#best Olympic t-shirt ever
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"Your shirt has to go, but you can stay." (... I'm sorry for Sirena but Apollo is getting messed with now XD)
𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐑��𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (Accepting)
“What’s wrong with my shirt?” He looks down, the shirt in question having some poorly written text on it stating “Roman’s do it naked.” Which he thought was pretty funny. However, text on a shirt seemed to not really take off as early as the time is now, truly Apollo had done it first and in doing so, most of not everyone hated what the statements on his shirts declared and it seemed Sirena was no diff-
Oh… She was hitting on him.
A couple of blinks then a blush forming on Apollo’s cheeks as he does what she informs him. The shirt being peeled off and tossed aside before jumping right into bed with her.
#brightest of the suns; Apollo#liroyalty#I now want a shirt that says ‘Romans do it naked’ with a couple of dudes wrestling#best Olympic t-shirt ever
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kiss me - c.alcaraz
author: this fic is part of the olympic love series
summary: A midnight invitation to the pool make Carlos and Valeria surpass some limits
wc: 1,1k
“Come and meet me by the pool at 00:00”
That’s what his message said.
The village was unusually quiet at that hour of the night, the cool breeze rustling through the trees that lined the paths. After a long day of training and socializing, I wandered aimlessly, feeling this as a moment of peace. The faint sound of water, lapping against the edges of the pool, moved by the breeze caught my attention; drawing me toward the shimmering blue under the moonlight.
When I arrived, I was surprised to find the pool area completely deserted. No sign of Carlos anywhere nearby. The water looked inviting, almost too tempting to resist. So, I sat on the edge, dipping my feet in and letting out a contented sigh as the cool water soothed my tired legs. I closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the solitude, when I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.
"Couldn’t sleep?" His voice, deep and smooth, cut through the stillness of the night. Already teasing me with the fact that I obeyed to his demand of meeting here.
I opened my eyes and found Carlos standing a few feet away. He was dressed casually in swim trunks and a sleeveless T-shirt, his hair still damp from what I assumed was a recent shower. There was a relaxed confidence about him that made my body pulse with excitement.
"I’m here as you wished" I replied lightly, trying to keep my tone casual. "Care to join me?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. In one swift motion, Carlos peeled off his shirt, revealing the body that I hadn’t been able to keep off my mind. I tried to play it cool, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering over his toned chest and abs.
Carlos caught my stare and grinned. "See something you like?"
"Just wondering if you’re as fast in the water as you are on the court" I shot back, lifting my chin in challenge.
"Is that a dare?" His tone was laced with that teasing edge I had come to expect from him.
"Maybe," I said before disappearing under the water for a few seconds. "I think this is a great chance to start that little game of yours”
Carlos’s eyes darkened with interest as he considered my proposal. "And what exactly are the boundaries we’re talking about in this first round?"
"That’s for the winner to decide," I replied, my voice taking on a more seductive note. The air between us seemed to thicken with tension, the kind that had been building for days, unspoken but ever-present.
Carlos stepped closer to the edge of the pool, his gaze locked on mine. "Alright, Valeria. You’re on. First to the other side and back wins."
My pulse quickened as I moved to the deeper end of the pool. I could feel his eyes on me as I advanced, the coolness enveloping me like a second skin. When I turned to face him, he was already by my side, his expression confident and focused.
"Ready?" I asked, my voice slightly breathless, whether from the anticipation or the cool water, I wasn’t sure.
"Always" Carlos responded.
Without another word, we both launched ourselves forward, slicing through the water with powerful strokes. The race was fast and intense, the sound of our splashing the only noise in the stillness of the night. We were neck and neck as we reached the opposite end, but as we turned to race back, I could feel Carlos pulling slightly ahead.
Determined not to let him win, I pushed myself harder, my muscles burning with the effort. But despite my best efforts, Carlos touched the edge of the pool a split second before I did.
He surfaced with a victorious grin, slicking his hair back with one hand as he leaned against the pool’s edge. "Looks like I win" he said, his voice full of satisfaction.
I pouted playfully, though my heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the swim. "Fine. What’s your demand, then?"
Carlos’s smile turned predatory, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that sent a shiver down my spine. "Come closer," he murmured.
I swam toward him, feeling the tension between us heighten with every inch that closed between us. As I reached the edge, my body brushed lightly against his, the contact electric. Carlos didn’t move back, didn’t give me any space, just waited until I was almost flush against him. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said. "Kiss me."
It wasn’t a question or a suggestion—it was a demand, and the boldness of it took my breath away. I had expected something cheeky, perhaps a little daring, but this… this was a line we hadn’t crossed before.
For a fraction of a second, I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. But the heat in his gaze, the raw anticipation that hung in the air between us, was too much to resist. I leaned in, my hands finding purchase on his shoulders as I closed the distance between us.
Our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, but the moment they connected, it was as if a dam broke. The kiss deepened, turned urgent, our bodies pressing impossibly closer. I could feel the cool water lapping around us, contrasting with the warmth of his skin, the heat of his mouth.
Carlos’s hands moved to my waist, pulling me even closer as the kiss became more intense. It was a kiss that spoke of all the teasing, the flirting, the unspoken attraction that had been building between us. A kiss that was both an exploration and a promise of more to come.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other’s as we tried to steady our racing hearts.
"Looks like I got more than I bargained for" I whispered, my voice shaky with a mix of excitement and nerves.
Carlos chuckled softly, his hands still resting on my waist. "This is just the beginning, Val. We’ve got plenty more rounds to go."
I smiled, unable to hide the thrill that coursed through me at the thought. "Then I guess I’ll just have to make sure I win the next one."
"Better start thinking of your demands now" he teased, brushing a stray lock of wet hair from my face.
"Oh, don’t worry," I replied, my voice low and seductive. "I’ve got a few ideas in mind."
Carlos’s eyes darkened with desire at my words, and for a moment, we just stared at each other, the promise of what was to come hanging heavily in the air.
Then, with a playful grin, he leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, "I can’t wait to see how far you’re willing to push those boundaries."
My stomach flipped at the challenge in his voice, knowing that whatever came next, it was going to be anything but ordinary.
#carlos alcaraz#carlos alcaraz fanfiction#carlos alcaraz fic#carlos alcaraz imagine#carlos alcaraz x reader#carlos alcaraz x you#olympic village#olympics
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🦐🐺👅‼️🏚️
OK SO SEOUL 2006. you’re up front watching Kirk do that solo after fwtbt, and holy shit you’re abt to freak, and he LOOKS AT U with this crazy ass look. after the show, security takes u backstage and Kirk fingerfucks tf outta u in the dressing room…
(If u don’t know what I’m talking abt btw I’ll send u the vid)
SEOUL KIRK IM ON MY KNEES
𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐋 ²⁰⁰⁶
It was finally Metallica day. For years I've waited patiently to go see them live in South Korea. I grew up listening to 'Master of Puppets' with my dad, always dreaming of being in a mosh pit and getting crowd-surfed during the classics. And here I am standing front row at Olympic Gymnasium Hall, one of the best seats I could possibly hope for.
They're just finishing one of my favourite songs, For Whom The Bell Tolls, when the lights go dark and Kirk's solo pierces the air of the stadium.
I'm hooked. My eyes shoot wide and I'm basically ogling at him as he drips with sweat, his head rolling back as his bare chest shone.
There's something about an older rockstar that turns me on- the mystery and sexiness. I know he's seeing me through his smoky haze of sweat and effort.
It felt like he was looking straight into my soul. Like he knew what kind of thoughts were racing through my mind.
Those dark eyes, usually so sweet and awkward, almost evil as he staring at me, his sweaty fingers bending at the string like a madman, his other hand pounding down in the whammy.
He plays like he means it, and you can't help but feel every note.
His tongue is dripping with saliva from biting his lips hard, trying to keep control of himself in a room full of girls going crazy.
I lick my lips and squeeze myself together, knowing exactly where I want those lips. As he makes this last note, every guy around us goes nuts. I can hear screaming, clapping, yelling... I don't give a damn.
My mind and soul are only focused on him for the remainder of the show, he looks the sexiest he ever has.
After the show finally concluded, I find myself in the grip or a security guard, a man leaning in a telling me something.
He nodded his head and pointed behind me. I turn around to see Kirk smiling, pointing over his shoulder, as if he wants to leave.
Its only seconds before I'm being led down a dark hall. This couldn't be real. I walk to the dressing room door, which had been left open and peek inside.
"Hey", someone shouts from the side of the room, I turn to see Kirk walking towards me. "Nice to meet ya"
"I- um. hi.." I greet him awkwardly, unable to suppress my goofy smile.
I'm a fan girl all over again. Kirk holds out his hands like a knight greeting his lady in shining armour. He's shirtless still. His hair slick with sweat, his muscles strained from singing and playing guitar.
"In the dressing room, now." he smirks, pointing into the room.
I didn't hesitate, stepping past him into the dimly lit dressing room, filled with sound equipment and worn leather couches.
Kirk follows close behind, glancing over his shoulder to check no-one is watching. He shuts the door softly and steps closer to me. He leans in and whispers, "what do you think?"
I lean forward too, smiling widely. He notices I'm not wearing any bra underneath my black t-shirt. My nipples poking against my tight sports bra.
"I think we should get better acquainted." I whisper. That set him off, laughing loud enough to make sure there's nobody outside the room, then smiling slyly at me, turning away to sit on the couch.
I watch him sit, taking in the view of his naked torso. Kirk snickers and pats his thighs, so I follow his order and turn, sitting in his lap and leaning my back against his chest.
Our hips pressing tightly together, grinding slowly. He runs his hands up and down my stomach, scratching lightly.
I love how rough his hands are, he keeps glancing over at my tits swaying back and forth, feeling his cock growing under my ass. He wraps his arms around my body, lifting me up slightly.
His mouth presses on my neck, sucking gently. I moan loudly, my legs twitching. He presses his crotch against mine, letting me grind into his rock-hard dick.
"Is that what you wanted to get better acquainted with? You're such a naughty little thing." I look over at him and kiss him deeply, feeling our tongues dancing.
A faint noise of kissing starts, along with some light voices from people outside. I grin cheekily at him, my hands rubbing up and down his strong arms, feeing his bare back pressing on my chest. "You like that baby? Huh?"
Kirk slides his hands down my breasts, over my waist and carefully unbuttoned my jeans.
His hand moved down, sliding under my underwear. Pressing firmly against my mound, rubbing his fingertips against my clit. I gasp, putting both hands over his, applying more pressure to my pussy.
His wet fingers slide smoothly inside me, fucking my hole gently. I shut my eyes and lean my head back against his shoulder. I let out long low breaths.
Feeling his fingers moving in and out of me slowly, making small circles with each movement. "Mmmhmmm." I moan in approval, turning my face and looking directly into his eyes, winking at him.
"Do you like my hands baby? Do they feel nice?" he asks, teasing me. I look at him with pleading eyes. It was getting harder to restrain myself. "Ahh yeaah.. mmm." I struggle to get words out.
His fingers were working their magic, massaging me deeper and harder until I felt a wave of pleasure radiate from my loins. "Fuck!" I shout, my eyes rolling back into my head. His hands never stop touching me.
"Lets get this sexy thing off of you," Kirk snickers into my ear before pulling his fingers out to slide down my lace thong.
I lift my hips to help him slip it down my legs. My panties crumpled in his fist.
Kirk tosses them to the ground and slides his hand back between my legs.
His middle finger finds my hole easily and slides right back in. I whimper at the sensations shooting through my core. "Ahh! Oh yeah..."
I groan quietly, arching my back, grinding my pussy hard against his hand. "Shit yes... Just keep doing that..." He spreads his thumb over my swollen clit and begins a slow circle motion.
God damn it feels good.
I grind harder, driving his finger deep inside my cunt as far as it can go. I breathe heavily, lost in the moment, my mind blanking out.
"Yesssss... just... oh god. don't stop." I pant desperately, feeling my orgasm building up from somewhere deep inside me.
"Do you want to cum for me baby?" Kirk growls in my ear. I shudder violently, my voice shaking. "Please,
pleaseeeeeeee" I beg him urgently. His index finger joins the other, stretching my walls even wider.
My clit tingles as he rubs feverishly. I can feel it coming, heat rising inside me, my skin starting to burn. His other hand holds onto my breast tightly, squeezing it roughly as he sucks on my neck.
His fingers pump wildly inside me as I reach my climax. The wave of ecstasy surges throughout my body, I cry out as every muscle in my body clenches hard, convulsing uncontrollably. I spasm all over the place. "Kirk!" I whine.
"That's it, love... breathe through it... oh yeah, I bet that feels real nice." he mumbled, giggling under his breath.
Slowly he slows down his rhythm and pulls out of me. All I could do was lie there completely exhausted. He pulled my back to him and held me close, nuzzling his nose in my hair.
Kirk kisses my temple with a sigh and a smile, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking off my juices.
"Good girl... real good.."
