#and stick it to his ego about the championship...

[moonshynecybin]

context here and here... short fic (~1k words) about reporter au marc, turning over what their sepang could be... unspeakably divorced vibes to this one...

Marc lays the recorder down in front of Valentino. He starts, carefully neutral:

“So. You were a little bit shaky on the braking this weekend, was there any specific reason? It looked like you were having trouble with grip?��

Vale crosses his arms, narrow posture folding.

“Marc.” He counters. Face serious.

Marc ignores him. Ignores the tornado shredding his stomach. He scribbles something in his notebook, mindlessly underlining a question he doesn’t even want to ask. He’s been trying to keep it more professional, after the last few weeks. After—

“Do you need me to repeat the question?” He says.

Vale doesn’t give an inch. “Why did you write that article?”

So he did see it. Marc flicks his eyes up from his notebook, quick. Vale’s eyes bore into him. unerring. Feline.

He shrugs a little. Sucks on his teeth.

“Did you have a problem with it?” He shouldn’t, really. Wouldn’t if it were anyone else. Marc’s just doing his job, he won’t compromise that for anyone. Journalism isn't about making people happy.

“No.” Vale says, and Marc’s asked him enough questions at this point to know what he looks like when he lies.

He fingers the end of Marc’s recorder. Long hands against shitty plastic. He switches it off.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be off the record.” Marc says mildly, like he’s joking. He doesn’t know what Vale wants from this— apparently not an interview—and judging by the expression dragging at the corners of his face, the chances of Vale indulging the small part of Marc scaffolded on hope are slim. In fact, a picture is starting to form, uneasy and edgy, lighting the barely-dormant spark of hurt in his gut.

He can’t be serious.

Vale laughs, brittle and hard.

“So you don’t regret it?”

He is serious.

Marc puts his pen down as something in him clenches, sick and determined. Vale can’t— he shouldn’t get to do this, after the last few weeks. shouldn’t get to be mad at him for the sort of article that he wouldn’t care about if anyone else had written it. Not after how he's ignored Marc, skipping over him in press scrums. After how he implied Marc was overstepping, too familiar. Not professional. After how Marc— after they—

After.

Marc feels like an idiot. Whatever. His piece is still good, his writing stands on its own. It asks valid questions, makes the correct comparisons, and gives Jorge Lorenzo a few hard-earned compliments. It's an incisive article. Interesting. Impersonal. Entirely professional.

Just like Vale wanted.

“Why would I?”

Vale keeps studying him, and Marc thinks a muscle jumps in his jaw. He meets him head on, intense. That same chemistry that they’ve been building for the last few seasons turned sour now, crackling like a live wire. Vale’s eyes drop to Marc’s mouth, then back to his eyes. His expression sets.

Marc sees him arrive at some sort of conclusion.

It can’t be just about the article— others have said worse, gone farther. Marc was careful to stay in bounds, tame and even normal compared to some of the other journos in the paddock. No remarks about his personality or his age. Just a few observations about how Jorge is steadily gaining in the standings, and how Vale is slowly losing the lead he’s had all season. The facts, as Marc sees them. Objective.

But Marc has also never written anything like that before. Has built a name for himself on complex opinions and strategic analysis. On the experience he has as a former racer, and as someone who was supposed to be on the other side of the recorder— supposed to be answering questions instead of asking them. On interviews strengthened by the easy, genuine relationship he has with Valentino Rossi.

But it’s not like he can exactly rely on that last one anymore.

Vale tilts his head forward, eyebrows up. A wry little expression plays across his face, there for a flash, before he shakes his head and pushes back his chair.

“Eh, I guess you are right.” Vale stands, nods. He leans over the table and waves a hand in the air, face animated. Cheerful, if you don’t know him. Studied nonchalance. “Why would you? It’s your job.”

He says the last bit like it means something, extra emphasis on each syllable.

“It is my job.” Marc agrees.

“Right.” Vale says, after a moment, tension threading through them both, taught as a bow string.

He says it like it’s final. Like it’s the end of something. It's exactly the same tone of voice he used a few weeks ago in Phillip Island, when Marc had stumbled out of the cold bed in his crappy hotel room and saw Vale fully dressed, looking for his wallet. About to leave. His head had whipped up when he saw Marc awake, and the look on his face was crystal clear. Had made Marc abruptly feel like he was about to vomit, cold rising from his toes as Vale started to speak.

Too young. Too close. Too unprofessional.

Right.

“Right.” Vale says again now, confirming whatever he sees in Marc’s face, blue eyes clear and remote. The hinge of his jaw is wound tight, day-old stubble blurring his sideburns.

Marc’s chest throbs.

He doesn’t say anything, lets the silence fill the room until it’s about to burst.

Vale stares at him a minute longer before he turns and leaves, door swinging behind him.

Marc sits there, staring at his notebook for a long time.

He doesn’t end up writing anything.

[malereadermaniac]

Ego ~ Blue Oak x GN Reader

Blue's tired of losing to Red, so when he sees you blush and play with your fingers around the stoic man, Blue acts for the sake of his Ego No pronouns are used - any reader welcome! word count: 1.2k

Blue, you, and Red had been friends and rivals since you were young kids - you had watched the two of them conquer the pokemon league and the three of you were constantly having battles and eventually hanging out after Blue became less salty about his loses

However, becoming less bitter does't mean in any way shape or form that Blue's ego is any less big, or that he doesn't still see himself as the best of the best; despite his losses!

The main reason to him putting his ego aside and making friends with Red was also less about him moving on and more about trying to win you over...

Blue had developed a crush on you pretty quickly, after starting off your journey amongst the two boys with a cute little Eevee, you and the arrogant man decided to stick together - Blue claiming that you'd die out in wild Kanto with pokemon weaker than his

Initially, Blue just wanted a battle partner and someone to show off to - and he wasn't going to ask Red after losing to him after receiving his starter...

But after hearing your cheers for him in the crowd for 3 gyms in a row, Blue had started to notice how his heart skipped a beat whenever he was near you (which was a lot.)

But the young man kept it to himself all the way into adulthood, swallowing his pride by tolerating Red in order to continue being near you

And Blue had started to really try now! With his intense league journey behind him, the man had fully realised his massive crush on you, and he wasn't going to lose this time, mark his words!

So on the daily, Blue would go out of his way to try and flirt with you - the man constantly near you, showing off his strength by doing things for you, challenging you to battles just to hear your compliments to his skill, and once the man built up enough courage gifts had become a common courtesy!

The tall trainer had made many efforts to ensure you two could hangout one-on-one at least once a week - those days being his favourite, prime time to show off and to enjoy your presence

Your group trip to Alola was where the heat started to get cranked up though - revealing clothing, the hot sun making all of you sweat and slightly delirious, constant adrenaline from battling new trainers, and a whole lotta alcohol in your systems

The subtle flirting between you and Blue had continued throughout the trip via playful banter and gifting souvenirs, and the fact that the slim yet muscular man was wearing his shirt fully open all the time was definitely winning him some bonus points! Blue would catch you staring every so often, stroking the attractive man's ego so nicely~

But a wrench was thrown into Blue's delicate work when he noticed your subtle staring was starting to redirect from him... onto the worst possible person; Red

He'd notice you try to include the quiet man into your conversations, trying to get him to speak or laugh; an obvious blush on your face when the champion spoke a few words with his deep voice

It really fucking pissed Blue off.

The way you'd play with the hem of your shirt or your fingers when talking to Red, a light blush on your face and airy chuckles escaping past your lips - Blue adored it when you'd do those things for him... But the fact that they were aimed towards his rival? The man who crushed his dreams of being the best in Kanto? Blue could hear the scratch of his teeth gritting together at that

It also didn't help that Red took notice of your actions, clearly wearing his shirt unbuttoned like Blue on purpose!

Blue had, had enough

He'd already lost his championship to Red, almost every battle with him had resulted in a loss on the arrogant man's behalf, his own grandfather had congratulated Red but not Blue; his ego had already been shattered to pieces, he wasn't going let Red take you too

So, as you and Red were enjoying the warm Alolan beach, Blue had made his way to you both - his face concealing his frustration pretty effectively, but Blue had never been one to wear his true emotions on his sleeve

You wave the handsome man a 'hi' but had been interrupted when asking him if he was alright; Blue's rough hand wrapping perfectly around your wrist and pulling you away from Red

You barely even had time to protest against Blue's actions before you had been pulled into a changing cabin on the beach, Red still standing on the beach in shock

With your back up a against a wall, Blue had tapped you beneath him - his muscular arms trapping you between the wall and the trainer's muscular, sweaty, warm body - one of his arms above your head and the other grasping your shoulder

"Do you like him?!" Blue demands, his face now clearly upset, his grip on your shoulder decently tight yet his hand was clearly trembling

"Huh? What're you on about, Blue?" you question, half of your face squinting in a quizzical manner

"Do you like, Red?" Blue asks, taking in a deep breath, preparing himself for your answer

"I mean he's attractive, sure-" shit... Blue's face had already lost all emotion, those words like a knife stabbing into him

"-but I'd never date him!"

New light had sparked in Blue's eyes, a smile just barely visible on his soft looking lips

"Are you joking? I love him and all but that man gets out like.. 3 words an hour! I need a talker haha~" You chuckle, feeling more at ease when Blue's grip on your shoulder softens and his face sports that classic smirk he always has on around you

"Heh.. Yeah... you need someone to yap with" Blue jokes, his heart rate slowly lowering as he calms down, knowing that he still has you - both emotionally and physically, his body ever so close to yours

"Why though? All the dramatics are usual for you but... were you jealoussss?~~" You tease your handsome friend, a smirk on your lips as you tilt your head in a way that's so fuckin cute to Blue

"F-Fuck off! And what if I was?!" Blue shouts, his arms darting away from trapping you and crossing against his chest - his face flushing in a cute way

"I dunno... Maybe I'd like that" You carry on, pushing a finger against the taller man's muscular chest and dragging it across his warm skin, your eyes looking up into Blue's as you do this

And my god did that make the usually arrogant and cool man malfunction

The two of you spent a good half hour in that changing shack, flirting back and forth, you doing your best to stroke and sooth Blue's fragile ego before having to go back and see Red for the rest of your trip

And for that sole half hour, Blue had felt happier than ever - more happy than when he was briefly crowned as champion

Because in that moment, he didn't have you there; but now he does

[muxas-world]

Pecco wanting to have his sports persona represented by how fair and sportsmanlike he is, is so funny and intriguing at the same time. Because, for one, it shows he is very much aware of what people expect from him, coming/raised by Vale and the VR46 camp. He knows how unsportsmanlike some of Vale’s actions are perceived (which, on its own, is a whole topic because what he really thinks and judges about Vale’s actions could be a mix of feeling like the academy boy Vale favored the least, with Aspar, etc., having more to do with his development, and how he and Luca see things outside of the idol). Pecco wants his legacy to be far away from that. He wants to be remembered as fair, as someone who doesn’t need iconic rivalries to be remembered. And it’s funny because it kinda works??? Especially if you look at this year—outside of his run-of-the-mouth moments, with his apologies and his effort to stick to fair racing and comments toward Jorge—he is now being seen as a sir,a good sportsman who deserves all the respect for being fair and showing you don’t need to be aggressive or mean to your rival to have a great fight. This has been said by journos, podcasters, and fans, so it did work. But somehow, I don’t think that makes him happier?? Why? Because that conversation is fun if you actually win something—but he doesn’t. (Which, to be fair, with him, I think he’s known for a while now that he wasn’t winning this championship.) So, he has to stand on the podium, watching Martín celebrate, and you can see he doesn’t want to be there. He’s actively disconnected. Take that video of Rivola saying congrats for how clean he was, and Pecco just didn’t answer, avoiding eye contact same behavior that when he was with Izaskun, saying congrats to Martín.

We know Pecco, by nature, is petty (all great champions are, to some level) and has his own ego, so it’s really fun to see him fight against his own nature to play the bigger man, just for the sake of the narrative.

[ineedassistance28]

these are my thoughts on the austrian gp:

the collision was max’s fault. there’s no way around that. with that in mind, though, lando was divebombing max a lot, and i don’t know why he thought that would stick. mclaren is consistently just as fast, if not faster, than redbull, and with max’s slow pitstop lando didn’t need to try the same move over and over again. he was within drs range. he had other chances to make an overtake work.

i saw someone say that max already had multiple championships and was unnecessarily defending like it was gonna be his first win, which i think is unfair. it’s austria, the home of the entire redbull brand. of course he’s gonna defend aggressively. does that mean he raced cleanly? no. did either of them race cleanly? no. lando also had a 5 second penalty, if i’m remembering correctly, so it really wouldn’t have mattered if they stayed that close.

someone also said something about lando’s ego being ridiculous since miami, which i guess is partially true but i don’t think that’s negative. lando has finally realized that he can win, and to see him fight for that is great. that doesn’t mean he’s entitled to wins, though, the same way max isn’t.

the problem is taking responsibility. i cannot say whether i think either of them will. all motorsport drivers are prideful, and they’re no different. lando has already said stuff about max taking responsibility and how that will affect their friendship, but that doesn’t mean he’s totally exempt from blame. they were both overly aggressive. they both fought dirty. they both should’ve reeled it in and chilled out.

i hope their friendship isn’t ruined because of this. i think they need time to cool off, and then they can talk about it properly and respectfully (that probably won’t never happen). maybe before silverstone, so if something happens there it won’t make things even worse.

[sistermclarens]

Hungarian GP 24: McLaren Race Radios 4

Speeding towards the end of the race is Oscar Piastri, narrowly avoiding the head on collision between Lando Norris and the McLaren pit wall along the way.

Laps 1-30 | Laps 31-39 | Laps 40-54 | Laps 55-70

Lap 55

TS: "Hamilton last lap 22.6. Gap to Hamilton is 8 seconds."

WJ: "Ok Lando the position behind is Oscar's 3.8 behind, then Hamilton and Leclerc are 12, and Max is right behind him. We need you to save more tires please, and we do wanna let Oscar through." LN: "Eh, well you should have boxed him first then, surely not?" WJ: "Doesn't matter." LN: "I mean. It does. To me maybe."

Ok. Listen. I have a bit of sympathy for Lando in that he wants those extra 7 points in the driver's championship. Yes, rationally, logically, to me especially as I am very much both of those things, it's basically impossible for him to win it. I think the estimates I've seen are that Lando has to score an average of 7 points higher than Max in every race for the rest of the season, or Max has to DNF three times, or some combination of the two. Here, tho, is I think one of those reasons I'm finding F1 so interesting: the drivers are NOT rational. They're soooooo driven by instinct and emotion and pure raw ego when it comes to their own self-assessments. They ALWAYS believe they can win; they HAVE TO always believe they can win. Lando is demonstrating exactly that in this moment. To him, the championship is in reach, and every point counts.

On the flip side this is like a half-step away from a toddler throwing a temper tantrum lol like Lando has known since his pit stop in lap 45 that he was supposed to give P1 back to Oscar. If you count the pre-race agreement that whoever lead into the last round of pit stops would be uncontested P1 after that, then Lando effectively agreed to give up the lead to Oscar before he knew he had even lost it. To suddenly act shocked like "why was I boxed first? why are you making me switch?" is just disingenuous at this point.

Lap 57

WJ: "And Lando we still think you're using the tires too much, turn 4, turn 11, and the rears at exit turn 6, turn 9. Oscar's 3.5; I know you'll do the right thing."

Andrea Stella's message to the media about McLaren drivers being penalized for disobeying team orders really starts to come into play here. It particularly gives new light to WHY Will is trying so hard to convince Lando to give up P1--his seat with McLaren could be in jeopardy if he doesn't. "Do the right thing" is in this case both "do what is best for enduring teamwork" and "do what is best for your personal career." In my broadcast analysis I criticized the team for putting Lando in a position where he had to go against his own best interest (winning in general but especially winning championship points compared to Max) in order to be a team player. But it's clear now that the McLaren has set up their internal institutional structure to punish poor teamwork, which means that Lando's personal goal of winning the championship IS aligned with the organizations focus on teamwork. As Will says in a few laps, Lando can't win a championship without the team--because he LITERALLY CAN'T, as in, he may lose his seat on the team for being a bad teammate in the process of trying to win a championship.

Now, you can either love this or hate this as a McLaren tactic. (Personally, since I'm quite literally a political institutions scholar, I love whenever an organization lines up their carrots and sticks nicely so as to incentivize the same type of behavior from either reward or punishment.) But like it or not, we have to accept that these are the rules under which McLaren is operating this season. By refusing to give back P1 to Oscar, Lando is refusing to play by previously established rules, and he is running the risk of being slapped with a previously established punishment. He knows what he's doing, and he knows the potential consequences. He's either banking on McLaren not having the guts to go through with getting rid of their more experienced (and more sunk cost) driver, or he's caught up in his anger that the pre-established rules of the game are working against him because Oscar is doing better faster than Lando ever expected him to. Or a combination of both. Never underestimate the ego on a rich white man 😂

Lap 58

TS: "Ok behind, Hamilton is uh still the car behind. Verstappen passed Leclerc. Hamilton is 10 seconds behind you." TS: "Ok there's now 12 laps, ah, 13 laps to go. Would you take a safety car here? Would cost 1 position to Verstappen." OP: "Yes."

This is a fascinating look into Oscar's mindset--he's willing to give up P2 and settle for P3 if it means avoiding the possibility of his tires cooling down/wearing out to the point that he loses even further positions after the (hypothetical) safety car. Bird in hand, etc. I think people overlook how calculating Oscar can be because he's quiet and mostly seems content to go along with Lando's shenanigans in media things. Oscar Piastri let me put you in an MRI and run scans on your brain 👩‍🔬👩‍💻

WJ: "Lando, Hiroshi is stressed about the tires energies. Got a question for you. Ah, safety car with more than 8 laps to go. Would you take it?" LN: "Yes."

Lap 59

TS: "Ok we're in the full safety car window. Full safety car only."

WJ: "And Lando the full safety car window is therefore open." LN: "Okay." WJ: "Turn 4, turn 11. It's gonna get boring."

WRONG, Will, it's ALREADY boring 😭 we're at something like 6 or 7 reminders about turns 4 and 11 to Lando but I've fully given up counting because it's seriously so repetitive.

Lap 61

TS: "10 laps to go, 10 laps."

WJ: "Ok Lando, 10 laps to go; we think both cars are using their tires too much. Just remember ever single Sunday morning meeting we have." LN: "Yeah, well, tell him to catch up please."

