy and placed a hand on his chest, stepping closer than you usually would when you weren’t alone together. As if running on autopilot, the second you stood close to him, Roy’s arm snaked around your waist. Jamie whistled and Roy glared even harder than before. You could tell Jamie was starting to get to him.

“Just take the photo please, Jamie.” You pleaded with a small smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that Jamie knew what he was doing but didn’t want to think of that yet, choosing to focus on the smell of Roy’s cologne and the feel of his warmth against you. After a few pictures, Jamie decided to start up on his training again and began skipping forward.

After a few more stops at historic landmarks and a few more ridiculous flirtatious comments and innuendos from Jamie, you paused for a moment of respite by a chip shop. Jamie went in to use the bathroom when you turned to Roy, who was fuming.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. If he talks about windmills ONE more time, I’m going to throw him over the fucking bridge!” You giggled at his anger and tried to soothe him, placing a hand on one of Roy’s arms.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m pretty sure Jamie is either on to us or really wants to play match maker,” you admitted and Roy grunted.

“Yeah I know, he’s a smooth as a bull in a china shop. Phoebe would have been more subtle than him,” You let out a laugh and nodded and Roy continued. “I have half a mind to give in and tell him. But watching him think he’s failing at getting us together truly gives my soul the peace it needs.”

You laughed harder and Jamie finally made his way back with an order of chips in one hand and a tulip in the other. He walked up to you and handed you both.

“Crisp chips and a flower for the lovely lady. Coach maybe you should take notes, this is how you treat a beautiful woman,” Jamie preened and you could see Roy’s resolve begin crumble. Jamie was going to leave Amsterdam with a black eye if he didn’t stop pushing Roy’s buttons. You decided you had enough and made your move.

“I don’t think Roy needs any tips on how to treat a woman, Jamie. He makes sure I’m nice and satisfied at least twice every morning before even heading off to work. Now, if you’re done teasing him: yes we’re together, no, no one knows except for you and we’d like to keep it that way please, and thank you for the chips. Shall we continue?”

You didn’t wait for Jamie or Roy to reply before stepping forward and making your way down the cobblestone street, popping a warm chip into your mouth and twirling the tulip in your hand. Roy’s eyes followed you, full of pride and love, impressed at how you handled the situation. Jamie, however, looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing before finding words.

“You fucking cunts, you’ve been together this entire time?? For how long?? I’ve been trying to get you to admit you like her for HOURS!”

Roy gave a smug, satisfied smile.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but today marks six months. And I had fucking dinner plans tonight but you and your fucking windmills ruined it.”

Jamie was still gaping, staring back and forth between your retreating figure and Roy’s smug face.

“Six fucking months?! Roy Kent, you absolute legend. She’s wonderful, I’m happy for you Coach.”

Roy smiled and for a split second, he could see himself becoming closer friends with the team striker.

“Oi!”

Your voice brought both Jamie and Roy’s attention back to you.

“Are you two coming or not? I was promised windmills and I want to see windmills!”

You smiled at your boys, one hand holding your flower and chips and the other hand on your hip as you waited for them to come to you.

“That’s your girl, mate.” Jamie teased as he looked at the taller man. Roy smirked, a genuine smile before nodding his head.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that, both men caught up with you. You passed the chips to Jamie before hooking your arm with Roy’s, the three of you making your way to wherever the windmill hunt took you.

[peachyloveswriting]

I am sorry... But Knives with a reader who also can play piano! I just imagine them playing together how he used to play with Vash... This idea lives rent free in my head now.

Btw! I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! 💓💓💓💓💓

Ugh! I got a really good idea with this one out of my own hopeless romantic self. This was very self indulgent but I hope that it's to your liking.

Needing Love --- Millions Knives

SUMMARY: You find yourself longing for the touch of another, someone to take your lonely soul and bring you the comfort of being loved. Knives brings you this offer.

Late into the night, you find yourself waking from your bed unrestful, your heart aching. You're not sure why or what caused this ache to start spreading inside your chest but it calls to you. Pulling the blanket from your body you wrap it around your shoulders, tying it back like a cape. They're stark white, Naï seems to favor this color in anything, it suits him.

Swinging your legs over the bed you raise to your feet, the cold floor makes you shudder, it's utterly silent. Everyone would be home by now, asleep, or in Naï's case busy with something else. Hopefully he won't hear you meddling with his piano, that's your goal. You've played since a young age, it's a passion that you cling to dearly in this new life of yours. Naï has a passion for it as well, he plays in your company often, composing beautiful pieces that tug at your emotions. This time you stride towards the bench, blanket swaying behind you like an elegant cape. Splaying it over the back, you settle down and pull up the key cover.

Tonight, a saddening tune pulls at your hands, it raises your fingers to the keys and burns in your chest. Swallowing thickly, you press down the first keys. They bellow out into the spacious room, daring to be heard by those who stay near, crying to be noticed. It's slow starting, your hands almost scared to truly portray the ache in your heart and the longing in your soul. A longing that begs to be held by another, one that cries to feel the arms of another cradling you, to be loved whole. It carries out the keys, fading the room around you from existence as you play. It's nothing but you and your aching music.

Naï hears the first key strike, he falls quiet, waiting to hear the noise again. What follows is clearly from his piano. It's solemn and sad, the keys as the belt into the open air and through the walls. Curious to find his phantom player, he pushes open the door of the lab and makes his way to the piano room. The keys are much louder from here and just across the way he can see his open bedroom door, you must have ventured out not too long ago.

Grabbing the handle he pushes open the door and steps in unheard, he can see you sitting at the piano, the blanket from his bed draped over your shoulders and over the beck of the bench. Your hands are dancing along the keys, moving elegantly and seamlessly. From the songs he learned and the ones he's made, this is clearly not either. It's the first time he's ever heard something as soul wretching as this. Despite such a sad song, a smile creeps onto his face, Naï feels proud knowing he picked a human who could play Piano. He never knew you could until now but it makes his heart sing.

Stepping forward into the room silently, he gently places a hand upon your shoulder, you jump under the sudden touch. The keys abruptly stop before the carry on through Naï's hands. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him play with a fond look in his eyes, you expected him to rip you away, yell at you. Instead he calmly took a seat by your side and carried on where you left off. You watch him, frozen in awe, it was impressive that he could play what you made on the spot by ear. He elbowed you, his eyes gesturing to the piano, like he was asking you to keep playing. Heat fills your cheeks as you cast your gaze back on the piano, placing your hands delicately and begin to play.

Naï plays your former piece on the lower notes while you tie together a higher set of notes that recalls the pain of hopeless romanticism. The melody dances along your skin, seeping its way into your heart before Naï's hands begin crossing yours to press keys. He doesn't disrupt the flow, he simply moves around you and back before getting in the way.

The warmth by your side melts away the aching sadness that had built up in your chest, a faint smile tugs at your lips and the song takes a turn. The warmth begins to play into the keys, your show on likeness for Naï really pushing the idea of hopeless romanticism out the way. Even though you know he'll never hold you the you hope, or do the things you want to do as a couple, you know that he cares.

When the song came to an end you weren't quite sure what to say for yourself but Naï beat you to it. "That was beautiful, I had no idea you could play." His hand finds yours, gently intertwining your fingers. "Why so sad at the start?" His brows knit tightly together with worry and he leans forward to get a better look at your face. This was certainly a side of Naï that you've yet to see.

You lower your haze to his hand in yours. "I was sad and I couldn't sleep." With his other hand, he presses a finger underneath your chin to lift your head. "Why were you sad?"

He never seemed to care before, this was definitely a start. "Can I be honest?" You finally look him in the eyes, he nods. You find yourself at a loss for words, only a moment ago your feelings were splayed out for anyone close by to hear, portrayed perfectly. Now you don't know where to begin.

"I just... Feel like I'm not getting the love that I need. You know. At night I think about the ways I wish I was held, the things I want to hear, and the way I want to be loved and I know that it's just not possible. No one can cater to all your needs, no, but I just want to feel love. I'd feel selfish asking anyone for that but I want it so bad." The ache in your chest begins to rise and you can feel the neglect settling in again, you hate this feeling, the longing for a warmth you've yet to receive.

Naï suddenly stands from the bench and tugs you with him, he towers over you in height, his bright blue eyes captivating you instantly. If angels were real he'll fit the description, from the fair skin to the bright blonde hair. Even down to the way his hand slides against the small of your back, pressing your body flush against his. He's unrealistically warm against you, an extra factor to his nonhuman traits.

His voice is low and soft. "Is this how you wanted to be held?"

Your heart flutters and your face flushes. He's staring at you so intently as he waits for an answer, you're almost unable to open your mouth and form an appropriate response.

"Yes. It is." The corners of his lips twitch up into an endearing smile. "Good. I intend to show you that as a plant, romantically, I can do so much more for you than any human." His words are genuine, as he takes your hand in his again, leading you from the piano room and back to his room. "Allow me to fulfill what you've been craving, you'll find that I satisfy your every need my flower."

[verspia]

could you do arda and rodrygo’s younger sister? with like lots of fluff and sweet stuff, sorry if this is super broad 😓

INTO YOU • ARDA GÜLER

( pairing ) arda güler x reader

this was so fun to write i hope u guys like it!

The stadium is still buzzing with excitement, the roar of the crowd echoing in your ears as you weave through the sea of fans. Tonight’s match had been exhilarating—one of those nail-biting games that leaves everyone on the edge of their seats. Real Madrid won, of course, with Rodrygo playing a crucial role in the success of tonight’s match.

You’re so incredibly proud of your brother, seeing him flourish in the sport that he’s dreamed of ever since he was a child. Football runs in his veins in a way you’ll never understand, but you can’t help but reminisce your childhood when he would bounce around with a ball and force you to play with him, teaching you little tricks and while you were never anywhere as close to the level that he is, you enjoyed the moments that you and your brother had, especially now that with his career taking off, they’ve become rare.

You’ve not been to many of his games, but there’s always something special about seeing your brother perform with that kind of magic on the pitch.

You’re here to congratulate him, to give him a hug and tell him how proud you are. It’s something you’ve done ever since he was a little boy playing in youth leagues back in Brazil, back when you’d both race to the car after every match, breathless and laughing, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Back when both of you weren’t too busy with your own jobs taking up all your time, when childhood innocence still lingered about. Those were the days when he was just a kid with a dream—before he became the star he is today.

As you squeeze through the crowd of excited fans crowding the exits, you make your way toward the players. Your heart thrums in your chest, the jubilation of the rest of the stadium is so pragmatic, that you yourself feel euphoric, your face flushed as if you’re the one who’s just run around the field for ninety minutes.

There’s a feeling of anticipation that’s bubbling under your skin, and you can feel yourself vibrating under the excitement of it all, and perhaps you’re so distracted by the air of triumph that envelops the whole stadium that you’re blind to the presence of someone else, accidentally knocking into someone and almost stumbling face first into the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” a voice says quickly, concerned.

You turn to see a young man standing there, his hair damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed from exertion. You recognize him immediately—Arda Güler, your brother’s teammate, and one of the club's rising stars. You’ve seen him play countless times, but you’ve never actually met him face-to-face.

“It’s okay,” you say, smiling a little. “I was in the way.”

Arda looks flustered a little, his already red cheeks flaming further and his mouth drops open a little, an exhale escaping his mouth, as if someone has punched him in the stomach, only his eyes seem far too delighted for that, wide with glee and something more that you can’t understand. It confuses you, why he seems to look as if he’s seen heaven on earth, but then you realise that perhaps the victory of today is only just dawning on him, maybe he’s the type to grapple with disbelief a little before truly feeling the ebullience of the night.

“You’re Rodrygo’s sister, right?” he asks suddenly, a slight smile forming on his lips. “Y/N?”

You nod, surprised that he knows your name. You’re never around enough to have been formally introduced to any of your brother’s teammates, and you doubt he’s the type to blabber on about you to any of them, but perhaps you’re wrong.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Your voice comes out a little breathlessly, “and you must be Arda, congratulations on tonight!”

He grins, his eyes lighting up. “Thanks. Yeah that’s me?” He scratches the back of his neck, and you seem a little thrown off again, maybe he’s still struggling with the language barriers, so you brush off his words.

He looks around, as if searching for someone, then back at you. “Waiting for Rodrygo?”

You nod again, glancing toward the door where players are still coming out. “Yeah, I came to congratulate him on the win, i can’t find him anywhere,” You gesture around, “have you seen him?”

Arda chuckles. “He’s probably around somewhere with the rest of the team, dancing with Vini maybe?”

You laugh at that, knowing exactly what he means. “That sounds just like him.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and you notice that Arda seems a bit unsure, like he’s debating whether to say something more. He finally speaks, his voice softer. “You don’t come to a lot of our matches, right? I don’t see you with the rest of Rodrygo’s family”

“Yeah,” you reply, feeling a little flustered under his gaze. “I try to come whenever I can though, I love watching you guys play. You have such a good team.”

