#I'm sending my parents The Email and coming out

[chrisbesitos]

younger reader having parent issues :( so whenever Chris snaps at her it reminds her of when she was younger and her dad yelled at her

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀emails i can't send

( warnings: family issues, argument, angst with fluff at the end.

( synopsis: y/n never had a healthy family and this still affect her.

Y/N parents wasn't the best ones. She had a great childhood, playing outside with her friends, a lot of dolls and colorful toys, but still missing something. Doesn't matter what she said or did, it never was enough for them. Never was enough for them to stop screaming, everything fucking night she could hear from her room. Y/N just cried, hugging her favorite plushie against her chest under the blankets, at least when they were screaming with each other, they didn't scream at her.

Growing up dealing with that shit wasn't easy, but she learned how to survive. Cry in silence in the middle of the night, walk around on tiptoe to not disturb her dad, she also learned who's coming by the sound of the steps. This is not living, but there's nowhere to run, nowhere to go.

Until she met Chris, her lovely boyfriend. Her parents didn't like him, they always said he'll end up cheating on her or breaking up, because she's younger than him. At first, Y/N didn't tell anything about her relationship with her parents to Chris, but he started to ask when he realized she always looks upset when they talk about their families. He and his brothers have a great and supportive family, Y/N feel a little jealousy of them.

She said what's going on in the night she asked Chris if she could spend the night, because her parents were mad at her and she couldn't deal with the screams anymore. Chris was supportive, he cleaned her tears and held her until stop crying. Y/N was nineteen, she could move out, Chris said she could stay with him. At first, she denied, because she didn't want to disturb them, but Y/N ended up accepting, at least for a while until she find a place for her.

Chris promised he'll never scream at her, but he didn't keep his promise.

"So you're gonna keep ignoring me?" Y/N said following Chris until their room, Chris wasn't answering her since they got in the car after leaving a dinner with his friends. "Can you fucking answer me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Chris groans, he turned to Y/N with his arms crossed against the chest and the eyebrows frowned.

"What do i want you to say? You're fucking ignoring me since we left, what's wrong with you?" She stamped her foot on the ground, Chris laughed sarcastically. He sat on the couch, shaking his head. "Damn, stop being so childish!"

"I'm being childish? You're the one who is stamping your feet, because I'm not doing what you want."

"What are you talking about, Chris?!" She said, passing her hands through the hair nervously.

"You don't give me five minutes, because I always have to be around you or you fucking cry about." He said, almost screaming. He groaned when she frowned her eyebrows, trying to understand. "Don't play dumb, Y/N. You can be alone for fucking five minutes, you can't act normal around people? You need to keep grabbing my hands and shit."

"I'm sorry if I don't know how to talk with your friends, they fucking older than me." Y/N crossed her arms, stepping back and hardly holding her tears. She doesn't like arguments, Chris knows this, but he's too angry to think straight.

"There we go again, you and your fucking "oh, chris, they're older than me"" He lifted up from the couch, stepping in Y/N's direction. "You're such a cry baby." He screamed in your face, then he realized he took too far.

Her eyes are filled with tears, hugging her own body. Y/N feel like she was a kid once again, small and defenceless. He took too far, he promised he'll never scream at her, because that's what her father used to do and he screamed. Chris felt so. . . So idiot.

"You think I'm a cry baby?" She asked, her voice cracked and this broke Chris' heart. He wasn't an idiot, he was an asshole. What type of boyfriend is he making his girl cry? Chris shook his head, closing his eyes fighting against his tears. He tried to reach for her hands, but she didn't let he hold them.

"I shouldn't have screamed with you, doll. I'm so sorry." He said, his voice was stuck on his throat. Y/N shook her head, more tears were falling from her pretty eyes. He felt like shit for being horrible with his girlfriend, she didn't deserve this.

She didn't deserve him.

"Do you think I'm a cry baby?" She asked again, Chris shook his head approaching her. Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down. "So why you call me this?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was so blind being selfish that I didn't think, but I don't think you are." Chris said, embracing her shoulders and moving her towards the couch. Y/N sat down and Chris kneeled down on the floor in front of her, he held her hands. "I'm really sorry, doll. I didn't mean to treat you like this. I was acting like a–"

"Asshole." She said, sniffing.

"Asshole, yes." He said, Chris kissed the back of her hands. "I don't think you're a cry baby, neither childish. I disrespect you and I see this now, you're just trying to fit in and I didn't help you, I'm sorry, doll."

"You hurt me with your words, Chris. And you know I don't like screams, you upset me." Y/N said, she use her fingers to clean the tears on Chris' cheeks. "You promised me, Chris."

"I know, doll, and I'm really sorry. I'll never do that again."

"I'm sorry if I was annoying today, I just didn't know how to fit." She said, looking at Chris with her glassy eyes. He lifted the floor and sat by her side, he pulled her to his lap and kissed her forehead.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize, not you." Chris hugged her shoulders, Y/N rested her head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. "I don't know how to fix this, I'm really sorry, Y/N."

"Don't call me Y/N, I'm your doll." Y/N lips leaned in a smile, she lifted her head and looked at Chris. "Never do that again with me, I'm not kidding." She pointed at him and Chris nodded quickly.

"Never again, doll." He smiled, Y/N hugged his neck and Chris caressed her back, giving little kisses on her hair. "I love you, babydoll. Much more than you can think."

"I love you, baby." She whispered. "Now, I know how you can fix this." She gave him a perv smile, Chris laughed caring her to the bed.

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

taglist | masterlist

[tam--lin]

.

[altruistic-meme]

............ i want to come out.

[damiemontclair]

I am doing way too much grovelling lately, but the worst part is, it is entirely my own fault for not getting to this stuff sooner and I only have myself (and my adhd I guess) to blame for the current situation....

[valkwise]

Hi! Today I want to introduce you to my husband and I's dear friend, Abdelrahman Hajjaj.

This campaign is verified by the Butterfly Effect Project. Click here, find the "Verified Campaigns" tab, and check line #947.

Abod is 34 years old, and lives in Al Maghazi camp in Gaza. He is raising money to evacuate himself, his wife Aya, his daughter Leen, his parents, and one of his brothers. Leen was born premature and needs special care. His mother has blood cancer, his father uses a colostomy bag, and his brother is diabetic. Abod is desperate to leave Gaza and build a better life for his family elsewhere.

Abod's life is extremely dangerous. Something I especially want to highlight is the condition of his house. He lives on the top floor of his building, which has no doors and is missing walls. Thin blankets are the only thing separating him and his family from the elements, and the occupation's ammunition.

His daughter Leen just turned one on September 2nd, and she's able to crawl around more every day. What should be an exciting milestone also comes with a lot of dread. Abod has built barriers around the house to try and prevent Leen from crawling where it's most dangerous, but anyone who has young children knows it can be difficult to keep them out of trouble. Parents should not have to worry about their baby falling off the edge of their house, three stories to the ground below. Yet, this is just another everyday terror for Abod and Aya.

Abod and my husband are very close. They talk for hours every single day, sharing their hopes and fears with each other. A couple of weeks ago, gfm flagged Abod's campaign for verification, something you have probably seen happen to a lot of Gazan campaigns (this often leads to them being arbitrarily shut down). My husband assisted Abod with gfm's intense verification process, and thankfully it was successful. His campaign is also finally connected to a friend's bank account so he can receive funds.

Abod's campaign has not received much attention since it was created in June, and donations have been very slow. Abod does not have much hope for his campaign's success. Please help my husband and I prove him wrong.

He has only reached €7,112 of his €30,000 goal

Please share this post, and give generously and consistently to Abod's campaign. Even small donations add up quickly, so please don't hesitate!

I'm mailing mystery prints to anyone in the US who gives at least $10 (or the euro equivalent), and if you donate any amount and send me an email, I'll send you some comic PDFs (more info here).

Thank you for reading. Here is a video of Leen and her grandfather's cat :-)

[wintertime-in-june]

A Marriage of Convenience

Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader

You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.

Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.

As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.

He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...

He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.

You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.

Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.

The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.

"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.

He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.

You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.

"What's up kleine Maus?"

'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.

"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."

You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.

You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.

"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.

"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."

You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.

König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.

"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.

"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.

"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.

"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.

König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.

He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.

"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.

König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily. "A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.

You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.

"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."

There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.

"I'll marry you."

The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.

"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.

He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.

Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...

Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.

From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.

"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.

You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?

He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.

"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."

You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.

"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.

He let out another chuckle.

"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.

"What should i call you sir?"

"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.

"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"

"Your husband."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...

[star-anise]

are we talking about broke therapists yet?

I've been out of things for a couple of years now, which is why I'm willing to talk about it, and maybe the pandemic has helped things a little, but holy shit the counselling and psychotherapy field is not equipped to help its practitioners in the gig economy.

Of all my interests and talents, I pursued a degree in psychology because being a therapist is supposed to be a safe, stable, well-paid job. Every therapist I met who was registered before 2008 worked and lived under that assumption. And oh boy are all the fee structures--registration, supervision, continuing education, conferences--set up for that scenario.

After getting my Master's, I struggled like hell to get a job. It was especially bad because to get my license, I needed a supervisor to take me on. To take me on, most supervisors wanted me to already have a caseload and client base. To get a caseload and client base, I needed a job.

Friends: Every single job I heard back on wanted me to have my license before I could even land an interview.

Professors and career advisors and professional development specialists all advised me very earnestly to just keep cold-calling people on the supervision list, and it began to feel a lot like my parents' friends telling me to hit the bricks and hand out resumes. That's what worked for them, right?

I finally got a supervisor who agreed to take me on, and I'd be able to use her clinic for advertising and workspace, and we were doing the paperwork to send in with my registration, when she called me up and said, "Is this job going to be your only source of income? If you're trying to depend on getting clients and building your practice for your basic needs, this is not going to work out. This has to be something you're doing on top of a basic salary. Okay, so you're not working anywhere else right now? I'm sorry, I can't move forward with this."

Even once I landed a supervisor and a job building my own private practice, I struggled. I have ADHD and am not great at self-promotion, so trying to do all my own advertising, scheduling, bookkeeping, billing, and records management (on top of counselling) was an enormous strain. One my bosses, supervisors, and other senior professionals watched with a slightly critical eye, but consoled me about because in their early days, their clinics had had business managers, receptionists, filing clerks, and accountants, and getting used to doing everything online yourself was a bit of a learning curve, wasn't it?

I counted my pennies very carefully, because I had to pay my supervisor roughly $180 for their services every 6 hours of in-person counselling I did. This meant that to break even I had to charge my clients an average of about $30 (plus room rental and service fees) an hour--and my clients, being people with complex trauma, were frequently poor, disabled, unemployed, and had no health benefits, so even $10 or $20 a session was a lot for them.

