#dream 11 players

[yesistolethisurl]

still under the firm belief that bg3 draconic bloodline sorcerers should get wings at level 11

[beom1e]

what a shame! masterlist

had jake not let a minor hit to his ego get the best of him, you wouldn’t have spent the last five years pretending he didn’t exist. but now that game was over, following an incident leading you to be transferred over to his university. and after a friend of his takes interest in you, it becomes impossible for you to avoid him any longer.

pairing soccer player! jake x volleyball player, fem! reader

genre humour, angst, fluff, suggestive, childhood best friends au, enemies to lovers, second lead! heeseung, university au

warning arguing, jake being mean, cursing

profiles

1 — funded by jay

2 — severe fomo

chapters

0 — prologue

1 — oh womp womp

2 — bread winner..

3 — risked it all

4 — nike staff room

5 — sky is green

6 — the L word

7 — heeseung yes

8 — insane

status ongoing.

taglist 11 / 50 @dreamiestay @sseastar-main @sumzysworld @lovesimjaeyun @jakeshuneybby @indigoez @thing89 @jaehoonii @jakeslucifer @i03jae @pkjay @haechansbbg @rikizm @en-dream @vixensss @minfolio @winuvs @sakanelli-afc @gravytr4in @lostinneocity @unhakki @woninluv @realrintaro @flaminghotyourmom @joyzluvr @jentlecoeur @woorcve @rawrszh @rairaiblog @lisaswifey @chaconadine @s0urcherry @jinostooth @jjhyn @heelariously @ilovejungwonandhaechan @fae-renjun @yorukoshii @heelovesmeknot

jul. 2024

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Bachira Meguru assuming he's unlovable.

Being called a monster for their whole childhood really makes a mark on a person's life and self-esteem. But for Bachira, they were unavoidable.

At first, he tried to ignore the mean comments and pretend he didn't hear them. Maybe that would make the loneliness go away. Maybe it would make the problems disappear.

"He's a freak!"

"Eww, don't get too close to Bachira! You'll get lice!!"

"He's stinky"

He heard the whispers. He just used to pretend he didn't. For both his and the children's sake. So he could pretend he was normal. At least for a while.

And, sometimes, even parents, grown-ass adults, called him weird. Shouldn't they set an example for their kids? They tell them: "Don't judge other people! You never know what they're going through!", but are always the first to talk shit about someone, even if said someone is a little kid.

"Poor kid. It's probably the parents fault."

"He says sees a 'monster'! He's probably schizophrenic."

"My son is afraid of him. Specially when he's playing soccer. He said he's very scary"

He tried to ignore them. He really did. He tried to smile through it all and treat people the same way he always had nevertheless: with respect. Because crying would make his problems real. He didn't want them to be real. And he was doing a good job at it! But one faithful day, he snapped. The final nail in the coffin.

"When I grow up, I want to be a football player, just like Zico!" 11 year old Bachira said, showing the whole class a drawing of him, Zico and his monster playing soccer together. His smile was as bright and blinding as ever, specially because he was talking about his passion: soccer. He loved it so much. It helped him escape the harsh reality for a while.

The class went silent. They used to think Bachira was weird, to put it slightly, but this? It just made him even more weird! They all knew that he could never be a football player. He was an outcast. A freak. He was a monster. And monsters couldn't live with humans. Nobody wanted a monster on their team.

And so, instead of clapping like they did with the other kids' drawings, the class started to laugh. It started out quiet, but later it turned into a full, loud laugh. All of them. And Bachira always dreamed of making everyone there laugh, but not like this. They weren't laughing with him or because of him, they were laughing at him.

"Uh? What's happening, miss?" He asked the teacher, confused and on the verge of crying. He couldn't cry here. Not in front of them, please. That would be another thing for them to laugh at.

He swears on his life that he heard the teacher laugh a little, before the adult crouched down to match his size, grabbed his drawing and put it on his desk, while the other kids' drawings were being stuck to the board with tape. And then, he heard one of the worst sentences he ever heard in his life. One that he knew would definitely keep him awake at night:

"Meguru, being a football player is too hard for you. Why don't you settle for something more real and reachable? Like a doctor or a lawyer?"

He didn't understand. Some kids here wanted to be astronauts, others wanted to be models. Hell, one wanted to be a dinosaur babysitter. And their drawings were hanging on the wall, like they were going to be achieved. Bachira felt like no one believed in him. Like he was being put aside.

He then realized the problem wasn't what he wanted to do. It was him. Anyone could be a football player, but he couldn't. Because he was a monster. He was different from others.

And so, the tears began to fall. One by one, first from his left away and then from his right eye. His vision began to blurry. Left eye, right eye. Left, right, left right. Kids laughing, teacher laughing. His drawing on the desk. Left, right. Left right. He couldn't even see his own hands anymore from how blurred his vision was. He looked to his side. Left, right. The door. His escape. He needed to leave.

So, without second thought, Bachira ran towards the door. He couldn't care less for the teacher calling his name. He wouldn't come looking for him anyway. Nobody would. Nobody cared enough to do it.

He sat behind a tree, protected by it's shadow. He continued to cry. Hard. He put his hands in his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling, but he couldn't. He needed to let it all out. He just wished he had someone by his side during his breakdown. He really wanted a shoulder to rely on.

"Hey"

Maybe he was, indeed, schizophrenic. Because, the moment he looked up, he saw a girl he swore was too pretty to be real. The sunset made her have an angelic glow, and the wind made her hair flow just the right way. Her face was like a greek statuate, and he swore he could hear a soothing symphony playing in the background when he met her eyes: they were the most beautiful color he had ever seen, and he could imagine himself being lost and found in them. She was just too pretty. Too pretty to be here for him. And so, he managed to stop crying for a while and said, between sniffs:

"Did you lose a bet?"

The way your face contorted was almost comic.

"What?"

"Did someone pay you to come here? Where are the cameras? And how much was it?"

"I didn't lose any bet" you said, frowning. "I came here to check on you because I wanted to. I don't get why everyone laughed at you. Your dream is not stupid. Nobody's dream is."

"Even Richard's? He said he wants to be a dinossaur nanny" he said before he even thought about it. He then widened his eyes, because what if you were Richard's friend? What if you hated him now because he said something bad about your friend? What if he already screwed everything up? What if...

"Okay, you win. That one's actually stupid." You laughed. He made you laugh. This time, someone was laughing because of him. He felt like he was capable of everything at that moment. Your laugh was a sweet, infecting, honey-like melody. It made him wanna laugh too. He didn't realize it, but he had already stopped crying, and was now just staring at you with big, blown and unwavering eyes. His mouth slightly parted, like he was studying you and comitting everything about you to memory. Almost as if you were indeed an ilusion, and would disappear the second he blinked. He couldn't believe you were real. You were real, and you were talking to him.

After a while, you stopped laughing and finally noticed his intense staring. Suddenly bashful, your cheeks turned a bright red.

"I-I just want you to know that you shouldn't be ashamed of your dream. I think- no, I'm sure you can achieve it. You just have to work hard for it. I-I've seen you playing sometimes, and it's honestly amazing how focused you are. Bachira, I want to be your friend. That's it, if you'll let me-"

He hugged you. Hard. If it was any other time, he would have been afraid of scaring you off with the sudden hug, but he couldn't care less right now. He needed this. He needed a friend. You were just what he needed. You were perfect.

He started to cry again. This time, the first tear came out of his right eye. Right, left. His vision was getting blurred from how hard he was smiling. Right, left. Right, left. Your arms hugging him back. Right, left. The sound of the school bell, signalizing the end of the school day. People would see you and him hugging and you would probably be called weird by them for being next to him, but you still didn't break the hug. Right, left.

He didn't want to escape like he did during the class incident. No. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted time to stop, to be in your arms for eternity. He didn't want to pull away. He finally made a friend. You were his first friend.

Bachira Meguru used to think he was unlovable, but you proved him wrong. You proved he could, in fact, be loved. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a freak. He was Bachira Meguru. Your best friend. And he wore that title with pride. Later on, he had the honour to be called your boyfriend, and he was even prouder of that one.

He used to think he would never find happiness. That's why, the moment the ref blew the whistle signalizing the end of Japan U-20 against Blue Lock eleven match and securing Blue Lock's victory, he couldn't think of anything else besides his girl. He ran across the field to you. Because you were like a magnet. He couldn't be apart from you, or else it felt like the whole earth would explode. He was yours and you were his. You both were meant to be.

"You did it! I love you, Meguru!"

He laughed. A pretty, genuine laugh followed by a couple of tears, beginning from his right eye, of course. His mother was recording behind you both, the blue lock team was smirking and whistling at the sight of you two and the television was streaming the moment for the whole world to see. But neither of you cared about the extra eyes. You were the only ones on the world. You always made him feel like that, and he hopes he makes you feel that way, too.

"I love you so much. Thank you."

Thank you for being with me. Thank you for being there. Thank you for not leaving me. Thank you for accepting the title of being my girlfriend proudly. Thank you for being you. Thank you for everything. Thank you.

He then lifted you and spun you in the air, smiling hard. He brought your lips closer and then kissed you. A kiss full of emotion and love. So much love: raw and pure.

You proved he wasn't just lovable. He was also capable of loving. And there's nothing prettier than loving someone.

Bachira Meguru was lovable, and you made sure to show him that. You loved him, and he would do everything to keep it that way forever.

~A/N: there's a "saying" that says that if you're crying and the first tear is from the left eye, you're crying from sadness. If the first tear comes out of the right eye, they're happy tears!!

Masterlist

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Your story goes deeper than what meets Alexia’s eye

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. aditionally, alexia is pretty mean in this and there wont be a happy ending for a few parts 😬

A/N: massive thank you to this request for the amazing idea 🫶🏼. r is 18 y/o but still going under teen!reader. this is going to be multiple parts because theres so much i could do for this request that i find impossible to fit into one part and write to a good standard, so here you go!

The Stands

Football unites the world. It brings people, cities, and countries together, like nothing else.

You’ve seen it happen in your beautiful hometown of Barcelona — all you can see during the hours leading up to any match set to be played in the Camp Nou is red and blue in the sky. Blaugrana painted the streets below, and the entire city came alive with the commotion from the stadium.

You spent your entire childhood being part of the roaring atmosphere, waving your Barça flag proudly in the air alongside every other flag and wearing the infamous colours across your chest.

Most of all, you prayed with every bit of faith in you, that one day you’d be on the pitch, playing for the club of your dreams.

Everyone in the crowd had their own individual life. There could be a single mother, a lawyer who used up his last days of leave to attend the match, a young boy with his father, an elderly person on an outing with his wife, someone from abroad who’s spent thousands and travelled for hours to watch their favourite player in real life.

11 players could bring together almost 100,000 people just to watch them kick a ball around, and you wanted to have the same effect. You wanted to be so good at football and have the ability to transform a simple sport about kicking a ball around into 90 minutes of entertainment, performance, art. You wanted to do it with Barcelona.

