#arena apartments sports city

[glimmrhomes]

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[heartysworld]

The Deal // Lando Norris

A/N: I'm literary writing this as the England-Spain final is happening so I've got absolutely no idea whether I'm going to jinx it or guess the winner but I guess we're about to find out!

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST

W.C. 2k

The week between the Silverstone and the Hungarian Grand Prix was a much needed break in the intense Formula 1 schedule. Half the racing season was over, and you and Lando both needed a distraction from the relentless grind of the sport. It was the perfect opportunity to do something fun, to escape the pressure, and enjoy a few days just for yourselves.

“Alright baby, I have a proposition,” Lando said one evening as you both relaxed on the couch in your shared apartment, the remnants of a takeout dinner spread out before you. His fingers were gently running through your hair, and you could feel the tension of the season easing away.

“Oh? Do tell,” you replied, looking up at him with a smirk, already intrigued by whatever he was about to suggest.

“You know how you’ve been dying to go see a  Taylor Swift concert?” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye. You could already tell where thus was going.

“Obviously,” you replied, excitement bubbling up at the mere mention of it.

“Well, I’ve been thinking… What if we make a deal? We go to the Taylor Swift concert in Milan, but the next day, we head to Germany for the Euro Cup final. I'm sure we can figure something out regarding the concert tickets. Deal?” he proposed, his smile widening as he extended his hand towards to as a form of an agreement.

Your heart did a little flip. The idea of seeing Taylor Swift live had been a dream for you, and combining that with Lando’s passion for football seemed like the perfect plan for the remaining time before the next race in Hungary.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Norris,” you agreed, shaking his hand in a mock-serious manner.

The days leading up to the trip were filled with excitement and anticipation. You both packed your bags, making sure to include all the essentials – your Taylor Swift outfit and Lando’s favorite football jerseys. For a bit of fun, you had even gotten Lando a shirt that said, “So many Sainz, so little time,” a playful nod to his friendship with Carlos.

Finally, the day arrived. You and Lando boarded the flight to Milan, the city buzzing with the same energy that coursed through your veins. After checking into the hotel you'd be staying at, you quickly changed into your concert outfits. You wore a beautiful flowy dress that sparkled in pink and blue hues and twirled as you walked, while Lando sported his new shirt with pride.

As you arrived at the concert venue, the atmosphere was electric. Fans were everywhere, their excitement palpable. You grabbed Lando’s hand, your eyes sparkling with joy.

“This is it, Lando! I can’t believe we’re really here,” you exclaimed, squeezing his hand.

“I know, love. Let’s make the most of it,” he replied, pulling you closer as you navigated through the crowd to find your VIP seats.

The concert was everything you’d dreamed of and more. Taylor Swift’s voice filled the arena, her energy was infectious. You sang along to every song, your voice mingling with thousands of others. Despite not knowing all the lyrics, Lando joined in with your enthusiasm, dancing and cheering with you.

During “Love Story,” Lando placed his hands on your waist and twirled you around, his eyes never leaving yours. You laughed, your heart feeling light and free. The moment was perfect, a memory you’d treasure forever.

“Thank you for this, Lando. This means the world to me,” you said, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Anything for you, Y/N,” he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

Throughout the concert, fans recognized Lando and started handing him friendship bracelets. By the end of the night, both his hands were covered with colorful, handmade bracelets given to him by enthusiastic Swifties. The sight of Lando, a Formula 1 driver, adorned with friendship bracelets made you smile.

When “Shake It Off” started playing, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You jumped up and down, hugging Lando tightly, and he joined in, laughing and dancing along with you. Unbeknownst to you both, several people in the audience captured photos and videos of you two, sharing your unfiltered joy.

The next day, you were up early, the excitement of the previous night still lingering. After a quick breakfast, you and Lando hopped on a flight to Germany. Unfortunately, time wasn't on your side and you had no chance to explore the beautiful city of Milan with the love of your life. However, this led to Lando's idea for a vacation in Milan during his summer break.

The Euro Cup final was an event Lando had been looking forward to for months, and you were determined to make it just as special for him as the concert had been for you.

As you arrived at the stadium, the sheer scale of it took your breath away. Fans from all over the world were gathered, their team colors proudly displayed. You wore a jersey in support of Lando’s home country, earning an appreciative smile from him.

“Ready for this?” you asked, taking his hand as you made your way to your seats.

“Absolutely. This is going to be epic,” he replied, his excitement evident.

The match was intense, the atmosphere charged with energy. England was facing Spain, and the tension was palpable. You found yourself getting caught up in the excitement, cheering and shouting alongside Lando. When England scored the winning goal, the stadium erupted in celebration. Lando lifted you up in a jubilant hug, spinning you around.

“We did it!” he exclaimed, his eyes alight with joy.

“You did it,” you corrected, laughing as you hugged him tightly. “This was incredible, Lando. I’m so glad we came.”

“Me too, love. This has been the perfect weekend,” he replied, kissing you deeply.

Later, as you made your way back to the hotel, fans also captured moments of Lando jumping and cheering, celebrating England's victory. Videos of his infectious excitement quickly spread online, fans delighted by the sight of him in his element.

Back in your room, you cuddled up on the bed, exhausted but happy. Lando pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

“I love you too, Lando. Thank you for everything,” you replied, snuggling closer.

As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that this weekend would be one you’d both remember for the rest of your lives – a testament to your love, your shared passions, and the joy of making deals that brought you closer together.

The next morning, you woke up to a flurry of notifications on your phone. Curious, you opened social media to find that videos and photos of you and Lando from both the concert and the football match had gone viral. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how cute you both looked together, enjoying something you each loved.

There were clips of you dancing and twirling to “Love Story,” Lando’s hands on your waist, and another of you jumping up and down, hugging him tightly during “Shake It Off.” Then, there were the heartwarming videos of Lando cheering and jumping when England won, his pure joy infectious.

“Looks like we’re famous,” you said, showing Lando your phone. He chuckled, pulling you into another hug.

“I guess the world likes seeing us happy,” he said, kissing your forehead.

And as you lay there, wrapped up in each other, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for these perfect moments you had shared, knowing that you had created memories that would last a lifetime.

MASTERLIST

[missqhughes]

JERSEY GIRL | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem!reader

-> includes: fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: the same guy, the same time, the same block. weirdly coincidental; a part of her excited for the small portion of the day they get to cross paths. little does she know, her new job is for the very team he plays for.

-> everyone’s favorite lukey pookie 😗 i feel like he’s such a sucker for a crush like this. also got some help from @sweetestdesire ! my girl, thank you! as always, love it as much as i do! 💋 part 1

*fic is not proofread

i’m late, i’m late, i’m SO late. y/n thought to herself, cursing her alarm for not going off at the right time.

the morning was rough enough, unopened boxes still scattered around her new apartment, living in a brand new city across the country from her old one.

she tripped over her packages items in a scramble to get ready, rummaging through them to find any semblance of a professional outfit, one that would be okay to wear for her first day.

if being late wasn’t enough, her new job was with the new jersey devils, and she didn’t know shit about hockey. y/n never cared to watch it, didn’t even know how it was played and god knew she couldn’t pick any of the players on the devils out of a crowd; even if she tried.

to say she was shocked about getting a position with them, that was an understatement.

and here she was, speed walking to get to the prudential center on time; fast enough to where she could have maybe a minute to spare if she was lucky, and slow enough to where she didn’t look like a complete lunatic.

turning a corner with her head down, she comes in full contact with a body in front of her, both stepping back and coming in with quick apologies,

“sorry,”

“shit, sorry”

the guy she had ran into looked about her age, tall with a head full of brown curls and in a neat maroon suit.

the interaction happened so fast that when she turned to look back at him, he was far along in his own path.

guessing he’s also in a rush. maybe he works in the finance part of the city.

she pried him out of her mind as soon as she ran through the doors of the prudential center, finding her way to the devil’s office, thankfully, just in time.

she was greeted with handshakes and smiles, talking to a couple of the team managers,

“welcome to the devils, y/n happy to have you here.” she shook hands with the man, controlling her breath and keeping it down that she almost got on all fours to make it there on time.

“happy to be here, thank you,” she smiled,

“for now you’ll just be doing some of the boring stuff. paper work, legal, social, all that kind. you’ll have your own space but feel free to visit around the arena when you’d like. season starts right around the corner, so we want to make sure we’re on our game.”

she nodded her head, nervous about the expectations set on her. y/n wanted to make a good impression on everyone, and set her best foot forward. thankfully no one had asked her anything about hockey yet.

“absolutely, thank you again,”

y/n was lead to her office space, a desk designated with her name plate and a small devils logo next to it. she sat down and adjusted herself, immediately diving into her work, but in the back of her mind the curly haired guy from around the corner was there.

——————————————————————————

today was a little more sane.

y/n still woke up late, but nonetheless now knew what box she put her nice clothes in, slipping on boots and leaving out the door in a nick of time.

she was now able to take in her new city, actually enjoying her walk to work and the bustle around it. in her awe of her surroundings, she bumped into a stranger for a second time.

god, again?

she looked up, apology ready at the mouth, in a slight disbelief at the person in front of her when he spoke,

“sorry about that… again,”

it was the same guy from yesterday, this time sporting a plain black shirt and pants, much more casual than yesterday. he looked really good, just as good as he did in his suit. y/n was able to actually take in his features; plump lips, she could tell he had a nice smile, and lush green eyes that dived into hers.

out of her trance, she felt her cheeks grow hot realizing that she was staring for far too long,

“it’s okay, um, bye.” she stuttered, moving past him, keeping her head down until the embarrassment she felt had died down inside her.

the curly haired boy turned, watching her disappear out of his sight. she was pretty. really pretty. he almost wish he had said something, anything after knocking into her for a second time.

no chance is happens again.

——————————————————————————

god, how does this keep happening?

y/n was running late. again. more late than yesterday and the day before.

the pile of nice clothing was scattered over her room, a result of her sifting and dismissing outfits even though she knew she didn’t have the time to spare.

with almost tripping out the door, she said fuck it, running and almost getting hit by a not so kind mouthed new jersey driver in an intersection.

in her hot pursuit for work, she slowed down at the corner she saw the same guy in. maybe it was a coincidence, but she didn’t want to make it to a third time running into his chest.

her gut feeling correct; his steps seemingly synchronized to hers, stopping a few feet in front of her.

he was sporting a different suit, a crisp navy blue matched with a perfectly patterned tie. today, with the addition of a backpack and headphones.

“good thing i slowed down,” y/n said in a short breath, his lips curling up into a barely noticeable smile,

“glad you did too,” he said, his voice gentle and sweet.

y/n looked down at her watch, groaning lightly when she was reminded of the time,

“shit i have to go, m’sorry,” she mumbled, picking up her pace once she knew he couldn’t see her anymore. she had already been cutting it close the past two days, not wanting to make today she was officially late.

y/n just kept moving, not stopping her pace until she reached the arena, only slowing down once she knew she could, hurling herself into her small corner desk.

it was unfortunate; the past three consecutive days y/n had run into this cute guy, the first one she’s met in the city and she had to run away from him every time, quite literally.

——————————————————————————

it had been 2 days since she had seen the handsome stranger, and it honestly made y/n a bit disappointed.

she’d put on a cuter, spent a little longer to curl her hair, even setting her alarm extra early to leave on time in hopes of seeing him for just that slim moment; maybe this time she’d actually stop talk to him, maybe even ask to get a coffee with her, if she was feeling bold enough.

maybe he started taking the bus, she thought to herself.

y/n sat at her desk, leg bouncing up and down as she stared blankly at the seemingly endless paperwork in front of her. y/n didn’t even feel like she had a job in pro sports, it all felt like the same office job she had before. all but with a nicer apartment and some eye candy she ran in to.

the day felt extra long, her feet ached when she had to drag herself off her desk and to her walk back to her apartment.

once y/n reached her front door, she sighed in relief in slipping off her heels, tossing them aimlessly into her hallway. her shoulders sinking down once she had dropped her things, eagerly walking over to rest on her new white couch.

she had done a good job unpacking over the couple days, only two partially emptied boxes occupying her living room. she felt satisfied, but not completely settled in.

maybe it’s time to make some friends?

——————————————————————————

she didn’t see him the day after either.

she sighed, head in her hand, trying to squeeze the headache out of her temples, eyes tired from staring at the computer for god knows how long.

y/n’s posture fixed when she heard 3 knocks on the wall, she swiveled her chair, met with the smiling face of the head coach; appropriately wearing a devils jacket and hat to pair.

