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beomcoups · 8 months ago

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Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia. Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did.

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend.��

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you. You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop.

I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night.

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.”

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.”

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.”

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.”

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition.

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?”

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to.

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off.

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier.

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head.

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing.

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them.

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic.

You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.”

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying.

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.”

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.”

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that.

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.”

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future.

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

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atinylittlepain · 1 year ago

Text

Born in the USA - Part One of Hungry Hearts

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, eventual smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

a/n | hellooooo, folks, and welcome to the first installation of my Hungry Hearts series! i'm so stoked to share this one with y'all, as always let me know what you think!

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

The radio DJ called for record-breaking heat simmering the streets of Austin this week, and he certainly delivered. Too hot to think, too hot work, too hot to do much of anything until the sun starts to melt down in the late afternoons. She swears that she can feel the rubber soles of her sneakers sticking to the sidewalk with each step, the heat pressing humid hands to the back of her neck, sweat pooling in all the soft dips of her body. And it’s not like she wants to be out here in the first place. In fact, she would much rather be sitting in front of the box fan in her room right now, calculating how many days, hours, and minutes until she’ll be leaving again for school. It can’t come soon enough.

Nothing much has changed around her neighborhood since she was home in December for her holiday break. Same houses with the sleepy looking windows and basketball hoops in the driveways, same families with the nosey wives and oblivious husbands, same kids getting older and taller and more socially awkward. And the same empty lot at the end of the cul-de-sac that had been turned into patchy baseball field when she was in the first grade.

“Outfield, bring it in a little for this next one!”

“Fuck you, Miller! You’re gonna be eating those words!”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that, kid. Show us what you got, why don’t you?” And that’s the same too, unfortunately.

“That’s a strike, wouldn’t you say, Tommy?”

“Sure looked like a strike to me, Joel.” All a bit juvenile, though she would expect nothing less from the Miller brothers. They’re in fine form this afternoon, she thinks, and it seems that all the other girls home from college think the same thing as well, hanging off the chain-link fence and tittering to each other about every ball Joel fields or every fifteen-year-old Tommy stamps out on first. Joel’s idea, no doubt, his eighteen-year-old brother always too happy to hang onto his shirttails and terrorize the pubescent neighborhood kids.

And for his part, Joel seems to know he’s garnered a small audience, just a touch too much flare when the teams switch out and he steps up to bat. He’s dressed in an obscenely short pair of cut-offs, frayed hems grazing along the tan, corded muscles of his thighs. Hi-tops and tube socks, and what once could have been called a shirt, now cropped and unbuttoned so it doesn’t do much but blow in the breeze and expose the lean tautness of his torso. Stance wide, leaning down low in his hips, he winds up the bat right behind his head and lets it rip entirely too hard on the lob he was pitched by that poor fifteen-year-old, sending the ball soaring right over the fence. She has to scoff when the girls she’s standing next to actually clap for him while he drinks it up as he takes a leisurely jog around the plates before jumping down on home with both his feet. And yeah, she thinks, not much has changed, at all.

“Will! Mom wants you home for dinner, let’s go!” Her baby brother, who has decided he is definitely not a baby anymore, does not like her shouting at him one bit, entirely ignoring her with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head from where he’s standing covering first base. Someone else, however, is more than happy to take notice of her.

“Is that? Oh shit! Cherry!” Long and drawn out, Cherryyyyyyyy, with a low whistle at the end. She hasn’t been called that since the last time she saw him, which was last summer in about this same position. Though if there’s one thing she’s gotten good at, it’s ignoring Joel Miller.

“Will, let’s go please!”

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! Why don’t you come over here and show these kids how it’s done? From what I remember you always had a mean little swing.” That gets most of the kids on the field laughing as Joel and Tommy snicker to each other in the makeshift dug out, more of a dirt ditch with a sheet of metal over top of it than anything else.

“Will, I’m not asking, I’m telling. Now.” Maybe she looks like a bitch stomping out onto the field to grab her brother by the arm. She doesn’t care. She’s hot and has sweat dripping in places that sweat should never drip and is coming dangerously close to throttling Joel in front of his little fan club if he doesn’t shut his smug mouth real soon.

“Stop, you’re embarrassing me.” Will doesn’t budge from first when she hooks her hand around his bicep, brooding at her from beneath his bowl cut.

“Do you think I want to be taking you home? Just do me a favor and stop trying to act all tough in front of your little friends so I can go home and get mom off my ass.”

“Hey, Cherry, he’s already got one mom. He doesn’t need you nagging him too!” Joel’s dig drums up another round of laughs from the whole field, and suddenly she’s reconsidering that whole throttling thing. Fine, she thinks, she can do nagging, just wait and see how good she can do nagging. She shifts her tactic, grabbing her brother by the back of his neck instead and starting to haul him along beside her, not giving him time to do anything but trip over his feet in a stilted shuffle to keep up. And of course, it is at that moment that Joel gets the whole crowd of kids started in a chorus of boos.

“Damn, Cherry, when did you become such a tight-ass?” Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the girls still standing along the fence shooting her daggers, maybe it’s just a little bit of all of it that makes her stop dead in her tracks when Joel says that. But before she really knows what she’s doing, she has let go of her brother to march right over to home plate. Seeming a bit surprised that she did, Joel scrambles out of the dug out still too smug for her taste when he comes chest to chest with her.

“Well are you going to give me a bat or what?” His smirk slips into a full grin at that, and for a moment she remembers how pretty she always thought he was. Strong jaw, dark eyes, and that shock of thick, brown hair of his. Such a shame that he’s an enormous tool, really.

“I tell you what, Cherry, what time does your mom want Will home every night?” She knows that look he has in his eyes, all squinted up with his mouth screwed to one side. Always a sucker for a challenge, and she’s all too happy to play along.

“Seven o’clock, why?” He leans in a little closer, ducking his head down like he has the most delicious secret to tell her. She can see the sweat beading and pooling in the hollow of his throat he’s so close.

“Seven o’clock, alright, Cherry. If you can hit a homerun, I will personally see to it that Will is home at seven o’clock on the dot every night for the rest of the summer. How’s that sound?” She tilts her head, hands on her hips like she’s giving it a good think before finally answering him.

“Does he really hang out with you every night?” Joel snorts, his smile going slanted at her.

“Well, someone’s got to keep the kid entertained since you got all boring, miss college.”

“Fine, give me a bat.” That gets her a big grin from him as he backpedals to the dug out to grab a bat for her.

“Let’s switch out who’s fielding. I wanna be on short stop for this hit.” Of course he does. But she thinks to herself that that’s just fine, she’s going to give him a hit to remember.

Tommy was always the nicer of the pair, and as he walks out of the dugout to cover first, he offers her a smile and a shrug as if to apologize for his brother’s dramatics. She always liked Tommy better, even as kids.

She hasn’t done this in a long time. Not since before puberty, probably. She used to play every summer with the Millers and all the other neighborhood kids in this exact lot, and it starts to come back to her as she toes the rubber of her sneakers against home plate. Her palms twist up on the bat, hips shimmying down and back a little to get into the stance, trying her best to focus on the pitcher and not the drawling heckling going on between second and third. He’s doing a warbling rendition of that old Four Seasons song, and she’s pretty sure that the name in the lyrics is Sherry, not Cherry. But he has made it fit with his own demented drone, crooning as he sways a little side to side.

Cherryyyyy, Cherry, baby, Cherryyyyy, can you come out tonight

Youuuuu better ask your mama, Cherry baby

Deep breath in, deep breath out, she has her eyes focused on the ball leaving the soft cradle of the pitcher’s fingers. Like riding a bike, really, the quick swing in her hips and the satisfying crack of the ball hitting the middle of her bat, and, oh. Oh.

“Motherfucker!” It’s not like she meant to, but it’s also not like she’s mad that she did. It was a nice hit, strong and straight, right between second and third. And, well, straight into Joel’s groin.

“What are you doing? Get up, man!” Tommy is all but shrieking at his brother. Joel, however, is still crumpled on the ground and groaning, his hands clenched between his thighs from what she can tell with her quick glances as she jogs from first to second. But she quickly realizes that it’s not just his hands clutched between his legs, but the ball too. And, well, it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon to field that one.

“If you could have him home more around ten till that’d be great, thanks.” If he hears her talking over his curled up body, he makes no show of it, still groaning and writhing around in the dirt with his eyes scrunched shut. She steps over him and continues a much more leisurely pace through third and home.

“Will, let’s go.” Her brother, slack-jawed with his eyes practically popping out of his head, finally listens to her, falling into step alongside her as she can’t help a smirk sliding over her lips. She has to roll her eyes when several of the girls rush out onto the field to fawn over Joel who still seems to be incapacitated and on his knees.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” She tries not to laugh at Will’s exclamation, bumping his shoulder with her own as they start to head home.

“He’ll live.”

…

Sure, he’s always had a competitive streak, he’s not about to deny that. But that competitive streak may, emphasis on may, have gotten a little out of hand now that it’s his baby girl that’s in the competition and not him. Sarah has a talk with him before every game about it. About not yelling at the umpire, about not constantly asking her if she’s staying hydrated in the dugout, and, what she calls the most important point, about not trying to heckle the other team. And everytime, Joel promises her that, yes, he’s going to keep his cool and stay on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. And he tries, he really does. But, well, try is the operative word.

“Alright, babygirl, just like we practiced. Keep your eye on the ball and let your hips lead.” It’s the middle of June, the sun bright and beating down hard on the local ball fields where Joel spends most of his weekends cheering Sarah on in her softball matches. He is not sitting on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. He is hovering at the side of the dug-out with his head stuck out just enough that the umpire won’t yell at him to get back while he coaches Sarah on her swing. Sarah, however, does not seem particularly grateful for his pointers, glaring at him from beneath her helmet as she steps up to the plate.

“Strike!” Swing and a miss. Joel has to remind himself that no, it is not appropriate to swear at a little league softball game, settling instead for a quick clap of his hands.

“That’s alright, baby, that’s alright. Shake it off, baby, focus.”

“Dad, please.” She says it with a dejected tap of her bat against the plate, the universal sign for back off, now. And sure, he thinks, he can back off, a few feet back toward the bleachers so his girl can focus on her swing, sure.

“Strike two!”

“Goddamnit.” He says it quietly enough that he’s pretty sure no one else hears it before stepping back closer to the plate, because obviously Sarah needs a little help here.