He looks genuinely pleased at your words, and his smile grows. “Thanks. It’s always nice to see you around”

His words make you pause, maybe you misheard him, nonetheless you find your cheeks growing hot. Before you can respond, Rodrygo finally emerges from the locker room, his face breaking into a wide grin when he sees you. “Y/N!” he calls out, jogging over and pulling you into a quick, sweaty hug. “Did you see that goal? Pretty good, right?”

You laugh, pushing him back playfully. “Amazing, as always. But you’re going to stink up my clothes if you keep hugging me like this.”

He grins, then notices Arda standing beside you, watching the exchange with an amused smile. “Oh, hey, Arda! Didn’t expect to see you out here. Thanks for helping set up that goal tonight, by the way.”

Arda nods. “No problem, man. Great finish.”

You’re still standing there, feeling a little out of place but also strangely comfortable. There’s something about Arda that’s easy and natural, like you’ve known him longer than just the few minutes you’ve been talking.

Rodrygo, always the social one, looks between you and Arda, raising an eyebrow. “You two met already?”

You smile. “Sort of. We bumped into each other.”

Rodrygo laughs, clapping Arda on the back. “Well, Arda’s a good guy, Y/N. One of the best. If I had to trust someone to look after you around here, he’d be the guy.”

Arda blushes a little at that, and you feel your cheeks grow warm too, again, but you quickly cover it with a smile. “I’m sure he is.” Something about both of their behaviours is a little odd, like they’re in on a secret that you’re not aware of.

There’s another pause, and for a moment, you think about saying goodbye, but Arda speaks up first. “Hey, if you’re not rushing off, would you like to grab a coffee or something? There’s a great café just around the corner. I mean… if Rodrygo doesn’t mind,” he adds quickly, shooting your brother a glance.

Rodrygo looks between the two of you, a grin spreading on his face. His eyes glint mischievously at you and the look he and Arda share makes you feel that they’ve talked about you before. “Oh, I don’t mind at all. Go ahead, have fun. I’m going to catch up with a few guys from the team.”

You feel a flutter in your stomach—unexpected but not unwelcome. “Sure,” you reply, looking at Arda with a smile. “Coffee sounds nice.”

He smiles back, his eyes bright, and offers his arm. “Great. Let’s go.”

As you walk toward the café, the stadium lights gradually fading behind you, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest. The streets are alive with people celebrating the win, and you can’t help but feel that you’re part of something special tonight.

Arda seems a little more relaxed now, a bit more confident as he leads the way. “So, do you live here in Madrid, or are you just visiting?” he asks, genuinely interested.

“I’m just visiting,” you reply. “I come whenever I can to see Rodrygo. I live in Lisbon right now, but I travel a lot for work.”

“What do you do?” he asks, holding the café door open for you.

“I’m an art curator,” you say, smiling as you step inside. “I organize exhibitions, work with galleries… that sort of thing.”

He looks impressed. “That’s really cool. So you must love creativity—just in a different field than Rodrygo and me.”

You chuckle a little. “Exactly. I think maybe that’s why I enjoy watching you guys play so much.” Your eyes gleam a little as you subconsciously lean closer to him, “There’s an artistry to it, a rhythm and creativity that’s kind of like painting or, kind of like- you know curating an exhibition?”

His eyes light up at your words, and he too, leans closer, as it to hear you better, even though you aren’t whispering. “I’ve never thought about it that way, but it makes sense. I guess we’re all trying to create something beautiful, in our own way.”

You both order your coffees, and as you sit down by the window, you find that the conversation flows effortlessly. He tells you about his journey from Turkey, the challenges of adapting to another language, atmosphere and culture entirely, the excitement of playing at such a high level, his dreams for the future. He even voices out his disappointment that playing in a club like real madrid with so many great players, while it has helped him, often creates doubt in himself. Especially when he’s not the one that’s brought out on the field. Your heart cracks a little at his words, and you can’t help but empathize with him, the fact that there are people who give up so much of their life, childhood and leave behind their families for this sport, it’s a double edged sword. Nonetheless, Arda makes his appreciation transparent at your obvious concern.

You find yourself captivated by his stories, by the passion in his voice and the way his eyes light up when he talks about the game.

And you talk about your work, your love for art, the joy of discovering new talent and bringing it to the world. He listens attentively, asking questions that make you feel like he really cares, like he genuinely wants to know you.

By the time you finish your coffee, it feels like hours have passed, yet it’s only been a short while. You realize you don’t want the evening to end, and judging by the way he keeps looking at you, neither does he.

As you leave the café, walking back toward the stadium, Arda turns to you with a hopeful smile. “This was… really nice. I’m glad we ran into each other.”

You smile back, your heart fluttering in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. “Me too, Arda.”

And as you say goodbye, you know that this is just the beginning of something unexpected, something wonderful—something you never saw coming but are more than ready to explore.

fin.

[enhadiares]

“GAME OVER”

Chapter 2 | The beginning

👾A/N: I finally posted another chapter. I am just super busy these days so it's hard to post but hopefully I'll be more active . Hope you guys enjoy it!

👾Pairing: enhypen x fem!reader

👾Warning: This is all fictional!

👾Synopsis: Bound within the confines of a virtual realm, a group of friends must decipher its mysteries to secure their freedom. Amidst the labyrinth of challenges, they encounter a formidable adversary - a lurking shadow who controls their fate. As alliances fracture and betrayals unfold, they must confront not only the puzzles of the game but also the sinister presence that seeks to keep them imprisoned. Only by overcoming both external threats and internal conflicts can they hope to break free from the shadows within the game

Previously on the latest episode of "Game Over,"

"Why the crankiness, woman? I called because we're considering checking out the new arcade that recently opened" Jungwon, the young man, explains.

"A new arcade? Count me in!" you reply eagerly, rising from your seat with excitement finally brewing. You've always adored arcades and never shy away from expressing it.

"All the players are assembled," they declare with a hint of mischief.

Let the game begin.

Currently as the scene unfolds, you find yourselves amidst the excitement of a group outing. You eagerly rushed towards the waiting car, exclaiming, "Let's go, come on guys!" Your enthusiasm is met with a chuckle from Jungwon, who remarks on your boundless excitement. “Could one be anymore excited?”

As Banter ensues , you playfully assert your right to excitement, claiming, "Hey, I'm just a girl, let me be," accompanied by a mock pout.

Meanwhile, a lighthearted debate erupted among the younger members of your friend circle over seating arrangements, with you swiftly intervening to claim the coveted passenger seat. With a regal air, you declare something - "I am the passenger princess , Move peasants!" playfully nudging your friends aside.

Amidst the jovial atmosphere, Jay, the designated driver, warmly welcomes you all aboard.

The dynamic within your friend group is highlighted as the younger members assert their dominance over the front seats, leaving the older members relegated to the back. Born to be the passenger princess forced to sit in the back - as they quote to which you laughed heartedly.

Despite the playful banter, there's an underlying sense of belonging within the group, evident in your sentiment of finding security and warmth in their company and so they feel like a family to you.

As the journey progresses, anticipation builds as you approach your destination, -the arcade. It felt like an eternity with all the excitement even tho it was just a mere 10 minute drive.

Upon arrival, You are captivated by the futuristic ambiance, marveling at the technological architecture surrounding you. Your mouth is wide open while your jaw in on the floor while you admire the interior of the arcade.

It made you wonder just how intellectually capable some people are to even come up with all this without Google , how is that possible?

Amidst everyone's musings, Niki's exuberant declaration interrupts, expressing his desire to live in the arcade.

“This feels so unreal , I want to stay here for my whole life”

Continuing with a joke of trading his mates for a stay in the arcade which resulted in him getting couple of side eyes.

United in your excitement, you and the group embark on a gaming spree, immersing yourselves in various arcade activities.

From air hockey to basketball hoop games, each member finds their niche amidst the sea of entertainment. However, your attention is soon drawn to a new attraction pointed by the youngest.

Niki calls out for everyone who then rush towards him.

You were on the verge of winning a plushie by the rigged claw machine when the impatient Niki decided to shake you from your shoulders to show his excitement and anticipation for what he was about to show . It panicked you because you almost lost to the claw machine so you glare at him and exclaim with a sarcastic grin

“You're lucky I didn't drop it , or else you would be another toy in the claw machine”

After that you turn back and go to the surrounded spot where everyone else is present followed by Niki.

Upon your arrival you notice a game titled "Deal or No Deal," which was unlike any other arcade game , might be exclusive to this specific arcade.

“I haven't seen any game like this ever in any arcade” you exclaimed astonished.

“Lets play this game together then and let's find out !” stated Niki

“Yeah we have nothing to loose , let's check it out!” it was an excited jake

“It says Press start!” Jungwon saw the text flah in the screen .

“Wait guy's we can't start the game without entering a coin but our coins don't go in.” Jay who was looking at how to start the game explained what he observed.

3rd Person POV

Intrigued by the novelty of the game, the friend group sets out to uncover its mysteries, only to be met with a challenge – the game requires a specific coin to operate.

“I'll go ask the guy at the counter , Jungwon come with me.” Undeterred, Heeseung and Jungwon take it upon themselves to seek assistance from the arcade staff, setting off on a quest for information.

Upon reaching the counter , both the guys were met with a man with the arcade merch. His tshirt , pant cap and the mask everything promoting the arcade . He looked like a staff member so they gave eachother knowing looks and decided to ask him about the new game.

“Hey we were playing in here when we found the game - “Deal or No deal” and we haven't seen it anywhere else so we don't know how to work it out , can you assist us?” The elder guy said.

The man who was presumably the staff looked at them with dark and mischievous glint in his eyes for a split second before switching to a more sweeter and polite one.

“Oh yes! It's a new addition to all the arcade games and can only be found in our arcade! It works with a specific coin and the rest would be explained in the game itself. Here's the coin - it's free since you are the first people playing it.” The staff explained and handed them the coin .

Their encounter with the staff unveils a mix of intrigue and anticipation, as they are handed the elusive coin, unaware of the costs that lie ahead.

Returning to their eager friends, they share the newfound knowledge, paving the way for an exciting adventure into the unknown realms of the arcade.

And so without any hesitation Niki pressed the red button glaring at him as if taunting him to start the game if he is daring enough .

[thatsnotmygunflash]

Okay @simpledontmeanpeachy this is like a week late but I finally got the inspiration I needed to write prompt 25 "It gave me great joy,"

I really fell in love with this and might add to it honestly (or someone else can if they want) it's set in a world where Barry grew up in the foster system and turned out way differently.

Len was nursing his first drink of the night at Saints and Sinners an hour before his crew was suppose to meet up for their weekly check-in when Hartley came waltzing in the front door. Len didn't bother to turn and look, taking a smooth sip of his beer as the young scientist came up to the empty bar.

"Rathaway, little early, even by your standards." Len said in observation. Hartley Rathaway wasn't the newest addition to his Rouges or even the youngest, but he was by far the smartest and most capable out of the lot. They had worked three big jobs together in the past year and a half and besides his sister, he was the only one Len felt gave it to him straight and pulled his weight enough for it to mean anything to Len. He wouldn't call them friends, but they were friendly. Not friendly enough, however, for Hartley to show up without an agenda.

"I wanted a chance to speak privately before the rest of the crew show up,"

"About?" Len assumed it would be business Hartley wanted to discuss but this must be something he didn't want the rest of the crew to know about yet.

"You heard about the new player in town, right?"

How could he not, when it was all anyone in the city wanted to talk about lately.

"The Chemist?" At Hartley's nod of confirmation Len tilted his chin down in understanding. "I've heard whispers, why?"

"He approached me last night, said he needed a little tech support, willing to pay more than well for my time too."

"Did you take the job?" Len had never cared about Hartley's freelance work before, unless it directly effected Len's own timetable, but they had never had issues with scheduling before. Len made sure of it.

"You're not asking the important questions, Snart."

"If you have something to say, Rathaway, say it." Len didn't enjoy the condescending smirk painted on Hartley's face and he definitely didn't like a single word that came next.

"He's planning on hitting the Federal Reserve, the same one you're planning on hitting in two months. Which wouldn't be a problem for you, if he wasn't planning on making his move next week."

"Next week." Next week. Next. Week. There was no way. The Chemist had just hit First National two weeks ago. He couldn't be that reckless, especially when the cops and the papers had painted him to be some kind of evil-mastermind. Len had been casing the Reserve himself everyday for four months, there was no way he would have missed another thief doing the same.

"Yep. He doesn't even have a crew either. Plans to do it all by himself. Seems like kind of a loner. Pretty though. And smart. Meta too, I think. Full package really."

"You think he can pull it off." Len didn't need the snort of agreement Hartley let out to let him know he was right. Hartley was not an easily impressed man, which meant this Chemist was someone to be on guard with.

"Oh, definitely. Especially with my help covering his tracks, but, because I knew he'd end up iced for fucking with your job, I convinced him to come here tonight to talk to you about joining the Rouges."

Hartley had told a man who enjoyed explosives where his entire crew was meeting tonight. The nerve of this kid.

"And you just expected me to be okay with that?"

"Well, obviously." Hartley scoffed, waving a dismissive hand in the air when he saw Len's icy glare. "I thought you'd agree it couldn't hurt to have other smart and pretty people around to look at. You should have seen his face when I told him I worked for you. It gave me great joy. Watching him go from obnoxiously cocky to painfully desperate just at the sound of your name. I think you have a fan."