“y/n, right?”

“hi, yes, that’s me. how are you?” she smiled, standing up to give him a firm handshake.

“doing well, thank you. jus to let you know, the players are doing some media work right now, tom wanted you to introduce yourself to them. get familiar with the team before the first couple games.”

y/n cheered internally, finally something to do other than feel her eyes melt watching a screen all day.

“sounds good, i’ll be down there soon.”

he shook her hand again with a smile before leaving the room. y/n closed up the last bit of work she was doing, and made her way down to the ice.

the players were in their red practice jerseys, some making videos with the media team and others skating around the ice casually, talking amongst each other.

the atmosphere was nice to her, a couple of the players saying hi and introducing themselves. but everything seemed to stop when y/n made eye contact with a familiar face.

no way.

it couldn’t be.

he seemed to have the exact same expression on his face as her, equally in shock and now oblivious to the conversation happening in front of him.

y/n felt like she was dreaming, that she was going to be shaken back into reality, that her brain was just convincing herself that he was there when he actually wasn’t.

but no, no matter how much she blinked, or dug her nails into her palms, there he was.

she felt awkward again, realizing she had been staring at him for the nth time since they’ve crossed paths, spinning to find someone else to converse with instead of peering into his soul.

behind her back, he was still in awe, unable to tear his gaze away from her.

“yeah, and then i was like… luke, dude, are you even listening?”

“what jack? oh, yeah i’m listening,” he said, an obvious lie, not paying any amount of attention to him.

jack looked around to see what could possibly cause luke to be so occupied, and then he saw y/n; sneaking little side glances and lightly eyeing him up and down.

he chuckled, “lukey’s got a crush on the new girl huh? why don’t you go say something instead of staring like a creep.”

“shut up, i was not staring,” luke said, hitting him on the shoulder with a tint of pink brushing on his cheeks with his denial. “it’s just… i saw her at the same time and place like 3 days in a row. it was weird, and she was always in a rush. didn’t know in a rush to come here though.” he kept his voice low, scared she could somehow overhear them.

“then just call it fate and say something, please, i cant keep watching this.”

“no way i’m doing that.”

“okay fine, then i will,”

luke’s eyes went wide for a moment, jack calling out over to where she was heads turning but he was waving y/n over.

she felt her ears ringing, almost feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, like it was some secret they had and now she was exposed to everyone.

y/n stopped in front of them, hands in her pockets to control the shaking, facing the two; one with the biggest smile on his face and the other ready to pass out.

“i’m jack, this is my brother luke,” the smiley one said, his blue eyes shining as he used his thumb to point to luke, the name to the handsome stranger.

jack held out his hand to shake hers, nudging luke slightly to do the same, y/n’s hand lingering on luke’s a little longer, feeling an electricity in her body as soon as their hands touched.

“nice to meet you, i’m y/n.”

luke probably repeated her name about 100 times in his head, everything happening in front of him causing a buzzing in his stomach. he smiled formed lightly, taking all of her in.

“so, two brothers in the nhl, your parents must be really proud,”

“actually our-”

“our older brother plays for as well, so, yeah, there’s three of us, yeah” luke spat out nervously, his sentencing jumbling so fast that the words barely got out.

jack internally face palmed, embarrassed at his brother’s lack of game. he was shocked it was working, y/n keeping the conversation going with him with a grin on her face.

“oh look, curtis is calling me over, don’t wait up you two,” jack pat his brother on the back, giving her a wink before jogging away.

with him gone, they both stood there for a second, swallowed in silence.

“i cant believe you play for the devils,” y/n said breathlessly, before she was able to swallow her shock, but seeing him now wasn’t just a coincidence; it couldn’t be.

“i cant believe you work for us,” luke said, a dopey smile still stuck on his face,

“i didn’t think i’d see you again, i thought those few couple times were just coincidence.”

“i didn’t think so either, but hey look at those odds,”

y/n’s heart kept skipping beat after beat; no one having this kind of effect on her in a long time, but she wasn’t mad about it.

“so, y/n… areyoudoinganythingafterwork?” he mumbled, face turning bright red after his incoherent words.

her brows slightly furrowed in confusion, “am i what?”

he inhaled deeply, green eyes bouncing between her gaze, “are you doing anything… after work? if not it’s totally fine i was just curious,”

y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his rambling, how nervous she didn’t realize she made him and was absolutely loving every second of it.

“i’m not doing anything after work, luke,” y/n smiled, her heart beating at a better rhythm than it had since she’s been in jersey.

“cool, yeah we should definitely do something,”

“show me around the city?”

“you just moved here?” luke was surprised, not expecting someone who just moved to the area to be working for the nhl.

“yes,” y/n scratched the back of her head, “it’s been hectic, still a few boxes left at my apartment to unpack,”

“well then, i’ll show you around the city. can i get your number? how’s 6:00 sound?” luke fidgeted with his fingers, studying her face with his phone in her hand, lighting up when he saw her name saved in his contacts.

“6:00, i’ll text you my address. don’t be late,” she chirped,

“wouldn’t dream of it,” luke smiled, waving her off while shuffling away, his brown curls slightly bouncing with every step, the back of his jersey reading “hughes” with the number 43.

luke hughes. hm. definitely looking him up later.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto Wolff with wife Olympian! reader feat their son, Jack. Since it was now summer break for F1, he didn't waste the opportunity to support her in her sports (equestrian). You decide how it goes. Fluff and fun. Thanks!! :))

Olympic Dreams and Racing Hearts

Word count: 1.6k

Pairing: Toto Wollf x reader

Warning: description of a panic attack 

One Shot Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

It didn't turn out as fun as you would have probably liked but I found it quite fun how the story changed. Still hope you guys like it.

______________________________________________________________

The vibrant streets of Paris were alive with the excitement of the Summer Olympics, a perfect backdrop for the Wolff family’s adventure. Toto Wolff relished the opportunity to spend quality time with his family during the summer break. Y/n, his wife and a celebrated Olympian equestrian, was preparing for her event, and Toto was determined to support her in every way possible.

The mornings began with the soft glow of dawn filtering through their Parisian apartment, the air filled with the scent of fresh croissants and the distant hum of the city. Y/n was already at the Olympic stables, tending to her beloved horse, while Toto and their son, Jack, made their way over to join her.

"Look, Daddy! Mommy's already with Maximus," Jack exclaimed, pointing to Y/n and her majestic horse.

Toto smiled, lifting Jack onto his shoulders for a better view. "Yes, she is. Mommy’s amazing, isn’t she?"

Y/n turned and waved, her face lighting up when she saw her boys. "Good morning! Ready for another day at the stables?"

Jack wriggled down and ran towards his mother. "Can I help, Mommy?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Y/n replied, ruffling his hair. "You can help brush Maximus."

As Jack busied himself with his task, Toto approached Y/n, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You ready for today?" he asked, his voice filled with admiration.

Y/n leaned into him, feeling the reassuring strength of his presence. "I am. It means the world to me that you’re here."

"Wouldn’t miss it for anything," Toto said, kissing her temple. "This is your time to shine."

The day was filled with rigorous training sessions, with Y/n and Maximus working in perfect harmony. Toto watched from the sidelines, often with Jack on his lap, explaining the nuances of the sport to their curious son. He marveled at Y/n's dedication and skill, her grace and strength evident in every movement.

Later that evening, back in their apartment, the tension of the upcoming competition began to weigh on Y/n. She paced the living room, her mind racing.

“Toto, what if I mess up tomorrow? What if Maximus isn’t at his best?” she confessed, her voice tinged with anxiety.

Toto walked over and gently took her hands in his. “Y/n, you are the best rider I know. You’ve trained for this. Trust in yourself and in Maximus. We’ll be right there, cheering you on.”

She took a deep breath, nodding. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You could never let us down,” Toto said firmly. “And no matter what happens, Jack and I are incredibly proud of you.”

The following morning, the atmosphere in Paris was electric. The Olympic equestrian arena buzzed with anticipation as Y/n prepared to enter. She looked stunning in her riding attire, confidence radiating from her as she focused on the task ahead. Toto stood by her side, offering last-minute words of encouragement.

"You’ve got this," he whispered, squeezing her hand.

Y/n smiled, her nerves easing with his support. "Thank you, Toto. For everything."

As Y/n rode into the arena, the crowd’s applause was thunderous. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, every cheer and clap reverberating through the air. The bright lights illuminated the arena, casting a spotlight on Y/n and Maximus as they entered, their synchronized movements showcasing the deep bond between rider and horse. Y/n's heart pounded with a mix of nerves and determination, but she kept her focus, her eyes set on the course ahead.

Maximus trotted gracefully, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his sleek coat. Y/n sat tall in the saddle, her posture perfect, exuding confidence. The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, introducing her and Maximus to the eager audience.

"Representing her country with pride, let's welcome Y/n and Maximus!"

The crowd erupted once more, their enthusiasm palpable. Y/n took a deep breath, her mind laser-focused. She gave Maximus a gentle nudge, and they began their routine. The first few jumps were executed flawlessly, Maximus soaring over each obstacle with ease. Y/n's hands and legs moved in perfect harmony with Maximus, guiding him with subtle cues.

As they approached the water jump, Y/n felt a surge of adrenaline. This was one of the more challenging obstacles, requiring precision and timing. Maximus leaped, clearing the water with room to spare. The crowd gasped in awe, then burst into applause.

Next came the combination jump, a series of three fences placed in quick succession. Y/n knew this would test their agility and coordination. Maximus responded beautifully, his strides perfectly measured. They cleared the first two fences effortlessly, and Y/n felt a swell of pride. They were in sync, moving as one.

Then, as they approached the final fence of the combination, Y/n felt Maximus hesitate for a split second. She adjusted her position, urging him on, but it was too late. Maximus clipped the top rail with his hind legs, and it fell to the ground with a dull thud. The collective gasp from the crowd echoed through the arena.

Y/n's heart sank, but she didn't let it show. She maintained her composure, quickly recovering and guiding Maximus to the next obstacle. The rest of the course was executed flawlessly, Y/n and Maximus finishing with a flourish. She patted his neck, whispering words of encouragement and gratitude.

As they exited the arena, the crowd's applause was still loud, but Y/n could feel the weight of the mistake. She forced a smile, waving to the spectators, but inside, her heart was heavy. The scores were announced, reflecting the penalty for the knocked rail. Y/n and Maximus had earned second place, an incredible achievement, yet it fell short of her ultimate goal.

Backstage, Y/n dismounted, her legs feeling weak. She stroked Maximus's neck, whispering, "You did so well, boy. I'm so proud of you."

Toto and Jack rushed to her side, their faces filled with pride and love. "You did amazing!" Toto exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Jack cheered, clapping his hands. "Mommy, you’re the best!"

Y/n forced a smile, holding back her tears. "Thank you, both of you. I’m sorry I didn’t win."

Toto gently lifted her chin. "You have nothing to apologize for. You gave it your all, and that's what matters. We are so proud of you."

The rest of the day was spent trying to enjoy Paris, but the weight of the competition hung heavily on Y/n’s shoulders. She held it together for Jack, laughing and playing with him as they explored the city, but the disappointment gnawed at her.

That evening, after Jack had fallen asleep, Y/n’s facade began to crack. She paced their apartment, her breath quickening. “I failed, Toto. I let everyone down,” she said, her voice shaking.

Toto moved to her side, pulling her into his arms. “You didn’t fail. Coming in second at the Olympics is an incredible achievement.”

Y/n tried to steady her breathing, but the anxiety was overwhelming. “I should have done better. I should have—” Her words were cut off by a sob as she buried her face in Toto’s chest.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Toto soothed, rubbing her back. “Breathe with me. In and out, slowly.”

Y/n tried to comply, but her breath hitched and she choked on her sobs, her body trembling. Her attempts to quiet herself were futile, and the noise woke Jack.

"Mommy?" Jack's small voice broke through the tension. He stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his face a mix of confusion and concern.

Y/n quickly tried to compose herself, wiping at her tears. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to wake you."

Jack approached cautiously, his eyes wide. "Why are you crying, Mommy? Did something bad happen?"

Y/n knelt down to his level, forcing a smile through her tears. "No, sweetie, everything’s okay. Mommy just had a tough day."

Toto knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder. "Your mom did something incredible today, Jack. She worked really hard and made us all very proud."

Jack looked at Y/n, his eyes shining with innocence and love. "Mommy, you’re the best rider in the whole world."

Y/n’s heart ached with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. She pulled Jack into a gentle hug, her voice breaking. "Thank you, Jack. That means so much to me."