You trained meticulously for months. You passed your small, worn out ball against the same fence in your backyard, you practiced your touch by juggling until the frustration made you storm away in tears and you learned new skills and used your own shoes as cones to pose as defenders and dribble around.

When you went to the Camp Nou to trial for the renowned La Masia academy, you were little and clutching your FC Barcelona backpack for support. The stadium already looked so big when you were up in the stands, but when it was empty and you were actually on the pitch, it was even bigger. You were stood on the same grass as your idols that once had the same dream as you, and that was unbelievable.

The start of your journey as a player at FC Barcelona had begun.

Day after day, you woke up early for training. Your siblings were never awake at that time, so the rare moment of peaceful alone time with your mother was something you looked forward to every morning.

She drove you to the La Masia facilities and then picked you up at sunset. Sometimes, when she had to work late, you and some of your teammates would go to the park and play with the other local kids until your parents came.

Those were the same teammates that you got promoted to the B team with, and the evening 5-a-side games in the park never stopped. They were your best friends — you all shared a common dream of getting to the first team and playing in big tournaments and winning titles, and even though you realistically wouldn’t all be able to do that, no one ever stopped believing that one day it would happen.

As you grew up and your career just started to take off, things started to change. Not just in football, but your life off the pitch too. All at the age of thirteen.

Your father started coming home late. As if your mother was stupid, he’d waltz into the house in the middle of the night, claiming he had to stay a little late because a last minute meeting was called or he lost track of the time. The mild arguments started, and when the late arrivals became more frequent, your mother’s suspicions grew stronger.

One night, it came to a halt. Just when you stopped expecting it, he came home at his regular time; half past six. The only difference was, he didn’t look happy to be home at all. A frown tainted his face ans there was something off-putting about his demeanour. Soon, it all made sense.

You watched from around the corner, your head barely peeking out. Your dad shrugged his blazer off, and you noticed the way his mouth twitched as if hesitating to say something. Once he spoke, a big part of you wished he hesitated a bit more and realised down the line that he was making a bad decision, but it was too late.

The reason he was working late, the secrecy, the floral smells that lingered on his shirts; he was never working overtime, the floral smells were not from the diffuser in the office, and he did have something to hide.

It was called infidelity.

Your siblings emerged from their rooms as soon as the cacophonous yelling started, and you were quick to usher them away from the arguing.

The reality of how bad the situation really was hadn’t yet settled in, but you knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good.

Your youngest brother complained about his rumbling stomach, and the other two were quick to jump on the hunger train. For a moment you were stumped, because you didn’t want to go into the kitchen where the argument was taking place and get dragged into it, so your solution was grabbing a €50 bill and sneaking out to the nearest restaurant.

You were the oldest of four kids. After you was one of two boys, Lorenzo, and then the twins, Magdalene and Dani. They shared the same passion for football as you, and your fondest memories consisted on being in the stands of Camp Nou with them.

All of you snagged a table in a cozy restaurant, one you were familiar with due to going there multiple times with the rest of your family.

The hour you spent in that restaurant with your siblings turned out to be the last hour of a carefree life you’d get to indulge in.

The Pitch

You turned 18 last week, but you got promoted to the first team last month. The headlines painted you as an emblem of success for Barça’s youth programme, the future captain of the first team, and there were all these opinions flying around about you as a player. The opinion that mattered most, though, was that of your captain.

You and Alexia Putellas didn’t get along. Her opinion on you was nothing short of disapproving, and she let you know of that as you arrived at practice.

“(Y/N),” the woman said, her voice holding notes of irritation as she approached you. You looked at her, preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture.

“You’re late again. You might be young, but over here you’re the same as all of us no matter your age, which means getting to training at the same time as us,” she berated you, her hands set on her hips and her eyebrows furled in annoyance.

“Look, captain, I had to–” you started, but your explanation was cut short by Alexia.

“I don’t have time for your excuses. Do better next time, or you’re sitting out of practice entirely. Go run your laps,” she snarled, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

You could only watch in anger as she stormed away while the others looked at you sympathetically, and you bit your tongue as you walked to the locker room and dumped your bag in your cubby.

She belittled you in every interaction you two had, which was a shame because you really liked her beforehand. In fact, you looked up to her, and you looked forward to being captained by her, but now it was hell on earth every time you entered the gates and met her scrutinising gaze.

Training was nothing special. It was the same old passing drills, small-sided games, shooting and free kick practice, and then before you knew it, home time.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and left before Alexia could stop you and give you yet another lecture. After stopping at the primary school to pick up Magdalene and Dani, you three drove to the middle school to pick up Lorenzo. Barcelona rush hour was rife around the time you picked up your siblings, so you spent another half an hour stuck in traffic until you finally got home.

All you wanted was your bed, and a nap. Still, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to make something quick for dinner so it was ready for your siblings when they were hungry, and then you tidied up in the living room.

Ever since your dad left, your mother was a wreck, leaving you as the successor to her caretaking duties of the kids. She was never a drinker, but after he left, she found herself depending on alcohol for a quick escape.

It was nice for a little bit; a short break from the world that always ended too soon. She kept chasing and chasing that relief until she was in too deep, and it was never enough. The bottles multiplied, the cans lined the rubbish bins, the stench polluted the air that once smelled of a fresh vanilla essence, and she became latched onto it.

You blamed your father for it all, because it was his unchastity that motivated every drink. Your mother was a beautiful woman who loved her family more than herself.

That was what ruined her.

“Hermana, hermana,” Magdalene spoke, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. You looked down just as you turned off the stove, and she rubbed her stomach, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay hermanita, ask the boys if they’re hungry, please,” you replied, smiling at her. She nodded and ran to their bedrooms, and soon they all emerged from around the corner.

After scooping generous amounts of macaroni and cheese onto their plates, you put some onto your plate and sat down with your siblings to eat. Together, you all talked about your busy days and they listened to you tell them all about your training. They loved hearing your stories about Barça, and every time, Magdalene and Dani would ask you to continue your stories until they fell asleep.

Tonight was no different as you tiptoed out of the twins’ bedroom, gently shutting the door behind you. As much as you loved sleeping after a long day, part of you also dreaded it, because it meant starting a new day and facing Alexia.

When you woke up, it was to gentle knocking on your bedroom door. You were awake enough to comprehend the quiet pattering of footsteps across your hardwood floors, and when tiny hands grazed your skin, you jolted awake. “Hermana, time to wake up! School time!” Magdalene chimed.

So your morning routine began.

With one sock and half your jacket over your head, you made three lunches for the kids right after making their breakfast. Your mother slowly slumped out of her bedroom, wrapping her robe tight around her.

“Bon día,” she mumbled, a smile on her face. With a glance over your shoulder, you acknowledged her before going back to slicing two oranges.

“Morning, mamá,” your siblings responded quietly, shoving food into their mouths to avoid speaking any further. She sat on the couch, sighing deeply.

As she walked past you, you could immediately recognise the stench of alcohol — no surprises there. Years ago, she would’ve smelled like warm musky perfume, not the pungent smell of chemicals.

“Can you make me something, hija? ‘M very hungry,” she said to you, looking your way. You kept your head down, sealing the lunchboxes and cleaning up the counter.

“No, ma, I have things to do. Make your own breakfast,” you responded coldly, “Hermanita, pequeños, bring your dishes here.”

Your siblings scrambled from the table with their empty plates, giving them a quick wash before retreating to their rooms to get their uniform on. On the couch, your mother was still begging for food.

“Hija.. I’m hungry,” the woman slurred.

“Mamá, I have to get your kids to school and go to my own job, which my captain is already angry at me for being late because I have to drive them all around Barna,” you hissed.

“Then I have to come home and make dinner after cleaning your mess. You can make your own breakfast, for once!”

You always felt bad for yelling at your mum, but your life was hard enough with trying to get to work and drop off your three siblings in time while worrying about making your mum a meal.

You had a chance at life. You had a chance to succeed, and you weren’t going to waste it. You weren’t going to rely on a man to look after you in the future until he turns around and wants to look after another woman, leaving you damned.

“Bye, mamá,” you grumbled, grabbing your keys from the bench and swooping your boot bag up from the floor.

It was Dani’s turn to pick which song to play on the radio on the drive to school. He chose a very popular song within your siblings; ‘Me Gustas Tu’. The song had been broadcasted on the radio one day, and everyone seemed to love it. Their favourite part of car rides to school was winding the windows down and singing as loud as they’d like.

Somehow, amongst your father leaving and your mother’s new habits, your siblings were always happy, and that’s what you admired most about them. Maybe they were unaware of the harsh reality, but they were still naïve and unscathed by everything that happened.

It was almost 9:30 in the morning when you started making your way to the training pitch. Mentally, you were preparing yourself for the big lecture you were about to get from Alexia and seriously didn’t need, but physically, you looked unbothered if not a bit tense in the shoulders.

You almost tripped on your way out of the car as you rushed around to get your gear. Walking into training everyday just to get yelled at by Alexia was never nice, but you were used to it. Unfortunately.

That wasn’t the sort of relationship a captain should have with one of her players. It was almost like she despised you, and if she had her way, you probably would’ve been off the team within the first week.

Sure enough, when you appeared on the pitch, the first thing you heard was the low whispers beside you.

“…She’s irresponsible and doesn’t belong on the first team. Being late once, I understand, but multiple times? Her excuses are not good enough–”

“Excuses? Ale, you’ve never let her explain herself.”

“There shouldn’t be any need for excuses anyways, because she shouldn’t be late at all. If she wants to take her time and be let off easy like a child, send her back to the B team. Look, she isn’t even here yet.”

“She is, though. Look behind you.”

The woman turned around, her glare settling on you and being as cold as ever. She spun her whole body around and folded her arms across her chest, her frown heavy.

You sighed, looking down to your feet. It made you feel even worse that you couldn’t help it, and you couldn’t explain it to her either, because that action had potential to get your siblings taken away.

“Drop your bag, get comfortable. You’re not training today,” she snapped.

Your heart sunk. You fought to fend off any tears from forming on your waterline as you nodded, raising your head slightly.

“Listen, (Y/N). This team is everything to me. I have lots of respect for the people who coach us and come here to be coached. You, showing up late? That shows a lack of respect for those people. You’re lazy, unorganised, irresponsible–”

Irresponsible was untrue. If anything, you were the most responsible person you’ve ever known, but Alexia didn’t know that because she didn’t care to know you.

“…I can’t expect you to represent our club and our city on big stages if you can’t even come to training on time. You aren’t FC Barcelona material, and unless things change, you never will be.”

Your lip quivered as your body aligned to bolt for the locker room as soon as she left you alone, away from the watchful eyes that surveyed you in pity when had you arrived. Alexia turned on her heel and stormed away past Mapi, whom she was talking to previously.

She left you in her wake, crestfallen and misunderstood, defeated by circumstances beyond your control.