A fan. A fan. The Chemist was a fan. Good lord.

"You better pray this works out in our favor, Rathaway, or it's your ass."

"I'm not worried." Hartley shrugged carelessly, his smirk turning into something like delight when the door opened behind them.

"And why's that?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Hartley replied, pointing a finger behind Len's shoulder.

"Wha-" Len turned to see who the new comer was, losing his voice and the ability to move when he caught sight of an unmistakably familiar face. Len couldn't believe what he was seeing. Barry Allen, the flirty barista from the coffee shop Len had been using as cover for his stakeouts of the Reserve was standing just three feet in front of him. The same Barry Allen that he had taken home with him five nights ago. The same Barry Allen that had not taken Len's one night stand policy well.

Barry gave a lazy wave, not bothering to hide the challenge in his eyes or the smugness coating his voice.

"Hey Lenny. Miss me?"

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Wear You Down

Terushima x gn!reader

“How did you two even get together?” Daichi had always been curious. You were his cousin for crying out loud! And he remembered how your boyfriend behaved back in high school. “I still can’t believe we’ve known him as long as we have.”

You just gave him a smile, your eyes drifting to see the man you now called the love of your life fixing up Asahi’s hair for his up coming fashion show, “What can I say?” You offered with a shrug, “He wore me down.”

“Babe!” Your boyfriend called, digging through another cabinet as Asahi sat rigged in a chair to avoid accidentally tousling his long hair from position, “Do you remember where I put those fancy pins we got for this? I thought they’d be with the rest of my stuff.”

You laughed, getting them from atop the fridge, “You stuck them up here so you wouldn’t lose them, love.”

“Ah!” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, taking them and hurrying back, “You’re a life saver. No one can read my mind like you can.”

“Hey!” You were seven years old, running up to a boy you’d never seen before on the playground. School was only a week away. “I bet I can guess your favorite color.”

“No way,” he laughed, staring up at you from the swing, “That’s impossible!”

Wiggling your fingers in front of your face, you spoke excitedly, “I can feel it oozing from you! It’s the same as mine, I just know it.”

“Humor me then,” he smirked, as well as a little boy could at least, “What is our favorite color?”

“It’s dark green, right? Right!?”

He had never seen someone as happy as you were in that moment. Grinning at him with a missing front tooth, hair haloed by the sun behind you. Admittedly, he had been in a fire truck phase, red was his favorite. But as he looked at you with wonder in his eyes, opening his mouth led to an innocent lie, “You’re right. Dark green is my favorite.”

“I knew it!” You thrusted a fist into the air, “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N L/N.”

“Terushima.” He offered, “You’re so pretty. Can I be your boyfriend?”

You laughed, so full and bright, “We’re too young for that!”

“Maybe in the future then.” He shrugged, about to ask you to swing with him when someone called your name.

“Come on, Y/N! Auntie says we gotta get home for dinner!” Another little boy with black hair, your cousin Daichi, waving his hands to get your attention.

“Coming, Dai! I hope to see you again, Terushima.” You were running away before he could reply.

He ended being in your class until you moved to attend Karasuno with Daichi.

When Daichi and Asahi finally left, Yuuji wrapped his arms around you from behind, “It’s good to see you smiling with them. I gotta say, back when we started dating I was afraid Daichi would hold it against you.”

“Why’s that, love?” You looked back at him, leaning your head against his shoulder, “Daichi is my cousin, he just wants me happy.”

Yuuji grimaced, “I know, but I can see why he had reservations before.”

Taking his hand, you spun out of his embrace, “Remember when we ran into each other at the tournament?”

He pouted, “That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

Kiyoko had run back, someone forgot something- you hadn’t been paying attention, too busy getting the players into their seats and realizing one was missing. Ukai and Daichi asked you to check on her, see what was holding them up. Finding Hinata try to ‘rescue’ Kiyoko from a rival team wasn’t what you expected and you weren’t exactly an extrovert, not as much as you had been when you were younger, but you walked over anyway. The one with the poor blonde dye job dumped Hinata out of the way and you felt the vein in your forehead twitch at his disregard for the boy- only to laugh when the leader of the rival boys recoiled as the orange haired boy jumped in front of him. “Kiyoko is our precious manager!”

“We were just talking,” dye job tried to reason, and you decided it was time to step in.

“Hinata, Kiyoko, the bus is waiting for you two. Daichi is about to unleash Tanaka and Noya.” Kiyoko giggled, knowing the captain and coach would rather tie them to a leash and make Tsukishima or Kageyama find her, “And you, dye job, don’t touch my players.”

“Does that mean I can touch you?” He smirked, and you pulled back in disgust.

“Wow, that’s how you talk to girls these days, Yuuji? Damn.”

He blinked, eyes suddenly lighting up as they soaked in your features, “Y/N!” He pulled you into a hug before Hinata could stop him, “Don’t hate on my game, babe! You’re just jealous you don’t get to see it in action much.”

“Oh, yeah. So jealous. How many people have you actually won over like this, you hound dog?” Rolling your eyes, you shoved him back, already ushering your club members toward the bus.

“Just waiting for you to finally fall into my arms.” He winked, and you gave him a fake gag.

“Gross. Nice try though, three out of ten for the effort. Bye, Terushima!”

The entire bus ride was spent with a lecture from your cousin after Hinata told everyone about the interaction.

Cooking dinner led to a mess- much like it did every night- because Yuuji was always trying to come up with new games to play as you cooked or cleaned. He was equal parts focused and unfocused when it came to any task. It was how he pursued most aspects of his life- talking to clients while working on their hair, wrestling with his old volleyball buddies and simultaneously never missing a beat when you talk to him, juggling chores he’s trying to finish and still catching every second of his favorite tv show. It led to chaos sometimes, like when he spent every interaction you had in high school trying to win your attention and could still be distracted by a pretty face- or at least pretend to be. Your friendship never suffered over the years, but it slowed down the progress you could’ve made with each other along the way.

Because you could look at him now- hair stylist that was doing something he loved, doing favors for your friends like he did today- and sometimes you could see the flirty playboy he used to be.

He still hit on you every day, no matter how big or small the pick up was, but now you never paid attention to whether his eyes could stray. Because they never did, not honestly in the past, and definitely not now. Daichi had concerns for the longest time, before he actually got to see Terushima around you. You were an introvert by nature, long grown out of your outgoing childhood phase, but your boyfriend had always been outgoing no matter the circumstance. Your cousin had worried that he had talked you into it- and he had. But he didn’t manipulate you into it. From that day on the playground he had been your best friend. Sure, he talked you into things that you wouldn’t do, but he also hyped you up about things you wanted. He was the reason you pursued your degree, the reason you worked in a field mostly dominated by men that looked down on you. Terushima always had your back, and it was that long standing trust that eventually let him wear you down for a date.

And your stance on that, as you always reassured him when he questioned your differences, was that letting him wear you down was the best decision you could’ve made.

Masterlist

[callistoandbeans]

Corpse Groom A welcome home AU

Corpse Groom A welcome home AU Au by @sketchquill, a story written by Tim Burton, characters created by Partycoffion, rewritten by Callisto Author note: I make no claim to this au or the characters (besides the side ones I have made to fill in the background ). I grew up watching this movie, whenever it was my turn I would pop it in the DVD player and fall in love with the music that filled my ears. So why not put a spin on it and bring this au to life, plus it will give me practice in writing. Lord knows I need it XD. this will just be a little opening to it so you can get a taste for it- kinda like dipping your toes into the water to see if you like it. a prologue

I should be about to post chapter two today and it def be way longer xd I’ll be posting it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48532249/chapters/122419276    So I bring you                                                     The Corpse Groom The air was still this morning, the sun's glorious rays tightly snugged away within blankets of gray clouds, giving the land below an eerie gray overcoat. For a land filled with life and plenty it held a great depression among many. Times these days were tough, pockets that were once deep and bountiful now held only enough for a drink and a chunk of stale bread to fend off starvation for another day. Puppets were desperate for any chance to survive, some even turning to crime, others turning to stretch out their businesses in hopes that they could strike up deals with other towns to keep the flow of coin coming. The Fishsion family were one of these business but no many how far they had reached nor begged they just couldn’t sink their hooks into another's wallet. It was surprising just how many did not want fish part of their brands! Oh, Mrs. Fishsion thought that their spin on fishnet stockings would really make it in the fashion industry. She could only guess young ladies didn’t find it appealing to wear nets on their legs with fish and hooks attached to them. How was she supposed to know that some of the fish were still alive when the model tried them on? The girl let out the most horrified scream when a trout began flapping about against her leg. It took nearly twenty minutes to calm her down enough, let alone to get her to stop running around the room, to remove the gosh darn thing. After that, they were tossed out on their bottoms along with the fish nets and other fashionable fish designs. The future was looking ever so bad as their money was slowly draining away. They could not afford to go much longer without a way out of this! That's when their attention was brought to their son, y/n. Of course, how could they have not thought about this before! Their son was a fine man and any woman or lad would be lucky to have him as a husband! Yes. yes, that’s it, they could marry him into money. They would be set for life! Didn’t the Ludiggains have an unwedded daughter? That family was more loaded with gold and gems then than they had ever been! The family hadn’t shown any sign of struggle during the depression meaning they must be doing just fine. Yes, this was perfect, all they had to do was convince them to set up an arranged marriage between their children.

[devilwearingdior]

Chapter One ~Bad Decisions~

18+!

This fic contains: Violence, Alcohol, Nicotine, Cursing, SA.

(And possibly smut in the future chapters.)

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains struggles and problems that might hit close to home… Don’t worry it won’t be all gloom and darkness though 😉

August 19th Sunday, 1973.

I sigh and breath in the Texan air. I had been bored out of my mind, and my roommate was busy, so out of an impulse, I’d decided to go for a drink or two close to the college campus pub. I was gathering my courage to enter. Don’t be a wuss Olivia, i tell myself as i watch people enter the pub happily. There were a bunch of people outside smoking cigarettes and chatting away with each other, and here I was all alone.

After a while, I decided to just enter. I’m met with a sound of music coming from the speakers— A rock song playing I don’t recognise. I head to the bar counter, and a friendly-looking bartender greets me.

“What would you like, young lady?” The bartender asked me, smiling. She had blonde hair that was tied up in a bun.

“A draft beer, thanks," I reply politely, smiling. She asks for my ID and nods satisfied, pouring me a glass of beer and then handing it over. I moved to a secluded corner.

I was content with just people watching for tonight; anything was better than just sitting in my dorm room and dying out of boredom.

I sit down on the bar chair and sip on my beer; it had a pleasant, mild taste for a beer. The pub had people of all ages in it; most were men watching a football game that was playing on TV. The steady sound of the TV and music was broken when a group of guys entered the pub; judging by their varsity jackets, they were college football players. I recognised the logo on their jackets as the same that my college had. It was a bull with devil horns, and their jackets were red and white. They get seats close to my table, and I can’t help but overhear them talk.

“Someone should burn that shithole down already; there's nothing good about it except housing those freaks." One of the boys exclaimed, and his friends agreed with him.

“If we are lucky, someone does it, and that creepy family will be inside it once it happens." Another one, a blonde guy with light blue eyes, now speaks up.

“I wonder why they stay so isolated; I don’t think they ever leave that property of theirs.” The blonde guy continues, a clear disdain in his voice.

“I saw one of them a few days ago by the gas station, a freaky girl; she was humming some weird ass song." A black-haired boy responds, and I notice him shuddering as he recalls the memory.

I didn’t even realise how intently I was listening to their conversation as I jumped back a bit, startled, as the blonde guy called out to me; I hadn’t even noticed that he had been looking at me.

“Hey, you’re pretty cute. What are you doing here by yourself?” Now all of the guys are looking at me, some of them raising their eyebrows as they wait for me to respond to the blonde guy.

“Uh, I was just waiting for a friend,” I reply lying, cringing to myself; no way was I admitting that I was all alone in this pub all night to these guys.

"You don't have a boyfriend, do you?” The blonde boy speaks up again. “Come on, what’s your name? We can get to know each other. My name’s Kyle,” he continues.

“My name is Olivia, and, uh, no, I don't." I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to admit to these guys that I was single, but it was too late now anyway. Kyle grins when he hears my reply and pulls a chair from a table next to theirs, motioning for me to sit next to him. Without much thought, I joined the group of guys; the beer was making me braver. I sit down, and the other guys introduce themselves as Nate; he was blonde too, but he looked a bit older than Kyle. Next to Nate was the black-haired boy, who introduced himself as Josh. Next to Josh was a brown-haired boy named Alex, and the last boy introduced himself as Matt. He was light brown-haired and looked like he was a bit younger than the rest of the group.

"Olivia, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kyle says, leaning a bit into me as he drinks his beer. He had a constant cocky smirk on his face, and as I looked around at the group of boys, I noticed that none of them looked particularly friendly; I was second-guessing my choice of joining them.

“Nice to meet you too; do you guys by any chance go to the Newt University close by?” I ask as I take a huge gulp of the beer, and the boys nod as a yes. Some of them were flashing their varsity jackets and grinning, telling me that they play on the school football team.