Toto looked at Y/n, his eyes filled with understanding. “Let’s all take a deep breath together, okay? In and out, slowly.”

They followed Toto’s lead, the simple act of breathing together providing a sense of calm. Y/n’s shaking subsided, and she kissed Jack’s forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay, Mommy,” Jack said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/n whispered, holding him close.

Toto gently guided Jack back to his room. “Let’s get you back to bed, buddy. Mommy and Daddy are here, and everything’s going to be alright.”

After Jack was settled, Toto returned to Y/n’s side. She looked exhausted, the weight of the day etched into her features.

“Come here,” Toto said, leading her to the couch. They sat together, Y/n leaning against him, drawing strength from his presence.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Toto replied. “You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling. You’ve been so strong, Y/n.”

She nodded, tears still slipping down her cheeks. “I just wanted it so badly, Toto. And now I feel like I let everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” Toto said firmly. “You’ve achieved something remarkable. We’re all incredibly proud of you, especially Jack. Did you see how much he admires you?”

Y/n smiled faintly. “Yeah, I did.”

“Let’s get some rest,” Toto suggested. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together, like we always do.”

[gisellaaa]

the white snow casts a bright film over the town; you shine the brightest in my eyes

cb98 | during an off day, connor finally takes you to look at the christmas lights in chicago.

If there was one thing you liked about Chicago, it was the atmosphere in the winter time. The nicer parts of the city had miscellaneous Christmas lights strewn along the buildings and trees. You admired them during the day when you were out doing errands, then at night you would watch them twinkle from the apartment window. Your eyes twinkled as bright as those damn lights when you would peer out at them. Connor noticed your admiration for them quickly.

You were never one to necessarily like being out in the cold, though growing up in Canada, it was usually more likely to be chilly than warm. 

Connor had been busy since the season started. He was either watching film, playing, or practicing, not leaving much time to spend with you. Connor was dedicated to the sport, that was something you’ve known forever. When he finally achieved his goal of playing in the NHL, you swore he’s never been happier.

Connor arrived home mid-afternoon from morning skate, the only thing that was planned on his schedule for the day. You were lounging on the couch, in the midst of reading the book that had taken much of your attention. 

“Hi, Connie. How was morning skate?” You asked, your eyes barely glancing up from the book. A loud thump from his bag sounded through the small apartment, a loud grunt following it.

“Normal, nothing really exciting.” Connor replied, pulling open the fridge to grab a water bottle.  You watched him open the bottle, taking three long gulps of water. Your eyes glanced back out the window, a thought popping into your mind.

“Since you don’t have anything tonight, can we please drive around to look at all the lights? It’s depressing to look at them from this window every night.” You spoke, book marking your page and shutting the book. You placed the hardback book on the table, sitting up slightly.

Connor looked over at you, a nod evident after he finished the entirety of the water bottle. “You really want to?” He asked, tossing the plastic bottle into the trash can.

You nodded quickly, your eyes fixated on him. “I do, they just look so pretty at night.”

“Then yeah, of course.” Connor nodded, smiling at you.

Later that evening, when the sun had set, you were dressed and ready to head out. You had on a chunky white sweater with light wash jeans. Your hair was pulled into a half-up style, a black ribbon adorning around the hairband. Connor was dressed in his usual every day attire - a black Nike hoodie with jeans and Air Forces. 

You always made fun of him for wearing those shoes, they were beat up and have been through a lot.

Connor’s car had been warming up in the parking garage, hoping to ensure the interior was warm before you guys left. Connor waited for you to finish getting ready, scrolling through his phone in the living area. You finished the last of your makeup, grabbing your purse from the dresser in the bedroom. 

“You ready?” You spoke, announcing yourself as you walked into the living room. Connor quickly stood up, turning to look at you.

“You look pretty,” Connor complimented, grabbing his keys and wallet from the coffee table. The coffee table was practically on its last leg, you’ve had it for ages. It was your grandma’s and after her passing, it had been sitting in the garage of your family’s home.

Your face flushed a light red, scrunching up at his compliment. “Thank you,”

Connor placed a light kiss on your cheek, leading you outside of the apartment. Hand-in-hand, you walked down to the parking garage, finding Connor’s car in the usual parking spot. He opened the passenger door for you then got into the driver’s seat. 

“I think we can drive down the main road outside, there are many lights down there. Then, do you know that little Christmas tree thing near the arena? There are many different like - light galleries - or something,” You spoke up, watching Connor connect his phone to the car play.

“I think I know what you are talking about,” Connor spoke, putting the car into reverse.

His hand found its usual spot on your thigh once you got onto the main road. The road was a long straight stretch, traffic filling the road. Usually, it would’ve irritated Connor, but the traffic helped you really get a good look at the Christmas decorations that adorned the road. Your eyes were fixated on the twinkling lights outside of the window. There was a mix of colors; white, red, green, blue, yellow - you were absolutely mesmerized.

Due to the stop-and-go flow of traffic, Connor was able to look over at you, admiring you. You caught him a few times, only when you would turn your vision to the other side of the road.

You felt increasingly lucky to have ended up with Connor. Christmas was easily your favorite season, your previous partners never really wanted to indulge in Christmas festivities.

"Oh! Look at those ones!" You gushed, pointing at lights that were arranged to look like a polar bear. It was perched against the small, private owned pet store. "I love Christmas - Ohmygosh."

Connor let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you.

After an hour of sitting in traffic, the car was parked in the parking lot to a walk-through Christmas event. It happened every year in Chicago, right by the United Center. Many vendors would set up different Christmas light decorations.

You pushed some of your fly aways out of your face, getting out of the car to face the cold Chicago air. Connor's hand once again grasped yours as you both walked through the entrance.

"Connor - Ohmygosh - I love this so much." You stated, your eyes dancing from each light attraction.

"Good, I'm glad. Sat through a hour's worth of traffic for this." Connor sarcastically spoke, his hand squeezing yours.

"Oh quit it, you loved every minute of that traffic. Well, except for when that one car almost hit us." You grinned at him, pulling out your phone to take some photos.

At some point, Connor was walking behind you, attentively watching as you would become entranced by a new attraction. You would take out your phone to take a picture, then stare at the lights for many minutes afterward. Connor took some candid pictures of you aswell.

At the end of the walk way, there was a large Christmas tree that was decorated with many ornaments and lights. You swore your heart doubled in size looking at it. You were never sure why you loved Christmas so much, maybe it was the endless joy that usually came along with it.

Connor linked back up at your side, glancing at you while you stared at the tree. "Thank you, Connie. Thank you for doing this with me." You stated, finally detaching your eyes from the tree to look at him.

"Of course, baby, this was fun." Connor replied, his hand linking back into yours. "It's cute, yanno, how much you love Christmas. Don't think I've ever met someone who likes the season as much as you."

"It's just such a positive time - and it's so beautiful." You explained, a grin adorning your face as you stared at him. "I love you,"

"I love you too," Connor replied, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

yourusername

yourusername connor took me to look at all the pretty christmas lights. 11/10 man if you ask me <3

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_connorbedard

_connorbedard Pretty girl likes the Pretty lights.

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[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (1.5: Rewind) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; kissing; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: You Found Me First by Jake Etheridge; Alone with you by Canyon City || Playlist 🎶

8 years ago 

Yoongi is not a stranger to loud sounds.

His brother, Geumjae, is a fan of rock music and used to play it all day, everyday when they were growing up. Yoongi would fall asleep to the sound of drums and electric guitar and gritty vocals of whatever band that the older man was into. 

Yoongi’s dad runs an antique shop, a business that was passed down from his elders and which was expanded into furniture restoration. He’d spend his free time there, watching his father use all types of hand and electric tools to scrape, saw, and sand different pieces until the finished product was up to his standards. 

It may seem a bit odd but he thinks it’s one reason why he got into sports. He’d watched them as a kid and was amused by the cheers and the grunts that could be heard in the arena and through the TV. There was so much energy and so much excitement, as if those motivated the players even more, injecting in them adrenaline that pushed them, that made them hungrier, that made them succeed. 

He understood it during his first pickup basketball game in the neighborhood park when he was 10 years old. A couple of the older boys invited him over to play and the audience, which consisted mostly of the kids from school and some adults hanging around, were hooting, yelling, and praising them once the score got close. 

It was electric. Yoongi didn’t always smile but he couldn’t stop himself from doing so after he made the winning basket - a lucky shot, really, but he liked to call it the shot of destiny. There was nothing like it, and he always carries that experience with him. He refers to it as the pivotal moment in his life where he fell in love with basketball, as he told the university newspaper when they interviewed him the other week. It made him think of the possibilities, of the extent of his talent, and the overwhelming joy he could get from going to that court and giving his all to win a game. 

He smiles just thinking about it now, as he warms up for the first match of the summer league. It’s off-season for the university teams but this conference is where some other schools and amateur teams compete. He’s unfamiliar with the players but that’s what makes it exciting. 

He knows they know him, though. He made national news when he became the youngest MVP at 19. That was 2 years ago when he was a sophomore, but his local fans continued to grow. He was never one for attention but he won’t shy away from it if it’s about his talent. To make it to the professional league, people need to know his name. And he knows that’s not a problem. 

“There goes the ‘sweet assassin’ Min Yoongi with a fadeaway jumper and it’s nothing but net!” Jungkook hoots, imitating a commentator as he watches his captain from the sidelines. 

“He gets the steal and takes the step back-3!” Yells Namjoon this time. “You don’t leave the ‘sweet assassin’ open like that!”

Yoongi chuckles as he walks towards his teammates. “Stop it. The moniker sucks,” he says, wiping away his sweat. 

“You’ve had that since freshman year and you’re complaining now?” Namjoon chuckles. 

“It’s cringey.” Yoongi frowns.

“It’s brilliant!” Jungkook disagrees. “I mean, the school paper article revealed your online pseud is ‘suga’ because that’s how much you revere yourself and your shooting guard position and the sports dudes ran with it, gave you a nickname, and it stuck. That’s impact. And it’s pretty cool. The ‘golden boy’ makes me sound like an idol or something.”

Yoongi and Namjoon laugh but insist that the name fits the younger man. He is pretty good at everything.

“I still think the ‘god of destruction’ is the best,” Yoongi remarks, referring to Namjoon, who got the name after the few times that he’d detached the ring from the board after a dunk. “It’s so intimidating.” 

The 3 men proceed to tease each other, and Yoongi likes the carefree vibe of off-season games. Though his team still takes it seriously - they’d recently won the university conference so they don’t want to slack - they also want to play with less of the pressure than they normally do. It’s good for camaraderie and better for the start of summer. They want to enjoy and have fun while making a statement through their wins. 

Yoongi instructs both men to continue warming up as he passes Namjoon the ball. All of them head to the court to shoot and as the captain, Yoongi looks around to make sure all his teammates are present and are preparing for the game. It’s not a big one but somehow, the locals have come to enjoy the summer league. It’s free and it’s good entertainment, and so the buzz in the gym is enough to get him excited. 

The spectators are settling down. He stands by the sidelines and sees familiar faces. There’s a bunch of kids from school and some that he’s met during pickup games. There are neighbors, too, and even that one kid he remembers from high school who’s friends with Jungkook, the one who spilled juice all over his notebook and then cried so Yoongi never spoke to him again for fear that he’d make the younger man upset. The guy’s studying in Seoul now, if he’s not mistaken. 

Yoongi’s eyes travel to the person sitting next to him and he swears something goes wrong with his ears because the sounds in the gym suddenly disappear. For a moment, he can’t hear anything. That same instance, everything blurs. Except for the girl with the yellow scarf on her hair, sitting next to Taehyung - he remembers his name now - her crinkled eyes and stunningly sweet smile rendering him speechless. 

Being some local basketball superstar means that Yoongi gets attention, and that includes from women who are somehow attracted to his calm, quite nonchalant personality that’s tinged with the right amount of arrogance when he’s on the court. He’s not a stranger to their efforts to get noticed. He’s noticed them, in fact, but not enough to get him interested. It’s rare though for someone else to catch his eyes. But that woman though… that’s someone he’s definitely interested in. 

He’s never seen her before. She’s probably from another town, or someone that Taehyung met in Seoul or something. Somehow the idea of her being foreign excites him. If she’s never heard of him, she will now. And she—

The ball hitting Yoongi’s jaw surprises him, causing him to jerk back and find the person who probably embarrassed him in front of the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. He’s not surprised to find Seungkwan rushing to him, apologizing and falling to his knees, saying that he called the captain’s name and threw the ball, thinking it would be caught.