[luvyeni]

SEX FASHION GUITAR — JAEMIN SMAU MASTERLIST

𐙚 pairings. rockstar!jaemin x stylist!reader

✧ genre. rockstar!au, fwb!au crack/humor, fluff, angst college au ( ? ), mutual pining

warnings. swearing, death jokes, eventual smut, jaemin is a fuckboy highkey, will add more if needed

synopsis. l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.

characters. l/n y/n, na jaemin, 7dream, sieun ( stayc ) winter ( aespa ) ft. hanbin ( zb1 )

started. 04-01-2024

ended. 04-22-2022

authors note. been working on this for a minute and i can't wait for you guys to read it❤️

let me know if you want to be added !

( 🩶 ) ... LET'S PLAY !

0.) PROFILES

1.) nightmare fuel ...

2.) will you do it ? ...

3.) fuck elon musk ...

4.) not that bad 😆 ...

5.) down a peg ...

6.) fitting day📍...

7.) unfair treatment ...

8.) he's unsaveable ...

9.) 5 minutes until show time ... ( written )

10.) not to your face , no ...

11.) no need to fight it ...

12.) next time ... ( written )

13.) stay the night ...

14.) that random dude ...

15.) throwing me off 😐...

16.) how far are you willing to go ...

17.) nice guy ...

18.) bowling with hanbin ...

19.) maybe it's time ...

20.) let's end it ...

21.) hostility in the chat 😬 ...

22.) spiraling ...

23.) new york ...

24.) im sorry ... ( written ) ...

25.) best non-confirmed boyfriend ever ...

26.) y/n is better ...

27.) debut day ( im sorry pt 2. ) ...

28.) release party ...

29.) number 1 ! ...

30.) people really like us ...

31.) rumored ...

32.) next week ...

33.) music show ...

34.) so happy ...

35.) disney ass outfit ...

36.) he's mine ...

BONUS CHAPTERS !

1.) jaemin not having media training ...

2.) dreams first award ...

3.) the girls vs jaeminslvt ...

©️LUVYENI

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down.

Word count: less than 2K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts. Part II is already in the queue and will be posted on Friday, 10/11.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, Bucky the player, wild thoughts, kisses on the hand and the cheek. No sex!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

"Won't see it coming when it happens. But when it happens you're gonna feel it, let me tell you now."

Bucky always scoffed at Steve’s advice. He and Sam never understood his solitary bachelorhood and his one night stand lifestyle.

The truth was, he hadn’t met anyone who held his interest enough to warrant a second date, much less anything beyond one casual hookup. So, he never made promises that he couldn’t keep, and most women said they were down for that. 

Even if they were lying to themselves.

At 42, James Buchanan Barnes was too dedicated to his business, ostensibly as an art dealer, for a serious relationship. The truth was that he dealt in many things, and that was why his business needed so much attention. 

His life and everyone’s around him depended on it. 

Bucky Barnes wasn’t going to get caught slipping.

In love or in business.

—---

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, on what you thought would be a random Monday afternoon, he appraised you in a way that shook you to the core, those ocean blue eyes looking into your soul. You felt as if he were evaluating a piece of art as he gazed at you across his desk. 

You couldn’t know that he felt the exact same way. 

His eyes never strayed from your face as he shook your hand, but he’d noticed every bit of you as you entered his gallery, Rebirth. You were more stunning than any piece of art that he’d ever curated in the space.

While nothing like his normal type, you made Bucky feel as if he’d been so wrong about so much in his life the moment you entered his orbit. He had to get to know you to find what he’d been missing.

This afternoon you were a sight to behold and serving body. Although you were covered from neck to shin in an elegant sheath dress, the high, wrapped waist was giving all of your bounteous curves up to whoever glanced at you. And you had heads turning.

Steve, Sam, and even Natasha craned their necks to watch you as you entered Bucky’s office. And he could have sworn that Nat’s neck was at a 90 degree angle as she watched you leave her desk just outside his door.

You were fine as hell.

Bucky was entranced by dreams of handling your curves and making you smile at him forever.

As Bucky dreamed, you admired the man in front of you. Tall, dark, and handsome, Barnes wasn’t a young man, but the gray in his beard and the crinkles around his eyes made him that much more attractive. 

Even more attractive than in the paparazzi pics of him with various young models and actresses of the moment, waifs and ingénues with whom he was never photographed twice.

You just knew you were safe from any advances from him.

You thought.

“Enchanté, Ms. Y/LN. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Bucky lowered his head as he greeted you, a slight bow and extended his hand to his desk. You noticed the tattoo that started on his hand and seemed to go up his sleeve and went in the direction he pointed.

"You know, you are quite tenacious. I don’t take many meetings with potential buyers. But all of my people told me that I should.”

The silk of his voice, the unexpected tenor of it, and the way he took your hand made you shiver at the aura of experience that he gave off.

The word Daddy floated around in your mind for a moment until he invited you to sit.

You had to concentrate on the business at hand, that of negotiating for a piece of art for the Art and Culture Center in Brownsville, of which you were the director. The purchase was made possible by benefactors to commemorate a deceased Brownsville artist who became famous, then forgotten, during the Harlem Renaissance.

“You’ve made it past Ms. Romanoff, my gallerist, Mr. Wilson, my business manager, and Mr. Rogers, my gallery director, Ms. Y/LN. What makes you think that I’m going to give you a different answer? Letting that piece go for the price you’ve proposed is not a good business move.”

“You can’t afford to miss out on this opportunity, Mr. Barnes. Yes, you will be taking a loss on the artwork, but you will be on the ground floor of a major rediscovery. You will be known as one of the few who helped to resurrect the brilliance of the artist Howard Benson. You can be the Alice Walker to his Zora Neale Hurston.”

And that is when Bucky leaned back in his chair, astounded at your shrewd calculation.

“I love the way your mind works, Ms. Y/LN.”

You smiled and settled back into your chair, causing Bucky to shift in his chair. He wanted to be buried in you. He appraised and decided that he liked the pout that changed your lips almost as much as the smile that initially greeted him when he replied, “But that price is still unacceptable.”

You raised an adorable eyebrow at him and rose to the challenge that he lay at your feet ready to tangle with the inimitable James Barnes. The conversation stretched from early afternoon to dinner time, making you suspect that Barnes was drawing it out for some reason. You matched him, point for point, until it was dark. But he yielded no ground.

The conversation was intellectual foreplay: art history, sociology, american politics. And it was the most stimulated you’d been in a while. 

You could do this all night.

Your phone buzzed and you looked down. There were several text messages and emails lighting up your screen. You’d been in deep with Barnes for hours. It was after 6 pm. It seemed like only minutes. You noticed that it was only you and Bucky left in the gallery and rose to excuse yourself, albeit reluctantly.

“Oh! I’m sorry to keep you so long. I’m sure that you must have plans.”

You’d done your research and you knew that there was probably someone little more than half Barnes’ age waiting for him. When you searched social media, there was a sighting or spotted every month or so of Bucky and a young, beautiful woman.

You reached for your coat, but Bucky was behind you in seconds, taking it from you and helping you put it on. You shivered at his breath at your throat and his hands on your collarbone as he draped the lapels over your neck. His deep chuckle made your stomach flip. He saw right through you.

“No one is waiting for me but my cat, Alpine. How about you, Ms. YLN? Anyone waiting for you in Brownsville?”

“Not tonight. No.”

Why in the world were you doing the sultry whisper thing? This man didn’t want you. 

Did he?

You cleared your throat and you felt dizzy when you looked up and saw how close he was standing to you. Those eyes and the smile that graced his handsome face had you warm, but the way he licked his lips had you spiraling.

Bucky pushed down a mild sense of panic that someone might be expecting you some other night, but that was irrational. Competition never ever entered his mind when he talked to other women. 

What was happening here?

“Well I would consider myself extremely fortunate and would be honored if we could continue this conversation over dinner.”

—-

The way James Barnes turned your meeting into a dinner date had your head spinning, but the wonderful conversation and easy, light hearted banter eased your mind. As soon as the first course was served at your table at dinner at Bohemian, he agreed to your initial price.

From there, once the terms were settled, the conversation turned to more personal questions, each of you sharing the stories of your life in your town, his childhood in Romania, your childhood in Brooklyn, and lots of funny stories.

At one point early in the night, Bucky stopped you from calling him Mr. Barnes.

“Please. Call me James. Or you could call me Bucky. My Friends call me Bucky. For my middle name, Buchanan. Bucky is short for Buchanan.”

Bucky found himself rambling. He had not been this nervous in a while.

You looked at him quizzically. At that moment, he would give you anything you were about to ask of him.

“Do you have a lot of friends? I mean, do a lot of people call you Bucky?“

Godamn, the husk in your voice, those lips, those eyes. Everything about you was about to set him on fire.

“I have a few who are in my close circle. Natasha, Steve, Sam. They and a very few others call me Bucky. Most people I speak with call me Mr. Barnes...”

You nodded slowly, licking your lips, making Bucky feel it in his cock.

“Then I will call you James.”

He got your subtle meaning. You wanted to be different. 

And you were. So very different.

After almost five hours of the best conversation and laughter, he proposed another time for you two to meet before the week was up, on Friday. He had made it clear at dinner that now that business was concluded that he wanted to spend time with you.

Friday night would be a date, the second one at his insistence.

You debated that fact as his driver took you home, even up until he walked you to the door of your brownstone.

He leaned against your doorframe and checked you out as you retrieved your keys from your purse. When you turned and caught him looking, you gasped, causing him to straighten up and move toward you, eyes dilated.

“It will be our second date,” you conceded.

Bucky’s mouth curled into a smirk as he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his mouth. Your soul burned as he pressed his lips to your palm. It was like the hint of a drug in your veins and you wanted so much more.

“What made you change your mind?”

That voice. Did you have a voice kink? Good lord.

You flushed, both at the images that were racing through your mind, and at the arbitrary three date rule you’d made up a while ago. Why was that again?

You cleared your throat.

“Because of the way you are looking at me, James. And the fact that you just kissed me.”

“Is this a kiss?”

“Ummhmmmm.”

You hummed as Bucky raised his eyebrow and your hand again. This time, he brushed his lips against your wrist and inhaled the perfume lingering there. You were about to melt.

Bucky didn’t even know what he was doing. The next step in his mind was to open his mouth and consume you, but he opened his eyes and spied you looking at him in that way, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want this to be like all of his other conquests.

He straightened up, but didn’t let go of your hand, entangling your fingers together. 

“You are correct, Y/N. In my mind, this is a date. I am interested in you, for more than just your taste in art. I hope that this is the first date of many.”

You were bowled over at his straightforwardness. It was not what you were used to. This was a man, not a boy in mens clothing.

“I appreciate your honesty, James.”

You went on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering on the black and grey stubble so close to his lips. You turned around, giving him a view of your backside as you opened your door.

“And your ambition.”

You gave him that smile again with a wink, and your “Goodnight, James,” floated up to him on cloud nine.