“You go there too? I haven’t seen you there before; you must be new. There’s no way I would have missed a face like yours." Kyle says with a flirty tone and some of his friends have a dumb-looking smirk plastered on their faces.

“Ah yeah, I just transferred here; I’m going to start my third year tomorrow, actually,” I reply. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my thigh. I look down and notice that it’s Kyle’s. I shift uncomfortably away from his hand. He looks at me and smirks but doesn’t say anything.

“Nice, it will be good to see you around,” Nate says with a chuckle, and the rest of the jocks nod their heads in agreement. I’m about to take a sip of my beer when I feel Kyle move his arm around my shoulder, and he speaks up.

“When is your friend showing up? They better hurry if they don’t want us to take you with us for drinks to the dorm."His friends chuckle at his comment, and I feel a shiver go through my body. Before I can reply, Kyle continues.

“So when can I take you out for a date? You didn’t have a boyfriend, right? No better way to get to know a new school and town,” he says with an overly sweet voice. I push his arm away from my shoulder and stand up.

“I have to think about that offer; now I gotta excuse myself; nature calls,” I say, and I don’t wait for their response as I head over to the girls bathroom.

“We’ll be here; don’t keep us waiting for too long!” Nate yells after me. I enter the bathroom and go to the sink, leaning my hands on it, and take a couple of deep breaths. I was in a public place. I was safe; if things got too uncomfortable, I could always come up with an escape plan. I stood there for a while, collecting myself and fixing my makeup. I was starting to feel a bit tipsy. After a while, I decide that I should get out and not hide in the bathrooms. I walk out and notice that the group of boys have moved to the pool table and are playing. I try to walk past them, hoping that they won’t notice me, but it’s all in vain. The brown-haired boy named Alex nudges Kyle. “There’s your new girlfriend! She took her sweet time.” He comments playfully, making Kyle look up at me. He smirks and once again motions for me to join them, but I wave him off. “I need to go and buy a drink!” I make up an excuse, but he walks after me to the counter.

“You don’t need to get it alone; I’ll pay. I just want to spend some time with you,” he says to me while leaning closer, our arms now touching as both of us lean against the bar counter.

“And then later you need to dance with me,” he adds with a wink.

“I can buy my own drink, thanks," I reply, but keep my voice light, trying not to sound rude.

“Oh c’mon! I’m not letting you do that; I don’t know why girls always insist on buying their own drinks. You’ll make me feel bad." He says with a fake pout, I roll my eyes lightly mustering up a smile.

“Fine. You can buy me a drink if you insist." I give in. Kyle smiles in victory and orders both himself and me drinks, then leads me, with his arm around me, back to his friends by the pool table. The rest of the night goes by with me mostly listening to Kyle and his friends joke around while playing; their jokes become more obnoxious and offensive. I try to tolerate it, as I get the increasing feeling that Kyle wouldn’t take well to rejection. After a while, Kyle turns to me, visibly more intoxicated.

“So, about that dance you promised me,” he says, and before I can respond, he’s pulled me closer to the speaker and is now holding me in his arms, moving me to the rhythm. It’s a slower song, and he spins me around, trying to make it seem romantic, but I feel like a trapped animal in his arms. As the song goes on, I feel his hand moving slowly towards my butt, and I pull his hand back up quickly. He lets out a low chuckle.

"Oh, don’t be like that, Olivia; let’s have some fun tonight,” he says, and he starts lowering his hand again, this time with more force.

“Stop it!” I say as I try to push him away, with no use as he is clearly stronger.

“Don’t be so uptight, Olivia; I'm just trying to get to know you,” he responds, sounding amused. He now unashamedly moves both hands onto my butt, and I try to push him away again.

“Kyle, seriously, stop it!” I am starting to panic a bit.

“Don’t be such a mood killer; I’m not harming you." He whispers into my ear. Before I can respond or do anything else, I feel a pair of even stronger arms pulling me away from Kyle, and a tall man steps in between us. I can’t see his face as he has his back turned to me as he speaks to Kyle.

“You jocks are just little shits, aren’t you? I believe this lady said to stop it.” The guy exclaims, and I see a flash of annoyance on Kyle's face as he scoffs.

“She’s just playing hard to get; she was into it. She didn’t really want me to stop it.” Kyle retorts angrily, and then a wave of recognition goes through his face as he looks at the guy and laughs.

“Oh shit! You’re one of the freaks; you’re Johnny Sawyer, aren’t you?" This comment gets the attention of Kyle's friend group, and they all move to his side.

“So you freaks do come out of your shithole! Who would have known?” Kyle continues, his friends laughing. I noticed the guy named Johnny tense up, and it was like I could feel an aura coming from him, one that seemed to shout: Do not mess with me. He was outnumbered greatly, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he moved closer to Kyle as if he were about to punch him. Kyle didn’t move, and now that they were face-to-face, the tension was thick in the air.

“What are you going to do, Sawyer? You want to fight?” Kyle snarls, his friends clearly ready to back him up. Johnny doesn’t say anything, but I could see his fists curl up, and he seemed like all his muscles were tensed up. I look around and notice that now everyone else in the pub is watching the situation unfold, and my slightly tipsy mind decides that now is the moment to dip out.

Kyle nor his friends pay any attention to me as I leave the pub, the cool air hitting my face. I couldn’t afford to get into trouble already; I hadn’t even started school yet! I look back once and hope that the guy named Johnny will be smart enough to back off; he couldn’t possibly fight all those guys alone. I was secretly grateful to him that he’d come up and interrupted Kyle's attempts, and a part of me felt guilty for leaving him there to defend himself because of that. I walked quickly along the pathway; the tall trees swaying lightly with the cool wind What the hell happened there?? I thought to myself as I could see the campus grounds getting closer to my relief.

As I enter the campus grounds I feel my feet start to move faster towards my dormitory building as if on their own accord, opening the heavy door I feel the welcoming warmth of the dormitory hallway and sigh in relief. 302, my room. My roommate Amber hadn’t come back yet judging based on her neatly made bed, I get inside and turn on the lights, there was still plenty of boxes around my bed since I hadn’t gotten around to unpack. I grab my t shirt and shorts and change into them; after that I head into the bathroom to remove my makeup and brush my teeth. I get back to my room and sit on the bed. This wasn’t a promising start for my school year at all; what had I gotten myself into?

I checked the time; it’s already 12 a.m. I should get to bed and at least try to sleep… I felt restless as the nights events kept replaying in my head, but as soon as I lay my head on my pillow i feel myself drifting off to sleep, lulling me into safety and security. Little did I know this was only the beginning for everything…

Authors notes: Stay patient; I promise the familiar characters will make more appearances already in the next chapter! Feedback is always welcomed :) I will try and post two chapters per week; Monday/Tuesday and Friday. Thank you for reading ❤️

Character list Here

[buttacake80]

adding in my 2 sense with the samantha situation bc i feel like everyone here talking about it has never been in a toxic codependant relationship. she's that typical white spoiled mean girl who has her public famous bf and her secret hookups. he's stupid and easily manipulated. how long do you see them lasting? and can we get your opinion? like i feel like you know how adult relationships work.

It's hard to say.

First, the divorce rate for first-time marriages in the US is 43%. That number changes based upon race & age. There's a higher divorce rate for 2nd and 3rd marriages.

Amongst athletes, that number jumps to 60% to 80%.

I suspect infidelity is one of the main reasons. I think some couples thrive when the husband is gone 6-8 months of the year, but once they are home on a permanent basis, they realize they aren't compatible. In other cases, I think there are pure financial reasons at play. I am even positive there are some spouses who left athletes in order to pursue their own career aspirations.

Regardless, that number is a lot higher than the average American household.

I don't know what the specific divorce rate is within the NHL. But, the league seems to be a lot more conservative when compared to the NFL, WNBA, NWSL, and NBA. I'd say MLB is only more conservative than the NHL. I am unsure about MLS.

Owners don't like messy players with messy personal lives. That's true across every pro league, but the NHL seems irrationally intolerant to individuality. And, it's likely to be a younger player who tests the boundaries of individuality.

I reckon a young immature millionaire whose frontal lobe hasn't fully formed (i.e. Matthews & the Scottsdale incident) is a threat to league conformity. Not simply a liability.

So, I bet there are folks in management advising these young players to seek stability in the form of a relationship. "Everything about your life is chaotic, so why don't you find a sweet girl to come home to?"

[Hell. Specifically within hockey, I suspect that there is a wee superstitious few who view getting married (or remaining unmarried) as necessary to winning the Cup.]

I don't think it's a requirement. Just a general expectation that they have a main girl who is suitable enough to attend team functions. Who won't air their business out when things go left. And who won't make a fuss if her beau sees another girl or two on the road. It's about maintaining appearances.

The average age for first-time marriage is between 28-30. So, there are young athletess who are legitimately in love and who think they have found their life partner (it's just unlikely that it is the case).

Furthermore, there are probably some players who really, really want children, so they settle for a woman who understands what she is getting into. It's a marriage of convenience. He gets kids. She gets his money. It works until it doesn't.

📣It only becomes an issue for me when innocent folks get tangled up in these understandings.📣

From the outside, it may seem like their relationship doesn't work. To us. But we aren't privy to the inner concessions they have made to exist in such a public relationship. As long as both parties have agreed that their relationship is open or has some other fluid aspect to it, then it's not my concern.

And, because folks do cheat, it's hard to know if one is in an actual open relationship or if they are operating on their own agenda.

Which is why I advised that other anon not to shit where she eats. It would suck to get caught up with the athlete in your building, only to find out you misunderstood the status of your relationship. Then you're stuck in your lease, trying to avoid the asshole who might pop up with another girl.

[zablife]

Pink Venom

Jack Nelson x Kathleen "Kit" (OC-Jack's fiancee) x Gina Gray

Summary: Newly engaged Jack and Kathleen seem like the perfect couple until Gina arrives and begins to make trouble. Will her plan to win Kathleen work?

Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see a love triangle with Jack and Gina vying for the attention of the reader. I changed it to an OC. Please note there is NO INCEST!!

Warnings: language, drinking, cheating, fighting, mention of sex

Boston, March 15, 1933

The organ player began Ave Maria once more as the guests shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The old wooden pews creaked and a few coughs could be heard amongst the wedding guests, but no one dared utter a word as they witnessed Jack’s hands curl into fists at his sides, clenching tightly until his knuckles turned white. The wedding that should have begun an hour ago was woefully late, so much so that the priest leaned into the groom asking feebly, “Perhaps someone should check on your bride, Mr. Nelson?” 

Jack gritted his teeth as he thought, Goddamn right. Where the hell is she?

———————————————————

London, October 1932

“Michael? Michael!” Gina shouted as she tugged on her calfskin gloves. She swished down the hallway quickly searching the rooms until she came to his office, noting how he didn’t bother to look up at her from his ledgers. 

“Michael I was calling you!” she said as she tapped her foot impatiently.

Michael looked up slowly with an annoyed expression asking, “What is it, Gina? I’m busy.”

“I need my allowance,” she said giving him a doe eyed stare. 

“You’ve spent three times your allotted expenditures for the month already. Why do you need more?” he asked leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. Her demands were becoming relentless.

“I’m going shopping with Uncle Jack’s new fiancee and I don’t want to be embarrassed. Do you want me to look like a poverty stricken charity case in front of her?” she pouted at him.

Michael knew a temper tantrum was inevitable if he let her continue so he reached into his desk for the roll of bills he kept for emergencies and counted out the maximum he was willing to part with for her frivolous shopping spree. Handing it across the desk with a huff, he held her hand tightly as he warned, “Behave yourself, Gina.”

She slid her hand away smoothly and placed the money in her purse as she smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t I always, dear?” 

—————————————————————————

“You must be Kathleen,” Gina said, leaning in for an air kiss to the woman’s cheek.

“Please, we’re about to become family. Call me, Kit,” the young woman said with a kind smile. She was not at all what Gina had expected. Although she knew her uncle liked young, attractive women she had no idea he had chosen someone this young. They were practically the same age.

“Alright, then. Kit,” Gina said pronouncing the last syllable precisely as she sized up the woman who would become her aunt. She was breathtaking, that much was true.

“Jack has told me so much about you. He says you’re missing home as much as I am. I have to admit, I’m anxious to return to Boston. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the weather here!” she said gesturing toward the misting rain outside the shop window.

Gina mirrored her polite smile with a noticeable lack of sincerity. She hoped the conversation would improve throughout the day. She hated small talk because it usually signaled a complete lack of imagination and a woeful shortage of gossip. Still Gina knew how to make her own fun if none were readily available and she felt the need for mischief creep up on her before she could stop herself. Not that she would have wanted to.

“Shall we have a look?” Gina said removing her gloves and taking a stroll. Kit nodded in agreement and they walked on together.

As Gina listened to Kit discuss her privileged upbringing and well-connected parents, Gina understood why her uncle was so eager to marry her. However, she doubted Kit had any idea what she was getting herself into by marrying one of Boston’s most notorious gangsters.