Maybe it would have been easier if I could have taken some of those nice comfortable organization positions where they find clients and funding for you and you work 40 hours a week and get benefits and a pension, but I had to be disabled into the bargain, so working 40 hours a week just isn't possible for me. I start passing out from stress and exhaustion. Older colleagues gave me serious-faced advice about approaching my employer and asking them for some flexibility and accommodation in my schedule, and I tried to explain across the gap between us that employers simply did not hire me if I made the slightest noise about the workload. They weren't going to invest in me as a person; they were hiring 40 units of work a week, and if I wouldn't do it there were a dozen applicants after me who would.

At one point I broke down enough to email my licensing body because the Annual General Meeting/Professional Development Conference was coming up, and I wanted to attend, but I could not produce $500 to do it with. Was there some kind of way I could attend anyway? I felt ashamed to have to ask, and then absolutely mortified when the response came from the organization president, who needed to personally sign off on me being too poor to attend the single most important event in my profession's calendar year.

I honestly felt so ashamed all the time at how I was apparently failing to be a successful therapist, failing to be rich and successful, and every time I mentioned it around mentors and bosses, I could feel myself shrinking from a person to a problem to be solved. My closest therapist-friends and I have reflected on how much more difficult, poorly-paid and underworked, our various career starts have been than we were ever warned about. About the classmates and coworkers who couldn't get disability exceptions when they fell behind in their registration requirements, or burned out and left the field, or dropped their registrations and took up as life coaches, or moved their whole family somewhere exceptionally remote or rural because it was the only good job available, or worked for some godforsaken app skirting the bounds of malpractice like BetterHelp.

I like those conversations, because I feel less like an absolute fuck-up in them. There's less "Hey Lis, you were so talented in grad school, I really admired you, what are you doing now?" "Oh, I, uh... am professionally disabled, so I get government benefits, and I... sell embroidery patterns on Etsy now."

My own therapist kept asking if and when I felt like going back to being a counsellor, and I finally told him: I don't, actually. I don't want to go back and do it like I was doing it before. It was a profession I loved to the depths of my soul, and it profoundly did not love me back. I can't even imagine what would have to change, in me or it, to make it have a space in it that could fit me.

All of which I was way too scared to admit to at the time, because the more I let people know I was struggling, the more they hinted that maybe I just wasn't in a place in my life where this was a job I could do, and I needed to take a little break and wait to come back until money and disability just weren't issues for me anymore.

Eventually my cups of doubt and exhaustion did overflow, and I quit. I'm here now, living a much different life. And at the very least, all my years of helping people in bad life situations set me up perfectly for my own. I already knew what form to fill out for financial assistance, which student clinics to access for mental health support, and which government agency would, if pressed, cough out pharmacy coverage for the genuinely destitute. It gave me that much.

I hope this is just me being in extraordinary circumstances, sitting at the intersections of a few different shitty life situations that most people skip right past. Because it's on one level comforting, but another deeply infuriating, if I'm not, and I've just missed it or we've just all been too afraid to admit it to each other.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

[forthelostones]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #5

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. yall! life has been crazy. your girl is finally back. I'm so sorry I love you all for loving me. lets geeettt etttt. x (this chapter is loosely proofread)

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. change your mind by moonchild ♫

I kick the duvet off my bed onto the floor, leaving my skin frozen as the blue sky begins to make an appearance like an oil painting on my bedroom walls. My throat is dry and my muscles are tight. I cried before I went to bed but this time it wasn’t over the business, it was about me. When was the last time I cried about me? A deep yawn allowed a stretch to be released from my stiff body. I don’t remember falling asleep here but my back thanked me for it. What happened yesterday? In-house client consultations weren't unpopular just not as common as they used to be. Most days, folks want a Pinterest-made bathroom cutting out the middle price of my creativity. Like I say, who am I to complain?

My phone was crowded with email notifications of applicants. I was one step closer to taking a huge load off my shoulders and that felt good. So good, that I brewed a pot of coffee because I had the time. I reached under the kitchen sink and among the disorganized cleaning products a Mr. Coffee Pot was birthed. I had switched to a fancy automatic dispenser but there’s nothing like a cheap hot drip. I perch my lips on the edge of my mug before opening my mouth. Across the yard, through the window is my neighbor Nora, the lemon lady, as I call her. Just about this time of the year, she would leave a small brown crate of lemons on my front porch. Our conversations were short and awkward but she was a pretty lady to look at. She was heading to work in a blue dress that suctioned her body and extenuated the light brown fro flourishing on her scalp. I wonder how she's doing, my wonder would never be strong enough to open the door and ask that.

Hair and teeth were brushed promptly before opening my laptop and scheduling interviews. The most recent application was from the woman who stood in my house just last night. My first instinct was to pick up my phone and send a photograph with a witty sentence accompanying it. However, I refrained and stared at the email. I could hear her voice describe the elements of her resume. It was a sweet delusion and ghostly experience to recall her rasp but it eased some tension to know I could possibly have her around more.

I didn’t know what to do with the time I had magically acquired this morning. The possibilities seemed vast and the anxiety I felt from the thought of breaking my routine made me just sit in silence. A silence that was paired with fantastical grandeur from a childish part of my brain. Daydreaming about her was a great way to begin my morning.

Over to the loudest street on the west side with two clients already secured, I felt accomplished with the direction both projects were going. A turn down the road revealed a paramedic hauling away a gurney. Without worrying about the parking situation I pull the keys out of the ignition and jog over to the scene. All my men were crowding around the truck and I pushed through them to see pale bone breaking through the flesh of my roofer. I winced at the sight and looked up quickly to meet the eyes of the victim. 

“Boss,” He chuckled in a stupefied state. “ I fell down.” 

We all shared a moment of happiness that the injury didn’t result in any other damage. I took pride in knowing workers comp was going to take care of him for the healing. If it ever did. My back pocket floods with vibrations and I finally interrupt them. 

6:55 am: paramedics? what’s happening abby? 

7:04 am: hello? are you okay?

7:05 am: I don’t see you. where are you? 

As I begin to type and move out of the road to allow the paramedics to leave then I see her, standing on the sidewalk with her house shoes on and draped in a short robe. I could see a bit of relief on her face as I approached her. The closer I got the more nervous I felt but she didn’t have to know that. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry.” She brings her hand to her forehead. 

“So, you were worried?” I poke. 

She chuckles lightly, “My mom made me come outside and check.” 

“Oh right.” I laughed to hide my embarrassment. 

“Well, I’m going back to bed.” She mentioned but her feet didn’t move. 

“Long night?” 

“Longest. It should be illegal to get into arguments after 10 p.m.” 

Her girlfriend was stressing her out again and now that I looked closer, her under eyes were puffy and darkened. She kept her up all night, hopefully not arguing about something concerning me. 

“I agree, that’s a good rule.” 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” 

I nod and turn back towards my truck, wishing we were going in the same direction instead of the opposite one. 

Well into the afternoon I saw her glint in her front yard tending to the blossoming flowers. The old, form-fitting grey sweatpants were dirtied on the knees with brown and green alike. I was leaning against the truck and secretly watched her clean her forehead with her matching shirt, darkened by sweat. I couldn’t stop thinking about how to approach her about the application. Once she had enough digging done she sat in the grass on her behind, leaning on her hands, with her head tossed back. 

I mustered the courage to step away from the car and got a clear view of the most toned parts of her body. My mouth became dry and I had to find the moisture again by lolling my tongue over my lips. She lifted her hand to wave slightly and then to hide her eyes from the sun, even though I am sure she knew it was me. My shadow covered her with a temporary coolness under the fiery sun to which she audibly sighed. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” I smile. 

She opens her big eyes and follows my belt buckle up to my face. She looks glorious in that position, dominant yet completely able to be persuaded. The curves on her body were muscle as much as they were fat. A glorious mixture that made me crave her more — especially when I’m not supposed to. 

“Ms. Anderson,” She giggled playfully. 

“I saw your application, post-graduate life got you desperate?” 

I wasn’t much of a tease toward women I liked, but in the moment it felt good to watch her face contort in a false sense of temporary anger.

“Don’t think I’d be a good employee?” 

I shrug at her comment but inside the vision of her in business casual clothing, debriefing clients, and leading weekly meetings painted my cheeks red. A woman in charge of me was something I didn’t often relish enough. The facade I give off is the opposite of what’s expected but if she gains my trust… Suddenly, she stood up with her hands clasped around her hips breaking my lewd thoughts. The tips of her fingers slightly perched under the fabric of her loose top. 

“I’m not sure,” I grin. “Isn't that what the interview determines?” 

She rubs her glove up the side of her forearm, leaving traces of soil on her skin. The sunshine reflecting from her body is nearly blinding. I fought off the urge to clean away those imperfections on her.

“Does this mean I have an interview?” She perked up on her heels in excitement. 

The motion triggered a reflex to wrap my hands around her hips and pull her inward as I bent her backward for a passionate kiss. I unknowingly took a step forward as the screeching of a '98 Cadillac Seville pulled quickly into the driveway to separate us. The car hummed and scrapped against the pavement causing me to wince. It was her girlfriend, Ellie. I should move. I should lift my feet and walk back down the street and drill a nail into some wood, but I don’t. 

Ellie slams the door to her car with her greasy hair tucked behind both ears and a slouch on her spine. Her eyes avoid my face and I’m glad that they do. 

“Woah, you’re all dirty,” Ellie smirks. 

“Gardening.” Her one word answer even stings me. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, hm?” Ellie’s hand gently clasps her elbow but she pulls away. 

“After I’m done talking to Abby. Why don’t you go up to my room and wait for me?” She asks, sweetly. 

I felt a bulge of confidence wave through my body knowing Ellie was going to listen because of my presence. She cuts her eyes towards me briefly before walking up the driveway to disappear into the house. 

“You okay?” I ask. 

“We’ve been arguing more and more since I moved back home. She’s so sensitive,” Her face crinkles in distress. 

A genuine, heavy pool of laughter escapes my throat. The way she contorted her face to say sensitive showed her disgust of Ellie which I was overly pleased to know. I cover my mouth slightly until she grins too. 

“I shouldn’t even be telling you this.” She adds. 

“It’s fine. I’ve been in your position before.”

“And what happened?” 

I inhale. “We broke up and it was messy.” 

An oh slips her lips filling the silence between us. I pulled my mind from the clouds to stop its wandering tick of floating into the past. I’ve had many girlfriends but my final relationship, five years ago, was the most mentally taxing years of my life. ‘We broke up and it was messy’ was a simple reduction to a very complex situation. 

“I’m sorry to hear that Ms. Anderson.” Her fingertips rise gently to my arm. The glint in her eyes showed a sincerity that I had never seen before. Most people say sorry to things as a formality but she actually meant it. 