#mustainegf#fanfic#reqs open#fanfiction#request#metallica#metallica x reader#metallica fanfiction#metallica fluff#smut#kirk hammett x reader smut#kirk hammett x you#kirk hammett fluff#kirk hammett x reader#kirk hammett imagines#kirk hammett smut#metallica oneshot#metallica smut#metallica imagines
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BEST PARTS OF 2024 OLYMPICS (as someone in the US)
all the buzz around the cardboard beds. idk why the whole idea is so funny 💀
lebron hoisting that flag like george washington crossing the delaware. him and coco were perfect picks for flag bearers fr
POMMEL HORSE GUY. mr clark kent who got picked for the men’s gymnastics team JUST FOR THAT ONE EVENT, showed up, served cunt, and ensured us their first men’s gym medal in 16 years. stephen nedoroscik you will forever be iconic. (the whole team really— i also love seeing fred richards’ parents reactions LMAO)
THE USA WOMENS RUGBY TEAM 🗣️ being down 5 with 7 seconds left to go COAST TO COAST TO SCORE AND WIN THE BRONZE FOR THE FIRST US WOMENS MEDAL IN RUGBY!!! also ilona maher you will forever be iconic.
flavia saraiva falling in warmups and being like ok bet, slaps a band aid on her black eye and goes out to help brazil win their FIRST MEDAL IN WOMENS GYM OHHH YEAHHH
GUATEMALA EARNED THEIR SECOND MEDAL EVER 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️GRACIAS JEAN PIERRE BROL CARDENAS 🗣️🗣️🇬🇹🇬🇹🇬🇹🥉LOS CHAPINES FTW ‼️(if it weren’t for the new bib number rule instead of a shootout we could’ve gotten higher but i digress 😔)
THE WOMENS GYMNASTICS TEAM EATS ONCE AGAIN. 🐐🐐🐐
kim yeji’s AURA???!??? she came out there and shot with her hand in her pocket like she graduated from the university of servington, which she did, all while holding her daughters toy elephant 🥹
suni lee’s, simone biles’, and brody malone’s comeback stories were all so heartwarming to see, especially rebeca andrade’s coming back after THREE ACL TEARS?!!?
henrik christiansen (aka muffin guy) is literally so funny 😭🙏 bro actually has SO. MANY. tiktoks about the olympics village chocolate muffins and i give all credit to him for the fact we have the recipe now 😋
GUATEMALA WINNING ITS FIRST GOLD 🥇🥇🥇 ADRIANA RUANO 🐐🐐 PRIMER BRONCE Y AHORA ORO 🥉🥇🇬🇹🇬🇹🇬🇹🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️
that turkish guy who just came out there in a t shirt and rawdogged the olympics 😭😭 imagine doing the shooting event with no eyewear, no ear covers, and just eyeballing it and winning SILVER??? bro is a hit man tryna not be suspicious by winning gold 🤨🤨
snoop dogg just chilling?? bro is participating in trials, trading pins, going to like every event and cheering, wearing FULL equestrian gear with martha stewart 😭? watching skateboarding finals w tony hawk? my guy is on the side quest of all side quests
katie ledecky my GOAT 🐐. i always love seeing her as the only swimmer on screen!! she lowkey has time to get out of the pool, do some interviews, get a snack, and come back to watch second place finish fr
i do not usually watch cycling but i got so sad when remco evenepoel’s bike broke down BUT he had such a. huge lead he STILL MANAGED TO WIN GOLD!!! 🔥🔥
loving all the countries making history with their first medals!! julian alfred (st. lucia) and thea lafond (dominica) SHOWING UP FR!! also a lot of countries got their first medals in gymnastics specifically like kaylia neymour (algeria), carlos yulo (philippines), ángel barajas (colombia), etc. LIKE OKAYY THE GYMNASTS ARE NOT HERE TO PLAY
all the noah lyles haters been real quiet after he won gold in 100m 🤫🤫
the french pole vaulter who LOST because his peanits was too big. LIKE??!!?? sure you have a big wiener but at the cost of LOSING THE OLYMPCIS LMFAOOO
the women’s balance beam podium was so cute 😭😭 the two italians, alice d’amato and manila esposito, biting their medals together, and zhou yaqin from china looks over and does it too 🥹
armand duplantis hit the turkish hitman celly after breaking the pole vaulting wr AGAIN and winning gold 😮💨😮💨😮💨 tuff. he actually built different cuz tell me why he’s broken the wr LIKE EIGHT TIMES IN A ROW???
YEAHH BRAZIL BEAT FRANCE AND SPAIN EVEN WHEN THE REFS WERE TRYING SOOO HARD TO MAKE EM LOSE ‼️ like they were NOT slick we could tell 🤨
bro the figure skaters from beijing 2022 FINALLY getting their medals like??? i really took two years for the IOC to investigate? okay. AT LEAST THEYRE FINALLY GETTING THE BAG H 🗣️🗣️
imane khelif getting a gold despite ALL THE SHIT BEING THROWN AT HER‼️ she faced all these brain dead critics yet came out to win it, and saying without her haters the win wouldn’t have been so satisfying??? QUEEN SHIT 👑👑
women’s soccer SLAYED SO HARD. like i’ve seen enough build the alyssa naeher statue. that shootout against sweden awakened that dawg in her and she LOCKED IN.
men’s and women’s basketball wins over france 🔥 imagine being the host country and both ur basketball teams go to the gold medal match just TO LOSE TO THE SAME COUNTRY LLL
usa winning the most medals 🔥💪 they not like U.S. fr
shoutout to that guy who tried to climb the eiffel tower without ropes at the closing ceremony 😔✊ arrested before he could achieve greatness 🕊️🕊️🕊️
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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━
This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.
For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.
in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah
An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"
I recommend you listen to About You while reading this
Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)
Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."
I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab
Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)
Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.
This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.
on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)
Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.
When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean
Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow
But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.
OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.
The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love
The Season by @missgryffin
This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."
I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).
A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)
A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."
My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."
chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)
foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)
answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.
The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA
An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction
Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.
A classic that everyone should read
Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction
Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."
One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away
Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction
Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.
Trackside by @hogwartslivy
James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.
When my two obsessions meet
it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee
A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.
Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus
Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)
Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."
Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.
See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)
Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.
Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood
Nom De Plume by @annabtg
James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?
(Rated E for later chapters)
Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it
victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)
(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."
Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo
Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor
Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."
some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux
Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.
Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."
Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily
The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together
Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97
The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?
Lily and Remus are me
and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders
“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”
Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.
What the summery said
The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.
The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting
Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)
Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.
Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)
Jump (For My Love)
Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"
Baby, It's Cold Outside
Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.
Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.
The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).
The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it
A Game Of Thrones
Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?
Euphemia Potter you will always be famous
flowers
A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."
Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for
If You Knew Who Was Talking
hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.
In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.
If only they knew who was talking.
FOOLS the both of them.
glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya
For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.
everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill
Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."
Is this not the dream?
fastening myself to you with a stitch
Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."
it's all happening without me
Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.
A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.
Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."
Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions
It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -
Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful
When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.
So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.
Or so she very dearly hopes…
Tonight Feels Impossible
But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.
To All The Kudos I've Left Before
Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.
James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.
What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."
The title says it all ❤ ❤❤
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[4] you're here, that's the thing.
post-timeskip osamu miya x reader.
❝he brought his other hand, not yet blessed by you, to cover his eyes as he waited for his cheeks to cool and his heartbeat to become steady again.
this was going to be a long summer.❞
when life in the city becomes overwhelming, your grandmother decides to sign you up for a summer in the countryside working at onigiri miya, the best onigiri place this side of hyogo! you're not the biggest fan of the early starts and long hot days at first, but your attractive new boss may change your mind...
wc; 2.5k
[honestly it's a bit unrealistic that reader wouldn't remember osamu until now but hey, that's what plot is! also i hope you guys like pining, trying-to-restrain-himself osamu because i sure do :3 ]
chapter masterlist.
𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍. 𝙟𝙪𝙡𝙮, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩.
you sigh, staring hopelessly at the dial on your measly electric fan - it was already cranked to its highest setting and yet you could still feel a layer of sweat on your skin, the dampness making you wrinkle your nose in slight disgust. the door of onigiri miya was propped open with a chair and you struggle to swallow a laugh as osamu trips over it for the tenth time that morning.
“there’s a chair there, by the way,” you drawl, your chin in your palm as you anticipate the lunchtime rush. you had no idea what osamu was doing fretting about the shop when the heat made you want to lie down where you were and sleep.
he grunts in response, ignoring your smarmy comment until he had successfully set up yet another electric fan. you sigh in relief as the cool air blows over your skin and osamu has to bite the inside of his cheek at the sight of your exposed collarbone as you lean forward into the welcome breeze.
"yer welcome, by the way,” he huffs, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his t-shirt - it was a habit that he’d picked up in high school as he'd competed with atsumu for the attention of their fans. now it was nothing more than a convenient way of drying his damp forehead in this damn july heatwave. your eyes widen a fraction when you suddenly got a flash of his stomach, the svelte abs he’d developed in high school now slightly beefier and the wisps of dark hair trailing deep beneath the waistband of his trousers. you were surprised to find yourself drooling a little and hastily turned away to suddenly busy yourself with counting the money in the register.
“what are yer doing? counting up the cash already?” osamu asks, leaning over your shoulder to observe your fidgety hands. His sudden closeness causes you to drop the coins you’d been counting and you clear your throat nervously. at this distance you could smell his aftershave mingling with the slightly floral scent of his detergent and your tongue ties itself into knots as you try to give him an appropriate response.
“j-just wanted something to do,” you reply meekly, cursing yourself quickly after - if you hadn’t stuttered he would have believed you!
osamu finally leans back, no longer peering over your shoulder, looking down at you with amusement sprawled all over his face. your own cheeks burn a little at your fumble. he’s about to respond with something clever (you can tell by the way the corner of his lip is quirked up slightly) before a customer shuffles in and you’re saved by the starting trickles of the lunchtime rush.
to be honest, you were not really one to keep up with the sports world; you don’t think you’d ever diligently followed the olympics once in your life and you weren’t about to start now. of course, you would hear about where the japanese athletes placed and react accordingly, always making an offhand comment about not possibly being able to imagine how they felt. because you couldn’t - simple as.
so when you’d showed up for your shift at onigiri miya on monday, you were surprised to find osamu putting up banners and posters promoting the worldwide sporting event. and you realised he was only putting up posters for the men’s national volleyball team. fourteen different men (you’d counted multiple times on your breaks to be sure) photographed in various poses now hung about the restaurant, with a particular blond watching over the entrance.
even now, you were staring at the piece of paper fluttering in the sparse july breeze, your hands on your hips and your eyes narrowed. osamu occasionally glances at you from the kitchen, his hands busy moulding fresh white short-grain rice into those delicious triangles you had come to know so well.
“...’samu,” you start and he braces himself for whatever dopey comment you were about to make. he couldn’t say exactly when you’d started calling him by his childhood nickname again - it was pretty much a natural progression in your rekindled relationship, not that you were aware of that fact yet. he waits for you to continue, an eyebrow slightly quirked.
“this guy looks like you. did you know that?” you announce, stare accusatory as you scrutinise the imposing form of this osamu imposter.
from the kitchen osamu snorts and remains silent, waiting for you to put the pieces together yourself.
you were wondering why he wasn’t coming out here to stand and stare at his doppelganger in similar shock with you until you notice the name on the back of the crimson red jersey.
‘miya’.
“dude! he has the same surname as you too!” you gasp, totally oblivious to how osamu was cracking up in the kitchen.
“y/n. tha’s my twin. that’s ‘tsumu,” he says after collecting himself.
“WHAT?” you shriek, your head whipping between the two men - one 2D and one 3D. “come and stand out here so i can compare you two! is he really your twin?”
osamu’s belly-laughing now, his onigiri abandoned on the counter.
“you said it yerself - he looks like me. and please come back inside, yer gonna get sunburn or heat stroke or somethin’-”
he waves his hand, ushering you over to the counter. you’re grumbling in utter surprise as you slide into one of the stools, waiting for him to scold you and remind you that they were for the customers only. but he doesn’t, simply refilling the display cabinets as he lets you mull over your latest discovery.
“so… twin?” you ask, fiddling with the stack of napkins in front of you. “for some reason that makes sense. you strike me as someone who is twin. you have that vibe, y’know?”
“i have no idea what yer talkin' about,” he deadpans, shaking his head as he slides the cabinet door closed. “now stop takin’ up the customers' space!”
you smile upon hearing those familiar words like clockwork and return to your rightful place behind the counter. Osamu is stood beside you somewhat awkwardly, as if he was anticipating more of an interrogation from you about having a twin. you press your elbows into the counter, leaning back and sighing. the heat was beginning to stifle you again, reminding you why you’d stepped outside in the first place.
“i feel like i already knew you had a twin - is that weird?” you begin to muse, unaware of how osamu’s heartbeat begins to quicken.
“o-oh really?” he responds dumbly.
“yeeeeah, “ you sigh, looking past osamu at the bright blue sky - not a single cloud in sight. “miya atsumu and miya osamu. ‘tsumu and ‘samu... the miyaans… oh my god!”
the way you slap your forehead was like something out of a bad sitcom as you stare at osamu with widened eyes and your mouth hanging open. his own expression is one that mirrors your shock, but is also mixed with something akin to relief.
“y-you’re the miyaans? right? RIGHT?” you gasp all at once, rushing over to close the distance between the two of you as you brace your hands against his chest, your eyes never leaving his for a second. “i spent so many of my summers with you two!”
“evidently not enough. was wondering how long it’d take ya to realise,” he smirks and you feel like he may be mocking you slightly. “you’ve grown lots, y/n,” he follows in a much softer tone.
your heart flutters at the way he’s looking at you now - his usual aloof demeanour has been replaced with utter warmth for you, like the afternoon sun warming garden stones. you break the eye contact first, feeling flushed all of a sudden.
“why didn’t you tell me?!”
are you… upset? the brunette man towering above you panics for the first time in a while as he studies how you cast your gaze to the side and withdraw your hands from his chest. instinctively he chases your touch, reaching up to graze the skin peeking out from the hem of your ‘onigiri miya’ t-shirt sleeve.
“i-” he begins, not sure of what to say but knowing he has to reassure you somehow. “i didn’t think you’d actually remember me - well, us - and… i didn’t want to embarrass ya in case ya really didn't,” he admits, appreciating the irony of the situation as soon as the last words left his lips. you’re silent, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you mull over his excuse.
“sorry, y/n. really.”
sighing softly, you can at least appreciate how his sincerity brings up memories that you’d long since repressed: memories of you, atsumu and osamu lounging around your grandparent's house, eating all the ice cream within a 5-mile radius as the three of you fail to combat the heat of the countryside. memories of you and atsumu arguing in the rain because he wanted to carry on exploring the woods but you wanted to go home, and osamu just drawing mindlessly in the mud between you both, not really caring either way. memories of the last time you’d seen them and told them you weren’t going to be coming back next summer; your five-year-old brain was unable to comprehend why and your five-year-old mouth was worse at trying to get the twins to understand too. You remember how silent atsumu had become, something you hadn’t thought was possible of him, and how osamu’s eyes had welled up.