But when Yoongi looks at the woman, she has her eyes elsewhere. He sighs in relief, telling Seungkwan that it’s okay, but when he looks towards the benches again, she’s now looking at him. 

He swears his heart stops. But it’s not like him to show it. 

He holds her gaze for a while, liking the effect it seems to have on her as she shyly smiles and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. But for his sake he really hopes she’d look away. 

The coach calls for the team to huddle and Yoongi’s the one who has to break the moment, turning his back to run to the sidelines. He looks in her direction again and smirks to give her something to think about and maybe cheer about, and the bite of her lip says he definitely did. 

“Is it possible to get an orgasm from just looking at someone?” You ask your best friend Taehyung. “Or like, when you both look at each other and there’s that tension you feel and you just… get turned on?”

“I literally just spoke to someone for a minute and you just eye-fucked somebody?” He gasps. “You’re quite something.”

“Hey, you’re the one who told me to scout the players and tell you who I find cute so you can introduce me to them,” you shrug. “I just did what you asked. He just happened to be looking at me when I found him. And shit did he look at me.”

“Who is it?”

“Number 3.”

Taehyung chokes on his drink. “Seriously? That’s who you eye-fucked? Out of all the guys on the basketball team, you choose the Captain Min?!”

“The who?” You say. “Ah, right. His jersey said Min. I was kinda focused on… uh, other things.”

“Okay, woman. Behave. We’re in a public place,” Taehyung reprimands you. “Also, I’m serious. He’s the one who caught your attention? Jersey number 3? Dark hair, white headband?”

“Yeah, the one listening to the coach with his tongue dragging through his teeth,” you say, eyes on the group of guys in a huddle. “Yeah, definitely him.”

The man in question seems to be listening intently but his eyes shift to you briefly and you feel that tightness somewhere - your heart, you think, and you swallow. Hard. You don’t know if he saw it but he smirks at you again so there’s a high chance he did. 

Taehyung sighs and you turn to him. 

“Why do you sound so scandalized?” You ask.

“I’m not!” He defends. “I guess I was just expecting you to like someone like number 7.”

You search for the man in question. Nice build, boyish looks. 

“Yeah, he’s cute,” you say. “But not my type.”

“Or number 1.”

Much more built. He’s like a baby giant.

“I like his dimples,” you answer. “And he looks so soft, I want to protect him.”

“There you go,” Taehyung smiles.

“But I want to be protected,” you counter. “And small build guy number 3 there looks like he will. He’s gonna scare the losers away and tell them to fuck off and then I’ll let him fu—”

“Okay, ___, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he glares at you. 

“What’s wrong though? Is he an asshole? Do people not like him?” You badger your best friend. 

“No, it’s not that. People revere him around here, actually,” Taehyung explains. ���And well, girls try to get with him but he doesn’t really pay them any mind.”

“Does he eye-fuck them? If not, then I think I’m his exception,” you argue. 

“You make a good point. So maybe I don’t need to introduce you to him. Maybe he’s just gonna introduce himself!”

“That’s not what you told me, Tae,” you frown. “You said, I point a guy and then you introduce me.”

“I didn’t think you’d choose him!”

“Hey, did he bully you in high school? Is that why? Because if it is, then screw him! No one messes with my best friend.”

“It’s not that! Everyone likes Yoongi. They just don’t wanna mess with him, including me. And I… well,” he trails. “I accidentally spilled my juice all over his notebook once and he looked at me like he wasn’t affected but that made it even scarier. And then he just never talked to me after.”

You groan in frustration. You would think that based on Taehyung’s reaction, the man is some jerk or untouchable being. He just happens to have a perpetually disinterested face and that’s honestly something you like. He seems like the type with a no-nonsense attitude and you’re quite the same. Most times, at least. There’s definitely something to explore there. 

You watch intently as he carries the ball, skillfully dribbling it and evading his opponents. He makes a smooth shot to the elation of the crowd, and unlike his teammates who grunt and make some form of over-exaggerated gesture, this man merely smirks, perhaps to himself, as he runs backwards to get to the other end of the court. It’s incredibly sexy, you think, how his seemingly quiet nature hides something a little cocky underneath, especially since he’s got something to show. You’re not the most knowledgeable at the sport but you can easily tell he’s good at it. 

“So, you’re gonna introduce me, right?” You turn to Taehyung during a timeout. 

“Uh, I think you can perfectly do that yourself,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I mean, you’re good with people.”

“Tae, you’re such a wimp. You said you’d introduce me to whoever I choose!” 

“We’re not doing this again,” he groans. “Look, we’re going to Jungkook’s place after, okay? Yoongi likes to drink after a game so he’ll definitely be there. I’ll make the guys introduce you to him. And I can’t promise anything because from what I heard, he’s never made a move on anyone and the ones who make a move on him get turned down so… good luck, I guess.”

You scowl at your best friend. This is the first time he’s ever bailed on you, considering he’s your hype man all the time. When you first entered university, you were both a bit intimidated by all the big city and international kids but he got out of his shell first and then pushed you to do the same. They bore good fruits, insofar as you enjoying yourself and then getting a boyfriend, even if it didn’t last long. 

But this isn’t your territory, even if you were raised here. There’s not much of the city that feels like home. You barely kept in touch with your high school friends, too, mostly because you spent more time at drama class, and so you don’t have control or leverage here. It also just so happens that the guy you’re interested in isn’t the friendliest even if you think he’s being a tease. You’re up for the challenge, though. 

“Well, thanks for the encouragement,” you roll your eyes. “But a guy with soft features like that doesn't look all that hard and intimidating to me. I bet he’s a softie deep down.”

“Soft features? Are we talking about the same guy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.”

“Tae, we made eye contact. It’s like a blink-and-you'll-miss-it type of softness. Or maybe you just don’t look at him long enough,” you explain. 

“I definitely don’t.”

“Well then in that case, Mr. “I don’t care about shit” might be all caring and sweet on the inside,” you hum, as you eye him again and catch him asking his teammate if he’s okay. “I’m here long enough to find out.”

Jungkook’s apartment is close to the university, in an alley near the bars and other student accommodations. It’s spacious even with his gaming computer and weights, and he’d set up the living and dining room area to accommodate the guests. You look around the place and think it’s much bigger than the one you and Taehyung share, and you know why post-game hangouts take place here. 

Your best friend said a couple of the guys from the team and a few of their friends usually come over to drink. You can tell, by the way Jungkook is the perfect host, keeping the table with snacks and drinks stacked and by the way he converses with you - charm and cheekiness combined. 

He really is cute. He’s got a sparkle in his eyes and an innocent smile, and you can tell that’s part of his appeal. But you’ve got your eyes set on someone, someone who just happens to not be here.

You look around once more and wonder where he is, and just as you’re about to ask Taehyung, the man you’ve been looking for enters. He’s in knee-ripped black jeans and an oversized cream t-shirt with a baseball cap on. You feel your throat dry immediately and your eyes follow him as he walks towards the table and opens himself a bottle of beer. 

You hear your name being called and you turn to one of the guys next to you who’s asking what you’re taking up in university. You’d forgotten about the conversation you’re in, as you immediately get sucked into the presence of jersey number 3, who’s now relaxedly leaning against the wall, looking around himself. He catches your eyes once more and you so badly want to just go up to him but you admit that you like this - him watching you from afar as you talk to someone who isn’t him. 

“I’m taking up acting and film,” you say. “I really want to become an actor.”

“Well, you have the looks for it,” Jungkook comments. 

“You think so?” You flash a smile, playing along.

“Yeah. A lot of us do,” he smirks.

A couple of the guys laugh but nod in agreement. 

Not that you intended to be flirty with these men and get their attention, but the cute top and hair scarf outfit you put on was a good idea. Even the other girls seem amused by you. You just wonder if someone else is. 

“You guys are quite charming, aren’t you?” You giggle. 

“Of course we are. This is how we welcome people in our group,” Jungkook smiles. “How long are you here for again?”

“The entire summer,” you say. “Enough time to be charmed by you?”

You aim to tease, really, especially when Jungkook blushes. You don’t actually have any intention with him but a part of you was maybe hoping that it would ignite something in the man you’re really interested in. You’d like to think so, as you turn to him again and see his hardened gaze. It’s like he’s assessing you, trying to read you. It makes you a bit exposed but you like it. Whatever this thing you’re both doing, it’s exciting, something you didn’t expect about coming home since you left for college 2 years ago.

“Oh my god, this is like watching my friends flirt with my sister,” Taehyung whines. “Please stop.”

You all laugh and he claims it’s a little awkward, but he does say he’s quite protective, warning anyone who wants to win you over. 

You all go back to chatting around until Jungkook, like the good host that he is, announces that it’s time to play and get batshit drunk. 

You all gather around in the middle and play number games, something you’re good at. You mostly survive, needing only to take 3 shots that don’t really make a dent in your system. Then you play a card game, which you also do well in, and it gets the group cheering for you to your delight. 

You constantly look towards the couch where Yoongi stays, as he’s the only person who doesn’t join the games. Taehyung says the man isn’t into them and no one really forces him. You see the times he smirks though, especially whenever you survive. You'd like to think he’s secretly cheering you on and it oddly makes your heart race. For all the eye-fucking, the milliseconds where his look softens gets you feeling all giddy. 

By the 6th game, some of the guys have loosened up more than the others. They’re laughing more, teasing more, flirting with you a little more directly, and they’re at least funny and not that disrespectful. You laugh and tease along and you really could go on doing more of these games, until Jungkook suggests to play spin-the-bottle. 

The rules are simple - one person spins the bottle and whoever it lands on will be the one they’ll kiss. 

“We’re too old for this,” Namjoon claims, even as he sits himself in the circle you all form.

“We never are,” Jungkook chuckles. “Plus, we’ve got a good number of guys and girls in here,” he says. “It’ll be fun.”

You take your seat on the circle right next to Taehyung and you look over at the couch again, biting your lip and cocking your eyebrow this time, as if daring Yoongi to join, given that the guys say that he absolutely hates participating in this.

Not tonight apparently, as he walks over and nudges Namjoon with his foot. 

“Oh, so now you’re playing?” The big man laughs. “I wonder what made you decide to finally join us.”

Yoongi sits down across from you, unbothered once more. 

He just shrugs. “I was getting bored watching you guys be terrible at the games.”

The group laughs before they begin. Of all the nights when you wish the spin-the-bottle gods were on your side, you wish it was tonight. 

The bottle thankfully misses you for the first 4 times. When it’s your turn, you position it in the direction that you mentally calculated would land on Yoongi with the force you put in. 

It’s quite nerve wracking, not knowing if this would work, but as the bottle slows down and the desire for it to point towards him heightens, you start to think that if this fails, you’re gonna have to just survive it and then find another way to get your chance at kissing him. 

And then it stops. Right in between him and Namjoon. Your heart breaks a little as you compare the distance, especially as the other people whisper the name of the man it’s pointed towards. 

“Hmm,” Taehyung says, “the bottle’s closer to—”

“Me,” Yoongi says, surprising everyone. “The bottle’s closer to me.”

His eyes are locked on you and no one dares to challenge the man, especially with how firm he sounds as he claims himself as the chosen one.

“By all means, go ahead and kiss, then,” Jungkook states, surprise and amusement laced on his face.

Yoongi, instead of scooting to the middle like everyone had done, stands up and reaches out for your hand. You take it and come face to face with him - finally, and you’re speechless as you stare back at him. There’s this certainty and desire in his eyes, you’d like to think. It’s captivating and it’s making you feel hot and definitely turned on. 

“Do you mind doing it in the kitchen?” He asks you. “I don’t really want them to have a front row view.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, trying to sound calm. 

He takes your hand again and walks ahead to the kitchen nearby. You’re still visible but like he wanted, there’s enough distance for the others not to have a close up look of your kiss. 

Yoongi leads you to stand by the counter, finally able to get a clear look at you. He’s been wanting this since hours ago and he couldn’t wait to get the chance to get you alone. You’ve been surrounded by all the guys since he arrived and well, he doesn’t blame them. You’re stunning and charming and you have this sparkle in your eyes when you talk about acting. He’d had enough of just watching from the couch and catching your eyes because yes, he’d noticed you glance at him and he liked that, liked that even if you had everyone else’s attention, you seemed to only want to get his. 

He honestly hates this game. It got him in precarious situations the few times that he indulged the guys by playing and at one point, he just stopped joining. He couldn’t pass up on this, though, not when there’d be a chance to kiss you. If you didn’t get paired up together, he’d still find a way. But he didn’t want anyone else to have the chance, so he took his. And well, maybe sort of cheated.