After hearing all about the wedding planning, Gina couldn’t stay silent any longer. “And how are you getting on with the children? Are you ready to step in as their new mother?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in Kit’s direction. 

Kit stopped short and held her breath for a moment. No one had asked her about this yet as most people thought it impolite to bring up anything regarding Jack’s status as a widower. She was glad no one had broached the topic before because she was nervous about the arrangement. The children were quite young and adorable, but no one would ever replace their own mother. 

“They’re precious children. I’m honored to become their step mother,” Kit said softly. “In time Jack and I hope to have children of our own as well,” she said looking down at the floor shyly. 

“Well, that is admirable. The children need stability after all that’s happened…watching as their mother was forced to leave them,” Gina said. Kit looked up at her with furrowed brow wondering why she’d used that wording.

“Wh- What do you mean by that?” she said.

Gina stepped closer and placed a hand on Kit’s forearm gently. “My uncle isn’t perfect, but I can see you’re going to be good for him,” she said, searching her eyes carefully. “Yes, loyal to him.” Then she broke away to walk ahead as she continued with a wave of her hand, “Aunt Maggie didn’t understand him at all. That’s why she ended up where she did.”

“Buried at St. Matthew’s?” Kit asked with a confused look.

“Is she? Well that’s a new one on me,” Gina replied, “Oh, Kit, perhaps we should have spoken sooner.”

————————————————————

Two weeks later…

“You happy to be home, doll?” Jack asked, stroking Kit’s cheek gently as he placed her suitcases inside her Boston apartment.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said. She thought back to the unpleasantness of her last weeks in London and how upset she’d been after spending time with Jack’s niece. Her face fell at the thought and Jack was quick to notice her sudden change in demeanor. 

“You still thinking about Gina’s crazy lies, huh?” he said sadly. “God, I’m so sorry she scared you like that,” he said sympathetically pulling her into his arms for a kiss. She pressed her cheek to his chest feeling the beating of his heart and the warmth of his body, wanting to believe his numerous denials. However, there was something about the way Gina had spoken to her that made her seem like far more of an authority on the matter.

“Hey, you going to be alright for the New Years Eve party?” Jack asked hooking a finger under her chin. “We’re gonna be entertaining the most important people in the city, you know. I need you, Kitty Kat,”he said smoothly leaning in for a kiss.

Kit melted into him and when she pulled away, she smiled lovingly at him. “I’ll be better than alright so long as I have you.”

“That’s my girl,” Jack said with a broad smile. 

———————————————————-

New Years Eve 1933

Kit had made her rounds on Jack’s arm, greeting the endless stream of party guests. She’d chatted merrily with all of them until she spotted Gina enter the room. Pulling herself closer into Jack’s side she whispered, “Jack, darling, you didn’t tell me your niece would be here.”

“Michael had business in New York and Gina phoned yesterday to see if she’d be welcome for a visit. I didn’t have the heart to tell her no,” he said. “It’s not a problem is it?”

Not wanting to ruin the mood of the party, Kit replied, “Of course, she’s welcome.”

The night wore on without incident. Gina found plenty of people to entertain her and Kit soon found herself unaware she was even in attendance until a few minutes after midnight. Stepping out onto the balcony, she found a somber Gina smoking lazily. She appeared to have been crying, but she still looked as beautiful as ever, barely a hair out of place as she stood regally in her gold satin gown. 

“Gina, is something the matter?” Kit asked, approaching carefully. She couldn’t stand the sight of someone in tears, even if it was a person who had hurt her feelings not so long ago.

Gina shook her head softly, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air.

“Please talk to me. Do you miss Michael?” Kit ventured again, unwillingly to leave when she feared something important may have happened.

Gina scoffed as she extinguished her cigarette beneath the heel of her shoe. “How can I miss a man who’s never around?”

“Jack said he had business in New York. I assume it must be urgent if he had to work over the holidays,” Kit said trying to be diplomatic.

“There’s always something more important. The business, his family, every fucking thing before me,” Gina said bitterly as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

Kit looked away unsure of how to comfort her. “Well, tonight you’re with Jack and me so we’ll look after you. We’re very glad you came,” Kit offered, trying to think of some way to cheer her up.

Gina looked at Kit hopefully and walked toward her, stumbling a bit as she made her way over. She must have had too much champagne, Kit thought. Gina grabbed onto Kit’s arm and Kit held her steady. 

“You can’t imagine how lonely I am, can you? No one to kiss on New Year’s Eve.” She looked up into Kit’s enormous blue eyes and asked “Will you kiss me?” 

Then she leaned in and placed a soft kiss to her lips, delicate at first and then lingering in its warmth as she pushed her chest into Kit’s arm. Kit’s breath caught in her throat as she felt her pulse race at the contact. Then she stood frozen as Gina broke away, smiling dreamily as she ambled back inside as though nothing had happened.

———————————————————

One week later…

Kit lingered outside Jack’s office, waiting for him to end an important call before venturing inside with the question that had been running through her mind since the party. When would she see Gina again? Pushing the heavy door aside, she crossed to Jack’s desk hesitantly.

“Jack, darling, I was wondering if you could tell me if Gina will be joining us for dinner this evening?” she asked trying to sound as casual as possible. 

Jack barely looked up from his desk, shaking his head. “Um…no, not tonight,” he replied, distracted by the note he was making on a pad by the phone.

“That’s a pity,” she said to herself, but loudly enough Jack heard.

Looking up at her quizzically, he knitted his brow asking, “Why is that, sweetheart? You best friends with Gina now?”

Her heart thundered in her chest, wondering if he’d seen their kiss on the balcony. Thinking quickly she stammered out an overzealous response. “You said we should be kind to her, that’s all. And I don’t want another surprise appearance. I have to have time to do the shopping you know!”

Jack broke into a wide grin as he stood and took her into his arms. He kissed her gently and tilted her chin up toward him. “Want to be the perfect little wife for me don’t you, doll?”

She nodded in silent agreement and straightened his tie dutifully. Stepping back toward his desk he searched through a stack of papers adding, “Don’t worry, Michael’s back in town and he’ll keep Gina out of our hair. I know you want to focus on planning the wedding.” He gave her a wink and she smiled back at him. 

“I have to get to a meeting. That guest list you wanted me to make is here somewhere in this mess. Can you find it for me, Kitty Kat?” he pleaded, looking down at his watch.

“Sure, Jack,” she said, returning the quick kiss he delivered on his way out the door. She sighed as she listened to his footsteps thudding down the stairs, her heart rate returning to normal with the diminishing sound.

Collapsing into his chair, she began her task of sorting through the mountain of paperwork in front of her. She chuckled at his disorganization wondering how he found anything in such disarray. It took nearly twenty minutes to find the list Jack had asked her to find, written in his elegant, but cramped handwriting. Just as she was tidying the last of his papers, an open ledger caught her eye and as she read, the contents made her eyes go wide.

—————————————————-

Two days later…

Gina waited patiently for the quiet sobs on the other end of the line to die down. “Kit? What’s happened?” she asked.

“He denied it, but it’s exactly as you said, Gina. I found the accounting books in his study,” Kit explained, twisting the telephone cord in her fingers until the wire cut the circulation painfully. She hadn’t been spying on Jack. It had been an honest mistake, looking through his papers to find the guest list for the wedding. He had invited her to do so. He must have left the book open thinking she wouldn’t understand the meaning of his notes, but she had connected the dots.

“It was all there. The money he’s been sending to Palm Beach to keep his wife Maggie away. I feel like a fool,” Kit said. 

Gina sat at her desk, pursing her lips. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Kit, but she deserved to know the truth and now she had it. However, she sensed there was more and she waited as Kit continued.

“He’s got other accounts as well for two more women. Did you know about them?” she said sniffling.

Gina bit her tongue, unsure how to answer. Her uncle had always been a womanizer so it didn’t surprise her to learn he had mistresses. It seemed unfair for him to be cheating on Kit already, especially because she was such a perfect bride. However, quality never mattered. It was quantity Jack was after. He had to be loved and admired by as many women as possible. His ego practically demanded it. 

“Kit, it’s not a good idea for you to be alone right now. You’ve had a shock. Why don’t you come over and we’ll talk,” Gina said tracing a pattern on her desk with her fingertip. 

————————————————————

February 1933

“You going out with Gina again today, sweetheart?” Jack asked, coming to stand behind Kit as she applied her makeup at the vanity. 

“Yes, she’s helping me at the final dress fitting,” Kit replied with a sweet, yet insincere smile.

Jack massaged her shoulders with his large hands, attempting to dislodge the visible tension she held in her neck. “You’re so tense, sweetheart,” he remarked. “You nervous about the wedding stuff?”

Kit’s eyes flicked up to meet Jack’s in the mirror and she simply hummed in agreement. 

“Well, don’t be. I’ve got plenty of people to help you out, ok? I don’t want you to worry about a thing,” he said placing a kiss to the spot below her ear where he knew she was ticklish. She reacted instantly, swatting him away with her freshly manicured hand. 

“Jack, I’ll be late,” she whispered, ducking here head. And he breathed a heavy sigh, frustrated by their lack of intimacy recently. He assumed it was the stress of their impending nuptials, but it was far more.

The thought of him touching her in that exact spot brought back memories of the day she had visited Gina. She’d been overwrought, accepting one too many drinks as they discussed what she should do about her fiance. Gina sat beside her on the sofa, listening sympathetically as Kit explained all the reasons why she couldn’t call off her wedding to Jack.

Gina leaned forward to emphasize her point, “You don’t have to do this, Kit.”

“Do what?”

“Make everyone happy when you’re miserable. Jack isn’t worth it. Think about what you want for a change.”

“I want someone to love me the way I love,” Kit said and her face was so hopeful and naive, Gina couldn’t help but stare.

Gina stroked Kit’s knee in slow, soothing circles. “That’s all I wanted when I married Michael, but he let me down too. Men aren’t capable of kindness or devotion.”

Kit’s hand began to shake as she placed it over Gina’s. It wasn’t fear, but anger that rose in her throat next. “Gina, how can they get away with treating us this way? How will we recover?”

The lamplight sparked the gold fleck’s in Gina’s hazel eyes as she replied with steely determination, “Because we’re stronger than they are. And what they’ve done is nothing compared to what we’re capable of,” she said clasping hands with Kit.

Kit looked confused, shaking her head she lamented, “I doubt anything I did would make Jack feel my pain.”

Gina smirked as she leaned toward Kit, placing her lips at the shell of her ear and whispering, “I’ll tell you a little secret, Kit. It’s not about pain, it’s about power. They’ve hurt us, but not like we’re going to hurt them,” placing a featherlight kiss just below Kit’s earlobe. 

Kit’s breath hitched at Gina’s words. They made her feel in control of her life again and she was intoxicated by the feeling. Turning her head toward Gina, she captured her lips in a desperate kiss, lacing a hand through her platinum bob and pulling her impossibly closer.

——————————————————

March 15, 1933

Jack stalked to the back of the church with all the guests watching and whispering behind him as he went. His ears burned in embarrassment as he attempted to hold his composure and failed.

Anxious to find the cause of the delay, he pushed the heavy doors at the back of the chapel harshly, squinting as they opened onto the brightness of the midday sun. He held a hand over his eyes, searching for his bride, but found the street in front of St. Stephen’s empty. Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and paced as he thought.

At that moment the doors opened once more and Michael came barreling toward him, shaking a small piece of paper under his nose. “Thieving American bastard!” he hissed. “You and your niece planned this all along to take everything from me!” He threw a punch, but it didn’t connect as Jack ducked in the nick of time. As Jack stood to straighten himself, Michael pulled at his lapels and tried to push Jack into the brick facade of the church front, but Jack overpowered him, turning the tables and pinning him to the wall.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jack demanded to know, curling a hand over Michael’s throat.

Michael lifted the letter to Jack’s eye level, crushing the note with his fist and Jack snatched it away quickly. He threw Michael unceremoniously onto his ass in the church yard as he skimmed the contents, his breath coming in short gasps as he realized the gravity of the situation. 

Michael,

By the time you read this, I’ll be on board a luxurious ocean liner far away from you and your bullshit. There’s no point in looking for me or the fortune you’ll certainly find missing when the markets open on Monday. Don’t bother asking why, you know why. You’ve been a terrible husband to me and now it’s time for you to pay the price. If you’re thinking of revenge, which I’m sure you are, know that your cousin Tommy won’t be helping you. Now that your mother is gone, he holds no further loyalty to you. In fact, I’ve told him all about your dealings with the Billy Boys so I’d recommend going into hiding yourself.

P.S.-Tell the jilted groom to check his breast pocket. Then he'll know I stole his bride. By the way, we’re fucking.

“What the fuck?” Jack exclaimed through clenched teeth and dug into his jacket, producing another small note which had gone unnoticed until now. He read it with Michael looking over his shoulder at a distance.

Jack,

You’ve hurt me more than you could possibly know, lying to me and the children about your wife’s death and keeping whores behind my back. I don’t know how you could do that to someone you care for. Gina has taught me what it is to be truly loved and I’m going away to make a life with her. She warned me that you might try to threaten me. Well I won’t be bullied into submission any longer. If you try to find me, I’ll tell everyone the truth about Maggie's whereabouts and your attempted bigamy. You'll find the safe in the house is empty of all the cash and jewelry as a parting gift I feel I deserve and I’ve also taken the incriminating ledgers to keep you honest. Your business partners would likely agree that you have some trouble in that department. 