“You’re young, these things happen, you have time.” 

“I hope so.” She mutters as she removes her gloves and tosses them angrily into the grass. 

“All right, sweetheart, if you need me you know where to find me.” 

She mouthed a humble thank you and followed behind her girlfriend. 

The team was disoriented, tired, and lazy upon returning from their first break. Losing my finest roofer was going to cost me time and money. With such short notice, it wouldn’t be particularly difficult to find someone willing to fill in. Men in this industry are always hopping from job to job but I want someone reliable and will stay.

I chuckle in disbelief of what I’m about to do. Contact Ellie, to be my new roofer. 

12:00 p.m. Bad timing to ask you something?

She walked towards my truck as I forced a chip into my mouth. I brush the crumbs off my chest and check my face in the rearview as she boldly pulls the handle to sit in the passenger's seat. She avoided eye contact with me and slammed my door with an angry force.

“Hello,” I say, chewing off the last bit of my food. 

“Was your text a joke?” She snaps, her voice holding a begrudging tremble.

“A joke? No, I would never, not at all I was—” My words were tumbling over each other breaking my cool facade. She did not seem phased by my current display. 

“You want Ellie to work for you.” 

The statement was supposed to come out more like a question but there was no rise in tone at the end of her sentence. 

“I don’t have time to hire someone and test them out. You said she was good, right?” 

“She’s one of the best.” She groaned. 

“Well, to be honest, I’m desperate.” I sigh a little more pathetic than I want. 

She turns her head towards me and melts into the cushions. Her legs widen to touch the door with her kneecap. She twisted her head upwards to admire the black upholstery on the ceiling, exposing her kissable neck. I feel a zing of warmth travel from my cheeks to my thighs and I twitch at the unfamiliar feeling. One that I haven’t felt in ages. I run a lingering thumb against the seam of my pants and relish the sensation I feel through them. She turns and looks at me, leaving me frozen. Those eyes were dark with a desire that awakened a sleeping part of me. 

Why did my body suddenly feel like a flowering opening upon first bloom? I was no teenager discovering the female body for the first time but why did it feel like that?

“Fine. I’ll tell Ellie to call you.” Absentmindedly she tugs her lip into her mouth and I cross my ankles because crossing my legs would be too obvious. 

“I owe you.” My voice sounds strained as I exhale into the air. 

In her bedroom, I had my tape measure in hand with a small notebook and golf pencil. The boxes in the room had been cleared since the last time I was here. I had to redo the farthest bathroom wall three times as a tender need pressed against my zipper. The pressure of the metal alone was making my legs wobble. When was the last time I was truly aroused? Her perfume coaxed the walls in the same sickeningly sweet warm musk that followed behind her. My concentration was drained.

"Ms. Anderson?" She asked lightly in the door frame.

I swivel my head like a cartoon character, not particularly shocked by her presence but at my lack of bodily control. "Hey."

"Just wondering how you're doing?" She asked.

Her gardening top had become soaked around the collar and the cuff under her arms. Those sleeves were now folded inward displaying a vast spread of skin. I was going to be thinking about this interaction all day.

"Done." I lie.

"Good, I'm overdue for a shower," She giggled as she walked into the room in what I saw as slow-mo. "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks again. I seriously owe you." I repeat.

"I know," she smiles, starting to lift the hem of her shirt up. "Just make sure I have an interview next week and we're good."

The last thing I saw before leaving the room was a rousing glare, over her right shoulder, in my direction.

DONATIONS FOR DR CONGO

[wosoamazing]

The Call Up

Summary: Leah's sister chooses a different national team and she isn't happy

Warnings: IDK, angry Leah??, if there is more let me know and I will add them.

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first fic, I'm thinking of turning this into a series I guess, kind of following Leah's sister and also Leah. I'm open to any feedback and also please send in any requests. I hope you like it. Also thank you to @girlgenius1111 for giving me the confidence to post this.

You and your sister were sitting in your living room, surrounded by your team-mates, having a mini team bonding day, it was mostly filled with phones ringing and “I’m in”s. Today was call up day for the senior international break that was coming up, everyone in the room had gotten a call except you, but you weren’t expecting a call, at 16 you were lucky to be in the Arsenal Women’s team, a senior call up was not something you expect. So, when the activities of the room were interrupted by a phone ringing everyone was confused no one else was let to get a call. Their eyes all darted the room checking they hadn’t forgotten someone before they all landed on you.

You sat there holding you buzzing phone, “I guess I better take this”, you stood up and walked out of the now silent room swiping to accept the call.

“Hello, this is Y/F/N Williamson speaking” you answered, every time you answered the phone differently you received a lecture from your sister, so answering the phone this way was now habit.

“Hello Y/N, it’s Tony Gustavsson, the Matilda’s head coach,”

“Yeah, I know,” you heard him chuckle, shit you said that out loud “Sorry, I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said that”.

You were sure this was a call up, it wasn’t necessarily the call up you expected but secretly it was the call up you always wished for.

“No, no it’s all good. I’m just calling to ask if you would like to join me and my staff and the Matilda’s on international break, you are really quite talented, and we think you could bring a lot to the team.”

“Oh my God, yes, yes, yes, I would love too! Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad, you’ll get an email soon with all the details you’ll need, I look forward to seeing you”.

“Thank you, bye”.

“Bye” he said as he hung up.

It was an unexpected call up but a warmly welcomed called up. You had lived in your sister’s shadow for years; yeah sure you were 16 and in the Arsenal Women’s team but you couldn’t help feel that your sister had something to do with it. Everything you ever did was because of her, your parents put you in football because she played it. You were an avid Arsenal support because that was her team. You always knew one day you would have to choose a national team, but you didn’t expect it so had never actually talked to anyone about it. You had spent your whole life living in England however you were born in Australia which meant you were a dual citizen and could play for either team. You had just chosen which team would be your national team forever without even a second thought.

You were in shock as you walked back into the room that held all the girls, you were on cloud nine, but soon you would fall from that cloud.

“What’s wrong” Leah asked.

“I got a call up”.

“What but under 18s call ups aren’t until next week” you were always called up to the under 18 Lionesses even though you were still eligible to play in their under 16s, so it was fair for her to assume the call up was for that team. There was a silence as you slowly nodded, a small grin appeared on her face growing larger by the millisecond until she screeched “You’re coming on international break with us!”

“Um… Well not exactly” She lost her grin immediately. Was this the right choice?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going on international break with you, but I am going on international break with a senior team” you replied as you looked around the room everyone’s faces were plastered with absolute confusion, expect for one, Steph Catley, in this moment she held a small barely noticeable smirk on her face, she seemed to know something the rest of them didn’t.

“Well-“, you continued however you were cut off by your phone ringing, “Sorry I should take this” you say as you walk away, you knew who this was, you had remember this number off by heart.

“Hello, it’s Y/F/N Williamson speaking” you answered.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Sarina Wiegman, I was wondering if you would like to join me and the team for international break, my staff and I have been watching you and your quite the powerhouse.”

“Um, I’m really sorry Sarina, thank you so much for the offer but I’m going to have to turn it down”.

“Oh okay-“, she was cut off as you hung up on her. You stood there for a minute soaking it all in before starting to walk back in.

“So?” your sister questioned, you were about to speak but your sisters phone rang “Sorry its Sarina,” you wished you could just disappear, that second, you knew exactly what Sarina was going to say to her, Leah had already received her call up and it was no coincidence that Sarina was calling her just after you hung up on her.

“Hi Sarina, how are-” it seemed she was cut off, “Okay. Oh. Yep. Thank you. Will do, bye” and just like that the call was over.

“Um why did Sarina just call me to say you turned now her offer for you to join us on international break, and worse hang up and not listen to her fish?” The girls’ jaws dropped simultaneously in disbelief, expect for Steph whose smirk had grown larger.

“Because I’m already going on international break like I said” you reply.

“But with who?”

“I think you’re all forgetting something” Steph chimed in. Leah flashed her a glance, Steph’s grin caused Leah’s confused, annoyed and shocked mix of a face to turn into one of almost disappointment and anger.

“What.” you nod, she had realised and there was no turning back now “No.” You smirk “You didn’t. How could you. You know what I don’t even care anymore,” and with that your sister stormed out of living room down to her bedroom and slammed the door, but it opened again “If I was you I would find a place to stay for tonight, and maybe ever,” the door slammed again.

A tear rolled down your check and you let out a shaky breath. “Hey, come here it’s alright,” Steph said softly, holding her arms out gesturing to you. You climbed onto her lap and she embraced you in a tight warm hug.

“Wait, but can someone catch me up, I’m still so confused” Beth piped out, causing some of the girls to giggle.

“Do you want to tell them, or do you want me to?” Steph whispered to you.

“I will.”

You shuffled in Steph’s lap so that you were facing the girls. “I um… well, the first phone call I got was from Tony.” you took a deep breath, Steph gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze “Tony Gustavsson. He, um, he asked me if I wanted to join him and the Matilda’s for their international break, and um, well I-I said that I would love to….”

“Wait, but how are you eligible?” Beth asked, if she’d forgotten they must have all forgotten.

“I was born in Australia, Dad was posted at one of their army training bases by the UK military, because of some agreement between Australia and the UK in terms of training or something. Leah was about 10. Mum fell pregnant with Jacob and I and we were born there, but we moved back here, to England, when I was about one and have lived here ever since. But it does mean I’m a dual citizen meaning I was eligible for both teams”. Jacob was your annoying twin brother that’s all there is to say about him.

“Wait but is Leah?” “That is so cool” “Congratulations” “Don’t worry about Leah she will get over herself.” the girls all spoke at once.

“No Leah isn’t but Dad, Jacob and I are”, they all came over and gave me a big hug.

“We might just go check on Leah if that is okay” Beth, Kim, Viv, Katie, and Lia said. I nodded at them, and they turned around to go find Leah.

“We’re going to head off, if we want Amanda to be packed in time to go to camp, we better get her home now” Stina said “Hey,” Amanda replied as she was offended. Majority of the team followed them out, Caitlin showing them out before locking the door and coming back to join Kyra, you and Steph, positioning herself in the middle of where you and Steph were placed on the couch and where Kyra was sitting on the floor, by sitting down on the end of the couch.

Kyra still held the huge grin on her face that had appeared earlier when you said Tony called you. Her cheesy grin going ear to ear and knowing what she was thinking about made you giggle slightly. At this Steph and Caitlin looked over to her, when Caitlin playfully hit her. “Hey! What was that for?” she said like a child.

“You’re not going to be allowed to cause mischief in Aus, Sam won’t let that fly, you know that”, Kyra dramatically pouted with an “Oh” which caused you to giggle again and the older two to chuckle.