Ok, I think this line from Will about Oscar's tires is bullshit. Obviously I don't have all the tire data here so maybe he knows something I don't. What I CAN tell you is that Oscar has not gotten a message about his tires since quite literally lap 49 when he got scolded for running off the track again. Nor does he get any specific "manage your tires better" messages later in the race, just a constant reminder for "best pace" which does involve tires but isn't ONLY tires.

The "Sunday meetings" line I discussed in my broadcast analysis, and I still stand by that: I think it makes the most sense in the context of Lando's interview answer where he mentions that every time they have a meeting they reaffirm their commitment and loyalty to the team. The reminder from Will is both a carrot (remember how good things are) and a stick (imagine how bad things could be).

Lando's response is a lot less defensible than I found it to be in the broadcast analysis, tho. "Tell him to catch up" like what? There's a pre-established agreement that whoever had P1 going into the last pit stop would be the winner. That's Oscar. There's a pre-established agreement that whoever doesn't obey team orders is in danger of punishment from higher-ups, potentially involving losing their seat. Why is Lando testing the boundaries of that? He's known since before his pit stop that the purpose of pitting him was to cover Lewis, NOT to undercut Oscar. Will reminded him of this again directly after his pit stop. Why is he pulling this?

Lap 62

OP: "When are we planning on swapping?" TS: "Ah Oscar we'll get that done soon. We just need best pace from you, best pace from you, for 9 laps."

Another one for turning Oscar Piastri into my mad science lab rat. He asks now AND next lap AND lap 66 about when the swap will occur. He's a lot more impatient about getting the win in hand than I think people realize again because his public persona is so mild. He's 🧍‍♂️ blending into the background, and that masks a lot of the fact that he's obviously got the same competitive spirit and confidence in his own race ability that the other F1 drivers do.

Lap 63

OP: "If there's a safety car with three laps to go, then [there would be no?] swapping." TS: "Understood, Oscar, we're on it."

Again, he's polite about it, and he's smart to do so on what he knows is live & recorded radio. But it's still a subtle signal of impatience with the pit wall. They've been telling him since around lap 48 that Lando would turn the position over to him, and now he's close to the window where a safety car would solidify the final race order with him in P2. He's not, as people said post race, unemotional or uncaring about winning. This is a pretty clear sign of impatience stemming from his competitive drive, so long as you know what you're looking for. He's just picking his words strategically when he knows everything he says is going to be recorded and picked over and analyzed by lunatics like me.

WJ: "Lando, he can't catch you up. You've proved your point, and it really doesn't matter." LN: "He's on much quicker tires, and fresher. I mean I would have tried to undercut anyway. If I didn't, I would have gone long." WJ: "Mate, we did the stop sequence in this order for the good of the team." LN: [interrupting] "Yeah and I'm fighting for a championship. Am I not?" WJ: [interrupting] "I tried to protect you mate. I promise, I'm trying to protect you."

"I would have tried to beat him anyways" this is like, middle school level behavior. Although given how much school athletes tend to miss in pursuit of their careers, I guess I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of these guys were under-socialized during important development years, so maybe it literally is middle school behavior. And Will's line at the end--that was so shocking to hear on the broadcast, but now we can put the pieces together and understand that he's reminding Lando of the very real possibility of repercussions stemming from ignoring a team order.

Lap 65

TS: "Ok. Keep it really tight, Oscar, keep this really tight. Just maximum focus now, best pace. Safety car window is closed."

WJ: "And Lando the safety car window is closed."

Lap 66

TS: "5 laps to go." OP: "The longer we leave this, the riskier it gets." TS: "Understood, Oscar, we're managing it."

WJ: "And Lando there are five laps to go. The way to win a championship is not by yourself; it's with the team. You're gonna need Oscar, and you're gonna need the team."

Do I even really need to talk about these last few radios or am I just repeating myself at this point? Lando has known for a ridiculously long time that he is supposed to give up P1, and he knows (better than we do or probably ever will) what the punishment would be for ignoring that team order. And it IS a team order, even though we haven't heard it be given command phrasing over the radio yet, because they were both given it as a pre-existing order before the race even started. I do feel bad for him that the team put him in this position by boxing him first. But he's not acting mature about this in any way shape or form.

Lap 67

WJ: Lando there is no threat behind; Hamilton is 20.3, then Leclerc, then Max. If there's a safety car now it's gonna make this very awkward. Please do it now.

Lap 68

TS: Ok, three laps to go. Lando's letting you through.

LN: Yeah you don't need to say anything.

If you didn't want anyone to say anything then why did you do all of this Lando 😭 now we've ALL said EVERYTHING 😭 but at least now my brain is empty and ready for Belgium this weekend 🍻

[leclerced]

before i head to bed—i absolutely agree. i think with max heavily involved for the rbr!driver au, lestappen would fit and then for the ferrari driver!au it strictly just charles. also a name would work perfectly to tell the difference! I sorta like Bones as a name (chosen name) but name is up for discussion! but me thinks having such an unique name would help, also because Bones sounds so like deathly and like somebody you'd associate with goth/emo group but then this happy wild card driver is bouncing around talking anybody's ear off is HYSTERICAL to me.

Also LESTAPPEN RIVALRY YES PLEAAAASE.

(imma stick with Bones for the time being as the name): Like Bones genuinely is confused when Max is so upset and pissy that she got with charles because yeah they hate each other but bones is like ‘?? we’re not fucking?? why are you so pissed???’ But Bones being a little shit i would die for. Bones just happily lets him take a picture and send it to charles and is actually excited to see the outcome because hello, two of the most popular drivers are like fighting over her. she’s allowed a bit of an inflated ego with that. she’s so happy-go-lucky, sunshine, always sweet & caring (unless charles but even still) to the public so nobody in a million years would expect her to be a little shit and sorts fueling a fire like this. especially when charles texts her asking what the fuck are those hickies on her thighs and demanding answers from max because ‘thought you guys weren’t fucking?? what changed??’ and probably making it his mission to not only get back at max but make sure bones remembers who they fucked first

and hell, to really add fuel, she’d probably wear a skirt with knee highs that are just a bit too big on her so she’s gotta have garter belts on to keep them up but part of the hickies are showing and she’s just “lalala” and maybe some people are bold enough to ask but she shrugs it off like “nothing! don’t worry bout silly clumsy me!” but she knows max and charles knows exactly what they are.

this fire is rapidly spreading between the two and bones just somehow in the middle but also on the sidelines roasting marshmallows straight vibing because they’re secretly a little shit who likes chaos and like maybe i’ve already thought of bones history which involves a really shitty ex and this is the first time they’ve felt wanted by anybody, let alone two guys like max and charles soooo.

if you’ll allow, i can ramble bout bones history tomorrow >:) also when i get around to forcing myself to update my blog (the thought tires me out LMAO) and really flesh this out, would you be down to be tagged in the post since we’ve been rambling nonstop bout it? 👀👀-🐈‍⬛

omg hi sorry i didnt answer this last night i finished baking at 11 pm n passed out 🥺

im not a big fan of the nickname bones bc i have watched the show bones a million times and it makes me think of decaying bodies so .. tbh its a turn off.

u can tell me ur idea ab her histroy but i have an idea ab it too but its opposite kinda ! i kinda want her to be someone who never committed to anyone, she fully committed to racing and never dated because media already spoke so much about her love life. idk what other countries are like but i can totally imagine her being american and it’s prom season so all her friends back home are getting asked to the dance, going dress shopping, and she’s on the other side of the world in a racing championship. interviewers keep asking her if she’s sad about missing out on prom and all crossing the stage for her high school graduation, and she’s just like “well considering i’m currently first in a fight for the f3 championship, i’d certainly rather be here fighting for this trophy than a prom queen sash.” very independent and always shoots down questions about her love life and is like “i don’t hear you asking anyone else that, why are you asking me?” or completely ignoring them until someone’s like “hey they asked you a question.” she just shrugs and says, “i’ve already said i’m not going to answer questions about my personal life. ask me about the race, or the car.”

maybe was fwb with a driver from another team in the past or even a past teammate so it’s kind of a comfortable dynamic to fall into with charles and max. she loves the chaos. she def loved pitting them against each other before the whole hickey fiasco, but when she fucks max and he leaves those hickeys on her thighs, it only gets worse. i can imagine if they’re in the same hotel charles could come banging on max’s door.

[mayhemproduces]

As the clock winds down on another magical night in Mayhem, we settle in for an unexpected grudge match, as the hometown hero, Will Ospreay, challenges the youngest man on the roster with the most accomplishments in his short career, and the ego to match. Dyln went from a rookie, fresh out of the academy, with a notable attitude problem, to a Chaos Cup finalist, to a former Stardust Champion, in one year. In that year, he challenges Joshua Bishop for the MPW World Championship. Dyln Blaine may not be the household name that is Will Ospreay, but his pedigree is nothing to sneeze at. But when the lights shine the brightest, he stands across one of the best professional wrestlers in the world. If not the history of pro wrestling as a whole. Will pedigree be enough? Will the confidence persevere when every move is countered, every landing stuck, every last bit of energy met with another sudden attack? Will Dyln Blaine match Ospreay’s fighting spirit? A win tonight will solidify Dyln as the ace of this new generation of MPW cadets, but it’s going to be the fight of his life. And it’s pretty damn clear who the UK is rooting for. A unanimous, wall shaking orchestra of “OSPREAAAY, OSPREAY-OSPREAY-OSPREAY, OSPREAAAY, OSPREAAAAY~” continuously fills the O2 Arena. You have to wonder if it’s getting under Dyln’s skin, or making him more nervous. And then, the sound of the bell. The crowd only gets louder as they continue to sing, but somehow, they’re even more hyped! Our match is officially underway!

Circling one another, they eventually lock up. Dyln takes control with a side headlock, but Ospreay brings them to the ropes, shoving him off. Dyln comes back with a shoulder tackle, but Ospreay kips right back to his feet! Dyln hits a chop to the chest and tries to do a snapmare, but Ospreay just lands on his feet! He smirks, chuckling softly as Dyln’s jaw tightens further. Our rowdy fans in the O2 furiously pound the barricade, creating a raptor of metal clanging as our combatants in the ring circle each other again, once more locking up. Dyln again snagged the side headlock, bringing them to the mat. He blocks the headscissor while cranking on the neck, trying to ground the masterful high flyer. But Ospreay doesn’t stay down for long. Bringing them to their feet, he shoves Blaine to the ropes. Ospreay drops down, and Dyln cartwheels over him. Off the ropes again, Dyln jumped over him with a leapfrog. On the rebound, he rolls back, legs sticking up in the air, as Ospreay cartwheels over him! Will whips around and charges. Dyln sends him up with a back body drop. But Ospreay lands on his feet, again! We’re going high speed now, as Dyln ducks under a clothesline. He lands a back elbow before sending Ospreay to the ropes. Dyln goes for a hurricanrana, but Ospreay cartwheels out of it, staying on his feet! They lock up, Ospreay taking control with a side headlock. Blaine tugs on the hair, trying to get some leverage, but Ospreay has him locked in tight. Dyln brings them to the ropes, shoving Ospreay off. Blaine drops down before him, and Ospreay flips, practically doing a 450 rotation, and lands on his feet! Ospreay whips around, and takes a boot to the teeth, kicking him right out of the ring! Dyln backs up, giving himself space to perform the cartwheels, jumping over the top rope with a handspring Tope Con Hilo, wiping out Ospreay! Dyln takes a moment to mock the crowd, who were loudly, and unanimously, in support of Ospreay. As we knew they would be, but we can only imagine how Dyln must feel about it. It’s so loud you can’t even hear yourself think. Whether he has a pre-determined game plan, or Dyln is just going with the flow, he quickly returns the action inside the ring. 

He jumps off the top rope - but gets caught by a dropkick! Ospreay with a precise strike takes out Blaine, and he slides right back out to the floor! Meanwhile, Ospreay quickly finds himself on the top rope, back positioned to his opponent. He takes flight, taking out Dyln Blaine with a gorgeous corkscrew Moonsault, and he practically lands on his feet doing it! The athleticism of Will Ospreay is ASTOUNDING, and the UK can’t help but to sing his praises, literally. The name of the Aerial Assassin jingles throughout the O2 as the action moves back into the squared circle. Ospreay takes flight with another springboard, but Blaine dodges the attack. Ospreay rolls through, and ducks under Dyln as he heads to the ropes. He goes for a tilt-a-whirl, flinging Dyln with a tijeras, but Dyln handsprings out of it, flipping back to his feet! Dyln slides under him, flinging Ospreay with a corkscrew tijeras, but Ospreay lands on his feet! They both head to the ropes, dropping down into a dual handspring. Ospreay lands on a knee, his other hand on the mat, but Dyln springs up, popping him with a dropkick, right on the mouth! Dyln surprises Will Ospreay! Now he sets up for a whip, grabbing Ospreay on the rebound, but Ospreay bounces his legs off the ropes! He floats back, tossing Dyln with an arm drag! Dyln jumps to his feet, getting nose to nose with Ospreay, but Ospreay just smiles back at him. The fans pound the barricade, making as much noise as they can as the tension between the two of them continues to grow. It seems that Dyln has fully realized the fight he’s in now, but it’s not going to be an easy win for either man. And Dyln isn’t taking this lightly anymore, as he chops Ospreay across the chest! Dyln with another blistering chop, backing him up into the corner. Blaine with a whip, reversed, but Dyln moves out of the way in the end. He trips Ospreay up, causing him to fall face first into the turnbuckles. Dyln swings through the ropes, nailing him with a tiger feint kick! Dyln swings to the apron, nailing Ospreay with a springboard missile dropkick! Dyln jumps into the cover, hooking the far leg!

1… Kickout!

Picking Ospreay up, Will slips behind him, grabbing him by the waist, but Blaine hits a back elbow. He drops down into a handspring, bouncing off the ropes. Ospreay leans over, letting Dyln roll off his back. Ospreay handsprings, but Dyln catches him! He starts to swing Ospreay, but Ospreay turns it around, tossing him with a corkscrew tijeras! Dyln rolls through and ducks under a quick roundhouse kick. Ospreay jumps over a leg sweep. Blaine ducks under a spinning back kick, and nails Ospreay with a spinning solebut! Dyln kicks him square in the gut, and Ospreay stumbles back, holding his stomach and struggling to breathe. Blaine charges after him, but Ospreay ducks! Dyln winds up on the second rope, and Ospreay reaches through, tucking his head against the top turnbuckle! Ospreay calls on his people before he goes for some Cheeky Nandos - but Dyln kicks him in the face! Ospreay stumbles back, and Dyln untucks his head before flipping off the ropes, drilling Ospreay with a Moonsault tornado DDT! Ospreay  gets dropped on his head, and Dyln makes the cover!

1… 2… Kickout!

With the Aerial Assassin on his knees, Dyln nails him with a few right hooks to the jaw, before lighting him up with another chop. This one sends Ospreay to his feet, and Dyln gets him with a snapmare. He slides across the mat, and nails Ospreay with a wicked superkick! Dyln walks it off, putting his hand over his eyes as he looks out at the crowd, wallowing in their displeasure, as Ospreay writhes with pain. Dyln leans down, putting his knee on Ospreay’s chest, making a rather weak, but cocky cover!

1… Kickout!

As expected, Ospreay kicks out with ease, but it doesn’t seem to bother Dyln much. That was more about disrespecting Ospreay, treating him like the young boy that Ospreay has referred to him as. Turning the right arm over in a wristlock, Dyln lands a few sharp kick to the ribs. He follows it up with another stinging knife edge chop, before landing a forearm. Blaine heads to the ropes, taking Ospreay down with a back handspring enzuigiri! Blaine goes for a standing Moonsaut, but Ospreay moves out of the way! Blaine manages to land on his feet, but Ospreay kicks up at him from the mat, catching him right under the chin! Ospreay jumps to his feet, chasing Dyln in the corner, but Blaine sends him over the ropes. Ospreay lands on the apron and grabs Dyln by the back of the head, slamming him head first onto the top turnbuckle. Dyln falls back with a big kick to the side of the head. Ospreay springboards off the top rope, taking him out with a springboard forearm! Dyln quickly vacates to the outside, trying to stop the sudden rush of offense, but he finds no reprieve from the master of the skies. Ospreay cartwheels across the ring, flips over the top, and takes out Dyln with the Sasuke Special! Maneuvering them back into the ring, Ospreay heads back to familiar territory, but as he takes flight, Dyln moves! Will lands on his feet, and Dyln nails him with an uppercut. He runs the ropes, Ospreay going for an uppercut - but Dyln catches him! He crushes Ospreay’s spine with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, slamming his back across the knee! Dyln quickly backs up, flattening Ospreay with a running shooting star press, Blaine with the cover!

1… 2… Kickout!

Calling Ospreay to his feet, Dyln sets up for the Rocket Strap, wanting to hit it early, but Ospreay slides right under him! Blaine lands on his feet, and tries to recover, going for the Cyclone Kick, but Will ducks it! Dyln lands on his knees, and Ospreay nails him with a hard buzzsaw to the side of the head, following right up with the back kick! Blaine rolls to the outside, trying to shake off the cobwebs from those two precise, stiff kicks, but Ospreay joins him on the outside. Dyln nails him with a big chop to the chest before going for a whip. But Ospreay jumps over the barricade! He quickly twists around, leaps off the barricade, and takes out Dyln with a huge forearm! He throws Dyln back inside the ring, sliding in with him. He heads to the ropes. Handsprings, and nails Dyln with a handspring corkscrew kick!

Will Ospreay sticks the landing, and takes a bow to the crowd, who, apparently, have all broken into song! 

“Because maybeeeeeeeee~

You’re gonna be the one that saves meeeeeeee~

And after alllllllllll~

He’s got an Oscutteaaaaaaaaaaa~” 

British wrestling fans, there’s nothing else in the world like em. 

Will Ospreay picks Dyln back up, and drags him back to his feet, popping Dyln with a stiff forearm, which drops Dyln down to a knee. Dyln is quick back to his feet, and as Ospreay tries to charge him, Dyln tries to leapfrog, but doesn’t stick the landing completely, and Ospreay uses the brief stumble to grab Blaine into an O’Connor Roll, shoulders down!

1….2… Kickout!