“C’mon, baby, you got this. Shake it off. Don’t choke up on the bat like that, baby, nice and easy.”

“Strike three, you’re–”

“Hey, that wasn’t a strike!” Sarah is going to be so mad at him on the drive home, but he’s too busy stepping over to the umpire to yell at him to be worried about that right now.

“Sir, please go sit down on the bleachers.”

“That pitch was way to the right, I saw it, that wasn’t a strike.”

“Dad, it’s fine, I’m out. Just go sit down, please.” Sarah has already taken her helmet off, nudging her bat into the toe of his boot like, hello, you’re embarrassing me here. But Joel knows what he saw, and what he saw was a way to the right pitch that most certainly was not a strike.

“Baby, you are not out, okay? Put your helmet back on.”

“Sir, your daughter is out, now please go sit–”

“Just give her one more shot, man. C’mon.”

“Hey! Three strikes and you’re out, buddy.” It’s a woman’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him, a parent from the other team most likely, though he doesn’t turn around to see who it is, still staring down the umpire.

“That wasn’t a strike!” He tosses the exclamation over his shoulder, but the woman doesn’t seem ready to back down either.

“Are you saying my daughter doesn’t know how to pitch?” Alright, lady, if you want in on the action, be his guest. He turns around slowly, ready to deliver some sort of clever reply that he hasn’t quite worked out in his mind when–

“Oh shit. Cherry?”

“Wow, I haven’t been called that in nearly two decades.” So it is her. And of course it’s her. He’d recognize her anywhere, even seventeen years later. Still that little jut of her hip when she’s pissed, still that little crook of her chin like a challenge, even seventeen years later.

“So you’re still a competitive bastard then?” Yeah, and still that too, seventeen years later.

“I– you– that wasn’t a strike.”

“Oh, yes it was.”

“It was not.”

“My daughter doesn’t pitch balls on two strikes, okay? That was a strike.” With that, she leans to the side to talk to Sarah standing behind him.

“My condolences to you for having to deal with him, kid.”

“Thanks, you’re catching him on a good day, actually.”

“Hey.” He whips around to scold Sarah, but she’s still focused on Cherry.

“How do you know my dad?”

“Oh, me and him go way back. Don’t we, Joel?” He finds himself opening and closing his mouth a few times, looking between Sarah and a woman he thought he would never see again, though before he can get a reply out, the umpire mercifully cuts off their little reunion.

“Folks, there is still an active game going on here. Sir, your daughter is out, so if you could all please get off of home plate so we can keep this game going that’d be great.” Sarah has to tug him back to her team’s dugout, promptly pushing him over and onto the bleachers while he continues to stare at Cherry like she might disappear. She has walked back to the bleachers for her daughter’s team, though she stands on the sideline with her hands on her hips now.

“You’re all good, Els. Just keep them coming, babe.” His attention draws over to the pitcher to whom Cherry is talking to because, right, she’s Cherry’s daughter. Cherry has a daughter, holy shit. Well, so does he. He has to laugh to himself, a little shake to his head.

A lot can certainly happen in seventeen years.

…

The thing that she hadn’t considered in agreeing to Joel Miller’s little deal was that it would still mean seeing a good amount of Joel Miller. Seven o’clock every night to be exact. Actually, ten till, so he did listen, at least. And of course he’s all smiles and charm, and of course her mother invites him in for dinner every night, and of course he says yes, and of course she has to sit across from him, kicking away his foot every time it encroaches on her space.

“So, Joel, are you still over at Thatcher’s full time?” She tries not to scoff at her mother’s question, the subtle turn of her nose and the slight tinge of judgment quirking up the end of her words. Her mother and her penchant for pedigree, something that the Miller family definitively does not have. If it bothers him, however, Joel doesn’t show it, smiling and thumbing the corner of his mouth as he finishes chewing.

“Yes, ma’am, seven days a week.”

“And does that pay well, son?” Ah yes, the one-two tag team of her mother and father both jumping in now, her father doing that thing where he pretends not to know, his eyebrows falling in mock curiosity. When, really, she’s nearly certain he has already calculated in his head exactly how much Joel makes in a week, month, and year busting his ass in that mechanic shop.

“Well, sir, I’ve got no complaints. Roof over my head and food on my table. And, uh, the tips are pretty good.” That one flies right over both her parents’ heads, but he says it looking directly at her, his eyes crinkling up with a smile that only tugs one corner of his mouth, sleaze and smarm. She is well aware of the tips he pulls in from all the bored little housewives and their daughters, something that always seems to be the topic of conversation on the loungers at the community pool.

If he’s trying to get a rise out of her right now, she’s going to make sure he fails at it, giving him a tight-lipped smile and kicking his shin hard under the table where his foot has started to nudge against hers again. Joel lets out a hard cough, the table shaking a bit when his knee jumps up in reaction.

“Alright, son?”

“Yessir, I think all this heat is finally getting to me is all. I better head on home, but thank y’all for the meal, it’s very kind of you.” Her mother frets and fusses over him, insisting he take a tupperware of meatloaf and salad home and telling him to bring Tommy along next time. Great, she thinks, frick and frack both coming for dinner will be double the fun. Though she’s quickly distracted from that thought when her father lets out a long sigh from the head of the table.

“Such a shame that young man is working like that. It’s a waste of potential, honestly.”

“Oh, honey, don’t.”

“I’m serious, Carol. He was always a smart kid, probably could have gone to college, but instead he’s working in that car shop with seemingly no drive for anything more for himself. I just can’t believe Deedee and Hank are letting him carry on like that.” She knows this spiel well. Next her father will angle his chair toward Will and level his finger at him and–

“Will, you know what I was doing when I was Joel’s age?” Will huffs and rolls his eyes, slumping back in his chair like this is the hundredth time he has heard this, probably because it is.

“Getting ready for law school, dad.”

“I was getting ready for– yes, son, that’s right. And now look at me. Beautiful home, beautiful family, and a good job. Do you know what Joel Miller is going to have to show for himself at my age if he keeps going the way he is now?”

“A whole lot of nothing, dad.”

“A whole lot of– yes, son, that’s right. At this rate, he’s probably still going to be living in that shoebox apartment above Thatcher’s when he’s forty.”

“Can I be excused please?” She tries to hold back the contempt snapping through her words, already getting out of her seat before her mother can ask her what’s wrong. For as much as Joel Miller gets on her nerves, she hates this more, this faux pity her father so easily slips into, turning him into a lesson. And not a very good one at that, because while Joel may not be in college or raking in money, he at least seems happy, and she thinks that’s more than her father can say. She knows it’s more than she can say, staring up at the ceiling in her bedroom, this time trying to calculate the minutes until she gets to go back to school. She only makes it through tallying up the rest of June though before something tapping on her window distracts her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hey, Cherry.” He’s lucky her room is on the first floor, or else she would have already shut her window. Though she can’t really do that when he’s standing right there in her mother’s shrubs with a wide grin that glints in the hazy dusk.

“What do you want, Joel?”

“Mikey Donahue is having a party at his house. You wanna come? Have a little fun?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” She goes to shut her window again, but Joel holds it in place, not letting it budge no matter how hard she pushes down on it.

“Oh, c’mon. You used to be fun, what happened to that girl, huh?”

“I grew up, which seems to be more than you can say.”

“Oh, how you wound me, Cherry baby.”

“When are you going to stop calling me that? Nobody else calls me that these days except for you.”

“When you do something funnier than snorting cherry cola out of your nose.” At this point, she has given up on trying to close the window, resting her palms along the sill to lean out so she can whisper yell right into his entirely too smug face.

“I was nine, Joel. And it was your fault for making me laugh that hard.”

“So you admit that I make you laugh?”

“You’re impossible.”

“That wasn’t a no, Cher.” All she can do is huff at him and his relentless grin, taking a moment to look him over. A little more dressed than usual, still in those cut-offs of his, but with an actual flannel shirt on top, sleeves rucked up to his elbows and with a few more buttons undone than what had been during dinner, slipping open even more when he leans down with his hands spread wide on the sill.

“Come on, it’s summer, and I know you’re not having any fun up in Chicago–”

“I have plenty of fun in Chicago.” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead when she interrupts him so quick, the snap of her words telling him just how untrue that statement actually is.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. Just do an old friend a favor, Cherry, and come out with me tonight, huh? Really, it’s the least you can do after you almost busted my balls.”

“I was doing a public good by lessening the chances of little Joel Millers running around here in the future.” He lets out a long laugh at that, tossing his head back, the long line of his neck bobbing with the sound.

“Touché, but fine, if you don’t wanna come I guess I could always go knock on Lisa-Anne’s window. She got home last week.” He knows exactly what he’s doing by saying that, already pushing off the window and starting to walk away. Fine, she thinks, he can go have fun with stupid fucking Lisa-Anne from down the block. It’ll probably make her whole summer considering that she’s had a crush on him since his front teeth came in in the second grade.

“Joel, wait!” He stops dead in his tracks, one foot still stuck in the shrubs outside her window as he turns around, his lips pursed to stave off what she’s sure would be a shit-eating grin. She’s already swinging one leg out of her window, trying to do so with as much grace as she can, though she still stumbles a bit in the shrubs,grabbing onto Joel’s arm to steady herself before quickly letting go with a huff.

“Just for a little while, okay?”

“Whatever you say, Cherry baby.”

…

He’s not sure what the appropriate thing to do is in this situation. Not really any rules of etiquette for seeing a woman you didn’t think you’d ever see again, seventeen years later, and with a kid no less. All he knows is that he can’t let her drive off without saying something, so even as Sarah is calling his name like a question, he’s walking through the ballfield parking lot toward where she’s helping her daughter pack her bags into the trunk of their minivan.

“Uh, hey.” Great start, man, Jesus Christ. She turns around and smiles, smiles, and suddenly it’s summer of ‘86 all over again.

“Woah, old man, back off a little.” And suddenly it is most definitely not summer of ‘86, her kid stepping between the two of them and giving him a look that could kill.

“Ellie, manners please. Why don’t you wait in the car?”

“But, mom–”

“No buts, it’s fine, alright? I’ll just be a minute.” Her daughter, Ellie, huffs, giving him one more squinted look before she shuffles over to the side of the car, getting in with a hard slam of her door.

“So, mom, huh?” She tilts her head at him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans and her shoulders shrugging up.

“It looks that way. And dad?” She jerks her chin over his shoulder and he turns around to see Sarah standing by their car with one hand held over her eyes for shade as she squints at them. She’s never going to let him live this down.