“You excited bug?” “Do you want us to help you pack?” “It’s going to be so cool having you on the team” they all stated. Another tear rolled down your check at these words, however this time it wasn’t a lone tear, it was followed by another and another until suddenly you were sobbing. “Hey, hey, hey,” Steph calmly said as she turned you back around to face her and wrapped you in a nice warm tight hug, in efforts to calm you down. Caitlin scooted closer to you and Steph and started to rub your back. Once you had calmed down slightly Steph let go of you and wiped the tears from your face whilst also slightly lifting your head, so you looked at her.

“What’s up?” She questioned.

“I-I,” you stuttered as another tear rolled down your face, which you wiped away with your hand, you went to put you hand back towards your chest in efforts to keep the tight ball your body had formed, but it was intercepted as someone else took it in their hand. You looked up and it was Kyra, she must’ve moved to sit next to you guys when you were crying. Kyra gave you a warm smile to which you returned before you turn your head to face Steph again. “W-What, if, this isn’t,” another shaky breath left your body before you could continue “What if this isn’t the right decision, maybe I just decided this in spite of Leah and not for me.” You spit out, the tears start fall faster again.

“Oh baby, it’s okay to be unsure, but I know that you know this is the right decision. I remember you telling me you wanted to be on my team on your second day at Arsenal, I replied to you ‘well that dream came true’, to which you looked at me like I had three heads and said ‘No, I want to be a Matilda’.” All four of you giggle before Steph continued “I think that was one of the first, actually no it was the first thing you said to me, and you were so admit and sure about it, it was what you wanted to do, and it still is, and maybe part of you wants to do it to go against Leah and prove to yourself and to Leah and maybe even your family, that you aren’t Leah’s Mini Me, that you are, you, and not her shadow but even doing it for that reason doesn’t mean you’re not doing it for you” you hum in reply, as you soaked in everything Steph had said and thought about it.

“Does Leah hate me now?” you ask thinking back to her initial reaction.

“No, no she doesn’t” Caitlin spoke this time.

“She might,” Kyra added food for thought, “Oi Kyra don’t,” Steph told Kyra off “No she doesn’t hate you, she just overreacted that’s all, and I think she felt a bit caught off guard, after all no one else knew you were thinking about choosing the Matilda’s over the Lionesses.” Content with her answer you nodded, leaning back in for a hug, that’s how you four remained for the next few minutes, you in Steph’s lap, her hugging you, Caitlin’s hand still on your back and your hand holding Kyra’s. That was until you were interrupted.

Soft footsteps were followed by Beth’s voice “See I told you she was, and she would be fine” you could even hear Beth’s ‘I’m right’ smirk in her voice.

You lifted your head and turned it around to see you sister standing there surrounded by your older teammates, her tearstained, red slightly puffy face matched yours. As she walked towards you, Caitlin’s hand left you back. Letting go of Kyra’s hand you glanced at Steph who nodded before you once again found yourself shuffling in her lap, this time turning around to face your sister. She bobbed down in front of you taking both your hands in hers.

“Bug, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have behaved like that.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled as she glanced up at Steph who gave her a reassuring smile and said, “It’s okay, she’s okay, we will look after her”, you watched your sister sit down on the couch and gesture for you to come over to her, with that you left Steph’s lap and climbed onto your sister’s lap.

Steph, Caitlin and Kyra communicated silently before standing up and following the others into the kitchen leaving you and your sister alone in the living room. You could hear that the others were speaking but you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you just continue to sit in your sister’s lap enjoying her warm embrace for a moment before looking up to her, and saying “I love you.”

“I love you too bug, so so so much” she said as a tear rolled down her check, “and I’m really sorry for the way I reacted, I-I, I just didn’t really expect it and was caught off guard slightly, but the girls helped me realised I never actually heard you say you wanted to join the Lionesses, we never spoke about it, it was just something that I assumed, something I thought was a given, but it was never a given, you were always eligible for two national teams, and it does make sense as to why you choose them. But I shouldn’t reacted that way and I really regret saying the things I said.”

“It’s okay” you said as you smiled at her.

“But bug it really isn’t, and I am very very sorry.” you nodded burying your head in her chest.

“Bug,” you looked up at her whilst rolling your eyes, how many times does she have to say bug in one moment. Bug was her nickname for you (there is a long story behind how it came about) and whilst you didn’t mind it she was the only one allowed to use it generally, you didn’t mind if the other girls used it when you were upset, or sick but in general it was prohibited, however maybe she needed to be prohibited from using it too. She chucked at your reaction before continuing “I am really proud of you, you know that. Getting a senior call up at 16, to a different team than your youth national team, that really is something bug, and I’ve never said it, but you really are amazing you know that, you are so talented and driven-”

“That’s a lie” she was cut off by Katie, to your surprise the rest of the girls were now standing in the living room, you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t realise they were there, and by her slight jump neither did your sister. They handed you and your sister some water before sitting down around you two. You looked at Katie, who realised what you were ‘saying’ and continued “Well the never said it part is wrong, the amazing talented part is just straight facts,” you smiled at Katie, “but honestly, I don’t think a training goes by where she doesn’t say something along the lines of you being amazing.”

“Yeah honestly, it’s always like ‘did you see that?’” Viv spoke up before the rest joined in mocking your sister.

“Oh my God, she really is good isn’t she”.

“She might be better than you”.

“That was amazing”.

“I don’t think I was that good at her age, well maybe I was but you weren’t”.

You laughed at your sister’s expense. “But she is not wrong,” your captain Kim said before the room fell to silence, your head lay on your sister’s chest.

“Well, we best get going” Lia states, the others responded with many yeahs before getting up. “No stay,” you quickly spat out whilst they were all gathering their things to leave, you looked up to your sister, who after today’s events melted at your pleading little face, she looked up at the girls who were all looking at her awaiting a response.

“Guys, I mean you’re welcome to stay if you want, we are more than happy for you to stay, but if you have anything important on you don’t have to stay” she sighed.

“What else would we have on?” Kim questioned as they all sat down, someone turned on the TV causing some of them to have a heated argument over what to watch, you would normally be the ringleader in these arguments however today you just wanted to stay in your sister’s comfort, feeling slightly tired. You felt the slight dip in the couch, as someone sat down next to Leah, if anything slightly oddly close, but a familiar sent met your nose and you knew who it was and so you were content, the scent belonged to a person who had be coming over to your house more often recently, you didn’t mind her presence though, she made your sister happy and she could actually cook.

_________________

The sudden knock at the door woke you from your nap, you rubbed your eyes as the girls all looked at you some of them cooing. You heard another knock at the door followed by your sister’s “Oh Shit”.

“What?” one of the girls questioned.

“It’s our parents and the evil twin” you said not bothering to move from you position on your sister, however your position was different to the one you were in before your nap, she must’ve gotten up at some stage.

“I forgot they were coming over,” she said whilst trying to get up, her movement was only to be met with your grumbles. Lia went over and let you parents in. Once they stood in the living room you decided to get up and go greet them.

All the girls said hello to them too before Kim said, “Well we best head off, we will leave you to your family night.”

Your Mum gave Kim a tap on the arm before saying, “no nonsense you girls are welcome to stay, you’re family after all, just in a different way. And plus, Leah clearly forgot we were coming”.

“Oh okay, thank you. We’ve just had a bit of a tough day, most likely why Leah forgot.” Kim stated trying to help Leah’s case.

“Yes, I gathered that, anyone mind getting me up to date” Mum replied.

“I got a senior team call up!” you said excitedly.

“That’s fantastic!” “Well done sweetheart” your parents reply “Well, it’s official I’m the failure of the family” your twin brother joked.

“I’m going to be a Matilda” you said slightly more cautiously, there was a moment of silence, and you were unable to read your parents faces.

“Well, I did always like the Aussies” Your Dad remarked.

“That’s amazing sweetheart” they both pulled you in for a hug whilst looking around the room still a little confused, having a senior team call up wouldn’t be the reason their youngest daughter was fast asleep on their eldest’s lap when they got not, nor does it explain Leah’s guilty face, it wasn’t a I’m sorry I forgot guilty face, it was something else.

“Why don’t I take you to the kitchen, so you can grab a glass of water,” Kim said as they followed her in, whilst they knew where the kitchen was, they knew there was an implied meaning to what Kim had said, and apparently Jacob did too, “Wait for me, I want in on the tea” Jacob yelled running after them.

Jacob came running back in, your parents and Kim following shortly after. “High five” Jacob yelled as you high fived him. “What was that for?” You asked.

“For pissing of Patsy over there” you chuckled at his reply. He insisted on calling you sister Patsy.

“Well, I’m thinking Pizza and maybe a beer in celebration, anyone else?” You Dad asked, everyone in the room cheered.

The rest of the night was spent eating, drinking (one beers each as you all had training tomorrow), watching TV and just chilling. You soaked it all up, the moment, the feeling, the love, as your family, both blood and chosen, celebrated in your honour.

[queerstake]

Good morning, Queerstake! Thank you to everyone joining us for our community fast and letter writing campaign in response to the 2024 Church Handbook update with regards to transgender people. The policy update has shaken all of us. It is exclusionary and degrading. But we will find strength in each other as a community and courage in our efforts to effect change in this church that belongs not only to the General Authorities who authorized this policy update but also to all of us. Change in the Church happens from the ground up. Harmful policies have been issued and redacted before in our own lifetimes! We deserve to be treated with respect.

Today, we will fast together as a community that the Lord softens the hearts of the First Presidency. We will also write and send letters expressing our grief. Please don’t be quiet about your feelings today. Share your heartbreak with as many of your fellow ward and Queerstake members as you feel comfortable doing. Please post your feelings as well so we can inspire and uplift each other as we write our letters. It’s important that our grievances are heard.

Please send physical letters to:

The Office of the First Presidency

47 East South Temple Street

Salt Lake City, UT 84150

If you are unable to send a paper letter to Salt Lake, because I was not able to find an appropriate email, please instead email your letters to me at QUEERSTAKEONTUMBLR@GMAIL.COM. I’ll print and mail them myself.

Edit: @nerdygaymormon found an email address! Please feel free to send email to lgbt@churchofjesuschrist.org. However, you are still more than welcome to send them to me to print. In fact, why not do both!

A quick word of caution: Of course, no one can guarantee the type of responses we might receive for these letters. In fact, I urge you to consider using a pseudonym in order to avoid potential church discipline. Please take care to note what legal name or return address might be associated with your membership records. I don’t want to scare anyone, especially because we’re doing nothing wrong, but it’s always good to be very aware of what might make it back to your bishop.

Thank you again to everyone for joining. I’ve always felt so supported and uplifted by Queerstake. I know that our Heavenly Parents love us just as we are and that they don’t want us excluded and humiliated in our wards. We have unique and valuable testimonies to share. We don’t go unheard by our Heavenly Parents.

