#and then im taking him to a baseball game

[simple-and-cozy-life]

The start of a dish cloth!

[touyaz]

winter i am very curious who you think is the very best most important jjk yandere . would you be willing to share your thoughts 🎤

MEGUMI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

no competition! no doubts in my mind!

i just think !! he is so incredibly possessive (+this is the only post coming to mind rn which maybe kind of explains it but he is thee mother hen man™ of jjk to me) but he gets overshadowed by characters like gojou, getou, and yuuta which makes him even scarier bc! you don't see it coming! the signs are all there but it's always too late!!!!!!!!

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[wandurlvst]

Baby Trouble

ken sato x gn!reader one shot

notes: this is my first time publishing my writing so IM REALLY NERVOUS, but i hope you enjoy 😭 and yes i know ken calls ami for kid advice but let’s just say he called you instead 🤗

warnings: none! just wholesome fluff with slight crack tbh

ever since you could remember you’ve always wanted to raise a family. either that’d be your biological children or adoptive. i guess you could say it came from your own parents—how they were able to raise someone who isn’t themselves so well-

BZZ BZZ BZZ

a buzz pulled you from your thoughts—your phone was ringing from the other end of the couch. you placed the remote of the tv down and checked the contact. it was ken—an old friend of yours. you’ve known him since you were kids and shares many things in common. “i need to work in the morning, ken.” “i know- i know. but i need your help.”

you sighed, “and what could be so important that i’m needed this late?” “just come over.” the call ended, you looked at the black screen and decided to just visit for a minute. it can’t hurt

you exited your vehicle and ascended the stairs. you raised your fist to knock on the door. but before you could, you were pulled inside quickly. “woah!”

“took your sweet time didn’t you?” ken said in a very annoyed tone, “well it didn’t sound like an emergency.” you shrugged, “whatever just follow me.”

“what is this about ken? it’s getting late- and don’t you have a game tomorrow?” “that- that can wait.” he led you two to the giant elevator that led down to his basement. “don’t scream okay?” “what do you mean…?” once the doors opened you were met with a giant pink baby kaiju who was in a large cage. but of course your first instinct was to scream—but ken covered your mouth just before you did. “what did i just say!?” he released your face, “i can’t help it! it’s a kaiju and why is it your house in the first place?”

“you saw what happened after my first game with the giants- and the KDF wanted to take her so…” “you took her instead.” “yeah.” you approached the glass wall of the cage and the baby cried as if she was going to be hurt by you, you all covered your ears and ken jumped in front of you. “mina!” the ai surrounded the cage with images and videos of ken playing baseball—distracting the infant, “so why did you need me here again?”

he sighed, “i need help- or advice on how you raise her.” “i’ve never raised a kaiju, ken.” “i know that! i mean a kid. what would a normal baby need?”

you stepped towards the infant again now that she was distracted, “well she isn’t a normal baby. but she’d need a lot of attention at her age- you’ll need to feed her, wash her, uh- figure out the whole potty training situation, the five s’s- mina could teach you that-“ “we’ve already started.” she chimed in.

“oh and don’t get me started on the constant lack of sleep. now i know i don’t have kids of my own- but from what my parents told me i was a nightmare when i was a baby.” you were in your own world rambling on and on about baby advice—you didn’t notice ken right next to you

“how about we do that?” he commented, you were confused—naturally. “do what?” you turned to him

“raise her. together. like parents.” he noticed you staring at him and he grew nervous that his idea was ridiculous, “i mean- since you’re basically the expert i could learn along the way- i don’t want you doing all the hard work. but i understand if you’d say no- you have a lot on your plate already“

“ken.”

“yeah?”

“i’ll help you.” you smiled, “it won’t be easy but, it could be fun.” this time you calmly called to the infant. introducing yourself. the baby smiled and was entertained by you. ken smiled at the immediate bond you two had and he knew it would work

[ch4mpagnedrought]

compensation

[full series]

mdni ! art donaldson

summary: you and art cant help but try and compensate for everything you’re missing out on now that tashi and patrick are together.

ever since tashi had suggested a game of tennis for her number and patrick won, its left you and art to roam around the stanford campus like two little lost puppies, begging for their attention when patrick comes to visit tashi.

patrick has made it impossible to get a hold of the girl, her dorm room always locked and her absence in the daily work-outs the two of you usually have made very obvious. not to mention the betrayal art must be feeling, having his best friend be only in the adjacent building to him, but never coming to actually see him.

you’ve had to find ways to preoccupy yourselves, and stop you from going on an angry rampage, like;

hitting racket to ball in the middle of the court, not even bothering to play a real game. “my prof is making me rewrite my whole assignment this week.” you complain, aiming the ball at the green fencing at the sides and watching it bounce back in art’s direction for your own botched version of squash. he laughs loudly, “who knew you were so bad at everything besides tennis.” you shoot him a scowl and his eyes widen, shoulders shrugging unapologetically as he swings his arm once again.

spring fading into summer means that evenings still have a little light in them, and you fight the urge to lie straight down on the tarmac and look up at the greying sky. the light breeze washes through art’s strawberry blonde hair, swaying it to the side to expose his brows that furrow when you let the ball bounce away between your legs, looking at him with a tense expression. the thought that tashi and patrick were somewhere doing god knows what (you knew what) and completely ignoring you made a reappearance in your head suddenly, and it boiled your blood. “ugh! im gonna kill them!” you huff out, grabbing the ball from the ground and stomping to where you left your stuff. art’s arm finding the both of your shoulders, “ditto that.”

having lunch at the food hall together: waiting in line for the same exact salad that you get every day, curtesy of your game-preparation meal plan and taking a seat on the bar stools that overlook the rest of the campus. stabbing your fork into the frail pieces of lettuce in your plastic bowl, art taking another bite of his churro in silence and licking away all the rouge sugar particles from his lips. “you know, patrick didn’t even bother to call me about his visit.” art says, taking off his red baseball cap just to put it back on his head again. “what a dog.” you scoff, shaking your head and taking a sip of your smoothie that tastes a little grainy from the protein powder. you would’ve continued to rant if you hadn’t spotted tashi and patrick walking hand-in-hand in the distance, all smiles and giggles; it makes you sick. “look.” you point it out to art and he mocks patrick in a high-pitched voice, “hey tashi aren’t i so cool? i play pro and i’m totally not cheating on you.” you chuckle, leaning over to snag a bite of his churro.

and confiding in each other in art’s dorm late at night, when the haunting noises coming from the other side of your wall get too much.

his room is surprisingly so…boyish. a couple posters of tennis stars on the walls that seem so out of place, like he put them there for the sole purpose of taking up space. his medals are hung up on the corner of his wardrobe, tinkering on the edge and there is an unidentified pile of clothing in the corner.

his sheets are a deep maroon colour and you lie flat across them, both of your heads leaning on the single flat pillow he owns, legs crossed. his ceiling has remnants of a water leak the university tried to paint over and you study it from below. “i wonder what they’re doing right now.” art hums, putting his hands behind his head, and letting you rest your head on his bicep.

you shoot up, glancing down at him, one brow lifted and eyes narrow, “i can tell you exactly what they’re doing right now,” you say, scrambling up onto your knees, “’patrick i need your racket right now!’’’ you moan tauntingly, rolling your eyes back and crossing your arms over your chest. art cackles, stomach contracting and grabbing onto your shoulder for support. his hand is pumping warm with blood, hovering over your skin for longer than socially acceptable, and his fingers caressed by the long strands of your curly hair that fall at your sides.

running over to his room meant that you hadn’t had enough time to grab a change of clothes to sleep in, so he graciously lent you one of his t-shirts, a navy one with white embroidered writing that you hadn’t bothered to read, which prods at the aching in his head to see you without it.

“when was the last time you slept with someone?” your question catches art off guard, lying back down next to him and watching the blush creep up onto his cheeks, eyes darting away somewhere to think of an answer. “oh come on, was it that unforgettable?” you laugh. he knew when exactly when the last time was, but the thought that him sleeping with someone had crossed your mind, putting the idea of the two of you together into his own had clouded his head, making it unbearably difficult to think, or speak.

“maybe last month” art estimates when the last time he saw the girl in one of his classes that he casually slept with from time to time, your expression remaining unchanged, which whirls something inside of his stomach. you nod, smile spreading across your lips, and eyes glancing down to art’s partially parted ones. art adjusts himself, propping his head up with his hand and looking down at you, “when was the last time that you slept with someone?”

its unclear to him whether you're joking with your response. “ask me that tomorrow.” it spins his head until he sees double, having to shut his eyes for a second to regain consciousness. your nonchalant smile quite frankly irks him, because you seem so unaware of how he is sliding the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, preparing just incase you decide that you want to kiss him. or the fact that he moved his leg upwards along the bed to cover his raging boner at just the mere idea of you and him together.

the shirt he lends you rides up on your hips, obviously showing off the black panties that you’re wearing and the neck-line hangs low enough to show the indent of your collarbone that he imagines licking a stripe over.

you thrum, looking up at art through dark eyelashes, “isn’t it so unfair how tashi and patrick can ignore us just to get at each other?”

he got the hint, every crumb you’ve put down he’s followed and scooped up all in one go, sighing out a weak, “yeah” that sounds more like a whine, and leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

the taste of your lip gloss he had missed sweetens his mouth immediately and the faint smell of a chocolatey lotion on your skin sends him into complete overdrive, left hand desperately reaching for the side of your face to take you deeper into him. he sinks himself down, pressing his chest into yours and disconnecting his lips to breathe out a groan at the sensation of your boobs against him like a boy who's never felt them before.

his face is burning hot, lips even hotter as they move simultaneously with yours, covering the perimeter of your mouth with long and drawn out movements to fully get the taste of you hes been dreaming of ever since that hotel room. his hands roam down to the curvature of your waist, taking a strong grip to it to make sure his fingerprints forever remember it, then down to your hips, kneading the flesh.

with him over you, he pulls away from your arms that are wrapped around his neck, pulling the hem of his shirt to unveil your midriff and the black lace that frames your lower waist, your thighs pressed together to catch the heat that he manifests within you, “oh my god.” it might just be the lewdest sight he has ever seen, along with your swollen lips that are glistening with his saliva.

he can barely keep away the moans that try to escape his mouth when he lowers himself down to you, eager lips pressing into your hip, lapping at the surface of your skin with a desperation only art could have, along the hem of your panties, and back up your stomach while your fingers entangle with his blonde locks.

your pulse quickens, exhaling his name out when his finger pulls your underwear to the side, letting the air hit your leaking core, a smile playing at art’s lips. “please, please art.” you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the sensation of one of his digits swiping through your folds overcome you.

he nibbles at your inner thighs, soft licks soothing the area as one of his fingers slides inside you, while the other gropes at your breast through your shirt. his mind is completely consumed by you, watching every change in your expression with his fingers pumping in and out of you, flush on your face and brows knitting every time he draws back.

your legs instinctively move over his shoulders, trapping him around you to continue the motion and giving him the chance to tilt his head to the side, pressing a kiss to the thigh that is thrown over him. “is this okay?” he asks, caressing a hand down your calf and watching the way your hand reaches out to grab him by the wrist.

“lie down art” you keen, his eyes narrow and he pulls back with a sense of confusion that is overrode with your impatience, ushering him below you. so he does, leaning against the headboard whilst you throw yourself onto his hips, his jaw tilting upwards to unconsciously fulfil the want of his lips devouring the whole of your figure.

the shirt he lent you doesn’t last long, ending up in the pile on his floor and letting him ravish in the sight of your bare torso. he gasps out your name, wandering hands reaching out to massage your breast, flesh filling out the gaps between all five of his fingers. “take this off” you strangle out, gesturing to the shirt he is wearing, disheveled hair falling back into his face that burns hot when you let your eyes roam down to his abdomen. even the weight of your ass pressing into his dick through his shorts is teetering him to climax, hands not knowing where to put themselves when he wants to grab a hold of all of you.

your fingers wrap around the waistband of his shorts that he is wearing, pulling down his boxers at the same time and freeing his erection to slap back onto his stomach, recalling something patrick said about the time he taught art to jerk off. the palm of your hand ghosts his cock, restraining yourself from taking it into your hands there and then, “can i?” even the way you sigh out the question has the hairs on art’s arms standing up and mouth swallowing saliva in anticipation. “yes, yes.” he whines, brows furrowing up at you and all of his muscles tensing.

with a gentle touch, he guides you above him, his hands at your sides as you spread yourself open for him, sinking down only to the tip before he grabs your waist and pauses in the position. he looks like a little helpless, bottom lip between his teeth and an alarmed look in his face that says if you go any further he’ll come right now. “i’ll go slow,” you whisper, a small smirk on your face that’s hard to resist when his shimmering eyes try to find the last slither of dignity within him, “i promise.” you smile reassuringly and he glances away, the flush in his cheeks getting a little deeper.

you keep your promise, slowly lowering yourself down onto him, goosebumps fevering your skin and palms laying flat across his abdomen to steady yourself.

taking him in completely, you whimper out his name and his hands journey to graze your back, up to your shoulder blades where he presses them into you to pull you into him, mouth suctioning down the valley of your breasts. his moans vibrate back into your skin when you pull back up from him, stimulating every single nerve ending in his length like it never has before. you set a pace, slow and steady for art, snapping your hips down onto his in a way that knocks the wind out of you each time, gasping for air. he keeps you close to him, rolling his hips to meet you in the middle and put some of that athlete stamina to use and murmuring your name with every movement.

his finger moves your hair from your shoulder, so he can press soft pecks onto the surface, whilst you clutch the wooden headboard, growing impatient and consequently pounding him into you. his moans purr into your ear, grabbing onto your ass to keep you still as he thrusts himself into you from below and shakily calling out an, “im gonna come.”

you nod, clasping around his biceps and leaning down to nip at his neck, losing composure the more your walls contract around him. you ignore the muscles in your legs that ache and your lungs that can’t seem get a hold of the air that is shared between you to continue to mercilessly plunge him deeper into you until it feels like you’re melting into one another, a shudder sending itself down your bare back and deepening the heat that builds in your core.

art is panting, popping your tit into his mouth one last time before falling still, twitching inside of you and releasing all of his seed into you until it overflows from below. your name echoes out of his mouth, whimpering and whining it out until he can open his eyes back up and centre his vision on you burning every last bit of energy to bounce on his dick.

you lean forward onto him, eyes rolling back into your head when reaching your climax and pressing your burning cheek against his face to feel all of him. he brushes his hand down your back comfortingly, you heaving into the crevice of his neck that glistens with sweat and feeling your walls contract around him the last couple times.

art sighs your name out, pressing his lips into your cheek and letting a smile spread across his face when you brush the dampened hair out of his forehead to get a better view of his eyes.

your body feels limp, falling back down next to him with a post-sex fatigue that follows you all the way into the next morning, where you sit at a table in the food hall, thanking art for bringing you some breakfast and trying to ignore the echoing of all the noises he made last night in your head.

“fuck i really need to work on that assignment today” you groan, taking a bite into a slice of honeydew with your head in the palm of your hand. art watches and nods, a false portrayal of an active listener when what he’s really focusing on is the way your lips curl around the slice, biting off a chunk and closing your lips around it in a way that makes him reminisce that he was right there too only a couple hours ago. “i can help.” he offers, truly from the kindness of his heart that kindly wants to spend the rest of his life looking at you.

“you wish.” you scoff, “i’m not allowed to be alone in a room with you anymore.”

art takes a swig of his water to hide the grin that spreads on his face, and when he makes eye contact with a random student from across the hall he feels like they heard that too. he wishes they could hear, and know that you, the best tennis player stanford has probably ever had, are having to physically restrain yourself from him.

“what are you smiling about?” the familiar voice of patrick calls out from a few strides away, in a pair of indigo levis and a white tee, grabbing onto arts shoulders and lowering himself down to his level to grab his chin playfully. art swats him away immediately, pushing patrick down into a chair. and tashi grazes your shoulders softly with her hand when taking a seat next to you and stealing a piece of your fruit from your bowl, “good morning.”

“morning.” you sigh out, taking a sip of your tea and hoping that it isn’t totally obvious that you slept with your friend. but tashi takes notice of the slight frizz in your hair, a dishevelled-ness that is never usually there, so it wasn’t her intention to call you out in front of the four of you when she asks, “why do you look hungover?” she even moves a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a better look at the colour under your eyes. your brows furrow, eyes glancing to the left of you at the two boys whose expressions couldn’t be anymore different. art’s poker face is awful, he’s trying to keep his face composed but his posture slumps under the weight of patrick’s hand that spreads across over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of your breakfast to act like your lungs aren’t constricting and you aren’t going into fight or flight, “late night i guess.”

theres a moment of silence, everyone in their heads peacefully while you wish you could get into art’s and find out what he’s thinking about your pathetic lie.

“nice shirt.” patrick says.