Blaine shoves Ospreay off, but as he sits up, Ospreay is quick to pop him right in the jaw with a Superkick! The experienced veteran of the two men tonight, Ospreay, using Dyln’s inexperience to his advantage! As Dyln is dizzied, on a knee, Ospreay charges the ropes and springboards off, looking for something that Dyln moves out of the way of. Dyln grabs Ospreay again, this time hooking his arms and looking for a backslide, but Ospreay frees his arm and throws Blaine off, before pulling him back, and throwing Dyln across the ring with the arm drag again! 

Blaine rolls to the corner, and tries to shake off the cobwebs, but as Blaine pulls himself up, Ospreay charges in and nails him with a huge flying forearm shot! Ospreay tries to whip Blaine into the opposite corner, but Blaine turns it around on him, sending Ospreay into the corner, but Ospreay leaps up onto the top rope, jumps, spins in mid air, and on the way down, catches Blaine with a Spanish Fly! Wow! The aerial expertise of The Aerial Assassin, Will Ospreay is something to behold!

Blaine tries to get right back to his feet one more time, but as he does, he’s caught and dropped again by a quick dropkick from Ospreay! Dyln rolls out of the ring, trying to recover, as Ospreay waves the UK crowd onto their feet, before measuring Dyln on the outside, turning, hitting the ropes, going for a dive… 

But Dyln cuts it off! Just as Will Ospreay was about to dive through the ropes, Dyln Blaine jumps up and nails him with a big european uppercut! That almost took Ospreay’s head off! Dyln back into the ring, charging the ropes, before leaping up grabbing Will’s head, and twisting in mid air to deliver a modified Tornado DDT, delivered without the assistance of the ropes! Will is spiked right ontop of his head, Blaine hooks the leg, looking to beat Ospreay here!

1….2… Kickout!

Ospreay out at two! Dyln gets up, a little frustrated that that last move wasn’t it, and immediately puts a boo right to Ospreay’s ribs. Dyln tells the booing crowd to shut up, before grabbing Will by the head, pulling him up to his knees, before just disrespectfully slapping the former IWGP World Heavyweight Champion right in the face! The disrespectful maneuver works to also keep Ospreay dazed, as Dyln picks him back up, and knocks him into the corner with another European uppercut. Dyln then traps Ospreay’s arms on the ropes, before rearing back, and delivering a stiff chop to the chest! Ospreay grits his teeth in agony, and tries to walk it off, actually turning his back on Blaine, and as Blaine tries push Ospreay into another corner, Ospreay actually puts a hand in Blaine’s face, and roughly shoves him right off! Blaine answers that with a forearm to the chin, knocking Ospreay into the corner, before following it up with a big back elbow, keeping the challenger dazed for the moment. 

Dyln slid to the middle of the ring, to create distance and build momentum, before charing back at Ospreay, landing another European Uppercut, before snapmaring Ospreay out of the corner, into a seated position, and then following it up with a BIG dropkick right to the back of the head! Dyln right back to his feet, drags Ospreay a little closer to the corner, before running, leaping, and launching himself down onto Will Ospreay with a big Imploding 450 Splash in the corner! Made even more impressive that Dyln did that down off the second rope, Blaine back into the cover! 

1….2.. Kickout!

Ospreay out at two once again. Ospreay is already back up to his feet, and Dyln runs a hand through his hair in frustration, before getting back up, and catching Ospreay with a forearm. Ospreay seemed to have had enough of the blows from Blaine at this point, though, and fires back, alternating between forearms and chops, nailing Blaine over and over again! Blaine is dazed, and Will hits the ropes, charging back at him, going for what looks like a Destroyer, but Blaine catches him, and turns it into a backdrop, before going back into the cover!

1….2… Kickout!

Ospreay kicks out! Ospreay rolls to the corner, and Blaine measures, before charging at Ospreay. Ospreay got out of the way, and tried to nail Blaine with a big forearm, but Blaine caught Ospreay, trying to drive him into the turnbuckles with a flatliner, but Ospreay caught Blaine with several hard elbows, breaking Blaine’s grip on him. Blaine stumbled back, holding his head, perhaps his equilibrium a little thrown off by those shots to the ear. Ospreay charged Blaine, before going for a wheelbarrow, which he rolled through into a victory roll, but Dyln is quick to shove Ospreay off of him, before the referee can even manage to count one. Dyln sits up again, but this time, as Ospreay tries the same trick, another Superkick like earlier in the match, Dyln evades, before kipping up to his feet, and catching Ospreay with a Superkick of his own! Will nearly gets his head taken off, and he’s dazed as Dyln lifts him up, and drops him with a huge backdrop suplex! Blaine into the cover again, to put Will Ospreay away!

1….2… Kickout!

Will kicks out again! Dyln, frustrated at this point, grabs at Will’s goatee and shouts at him to stay down, but Will, not standing for the disrespect from Blaine, shoves him off again and gets right back to his feet. Dyln huffs, frustrated that Ospreay isn’t going away, before charging him, but Ospreay sidesteps and sends Blaine right through the ropes. Blaine lands on the apron, and as Ospreay charges, Dyln tries to catch him with a shoulder to the gut, but Will wanted exactly that, and as Dyln leans through the ropes, Ospreay stops dead and nails him with a Superkick! Dyln gets ROCKED, and almost goes limp, put Ospreay insures he does by grabbing him and catching him with a stunner between the ropes, as Dyln’s body now hangs limply from the middle rope. Ospreay charges the adjacent set of ropes and springs off of it, looking for a springboard shooting star, but Dyln moves at the last moment, nobody home for Ospreay. Dyln runs along the apron and leaps up onto the top rope, measuring, and leaping off, catching Will with a Blockbuster from the top rope! Dyln plants Ospreay!

Dyln lands quickly on his feet, and measures Ospreay as Ospreay tries to get back to his, Dyln charging the ropes, looking for a Rocket Strap to maybe put this one away, but Will Ospreay catches him! Ospreay catches him and lifts him into what looks like it’s gonna be a Tombstone Piledriver, but instead Will throws Dyln forward, causing Dyln to land flat on his face! Dyln pops up to his knees, holding his jaw, but he’s about to have much, much bigger problems, as Will Ospreay charges from behind, and nearly takes Dyln’s head off with the Hidden Blade! Massive Hidden Blade elbow from Will Ospreay, Dyln Blaine might be out cold! Cover!

1….2… Kickout!

Dyln Blaine survives! But how much does Dyln have left in him here tonight?! Will Ospreay gets back to his feet, and signals for Dyln to get back up, as Will removes the elbow pad, and throws it into the fans, not playing around with Dyln anymore here tonight. Will measures for a second Hidden Blade, and as Dyln gets back to his feet, Will goes for it, but Dyln ducks, and slides behind Will Ospreay, looking for a German Suplex, but Will lands on his feet behind Dyln! Dyln gets shoved into the ropes by Ospreay, as Ospreay goes for a clothesline, Dyln ducks it, thinking he got the better of Ospreay, but as Dyln turns around, Will Ospreay springs off the ropes, and drops Dyln Blaine with the Oscutter! Crafty maneuvering from Will Ospreay there! Will goes down, clutching his neck, though, and can’t immediately grab at Dyln Blaine before Dyln rolls out onto the apron for safety. The high impact style of Will Ospreay takes its tolls on the body, and we may be seeing the effects of that here tonight in this match going forward.

Will gets back to his feet, and watches as Dyln pulls himself back up to his feet on the apron, using the ropes. Will charges up the ropes, and tries to twist himself in order to land an Oscutter on the apron, but Dyln catches Ospreay and blocks it, before Dyln jumps up onto Will’s shoulders, and drives Will down onto the apron with a HUGE Poison Rana! Holy shit! Will Ospreay’s neck might be broken after something like that!

Dyln tosses Will back into the ring, and grabs Will, before lifting Will Ospreay up, and driving Will down with a HUGE Liger Bomb, right in the middle of the ring! That might be it, Dyln Blaine into the cover!

1….2… KICKOUT!

Will Ospreay survives once again! Dyln gets back up to his feet, and calls for Will to get up, and as Will starts to rise back to his feet, Dyln charges the ropes, looking for the Rocket Strap, but as he jumps onto the ropes, Will shoves Dyln over the ropes! Dyln lands on the apron, but as he catches himself, he couldn’t be prepared as Will launches himself over the ropes, catches Dyln, and dumps him on the apron with a HUGE Flying DDT! Dyln’s head planted right on the hardest part of the ring! 

Dyln, maybe having just had his spinal column rearranged, gets thrown back into the ring by Ospreay, and somehow Dyln is already back on his feet, but not for long as Ospreay charges him and drops him with a Codebreaker! Double knees to the face, The Problem Child is down, and Will Ospreay is into the cover!

1…2…. Kickout!

Dyln hangs on! Will gets back to his feet, and urges the entire European crowd to theirs, as he could be looking to put this match away! Will measures Dyln as he gets back to his feet, looking for the Oscutter again, but Dyln catches Will and shoves him off, and tries to nail Will with a Superkick, but Will catches his leg, drops him, and locks Dyln into a Figure Four! Ospreay had Blaine trapped in the Figure Four in the middle of the ring! Ospreay wrenched back on the hold, as Bryce asked Blaine if he wanted to give up. Blaine insisted he didn’t, but the pain on his face as Ospreay continued to wrench back with the hold told a different story! Blaine may be just seconds away from tapping out to Will Ospreay!

Blaine was pulling on his own hair, trying to fight through the pain, trying not to submit while simultaneously trying to figure a way out of this hold! Dyln manages to start to drag himself to the ropes, and he manages to get himself into the ropes, forcing a break! Will Ospreay sighs to himself, but knows he has to keep pressing ahead in this one, keep pushing the advantage, trying to stay on Dyln until he gets put away. Will gets back to his feet, and grabs Dyln, catching him with a big chop to the chest, backing Dyln into the corner, before charging in and nailing Dyln with a big pump kick! Dyln nearly gets his head kicked off, but Dyln quickly responds by rocketing out at Will, and catching him with a big jumping enziguri! Will gets stunned, and Dyln lifts Will onto his shoulders, before throwing Will forward and catching him with a big knee to the face, popping Will Ospreay with Party’s Over! Ospreay drops to a knee, and Dyln backs up, looking to charge Ospreay again, but as he does, Will catches him, using Dyln to backflip and then trap Dyln’s arms, looking to lift him up for a Stormbreaker, but as Dyln is lifted into the air, Dyln instead counters and plants Will with a Frankensteiner! Dyln hooks the legs!

1….2… kickout!

Ospreay survives again! Dyln is quickly back up to his feet, watching Will Ospreay get back to his feet, before Dyln pops him with a big Superkick, trying to keep Will Ospreay in a daze. Dyln manages to roll back up to his feet, jump up, and drive the back of Ospreay’s neck into the mat with a Neckbreaker! Ospreay hits hard, and Dyln rolls off to the side, in order to try and recover some. Ospreay, meanwhile, rolls to the opposite corner, and was still finding it easier to get up than his younger opponent currently. Will gets back up to his feet and waits as Dyln struggles to his, charging, only for Dyln to whip around, twist in mid air, and LEVEL Ospreay with a Cyclone Kick! Blaine levels Ospreay!

Fighting with everything he has just to get back up to his feet, Dyln immediately makes an effort to start climbing up to the top rope. It’s slow going, but he manages, and sets his feet, but suddenly, Will Ospreay charges up the ropes, grabs Dyln, and sends him to the mat with a HUGE Top Rope Frankensteiner! Dyln hits the mat hard, and Ospreay immediately leaps back onto the top rope, looking for an Oscutter, but Dyln jumps up as Will leaps at him, catching Will with a big Dropkick in mid air! Will is stunned, and Dyln turns and hits the ropes, trying to charge Will again, looking for a Poison Rana, but Will shoves Dyln off, and gets behind him, before it’s Will’s turn to nail Dyln with a Poison Rana! The impact rolls Dyln up to his feet, and Will charges him, practically half falling backward, before BLASTING Dyln with a HUGE Hidden Blade!

Ospreay isn’t done either, as he perches himself in the corner, measuring Dyln as he gets up, looking for the a second Hidden Blade, but as he charges Dyln, Dyln catches him and shoves him off, knocking Will into the turnbuckles! Will is stunned, and Dyln takes advantage, trying to go for the Rocket Strap, but Will measures him in mid air, and nails Dyln with a Superkick right to the back of the head! Dyln might be out cold! Ospreay goes for another Hidden Blade, but Dyln ducks, and turns, charging the ropes, and as Will turns around, Dyln manages to drop Will Ospreay with the Rocket Strap! Goodnight, Ospreay! Dyln into the cover!

1…..2…. KICKOUT!

Will Ospreay survives! Holy shit! What the hell was Dyln Blaine going to have to do in order to put Will Ospreay down tonight?! Dyln drags himself back to his feet, and drags Will Ospreay back up to his, looking like he’s going to try and set Ospreay up for The Stormbreaker, but Will manages to shove Dyln off, catching Dyln with a boot to the face. Dyln tries to charge him, but Ospreay nails Dyln with a forearm, before grabbing Dyln and slamming his head into the top turnbuckle! Ospreay tries to do it again, but Dyln blocks this time, catching Ospreay with a back elbow. Dyln jumps up onto the second rope, but before he can do anything, Ospreay uses the ropes to leap up and catch Dyln with a big kick to the chin, knocking Dyln back off the ropes! Ospreay leaps up to the top rope, and as Dyln turns back around, Ospreay catches him with a BIG Missile Dropkick! Holy shit! 

Ospreay is fired up, and so is this crowd, as he gets back to his feet, measuring Dyln, before catching him with a spin kick to the gut, and then dropping Dyln to his knees with a big downward kick to the shoulder, and then blasting Dyln in the chest with another stiff kick! The educated feet of Ospreay Will Ospreay might be the most dangerous in the world, and Dyln is finding that out first hand! Ospreay takes a couple steps back, before charging in, and crashing down on Dyln with a Running Corkscrew Shooting Star Press! Cover! 

1….2… Kickout!

That was like 2.75, Ospreay nearly victorious there! Ospreay is undeterred though, measuring Dyln as he gets back to his knees, looking for another Hidden Blade, but Dyln ducks, and is quickly back up in the corner. Ospreay tries to charge in, but Dyln moves out of the way, before he catches Ospreay in the back of the head with a leaping enziguri! Ospreay stumbles back, and drops to his hands and knees as Dyln leaps up to the second rope, and crashes down across Ospreay’s back with a Swanton, before keeping his momentum going to roll all the way across the ring and back to his feet. With Ospreay now flat on his back, Dyln charges again, this time using the corner turnbuckles to launch himself up, and then crash down onto Ospreay with an Imploding 450! Then, to finish it off, Dyln picks Ospreay back up, before dropping him with a BIG twisting suplex, driving Will Ospreay down into the mat! Dyln hooks the leg, and this might be it!

1….2…. Kickout!

Ospreay survives again! Dyln Blaine, once again, trying to stay on top of Will Ospreay, picks him back up, and tries to set up for another Rocket Strap, running off the ropes, but as Dyln springs off the ropes, Will Ospreay leaps at him, catching Dyln in mid-air with a Hidden Blade! Oh my god, Dyln might actually be dead after something like that! 

Dyln gets dragged back to his feet, as Ospreay hooks his arms, looking for a Stormbreaker… 

BUT DYLN SOMEHOW TURNS IT INTO A FRANKENSTEINER! HOLY SHIT! Dyln hooks the legs, into the cover!

1….2… Kickout!

Will Ospreay kicks out, and in the process, Ospreay rolls through, and pulls Dyln up, before trapping Dyln’s arms behind his legs, before planting Dyln with a STYLES CLASH! Dyln planted face first, and Will rolls backward, getting back to his feet, before nailing Dyln with a massive, final Hidden Blade! Right to the back of the head!

With Dyln absolutely unconscious, Will takes a second to drag Will back to his feet, before lifting him up high in the air, and planting Dyln wiith one, big, final Stormbreaker! Down goes Blaine, and Ospreay floats into the cover!

1…..2….3!

“Here is your winner, Will Ospreay!” 

Will Ospreay is victorious here in his home country, after one of the most epic matches we’ve seen in an MPW ring!

[bunkershotgolf]

Ten Top Golf Stories 2022

By ED TRAVIS

Not since Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus engineered the 1968 split from the PGA of America to start the PGA Tour has the professional game been so wrenched from business as usual. The advent of LIV Golf, the well-financed competitor to the established professional tours, has changed the world of those who are paid-to-play. That’s our top story of 2022 and along with some other interesting happenings the year generated a lot of ink.

PGA Tour vs. LIV Golf LIV Golf, fronted by Greg Norman and financed by money from the Saudi Arabian royal family lured several top players from the PGA Tour with signing bonuses of $100 million and up plus promises of a limited field 54-hole no-cut eight event series paying prize money to every player regardless of score. The reaction in the usually laidback world of pro golf was as just short of volcanic. PGAT commissioner Jay Monahan withdrew membership status from the players who jumped ship since they now were playing for a competitor and violating their agreement with the Tour. Over the year acrimony and just plain mudslinging have been a stiff price to pay for what seems to many as Norman’s ego-driven revenge for the Tour stomping on his idea of a world tour 30 years ago. Those sticking with the PGAT will receive the benefit of multimillion dollar purse increases which may or may not take some of the sting out of LIV’s millions. Unfortunately, any settlement between the two sides is more likely to be in the courts than on the course.

Woods Hall of Fame Tiger Woods during his March induction into the World Golf Hall of Fame voiced uncertainty when he would return to the PGA Tour, and as we could have guessed—it was the Masters in April. He finished out of contention in 47th and made his next appearance at the PGA Championship when, visibly limping, he withdrew after a third round 79. The 15-time major winner then withdrew from the U.S. Open and missed the cut at the British Open. While he did not play for the remainder of the year his star power is still undeniable and the soon-to-be-47 Woods draws more attention than any other player by an order of magnitude.  According to Forbes magazine his net worth topped $1 billion thus joining Lebron James and Michael Jordan in that exclusive club.

She’s Baaack! Lydia Ko, the New Zealand native with the sparkling personality after a spectacular start to her LPGA Tour career all but disappeared from view reasserted herself with three wins in 2022 including the season-ending CME Championship taking home the $2 million first prize. After 14 wins her first four seasons she admittedly struggled and only was able to take the top spot twice in the next five years and 109 starts. That’s all changed now as she is this season’s leading money winner and overtook Nelly Korda as number one in the Rolex World Rankings.