“‘samu, i’ll come back one day! grandma still lives here so i can see you when i visit her!”
you crouch down next to him, your nose stinging as you try to hold back your own tears.
“ya promise?” he sniffles, his cheeks flushed pink and his small hands folded in his lap. you grab one of them and lock your pinky around his.
“promise. now stop cryin’, you’re too old for that,” you laugh, sealing the pinky promise with the tap of your thumb against his: a kiss.
“wha’bout me?” atsumu mumbles and you laugh again, standing up and skipping over to where he was sulking a few paces away.
“i guess i’ll come see ya too, ‘tsumu,” you snicker, shrieking in delight and jumping away when he throws a handful of dirt at you in protest. “yuck, gross!”
“promise me too!” he whines, holding out his dirt-covered pinky. you scrunch your face up and shake your head, keeping your hands firmly by your side.
“your hands are dirty, no way!”
the twin opens his mouth to protest until you roll your eyes and pat him on the back instead.
“there, consider that a promise.”
there's a long pause before osamu dares to speak. “y/n? a-are you crying?”
the deep timbre of the now twenty-three year old twin snaps you out of your childhood and you bring your hands up to your cheeks, feeling their warmth and wetness.
“huh? oh! guess i am…” you laugh nervously, reaching out for a napkin to dry your eyes. but osamu is steps ahead of you, using the corner of his apron to dab at your face. it’s scratchy and you whine a little at the odd sensation. his other hand grasps your shoulder, firm enough to keep you in place for him to completely wipe away your tears.
“thanks,” you sniffle, your gaze still cast to the floor. “and i’m sorry for not remembering you sooner. and for not honouring my promise.” you hear osamu chuckle above you, his hand still on your shoulder.
“s’okay. i forgive ya.”
“but it was a pinky promise, sealed with a kiss!” you look down at your own hands, your fingertips tingling as you remember. “that’s like, the worst kind of promise to break!”
osamu can’t help but burst out laughing at your words as he suddenly is overcome by the nuance of your newfound revelation. he so desperately wants to wrap his arms around you now, like he did when you were kids and he would swing you into the air. But not only is there no space behind the counter, he also doesn’t want to overwhelm you even more than you already are.
“you laughing at me, miya?”
but you’re laughing too, happy to have met osamu miya all over again. you recall your first day working under him, how you hadn’t even realised he was the boss because he was young and extremely attractive. even now, your eyes follow the bulges of his bicep as he cradles your shoulder, his god-given flesh unfairly constrained by the black elastic material. you had no doubt that you had been extremely unsubtle in the way you admired his pure size when he’d caged you in the storage room - much like how he was doing now, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. he was no longer the scrawny snotty brat from your childhood, one that was constantly covered in dirt or cuts and bruises or atsumu’s blood from when they took their arguments a little too far. no, he’d grown into his features now - his hooded eyes more calculating than you remember, his strong jaw covered by a stretch of tan skin and the musings of a five o’clock shadow.
you’d loved him then and you love him now, seventeen years later. and that thought made you feel nauseous and heavenly all at once. dizziness seemed to encompass you suddenly and you swayed in your place, held upright only by osamu.
“y/n? are ya feelin’ okay? ya look frightened!” osamu announces, his hand hovering over your forehead. he’s hesitant, unsure whether you’d want him to touch you right now. but you smile weakly, leaning closer to press your forehead against the back of his palm: a signal that you were okay. the gesture makes his chest tighten and all of a sudden he wants to run and hide in that alleyway again.
but he can’t run now, not when you’re so close.
his hand is impossibly still as you press your skin against it, slightly damp with sweat. he looks down at you with his mouth slightly agape and a flash of worry in his beautiful grey irises.
“m’fine. see, ‘samu?” you whisper, pulling away again quickly. the back of his hand feels as though it’s been burnt by your radiance and he instinctively cradles it against his stomach. he nods, observing how you take a deep breath, your chest rising and falling steadily. you sweep your hair away from your neck too, in an attempt to cool off. his eyes follow your every move, a lump forming in his throat.
“so…” you begin, the tension settling on your shoulders in an unwelcome weight. you steady yourself against the counter, knuckles turning white from the way you’re gripping it.
“when can i see ‘tsumu?”
about me.
ao3 link.
#haikyuu#haikyuu fic#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#hq fanfic#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu x you#osamu fluff#osamu x reader
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Weekly roundup: 1st August - 31st August
(I know its technically a month, but like the last one, its just until I catch up lol)
I wrote 13 fics in August, totalling 88,453 words so im pretty proud of that.
As always, recs first and then my fics under the cuts <3
Ringbearers - CQueen - The Hobbit (2012) (Bilbo/Thorin, aftelrife shennigans!!!!)
Summary: Having crossed over to the afterlife together Frodo decides to play matchmaker and insists that he and his uncle must go on an adventure together. What do they seek? Why his uncle's long dead friends, particularly Thorin Oakenshield.
Washing Day - StupidFatPenguin - The Hobbit - All Media Types (Bilbo/Thorin, Viking au!)
Summary: “What do you mean you bathe more than once per season?”
After only a short while of travelling with his heathen captors, Bilbo discovers that the tales of the fearsome, filthy and savage Northmen from his childhood might be much closer to great inaccuracy than the actual truth.
Dwalin Guards Thorin's Heart - SunnyRose - The Hobbit - All Media Types (Bilbo/Thorin, Dwalin & Bilbo, as always, @sunnyrosewritesstuff's fics are amaing!)
Summary: After the Carrock, Thorin pulls Dwalin aside asking him to protect his One from harm. Dwalin had no idea how difficult a task this was going to be, but the Burglar is an accident magnet!
The Tweed Fairy - lisellelascelles - The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) (Bilbo/Thorin, I rarely read smut, but when i do, its usually @lisellelascelles as it i smut with feelings, the only kind I like, and I adore this one!)
Summary: After working in the States for more than a decade, Thorin goes back to England to help his recently widowed older sister, and reconnect with his extended family. It’s early summer, the UEFA championship is firing up, and everyone meets in the local pub to watch the historic England vs. Scotland match. There he sees a small fellow all dolled up with tweed trousers and braces and a ridiculous retro football T-shirt underneath. He mocks him, coming across as a massive twat and a bigot to boot, without knowing the man is his cousin’s boyfriend’s best friend. When he later has an opportunity to redeem himself, what can he do but grab it and squeeze it…?
Take me as I am - phiaura - The Witcher (TV) (Geralt/Jaksier, please mind the tags, but it is SO good!)
Summary: Thus, a deal was struck, a treaty agreed upon. Rivia would not take military action against any allied kingdom and in turn, the kingdoms would provide the king of Rivia with a consort. So far, that last bit was the part of the treaty that had gone to shit. As far as Jaskier had understood, up to now the White Wolf had turned down all the proffered brides. If a consort was not approved, the treaty would be null and void.
Where Jaskier is the last chance of fulfilling the requirements of a treaty between the warlord of Rivia, and the allied kingdoms. Will it prove to be his rescue or his doom?
Pieces Tossed Aside - Anagrrl - Firefly (Malcom/Simon, aplocalypse au,)
Summary: Paquin goes silent. Everything else follows. AU set after the TV series.
I hope theres at least on foc for you all to enjoy, have a good week <3
Now for my fics, bare with me, when we get back to actual weekly roundups these lists will be much smaller lol.
The gold of your eyes is worth more then all of my medals (Sirius/Remus, olympics Au)
Summary: After a disastorous drunk driving crash caused by Siirus he ran from Remus, the love of his life.
10 years later and Remus is watching as the only man he has ever loved gains his fourth Olympic gold medal, now if only he owuld smile at Remus the way he is at the camera.
The Babes of War (Gen fic, pleae mind the tags, it tooks of child soldiers, im still not over the fact that 16 year old Gloin was at war!!!, also thank you so much to @mrkida-art for all the Tolkein canon information they provided which helped me write this fic)
Summary: Thror has taken to many dwarves to fight at Azanulbizar. This includes a 16 year old Gloin and his cousins, none of whom are of age.
A story of child soldiers whose whole world changes after one disatorous battle caused by a gold mad king.
Not Dorcas the Orca, two of three Marauders and a jail cell (Sirius/Remus, James Potter. Another self indulgant fic for my Wolfstar fandom family, they know who they are <3)
Summary: Sirius and James once again find themselfs in a jail cell with Dorcas (who was once an orce in this very same cell) only this isn't really Dorcas, even though they look exactly like them, huh?
Gollum's song (Bilbo & Gollum, mind the tags, MCDs)
Summary: Bilbo's heart is broken as he tries to recover as much as possible at Beorn's after BOFTA. He needs all the strenght he can regain because he has a new Quest to go on.
One where he may save another lost to the darkness the Ring causes.
That house was not a home:I never meant to leave you there alone (Sirius/Remus, Sirius & Regulus, Minor character death, grief)
Summary: Sirius wakes up in morning, reads the Daily Prophet and his whole life was suddenly changed.
The world is cruel and dark and he needs his brother who is forever gone.
There's no way out: the door is barred by the demon in my lovers skin (Bilbo/Thorin, please mind the tags, MCD, DD:DE!)
Summary: Thorin has never recovered from the Dragon sickness and ow it is Bilbo who is suffering because of it.
He is trapped and alone under Thorin's thumb and fists.
Bilbo just wants his dwarf back, instead he has a monster wearing Thorin's face hurting him.
It Was Never What It Seemed (Bilbo/Thorin, please mind the tags, it has some upsetting themes, but this, THIS is a fic i sent moe than a year on. If i never wrote anythig again, it would be ok because I managed to write and finish this particular fic A huge thank you to @sunnyrosewritesstuff for all their help writing it and for the title itself, and to @brandileigh2003 for all the emotional support i needed when writing the heavier hitting chaps. Thank you both, i appreciate it so much <3)
Summary: It has been 8 years since Bilbo has lest stepped foot in Erebor. He needs to talk to his husband, especially as he is now about to marry another. Another who is not Bilbo.
Bilbo left and when he did he left Thorin broken hearted. Now he is to marry a Blacklock Princess, consequences be damned.
Follow along with our favourite dwarf and hobbit as they find their way back to one another, No matter how painful the journey is.
Violets for the one I adore (Percy/Viktor, written for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt - Gifted violets)
Summary: Viktor has been a retired house husband and stay-at-home dad for 4 months now. Percy has never been happier.
There's a monster under my bed (Gen fic, Percy & Fred & George Weasley, written for the @change-is-perceivable fest)
Summary: There's a monster in Percy's room and no one will help him deal with it. Instead he is facing his bedroom door, wondering if anyone will care if the monster eats him.
It's hard being the good boy in such a large, chaotic family sometimes.
Don't try and drink your grief away (Gen fic, Percy & Geroge & Harry, grief, alcoholism, also written for the @change-is-perceivable fest)
Summary: Percy is blaming himself for Fred's death, after all he is the one who spoke to him, joked with him last.
He isn't coping well and has resorted to drinking.
Drunk Percy does something unthinkingly. Something he can't remember doing.
Destined Embrace: The Love That Healed the Noldor (Fingon/Maedhros (Tolkien), written for the @tolkienrsb, wih amaing art form the talented @wisteria53)
Summary: Fingon is going to rescue his best friend, his possibly something more, Maedhros, no matter what it takes.
Fingon is going to rescue his best friend, his possibly something more, Maedhros, no matter what it takes.
He is going to take him home to Gondolin and keep him safe. Maybe their friendship will grow along with their feelings of safety.
In the Darkness, You are My Shining Star (Gimli/Legolas, also written for @tolkienrsb, but this one has amazing art from @babybat98. I was paired with another amazing artist <3)
Summary: The Trope of Thorin Oakeshield are excavation miners in the depths of space working hard to feed and support their fledgling colony.
The neweest recruits have been allowed into space. Gimli Gloinson is one of those recruits. he is oging to learn how scary space can be, but also how very rewarding it can be too.
Back to where we belong (Ron/Hermione, as part of the Love of Fest Discord server, for the flash comp - Back to roots fest)
Summary: It's time to pick this years family holiday.
Ron knows where he wants to go. He wants to go back, he wants to go home.
#bagginshield#the hobbit#geralt/jaskier#the witcher#Malcom/Simon#firefly#wolfstar#the marauders#percy/viktor#fireseeker#harry potter#Gen fics#fingon/maedhros#the silmarillion#gimli/legolas#lotr#Hermione/Ron#Fic recs#Goo's fics
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HL Fic Library 🌸 Short Fics
(Part Two ~ 5k-10k)
Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.
🌸 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday (T, 10k)
Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.
🌸 a garden in bloom by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (G, 10k)
Louis used to live the quiet sweet life of a small business owner in the English countryside.
Then Harry Styles came along.
🌸 Make Him Want to Sin by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird (E, 9k)
The stranger’s sharp gaze landed on him immediately, the eye contact shattering through Harry’s defenses. For the first time in his life, Harry had an instantaneous reaction to someone. The man stared down at him with interest, like he wanted to take Harry apart and put him back together again, piece by piece. Harry wanted that more than anything, and he wanted it right now. It took every ounce of strength he had ever possessed to not drop down to his knees instinctively.
All from one glance.
Harry is a curatorial assistant at the London Museum of Natural History, on the day of the big annual gala he catches a glimpse of someone unexpected.
🌸 Give Me One Excuse by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (T, 9k)
Louis gets dumped by his fiancée and Harry is his replacement. It's not their decision to get engaged, but it's their decision to get married.
Or, an Arranged Marriage Royal AU.