“thanks." you reply, swiping over the embroidered ‘mark rebellat tennis academy’ with a finger and looking up at patrick, who meets your eyes with a knowing smirk that makes you feel silly for not assuming that patrick would have memorised art’s whole closet, or recognise the school they went to.

and when patrick squeezes art’s shoulder and asks whether he is “up for a game?” you suddenly become hyper aware of how much his gaze slips past art’s eyes and down onto you as they stand up from the table, eyes squinting and a stupid smile on his face. the combination is so piercing you’ve become aware that even if tashi believed your lie, and art thinks he’s got away scott free—he knows, and he’s letting you know.

his hand ruffles the hair on art’s head, arm falling over his shoulders and drawing him into himself, “we have a bunch of catching up to do, art.” he keeps art close to him as they walk away towards the tennis courts, leaning in to whisper something into his ear after the both of them briefly turned around to wave you and tashi goodbye.

tashi seems unphased by their behaviour, continuing to braid a small of piece of your hair that she unconsciously started. “you know patrick’s about to tell art all about your get together.” you chuckle and tashi scoffs, leaning back into her chair, “he wouldn’t say anything” she reassures, “also we didn’t even do anything.” she adds in quickly, stealing another piece of watermelon from your bowl and taking a bite to avoid talking about the topic like you hadn’t just done that. you smile at her, and she widens her eyes to let you know that she’ll tell you all about last night later.

“i wouldn’t be so sure.” you shake your head, stealing back the half-bitten melon from in between her fingers and finishing it off.

[cuteandhughesy]

hiii!!! i love your writing, like the angst and the fluff is amazing. i actually had a request for arturs silovs (canucks) or jeremy swayman (bruins obv, for now at least) where they go on reader's popular hockey podcast, which kinda goes viral in the hockey community with many ppl shipping the two, and they kind of get pushed into doing more media stuff together as it brings views for the teams and stuff? im sorry thats all i got, feel free to add or change this if you do choose to write it. thanks

The Alchemy | Jeremy Swayman

summary: having your own sports podcasts was one of the most enjoyable and rewarding jobs you could ever have. when a particular episode with bruins goaltender blows up - you are jermey are pushed together to film more videos. it doesn't help that everybody is shipping you two together - making your growing crush on him become harder to mask.

9.6K

warnings: SFW! friends to lovers | mention of covid -19 | fishing | suggestive dialogue | kissing

a/n: thank you for the request! your idea was so cute that I just had to write! I chose sway obviously so I hope yall love <3 happy halloween 🎃

link to masterlist

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

when you were a little girl you'd often find yourself huddled on the cozy material of the living room couch, watching your dads tv shows until way past your bedtime. you'd always stay quiet, eyes focused only on the tv, too scared that if you'd move you'd be put into bed.

that's when you first fell in love with hockey. having no choice but to watch the tv and seeing professional athletes zip around the stark ice at high speeds, shooting dangerously, and throwing hits - you were immediately drawn into the crazy world of hockey.

but when you're a girl and you express your love for any kind of professional sport, you become immediately labeled; gold digger, clout chaser, a bunny. whether it is football, baseball, basketball, or hockey, nobody believes girls when they say they're into the sport simply because they like the sport.

that's what made you want to start pursuing a hockey related career. you wanted to show everybody that girls, just as well as men, could watch and enjoy a sport without any ulterior motives.

in 2020, with covid-19 at its peak, you started to create hockey related content and post it on tiktok. it was simple videos with just you and your mini microphone - discussing game play, trending and popular news, and nhl players.

it blew up, and after a year of tiktok content, you were approached by barstool sports with the opportunity of a lifetime.

starting a professional sports podcast was intimidating, especially under such a well known company like barstool. you'd be competing with pardon my take, bussin' with the boys, and most famously, spittin' chiclets.

you started with high hopes and a nervous belly, recording a solo episode in your small podcast room. thankfully because of your large following on tiktok, your podcast was a successful one, and you continued to grow into your space and talk all things hockey.

what set you apart from other sports podcasts was your style of content. you were good at remembering these athletes for who they were: human. of course, you'd analyze and discuss their game, but at the end of the day, these men aren't machines and you were always reminding your audience of so.

fans of the podcast described you as 'an amazing sports analysts who perfectly represents how it feels to be a woman in sports. y/n is respectful but honest. funny but kind. clever but not a know it all. pucks in deeper with y/n is the best sports cast for everyone."

it wasn't long before your podcast, titled pucks in deeper, was gaining traction outside of your tiktok fans, and you started getting occasional sponsorships and guests on the show. starting smaller with paul bisosnette and ryan whitney (who graciously had you featured in an episode of their podcast), then landing your first active nhl athlete, only 9 months after starting at barstool.

ryan reaves was the perfect guest for your podcast and perfectly matched your vibe and the vibe of content you wanted to put out into the world. the episode with reaves birthed your first viral clip, and from there you had other professional hockey players wanting to come on your podcast and chat.

at 25 years old, and almost 5 years deep into your podcast, you were thriving. often getting compared to a mixture of bobbi althoff, alex cooper and brittany broski - your content was very personalized to your interviewee, and you specialized in humour and lighthearted conversation that the players were very intrigued by.

obviously, you got hate comments, mostly from people who had nothing better to do. you'd get called a puck bunny, and were told that ‘you knew nothing’, and ‘should quit while you're ahead.’ but that didn't phase you, and you thrived off the negatively. it pushed you to prove them wrong, and continue to have a viral and successful podcast despite the criticism.

——

email from: barstool sports inc

to: y/n y/l/n @pucksindeeperpodcast

y/n,

as usual, your podcast remains a positive and successful experience for our company. we continue to be absolutely blown away by the outpouring support and love for pucks in deeper, and are excited for you to continue at the pace you are still gaining.

due to the incredible virality of your podcast episode with jeremy swayman, we have reached out to both you and swayman with a proposal. the fans and viewers have loved your shared dynamic, and we are wanting to feed off that outpouring obsession by having you and jeremy film some content for our barstool channels.

that includes an expenses paid trip from new jersey out to boston, where you'll be staying for a few days for filming - as well as transportation and hotels in boston.

we are certain this will benefit you and the continuing growth of your podcast.

jeremy swayman's team has already agreed to the terms of the proposal and he is willing to spend time and participate in planned content recordings.

let us know what you're thinking and if you'd be so kind to consider this opportunity.

thank you,

barstool sports inc.

you re-read the email again, knawing on your thumb nail gently. a few weeks ago, the boston bruins goaltender, jeremy swayman, had graciously made an appearance on pucks in deeper. instantly, jeremy became one of your favourite guests. his calm exterior and humor had bounced off your style of interviewing perfectly, and you found yourself feeling very much intrigued by the goalie.

even though the interview was over a zoom, the entire podcast went smoothly. jeremy was kind and a willing participant in all the quizzes, games and questions you'd thrown his way.

there was a clipped video from the podcast your team had uploaded to your channel's tiktok page that had gone viral, and the traction on the swayman episode after that was mind blowing.

PODCAST CLIP

"okay," you start, a gentle and anticipating grin on your face. "this is near the end of our episode - sad, I understand," jeremy laughs at your humor, his eyes squinting. you continue, "and like usual i've hand selected a question from a fan and i've found the perfect one for you."

jeremy's brows raise, "should I feel scared right now?"

you dismiss his question, a gentle grin still softening your expression. "a little birdy told me that you're a big rom-com guy."

"is this little birdy in question named brandon carlo?" jeremy questions knowingly. you'd had the bruins defence man on the podcast the week before, and he'd immediately spilled the embarrassing and memorable tea on his teammates.

"answer the question."

jeremy laughs once, and through the slightly grainy zoom video, you watch him run a hand through his hair. he nods quickly, still smiling with amusement. "i'd say yeah - fuck it, im a self proclaimed rom com enthusiast."

"well I have the most fun question that i've kind of turned into a mini game," you clear your throat, and your eyes briefly flicker down towards your desk top, scanning over your podcast notes. "the question is from @swaymansbae - damn it they stole the username I wanted." you slip in the joke quickly, just a subtle end to your sentence.

it works, and jeremy laughs again. "oh god - you should fight them for it."

you nod, "i'm going to - anyways. @swaymansbae asks what are you favourite rom coms."

jeremy hums appreciatively, already thinking of movies he'd share his love to the hockey world with.

"but I've added my own little twist. okay, so you've all seen how blind ranking things has become just like, this crazy phenomenon online. and i feel left out...so, jeremy i've got a list of 5 of my favourite romantic comedies, and you'll have to blindly rank them - 1 being the best, and 5 being the worst. ready?"

"oh fuck," jeremy huffs a laugh, and you watch him adjust into a more relaxed posture on the camera. he rubs his jawline, eyes bouncing around the computer screen. "i'm feeling nervous now - they're your favourites?"

"yeah," you nod, pushing your blue light glasses higher up the bridge of your nose - your makeup always has them slipping down. "so there is definitely a right and wrong answer."

jeremy curses again, a quiet chuckle coming alongside the swear.

you begin, "10 things I hate about you." you look away from your notebook and back at your computer screen, eyeing jeremy with faux caution.

he hisses through his teeth, teetering his head in quick thought. "i'm going to have to go 5."

"what?!!"

he laughs again, "I don't know…i'm not big on the whole enemies first storyline."

"enemies to lovers, jeremey, get it right."

another chuckle is heard before he starts to defend his rank. "I don't know it's something about that storyline I find so unbelievable. I think if you truly loved one another, you wouldn’t treat each other like that."

you sigh loudly, "okay, I guess that makes sense."

"is that your favourite?" jeremy questions, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"no comment." you clear your throat, reading your next movie from your notes. "next: to all the boys i've loved before."

"i've never seen that one - 4."

"jeremy...oh my god."

he raises his hands in surrender, teeth sparkling where they are just becoming visible under his growing smirk. "it's too new!"

"it came out in like 2018 -"

"- okay and i'm more into the classics. that's not one i've seen, but maybe i'll have to check it out."

"no, yeah you absolutely need to watch it." you tell him, eyeing him over the rim of your tortoise shell lenses.

"it's not enemies to lovers is it?" he gets the name of the trope correct this time around, and it has your lips quirking up pleasantly.

you shrug a shoulder, "no, not really."

his brows furrow, "not really?"

"moving on - how to loose a guy in 10 days."

he claps his hands, rubbing them together. "okay now I can get down with this - amazing movie."

"amazing." you echo, nodding. "and like hello matthew mcConaughey is this movie is like perfect, as well as kate hudson."

"way better than him in the wedding planner." the bruins goalie agrees, leaning forward in his kitchen chair as he gets more engaged with the conversation.

your eyes widen in suprise, "100%. and you wanna know why?"

"he's a cheater in that movie."

you make a noise - a combination of joy and shock escaping your throat. "no exactly! you get me."

"I get you." jeremey nods his head in a jerk like motion, acknowledging you like a flirty teenage boy. "i'm going to have to put that at...damn - gotta go 2."

ever so slightly, your cheeks tinge pink. regardless of your online persona of lighthearted, flirty, and funny, you're easily flustered. it sometimes made your job a bit difficult - but you're also good at your job, so repressing that initial haze from his compliment is quick and easy.

"not 1?"

he kisses his teeth, "something could always be better."

"very optimistic of you - the proposal."

his gentle laughter comes to a soft end, and he eyes you through the camera. "y/n…that's that stupid enemies shit again."

"okay, yeah but this one is different."

"how?" jeremy chuckles.

you splutter for a moment, thinking of some sort of answer. "he's all like scared of her and it's just, I don't know, well executed! and it's not like she's horrible to only him, it's just her personality."

jeremy scrunches his noise, clearly not vibing with the proposal even with your explanation. "what do I have left open?"

you glance at your notes, where you've taken the time to make sure you'd been tracking the places of each of jermey's ranking on the movies. "1 and 3."

he curses. "it's gotta be 3 - I can't put it at 1."

"oh my god, better hope you like this next movie. god forbid if the characters are mean." you tease him, eyeing him playfully through the screen. jeremy's lip tugs up, a grin forming. you continue, "and your number one....the last movie is...she's the man with the lovely amanda bynes and channing tatum."

"okay I'm actually really happy with that. I'm obsessed with that movie." he beams, "that is the kind of rom com that you just can't argue its greatness. not only is it funny and unique, but it's a sports movie - c'mon."

you echo him, "c'mon, what's not to like?!"

"sports romance for the win."

"very fitting," you chime warmly. "are you saying if a girl wants your attention she should disguise herself as brad marchand and zip around the ice."

he barks out a laugh, nodding reluctantly. "something like that."

comments

user1: wait this is everything

user2: OBSSESED

user3: sway + his love for rom coms = my new obsession

user 4: no because they way he's looking at her !

user 5: justice for 10 things I hate about you

user 6: why do I ship them together

user3: no because I was going to say that

user 7: they vibe so well together I need this is be like a weekly thing honestly

user 8: he's got rizz

user 9: MORE pls i love you both

user 10: okay but you two would be the most stunning, perfect couple. the humor matches, the banter, the way they look at each other

user4: just watched this again and omg the way sway says he hates enemies to lovers bc he doesn't believe you could treat somebody you love that badly - CERTIFIED LOVER BOY

the fans were always amazing, but as they loved on the episode, the comments about you and jeremey being cute together and shipping you were coming in at a lightning pace. it had you feeling weary of filming more content with him - despite knowing it would be a professional working environment.

the comments made me you feel like you were falling into the stereotyped female hockey fan category - labeled as a puck bunny or clout chaser. and although you found yourself always growing stronger from those false accusations, it doesn't make you the happiest to see those types of comments.

you sigh gently, pressing the respond tab on the barstool email. through your doubts, you know that barstool is right, and filming more content with jeremy while your podcast episode was still gaining traction was smart. and it's not like jeremy was a bad guest - quite the opposite. so you'll learn to work around the fans who want the two of you to date, and the allegations that you're already in jeremy's pants.

spending time with him would be good, you think. without any idea of what you'd have to participate in, you say yes - looking forward to meeting jeremy and continuing to get to know a potential returning podcast guest - getting shipped together be damned.

no harm, no foul.

boston, here you come.

— youtube: JEREMY SWAYMAN TEACHES Y/N Y/L/N HOW TO FISH

"okay and here we have - camera man, come closer." you gesture for daniel, the younger camera guy to come closer. once he's in your space, you direct his attention towards the portable flat table filled with fishing rods along other fishing things. you continue, "and this right here will be my rod. the fisherman's dream 2000."

beside you, jeremy laughs. he's fiddling with his own fishing pole, attaching the fake shrimp lure on his hook. he's laughing because there's no fishing rod on the table called the fisherman's dream 2000, and you are simply just fooling around.

regardless, your face is very serious, and you continue. "I mean, even though this is my first time fishing, jeremy told me - he actually said this - he said: I can tell you're going to be the best fisherman already so you deserve the nimbus of fishing rods. to which I responded, 'jeremy I'm a fisherwoman not a fisherman.'"

"yeah, you're right I totally said that." gently with his hip, jeremy shuffles you slightly off to the side, making more space. you don't mind, and allow him to move you around with his gentle push. immediately, he reaches for the fishing rod you'd been talking about, picking it up off the table to start attaching bait.

before he hooks the mini lure on, he looks at you. he's already grinning, and one of his brows is raised questioningly. "you sure you don't want to hook it on? you're supposed to be learning."

you cross your arms over your dark green plastic overalls, and the fabric puffs around you awkwardly. "I can watch and learn."

he eyes you slowly, gaze dragging down your body, assessing your fishing attire of rubber boots, overalls and a long sleeve - and back up to your face. jeremy is dressed the same, keeping him dry from the drizzly, cooler june day. "you definitely like to watch, huh?"

your mouth drops slightly, and in an instant you're getting into his space, taking the bait from jermey's calloused fingers. "okay, fine." he's laughing at you gently, watching as you try and attempt to attach the rubber fish to the sharp hook. you curse, merely missing pricking your finger. "this is rigged - there's no way it's supposed to be hard."

gently, jeremy takes over once again, hooking your lure correctly so it's secure on the end of fishing rod. you look back up towards the camera again, "okay and as you can see we've attached the fake bass fishy to the rode - hopefully to catch some big fish." you fist bump in and early celebratory gesture.

chuckling, jeremy shakes his head in amusement. it wasn't a bass lure, and they're aren't even bass on the lake you're at. regardless, he lets you take control and entertain- what you're best at.

"if I was a fish, i'd fall for that fake food -  zoom in on that masterpiece, my god!" daniel the camera man does what you ask, expertly changing the framing on the camera to capture the neon oranges and pinks of the lure.

shrugging, you dig into the tackle box, pulling out some more fishing necessities. things like rolls of fishing line, pliers, scissors and anything in between. you pull out a small pocket knife, holding it wearily as you eye the camera - a frightened expression on your face. "what's this for? are we gutting them?"

jeremey laughs once, shooting you a look as he fiddles with the rod. you had no idea what he was actually doing with the fishing rod, because you've never held a pole in your lifetime. "we're not gutting them." he tugs one of the levers, and the clear fishing line tightens before your eyes.