——-

Let me know if you liked it!

Part II here.

[duskyvenus]

444: Written in the Stars

A PAC about the person who is the one for you 💖 Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that speaks to you. Six piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates.

Pile 1

Your person likes/has cats or cats can be significant in your relationship. This person really likes nature and animals. They like listening to music and may have a record player at home. Could also be an artist. A highly sensitive person. They see beauty in everything. They like taking photos to capture memories. May have brown hair or brown eyes. March and April might be important. This person is a bit melancholic and absentminded at times (?) It can be hard to notice at first but they have a lot on their mind. Nevertheless they know that they are more sensitive than most people and try to stay hopeful. You could feel resilience and healing energy oozing from them when you talk to them. They could also be a therapist or counselor or someone who studies psychology. They have the vibes of a very calm and nice teacher who minds their own business. They know how powerful words can be and they insist on maintaining peace. A very helpful person. "I know you can do it but let me do it for you" kind of person. Numbers and signs: 33, 3, 19, 14, Pisces, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Cancer, Leo

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 2

Your person likes coffee or tea. They like celebrating their wins. I'm seeing cakes and lots of smiling faces. They are definitely very outgoing. They like forming meaningful relationships, not just mindless networking. They have creativity and a lot of ideas, so they could be a content creator or influencer. Sharp, spontaneous and open-minded. They're also financially secure; I'm seeing a job in finance. And they rely on people a lot more than they should? Maybe because they are looking for something that they can't find in a job. I'm seeing some co-dependency. They carry a lot of nostalgia and regret in their heart; someone who feels homesick for people. They may have studied anthropology and sociology. Couple outfits or couple activities is their thing. The type of person who gets hurt by people but still cannot imagine a whole life without a partner. June or October might be significant. They collect things like stamps or shells or dried flowers. Their house could look like a museum. YOLO could be their motto. Numbers and signs: 25, 1, 11, 13, Libra, Sagittarius, Aries, Leo, Taurus, Pisces

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 3

This pile has some young energy. Someone with a competitive spirit. They have this spoiled princess/prince persona for the people that don't know them very well. In reality, they are someone who works very hard to achieve success and they could be very smug about their accomplishments which might put some people off. I'm sensing that they believe in manifestation and law of attraction. They're also a bit defensive and guarded so it's hard to get to know them. I think they are someone who just wants to have control over their own life. They might have grown up in a situation where they didn't have much control over decisions concerning them so now, they are just trying to get their power back. They learned to stand up for themselves so now the people that could no longer control them are not happy about it. They made peace with it though. They're focusing on making their pinterest board dream life come true. One of their biggest dreams is to live in a beautiful house. January and August could be important. Numbers and signs: 16, 8, 5, 4, Scorpio, Virgo, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Sagittarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 4

Your person is everywhere but also nowhere. They remind me of shows like my liberation notes, they feel like a warm cup of tea that comforts you at the end of a stressful day. They are the “always the artist but never the muse" trope. Similar to pile 1, they are soft spoken and kind. They fit in but they don't feel seen. They like journaling their thoughts because they feel so much. "I don't know where to put it down" Despite this, they have a small group of friends that feel like soulmates or soul family to them. Getting closer to them can be hard because they just enjoy their own solitude that they don't feel the need to be with someone all the time. Very independent. When you get to know them though, you will find that they are very accepting and funny even. A true friend and a loyal partner. They will love to share their interests and hobbies with you. They desire someone who gets them on a spiritual level and they will always be there for you. They really value loyalty and a no bs attitude. For some of you, they could be from a different culture/country. They can probably speak many languages. The type to learn your native language so that communication is never a barrier. Numbers and signs: 32, 13, 14, 5, Virgo, Gemini, Pisces, Leo, Libra, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 5

This person has an elusive persona. The cold and rich male lead character of a manhwa/drama. They prefer night over day; might be a night owl. They are secretly a hopeless romantic. They need someone who is like sunshine. Initially they give off this dark, serious and mature vibe but underneath they have a very soft core. They are a very caring and nurturing person but that energy has been stifled because of their environment. The reason why they act so serious is because they don’t want people to take advantage of them. To them, you are like a warm ray of sunshine that makes them feel alive again. They hate authority. They hate having all these responsibilities that tie them down and keep them busy. They are deserving of their position because of their hard work and leadership qualities, but sometimes they just want to run away from it. They feel that they have a different purpose. However, they could be hesitant to move on from their comfort zone. Out of all the piles, this pile is the most eager to meet you. They said, “you have so much light, the plants grow towards you”. Numbers and signs: 25, 8, 14, 3, Capricorn, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Libra

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 6

This pile has a very endearing energy. Someone who goes through all of it and yet chooses to be kind. “Memories are all I have” A very poetic or sentimental kind of person who struggles in making decisions. Also, they like humor based on their own pain. They like visiting places that are off the grid and collecting random things. They often dress up to go nowhere. They tend to do a lot of silly things that wouldn’t make sense to the average person because they are silly, duh. Quite the hopeless romantic too. Apart from all the silliness, they are avoidant of the reality because they often dissociate and have tendency to spiral into inner turmoil. They may struggle to understand their own feelings. All this is hidden under the persona of being the happy go lucky friend. In the end, they just want to bond over the little things and enjoy the mundane tasks of everyday life with someone. They may work in a field related to children or history. May, September could be significant. Numbers and signs: 26, 6, 2, 18, Cancer, Scorpio, Gemini, Pisces, Virgo, Libra, Aries

Thank you for reading!!

[thegreatyin]

this is literally the greatest day of my life.

proud to announce that today i finally achieved my video game white whale (got the heavenly onyx cloud serpent)

[azzibuckets]

Pazzi prompt

A player fouls Azzi and hurts her and Paige goes crazy and gets a technical foul as an injured player on the bench

Bonuses:

Geno meeting with Paige after “what was THAT about”

Or post game fluff of Azzi finding it cute

i love you, you know [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i think i deserve a round of applause for actually reading and sticking to the prompt this time 😓

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

It was all crystal clear in Azzi’s mind. She had to throw her defenders off tempo: Make a fake to the right. Let #11 jump. Go to the left. Fadeaway. 2 points.

But she only made it past the first step before she was sent reeling after a blow to the nose. She didn’t see any of it happen, her eyes fixed solely on the net and her mind focused on getting the ball where it needed to go. One second she was rearranging her hips, and the next, she was on the floor, staring up at the beams crossing the ceiling.

The noise in her ear roared, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the booing of the crowd or the now incessant ringing coming from god knows where. Trembling, she brought a hand up to her nose, and when she looked down, her fingertips were dripping with blood.

Lying there in dumb shock from the burning pain in her nose, the numbness of her left ear, and the watering of her eyes, only one thing pierced her muddled thoughts.

Paige.

When Nika’s face morphed into her vision, a blur of brown hair and worried eyes, Azzi groaned. Nika helped sit her up. Azzi could see her lips moving, but she couldn’t hear a single word or a trace of a Croatian accent. All she could hear was that same tinny sound, getting louder and louder.

There was a blur of movement in her peripheral vision, and Azzi could’ve sworn that she saw blonde hair and a snarl, but her vision went blurry again from how quickly she moved her head.

The next few minutes seemed like a fever dream. She somehow managed to stand up, her arms thrown around her teammates’ shoulders as she slowly walked off the court. When they passed the bench, she squinted, hoping to discern her girlfriend among the faces all looking at her, but to no avail. Her teammates kept on walking, and she was forced to leave the court.

••••••••••••••••••

When Azzi went down, nothing could’ve described the way Paige’s heart lurched. Panic crawled at her throat when #11 on the other team’s fist crashed smack in the middle of Azzi’s face as she came down from her attempt to block Azzi’s shot. The force of the blow sent Azzi falling, the side of her head taking the brunt of the fall as she collapsed to the ground.

Paige had scared herself in that moment. She’d never felt such a loss of self control, the way the edge of her vision almost went red from rage. Ignoring the yells from her teammates and her coaches and the throbbing ache in her left knee that intensified with every step, she’d stormed onto the court. She had one goal: knock the fuck out of #11.

Much to her dismay, Paige had only been able to give the girl a single shove (although she’d prided herself in being able to send the girl stumbling to the floor with only one push) before her teammates had come running to hold her back.

Yelling curses at #11 as Aaliyah wrapped her arms around her waist and walked her off the court, she’d only smirked at the referee when he threw his hands together in the shape of a T. But her smile quickly fell when she’d realized that #11 had only received a flagrant 1 call.

“Are you kidding me?” she yelled, ignoring Aaliyah’s begs for her to just shut up. “How was she not ejected for that?”

The ref glared at her. “You need to calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you open your blind as fuck eyes,” Paige growled. “You might as well get on your knees if you’re gonna blow this game.”

Eyes widened, Aaliyah mustered every single ouch of strength in her body to haul Paige off the court and into the locker rooms. “I didn’t even have to turn around to know you got ejected,” Aaliyah muttered as she left to return to the game. “I would say I’m disappointed, but…” her voice trailed off as she allowed a slight grin. “That blowing joke was pretty good.”

Paige chuckled with her friend, but as soon as the door slammed shut, all her thoughts returned to Azzi.

•••••••••••••••••••

Azzi knew she wasn’t being rational, that the pain was clouding her logic. But she couldn’t help but feel an unsettling pit in her stomach from the fact that Paige hadn’t even tried to help her up or check on her after her injury. She had to keep remaining herself that it was a good thing, that Paige should minimize any movement in her knee in order to heal as fast as possible.

The team physician shut off his flashlight and scribbled something into his notes. “We still need X-Rays to confirm, but right now it’s looking like you fractured your nose. It doesn’t seem like you have a concussion, which is surprising considering how hard you hit your head.”

Azzi nodded, but all the words were tangling and jumping themselves in her head. All she could think about was how bad everything hurted, and how much she just wanted Paige. For her to show up with her stupid dorky smile, for Paige to hold her in her arms and make her laugh and forget about everything.

Even after the game ended, the team showed up to check on her but the blonde was still nowhere to be found. Azzi walked back to the locker room after she was all checked out, the hallways now empty. She felt decidedly alone in the silence of the gym, until she heard voices seeping from the film room.

“Of all people, I expect you, as the captain of this team, to remain cool under pressure.” Geno’s voice was hard.

“I’m riding the bench anyways, Coach. Why does it matter if I get a tech?” Paige’s words were fast, tumbling out one after the other, in the familiarly urgent way she spoke whenever she was really upset.

Azzi was starting to grow a headache. A tech? When did Paige get a tech?

“Never in my thirty nine seasons at UConn has one of my benched players been ejected after a single technical foul,” Geno fumed. “It’s embarrasing. It shows immaturity. That’s not the way we do it here.”

“Coach, she was bleeding.”

A pause.

“I’m starting to get the sense that your letting your personal feelings affect your focus on the game.”