A Damaged Legacy Phil Mickelson succeeded in shooting himself in the foot multiple times not only by bolting to the LIV series but for some borderline outrageous comments about the PGAT and obvious rationalizations of the LIV–Saudi connection. It’s too bad to have the Saudi-backed LIV Golf series as your legacy to a game that has been so good to you. Mickelson lost sponsorships with KPMG, Callaway and Workday plus was fired as spokesman for the American Express event on the PGA Tour. This year he did not play in The Players, the Masters, or PGA Championship but did in the US Open. It has been speculated Lefty’s gambling debts were perhaps a factor for grabbing the reported $200 million in cash for signing with LIV Golf.

Scheffler POY & McIlroy Number One Scotty Scheffler won the WGC Match Play Championship for his third win in 42 days and took over the top spot of the World Golf Ranking plus led in prize money for 2021-2022 with $14 million. His fourth win of the season at the Masters was a thrill for all golf fans even those numbed by CBS’s Tiger-centric coverage that featured multiple replays of Woods walking from the 72nd green to the clubhouse. Rory McIlroy overtook Scheffler for in the WGR with victories in the Tour Championship, Canadian Open and CJ Cup which also gave him the FedEx Cup and along the way he took his fourth Vardon Trophy and the DP World Tour’s Race to Dubai. Interestingly the native of Northern Ireland with 23 wins on the PGAT has become an outspoken critic of LIV Golf and Greg Norman while championing the American and European tours.

USGA Roll Back It’s a safe bet the USGA and R&A, arbiters of the Rules of Golf, are going to adopt a rule stipulating a reduction in golf ball or club performance particularly those played by the elites of our game…touring professionals and top amateurs. For the past several years the USGA has claimed players are hitting the ball too far and this is ruining the game with the only possible solution to be rolling back the distance a ball can be hit. The arguments against roll back are futile since the ruling bodies have already stated regardless of the opinion of others or it would seem, the facts, they are going to proceed. The only question it would seem is whether restrictions will be placed on golf balls or clubs or both. There are any number of comments that might be appropriate but the one this writer has had for many years is this is simply another example how out of touch the two associations are with average golfers.

LPGA Prize Money Increases Mollie Marcoux Samaan has already made history in just over a year as LPGA commissioner crafting a 33-event 2023 season that will have prize money topping $100 million for the first time, up from $85 million this year. The quality of the play has never been better with venues for next year such as Pebble Beach GL, TPC Harding Park, Shadow Creek and Baltusrol GC reflecting the increasing fan interest. The LPGA is a true world tour with sponsored tournaments in 12 countries and multinational membership.

Women & Golf—A Winning Combination The burgeoning numbers of women playing golf are apparent even to the casual observer. The National Golf Foundation says the number of women taking up the game has risen by 600,000 in the last two years golfers to a total of approximately 6.2 million. Retailers like PGA Tour Superstore have recognized this growing market segment and are actively promoting instore programs such as group lessons and proactively managing inventory for style and performance.

World Golf Hall of Fame moves to Pinehurst It was a great sounding idea. Build the World Golf Hall of Fame on Interstate 95 near St. Augustine, Florida, the route millions drive each year seeking fun in the winter sun. There were a lot of reasons attendance didn’t come close to projections and the PGA Tour, the driving force behind the Hall, feels moving it to Pinehurst, N.C. and making it a part of the new USGA testing facility will go a long way to ensuring a viable future.

PGA Show 2022 The January 2022 edition of the PGA Show, “The Major of the Golf Business,” was a shadow of pre-pandemic years as organizers attempted to recover relevancy after the virtual-only show in 2021. Major companies did not exhibit, and the number of attendees fell by 60%. For 2023 there is hope though, a recovery is possible as the largest golf companies such as Callaway, Acushnet, Cobra and Ping have signed up. The Show next January will be the 70th and it has been for decades the primary golf industry meeting not only for nurturing relationships with past customers but finding prospects for future business.

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.

Click for Rosé and Lisa

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.

You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.

Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.

When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.

Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.

Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.

Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.

"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."

"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."

"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.

"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."

Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.

You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.

Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.

Constant bickering and one liners in class

"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"

"Apoligize for what?"

"Ending your career."

*unintelligible mumbling*

"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I said: you're going down."

She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."

You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*

School would always be interesting and eventful with her

Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.

Turning Point

Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.

On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.

"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.

"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.

What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.

The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.

You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.

---

An Hour Later

In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.

"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.

"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.

You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.

Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.

"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"

You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."

She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.

"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.

"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"

"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.

With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.

---

30 Minutes Later

"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.

When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.

"Give it back, Y/N!"

"No!"

You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.

"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.

You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."

"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.

So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.

You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.

Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.

Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.

"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.

The Fallout

Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night

Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again

You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson

Subtle flirting at the competition the next day

Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude

"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.

"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.

The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."

He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.

"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.

"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.

Needless to say, you beat them.

Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner

Jisoo sat beside you

Cue the blushing and quiet flirting

It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush

It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said

It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world

After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).

As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.

"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.

You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.

You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework

Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.

She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion

You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.

So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.

"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."

"Fine."

The Turning Point

Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.

"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.

"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.

"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.

"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.

"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.

Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.

You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.

"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.

"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."

You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?

"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.

"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.

She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.

When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"

"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.

"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.

"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.

"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.

She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.

She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.

"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.

"Thanks, Jen."

Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.

"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.

Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.

When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.

"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.

"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.

She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.

----

45 Minutes Later

Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.

What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.

She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.

Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.

You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.

"You bitc--"

"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.

"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.

"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.

"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."

Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.

"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.

"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.

"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."

The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.

You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.

"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.

"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.

"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.

"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.

The Fallout

In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.

Walking her to class

Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff

Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways

Being patient with her

Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you

"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.

"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."

You were excited for the rest of class

You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.

"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"

You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.

[gamergirl929]

The Morgan Genes (Alex Morgan x Sister!Reader)

Anonymous Request:  Reader is Alex Morgans sister bus she’s a UFC fighter but the team doesn’t know that so one night in the hotel during camp one of her fights is on and the team is just like u have another sister who’s a badass, fast forward they go to one of her fights and Alex and her see each other for the first time in a while and the younger members of the team flirt with her

There’s little hints of Emily Sonnett x Reader sprinkled innnnnn as well! 

“Wait, THAT is her?”  

Alex rolls her eyes, smacking Kelley in the chest.

“You’ve met her!” She snorts and the defender shrugs.

“Yeah, 84 years ago.”

Emily snorts.

“Dramatic much?”  

She squeaks when Kelley lobs a pillow across the room, smacking her right in the head.  

“You bit-

Lindsey flaps an arm at her.

“Shhhhhh!”  

Alex smiles as you bounce around the ring, your Y/E/C orbs steely.

“Damn your sister is hot.” Emily shrugs, earning a glare from the veteran forward, who notices the other babies of the team nodding.

You smack your gloved hands together as you open your mouth, your trainer slipping your mouth guard inside.

Ashlyn wiggled eagerly.

“15 bucks on little Morgan getting a TKO in the first round?” She asks, turning towards Megan who hums.

“Nah, in the second…”  

Ashlyn holds her hand out with a grin.

“You’re on.”  

Alex claps giddily as the bell rings, you and your opponent advancing on one another.

“YEAH KILL HER!”  

Everyone’s eyes widen as they turn to Julie, the woman shrugging as Crystal and Carli stare at her in shock.

“Christ JJ.” Crystal sticks a finger in her ear and she shrugs.

Meanwhile, you’ve got your opponent down on the mat, pummeling her until the ref steps in.

You hold your hands up in the air innocently, the ref sharing a few hushed words with you.

“So all Morgan’s are spicy.” Christen giggles, earning a nod from Tobin.

“Yeah I can confirm that.”  

Alex rolls her eyes grinning as you run up the cage, backflip before you land behind your opponent.

A number of her teammates jump to their feet, Kelley jumping up and down on the bed as your fist connects violently with the side of your opponent’s head, knocking her out cold.

“YEAH! PAY UP BITCH!” Ashlyn punches Megan in the shoulder, the purple haired woman grumbling.

Alex can only grin at the elated look on your face, your grin massive as you hold your fists in the air.

You’re, of course, announced as the winner, and her teammates cheer, the seasoned forward giggling at her friend’s antics.

Alex smiles as you shake your opponent’s hand, as well as her team before you’re approached by a man wielding a microphone.

“Another stellar win Y/N, I’m sure, as we’ve all heard, the current champion’s comments about you, what would you like to say about that.”  

You shrug.

“Well she can talk a big game when I’m not around…”  

You turn to camera with a cocky grin, eyes as steely as they were at the beginning of the fight.

“So? How about you say it to my face?” You smirk, the man with the mic laughing.

“Never one to back down from a challenge, are you?”  

You grin.

“Not a chance… Morgan’s never surrender.”

Alex beams, Kelley giving her a nudge.

“Of course, who could forget Alex Morgan? One of the best forwards on the world, USWNT veteran, Orlando Pride-

You hold a hand up.

“Careful, if she’s watching you’re only stroking her ego…”  

Alex pouts, as you wave a gloved hand.

“I’m kidding, Alex Morgan is one of the best soccer player in the world, and I hope she’s watching.” You point at the camera and Alex holds her hands up.

“I’m watching I swear.”

She couldn’t wait for your phone call, couldn’t wait to tell you how proud she was of you, she was always proud of you.

“Well congrats again Y/N, I’ll leave you to your celebration.”  The man smiles, but before he can turn away you yell into the microphone.

“Hey USSF, equal pay, yeah it’s a thing get your heads out of your asses, get with the times you bastards.”  

Alex pinches the bridge of her nose, watching as you celebrate with your team before you climb the cage and hold your hands high.

“Well, I like her.” Kelley shrugs and Alex rolls her eyes.

“I’ll tell her you didn’t like her before.”  

Kelley’s eyes widen.

“Don’t say that, I liked her before!” She flails her arms.

“DUDE!”  

Julie dives on the bed beside her and Kelley, their eyes wide.

“We’re going to that championship match, I need to see Y/N knock someone out live.”

Alex grins.

“Well, when I find out when it is, you’ll be the first to know.”

Emily fans herself.

“I want to see those abs live…”  

Lindsey smacks her in the face with the pillow Kelley had thrown at her earlier.

“Stop being a pervert..”  

Emily scoffs.

“Like you weren’t distracted by them.”  

Lindsey hums.

“Touché.”

                                                            ***

It wasn’t until a month or two later that the match was made official, your first phone call of course being to Alex, the forward letting out a giddy squeal when she heard you were getting your first UFC title shot.  

“What is it?” Tobin asks as she flops down on the bench beside her, the forward grinning. She holds up her index finger, Tobin grinning as she watches Alex finish the call, hanging up before she turns to her with a dazzling grin.  

“Y/N’S GOT A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!” She squeals, her teammates on the field stopping play to celebrate.

“WHEN?!” Julie yells, everyone turning to her wide eyed.  

“Next month.” Alex beams, the blonde shaking her hands wildly.  

“YEAH! WE GET TO SEE Y/N’S ABS IN PERSON!” Emily cheers, every one of her teammates, expect the babies of course who can’t help but agree, face palms.  

Alex wiggles excitedly on the bench, Tobin throwing an arm around her.  

“Excited?” She grins and Alex nods.  

“MORE than excited.”  

                                                            ***

You were ecstatic.  

Alex was coming to see your match, not only Alex, but her entire team.  

You’d only met a few of her teammates considering you both were so busy all the time, but now, now you were meeting each and every one of them and you couldn’t wait.  

You rub your hands together, letting out a giddy squeal.  

Finally, your sister was going to see you perform, and she was going to see you perform in the most important match of your career.  

                                                            ***

You couldn’t fight off a smile as you ran to your sister, wrapping your arms tightly around her, the two of you all smiles as Alex cups your cheeks.  

“Look at you!” She laughs, tears in her eyes as she wraps her arms tightly around you.  

“No! Look at you!” You grin, lifting your sister in the air and giving her a spin, the woman giggling at your playful antics.  

“Where’s your pose?” You ask, the forward pointing over her shoulder.  

“If I know them, they’re probably raiding the snack shop.”  

A whistle sounds further down the hall and you roll your eyes.  

“Looks like it’s show time.” You smile, throwing your arms around her, giving her a tight squeeze, the woman kissing the top of your head.  

“Knock them dead...”  

Alex stiffens.  

“You know what I mean, not dead...”  

You laugh, giving her another squeeze before you sprint down the hallway.  

“See you in a bit!”  

“GOOD LUCK Y/N!”

                                                            ***

The next time she sees you, you’re swaggering to the octagon, face hard, emotionless, that is until you see her, a grin stretching across your face.  

You could never NOT smile around your sister. She was your role model, someone you looked up to, and when you told her you had an interest in the world of MMA, she only backed you up, wanting you to go for your dreams like she had.  

“Yeah, a LOT better in person.” Emily whispers in Lindsey’s ear, the blue-eyed blonde nodding.  

You stop at the edge of the Octagon, doing your signature entrance, kissing your gloves before you punch the bottom steps to the set of stairs leading into the ring, your trainers and team on your heels.  

Julie rubs her hands together, leaning towards Alyssa.  

“Ohhhh, Y/N’s opponent bout to get itttttttttttttt!” She sings, the goalie rolling her eyes as she throws an arm around her.  

“Am I going to have to hold you down the entire match so you don’t get in the ring?” She asks, a brow arched and Julie shrugs.  

“Maybe.”  

Alyssa glances around her, nodding to Crystal who wraps an arm around the blonde.  

“Please don’t.”  

Your trainer whispers in your ear, your Y/E/C orbs hard as you stare across the ring at the champion, the woman grinning as if she’d already won.  

Your nostrils flair as you move to your feet, joining the ref in the middle of the ring, along with your opponent, the woman snickering.  

“Awww, your sissy is here, makes this win even sweeter.” She whispers, holding her hand out and you smirk, taking it before tugging her forwards, your noses inches apart.  

Ashlyn turns to Megan, the two smirking.  

“That looks ga-

“Don’t.” Ali slaps a hand over both of their mouths and they huff in annoyance.  

“You’re right... It’ll be sweeter beating you in front of her.” You smirk, letting her hand go as you back towards your team, a cocky grin on your face.

“Spicy Morgans.” Kelley whispers to Alex, the woman giggling as you turn towards her, a small smile on your face.  

Alex nods, your cheeks inflating as you inhale loudly.  

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself, a single wink and grin from your sister, and her teammates making your nerves melt away, at least in that moment.  

Your trainer slips your mouth guard in and you nod, turning to face your opponent.  

“YOU’VE GOT THIS Y/N!” Kelley screams along with the other fans who are on their feet as you meet your opponent in the middle of the ring, this time the two of you ready for a fight.  

You briefly hear the ref talking, his voice reverberating through the arena as you stare daggers into your opponent’s eyes.  

“If you want to touch gloves touch gloves now.” He says, the two of you stepping back, away from one another.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh, shit.” Julie stuffs a handful of popcorn in her mouth, Alyssa and Crystal still holding her tightly, JUST in case.  

You glance over your shoulder at Alex, the woman’s tongue trapped between her teeth as she grins, giving you a thumbs up.  

The bell dings and you turn on your heels, advancing on your opponent.  

The fight was on.  

                                                            ***

You fall back to your side of the octagon, worse for wear than when you started, a gash on your temple bleeding profusely, your bottom lip lanced, something your team was taking care of to the best of their abilities.  

Across the ring, your opponent was in a similar state, lip split and nose crooked from a swift punch.  

“Come on Y/N!” Alex claps her hands and you swallow hard, eyes narrowing.

There was no way in HELL you were going to lose with Alex Morgan watching, not a chance in hell.  

The bell rings and the two of you face off again, the woman’s fists up.  

You see it, the opening you’d been looking for the ENITRE match.  

You spin on one foot, your opposite foot flying in the air, a swift kick to the side of her head sending her sprawling.

The arena ERUPTS, the loudest of those being of course, Alex Morgan, her scream rivaled only by Julie Ertz, Alyssa and Crystal still holding her so she doesn’t run around the arena and hurt herself.  

You climb on top of her reigning down punch after punch on the woman until you’re eventually pulled off of her by the ref.  

Tobin lets out a loud whistle, Kelley playfully punching Christen in the arm whereas, Megan and Ashlyn are trading a BIT harder punches.  

Emily and the other babies excitedly jump up and down.  

Alex watches in disbelief as you do a backflip, dropping down beside your opponent.  

“A LOT SWEETER!” You yell into her ear, letting out a battle cry as you dive on your team, hugging your trainers.  

It’s then you realize that your arm is literally coated in blood that had ran down from your temple and down your neck, the taste on your tongue metallic.  

Alex watches proudly as the ref in the ring holds the title, the coveted, UFC Women’s Championship, a title that was now yours.  

“YOUR WINNER. VIA KNOCK OUT IN THE 3rd ROUND, Y/N Y/L/N, YOUR NEW UFC WOMEN’S CHAMPION!”  

The title is handed to you and you beam, your team celebrating with you as you hold the title high.  

You burst from the cage and run towards your sister, neither of you caring that you’re covered in dried blood, the forward throwing her arms tightly around you.  

“I’m so, so fucking proud of you.” She whispers, kissing your uninjured temple.  

Alex cups your cheeks, her blue orbs locking with your Y/E/C ones, the woman shaking her head.  

“THAT WAS SICK!” Julie yells, your eyes widening when the woman tries to stand, being held down by Crystal and Alyssa.  

“Let me g-

“No Julie.”  

“Why not Julie?” She pouts and you snort.  

Suddenly another pair of arms wrap around you, arms belonging to Kelley O’Hara.  

“Oh my god, you’ve gotten large!” Kelley yells as you give her a squeeze, Tobin joining in on the hug.  

“It’s great to see you guys.” You chuckle, shaking your head when Kelley takes your title, jumping on the seats and holding it high, the fans cheering.  

“Go celebrate Y/N, we’ll see you in the back.” Alex grins, swiping the title from Kelley and passing it back to you.  

You grin as you climb the cage, straddling the cushioned top and holding your title high.  

You done it, you were now the UFC Women’s Champion, and you’d done it in front of your idol, your role model, your sister.  

You were on top of the world.  

                                                            ***

The next time you see your sister, you aren’t sure if you look better, or worse.

Your skin was absent of any blood, but now, your bruises were starting to form, one on your temple, and the side of your face.  

“I’m not sure if you look better, or worse.” Alex snorts and you shrug, slapping the title on your waist.  

“I’d say better.” You smirk.  