“So…” you start. “The bottle was definitely closer to Namjoon, you know? Anyone could tell.”

“I know,” he hums. “I could tell you wanted it to be me, though. And I really wanted it to be me.”

“Well in that case, what are you waiting for? Seems like the audience is getting impatient,” you giggle, prompting him to turn towards the living room where the entire group is anxiously anticipating when you’d both just make out. 

“I don’t really care about them,” he says, walking closer to you then caging you by the counter. “I mean, I was hoping this wouldn’t be a quick one.”

Your thighs clench in reflex. He still has a bit of that teasing smirk on but he also looks quite serious, as if there’s a chance you’d turn him down, as if you haven’t been gazing at each other since the game. 

Licking then biting your lips, you smile. “I don’t do quick kisses.”

“That’s good,” he smiles now, eyeing your lips. “Neither do I.”

He dives in right away and your eyes close the moment you feel his lips against yours, soft and electrifying as you expected. He starts slowly, loosely, giving you a chance to pull away if you want. But you don’t, craving for him instead as you try to keep him against you longer. 

It becomes his cue to deepen the kiss and that’s when you feel the warmth of his breath and then, the warmth of his tongue, seeking entrance that you too quickly give. You feel him smile against you and you fall into it even more. Lips melding onto his, you savor every bit of him that you can taste. There’s bitterness from the beer but it’s a taste you could easily be addicted to. It’s him, after all, and he’s just as good as you imagined. 

It’s a little daring for you, you could admit that. You’ve gone to parties and flirted around, kissed guys for fun and then walked away. You’ve never made out with someone right as you met them, though, and especially without even getting a proper conversation in. But Yoongi is captivating in a lot of ways and the way he tastes definitely doesn’t disappoint.

Just as you’re about to think of other things that would definitely make you even wetter, you feel his hand cup your cheek and he keeps it there, not so much to direct you where he wants but… to caress you, to savor you, especially as he keeps his steady pace.

He’s not rushing. He’s not asking for more, as his other hand remains clenched on the counter and his hip remains distanced from yours. He’s just going, feeling all that he can feel with this kiss and humming his satisfaction. 

It’s your hands that can’t control themselves, as you grip his shirt and try to get him closer. 

He does, but only for a while. 

He pulls away and watches you open your eyes. There’s only a hint of disappointment in them. Perhaps like him, you just let yourself enjoy that moment. And it was a damn good one. You tasted sweet from the cocktail you had and there’s this comfort in the way your lips feltl against his. It’s quite addictive, and he applauds himself for not pushing to do more. 

He thumbs your cheek one last time before his hand descends to cover yours that’s now gripping the counter. 

“I’m Yoongi, by the way,” he smiles. 

You burst in laughter and your head leans on his chest. 

Cute, he thinks. 

“And I’m ___,” you reply. “It’s nice to meet you. Finally.”

“You’ve been waiting for this, huh?” He cocks an eyebrow.

If this were any other cocky, self-absorbed guy, you wouldn’t indulge him. But that kiss alone told you that this man is so gentle, and you’d quite like to be a little vulnerable with him. 

“Embarrassingly, I have. I saw you at the game and thought you were pretty hot,” you chuckle. “I asked Tae to introduce me to you.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums. “You wanna know what’s embarrassing? I saw you in the crowd and I couldn’t look away. I got hit by the ball because I didn’t hear my teammate calling me.”

The way your cheeks warm is immediate. How can he turn you on and then make you feel all giddy? 

“That’s… pretty cute,” you giggle. “And not embarrassing at all.”

“I’d still prefer it if you don’t tell anyone.”

“Not a single soul,” you promise, smiling cheekily.

God, he’s so weak for your smile. How did he go about all 21 years of his life without this? 

“Are you done?!” Jungkook yells from the other room. “We’ve been waiting on what’s gonna happen after you two made out like you’re the only ones in this place.”

The laughter tells you they’re just teasing. 

“Well, we didn’t ask you to wait,” Yoongi turns back to tell them. “We could’ve gone on much longer.”

He turns to you questioningly. “If you want.”

“That’s an option,” you chuckle. “Or we can get out of here and figure it out?”

“Anything in mind?” He asks, standing up straight now. 

You want to kiss him and straddle him and tear his shirt off and so much more. But you decide you want to start with the gentleness first. You think that if you look long enough, you’ll see it behind the nonchalance and unreadable expressions. Somehow you just know that whether it’s daring things like kissing an almost-stranger or talking about anything or gazing at each other’s eyes, Yoongi would be up for it. You’re here for the summer and you have time. And you definitely want to take your time with this one. 

“Would you like to grab some coffee?” You look up at him, hoping he’s thinking the same.

“Just coffee?” He teasingly smiles.

“Yes, Yoongi. Just coffee.”

He nods and takes your hand. He walks with you to the living room where everyone is staring at both of you with a mix of shock and amusement. No one looks disappointed, though, and even Taehyung is wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“We’re going to a cafe,” Yoongi announces. “And for the record, this is the last time I’m ever playing this game.”

Series Masterlist

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[thefirsthogokage]

Ok, so if anyone, like me, has been wondering when other contracts are up, here ya go:

In the tweet (Which QTs a shot of a large group of people from different unions in LA who's contracts are up soon that came together yesterday (I think)), Justine Bateman says these are the expiration dates:

SAG (Screen Actors Guild) June 30

DGA (Directors Guild of America) June 30

Local 11 (hotel, event, sports arenas, conventions workers) June 30

UPS (United Postal Service, not the same as USPS which is the government mail delivery service) July 31

So, yeah. I'm hoping the DGA woke up with that MAX bullshit about lumping in all writers and directors under the label of "creators". Apparently, that went against the WGA and DGA contracts which have explicit rules about crediting writers in directors (which I'm pretty sure it says in one or two of those tweets in the post I linked in the last sentence).

I fully anticipate with how active Local 11 has been walking with WGA, and other unions, that they are certainly prepared to strike too.

(link to first tweet) (link to second tweet)

And in the video in this tweet, and this tweet, you can see them flying two different flags of their union while marching with a whole of various union members. They are at least 20k members strong. That would do so much damage to the hotels there, and could effect actors, crew, and creative team members that come from out of town for work. Not to mention a whole lot of other people, of course.

Apparently, a hotel housekeeper has to work 17 hours a day to afford a two bedroom apartment in the city. Geezus.

Also, I would think UPS has been poised to strike for a while, considering how bad they have it on their trucks alone, from what I remember.

[milkyfederation]

Violence as entertainment sadly seems to be universal, since battle arenas are a common sight in space. The Milky Federation has, of course, outlawed these brutish displays, but in some places outside its jurisdicion they not only exist, but have become a cultural phenomena.

For instance, Rand Conglomerate presents King Zavier Colosseum 's fights are one of the most watched sports in Mars, and they even have some fans in the Federation.

In them, hyper modified specimens in weird clothes and excentric personas seemingly fight to the death for victory.

Seemingly? Yes, in actuality it is staged and acted, their modified bodies do not actually fall when they're stabbed and graphically torn apart live. So when your favourite character dies, there's still a chance they'll come back next season with a new arm and a bloody revenge arc against whoever stole their title.

So yeah, basically gladiator wrestling. It's a joke that's been done a lot, but I still enjoy it, and I always like the Space Colosseum trope. I just wanted to draw buff alien fighters.

Here we have a martian woman who's been in the sport for years, and has died a bunch.

A young Neocropolitan upstart, he's the city's big new investment, and they're bribing the writers for him to win everything.

Teed the Creep is a mussossian with a villain persona who uses human audience's myths.

This smug and preppy liloquian is a villain character meant to represent the MF.

A member of a mechanical hive-mind species who wears a mech suit to fight in the arena, even artificial beings can join in the bloodshed!

Rock "Crabhammer" Lobstah doesn't use weapons or armor, their natural defences and modified hyper claw are enough for him.

The big guy is the current champion, so far they have never been beaten, will they follow the disgraceful plotline of the young Neocropolitan taking their title, or will they improvise and beat him into a pulp live?

This joke character is The Janitor, he appears after battles and cleans the blood, everyone loves him. No better way to make the audience hate a character than making them kill The Janitor while they're working.

The half robot half human guy has been in the business for a loooong time, he refuses to quit no matter how many times he dies.

I appear to have invented a triple swords wielding tentacle alien.

I'm not that satisfied with this piece, this last week I was sick and it's been pretty shitty. At the end there I just wanted to get it done, don't zoom in too close, like, anywhere. It was too ambitious, but I'm happy I did it.

[campgender]

from “Meet Me Tonight” by Maggie Cee in Because the Boss Belongs to Us: Queer Femmes on Bruce Springsteen (March 2011). available on the Queer Zine Archive Project (link)

image description: pages 13 & 14 of a zine with a black and white map as the background. squares of text pasted over the map read:

[…] show at the Garden. We meet at some awful sports bar across from North Station, me, Dad, and the guy with tickets, who is also named Mike. I never have to sit in my nosebleed seat because Dad, who somehow in this loud arena is charming and confident, finds an empty seat near his on the bottom tier.

The bar is packed and playing nonstop Springsteen. The men look like rougher, hipper versions of Dad, but the women, with their highlights and shiny lace camis under leatherjackets, look nothing like my mother, who favors polar fleece and cotton. It is the whitest, straightest crowd I've been part of in a long time.

Tell me, little girl, is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone? Tell me, baby, Is he good to you, can he do to you the things that I do? the speakers blare.

Stumbling for conversation, I mention that my roommate has a recording of a lesbian punk band coverlng "I'm On Fire." And that's when it happens, the one and only time my father has uttered the word "butch" in my presence. "That's a creepy song. And it would be even creepier in a butch version." l have no way to respond, no language that is remotely appropriate that I could use to deflect the idea that butch is creepy, no way to tell my Irish Catholic father that a song that may be about prostitution or incest or plain old "creepiness" also echoes my deepest fantasies.

The boundaries we keep with our parents are there for a reason. But I have no trouble telling you that I want to be the girl you wake up thinking about, the girl who can cool your desires.

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my soul At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet and a freight train running through the middle of my head.

We inherit, we long to escape, we get out, because we have to, dreaming is not enough. And we create our sexuality out of refracted reflections and bits of longing. It’s a long ride from this queer co-op apartment to Atlantic City, but hang on, baby, I'll meet you there.

end image description.

[louisupdates]

FITFWT23: OUTRO SONGS

NORTH AMERICA

26 May - Mohegan Sun Arena, UNCASVILLE CT: The Best, by Tina Turner

27 May - Bank of New Hampshire Pavilion, GUILFORD NH: This Charming Man, by The Smiths

29 May - Place Bell, LAVAL QC: Downtown, by Petula Clark

30 May - Budweiser Stage, TORONTO ON: Summer of 69, by Bryan Adams

1 Jun - Blossom Music Center, CUYAHOGA FALLS, OH: Bittersweet Symphony, by Verve

2 Jun - Michigan Lottery Amphitheater, STERLING HEIGHTS, MI: Chasing Rainbows, by Shed Seven

3 Jun - The Icon Festival Stage, CINCINNATI: All These Things That I’ve Done, by The Killers

6 Jun - Kemba Live! Outdoor, COLUMBUS OH: The One I Love, by REM

7 Jun - TCU Amphitheater at White River State Park, INDIANAPOLIS: Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division

9 Jun - Saint Louis Music Park, SAINT LOUIS: Johnny B. Goode, by Chuck Berry

10 Jun - Starlight Theatre, KANSAS CITY MO: Moondance, by Van Morrison

13 Jun - BMO Pavilion, MILWAUKEE: I Can See Clearly Now, by Johnny Nash

15 Jun - Huntington Bank Pavilion, CHICAGO: September, by Earth, Wind, and Fire

16 Jun - The Armory, MINNEAPOLIS: Nothing Compares 2 U, by Sinéad O’Connor

17 Jun - Harrah’s Stir Cove, COUNCIL BLUFFS, IA: Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?) by Buzzcocks

19 Jun - Denny Sanford Premiere Center, SIOUX FALLS, SD: American Pie, by Don McLean

21 Jun - Red Rocks Amphitheatre, MORRISON, CO 😪

24 Jun - Wamu Theater, SEATTLE: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out, by The Smiths

26 Jun - Doug Mitchell Thunderbird Sports Center, VANCOUVER BC: King Of Pain, by The Police

27 Jun - Mcmenamins Edgefield Concerts, TROUTDALE OR: Always On My Mind, by Elvis Presley

29 Jun - The Greek Theatre, BERKELEY CA: Never Tear Us Apart, by INXS

30 Jun - The Hollywood Bowl, LOS ANGELES: California Love by 2Pac ft Dr. Dre & Roger Troutman

1 Jul - The Chelsea at the Cosmopolitan, LAS VEGAS: Human, by The Killers

3 Jul - Arizona Financial Theatre, PHOENIX: Liberator, by Spear of Destiny

6 Jul - The Pavilion at Toyota Music Factory, IRVING TX: Hello, I Love You, by The Doors

7 Jul - Moody Amphitheater at Waterloo Park, AUSTIN TX: Teenage Dirtbag, by Wheatus

8 Jul - The Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion, THE WOODLANDS TX: Walking On The Moon, by The Police