Yours unfaithfully,

Kit

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Did you put her up to this to make me a laughing stock?” Jack asked, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

“Your niece just stole an untold amount of money from me and threatened to have my own family execute me and you think this was my plan?” Michael asked, stumbling backwards to take a seat on the church step.

Jack ran a hand down his face, feeling the blood drain away. “I always knew Gina was rotten, but to go and do a thing like this,” he muttered to himself. Then he turned to Michael in anger, “You couldn’t control her for one goddamn minute and she goes and ruins both our lives?”

Michael pointed a finger at Jack spitefully, “If you hadn’t wanted to fuck everything that moves, your fiancée wouldn’t have come crying to my wife! You arrogant prick!” At that, Jack’s shoulders started to shake with involuntary laughter, a response to the stressful situation at hand. 

“Are you fucking laughing?” Michael asked, face contorted in disgust. 

“They really got us by the balls, huh?” Jack said in disbelief, shaking his head. He joined Michael on the step and dropped his head into his hands. The two men sat next to each other in stunned silence for some time, wondering how two dames had managed to steal their money and their reputations out from under them. Meanwhile, Gina and Kit stood on the deck of the SS Monroe, toasting their newfound happiness.

-------------------------

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[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #29:

Stevie Nick's Bella Donna

Stevie Nicks got zero favors from the patriarchal press or culture in the late 80's and early 90's. Much like Yoko Ono, she was the butt of sexist jokes and unfair critique that their male peers were never subjected to.

Let's compare Nicks and Stephen Tyler: both came of age in the mid-seventies; both fronted huge rock bands and both almost always appeared on stage without an instrument (even though they were hugely successful songwriters); both had major drug problems and overcame them; both were good looking young people who, unlike me, aged (seriously, people speak of me, always in hushed tones: how does he stay so young, they ask. Who else carries their paunch and bald spot with such panache?). Both had a thing for waiving silks around on stage. We could go on all day...

But did they get equal treatment? Hell no. Tyler was a hero for surviving drugs; I grew up cackling about the legendary destruction of Nick's nose from coke. Tyler became even more of a sex symbol as he aged and he dominated MTV in the late 80s and early 90s; Nicks, like Linda Ronstadt, was judged by one and all the moment she no longer looked 22, and Nicks couldn't get on MTV after 86 until Beyonce borrowed her iconic riff from Edge of Seventeen and insisted she show up to take credit:

(That's Nicks with the guitar in the opening moments of this ridiculous and joyful video, showing us that, of course, she can play instruments: how else could she have written a few of the most popular songs of all time?)

But let's stop comparing Nicks and Tyler and never bring up Aerosmith in this blog again: after all, Nicks is a transcendent song writer and singer while Stephen Tyler occupies the rarrified air of pure suckiness inhabited by all famous rock stars named Stephen.

And that brings us to Nicks's debut solo album, Bella Donna. First off, good luck finding this record in a dollar bin: much like her friend Tom Petty, Nicks is rightfully revered by her fans, many of whom were not around to buy her first records when they came out. Plus, my almost famous niece tells me that some dude drank some juice while on a skateboard a few years back with Nicks's Dreams as the soundtrack and, in doing so, destroyed the internet. That previous sentence tells me the internet and people are dumb. Don't go and google the guy on the skateboard; rather check out my niece!

Sweet song huh? Why isn't it destroying the internet instead?

Anyway, apparently the guy on the skateboard, and junk like that, are why busted up copies of Rumors went from dollar bin cloggers to $25 a pop in the last few years. I hope Stevie enjoyed and benefited from the slight renaissance of interest in her work; and, if you don't already own a copy of Bella Donna, know that some teenager without a working record player probably beat you to it.

Which is all a bummer, because Bella Donna deserves your full respect and attention. It's a great, and I think still largely overlooked, testament to her singing, songwriting and entire vibe.

The record opens with the title track, a complex and extended slow piece of soulful searching which summons up the opening gesture pioneered by The Band a decade earlier with Tears of Rage. Nicks is famous for her pop singles, but that genre is really the business of her bandmate Christie McVie; Nicks is a composer of songs, not hits.

You can also hear right off the bat in Bella Donna that Nicks has assembled the right band. Imagine being in position to borrow Benmont Tench from the Heartbreakers, Roy Bittan from Bruuuuce and Waddy Watchel from Linda Ronstadt and Warren Zevon. Tench had no real business joining in - TP and the Heartbreakers were at the height of their fame and were touring nonstop - but he somehow found the time to step right in and lead the whole band. The other two dudes were conveniently available, at least for the moment. Bruuuuuuce was forever firing the E Street Band and was gearing up to make Nebraska on his own, and Linda was starting to move away from pop music for the first of many times; soon she'd be singing light opera with a young Kevin Kline.

Bella Donna is held together, however, not by the men but by the women. Nicks created the whole record through 2+ years of work with Sharon Celani and her soon-to-be sister-in-law Lori Perry. Every song features all three of them shimmering and gliding about one another and Nicks has been singing with the two women - and putting their photos alongside her on her records - ever since. Here's the way Nicks described their work and relationship to "The Last DJ" himself, Jim Ladd, a guy I listened to a lot as a kid:

Sharon [Celani] and Lori [Perry-Nicks] and I have a special thing that we have ~ that we have perfected ~- and we have perfected it by sitting around the piano... I'm not going to go sing on-stage alone. I don't want to. I want to be able to walk away and let them take it. Because I ~ there is nothing in the world that I would rather hear than beautiful singing. And so I have worked to get a sound that is not like anybody else. That is really beautiful, that is strong and that is like dedicated and devoted.

Jim Ladd just passed away; I hope he had Petty's mediocre album about him playing at full blast as he faded. As an LA kid I tuned into Ladd every night in late middle school and early high school, beginning to give up on him only when I decided that Roger Waters, Jim's favorite artist by far, was the problem with all things Pink Floyd from Animals onward. I had a few pretty sharp ideas as a kid!

I remember vividly the very last time I listened to Ladd: I was at the mall for some reason, in the parking lot, and Ladd had his hands on an advanced copy of U2's Zooropa. Ladd played us all Daddy's Gonna Pay for Your Crashed Car, a song which he'd chosen by himself at random - the album was so new he hadn't had time to listen to it yet. Ladd thought the dull and overblown track was a triumph; he'd lose his head on occasion. I disagreed. And so we parted ways. Rest in peace Jim. But I digress!

Every song on Bella Donna shows careful polish and intention. A few tracks, like the instantly hummable, McVie inspired Think About It and the Waylon Jennings inspired Leather and Lace, are tracks Nicks had held onto all through Fleetwood's golden era; this was a record she'd built up to over years.

Indeed, Nicks could have easily turned Bella Donna into a defiant double album, an All-Things-Must-Pass-level declaration that the Mac held her back. Bella Donna contains zero filler and several of the songs left off the record are a big deal. Just take a listen to Gold and Braid, an outtake that other artists would have released as the first single; there's a studio take but it's a bit rough. Listen instead to the pulsating, hip swinging live greatness from the brief tour that followed the record:

Jimmie Iovine, Nicks' producer and partner at the time, made a few key contributions to the record. And he seems to have gotten in the way a bit.

Yes, he connected Nicks to Tom Petty and hand delivered the album's substitute single in place of Gold and Braid, Petty's Stop Dragging My Heart Around. The song is great, sure, but it's the only song Nicks didn't write on the record and it stands apart sonically from everything else, all of which led to the troubling myth about Nicks from her Fleetwood work - that she was best as a karaoke/girl singer, good at showing up for nothing but the vocal polish long after the male musicians had done writing, playing and heavy lifting - following her into the birth of her solo career. The truth is far different: Nicks conceived all of Bella Donna on her own. Everything, that is, except the Petty track.

Iovine pushed Stop Dragging My Heart Around on Nicks specifically because he felt the album lacked a single. But take a fresh listen to the track alongside Gold and Braid, and consider my argument that the record would have been even bolder and better with Nick's track remaining in place instead of Petty's inclusion.

Don't get me wrong, Iovine was right to bring Nicks into Stop Dragging My Heart Around. Stevie sings with TP better than any other human on the planet could have. But Dragging belongs, alongside Petty and Nick's incomparable Insider, on Hard Promises.

The craziest thing of all is that Iovine thought Bella Donna lacked a single to begin with. After all, Edge of Seventeen is on this record. The song is pretty ubiquitous: I feel like I've heard its riff and chorus at every sporting event I've ever been to. Obviously, I haven't, but it's one of those songs that its hard to imagine the world without.

And let's close this out with her live performance of that song from her far too brief tour in 82. Find me a more powerful and soulful performance by any white person. All of Nick's male peers, from Lindsey Buckingham to Van Morrison to Neil Young to Petty himself - would have fallen flat on their face had they tried to do anything this complicated, athletic and surging on stage at that point (make that ever). Stephen Stills would have somehow managed to fall on his face and ass simultaneously.

OOO Baby. Oooo Baby. OOOOO.

And so, as this first partial year in the Dollar Bin rolls towards closure, may all praise raineth down upon Stevie.

My record melting/Neil Young questioning, big deal friend Greg points out that Nicks, Stephen Tyler and Stephen Stills have yet another thing in common: they all practically have the same first name!

And so let me amend my earlier, definitive statement regarding the suckiness of musicians with that moniker (and redeem the unintentionally slighted Stevie Wonder and Cat Stevens in the process) with a bumper sticker ready (so long as your car is WIDE LOAD width) pronouncement: The Dollar Bin hereby proclaims that all WHITE MALE musicians with FIRST names derived from Steve/Stephen, (except, most of the time time, Steve Earle..) suck.

Here's looking at you Steve Miller! My curses upon thee Steve Vai!

[konohamaru-sensei]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @foolishk. I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH.

hq au cuties.

The usual jingle sounded over the speakers in the train car and Hajime steadied his nervous hands by taking out his phone from his pocket as he left the car. It was about a ten minute walk from Tenno-Ji station to the studio in Harajuku, and he would suffer the entire way if he couldn’t keep his mind busy somehow.

In his bag the bottle of wine he had brought was clinging with every step. It had taken him ages to pick out, mostly because he didn’t know what Kaiya liked or if it even was appropriate to bring anything for the occasion. Sure, she had said that they could celebrate the final product they had worked on together, but maybe she had just meant it metaphorically.

Unfortunately for him, his phone screen didn’t show anything that he hadn’t already seen when he woke up. There were about twenty messages of support from Tooru, mostly emojis. It was about 2 a.m in Buenos Aires right now, but that didn’t seem to deter his best friend from texting. 

Hajime already regretted that he had talked to Tooru about this in the first place, given his track record with lovers, he probably wasn’t the best guy to chat up about advice. But he hadn’t wanted to go to anyone else with this specific matter that made him so very insecure.

Still, he couldn’t help himself. He opened the LINE-chat with Tooru and looked at the last batch of the spam he had sent overnight. “Tell me everything when you are done ^_^ “ and “I will stay up and wait for your report ><” and “Of course she likes you too, who wouldn`t?!!” 

Yeah well, Hajime thought in a reply he would never send, Tooru hadn’t liked him, no matter how long they had stayed by each other’s side. Not that this mattered now, their friendship was still solid and with Tooru time zones away in Argentina, Hajime at least had the opportunity to move on to someone new.

He found the studio in a backstreet of the busy clothing streets of Harajuku, the outside sign was as colourful and weird as it had been the first time he had come here. It felt ages ago by now, though it was only about half a year, when he first stood here and stared at the entryway of this old 60ies style building. Hajime didn’t know then who that person was he was about to meet and frankly, he had only limited interest in that project the marketing department had thrown together and involved him in. All he knew was that the artist’s name was Uchiha Kaiya and that this was her colourful but weird studio.

“We will make it a contest,” the marketing lady Yamagata-san had said with the widest grin she could muster without looking like a mannequin. “Several artists can submit concepts for an advertising campaign involving our national volleyball team. The winning artist will be then contracted to design the full campaign and we will distribute it nationally.”

 Hajime had nodded, but wondered why he was being told this. “Sounds solid.” Surely, there was a catch, otherwise they weren’t telling him about this.

“We thought you might be the advisor to the winner.” Ah, he thought, there was the catch. Yamagata-san read his face. “Not all the time, of course, Iwaizumi-san, just at the beginning. Once the campaign is sort of set, we from marketing can take over. It’s just important that all the players are well represented and nobody knows them better than you.”  

As much as he might have wanted to, there was no arguing with this point. And, since his players were currently mostly engaged in their own clubs all over the world, he couldn’t even excuse himself from the responsibility by saying he had training to attend to. 

So he found himself staring at the oddly coloured sign of the contest’s winner, Uchiha Kaiya, who had a degree from prestigious Tokyo University, but had not done any bigger projects after that. Not that Hajime blamed her for that; making money with art was notoriously hard.