“Oh my god, so I’m human.” Frustration seeped from Paige’s words, and Azzi flinched, wishing she could go in there and make Paige shut up before she said something she regretted. But she also knew that Geno gave Paige the most leeway out of everyone on the team - he respected her as a player and a person. But still - Paige was really testing his limits. “I can’t help it if I get mad that someone punched my girlfriend in the nose.”

“You’re allowed to get mad,” Geno said shortly. “You’re not allowed to storm the court and send one of the girls on the other team flying.”

A bitter taste rose in Azzi’s mouth.

Geno inhaled. “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow. Get your things and get out of here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door swung open, and surprise flickered in Geno’s eyes when found Azzi just standing there. “You okay, kid?” he asked.

“I’m good. I just need to go to the doctor tomorrow for some X-Rays. No concussion though.”

Geno nodded. “You’re strong. It’ll take a lot more than #11 to take you down.” Azzi blushed at his words, looking down bashfully. Geno turned to leave, but hesitated before looking back. “Talk some sense into your girlfriend, will you?”

“You know I always do, Coach,” Azzi said with a wry smile before stepping into the film room.

Paige, still not having noticed her presence, was sitting in one of the swivel chairs, eyes fixed on her feet as her eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. Azzi swallowed hard before stepping to the girl. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Paige looked up. As soon as she saw Azzi, she shot up to her feet and cupped the younger girl’s cheeks. “Are you okay?” she breathed. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you earlier. Geno was giving me a hissy fit and-,”

“Paige,” Azzi interrupted. “Stop.”

“What?” The look in her girlfriend’s eyes was wounded, and Azzi had to breathe to keep her composure.

“Going on the court? Shoving a girl? What the fuck?”

Paige clenched her jaw. “Are you seriously mad at me right now?”

“You can’t be getting techs left and right. The media will come after you. You have a reputation to uphold.” Azzi broke eye contact with Paige and looked down, nursing her nose. “I don’t need you to defend my honor.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

Azzi bit her lip, knowing that she couldn’t respond to that without Paige seeing right through her.

“Let me see that.” Paige gently moved Azzi’s hands away from her nose so that she could study it. She let her fingertips brush the bridge of Azzi’s nose, the coldness of her touch bringing relief to the angry red heat radiating from the fracture.

“How does it look, doc?” Azzi teased.

A small smile formed on Paige’s lips. “Like it could use a kiss to heal.”

“Then patch me up.”

Paige was grinning now, and she leaned forward to lightly graze her lips against Azzi’s nose. Azzi winced a little, but she forgot all about the pain when Paige drew back and looked at her with so much softness in her eyes.

“It looked really bad out there,” Paige murmured, her voice slightly shaky. “I thought it could’ve ended up in a really major head injury.”

Azzi laid her head on Paige’s chest, allowing the older girl’s rhythmic heartbeat to calm her own. Paige let her cheek fall on Azzi’s head, basking in the warmth of their shared body heat. “Don’t worry about me. I’m all good,” Azzi breathed, letting her eyes flutter shut as Paige tightened her arms around her waist.

“I always worry about you.” Paige traced circles on Azzi’s back.

Azzi suddenly giggled. “Not gonna lie, you standing up to Geno was kinda hot.”

Paige’s thumb caressed Azzi’s dimple, her heart thudding at how pretty the younger girl’s smile was, even with her swollen nose and red eyes. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Paige let her mouth linger on Azzi’s temple.

“But I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“Uh huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Uh huh.”

Paige tickled Azzi, digging her fingers into her sides until the dark haired girl was out of breath from laughing so hard. In the dim lighting of the film room, she could only clearly make out some of Azzi’s face, but when she looked at her she still thought she saw the most beautiful woman in the world.

When Azzi’s eyelids fluttered sleepily, Paige knew it was their cue. “Home?” she suggested. As she grabbed Azzi’s hand and led them out of the room, a warmth spread across her chest. Despite all the hectic and insane things that went on that night, she still held on to one thing - that she got to go home and go to sleep in the same bed as Azzi, and wake up in the morning to her gorgeous face, and spend the rest of her life with the younger girl by her side. And that made any stupid tech worth it.

[magics-neptunes-things]

I Don't Bite (Woso Prompt)

11. I don't bite. I mean, not unless someone asks me.

I have to admit I first read it with Leah’s voice in my head.

TW : Alcohol

______________________________________________________________

You’ve only been at Arsenal for a few months, but your integration went well. The fact that you speak good English and know Viv and Victoria well from your national team probably helped a lot. You’re pretty close to the others too, but you have to admit that if there’s one player you’re less close to, it’s Leah Williamson.

Because the very moment you first saw her, you developed the dumbest biggest crush on her.

You blush when she talks to you, you can’t help but look at her everytime you have the chance and you find yourself regularly browsing through her Instagram hidden in your bed. You have the perfect impression of being a teenage fool and you suspect that you are ridiculous in Leah’s eyes.

Tonight, you’re all out celebrating Amanda’s birthday, and maybe the alcohol was consumed a little too much. You’re not the type to drink too much, but Leah's here and you have to find a way not to drool in front of her. She's incredible and you swallowed your drink wrong when she arrived with Lia. It amused Kyra very much beside you who gave you blows in the back to prevent you from choking.

This is the only time you’ve ever cross eyes with Leah. Around 3:00 in the morning, you decide it’s time for you to go home. Some of your teammates are already gone and the others are a little scattered throughout the establishment. After saying goodbye to those who were with you at the table, you get your things and go out.

It’s been many minutes since you lost Leah’s eyes, but you didn’t expect to face her as you walked through the door.

"Where are you going?" asks the blonde, frowning.

"I... Uh… Home. See you tomorrow" you mumble.

You rush past her but you are surprised when you feel Leah’s hand grabbing your biceps to turn you in her direction.

"Are you walking home?"

"Yes? I don’t live far"

"It’s three in the morning, you never read news?"

You look at her without understanding, as she rolls her eyes. And Lord have a mercy, this dress is doing things to you.

"I’m taking you home, I don’t want to risk finding you slit in an alley. I didn’t drink anything tonight."

Her tone leaves no room for compromise, but you find yourself trying to contradict her.

"Leah, I swear I’ll be fine."

"Please. I don’t bite. I mean, not unless someone asks me"

She answers you on the cocky tone that characterizes her and you have the impression that you will catch fire on the spot when her gaze plunges into yours.

Leah takes your stutter for an acceptance and takes you with her to her car parked a little further. Your heart rate is way too high for a simple car ride. The silence that reigns during the journey doesn't seem to bother Leah who sings the different musics that pass on the radio, following to the different indications that you give her.

When you get to your home, Leah turns off the engine and looks at you for a few seconds. While you were about to open your mouth to thank her, she got ahead of you by speaking first.

"I see you, you know?"

"I don’t understand" you answer after a few seconds of silence.

"I see you looking at me. Blush whenever I talk to you or look at you."

If someone could give you the ability to turn into a mouse and run away from that car forever, you would. She talking about blushing, you’re probably turned into a tomato.

"I- I’m sorry" you whisper staring straight ahead.

"Don’t be. I think it’s pretty cute"

This has the merit of surprising you enough that you turn your eyes in her direction. The surprise must be on your face since Leah laughs softly while leaning in your direction.

"Actually I think you are very cute"

Are you dreaming or have you passed a portal for a parallel dimension without realizing it? You look at Leah carefully and you find yourself again immersed in her blue eyes.

"I look at you too, you know" she whispers as she looks at you, laying a hand on your cheek.

You’re too shocked to realize it, but Leah is just as hypnotized by you as you are by her. You see her gaze sliding from your eyes to your lips and you also approach your face from hers when she leans in your direction.

Her lips get on yours and you feel your brain freeze. The feeling is even more pleasant than you could imagine in your hours of perdition. Her kiss is soft but also so sensual it makes your head spin.

Her thumb caresses your cheek and goes down to your jaw and then your neck to hold your face against hers. She add her tongue in the kiss when you whisper and you have to hold you back from jumping over the shifter and sitting on her.

"Maybe I’ll want to bite you after all" Leah said maliciously against your lips when you have to take your breath again.

[saeist]

to my first ── s. itoshi

synopsis: words i'll never get to say. from me, to you, my first genre: childhood lovers(?), mutual pinning, angst? word count: 3.9k warnings: the interactions with sae is basically just memories of the reader? hopefully i can pull off whatever writing style this is. pls bare w/ me!! notes: this is a little personal for me to write. i just felt like i needed to write this out of my system (T—T) i keep having reoccurring dreams about this specific person and i'm going crazy reminiscing what we could've been (i was literally 11 years old) listening to: about you – the 1975 & you were beautiful – day6

as much as you hate to admit it, you do believe in the saying "first love never dies"

first love, 

first love is something you’d describe your relationship with sae itoshi. 

you don’t really remember how it all started. everything seemed hazy to you now. like a long, lost forgotten memory you buried deep inside your mind. you swore you’d never relive those memories, as it felt like reopening an old wound

it's been almost a decade since you both left with unspoken words and feelings but you're sure that you've moved on. you're sure you are. you have moved on long ago when you realized you'll never see him again

it was silly really. it only took you a photo to remember everything about what you had with sae. maybe agreeing to catch up with old distant family friends was a bad decision on your part. apparently catching up with distant family friends also meant looking through old photo albums, reminiscing the good memories

looking back through the years, there were just moments in your life where you thought to yourself that maybe, just maybe everything wouldn’t be as shitty as it was now if you two were still together. times where you wished and prayed that everything was just a dream and as soon as you wake up, you know he’s still there.

with you.

it was in elementary school where you first met sae

among the other kids in your class, you and sae just strangely clicked. except for the times sae just felt the need to comment and insult the way you do things but despite that, there was a strange but comforting feel between the two of you

you've just recently moved to the neighborhood and coincidentally right next to the itoshi's. that meant that you lot would walk home together after school which prompted you and sae to get to know each other a little day by day

surprise was an understatement when sae first asked his mom if you could come over after school. mrs. itoshi was more than delighted that sae actually made friends in school but what she didn't expect was it was you who came over, the new girl next door

sae had felt something different about you and you knew that. he treated you differently than the others. he was more gentle and more light with his words with you. if it was anybody else, he would’ve already lashed out on them calling them prickly names to get under their skin

ironically enough, you two first bonded over minecraft.