“Looks that way, yeah. Are you– I didn’t– you’re back in town?” He’s trying to subtly look for a ring on her left hand, though her knuckles are still tucked into her jean pockets, and he’s pretty sure squinting at her pelvis is not a good way to make an impression in this unexpected reunion.

“Yeah, we moved back at the start of June.”

“And when you say we, that’s– that’s you and–”

“Just Ellie and I, yep.” He has to try really hard not to smile at that, dragging a palm down his scruff to keep it at bay.

“So you never left, huh?”

“Uh, no, nope. Hopped a few neighborhoods over though. I don’t know if you heard, but the old block got torn down.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was, they put in a bunch of condos over it.”

“Well I guess the times really have changed.” He should probably say something else, should probably get back to Sarah, but he can’t stop looking at her, and it seems like she can’t stop looking at him. Both of them studying all the places that time and life has settled. Her hair is shorter, he likes it, though he probably should keep that to himself. Before he can say anything, however, the blare of a car horn startles them both out of each other’s gaze.

“Mom, let’s go.” Ellie has stuck her head out of the driver side window, the source of their interruption, already tucking back inside the car with another groan. Cherry just shakes her head.

“That’s my cue. I guess we’ll see each other around then, since our daughters are playing in the same league and all.” It still gives him pause, our daughters, and he has to clear his throat before responding.

“I guess so, reckon we’re gonna give the umps a summer to remember.” She laughs, and he remembers that sound, still the same. He didn’t think he’d ever get to hear it again, but now he’s glad that he does.

“For the record, that was a strike.”

“Whatever you say, Cherry.”

“Can’t believe you’re still calling me that.”

“Can’t believe you never did anything funnier than snorting cherry coke out of your nose.” All he gets from her at that is another shake of her head before she turns around to get in her car. Luckily, she doesn’t see the way he runs right into the open trunk of someone else’s car because of the way he’s slowly shuffling backward to get one more look at those jeans of hers from behind. He only realizes that he’s smiling like a fool when he gets into the car and Sarah shoots him a look from the passenger seat.

“Okay, you’re acting weird. Who was that?”

“Just a very old friend.”

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

tags for the moots and folks i think are interested - lmk if you want added or dropped : @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #hungry hearts

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year ago

Note

Hehe I’m here with a dare 😏

So I’m such a sucker for angst but with a happy ending - I’d love to hear how you would go about writing a forced proximity meets the one that got away fic, from what I’ve read of your writing I feel like you’d really do those tropes justice

Alright, Em... let me stretch my fingers and get ready for this one...

I THOUGHT about this.

Ari Levinson

Modern AU - college and then mid-to-late-30s Ari

We're going to call this... er... maybe an "imagine-novella"? It kind of ended up being a 2500-word plot exploration. No content warnings, only some language.

You meet Ari in college. He’s tall and toned and tanned, always in a baseball cap unless forced otherwise, and he’s already sporting a full beard and looking good with it. He’s a couple of years older because he worked out of high school before for a couple of years - long enough to put enough away to pay for tuition without being a burden on his parents. When you meet him, it's when there's the huge club rush out on the quad your junior year. It's in the middle of campus in the first weeks of the semester so everyone does wander through by the nature of when and where it is. You see the table for the radio station on campus. Truthfully you don't even notice him at first. You're standing twenty feet away looking at the sign and thinking about whether or not it's worth it, maybe shake things up, you love music - you're that friend always making the playlists, discovering new songs and bands, dying to go to big music festivals, etc, and your campus has a radio station...

Someone else was talking to him as he's running that table, and they leave and then he sees you standing there, and, "Hey! You!"

It jolts you out of your thoughts and you're caught off guard for just a half a second, and go, "Me?"

He grins, "Yeah, you."

Your feet move before you even really think about it because ... that's just what you do when people call you over. It’s an instant crush for you but you try and reign it in, because he's excited that you're actually interested in the station, and you genuinely are excited about it. He's a Journalism and Communications major and the station manager, and so he gives you the pitch to come to an info meeting they're going to have, he'd love to see you there.

And you do go. Because... it doesn't matter that he's cute. The more you keep thinking about it, you decide it would actually be fun. You get a show, you make a lot of new friends with the other station people - some of them are total nerds, but they're all fun or nice or a little bit irreverent, and so station meetings once a month are fun. You're a good DJ. You have fun with your shows. Ari takes note - he appreciates it. The station is his baby. He puts everything into it. He's not outgoing, even though he's charismatic, but he can't help but gravitate to the people who really fucking love it like him. You don't get to know him super well that first year, but when it's time for him to appoint new directors to run the station the next year, he pulls you aside and says he loves what you've done with your show and wants you to think about applying for a director position.

You do. It's going to be your last year of college, the DJ gig hasn't been work, it's just been fun, and ... you love being part of the team, love to work on exciting projects, dig your hands into the dirt and make something great, so yeah. You throw your hat in the ring, because why not? And it could be an extra thing to go on your grad school applications.

Ari not only picks you for the team, he actually ends up picking you to be the director of programming, his number two, the one who oversees the DJs and putting together the roster for shows each semester. And that's what launches everything to a new level.

You lock down DJs that you want to come back the next fall, you both go away for the summer, but now you're texting somewhat regularly about ideas for the next year, things you'll work on, and the real working friendship develops. When fall semester starts and it's full speed on the ground, you and the team of directors really work to make the station great, but it's A LOT of you and Ari.

And to say he becomes one of your best friends senior year? Maybe. You tread that line because there's still that part of your heart that crushes on him, but the part that loves doing everything station and music and working on this big beast together? That's big. You let that be the focus. Because it's fun. And he's fun. And he's brilliant (like you, which is why he likes you) and ambitious (like you) and he's got this great, rich laugh that you get to hear a lot. And a lot of your other friends are busy with their senior years, too, and so are you, and so you don't mind any of the time you spend working on the station with Ari and the other directors and the DJs who are just this pack of a couple dozen people who come and go. But a lot of you and Ari.

And he doesn't date anyone. Not the entire time you know him. You heard/thought maybe there were some hook ups he indulged in during your junior year, but not that year before you both graduate. He clearly doesn't have time for a girlfriend and doesn't love anything more than the station, but you do think - just a little bit - just in the back of your head sometimes - that maybe you don't hear about him with anyone this year because... he's not going to date you - that would be unprofessional for you two and the station - but maybe it's because you are close. And maybe as you get closer to the end of the year... maybe he's going to make a move. He's always said he's already a confirmed old bachelor, but the way he smiles at you, the way he values your opinion, how often he says how amazing you are and how he appreciates you... you're going to be the girl who finally gets him.

But time is running out. And even though you both pour your hearts into the station together, there are never any late nights (those are given to studying, passing classes, etc). The last month, he says stuff like he's never going to see any of you again. Jokingly. You all laugh as directors because how could he mean it? He's made you all a family.

He makes more comments like that in the last weeks and days, and when he says he's going to shut down all of his social media, because he only had it to run and promote the station, you call him on his bullshit. And he says no. He's serious. He's going to go into journalistic photography, and he's going to create the network he needs where he needs it, but he's not playing the PR games to do it - the dream is wild nature photography, work in remote locations, never talk to humans again if he can help it. And it's so stupid. You tell Ari he's being ridiculous. He can't want to live so far off the grid.

"I'm sorry," he says, kindly but matter-of-factly. "But when we graduate, I'm never talking to any of you ever again."

You scoff. But this conversation is now just you and him in the station on a Saturday afternoon. But then you look at him for a half a second and really see his face. And you think he means it. "Ari, I did not give my fucking heart and soul into this station for the last year as your friend for you to never talk to me again. You at least owe me a lunch five years from now."

He smiles. "Okay. Maybe in five years. You find me in five years and I promise I'll take you to lunch."

And you graduate a week later, and he says goodbye, and you're not sad about it. Maybe just a bit wistful for what might have been. But after that specific "five years" conversation, you realize it was only you who was maybe a bit foolishly hopeful. He'd really never led you on. You never told him you had a crush (you had tried to keep it professional, because you did genuinely love the friendship) and he'd never given you or anyone else any illusion that he was there for anything other than working on the station and that bonding and camaraderie. If he had led you on, if there had been late nights, maybe you would've been hurt. But aside from being secretly hopeful, there really wasn't much harm done by your pining. But maybe in five years, you'll look him up for that lunch he agreed to.

He does fall off the gridl You take a busy summer job and then a paid internship in the fall, and you try and track him a bit, but you do just… get busy and move forward. You think of Ari a lot, but less and less as the time goes on. You know the name of the newspaper he was going to start off with right after graduation, and although he got rid of social media, he did have a beautiful website he set up for his photography. And you check that once in a while, but less and less. You get a fulltime job after the internship, and your life becomes even more full with the things that aren’t Ari, and sometimes you think about him, but most times you don’t.

When that five years rolls around, you start to think of him more again.

But you let it come and go.

You didn’t necessarily feel like you were living your best life, and if you were going to get one lunch to win over the one who got away and make him realize you were the love of his life… maybe you’d feel a little better – a little more accomplished, go to the gym more, be really something – in ten years.

Fleeting thought in ten years. Though you do think of him when you realize it’s that ten year mark. And you just kind of smile because ten years ago you was so wildly for him, and five years ago you was still a touch foolishly hopeful, and wouldn’t it be something if you did look him up now? But you really don’t need to anymore.

Then a couple of years later, you move to a new place, and without ever even trying, who else should somehow be living two doors down from you but Ari fucking Levinson?

And he sees you first. He’s just gotten home, opened the door from the garage into the house to be reunited with his good girl – a beautiful golden retriever who’s waited for him all day, walked with her trotting along at his side out to his mailbox, and looks down the street to see who’s just sending off the movers out of curiosity for who’s moving into the neighborhood, and he does a fucking double take because it’s you.

His god damn jaw drops and he laughs and then calls out your name.

You turn, hardly believing it but knowing that voice anywhere, and you laugh and shake your head. “Ari Levinson?”

You push the messy hair from the long day’s work of moving out of your face and are glad you’re not besotted for this man anymore, even if he does look like even more of an Adonis now, because you do know you look a mess, but you don’t even care. Having moved out of state for this dream job, you couldn’t be any more happy just to have someone from your past right at your new home base.

“’Of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world!’”