🌸 You Deserve It All by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (NR, 9k)
Just once Harry would like to face his ex and feel confident, but he's shit at confronting Nick and unfortunately his shopping skills aren't much better. Thankfully for him, the cute sales boy at the clothing shop knows a thing or two about fashion and making ex boyfriends green with envy.
🌸 Night Out by @helloamhere (E, 9k)
Symphony hall was the first place Louis had felt at home in this city, and he always had the box to himself. Until tonight.
🌸 a body wishes to be held & held by @turnyourankle (E, 9k)
Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.
🌸 Sweet to the Soul, Health to the Bones by wildhalos (T, 9k)
“When you walk in, every single thing stops. I see you, only.” Someone keeps declaring their love on the brick wall outside Louis’s office window. It's possible Louis should be concerned, but the romantic in him would like to believe a stalker would use something slightly more vicious than chalk and pretty words.
🌸 Second Time's the Charm by @cherrystreet (E, 8k)
Louis’ mother is convinced she met her son’s soulmate at the market. Louis is extremely hesitant to go on the blind date she’s set up, but she’s persistent, begging and pleading, pulling out all the stops. After all, mothers do know best.
(Or maybe they don’t.)
🌸 Now That It's Over by @lululawrence (NR, 8k)
“What are the odds we would both be at Mariano’s on a Thursday night?”
Louis’ shoulders tensed. What the hell was he doing here?
“Harry? Hi? The odds are pretty crazy, yeah.”
Harry smiled down at Louis the way he used to, but there was also a glint in his eye that Louis absolutely did not like. Harry was also dressed in his favorite black and white striped women’s jeans and a printed shirt only he would ever be able to pull off. It was quite rude of him to come and interrupt Louis, particularly while looking so good. Louis hadn’t seen him since he’d finished moving his shit out of what was once their shared flat, so this being the first time seeing him wasn’t exactly providence in Louis’ mind.
Or the one where Harry and Louis broke up two months ago, and Harry just might be sabotaging Louis' dates.
🌸 good enough (for you) by localopa / @voulezloux (G, 8k)
omega louis is next in line to rule the pack. in spite of the rule saying he needs an alpha to rule, he creates an impossible olympics to find a worthy mate. harry somehow wins the gold.
🌸 Mr. Tuesday by @jaerie (E, 8k)
Tuesday. Harry loved Mr. Tuesday.
It was true that most of his clients were regulars, but there was just something about Mr. Tuesday that would make him stand out amongst the others even if he hadn’t booked almost every single Tuesday with him for the past year. It was the first day of Harry’s work week and Mr. Tuesday always eased him into it in such a pleasant way.
🌸 Holding out for something more by SunTomato / @sun-tomato (NR, 8k)
"This isn't a social call, is it, Curly?" Harry's gaze drops to the floor. "No." Harry takes a deep breath, fists clenching at his side, before he looks up again. His eyes meet Louis’ with a mix of fear and determination. "I want to make a deal."
OR The one where demon Louis really doesn't want Harry to trade away his soul, even if he can't explain why.
🌸 I Don't Love You I Want in Your House by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 7k)
Harry comes into the bakery almost every day trying to woo Louis.
Zayn works out at the gym maybe a little more than necessary so that he can get the chance to watch Liam train.
Niall is the only one who ever checks the mail.
🌸 Your secret’s safe with me by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic (M, 7k)
He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like.
Louis didn't care.
Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.
🌸 'Sup by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics (G, 6k)
Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.
Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.
ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.
🌸 Easier by @allwaswell16 (E, 6k)
The last person Louis wants to see is his ex-boyfriend who also happens to be his soulmate.
🌸 Bijou by @kingsofeverything (E, 6k)
Being in love with his best friend wouldn't be so awful if Harry didn't have to listen to him constantly complain about how the guys he dates don't measure up.
🌸 We're Getting Better With Time by @haztobegood (T, 5k)
Hello Harry, this may seem out of the blue, and even weirder if you don’t remember me. We hung out for a few weeks back in the summer of 82. A picture of you showed up on my facebook tonight, I think because we have a few mutual friends on here. I know we haven’t spoken in forty years, but I thought I’d just shoot you a message. I hope you’re doing well. L
Or, the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.
🌸 old macdonald had a farm by vintagehistories / @adoredontour (NR, 5k)
Louis is a hedgehog, Harry is a fish, Niall is a parrot, Liam is a golden retriever, and Zayn is Zayn. It’s a crazy twenty-four hours.
🌸 Only Reason by @letsjustsee (NR, 5k)
“We are so lucky to have with us one of the leading experts on beekeeping in the modern age, Dr. Louis Draper.” No. No, no, no… “I know I speak for many of us when I say that this man’s books have guided our practice, or helped us get started,” Harry continued, and Louis watched as the crowd nodded their heads in agreement. Oh shit. No. What? No. But then Harry was gesturing towards him, saying “Dr. Draper?” into the microphone, the crowd was applauding, and Louis found himself walking up the stairs to the stage.
Or, Louis is most definitely smitten with Harry from the second he sees him, but he is also most definitely not the world's foremost expert on beekeeping. He decides to roll with it anyway.
🌸 Get Nesting & Soft Knots by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry (G, 5k)
AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets
#ficrec#hlcreators#hljournal#hlsource#1dficvillage#trackinghappily#trackinghome#tracksintheam#1dsource#hltracks#under10k#ishiplouis#letsjustsee#haztobegood#kingsofeverything#allwaswell16#mediawhore#ladylondonderry#suntomato#jaerie#localopa#lululawrence#cherrystreet#wildhalo#lightswoodmagic#turnyourankle#helloamhere#rearviewdreamer#greenfeelings#quickedween
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Journal (6-15-24)
I wonder why I am so much more open to writing all my thoughts out in a place where they could be seen, versus just writing them in a Google Doc or a notebook. I don't fucking know, alright? Jeez, I don't have all the answers. Maybe it's accountability or something. Or the false anonymity that comes with having a username.
Or, maybe, it's the fact that we're all scared to be seen, but equally as scared to be unseen.
I like having things. Stuff. Objects. I'm a bit of a hoarder. Little, tiny pieces of trash that mean something to me. I have a lump of clay my old homeroom teacher carved a hall pass into when I was in high school. A hair tie that came from my best friend I was in love with, tied back together after it snapped. The t-shirt I wore to my first ever Warped Tour (fuck, who even remembers Warped Tour), that I've never washed, still covered in paint and reeking of Mary Jane (I don't even like that kind of music, but I think it was the sense of belonging).
There's a letter in my car that my dad typed and printed out and gave to me right before I moved away from home. It stays there, never to be brought into any apartment I moved/move into because that letter feels like home the same way my car does. In a way these apartments never will.
But, above all else, I collect records, vinyls, whatever. I actually collect most things of physical mediums, something tangible for something I like, but none more so than records. I have a spreadsheet that lists all of them, however, I need to update it. Right now, the spreadsheet sits at 197, but it is now well over 200.
I remember the first record I ever owned. I had to scroll through my mom's facebook just to figure out when. Six years ago, almost to the date shockingly, when I was 15. My family and I drove out to Washington to go to a wedding, and there was one day where my dad, my brother, my sister and I went into Seattle. My sister was, (and I apologize profusely if this is wrong now, but I swear it's what it was called) a coach for a special olympics team, and she wanted to surprise her kids and see them at their big game. It was very kind of her, my sister is very kind.
So, my dad dropped her off, and we had a few hours to dink around Seattle. We went to the Kurt Cobain park, even though none of us are big fans of Nirvana (they killed glam, we hold a grudge). And, then, we went to an antique store, Mr. Johnson's Antiques, I don't even know if they're still around today. The only reason I remember the store at all is their business card I've kept all these years. And I had been to plenty of antique stores, seen plenty of LPs and 45s, but for some odd reason, this was the time for me to buy one.
Joe Walsh's But Seriously, Folks...
I was chatting with the worker for awhile, he was cool, my dad was wary (always wary of people who are too nice, I wonder if he'd be wary of me now). I was nothing but a small town queer in a progressive big city. I had always been a fan of old stuff. According to people I both know and strangers I've chatted with, I was born in the wrong generation. I was called eclectic once by a family friend of my neighbors, and that has sorta always stuck with me. Not my sense of style or anything, just me, myself, my whole being, eclectic.
I flipped through all the records that they had, seeing names I recognized, names I would later recognize, and names I didn't know, and still don't know. But, out of all of them, I chose Joe Walsh. Who, I'm sure, I only vaguely knew at the time. But I recognized one song out of the eight.
Life's Been Good
I still think about that store when I hear the song, think about the eclectic man who worked there. And it makes me smile. Frankly, it's the only song on the whole album I can hear in my head, or even have any passing remembrance of.
He gave it to me for one dollar. I don't know if that was the actual price, or if he was just being nice. All in all, the album was (still is, I take care of my shit) in great condition. To me, it is priceless, a one of a kind.
We went and got Arby's after, and I will not stand for Arby's slander, it is gas, and that was our adventure into Seattle.
The albums that followed were Foreigner 4, Foreigner Double Vision, Kansas Overture, and Billy Squier's Don't Say No. I don't know what drew me to those albums, but they feel like home.
Then, the best friend I was in love with, sold me a record player, and that sparked an addiction that rivals nicotine for me.
Don't Say No was my favorite album for a long time, still one of my faves, but there's a few more that have bumped it down a peg. The title track is nothing special, but is has one of the best openings to any album I've ever heard. In the Dark into The Stroke into My Kinda Lover??? Absolutely insane. Great flow. I had to start listening to the album when I started writing this.
Nowadays, the lucrative pedestal for my favorite album of all time belongs to George Harrison's Living in the Material World. I don't remember when or where I'd gotten the album, opposed to the other five I've listed, but I do remember listening to it for the first time, which is a credit the other albums I own cannot possess.
I remember why I bought the album. My rising addiction to owning vinyl coincided with getting into the Beatles (nowadays I almost own all Original Pressings of their albums, my White Album has a serial number), and I bought the album because I wanted to also own solo albums from the Fab Four. Tug of War by McCartney, and Walls and Bridges by Lennon are standouts that I own, both are very good albums.
I must have been sixteen at the time, because this is the moment my life diverged. I remember struggling in school, because for the first time ever I got a C+ in a class. Such a big deal, I know, but I was dead set on going to Northwestern and becoming a Mathematician or Physicist or something smart like that. I had the grades and the history to do so, I was a total geek in school, math, science, history, english came so easy to me. Math makes sense to me, and math ties into everything else I had to learn. Everything was just an equation, and had an answer.
But that class was awful. It was about 3D modeling and stuff and learning how things move and stuff, I don't remember, I hated the class. The teacher was pretty awesome too. Well, the student teacher technically, the actual teacher was usually busy with a million other things to actually teach our class. The kids were alright. It was a bunch of conservative hicks, because it was technically a shop class, but I got along pretty well with most of them, even became friends with some of them.
But I still failed that final, the first time I've ever failed something. Sometimes I got Cs or maybe a D on a final, but that was usually because I didn't care if I passed or failed because I knew I'd still get an A or B in the class. It was a project instead of a test.
My mom would tell me years later, with a few drinks in her system, that she didn't know how to help me. I was crying at the dinner table because I knew I was going to fail the project, and my mom, bless her heart, wanted to help, wanted to see me succeed, wanted my tears to quell, but she didn't know how to help. I'd never needed help with anything before really. I was good at school unlike my brother, I never got into drama with my friends unlike my sisters. Gifted kid burnout I guess.
And I sat at that table feeling like a failure, that I could see all my hopes and dreams crumbling away in that instant (everything seemed like a much bigger deal when you're a kid). And my mom didn't know how to help me because I'd never needed help before.
I don't know why I gravitated towards listening to Living in the Material World. I can only assume, because my collection at the time was less than fifty, that I'd simply already listened to everything else. I simply put the album on the spinner, dropped the needle, and laid down on the floor.
Music, nowadays, is background noise. I can't work without music, but as soon as I heard the opening warm, gentle guitar of Give Me Love, I couldn't do anything but listen. I could feel every inch of skin that touched my scratchy carpet floor (the carpet had never been gutted from that room, mystery stains could write their own memoir). I can feel that same carpet now as I write this.
Give Me Love spoke to me, because I just wanted love like everyone else. Chasing that feeling, holding it close, and hoping it never leaves.
Sue You, Sue Me Blues felt petty and angry despite the timid tone of the song. Made me feel righteous in my hatred of that class, screamed into my head what I wanted to scream at that class. What I wanted to scream at that stupid project while sitting at my dining room table. But it was so timid. Basically saying, why do you need to feel so angry over something as small as this? Why let it consume you? So, just, sue me, sue you. Everyone is sued.
The Light That Has Lighted the World immediately shifted me into sadness. That piano is so fucking heart wrenching. Like watching my dreams shatter. That it was okay to feel upset, that I had the right to. "So hateful of anyone that is happy" is exactly how I felt at the moment. He says something about having changed at the beginning of the song, and I had changed at that moment. I couldn't be helped by my mom.
Don't Let Me Wait Too Long sounds like what my mom wanted to say to me at that table. With her gentle hands and gentler smile. And when she had told me that drunken tidbit, I just smiled at her, because she tried, she was there. And that's all I needed.
Who Can See It, I remember crying during this song during my first listening. Because it told me it was okay I failed that final, that my dreams were crumbling, because it'll get better, I'll find a new a new meaning because my life belongs to me.
Living in the Material World, the title track. Now that I was able to process my failure, this is what I needed. That I would find that new place to belong, a new dream to slot myself into. I may not have it now, but it would come, it would be okay. I think I latched onto the lyric "Just trying to get a message through" because that has sorta become my new dream. To let others feel seen through what I do. To feel like they belong near me.
I remember the record fizzling to silence, and I still just laid there, going through the songs again in my head. Feeling as they blew my mind, resonated in my soul.