I’ve included a few sample letters and templates below the cut for people who might need a shortcut for one reason or another. You are welcome to send them verbatim or modify them.

#1

Dear First Presidency,

I'm writing to express my grief and concern over the 2024 handbook policy update on transgender people.

I believe that Christ invites all to come unto him and that as Christ's church, we have a responsibility to embrace people from all walks of life. No other demographic within the church is being treated with such severity as our transgender siblings under this new policy. I fear our transgender siblings in Christ will feel excluded and degraded, and we will lose many great members.

I believe it's of the utmost importance that we express Christlike love and charity even to people we don't understand. There is no excuse for asking transgender youth to leave activities with their peers as though they are a danger. There is no excuse for not allowing transgender people to work with children or humiliating them in our bathrooms. This is a demographic of people who have suffered in our society and Christ would want us to reach out to them with open arms. I humbly and respectfully ask that you reconsider these policy changes with regards to the doctrine of unconditional love that the church espouses. I beg you to consider the church experience of our transgender siblings in Christ and to prioritize their feelings over the feelings of people that wish to hurt them.

Thank you for your time.

#2

Dear First Presidency,

I feel deeply grieved by the Handbook update on transgender people. As a transgender member myself, I am doing everything I can to remain in the church and exclusionary policies like these make me feel deeply unwanted and deeply unloved.

I understand very well the church's position on gender, but I hope that despite that position that I might still be able to feel Christ's love at church. Our Heavenly Parents put me on this or Earth as a transgender person. I am not a danger to children and I am not a predator in bathrooms. I am your sibling in Christ. I want to serve in church. I want to serve in teaching positions. I want to serve the youth. I believe that we attend church with the purpose of uplifting each other and studying our religion together as a ward family. I want to be edified and I want to edify.

President Hinckley said every member needs a calling, a friend, and the word of God, and if I'm treated this way at church, I'm not receiving any of those things. If I can't have a real role to play within my ward, then I have no responsibility. If I am treated as an outsider and an enemy and a predator by policy and by my fellow church members, then I don't have a friend. If I can't also receive Christ's gospel through the love of the people around me, then I'm not receiving the real word of the Lord.

I seriously urge you to reconsider this policy update. I beg you on behalf of myself and my transgender siblings in the church to not hate us and to not exclude us.

Thank you for your time.

#3

Dear First Presidency,

I felt ______ when I heard about the new policy update to the handbook about transgender individuals. I believe we should treat our transgender members with the love and respect they deserve as our siblings in Christ.

I urge you to reconsider this policy update because ______

Thank you for your time.

#4

Dear Leadership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints,

I'm writing to express my grief and concern over the 2024 handbook policy update on transgender people, which I have been made aware of due to the negative impact it is having on my [friend(s)/family/loved ones].

The reputation of love, kindness, and family values that your church fosters with its programs, teachings, and community outreach is undermined by your continued exclusion of LGBT+ members and specifically with this policy change of your transgender members.

My [friend(s)/family/loved ones] have expressed _____ in regards to the August 19, 2024 changes to the handbook that relegate transgender members of your church to second-class citizens within the organization, and deny them the full capacity of worship and belonging within your church; all because of something so insignificant to their capacity to worship and belong to a community as their gender being different than the gender that they were assigned at birth. This decision _____ me/ negatively impacts my view of your church.

Thank you for your time.

I believe that there is no excuse for asking transgender youth to leave activities with their peers as though they are a danger. There is no excuse for not allowing transgender people to work with children or humiliating them in your bathrooms. This is a demographic of people who have suffered in our society and I believe that every person needs to reach out to them with open arms. I respectfully ask that you reconsider these policy changes with regards to the doctrine of unconditional love that the church espouses. I beg you to consider the church experience of your transgender members and to prioritize their feelings over the feelings of people that wish to hurt them.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 2

Part 1 / AO3 Link

@babydollbaron I need you to know your tags basically changed the trajectory of this fic

In the mornings, Steve dropped Shawn off at the before care offered by the school and then went to work. Afterwards, Shawn took the school bus home and went over to a neighbor's house, Miss Robin, until his dad got home from work.

Because of this, Steve knew he would hardly have a reason to see Eddie outside school functions and conferences. Which was fine. It was totally fine. He absolutely was not spending nights thinking about those curls under his fingers. Whenever Shawn had a story from school to tell, he hung on every word. And it was only because these were the formative years of Shawn's life.

"Oh yeah, Mr. Munson asked about our practice and I got to tell him all about it", Shawn said.

Steve paused in his current task, which was the dishes while Shawn did his homework at the kitchen table. He knew exactly what his son was talking about.

"Oh? How'd that come up?"

"I told him about it before but I didn't get to tell him about it before Yasmin started crying. He asked me and I told him."

Steve currently taught middle school, but he'd had a little experience with the younger ones. When it got close to Shawn starting school, he did his best to make sure he was prepared. And to make things a little easier on whoever was teaching him. Steve tried to be subtle with his next words.

"Tell me more about Mr. Munson."

And then the floodgates opened. Mostly because it seemed Mr. Munson was very open about his personal life. Apparently, anytime the students had a question, he answered it. Just in this five minutes between drying the dishes and plating up dinner, Steve learned that Mr. Munson played guitar, loved the color red, played a game about dragons, and was single.

"Wait, how do you know he's not married?", Steve asked.

"Because Briana asked him and he said he's not married", Shawn answered easily.

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

Steve tried not to think too hard about it. Mr. Munson being single didn't change anything. Not a single thing. But a really hot alpha who was unattached and also happened to be really good with kids who his kid loved was kind of the ultimate wet dream.

For Halloween, the students were allowed to come in costume and before the day was over, Steve's email was blessed with a collection of pictures of the class, including one where several superheroes, princesses, and even a kid dressed as Chucky defeated the mighty Munson dragon.

It was so cute that Steve had half a mind to send a reply that said so but second guessed it. He didn't need to tell Shawn's teacher it was a cute picture that was the whole reason he sent it. He had to keep all correspondence professional. But it was a picture of Shawn so he was well within his rights to save all of them to his phone.

"You ha~ve a cru~ush~", Robin sang on the phone. She was pulling some dino nuggets from the oven in preparation for Shawn coming over.

"Shut up, I don't!", Steve hissed on the other end. School had just ended but there would be a staff meeting in about five minutes. "I didn't tell you so you could make fun of me-"

"Come on, you knew it was coming-"

"I told you because I just had to tell someone." Steve sighed and took of his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's not creepy if he's Shawn's former teacher, right?"

"Steve, I'm gonna be honest, I don't think it's creepy now." Robin picked up one of the nuggets and chomped on it. "It's kind of crazy how we have dino nuggets and animal crackers but not the other way around."

"Please save that for Shawn when he gets there. What do you mean? Wouldn't it be weird?"

"You're both two grown adults. I don't see the harm in asking him out", Robin said.

Steve slouched in his chair behind his desk. "That's not the only fact here. There's the fact that he's teaching my son. If any of the other parents find out, they'll think I'm sleeping my son's way to the top."

"....In first grade? That would be pathetic."

"Most suburban gossip is, but you already know this. It's not me I'm worried about really, it's Shawn. Kids talk too and what if they make fun of him?"

"Oh no! My awesome dad is dating my awesome teacher! Whatever will I do?!", Robin wailed.

"He thinks we're awesome separately. There's no telling what he'll think of us together. And I...I don't want to give him false hope."

"Steve...when was the last time you went on a date?"

Steve let out a puff of air. "Does that one guy who ogled me a few years ago count?"

"Gross! Steve! No! Do you mean the guy who was just staring at you breast feeding?"

"Serves me right for doing it in public. And in shorts."

"Hey, no, there will be no slut-shaming in this household." Robin paused when she heard the door open and the bounding of feet. "Your gremlin is here."

"I think you mean my precious miracle from above. And you will treat him as such. My only gremlins are my sixth graders."

"Whatever. Just get your shipwreck together and decide what you want to do."

Turns out, Steve didn't have to wait long for an opportunity. Shawn had come home that day with a flyer for a Thanksgiving performance and was asking for parent volunteers.

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

Eddie wasn't like, actively hoping that he would see Shawn's dad again. But when the fliers went home asking for volunteers, as well as an email, there was something going up. But it wasn't hope. It definitely wasn't hope. It couldn't possibly be hope. That way nothing could be dashed when nothing came of it.

So when he came into the auditorium after school, he was simply pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Harrington there. Not elated. Not ecstatic. Just appropriately pleased.

He greeted all the parents of his students, of which he only saw two others before coming to Mr. Harrington.

"Nice to see you again", he said with a handshake.

"And you as well", Mr. Harrington replied.

Eddie was sure he was imagining the electricity passing through their touch.

"Well, welcome to elementary theatre. Where we're gonna nurture any and all blossoming passions in the arts."

"Can't wait to see it. Um, so what exactly will they be doing?", Steve asked.

"The first grade class as the honor of doing a little song on what they're thankful for. Mrs. Clifford usually accompanies them by piano, but this year I'm hoping to get some more instrumentation for it."

"Oh, Shawn told me you play guitar."

Eddie's first instinct was to twirl his hair to hide his smile but it was still up in a bun, so he tried to fix his face to not be too obvious but he was sure it came out as a weird grimace.

"Yeah, yeah I do. Been playing for years. What about you, any instrumental skills?"

"None", Mr. Harrington shook his head. "My parents tried piano lessons, but I never took them for long. Just long enough to learn 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'."

"Everybody's got their talents. And no better place to showcase them", Eddie thrust his arms out around them.

"Well for now, I'm volunteering my time being a watchful eye and working on backgrounds and costumes. Plus snacks."

"Wait, did you bring the chips and sliders?", Eddie jutted a thumb toward the table near the stage.

Mr. Harrington shrugged. "It's just turkey and ham. And I know how ravenous kids can get."

"Are you guys talking about me?", Shawn asked, coming up to them.

Eddie watched the odd look on Mr. Harrington's face and was sure his must've looked similar. This was probably the longest he'd been talking to a parent without talking about their kid.

"I was just about to bow to your dad's culinary prowess", Eddie said. "Apparently, he made the snacks for this evening."

"I asked him to make his stuffing because, you know, Thanksgiving, but he said it was too early", Shawn said.

"I'm sure his stuffing is delicious", Eddie smiled down at him.

"You should come to our house and try it", Shawn beamed, leaning his head against his dad's hip.

Eddie looked back up at Mr. Harrington. "I'd love it if I could do that."

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

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Steve was thankfully saved from replying to that by rehearsal starting and so Mr. Munson's attention was drawn away but seriously. What the fuck was that? Was that man inviting himself over to his house? Was it simple small talk? What was it all supposed to mean?