He meets you halfway, and he pauses a beat away from you because he’s not a hugger, but somehow there’s just this draw to hug you, and so he does. Only surprising to you for a second, but you’re so tired and it’s been a good day but a long day, and you were excited for this move, but you can’t deny a familiar face just feels good, so you melt into him just for the comfort of it for a moment. It’s just nice.

And when you pull back, the obedient but attentive dog draws your attention, lighting your face up with a beautiful grin. “Can I pet your dog?!”

But the two of you are already drawn to each other and bonding before he gets the, “Sure, of course,” out of his mouth.

He doesn’t wear those old baseball caps every day anymore, so he pushes his hand through his hair, and that move has practically made women drop their panties for him over the years, but you don’t even notice, too busy showering affection on his sweet golden girl while the two of you exchange the kind of words two of the oldest friends do when they haven’t seen each other in ages. Why is his chest so tight and warm all at once. Why does he have the thought cross his mind that you showing up here feels like home? Why are you falling in love with his dog and not with him? Wait, why did he think that?

This feels like a slippery slope.

But maybe he doesn’t fucking care.

When he is back inside his house, starting to pull something from the fridge to heat up for dinner, he remembers that he promised you a dinner.

It’s later than you two made the deal for, but… he’ll start there.

Just old friends who are new neighbors.

That night when he’s plugging his phone in to charge before bed, he remembers that he never did get rid of your contact in his phone. You might have the same number.

What he doesn’t know is that when he left the harbor, sure, you waited with that boat hopefully for a bit, but then you finally took your ship and sailed – everywhere really – and you may be eager to fall happily in love with his dog and genuinely grateful to know you’ll have someone in your corner on this new adventure, but you want nothing more than that good friendship in your life. He was one of your greatest friends all those years ago. But you finally got over that pining crush, and here’s no way you’ll be foolish enough to fall for him again, nor do you want to. You couldn’t ask for more than to have your old friend as your new neighbor, with his gorgeous golden retriever.

Ari does text you that night… just a welcome to the neighborhood again, and that he thinks he owes you a dinner, if he remembers correctly (he does, he’s just being casually clever), so he’s gotta take you out tomorrow night.

And it is still the same number, but you fell into the blissful rest of your bed, exhausted after move in day, so you don’t even see it that night. It will wait until you get to it in the morning.

Just like Ari will have to wait for what he wants. And work to try to even bring you around again.

Will he have waited too long and you’ll be the one who got away?

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson imagine #aspen's extended anniversary sleepover #em/writing for marvel #sleepover dare

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blkdaddie · 4 months ago

Text

The Births of Hip-Hop

The air buzzed with anticipation, thick with the scent of street food and the rhythm of countless conversations. The stage, a colossal testament to fifty years of Hip Hop, stood at the center of the park, bathed in a kaleidoscope of lights. Thousands of fans, from old-school purists to the youngest enthusiasts, gathered to celebrate a culture that had shaped generations.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the first beats of the night reverberated through the crowd, signaling the start of an unforgettable evening. Iconic DJs and dancers took turns electrifying the audience, their movements and mixes paying homage to Hip Hop's evolution. But it was the sight of several visibly pregnant male performers that truly captivated everyone.

The headliner, a legendary rapper known as King Mic, stepped forward, his hand resting protectively on his pronounced belly. The crowd erupted into cheers, their admiration palpable. Mic raised a hand, signaling for quiet. His voice, seasoned by years of spitting bars and dropping wisdom, echoed through the speakers.

"Yo, yo, yo! Thank you, family, for showing up tonight! Fifty years of Hip Hop, can you believe it?" The crowd roared in response. "We've dedicated our lives to this culture, to this music. We've given it our sweat, our tears, and our blood. And now, we're here to give birth to the next generation, literally and metaphorically."

His words resonated, a powerful metaphor for the legacy they had built and were continuing to build. As the night progressed, each act brought their unique flavor to the stage. DJ Spin, known for his turntable mastery, spun tracks with one hand while the other cradled his round stomach. His movements were fluid, his energy infectious, despite the extra weight he carried.

Midway through the concert, another performer, MC Rhythm, took the mic. His belly stretched the fabric of his shirt, a testament to the life growing inside him. He smiled broadly, the crowd's energy fueling him. "This ain't just about music," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "It's about family, about legacy. Hip Hop taught me how to be strong, how to survive, and now, it's teaching me how to nurture and bring new life into this world."

The audience was spellbound, the connection between the performers and their fans deepening with each word. The night was a tapestry of beats, rhymes, and the shared experience of life and growth. The pregnant performers embodied the essence of Hip Hop—resilience, creativity, and the power to bring something new into the world.

As the final act took the stage, the crowd's excitement reached a fever pitch. The lights dimmed, and a single spotlight illuminated the center. King Mic returned, joined by all the performers from the night. They stood together, a united front, each one a pillar of Hip Hop's enduring legacy.

"Tonight, we celebrate fifty years of Hip Hop," Mic declared, his voice unwavering. "And we look forward to the future, to the new generation we're bringing into this world. Hip Hop is family, and family is everything."

The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers blending with the beats that had defined the night. The concert ended with a final, powerful performance, the music a heartbeat that connected everyone present. It was a night of celebration, of legacy, and of the unbreakable bond between Hip Hop and its people. As the last notes faded into the night, the future of Hip Hop shone brightly, carried forward by those who had given it life and those who would continue its story.

#pregnant man #mpreg #mpreg story #mpreg kink #mpreg birth #mpreg belly #ai art

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nyaagolor · 2 years ago

Text

Team Star Headcanons

This got dummy long so it's under the cut but I am rotating them all in my brain

Giacomo

Despite having the most stereotypical "delinquent" appearance of all the members, Giacomo is actually the closest thing to a model student that Team Star has. He's extremely organized, motivated, and actually pretty staunchly against breaking the rules unless he has to, so he's a straight A student and has never missed a class

However, he still has a little bit of apprehension about appearing to be like the uptight student council president he used to be, so he purposefully does things to make people think he's more of a slacker than he actually is. He turns in assignments after the deadline and shows up to class late so the teachers don't start getting expectations of him, but they quickly realize he's doing it on purpose when all assignments are turned in exactly 24 hours late and he shows up exactly 5 minutes after the bell with obvious consistency

He was student council president during much of the bullying of Team Star, and still beats himself up about not noticing it sooner or putting a stop to it until the consequences were right in front of him

He was and is the most uptight member of Team Star despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor. He's prone to over-planning, panicking when plans don't work out, and overall is pretty bad at improvising. He's far more high-strung than he lets on. Team Star has done a lot to mellow him out and give him the freedom to express himself, screw up without consequence, and just chill for a few. He's much happier now without the pressure

He loves bass-boosted, ear-splitting music and flashing DJ lights, but is also aware that many people have issues with those (including his buddy Atticus). Bc of that he always has a grunt check with any new members or would-be foes to make sure they don't have overstimulation or photosensitivity issues. Someone getting hurt during a rave would, in his words, "kill the vibe"

He's trying SO HARD to be lofi girl

Mela

She's naturally very cute: she has strawberry blond hair, wide blue eyes, freckles, a dainty stature, a high-pitched voice, and isn't very good at most school subjects. It makes her instantly endearing to basically everyone who meets her, but it also means many people find her annoying / frustrating off the bat and/or don't take her seriously, which really bothered her and lead to her very carefully curated Bad Girl appearance

Mela is very easily frustrated and has a hair trigger temper, which her bullies often used to antagonize her. They purposefully riled her up and caused her to lash out, so Mela gained a reputation as a troublemaker from the teachers. This caused her to fall further behind in school and exacerbated the previous issues

To get people to leave her alone, Mela created a very curated, if inauthentic, "bad girl" persona where she made herself look and act immediately aggressive and rude to everyone. If she didn't let anyone know anything about her, they couldn't find things to set her off anymore, and she'd avoid all the bullying. It did actually work, and people left her alone, but she ended up becoming so feared that she had no friends and no one wanted to be around her. She ended up hanging out with all the academy pokemon instead and developing a close bond with each of them.

Even after she comes back to the Academy she struggles the most out of all the students to fit back into things-- she comes across as a "problem child" which gives the teachers expectations that eventually become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's only after a long, heated discussion with Clavell that they can start to work past her snippy exterior and get to the heart of the matter. When the teachers give her more patience and extra help, however, they grow to realize she actually does care about learning and is quite sweet

She loves making art. She is also not very good at making art. At the start, she's pretty defensive about it, but is shocked to find the students in art club are extremely welcoming and compliment her work, which makes her beyond happy and extremely motivated to keep trying. Those art club members end up becoming her first non-team-star friends in a long time, and she always brings them out to the courtyard so that her pokemon friends can pose and model for them to draw

She gets really really red when she's embarrassed. Her old, derogatory nickname was "the red-hot girl" because of her temper, but Team Star only ever uses it to joke about how she flushes now

Atticus

Low-hanging fruit here but this man has autism. He cannot read the mood of a room to save his life, and has been known to make extended, sometimes uncomfortable eye contact with whoever he happens to be talking to. He once infodumped to Giacomo about Phoenician Purple for three hours

His speech patterns are partially because of his extreme interest in history and partially because he finds older prose to be more precise in meaning than modern day slang. He is very clear about saying exactly what he means and being extremely specific, so he finds modern day slang with all its double meanings to be hard to follow and hard to articulate his thoughts with. Older prose has these same issues, but no one tell him that

He struggles to pay attention to things unless his hands are busy. Teachers often wondered if he was paying attention in class while sketching designs or sewing things, but it actually helps him focus better

His three greatest skills are his fashion design, his flexibility, and his skill as a nail artist. He can make you the most dazzling star of the school prom and then do a standing backflip when he's done

Atticus cares very little about social conventions or expectations. It worries people like Penny, who fears it makes him a target for bullying because he is so outwardly strange, but it's honestly fine by him. Despite receiving some pretty horrible treatment at the hands of his bullies in the past, he's bothered very little by it, and cares even less about what people think of him now. He has good friends all around him, so if people think he's weird that's on them; he's gonna keep doing what he wants whether or not it gives him a reputation

Atticus is easily the most mentally stable of anyone in the group. Nothing bothers this man whatsoever; he is thriving and in his lane. Despite this, however, he is never asked for advice because he only gives it in Shakespearean riddles

Ortega

He is an exceptional mechanic, and with the help of Atticus has actually made far more impressive vehicles than even the Starmobiles. His pride and joy is a pastel pink bedazzled motorcycle with a sidecar for his Dacsbund. He can't actually drive it because he's 12 and doesn't have a license, but still