"then what's the knife for?" you question, swinging it back and forth between two pinched fingers.

he shrugs, testing the retention of his fishing line. "don't worry about it." your eyes widen comically, and the swinging knife comes to a dramatic stop. it has jeremy laughing again, his shoulders shaking as he does. "okay, are you ready to head over to the lake?"

the lake in question was only 10 feet away - the water looking awfully calm through the misty weather.

you turn your body to face jeremy fully, an amused frown tugging at your lips. your brows raise playfully, "am I ready?" you echo, sarcasm lacing your tone. you pull the straps of your rubberized overalls, letting them smack back against your shirt. "i'm ready to catch some fish."

with that, you grab the orange rod from jeremy, bringing it against your chest. jeremy cringes slightly, watching the way your fingers merely miss the hook on the end of your line. on instinct, he reaches out to you, moving your hand gently so that you're out of harms way. "do you remember what I told you?"

you think back to the beginning of filming, after you'd mentioned to everyone that you had absolutely zero clue how to fish. jeremy had nicely said there was nothing to it, and as long as you remembered a few rules, you'd be fine. you sigh in thought, eyes looking into jermey's - his gaze encouraging. "stay calm and speak gently - to not scare the fish."

you're praised immediately, jeremy smiling warmly as he gathers the fishing necessitates to bring down to the water. on the way down, you almost wipe out, practically shrieking as your foot slips down the wet, grassy hill. it would've had you feeling embarrassed, but thankfully jeremy's reflex's were superior (those nhl goalies are on a different level), and he grabs the crook of your elbow to stabilize you.

he smiles slightly, eyeing you playfully when he asks if you're okay. you blush slightly, brushing off your slip with some teasing remark.

when you had arrived at the filming location this morning, you weren't expecting to end up at a fishing park - you weren't expecting fishing period. you'd been left feeling clueless about what you and jeremy would be filming for barstool, and you definitely weren't prepared for water related activities. thankfully, the crew had provided both you and jeremy with proper waterproof attire - your tights and long sleeve align top wouldn't cut it.

right before getting changed, jeremey had shown up and....he was much better looking in person. you hate yourself for even thinking that, and you almost feel guilty for daring to even have those thoughts about an nhl athlete. anytime you think an athlete is cute, you have that guilty feeling - you hate that it plays into that bunny stereotype, even though you'd never get on your podcast and solely discuss an athletes look.

regardless, you're not blind. jeremy swayman was taller than he looks, and broader than expected. he also smelt really good, and his smile had you feeling flustered. it had your online persona feeling more real, and your borderline flirty comments had you getting hot and bothered - especially when jeremy flirts and teases back.

off camera, you and jeremy (mostly jeremy) set up the fishing equipment on the dock; poles, extra bait, and even adorable little camping chairs - you really felt like you were getting the premium fisherman experience. he runs over simple fishing techniques and hacks, showing you how to keep ahold of the rod, how to reel your line and casting. the camera catches all your poor attempts, as well as jeremy covering his snicker behind his hand - his amusement at your poor cast very evident.

5 minutes into fishing

you jerk the rod slightly, trying the movements jeremy had showed you just two minutes prior - trying to snag any fish nibbling around your bait.

you sigh gently, pursing your glossy lips outwards. eyeing jermey, you ask, "so like what kind of fish are we exactly trying to catch?"

jeremy hums, "some perch would be nice. or possibly cod, or halibut..." he trails off, eyeing your confused face, and the look you're giving him has a subtle smirk tugging at his upper lip. he breathes a laugh, "you have no idea what I just said, do you?"

you bark an unattractive laugh, and that has jermey's smile deepening. "not a clue."

"that's okay," he assures you immediately, and his leg moves towards you like he was planning to knock your thighs together reassuringly. but your bodies don't touch, and it has you feeling a little disappointed. "everyone has their own interests. besides sports, what else do you like?" he looks towards you quickly, but looks back at the water when he feels his line tug slightly - nothing has bitten unfortunately.

you swing your fishing pole back and forth tiredly, enjoying the way the water ripples from your line moving on the surface. "oh god - honestly i'm into a lot of stuff; movies, books, fashion, food. you name it and i'm into it." you pause, eyeing him playfully. "you must not watch my podcast - I tend to talk about myself a lot."

jeremy looks back at you quickly, but once he sees that you're clearly being playful, his once tight shoulders relax, and he smiles gently. "maybe I get distracted when I watch your podcast and don't catch everything you say."

he was insinuating that he's distracted by your face - his teasing gaze and laughing smirk has you clueing into jermey's underlying undertones.

you clear your throat. you can feel heat rise to your makeup covered cheeks, and you advert your gaze back to the lake - trying to distract yourself from the whirling fluster caused by jermey's flirting. "well guess you'll just have to hear me talk about it all over again."

11 minutes into fishing

"what's your opinion on one direction, jeremy?"

he pauses from reeling his fishing line in momentarily, and a very small, breathy laugh falls from his tinted lips. jeremy looks at you, scratching his stubble in thought. "love them." he admits.

you smile automatically at jeremy's willingness to answer you absurd, random questions - just like he's been doing since you first meet through a zoom meeting for your podcast. your brows raise questionably though, not truly believing that a 25 year old man would vibe to a british teen boy group.

"okay," you hum questionably, "but who's your favourite?"

jeremy doesn't back down, keeping eye contact with you - reeling in his fishing line long forgotten. "who do you think it is?"

now you're invested. you squint at him, deep in thought. you look jermey once over, "probably zayn. yeah, you give big zayn vibes."

he smiles, brows pulled tightly. jeremy jerks his head at you, expression full of curiosity. "who's your favourite?"

"louis." you tell him.

jeremy laughs triumphantly, "i knew you'd be a louis girl."

you click your tongue, and adjust your seating position. without thinking, you let go of the fishing rod so you can push yourself upwards in the chair. before the most likely expensive rod takes a tumble into the misty water, jermey catches it, jolting across your thighs so he can grab it before it plunges.

you don't notice the chaotic series of events, and you smile, still thinking of the one direction conversation. "what can I say," you hum, " I like them a little wild."

jeremy eyes the camera - a mixture of amusement and fear on his face.

19 minutes into fishing

jeremy watches you intently, observing the way you change your bait. there'd been nothing caught yet, and honestly you were playing up the impatient act pretty well.

so, jermey suggested to change the bait on your hook. that way you'd not only be able to have a new opportunity to attract fish, but also learn how to change your lure.

he sighs gently, "okay, you're still not hooking it right." he leans closer to you, the arm rest digging into his muscled side.

"oh, shut up." you grumble, making sure your playful flare is very prevalent in your tone.

jeremy takes the pink bait from your fumbling fingers, properly demonstrating the correct way to attach it to the sharp hook. "you shut up." he echos you, nudging your side with his elbow - his hands not once leaving your fishing rod.

"make me." the underlying suggestiveness that can be taken from your remark doesn't dawn on you at first - but as soon as jeremy pauses, and gives the camera a knowing glance, brow quirked playfully, you realize your mistake.

you blush, and without really knowing what else to do, once jeremy fixes your lure and pulls away, you throw the extra fake fish at him, hitting his bicep.

25 minutes into fishing

"holy shit," you beam, eyeing jeremy beside you. when his posture suddenly changed, as well as his body position- muttering a curse under his breath, you knew something was happening. you watch him reel the line expertly, "do you have a fish right now?"

"yup," jeremy's tongue darts out, tucking against the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on reeling in his catch. it's not much labour for him to bring in the fish, effortlessly lifting it out of the water. it's a pretty big fish, you think, considering you've never seen a living fish this close.

he holds it expertly, detaching the hook lodged in the fishes throat. ones it's free, he switches hands so he's pinching the lip between two fingers, holding it out.

"oh my god, you're like really good at this." you compliment, tilting your head to get a better look at the side of the fish, eyeing its reflective, slippery scales.

"you like that, huh?" he spins the fish in between his fingers, allowing you to get a proper look at all angles. jeremy grins, eyes watching your wondrous face. "want to hold it?"

you frown unpleasantly, eyes darting between jermey's reassuring face and the scaly fish gripped in between his fingers. "I don't know?" it comes out like a question, your weariness about holding the fish clear.

"you got it," he assures you, "come here." he holds his free arm out, silently gesturing you to come towards him.

almost reluctantly, you take the few steps left between you, and stand beside him. the camera catches it all; jeremy practically gentle parenting you as he shows you how to properly hold the fish, the uncertain expression pulling at your face, and the shriek you let out when the fish starts to squirm around - its tail flapping up against your wrist.

"oh it's slimy," you state the obvious, holding it as far away from your body as human possible. it squirms again, and you can feel your fingers slipping away from their grip. you look at a smiling jeremy, who's clearly having fun watching you struggle. "jer, yup."

you gesture the fish at him, eyes darting between the aquatic animal and jeremy.

"he's fine." he smiles through gentle laughter.

"no, no, take the fish."

32 minutes into fishing

you reel in one last time, watching the fish come up from the waters surface, dangling off your hook. it's squirming around, water spraying all over.

jeremy comes up beside you, helping you bring your fishing pole upwards to properly display and hold the fish. "yes, y/n," he smiles praisingly. his arms come around you from behind, adjusting your positioning.

you're too distracted by the fish frolicking around at the end of your clear line to feel flustered by jeremy's closeness - paying no mind to the gentle way he helps you. "oh my god," you beam, "I just caught a fish." 

"yeah you did!" jeremy nods encouragingly, slipping his body around to your side. he looks between the fish and your bright eyes, and he squeezes your bicep warmly - oh, he's still got an arm around you. "you gotta try and take it off the hook."

"no. jer, i'm scared!" you tell him immediately, "I can't do that."

"you can," he assures you, "just try once, and if you really feel uncomfortable after that, ill do it, okay?" his warm eyes stare into yours softly, providing a comforting vibe towards your clear uncertainty.

that combined with his sweet smile and the heat of his body, which, yes, his arm was still wrapped assuringly around your body, has you sighing shakily and you nod. "okay, i'll do it. i'll try just for you."

— tiktok video:

when you'd finished up filming, one of the producers who'd been off working in some white, pop-up tent while you'd be with jeremy, informed you that before leaving, they need you and jeremy to make a tiktok.

but surprisingly, they gave you and jeremy a lot of creative freedom with the direction of the video. meaning, you'd get to choose the audio and your positions and presentation of the tiktok.

"twin" the audio starts through the phone, and you mouth the beginning of the song. the camera catches you stepping out of one of the trucks, mimicking you as if you'd just got to the filming sight. you've still got your fishing gear on - rubber overalls and boots included.

the next shot is on jeremy, who you both decided would be at the picnic bench, looking like he was waiting for you. as the audio starts, he whips around towards the camera, lip syncing to the next line of the audio. "where have you been?" he points off camera at you, and his overalls squeak at the friction of movement.

you laugh at him behind the camera, stifling your laugh into a clenched fist. jermey finishes that part of the audio with a large wink in your direction, and you shake your head with amusement- a giant blush covering your cheeks.

"nobody knows me like you do." you're at the picnic table for the next part, and you previously decided to pretend one of the fishing rods was a microphone, singing into it sarcastically.

the audio continues, and jeremy comes into screen behind you, taking the fishing pole turned microphone to sing the next line. "nobody can't love me quite like you can."

the last remaining seconds of the audio, you wanted to capture you and jeremy from a distance. as an ode to your famous podcast episode clip, you and jeremy previously decided on recreating the dirty dancing lift for the video. right before beginning to film the last part, jeremy checks in on you to make sure that you're still feeling okay with being lifted, which sends your heart running rampant in your chest.

the camera is set to slow-mo, but in real life it feels like you're running a million miles an hour. the way jeremy easily lifts you into the air and over his head - his hands splay over the entirety of your hip bones, holding you steady.

you're glad for the ridiculous overalls in this moment, because you think if you'd be able to feel the warmth from his hands too close to your skin, you'd die.

10 minutes later, when you and jeremy are watching the video back, you get all those fluttering, nervous butterflies once again. he laughs against you, body just grazing your backside as he watches the tiktok over your shoulder.

as the lift plays out on the phone, he leans in closer, his chin gently brushing against your shoulder. out of the corner of your eye, you look at him. jeremy is smiling, eyes bright as he watches the end of the tiktok. his woodsy scent is intoxicating, and you can count every freckle sprinkled across his nose with him being so close.

suddenly, he looks at you. his smile doesn't falter, and if anything it changes into a more smirky, excited one. "that's a good one, don't you think?" briefly, you watch his eyes flicker away, landing farther down your flushed face before meeting your gaze again.

you nod once, blinking gently. "yes....really good."

— 9 months later: NHL ALL-STAR GAME

there's not a day that's gone by since the videos of you and jermey had been posted to the barstool media accounts, that you haven't been tagged, sent or mentioned in a clip of the two of you. fans loved you and jeremy, and still continued to blow up not only the fishing video and tiktok, but your podcast as well.

there's also not a day that's gone by since leaving jeremy in his rubberized overalls that you haven't thought of him. in the few conversations you've had face to face with him, you've been left feeling rather smitten and flustered with jeremy swayman. it doesn't help that before you left boston 9 months ago, jeremy had asked for your contact - all smooth and smirky. it obviously had you swooning and giving him your number.

so in all these months, you and jermey had been in contact. it started simple, with sweet check ins every couple days, you congratulating him on wins, and teasing him for his game day suits - but that soon turned into more flirtatious, and playful conversations. on a few occasions, you'd even sent him tiktok edits of himself, accompanied by a sequence of heart eye emojis from you.

jeremy would like and shamelessly comment on all your photos on instagram, and vice versa. which obviously has the shipping edits and comments spiralling to an unfathomable level. at first, you were worried that jeremy would feel uncomfortable with the fans wanting you two together, showing their support through comments and videos - but no, jeremy loved it all.

him having enjoyment in the relationship shipping between you both has you feeling even more into him - your feelings for jeremy growing stronger and stronger. that combined with fun text threads, edits and occasional facetimes from jeremy, has you crushing hard on the bruins goal tender.

two months ago, you had the nhl social administration and event team reached out to your team and ask if you'd been interested in interviewing nhl players on the red carpet for the nhl all star game. it was such a surreal moment and immediately you took the offer.

for the entire two months since accepting the opportunity to be an interviewer for the nhl social team, you'd been looking forward to the february, toronto bound event. the nhl administration has taken care of the expenses, as well as wardrobe and makeup for you - which is wild.

now here you are, standing on the red carpet while interviewing amazingly good nhl superstars. thankfully, you've meet and interviewed a lot of these guys on pucks in deeper, which leaves no room for awkwardness. the players know you and your style of interviewing, and that visibly has them lightning up from their previous over professional exteriors.

you're mid conversation with tom wilson, listening intently as he answers one of your more serious interview questions, when you feel your heart speed up.

it's weird - at first as you're not sure why exactly you've become nervous. you swallow, adjusting the mini-microphone by your painted lips - your gold bracelets clinking against each other. as subtly as you can manage, you let your eyes wander down the carpet, and it doesn't take you long to see and understand the sudden change in your hearts pace.

kids near the entrance of the arena are all calling for jeremy, their hands tightly holding out bruins memorabilia for him to sign.

the light catches the silver chain on jeremy's neck,  complimenting his shining smile to make his grin look even brighter. you clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from jeremy and back towards your interviewee. thankfully, tom is clueless to your shift of mood, and is still happily answering into his own tiny microphone.

you've only got one more interview before you get to talk to jeremy. it's with mat barzal, who if you weren't so infatuated by the bruins goalie , you'd been shamelessly flirting with. you'd never had barzal on your podcast before, but that didn't matter - talking with him was anything but akward. it was nice, and (if you aren't going insane) you're pretty sure the islanders forward was flirting with you.

but you're too blinded by jeremy to entertain any of those thoughts. soon enough, he's next in queue, chatting to his assistant without realizing what exactly he's in line for.

you lock eyes as he is directed towards you, and immediately you feel yourself relax. your once tense shoulders fall back into a comfortable position, and your cheeks heat pleasantly as a smile automatically grows on your face. instinctively, you're falling into your interview shoes (currently very glamorous shoes). "you just can't stay away from me for too long, huh?" you tease him as your social director passes him the mini mic.

jermey's smile is matching yours, his gaze not leaving you as he takes the microphone, holding it tightly between two fingers. "what can I say? you look great!"

you drag your free hand down the front of your red dress, the soft material tickling the pads of your tanned fingers. "why thank you, jer. i've got to say i'm digging this look on you - much better than the boring suits you usually wear."

jeremy smiles at your lighthearted jab to his fashion choices. his last game, you'd given him slack on his boring suit choice and had followed with a text thread of insane, over the top suits you'd considered better options. "I was taking inspiration from the ones you'd sent me."

you hope fans don't piece together any insinuations from jermey's comment  referencing your texts. although it has you blushing, you recover from your fluster relatively quickly, and you reach towards him, poking one of the black, shiny buttons on jeremy’s jacket. "and tell us what you're wearing mister fancy jacket."

he looks down at the material of his suit jacket, "i've got a custom todd snyder on - very comfortable and stylish. it's just what I was looking for when I was trying to find a jacket for this event."

you nod understandably, "yes, like cute and professional but also cozy."

your chipper tone has jeremy's smile growing. his warm tinted eyes go hazy, and they rather slowly watch you - tracing down your dress covered neck, down your bare arms, and all the way down to your painted toes peeking out your heels. his tongue wets his plump, bottom lip, and his eyes find yours again. "you look cute and cozy."

even if he's meaning it innocently, you can't help but think otherwise. what feels like the 20th time since the start of the interview, you blush. "were twins then." you shrug sweetly, as if to show the audience that the way you were speaking to one another was no big deal - hopefully they buy it …because you certainly don't.

jeremy’s smitten grin grows wider. he bites the skin of his bottom lip, tucking it between his teeth seductively. it's like he's in a trance, which usually would have you feeling creeped out or weird, but because it's jeremy and not some random guy, you feel your skin prickle pleasantly, and your knees begin to feel weak.

the camera man clears his throat - a subtle and gentle reminder that you're supposed to be interviewing jeremy, not eye fucking him.

you blink. "unfortunately, I have to get a little boring, jer. can you tell me and the viewers what you're looking forward to the most at all star weekend. sorry I know, boring and repetitive." you stick your tongue out, blowing a raspberry.

your noise mimicks a fart if anything, and jermey laughs a real laugh - all teeth and squinted eyes. he rubs his chin in thought, but comes up with an answer pretty quickly. for the first time tonight, his media training is kicking in. "i'm really looking forward to just spending time with all these amazing guys and having fun on the ice."

teasingly, you purse your painted lips, cocking your head to the left. "so not me?"

through his constant grin, jeremy clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth - nodding at your correction. "okay, maybe you too."

you give the camera lenses an unimpressed look, as if to say - is this guy being for real? you shake your head, playing into your annoyed persona. "since our fishing video together, which thank you to the fans for blowing that up -"

"- oh my good, yes, thank you." jeremy adds on, nodding thoughtfully.

you continue, "fans want to know...what is your favourite one direction song?"

jeremy exhales loudly, eyes bouncing between you and the camera lens - a whisper of a curse heard from under his breathe.

you nod understandably, "we've really got the hard hitting questions, so I can understand if you need to take a second to think-"

"kiss you." jermey interrupts with a triumphant tone, and he looks very proud of his answer.