When I did finally get up and turn over the album, I still liked the music, but it faded back to background music as I processed the A-Side. I think, maybe, I just haven't needed the B-Side yet. Still very good music, but it hadn't, hasn't, hit me as much as the first six.
When I graduated, I went out and bought a new copy of the album to give to my homeroom teacher. I told him "this album changed my life". The you did too was silent, but I think he got the message. I gave it to him at my graduation party, he didn't stay for very long, but it meant a lot to me that he came. When he left, he told me "I've met your parents now, and so much about you makes so much sense now".
It made me laugh then. Now it makes me kinda wanna cry and smile at the same time. I wonder if he's listened to the album. I wonder if it spoke to him the same way it did me. I wonder if, after listening, so much more about me made sense.
I emailed him recently, told him how much he meant to me.
He told me I was one of the rare ones, not one of the cookie cutters. Eclectic. And if I was ever gonna be back in town, that we should meet up.
I go home in July for a week.
-PCD
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Treefort Roaming Saturday and Sunday (Better Late Than Never)
Treefort Roaming Saturday and Sunday (Better Late Than Never)
The thing about Treefort is you want to spend time roaming, not writing, so this is my Saturday and Sunday captain’s log, and it isn’t finished until Thursday. You may feel free to whip me now.
All I can say is that it was damn cold (the coldest Treefort ever), but damn worth it. To all of the performers that performed through the cold and had their hands feel like they were being pierced by icicles, I salute you. You were all fabulous.
Saturday
Saturday was a new experience that I am grateful to have had. Along with my buddy Tim and his two five-year-old twins, Sydney and Dillion, I got to experience Boise’s unique festival from a kid's perspective. I am happy to report that Treefort is truly kid friendly.
We began by walking down the Greenbelt to the park with Uncle Brian, regaling them with\ stories about the kid-eating trolls that hide outside the tunnels. Five-year-olds love collecting swag, and they did, most notably little cow key chains from Simplot company, but Kidfort was their jam.
I had no idea. Kids get to color their own t-shirts, volunteers show them musical instruments and how they are played, and it’s generally excellent kid mayhem. While we only checked out a few bands in the park, and eating the best corndog ever was spectacular.
Getting Out of the Cold
Once kid frivolity time was over and we returned to the car, it was time to drop me off downtown and get out of the cold. One of Boise’s most favorite venues was plenty warm for a guy totally unprepared to freeze. Nuerolux never disappoints, and it was a reverb day. Perfect.
I went for Disco Doom, a fantastic band out of Switzerland, but caught 20 minutes of Boise-based Porcelain Tongue. To my liking, Porcelain Tongue brings it loud and is undoubtedly a tremendous local act to see if you like to feel your reverb and watch it cause ripples in your friends’ beers.
Switzerland-based Disco Doom released its first new album in eight years, Mt. Surreal, in September 2022, and it was well worth the wait. The band has toured with such greats as Dinosaur Jr, Built-to-Spill, and the Breeders and was a worthy addition to Treefort.
Like so many Treeforts, Disco Doom doesn’t fit in a simple box. Between the guitar distortion on their new album’s title track and the infusion of electronic elements, these guys are outstanding. Gabriele de Mario’s lyrics are laid back amid pulsating sounds, kind of like a grittier version of Beck.
I hope to see these guys again.
The Jackpot
With some time left before going to watch the disaster that was the Gonzaga-UConn basketball game, I stayed to watch You Said Strange, who I’ll be emailing and checking in on today.
I love these guys! Hailing from Normandy, they were pleased when I told them the next day that they were 2023’s Radiohead. Their guitar work is outstanding, with a psychedelic twist. It’s glorious reverb with incredible lyrics and vocals from Eliot.
Even better, they’re fantastic guys! I couldn’t wait to watch them again on Sunday at the Hideout Stage. With their full-length album on the way, I genuinely believe they have the potential to be much bigger and will undoubtedly be doing a longer and larger U.S. tour next year on bigger stages.
Older
As I get older, the nights out until 2 am become far fewer, but after watching a Zags game that nearly brought me to tears, I was off to spend the night at the Olympic, and watch Joe Hertzler and the Rainbow Seekers.
The Olympic is an outstanding venue for any band, but especially those bands that just emanate fun, and that’s Joe Hertzler. If you’re ready to groove, this is your opportunity. The lyrics are fabulous, and the saxophone is spectacular.
Fun, dancing, and smiles resulted from 70 minutes of Bliss. Let’s hope they’re back in town soon.
That’s a wrap
It was time to head home and sleep for what would be a cold Sunday.
Sunday
Sunday wasn’t just cold; it was freezing and the coldest Treefort I’ve ever experienced. Oh man, I felt for everyone playing outside. Having missed my Seattle friends Smokey Brights set, I’m still tempted to email them and ensure they survived.
Heading back for round two of You Said Strange, I started with Plastic Picnic on the main stage. This incredible Brooklyn-based band made up of PNW transplants froze their asses off for our pure enjoyment. How any band could lose feeling in their hands and keep going is beyond me.
Plastic Picnic is dream rock at its finest, navigating happiness and sadness with aplomb. You couldn’t help but just dig in for every song and feel the expressions of love, anxiety, and sorrow. The lyrics can be haunting, the harmony between members is outstanding, and Emile Panerio’s vocals are outright angelic.
Round Two
It was time to watch my new favs, You Said Strange, a second time, and I was so fortunate to spend quite some time with them in the artist’s lounge after. Regardless of whether or not I get to help them develop their North American presence, it was an honor.
I cannot encourage you enough to check them out.
By the way, the free patty melts we ate (I had mine earlier) were so damn tasty. I never knew we get free food!
Finally
Leikeli47 was phenomenal and more than deserving of placement as the ending Main Stage act.
Fun, cheering, dancing, and positivity surrounded you as the crowd pulsed with her totally original rap that felt like a celebration. If there is a fantastic artist that I’d love to meet, she’s it. Please give her finalized trilogy of albums a listen.
Home
Freezing wears you out. A little walking and checking in on the incredible sounds of Space Moth at the new Treefort Music Hall was an excellent finish before heading home to sleep off the cold.
Just a note on the Treefort Music Hall, it’s spectacular. Almost perfectly designed for music, with 180-degree viewing and excellent acoustics. Love it!
As I think about this year’s Treefort, Boise has developed an outstanding music scene. We’re the friendly city where everyone participates and loves to jam. There are no barriers to enjoying the music and no crowd of any certain type or age. It’s everyone, and it’s outstanding.
As I start Psycho Gecko Talent Management, I can’t think of a better city in which to do so.
Brian McKay is a founder of Zenruption Media, a professional writer, and has recently founded Psycho Gecko Talent Management to advance his passion for music. Treefort is his favorite yearly event.
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200930 Variety
How BTS and Its ARMY Could Change the Music Industry
It was just a year ago that BTS’ Love Yourself: Speak Yourself tour was selling out stadiums all over the world. Each night of the 20-date trek, which grossed $116 million, a total of nearly a million ticket buyers around the planet witnessed a thumping opening liturgy at the top of the K-pop band’s set in the form of the song “Dionysus.”
As flames shot up from the stage, seven figures emerged in supplicant white amid Greek columns and a long altar. Rapper RM (full name: Kim Nam-joon) led the way, twirling the staff of the titular mythical deity, as group mates Jin (Kim Seok-jin), SUGA (Min Yoon-gi), j-hope (Jung Ho-seok), Jimin (Park Ji-min), V (Kim Tae-hyung) and Jung Kook (Jeon Jung-kook) flanked him in a display of choreographed precision. The crowd, reaching peak pandemonium in a night full of deafening screams, made willing maenads and satyrs, transported by the band’s presence. An anthem about rebirth and self-discovery through the ecstatic collective experience of music was received as intended — as if from the gods.
Idol worship is by no means a new concept in pop music — remember John Lennon’s provocative statement in 1966 that the Beatles were “more popular than Jesus”? — but there’s something about BTS that turns fandom up to 11. The global brigade of BTS acolytes is collectively known by the acronym ARMY, short for Adorable Representative MC for Youth, a moniker chosen by Big Hit Entertainment, the company that launched the band. ARMY comprises the lion’s share of a Twitter audience that’s 29.2 million followers strong, more than triple that of any other K-pop group, and growing daily. BTS’ Instagram presence of 30.6 million followers (also rising rapidly), is trailed closely only by YG Entertainment’s Blackpink, at 29.3 million.
“It is because ARMY exists that we exist,” Jin says.
To understand the scope of BTS Inc.: An influential 2018 study by the Hyundai Research Institute estimated that the ripple effects from the boy band’s ecosystem contribute roughly $4.9 billion annually to South Korea’s GDP, on track to generate more value over 10 years than the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. The study gauged that in 2017, one in 13 visitors to the country came for BTS-related pilgrimages. That ratio may soon be growing. Spotify has reported a 300% spike in new listeners to the group since the Aug. 21 release of “Dynamite,” BTS’ first all-English single.
The BTS boom has also driven Big Hit to launch an IPO in October projected to raise some $811 million. (Each BTS member will be awarded shares worth approximately $8 million.) Of Big Hit’s revenue in 2019, 97.4% was generated by BTS, including $130 million worth of T-shirts, cosmetics, dolls and other merchandise.
The numbers are no accident. The South Korean government began investing strategically in the arts and the digital economy to help steer the country out of the 1997 Asian financial crisis. On the heels of “Parasite” sweeping the Oscars, the worldwide success of BTS may be another sign to the West that Seoul might be the center of a new force in creative production.
Big Hit, and the K-pop music business in general, have proved just how much a band, and a company, can prosper through a direct-to-consumer relationship, driven by digital platforms and dedicated apps with lots of behind-the-scenes content that keeps fans emotionally involved. It’s engagement on a scale that no Western artist has ever achieved, despite decades of radio promotion and the best retail strategy.
For the global music industry, the band’s success has meant a serious rethink of how a record company — in BTS’ case, Sony Music’s Columbia Records, which distributes the group’s music in the U.S. (though the band is not signed to the label) — builds and maintains a fan base. You could almost look at it as a collaborative arrangement: As music is being made in real time, decision-makers and strategists at Big Hit and Columbia are taking in and processing the comments and views of ARMY and pivoting accordingly.
“It creates a self-sustaining engine that, eventually, becomes hits perpetuating more hits,” says Neil Jacobson, a former president of Geffen Records who runs Hallwood, a talent agency for producers and songwriters. “A label wants that fan connection happening all the time so that they can consistently release and promote music. But in the past, there had always been intermediaries that labels had to talk to in order to manifest exposure. Now, there is a mechanism for an artist to speak directly to their fans. That didn’t exist before, and it has turbocharged the process.”
It’s all led to this “Dynamite” moment: The single has sold nearly 700,000 adjusted song units since its release — good for a gold record certification by the RIAA. The song is quickly becoming the band’s biggest radio hit to date (without a featured artist, it’s worth noting), and represents a significant breakout beyond its core audience. After that, will Grammys follow?
“They check all the boxes,” says Jenna Andrews, the vocal producer on “Dynamite” who also serves as an executive at Sony’s Records label. “I’ve never seen anything like BTS in terms of singing and dancing. This is just an indication of what’s yet to come. They’re going to take over the world.”
Kathryn Lofton, Yale University professor of religious and American studies and author of the book “Consuming Religion,” says that the bond BTS has with its ARMY is different from the typical singer-fan connection because “BTS’ driving commitment is to their relationship to the fan group, to the manufacturing of their communal joy for you to participate in.” It’s why she views BTS as “a religious project; they are seeking to make a togetherness that you can’t stop wanting to be a part of.”
Lofton also makes a point of distinguishing ARMY from the groupies associated with Beatlemania. Sure, BTS fans know the hagiography and backstory of each member, but everything about the band’s output prioritizes the collective over the individual.
The band itself has certainly leaned into the comparison with the Fab Four. For instance, it re-created the iconic moment of the Beatles’ 1964 debut at the Ed Sullivan Theater last May on “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” — in a black-and-white segment that showed the K-pop band performing as mop tops in tailored suits.
But while John, Paul, George and Ringo had spotlight moments of their own, both within and outside the band — songs they wrote individually, causes they took up personally — with BTS, it’s all for one all the time. Unlike many other groups, the members share single, collective Twitter and Instagram accounts, and release even solo material through their shared channel. Accomplishments are never spoken of as belonging to any one group member but rather as the work of the team (and, of course, ARMY). In their videos, they often begin in solo shots but end up together.
This all strays from the typical tropes of Western boy bands including New Edition and ’N Sync, which have all proffered “star” frontmen. The thinking for decades had been that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.
But BTS’ selfless approach didn’t happen randomly: The group was envisioned as a collective to heal the alienation that ails us in the digital age. Its name — “BTS” stands for Beyond the Scene — is an invitation to fans to join them offstage via almost daily video content featuring moments in their intimate if immaculately curated private lives on YouTube, Twitter and Big Hit app Weverse.
In 2011, Big Hit’s revenues from its then-main acts, Lim Jeong-hee and boy band 2AM, were plummeting. As the shadow of bankruptcy loomed, Bang Si-hyuk, now chairman, and Lenzo Yoon, global CEO, felt the company needed a total revamp. They stopped all normal work for months and called on employees to perform market research instead, seeking a new vision and formula.
Bang describes the conclusion they reached in a recent Harvard Business School case study of the firm written by Anita Elberse and Lizzy Woodham: “You would think that with the development of digital technology, people can come together more easily, but we found that it is actually more likely that people will feel more isolated. And so we need to find a way to help them, inspire them and heal them.”
Reflecting on the choice to develop a group that satiated this need, Yoon says in the study: “I think back then in 2011, with the conclusions we drew, we found the wild ginseng, as we say in Korea.”