11 Jul - St. Augustine Amphitheatre, ST. AUGUSTINE FL: Every Breath You Take, by The Police

13 Jul - Hard Rock Live at Seminole Hard Rock Hollywood, HOLLYWOOD FL: Your Song, by Elton John

14 Jul - Yuengling Center, TAMPA FL: Hit Me With Your Best Shot, by Pat Benatar

15 Jul - Cadence Bank Amphitheatre at Chastain Park, ATLANTA: You Can’t Always Get What You Want, by The Rolling Stones

18 Jul - Ascend Amphitheater, NASHVILLE: Hold Back The Rain, by Duran Duran

19 Jul - Charlotte Metro Credit Union Amphitheatre, CHARLOTTE NC: Perfect Day, by Lou Reed

21 Jul - Red Hat Amphitheater, RALEIGH NC: Moondance, by Van Morrison

22 Jul - Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia MD: Easy, by The Commodores

24 Jul - MGM Music Hall at Fenway, BOSTON: More Than A Feeling, by Boston

25 Jul - MGM Music Hall at Fenway, BOSTON: Here Comes Your Man, by The Pixies

27 Jul - TD Pavilion at the Mann, PHILADELPHIA: Nothing Compares 2 U, by Sinead O’Connor

28 Jul - Stone Pony Summer Stage, ASBURY PARK NJ: Dancing In The Dark, by Bruce Springsteen

29 Jul - Forrest Hills Stadium, NEW YORK: We Are The Champions, by Queen

Away From Home Festival 2023

19 Aug - Parco BussolaDomani, Lido di Camaiore: We Are The Champions, by Queen

EUROPE

29 Aug - Barclays Arena, HAMBURG: Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division

31 Aug - Royal Arena, COPENHAGEN: Under Pressure, by Queen and David Bowie

1 Sep - Spektrum, OSLO: Wake Me Up When September Ends, by Green Day

2 Sep - Hovet, STOCKHOLM: Seven Nation Army, by White Stripes

4 Sep - Ice Hall, HELSINKI: Always On My Mind, by Elvis

5 Sep - Saku Arena, TAILLINN: All Star, by Smash Mouth

7 Sep - Arena Riga, RIGA: Thuderstruck, by AC/DC

8 Sep - Zalgiris Arena, KAUNAS: Can’t Help Falling In Love, by Elvis [Zouis this day]

10 Sep - Tauron Arena, KRAKOW: Lust For Life, by Iggy Pop

11 Sep - Atlas Arena, ŁÓDŹ: Blitzkreig Bop, by the Ramones

13 Sep - Wiener Stadhalle D, VIENNA: Supersonic, by Oasis

14 Sep - Stozice Arena, LJUBLJANA: Smile Like You Meant It, by The Killers

15 Sep - Budapest Arena, BUDAPEST: Helicopter, by Bloc Party

17 Sep - Arenele Romane, BUCHAREST: My Hero, by Foo Fighters

18 Sep - Arena Armeets, SOFIA: Bombtrack, by Rage Against The Machine

20 Sep - Petras Theater, ATHENS: Go With The Flow, by Queens of the Stone Age

1 Oct - Bilbao Arena Miribilla, BILBAO (VIZCAYA): Where Is My Mind, by The Pixies

3 Oct - Altice Arena, LISBON: Farewell To The Fairground, by White Lies

5 Oct - Wizink Center, MADRID: Munich, by Editors

6 Oct - Palau Sant Jordi, BARCELONA: One Armed Scissor, by At the Drive-In

8 Oct - Pala Alpitur, TURIN: Are You Gonna Go My Way, by Lenny Kravitz

9 Oct - Unipol Arena, BOLOGNA: Helicopter, by Bloc Party

11 Oct - Rockhal, ESCH-SUR-ALZETTE: Where Is My Mind, by The Pixies

12 Oct - Sportspaleis, ANTWERP: My God Is The Sun, by Queens Of The Stone Age [very self-aware choice]

14 Oct - Accor Arena, PARIS : Bubbles, by Biffy Clyro

15 Oct - Ziggo Dome, AMSTERDAM: Song 2, by Blur

17 Oct - Lanxess Arena, COLOGNE: Can't Stand Me Now, by The Libertines

19 Oct - O2 Arena, PRAGUE: Are You Gonna Be My Girl, by Jet

20 Oct - Mercedes Benz Arena, BERLIN: Friday I’m In Love, by The Cure

22 Oct - Olympiahalle, MUNICH: Praise You, by Fatboy Slim

23 Oct - Hallenstadion, ZURICH: Last Nite, by The Strokes

8 Nov - 3Arena, DUBLIN: These Are The Days, by Inhaler

10 Nov - Utilita Arena, SHEFFIELD: Mr. Brightside, by The Killers

11 Nov - AO Arena, MANCHESTER: This Charming Man, by The Smiths

12 Nov - Ovo Hydro, GLASGOW: Gloria, by The Snuts

14 Nov - Brighton Center, BRIGHTON: I Wanna Be Sedated, by Ramones

15 Nov - International Arena, CARDIFF: 20th Century Boy, by T-Rex

17 Nov - The O2, LONDON: Can’t Stand Me Now, by The Libertines

18 Nov - Resorts World Arena, BIRMINGHAM: Till The End Of The Road, by Boyz II Men

You can also find the list at this Twitter account: ltwtoutros.

[glimmrhomes]

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[moki-dokie]

Already posted this on twitter but tumblr tends to be a better place for this sort of thing. so. just basically gonna copy-paste the qt I did for this.

so, interesting thing that i feel is a prime example of why this "problem" is utterly made up bullshit capitalist propaganda.

back in the 90s, OKC was essentially dying. downtown was one of the worst in the nation. gang infested, falling apart, roads not only in severe disrepair but very poorly planned, and utterly reliant on offices nobody wanted to work in for good reason. it was BAD. (edit: also the 1980s recession hit here especially hard so it was suffering in general from the fallout of that, too.)

enter the MAPS program. a 66 month long temp raise on sales taxes to completely revitalize, restructure, and rebuild our downtown from the ground up. nothing like this had ever been done before in the nation, not on this scale. and keep in mind OK has notoriously been very red.

this was a bipartisan project (and continues to be still) and believe it or not got some of the most support during republican rule. i don't think there's ever been a project proposal before or since that received such outstanding support by voters either. everyone wanted it.

with MAPS our downtown got a convention center, music hall, trolley system, baseball stadium, library, arena, new streets, and like 3 miles of river dammed and moved to create a canal and set the foundation for future projects on the river itself.

by the 2000s, downtown was completely transformed. MAPS was so successful that another one was proposed and passed. And then 2 more.

since the original MAPS, theres been new parks added, river sports, cultural centers, hiking/walking trails, more street upgrades, a senior wellness center, state fair improvements, public transit upgrades, and too many infrastructure improvements to name.

OKC is now a contender to other major attractive downtowns in the nation. it is now a place you WANT to go. we got our own NBA team now that shaped some of the best in the league currently. it's one of the few walkable areas in the whole state too. its honestly beautiful.

point is, we got here by adding enrichment, art, entertainment, and public spaces. not more offices. not more soulless cooperations. not more industry. those were the problem, getting rid of them and replacing them with ways to improve happiness and community was the solution.

and we did it in one of the most socialist ways possible. in one of the reddest states in the nation. if your downtown is dying bc nobody wants to return to offices, then your downtown was dead already to begin with. work should not be the reason a downtown thrives.

so don't believe the capitalist propaganda for a single second. we have 30 years of evidence right here in OKC to prove that shit wrong at every turn. and any politician who spouts that rhetoric is 100% bought and paid for by some major corp.

anyway MAPS is really cool and everyone should read up on it https://okc.gov/government/maps-3/maps-history and advocate for similar projects like it in your own metro. if one of the poorest, most conservative and oft forgotten about places in the nation can do it, any city can.

and PS: all of this was happening at the same time as the Murrah bombing recovery - at the time the largest domestic terrorist attack in the nation. so like. there really is no excuse for a city to allow their downtown to die other than politicians licking the boots of big corps.

PPS: the newest MAPS was just passed a couple of years ago and is the largest one of them yet. we'll be getting more parks, a youth center, another senior center, a mental health and addiction facility, more public transit, more upgrades to streets, a new animal shelter, additions to the state fairgrounds, a civil rights center, lots of beautification, a multipurpose stadium, and three pretty fucking amazing projects that are worth going into more detail about. A family justice center - a temporary one exists but this one will be permanent. this is a really fucking cool place that helps victims of sexual assault, human trafficking, elder abuse, domestic violence, and children who've been through traumatic situations. a diversion center - this will essentially be a way to get people out of the prison system and back into society. it's for low-level, non-violent offenders that really shouldn't have landed in prison in the first place. our prisons are fucked around here, and so extremely overcrowded. I'm sure that could be said for most around the nation. this is more like rehabilitation and its really awesome to see. and lastly, a wholeass chunk dedicated to fighting homelessness - the first time this has really, truly been addressed with logical solutions. i gotta give big fuckin kudos to everyone involved on this one - its something they discussed openly with citizens, something they asked for suggestions about, something they've wanted to solve rather than just hide and needed the public's help to figure that out. the goal is to completely eradicate it by shifting focus to a housing-first program, create truly affordable housing (of which there is an extreme lack of in the heart of OKC), and offer services at every step of the way to make sure once a person is housed, they are able to also support themselves and stay housed. with $50mil from MAPS and $400mil from outside sources, this will be the largest of any of the projects to date and I am SO thrilled about it.

[thinkrp]

today's preview is a more introspective look at the larger of our two locations - remington, georgia. while it has the glitz and glamour that sable grove could never aspire to, there are some who can't stand the hustle and bustle of someplace that always seems to be in motion. take a peek under the cut for it's full history alongside the six neighborhoods waiting within. if you have any questions, you know where to find us!