All his mechanic tools are covered in rhinestones and his jumpsuit is pastel pink. He is also a straight, cis man, he just personally beat gender roles unconscious with his gold-encrusted staff. He would have kicked it too, but that would ruin his dress shoes and he's too classy for that

He's sassy and snarky, but it's not a defense mechanism like Mela or a consequence of social isolation like Penny, he's just kind of a brat. Team Star has done a lot to humble him and get him to understand the ~value of friendship~ but he was and still kind of is a spoiled little demon

In terms of raw intelligence, Ortega might be the smartest person in Team Star. He's skipped a few grades, excels at basically everything he sets his mind to, and couples it with pretty high emotional intelligence too. If anyone needs help with homework and is willing to swallow their pride enough to ask, he'll easily be able to help

Ortega has excellent dexterity, which makes him a fantastic piano player and quite good at working with very fine machinery. He also got really into baton twirling at one point because he thought it looked cool, so he can do lots of really neat tricks with his staff and pens and whatnot. He loves to bask in the attention that the grunts give him whenever he shows off (which is often. He LOVES showing off)

He has no patience for anything whatsoever. Eri has to hold him back like a rabid chihuahua every time they go somewhere because he is very used to being waited on constantly. Rich boy rehabilitation

Eri

Every one and their mother hcs this but [points at Carmen] Lesbians. Carmen and Eri are genuinely THE power couple; they’re both smart and gorgeous and well-liked by everyone. Carmen is still shocked Eri didn’t snap her like a toothpick bc it would have been deserved but Eri is just that nice. Stop bullies by kissing them so good they realize they like girls

Everyone else in team star stays up until ungodly hours for assorted reasons but Eri is up at like 5 so she can work out for two hours before class. She’s a little disappointed no one wants to join in her workouts but that’s ok! They need their rest. The benefit of Eri’s workouts is that she can carry a team star member on each arm like one of those muscle dudes on the beach, and she does, bc it’s cool

She’s a luchadora! She plays a heel named La Princesa in Paldean wrestling tournaments but it’s an open secret that she’s super sweet out of the ring and always treats her opponents to ice cream afterwards. Genuine treat to be suplexed by her. Despite being able to, she would NEVER hurt someone for real

Atticus had to tailor her outfits bc they didn’t fit. She’s like 6’, curvy, and built like a tractor trailer, so she cannot wear unisex shirts without ripping the damn sleeves off. She’s very kyaa about it. Very >o< about it

Cries during kid’s movies. And ASPCA commercials. And most things actually. The power of friendship does and has moved her to tears. She is mesmerized by the beauty of the world

She gives the best hugs

Penny

Another popular hc but (gestures vaguely at Penny's everything) transfemme. She has the dysphoria hoodie, the six cats, the cybercrime, the depression nest, whatever is going on with her hair, etc. She got sent to "study abroad" and went on HRT I will stand by this until the end of time. She washes down her progesterone with monster energy. Gamer girl. I bet she even plays Bloodborne

Has severe social anxiety / trauma that stemmed from the bullying and just got significantly worse over time. She orders all her groceries online and has them delivered, so she never has to leave her room and does most of her stuff remotely. If / when she does go outside, it's always at weird hours so she doesn't run into anyone. The mere prospect of going into the cafeteria around lunchtime is mortifying to her. wayyyyy too many people. Her anxiety is significantly worse in the academy, and she's able to function better outside of it

She has support systems for days. Aside from her new friends Nemona / Arven / the protag, she has Team Star, Clavell, an actual therapist, a xanax prescription, and six emotional support veevees. Team Star especially does a lot to help reintroduce her to classes and get over the worst of her anxiety so she can go back to school-- and it works! She becomes much more open, less stressed, and happier postgame as she and her friends help each other out

Penny's dad is super supportive but also super embarrassing about it. He is the ultimate trans rights guy but also wears neon rainbow shirts that say "ALLY" in big letters. Penny kept the worst of the bullying a secret from him because there is zero doubt in my mind he would just roll up to the bullies' houses and beat the crap out of them. He WILL throw hands with a 13 year old if they upset his little girl and he is not afraid to admit that. I'm hyping up this man so bad

Penny is an only child (or younger sibling if u hc Peony to be her dad) but has so, SO many cousins who are constantly doting on her. She is quick to try and retreat to her room during reunions and whatnot because she's easily overwhelmed by the attention, but it all gets better postgame. She ends up dragging Arven to her house for the holidays because he doesn't have a proper family and the cousins are completely enamored with him. He's polite, he's happy to help with the cooking, he has a cute dog... Penny's family is absolutely delighted she has such a good friend and Arven is more than happy to soak up all that familial attention. It's a good exchange

She is an insanely picky eater. Arven is taking this as a challenge, and is always trying to make new sandwiches that she likes. Seeing as Nemona and the protagonist would probably eat salami off the floor if given the opportunity, getting a good review from Penny in particular always boosts his ego. He's also made it his mission to sneak in new ingredients in the hopes of expanding her absolutely atrocious palette. It's not going well, but damn if he isn't trying

#pokemon sv #penny #giacomo #mela #atticus #ortega #eri #team star #headcanons

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poussacha · 20 days ago

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My Maxley Fics Masterpost

✨🎆the rise and fall of a midwest love affair series

[the man, the myth, the legend. The series I'm writing based on Chappell Roan's Midwest Princess Album. A story for most tracks (some of them are mashups).]

[This series does not need to be read in order whatsoever, they're all independent of one another (allegedly)]

hit it like it's hot to go

Rated E | F/F Genderbent Maxley | 17,477 Words | Complete

Summary: It’s pitch black and from the booth she can only really make out flashes of light and a writhing mass of bodies. Their voices lift to sing in unison with the music she’s broadcasting while their bodies undulate like live wires.

This is the part she loves most about playing in clubs. The drunken, writhing mass of voices that lend her their ears. They listen to her heavy-handed remixes, her mash-ups, her house beats all without a single complaint. For a moment, she controls their narrative, holding them captive with a beat.

She’s three quarters of the way through her set when her least favorite part about playing in clubs rears its ugly head. In the form of a wasted brunette with long curly hair and a sneer.

“Can you play a song with a fucking beat ?”

Max is a DJ at a club Brittney (Bradley) frequents with her finance bro boyfriend. Brittney tries her damndest to be obnoxious. Max might just be endeared toward her anyway.

Tags: DJ AU, homophobic slurs, minor violence from a fist fight, internalised homophobia, lesbians, jumpscare het sex, man attacking a woman, implied/referenced domestic abuse, explicit sexual content, degradation kink, vers characters, praise kink, tongue piercings, angst, heartbreak, cheating, genderbent

Song: Femininomenon To Go Mashup

Playlist(s):

hit it like it's hot to go (official)

After Midnight

Rated T | M(IN)/F College AU (Trans Masc!Intersex!Bradley x Cis!Fem! Max) | 104,757 Words | Incomplete, ongoing

Updates on all days ending on 7 and on most days that are multiples of 7

Summary: It’s Max’s first year at university. She arrives on campus with her two best friends PJ and Bobby in Bobby’s beat up sleeper van from the 1970s that reeks of musk, weed, and boy sweat. She doesn’t know yet what this year has in store, but she hopes it’s something to remember.

Bradley is in his final year in law school. Just trying to graduate, pass the bar, and move on with his life. That is, until someone comes along to change his perspective.

Tags: CHEATING, INFIDELITY, AGE GAP, College AU, genderbent, fem!Max Goof, fem!PJ Pete, masc!Bobby Zimmeruski, fem!Roxanne Rover, fem!Stacey, trans!Bradley Uppercrust III, intersex!Bradley Uppercrust III, masc!Tank, no x-games, underage drinking, marijuana use, falling asleep in precarious situations, fist fight, harrassment, masturbation, shotgunning, fishing trips, San Francisco, indulgent touching, body worship, body dysmorphia, semi-nudity, tws at the top of every chapter

Song: After Midnight

Playlist(s):

After Midnight (Official)

Gamma Mu Mu House Party Playlist

& if you let me, i would've loved you always

California

Rated E | M/M Doctor!Bradley x Disabled!Dancer!Max AU | 18,851 Words | Incomplete

WARNING: DUB-CON, DEAD DOVE

Summary: Max Goof is at the prime of his life. He’s finally realized his dream of becoming the main dancer and choreographer for his favorite singer of all time, Powerline. That is, until an accident brings everything crashing down in an instant.

Leading to him to return home to Ohio, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

Will he find peace back home with his dad? Or will being back in Ohio only complicate things more?

Tags: blow jobs, bathroom sex, public sex, disabling incident, characters with disabilities, ableism, toxic relationships, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, incomplete spinal cord injury, polyamory, angst, wheelchair user max goof, canonically disabled della duck, discussions of medical insurance, allusions to drug abuse, eating disorders, slow burn, EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT, DUBIOUS MORALITY, POWER IMBALANCE, semi-public sex, prostate examinations, erectile dysfunction

Song: California

Playlist(s):

i'm never gonna get the things i want the most

🐩Standalone Maxley Fics

i just wanna sweet talk for awhile

Rated E | M/M Canon Divergent Post X-Games AU | 2,975 Words | Complete

Summary: They were always fighting. Two sides diametrically opposed. Except, as perfect opposites, they find themselves pulled together like magnets. Until they can't deny their chemistry.

Tags: fluff, self indulgent, frottage, frotting, inexperienced bradley uppercrust iii, experienced max goof, bottom bradley uppercrust iii, top max goof, soft boys, shockingly gentle to be something written by me, body worship, gentle words

Song: Sugar High

take it like a taker

Rated E | M/M Canon Divergent Post X-Games BDSM AU | 5,777 Words | Complete

Summary: Bradley's breath is quiet, measured. Muscles tensing beneath Max's fingertips, illuminated by the warm orange glow of candlelight, as he deftly loops ropes in simple patterns around his upper thigh and ankle. Until his legs bend open, splayed

His wrists are next. A simple double column across both arms and up through the center. OR

The shibari and wax play fic nobody asked for

Tags: shibari, wax play, porn without plot, BDSM, dom max, sub bradley, hurt/comfort, sub drop, panic, aftercare, bradley is the biggest brat, humans because getting wax out of fur sounded painful, max might be a brat tamer if you squint, self-indulgent, body worship, rimming

Song: The Giver

🐕🐩🐕‍🦺Braxanne (Bradley/Max/Roxanne) OT3 Fics

i'm so obsessed with your ex

Rated E | M/M/F Mean Girls/Swap AU (Boy Next Door!Bradley x Homeschooled!Max x Queen Bee!Roxanne) | 19,324 Words | Complete

Summary: Max moves to Spoonerville after spending his formative years traveling around the world with his dad and his stepmom to study weather phenomena. Specifically lightning storms. He runs into a bit of a storm himself when Brad Uppercrust and Roxanne Rover both take a liking to him at the same time.