On “Dynamite,” Big Hit worked with Columbia to further cultivate that ginseng. Pitched by Jacobson to label chairman Ron Perry, who guided and essentially A&R’d the song, worked to radio by Columbia executive VP and head of promotion Peter Gray (who has broken hits for Dua Lipa, Kelly Clarkson and Kings of Leon), and all overseen and informed by the years of management savvy of Big Hit, it’s the kind of artist development that was a music business calling card and that has lost its place in the fast-paced world of digital releases.
Radio exposure is not considered as impactful in Korea as it is in the U.S., notes RM, and so BTS — “maybe naively” — didn’t hit the ground in the U.S. thinking, ‘What can boost our airplay?’” the last time around. Still, RM notes that the band has “100% trust” in Columbia, Big Hit and the greater BTS community. “ARMY and the label are all trying their best,” he says, recounting how in the band’s early days, fans would send bouquets to radio DJs to get their songs on the air.
“Our goal is to try to show ourselves, expose ourselves to ARMY as much as possible,” adds Jin. “There are a lot of platforms now.”
In some ways, BTS’ ARMY has grown into its own force and brought the group along for the ride. In the world of K-pop, the expectation is that entertainers stay far away from politics, but as the genre has grown more global, it has begun to reach a transnational cohort to whom matters of social justice are top of mind.
When Variety broke the news on June 6 that BTS and Big Hit had donated $1 million to Black Lives Matter, BTS fans quickly flocked to #MatchAMillion through a link sent out by the fan charity Twitter account @OneInAnARMY. They hit the financial target in just 25 hours.
Erika Overton, a 40-year-old Georgia resident and one of the co-founders of the account, says of the experience: “It was one of the craziest nights I’ve ever seen. I was on Twitter all night. We were refreshing the page every couple of minutes, going, ‘Oh, my God …’” Witnessing ARMY’s U.S. battalion bring the message of Black Lives Matter to fans in other parts of the world who were unfamiliar with the movement was a “big educational moment that was really, really beautiful to see,” says Overton, who is African American.
What Overton saw was facilitated by networks of fan translators who also turn Big Hit’s Korean content into dozens of languages. Other ARMY groups provide counseling or tutoring services, invent themed recipes or write informational threads on everything from the history of the music industry and how charts work to Jungian philosophy, which deeply informs the BTS albums.
Some fan accounts have even become registered nonprofits, with dozens of administrators spread around the world putting in nearly full-time work on top of their day jobs.
In addition to Black Lives Matter, BTS this year donated $1 million to Crew Nation, a Live Nation campaign to support live entertainment personnel impacted by the coronavirus pandemic. And it has continued its campaign with UNICEF to end child violence. But the band members are reticent to take on the role of global activists. “I don’t consider ourselves as political,” says Suga. “We aren’t trying to send out some grandiose message. We would never see ARMY as a conduit for our voice or our opinion. ARMY speaks their own initiatives, and we always respect their opinions, as we respect any other person’s.”
RM, on the other hand, keeps the door open for a kind of apolitical politics based more on actions than words: “We are not political figures, but as they say, everything is political eventually. Even a pebble can be political.”
The scale of its influence is not something that the group takes lightly. “Our [‘Dynamite’] video has seen 80 million, almost 90 million views in just a day. In a way, that’s very weighty — and almost frightening,” RM told Variety the day after its debut, explaining that the balancing act is often one of how to juggle the burdens of being both role models and artists.
Some Korean scholars feel that BTS’ statement in support of BLM shows how ARMY is actually out ahead of Big Hit, spontaneously enacting its own initiatives to which the company must then respond. “Big Hit thinks they can create a company-dominated [approach to] fandom, but fans are agents doing only what they want, not what they don’t want,” says ethnomusicologist Kim Jungwon of Yonsei University in Seoul. For Kim, the fluidity of ARMY’s unplanned, collective responses “is the possible answer to BTS’ success.”
Candace Epps-Robertson, an ARMY member and assistant professor of rhetoric at the University of North Carolina, says the affirmational content of the group’s lyrics and videos may sound simple, but lay the groundwork for millions of fans to learn to engage critically with each other and develop a transcultural sense of global citizenship. “The message of ‘you, yourself, are enough, and you should love who you are and start with that — I think people miss how radical that can actually be,” she says. “We can’t overlook the power of that as an invitation to people to be part of this community.”
The Grammys, where BTS is eligible for record of the year, among other categories (nomination ballots for the 2021 awards, slated to air Jan. 31, went out on Sept. 28), provide a chance for the group to gain industry recognition as a mainstream contender, not just a K-pop act.
Asked why the Grammys matter so much to them, SUGA seems to bristle a bit at the question. “I grew up watching American award shows, so obviously we all know and I know the importance of the Grammys,” he says. “It’s a dream anyone working in music has.”
RM says having the goal of a Grammy, an industry-voted award, “motivates us to work harder. As SUGA said, if you are in music, the Grammy Awards are something that you cannot help but to look toward and set as an eventual goal.”
BTS’ global influence will soon collide with national duty, and a Grammy Award or three could help maintain its momentum. The band members all have to participate in Korea’s mandatory military service by the age of 28 — and four of them are within two years of that threshold. “Big Hit really wants to target the Grammys before [the members] go into the army,” says an industry source privy to the company’s marketing plans, adding that, from Big Hit’s perspective, it would be best for business if the boys all perform their service at the same time.
The group renewed its contract with Big Hit in 2018, which commits the members to another seven years with the firm, but the army service issue could knock off two years within that time span. A company statement ahead of Big Hit’s IPO shows that Jin, the oldest group member (he’ll be 28 in December), must conscript by 2022 even if he gets an extension of the draft deadline. The statement discloses that plans to prerecord content to be released over the course of any army tenure are being discussed.
South Korea officially changed its rules in July to allow draftees access to once-banned cellphones on weeknights and weekends, meaning BTS could theoretically continue some interaction with fans. However, the taking of photos, video or audio recordings remains prohibited. (Historically, most Korean celebs have fallen silent during their service.)
Soldiering aside, with the push from Big Hit’s IPO, multiple TV appearances — including an ongoing weeklong takeover of “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon” — the chart success of “Dynamite” and growing Grammy buzz, BTS is poised to make some serious noise this fall, which is saying a lot for a group known to shake the decibel scale with a wave or a wink. But perhaps the most significant measure of its ascent is underscored by the frequent speculation of the band’s place in a new moment for the music industry.
“What would it mean not just to include the sound of Korea in the annals of world music, but to actually propose that the South Korean sound is the next chapter?” posits Yale’s Lofton. “What if BTS are actually the next Beatles?”
Source: Variety
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okokok but but consider this - suna as your brother's best friend/ best friend's brother
tags: f!reader, tw age difference, tw size difference (he's a big boy!!), one (1) use of nii-chan in a decidedly suggestive way, suna's a bit of a creep but in like a genuine weirdo way not the pervert way (or is it...)
Ever since high school when he was scouted by Inarizaki, Suna has made two trips back to Aichi prefecture each year to visit his maternal grandparents.
Your brother, his childhood best friend since kindergarten, has always looked forward to his visits home.
You? Not as much.
It's not that you necessarily dislike Suna Rintarou, he's just... your brother's weird friend. Always quiet. Maybe a little irritating when you think about the way he and your brother used to tease you--pulling faces and calling you a baby by virtue of the fact that they happened to be born six years ahead of you. But there was always enough of an age difference between you that the three of you were just never particularly close.
To you he's just some guy who used to make fun of the training wheels on your little pink bicycle.
And to him you're just his friend's kid sister.
"Did I tell you Suna went pro?" Your brother asks as the two of you sit at the low table that serves as the centre point of the living room in your family's home. The kotatsu's quilt has been packed away for the warmer months of the year, and the heater is left off. "He plays in the v-league now for EJP Raijin."
You're sharing a plate of fruit your mother has prepared for you to share in celebration of having both her adult children back under her roof for a few weeks: you, home from college for a portion of your summer break, and your brother home for 9 days on what is doubling as a business trip for his work--though he has no work obligations today if his baggy shorts and faded graphic t-shirt are any indication.
"Yeah, only about eighty times," you say with a roll of your eyes, popping a piece of sliced peach into your mouth. "Why would I care, anyway?"
"I just think it's kinda cool," your brother says excitedly. "Little Rin in the big leagues."
"He's been taller than you since you were nine," you mutter around the piece of fruit stuffed in your cheek.
Your brother curls his lip at you in petty offence, and you respond with a wide, blithe smile.
"He might even be scouted for the national team, y'know," your brother supplies uselessly as you reach for a ruby red strawberry, as though that might be the bit of trivia that sparks your interest. "He'd be going to the olympics."
"The olympics are a frivolous, antiquated spectacle riddled with corruption, that fosters needless overspending, and that continues to platform harmful autocracies as legitimate political powers. The entire institution should have been abolished years ago," you reply, punctuating the sentiment by shoving the entire berry held between your fingers into your mouth.
Your brother blinks at you blankly.
"What the hell are they teaching you at that school of yours?" he asks with an incredulous shake of his head as he pushes himself up from the kotatsu, shuffling off towards the kitchen as he grumbles something about socialism.
"It's called critical thinking, you should try it sometime!" you call after him, but your mouth is still full so you doubt he understands it.
You're left picking around the plate of fruit idly, the warm summer breeze blowing through the open patio doors at the back of your childhood home that lead out onto the covered porch.
The air is heavy with humidity, the kind of atmospheric pressure that harkens an impending storm. The sky has been grey and ominous for the better part of the morning, with the immediate forecast calling for rain. You lean forward with a sigh, resting your cheek against the cool tabletop, wondering when the first drops will fall and the insufferable humidity might finally break.
You let your heavy eyelids flutter shut.
A sharp pain between your eyes is what rouses you from your impromptu nap some time later, though you aren't sure you drifted anywhere past the periphery of consciousness.
You furrow your brow, but the pain is still present. Persistent.
You peel your eyes open, lashes fluttering as you will your bleary gaze to focus, only to see Suna Rintarou standing above you, poking you in the forehead with one long finger.
"You sleep like the dead," he says dryly.
"Oh my GOD!" you yelp, sitting up so abruptly that you actually end up falling back gracelessly onto your ass. You'd been kneeling at the kotatsu, and your legs have fallen asleep, pins and needles prickling through to your feet. "What the HELL, Suna-san!" you bark, cheeks flaring hot as you glower up at him.
"It's actually kind of concerning," he remarks, ignoring your indignation. "Took you like five whole minutes of poking to even crack an eye."
"God, you're so weird," you hiss, rubbing your legs to stimulate blood flow back to your extremities--possibly a little more vigorously than you need to.
"Nice to see you too," he says, expression neutral but eyes alight with a familiar mischief.
"What are you even doing here?" you ask, kneading your thumbs into the plush of your thighs. The hem of your sundress is rumpled from the strange position you'd been napping in, you can't help but notice as you stare down at your lap. You wonder how you'll be able to get the creases out.
"Here to see your brother," the boy above you replies simply, like it should be obvious.
"Well, where is he?" you ask, looking around the room. There's no sign of your brother anywhere, and the house is eerily quiet.
"Not sure, I just got here." Suna shrugs impassively.
"He didn't let you in?" you ask, confused.
"No, I came in through the back," Suna says, nodding towards the open patio doors. You'd forgotten for a moment that Suna hasn't used your family's front door since... well, ever.
"How long were you standing in here watching me sleep?" you ask him sullenly.
"Just long enough to snap this," Suna says, holding up his cellphone were a photo of you slumped against the tabletop lights up the screen.
"Delete that," you order him.
"Don't think I will," he says, clicking the button on the screen to lock the device, the screen going black.
"Suna-san, I swear to fucking god." You force yourself up onto your unsteady legs, taking a step towards him. "Delete it."
"Language," Suna chides you flatly with a click of his tongue, blinking down at you.
Christ, when did he get so.... so...
Big?
He's always been taller than you, but the sheer breadth of him now. The way he towers over you. Looms over you in a way that seems to take up your entire line of sight. It's unexpected and a little off-putting.
But size-difference aside, you're not ready to give up.
"Delete. It," you repeat yourself firmly, reaching for the device he's still holding up in his hand.
You stumble forward on your next step in his direction, your circulation still not quite what it should be, and it sends you toppling straight into the very man you were making every effort to intimidate.
But for all Suna's strength, he's not expecting it, and the two of you end up toppling back across the couch behind him--you resting on top of him and him sprawled on his back.
You pick yourself up slightly, jarred by the sudden fall, using your hands against his firm chest to lift yourself up and look at him.
He's peering down at you when your gazes meet, his dark hair ruffled from the ordeal, his eyes scanning your face.
"Sorry, Suna-san," you say, quiet and embarrassed. You move to push yourself up off his chest, only to notice that his hand is on the small of your back, keeping you there.
"What happened to Rin-nii?" he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it.
You make a confused, flustered sound.
"Er, well,"--you shift away slightly and this time he lets you go, his hand falling onto the sofa without protest as you rest back on your knees between his parted legs--"we aren't kids anymore."
Suna peers at you, his tongue peeking out from between his lips to swipe across them. Your eyes follow the motion without thinking, flickering up to his when you realize what you've done. Your hands curl in your lap, fisting the material of your rumpled skirt.
"No," he says, and the implication of his words makes something skitter hot and fizzling down your spine, "we aren't, are we?"
Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you feel the way the sound shakes the earth. The sudden shift.
The skies outside the patio doors open, and it begins to pour.
#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou x you#suna rintarou#suna x you#suna x reader#hq drabble#hq writing#writing
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𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 CHAPTER 05. OF UNIMAGINABLE CONSEQUENCES AND CHAOS MANAGEMENT
「 In which the Inarizaki Boys' Volleyball Team sometimes test your patience and make you proud of them. 」
✩ pairing. inarizaki & f!manager!reader (platonic)
✩ genre. slice of life, fluff, humour, friendship
✩ warnings. none
✩ wc. 5.8k
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Golden Week: the national week off that everyone looked forward to every 29th of April. Normally, people made sure to spend time with their friends, family, and loved ones over this national holiday. Some went on vacation, while others used the time to take a well-deserved rest.