✨ explore remington, ga ✨

the city of remington was founded in late 1829 during the georgia gold rush. it was a larger settlement for the prospectors that used to travel to sable grove to strike it rich. today, it is a thriving metropolis home to such prominent tourist attractions such as the great rapids amusement park, the barlowe botanical gardens, and distillery drive. it is also home to remington university and the official home of nfl team the remington prospectors, nhl team the remington gold hawks, and the mlb team the remington 29ers. remington is also known to be a festival city during the summers, hosting events such as the taste of remington and the street buskers festival. to the world, remington seems like a city of promise, however, if you look a little closer you’ll see dilapidated buildings with graffiti protesting the oppressive hold of corporations, you’ll see broken swing sets in seedy neighborhoods, and you might just be able to see deals being made on street corners. remington proves that even the shiniest of exteriors can have the grimiest of secrets lurking within.

barlowe reef

population - 20660 | price point - $$$ to $$$$

home to the barlowe botanical gardens and the great rapids amusement park, the neighborhood of barlowe is known as a tourist haven. the northernmost peak of remington, you’ll also have access to the barlowe bridge which connects remington and sable grove across bennington bay. it also houses the shorefront which showcases the pier and harbor. housing in the area is middle tier and largely populated with airbnbs and hotels.

camden

population - 17486 | price point - $$$ to $$$$$

camden is a historic part of remington that was once lined with bootleggers and secret speakeasies between the 1920s to the 1930s. now, it is widely known as the fine arts and cultural district. it is home to the remington art gallery and theatre alley which is home to the remington ballet company, the remington philharmonic, and the remington players. it is also home to jazz clubs, piano bars, and of course your good ol’ country music bars. some casting agencies, modeling agencies, and production companies also call camden home. the neighborhood also has a series of small man-made parks and trails that are a runner’s paradise. this area houses a lot of trendy apartment buildings, brownstones, and houses with old world charm that tend to be perfect for those in the middle-income or higher income brackets.

crestmont

population - 10576 | price point - $$$$ to $$$$$

crestmont is remington’s financial and governmental neighborhood. you’ll find city hall which houses city council offices, the mayor’s office, and all the major courthouses. it is also home to the remington police department and the sheriff's station. crestmont also has easy access to remington memorial hospital and the remington firehouse. around the corner from city hall is market street which is home to well known financial institutions, major real estate developers, and also larger tech and entertainment-focused companies. homes in this area are relatively pretty expensive and swanky and feature penthouses, brownstones, and luxury apartments.

cromwell

population - 14177 | price point - $$$ to $$$$$

cromwell is perhaps one of the busiest neighborhoods in remington featuring all the major sports arenas and stadiums as well as the larger concert venues. it is home to palladium square which is full to the brim with street performers and buskers. during the weekends, there is a large farmer’s market and craft and book fairs. it is also a hop skip and jump from remington public library and cromwell park. due to its resemblance to many popular cities, cromwell is a popular filming location. you’ll find mid-tier to high-tier housing in the area, and it is home to many families with young children.

snakeleaf

population - 20101 | price point - $ to $$$

back in the 1800s, the snakeleaf area used to be swampy marshy lands where only the underlings of the city used to congregate. it still maintains its “seedy” reputation with its collection of motels and other shady businesses. unlike the rest of the city, the snakeleaf area is not prim and pristine. however, some would argue that this is where the real deals in the city happen and not in crestmont or cromwell. the main highlight of this area is the abandoned shoe factory which is a popular venue for raves, outlandish parties, and general debauchery that is rented by more elite hands than you would think to imagine. housing is cheap here, but it comes at the cost of your safety and sanity, quite frankly.

yearwood

population - 30000 | price point - $ to $$$

yearwood widely known as the education district, yearwood is home to remington university spanning ten whole city blocks. around the corner from remington university, you’ll also find the yearwood mall and tucked in a corner is distillery drive which features bars, clubs, taverns, cafes, and restaurants that are popular with students, remington residents, and tourists alike. at the end of distillery drive, you’ll find the wall, a skate park with a massive brick wall that is frequently tagged with graffiti, murals, and messages. housing in this area is relatively cheap and largely occupied by students or early career professionals.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 7)

previous // next // story index

__________

The Brindleton Bay Arena is the second-largest arena in the city. It's designated as a multi-sport facility, and that's technically accurate, but it's most commonly known for being the home of the Brindleton Bay Skating Club. It has three ice surfaces; a large main rink with seating for just over four thousand spectators, and two other regulation-sized ice surfaces with enough bench seating around them for about three hundred people each. The main rink is used for minor hockey and for public recreational skating as well as for figure skating, but the two smaller rinks are usually reserved for group skating classes and for the competitive skaters to practice on.

The only arena in town that's larger and more well known than this one is Seaport Place, where the Brindleton Bay Mariners hockey team practices and plays. Nikolai likes hockey. He enjoys attending Mariners home games whenever he can, and he likes the huge, bright and modern environment of Seaport Place. He's even competed there a few times, in events that anticipated far more spectators than the Brindleton Bay Arena could accommodate. He recalls the year Skate Canada was hosted there. That had been a proud moment for the city, and Nikolai had loved performing for the hometown crowd.

But, as beautiful and prestigious as Seaport Place is, it doesn't hold space in Nikolai’s heart like the old Brindleton Bay Arena does. This building is practically a second home to him.

At least it was.

Stepping through the doors of the arena with Beth-Anne doesn’t feel like the homecoming he imagined. It’s awkward and strange, and he thinks the sentiment is similar to that of two old friends who’ve drifted apart, inadvertently meeting on the street one day and realizing just how much each of them has changed. It’s true he hasn’t been away from the rink that long, only slightly more than a month, but being here now feels like he’s crossed into a parallel dimension. It’s as if the pocket universe inside the arena has altered itself just enough so that he’s no longer included in its timeline, as if he'd never existed here as a skater at all.

He feels like he's trespassing. He can’t come in here without his skates and without a scheduled ice time. He needs a reason, a purpose.

He stops walking, but he’s unaware of it until Beth-Anne is several strides ahead. She pauses, and looks over her shoulder at him.

"Nikolai, are you okay?" she asks.

He feels sick, and he almost tells her he wants to leave, but he scrapes together the shreds of his courage and says, "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Beth-Anne returns to his side and rests her hand on his forearm. "We're doing this at your pace, remember."

He swallows several times. It's one of his nervous habits, and he knows Beth-Anne will recognize it, but nevertheless he repeats, "No, I'm okay. It's just... weird. Coming here feels weird."

"I know," she says. "The first time I came here after I stopped competing felt weird to me too. Probably an understatement to say it was weird, actually. I never darkened the doorway of this place for over four years, and I had no intention of ever coming back, but Stan talked me into it. You know how he is when he gets onto an idea."

Nikolai manages a little smile. "Yeah. People don't really say no to Uncle Stan, do they?"

"Not if they know what's good for them," Beth-Anne says. She grins at him. "Or unless they're you. You're the reason he called me, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He couldn't handle you. Said you walked all over him."

"He likes me," Nikolai says. "I don't think it was so much that I said no to him, but that he couldn't bring himself to say no to me."

"A little of Column A and a little of Column B, I think," says Beth-Anne. "Anyway, he said you needed someone who'd love you and let you have fun, but who'd encourage you to focus and who wouldn't let you get away with your usual shit. For some reason, he thought of me, and he pretty much just told me to show up at a certain day and time."

'I remember that day."

"Me too. I felt like I was going to puke my guts out the second I came through the door, I was that nervous.”

"You didn't seem nervous."

"Because I'm good at bullshitting my way through situations," she says. “But, you know what? I’m glad I showed up, even though I was scared as hell. That was one of the best risks I ever took, and look what came out of it. Stan said you were special, and he wasn’t wrong.”

“Stan said I was special?”

“He did.”

“He never told me that. He usually said I was a huge pain in the ass.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive states of being.” She arches an eyebrow, amused. “You are a huge pain in the ass sometimes, but I love you and you’re worth the trouble. And you are special.”

“Thanks,” he says. “I love you too, but you probably already know that.”

“Yeah, but what do I always say? Never miss an opportunity to tell someone you love them.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, just so you know, I calmed down once I was here for a while on that first day. Being with people I love and doing something that makes me happy made a difference." She gives his arm a light, reassuring squeeze. "It does get easier, I promise."

"I trust you," he says, because he does. It's hard to believe it'll get easier, but if Beth-Anne says it will, then he can at least accept the possibility.

"You're not alone. You don't have to do any of this by yourself."

"I know," he says. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. Now, do you think you're ready to keep going?"

He's not entirely certain he's ready, but he nods his affirmation. "Yeah. Let's do this."

He follows her through the foyer and down the corridor that leads to one of the practice ice surfaces. Part of the wall is constructed of shatterproof glass, and he can see three small children already on the ice and several adults seated on the benches.

Preschool group class.

He was part of a preschool group class once himself, although he only has the vaguest recollection of it. His most solid early memories of skating are from when he was about nine years old, practising at his old club and competing in local pre-Novice events. He hadn't done very well, and his teacher at the time had told his parents that he probably wouldn't still be skating past the age of ten or eleven.

His parents had taken that pronouncement at face value, and his father had broken it to him as delicately as he was able. Nikolai, however, was not ready to give up on his dream. He remembers running to his grandfather and sobbing in his arms while trying to relate the awful news.

Grandpa had understood the problem.

"Kolya, I want to tell you two very important things," he'd said. "The first is that not everyone can be good at the things they love, and I want you to understand, that's okay. But, the second thing is that no one should ever quit doing what they love just because someone else thinks they should. If you want to be a skater, then you should keep skating. Maybe you won't be good at it or maybe you'll be a world champion some day, but if you stop now, you'll never know."

"But, what about Papa and Mama?" he'd asked. "Papa said—"

"Never mind what he said. I'll talk to your parents," Grandpa had assured him. "And never mind that teacher, either. We'll look for someone who knows what they’re talking about. Someone who knows whether you've got real potential or not."

Making good on his word, Grandpa had more or less taken over supervising Nikolai's skating career after that. He found another coach, one who did indeed give an honest answer about Nikolai's potential. She was of the view that Nikolai wasn't doing well because he didn't get the individual attention he needed in group classes and was essentially being held back by everybody else. She agreed to take him on as an individual student, and by the time he entered the Novice division the following year and started competing seriously, he surprised everyone by winning a silver medal in his very first competition.

That was the day Grandpa gave him Champion the teddy bear. He'd tapped the little plastic gold medal around the bear's neck and told him, "Some day you'll have a real one of these, Kolya. A real gold medal, and I'm going to be right there to see it happen."

And he was. Grandpa was there for every competition for his entire time in Novice, travelling with him and Allison, his coach, to various parts of the country. He'd seen quite a lot of Nikolai's Junior division competitions too.

Then, when Nikolai was sixteen, the whole family had moved here to Brindleton Bay. The move was ostensibly for Grandpa's work, but it wasn't lost on Nikolai that Grandpa had made contact with the one and only Stanislav Kovac and somehow convinced him to be Nikolai's coach. Stan coached him for a year, and then Beth-Anne came along.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Maybe, he tells himself, it'll be the same with coaching as it was with his competitive career. He doesn't know if coaching is what he wants to do long-term or if he'll have any aptitude for teaching, but he won't have the answer to either of those questions until he makes the attempt. And Beth-Anne will be with him, just like always. Grandpa too, he realizes, and suddenly finds he can hardly wait to tell his grandfather about this latest development, as undefined as it is.

He's going to watch those preschoolers with all the attention he can muster.

Nikolai is busy coming up with basic skills he might look for in the little skaters as he and Beth-Anne approach the the entrance to the practice rink. They're only half a dozen steps away when the door swings open and someone dashes through it with a shout of, "Nikolai Pavlenko!"

The young woman runs straight toward Nikolai and flings herself at him so forcefully that Nikolai has to drop his crutches in order to catch her. He lets out an inelegant grunt as he's forced to put weight on his injured leg, but he stays upright, and that's something.

"Nikolai! Oh my God!" the girl exclaims. "You're okay! Uncle Stan said you were in the hospital, and we were all literally freaking out. I'm so happy you're all right and..." she interrupts herself with a squeal of joy, and squishes him in an exuberant embrace. "I missed you!"

It's difficult not to respond to such an enthusiastic welcome, and he smiles. "Hi, Mariah. I missed you too."

Beside him, Beth-Anne doesn't seem quite so pleased. She makes an exasperated huffing noise. "Mariah! For fuck's sake! Did you not see the crutches?"

"Oh! Sorry!" Mariah says, but she's not contrite. She releases Nikolai and then scrambles to collect his crutches for him. As she's helping him get situated with them again, she glances over at Beth-Anne. "My mom says you say the F-word too much, you know."

"Typical teenager," Beth-Anne grumbles. "Always making trouble."

"Yup," says Mariah, unfazed. Nikolai knows Beth-Anne isn't really angry, and Mariah clearly knows it too. "That's me, Mariah Torres. Making trouble since 1995."

Nikolai wants to laugh, and momentarily forgets that he's supposed to be anxious. He adores Mariah. The sixteen year old kind of reminds him of himself and Ginger at that age, full of energy and affection and harmless silliness. In hindsight, it's no wonder Stan hadn't been able to handle the two of them together.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Beth-Anne is asking Mariah. "Your ice time isn't until three-thirty."

"I know," Mariah says. "My dad's away on business and my mom had to take my sisters to the dentist this morning, so like, somebody had to make sure my baby brother made it here for his ice time. But, don't worry," she adds. "Me and Gabriel have dentist appointments too, so once his class is over we're gonna go there, and then I'll go to school for the afternoon."

"Your little brother's in the preschool class?" Nikolai asks, intrigued.

"Uh-huh," says Mariah. "And he's awesome. I mean, not that anybody's actually good when they're four years old, but like, Gabriel hardly ever falls down, and he can skate on one foot a little bit."

"I'll keep an eye out for that."

"You're going to watch the class?"

"I'm going to be observing all morning," he says.

"Cool," says Mariah. "Come on. You can sit with me, and we'll observe together. We can pretend we're assistant coaches and make notes."'

Nikolai doesn't tell her that he's not going to be pretending. He and Mariah find a spot where they're able to see everything, and they settle in to watch what Gabriel and his friends are learning.