His first impression of the young woman that appeared in front of him was that she looked cute, but Kaiya was much more than just a pretty face. Not only was she clearly talented at her work, she was also passionate and cooperative, smart and funny and above all, she loved the sport of Volleyball, though she had barely played it herself when she was younger.

By the time the three sessions that he had been obliged to tag along had passed, Hajime found himself going back anyways, no matter how often Yamagata-san told him he didn’t need to. He faked interest in the campaign, used an excuse or two to say that it was just for the sake of his players portrayal, but in reality he just went back to see Kaiya again.

Turned out, she had grown up in Tokyo and had never left the city. “I can’t really see myself in the countryside,” she had said and smiled. “But I’m sure it can be nice.”

“I certainly miss going everywhere by bike,” he had replied. “I know I could technically do that here in Tokyo too, but it seems so very dangerous. Also, the noise here is something one needs to get used to.” She laughed at his remark and he felt like he had done something right. 

Kaiya told him how she used to sneak into the Volleyball practice of her high school team to observe the boys playing, sometimes the girl team too, but mostly the boys. Hajime, as main scout and head coach of Japan’s national team, had obviously heard about Nekoma High school and their premier boys team, though he had never personally played against them in their prime. 

“Ask  her out,” Tooru had said right away when Hajime had mentioned Kaiya the first time. 

Back then he had replied a lazy: “It’s not like that” even though it maybe was exactly like that.

Eventually though, when the design for the posters and the train banners were slowly nearing its completion and Hajime was often just sitting with Kaiya for hours talking about everything but the campaign, he had to allow himself to admit that he might have a little crush again. THen it took him another week or so to fight his own insecurity. Just because he had a crush that led nowhere in his teenage years, didn’t mean this one needed to lead nowhere too. 

He just needed to follow Tooru’s advice and ask her out. “I will see her on Sunday morning for the last time to clear up the very last questions,” he had told his old friend. “I will ask her out then.”

 “You can do it, Iwa-chan,” Tooru had sung over the phone line. “I will send you support when the time comes.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Hajime had assured, but of course Tooru did whatever Tooru wanted and sent 20 texts anyway.

He took three steps at a time to make it up to the studio entrance door, which once again had the wildly coloured sign of her name next to it. If all went well he would probably return to this place another time after he left it today, but if not… No, he wasn’t even going to think about that, it would just make him nervous again.

At first he didn’t see her at all when he entered her studio, but then he spotted her legs crossed behind a big canvas. “Iwaizumi-san” Kaiya said with a smile when she noticed him. “Nice to see you!” There was a bit of red paint on her nose and Hajime actively suppressed the urge to wipe it away from her.

“I see you are working hard,” he smiled, avoiding as always to address her by her name. He had somehow gotten used to calling her Kaiya in his mind, though she had never offered her first name to him. It was too embarrassing to admit that he already felt so familiar with her, that he wasn’t using her last name as she was using for him, so he just avoided using a name in general.

She was painting a giant canvas of a sunrise and when he looked over it with awe, she explained: “Client wants it for their living room, but I’m not happy with it yet, I think I will start over.”

“I think it looks phenomenal,” he said and meant it.

 His compliment made her laugh a little shyly. She put the brush down and stretched a little, then she said: “Should we look at the final product one last time?” He nodded and offered his hand to help her get up from the floor. 

Not that there was anything new to look at really, they had gone over the design so many times that there was nothing to discuss. Still, Hajime had come round every week to “see if there were any changes”, just to have an excuse to see Kaiya again. He had wondered why she hadn’t pointed out this fact a long time ago and secretly hoped that maybe, maybe, she had also scheduled more meetings with him, because she liked hanging out.

They walked over to the posters on a big pile on her work desk. With the Olympics over it was never a bad idea to keep interest in your sport high, especially in a country like Japan so dominated by Football and Softball, so they had decided to make the ad campaign very flashy. Several players were on each poster and when Hajme had to think back at the struggle it was to get all of them for individual photo sessions and on top of that, for each of them to look good, he almost got a headache.

“I wish we had gotten a picture of him where he doesn’t frown,” Hajime said for what felt like the third time, picking up one of the posters that showed Wakatoshi and his ever so stern stare into the camera. “But every picture with him smiling somehow ended up scarier.”

Kaiya took the poster out of his hand and looked at it thoroughly again, as if she hadn’t looked at it about a hundred times before. “I tried to make the lighting different so he looks a little more friendly,” she explained something she had said before. “Unfortunately it seems like a lost cause. Ushijima-san looks best when he just looks relaxed.”

“If that is what you can call “relaxed”, then yes,” he laughed. 

“Is there anything else that you notice?” She asked and put the poster down. “You better not, because I don’t want to start over now.” She laughed, but he knew she was being serious. Last time, after all, he had told her that it was exactly right the way it was.

He lifted his hands in defence: “I don’t-  I don’t have anything, I swear. I just thought we could celebrate the successful work together.” He pointed at his bag. “I brought some wine, mostly because I couldn’t decide what champagne to buy..” And also, though he couldn’t say that out loud, because he felt like champagne was much too fancy and felt like he was asking her for marriage, when he was just trying to ask her out.

She watched him take the bottle out. “I don’t think I have glasses for that…” she said and put a finger to her cheek. “I don’t think I have any glasses here.”

“Damn,” Hajime let out. “I totally forgot that is necessary.”

“We could always just go into town and have something there,” Kaiya put her head to the side. “It is lunch time soon anyway.”

He almost dropped the bottle he had been holding. The entire week he’d been at the end of his nerves for this day, planning to ask her out for dinner or a movie or karaoke or anything she liked doing, and here she was, just casually inviting him out for lunch, ruining his plan completely.

Well, even if they went out for lunch he would have to ask her to see her again after that, so he guessed not everything was ruined.

“Sure, if you feel like it.” He smiled. “My treat.”

Kaiya lightly moved over her nose. “Huh?” she made and then looked at her finger and blushed instantly. “D-did I have paint on my face the entire time?”

Her embarrassment was so cute that he bit his lower lip not to let out a big, long drawn “awww”. Instead he rather felt like sparing her. “I didn’t even notice,” he lied.

She looked at him as if she knew he was lying, but quickly wiped the paint off her face behind a flat hand so he couldn’t see.

“You can lead the way, then,” he said, walking to the door to open it to her and when she moved past him his heart skipped a beat.

On the way down the stairs he quickly typed into his phone: Go to sleep. But then added a quick: :) 

[ofenigmas]

(Chace Crawford) [THE LOTHARIO]. Please welcome [JASPER SINCLAIR (HE/HIM)] to Huntsville, WV. They are a [34]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [SERVER at BUCKY'S DINER]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive. 

BASICS

NAME: jasper elliot sinclair

BIRTH DATE + AGE: november 11, 1988 – 00:12

GENDER: male

PRONOUNS: he/him

ORIENTATION: heterosexual

OCCUPATION: server at bucky’s diner

BIRTHPLACE: huntsville, west virginia

FAMILY: torrance sinclair - father (deceased), evelyn sinclair née dawson - mother (alive??), jace sinclair - older brother (alive), xxx sinclair - younger sister (alive??)

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: chace crawford

EYE COLOR: ocean blue

HAIR: light/medium brown

HEIGHT: 6′0″

TATTOOS: n/a

SCARS/BIRTH MARKS: n/a

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: scorpio sun, sagittarius moon, leo rising

MBTI: entp, the debater.

ENNEAGRAM: 8w7, the non-conformist. sexual/self preservation subtype

ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

ARCHETYPE: the lothario / the jester

ELEMENT: air

ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS: adrian ivashkov (va), logan huntzberger (gg), derek from the swan princess, jj parker (all-american), barney stinson (himym)

AESTHETIC: headlights reflected on rainy pavement, an empty glass of scotch, grins that don’t meet your eyes, expensive cologne, designer brands, golden retrievers, lipstick marks on white collars, sleeves rolled up to elbows, crooked ties, perfectly disheveled hair, being the family disappointment.

tw: death, cheating

middle child of three 

the sinclair family has been a member of huntsville for generations and generations, but that didn’t stop torrance sinclair from wanting to be the first to leave. it took all the scheming he could, but an embellished resume landed him a corporate job that was mostly based in atlanta. his intent had been to move the family after they’d all graduated high school at his wife’s request, but he rarely ever came home after that, too busy with his new life. 

evelyn didn’t really care about the children having a ‘stable education’, but the man in town she was having an affair with and wasn’t ready to destroy her reputation for, but also didn’t want to leave. 

jasper was far from a star pupil, but he was well-known, and one of the best soccer players their town had. it was hid dream to eventually play in the professional league. 

he was your typical jock, surrounding himself only with other athletes and their significant others, partying from a young age (easy when your parents were rarely around), prom king, etc. 

had two or three main best friends from the soccer team and one of their girlfriends, celia. in his mind, life would never change, going to the same university, no one ever breaking up, his own family he’d made and ... frankly ? liked more than his own. it was a bit hypocritical considering he broke up with his own girlfriends monthly. 

eventually celia and his best friend broke up, which he blames as the catalyst for the downfall of their high school legacy, and was quite bitter about the break up, as though that were why his best friend lost touch with him.

he went away to play soccer for the wvu mountaineers, where he did have a potential at going pro, at least until he broke his leg during a street race. his father was disgusted that he’d thrown away his only chance at being worth something, but at least he had his political science major... 

shortly after graduation, jasper went back to huntsville for another weekend trip to visit his friends when the storm hit. 

a few months after the storm began, his father came looking for them (more out of anger at their shirked responsibilities of following his dreams for them than concern) and refused to be trapped in the town, but was caught at the border by the monsters. jasper was never close to his father, but generally doesn’t like to talk about this. their last conversation was about his being a failure, as usual. 

generally is pleasant but arrogant and doesn’t really care what happens to anyone except his best friends and siblings.

has slept with or attempted to sleep with every woman in town. 

worked as treasurer at the town hall but got fired for doing.... extracurricular... activities... instead of money-related things in his office. now works at bucky’s diner. 

top 5 theme songs:

the hills by the weeknd i only **** you when it’s half past five, the only time i’d ever call you mine, i only love it when you touch me, not feel me

@ my worst by blackbear but maybe i’m the worst, the worst you ever had, tell you you’re beautiful then stab you in the back

astronaut in the ocean by masked wolf i’ma play her for fun, y’all don’t really know my mental, let me give you the pencil, like a stencil, falling out, in a drought

i mean it by g-eazy if i ever said i’m never scared, just know i mean it. if i ever said i ****ed your *****, just know i mean it. – she calls me, i screen it, only ****ing if it’s convenient – yeah listen, i’m telling you, it’s my world, i does what i wish to

ghost by witt lowry “now get your shit together” is what i’m told – used to dream of the top, had nightmares at the bottom – when you feel more like a product than a person, that’s a problem

His Pinterest board is here.

His Spotify playlist is here.

— CONNECTIONS:

FAMILIAL:

SIBLING - { 2 / 2 } - jace sinclair, jasmine sinclair - one older brother and one younger sister

COUSIN - { 0 / ? } - anyone related to either of his parents’ siblings, their family has been around for generations. 2-4. at least half white (although one could be adopted!!)

PLATONIC:

BEST FRIENDS - { 1 / 2 or 3} - celia ortega - this may not be mutual, but people jasper considers to be his favorite people he’d do anything for. at least one was best friends with him in high school and a fellow jock/popular kid. 

‘NEPHEW’ - { 1 / 1 } - felipe ortega

FRENEMIES - { 0 / 3 } - people jasper gets along with at times but also wouldn’t hesitate to laugh at their expense

ROOMMATES - { 2 / 2 } - jace and jasmine sinclair - jasper’s family still had a house before the storm so he’s stayed living there with two others. 

FRIENDS - { 1 / ? } - eliana kapur jasper is often known to hang out with other arrogant, self-important people in town, but also has maybe one or two friends that don’t fit into any of those categories that he likes to keep separate from his regular life.

ACQUAINTANCES - { 0 / ? } they’ve met before at a party, the diner, around town, etc.

CO-WORKERS - { 0 / ? } - others who work at the diner

ANTAGONISTIC:

FORMER FRIENDS - { 0 / 2 } people he’s somehow managed to screw over whether on accident or on purpose to prove a point

ENEMIES - { 0 / ? } - did he sleep with their ex/significant other/sister/them and now they hate him? did his general arrogant and careless disposition start it? the possibilities are endless

ROMANTIC:

*   ✨  i do not plot out ships so none of these are meant to lead to an actual “romantic” ship unless it does on accident from chemistry! ✨

EX-GIRLFRIEND - chloe danuil (a few days in middle school) - jasper wasn’t always a complete commitment phobe, and up until the end of university would date people... for a month or two before he got bored... maybe one managed to stick around for six months to a year and he actually had feelings for her but she cheated on him to rly cement that “all relationships are doomed” vibes?? age: female, must be v close in age if it was high school. 

FRIENDS W BENEFITS - { 0 / 2 } - jasper mostly one night stands people to keep it clear he doesn’t want anything more, but there’s a couple people he’s regularly hooked up with and occasionally spends the night with because actually enjoys their company in general too ( i don’t write smut 😂). female, 25+.