Lindsey clears her throat and Emily grins, she and the other babies of the team blushing.  

“Well, I think you always look good.” Emily shrugs, your eyes widening as much as they can since they’re swelled, your cheeks flushed.  

“Emily...!” Mallory slaps her on the arm and you snort.  

“What! You guys were saying the same thing!” Emily points at Mallory, before turning to Rose, Lindsey and Sam, lastly Tierna, the women shrugging, cheeks blood red.  

“I mean come on, she IS a snack.” Lindsey shrugs, and you glance away, your cheeks dusted pink.  

“Listen, we’ll draw straws, whoever wins gives her their number.” Rose shrugs, as if it’s the most plausible thing in the world.  

Your eyes widen as they wander off, your mouth agape as you turn to Alex, she and the rest of her teammates shaking their heads.  

“Can’t take them anywh-

Suddenly, Julie throws her arms around you.  

“DUDE THAT KICK WAS SICK YOU WERE LIKE YAHHHH!” She kicks her leg in the air and you snicker, shaking your head.  

“I wouldn’t have been able to win if it wasn’t for you all being in my corner.”

Kelley and Tobin ruffle your already messy hair, Christen smiling sweetly as the others join in, Ashlyn throwing an arm around you while Megan’s eyes narrow.  

“I need to stop betting with Ashlyn over you, she keeps winning.”  

You hum.  

“If it’s over me, do I get a cut?” You ask, Ashlyn’s eyes wide as she points at Carli, the woman’s eyes wide.

“YEAH! COMING CARLI!” She yells, the veteran forward’s brows arched as she drags her away.  

You snicker as Ali pats your back.  

“I’ll steal it from her wallet when she isn’t looking.” She winks and you throw your head back, letting out a belly shaking laugh.  

Your smile softens as Alex moves towards you, again cupping your cheeks.  

“Y/N Morgan, my little sister and the UFC Women’s Champion.” She grins, kissing your forehead and you grin, smacking your title.  

“At least you didn’t lose any teeth.” Kelley shrugs, everyone turning her with narrowed eyes.  

“I love you Al.” You whisper, the forward hugging you tightly.  

“I love you too.”  

“I DREW THE LONG STRAW!” You hear Emily yell and you snort shaking your head.  

“Please don’t let them kill me, I just got through ONE match.”  

“Give Em your number and she won’t kill you.”  

You shrug, humming as you glance at Emily, the hazel orbed blonde grinning.

“I mean she is cute.” You send her a wink, the blonde’s eyes widening.  

Alex shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.  

“She’s a bad influence.”  

Emily scoffs, LOUDLY, drawing attention from nearly everyone within a mile radius.  

“A BAD INFLUENCE!?” She shouts, aghast.  

The two start to bicker and you grin, shaking your head.  

You were the UFC Women’s Champion, something you’d wanted since you were young, something you’d earned under the watchful eyes of your older sister.  

And who knows, maybe you wouldn’t just win a title that day, maybe you’d find the girl of your dreams as well in Emily Sonnett.  

[charincharge]

I Don’t Want To Wait, four

rowaelin high school bff au  masterlist

The night Rowan spent snoring next to Aelin was the best night of sleep she’d ever had. After they woke in a tangle of arms and legs, sandwiched together, Aelin wrote an entire page in her journal about the amount of touching they did. She was incredibly upset that she was unconscious for most of it.

She was grateful for their all-nighter though, because in the week that followed, she’d barely seen him. He’d been at the mercy of Lacrosse practices, every morning and evening, doing drills and scrimmages until he could barely walk. She was especially annoyed because with morning practices, it cut into her special Rowan driving her to school time. Because there was no way she was waking up in time to drive him to the field in the morning.

However, today was finally the Lacrosse championship game, which meant that tonight, Aelin would get her best friend back.

She couldn’t wait.

Aelin had spent all last night making a Rowan’s Pump Up Playlist, to help him get into the zone today. He’d briefly mentioned that the cheerleaders were each assigned a varsity player to bake treats for, and Aelin refused to be outshined by some random cheerleader.

Aelin flipped through the playlist one last time. It was good. 47 songs in honor of the number on his, each one an empowering anthem or a self-assured ego boost. Plus, Aelin may have sneakily included songs that insinuated how she felt about him. She only hoped he would read between the lines.

She took her time dressing in green and gold, the school’s colors, and Aelin felt ready for game day. But she suddenly did not feel like waiting around for Rowan to come pick her up today. She wanted to see his face now.

So, in a last minute decision, Aelin rushed out to get them both coffees and headed to the small condo Rowan lived in with his Aunt Maeve. Black, no sugar or milk for Rowan. Hazelnut syrup and extra creamer for Aelin. She placed the hot beverage holder into her bike basket and took off.

Aunt Maeve was just heading out as Aelin pulled the coffees from her basket. Maeve greeted her with a large hug and a wide smile.

“You’re up early, hon,” she laughed, but Aelin smiled through her self-consciousness. She wasn’t really a morning person, but today was important to Rowan. And she wanted to be the best best friend she could be.

“Is he still out on his run?” Aelin asked, and Maeve shook her head, biting her lip conspiratorially.

“He actually didn’t run this morning.”

Aelin gasped an overexaggerated intake of air. She couldn’t fathom Rowan not running every single morning of his life. “No run?!”

Maeve laughed again. “Nope. He wanted to rest up before the big game. Poor thing looked exhausted last night. In fact, last I checked he was still sleeping.”

Aelin looked at her watch. 7:15. Most mornings Rowan was up at 5. If he was actually still asleep, Aelin would never stop mocking him for it. Plus, as she rediscovered the other morning, she really enjoyed a sleepy Rowan.

“Go ahead and wake him,” Meave said, but Aelin hadn’t waited to her approval to make her way into the condo. She made her way up the narrow stairs, coffee in each hand, and headed down the hall to the bedroom she knew so well.

Aelin fiddled with the old handle and pushed it open. The heavy door cracked open slowly, falling against Aelin’s body, so she had to slowly shove it with her hip.

One foot, one shoulder and half her face into Rowan’s bedroom, Aelin completely froze. Deer in headlights. Struck down where she stood.

Because Rowan was not asleep, as his Aunt had thought. Rowan was very much awake. Though his eyes remained closed, Aelin’s gaze fell to about halfway down the covers, where there was a lot of movement going on. She watched for a solid second, jaw unhinged, as Rowan’s hand moved up and down beneath his dark sheets, making a peaked shape with each vigorous movement.

Aelin gasped and blinked rapidly, realizing that she should exit the room immediately, but her gasp was too loud.

Rowan’s eyes flew open and landed on her, standing in his doorway, staring, and she watched as Rowan’s cheeks flooded with red.

“AELIN!” he squawked. “WHAT THE FUCK?” Flustered, she watched as Rowan grasped at his comforter, halting his movements to pull up the dark sheets to his chin, so nothing but this face was peeking out. “CLOSE THE DOOR!” Despite the volume, his voice was breathy and strangled, as if he’d just come from his run.

“Oh my gods,” Aelin mumbled, and she knew her cheeks would be redder than Rowan’s if she were to glance in a mirror. “Oh my gods,” she repeated, taking a step back and letting the door slam in her face.

Through the thick wood, she could hear Rowan groan loudly, but it was muffled by sheets. Gods. Aelin knew that Rowan was probably doing that. But to actually see it….? She thought her face might be permanently stained red with how hot she suddenly felt.

Aelin bit her lip, toeing at the beige carpet beneath her sneaker, wondering what the hell she should do now.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked out.

“AELIN, GO DOWNSTAIRS!” Rowan bellowed loudly from behind the door, and Aelin nodded, despite him being unable to see her face. “I’ll be down… soon,” he said softer.

“Kay,” Aelin replied quickly. “You don’t have to rush, or anything. I can… uh, wait. For you to… finish.”

“Aelin, please…” Rowan sounded pained, and she wondered if it was because of his embarrassment or other things. Nope. She was not going to think about that.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aelin repeated over and over as she stumbled her way downstairs to the small kitchen table. She slumped over the cheery yellow table and placed her head in her hands, willing her face to cool down. But every time she managed to calm herself, she’d remember the movement beneath Rowan’s sheets and become warm again.

When she heard the shower turn on overhead, Aelin placed her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut and willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She sat like that, even after she heard the heavy footfall of Rowan’s shoes coming down the stairs and tread across the kitchen floor.

She heard the sound of a chair scraping across the tile, but Aelin kept her hands over her face, unable to look at him.

Rowan sighed loudly and took a long sip of his coffee.

“Let’s talk it out,” he said, and Aelin finally peeked through her fingers. Rowan was freshly showered, hair still wet, and he was looking up at the ceiling, also unable to look at her.

“No way,” Aelin mumbled.

Rowan tugged at his hair. “Well, if we don’t I’m going to tank this championship game, and it’ll be your fault.”

Aelin groaned as he pulled her hands away from her face. Hands that were definitely just touching… elsewhere. He held her hands in his for a second on the table before pulling away.

“Fine,” Aelin conceded.

“You didn’t actually see anything, right?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head quickly. Rowan released a steady breath, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

“Great,” Rowan continued. “Then, it’s not a big deal at all, and we are totally fine and nothing is weird. I mean, it was weird that you walked in on it, but everyone does it, right?” He brought his coffee to his mouth and took a long sip, clearly needing to do something to stop his rambling.

“Uh, I’ve never but… yeah, I guess.”

Rowan stopped mid-sip and stared at her, looking as if she’d just told him the most insane fact ever. “You haven’t?”

Aelin shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat again. “I don’t think I know how?”

Rowan inhaled sharply, choking on his coffee, coughing loudly. Aelin buried her face into her hands again. Could this morning get any more awkward?

“You know, there’s definitely, uh, videos on the internet that could help with that.” He paused, his nervous smile expanding as he laughed at his best friend’s horrified face. “I could send you a few if you want.”

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not allowed to send me porn,” Aelin hissed. Rowan burst out laughing as he poked her cheek.

“I didn’t know your face could get this red, Ace.”

“Yeah, well, we’re learning a lot about each other this morning I guess...”

Rowan snorted loudly  as Aelin grabbed her coffee and stalked toward the front door, away from his mocking. She’d walked in on him but somehow, she was the one who was too embarrassed to function today?

“You know, I stayed up all last night making you a Game Day Playlist, but if you’re going to be mean, I’m not sharing it with you,” she said, and Rowan immediately backtracked, his face lighting up with excitement as he slung his arm over her shoulders.

“You did?”

Aelin nodded, pulling out her phone to show him the playlist. “I was just about to hit share, but maybe I won’t….”

He pouted, his green eyes widening. “I promise I’ll be nice.” He paused. “But also, you should ask Lysandra to teach you. I can’t imagine functioning without doing it every morning.”

Aelin had to bite her tongue from squeaking out EVERY MORNING?! But she just didn’t want to continue having this conversation, despite how badly she wanted to ask Rowan what he thought about every morning while touching himself. There were some questions she just couldn’t ask him, despite how close they were or how curious she suddenly was.

Instead, she hopped into his jeep and sent him the playlist. He connected his phone to his car with a grin and turned up the mix.

“47 songs?” His crooked smile made her stomach flutter, and he laughed as he pressed play and cranked the volume up. “Taylor Swift?”  Rowan scoffed.  “Really?”

“She’s the greatest songwriter of our time,” Aelin replied, sticking her tongue out.

“Maybe, but this fake rap shit is not it,” he laughed, scrolling to the next song. “Ah, much better.”

The first chords of Kanye’s “Power” filled the car, and Rowan took off.

By the time the pair made it to school, their morning awkwardness had completely melted away. And Rowan was in the zone for his game.

He was immediately bombarded by his assigned cheerleader, who, as Aelin had predicted, had baked him cookies. Aelin didn’t recognize the girl – a brown-eyed brunette, who looked every bit the male fantasy in her skin baring cheerleading uniform, her hair pulled up into a curled ponytail and her face displaying the number 47 on each cheek, batting her her curled lashes at her best friend. Aelin wondered for a brief moment what kind of porn Rowan had delved into, if this girl was actually one of his fantasies, but she immediately pushed that aside.

Aelin watched as Rowan smiled, thanking the girl kindly for his baked goods. And she pretended not to notice his eyes linger slightly at the green and gold ORYNTH printed across her chest. Or the way they fell to the short hem of her skirt as she walked away, throwing him one last smile over her bared shoulder.

Aelin looked at her own game day outfit – jeans and a t-shirt, and suddenly felt self-conscious, which she hated. Aelin never felt like this before. She’d never been the type of girl who suddenly compared herself to other girls, but … other girls had never smiled at Rowan like that, either. She suddenly felt a level of possessiveness rush through her. She linked her arm through Rowan’s, who looked surprised, but didn’t object to her closeness.

“Do you want my cookies?” Rowan asked, offering the plastic covered plate to Aelin, and Aelin accepted it greedily. “I think sugar might make me ill today,” he laughed.

“You’re going to be great,” Aelin assured him, knocking her hip against him.

“I hope so,” he mumbled quietly. She knew that Rowan was nervous about the game, but she hadn’t realized how much. As one of two sophomores on the Varsity team, she assumed he’d be seeing mostly bench time, but apparently that didn’t stop his nerves from taking over.

“You’ve worked so hard this season,” Aelin told her best friend and watched as his chest puffed out, swelling with pride. “No matter what happens, you’re gonna crush it. I know.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly.

“See you on the field,” Aelin said, as he dropped her off at her first class of the day. Double period algebra, ugh.

“I’ll be the one with the big stick in my hand,” Rowan replied with a smile, and Aelin snickered loudly.

“Been there, seen that,” she laughed, and Rowan’s jaw dropped.

“You said you didn’t see anything!” he hissed, and Aelin cackled and winked, and she watched as he realized what she was doing.

“You’re trying to distract me,” he laughed.

“Is it working?” she asked, and he smirked back.

He flicked her off as he shoved his earbuds into his ears, walking away to the rhythm of one of the songs on her playlist.

~*~

If you want to listen to Rowan’s Game Day playlist, check it out HERE

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[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 29- Fae Magic

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

BDubs and Stress take a trip to the eternal spring fields in eastern Lairyon, where they face lighthearted trouble and grim fates.

________________________________________

“Oh! That tingles.” BDubs giggles, feeling the hot, dry heat turn into a comforting warm breeze upon entering the magical barrier. Wet, damp air hanging with droplets soaking in the warm sun rays, clinging to the vibrant flowers and trees that turn the enchanted forest into a painting. Eternal spring among the Flowerfruit Fields, petals and berries of rare specimens growing in the wild space. Pink and green grow from the collapsed buildings, vines laden with fruit creeping down the roof. The vines and bushes overflow onto the thin green pathways of the roads and walking trails.

It’s the fruit and herbs that Stress and BDubs are here for. If they hope to face Dolios, and to help their friends ward off the darkness that attacks them, they need an antidote for dark magic. Stress thinks she found a potion that could reverse any ill effects- if administered in time. Unfortunate for the hermits, the ingredients are rare and unusual. No apothecary she visited had the ingredients she needed. Most they never even heard of. 

But if there’s one place she could find the ingredients, it was here in the fields. Foraging among neon green leaves and plump blue fruit. And if there’s one hermit that knows what weed is what, it would be BDubs- resident plant mage. And already, he’s like a kid in a candy store. “Amazing, I thought the starflower went extinct eons ago! Oh, is that a kipling scale vine? Absolutely incredible, stunning.” 

Stress snorts back a laugh. “How do you keep all that information in yer head?” 

“By removing non-important info, like how not to yell, or all my maths I learned in school. A-and names. If they aren’t a hermit, I don’t remember.” BDubs springs to his feet, grabbing the parchment of paper while Stress escapes the heat of her robes. It’s a little much, the fuzzy wool and thick fleece. She wraps the sleeves around her waist, revealing pale, toned arms and a bright pink undershirt. “Alright, what’s on the shopping list for today?” 

Together, the two forage across the field. Stress plucks leaves that BDubs points out, bags fruit that she remembers from the potion book, but no matter how long they searched, they could not find the rarest, most elusive ingredient of all- dragonfruit. Though BDubs has heard of the unique plant, he has no clue how it grows. Is it a vine plant, like a melon? Or perhaps arboreal, or bushgrown. After stabbing himself on the thorns of an estenberry bush, for the fifth time, he snarls defeat. 

“Aww, don’t give us that attitude, BDubs. We’ve been at this fer ages, it’s okay if we take a break.” Stress gazes at the sky, the sun already setting. They arrived here this morning, but all day among the fields has eaten up their daylight. A cold breeze nips at her nose, inviting her to set up camp. 

“No, I’m not stopping until this job is done!” He plunges his hands into a patch of star flowers, hoping that maybe he’ll find something in there. Instead, he feels the sensation of something cool but energetic running along the tips of his nails. The sound of bells rings in his ears. 

And Stress smacks her forehead, so hard that her pale skin turns as red as a Fi fruit. “The fair folk! Of course! They created the Flowerfruit fields, surely they’d know where we can find one of them dragonfruit!” 

BDubs snorts, brushing dirt from his fingers. “You actually believe in faeries? What are you, twelve?” 

“Would you-!” Stress claps her hand over his mouth, glancing from side to side, then glaring him down. “Of course they’re real, BDubs. What, you tellin’ me you’ll believe in dragons and plant monsters, but the other kind are too far outta the realm of belief?” 

The plant mage only nods his head, glancing around at the evening field. Fireflies dance in the blue night sky, and bunnies hop across the trails, from fruit to fruit in search of their next meal. He sighs, backing away. If there’s one thing he learned, it’s best not to trifle with any of the girls. Cleo and False could run him through with their blades if he crosses them- which, admittedly, takes a lot to do. But he’s also the master of annoying people. Stress however… she needs no weapon to make an impact. “Alright, we’ll look for your faerie friends, if you think it’ll help.” 

Stress’s smile is worth backing down on this argument. Seeing his friends happy is what he loves to see most. BDubs follows the ice blue trail of her robe into a thicket of trees, dancing around the rare and exquisite herbs growing at his feet. He can hear the sound of bells ringing in his ears, soft and sweet, just at the cusp of sounding like voices and laughter. Some of the dancing fireflies cast shadows that look bipedal, but he chalks it all up to his weary body. Stress and him had been traveling for days to arrive here, only to jump right into searching for ingredients. Ingredients that now swing in pouches and vials on his and Stress’s waist. 