"that was pretty fast - why kiss you?"

his slinky smile is back, and it has your stomach falling all the way down to your feet. "why not?" jeremy shrugs one suit covered shoulder nonchalantly, and the sleeve of his jacket brushes against your bare arm at the same time.

you smile, "what's been your favourite part of toronto so far?"

this time, jermey's answer is instant. "you."

you laugh proudly, nodding in approval. "that's a better answer."

behind the camera, one of the social directors holds up a pamphlet, one that she'd change throughout the night. it only ever said a last name - the last name of whichever nhl player was next and approaching your interview area. it was essentially a one minute warning, and she was trying to tell you to start wrapping up your conversation with jeremy.

disappointment pangs deep into your chest, the thought of having to part ways from jeremy is not one you enjoy.

reluctantly, you look away from the director holding william nylander's name up over the camera man, and set your gaze back on jeremy. "okay, i've got a two part question. firstly, are you up for a little challenge?"

he nods, "right now I think you could probably talk me into anything. so yes."

your heart flutters but you stay composed. "good. secondly, which celebrity team do you hope picks you? because personally i'm hoping you get team tate, so you can sneak me in for a picture with her."

jermey laughs again, his head rolling backwards. "obviously id be happy with any team, but if I get tate...I got you."

you smile brightly, "thanks jer."

"anytime."

"we appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to chat with us, we always love catching up with you."

"thank you for having me, y/n/n." the sudden nickname has your heart beat coming to a dramatic halt, and from now on all you ever want to hear is jeremy swayman's voice, saying your name over and over again.

there's a brief moment before nylander gets to your portion of the carpet - he is currently too caught up with screaming fans and paparazzi. the camera lens isn't focused on you as the camera man fiddles with some of the dials, affectively blocking the two of you from its view.

jeremy passes the tiny microphone back to you, and his fingers graze yours softly on the way back. you swallow nervously, meeting his gaze once more.

he clears his throat and suddenly he seems almost...nervous. he rubs his hand against his jawline scruff once, a nervous habit he’s always had. "hey, after the stuff going on tonight, a couple guys and their girlfriends were planning on getting dinner. I was wondering if you'd like to tag along?"

your eyes widen in suprise, "guys and their girlfriends?"

he breathes laugh, "yeah. I want you to come with me."

"okay," you nod bashfully, "i'll come."

you watch william nylander enter your queue behind jermey's broad shoulder, chatting happily with your director as she goes over the process. you've interviewed nylander before, so it will be another breezy and entertaining interview- especially with the swedes personality.

jeremy's grin is blinding, bringing you back into reality. "great," he sighs, "i'll text you after."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

-- DINNER

you take another hearty gulp of your spiced red wine, letting the clash of flavours sit on your tongue briefly before swallowing fully.

you're on your third - maybe fourth? - glass of your preferred wine, and sure, maybe you were using the buzz as a way to calm your erratic, exited heart. since jeremy had texted you after the events of the all star celebrity draft, you've been filled with happy butterflies - and only a part of that was because of the picture he sent you of him with tate mcrae.

jeremy had walked to your hotel room -he didn't want to just meet outside or just meet at the restaurant, he picked you up on the 10th floor of the expensive toronto hotel. he had complimented your new, dinner appropriate outfit - a shiny maroon top with sleek pants and jacket and you had shared the compliment back at him.

you had to clench your thighs together to calm yourself when you were right outside the extravagant glass entryway of the restaurant, pastrnak just seeing and waving you both over, when jeremy leaned down, lips brushing your ear and admitted he hadn't stopped thinking about you and your sexy little dress.

so, yeah, the wine was definitely needed. you stab one of the only remaining potatoes onto your expensive silverware, bringing it up and past your lips. you chew lazily, listening quietly to the conversations around you. after all, it had been a few hours of meaningless conversations since you and jeremy arrived - your borderline drunk brain needed a minute.

the potato was cold now, and the gravy coated it had that slimey film coating. you pull a face to yourself, chewing the mushy food quicker than before, trying to get to swallowing it faster.

fingers tickle your arm over the sheer material of your blouse - jacket long abandoned over the back of your chair. you look over to jeremy, who's got his arm rested loosely on top your jacket - the culprit of your bicep tickles.

he looks amused, "you okay?"

with no regards to the food in your mouth, you turn towards him and begin to speak. "my potato is cold."

jeremy chuckles lowly, continuing the leisure up and down motion with the pads of his fingers against your covered skin. "want to spit it out?" he can tell you're teetering on drunk, and he doesn't mind at all. you're at the perfect level of buzzed - still controlled and conscious, but also having no care in the world. jeremy feels pleased that you feel comfortable enough to let go with him, and he finds amusement with your usual laid back, humorous behaviour.

you shake your head, finally swallowing the food in your mouth. you turn your body into his, and push your body against the side of your chair, trying to get closer to the man beside you. jeremy raises his brows questionably, the start of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't spit."

the suggestive undertones to your words don't go unnoticed, and jeremy is spluttering. his cheeks tint pink, and he takes a harsh swallow. you bite down onto your lip to contain the flurry of giggles that want to pass, and you lean further into jermey's bicep behind you.

finally, he collects himself. behind you, you can feel his elbow bend, and with the new position he can come around to the side of your head - his fingers taking some of your hair between them, gently running through your strands. "no?"

you shake your head. "nuh uh."

"so, y/n." the sound of a fork hitting someone's plate combined with them calling your name, has you pulling away and out of jermey's personal bubble. you're back to the reality of who you are and what you're doing here - not just at dinner tonight, but in toronto this week. you're supposed to be a professional. your cheeks flush with the guilt of feeling caught - even though you're not actually doing anything wrong.

kenna, mat barzal's girlfriend, is looking at you expectantly, her pointed chin resting on her tanned palm. you resist the urge to huff at the sight of her sour face. since the start of the evening, kenna has been very passive aggressive towards you - no compliment was given without a condescending remark. not only that, but mat had been very flirty and friendly with you since the red carpet, and although you've been unresponsive to him, it only fuelled kenna's fire.

she hums in faux interest, eyeing you and jeremy. "so like, it must be nice with your podcast and having the pick of like any and every nhl player you want, huh?"

a couple of people sitting at the lengthy table hear, and they look down at you quickly. you laugh awkwardly, eyes briefly meeting the crisp, white table cloth below you. you shrug, "I suppose? everyone is really nice, and i'm very grateful for their support."

she laughs, "I mean, like, do you just like, fuck any of them?"

her words are like a stab to your chest. all those derogatory hate comments and misogynistic remarks come rushing back to you. you don't know what to say, even though no, you've never hooked up or dated any nhl player, especially while you're working with them. but you can also understand why kenna would think that - the way you're cuddling up and talking with jeremy is very much telling.

that guilty feeling is back, and all you can do is just stare at kenna's smug face - mouth open wordlessly.

"I don't think it's any of your business, honestly." jeremy’s voice is firm, but not unkind, as he responds for you. "it's nobody business but hers. y/n is ridiculously good at her job, and she is way past the point of having to prove that she's serious about her work."

kenna laughs it off, mentioning something about just playing around as she takes another sip of her mixed drink. the conversation slowly starts up around you again, and without the attention focused on you and the awkward exchange, you feel like you can finally exhale.

you look at over at jeremy, your eyes glossy and wide. his expression is hard, and his brows are pulled tightly together in irritation.

"you didn't need to say anything...I'm used to those kind of comments." you try and dismiss your feelings - trying to lighten the mood, but jeremy doesn't buy it.

he shakes his head, "you shouldn't have to deal with that - especially from some douche bags girlfriend."

the end of his sentence has you cracking into a smile, a breathy laugh following. "thank you." you take a quick inhale, stopping your quiet laughter. your face turns serious again, "but I don't do that - i'm not some crazed, horny, puck bunny in disguise. that's not what this is." you gesture between the two of you without thinking, and you feel your lips falling into a frown - your emotions catching up to you.

jeremy mimics your frown, and before he can stop himself, he reaches out and takes ahold of your hand. he gently keeps ahold of you, bringing your hand down to rest on his lap. jeremy runs his thumb along the wrinkles of your palm, soothing you. "you don't need to justify anything to me."

you nod silently.

"ready to head out?" jeremy questions gently. you answer yes quickly, letting jeremy help you out of your seat and into your winter jacket. he gives david some money - enough to cover both of your meals before he guides you out of the restaurant, hand in yours.

the walk back to the hotel is pleasant, the once lingering awkward feeling from the restaurant vanishing once you and jeremy were alone. like earlier in the night, jeremy comes to your hotel door - he doesn't suggest that you'll go your separate ways once in the elevators, or part ways in the lobby, he doesn't even hesitate to walk you back.

before you swipe your key card in the holder, you torn to face jeremy. you smile, leaning your bodies weight onto the closed hotel door. "I had a nice time tonight, jer - although I think it's only because you were there."

he laughs gently, "i'm glad you came."

you cringe at yourself and your rather rude insinuation about everyone else at the restaurant tonight - even if it was true. "sorry, when I drink wine I have a hard time controlling my mouth."

jeremy shuffles closer to you, so subtle that you don't even register him moving. he shrugs, "I don't mind. they deserve it."

you giggle. "and you also look really good - like, all the time. I haven't stopped thinking about you in fucking, like, 9 months." you shake your head, "sorry - the wine." you remind him.

"don't apologize, if wine makes you say things like that, I never want you to stop drinking it." jeremy reaches out to you, resting his large hand on the side of your jaw. his thumb strokes your ear lobe softly, running over your studded earring.

your stomach swoops, silently looking up at him. jeremy is so much taller than you, standing over you like a damn giant. the position of you two has you feeling small - sexy. your tongue darts out, wetting your lips. your lipstick has faded throughout the night, and your spit adds more colour to them - more appeal.

but jeremy thinks you've never not looked like the most beautiful, amazing, appealing woman he's ever seen. he smirks slowly, a warm, syrupy feeling in the air around you. "I really like you, y/n - so much that it's kind of embarrassing."

you smile, "I don't think it's embarrassing, especially because I feel the same way....but I think my wine mouth gave that away."

"it sort of did." he teases.

you huff gently, eyes twinkling with amusement. before you can say anything back, jeremy leans down and kisses you. the wine flavours mix between you, and the exchange of quick kisses combined with slow, tongue chasing kisses making your knees buckle.

jeremy presses you further against the door, his thigh slotting between yours to provide an extra form of stimulation. you sigh into his mouth, holding onto his shoulders warmly as you continue to make out in the hotel hallway.

reluctantly, you pull away. you're breathing heavy, heart pumping loudly through your ears from the adrenaline high. "maybe we should clam down - we're in public."

"shhh," kiss. "just a little bit more." his words are mumbled, his lips brushing against yours. jeremy’s lips find yours again, and all your worries float away.

you blindly grab ahold of your key card, and it takes a couple of attempts of trying to slide it through without the use of your vision - but you get it. jeremy’s lips don't leave yours, and you don't want them too. he uses his body to push you both through the door and into the hotel room, kicking the door shut with his dress shoe behind him.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[theoceansluvr]

Baseball Player! Percy Jackson x Reader

warnings; none ! author's notes; oooo how i love baseball player Percy headcanons.. i eat up every single moodboard people make of him it's insane !!! watched an entire Yankees game while writing this too sooo.. (Juan Soto come home the kids miss you😞)

behind the lovely Sally Jackson herself, you're his biggest fan !!

there's nobody louder than you two cheering Percy's name

he gives you his training jersey because of course he does.

this man's ego inflates tenfold whenever you wear it too

especially if it's a jersey with his last name on it too

he's has a million thoughts going through his head about everything ever

in his defense, you look really good with a big 03 on your back so he's not complaining !

you know how players like.. run the top of the bat over the sand ?(i can't explain this but y'all know what i mean)

well he does your initial

nobody really questions it either

he does it in games, in practice, everything

watches every single Yankees game(me too)

he actually daydreams about playing for them it's kinda cute

he's a die hard New Yorker what can i say ?

you could start dating him not even caring about baseball and 3 months in you know almost all the rules and top players

he's a bit of a yapper-

anyways !

he brings you to the batting cage with him

mainly because he's a show off but also because he wants to teach you how to play !

of course he won't force you

but that dorky smile on his face when he sees you try is well worth the terror of getting hit in the face

good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good lu-

you get the point

also kisses for winning or losing

usually winning because he's an absolute UNIT on his team

has you initials embroidered onto his hat im afraid

likes pitching but is an insane hitter

jack of all trades if you will

if you won't that's alright too

you make him those really cool gift boxes

you made one for him after his last game of the season and he actually cried

he never takes off/gets rid of whatever you gave him

plus you bring snacks so his team is obsessed with you

they ask more about you than they do Percy i'm not even kiddin'

uhhh possibly, maybe is on his best performance all the time but ESPECIALLY when you come to his games + practices

his coach literally encourages you to come because of this fact

calls you his lucky charm

"Everytime you come, we always win !" as if he doesn't always play well

which you explained to him, to which he brushed off and ignored

".. You're initials on my hat helped ?"

he's trying okay ?

the first time you took him to an actual MLB game he lost it

peppered you and kisses and couldn't sit still the whole time

he was the loudest one in the stadium i can tell you that much !

would also FREAK if he got his bat signed by his favorite player

who that may be is entirely up to y'all

i feel like he follows the necklace tradition so he wears a little locket that has a picture of you two in it

you are the only person that can touch his bat

he considers it bad luck for anybody else except you

that's all of my long windedness for tonight im afraid loves🗣️

i love you baseball and i love you more Percy Jackson !!

[6xillaa]

If requests is still up then - Can you please do a kenji sato x best friend/ extrovert x introvert relationship. Where kenji likes showing off , reader is reserved. And like a balanced relation?!🙏

Kenji x !introverted bestfriend reader

my requests are open dw! actually this is my first ever ask, so idrk how i'll do- but i think i got what u wanted correctly? (pls tell me if im wrong) also, as usual i dont proof read so mind my mistakes! (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

cw: ken sato x gender neutral reader, relatively sfw, introverted reader, (pre-relationship) best friend reader, reader is a pessimist, ken is aggresively kind (kinda)

-bestfriend! kenji who aggresively shakes you while holding your arm. "y/n!" kenji yells excitedly, this made you drop your book, bending its pages. "oh my- what do you want ji?" you grumbled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. "you~" he flirted while smirking.

-bestfriend! kenji who gets a flick in the middle of his forehead. "you made me drop my book." who'd rub the spot with a pout playing on his lips. "that hurttt" he whined. "and what do you want me to do about it?" youd query, picking up your book tryying to find the page. "a kiss to make the pain go away?"hed smile.

-bestfriend! kenji who's smile would grow wider once he felt your soft lift press against his head briefly. "thank you!" hed drag out before swinging an arm pver your shoulder to bring you closer. you know, regular friend things.