Tags: Mean Girls AU if you squint, Brad is the boy next door, Roxxane is the Queen Bee, this a brad and roxanne swap AU, surprise, max is a virgin, roxanne wants him bibilically, so does brad, brad and roxanne are bitter (?) exes, halloween parties, threesomes, explicit sex, teasing, praise kink, multiple orgasms, underage drinking, everyone is 18, but this takes place in the us so, MMF threesome

Song: Obsessed

Playlist(s):

i'm so obsessed with your ex

🛹⭐Sw00ney Brobert Swap AU fics (not maxley)

Brad Crust x Robert Zimmeruski

More from the Swap AU here on Sw00ney's ig

bite your tongue or i'll do it for you

Rated E | M/M | 2,007 Words | Complete

Summary: Brad convinced Robert to do something stupid again, this is the aftermath of their latest near-death experience.

Tags: they're so unhinged in this, degradation kink, brat on deck, going in dry, sort of, begging, wacky power dynamics, dirty talk, they're so mean to each other, but it's love i swear, established relationship, robert is a rich boy, brad's just a teenage dirtbag baby, i had too much fun writing this

Song: Good Hurt

Art for this fic by kofiracha!

beautiful boy, your words are made of poetry

Rated E | M/M | 1,457 Words | Incomplete

Summary: Bobby comes over to yell at Brad for something he (allegedly) didn't do only to find him suffering from an intense migraine.

Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: slow updates, migraines, hurt/comfort

Song: Sugar High

🐱‍🏍🐛Other AEGM fics (that aren't maxley)

Bobby x Max

open our bodies, i quietly knock on your door

Rated E | M/M (Trans!Masc!Max x Cis!Masc!Bobby) | 1,902 Words | Complete

Summary: "Fuck," Max says, coughing a little at the tail end of his latest hit. His voice echoes in his head, making him feel like he's at the crossroads of a hundred different timelines. Consciousness dipping and floating through each. Like he's the doorway of time. "What did you say this was?"

"OG Blueberry Creme," Bobby drawls, voice slow like syrup. He takes the blunt when Max passes it back to him, raising it to his lips to take another hit. "One of my all-time favorite highs, man."

Bobby and Max get high and fool around in his van. That's it, that's the fic.

Tags: porn without plot, explicit sex, cum play, marijuana use, having sex under the influence, established relationship, van sex, trans Max Goof

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tuxedo-lef · 3 months ago

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fabinelli headcanons

strangers to friends to lovers is their main trope but obviously it would be fun to play around with other ones

90% of the time Gabi is very sweet and kind with Fabio but 10% of the time he will be a menace (lowkey sadistic) and fluster Fabio by teasing him or like being mean in the bedroom...

They like to watch anime and other tv shows together (yes, this is based off that dragon ball fusion celebration).

They're also Disney adults.

Fabio is always very supportive of Gabi and so is Gabi of Fabio. The difference is that Gabi HATES when Fabio sells himself short (see video where Gabi tells' Fabio not to say that his goal was due to luck and explained to the press that Fabio had practiced that shot many times in training)

Gabi is a scaredy cat and likes it when Fabio stays over to sleep.

Fabio is a bit insecure about his English. Frankly, he prefers speaking Portuguese (he even said Portuguese was his favourite school subject!). Gabi is much more of a sponge and picks up the language easily so Fabio often makes Gabi speak for both of them when they're out and about in London.

Gabi is terrible in the kitchen. Fabio does most of the cooking.

Fabio would be the one to find a stray cat and bring it home but Gabi would be the one to fall in love with a puppy at a shelter and adopt it on the spot.

Fabio has the worst sleep schedule but Gabi is the most difficult when it comes to waking up early.

They both hate the UK weather and complain about the cold all the time. But they also love to cuddle and warm each other up after a rainy practice.

Gabi is the only one who can tease Fabio about his Portugal Portuguese. The other Brazilian Portuguese speakers on the team know not to make jokes about it anymore after Gabi stole their phone for half a day because of it.

Fabio is more likely to get horny during practice when watching Gabi mover around the pitch, but Gabi is more likely to get horny at home when Fabio is doing the most mundane tasks around the house.

Fabio buys a lot of plants to make the house feel more like a home but Gabi is the only one who remembers to water them.

They are both quite neat and rarely argue about practical things.

BUT! Gabi does get in trouble whenever he brings Win the dog back home because she sheds a lot on their white furniture.

Although Fabio isn't a bad driver, Gabi is usually the one who drives. Fabio likes to do the DJ in the car and is the type to sing along (as long as the song is in Portuguese).

Fabio is the one who confesses first but Gabi would be the one who proposes.

Before they start dating, there's definitely a moment where everyone around them teases them for being together all the time (everyone thinks they're dating but they're not trope). Both of them start to consciously make an effort to spend more time with other players (or they'll do stuff like forcing Wilo to sit between them during team meetings). They get all sad about this new distance between them Gabi breaks first and sulks hard and long enough to make Fabio cave in.

#fabinelli #fabio vieira #gabriel martinelli #football rpf #headcanon

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mello-t-befan · 9 months ago

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youtube

The video accompanying this project (turn the english subtitles ON ^^)

If, like me, you grew up watching the animated series of the 2000s, those broadcast on Disney Channel should be among your favorites. There was a bit of everything : spin-offs for the films of this experimental period of the studios, "Kim Possible" for the adventurers among us, "Buzz Lightyear of Star Command" for space-opera fans and urban fantasy fans were entitled to "American Dragon: Jake Long" !

In my new pitch, the world would be mostly like how it is in the original series. Except that not all dragons have the charge of a specific territory. This is the role of the Dragon Protectors, trained and formed to defend magical beings and humans from each other. And if a Potential is particularly worthy, then the Great Council of Dragons designates them as some place's Protector and entrusts them to a familiar spirit, in charge of assisting them in their task. Under the tutelage of his maternal grandfather, Jake Long learns to control his dragon powers in New-York City so that he can become its Protector in the future. And as in the original series, it will be a semi-follow up story in which Jake will become aware of the responsibilities of a Dragon Protector, learn more about the magical world and face the setbacks of the transition to adulthood.

Name : Jake Long Age : 13 Occupations : middle-schooler, dragon in training Territory : New-York City Power/Abilities : acrobatics, skateboarding, dancing, transformation, ochre-colored flames, sharp senses, improvisation, flying, fighting Likes : skating, rap, hanging out with his pals, winning, his family, magical beings Hates : studying, losing, bullies/show-offs, his loved ones being hurt, the Huntsclan, the Dark Dragon

To read how I would rewrite him, just check the pitch ^^

Name : Luong Lao Shi Age : 60s Occupations : electronics store owner, ex-Dragon Protector Territory : Hong Kong (formerly) Power/Abilities : transformation, white flames, sharp senses, flying, fighting, magical knowledge, tinkering Likes : his family, magical beings, reading, disco Hates : his loved ones being hurt, the Huntsclan, the Dark Dragon, insolence, scammers, bad drivers Name : Fu Dog Age : 600 (approx.) Occupations : ex-familiar, pet/therapy dog Dragon charge : Luong Lao Shi Power/Abilities : speech, bipedal walk, magical knowledge, alchemy, bargaining, spying Likes : his family, magical beings, betting, winning his bets, romance, enjoying life Hates : his loved ones being hurt, the Huntsclan, the Dark Dragon, losing his bets, having debts, getting scammed, talking about the past

In my new pitch, Lao Shi is the former Protector Dragon of Hong Kong and Fu Dog was his familiar spirit. Except that after being seriously injured in his duel against the Dark Dragon, Lao Shi had to stop everything and Fu Dog was deprived of most of his powers for not having properly protected Lao Shi. Years later, as Jake shows that he inherited the dragon powers from their family, Lao Shi decides to train him to become the New York Protector Dragon and be ready should the Dark Dragon ever return. But is he really doing it to protect Jake, or is he doing it for revenge... ?

Name : Trixie "Trix" Carter Age : 13 Occupations : middle-schooler, DJ in training Territory : New-York City Power/Abilities : acrobatics, skateboarding, dancing, music mixing, improvisation, marketing Likes : her family, skating, being DJ, rap, hanging out with her pals Hates : her loved ones being hurt, biology, bullies/show-offs, stereotypes Name : Arthur "Spud" Spudinski Age : 13 Occupations : middl-schooler, busboy Territory : New-York City Power/Abilities : acrobatics, skateboarding, dancing, computer science, research, improvisation Likes : his family, skating, eating, rap, hanging out with his pals Hates : his loved ones being hurt, proving his intelligence, bullies/show-offs

In my new pitch, Trixie would be the band’s main music fan and would be the amateur DJ at the school parties; so I gave her a headset. For Spud I want to take the "lazy and weird but brilliant" approach. Namely that he pretends to be an average student -AVERAGE, not stupid- to camouflage his intellect known only to Jake and Tracy. That doesn’t stop him from playing with the school machines to have fun anonymously. The both of them will be Jake’s best friends since elementary school and then his partners once informed of his magical identity. Moreover, they will guarantee a certain simplicity/normality in the regime sometimes too strict to which Lao Shi submits him.

Name : Rose Age : 14 Occupations : middle-schooler, Huntsmaster's ward and apprentice Territory : New-York City Power/Abilities : acrobatics, combat, improvisation, weapons handling, dancing, acting Likes : reading, acting, variety music, being with friends Hates : magical beings, dragons, suck-ups, broccoli

In my new pitch, I would like to focus a little more on her heel-face turn. Rose grew up in hatred and disgust of magical beings, who were always designated as natural errors by the Huntsclan. Especially Dragons who, with their power of transformation, are insults to Humanity -from the Hunters' point of view, I mean. She's therefore convinced to act in the interest of mankin by helping these genocidal poachers. And when she learns that the boy for whom she developed a little crush is actually one of those monsters she was taught to kill on sight, you can imagine that her vision of life and the rest collapses in a huge crash. Will Rose accept to change her vision of things, or will she sink into the darkness she's always known ?