All except for this ridiculous dragonfruit. He can’t help but grumble to himself as he follows Stress. Why would a dragon even want fruit? Are they omnivores? It sure didn’t seem like it at the championship. Do they grow them, is that why? What he wouldn’t give to see a massive dragon tending to a tiny dragonfruit plant, tilling the soil and watering it at the mouth of their caves. 

BDubs is yanked out of his own thoughts, Stress grabbing him by the arm and nearly throwing him into the mossy grass at her feet. He’s about to whine about the rough takedown, but she falls to the floor next to him. “Look!” 

The two peer through ivy and bushes. Before their eyes, mushrooms and toadstools grow and glow in the moonlight. Pink flowers of cherry blossom trees sway, petals falling to the verdant floor in a storm of rose. Fireflies dim to reveal the festivities inside the ring. Dozens of fae, dancing with bare feet across the soft moss. Their laughter sounds like tiny bells, harps and pipes filling the air as if it were a human orchestra. No matter their tiny size, the music rose well beyond the center of their festivities. 

Stress reminds herself it’s rude to eavesdrop. She crawls through the bush, about as unlady-like as she can get, but announces her arrival. “Hello, fair folk!” 

The fae rise on dragonfly wings, an aura of light following them as they dance upon glitters and gusts. They bow and welcome Stress to the Flowerfruit Fields, though the music grinds to a halt and the glimmers turn red. Stress realizes what’s wrong, and elbows BDubs in the stomach. Hard. “Ow! Alright, Hello, other kind or whatever.” 

“Don’t ruin this, be polite.” She growls under her breath, amber eyes turning icey. “Just...follow my lead.” Stress turns away, walking into the clearing. Careful to avoid stepping within the faerie circle. “I’m the Ice Mage, and that’s the Plant Mage.” 

“My name is-” BDubs howls as a heavy snowboot lands on the arch of his foot. “Yep, that’s me, the Plant Mage.” 

A young faerie, hair a dark halo of curls bouncing against deep hued skin. Pink petals stitch into clothing, a smile for jewelry and raindrops for gems. “Welcome, mortal mages! For what reason do you enter our forest? Do you wish to join in our celebrations? Perhaps you would like some food?” 

At least this time, BDubs waits for Stress to tell him no. They do not enter the faerie circle, nor do they accept the food. “Actually, we’ve been lookin’ fer something all day long, and if there was anyone who would know where to find the final ingredient to our list, it would be the very people that created these fields.” 

Just like BDubs, fae like their egos stroked. The fae accept the kind comments, a few playing with Stress’s short brown locks. BDubs steps away, unwelcome to the idea of tiny, glittery creatures touching him in any way. “Of course, we would love to show you our wonderful creation. Eternal spring, the time of birth and celebration!” 

The faerie attempts to lead Stress into the circle, but she’s too clever to be caught in their trap. She’s a woman raised in high society- she can sniff out trouble a mile away. “We searched all day, but could not find the last ingredient we need.” 

“A dragonfruit.” BDubs finishes, wringing his hands. If he gets his hands on the seeds of this rare plant, he’ll propagate it in his own jungle garden, until no one ever has to stick their hands in a fi fruit bush ever again in search. The fae around him titter, and he catches only snippets of the gossip and conversations around him. Something about the rarity of the fruit, the tender care needed, like it was a jewel or child. How much time it took for the fae to find one. He sneers, turning his back on the petite party. “Forget it, they don’t have the ingredient Stress. They just want to force us into their weird little realm they’ve got.” 

“BDu- Plant Mage!” Stress claps her hand over her mouth. He said her name. Not her full name, thankfully, but it’s one piece to the puzzle the fae could use in their tricks. She turns back, kneeling to the tiny troublemakers. She has to pick her words carefully. “Please ignore my ignorant friend, he didn’t mean what he said. Your help is greatly appreciated from me, and my appreciation spans to him.” 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you so much for all the help. I dunno about you, Ice Wizard, but I don't see a dragon-” His whining morphs into squeaking, and laughter crowds the illuminated air around Stress. Her fellow hermit is no longer at her side. A rabbit is instead. No, wait. Stress would know that tuft of hair between large, floppy ears anywhere. 

“He runs his mouth like a bunny.” The pink faerie giggles. They turn their attention to Stress, a glint in their eye matching the mischievous tone of their voice. And Stress thought the look on Grian’s face was trouble. “Unfortunately, bunnies cannot carry a dragonfruit. And I don’t think we’d want to give such a rare fruit to ungrateful humans. No no no!” 

“Fair folk, we humbly request your kindness. My friend here is an idiot-” She yelps as sharp bunny teeth nip her fingers. “And a right meanie. But we need the fruit. This potion is crucial to the safety of all Lairyon. Please, if he apologizes consider giving us the dragonfruit.” 

“An apology will not be enough.” A fairy with a red aura and lanky wings deems. “Apologies are worthless to the fae. Your belittled bunny here must prove he is sorry, and lower his crown to that of jester to be granted reprieve.” 

Stress glances at her furry friend, but he shakes his head, crossing his paws in defiance. “It’s a deal! What’s one little prank gonna do?” 

The fields flurry around the two, separating Stress from bunny BDubs. One faerie settles on Stress’s shoulder, warning her she should stay back. They don’t want the kind human to be caught up in the misgivings of the illfated. Another faerie drops a flower crown atop Stress’s head, though Stress is careful not to accept any food the fair folk offer. 

BDubs, on the other hand, is picked up by his fluffy cotton tail by three different fae, their laughter a cacophony of bells. His tiny claws dig into the dirt, but the otherworldly beings are must stronger than his thumper feet, and they succeed in pulling him to a faerie well. The pink aura fairy flits to the stone siding, casting dust into the ripples as if she were sowing seeds. The water turns a milky shade, swirling like clouds trapped in the ground. Mist pours from the sides. 

Fae pull BDubs off the ground, suspending the rabbit above the well. “Enjoy your nap, Plant Mage.” 

Stress joins in the raucous laughter from all around the forest, and a short squeak is cut off when the faeries dunk BDubs into the well. He doesn’t stay under for long, but when the faeries pull him out, his eyes are closed and mouth lolled open. Somehow, even in a rabbit’s body, BDubs manages to snore. Stress raises an eyebrow. “Is that all?” 

The fae go silent, the entire forest echoing only the sound of BDubs fast asleep, apart from a snicker here and there. A squeaky, high pitched voice breaks the silence. “Nonono, big gummy bear, I’m not cherry flavored. I swear.” 

Stress realizes the voice is coming from the rabbit, and a snort slips through her lips. The forest roars with laughter, as BDubs continues to dream aloud. His dreams jump from ridiculous statement to ridiculous statement. Stress was sure she heard the weirdest things come from BDubs before, but she can’t help but howl like a chupacabra when BDubs mumbles out his secret enjoyment of diamonds. “Guess someone ‘as rubbed off on ya. Better remember to wash my coins and jewels when they come from both of ye now.” 

Feeling fuzzy both inside and out, BDubs coughs up a hairball from his throat. He opens his eyes, rubbing them from sleep, before realizing he is fuzzy. He’s still part rabbit, in the midst of transforming back from bunny to human. Paws turning to hands, ears shortening back to be beneath his bandana. The young faerie donned in pink settles their arm against BDubs’  bunny feet. “So, how was your nap?” 

“That was the wor-” Stress cuts BDubs off, eyes blazing hot enough to melt all the ice in Lairyon. The last thing he should be doing is rebuking the fae. Again. BDubs groans, but voice pitches to a sickly sweet tone. “I had a wonderful nap.” 

The fair folk all in the fields laugh and cheer, some zipping away to tell others of the fun they missed. It’s a rare delight to have such entertainment, such a witty human that can still fall for their pranks. The young faerie in pink disappears among the bushes, and returns with a bag full of small black seeds. “We fae keep our word.” 

“Th-” BDubs remembers not to say those words, and simply bows his head in response. “Great kindness, i guess or whatever.” 

“We will miss your company.” They snicker. “We would love to have a romping rabbit to bemuse us...and of course, the kindly Ice mage. Take good care of these rare seeds, they require the care of a beast, much like their namesake.” 

BDubs takes the pouch, securing it right next to his heart. He’s going to sleep holding these seeds after what he’s been through. The two hermits rise, about to make their way from the fields when a green light collides into BDubs’s head. “Can I not get a godsdamned break here?” 

The faerie that ran into him shakes off his stupor, voice running so fast it sounds less like talking and more like chirping. Stress turns to look at the fae. “What’s the problem, loves?” 

Faeries rush around them, flitting around in every direction with no sense of purpose or precedent. The young pranking pixie starts to fly away, but stops dead in the air. “No, no that will not do. The dark presence is too close.” 

“Dark presence? What do you mean?” Stress follows the faerie, but they turn on the hermits. A hand as small as Stress’s pinky nail passes between hermit and other kind. BDubs moves to follow, but discovers he can’t pick up his feet. It’s as if they are rooted into the ground. 

“Be the light.” The faerie breathes, before disappearing in the brambles and bushes. Stress cries, watching as her robes turn to bark, bones to wood. Her feet have become roots, and it’s climbing higher. 

BDubs reaches out to help his friend, shock dawning on his face as his fingers turn to branches, bright pink cherry blossoms blooming. The transformation engulfs Stress’s face, Features turning to knots and whorls of the grain. He can only close his eyes, and accept that they’ve been tricked by the fae again. 

Except when he opens his eyes, he can still see. He cannot move, cannot even breathe, but he remains able to see the outside world. He feels a brush of leaves against his own branches, and that’s all he needs to know that Stress is alive as well. 

Why have the fae trapped them? Why turn them to trees, but let them see the world beyond? 

Screams fill the air where there was once birdsong and laughter, the peace of the Flowerfruit Fields shattered. BDubs surges forward, but is stopped by his own roots and rigidity. A howl sends shivers down his leaves, and in the moonlight, a shadow beast prawls through the grove. A varkolak husk, red foam dripping from it’s misty muzzle, sniffs the air before chasing after fleeing lights.

Stress can’t watch. She closes her eyes, hearing the husked creatures snarl and snap, and a distant chuckle begins to arise from the bloodbath. She keeps her eyes closed, until that charismatic voice warms across the massacre. “Such raw magic...so ethereal, why haven’t I thought of coming here before?” 

Three spires of black crystal orbit around Dolios’s crown, mist swirling. With each breath Dolios takes, he consumes the dark magic. Red splatters across his cheek, droplets falling from the hairs of his perfectly kept beard. Eyes glimmer with curiosity as a faerie is dangled from between his fingers. 

A crystal lowers from the angled orbit around the Magistrate’s head, and a shadow falls over the cherry blossom tree. Transparent mist swirls like midday clouds, a low rumble of a magic spell escaping under Dolios’s breath, followed by a cut off scream, scraping like a bell. 

When the shadow disappears, there is no faerie left. Only the magic, the power writhing through Dolios’s veins. The magistrate looks around, and for a moment Stress fears he knows they’re not real trees. But he steps over the corpses on the ground, faeries sapped of their power fading away into nothing. Not even a husk. 

The stolen magic disappears under Dolios’s golden hemmed sleeve, and his hands clasp behind his back. The husk monsters continue at the simple nod of his head. Leaving behind in his wake a bloodbath, and the ashes of what once were the fae of the Flowerfruit fields.

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 3: Rookie Hazing?

(Lyn)

My breathing fell into my familiar breathing pattern as I jogged through the town. The early morning sun was peeking through the clouds, trying to be seen. My music was blasting through my earbuds as I turned to go through the walking trail this morning.

Today was the first day of actual classes and practices. Me and a few of the others already have been to the pool a bunch this week, but this is when shit got real. After the disappointing loss to Turner University at last year’s AUS, Coach Jacob and team really wanted to get the title this year. It was one thing to lose, it was another thing all together to lose by 1 fucking point. Ugh, even just thinking about it pissed me off. Turner is a good school, don’t get me wrong. But man, we worked our assess off last year.

I passed by an older couple going out for their usual morning walk. I waved to them as I always do, earning a smile in return. I liked the coziness of this small town. Being able to see the same people every morning doing their routine as I did was relaxing and brought a sense of calm to my otherwise chaotic life.

I sprinted the final couple of kilometers home, slowing down as I approached the track around the football field. Loryn, Maddie, and Andrew where already there, chatting as they stretched for their early morning workout.

Loryn smiled when she saw me coming and tossed me my water bottle. I pulled out my music and took a huge swig from it. “Thanks, I really needed that,” I said. I lifted the end of my shirt and wiped the sweat and water off my face.

“No problem-o,” she responded. “How was your run?”

“Same as usual,” I said as I take another drink.

Andrew walked over and gave me a huge hug. “Ready for the season, Lyn?”

I nodded into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt. Andrew was the captain of the Men’s team, and he was like an older brother to me. This was his last year on the team, and I really wanted to win the championship for him and the other 4th years. They put so much into this program, and just one win would be an awesome reward for them.

“Please don’t cry, or I might start too,” he mumbled.

“Not crying,” I pulled away, grinning at him. “I’m just thinking of how lame the team’s gonna be once you finally retire from it. Are they gonna make Will the captain next year, because like, yeesh.”

This earned a laugh from Andrew. “Well, I frigging hope not. Y’all better vote for Oliver, or Thom. If Will gets the captain position next year, you’re all doomed.”

“Fuck me with a rusty screw if Will gets it,” said Maddie bitterly. “The only thing bigger than his ego is his Hummer. I swear, I will never get over his parents airlifting that thing across the fucking country.”

It’s not like we hated Will or anything, he just was a huge pain in the ass. Both his parents are doctors, and he makes a point of letting you know how much money he has. During his first year here, apparently, his parents had his Hummer helicoptered across the country so he could have it here. Not sure why he didn’t drive the damned thing instead, but the rich do very extreme and extravagant things to prove their wealth. Maddie is a 3rd year like Will, so she’s been putting up with his Will-ness longer than Loryn or I.

We did our usual morning workout routine, just to get used to the rhythm again. Medicine ball tosses to each other with an added squat. After that, 2 sets of 20 jackknifes, 2 sets of 25 crunches, and 2 sets of 1 minute plank. We did our wheelbarrow run across the football field, giggling like fools as we did. Andrew and Maddie beat me and Loryn by a fingertip. Loryn jokingly apologized for being too short, a running joke on the team.

After that, we headed to food hall. Loryn liked to make fun of me for calling it that, since it was technically called meal hall, but that’s where I get all my food, not just meals. Hence, food hall. Still, she immediately started teasing me as we got near it.

The hall was abuzz with all the new frosh and returning students talking about their classes. It was nice to see this place so lively after being essentially dead for the week. I could already hear people talking about going to First Class Bash, the big first party of the year. I never really went to those often, parties that is, since the team had a drinking ban in place as soon as the season started. Maybe if some of the guys on the team wanted to go I would, but I was just as happy to stay in with the goofballs and have our own get together.

Oh shit, speaking of. The rookie party was this weekend, actually. It almost slipped my mind. Today was their official first day. It may sound weird, but Coach Jacob liked having them come for their own practice to get used to each other and the facilities first. That way, if they don’t feel like sticking around, there’s none of that awkward shame of seeing your ex-teammates on campus. Not that anyone actually gave a shit.

I sat down next to Matt and Kerry, two members of the team. They were nearly identical twins, but with different body builds since they swam different strokes. Matt was bulkier in his shoulders and trunk cuz he swam butterfly like I did, while Kerry was leaner but a bit bowlegged from swimming breaststroke for so many years. Kerry was letting her hair grow out after shaving it last year, and it was tied up in this stupidly adorable tiny ponytail, while Matt had shaved his hair into practical buzzcut. Kerry leaned over once I was settled and pointed.

“Did you see?”

“Did I see what?” I asked as I shoved the whole fried egg into my mouth.

“Derek is sitting with Poppy.”

I rolled my eyes. Derek Freeman was one of my exes from last year. Lyn from first year got a little crazy when it came to dating, and I ended up going through 6 different people before finally calling it quits. Derek was one of them, but he was by far the worse. He got super possessive and couldn’t understand why I dumped his creepy ass. He always knew my schedule and followed me everywhere. He would wait for me outside the pool and walk back to my res with me, which would have been super sweet if he didn’t ask to come inside every single time. Even after we broke up, he still followed me places. Eventually he got the message once I started dating Willa Hoffman, but man was he annoying.

Then there was Poppy. There was nothing wrong with her, per se. We just were partners on a project last year and she nearly cost me getting an A+ in Intro to Sociology, much to my annoyance. I cared a lot, maybe a little bit too much, about my grades. So, yeah, there’s nothing that really pisses me off more when you get stuck with a shit partner for a project.

“Honestly, Ker, I don’t care,” I said. “Hell, they deserve each other IMO.”

Kerry shrugged as she got back into her seat properly, finally letting Matt get back to eating. We ate in comfortable silence before Matt spoke up.

“Gunner is on probation.”

I dropped my fork in confusion. Even Kerry looked confused. “What do you mean, Matt?” I asked, leaning against the table as I did, locking eyes with him.

He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Okay, don’t tell anyone because I’m not supposed to know, but Gunner was caught doing drugs this summer. Like, coke. Anyway, Jacob heard about it and helped him through rehab and stuff, but the dean put him on probation until his grades and attitude prove that he actually got clean.”

“Shiiiiiiit,” I pushed my tray away. Leo Gunner was the best sprinter on the team, leading the Men’s team to having great scores in the relay last year. If he wasn’t allowed to swim this season, we might be in serious trouble. There was no one as fast as him. The next best would be Parker, and even then, he wasn’t near Gunner’s level.

“Oh, that’s awful,” said Kerry, putting her hand over her mouth.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, it’s shit for sure. I talked to him this morning and apparently, he’s allowed to practice, but he might not be allowed to sign up for the meets. I think Jacob might bring it up to Andrew and Emma today, but he might not let the rest of the team know just yet.”

The information sat heavy in my stomach. I walked all the way to my class with my mind racing, wondering if there was any way we could fight this decision. All conclusions came to a resounding no. The university was pretty strict about athletes using illegal substances. They only thing that probably saved his ass was that it happened this summer.

I took my usual spot near the front, waiting for the rest of the students to fill in. This was a second-year history course, and I really wanted to be psyched for it, considering history was my favourite subject, but it was hard when I was worrying about things out of my control.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked over and nearly groaned when I saw it was Will. I nodded, but he was already taking the seat anyway. I hated sitting next to Will, he just sat on Instagram the whole time, or TikTok. Fuck my life right now.

