#got pretty inspired by Pepsi

[kr0t1]

hmmm...

[sturnskiss]

imgonnagetyouback ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: matt sturniolo x popstar! reader

word count: 2.1k (holy shit)

summary: you are a world renowned popstar, and after a very public breakup with youtuber matt sturniolo, he can’t bare to watch you look hot on stage and know you’re no longer his. he’s determined to get you back.

warnings: smut obvi, p in v, fingering, swearing, use of ‘y/n’, nicknames (baby), overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be fucking stupid), matt calling reader ‘slutty’, probably more i can’t think of

authors note: I HAVE RETURNED!! i have come back from like a two month long hiatus (HIATUS??? DONT USE BIG WORDS MATTTT) to bring you guys the much requested imgonnagetyouback inspired fic featuring popstar! reader! in my mind i see popstar! reader as sabrina carpenter/madison beer type, not necessarily looks wise just their presence. anyways i love ya and thank u for all the kind words on pretty voice :(((

you walked around stage with more confidence then ever. you questioned if fake confidence still counts as confidence, but nobody seemed to know that you’re faking it. it had been 2 weeks since your breakup with matt, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t wreck you. but you don’t want to ruin the fans experience while you’re on tour, so you maintained your confident-happy-seductive-popstar act.

you were considered the new it girl of pop music. even though you were at your worst, you were getting a lot of attention. most questions fans asked you were about the breakup, but you were trending on twitter for a week straight. fans were making sad breakup edits and update accounts were notifying everyone about the latest stuff regarding the breakup.

because of those update accounts, you knew that matt and his brothers were at your show tonight. you didn’t know why, and even though it made you sick, you got up on the stage and shook your ass and sang your little heart out.

you wore a short lilac skirt, the one that fits you like skin. it drive matt crazy; the way it matched your skin tone so perfectly and accentuated your curves. you were a humble girl, but there were times you knew just how hot you were.

you felt bittersweet about this being the last stop of your tour. you were excited you could rest and grieve and mourn your ended relationship. but you were sad because of the happiness you did feel at one point performing to your fans and the family you created with your band.

with it being the last stop of tour, your team is throwing a little party at some club nearby the venue in seattle. it was planned for weeks now, and at the time you planned it, you added matt and his brothers name to the guest list. and you didn’t have the guts to remove it after the breakup, you didn’t even think you needed to because why would he show up? you regret it as you look at him from your spot on stage. he’s standing on the balcony with his brothers, and he looks guilty and mad at the same time. you quickly look away before you became sick, like how you normally feel seeing his face anywhere.

you say your goodbyes to the crowd and walk off stage as confetti shoots from the ceiling. you make your way backstage where your team awaits you, showering you with compliments and praises. the usual ‘you did so great tonight’ shit. matt used to be the first one to compliment you after a show, whispering sweet things in your ear; odd compliments that nobody else would tell you but that’s why they meant so much. you shake the thought of him from your mind as you pray that he won’t attend the party later tonight.

standing at the bar like somethings funny, bubbly.

God didn’t answer your prayers, unfortunately. you stood talking to one of your best friends, madison beer, but instead of keeping eye contact with her as she talks to you, your eyes are on matt. he’s on the other corner of the room by the bar, with his brothers. chris is sipping on a pepsi, nick with a dr. pepper, and matt has nothing in his hands. he glances over to you and goes back to his conversation with chris. he laughs and you wonder what he’s laughing at, you brush it off and engage in your conversation with madison.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. an endless stream of curse words run through your mind because knowing he’s in the same room as you, at your party, is driving you insane. you wander through the crowds, making small talk but never staying with the same people for long. you sneak a quick look at matt who seems oddly bubbly while he’s talking to some blonde girl. as if he can feel your stare, he looks at you and makes a face. not a disgusted face, but one that reads ‘i see you too.’