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respectthepetty · 11 months ago

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15 Questions

Tagged by @italianpersonwithashippersheart and @pandasmagorica

1. are you named after anyone?

Yes. First name is after my cousin's imaginary friend because my parents were wild. Middle name is after the song I was conceived to because my parents were really wild.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Externally? I joke that I haven't cried since 2009, but I really think that is the last time I cried. Internally? Every single fucking day.

3. do you have kids?

Oh, Lord, no.

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

Basketball, volleyball (horrible at it), fast-pitch softball, but I love watching all live sports.

5. do you use sarcasm?

Strange story, but many educators have to get "empathy training" because we do not understand declarations of self-harm to be serious. We think they are sarcastic comments. I think as an aging millennial, sarcasm is all we have, so we do not recognize when someone else is being serious. So . . . yes, I use sarcasm.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Vibes. I travel alone, so if the vibe ain't right, I'm out.

7. what’s your eye color?

Very dark brown

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Happy Endings. Both kind. *wink*

9. any talents?

Navigation and directions. Stick me anywhere, and I will find my way to where I need to go. Metro, bus, interstate, walking. Doesn't matter. I will figure it out. Also driving. I can drive loooong distances and any vehicle is my friend, which is why I got a ticket on the autobahn because I was just vibin' in the Audi at 150 km.

10. where were you born?

Japan

11. what are your hobbies

Traveling, especially for live music. I've seen hundreds of artists individually and have been to almost fifty music festivals. Some of my favorites are Austin City Limits (Austin), Electric Daisy Carnival (Las Vegas), Lollapalooza (Chicago), Country Music Awards Fest (Nashville), Osheaga (Montreal), Ultra (Miami), Primavera (Barcelona), Mad Cool (Madrid), and Pa'l Norte (Monterrey, México). Some of my favorite venues are Meow Wolf (Santa Fe), Red Rocks (Denver), and Fenway Park (Boston), and I had a ticket to see a concert at the Palace of Versailles in France for May 2020, then everything went to hell in a hand basket. But strangely, I saw Bad Bunny, Big Freedia, and French DJ Gesaffelstein in 2020.

I could talk for hours about music, but I'll stop with this picture (not mine because none I took came out good) of Gesaffelstein who dresses like this for his shows with an all black background and all black equipment. Ah-maze-zing.

12. do you have any pets?

Oh, God, no. I'm a Disney villain. I don't mess with animals. Or plants.

13. how tall are you?

5'9" (This is a good country song too)

14. favorite subject in school?

Languages & Literature, which is why I teach English now.

15. dream job

What I'm doing now. Teaching. Except I would like to grade less than ~150 essays every month, but education is a mess right now, so y'all be nice to your professors.

#fifteen questions #tag game #I hate tagging people #so if you see this‚ consider yourself tagged

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merrock · 3 months ago

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event: End of Summer Beach Bash

location: Merrock Swim Beach

date & time: August 23-25, 2024

ooc duration: August 18-25, 2024

Welcome to the End of Summer Beach Bash! This party is for everyone in Merrock who is absolutely dreading school starting soon, and the perfect opportunity to have one last hoorah with all of your friends and family before the weather changes. Everyone is welcome. If you bring the kiddos, please make sure to be responsible for them, and pets must be cleaned up after if you bring them along, too.

This time around, the beach has been 'staged' with different areas to enjoy different facets of the party and get involved in fun things, they areas are:

CLUB MERROCK -- a dance floor has been set up, as well as a DJ booth and some tables and chairs, with lights strung above, and potted palm trees for ambiance. bartenders will be serving mixed drinks all night, as well. this area will be open from sundown until 12AM Friday and Saturday night.

CAMPGROUND -- an area further down the beach where you can pitch a tent (or lay out a blanket) to camp for the night if you wish. Fires will be built, as well!

THE BONFIRE -- perfect for just hanging out, singing songs, making s'mores or anything else that you want to do with your night; the bonfire will be lit from sundown until late into the night, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

THE FEED TROUGH -- food trucks, drink stands, grills, picnic tables, everything that you need to keep yourself well fed while you party! feel free to bring whatever you would like to eat, as well.

THE ATHLETIC PIT -- this area has been set up with horseshoes, quoits, a volleyball net, and has direct access to some of the best surfing and boogie boarding spots at the beach. perfect for getting a game together with your friends!

The rest of the beach is fair game -- stretch out on a towel or blanket, build sandcastles, do some reading, hang out, do whatever you want to do! There will be lifeguards on duty to make sure that you are safe and sound should you decide to go jump into the ocean, as well. Alcohol can be consumed (it can only be purchased & will only be served in Club Merrock, however; otherwise, you must provide your own), but do drink responsibly in common areas!

Let's have a great weekend to end our summer vacations! xx

MOD NOTES: there will be a thread roulette for this event (pinned in our OOC blog!). you're still welcome to make your own plot calls (but please comment on or reach out to others first!), and open starters are highly encouraged. if you would like to post outfits and starters, feel free! use the #merrockfashion and #merrocksocial tags, as usual.

#merrockevent

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crescentblossom66 · 9 months ago

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Bond of the Beasts Chapter 12

“School sucks! It was the one thing I totally didn't miss when I was all on my own.” Mu lamented as she entered the school after Hattie and Bow, the latter turned around to make sure her friend was following. The day after Mu was introduced to the remaining two adults, the DJ had insisted to buy her new clothes, an offer that the werewolf girl couldn't really turn down, given that her old clothes had been pretty beat up. She now had a red hoodie which was perfect for covering up her wolf ears and black jeans which were...not too great in making sure it wasn't a pain to hide her tail. The only thing that she couldn't hide was her mustache, but that didn't matter, she was proud of it, no matter what anyone else said.

Bow opened the door to the classroom for her. “Learning things is hard for me too, and I struggle a bit with talking to others, but I enjoy it a lot, it beats what we've been through before.” She said that in a more quiet tone to make sure that the kids that were already in the room didn't hear. Mu just sighed..

“At least tell me that you're sitting next to me.” Bow nodded. When Mu was accepted into class as a new transfer student, Cookie had requested that she could sit next to Bow, thinking that it would help Muriel adjust better if a friend sat next to her. Feeling indeed a bit better about this whole situation now, the red-clothed girl sat down with a huff, thinking that maybe she should act up in class...but that might make it worse for Bow and Cookie, both had been very nice to her. The last few days, the young girl had made due on her promise, keeping her company and helping her settle into the new household. Cookie had been maybe the nicest adult, other than her parents, she had ever met. She was always around if she had a question and had listened to her vent about the Hunters. The DJ had been nice enough to to help her buy clothes, it apparently was surprising him that the Conductor decided to pitch in with paying for them, Bow had informed her that these two didn't really see eye to eye. By a long shot the weirdest and most enigmatic guy in the household had been this Snatcher character, not only did his appearance make her feel on edge, but his whole demeanor. Only Hattie and Cookie seemed to be interacting with him, Bow had been right to warn her.

Mu leaned back in her chair and started to rock back and forth by leaning far back and then moving forward just a bit so the chair was teetering constantly. Bow gave her a concerned look and was about to open her mouth, but Mu interrupted her. “I know what you're going to say 'It's dangerous, Mu, you shouldn't do this, you'll fall!' I don't care, I'm bored and I need some fun in this place.” Bow looked down at her desk, feeling a bit called out. Hattie on the other hand only sighed, she had been reading the same book for what felt like hours. “Hey, nerd, what are you reading there, some kind of ancient history book or something equally as lame?” Mu smirked, wanting to poke fun at the young sorceress, who only shook her head.

“No, it's a magi-” Bow stopped her by putting her hand in front of Hattie's mouth. The other girl recoiled, but understood the issue a moment later, she had forgotten that they were in the middle of school. “Sorry...”

“It doesn't matter what book it is, reading is lame! So is learning...it's sooo boring.” The blonde girl sat back down normally once English class started and they had to read. It was a book about a small fox that got separated from his mother and was trying to find her.

Thanks to having been in school for a few years before her family got found out and hunted down, Muriel was mostly able to read the paragraph she was supposed to read quite easily, only stumbling a little bit when she had to read a more complicated word. Mu didn't seem to care too much anyway about how well she'd do, as long as she would pass the class with a C or at worst a D. It was amazing to Bow just how quickly Hattie had improved in reading compared to her. It wasn't like she wasn't trying to read or get better in school to get rid of the disadvantage the isolation and lack of education given to them in their lives up until this point had created, it was just that Hattie seemed to pick up things a lot better than her. It caused her to feel a bit dumb and inferior to her sister. When Bow's turn came around, the young changeling struggle to read the words, even easy words still felt rather hard to her. Her embarrassment only increased when the other kids in the class started snickering at her subpar reading skills. Her face turned bright red and she sunk into her chair more and more, her paragraph didn't seem to have an end at all, her tears that blurred her eyes half way through, didn't make it any easier on the girl.

Hattie was too busy to notice having opened her magic book behind the book they were actually reading, now that her turned to read had been over. Mu on the other hand noticed, she felt a bit of rage build up in her and she slammed her fist on her desk, she would have loved to call the other children out for their awful behavior, but she couldn't act up, she'd cause problems for Cookie and so she had to just endure it. She placed a hand on the back of the changeling who would have turned a mix of blue and purple if she hadn't taken her potion this morning. The rest of the day, Bow felt down, even playing hide and seek with Hattie and Mu later during recess didn't cheer her up at all. “What's wrong, sis? Why are you so down?” Hat Kid asked after finding her sister way too quickly, normally Bow was excellent at hiding.

“It's noting...You don't need to worry.” Bow forced a smile through which the other girl saw easily.

Hattie's expression softened a bit and she knelt down to the girl that was only halfway hidden behind a bush. “You can't lie to me, Bow, I know that response, something is bothering you a lot.”

Bow just sighed, a bit frustrated that she had to explain the situation now. “You know how everything comes fairly easy to you? You picked up reading really quickly and even in math, you're doing much better...-” She lowered her head in shame, “-I feel a bit stupid.” Like she expected, Hattie didn't laugh at her confession.

Hattie looked at her sister with understanding and concern. “It's just really easy for me, I can't explain it, but I don't think you're stupid. I just have more of a reason to learn quickly.” The other girl tried to reassure, her efforts unfortunately didn't have the expected result, as instead of Bow's happy, cheerful smile, all the young changeling managed was slight raise of her lip that attempted to be a smile, but failed miserably.