“honey, i’m home” sae called out in a bland sing song voice, his player entering the house that you specifically made for the two of you

“what was that about” you giggled, whacking his player with your own

“nothing” sae says quickly placing his minecraft bed next to yours. “c’mon let’s sleep”

maybe you two were just naive as kids, not knowing what the warm feeling in your chests really means

it was the summer of sixth grade when you started to see sae in a completely different light

at this point, you and sae were known as childhood friends and nothing more. over the summers, you hung out with sae less frequently

it was no big deal, though. it was just kids going through personal growth. even if you and sae didn’t hang out like you used to back in elementary school, the family hangouts continued. over the years of you and sae being inseparable, both families had also bonded and formed a close friendship, becoming what one would call family friends.

there was a math training camp that your school holds every year and your dumbass decided to join for the baseless reason that your friends were also joining that same year

in your defense, you only joined because you didn't want to be left out on what they did over the weekends at school. so much that you eventually signed up even if you couldn't be bothered to answer math questionnaires that you don't even understand

however, towards the end of the training camp, you found a completely different reason on why you decided to stay

turns out sae had also signed up (probably because his parents and teachers encouraged him to join after seeing him excel in academics especially in math) for the math training camp

you will never forget the look on sae's face he saw you enter the classroom. he didn't think you were the type to join these type of things. when you catch his stare, you gave him a small wave and sat right next to him — to which he pays no mind, he was busy paying attention to the proctor up front anyway

—

the long day filled with reading different levels of math has come to an end when the proctor leaves the classroom

you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on the armchair, brain completely fried from exhaustion. what the fuck did those symbols even mean? could you six graders really answer all those questions?

sae snickered beside you, glancing at your exhausted face

"tired already?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. the way he said his words almost felt like he was mocking you but you know he means well

"haha. very funny mr. genius" you laughed obnoxiously, waving him off as you look up at the ceiling

"just saying" sae puts his hands up in mock surrender. you can already see the smirk on his face but for now, you don't fight back. not now. you were too tired to come up with a snarky response

amidst to your small talk, your classmates had began flinging each other's shoes. tomfoolery, as you'd like to call it. how they still have the energy to make fools of themselves like they didn't just go through psychological warfare learning about a whole new world of mathematics hours before is beyond you

you sat up straight, attention now at your friends, “look at them.. what idiots” you commented, stifling a laugh as you watch friends and classmates run around the classroom just minutes after the proctor had left

sae bit back a laugh and nods in agreement. “yep”

you both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

you like to think that was the start of everything. the start of fire you two unknowingly ignited.

you don’t regret attending that damned math training camp your school held that one year. you don’t regret wasting your precious afternoon trying to answer those damn questionnaires that you don’t even understand. you don’t regret sitting next to him that day, 

you don’t.

—

the night after the first day of your school's annual math training camp was never the same ever again

that was the night you and sae began talking online for the first time. after hours, as you'd like to call it. the initial message popped up on your screen, and soon, a stream of text flowed seamlessly between you two

it all started with just a simple 'hello, what are you doing right now?' to discussing basic interests, to different niches you two are into, and before you know it the birds were chirping and the sun was already been up. the quiet of the night had been filled with the soft tapping of your keyboard and controlled laughter, creating a private bubble where your friendship deepened and kept in the digital realm for years to come.

this went on for a good month before you realized that he had became a daily routine to you

despite all of that, it was still pretty hard to believe that you got close with sae again in just a short amount of time. you two were drastically different. you didn’t particularly stood out as you just liked to keep things to yourself and close friends. sae on the other hand, he excelled both in academics and sports. even going as far as taking piano classes during the weekend just because

you like to think that maybe it's just fate, a twist of life’s unpredictability, or maybe it's something deeper that neither of you could yet understand?

who knows?

it was in your homeroom classroom where you felt butterflies for the first time

you two were now freshmen in high school. fresh off middle school, fresh off that summer where you and sae had the whole world in your hands

the transition to high school brought with it a mix of anxiety and anticipation, the new environment buzzing with energy and the promise of new experiences

you and sae were deskmates at the start of the semester. you can't tell if this was on purpose by the teachers or fate was just doing it's thing

up until now, your unlabeled relationship with sae was going steady. just the usual chitchats and banter after school in the comfort of your two homes

you were just sitting beside him, listening to the teacher up ahead when you suddenly feel a hand snake their way on top of yours. the hand quickly intertwined its fingers with yours, and you’ve never felt that weird feeling in the pit of your stomach before

what was that?

you turned your head to look at the only person who could do such a thing

it was sae

it was sae, who was looking directly at the teacher in front of him like he was the only one present in this room. completely disregarding your curious stare beside him.

all of a sudden it felt like everything has gone into slow motion. the classroom around you seemed to blur, the chatter and movements of other students fading into the background as the touch of his hand anchored you in the moment

before you could've reacted further, the bell rang

sae untangled his hand from yours and walked away to move on to the next subject as if nothing had happened, leaving you to process the lingering warmth on your skin amidst the bustling noise of students packing up and the chatter filling the classroom. the abrupt return to normalcy felt jarring almost, the ordinary sounds and movements of your classmates contrasting sharply with the intimate moment you had just shared.

you can only stare at his back in complete shock on what just happened

what the fuck just happened?

little did you know, that was just the beginning of everything

—

you were starting to think you were going crazy. you're convincing yourself it was just some sick twisted dream. it has to be, it had to be. there was just no fucking way that just happened

asking sae directly was a bit too much, and you knew that. you knew that he wouldn't give you a direct answer– hell, you're lucky if you'd even be given an answer about that

so instead, you decided to test the waters again. if you could somehow lure him into doing it again then, you'd have your answer

your class was at the library for some reading exercises when you decided to put your plan into action. It was simple, really. you placed your hand at your side under the table, hoping sae would take the bait.

he did.

sae tightened the grip on your hand when he intertwined them for the second time today. it was like he was trying to tell you a message through that little action

this time, you dared to look at him. you lightly tugged on his arm, hoping it would catch his attention

to think your little plan had actually worked the second time, you knew something was up between the two of you.

sae decided to play coy, much to your disappointment. he began writing down in his notebook using his left hand while his dominant hand was busy holding yours under the table, yet he still showed no other signs of acknowledgment what-so-ever

it almost felt like he was tormenting you

sae feels a small smile tug on his lips when he catches you looking away while pouting.

how cute, he thought to himself

you didn't know how to bring it up to him later on when you two get home but you don't miss the way the tips of his ears have a slight tint of a red hue when he held your hand under the table

whatever this set up you two had, it went on for awhile without anyone noticing. sae would randomly hold hands with you under the table and shake you off once the bell rings as you move on to the next next class

sometimes you think he’s doing it on purpose to mess with you but at the same time, you don’t. 

it was during science class when sae blushed for the first time

it's times like this that you were glad your teacher made you sit at the back row

instead of listening to your teacher's discussion, you had your own discussion with sae, who was seated right next to you about movies you've both watched growing up

“that’s not how it goes though” you hushed, trying to not raise your voice as the science teacher was in front of you, teaching a lesson

“you’re wrong then” sae argues back, jotting down notes on a piece of paper. 

you clicked your tongue in annoyance, “did you even watch the movie?” you asked, raising your voice a bit. sae suddenly looks up from his paper and looked at you, annoyed

“i should be the one asking you that” he argues, diverting his attention back to his messy notes. you wonder how he could still be at the top of the class when his notes are all over the place

before you could argue further, it seemed like the entire class including the teacher was listening to your little argument

“would you mind sharing your heated discussion back there to the class?” your teacher chimes in, halting your heated argument at the back.

you and sae both freeze in your seats. you slowly turned your head to see the rest of the class staring at the two of you with knowing smiles and smirks.

sae opened his mouth in an attempt to defend himself but the furious blush creeping up from his neck to his face says otherwise. 

“kids these days..” your teacher teased, obviously up to date with the rumors circulating around you and sae. the class giggled as sae shifted awkwardly in his seat with an obvious blush on his cheeks.

your ‘relationship’ with the red head has been slowly progressing into something more. that of which didn't go unnoticed by your fellow classmates and teachers

whatever your status was with sae has already spread among the class. the innocent teasing of your fellow classmates, commenting how cute you two were as a couple spread like wildfire. 

you're not too sure if what propelled your relationship with sae was caused by the innocent teasing by your classmates

it was in his room when you asked sae what you two were

you were almost akin to the itoshi household that it didn't bother them that you'd stay over for multiple periods of time. you were like the daughter they never had and they've always welcomed you with open arms.

you held hands with him again that night. you were lying down on his bed with him, a few inches of space in between. “distance” is what he says as he intertwined his hands with yours – again.

“this is weird.. what are we?” you asked.

sae shrugged, holding your intertwined hands up high, almost like he’s inspecting it.

“i don’t know”

you don't miss the small smile on his face when you waved goodbye to him when your mom picks you up after work

there were times where you just wanted to ask him, “why me?” but you knew he would just throw a backhanded compliment saying that you were more tolerable than the others he knew. 

instead, you didn’t think too much of it. you’ve already brought up the question to him in your daily conversations. to which he usually just dismisses it as nothing

after all, he himself wasn’t sure if you two were even a thing.

[10:45 PM] you: sae, seriously.. what are we?

[10:46 PM] sae itoshi: i don't know

it was in the hallway when sae accidentally lashed out on you

sae was addictive

sae had became a drug that you couldn't stop taking. ever since that night, you couldn't end your day without at least talking to him. sae had become apart of your everyday routine. you had grown accustomed to his daily commentary about anyone and anything

it turns out not only his teachers can make sae flustered, but also his own set of friends

they were teasing sae again when you walked right past them. there was an unspoken rule between the two of you where you two act like you weren’t that close outside the classrooms, something you never really understood the concept of

you rolled your eyes per usual and ignored the obvious innuendos thrown about the two of you. 

“why do you look constipated?” you laughed as you two finally got some alone time at the back of the classroom, just a few minutes before the classroom gets filled with students after lunch “it’s my friends, they’re being stupid as usual” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“why? did they say anything about us?” you joked, swinging your feet off the table

sae visibly stiffened at the question, “yeah but it’s nothing to be concerned about” he huffed after giving it much thought

“i want to know what they said” you whined, pouting in front of him. somehow it occurred to you that he actually gives in when you throw the puppy eyes at him.

sae flicked your forehead, “no.” he says flatly. you grab onto his hand, swaying it slightly. “sae c’mon just tell me i swear i won’t be offended” you pestered him, poking his chest til he gives in. 

“they said disgusting things about us okay?! happy now?!” sae snapped. “i won’t get into detail but i really wanted to wipe the smirk off their faces” he seethed

“oh..” you squeaked, feeling small

sae picks up on your sudden discomfort and pulled your head against his chest. “i'm sorry. i didn't mean to yell" he murmurs, "don’t worry though. they won’t bother us anymore. i already told them off earlier”

it was during rin's 14th birthday when sae realized he liked you

you were at his house again. it was his brother’s birthday and your family came over late due to the fact that your younger brother also had his kindergarten graduation on the same day.

“you’re well dressed today, y/n-san” his brother, rin comments as you enter their house.