an hour or two passes and i see some blonde girl approach him, and i know he wouldn’t *dare*. while we technically can see other people, we were never *not* each others. the blonde girl, who had to have been someone’s plus one cause i know damn well i didn’t invite her, is so obviously flirting with him. how bold of her! he seems uninterested but he’s still talking to her, which makes me feel sick. i hate he still has that effect on me.

say you got somebody, i’ll say i got someone too.

i know it’s petty, but i just want him to know that i can have someone too. i walk up to the first boy that i see, making small talk and his eyes almost pop out of his head when he realizes who i am. i can feel matt’s stare from across the room. i have zero interest in this guy i’m talking to, i just want to piss matt off. i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. i tell all of my friends that i hate him, but i go fucking crazy when i see him or hear anything about him.

part of me wants to yell at him and curse him out, and the other half wants to take him back to my hotel. your phone is tucked into the neckline of your dress, feeling it vibrate. you smile at the stranger and pull your phone out, matt’s name on your lockscreen. you look over and see him staring at you. it definitely worked, this man is furious.

ten minutes later, you wait in the gender neutral bathroom. you apply more lipgloss in the mirror when matt walks in, quickly locking the door behind him.

“you hate parties,” you mutter as you layer on more mauve lipgloss, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

he shrugs, “yeah, but i don’t hate you.”

you roll your eyes, “well, i hate you.”

he laughs dryly, “yeah? how come you’re here then? in this bathroom with me, with the door locked?” he says, walking up behind you. you can feel his bulge against your ass.

you sigh and turn around, less than an inch of distance between you. “i hate you.”

he nods, “for sure.” he brings his thumb to your glossed lips, smirking. “so pretty.”

before you could even think twice, you’re sitting on the sink, wrapping your legs around matt’s waist, making out. maybe if you were sober you wouldn’t be in this situation, but if you were sober you probably would have wanted it more.

“hate you so much,” you mumble in between sloppy kisses.

“i know,” he mutters. he taps your thighs, signaling for you to spread them more. and of course, you do. he reaches his hand under your dress, pulling your panties to the side. he does all of this without breaking your kiss, too. and to no one’s surprise, you’re soaked.

he looks up at you, “you hate me so much but you’re soaking wet? doesn’t make sense.” he says.

“stop talking,” you whine.

he plunges two fingers into your cunt, and your hand immediately flies to your mouth. while it isn’t out of the ordinary to have sex in a bathroom at a club, you don’t want people to know it’s you.

he uses his other hand and pulls your hand away from your mouth. “let ‘em hear you.”

he continues fingering you until he feels your walls clench down on his fingers, and he pulls them out.

“matt!” you whine.

he nods, “i know, baby.” matt loves to edge you, and it pisses you off.

you roll your eyes and push him away, hopping off the sink. “no, i really do hate you.”

matt rolls his eyes, “oh, here we go again with that bullshit.”

you’re about to unlock the door and walk out of it before matt stops you. he swats your hand away from the door knob and walks closer to you until you’re up against the door.

“off,” he says, tugging at the fabric of your dress. and even though you said you hated him 5 seconds ago, you obey him.

he helps you wiggle out of your dress, you step out of it and slide it across the bathroom.

matt takes his belt off and unbuttons his jeans, you slide his boxers down to his ankles along with his jeans.

you’re still against the door when matt says, “jump.” you quickly obey, wrapping your legs around his hips. he uses the door to help not drop you, and you’re sure your back will hurt and have some bruises after this.

his dick is firmly pressing against your clit, and matt uses one arm to support you and the other to slide his dick inside your entrance. you hadn’t had his cock in a couple months, and it’s like it’s the first time again.

“oh fuck,” he groans. “still so tight. none of the other guys can stretch you like i do, huh?” he whispers into your ear.

“shut up and fuck me already, matt.�� you reply bitterly.

“if you say so,” he whispers before bucking his hips into you so hard you think you might have a bruise.

“oh!” you gasp.

matt maintains eye contact with you, “you miss this dick?”

you nod as he continues to fuck into you, the door rattling against you.