-bestfriend! kenji who always forces you out of your comfort zone by dragging you to events such as concerts, parades, festivals and most recently the movies. the movies where hed buy everything for you both, eat an absurd amount of snacks you both knew would make his tummy hurt and yet he still did. putting on a mask to not draw any unwanted attention to you both. forcing you to watch horror movies with him that had an excessive amount of blood and nightmare fuel, making you cling onto his arm whenever itd make you jump. not that he minded. of course he wouldnt mind, he never did when it was you.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd rent out the entire theater if you really didnt want to interact with anyone. youd always try to discourag him from doing so, saying he shouldnt spend a lot of money on you, but he always says its fine. he loves to show off his wealth to you, and he also loves to spoil you. buyinng you gifts and practically anything you wanted. just say the word and youll have it. perks of having rich baseball players as a (sadly) best friend.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd drag you into various fancy stores that someone of your working class would have no idea about just so you could rate the things hed grab. "does this shirt look good on me?" hed ask, as if he could look bad in anything. and youd nod, a slight warmness in your cheeks when youd watch him change in and out of each shirt. trying your best to not stare.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd lay his head on yours or on your shoulder after a tiring game. only wanting to sleep. and you didnt mind, just ruffling his hair and enjoying the company of your friend. all while ignoring the little voices in your friend that were desperately trying to change the word friend into something else.

-bestfriend! kenji who promises to always be by your side in larger crowds. tuggling you close enough so that you felt the warmth generating off of his body. you especially liked this warmth during the winter, he was like your own personal fireplce wrapped in a ball of cuteness and a ribbon of sarcasm.

-bestfriend! kenji who you may or may not have feelings for. the same kenji who just asked you out on a date.

(i hope i didnt dissapoint, ty again for submitting an ask, i hope i did u justice!)

[vampzity]

ball game | J.YH

—✫ pairing: boyfriend! yunho x gn! reader

—✫ genre: fluff, headcanon, baseball au, ateez, jeong yunho

—✫ description: in delusional once again and i’m in shambles over yunho’s baseball pics🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

—✫ wc: 440

bf! yunho who is beyond excited for you to take him to a baseball game after so long.

bf! yunho who makes you get a matching jersey with him because he loves it when you two match.

bf! yunho who clings to you like a pup so that he doesn’t lose you through the crowd.

bf! yunho who takes out his phone every few minutes just to record parts of the game.

bf! yunho who gets excited when he’s on the big screen and asks you to dance with him.

bf! yunho who cheers loudly for his team, as he’s been following them since he was a child.

bf! yunho who gets chosen to throw a pitch in the game and begs you to come with him to record it.

bf! yunho who waves to the crowd, and blows a small kiss in your direction, earning a smile from you.

bf! yunho who takes a deep breath as he steps up to the plate. he grabs the ball from the pitcher, bowing to show respect.

bf! yunho who throws a hard pitch, causing a strike for the other team. he throws it two more times causing them to strike out.

bf! yunho who smiles proudly as the crowd cheers for him and runs to you with open arms. he pulls you into a big hug, practically picking you up from the ground.

bf! yunho who asks you to take pictures of him and the mascot, as well as other baseball players he admires.

bf! yunho who follows your back to your seats, grabbing food on the way back for you both.

bf! yunho who finishes all his food and yours if you can't finish the rest of your own.

bf! yunho who gets shy when he accidentally lets out a loud burp right in front of you.

bf! yunho who is unaware that you two have made it onto the kiss cam when you pull him into a small kiss.

bf! yunho who is caught off guard by the kiss but still gives it in return be he adores you greatly.

bf! yunho who catches a foul ball and jumps for joy as he shows it off to you.

bf! yunho who at the end of the game, rushes you to go ahead and get his ball signed by one of the players, just so he can keep it on display at home.

bf! yunho who repeatedly thanks you for finding the time to take him to the game, despite his busy schedule.

bf! yunho who is beyond grateful for you, and wouldn’t trade you for the entire world.

a/n: i figured since i did wooyoung, i would do a yunho version too! these are super fun to make so ill have to do more of these especially when im working on one shots :D

taglist: @skzline @rvereri @evidive @vrtualsins @xoxkii

@sanslovesblog @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @honeyhwaaa @sundaybossanova

@kittykat-25 @losrpark @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @aestheticjoonie @interweab

@roomsofangel @mingtinysworld @minghaoslatina @vnessalau

*comment to be added to the taglist!*

—divider creds to owner—

[lndsismaeverything]

"Come on let's go home " | Gojo satoru

Drunk Gojo x reader

Eating out with your fellow coworkers in a restaurant. Which ment eating and drinking knowing gojo can't hold his Alcohol. In which you had to dragg his ass to your apartment. But also got something inter turn

Fluffy fluff. Short. Not proof read

"Sorry I'm late " you said sliding the door open to see your fellow coworkers and friends

"Y/n! " Gojo and utahime called out to you, their faces brighted seeing you.

" I had a meeting with the higher ups . It took longer then expected " you said sitting next to shoko who had a few drinks already, judging by the dust of pink on her cheeks.

" we've already order your favorite it should be here any time " shoko handed you a drink which you thanked her

" by the way where's mei mei? " You asked drinking the beer

" she said she had better things to do,which was making more money " nanami answered your question

"Thats typical mei mei " you sigh. The doors opened and the waiter brings your favorite dish.

" woah that looks good " gojo said looking at at the dish wishing he also order one for himself , you grab the chopsticks bring the food to your mouth.

" it really is! " you eat some more, puffing out some steam as it was to hot .

" gojo don't steal y/n's food! "Utahime yells at gojo who is slowly picking up some of your food to his mouth.

" you could have order some if you wanted it " shoko said looking at the blindfold man

Gojo just pouted " I didn't know it would look so tasty, if I knew I would have order it in a heartbeat "

" I don't mind sharing " you push your plate of food towards him so you two can share

" your the best! " utahime just groaned at the white head man

" you know what would make this a fun night? more Sake ! " gojo clapped his hands above his head

" you can't even drink " nanami said flatly

" your the worst drinker out of all of us " shoko continue making utahime snicker

" don't worry ! Ichiji would drive us home right? " Gojo looked at the man with glasses .

" y-yea ...sure " he sigh

" don't bring ichiji into this gojo. " utahime called out, you just chuckled

" it's not like your paying. I'm the one paying here " since it was gojo idea to have dinner after the baseball game and the only way they would agree going out to eat , was gojo paying for the meal they are having.

" yea I need 6 beers , 2 bottles of wine and 4 bottles of sake. The most expensive one " Shoko ordered

" don't go over board because I'm paying! " gojo wined at shoko . He had it coming

" wait and some soda " you told the waiter which he just nodded

" damn you guys never drink that much last time " gojo said looking at his coworkers. Who just robbed him about a few hundred thousand yens.

" like you said.it's because you're paying " nanami said drinking

Two hours just passed as gojo is drunk. Like really really dunk. Nanami and shoko is still sober after drinking a lot , ichiji still fully sober as he is responsible of driving them home as for utahime she passed out after drinking too much beer and headache from gojo

" y/n~ * hicks * youre so pretty " gojo giggles like a girls while pocking your left cheek

" damn this is a new record." shoko said looking at gojo who's clinging at you

" he just hand a one beer " ichiji deadpaned looking at you while you try to get gojo away from you which just made him cling to you more.

" I think it's time I get home " you said , nanami looked at his watch reading the time " its 11.59 pm. I'm also going to head out soon "

" ichiji can you drive utahime back?" You asked which he just nodded. You looked at nanami and shoko " im guessing you guys can take care of yourself? "

" what about gojo? " ichiji looked at the drunken man kneeling next to you while casually resting his head on your lap mumbling some nonsense

" don't worry, I'll take him home " you smiled at him , playing with his soft fluffy hair.

" NoOoO....I d-don't wan-a Go HoMe ~ " gojo wines

" just bring the bill tomorrow " you said to the group. Gojo was to drunk to pay with his black card probably also forgot his pin.

" come on let's go, I'll take you home, satoru " you gently push him off you, in which he just started acting like a baby. Laying on the floor kicking his leg " I don't wanna go home just yet! "

" easy...there " you open the door to your apartment. One arm around your shoulder as you dragged him in.

You don't know how you manage to get him out of that restaurant and into your apartment. You planned on dropping him off at his apartment but he the kept on complaining how he doesn't wanna be alone. So you didn't really have a choice but let him stay at your place for the night

" you're alw-ays so sw-eeet ~" you get him on his feet which he can surprisingly stand.

" your cute, beautiful , hot and sexy~" he keeps on complimenting you. You push him to your living room

" why can't you take the hint " with a final push from you he plupps on the sofa face down

" what hint?" You tilted your head , looking at gojo

" see ...that what I mean you never noticed me.... Your so mean mean y/n. " you just laughed at his drunken state.

" I always like you y/n... I always have been ... For a long time now... But you just ignore my attempt of 'courting you' as me ' being nice to you' "

In all honesty you knew gojo like you and you also like him back. But he hadn't confessed yet so thats why you stayed silent. Would it be much easier if you confessed first? Yes , hell you guys would be a couple along time ago. But you just waited for him to confess first just because you wanted to

" I know you like me and I like you too " you admit which causes him to freeze and sober up a little but not fully.

" what did you say? " he ask looking at you through his blindfold

"Hm? I didn't say anything. You must be hearing things " you tease and walk to grab some water

" I clearly heard you say something " waving his arm up and down as he points at you , his other hand slowly removing his blindfold

" oh? What did say?"

" you said that you ....l-like m-me ...ba-ck..." He whispered the last part , lowering his hand as his face was turning red

" did I really say that?" You put your finger on your chin as if your thinking, You couldnt help but tease him some more .

He just stood there silently face still red while hugging your pillow from the sofa, deep in thoughts as if he really just made you up saying you like him back , you couldn't help but think how cute he look and made your way towards him.

Your hand on top of his broad shoulders making him to look up at you, ocean blue eye met yours. God you look so beautiful he thinks .

His eyes widened as you peck him on the lips.

" does this confirm your thoughts satoru? " you smile at him

" Y-yess... c-can I have another kiss tho? " He hugs the pillow tighter and blushes harder

[hiddenzev]

Take A Shot : Chapter 1 [ Kick Off ]

Pairing: Joel Miller x soccer player f!reader

Chapter Summary: You return to your hometown where your history with Joel started.

Chapter Warnings --- no beta, fluff, light angst, Idiots in Love, childhood friends

WC: 7.7k

series masterlist, AO3

A/N: Finally another fic is out! I've been busyyy and I know this is not going to be a consistent updating as my previous fic but I will try my best because this was more fun to write. Also, my favourite football (soccer) team is not performing well since a few weeks ago and it's been depressing yall...im not okay...fuckkk Hope yall enjoy this one even tho yall may not be soccer fans.

— May 2024 —

"Dad! Let's go!" 

9-year-old Sarah stood by the truck, waiting for her dad to get out of the house. She tapped her foot restlessly, annoyed that Joel was taking longer than expected to get ready to go. She was excited to watch her favourite soccer team, Austin Violet Football Club, play the first game of the new season. She was dressed in the home jersey and shorts, pairing them with the team's scarf around her neck, hair styled as space buns with the help of Joel. The club director invited her to watch the game after signing a 2-year contract for the Austin Violet Football Academy—a part of the Austin Violet FC consisting of both men and women. 

Sarah was an aspiring soccer player. She fell in love with the game at 6, when her great-grandmother played it on TV while she was babysitting her. Since then, she had been going on and on about soccer, and Joel signed her up for a youth soccer club nearby that honed her soccer skills to be selected for Austin Violet Football Academy. It was the most ecstatic she had ever felt in her 9 years of a lifetime when Joel told her that she was selected to join the youth academy. Nothing could compare to the endearment in his heart when he witnessed Sarah explode with joy. 

"The game ain't going nowhere, baby girl. We still got time." Joel said over his shoulder as he locked the door. 

Sarah groaned loudly, exasperated, seeing her dad taking the whole time in the world as if he were doing it intentionally. Her shoulders slumped forward, the AVFC scarf around her neck swaying slightly at both ends to her movement. With keys dangling in his hand, he opened the passenger door for Sarah, and she side-eyed him before climbing into her seat, complaining under her breath. Joel sighed heavily, having to deal with her daughter's attitude again. 

-----

The Violet Crown Football Stadium was almost packed with thousands of supporters from the home and away teams. Everyone was hyped with the anticipation of the first game, chanting endlessly, as loud as they could. The setting sun painted the field orange mixed with the green grass, blanketing it with warmth. The smell of summer is swaying to the beat of the surrounding air. Sarah looked around in awe, watching the fans around her cheering for the team. She could not help the smile appearing on her face as she immersed herself in the moment. 

They were seated in the suites section, which was where other VIPs, players not in the squad, players' family members, or other relevant individuals were seated. The suites were at the middle level, where the game could be clearly viewed. While Sarah was busy scanning everything around her, Joel was on his phone, talking to Tommy about work.

Even though Joel was supportive of her passion for soccer, he did not take the time to be fully invested in AVFC. He knew the rules of the game and only of her favourite player at the time, Kiara King, the striker for Austin Violet women's team. He supported the team in his own way. Without Sarah's love for soccer, he would not have watched soccer but be indulged in baseball instead. There were underlying emotions and memories stuck deep inside him that he did not want to resurface again whenever soccer came to mind.

"Enough about work; Sarah must be real excited about the game," Tommy said.

"Tell me about it," Joel sighed. "She was rushing me until we got in the stadium today." 

Joel turned his head to look at Sarah, whose eyes were sparkling with admiration as she watched the players walk out of the tunnel. The whole stadium roared with claps and howling cheers. It was getting harder to hear Tommy through the phone, with the loud noises filling the stadium. 

"I know you don't follow the team that much but they signed a new player at the end of the summer break," Tommy updated him with the news.

"Oh, really?" Joel said in a disinterested voice as he looked down on the field. Due to the distance, he could not see the players' faces.

The display screen started to show each player of the home team while the announcer introduced them one by one, starting with the goalkeeper and slowly progressing to the attackers. The stadium erupted with cheers for each of the players that had been introduced.

"You won't believe who their new signing is," Tommy's voice sounded distorted in Joel's ear.

"I'll call you back later! I cannot hear you right now! The game is starting already. Bye!" Joel shouted into his phone before ending the call without waiting for Tommy's response.

Sarah stood in her seat, jumping up and down, shouting excitedly with the rest of the supporters while Joel stared at her lovingly. The announcer started to announce the midfielders and the name he had long forgotten blasted through the stadium speakers, catching his attention back to the screen and confirming his doubts. 

There you were, waving to the crowd that welcomed you with big arms and a smile on your face. The smile that played a significant role in his childhood was now back in town. He was confused with the longing he did not expect to feel as he looked at you, guilt on his face. Suddenly, the noises around the stadium died down—muffled in his ears—the long lost memories with you that he continuously tried to lock away flooded his head. He could not erase the image of you, eyes brimming with tears as you turned to leave him 12 years ago. Out of his life. Now, you were back to haunt him.

"Dad! Look! She's wearing my number!" Sarah shook him out of his thoughts, pointing at your jersey number—20–the same as her birthdate. 

What kind of a sick game is the universe playing with him, seeing the coincidence of you wearing Sarah's favourite number on your back.

-----

23 years ago, your family moved from Dallas to Austin due to your father's job, and moving into a new home brought you a lot of emotions. You were excited to live somewhere new but also sad to be unable to be with your friends anymore.

It was the first day of school. You were sitting at your table, waiting for someone to sit beside you as your table partner. The kids in the class looked wary as they came in, not knowing what to expect for the first day. A few kids had reddish eyes because they were crying and were not emotionally ready for 1st grade. You were not one of them. 

Your father had already trained you to be tough from the get-go. He was teaching you soccer right when you started learning to walk. Little did you know, he did it to live his dream through yours. He was the definition of tough love. He did not go easy on you during his home training. Sometimes, losing his patience, hurling insults and hitting you, but you took everything like a champ because if not, the anger in him would be thrown toward your mom. 

Growing up, you witnessed the treatment that your mom got from him. You got in between them most of the time, wrapping your body around your mom to protect her, but what can a small and frail kid like you could do compared to the tall and big figure of your father? 

"Hi! I'm Joel. What's your name?"

A voice beside you brought your mind back to the classroom. You turned your head to find a boy with a smile that could light the whole classroom brighter than it already was. His hand is out towards you, expecting a handshake.

"Hi, Joel." You replied, taking his hand as you gave him your name.

"That's a pretty name," he said, his dimples on display as he smiled, which rendered you speechless. Your heart stopped for a beat at that moment, and it felt very strange because it was the first time you had felt that way, especially by a boy. 

"Thank you." You thanked him with a shy smile sent his way. 

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. He followed you everywhere you went, and you did not mind him at all, enjoying his company. He talked to you about everything, be it his favourite TV show, his favourite animal, or even his embarrassing moments. He was not afraid to tell you about his grandma, who was taking care of him and his baby brother once his mom left after their dad's death the previous year.

You saw his forlorn eyes as he told you the story. You empathised with the amount of hurt in his voice as you listened. In return, you confided in him about your parents. About how strict your father was towards you and how it pained you to see your mother's suffering, not being able to stand up for herself. 

You were surprised when he pressed himself against you, arms circling your body. He was hugging you, and you learned that it was his way of comforting not just you but himself as well.

The two of you bonded through the traumas and the amount of time you spent together during and after school. Although, most days after school, you couldn't play with him and the other neighbourhood kids due to your father's intense training sessions, he always filled you in on the things you missed. He always welcomed you like no other kid does. He did not judge you because of the circumstances that you were living in. 