He reached over and tugged on my ear. “Why the long face, Lyn?”

I batted his hand away. He knew I was self-conscious of how big my ears were, and he liked to pick at that at any opportunity. “No long face here, Will.” I forced a grin onto my face before turning my attention back to my desk.

“Whatever you say.”

Ugh, def getting a new seat on Thursday. I can’t deal sitting next to him and dealing with his antics at practice too. There was only so much abuse one gal could take for the day.

XXX

Thank God it was Friday!

I managed my schedule perfectly, so I had no classes on Friday. It made the other days more miserable for sure, but having a three-day weekend every week? Exactly what I needed to stay on top of things this year. Just practice in the afternoon, and I was free to enjoy myself. The rookie party was tomorrow, and they were a good batch. Loryn’s younger sister Robin joined the team this year, which was super exciting for her.

I got to enjoy breakfast without having to rush it, plus no homework was assigned this week. Today was a nice one, and I was looking forward to just being able to chill and enjoy it. As I left, I happened to notice that Ally was leaving the food hall. Grinning, I raced over to where she was.

“Hey, Ally!” I fell into step beside her.

“Lyn!” Ally looked up at me, a smile breaking out. She had her hair in this half up pinned style, it looked really good on her. Also, she was wearing different glasses today. She usually wore some rectangle ones, but these ones were like a half moon shape.

“How’s your first week, frosh?” I asked.

“Well, after the disaster that was the bookstore incident…” she looked down, thinking about something before shaking her head. “It’s been lovely. I think once I get into a nice routine, I won’t feel as anxious.”

I was curious about the whole bookstore thing, but I respected that she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it openly with me. Fair enough, we only just met last week, and I barely have seen her since.

“Hey, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far! Is it cool if I walk with you until your next class? I’m free.”

“Oh,” she smiled shyly at me, “that would be really nice, actually.”

I smiled back. We chatted about her classes all the way to Bennet, where her class was. I leaned against the wall as she finished explaining something about her drama class. That was a class I took in first year, but it sounds like she has Professor Kinkly, whereas I had Professor Statton. Kinkly was more by the book, Statton was know as the campus kook. I had a feeling Ally was gonna like Kinkly more.

“I guess I should head in, huh?”

“I guess you should. But hey,” I said, “we should totally hang this weekend, you know? Whatcha doing tomorrow?”

Ally looked contemplative before shaking her head. “Nothing, I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s grab a bite to eat, and you can finish telling me all about your week.”

“O-okay, sounds great!”

Ally wished me a goodbye and dashed inside, as to not be late for class. I watched her go before snorting under my breath. I liked her, she was smart and funny. It would be nice to have someone as a friend outside the team. Guess it was just my lucky day when she approached that table I forced Loryn to help me set up.  

Feeling great, I practically skipped all the way back to my res.

XXX

The smell of chlorine was something that was never going to get old. It calmed me when nothing else could. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but the pool is my second home. Didn’t matter how I felt at home or school or whatever, I could come to a pool and swim those thoughts and troubles away.

We finished with our pre-practice routines, and I jumped into the pool, shivering a little as the cold water enveloped my body. Right away everything felt amazing. Reach, pull, reach, pull. The easy lazy rhythm of the warmup let my thoughts drift away. It was nearing the end of the warmup when I caught Andrew’s eye underwater during my turn, and we ended up racing our last 25 meters. He beat me and we high fived as I hung onto the lane rope.

Coach Jacob laughed as the others finished their warmups. He was a retired swimmer himself and did things to keep himself in shape. He had one of those kind faces that really made you feel welcomed. Sure, he could be a hard ass, but he just really wanted win, like we all did.

He read practice off the board for us, and we did as was instructed. In in a blink of an eye, practice was over, and we were all hauling our asses out of the pool. Practice wasn’t too hard today, but since it’s been a while since any of us had structure like that, we all felt the ache of the week catching up with us finally.

“Okay, gather ‘round!” Coach Jacob called out. We all headed towards the bench and took seats. Loryn sat next to me and we cuddled, trying to not freeze as we listened to what he had to say.

“So, this is the last year for some of us,” he indicated the 4th years with a nod, “and a new beginning for others,” a nod to the 1st years. “However, the goal is the same. We wanna be number one at AUS’s this year. We wanna send people to CIS’s this year. We wanna kick Turner’s stupid butt all over the pool deck. We start morning practice next week, 5:30 sharp, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Gym time is 6:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. We have our usual afternoon practice at 4:30 every day. If you can’t make practice, the reason better be fucking good. Rookies, never be afraid to ask questions. These guys are your family while you’re here, and like family, sometimes we don’t always get along. But try your best to stay pleasant with the others. Lastly, welcome to the Mount Seamus Wolves!” he finished with a huge grin. We clapped and headed into the locker rooms, where a hot shower was calling my name.

“Man, I am looking forward to the weekend!” Loryn said with a huge stretch as we grabbed our shampoo and conditioner.

“Me too,” I said with a grin. “I already made plans.”

“Oh my God, shut up! Who with?”

“That cute frosh from last week.”

Loryn scrunched up her face in thought. “Gabriel or the brunette you showed around?”

I laughed, hitting her playfully with my towel. “Dude, you’re the only one who thinks Gabe is cute, you know?”

“Not true! I know Jackie does too!”

“Damn right I do!” Jackie said, walking by us with a laugh.

We all laughed as we turned the water on. It felt great to take a hot shower after practice. We were gossiping about people on campus when I noticed something strange.

“Emma, are you okay?”

Emma, the captain for the Women’s team, looked over. “Huh, why you ask?”

I blinked. “Because you’re covered in…blood?”

She looked up and shrieked. Sure enough, something red and gooey was coming from the shower head. Actually, it was coming from all the showers! We all screamed and ran out, not even bothering to turn them off.

“What the actual fuck?” Emma was shaking with either anger or fear, wasn’t sure which it was. “Did someone think it would be funny to prank the rookies or something?” She whipped around to glare at all of us.

When no one fessed up, she growled in annoyance. “Okay, maybe one of the guys thought it would funny? Whoever did this, it’s seriously fucked up. Getting sprayed with fake blood is not how I wanted to end my Friday night!”

“Uh, not to be that person, Emma,” I said hesitantly, “but if it was fake blood…wouldn’t it have stopped by now?” I pointed over to the running showers, where a steady stream of red was still coming out.

Emma’s face paled. She looked at her hands, where the blood was and sniffed it. “Oh my God…it smells like copper.”

That’s when Jackie threw up all over the floor and Kerry burst into tears.

XXX

I was in my room, curled up under all the blankets I could possibly be curled under. We texted the boys after, to see if something similar happened to them. When Andrew and Matt both responded no, we got even more freaked out. We ended up calling campus security for them to see if there was something they could do about it. They said they would look into and escorted us back to our residences. I took such a scalding hot shower that I was still pink from it, but I still didn’t feel clean.

The group chat was blowing up with questions. The poor rookies were understandably upset. They thought someone was trying to haze them, but that wasn’t the case at all. Hazing wasn’t something we did anymore. They didn’t do it in my first year, and Emma said that her class was the last one that got hazed.

I didn’t have the energy to be dealing with this, so I muted the chat for the time being. Nura was sitting on her bed, her eyes on her computer screen but I could see her looking at me from time to time. I mean, I would be too. If Nura came back and told me that she just ended up taking a blood shower, I would be fucking concerned too.

I rolled over and tugged at my ear. It was habit of mine when I was anxious about something, and I was definitely anxious about this. If it turned out to be a stupid prank from one of the other teams, that would be one thing. But if it wasn’t…then what did it mean?

I had this crazy thought, pulling my phone up to my face. I wanted to see if it happened any time else. I did a quick Google search, and found out that this wasn’t the first time that something like this happened at this school. It was in 1968, and in 1995, and again in 2007. Okay, that was interesting.

Okay, so unless someone was dumping bodies into a water reservoir that only affected the women’s locker room, something freaky was going on. I’m not that big into that spiritual mumbo jumbo, but I’m not going to deny that this was more than a coincidence. However, it was history, something I specialized in. If I could trace back and see if there were any more connections, maybe I can establish a pattern.

That was a problem for Lyn of tomorrow, however. I was thoroughly exhausted after tonight’s events. I bookmarked the page on my phone, just so I wouldn’t forget. I was going to need my laptop for this.

I just hoped I could find something that can explain what the hell happened.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Rivals II

Previously on Rivals

There really wasn’t anything to be nervous about. Why should she be nervous when she’d already spent two nights in the same bed as a complete stranger and player for the opposite team. That was weird, but going on a date was incredibly normal. It was the most normal part of the timeline of their entire flirtation, and yet, Clarke was slightly antsy. 

The nerves might have stemmed from the lying. 

It wasn’t really mentioned when her friends asked her what her plans were for the weekend. Vaguely, she insisted that there was some family stuff she had to do and kept out of the conversations about meeting up, much to the dismay of a few voices. But the lies were made easier by the proximity to winter break. If she told them what she was really doing, she’d never hear the end of it from Octavia, and that was a fight she didn’t want to have. She’d never get over Bellamy’s sad eyes. She’d have to listen to Raven rail about this and that, and why not avoid it if she could?

In the end, lying felt right and easy and when everyone gave up trying to figure out when she’d be able to do something, instead chalking it up to a complete family weekend, she relaxed. 

Maybe her nerves stemmed from the intensive dive into Lexa’s scant social media presence, strictly for science. 

The very night she got home from the state championship trip, she laid in her bed and did the only normal thing she could think of doing-- looking into a certain Lexa Woods, all while texting the star kicker deep into the night. 

And though she didn’t find much, she did see that Lexa was too cute and it was going to be a problem. Candids taken by friends of her in weird positions, reading. With glasses. Adorable glasses. Pictures hiking with her family. Camping with her little brother. Volunteering at the Special Olympics. Record shopping. Camping. Running. Biking. Studying film. Dressed up for a family wedding. 

It spanned her entire high school life, and Clarke learned that she was an outdoorsy person who seemed too good to be true. She had a crush on a stranger she slept with-- twice. 

Yes, that was where her nerves came from, Clarke decided as she heard the doorbell chime downstairs before she gave herself a once over in the mirror while taking a deep breath. There was nothing to be nervous about, she chanted. 

Except it’d been two weeks of almost non-stop texting and Lexa was funny and nice and sweet and a nagging part of her brain couldn’t let Clarke believe that this girl was real. 

“I’m coming!” Clarke yelled down the steps as she hurried to the bathroom and quickly sprayed a dash of perfume from the tiny, expensive bottle her dad got her for her birthday. 

She heard the rumble of voices downstairs and tried not to think of how embarrassing her father could possibly be. In record time she snagged her coat and phone, pocketing and tugging on as she hustled down the steps. 

But handling it well enough, Lexa stood there, in Clarke’s house, in the flesh, real, alive, and in-person. Red letterman jacket folded over her arm, she stood there and listened intently to Jake Griffin talk about something before catching her date’s eye and smiling. 

“I will have to check that movie out, Mr. Griffin,” Lexa nodded, tearing herself away from Clarke. “Thank you for the suggestion.” 

“Okay, we’re heading out, Dad,” Clarke interrupted before he could start talking about something else. “I’ll be home later.” 

“Not giving me much time to embarrass you, honey,” he chided as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I got distracted talking about movies.” 

“An easy way to avert him. Nice work, Twelve.”

Lexa smiled quickly as Clarke came to stand beside her. 

“I do want to hear some embarrassing things though. I’m sure we have ti--”

“Okay, we’re off,” she cut off the thought. 

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Griffin,” Lexa stuck out her hand and shook Jake’s. “I’ll let you know what I think of that film. I’m always looking for new favorites.” 

“You won’t be disappoint,” he smiled, surprised by the action as she shook her hand. “Home by twelve at the latest.” 

“What about one?” Clarke tried. 

“Actually, I have to be home by eleven,” Lexa offered. “So unless you plan on bailing…” 

“You know, eleven sounds so much better to me,” Jake grinned and looked at his daughter expectantly. 

With a shake of her head and sigh, Clarke moved toward the door, Lexa trailing behind her and shrugging on her coat as the moved out into the cold. The patriarch of the small family stood behind the glass and watched them hurry to hop into the still-running car in the driveway. It wasn’t that he truly trusted anyone that took his daughter out on a date, but something about Lexa seemed okay enough for him to not worry as much, which was surprising for someone with a letterman jacket. 

But he waved as they pulled out into the street and he smiled, the faint remnant of the perfume he bought for his daughter for her last birthday still lingering on the stairs. 

XXXXXXXXXX

As much as she told herself that she wasn’t nervous, that it was pointless to worry about it, that Clarke obviously liked her enough to make out with her in a hotel bed, twice, Lexa still felt a little nervous about their first official date. She did a valiant job in pretending though. 

But then she saw Clarke and she relaxed, despite the fact that her heartbeat picked up by about half. It was baffling and she wasn’t sure what it meant, but she didn’t waste any time thinking about it too hard. 

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Lexa smiled as they pulled up to the museum parking lot. “My brother has a thing for museums.” 

“Now I get to spoil it for you so when he drags you here eventually, it’ll be old news.” 

“You know, you haven’t insulted me once since I picked you up.” 

“Can’t let them go to your head,” Clarke grinned and waited, sticking her hand out for her date to grab so she could lead her into one of her favorite places in town. “Your ego is already monstrous after winning a championship.” 

“Did you know I get a ring and everything? The lunch lady gave me an extra cookie the other day, too.” 

“What a life you lead. And here I am, taking up your time when you could be basking in the glow of being the city’s golden child.” 

“Not this town,” she murmured, feeling slightly out of place in her jacket. 

“Don’t sweat it. You’re with me, Woods.” 

It was a baseless sentence and in no way did Lexa imagine that Clarke ran her town, but there was something to her confidence and ease that made her want to believe it without question. Clarke was easy that way-- just constantly moving and pushing and remaining undaunted, it felt like. Through their late night chats, she’d learned that Clarke really figured out that she didn’t like a lot of who she was over the past few years, and was restarting, with purpose. 

Lexa wasn’t sure what it all meant, just that Clarke was honest and fun, she was unpredictable and passionate, and most importantly, she was fiercely independent.

Somewhere between the paintings of the boats and the ones that were just lines, Lexa felt Clarke’s chin on her shoulder and the proximity of their bodies as they walked through the massive rooms, perusing and joking, appreciating and debating, predominantly disappearing into themselves without a care for anyone else in the place. 

Somewhere between the busts and the installation art, Lexa kissed Clarke’s cheek and held her hand a little tighter, occasionally pulling her own behind her back to pull Clarke closer to her side. 

And at the end of the night, after dropping Clarke off and getting a kiss for her troubles, Lexa smiled and replayed the entire date in her head on the drive home. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Despite the normal festivities of the holiday season combined with winning a championship and having many more friend obligations to attend with, Lexa ignored what she could and spent her most of her break driving back and forth to the rival town to see a certain cheerleader who like to kiss her and sometimes slip her hand up her shirt. And she liked returning the favor, hence the driving and hosting. 

But between the family and the girl and break homework, Lexa was sure to spend time preparing for her soccer season. That was a point she made because she sure as hell wasn’t going to only get scholarship options for one season in a sport she didn’t truly love. 

There was a schedule and Clarke fit into it all, much to Lexa’s relief. 

“You have to head home soon,” Clarke whispered, though her lips moved to capture the kicker’s once again. 

“I can push my luck a little bit. Your dad likes me.” 

The scoff was cut off by a low moan as Lexa let her hands get a little more brazen than they’d been before. She was fueled by the fact that they were busy and school was starting again and she wouldn’t know how long until she’d see Clarke again. That and the delectable little noises coming from beneath her. 

“You should leave, before I make you stay.” 

Lexa smiled against Clarke’s neck and bit there before pushing her thigh harder into her center, earning a shift of hips. Fingertips dug into her neck and she sighed at the sensation. She wanted more time. She wanted to pause everything. 

“You feel so good,” Lexa whispered. 

“We should see each other again.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“You’ll let me know when you get your schedule for soccer?” 

“You’ll be the first to know. I’d like my own cheerleader,” Lexa smiled, kissing toward chest. “And as my girlfriend, you get the perks of wearing my jacket and old jersey whenever you’d like.” 

“Girlfriend, eh?” Clarke adjusted so that Lexa hovered over her. She cocked her head and smiled before pushing hair away from her eyes. She loved Lexa’s green, and how deep and expressive they were if you were smart enough to pay attention. 

“Yeah, well. If the letterman fits.” 

“I do look cute in it,” she shrugged, smiling enough with a dimple and all. 

“Much better than me.” 

“I can’t go wearing it at school. That’d be the end of me.” 

“I suppose we should talk about being star-crossed and such, since we’re heading back to the real world.” 

Clarke groaned a complaint and hugged Lexa toward her tighter. 

“What is there to talk about? My girlfriend goes to a different school.” 

“It’s adorable how you think it’ll be easy.”

“You’d be amazing at how good I am t being difficult.” 

Despite herself, Lexa chuckled and shook her head before kissing Clarke’s cheek and jaw and nose. She finally pushed herself away. 

XXXXXXXXX

The fall out was… biblical, in a way that Clarke never fully expected. It seemed insanely trivial for her to develop a crush on a person that could develop so much ire from her entire world, but she bore the brunt of it with a flippant disregard to such ridiculous stigmas. 

The worst of it was Octavia, fiercely loyal to her team and her school and most importantly, her brother. The news worked its way through the friend group, debated and marvelled over for a few days before it became old news. It was a novelty and for a while Clarke fielded their questions and took their taunting well enough. 

It wasn’t until spring that Clarke finally blew up, lashing out at Bellamy, Octavia, Murphy, and a few others who were still bitter about their lost. It ended with her scolding their pitiful performance and childish behavior. It didn’t really help, but she certainly felt better. 

“Good job! Nice kick!” Clarke cheered from the bleachers amidst the large crowd in the waning evening light. 

“Oh now you’re a cheerleader,” Octavia rolled her eyes and scoffed from a few rows away. 

Clarke grit her teeth and shook her head before focusing back on the pitch as number twelve streaked down the field, maneuvering quickly through defenders. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the jacket for the opposing team and smelled a hint of Lexa on the collar still, vowing to give it back to her for a few days to get more of it back. 

Unsure of if the booing spurred her or the fact that her girlfriend was watching, but Lexa and her team won by a wide margin, which was gratifying to the singular fan in the audience. 