“that’s because i came after brother’s graduation” you retort, tapping rin's cheek, not forgetting to greet him his birthday wishes

“yeah right” his brother scoffs, pushing your hand away. he was exactly like sae at the end of the day “use protection or whatever..” rin says when you knock at sae's room before you enter

you were about to tell rin off for saying such things about you and his older brother when sae yanks the door open

“what the hell was that dumbass talking about— woah” sae's eyes peered over to the dress you were wearing. " you look pretty" he mumbles, grabbing your hand and dragging you inside his room

it was almost midnight when you realized that you talked the night away with sae in his bed, under his covers

"oh shit, it's almost midnight" you pulled out your phone to check the time that reads 11:11 PM

sae took a moment to listen for his parents laughter outside his door. he pats your head and intertwined your fingers under the covers

"it's fine. they're still having fun outside so let's continue what we were talking about" sae says, going back to the topic that you lost track of

you pulled your intertwined hands as you take a good look at it

"sae, i think i like you" your little naive self admitted

sae smiled but you didn't see it

"i like you too"

before you could’ve said anything, the door to sae's room bursts open to reveal rin and your little brother.

in that moment, you and sae sat up and tried to fix yourselves. not like you two did anything inappropriate but the mere thought of it just sent shivers down your spine. not when rin and your little brother were at the age where they would tattle to their respective parents

"i think we're going home" you murmured to sae, patting his leg before standing up and walking over to your brother and rin

"i'll chat you when i get home, sae" you waved goodbye, closing his door on your way out

you missed the big smile on sae's lips when he realizes that he liked you back

it was the following summer when you unexpectedly had to move away

it all happened too fast

some complication had happened between the jobs between your parents that resulted to having no choice but moving far away to the countryside

from what you've heard, your parents and sae's parents had a falling out amidst everything. your dad was convinced mr. itoshi had something to do with his job then word got out then one thing led to another and now you're here, being told off by your mother that you had to cut all contact with sae

"just for a couple of months til we get back on our feet. we don't want them to know where we are" your mother tried to convince you. she tried so hard. she inevitably had to take your phone and deactivate whatever social media you had on there to keep your locations a secret

this was stupid, you thought to yourself. this was between the adults but you still lived under their roof so you had to do what they said

you never saw sae ever again after that

they say fate can be the most cruelest thing

it's been almost nine years since the incident that you had to leave the life you spent years yearning what you could've lived

nine years of radio silence from both ends of a string you call fate

your family had reconnected with a mutual friend that didn't take sides when your family and the itoshi's had a falling out

you met up with the mutual friend and had a good long conversation about how life has been treating you since then

one could say you never got the closure you wanted after that day. even if nine years had passed, the little girl in you who sae had on the palm of his hands, still firmly believes that if you two were destined to cross paths again after all these years, it would all still be the same

your mutual friend had graciously showed you a recent picture of sae itoshi over the years and all you could say was

wow.

it's too late now, you think to yourself. nine years too late. you already had your life figured out. you were finally happy and in a committed relationship for a couple of years now but yet, the feelings you didn't know you still had in you, all crashed around you with just a single picture of the first boy you think you've ever loved

── they say first love never dies

maybe in another life time, in another universe, maybe you two will cross paths again. this time, in the end it will end with you.

[guzhufuren]

QL Schedule 19.08.24-25.08.24

MONDAY

Battle of the Writers First Note of Love Takara No Vidro Cosmetic Playlover

TUESDAY

Addicted Heroin Thailand There's Love That Starts From Mistaken Identity

WEDNESDAY

I Hear The Sunspot I Saw You in My Dream

THURSDAY

Monster Next Door The On1y One Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko The Paradise of Thorns

FRIDAY

My Love Mix-Up Thailand This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans 4 Minutes The Last Time

SATURDAY

Sunset x Vibes

SUNDAY

The Loyal Pin The Trainee

starts airing soon:

20/08 There's Love That Starts From Mistaken Identity 22/08 The On1y One 22/08 The Paradise of Thorns 29/08 The Two Of Us S2 30/08 Affair 01/09 Live In Love 01/09 Meet Unexpectedly 02/09 Happy of the End 03/09 Reverse 4 You 06/09 Kidnap 07/09 The Hidden Moon 09/09 Jack & Joker 11/09 Unlock Your Love 12/09 The Time of Fever 17/09 Love Is Like a Poison (10/09 on Netflix Japan) 19/09 Smells Like Green Spirit 19/09 Chaser Game W 2 02/10 Love In The Big City 03/11 Love In The Air Koi

waiting for international release:

? Blue Canvas of Youthful Days ? Sugar Dog Life ? Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding (you can watch here with fansubs) ? Player 10 (you can watch on youtube with fansubs) ? Uranus2324 ? A Man Who Defies the World of BL S3 (you can watch here with fansubs)

[allieebobo]

College Tennis: Origin Story

Demo | Characters | Dev log | Ko-fi

Tennis/Sports x Slice-of-life x College x Found-family x Coming-of-age x Coz

Experience the ups-and-downs of life as a freshman on the Cargill University varsity tennis team amongst a colorful cast of characters.

Compete in nail-biting singles and doubles matches, forge lifelong friendships, pursue budding romances and make a name for yourself, both on and off the tennis court.

Will the once-great Cargill Coyotes succeed in reclaiming the NCAA Div I championship title for the first time since the 90s? Will you come into your own as a promising young tennis star, primed for the professional leagues? Most importantly, how much are you willing to sacrifice in pursuit of these dreams?

Full character customisation

Customise your gender, height, build, personality, physical appearance, languages spoken, tennis style, dominant hand, and more!

Strike a balance between: tennis, keeping up a rich social life, and maintaining your grades

Nail-biting tennis matches

Every match is different! Play matches throughout the fall and spring seasons, leading up to the NCAO championships—that is, if you make the Cargill team.

Intricate tennis game mechanics: Factors such as your condition/energy, preparation for the match, opponent's play style, doubles partner chemistry, as well as your choices at key junctures of the match etc. will affect the outcome of the match!

Craft your own distinctive playing style and make a name for yourself on the tennis court

Hone your strength, agility, finesse, serve-and-volley skill, and endurance over the course of the game!

Romance four possible characters

Rayyan Afiq, the gruff, hot-headed no. 1 seed

Guillaume/Geneviève Lavigne, the sardonic international student on your floor

Tobin Harris, the warm, unflappable team captain

Sam O'Connelly, your nerdy and spirited high-school best friend

And forge lifelong friendships with many more...

Rayyan Afiq The rival

Gender: Follows the gender of your team Age: 20 Nationality/Ethnicity: Egyptian-American

Student information: Junior, Anthropology major Player information: Vice-captain, No. 1 position, Aggressive Baseliner

Appearance: 5′6 (f) or 5′10 (m). Lean, athletic build. Dark, wavy curls, and thick sweeping eyebrows over piercing dark-olive eyes. Tawny, honey-brown skin.

Description: Surly, intense, and proud. Ambitious and driven to excellence in everything they do. Willing to give up almost anything for their tennis career. Has a soft-spot for cats. Loves organising things, has a plan for everything, and dislikes surprises.

Tobin Harris The captain

Gender: Follows the gender of your team Age: 20 Nationality/Ethnicity: African-American

Student information: Junior, History major Player information: Captain, No. 2 position, All-court player

Appearance: 5′9 (f) or 6′1 (m). Tall, solid build. Short black hair, warm, brown eyes and a calm, assured demeanour. Dark bronze skin. A smile that lights up the room.

Description: Kind, laid-back, selfless, and sociable. Goes out of their way to make everyone feel welcome, but has a tendency to stuff down their own emotions in the process. Surprisingly private and cautious when it comes to their own desires/wishes. Gentle to a fault, steadfast and unflappable. If not playing tennis, probably can be found cooking, hanging out with friends, or going to the library.

Geneviève/Guillaume Lavigne The exchange student

Gender: Gender selectable (f/m) Age: 20 Nationality/Ethnicity: Half French (father's side), half French-Canadian (mother's side)

Student information: Third year exchange student, Political science bachelor’s degree. Hall-mate.

Appearance: 5′6 (f) or 5′11 (m). Toned, supple build. Dark, tousled hair with fair skin. Smoky grey eyes, with a smattering of freckles. Permanent half-smile.

Description: Rarely excited or enthusiastic, always armed with a dry remark. Slightly cynical, but softer than they look. Very intelligent, though they don't often let on what they're actually thinking or feeling. Rich (and intensely private) inner world.

Sam O'Connelly The childhood best friend

Gender: Gender selectable (f/m) Age: 18, Freshman Nationality/ethnicity: American

Student information: Freshman, Undecided major. Player information: No. 6 position for the UCLA Bruins

Appearance: 5′4 (f) or 5′8 (m). Trim build, with a small frame. Curly russet hair that often sticks out in all directions. Mischievous light blue eyes and an infectious smile.

Description: Excitable, with a chaotic positivity that radiates from them like sunshine. Fun-loving and scattered, and nerdy. Competent tennis player, but too often distracted by other hobbies and interests. Somehow manages to survive on a diet of Cheetos and Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

More character descriptions here, face-claims here.

[the-cimmerians]

Queer and trans folk around the world often take an interest in the athletes from our community, and Outsports even collects a database of all the the out LGBTQ competitors. While JK Rowling and 99 percent of conservative media were harassing two cis women boxers, 195 QT athletes represented 26 nations and none, but we’ll get to that. That makes this the queerest Olympics ever, beating out the total of 186 out athletes in Tokyo and, if Queer Nation granted citizenships, would be the 14th largest national contingent at the games. That hypothetical Queer Nation would also have placed sixth in the medal count, tying the Netherlands with 15 golds but falling neatly between the Dutch and host country France on the strength of silvers and bronzes.

One happy bit of news is that in both golds and overall medal count, Queer Nation beat out every single country in the world that criminalizes same-sex boinking. The only bad news seems to be that people competing in the men’s events seem a little underqueered compared to the women. Can’t we at least get a few interested in the Greco-Roman wrestling? Yr Wonkette is just asking.

...

Sure, justice in silver and gold for badass bisexual Black woman Sha’Carri Richardson, excluded from Tokyo on the basis of smoking legal weed in Eugene, Oregon, was as sweet as sativa; it was fun to see Diana Taurasi go out on the queer top with her sixth Olympic gold in a row (team USA’s eighth consecutive women’s basketball gold); and seeing the shoulders on those women rugby players was a dream come true. But we want to speak about someone who didn’t represent any country at all: Cindy Ngamba.

Ngamba is a middleweight (75kg) boxer originally from Cameroon. At 11 years old some family members fled to the United Kingdom as refugees, and brought Ngamba along. The family maintains it had the proper approval for Cindy, but that when her uncle returned to Cameroon it was lost. The UK Home Office has been threatening to deport her since the age of 16, when she was accepted to university and realized she couldn’t produce her visa for her college paperwork.

Despite the threats, Ngamba fought and won many times in the UK’s amateur boxing competitions, having started as a hobbyist in the local Bolton Lads and Girls Club program. She also went on to get an undergraduate degree with honors, all while threats of deportation hung over her head. After winning a UK national championship, she met then-PM Theresa May celebrating her win and the efforts of the Lads & Girls Club where she trained. One might think that the UK might eventually forgive an 11-year-old girl for not keeping track of her paperwork herself, but the Home Office has remained resolute denying Ngamba regularized status.