Even though he lived at the other end of the street, he would cycle past your house just to see how your training was going in your front yard. Your father had noticed him cycling past a couple of times, but he did not say a word; he only sent his hardened glares towards Joel, which the brave 7-year-old did not cower away from.

There were times when you got distracted by Joel, which resulted in you receiving harsh punishments for not focusing on your training. Tears formed in your eyes from the pain in your body whilst you carried on with the punishments, but that didn't stop you from secretly waving at Joel as he passed by, smiling at you. 

On days without training, you joined Joel and the other kids cycling and exploring the neighbourhood. Not afraid to get dirty, you found yourself rolling around in the grass field as you looked at the boys who were playing fights or flying kites. Joel never left your side—always making sure you were taken care of, not wanting you to get in trouble with your father if you got injured while messing around. 

Sometimes, he can be too much about the little things—constantly wiping dirt off your face and other parts of your body as if you are not used to it, trying to carry you when you were perfectly fine with walking, or even worse, covering your ears whenever the boys said a bad word which didn't even come close to what you have already heard from your father. You were an independent kid, so you were annoyed when Joel started to treat you like a baby, but you didn't call him out on it, knowing that was just his big brother instincts. 

You shared everything about school with your mom whenever you reached home. It was the only time you could comfortably talk with her without Dad's presence in the house. She would coo when you told her about the things Joel did for you, finding it sweet that there's a kind boy out there taking care of you. You complained to her about how Joel was treating you like a baby, thinking she would take your side, but you found her laughing softly at your annoyance. 

"I like Joel. He sounds like a good friend, " your mom said softly, caressing your head.

"He is." You nodded your head, looking at her with your big round eyes.

"I'm happy you found a good friend, bubba." She kisses the crown of your head, lips lingering there for a while.

"He found me first, mama." You innocently corrected her, and she just smiled to herself, hugging you tight.

-----

— June 2024 —

Players were lined up in the tunnel, getting ready to get out to the field for the match. According to the positions you play, you were standing in the middle of your team's line, shaking your limbs to rid the nerves away. Each player was allocated a child mascot to walk to the field. There was a girl around the height of your chest, standing beside you. You noticed her staring at you with admiration in her big, round eyes. You instinctively smiled as you bent down to meet her eyes. 

"Hi! What's your name?" you asked her in a higher-pitched voice, similar to that you used when talking to kids. 

"Sarah," She meekly replied with a bashful smile, still maintaining eye contact with you.

Her smile reminded you of someone, but you could not put a face on it. You ignored the thoughts of her looking familiar to you for some reason.

"Is this your first time being a mascot?" 

"Yes," Biting her lip out of being scared. 

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? You got me." You reassured her, seeing how nervous she looked. 

She nodded her head slowly, trusting you with your words.

"I like your hair, Sarah. It's pretty." Pointing at her space buns as you compliment her, trying to distract her from her overwhelming feelings. 

"Thank you. My dad helped me with it." Her eyes widened. She tilted her head towards you to show the work of art her father had created. 

"Your dad?! Wow! He did a pretty good job." Your smile grew wider, and you adored how she was bragging about it. 

The image of your father crept up in your mind. You cannot help but compare your father to hers. From just hearing that Sarah's father did her hair, you knew that he must be a wonderful dad to her. He definitely adores her so much, even to master the hairstyles for his daughter. 

Meanwhile, your father was still psychologically and emotionally abusing you at 30. You were glad to be able to make it to pro, leaving the house, away from his grasp. He will call you after every game—whether your team loses or wins—he will criticise your mistakes. Not once has he said that he was happy and proud of you despite your achievements. After some time, you don't even expect or want to hear that from him. There were times you purposefully ignored his calls, but a few hours later, your mom would be calling as she sobbed, begging you to just listen to what he had to say. 

After you left Austin at 18, you told your mom that you would do whatever it took to let her be free from your father. However, she insisted that she loved him too much and could not bear to leave him alone, knowing he would suffer from the fallout. You get that he is the love of her life, but it hurts so much to see the relationship infested with so much toxicity that she thinks it's better to hold on to it instead of letting go. 

"Does your dad do your hair, too?" Sarah pointed at your hair, which you had braided.

"No, I did it myself. Is it nice?" You let her touch your hair as you answered her.

"It's so beautiful!" She adoringly exclaimed.

"Aw, thank you!" 

You heard the shuffling of the players at the front of the line, starting to move out of the tunnel. 

You held out your hand for Sarah to take. "Are you ready to make your dad proud?" You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

She nodded her head vigorously, moving along by your side. The cheering slowly got louder as you walked out, and when you finally stepped into the field, you felt Sarah's hand gripping you tighter. You placed your other hand on hers, caging her hand between both of yours to let her know that you were there with her. You know it's not easy for a kid to walk out to a full stadium that is overwhelming with shouting and cheering. 

Eventually, everyone was lined up perfectly, side by side, facing the cameras. The children were standing in front of the players, and you placed your hands on Sarah's shoulders, ensuring she was okay. You noticed her looking up towards the suites section when you followed her gaze. She was probably looking at her father, you thought. However, there were so many faces everywhere that you could not search for and focus on just one person. Hell, you did not even know what her father looked like. 

After shaking hands with the opponent team, Sarah and the other kids had to return to the tunnel. Before she went off, she turned to hug you.

"Thank you!" she said while her cheek was pressed in your chest. Her eyes closed as she embraced the moment. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, swaying her from side to side. 

"Well, aren't you our lucky charm? Just watch because we're gonna win this game for sure."

She grinned from ear to ear, slowly letting go of you. Ugh, it's annoying that she looked so much like someone you know, but you don't know who exactly it was. 

"See you around, you lil angel" You pinched her cheeks before returning to your starting position.

Sarah must have been your lucky charm because your team won that game. Since then, she has always been in your mind whenever you stand in the tunnel before a game. She had quite an impact on you. You never figured out why she looked familiar to you until the day you met her again.

-----

Joel and Sarah were walking hand in hand through the hospital corridor, the unmistakable sterile scent present in the space weighing heavily on their shoulders. The floor was quieter than usual—visiting hours were finishing in a few hours. Sarah was still in her soccer fit from earlier training while her bag was swaying along on Joel's shoulder. Trudging into the wardroom at the end of the hall, Joel let go of Sarah's hand, who ran inside as soon as she saw her great grandma, Nana.

"Nana!" She shouted, rushing towards the bed. 

"Look who it is! My bunny!" Nana excitedly opened her arms, waiting for Sarah's hug.

They stayed embracing each other for a period of time—Sarah pressed her cheek on Nana's shoulder while Nana slowly stroked the back of Sarah's head. Joel witnessed the moment that had been a usual occurrence for him recently.

The first time when he got the call from Tommy on the day Nana was admitted to the hospital, he had almost forgotten how to breathe. His stomach plummeted to the ground-hearing the trembling in Tommy's voice saying Nana could have died if he had been late to come back home from work. He did not know how he got to the hospital with Sarah when his head was clouded with worry. He carried Sarah on his back when they got out of the car and went inside as fast as possible.

It was as if someone had ripped his heart out and left him to bleed out alone when his gaze landed on Nana's lying form on the bed with tubes sticking to her body. Nana was his grandma who literally raised both of the Miller brothers—single-handedly—after her daughter left them in her care. So, to see the person who was very dear to him go through something that horrible—heart failure—altered something deep in him for a while. 

It had been a week since she was admitted, and Joel was still processing that. This was the second time she had to go to the hospital because her condition seemed to worsen over time. He knew he had to prepare for the worst scenario sooner or later, but he was still in denial about it all—he didn't want to let go of his constant. In a way, he didn't want to face his abandonment issues from the women in his life—his mom, you and Talia.

"How are you, Nana?" 

"Never been better." Nana gave Sarah a cheeky wink.

"I saw you on TV yesterday. I'm so proud of you, bunny." Nana leaned in to kiss Sarah on the crown of her head. 

"Did you see her? She was standing with me." Sarah was elated to share her experience as a child mascot with you.

"I did! Did you talk to her?" Nana asked.

"She was so nice, Nana. I like her. I think she's my favourite player now." Sarah's eyes were dreamy as she gushed about you to her great-grandma.

"C'mon now, you change your favourite player every month." Nana's voice was flat as she rolled her eyes jokingly at Sarah

"No I don't," Sarah argued, lying through her teeth. Nana was speaking the truth. Sarah changed her favourite player almost every month according to her mood, but this time it was different. To be physically in the presence of the team and the good impression that you made on her struck a chord in her to choose you as her number one player no matter what.

"Whatever you say, bunny." 

Joel was already sitting beside the bed, listening to his daughter talk about his childhood best friend. For the past 12 years, he had reflected on what had happened throughout high school. It was a terrible experience for him when he looked back on it—chasing popularity, peer pressure, toxic masculinity, and, for the worst part, leaving you alone in your misery when you needed him the most. His apology was long overdue, and he thought he had already lost the chance to speak to you until you returned.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Nana lowered her voice, which made Sarah lean in slightly, curious about the secret. "I've met her as a kid before." This fact made Sarah part her lips in shock, and her eyebrows shot up fast to her forehead. 

"Really?" Sarah's voice was barely louder than a whisper while she stared at Nana.

"Nana—"Joel spoke for the first time to interrupt Nana. He was slightly afraid to let his past and current life crash, not knowing how to handle it if it came to light. 

"She is a friend of your father." Nana ignored his warning and continued to tell Sarah the facts about the past.

"She is? You didn't tell me."  Sarah swiftly turned around to Joel, furrowing her brows, feeling slightly betrayed that her father had known you personally all this while and kept it a secret. 

Joel gave Nana an annoyed look, disappointed that she told Sarah about his connection with you. His jaw tensed before he opened his mouth to explain himself.

"That was a long time ago. We are not friends anymore." That was the best he could say, and he could tell from Nana's expression that she was disappointed in him as she recalled the time she had heard what had happened to you. 

"What happened?" Sarah questioned him, paying full attention to him, hearing the story for the first time.

"She left Austin to play professional soccer, and we didn't talk anymore." He shrugged his shoulders as he explained to Sarah in the simplest terms. If it was laid out on the table, the truth was that he fucked up. He did not want Sarah to know that because he wouldn't be able to handle his daughter's disappointment in him. 

"Was she a nice person back then, too?" Her big round eyes were still lit with curiosity as she learned new facts about her favourite player.

Joel reminisced about the time he spent knowing you with a longing look in his face. His eyes looked out the window by the bed, absentmindedly, as your face came into his mind, hitting him with all kinds of emotions. Your petite hands were in his as the two of you walked together after school, the soft glow on your face from the warm sunlight and your hair flowing tenderly with the breeze. 

"She was," he whispered. A slight curl on one side of his mouth appeared that was not unnoticed by Nana. She had been holding on to the hope that the both of you would make amends someday, and it warmed her heart that the time had finally come closer for it. She missed you a lot. You were like her granddaughter that she never had, not like her mischievous grandsons that gave her headaches. You brought a different kind of joy to her life, and when you told her that you had to leave, both of you were crying in each other's arms. She knew she did not have much time left in this world, and she hoped it wouldn’t be too late to see you again.

-----

— July 2024 —

"You know the drill, right? Just interact with the kids. Watch how they play, give them some advice, and remember to smile. The cameras will follow you around during the shoot." The team's social media manager, Emma, briefed you again as you came into the facility centre to prepare yourself for the shoot.

Filming with kids has always been your favourite. It allows you to stay in touch with your roots and serves as a reminder that there are kids who look up to you, so you have to always set a good example for them. 

"I heard that their parents are here too?" You looked at Emma for confirmation.

"Yes. They are sitting in the stands. It will be a surprise appearance for them as well. After the filming, you will take pictures with the players and their families. Got it?"

"Okay, got it."

You got mic'd up while the filming crew settled everything else. Once they were set, you moved quietly to the training field where the young academy players were having a small match amongst themselves. It stroked a sense of nostalgia in you, seeing them running and kicking with their little limbs. Your heart warmed with the memories of you being in a young girl's team, dreaming of being a soccer star.

You heard some murmuring when you walked past the stands where the parents were, but your focus was fixed on the young players. Walking faster as you neared the sideline, one of the girls spotted you and squealed, causing them to stop their actions. 

You continued walking towards where the coaches were standing, trying to hide the excitement on your face.

Some of them gasped, covering their mouths, not believing that the first team player had come to watch them. 

"Come on, girls! Keep playing!" You clapped your hands, signalling to them to continue playing. 

They looked at each other with smiles still stuck on their faces as they slowly moved their bodies again.

You shook hands with the academy team coaches and manager, who were also glad to see you. They talked to you about the players and the drills they went through, so you got the gist of how they ran things. You did a quick scan of all the players, and one of them stood up to you. That player was Sarah. It had been a few weeks since you met her, and you thought about her more than you know. You were enamoured by her innocence that you don't experience in your daily adult life. Wearing the same hairstyle, the blurry mystery face you cannot put together to match her face appeared in your head. 

Sarah was playing as the right winger. You were impressed with her movements, especially for someone that young. Both of her feet were well balanced; one leg was not significantly stronger than the other, which meant that she had more of an advantage in her dribbling skills. Her focus on the ball once she got the ball controlled was unwavering, and she was not afraid to take her chances at shooting. You saw the massive potential of a player in her and hoped to see her grow as time went by.

As the game continued, you tried your best to watch the other girls, but your eyes followed Sarah. Compared to the rest, she was significantly versatile—being able to defend as well as her attacking skills. Unbeknownst to you, she was slowly gaining your heart even though you had only met her once.

After the game ended, the girls sat together for debriefing; exhaustion was evident on their faces flushed, strands of hair sticking to their sweaty faces, and eyes fixed on the grass below them. The team's manager and coaches said a few words before letting you take the stage. When it was your turn, the girls turned their heads to you as if they forgot you were there momentarily. Having their full attention, you started talking.

"What do y'all feel about the game?" You asked them. 

"Bad." One of the players in the front spoke up, and you later found out that her name was Ellie. 

"Why do you feel that way?" You raised an eyebrow at her, not expecting the quick acknowledgement of your question. 

"Because Sarah overtook me a few times, and that means I sucked at defending today." Her eyebrows furrowed as she explained—displeased with her own mistakes. 

"We all make mistakes sometimes; of course, we feel disappointed when they happen. Even a professional player—like me—makes them. But the mistake is what make us strive to be better. We reflect on it and improve from there." You explained to all of them.

 "And the fact that you are aware of your own mistakes tells me that you are one step closer to being a better player than you were before." You smiled reassuringly to Ellie, liking her boldness in speaking her mind. 

It's ironic that when you were around their age, you were very critical of your own performance—beating yourself up over something so small because you knew your father would never let it go. You never come around to look at things positively until you meet the other professional players—who became your good friends—during your career. 

"Now, tell me what you did good in the game?" You squatted down to be at the same eye level as Ellie. 

Ellie opened her mouth but closed it instantly, unable to think of an answer. Her eyes darting around, away from making eye contact with you. 

"You've had a couple of good long passes to the forwards, and your tackling form is pretty great,"

"Really?" She said softly—not believing what you said. 

"Absolutely! Why would I lie?" Cocking your head to the side, with one brow raised. 

Her cheeks raised slightly, tugging the corners of her mouth into a small smile that she tried to hide from you. 

You spent another 20 minutes answering the girls' questions—how you first started soccer, how you recovered from your bad injury, and even what boots you wore for your games. You took a group photo together before they dispersed to their parents, waiting for you to take pictures with each family. 

You were already halfway done with the team when you spotted Sarah among those in the queue, and you noticed two men standing by her, but it was a quick glance before you were able to take a long look at their faces. The line of players you were taking photos with kept moving slowly as you took your time to get to know each of them properly. 

Once you said goodbye to one of the girls, you saw a small figure rushing towards you in the corner of your eyes. As soon as you turned back around, you felt a pair of arms encasing your waist. You looked down and recognised the same space buns that Sarah had when she was one of the child mascots. She looked up at you, chin resting on your stomach while she portrayed a big grin. You cannot help the adoration that came into view on your face while you hugged her back. 

"Hi, lil angel!" 

"You remember me!" She looked with a mix of surprise and joy on her face.

"How could I forget our lucky charm with this pretty face?" Sarah stared at you with her big, round eyes sparkling with so much admiration that you almost felt guilty for being the subject of that look.

Her grip on you loosened when she turned around, gesturing for-you assumed-her family members to come closer.

"Come and say hi!" She moved away from you to let the two men near you.

Maybe it's the athlete in you that made your eyes move towards their physique first. You noticed they were both almost the same height, taller than you by a couple of inches. Their toned muscles, which were on display for you, seemed to be earned from hard labour instead of the gym. Catching you, scanning their bodies, one of them cleared their throat, making you shift your focus towards him. 

He looked way younger than you—clean-shaven with curly, medium-length hair, passing his ears. You sensed that he had an easygoing and friendly demeanour when he introduced himself.

"Hey, how r' ya?" He sounded nervous but still was able to confidently reach out to shake your hand, with an unexplainable look on his face. 

You returned the handshake with, "Hi, nice to meet you." You cocked your head slightly to the side, sensing the weird awkwardness coming from him. 