There are five kids in the class altogether, and it turns out that little Gabriel Torres really is the best of the bunch. Just as his sister claimed, he can skate on one leg, and he zips around the orange safety cones without falling down once. He can even skate backwards, although he does land on his bum several times while trying that. The only other child who comes close to him in skills is a little girl who has backward skating down to an art, but who can't seem to stop unless she crashes into something.

By the time the class ends, Nikolai can barely believe half an hour has already gone by. He’s getting more comfortable with l being here and he thinks he might even dare to say he's having a good time.

He says goodbye to Mariah and Gabriel, and tells Mariah he might see her later that day. She gives him a high-five before skipping off with her little brother in tow.

After the group class, Stan and Ginger show up for Ginger's ice time. Ginger greets Nikolai with just as much enthusiasm as Mariah had, but unlike her younger counterpart, she's careful of his leg and waits until he's sitting down again before she tackle-hugs him. She fusses over him for several minutes until Stan yells at her to quit her nonsense and get moving. Laughing, she pulls off her skate guards and hands them to Nikolai before making her way to the gate and stepping onto the ice.

Beth-Anne comes to sit with him, and they watch together as Ginger rehearses her programs for Worlds. Beth-Anne suggests things for Nikolai to pay attention to, and he does his best to follow everything Ginger is doing. He's watched hundreds of videos of himself and other skaters over the years that he's had to study, but he could pause those whenever he wanted and rewind as many times as necessary. Analyzing someone's routine in real time is a lot more challenging than he expected. He can't say he dislikes it, though. It's fascinating, and just as Beth-Anne predicted, it does change his perspective.

After Ginger's practice, they all have time for a break. Stan and Beth-Anne go off somewhere together, presumably to discuss something coaching-related, while Nikolai and Ginger make their way out to the vending machines in the foyer. Ginger digs around in her bag for some change, and then gets a bottle of orange Gatorade and a bag of pretzels, which they share. Beth-Anne would be horrified to see them drinking from the same bottle, but neither Nikolai nor Ginger is particularly worried. This isn't the first time they've shared a drink, and it most likely won't be the last.

They chat for a while about inconsequential things and make plans to go bowling once Nikolai no longer needs his crutches. She should know better than to challenge him to a bowling match, he says. She's terrible at it and he invariably wins.

"Hope springs eternal and all that," she says airily. She doesn't care if she doesn't win. She just wants to be with him, to laugh and eat pizza and listen to the bowling alley's old-timey soundtrack.

He tells her he'd like that. He's happy whenever he gets to be with her, and a best friend date with greasy bowling alley pizza and old time rock 'n roll sounds fantastic to him.

When the pretzels and Gatorade are gone, Ginger checks the time on her fitness tracker and says she has to run. She has a massage therapy appointment and then a session at the dance studio afterwards. She kisses him on the cheek before she leaves, and says she hopes he enjoys the rest of his day.

Now that he's feeling more at ease, he fully intends to enjoy the rest of his day. It's all going so well — much better than he feared it might, in fact — and he has to admit he’s surprised by that.

He gathers his crutches and makes his way back to the practice rink. Beth-Anne isn't back yet, and nobody else is there.

Nikolai reclaims the seat he'd occupied for most of the morning and waits. It's nearly eleven o'clock, which Beth-Anne had said was Brett's scheduled ice time and also when Nikolai's first tentative assistant coaching assignment would begin. He's looking forward to studying Brett's performance. The junior skater is obviously very good, and Nikolai wants to see exactly what it is that earned him a qualification for the World Junior Figure Skating Championship.

He doesn't have to wait long for Brett to appear. The wooden bench has barely warmed beneath him when Brett Eriksson enters through the door from the men's locker room. The fourteen year old is small, but Nikolai can tell from the way he moves that there's nothing fragile or weak about him. He's clad in grey athletic pants and a form-hugging blue top, with a blue toque pulled down over his mass of white-blond curls. His expression is grim, incongruous with his cherubic features.

Brett skates around the perimeter of the ice surface in long, slow, fluid strides. He doesn't seem to realize Nikolai is there at first, but when he finally does notice, he slides to an abrupt halt, sending a small shower of snow over his skates and the surrounding ice.

There's no other way to describe it; Brett glares at him.

"You," he says. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Watch your language," Nikolai says. It's the first thing that springs into his mind, and he doesn't have the willpower to filter it.

Brett glides up to the boards and then just stands there for several seconds, still glaring at Nikolai. He folds his slender arms over his narrow chest and demands. "Where's Beth-Anne? Or am I skating alone again today?"

"She's here," Nikolai says.

"With you."

"What does that have to do with anything? Beth-Anne's here. You're going to get your ice time with her."

"Am I?" says Brett. "I missed three days because of you. Because Beth-Anne thinks you're more important than the rest of us, apparently. Your career's fucking done, and she still pays more attention to you than she does to me."

That's not—" Nikolai begins, but trails off because it's pointless to deny that Beth-Anne has been devoting her time exclusively to him for the past several days. Brett can't possibly know everything that's transpired, but Nikolai can still see his point of view. No doubt he'd feel ignored and he'd be angry too, if his and Brett's roles were reversed. Still, nothing that's happened is Nikolai's fault, and he thinks it's unfair for Brett to blame him.

He shakes his head and admonishes himself, Brett's just a kid. Don't get yourself into a stupid argument with a kid.

Taking a deep breath, he tries again. "Brett, I'm sorry you lost a few training days, but that's not something I had any control over."

"Like hell it isn't!" Brett retorts. "You've got Beth-Anne wrapped around your finger so tight, she'd come running if you had a fucking paper cut. And don't try to say that's not true, 'cause we all know it is. So, you whine about some dumb little thing and she up and leaves us to fend for ourselves. You think that's something you can't control?"

"It wasn't a paper cut. I was in the hospital."

"So what? You've got a mom and dad and a wife. They're the ones who're supposed to be taking care of you, not your coach. Our coach. She knows I have a big competition in a few weeks, and yet she's still putting you ahead of me, and that's literally fucking wrong."

"Maybe, but it's still not my fault," Nikolai says. He tries to keep his tone steady, but he's starting to feel panicky again and he's scared his self-control will slip. "If you have a problem with how Beth-Anne is managing your training, she's the one you should be talking to about it, not me."

"Oh, yeah? Talk to her about it and hear what, exactly?" He pitches his voice in a high, mocking tone. "Nikolai needs me. Blah... blah..."

That... that is not fair! You—"

"No!" Brett cuts him off. "You know what's not fair? You barging into my practice session is not fair. You think Beth-Anne is going to waste even half a brain cell on me with you sitting right there?”

“She’ll give you all her attention. This is your practice time.”

“Yeah, my practice time,” Brett echoes fiercely. “You don't belong here, Nikolai. Not in my practice session and not anywhere in this whole damn arena! You're not a skater any more, and we all know it, so why don't you quit taking up space around here and just leave already?"

For what feels like an eternity, Nikolai is unable to move or speak. He has no response in any case, even if he could find his voice. The edges of his vision darken and his heart hammers so hard and fast inside his chest that he can barely breathe.

Not now, he pleads, but hot tears fill his eyes despite his silent begging to whatever powers control such things.

On the ice, Brett is laughing. He shouts something unmistakably mocking and derogatory, but Nikolai’s brain can’t process the individual words.

Nikolai jumps up from the bench. Forgetting that he's supposed to be on crutches, he tries to run and then gasps in pain when his bad leg takes his full body weight. He can’t see clearly through his tears, but he can make out the shape of his crutches and he knows where the exit is. He scoops up his crutches from where they're leaning against the bench, gets them positioned, and then hobbles toward the door as fast as he’s able.

He doesn't see Beth-Anne coming and nearly collides with her on the way out. She squeaks in surprise, and says, "Nikolai! What's going on?"

He doesn't answer her. He just keeps limping along the corridor, head down, concentrating on every agonizing step.

"Where are you going?" Beth-Anne calls after him.

"Home," he says. It comes out quiet and strained, and he doesn't know if she hears him or not. "I... I need to go home."

[gregorygerwitz]

Moustead + The Hockey AU

warnings: brief mention of chronic/terminal illness and death, implied alcoholism, depression, behavior that could be considered self harm

Gregory Gerwitz IV liked hockey. It was his favorite sport. He had the family pull that let him get tickets to every home Blackhawks game, and he usually spent every minute at glass level, watching all the action with only the protection of the plexiglass shield a foot in front of his face. But that was the Hawks, NHL, the big leagues, even if their playoff outlook wasn’t very high.

What he didn’t particularly care about was the minor league team that his father bought between seasons when he was a teenager, like adding to the weight of the family business he was supposed to inherit was somehow a birthday gift. He’d wanted a car that year, or the freedom to spend more time at the stables with Phil and Amelia, or even better, to not be forced into a business track at a college barely half an hour away from home. He definitely didn’t want to be promised the Chicago Mice, a hockey team that no one had heard about because they sucked, had never won a single game, and gave him the mocking nickname Mouse for his entire senior year of high school.

So, he ignored it. Greg ignored the family name on all of the merchandise and swag he saw around the city. He ignored the change in the Mice’s record when they started winning games. He ignored all of it. It was easier to ignore it than acknowledge that he’d have to handle that some day, too. It was another weight on his shoulders he didn’t want to deal with.

But he could only ignore it for so long.

After college, and after he established himself working in the office with his father, he got pulled from a meeting early to go to lunch. Only, lunch didn’t involve food, just a mostly empty arena and a warm up for the team on the ice. Besides the coaches and the players, they were the only ones there, and it wasn’t exactly fun.

He got a bag of popcorn for his midday meal, and glass level seats, and normally, that would be just fine with him. He’d done it at a few matinee games, living off junk food and rooting for his team, but this was different. Because one day, it really would be his team, whether he wanted it to be or not.

And he really didn’t want it.

Jay Halstead didn’t know what he wanted to do when he finished high school. He knew it had to take his attention, be a good distraction from everything going on at home, not let him linger on any of it. With his brother off to school in New York and his mother in and out of the hospital with medical bills to keep up with, he didn’t have a lot of options. It had to be something with a steady income, enough to keep up with unforeseen expenses.

Hockey had started as a hobby, something he did at the local rec center when he had free time and a few extra bucks. He’d tried out for the Mice as a joke - maybe they weren’t a great team, but the paycheck would be enough to make a dent in the medical debt he was helping with while still paying for his own apartment. The fact that he made it on the team at all was some kind of miracle, and it felt like the universe, or some other force, was telling him he was doing exactly the right thing.

It was the final game of his first season with the team when he got a phone call from the bench. He didn’t even get to see the rare victory, too busy rushing to the hospital on the other side of the city. He picked his brother up at the airport the next day, and by the end of the weekend, they had to shift their efforts to planning a funeral instead of any other medical next steps. It meant the owner of the team wanted him gone, wanted him and his odd penchant for never showing up on time off the team.

He got lucky again. He was one of the players who had gained them as many small victories as they’d gotten in the months he was playing. He got another chance.

But after such a loss, it was hard to go back to live as usual. He could keep playing the game he’d grown to love, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore. And, after another season, he didn’t exactly need that much money when the bills were paid and no longer accumulating. He was free and clear, he could quit and go off and do whatever he wanted with his life. He could even stop making money all together and live in his childhood bedroom where the fridge was always stocked with snacks and more beer than he could drink. It’s what he wanted to do, some days, give up and retreat, let the sadness take him and swallow him whole.

When that wasn’t an option, he did something else. Every single play that seemed a little too rough could end in a punch. He could skate a little faster and push a little harder. He could leave the ice with bruises or a bloody nose that made him feel a little more solid, like he was still a part of his own life instead of just floating through it. It wasn’t healthy, and it got him more penalties than he cared to count, and it almost made him lose everything. It almost got him kicked off the team, again, and that was when reality forced him to look it in the eye.

So Jay pulled himself back together again, made himself play the way he knew he could. It was less aggressive and more calculated, passing and scoring and improving the team’s record year after year.

It wasn’t like he did it singlehandedly, but he knew he was a big part of it, the Mice going from the worst team in the league to the top five in almost no time at all. And, when he heard whispers of the owner of the team coming to watch a practice one afternoon at the start of the season, he didn’t let that opportunity pass him by. He showed Mr. Gerwitz that keeping him around was a good idea, that he was very capable of playing at the level he needed to in order to keep his position on the team.

And, when he turned around and took his helmet off after scoring a warm up goal, he found that the only person near the bench who was even looking at him wasn’t the owner of the team at all - just his son.