He was put on costume duty while the children practiced which kept his hands busy but not his brain, so he spent the next hour over thinking about that one line, which led to him overanalyzing the entire conversation. When practice ended, the teachers stood by the front entrance to wait for any parents that weren't already there or hadn't shown up toward the end to get their kids.

Mr. Munson waved off the last of his students just as Shawn finished in the bathroom and Steve helped him get his coat on. He looked hesitant before speaking up.

"Looks like you're my last one. I can walk you to your car if you want. It's pretty dark out."

Pretty dark was an understatement. It was near pitch black and the parking lot had bare minimum lighting. Steve definitely would've felt better about it if he had someone on the other side of Shawn.

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

And without being told so, Mr. Munson put Shawn between them as they left the school and walked out into the parking lot. He gave a whistle once they got to Steve's BMW.

"Nice car."

"Thanks. She's been pretty faithful to me all these years." Steve unlocked the car and let Shawn into the backseat first. When he closed the door, he smiled at the alpha before him. "Thanks for walking us out.

"Consider it a routine then. At least until this place can afford to fully light up the lot."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it." There must have been the tiniest bit of a lull in the conversation because suddenly Shawn piped up from inside the car.

"Dad, can we get tacos for dinner?"

Steve snapped out of whatever staring contest he was having with Mr. Munson and looked down affectionately at his son. "What? My casserole not good enough all of a sudden?" He opened the driver side door and got in, turning the ignition on.

With them safely in the car, Eddie went over to his van and got in, waiting until he saw Mr. Harrington pull out before going his own way.

Later that night, after putting Shawn to bed, Steve was left alone with his thoughts again as he graded papers using an answer key at the kitchen table. It was easy to let his mind drift into just how...how wonderful Mr. Munson seemed.

He bit his lip and squeezed his legs together. Mr. Munson was handsome, and charismatic, and so safe, so much the perfect alpha that he'd been led to believe didn't exist. He could protect him and his pup... and Steve could give him more pups...

Steve's hand drifted down between his legs and he let it stroke a few times before freezing and closing his grade book. Time for something more mentally stimulating.

"Guess I'm lesson planning tonight."

Part 3

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @hippieg1rl420

[spamgyu]

One day, when College!OC isn’t paying attention, she’ll hug or cuddle homeboy Mingyu “by accident”

u guys are really out to get me bc i love this au so much and i love the slow burn and the pining i......

alright here we GO

COLLEGE!Mingyu drabble – flus and cuddes

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable

College!Mingyu Masterlist

"What are you doing here?"

It was a rare sight for y/n to be anywhere near their school basketball arena at this time – 9pm on a school night to be exact. More importantly, it was a rare sight for him to see her so.... glum.

He had just finished practice for the night, ready to jump into bed and soothe his sore muscles when he had caught sight of the girl trudging slowly towards the building.

"I'm going home with my dad." She sniffled, adjusting the straps of the duffle bag on her shoulder.

Mingyu reached forward, placing his cold hand against her forehead – wincing once he felt the temperature. "You're burning."

"I know, I think I caught my roommates flu." She sighed, allowing Mingyu to take the heavy bag from her.

"Come on." He put his arm around her shoulder, walking to match her pace back into the building and to her father's office.

She would typically shrug off his touch, but considering her current state, she allowed it – leaning into his body.

"Special delivery." Mingyu announced as they stepped through the doorway – her father looking up from his laptop, grinning once he caught sight of who had entered his office with his daughter.

His dreamteam.

"You guys look close." He smiled.

"Dad, please I'm dying." She whined, not in the mood for her father's teasing. It was enough that he found ways to sneak Mingyu into any conversation they were having, she couldn't have him do this while she was under the weather too.

"Take a seat, I just have one email to send." He nodded over to the couch that had been well loved by many of the boys on the team – napping in between classes or after practices.

Y/n trudged over to the couch, dramatically plopping down. "My head is pounding, my nose is running, my chest hurts–"

"Sweetie, I'll be quick." Her dad chuckled. She had always been his little princess, and she was not planning on letting go of this title anytime soon – knowing that she had her dad wrapped around her fingers.

Mingyu couldn't help but laugh as well, having only seen this side of her once. She really did act different around her parents; her little devilish tone she used around him and her freinds disappearing anytime she spoke to her mom and dad.

"Scoot." Mingyu lightly tapped her, motioning her to move from the center of the couch to make room for him.

Groaning, y/n obliged to his request – earning a smile from the boy.

"You know you can leave." She grumbled.

"Y/n." Her father scolded as he continued to type.

"I'm just saying." She defended.

"I'm keeping you company."

"I don't need company. I need to go home."

"Just take a nap for a bit." Her dad suggested.

"Nap? I thought it will be qui–"

"Sh..." Mingyu slowly pulled her head down to rest on his shoulder; y/n letting out a sigh as she felt the pounding from her head dial down to a soft pulse.

Though she didn't want to admit it aloud, she was grateful to have his shoulder to lean on; finding it a little too comfortable as she felt her eyes grow heavy.

Maybe it was the nyquil she took before heading over to meet her dad, or maybe it was the fever, but Y/n found herself sinking deeper into the couch — and deeper into Mingyu's shoulder.

As if she could be any closer than she was now.

Which, in fact could be true.

Y/n could have sworn she had just closed her eyes for a few seconds. Maybe even a millisecond.

She was awoken by the sound of Mingyu and her dad laughing; blinking as she adjusted to the light of the room.

It didn't take long before she realized she was not in the same position she was earlier – one of her legs hooked over Mingyu's left leg, her arm wrapped around his arm.

One heck of a nap...

"Cozy?" He smiled down at her.

With eyes wide, she quickly unwrapped herself from him – scooting to the far end of the couch.

He was her friend, and sure, they may have gotten closer. But not this close.

Hell they haven't even hugged before.

Yuck.

"Aw come on don't be like–"

"I was sick. It was the virus. Don't you dare say another word." She shook a finger at him.

"I told you, she's mean!" Mingyu turned towards the older man with a frown.

They talk about her when she wasn't around?

No scratch that, Mingyu brings her up to her dad?

What are they? In-laws? Bonding over her? Don't they have other things to talk about? Like sports?

"You guys talk about me– I don't want to know actually." She shook her head, getting up to grab her bag from the floor. "Can we go now? Please!"

There's no way in hell Mingyu was going to let what had just happened go — Y/n internally groaning at the thought of him teasing her about it.

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

[feyhunter78]

AAAA I’M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMM ❤️❤️

Thank you!!!! 🥺🥺 I'm excited to see y'all's reactions to the newest chapterrrrr Also, I lied about the smut it's in the next chapter, but there is some suggestive type stuff unfortunately it's from Todd

Pink Pastels Pt 9

Description: It's Saturday, and you're at a sports bar with Todd, until you find yourself on the roof with Spiderman.

Pt 10

It’s Saturday. One of your two days off, and all you want to do is relax, but here you are at a shitty sports bar, beer already spilled on your shorts by some drunk idiot, your boyfriend completely ignoring you as he pounds his fist against the bar, screaming at the TV. His team is losing, you assume, as you push away from the bar, drink in hand, and wonder back to your table.

You pull out your phone and scroll through your email, responding to a few, ignoring others, until finally you see a response from a kid in your class’s mother.

Jessica Tompson: Ms. Y/N, I will be available at six PM on Monday to meet with you regarding Tommy’s behavior. I look forward to getting to the bottom of this issue.

You smile and send her a quick response back; you’ve been trying to get Tommy’s mother in for a meeting since October. Tommy wasn’t a bad kid, he just needed extra support and attention, and potentially some ADHD testing. But you knew people were hesitant to test their kids, afraid to “label” them, even though those “labels” could really help their kids in school.

You couldn’t count how many times you’ve explained that identifying where kids are struggling can get them access to accommodations that they need to thrive. Such as extra time on assignments or a quieter, smaller room to take tests in, so they weren’t as distracted. Sure, they wouldn’t get these things forever, but if they got them now, it would help them learn how to self-regulate for the future.

You tap your fingers on the tabletop happily and bound over to Todd. “Hey, guess what, I’m finally getting that mom to come in and talk to me.”

“Who?” He asks, beer in hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Tommy Tompson’s mom.”

“Oh, the hot one with the nice rack?”

One of his friends high-fives him, and you put on a tight smile. “I don’t really look at my students’ parents like that, but maybe?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got eyes, sue me.” Then he slammed his beer down on the bar. “Are you fucki—that’s bullshit, Ref!”

Miguel wouldn’t say things like that, he wouldn’t ignore you for football. He’d congratulate you, slip between your legs, his full lips parted, his pink tongue finding a hom— You shake yourself out of your thoughts.

This was crazy, you shouldn’t have done that… Should have stuck to fantasizing about a celebrity, or well, you should’ve been thinking about Todd, he is your boyfriend.

“What a shitty call, Ref!” You echo him, and that earns you a smile thrown your way, and an arm around your shoulders.

You just want things to go back to how they used to be, but honestly, you’re not even sure it used to be good. Maybe you just didn’t really know any different, but now after, all those little chats at pickup, during parent teacher meetings, and then the day at the zoo? How is it that a man, who barely knows you, treats you better than your boyfriend of years?

You walk home with Todd leaning heavily on you, his lips are on your neck, sloppy and clumsy, missing that certain spot on your neck in favor of slobbering all over your skin.

“Todd, maybe we need to slow down a bit.” You say carefully, trying to pry him off you.

“Again?” He sighs heavily, annoyance clear in his tone.

Your face flushes, shame burning through you, and you bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.

When you first started dating you were so new to everything, you’d had a few boyfriends before, but they were short-lived, almost chaste. Todd on the other hand was a complete and utter manwhore.

“I thought you were over all that.” He grumbles, trudging along the sidewalk, refusing to look at you.

He wanted everything fast, fast, fast, and you were dragged along for the ride, anxious and unprepared.

“I am, I am, it’s just you’re drunk, and your head is going to hurt in the morning…” You tell him, helping him up the stairs and through your apartment door.

He makes a beeline for your living room and flops down on your couch. “So, what, I want you, and you’re my girlfriend, so.”

You try to hide your grimace, but he sees it and groans.

“You’re always like this, I swear, such a prude.” He throws an arm over his eyes and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out.

You blanch, there’s no way he’s just going to jerk off, drunk, in the middle of your living room, right?

“Todd, seriously?” You snap, grabbing a decorative pillow and hurling it at him.

He ignores you, pumping himself, grunts and groans spilling from his lips. You used to find him attractive, you’ve always liked when he was vocal but now? Now it feels traitorous to hear him instead of Miguel.