You pulled back and looked at him for a moment before glancing at the other man who was standing beside him. You had to do a double take when your gaze landed on that man for a few seconds longer. Your heart suddenly picked up its speed from the recognition. Unexpectedly, a face vaguely reminiscent of your time back in Austin was here. 

Joel fucking Miller—the reason for your happiness in Austin, but he was also the one that injected bitterness in your heart in the last few years in it. 

His face was different than the one you tried to erase 12 years ago, to no avail; you didn't succeed. Time clearly had worn out his face a little bit—the clean-shaven face back then had been filled with scruffy facial hair, creases on the forehead, and noticeable crow's feet by his eyes. Even so, it only enhanced his features to be more attractive than he already was before. 

Joel could not maintain eye contact with you like he used to. You noticed his tensed jaw and darting eyes towards everywhere else except you. He seemed like he wanted to hide in a hole somewhere. Seeing him not in the slightest bit happy to see you again stung you a little. You could not blame him for how he was acting, knowing how bad things were left between you. 

You had long moved past it after going to therapy. As time went by, you saw things from a different perspective, in a more mature way, to understand his position at the time. You took the fact that you won't see him again and did your own healing by trying to forgive him for his immaturity back in the day on your own terms since you were not able to talk openly with him.

Now, he was standing before you, and somehow, you felt relieved to see him after all those years.  

"Do you recognise me?" The younger man asked you, giving an expectant smile as he waited for you.

You turned your head back to him, still speechless from seeing Joel. He could only be that one person. 

"Tommy?" You asked with one brow raised at him.

"Oh! I thought you wouldn't remember my name!" His jaw dropped, and he slowly crept up to a broad smile, a result of the fact that you remembered his name. His hands were rested on his chest from the shock.

"Of course, I remember you. It just took me awhile to recognise you because you look different," you looked at him up and down. "Look at you! You're taller than me now." You gestured at him with your palms opened, waving your hands over his grown body.

"More handsome now, am I right?" He struck a pose, hands bending upwards to point at himself with both thumbs. He sneaked a wink at you, making you jog down memory lane, remembering how his brother winked at you during your younger days. 

You huffed a laugh at his boldness, "I see that you never change." You smirked at Tommy, who had just shrugged his shoulders at your remark.

Your ears perked up when you heard Sarah giggling as she watched your interaction with Tommy. For a moment, you had totally forgotten where and what you were doing while talking with Tommy. You glanced at Sarah briefly before looking at Tommy again.

"She's your daughter?" You asked Tommy.

"Ew, no." Sarah scrunched her face in a disgusted way at Tommy. Tommy rolled his eyes at Sarah; you could tell they had a slight sibling-like relationship. From the realisation of their age, you knew that Sarah could not have been Tommy's daughter. 

"This is my dad!" She told you proudly as she slid her hand into Joel's. 

Your eyes slowly moved up to see Joel staring at you with an unreadable gaze. You used to be able to tell what he was thinking just by looking at him, but the time apart had faded your ability to do so. 

You did not know that he had a daughter. You wouldn't have known because you had cut off contact with him and the people who had wronged you after you left. After a few years, when you had moved on with the past, you were tempted to know how he was doing, but you did not bother to do anything about it, afraid of what feelings might come to the surface.

You wondered who Sarah's mom was, and guessing her age, you assumed that Talia might have been the one. Talia was the cause of your nightmare in high school. Thinking about what she did always made your blood simmer with hatred. You could forgive Joel, but Talia was that mean bitch that would take you so much longer to make peace with. With Sarah coming around, you assumed that Joel must have made her his wife, and it almost made the food that was processed in your stomach come back up your throat.

"I-I didn't know that," you tried to hide your surprise but the way your voice strained at the start was obvious to anyone. Your eyes went back and forth between him and Sarah. Finally, you could see the unmistakable similarities between them as they stood side by side. 

You squatted down in front of Sarah, gazing up at her with newfound adoration. "So you're a Miller, huh?" A soft smile on your face as you stated the information that you had just learned.

"Sarah Miller," she nodded her head.

"Well, I should have asked for your last name. You looked so familiar when I saw you that time," you tilted your head as you slowly traced her face with your eyes.

"I did?" She looked up at Joel for a few seconds, and you followed her gaze. Joel was standing still, eyes darting between you and Sarah. 

"I'm way prettier, though." She blurted out after turning back to you.

You involuntarily snorted, hearing her comparison with Joel. "Of course you are," you beamed at her confidence which she definitely did not inherit from her dad, "but you both have the same distracting smile." 

"What does that mean?" She furrowed her brows.

"It means that you have a beautiful smile, just like your dad when he was your age." You gently poked her cheeks with your index fingers, which made her smile.

Both of you were smiling to each other when Emma reminded you to quickly take the pictures. You stood up and held your hand out at Sarah, who gladly took it to follow you, standing in front of the camera.

"Okay, what serious pose do you wanna do?" 

Sarah crossed her arms without hesitation and puffed out her chest as best she could. She lifted her chin up, pursing her lips with knitted brows to seem fierce. You smirked at her actions, finding her adorable, before striking the same pose beside her. 

The second one was a fun pose. She had you piggyback her, and the two of you were laughing as the photographer caught the moment. Your eyes flicked at Joel and Tommy, who were looking on behind the photographer. Joel was staring at you with a forlorn look, which you did not miss before he tensed up when he caught you looking at him. 

"Good. Now, with the family." The photographer said, turning to Joel and Tommy.

The Miller brothers stepped forward to stand beside you, one on each side. Sarah was standing in front of you with your hands on her shoulders. Your heart started to beat faster as Joel came near you. He put a certain distance between you both when he stood beside you. 

"Closer, please." The photographer gestured with one hand at Joel and ordered him to stand closer towards you. 

Joel reluctantly took a step closer, which resulted in his arm brushing against yours. That made you stand still as you felt tingles running up your arms to your neck. Sarah turned her head slightly from the instinctive tightening grip of your hands on her shoulders. You relaxed your hands in a flash when you realised that you could have hurt her. 

"One, two, three!" The photographer raised his voice slightly, and you heard the camera clicking away. He stopped and lowered the camera, not satisfied with your expression.

"You gotta smile," He portrayed his own smile, looking at you and Joel. 

You turned your head to glance at Joel, and you saw him looking at you from the corner of his eyes when he noticed your movement. In an instant, you looked back at the front to see that the photographer was ready to continue taking photos. This time, you smiled without fail. 

Once it was done, Sarah turned around to say goodbye. You bent down slightly with open arms, and she gladly reached around you to snuggle against your chest. With warmth enveloping your heart, you closed your eyes and rested your chin on her head, taking in the sweet moment with her.

Tommy looked at both of you with eyes representing relief. He remembered you fondly because he regarded you as his older sister. You had come over to the house often to play with him and, oftentimes, look after him when Joel was not around. Unlike his older brother, you were gentle and kind to him. He was 11 when you left, and it broke his heart that his caring older sister was moving away. He blamed Joel for it for a while and showed resentment towards him. He heard rumours about what had happened from the kids in the neighbourhood who went to the same high school as you and Joel. He didn't know the truth of it all until he was grown enough to learn about the whole story from Joel.  

Tommy took a peek at Joel, who was standing beside you. He could tell that Joel had missed you too, even though he had not said it out loud for the past 12 years. He did not have to because with one look in his eyes, Tommy could feel his longing. He knew that his brother still felt guilty about what had happened, but all that he wanted was that the both of you could make up for it because he missed his family before the emotional hurricane happened. 

You cleared your throat from the awkwardness after Sarah held her dad's hand again.

"So, y'all heading straight home after this?" You tried to find the courage to look at Joel, who was already staring at you but failed to do so, finding comfort in Tommy instead.

"We're going to the hospital to visit Nana," Sarah blurted out which made you snapped your head towards her with a frown on your face.

"Sarah—"Joel quickly

"Nana is in the hospital?" Your voice was high-pitched when you took in the new information. You were still frowning when you shifted your gaze to Joel.

"You don't need to worry about it." Joel tried to dismiss it, but you were obviously not satisfied with his answer.

"What happened to Nana?" You took a step closer to him, which caused him to instinctively move a step away from you.

"Nothing." He avoided looking at you and gripped Sarah's hand tighter, pulling her away to escape. You stood there, watching him leave.

Tommy hesitated to move as he witnessed what had just happened. He touched the side of your arms to lessen your worry. Then, reaching into his pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to you.

"There's my number in there, so feel free to call anytime. You can ask me about anything, and I will try my best to answer it. I miss you, sis. It's great to see you again." Teary-eyed, Tommy opened his arms slightly, wanting to hug you after 12 long years.

You welcomed him by wrapping his neck with your arms, tip-toeing slightly from his height. His grip around you was tight as he swayed you from side to side. 

"I miss you too, baby boy," you whispered in his ears, tears lingering on the edge of your eyes.

"I'm not a baby," he argued with an annoyed tone, just like when he was younger, fighting that he was just a boy and not a baby.

"You're still a baby to me." You pulled back with a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to cry, while you looked at his 24-year-old face. 

Tommy let you go and returned to a mischievous look, "Call me, okay?" You nodded. "I'll see you around." He winked before jogging away to catch up with his brother and niece.   

next part

[onlydijah]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ BAD HABIT ❪ INTERLUDE ❫

𝜗𝜚 CATCH IT! — dislike to lovers, both are still in high school, no warnings i think

𝜗𝜚 WORDS FROM ME! — hi i wrote this at like 3 am so my apologies if its not good😭 idk if im gonna continue this but if i do i it’ll be a 4-parter!! plot was inspired by some book i read i lwk forgot the title (😓😓)

𓂃 ִֶָ𐀔 — word count, 1.3K

THE MOTONOUS BUZZING of the pasty white fluorescent lights vibrated throughout the sterile, lifeless room as an older, chubby man paced around the spacious area. “I don’t even know what our game plan is here ken. I… ugh.” he spoke, feebly.

The younger teenager shrunk deeper in his seat, reverting back to his signature manspread. He looked around unsteadily, praying he didn’t accidentally meet his coach’s disappointed eye and let out a laugh.

As the dull melody of clicking footsteps and clock chimes continued, a million and one thoughts swirled through each other’s heads. While one was more focused on what he would eat for dinner tonight, another grappled with the fact that his star baseball player was as good as gone.

“Do you have anything? anything to say for yourself?” The frustrated man exhaled as he plopped down on his worn office chair, the wheels scooting it back a little upon his impact. “13 violations is absolutely crazy young man, your mom ever tell you ‘if you dont have anything nice to say, hold your tongue?’ god, we’re lucky the committee let you off easy the other 12 times, but I fear they’ve realized the way you act out on the pitch far outweighs any positives your talent grants you.”

The implication of career ending consequences in his coach’s outburst made the boy stand straight in his seat, “Huh? waddyamean, I would say my teasing adds charm.”

“Right… right! How about we go through some of your charming encounters, shall we?” The elder kissed his teeth as his hands rustled their way through the stacks of papers on his desk.

“That actually isn’t necessary!” Kenji responded suddenly with a nervous chuckle and uncomfortable grin, lunging across the desk in an attempt to stop his coach from reading his rather… vulgar jibes.

“No no, I think it's very necessary actually,” his coach remarked, raising his hand high to prevent the boy from reaching his documents. The younger boy fell face flat on the desk, choosing to just lay his head there as the man in front of him listed off the many crude actions he had been reported for.

“Are you kidding me? What does his face shape have to do with you throwing a beanball at his head?!”

“Ummmm.. so it was throwing me off the whole game so i had to like— even out his proportions.. ya’know?” Kenji answered sparingly, contorting his fingers and emphasizing each word he responded with so as to get his point across. “That’s not a valid reason and you know that.” his coach rebutted, shaking his head with distaste.

He loosened his grip and the pamphlet dropped with a loud “thud”. Raking his hands through his graying, jet black hair he began, “Listen, I'm gonna try and find a way to get you out of this— but there's no guarantee they won't find a way to terminate your scholarship. Ill have an answer for you by tomorrow.”

“Ouff.” The younger male let out a heavy exhale. “That bad?” he cringed.

“That bad.”

The rest of that day was ruined for Ken as his only hope of starting a successful baseball career was entirely in his nimble-minded coach’s hands. Easy to guess he didn't have much faith in him.

He roamed aimlessly around the massive halls of his school, taking note of every detail that the scattered decor offered. The curve of the walls when he was about to enter the gym, how the lights dimmed when he got close to the designated faculty/staff areas, and the navy blue bean bags littered across the library that helped transform the original cold, uninviting room into a welcoming space for all.

He admired how many windows the academy had, leading beautiful, warm natural light to pour from literally everywhere. He found comfort and belonging in the school as he strode, the expectation of being kicked out heavy on his shoulders only strengthened his love for the establishment.

Eyes lightly stinging from unpoured tears caused him to clench his eyes and shake his head frantically— his soft locks swinging across his face before he pushed them back into their place.

“Hello? Kenj.”

“Huh? Oh. Hi [name].”

“What?” She shrugged apathetically. “I didn't mean to ruin your main character moment but I needed your half of the history assignment like— yesterday.” she deadpanned, moving her hands around frantically.

“That wasnt due until Thursday!” Kenji negated, turning towards the girl. The height difference was quite intimidating from an outside perspective, but nevertheless the girl continued to argue.

“Are you actually illiterate? Like is there anything up there?” she pointed to his skull. “PLEASE let me know because if not I will gladly sign you up for the reading comprehension classes my little cousin takes.” she scoffed aggressively, turning the lightweight ring she had on her finger excessively.

“I’m alright, thank you.” Kenji sassed, pulling out his phone to “check his syllabus”. A couple beats of silence passed before he pressed his lips into a thin line and smiled.

“Oh my god.”

“I'm not stupid. Here.” He spat as he opened his backpack and lightly shoved a manilla folder into the girl's chest. “You're so irritating, like— why get me worked up in the first place?!” she pushed him back lightly. “You're evil. I can’t even—“ she rambled, unconsciously letting Kenji push her into the direction of the cafeteria. “See, this is entertaining!” He gushed, opening the cafeteria door and letting go of the girls backpack. “Bye friend!” he cheesed, turning back around to look for his clique— wherever they were.

The cafeteria was bright and energetic today, students laughing and arguing supplied audio for the usually silent enclosure; the clicking and clacking of plates and trays held a soothing melody for the ears of everybody there to enjoy while they worked and ate.

“Ohhhmygod that's crazy. He can't just do that can he?” Nia murmured as students bustled by their table to meet their friends. “Its not his fault, i'm here on scholarship so technically the school can revoke it whenever they want.” Kenji clarified.

“That bites man, im sorry.” she sympathized, shoving 3 sticks of strawberry pocky in her mouth. “S’okay. Coach Hayashi will find a way out for me. He always has.” he tried to reason, arms cradling his pounding head.

Nia dropped her pocky and rolled her eyes. “Now you're just lying through your teeth.” she chuckled. “Whatever.” Ken huffed, grimacing as his headache got worse.

“OVER MY DEAD BODY.” The younger woman fussed, slamming the door. “Cmon, [name] its not such a bad thing!” her counselor eargly hooted, “You’ll only be doing it for a week— max. And… well, you dont really have much of a choice anyway.”

The student exaggeratedly flopped onto the cream colored bean bag, glancing back at the colorful walls of Mrs.Aoki’s room. “Theres nobody else up for it?” she sighed grabbing a multicolored throw pillow; hugging it close against her chest, “I’ll take literally anybody else.”

“Im afraid not.” her words echoed around the lively expanse, bouncing around the colorful furniture and across the motivational poster spreads on the walls. “Be grateful he’s even up for this. Listen— the only person who can strain this arrangement even more now is you. So if you want to ruin your chances of ever getting into a good university, go ahead.”

The veiled wisdom hidden between the statement of the older woman became loud and clear against the young girls ear. “Your right.” she conceded. “Ill be there tomorrow.”

“Thats the spirit!” Aoki rejoiced, offering her pupil a soft smile.

© @onlydijah on tumblr. DO NOT copy, translate, or claim any of my works as yours. thank you! 💘

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[ivystoryweaver]

im so interested in what u think the moon boys would be like as dads???

Ohhhhh, this is gonna hurt my heart. In a good way. I have a lot of feelings about Moon Dads and I've not yet written fics about it so yeah...

I'm gonna jump right in with Marc.

I think if Marc had a child, he would be all in: attentive, tender, affectionate.

I don't actually believe Marc would be afraid of parenting. I know that can be a popular hc/fic plot and I totally understand why, and love reading those.

But I think Marc would be one of those people that would try to do the opposite of what was done to him. Example: his parents were married and that went well... (sarcasm)

Yet Marc got married. He and Layla were together for years and, according to her, had "adventures together", meaning they worked as a (likely successful) team. Marc bailed on Layla once his mom passed and he could no longer control or hide his disassociations (plus Khonshu's threats for Layla to be his next avatar).

Point being: Marc did get married and seemed pretty successful at it, for the most part.

Marc is in charge of bath time. This includes little toy boats, fish that squirt water, bubbles. He's going to wash their hair, or whatever hair needs they have, depending on race and hair types. If it is a hair type he isn't as familiar with, he is going to be talking to his partner, looking up vids, whatever it takes. Touch is going to be so important to him. He is the dad who will know how to do french braids or styles for textured hair.