Loud footsteps and even louder yelling startled both kids who's heads snapped over to the annoyed girl in the red hood. “Were you trying to make me wait until I turned old and gray?! If I wanted to bore myself to sleep, I'd go back to class and read!” The previously rather depressing atmosphere switched instantly, neither Bow nor Hattie wanted to be subjected to Muriel's anger.

When school finally ended, Mu charged out of school like she die if she spend another second in the old building. “If tomorrow is going to be as boooring as today, I swear, I might just have to nuke the place.” She more or less screamed at no one in particular as both Bow and Hattie exited a few seconds later. “You two are so slow, I've seen snails move faster.” Mu crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the other two to catch up.”

“This isn't a race, Mu.” Hattie said rather monotonously which only annoyed the hot-headed girl, who scoffed. If Bow hadn't been to caught up in her own rather detrimental thoughts, she would have easily picked up on the tension between the other two girls. Instead, her thoughts ran rampant with her own insecurity. She really felt like she wasn't contributing much compared to Hattie. While Hattie had her strong magic that could be used in all kinds of ways, she had nothing. She couldn't move objects with an unseen force, she couldn't summon a rain cloud to make water appear out of thin air, and she couldn't conjure up a shield like what Hattie was trying to learn and had moderately succeeded in already. Even Mu, who no one had any expectations for, was very agile and strong, with her being a werewolf. A changeling like her had only the ability to change her color...that was all...all she could do anyway. It wasn't useful and posed more of a problem as she couldn't control it at all.

“...Bow!” The purple-eyed girl gasped and nearly jumped out of her skin when Mu waved her hand in front of her face. “You were miiiles away there. I was asking if you wanted to come with me into the forest later.”

“Sorry, I was just...thinking about something.-” Bow explained while Mu gave her a rather annoyed look. “-I'll come with you, maybe we can find some mushrooms.” She forced a small smile which Mu couldn't see through as easily as Hattie could, the blonde haired girl rose her fist up in the air in triumph instead.

“Great idea! I know aaalll the edible ones out there! It will give me an opportunity to do something nice for Cookie.” Mu grabbed Bow's arm quite forcefully and dragged her with her. “We'll go right after lunch.” Bow had trouble keeping up with Mu as she hurried home, passing by Hattie who had been ahead a little, looking equally as spaced out as Bow had been earlier. “Wanna come with us, nerd?”

Hattie nearly tripped after being snapped out of her thoughts. “N-No, I can't, I have more important things to do.”

Mu only rolled her eyes at that answer. “Fine, have fun reading or what other lame thing you had planned.” Mu continued to drag Bow with her, the changeling nearly stumbled several times on the way home, especially now that autumn was near and the trees were losing their leaves, coupled with the rain, the forest ground was quite slippy. When they arrived home, Cookie had left a note, saying that she had gone to work and had left them a stew on the stove that they only needed to heat up. While Bow was preparing the stew according to the instructions left behind, Muriel had gone up to change into something that allowed her tail to be more free, the red-clothed girl wondered if she could just cut a hole in the back of her trousers to put her wolf tail through, it was quite uncomfortable, and she could at least be comfortable at home, right?

Hattie returned home around 5 minutes after the other two, she sat down on the corner bench with a sigh. Bow started to place down three plates of stew, surprisingly, the smell hadn't attracted the werewolf girl yet. Thinking that Hat Kid was upset because Mu and her had rushed ahead, she decided to speak up. “Uh...are you upset?”

Hattie shook her head, not really focusing on Bow's words at all, she didn't even look at her. Contradictory to what that action made Bow believe, Hattie wasn't upset with her, the young sorceress was thinking over how to make that shield spell work. Maybe Snatcher could give her some pointers on how to do it, the instructions in the book were insufficient. “Think of something protective”, was a rather vague description.

Bow mistook Hattie's silence as her being mad at her, causing her to fumble with the hem of her white shirt and looking away. The changeling's sad expression was replaced by one of shock when Mu came barreling down the stairs, looking even more upbeat and energetic when before. “I finally fixed my worst problem, look!” Mu turned to show her tail which was now free as she had cut a hole her other pants which were meant to be worn at home. “It's so much better now, I feel a lot better!” She gave a wide smile and sat down opposite of Hattie. Unlike Hattie, who still hadn't so much as touched her spoon, Mu started to eat like a starved animal.

Bow joined the other two girls, staring down at her plate of stew as if the pieces of meat and vegetables could give her a solution to the issue that troubled her. She absentmindedly just took a spoon full and dropped its contents back down into the bowl. She got torn out of her thoughts by Mu yet again, who spoke up after seeing that she hadn't eaten anything at all yet.

“Come on, you gotta eat something, you won't be able to search for mushrooms with no strength!” Mu got up to get seconds while Bow glanced back at her and then back at the stew. She reluctantly started to eat, by now her food was merely lukewarm. While Mu started to eagerly at her second bowl of stew, and Bow was now eating slowly, Hattie didn't even touch her stew and simply started out the window before she got up and headed upstairs. After they had finished eating Mu got up and grabbed her and Bow's dishes, the young changeling got startled by that. “Let's go! It will get dark if we don't hurry.” Bow just nodded and followed Mu after the werewolf girl had put their dishes in the dishwasher.

While Bow was minding nearly every step she took as to not slip on the muddy and mossy forest ground that was littered with colorful, yet very wet and slippery leaves, Mu jumped from one pile of leaves to the next, kicking the maple and chestnut leaves into the air and watching them tumble back down again. Bow was glad to see the other girl look happy and enjoy herself, but she truly wondered how the more unruly girl managed to not fall flat on her face, she had nearly fallen three times so far and had been lucky that she there had always been a tree for her to catch herself. Bow had to say that she really liked the forest, even if it was slippery, the various shades of red, orange and yellow that the trees and bushes around her sported were incredible beautiful. She really had to try and draw them later when she had time. Even the smell was different, the fragrance of wet moss and wood was definitely preferable to hand sanitizer and the strange chemicals that were used in the laboratories.

“Look Bow, that's an edible mushroom over there!” Bow followed Mu who hurried over to the mushroom to inspect it closer before she picked it up and covered the area where she plucked it from with soil again. “I know this one, I've eaten it before with my father.” The blonde girl handed the mushroom over to Bow who looked at it as if she hadn't ever any sort of fungus in her life. “Have you never seen a mushroom before? It's nothing that interesting, you know.”

Bow shook her head solemnly. “This is the first time that I've seen one in the wild, I've only ever seen them in pictures before.” Mu frowned at Bow's comment and mumbled something under her breath.

“Something bad happened to you and Hattie, right? It's obvious that you two didn't have a normal upbringing, you're way too strange for that.”

Bow looked down at the ground for a moment, being called strange yet again, she wondered if she could ever escape that lab, even now that she was out of it, the simple fact that she knew almost nothing about the world was causing her to feel out of place, like she didn't belong. “We were...raised in laboratory. Both Hattie and I only recently managed to flee.”

Mu gasped in shock, she had thought that Bow and Hattie were much like her, having lost their family due to them being hunted down, but this was truly awful. She had heard about the facilities, that quite a few magical creatures were brought there to be experimented on. “Did they...experiment on you?” Mu asked with an unusually quite tone of voice, yet it still caused the changeling girl to shiver for a moment.

Experiment was a word that would likely haunt her for the rest of her life, the mere mention of the word caused all the bad memories to resurface. Her skin turned to a deep shade of purple, the potion had worn off. Bow nodded, but didn't want to elaborate, she prayed that the werewolf girl wouldn't ask what sort of experiments they had performed on her.

Mu panicked after seeing Bow Kid's color change to purple and she looked afraid. “I-I'm sorry, uh...” She looked around, trying to find something to distract the other girl with. “-There! Uh...a wild apple tree!” Mu pointed at the tree and went over to it, getting one of the small apples. “They're smaller and a bit more sour than the ones you can by at the market, and you have to watch out for worms, but they're super tasty.” She smiled and offered the apple to Bow, who took it and just stared at it for a moment. The sight of the fruit at least got her mind off the terrible memories and Bow tried her hardest to calm herself, telling herself that she was safe. She also didn't want to worry Muriel any further, the young werewolf looked like she was trying really hard to be empathetic.

She took a bite of the apple offered after making sure that there wasn't a hole in it, she had to say that it tasted exactly like Mu had described, sour, but the flavor was a lot stronger. “It's tastes great.” The changeling gave a thumbs up while the blonde haired girl breathed a sigh of relief.

As they headed home, Mu's ears began to twitch, and her fur bristled. “Do you smell that? A boar is in the area. We should take another path.” Mu grabbed Bow's hand and tried to get away. The tension of the blonde girl made Bow feel on edge and she followed as silently as she could. When she turned her head, she spotted the wild animal. She had never seen a wild boar before, but she had to say that, even though it wasn't that big, its tusks looked like they'd hurt if it decided to attack.

“Mu...it found us.” She whispered anxiously and Mu turned toward it, pushing Bow behind her.

“Back away slowly, don't run. It might chase us and they aren't as slow as they might look.” Bow did as she was told and backed away slowly while the boar seemed to watch them. All went well until the slippery and muddy forest ground thwarted they're plan. Bow slipped and fell backwards which startled the boar and made the animal rush toward them. Mu wasted no second and started to let out a loud wolf howl to try to deter the animal, when that didn't work she had to fight. Fighting an animal that weight 300 pounds and above would proof difficult even for a werewolf adult, but for a child, it was pretty much impossible, thankfully, this boar was still quite young and only half the size of a fully grown version of this species. Mu had one advantage though, her speed, she lured the boar toward her by waving her arms and then dodged at the last second when it charged at her, causing the wild pig to collide with a tree which gave her the opening she needed to use her sharper canine teeth to bite the boar's neck. It was enough to deter the wild animal and it ran away, retreating back into the forest. “And don't come back!”

Mu wiped the blood off her mouth while she helped the startled and amazed Bow to her feet. “Wow...A-Are you okay?” Bow asked worrying about her friend while also in complete awe.

Mu smiled with confidence, “Of course I'm okay, a wild boar is no match for me.” Outwardly she portrayed self assurance, inside however she was freaking out, she only hoped that Bow couldn't see how her body was shaking. “We should hurry back before more of these guys show up.” The changeling nodded.

#ahit bond of the beasts #ahit monster au #ahit hat kid #ahit bow kid #ahit mustache girl #ahit fanfic

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