But you’ve never heard Miguel, your mind was just making things up, that’s what dreams and fantasies are.

“You’re such a dick.”

He sat up, still gripping his erect cock. Was it smaller than you remembered? “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you’d do your job.”

"My job?” You ask, thoroughly confused.

He points at his cock, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, there’s no way he means what you think he means.

“Good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.” He says it with such certainty, that it sounds ridiculous.

You bust out laughing, doubling over, gasping for breath. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not, you’re just a—” then he goes quiet, and you look up to see him passed out cold, cock still in hand.

You stand there for a moment, flabbergasted. There’s no fucking way that just happened.

Throwing a blanket over Todd, you head for the fire escape a different blanket in hand, climbing up to the roof, and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling, your hands behind you supporting you as you lean back.

You let out a sigh, tilting your head up towards the night sky. It feels good out here, cool breeze, the sounds of the city at night, the gentle coo of the pigeons the apartment manager cares for.

A soft thump draws your attention, and you jump scrambling away from the edge, and turning on your heel. Only to come face to chest with Spiderman.

“I wish it was that easy to get everyone off the ledge.” He says, a hint of humor in his voice.

You remember what he looks like, and his face, mask? is everywhere, but it’s different when you’re not terrified or watching some grainy news footage.

“And he’s funny too.” You joke, giving him a small smile.

He tilts his head, scanning you, then reaches out and his gloved thumb brushes across your cheek. “You were crying?”

Were you crying? You touch your face, your fingertips coming away damp. “Oh, I didn’t even notice, it’s just been a long day.”

You spread out your blanket and sit, your back against the wall, and you pat the space before you.

“Won’t your boyfriend be upset if he found out, you’re sharing a blanket with a masked hero?” He teases, sitting in the space you made for him.

“My boyfriend is currently passed out drunk with his dick in his hand.” You tell him, the low light making you braver than you’d normally be.

He goes silent, the eye parts of his mask widening, and you think that’s his version of raised eyebrows.

“He was drunk and pissed at me because I didn’t want him to slobber up my neck, so then he whips it out, and when I tell him to stop, he calls me a prude and says I should do my job , which is such an asshole thing to say.” It feels good to ramble, to just vent all your feelings onto this masked semi-stranger.

“Do your job?” Spiderman asks, his eyes narrowed.

“He said, and I quote, good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.’ Literally so ridiculous…” You trail off as Spiderman rolls his shoulders back.

For a moment you’re hypnotized by the movement, the sheer mass of muscle.

“…shoes?”

You snap out of it. “I’m sorry?”

“Did you like your new shoes?” He asks, and you hear a smile in his voice.

Wow, y/n, rude much? You didn’t even think to thank the man who not only saved your life, but also replaced your shoes.

“Yes, thank you so much, how much do I owe you?” You go to pull out your wallet but realize you left it in your bedroom.

“No, it’s alright, consider it an apology for not getting there fast enough.” He holds his hands up in a pacifying manner.

You purse your lips but nod. “Alright, well, again, thank you.”

You’re fiddling with the necklace Gabi and Miguel got you, and it seems to catch his eye. “That’s pretty, your boyfriend get you that?”

You shake your head, dropping the pendant. “No, it was a gift from one of my kids, I’m a teacher.”

“That’s cute, do you mind if I?” He motions towards it slightly, and you lean forward, letting him catch it between two long fingers. “Very nice.”

“Yeah, I think it’s really sweet.” You smile up at him, breath catching in your throat when he releases the pendant close to your skin, his fingertip brushing the tops of your breasts.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to touch...” He says quickly, retracting his hand.

You give him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”

“What’d your boyfriend say?”

“About the gift? I don’t think he even noticed.” You scoff, brushing your hair back from your shoulders.

“No, what did he say after you turned him down?” His voice is lower, warmer, spreading across your skin and seeping into your bones.

“Oh well, he tried to argue then passed out.” You giggle, Spiderman’s masked form still inches from your own.

Spiderman lets out a low hum and tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “He phrased it all wrong, good girls don’t suck dick, they take cock.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7

[twst-kumi]

Hello there, hope everyone is doing fine. This is my new story, Weeping Maiden. The first Arc will be in RSA. Hope you all liked seeing Yuu because it was his last appearance until NRC's arc. The story will be with a Female Reader. It's Yandere themed story.

Summary

You were just a tester for your friend's project. On the last days, you go to sleep and wake up in Twisted Wonderland (the game your friend worked on). But instead of waking up in Night Raven College, you found yourself in Royal Sword Academy. At least before Yuu somehow begs for you to come with him.

PROLOGUE part 1

She wasn't really in the mood but it was a good escape. [Name] could hear people talk about it, pitying her and all. The “poor girl”, and “it must have been hard” were endless, she felt bitter. It was hypocritical of them. Acting like you were sorry, saying they hoped he would be found soon, but not even doing anything to help. 

Naturally, [Name] isolated herself in games and other things. Everyone gave up on finding him and after unsuccessful pleas on her part, she just shut herself off to not see any of them. To not face the reality of his disappearance and her family breaking apart. How they all demanded that she move on. It was impossible, so she just stayed locked up in her room. 

It has been 3 years now, and she is completely a shut-in refusing to even talk to her parents who ended up giving up on trying to get her out. It was one of those days when she got an email from her friend, she wanted to break someone's record on a speedrun. It was a hard level so she fully focused on it. In the end, she failed in her speedrun. [Name] grumbled when she saw the mail. Reading it, she sighed. Right, recently her friend asked her to be a tester for a game project she did with some company, Twisted Wonderland. It was a gig or some way to earn some pocket money. Up until now, she liked the game, it was interesting. 

After sending her report for the game, she returned to her ongoing game when she got a text.

"_ I'm sorry

_ For what?

_ for everything

_ why? What do you mean by that?"

No response. Her friend, Hatsuko, was the only friend she stayed in contact with. It was strange as they never talked before his disappearance. She was the only one who tried to help her find some traces. Maybe she gave up on helping her. The deal between them was that she would be paid 40% less than she should but in exchange, Hatsuko would try to help her find him. 

[Name] tried to call her but had no success. Her phone wasn't responding. The young girl panicked trying to call her again and again.

A few hours later, she felt tired. Her eyes were red and puffy and she felt like crying. She ended up falling asleep on her bed. 

***

[Name] felt a warm hand on her head. Slowly, a muffled voice could be heard around her. Opening her eyes slowly, she looked at the old man hovering over her. 

“_Where… 

_You are in the Royal Sword Academy. We found you unconscious in the main hall.

_uh… who are you?

_I’m Ambrose, the Headmage of this School.”

[Name] looked confused as she talked with the friendly old man. She was confident Royal Sword Academy was the rival school from Twisted Wonderland. The game her friend asked her to test for her. At first, she thought she was dreaming, it has to be it. After a long conversation between them, the kind elderly decided to keep her here until she got home. It was funny how her situation mirrored Yuu, the game's main protagonist. The difference was that she was in the RSA,  and that headmaster was a friendly man. He looked more responsible too. 

From their chat together, she learned that she was unconscious for three days. Meanwhile, Ambrose researched to know who she was so he could call her parents, but he found nothing, even when he tried to call anyone from her phone contact. [Name] thanked him for his help. At least he was more responsible. 

“_So I guess you will stay with us for the time being dear. But as a girl, I can't just let you sleep in a room full of boys. 

_Do I have to disguise myself then? I mean, I’m a girl so…

_Oh, dear no. There is no need for that. You will stay in an old dorm. 

_I see but…

_You will be here as a temporary student. Don’t worry, we don’t know how this happened but I can’t leave such a young child alone and in the cold. Until then, you will be under this school's responsibility.”

[Name] couldn’t help but feel both anxious and relieved. The old man seemed sincere, and knowing she had a place to stay until then helped her to calm down. The old man walked her to the school after she ate something. She could feel the other students' eyes on her, all of them were curious. 

“_Ah Neige. Good, I was looking for you.

_Hello, Headmaster Ambrose. And you are… ah, the girl who appeared in the sacred tree room. Are you okay now?

_Yes, thank you I'm [Name] by the way. 

_[Name], Neige will help you around when I’m not around. 

_Come to me if you need something.”

It was strange to see them in real life when she used to watch them through a screen. The young girl followed Ambrose after her little tour. The director took her to her future dorm. The difference between here and Ramshackle dorm was too big. 

“_It’s a little, I'm sorry but I can’t find anywhere better.

No, no. It's okay.”

Her dorm looked like a mini castle. It was so generous of the old man, that it felt suspicious. But what could she do? He was her only option. Also, the way he looked overjoyed at her presence made her feel kind of guilty. Like she shouldn't be doubting him. [Name] knew he was supposed to be king, but was too kind. They walked into the dorm it was beautiful, with flowers everywhere almost like in a fairy tale. She supposed that it was normal for the big rival of Night Raven College. They were based on the heroes from fairy tales in opposition to the main cast. 

“_This is Royaldawn dormitory, it will be your home dear, please take some rest.”

[Name] explored the dorm a little before finally resting in her room. she looked at her locket before closing her eyes and holding the small pendant tightly in her hand.

“_Brother…”

***

Yuu looked different, so lifeless, it was worrying everyone on the campus of Night Raven College. He was in this state for three days now. He was mumbling and mumbling without even stopping about how he couldn’t feel it anymore. He looked particularly on edge if not ready to jump on anyone he saw. The aura around him changed too, it looked darker, more unhinged too. Yuu were becoming unstable and maybe a little crazy too. 

“_Hey Prefect, how are you?

_I can’t find it…” 

Ace looked at his friend rummaging in the grass looking for something. He never saw him panic like this before, even in the middle of an Overblot. Ace got on his knee and started to search with him.

“_What are you looking for? 

_My necklace, it’s a silver locket.”

The two Heartslabyul students looked everywhere for it. Yuu was shaking as he was slowly breaking down. Tears were trailing down as he frantically searched for the lost locket. The more he couldn’t find it, the more he was frantic. 

“_I CAN’T FIND IT, I CAN’T FIND IT, I CAN’T FIND IT, I CAN’T FIND IT, I CAN’T FIND IT!!!

_STOP! YUU!!!”

Their scream got the other students’ attention as they helped the two Heartslabyul pin the magicless prefect down to prevent him from tearing himself down. It looked terrible.

next >

[swissboyhisch]

My Princess

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Princess!Reader

Summary: Being the Princess of Australia has its perks. Like being able to bring your best friend's sport to your country letting you reunite with your favourite person in the world.