You, on the other hand, didn't even have a chance to properly enjoy the break because you were stuck in Tokyo along with the rest of the volleyball team. The coaches had booked a five-day training camp with a schedule that was positively packed with practice matches against strong high schools and universities in the area. Frankly, you had expected as much being the manager of a top powerhouse school in the country.
However, you hadn't expected, or could've ever imagined, to be stranded and alone without a teammate in sight on the first day of training camp.
It had only taken a moment: as the team was packing up and waiting for Coach Oomi to drive the rental bus to the front of the building, you had informed Ginjima and Aran that you were going to the washroom and to hold on to your bag until you came back. When you had finished and went back to the front of the school, you were shell-shocked to find no maroon jersey or bus in sight.
You knew that the team was still in Tokyo. You knew they would pick you up eventually. You knew all these things, yet you couldn't help but nearly spiral into a panic.
I'm stuck in Itachiyama of all places. In Tokyo. Without the team. And ohmygodIdon'thavemyphone.
You pursed your lips together as you discreetly swallowed your grievances, desperately fighting the urge to let go of the reigns you had over your emotions and express just how upset and scared you were at being left behind.
But you were all too conscious of your…audience.
Carefully avoiding the gaze of the towering group of boys in yellow t-shirts and dark green shorts, you wrung your hands together and tried to calmly consider your next course of action.
If the team is here, then the coaches must be. I should just—
"You…you're the Inarizaki manager, right?"
You snapped your head up and gulped down the lump forming in your throat as you met the gaze of Itachiyama's captain, "Y-yes."
Iizuna Tsukasa was a household name in the volleyball circuit—and was one of the only names that Atsumu just wouldn't shut up about. Having won the best setter award for the Junior Olympic Cup, your childhood friend had sworn to best the older setter one day and always got fired up whenever Inarizaki faced Itachiyama in any sort of match, practice or official.
He had been extremely fired up at the practice match today though your team had ultimately conceded defeat to the other team much to their frustration.
You furrowed your brows at the thought of your childhood friend and the events that led up to your current predicament. The traitor—no, the traitors had abandoned you. How did the entire team, including the coaches just forget about me?!
You were at war with yourself as you tried to stay composed and collected, hoping that the members of Itachiyama didn't see through your façade.
"So…your team left you?"
Those words were your undoing: you felt your face become hot and your eyes stung a little as you lowered your head in a meek semi-nod.
"Do you have your phone on you?" Komori asked kindly.
"…I don't," you replied after having taken a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself down. It probably helped that the boys were patient and seemed to understand your predicament without you having to explain everything to them.
In fact, the more you thought about your dilemma, the angrier you got at your team. After all, you had told Ginjima and Aran about your whereabouts; you hadn't expected both of them to somehow forget to check up on you.
And the twins! you ground your teeth together, I'd always noticed when one of 'em were missing but they can't even be bothered to do the same for me.
You took another deep breath in and let it all out slowly. "I'd put it in my bag before I went to the washroom. The team probably took it without realizing I wasn't with them and well, y'know left me behind." The last bit came out in a heated grumble. It was easier to let go of your initial anxiety over being left behind when you could channel and pour it all into disgruntlement and irritation—you were more than used to having to solve problems in this headspace given the many troubles your team kindly put you through.
"Heh, you're a sassy one."
"Aren't Kansai girls kinda like that?"
"It's cute."
"Well, in any case, why don't you come with us to the gym? The coaches often let us have free practice after practice matches, so they're in the office right now. I'll go inform them about the situation," Iizuna cut in before shooting you an assuring smile, "we only have our first year manager with us—the other is sick—and she's still a little inexperienced. I'm sure she'll appreciate your company and expertise."
"Expertise?" you echoed dubiously. You could hardly call managing an expertise of yours when you simply rolled with the punches and followed the coaches' instructions most of the time.
"Experience," Iizuna corrected himself after a brief moment of consideration. "She was nervous about overseeing practice without the coaches and our other manager, so I'm sure she'll appreciate you being there."
He patted you once on the shoulder before hurrying off to what you assumed to be the direction of where the coaches were at.
"Welp let's get a move on then, shall we?" an Itachiyama member smiled at you encouragingly, gesturing for you to follow the team.
You followed after a split second of hesitation. It's not like I can do anythin' else.
After the team had filled in their manager about your situation and introduced you to her, she bowed at you nervously, "It's nice to meet you!"
You smiled at her, "It's nice ta meet you too."
"As Iizuna explained to you, we normally have free practice after practice matches. Most of the team has already left by now and some of the bench members are in another gym practicing their individual drills like serves or something," the vice captain, Fukuda told you. "We were actually thinking about practicing our serves today seeing such nice serves from your team today."
You couldn't help the proud smile that spread across your lips, "Well they worked hard on 'em."
"We can tell," the third year wing spiker, Utsubo smirked, "especially that Miya Atsumu. We had a hard time with both his jump floaters and spike serves."
You recalled the fight you had with Atsumu the past week and let out a fond chuckle, "He worked himself to the bone just to nail those serves of his."
"You're childhood friends with the Miya twins, right?" Komori asked good naturedly as you followed the team to the court your team had previously occupied during the practice match.
"You are?" the only first year starting member, Kanehara blinked at you in surprise, pushing the ball cart to the side by the benches.
"Huh, no wonder you can reel them in so well," the other third year wing spiker, Asaoka mused aloud.
"Ah, but Aran-kun and Kita-san help a lot," you replied. "Though I suppose Oomimi-san and Akagi-san help too?"
After all that had transpired in the last month, you weren't sure if you could call them reliable per say, but they certainly weren't as bad as the rest.
Komori laughed, "You don't sound so sure! How about the second years?"
"Those guys? They're the troublemakin' bunch," you scowled, feeling a headache coming on at the very thought of their antics.
"Wow, even Suna and Ginjima?"
"Even them," you nodded solemnly with a half-grimace. "Gin is hotheaded and gets himself into shit while Rintarou is a piece of shit who likes to stir the pot."
"Rintarou…?" Fukuda repeated, "That's Suna, right?"
You flushed and hastily nodded, "Yeah, Suna Rintarou."
Asaoka smiled at you gently, "Sounds like you're close to your team."
"I guess," you nodded, embarrassed to be talking about the boys in such a…gushy way around complete strangers. "I've known the twins since we were in diapers and Aran—Ojiro Aran—since elementary."
"Have they always been that good at volleyball?" Utsubo asked curiously.
You cocked your head to the side and considered his question.
"I…think so?" you frowned as you tried to recall. You've known the twins for so long that it was hard to pinpoint when they got good at volleyball—it's just always been a part of your lives that you didn't think much about the beginnings. Besides, they and the team weren't the types to dwell on the past, only focusing on the present. You continued, "I suppose Osamu was always naturally better at the sport than Atsumu, though."
The team all looked at you in varying degrees of shock.
"Woah, really?" Komori blinked in surprise. Sakusa stared at you with those intense eyes of his.
You nodded, "Atsumu just has this…hunger to be better, grow stronger, and become the best. Osamu's a little more laidback in that sense."
"They seem so evenly matched," Kanehara uttered in awe before shaking his head. "I mean, the ridiculous plays they just pull…they're just on another level."
"Inarizaki is," Fukuda chimed in and turned to you. "Inarizaki is filled with monsters."
You couldn't help the wide smile that took over your lips as you soaked in the praise, "Itachiyama is too, though."
"I think Atsumu might be better because of his serves," Komori mused, bringing the conversation back to the topic of the twins. "I really have to work to get them up properly."
"His serves certainly have become more controlled compared to his past performances," you heard someone murmur from behind you.
Shocked, you turned to face the captain of Itachiyama in bewilderment. The one who'd got the best setter award for the Junior Olympic Cup had praised Atsumu. You were sure your childhood friend would rejoice and want to challenge the setter had he stayed behind.
But he didn't because he was off challenging a different setter of another Tokyo school in a practice match.
Scowling at the unwanted thought, you grit your teeth and inhaled deeply to get a grip on your unsettled irritation. The Itachiyama boys had all been kind and engaging that you'd almost forgotten about the reason you were stuck with them in the first place. Nevertheless, you still couldn't quite wrap your head around just how your team had managed to just up and leave you by accident.
You really hoped it wasn't on purpose. If it was…
"Is something wrong?"
You smoothed out your furrowed brows and scrunched nose as you shook your head in denial, "It's nothing bad. I just remembered my team left me behind…Actually, can anyone spare me their phone so I can call 'em?"
"Sure," Iizuna nodded as he shoved his hand into his pocket and fished out his cellphone.
Iizuna-san's nicer than everyone on my team combined—and that's sayin' somethin', you thought as you softly thanked him when he handed you his phone.
"It's no problem. We'd gladly lend a hand for the damsel in distress," Iizuna smirked teasingly as the rest of the team, excluding Sakusa who had chosen to stand a few feet away from the crowd, nodded behind him with their thumbs up.
You couldn't help but look away from their cheeky grins because it was a tad bit embarrassing being described as a 'damsel' when you were far from it with your own team. For the most part, they treated you like another one of the guys when you hung out with them or an overbearing parent when you got on their asses about yet another one of their antics.
"Oh, by the way," Iizuna cut in before you could even type in a number, "our coaches got a hold of your coaches. They said that you will have to wait with us until your team is done with their schedule for today."
"Ah, alright, thank you for telling me," you bowed to the third year, "but I think it'd be better if I spoke with the team myself, so do you mind…?"
The captain shook his head, "Go ahead. I'm sure your team would like to hear from you."
You gave him a grateful smile before dialing one of the few numbers you had memorized off the top of your head. You held the phone up to your ear and waited patiently for the person to pick up, ignoring the curious gazes of the group of boys and their manager around you.
"Hi…who's this?"
"Ah, Aran-kun."
"[Name]!?" you heard Aran screech followed by an uproar of voices on the other side.
"[Name]?!"
"Is that [Surname]?!"
"Put her on speaker!" you could hear someone holler over the receiver.
Although you had been beaming in pride on their behalf just a few minutes ago, hearing all of the team's voices filtering through your phone really impressed on you that you were truly alone, that they had truly forgotten about you. It was probably immature of you to stubbornly hold on to your annoyance at them, but you had been scared and embarrassingly close to tears when you realized you were on your own in an unknown city.
"I'm assuming y'all can hear me?" you inquired before hearing a chorus of affirmatives from your team. "Well then…what the fuck?"
From your peripheral vision, you could see a few of the Itachiyama boys flinch away from you.
There was a tense silence both over the phone and in the gym you were standing in.
"Ginjima-kun. Aran-kun."
"Y-yes?!"
"H-here!?"
"I swear I told both of ya that I was gonna be in the bathroom and ta look over my stuff in the meanwhile," you started, your voice growing colder and colder with each word that came out of your lips, "or am I just imaginin' things?"
"I…ya told us…" Ginjima replied nervously.
"I see," you said. "I also swear that I've done the same for both—no, actually for all of ya. Y'know waiting for you lot and making sure none of you got left behind."
No one dared to utter another word.
"I heard that the coaches sorted things out and yer gonna pick me up after y'all are done for today," you sighed, suddenly feeling too exhausted to hold on to your frustration. "We'll talk then."
"Yes, ma'am!"
You rolled your eyes in good nature before hanging up the phone and turning to the Itachiyama team who all looked at you with a mix of respect and trepidation.
"Thank you for lendin' me your phone, Iizuna-san," you said as you offered the phone to its rightful owner.
"No problem, got things sorted out?" he accepted his phone and raised a brow.
You sighed for the nth time of the day, "I guess so."
"Then, we'll be entrusting you as one of our managers for today," he smirked before lowering himself into a bow.
The team, even Sakusa, followed suit and bowed at you, leaving you standing there gaping like a fish out of water.
You supposed you had no real reason to be as shocked as you were. Inarizaki was considered an elite school feared and respected by many of their peers, but you were all knowing of their unruly and headache-inducing antics. Still, you hadn't expected Itachiyama of all schools to have their own brand of chaos that had you reeling and shockingly missing your team. It wasn't that your team wasn't bad per say but you knew how to deal with them. You were entirely unfamiliar with the Tokyo team and didn't know how to approach this.
While you and Itachiyama's manager had been busy filling up the water bottles for the players, the team had managed to…get themselves into something.
You hadn't quite seen a sight like this with your team.
All the boys were congregated to a wall seemingly regrouping after something had happened that left Utsubo propped up against the wall with a few scrunched up bloody tissues surrounding him.
You helplessly looked to the first year manager who just looked exhausted simply seeing them; a look you empathized with heavily.
"They sometimes do this exercise where a spiker will spike at the corners of the gym to control the power and spin of the ball," she explained to you in a low voice, not wanting to attract the attention of her team quite yet. "Sakusa-san apparently did that a lot in junior high which inspired the team to give it a go."
In spite of the concerning sight that beheld you, you couldn't help but be impressed by Sakusa's work ethic. "Well, it paid off considerin' Sakusa's spikes are notoriously difficult to receive," you nodded in acknowledgement before glancing back at the team. "But we really oughtta do something about…that."
"Ah, yes, you're right," the younger girl turned bright red. She let out a shaky breath before she took a decisive step towards her team. "Iizuna-san, w-would you mind explaining what happened?"
The starting lineup of Itachiyama all jerked their heads towards you both in surprise, evidently not having noticed you and their manager.
"We…uh, we did the Sakusa drills?" the captain answered sheepishly, having caught your disbelieving gaze.
"Sakusa drills?" you echoed.
Sakusa scowled and averted his eyes from you, "I told them not to call it that."
"But you're the one we took inspiration from!"
"Yeah, we—"
"Well, would anyone like to explain to me what these…'Sakusa drills' are?" you cut in before the team could derail the initial point of the conversation you'd begun (though you were going to have to address the real concern right after).