OTHER - feel free to hit me up with any other ideas you have as well !

[slightlystupidhun]

Dahlia Dynamite’s

Summary: a Baseball AU brought about by @belsw06 !! The renown baseball team, Dahlia Dynamites, find themselves in one of the toughest seasons of their lives. The team is almost all completely new and fresh. Can they pull of the World Series title?

CW:Suggestive, Cursing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

It was the bottom of the ninth, Dahlia Dynamites we’re up by one point, however, the SunnyVale Vamps had two people on base and their Star batter, Quinn, up to bat. They had two outs and Quinn had accumulated one strike already.

The air that night was cool, chilly, but the energy radiating from the crowd was enough to keep any human warm for a lifetime. The stadium lights were blinding and the announcers speakers were blaring. David Shaw, Dahlias pitcher, walked up to the batters mound. He rotated his shoulders and stretched out his neck. He placed himself firmly into the dirt and prepared to pitch.

Milo Greer, the catcher, prepared himself to receive any pitch David could throw to him. Asher, on first base, looked over to Cristian the short stop, both of them ready to receive. Arden prepared herself on third, and looked over to Miguel and Tank in the outfield.

Tank did quick small jumps from side to side, ready to run in any direction the ball may go. They crouched down as they watched David wind up for the pitch. He threw a fast ball, one that would be difficult for any batter to hit. The audience watched with bated breath as a loud hit could be heard. Quinn’s bat connected with the ball and it went soaring. Tank had a perfect view. This was it. The entire season, their entire career, lead up to this moment. They ran after the ball, their eyes tracking it. They might not make it. They saw the wall at the end of the field rapidly approaching, but they had to catch it. They reached their gloved hand into the air and jumped up. Lights shining into their eyes. This was it.

—————

*8 months earlier*

All of the players made their way out to the field. The team had been hand selected by a world renown coach William Solaire. He wanted to reinstate Dahlias team and take home a World Series championship. The team was close to perfect. They were hungry and young and fresh. He had some of the top players fresh from college all across California. The team had been practicing together for about two months now, but there was someone missing. Someone that their team manager, nicknamed Stealth, was about to bring in.

“Everyone gather around.” William clapped as he blew his whistle. The team all fell in, giving him their undivided attention. Just then Stealth walked over with the new player. “You all know that since Miguel got hurt, we’ve been missing a strong secure outfielder. This is why I’ve decided to bring in an exemplary player. Team, please Welcome Tanker.”

“Woah!!” A man spoke up from the crowd. He had a thick accent, and a cocky attitude. It was The shortstop, Cristian. “Aren’t they the one that was recruited to the SunnyVale Vamps? What are they doing here?”

“They, Cristian, are your new outfielder. They’re a hell of a player, and are going to be a great asset to the team.” William spoke up, fixing the hat on his head.

“Did they get kicked off their other team already?” Cristian spoke up. “I heard they had an affair with the star batter Quinn. What did they break up?”

“Cristian go run laps. Now.” William spoke up.

“No. We didn’t break up.” The new player spoke up for the first time. “I kicked his ass and he’s a sore loser. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like it if you’d mind your own business.”

The new outfielder shared a look with the pitcher, David Shaw. The pair had known each other from school, and they had been extremely close as kids, that was until one day Tank up and left with no word. “Alright let’s get back to practice.” Coach William sounded, breaking the tension between Tank and David.

Everyone headed off, getting in their positions for a scrimmage. The first batter up was Vincent. He was a stellar player and Williams first pick for his team, not to mention the new ones of William himself. David wound up preparing himself to launch a curveball at the batter. The ball sped up and dipped but Vincent was able to hit it just passed second base. Cristian picked up the ball and threw it over to Arden on first, Vincent arriving just before the ball.

Next in line to bat was Frederick. He was fresh and excited. He had the whole dewey eyes new guy thing going for him. David threw the ball right into Milo’s glove, Frederick earning one strike. After two more they had their first out. Next up was a batter from out of state that had been nicknamed ‘Lovely’. They stepped up, peering at David through their grey helmet. He threw the ball hard and swift, it dipped down towards the bass but lovely was able to swing just in time to hit it.

It soared and looked like it was heading over to a home run. Tank tracked the ball in the air, picking up speed and slowly putting their glove in the air. They noticed the border coming closer to them and saw the ball finally dipping down. The ball would hit the ground before they could catch it if they stayed at this level. Tank sped up and jumped against the wall and up into the air. The ball fell perfectly into their glove as they fell to the ground. They’d caught it. They jumped back up and threw the ball over to Cristian, giving him a sly grin. David scoffed and rolled his eyes.

————

*1 Month after that*

Tank had just gone through a rough practice. It wasn’t like they had played horribly. They hardly ever did that. It was just the team hadn’t been getting any better. They were still being put through the ringer, getting a shit ton of slack from everyone. It didn’t help that David, the only person they really knew, would hardly talk to them.

Currently, they were on their way to the med bay. They were tossing a ball back and forth with Milo. They were closest with him thus far, when someone threw a ball fast and hard. They reached out catching it with their ungloved hand. It wasn’t broken but it hurt like a bitch.

They pressed on through the tiled hallways finally reaching the room with the big Red Cross on the door. When they entered they came face to face with a rather handsome man. He had dirty blonde hair, glasses, and his face was littered with freckles.

“Hello there, how can I help you?” He spoke, a thick southern drawl to his voice, as he spun around on his chair to fully face them.

“I uh, my, uhm, my hand it, the ball, I caught it. Without a glove so my hand is just kinda sore. It’s not a big deal. William just wants you to clear it so I can…” they trailed off as he came closer and led them to the chair besides his desk.

“Can I touch?” He asked scanning their features.

“Yes.”

“Ok Thank you.” He looked over at them and gently held their wrist. He slowly extended their fingers, removing it from the previous fist position it was in. “I’m sorry I’m trying not to hurt you. I see some slight contusions forming, does it feel especially sore when I move your hand like this?” He spoke.

“Not any more sore than it was before. Am I ready to get out of here?”

“Not so fast I see a bit of swelling.” They rolled their eyes. “Am I on your bad side already?”

“No. I’m fine. Just gotta get back to practice…” they said sighing and leaning back.

“Well before you speed off, I’m gonna need an X-ray just to make sure that nothin is sprained or broken.” He said helping them up and moving them over to the x ray machine. After the scan came out he gave it a second to set.

“You know I’m fine. It’s not that bad.” They said with sarcastic tone.

“How long did ya wait before comin in?” He looked at them with a smirk.

“Ooh getting personal now are we?” They rolled their eyes.

“Just enough to let me know how reckless you are. Now how long did ya wait?” He asked a slight chuckle in his voice.

“…. About half an hour, or whenever William noticed I guess.” They shrugged.

“Well you’re fortunate you didn’t get any breaks then. Next time try not to wait so long before gettin help.” He said walking over and writing something down on a paper.

“Who said there’d be a next time.” They asked raising a brow.

“If you’ll wait this long after getting hurt this time, and your pain tolerance is this high. I’m gonna make an assumption that this ain’t your first time.” He paused. “And I’m gonna venture to say it ain’t gonna be your last.” He reached out handing them the paper. “Hand this to your coach. Im not letting you practice today. Oh and You shouldn’t drive home. Give your hand a rest if you don’t want it gettin worse. I’m gonna give You a brace to wear for about four days. Then come back and check with me. You should be good for the next practice as long as you wear this brace.” He looked up at them handing them the fabric. When they grabbed it he didn’t let go. “And I will be checkin in with your coach to make sure you followed the rules.” He smiled at them. They thought he had a handsome smile.

Tank nodded and began walking out but when they reached the door they stopped and turned to look at him, a defiant look in their eyes. “See ya Later, Cowboy.” They’d said mocking his accent, and they walked away.

David was in the box, practice had just finished and he was grabbing his bag when he got a phone call. He saw the contact name and answered immediately.

“Angel, how are you? How was work?” He asked his tone immediately softer than it had been before.

“I’m good Davey. And work was good. I mean the company has got me all tied up with new victim- I mean clients, but it’s good. And how was practice? Have you talked to Tank yet?” The happier voice rang out across the line.

“Practice was practice,” he sighed, “and no. I haven’t.”

“You should.” They advised and David could hear the frown in their tone.

“I will. I will. I just need the right time. Or the opportunity at all.” David paused as he saw Tank step out onto the field and chat with Coach William. They had caught a pretty hard throw and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried.

“Davey?” They said now sounding concern.

“Yeah I’m here. It’s just hard. I mean they used to be what was effectively my only sibling figure. I don’t know how to ‘talk’ about that.” He said obviously growing frustrated at his own cowardice.

“DAVID!” Coach William called out to him, Tank had a look of panic and frustration in their eyes. David sighed.

“Coach is calling me. I’ll talk to you later Angel.”

“Bye Bye Davey, Love you~” They sung out as he hung up. He quickly walked over to the pair.

“David, Tank here can’t drive themself home. They need to rest their hand.” William stated firmly, his gaze shooting over to tank then back to David. “Can you please drive them home?”

Tank shifted their weight awkwardly. They fiddled with the straps of their bag and kept their blazing gaze locked on the floor.

“Yeah. I’ll drive em.” He spoke, their gaze met his, apparently they expected him to say no.

“Thank you.” William spoke walking off the field.

The two walked to David’s vehicle in silence, throwing their stuff in the trunk. David opened the passenger door and shut it when they got in. He jumped in the drivers seat and quickly started the truck. They pulled away and began the drive, Tank put their address in his phone so that they didn’t have to tell him directions. David tapped his steering wheel. 20 minutes until his opportunity was gone and he reached Tanks house. He took a deep breath.

“Tank. I hate small talk. You know that. So I’m just gonna be upfront. What happened?” He glanced at Tank and saw their jaw tighten.

“Nothing.” They spoke plainly.

“Nothing? You just left because of nothing?” He pushed, testing the waters.

“Yes.”

“I’m not stupid.” He glared at them.

“Fine David. You wanna know what happened I’ll tell you. My parents decided to move, I thought I was part of their moving plans. It was sudden, one day they said, ‘we’re leaving.’ I asked if I could say goodbye first and they told me they were leaving now. I didn’t have time to think. I threw a few things in a bag and hopped in the car. When we got to some stupid mall in Washington they’d told me to get out that they needed to do something and they’d come back to pick me up. I went into the mall and they never came back. I waited and waited. And they never came. That’s when Quinn showed up. He helped me out and got me back on my feet. We were both street rats.” They paused to take a long deep breath tears prickling at their eyes. “I had my phone but no where to charge it. So I worked a lot of shitty jobs to get up and out so Quinn and I could go to college. He was about three years older than me, so he needed to go before I did. Then when we’d both made it and got to the college league, we worked out asses off. I! Worked. My. Ass. Off. Quinn and I got picked to the same team back in Sunnyvale, then I found him hooking up with some whore in our shared apartment. Needless to say, I quit the team, and William picked me up. I didn’t text you. Call you. Reach out to you, because I couldn’t.” They were practically yelling at this point, a few stray tears betraying how they truly felt.

“Tank… I… We…. I’m so… so sorry.” David said gritting his teeth. Five minutes before they reached Tanks house. “I should’ve done more. I shouldn’t have just assumed. And you just let me say all those shit things to you… just because I was hurt… I should never have taken that out on you. I’m truly. Truly sorry.”

Tank shrugged, sniffling a little bit. “It’s fine. I was pissed too. I guess I saw you as my sibling or something. I guess I just… I kinda projected on you. I mean, you had a nice family and great friends… I kinda hated you for that… I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not gonna be the same. But I’d like to be there for you. To be… to be friends again.” David looked at them as he pulled into the parking lot.

“I’m down to try.” They nodded and patted his shoulder as they jumped out of the truck and grabbed their bag from the trunk. They walked back over to the door and stuck their head through the open window. “Have fun with your partner. And congrats on the wedding.” They waved him off and smiled. He returned the favor and drove back home.

When David arrived home he felt better than he had in the past two months. He walked through the door, setting his bag down and hanging up his jacket and keys. He was quickly greeted by arms wrapping around his waist.

“Hey Davey.” They looked up at him and smiled.

“Hello Angel.” He grinned at them and kissed the top of their head.

“So you spoke to them?” They we’re always able to read him like a book. They ran their arms up and down his biceps.

“Yes. I did.”

“And?”

“And I think we’re gonna be ok.” He said softly, genuinely.

“I’m glad.” They grabbed his hand leading him to the kitchen. “Wanna eat?”

“You cooked?” He looked at them suspiciously.

“Yup!” They beamed up at him. “I made the pasta you taught me how to make!!”

“Thanks Angel. I appreciate it.” He hugged them.

“Anything for my catch of a Husband. So hot and caring, and strong.” They pulled away from him, allowing him the opportunity to make a plate. “My,” they looked at him with innocent eyes, but he could see the mischievous glint behind them. “What big arms you have.” They recited their own version of little red riding hood.

“All the better….” He stepped forward to them. “To make my plate with.” He smirked as their grin faltered and he made his plate.