What makes all this both horrifyingly inhumane and also relevant to this article is that Ngamba is an out lesbian. She has been consistently denied a path to citizenship or even legal residency, only escaping deportation because of her ability to document horror after horror inflicted on queer residents of Cameroon. International law prohibits sending a refugee back to their nation of citizenship or previous residence if they would face persecution and risk of great harm, a crime called “refoulement.”

“If I was sent back, I can be in danger,” Ngamba said. “So, I was given the refugee status to be safe and protected."

Unable to represent the UK and unable to compete in qualifying competitions in Cameroon, Ngamba got an opportunity that no other stateless athlete had ever shared before 2016: she was named to the IOC Refugee Olympic Team. So far that team has only been allowed to compete in the summer games, and only in Rio, Tokyo, and this year in Paris. (They will be allowed to compete in the Winter Games for the first time in 2026.) Given the incredible barriers most refugees face, it is perhaps not surprising that no Refugee Team member has ever won a medal. But while Ngamba has faced incredible legal problems and a ruthlessly anti-immigrant government her entire time in the UK, she at least had better training facilities in her local Lads & Girls than most refugees can dream.

And the dreams paid off. Team Refugee got its first medal ever when Ngamba took home middleweight bronze. "I just want to tell every refugee out there, whether they are an athlete or not, to never give up,” she said after being asked to carry the Olympic flag at the opening of the games. When she won, the whole refugee team took to the internet to celebrate:

“The Refugee Olympic Team is incredibly proud of Cindy Ngamba, the first EOR athlete and the first-ever refugee medallist at the Olympics,” the team posted on X, formerly Twitter. “Today, we are speechless. Cindy did it. Refugees did it!”

Yes, yes you did.

[horrortember]

Calling all lovers of darkfic, grimdarks, creepypastas, and scary stories! I had yet to see a monthly writing event themed around horror, so I made one! The event will occur in September, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

If you feel like participating, tag your fills with #horrortember2024, and I'll reblog as many as I can! Fanfic is strongly encouraged, but original fiction is accepted as well. And, depending on how many people join, I'll post a list of completionists or participants at the end of the month!

A written list of prompts is under the cut:

1. AND THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN WHAT I DESERVE, FOR MY TEETH TO JUST FALL OUT: body horror, parasite, gore

2. BUT THEY SAW SOMETHING THAT’S REAL: pretending to be human, identical, visceral

3. WHO’S AFRAID OF THE BIG BAD WOLF: vampires, zombies, werewolves

4. IT’S ALWAYS BEST WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE OFF: music, silence, echoes

5. BURIED ABOVE THE GROUND: dust, overgrown, forgotten

6. WHAT HAVE I DONE: losing memories, possession, cursed

7. DREAMLESS SLEEP: sick, survivor, injury

8. NOW ONLY DOGS WILL FOLLOW ME: cannibalism, eaten alive, maggots

9. HAVE YOU HEARD THE STORY OF THE RABBIT IN THE MOON: meta, cosmic horror, forbidden knowledge

10. WE DIDN’T GO IN THERE ALONE: hunted, solitary, darkness

11. YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME FOREVER: obsession, yandere, overpowering emotions

12. I WEEP AND SAY GOODNIGHT, LOVE, AS MY ORGANS PACK IT IN: doomsday, apocalypse, certain death

13. WHAT DO YOU KNOW: nightmare, prophecy, inevitable

14. I CAN MAKE THE WORLD SEEM SLOW: polaroid, motel, record player

15. DON’T KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE: doll, reflection, facet

16. NEVER SHALL WE DIE: immortality, decay, cyclical

17. WHAT DID YOU BURY BEFORE THOSE HANDS PULLED ME FROM THE EARTH: oops, self-made monster, playing god

18. SHE’LL SAY SHE LOVES YOU, EVEN THOUGH SHE ONLY WANTS TO STEAL YOUR SOUL: haunting the narrative, inseparable, devotion

19. ARE YOU ALIVE, AM I AWAKE: chills, hallucinations, paranoia

20. IN THE RED, YOU’RE BETTER OFF DEAD: hunger, craving, unconventional needs

21. HOW DO I BREAK YOU BEFORE YOU BREAK ME: unreliable narrator, serial killer, manipulation

22. THERE IS NO END: help isn’t coming, final girl, trauma

23. LIFE CAN BE LIKE A DREAM: gone wrong, descent into madness, distrust

24. HEAR THEM LAUGHING UNDERNEATH: hollow, below the surface, remnants

25. I’LL SAY GOODBYE SOON: timeloop, lesson learned, consequence

26. NO CURE IS COMING NEAR: animals, rabies, primal fears

27. WHY DON’T YOU LET ME BE FREE: hanahaki, soulmates, trope inversion

28. AND THEN HE STARTED LAUGHING UNTIL HE CRACKED HIS JAW: butterflies, roses, sunshine

29. WHERE LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL ALL THE TIME: man-made, perfection, out of place

30. YOU ARE CALLED TO THE TREES: climb, descend, mass migration

[hockeyassforposterity]

A beginner’s guide to goalie equipment

//

I’m taking a class dedicated to zine making and self-publishing this semester - and I made this for my first assignment. It’s twenty eight pages, printed on cream coloured paper, and saddlestitch bound with blue linen thread.

You guys seem to love goalies so I thought you might like this. I also love goalies, but in a sort of narcissistic way.

//

Full transcript with page numbers below the cut

(3) Under normal circumstances, there are six players on the ice from each team. One of these players is a goalie.

Hockey has a lot of rules, but to understand goaltending, you actually don’t need to understand most of them. All you need to know is that your team’s objective is to put a vulcanized rubber disk into your opponent’s net. This is called a goal. If you’re a goalie, then all you need to do is to stop your opponent from doing that to you. Most goals wins. Simple.

If items in pairs are treated as a single piece, then my goalie equipment consists of eleven pieces. They are as follows:

//

(4) It’s called a jock or a jill depending on your personal plumbing. This is the one that keeps you from getting hit directly in the junk.

They make ones specifically designed for goalies, but I don’t have one. After thirteen years as a full time goalie, this is the only piece of equipment designed for players that I still own.

“Jock and Jill went up the hill…”

//

(5) They look like shorts but they call them pants.

Goalie pants have extra padding to protect the front of your legs and very little padding on the back. If you fall on your ass, it’s gonna hurt. Ask me how I know.

//

(6/7) In comparison to the skates worn by players, goalie skates are shorter. The boot sits in this hard plastic dish called a cowling that keeps your feet from getting broken. New goalie skates have these built in.

Skating technique for goalies is based on pushing laterally rather than gliding forward, so the blades are straight instead of curved.

I’ve had my skates for almost ten years.

//

(8/9) Big, box-shaped pads made of synthetic leather that attach to your legs with straps, designed to take up as much space as possible. Hard enough that pucks bounce off, but soft enough to move in. Smooth on the sides so they can slide across the ice.

//

(10/11) If I needed a visual metaphor for goalie pads, I would represent them as wings.

//

(12/13) A piece of cut resistant fabric and padding that wraps around the neck and is secured with velcro, protecting it from cuts and from the impact of getting hit.

There’s an additional piece of hard plastic that hangs off the goalie mask by strings so you won’t get hit in the neck at all. These are known colloquially as danglers.

Neck guards are not mandatory in the NHL or PWHL. Some players wear them, but most players don’t. It’s your life, but I think you should wear one.

It is mandatory to wear a neck guard in minor hockey.

//

(14) One big piece of equipment that covers your entire upper body. A lot of little plates all connected to each other.

There is a lot of padding on the front.

And no padding on the back.

Goalie equipment is like a turtle shell, but in front of you instead of on your back. You have to learn not to be afraid. You won’t get hurt if you let yourself get hit head on.

//

(15) Why do they wear jerseys in any sport? So everyone looks the same, but with numbers to still be identifiable, I guess. In hockey, the number 1, but also the number 30 and 31 and other numbers in the 30s are widely considered to be numbers specially for goalies.

//

(16/17) A lot of goalie masks have custom paint jobs. My dream is to someday paint my own. If you know someone who could help me with that, please give them this zine.

I want to cover it in hands, because I love drawing them - but I’m worried that would make me look like a freak. Maybe that’s the point, everyone always says that goalies are weird.

Goalies wear pads and goalies wear art and goalies have special numbers just for them. Goalies do not have to look the same.

//

(18/19) It’s loud when you get hit in the head. If you get hit hard enough, the material of the mask will flex to mitigate the force of the impact and the straps keeping it attached to your head will pop off. So you don’t get hurt, your mask is designed to fail.

I once heard someone say they could never be a goalie because they aren’t mentally strong enough.

I don’t think this is true. Every kid cries at first when they get scored on and then sooner or later they stop. You will learn how to fail.

//

(20) Called a catcher or a trapper, but sometimes just referred to casually as the glove, it has a pocket to catch the puck. You have to break it in like a baseball glove. My dad and I spent years playing catch to break in my first glove.

My parents have two daughters and no sons. After we were born, people would ask my dad if he was disappointed to have no sons.

I don’t know why. You can play catch with your daughters.

//

(21) The blocker goes on your dominant hand and is the one you use to hold the stick. It’s a glove with a literal block of padding attached to it. If you position it properly, pucks will bounce off.

Like your pants, like your chest protector, like your mask, you have to face the puck head on. If you’re afraid, then you’ll get hurt. Do not be afraid.

//

(22/23) Hockey sticks are made out of molded carbon fibre and are hollow on the inside. Goalie sticks have a wider section at the base referred to as a paddle. The ideal paddle length varies depending on your height. You wrap the blade and end of the stick in tape for increased grip.

When I was fourteen I subbed as a goalie for another team at a tournament. My first crush on a girl was on a player on that team. She was blonde and wore glasses. I don’t remember her name. I haven’t seen her since.

There is a company that makes hockey tape with a rainbow pattern explicitly as a symbol of inclusion.

Last year the NHL banned its teams from wearing specialty jerseys in support of causes, any cause, on the ice. Later, they banned players from using pride tape on their sticks. When Travis Dermott used it anyway, the ban was overturned.

Marie-Philip Poulin is the captain of the Canadian national women's team. She plays on the same team as her wife, Laura Stacey.

We’ll get through this, please don’t be afraid.

//

(24/25) Goaltending works by covering as much of the net as you can. Obviously, the taller you are, the easier this is, but the way it’s actually achieved is with angles.

The closer you are to the puck, the less net there is to see. The better you face the puck, the less net there is to see. And of course, the faster you get to the puck, the better.

I am not tall, but I can get to the puck anyway.

If I needed a visual metaphor for goalie pads, I would represent them as wings. Why else would they call it the butterfly?

//

(26) How to be a goalie, in four simple steps:

Learn how to put on your equipment.

Learn to fail.

Learn to fly.

Do not be afraid.