They all looked at each other a little nervously and you were hit with a sense of déjà vu.
"It's this thing that Sakusa often does," Iizuna sighed and started explaining on behalf of the team. "We go to the corners of the gym and spike the ball at the walls, trying to get them to ricochet off of each other, going from one wall to the other."
You blinked as you tried to process the captain's rather confusing explanation. You turned to the Itachiyama manager helplessly once more but before she could do anything, Sakusa sighed and grabbed a ball off the floor.
"Like this," he said before walking to a corner and demonstrating the so-called 'Sakusa drill.'
You watched in awe as Sakusa spiked the ball perfectly as it hit one wall and bounced off to hit the other. He caught the ball as it fell towards him and turned to you expectantly.
"O-oh, that's impressive," you nodded, temporarily forgetting about Utsubo and his bloody nose. It was hard to tell but Sakusa seemed somewhat pleased with your response as he nodded back at you, his face and posture a touch more relaxed than it had initially been around you.
No wonder he is part of the top three aces in the high school circuit. I wonder if I should tell the team about—
"Wait," you blinked again. "How did Utsubo-san get injured? Did he get a ball to the face?"
Sakusa looked away from you with a slight pout when you directed your gaze at him. You then turned to face the team instead.
"Sort of?" Fukuda rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back at his injured teammate.
"We split up into pairs," Asaoka jumped in. "Spiking and receiving pairs. Utsubo paired with Sakusa and he'd gotten a little too close to Sakusa after he spiked. Sakusa accidentally elbowed him and he got a spike to the face."
"W-what?" the Itachiyama manager looked back at her injured senior in pity. "Utsubo-san got…both?"
"Yeah, an elbow and a ball," Kanehara nodded.
You couldn't help but stare up at the Itachiyama team with wide eyes and a slack jaw. While your team certainly got their fair share of scrapes, bruises, and bloody noses, you couldn't recall anyone taking an elbow and a ball to the face.
At that point, it's just the work of the Gods, you shook your head in disbelief. Utsubo-san must be cursed or something.
You snapped out of your trance at the sight of the first year girl paling and shooting you desperate looks that screamed help! You swiftly gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring smile before straightening out your maroon jersey, preparing to get into what Atsumu had labelled your 'demon manager mode.' To your amazement, you managed to get all of their attention with a quick clear of your throat.
"Has Utsubo-san's nose stopped bleedin'?" you asked sternly, wanting Itachiyama to settle down and focus on the issue at hand.
"For now," Komori nodded.
"Sakusa-san," you turned to the ace, "on a scale of one to ten, how hard do ya think you elbowed Utsubo-san in the nose?"
Sakusa scrunched up his face in displeasure, presumably at the question, but answered nonetheless, "Maybe six."
You bent down towards the injured player, "Sorry but do ya mind if I see yer nose? Just wanna check if it's broken."
He shook his head and removed the bloody tissue from his nose. It was certainly red but you were surprised to see that his forehead was pretty red and swollen as well.
"Does your forehead hurt?"
"Yeah, I think I feel a headache coming," Utsubo responded with a grimace.
You turned to the group behind you, "Someone, please get Utsubo-san an ice pack and some more tissues. If you can't find any, just get a towel."
"On it!" the manager immediately jumped into action and scurried out of the gym.
"I'm no expert but I think Sakusa-san elbowed Utsubo-san's forehead before the ball hit him in the nose," you deduced from what little information you got. "I'd expect an elbow to do more damage than a nosebleed."
Iizuna nodded as he gave you an impressed look, "I think you might be right—a Sakusa level six is probably harder than the average six."
Utsubo merely groaned in agreement.
You weren't quite sure what to make of their unique way of scaling pain, but you supposed anything Sakusa did amplified the amount of pain one normally felt. After all, he was one of the top high school aces in the nation.
You studied Utsubo's forehead again and winced, "That might bruise so be sure to ice it properly, Utsubo-san."
You were glad that the twins weren't here to challenge the ace—they surely would've jumped for the opportunity to replicate the aforementioned Sakusa drill. Sure, the drill itself made for good practice but the way Itachiyama had gone about it was…risky to say the least. Had it been your team, you would have been downright furious at them for trying something so recklessly stupid.
"Next time, please do not pair up in spike-receive pairs," you crossed your arms over your chest and gave the team an unimpressed look, deciding it was for the best to scold them for their actions. "I think the Sakusa drill is excellent practice for ball control, but receiving it is…well, plain stupid."
The Itachiyama starting lineup all looked away from you in shame.
"For one, stuff like this," you gestured vaguely to Utsubo, "can happen again and y'all can get worse injuries from it—believe it or not, I'd say Utsubo-san's rather lucky he only got away with a bruised forehead and a bloody nose. Also, who's to say one of ya won't overshoot and crash into the wall or somethin'? From what Sakusa-san has shown me, the space between the ball and the walls sometimes isn't even that big. If ya only pay attention to the ball, then you can very well underestimate your surroundings. This ain't an open court. You are literally facin' a wall."
You took the time to meet each and every single one of the members, "Well, just don't pull that again. I'm sure if your coaches find out, they'll rip you a new one anyway."
They all paled.
"Get cleanin'."
Everyone immediately got moving on their feet, even Utsubo who got up with the assistance of Asaoka and Iizuna.
You took a step back and heaved a sigh of relief, running a hand through your hair. The trouble Itachiyama got into was very similar yet very different from the trouble your boys got into. You simply weren't used to Itachiyama's shenanigans and had resorted to just treating them like your own team—albeit with less sass and exasperation since you still didn't know them all that well. Truth be told, if the younger manager hadn't essentially pleaded for you to take control of the situation, you may have just let them run their own shit show.
You brushed aside any lingering thoughts and started picking up the scattered balls and throwing them into a nearby cart.
"How do you do it?" you heard someone ask you in a small voice.
"Hmm?" you turned to face the Itachiyama manager just before you threw another ball away. "How do I do what?"
"How do you know what to do? With the team?" she inquired meekly. "You don't even know them that well but you still managed to get them to listen to you. It's the same with senpai too…"
"'Senpai'…as in the other manager of your team? The one who's sick?" you clarified and waited until the first year girl nodded in response. "Well, we just have more experience than you that's all. And frankly, I wouldn't have known how to deal with your team had it not been for you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you," you shot your junior a kind smile. "I know you sometimes feel out of your element being around such talented players but trust me, you know your teammates more than you think you do."
"I-I do?"
"Of course," you laughed, "I mean, I just learned a bunch of their names today!"
"Oh…" she flushed.
You shook your head before continuing off your original point, "You were able to properly access the situation and inform me what likely happened. Ya weren't there to see it but you guessed correctly which tells me that you are already familiar with yer team's antics. You also knew to prompt Iizuna-san into explainin' what had happened while we were gone. I would have just shot at the dark and hoped for the best."
"But…you reproached them for their actions too," the younger manager pointed out. "I don't think I would have been able to do that."
"Ah, that's understandable," you nodded. "I mean, a whopping six of them are yer senpai so it probably isn't easy for ya to just be straight up with them and lay down the facts. But in all honesty, I just treated them like my own team, though a lot…nicer? More patient? Well, in any case, I felt a little out of my element too y'know. I know my team well and just got lucky that what I usually do with my team worked with your team."
"I see…"
You glanced at the first year girl again and gave her an encouraging smile, "Listen, I don't think there is a right or wrong way of managing a team. The team's gonna change every year and yer gonna have to adjust to that. Just trust yourself. No one's expecting ya to be perfect. I'm far from it myself. But lemme tell ya, it's a lot easier when you get closer to them."
"I…don't think I'm close to them yet," the younger girl confessed.
"Yet," you repeated before you picked up a ball and passed it over to her. "You still have time, so I wouldn't worry. It's only natural that yer feeling a little out of your element but you'll get used to it with time. Just be patient with yourself."
"Alright," she smiled up at you, "thank you for your advice, [Surname]-san!"
"No pr—"
You were interrupted by the abrupt call of the Itachiyama manager's name. She startled and turned to see Kanehara waving at her.
"Sorry, but do you mind helping me here?" he called out from across the gym.
You exchanged a knowing glance with the younger manager and quirked a brow up, "Go ahead, manager-san."
She laughed and stalked off in the direction of her fellow first year. You watched as the first year duo laughed and joked around, evidently more comfortable around each other than with their older teammates.
For a brief moment, you swore you could see your younger self with the rest of the second years, all huddled up and relying on each other to get through the awkwardness of having to get along with your seniors as the newbies of the team.
After having been on the receiving end of your lectures, you could practically feel the anticipatory and gleeful gazes of Itachiyama watching the scene in front of them.
You couldn’t blame them.
Even Kita was lowering his head to you in shame as you stared down at the kneeling members of the Inarizaki boys' volleyball team. Hell, even Suna looked thoroughly chastised and ashamed. Had you not been as irate as you were, you would probably find the scene in front of you amusing as well. Alas you weren't in the mood for fun and games. You had a rather tiring day all because of them.
And you didn't even want to think about what would have happened had it been the last day of the training camp.
"You dunces abandoned me," you started in a deceptively light tone.
You didn't think it was possible but somehow, your team managed to look even more nervous and scared under your sharp watchful eyes.
No one dared to say a word or even move.
"You dunces abandoned me in Tokyo," you corrected yourself with a placid smile, "and there are…how many of ya? Around twenty?"
No one dared to answer you.
"Twenty members did not deem it necessary to do a headcount at the very least? Y'all always add me in these headcounts so surely you coulda checked to see if you—I dunno—maybe forgot your freakin' manager?"
You had tried to stay calm but you glared at the herd of boys and balled your hands into tight fists.
Dammit. Seeing them made you remember just how scared and panicked you had been when you first realized your team had left you alone in Itachiyama. Sure, the reaction probably wasn't entirely rational, considering the team was going to stay in the Tokyo area for the next four days and would surely pick you up. But you had been scared. Your mind had simply jumped to the worst possible outcome.
"We're very sorry!"
You jumped as your teammates all apologized to you in one voice before promptly bowing to you in unison.
A moment of silence followed as everyone, including Itachiyama, watched as the entire Inarizaki team bowed their heads on their knees with their foreheads nearly touching the gravel.
"R-raise your heads!" you exclaimed, snapping out of your daze and ushering your teammates to get up. "What if one of you scrape yer—"
Your eyes zeroed in on a bloody forehead amongst the sea of heads staring up at you.
"Riseki!"
"H-huh? W-what is it, [Surname]-senpai?" the first year looked up at you with his brows raised and eyes wide in alarm.
"Yer forehead!"
"Huh?"
The rest of the team turned to look at Riseki.
"Ya were too enthusiastic with yer apology, Riseki!" Ginjima managed before he burst into peals of laughter and nearly fell over an unimpressed Suna.
"Hey," the latter protested as he pushed Ginjima away from him and into Kosaku.
"How did you miss?" Kita glimpsed down at his hands in confusion.
"Yer hands, yer hands!" Aran waved his own hands around before folding them neatly on top of one another above his head. "You should've rested your forehead on your hands, Riseki!"
"We even counted down and all," Osamu said.
"Yeah, like we said we would," Atsumu nodded.
"Riseki, control yourself next time," Akagi said as he pat Riseki, who sat to his right, on the back with a shake of his head.
"Next time?" you echoed in exasperation. "Can'tcha just…not?"
Extra: The Birth of (Another) Demon Manager
"Man…the Inarizaki manager sure is scary."
Almost all of the Itachiyama team nodded fervently in agreement, thinking back to the events that occurred the other day.
"Did you hear how she spoke with Ojiro Aran over the phone?" Asaoka recalled with a slight shudder.
"She even got Kita to bow to her," Fukuda shook his head in slight amazement and awe. "I pegged him as the icy sort of unflappable type."
Kanehara glanced between his seniors with a frown, "Forget her own team, what about how she dealt with us?"
"Do you reckon all Kansai girls are like that?" Utsubo mused nonchalantly.
"I thought she'd be more…docile? She looked like she was about to cry when we first saw her," Komori said, tapping his chin as he thought back to their encounter with the Inarizaki manager.
"She got abandoned by her own team in a region far from home," Iizuna rolled his eyes. "I don't blame her for being a bit panicked and scared. I'd be mad at you guys too if you just up and left me in Inarizaki."
Sakusa gravely nodded in agreement.
"If anybody leaves me alone, I'm going to report you to the coaches. We'll see how you like your drills then," the first year manager accidentally blurted out after considering how uncomfortable it'd be just surrounded by strangers without an inkling as to where her team went.
Nobody spoke, shocked by the harsh words she had unthinkingly blurted out. They shared bewildered looks over her head, wordlessly swearing to make sure they didn't repeat Inarizaki's mistake.
She seemed to have caught on to the fact that she hadn't managed to filter herself and flushed before stalking away from them and to the third year manager.
"…Kanehara."
The first year boy flinched, "Y-yes!"
"Has she always been like that?" Iizuna asked with furrowed brows.
"I…don't know?"
The third years all exchanged a knowing look before taking a quick peek at their third year manager.
"Well, good luck," Utsubo patted Kanehara on the shoulder much to the latter's confusion.
"You too," Asaoka nodded at Sakusa and Komori.
"W-what?"
"Being a manager is tough work," Fukuda stated in an all too serious voice, "don't underestimate them."
"Seriously," Iizuna gave a resolute nod.
© 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, share, repost, or translate my works.
#꒰ 글 — from.essie ꒱#꒰ 글 : 낮✧ ꒱#꒰ 글 ꒱ — inarizaki memories#inarizaki x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#suna rintarou x reader#suna x reader#kita shinsuke x reader#kita x reader#ojiro aran x reader#aran x reader#akagi michinari x reader#akagi x reader#oomimi ren x reader#oomimi x reader#ginjima hitoshi x reader#ginjima x reader#riseki heisuke x reader#riseki x reader#itachiyama x reader#haikyuu fic#haikyuu fluff
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