“Hey, Twelve, you looked good out there.” 

“Oh thanks. Just showing off a bit for you,” Lexa grinned, hanging on the railing of the bleachers as she watched her red jacket walk towards her. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Couldn’t miss it. Hottest seat in town.” 

“I have to get on the bus in a few…” 

“Can’t waste time then,” Clarke grinned, jumping off the final step and wrapping her arms around the sweaty soccer players neck. 

In a second, she was kissing her girlfriend and smiling, content with the glares she knew she’d be getting from the peanut gallery. 

“You should come over this weekend. There’s a great movie playing at the Local, and I could be persuaded to take you for dinner.” 

“Persuaded, huh?” 

“Mmhm,” she nodded, setting her girlfriend down.

“Do you want to meet my friends?” 

“I think I’ve met some of them,” Lexa looked at the gaggle that followed. “Hi.” 

“Guys, this is Lexa,” Clarke offered as she turned around and found the rest of the group. “Lex, this is Bellamy, his sister, Octavia, Raven, Murphy, Monty, and Madi.”

A small chorus of hellos greeted her as she lifted her hand awkwardly. 

“Sorry about making that field goal. I can honestly say I didn’t mean to, and it just kind of happened.”

The crowd relaxed slightly and mingled about with some small talk before the coach called and Lexa looked over her shoulder, realizing it was time to leave. 

“I’ll see you Saturday, if that’s okay?” Clarke asked, walking with Lexa toward the bus. 

“Did I do well enough with the friends to earn a date?” 

“You did. I do have to spend Friday with them though to make up for it, but yeah, I’d say you’re okay.” 

“Am I going to have to see them more?” 

“Definitely.” 

“Whatever works.”

“Here,” Clarke shrugged off the coat. “I need you to break this in again for me. I lost your smell.” 

“Can’t have it not smell like Ireland looks, I guess.” 

“Shut up.” 

With a shove and a kiss, Clarke pushed Lexa toward the bus.

[misssophiachase]

For @klaroline-events​​ KC Bingo - School on FF and AO3

When his Porsche convertible blows a tire, private school student Klaus Mikaelson needs it fixed. Enter townie and daughter of the local mechanic, Caroline Forbes.

The Preppy and the Townie

Friday PM, Forbes Garage, Exeter, NH

“Excuse me?” Klaus hadn’t frequented this part of town all that much during his time at Phillips Exeter Academy and given the outdated exterior he wasn’t sure if it was still operational or if he’d stepped back in time.

It was eerily quiet and the small gas station on the outskirts of the town centre seemed unattended. He’d blown the tire on his Porsche not far down the road but had managed to get there just in time.

Given he attended the local boarding school, cars weren’t usually allowed on campus but his father had sent it the other day in lieu of his presence. Mikael Mikaelson never quite understood the concept of fatherhood and considered monetary gifts an alternative way to show affection. 

Klaus also knew there was another reason for his guilt but pushed it to the back of his mind, it was easier that way. 

“Can I help you?” Her voice was gruff, bored and almost resentful of the intrusion. Klaus turned to the source not expecting her to be so indescribable.

And he meant that in a very good way.  

Her denim shorts were frayed at the edges, her white, fitted tank covered in black, grease stains and a red, checked shirt tied around her waist was doing nothing to hide a delectable pair of creamy, toned legs.

“Hey jackass, my eyes are up here,” she barked.

Yes, they were. Blue, expressive and teamed with her golden waves pulled back into a high ponytail, Klaus didn’t think he’d seen anyone so breathtaking in his life.

He didn’t usually stare so obviously at girls, generally it was the other way around, but he couldn’t stop if he tried.

“Is that how you speak to all your customers?”

“Only the ones who look at me like that.”

“And how exactly am I looking at you, love?”

“You know exactly how you’re looking at me,” she countered. “You’re not the first and I know you won’t be the last. Also, I have a name but before you do the completely predictable thing and ask what it is, I’m not going to tell you.”

“That’s quite a speech you seem to have prepared there,” he offered. “Is there any point in me asking about my tire then?”

“If you can’t fix it, then sure, I can do that for you.”

“Are you insinuating that I can’t change a tire?”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” she responded, shrugging her shoulders. Klaus wanted to be offended, he wanted to dislike her immensely and tell her so but there was no hope in hell of that happening.

“Actually, I can change a tire but I don’t have a jack on me,” she snorted by way of response. “You are incredibly judgemental, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Oh, p-uh-lease,” she drawled. “Your type swan around this town like you own it but, newsflash, you don’t. We’ll all be here long after you’ve finished school and left town.”

“I don’t swan, number one,” he replied, “and number two, I don’t think I own your town, even though it is lovely, especially during the Fall.” He held her gaze, and he could see her face soften slightly. But, unfortunately, it didn’t last long. 

”How about we just stick to the tire,” she murmured begrudgingly. “If you’re lucky, I’ll even give you some pointers.”  

Saturday PM, Front Row Pizza

“So, tell me more about this hottie from Philips?” Kat asked, handing a customer their slices on a plate.

Katherine Pierce was her oldest friend and the two had been working at Front Row the past two years. Saturday was their busiest night of the week but thankfully business was starting to slow down. 

“Shhh, would you keep your voice down,” she hissed, wiping the counter and keeping her head down to avoid any embarrassment. “You know how small this place is at the best of times.”

“I didn’t name names, mainly because you haven’t told me yet,” Kat muttered. 

“He’s your typical, preppy jock, nothing groundbreaking around these parts. And I never said he was a hottie, nor would I ever use that term.”

“No, I found that out when I visited the garage this morning and spoke to your DILF.”

“Kat, please don’t talk about my dad like that, it’s extremely disgusting,” she growled. “And when exactly did he decide that Klaus was...”

“Oooh, he has a name. So, tell me more about him and his Porsche?” 

Caroline fought the urge to roll her eyes. As much as she loved her best friend, Kat liked the finer things in life a little too much. Sure, their upbringing was relatively simple in comparison to people like Klaus but Caroline didn’t need money to define who she was and what she wanted out of life. 

“He blew out his tire.”

“Wow, how exciting,” she pouted. “You never tell me anything.”

“He’s English and his surname is Mikaelson, happy?”

“Not in the slightest, next thing I know you’ll tell me his favourite colour,” she pretended to yawn. “Okay, one last question and then I’ll leave you alone for a full five minutes. How would you score him on a scale of one to ten?”  

“It’s blue, well actually it’s more of a french navy if I’m being specific,” a familiar voice interrupted. Caroline closed her eyes wishing she could melt into a puddle on the floor. Of all the times for him to just show up. “As for a score, I think it’s probably best Caroline takes that one.”

She really shouldn’t have told him her name. Why did it have to sound so good rolling off his tongue too? Damn his English accent and those dimples. Why hadn’t she noticed just how disarming they were yesterday?

“If it isn’t the hottie,” Kat smiled, turning to face Caroline giving her an extremely indiscreet thumbs up. “It’s okay, no score necessary, I can work it out just fine on my own.” 

Before Caroline could really die of embarrassment, Katherine had conveniently flounced away to make it even more awkward. 

If she thought he looked good yesterday in his school uniform sans tie with his shirt sleeves rolled up, he was absolutely gorgeous today. Dark jeans, sitting low on his hips and a navy henley that only accentuated his eyes.  

“She’s, uh, friendly.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Caroline agreed. “Are you following me or something?”

“Someone has an incredibly high opinion of themselves,” he said, cocking his left eyebrow. “Maybe I was just hungry, did you ever think of that?”

“Did my dad tell you where I was?” She asked, arms crossed over her chest. “I noticed you two talking yesterday, but here I thought he was just drooling over your speedster.”

“He may have mentioned that Front Row has the best four cheese pizza in town,” he shared. “You know, while he was drooling.”

“Just because you think you can charm my father with your expensive car, doesn’t mean I’m powerless to your charms.”

“My charms?” He smirked, leaning closer. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“If you think that’s flirting then I need to teach you more than how to change a tire,” she scoffed. “Now, would you like to order something? The kitchen is going to be closing soon and I can only take so much of your over inflated ego in a confined space.”

“Your customer service skills really are second to none, love,” he laughed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She wanted to hate him so much but Caroline swore those crimson lips had superpowers of some kind. 

“Sorry, what?” She asked, noticing he’d said something but not quite sure what it was. 

“My over inflated ego and I would like a four cheese pizza to have here,” he joked, his knowing smile telling her she’d been caught out. 

“You are taking it to go,” she demanded, scared of what his lips might do next. 

“I think I’m going to nominate you for employee of the month,” he suggested, taking a seat and making himself at home. “There’s something about your rare skill of being charming but rude at the same time.”

“Kat, can you tell the kitchen there’s an order up,” she called out, not bothering to respond to his remark. “To go.”

“If I agree to leave this fine establishment, how about you do something for me?”

“I changed your tire yesterday and I’m now serving you pizza today,” he attempted to interrupt but Caroline continued. “And before you try to be cute about my impeccable, customer service skills, it’s abundantly clear that, if anything, you owe me, Mikaelson.”

“I was getting to that part,” he promised. “I was hoping you could come to the river tomorrow morning and help me out with my rowing?”

“Excuse me?” Caroline wasn’t expecting that. “I’m curious about what exactly the preppy needs help with?”

“Motivation,” he murmured, his double meaning not lost on her. “Coach says I won’t be up to championships if I can’t improve my times. So, I figured what better way to do that then have you yelling at me from the bow?”  

Katherine let out a not-so-subtle groan from the nearest table. Caroline really shouldn’t have been surprised she was eavesdropping. “Be careful what you wish for, french navy.” 

“I’m willing to take my chances, Katherine,” he smiled in her direction before returning his attention back to Caroline. She really wanted to hate him and his smug, good looking ass but it was becoming more and more difficult. Now, she knew why her best friend and father were so easily convinced. 

“Can I push you in the water if you annoy me?” He took her by surprise and laughed. Caroline had to admit she liked hearing it. 

“I think we’ll need to define what’s annoying from the outset but you’ve got a deal.”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Sunday AM, The Exeter River

“You need to keep your back flat and make sure your core is engaged,” Caroline offered from the front of the boat.” Now that instruction Klaus wasn’t expecting. 

“Trust me, my core is very engaged,” he teased, unable to help himself. 

Klaus was still shocked she’d agreed to come today, he figured it had everything to do with pushing him in the water. Which luckily she hadn’t done...yet. 

“I think we decided that innuendo was annoying.”

“You decided that and who said it’s innuendo? I was merely confirming the fact that my core is, in fact, engaged. And let’s not forget you asked the question.”

“It’s textbook rowing technique and that smirk you gave me was a dead giveaway.”

She looked stunning today, the breeze blowing through her blonde waves that were loose and flowing. Her make-up free face, simple t-shirt and shorts only highlighting her natural beauty. 

“How do you know so much about rowing?” Klaus was surprised, given she didn’t indicate any interest the night before. 

“I might have dated one of you before.”

“One of me?” Klaus was immediately offended by her reply. “I didn’t realise I had a twin.”

“He went to Philips and was on the rowing team too. But instead of a Porsche he had a Mercedes.”

“Wow, you really know how to hurt a guy,” he shot back, unable to disguise his disappointment. “Is this why you’ve been so hostile?” He stopped rowing needing to know the answer.

“I haven’t been…” 

“Yes, you have,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what this guy did to you but…”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Perhaps not but I’d hate for you to unfairly judge me based on some idiot who couldn’t see what was right in front of him.”

“I’m a townie, yes my house is only a few kilometres away, but we lived in totally different worlds,” she murmured, her gaze downcast. “He had a trust fund bigger than I could ever imagine and I work two jobs just so I can afford college if I don’t get a scholarship. I stupidly thought that someone like him actually liked me.”

“Well, he’s an idiot and you’re not stupid.” His hand was on hers before he had time to think. “I get you’ve had a bad experience but I’m not who you think I am.” She faltered, her eyes finding his again. “Ask me anything.”

“Can I push you in the water?”

“Cute.”

“On Friday, you didn’t seem to care too much about your new car, why is that? At first I assumed it was the fact you had another ten of them waiting at home in your garage.”

“Only two,” he admitted. “But I’m not really that enthused about them either.”

“What happened?”

“My mother died last year, my siblings are scattered around the country at different colleges and schools and my father sent the car in lieu of his presence at Philip’s family weekend. We’ve never been that close but I guess I thought…”

“He’d want to see you.”

“It’s ridiculous I know.”

“It’s not,” she smiled, placing her other hand over his. “You know what is silly though? How lazy you’re being, now get moving before I push you into the water, Mikaelson.”

Turns out they both ended up in the water that day but neither minded. Klaus won the rowing championship with plenty of core engagement instruction from Caroline. He also sent back the Porsche to his father because he didn’t need it anymore, he had everything he needed right there. 

[yandere-society]

Could you possibly do the idol!verse with SeokJin, Tae and Jungkook? Thank you!

Reaction to Idol Crush Noticing Them

Admin: @nomnomsik​

Trigger warnings: Yandere-themes, obsession, slight possessiveness, and slight sexual content. 

A/n: I changed the prompt a bit from the first part! This is a female reader. 

Jungkook

Okay Jungkook, you’re gonna kill it. Just don’t fuck this up. If you could sleep with every stylist BigHit hired, this should be a piece of cake.

The temperature of the pool water was warming up, the dusk slowly fading into the sky, the glimmer of city lights flashing on the dark horizon. Jungkook rose himself out of the water, hair falling over his eyes, biceps tensing as he carried the weight of the water with him, feet steadying him up. 

He reached for his towel, drying off his hair and bodysuit, taking large steps around the pool and sliding on his sandals. As he passed one of the occupied reclining pool chairs, he stole a glance of you, your legs crossed, book in your lap, hat on your head with a pair of dark sunglasses on top.

Jungkook brought his feet to a halt as he waited until you clearly noticed his presence, giving you a mischevious smirk as he took a seat on one of the dry benches, immediately dropping droplets of water. As he opened his mouth to speak, he was unexpectedly beaten, your voice coming out first.

“Wait… You’re… Jungkook, right?” You had said, catching him off guard and flustering his confident smile. He gave you a nod, leaning his head back as his muscles flexed and Adam apple bobbed. 

“And you’re my favorite artist.” He whispered breathlessly, noticing how your eyebrows rose up in surprise, closing the book and placing it off to the side. You shifted your body towards him, giving him a bright smile that made his heart race, almost as if it was about to burst in any second. He couldn’t help but catch the sight of your cleavage and legs that sent a flutter of excitement up his spine. 

“Thank you…” You muttered gratefully, giving him a small bow. “Are you on tour right now or… do you have any events in your schedule that brings you to Japan?” 

“That doesn’t really matter right now.” Jungkook murmured in a low voice, inching his body towards until your back hit the railing of the rooftop, overlooking the large city of Tokyo. 

His lips were incredibly and suffocatingly close to yours, foreheads touching as his breath fanned over your skin, his hands locking yours in place as you flinched, heart thumping and racing. Instead of going in for his kiss, he just gave you a smirk. “As for events… I could have an upcoming event of you tonight…”

Taehyung

Taehyung stood tall, cameras on him as he settled next to you for the Idol Star Athletics Championships, partners for the baton 400m race. The two other idols of his team positioned themselves off to the side, clearly intimidated by the aura that was radiating off of Taehyung’s body as you obliviously stared up at the crowd, waving and sending lovely smiles to your fans.

“3, 2, 1.″

The whistle blew, Taehyung sprint ahead with the baton tightly clenched in his hand, focusing on his lane only as he made the turn. He reached out to you, the baton loosening under his fingertips as you started to move, your arm behind you and looking for the stick to land in your hand. Taehyung successfully passed it on, his feet coming to a halt and walking off to the sidelines as he cheered you on, watching as you ran against the girls for the second lap.  

You were neck and neck with the girl who tried to cut you to the front, successfully blocking her off as the next idol reached his hand out for the baton, slapping it down onto his palm as he ran off. With deep and ragged breaths, you slowly walked over to where Taehyung stood, his smile bright as he ushered you closer. 

While the other teams were cheering for their team member who was running the lap, Taehyung couldn’t care less. 

“You’re a really fast runner.” You smiled, catching Taehyung off guard as he shyly turned away, ruffling his hair and brushing off the sweat from his forehead. “And tall…” You sulked at the end.

Taehyung’s low baritone laugh seemed to echo in your ears despite all the harsh screaming in the stadium. With a grin and the race completely forgotten, Taehyung went home that day with not only your phone number but also missing lip balm from his lips that cleanly transferred to your hand.

Seokjin

Jin lay comfortably in his bed, scrolling through Twitter as he was passing the time of his vacation break. When he flipped to the trending page, he did a double-take, his phone almost dropping out of his hands. 

#JinxYNCollab

Jin smashed his finger against the glass of his phone, watching as it finally loaded the tag up, only to find hundreds of posts with you watching his cover of your song, as you squealed with joy at his vocal range and stability. 

You had praised him at least a hundred times by the time he finished the video, eyes blankly staring at his screen as he returned back to the tag, scrolling through comments that only fueled his ego even more. 

Jin and Yn sounds like the cutest thing ever. I want a collab NOW! Get on it!! #JinxYNCollab

Okay, but was I the only one that noticed how excited Yn was to see Jin do a cover of her song? I think she’s secretly a huge fan. #JinxYNCollab

JIN AND YN HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY MONTH. JIN AND YN HAVE THE SAME HAIR COLOR. JIN AND YN HAVE THE SAME CHANEL JEWELRY. JIN AND YN HAVE MATCHING RINGS ON THEIR FINGERS. COINCIDENCE? NOPE, GOD’S PLAN ONLY. #JinxYNCollab

Jin and Yn are both hot. Like, how are you gonna make me choose between them? #JinxYNCollab

Jin couldn’t help but smirk as he continued down all the comments, nodding his head at each one that agreed with how they would be a dominant couple, how powerful they would be if they sang together. The jewelry and hair color was no coincidence and the suggestion only made him scoff aloud.

It was purposely done. He searched every goddamn jewelry store just to find the exact pieces of expensive rings and necklaces that you seemed to have in your collection. Whenever you dyed your hair, Jin quickly followed. There was one particular moment when he squealed with joy, predicting the exact color of hair you dyed into, knowing the timing of when your roots finally grew in.

He had never felt happier in his life when people flipped out online, but this. This was another great feeling… another step closer to you.