Word Count: 2233

Warnings: Royalty AU, slight mention of alcohol (I think, tbh I can't remember)

A/N: This is for one of my favs @mp0625's Birthday Bingo. Sorry it's a little late but I kind of got away with this fic. I really hope you enjoy this because I enjoyed writing it! I hope you had an amazing birthday <3

My choice of five bingo boxes were (middle column):

Fan of another sport

Royalty AU

Free Square (Choice - Reuniting)

Childhood Friends

It’s raining (men)

I really hope you enjoy this! I'm really happy how this turned out :)

*after posting this and getting some anons, I just want to state I KNOW Australia have an ice hockey league. I am from Australia. I follow the two leagues, I go to games, I have jerseys. Just because it isn’t mentioned doesn’t mean I don’t know. This is an AU based around the Global series. Which did happen and was the coyotes vs kings which I WENT to IN PERSON. You don’t have to send me anons. I get it*

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Being the Princess of Australia was pretty amazing. You got to travel the world with your mother and older brother, meet amazing people (and not-so-amazing ones). You got nice clothes and did things many others your age couldn’t. You and your family were loved by the people of Australia.

When you were a kid, you had a trip to Russia. Your parents were on a political visit, and you had to go along with them. This is one of your favourite memories from childhood. Your family was shown around Moscow, and you accidentally bumped into a boy not much older than you on the street. While your parents were busy talking to other adults, you and the boy, who introduced himself as Andrei, talked and ran around together. When it was time to go, you begged your parents to ask if the pair of you could write to each other.

As you both grew up, the letters turned into emails, then messages, calls, and FaceTimes whenever the time zones allowed it. Even once he moved to Michigan for hockey, you talked whenever you could.

One of the perks of being part of the Royal family was having a say in which events came to Perth. When whispers of the NHL bringing the Global Series to Australia started, you advocated for Perth to be the city of choice. When you turned up to the meeting in Melbourne with the NHL officials, you mentioned how much you liked hockey and that Perth would show the NHL a good time. The first green light was for Perth to host the weekend event.

Your mother thought this would be a good event for you to take charge of since you were so passionate about hockey—your second passion after AFL, of course (not that you’d tell Andrei that). You took charge of organising everything for the event with the help of the city’s major event organisers.

Through the journey of organising the weekend, you advocated for the Carolina Hurricanes to be one of the teams. If the Canes were the main choice, then the most exciting game would be against the New York Rangers. The more intense a rivalry, the more likely people would be enticed to watch a sport they’d never seen.

You still remember the call with Andrei when you got the confirmation about the teams being the Canes and the Rangers. It was after dinner when you FaceTimed Andrei, who was in New York for a game.

“How’s it going, Princess?” Andrei grinned when he answered the call.

You were bouncing off the walls of your apartment in the palace. He could see you beaming. “It’s confirmed!”

“What’s confirmed?”

“You’re coming to Perth!” you squealed.

Andrei was confused. “I’m what?”

“The Global Series is coming to Perth,” you elaborated, “and the Canes are one of the teams.”

“I’m going to see you?!” Andrei asked, tears welling up as it had been a year since you had seen each other. The last time was the All-Star game when you flew out to support him. “Oh my god, I can’t wait! When?”

“September,” you answered.

“That’s like six months away!”

When the week finally arrived, you were ecstatic. Only all the years of Royalty training could mask the happiness you felt. You and your personnel were tucked away out of sight unless you were walking in from a specific plane—the one carrying all the hockey players and staff. One by one, the familiar faces of the Canes passed by where you were standing.

“Hello, Your Highness,” Aho grinned when he recognized you standing by the exit of the tunnel.

You laughed at the boy, “Hi Fishy, how are you?”

“Better now that Svech will stop bouncing,” he replied, standing near you facing his teammates coming out, waiting for his teammate. “Look who’s coming.”

Lifting yourself on your tiptoes to see over the other six-foot-plus player, you spied the familiar Russian, bouncing foot to foot in excitement.

“Gee, Princess,” Mickey, one of your guards, laughed.

As soon as Andrei got within reaching distance, you ran for him, launching yourself at him. The two of you were wrapped up in each other, both with tears running down your faces.

“I’ve missed you, Princess,” Andrei whispered.

“I missed you too.”

You tagged along with the teams to their hotel, one of the best in the city. Your mother had decided to host the teams at one of your family’s favourite restaurants, a rooftop bar overlooking the gorgeous Scarborough Beach. You had a change of clothes in the car, knowing you’d be going from one place to another without returning to the palace.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Andrei grinned as he watched you come out of the bathroom.

“You mean you’re here,” you smirked as you slipped in your earrings once more.

Andrei travelled with you and your security from the hotel to the restaurant. The rest of the team and staff took a bus. Your mother, older brother, and his long-term girlfriend would meet you at the restaurant, which was hired out for the night.

“How’s your family?” Andrei asked as you both stepped out of the car after one of the guards.

“You’ll see them in a sec,” you laughed, intertwining your fingers with his.

The pair beat the buses to the restaurant, so they went up to meet your mom and brother. Your security stayed by the entrance as there was already security posted around the restaurant.

“Andrei Svechnikov,” your mom smiled when she saw you two nearing. “It’s lovely to see you thriving in the league.”

“Your Majesty,” Andrei grinned, bowing and knowing the protocols.

“We’ve missed you around here,” your mom admitted.

Your brother stepped up, cutting in, “Some more than others.”

You made sure to lean over and hit him. Not the first time and definitely won’t be the last with his history of smart comments. “Shut it.”

The elevator dinged, and in walked the coaching staff and players of the two NHL teams. Each of them greeted your family before everyone mingled.

“How have you been?” you asked Seb as he and Jarvis stood with you and Andrei in the garden smoking area. No one was smoking, but it was a nice little seating area.

“Good,” both boys replied.

Water started to rain down on you guys where you sat. Seb and Jarvis raced to go inside out of the shower. You just laughed, looking at Andrei who was already looking at you. Just like the moment in every romance movie, Andrei leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in the rain. As his arms slipped around your waist, yours slipped around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Get out from the sprinklers,” your mother shouted with a large smile on her face.

You pulled away and looked up at the clear skies. The bloody sprinklers in the garden had decided to turn on while you were sitting there. You and Andrei laughed as you moved to step out of the garden area.

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” a worker apologized as she handed both of you a towel to dry off with.

“It’s no issue,” you laughed, your eyes not leaving the grinning Russian beside you.

The pair of you didn’t part throughout dinner. The table you were at was filled with Andrei, his favourite boys, and their partners. You were glowing with happiness, and so was Andrei. His friends were happy to see the friendship blossom into something more.

“I don’t know if you have been told,” your mother started, standing from her seat with the coaching staff, “but on Friday evening, I got three boxes, including the royal box, at the AFL game tomorrow. It’s Eagles vs. Dockers, which is a big game. It’s called the Derby.”

“It’s the equivalent to a Rangers versus Islanders game or the Oilers versus Flames,” you elaborated for the players who had no clue about the sport.

The week was spent with Andrei, attending practices and hanging out with your best friend. If he had enough time, he’d come to your apartment in the palace. It wasn’t just Andrei either; sometimes you and Andrei would take the others and partners out around the city. You got to play host and tour guide around your home city.

Friday night came around, and you dressed up like you usually do for football: jeans, a cute top with a coat, and an Eagles scarf to finish the outfit. You had brought your clothes to the hotel to get ready with Andrei. The two teams had taken sides. Canes were supporting West Coast like you. Rangers were supporting Fremantle like your brother and his girlfriend.

“You look excited,” Andrei grinned as you and the group arrived at the royal box at Optus Stadium.

“I love watching the footy!” you grinned, waving at fans standing below the box.

In the royal box were you, Andrei and his close friends and partners, your mother, and security. Your brother and his girlfriend were with the Rangers as they were cheering on Fremantle. You and the group were excited for the centre bounce. Of course, the group was going through the media as it was a big deal with the NHL teams in the city.

“Your Highness, are you ready to go down to do the coin flip?”

“Of course,” you smiled at the worker.

You, Andrei, your brother, and Trouba followed the worker down to the oval. Your brother would do this week’s coin toss as you did the previous derby. The four of you, two supporters of each team. Oscar Allen and Alex Pearce both bowed to the royals, then shook hands with the four of you.

“Lovely to see you again, Oscar,” you grinned as you hugged the captain.

“You as well, Your Highness,” the blonde chuckled.

After the coin toss, which the Eagles won, they chose the way they were kicking first before the royal party was escorted back to the boxes to watch the game. As the group walked past the Eagles huddle, Harley Reid peeled away from the group for a second to fist bump the Princess as she walked by.

“Good luck, Harley,” you called as he ran back.

Harley waved back, a wide grin on the rookie's face, “We’ve got this.”

Andrei was confused at the interaction but knew you were friendly with all the players on the team. “Who’s that?”

“That is Harley Reid,” you answered. “He was the number one draft pick last year. He’s changed the mood on the team greatly. Great dude.”

As you and Andrei settled back in the suite, you cuddled into Andrei’s side. It was kind of chilly but nothing too crazy. The boys threw questions at you about the game. Who’s this player? What’s that move? What is the ref calling?

“What does it mean when they kick it between the posts?” Aho asked as the Eagles scored the first goal of the game.

You laughed at the question after you finished cheering. “It’s a goal, worth six points. Between the inner and outer posts on each side is a behind, worth only a point.”

The game went by with lots of cheering from the Canes and yourself. The game took off with an exciting start. The Eagles kept the lead through all four quarters. Sure, the Dockers came close, but the Eagles took off in the last quarter. The satisfaction of singing the winning song was incredible, and all the boys enjoyed it.

The next big event was the first game of the Global Series in Perth. You traveled with the Canes to the stadium while your family would meet you there just before the game. It was agreed that you and your brother would both do the puck drop. He said he’d wear the Rangers jersey to allow you to wear the Canes jersey of your upgraded best friend.

“This will be you and the Canes families’ suite, Your Highness,” a worker stated as you were shown where you’d sit for the game.

As much as you wished to sit in the front row to watch your boyfriend, you couldn’t. It was too high risk for security. So instead, you were in the suite with the girlfriends of the Canes, which you guess you were now a part of.

“Hey sweetheart,” Brent Burns’ wife greeted you with their two kids.

After spending so long with the team and families, you had told them to just call you by your name. And like normal, nicknames were created. Andrei always called you Princess. The team called you Your Highness. The older women in the families called you sweetheart.

The game was intense, and the girls were energetic. You were on your feet every time the boys scored. The girls were right there beside you as well. The first thing you all did after the game was head down to where the makeshift change rooms were.

“There she is,” Andrei grinned when he came off the ice after the photos were taken.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around the giant hockey player. “Wow, it’s like you’re taller on skates.”

“I wonder,” he laughed, pulling you closer.

“Congrats on the hatty, Mr. Sweaty.”

Andrei chuckled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips, “With my good luck charm watching me and cheering me on, always, My Princess.”

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