He's never going to react in anger. If he is angry, he's going to hand the reins to Steven or sometimes Jake (if he is able, it's obviously not a parlor trick), or he will just say to his little one, "Daddy is going to take a time out. I'll be back in a minute and we can have a talk." The idea of putting himself in time out is so endearing to his child that they end up calming from whatever misbehavior they were attempting, wanting to join him in the corner for time out, touching a plushie or reading a book in his lap.

They learn very young that their father's expressions can be stern but his hands are safe. They will not want to disappoint him.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Steven can converse naturally with children, this we see in the first episode. Steven's open, engaging nature is great for children. His own childlike wonder will shine in fatherhood. He was also able to quickly redirect the behavior of the girl who was littering at the museum. So a spunky child in a doctor's office waiting room will be easily wrangled by a distracting toy, quick game or wonderful story.

Steven is your go-to guy for bedtime stories. With a young child, Steven will share how wondrous the world around them is. He'll always have a anecdote or a fun fact for tweens or teens.

He will offer choices. "Do you want to put on 'jammies now or after a story?" "Do you want to help Dad set the table or feed the cat?" Steven has lacked agency in his life, so he is going to give it to his child. He will teach them to speak up for their needs.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake is going to be such a little shit as a dad. I'm sorry but there is no nicer way to say it lol. Jake's used to operating in the background and he's a night owl. He's the fun dad. He's the "don't tell mom" dad (or don't tell dad, dad). Kid wants stay up 15 extra minutes? It's Jake that's gonna sneak them some of the popcorn he popped after they were supposed to be asleep. As a partner, you'd find your little one on Jake's knee in the most comfy chair, watching the Yankees play baseball.

You give them The Look™ and they know they are busted. They exchange guilty glances and then Jake starts repeating words in Spanish. Baseball, Popcorn, very good! If you are already all Spanish speakers then Jake pretends to be practicing in both Spanish and English.

Either way, he and his little twin, with their adorable curls, give you shit eating grins.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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[dance-like-an-idiot]

i just realized that, besides the literal sense, the baseball game is an extended metaphor for whizzer and marvin's relationship

heres some lyrics that seem Very Different if you think about them detached from the physical game and more so the game of love:

SPECATORS: we're watching jewish boys, who cannot play baseball play–

MARVIN: i hate baseball i really do, unlike the rest of you, i hate baseball

CHARLOTTE AND CORDELIA: we really wish he'd take this more seriously!

MENDEL: it's weird how he swings the bat!

MARVIN: it's weird how he swings the bat. and why does he have to throw like that?

do you See It.

jewish boys who can't play the game (whizzvin), marvin hating the game unlike everyone else (the game is falling in love im pretty sure), the lesbians trying to get him invested, it's weird how he swings (romantically), and marvin being upset he (generally men i assume) throws (himself out there)

the last two are stretches But Not By Much !!!!

i wont go through the entire song but almost all of it (whizzer and marvins banter doesn't seem to be a part of the metaphor) can be connected back to playing the game

and may i add whizzer's batting advice is actually good advice for shooting your shot and in the obc marvin keeps "his eye on the ball" the whole time while asking whizzer out (cause everyone heard his advice)

more lines directly from the book this time (jason should be taken as whizzvin during this, assuming its because they're both childish and so is love):

theres too much in that screenshot to go over it all but its the dangers of getting into (their) love, whizzvin fumbling this chance, and eventually the "anythings possible" of marvin offering and whizzer accepting

also i never knew mendel catches it thats silly (i don't know what thats supposed to mean but it Means Something)

anyways william finn and james lapine why are you geniuses Why you are making me insane Why Why Why!!

[dancingdonatello]

HI ITS 🦆 ANON THE ONE WHO MADE AN AO3 CUZ OF YOU! AND YES I DID MEAN REQS I JUST CANT TYPE FOR SHIT 💀

I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO LIKE VILLIAN!TURTLES HEADCANONS?

LIKE DONNIE AND MIKEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN RAISED BY DRAXUM, AND DRAXUM NUTURED DONNIES LOVE FOR SCIENCE OR SMTH AND MIKEY MYSTIC POWERS WERE TRAINED BY DRAXUM TOO

AND MAYBE LEO WAS RAISED BY BIG MAMA

IDK ABOUT RAPH BUT YEAH!

BASICALLY THEY'RE RAISED TO HATE HUMANS, BUT THEN AFTER MEETING/ENCOUNTERING Y/N THEIR PERSPECTVIE CHANGES (ATLEAST ON THE READER)

MAYBE LIKE WRITE ABOUT THEIR VEIW ON THE READER, AND MAYBE THEY INVITE THE READER OVER TO THEIR HOME, OR MAYBE EVEN TELLING THEIR VILLAIN PAERNTS THEY LIKE A HUMAN, OR ALL 3!!!-

IM SORRY I JUST GET SO HYPED SEEING YOUR WORK AND I HAVENT REQUESTED ANYTHING IN A WHILE AND I JUST SAW ONE OF YOUR POSTS AND STIMMING AND KICKING MY FEET AND OVERALL JUST AKSJDHKJFHFKJH

ANYWAY THX FOR TAKING TIME TO READ THIS AND TYPE IT IF YOU DO! FEEL FREE TO PUT THIS ON PAUSE OR JUST DELETE IT

MAKE SURE TO DRINKS LOTS OF WATER, AND EAT! AND CHECK WHAT TIME IT IS, DONT WANNA FUCK UP UR SLEEP SCHEDULE ANYMORE THAN IT IS LMAO!!!

AND STRETCH YOUR WRISTS BESTIE

🦆 anon @duckanon

<3 <3 luv u duck anon.

villain rise turtles x reader

You have something that Raph needs. He’s been tracking you for months and he knows that you have a piece of the armor he needs for the resurrection of the Shredder.

And he’s never been one for plans, so…

He breaks in through your window.

You scream and then he screams and you’re holding on with an impressive grip on the armor piece and….

And you’re…. you’re so… cute. He suddenly lets go of the glove and you go flying back, knocking your head against the wall. He lets out an eep and rushes over, cradling your head.

You look pretty freaked out at his change of heart and he doesn’t blame you.

How he’s going to explain this to the Foot Lieutenant and the Foot Brute, he has no idea.

They take your introduction pretty well. So do you, by how you actually willingly hand over the glove.

But… your reaction when you find out about the Shredder at the baseball game destroys any loyalty he has left for the Foot Clan. He can’t bear to see that terrified expression on your face when you look at him.

Leo may have snuck up to the part of the hotel Big Mama told him to stay away from. But how could she blame him? People watching was his favorite past time! Who better to watch than some stupid humans?

And when his eyes landed on you, he just knew he had to have you. He wouldn’t regret it even when Big Mama punished him. If he hadn’t have snuck up to the floors above ground, he wouldn’t never seen you.

And anyways, his was birthday was coming up… and Big Mama said he could have anything he wanted. He grinned to himself, deciding to sneak into your room that night to ‘introduce’ himself. He’d leave a sticky note and scare you. Just a little.

Big Mama adored you. She gave you all these clothes so that you could look as perfect as her and Leo. She used for entertainment for the other Yokai, even when Leo glared on with jealously.

Soon enough, she was going to get her hands on some mysterious green ooze from three other turtles that looked suspiciously like Leo. As long as Leo didn’t find out about it, you would be the perfect test subject. And wouldn’t it be so sweet to see a lover’s quarrel in the Battle Nexus? She giggles at the thought.

Donatello has been bugged by you for a while.

In one of his rare outings to New York, obviously not letting Draxum know, he had run into you. He had been trying to break into a tech store and then you had appeared behind him.

He broke your nose but he hadn’t been left i scratched.

Then he just kept running into you again and again. He was half inclined just to kill you, but he feels like it would annoy him more with how much effort that would be towards someone like you.

You were annoying and just as mean as he was to you. It irritated him whenever you came back with a comment just as sharp as what he gave you.

One day, in one of his complaining rants to Mikey, Draxum overheard. Even though Donnie denied that it, Draxum was convinced he had a crush on a pathetic human. So, he decided he would kill you. As if you were nothing. Just scum on the Earth. All so Donnie wouldn’t be ‘distracted’ any longer. By that he meant he just wanted Donnie to work insane hours so Draxum wouldn’t have to work as hard.

And Donnie… couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let a single hair on you be injured.

There’s an angry turtle staring you down. Michelangelo and you had run into each other. One looking beat up and the other looking flabbergasted.

“You’re a… turtle?!”

Suddenly, you’re wrapped up in chains. That burnt badly.

“Ow!” you shriek and suddenly, just as quickly as they had come, they vanished. Big brown guilty eyes stare at you.

His face twitches before it turns disgusted. “Ugh. You smell disgusting.”

He was talking about the smell of your brunt skin. You glared at him angrily before seeing how bashed up he was. “What… happened to you?”

He was very reluctant to follow you home. And he kept asking you weird questions about other green turtles. Had you ever seen anyone that looked like him? Where? When? All these questions while you tried to stick a bandaid on him.

He also didn’t hold back on his mean comments about the human race. But as long as he sat still as you tried to rub the ash and debris off of him, you just let him talk.

Quickly, he warms up to you. It’s as if he never hated humans. He enjoys learning about everything you do and seeing all of what New York has to offer. He knows you can never meet Draxum. And even though he’s getting suspicious the more he leaves and the longer he’s out, Mikey continues to see you.

[miniaturecollectiveendermen]

hihi! hope you’re doing well :)

i was wondering if you could write headcannons for phoenix drop high Gene, Garroth & Blaze with a popular reader? like reader is well known in phoenix drop high, super energetic, kind and captain/leader of a big sports team/club? maybe just general headcannons (including how the two get together?)

tysm <33

A/N: i had a lot of fun writing this!! im sorry it took a while, i was sick when the request was sent and got sick again in the middle of writing im good now - for the most part at least

i hope you enjoy read this! :3

!! WARNINGS !! i feel like PDH!gene needs a warning of his own, gn!reader, you/your pronouns used

Gene: 

You were the volleyball club president, the cheery type who had a knack for making friends.

Gene is in no way fond of the popular types; so then why did you catch his attention? 

Why does his heartbeat pick up when he sees you smile, when he hears your laugh?

Gene is a selfish person, he takes what he wants - and in this case he wants you.

He considered trying to find something to blackmail you with, and get you to join the shadowknights.

But you always had people around you, and everyone knew what he was like, so there was no way they'd let him pull you away for a private conversation. 

But he found himself with the perfect opportunity one day after school. 

Your teammates had other obligations they needed to attend to; this left you to put away the equipment. 

He dismissed Sasha and Zenix (mainly Zenix as he had a tendency to speak without thinking). 

He approached you, and offered to help clean up. 

It was almost unnerving how nice he was being - you may have been a friendly person but you weren't stupid. you knew he was planning something.

You chose to be nice to him, but you kept your guard up. 

Time passes and you guys finish cleaning up, you say goodbye to Gene, and leave. 

Only after you leave does he realize he didn't even bring up you joining the shadow-knights. 

He just spent time with you, talking and hanging out like you were old friends. 

This is the first thing that made him question his plan.

PDH gene is by no means a good person - but even he has some morals. 

After this you would say hello to him in passing and make small talk - again acting like you two had been friends for years. 

You were just too sweet, and it chipped away at him. 

Eventually he completely forgot about forcing you to join the shadowknights. 

Although you weren't a shadowknight, you were friends. 

And not just with him, you were nice to Sasha and Zenix too. 

Sasha had gotten rather attached to you, and although Zenix would rather die than admit it - he quite liked having you around. 

Of course other people questioned why someone as sweet as you would be friends with them. Were you being forced?

you would always respond with “they're actually really nice” - Which no one believed of course.

But Gene quickly shut down all the questions, and no one really wanted to get on his bad side; so they stopped asking you about it.

Your relationship with Gene slowly changed, you two never acknowledged it.

but you both knew you weren't just “friends” anymore. 

Gene isn't the type to be explicitly romantic or loud with his affections - he's more subtle about it. 

He asked you out in a very casual way - you two were hanging out at his house. 

You were scrolling on your phone absentmindedly while he was playing a game, when he suddenly asked:

“Do you wanna go to the coffee shop this weekend?” “Sure!” “It's a date then.” 

No beating around the bush with this man. 

It's an interesting dynamic between you two - but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

Garroth: 

Garroth is a naturally charismatic and sociable person.

This, along with him being the baseball team captain, meant it was only natural for Garroth to be well acquainted with other sports captains. 

You were the track and field team captain. 

Much like Garroth you were charming and peppy, and had a tendency to naturally draw people to you. 

On the first day of the new school year, you were tending to the track and field club’s stand. 

Some other club leaders asked for your help; because of this a handful of nearby freshmen got the impression that you were helping with everything, and not just your own stand. 

You were happy to help, but you didn't anticipate being suddenly surrounded by a large group of over-excited freshmen who kept talking over each other.

You tried to help them all, but it was getting overwhelming.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Garroth redirected the freshmen to the mentors - he also offered to help out with the track and field stand. 

He wasn't very busy with the other members tending to the baseball stand.

You gladly accepted his help - although you and Garroth were friendly before this, you weren't very close.

After this day your friendship blossomed; the two of you would often spend free time together and even help each other with team captain responsibilities.

If either of you had a match, the other would be sure to come and cheer. 

With the two of you being as popular as you were, it was only inevitable for rumors to start about you two dating.

Garroth brushed it off and acted as though he wasn't affected by the silly rumors - but that wasn't really the case.

Truthfully he had been harboring feelings for you for some time, and these rumors gave him a chance to see how you'd react to the idea of you two dating. 

He did sometimes flirt with you, but played it off as a joke causing you to respond with joking flirtation of your own (was it really a joke tho). 

When you didn't seem opposed to the idea, his heart jumped out of his chest.

He took the first chance he got and asked you out. 

He's so cute guys I love him.

Blaze: 

You had been the tennis team captain for over a year - your popularity grew along with the tennis club as you led the team to win many matches.

had been receiving complaints by team members about a group of werewolves that kept stealing tennis balls in the middle of matches.

A few lost balls wouldn't be much of a problem, but they kept doing this until the players had none left.

You knew if you went to the werewolves responsible yourself the chances of them listening to you were little.

So you opted to go directly to the principal - so far she seemed a lot more competent than the previous principal, so you had hoped she'd be able to help you.

But these hopes were quickly diminished when she said she couldn't intervene as it was a “werewolf issue”.

You argued it was affecting the tennis club members who were human and meif'wa as well.

But she made some vague excuse about having a meeting and told you to talk to the werewolf studies teacher about it. 

After having any and all hope in the new principal destroyed, you went off to find the werewolf studies teacher.

When you explained the situation to him he informed you that this was the responsibility of the “alpha” and he couldn't do much.

By this point you were getting very frustrated - you had to run all over the school to find someone to help, only for them to tell you that they couldn't do anything. 

To your relief you were informed that the werewolf alpha was Aphmau (you decided to not ask why a human was the werewolf alpha). 

You weren't super close with Aphmau, but you met her once when you and Katelyn were playing tennis - you’d had some friendly interactions since and you had hoped that she wouldn't dismiss you like the last two people.

You managed to find her as she was talking to a red haired werewolf - you had seen him around a few times. His name was Blaze if you remembered correctly.

She was friendly as usual when you approached her, but you noticed she seemed more tired and even a bit frazzled.

You explained the situation to her and she was very understanding, but you could see that just thinking about handling this made her look even more tired.

That's when Blaze interrupted and said he was happy to help, as aphmau had to focus on choosing an alpha male - whatever that means.

You were ecstatic, after all that running around you finally found someone who could help.

Blaze was very sweet- and although he was a tad clueless when it came to certain things, he certainly had the spirit.

You helped Blaze find the responsible werewolves and at first he was explaining to them that they shouldn't steal things that don't belong to them. 

However after they were not very receptive to this, he took a more,, “hands on” approach.

You knew after going to this school for some time that werewolves would often solve conflict by fighting.

But you didn't expect blaze to throw the werewolves out the nearest window and then jump out after them??? 

You just wanted your team members to be able to practice in peace.. How did this happen-?

By the time that you reached downstairs where they were, the group of werewolves were standing in front of Blaze, looking down silently.

Blaze was grinning and looked very proud of himself - he seemed to be waiting for you to tell him he did a good job.

You didn't expect a 6’3 werewolf to be so.. Cute? 

You thanked him for his help and told him he was welcome to play with the tennis team whenever he pleased.

In the following weeks your friendship grew - he would join your practice in his free time. 

Although when he did it was mostly him chasing after the ball and forgetting he's supposed to hit it with the racket. 

As you grew closer, Blaze started noticing that his feelings towards you were changing. 

He always thought you were rather cute but he didnt think too deeply about it. 

But his desire to be around you grew.

subtlety isn't Blaze’s strong suit - the second he realizes he has a crush on someone, he starts following them around everywhere and his affection grows tenfold. 

He's a naturally affectionate person towards his loved ones, but you noticed that it's different with you. 

One day you decide to ask him about it and he just looks at you and just flat out confesses.

He was under the impression that he was being quite obvious. 

He's so <3333

I love him 

Immensely