“i don’t believe that, use your words, y/n.” he teases.

“i missed— oh fuck, missed your dick,” you whimper.

he pushed you harder against the door behind you so he could use his other hand to rub circles on your clit.

“well, i missed this pussy too. know it missed me back.”

your hole fluttered at his words which made him let out a soft groan. you felt his dick everywhere, in your soul.

he moved his hand away from your clit, leaving you trembling.

“m’back hurts,” you whined as he slid his dick in and out of you.

matt looked at you with sympathy, “i know baby… but we’re in a bathroom cause you’re jus’ so needy, so there’s not much room for me to fuck you like i want.”

this was true.

he rammed into you harder and faster, causing you to let out an almost pornographic shriek.

matt dryly laughed, “sound so pretty. such a pretty voice.”

you knew how much matt loved your career. the most famous pop girl at the moment wrapped around his finger. he loved watching your shows and seeing how all your female fans would bring their boyfriends to a concert and he’d watch their intense stares as you pranced around on stage in nothing but a tiny dress and heels. everyone wanted to fuck you or be you, and he loved that you were his in every way. but after the breakup, he’s gotten angry so of course he has to make up for lost time with a very intense fuck.

he slammed into you and pulled out just as quick, repeating this until he can feel your walls tightening against his lengthy cock.

“c’mon, baby. know your close, give it to me.” he whispered in your ear.

“oh god,” you moaned.

matt stopped fucking you, “s’not my name, baby.”

you whined, “fuck me, matt.” you said, putting emphasis on his name.

he smiled and started pounding into you again. “good job, baby. love when you use that pretty lil voice of yours.”

your nails scratched artwork onto his back, maybe breaking skin but matt didn’t mind at all.

“you gonna cum?” he taunted.

you nodded, “matt!”

“cum for me baby,” he demanded.

“oh god! oh, oh matt!” you said it correctly this time as your orgasm ripped through you. the first genuinely good one in two weeks.

matt didn’t slow down, he stayed fucking you through your orgasm.

“can’t!” you yelled.

matt shook his head, “you can. jus’ gimme one more. one more.”

you shut your eyes tightly gripping onto his back as tight as you can. you start squirming as your next orgasm approaches.

“m’cumming! oh! matt, i’m cumming!”

he nods, “i know baby.”

after you come down from your orgasm high, matt helps you adjust yourself so you look presentable to go back out into your party.

you reapply your lip gloss and run your fingers through your hair, combing them out. you fix your dress while matt hands you your panties.

“well, it was nice seeing you.” you say sweetly, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“very nice.” he says with a smirk on his face. he adjusts his hair too before unlocking the door and holding it open for you. you’re greeted by a long line of upset faces waiting to use the bathroom.

you and matt make side eye each other as you walk away from the crowd, giggling.

you and matt both know you were never not each others.

[holybibly]

Bunnies, I'm feeling generous and sweet today, so I'm going to suggest that you play a game with me. You all know that I'm going to write a full-length fic inspired by the boys' performance at Coachella.

So I'll give you a little hint. The bunny who guesses the idea and the member or members will get the chance to get a full-length fic from me on any topic and for any member. Your idea, my execution - sounds like heaven, doesn't it?

You can guess in the comments below this post, and I'll contact the winner (if there is one in the DM). You can do this until the end of Ateez's set at Coachella. Good luck everyone.

My work is inspired by these lines

My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola My eyes are wide like cherry pies I gots a taste for men who are older It's always been so it's no surprise

Harvey's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy (I come alive, alive) All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby

[copperbadge]

EXCITING NEWS GUYS

I'm on the flight home, for a start, but also on the flight they have

Diet Coke My Beloved.

I don't feel good about how brand loyal I am but I can't drink regular soda of any kind, and Coke Zero or any brand of Pepsi at all just aren't the same.

It feels like it's been a century since I got on the plane to London. Lots of mixed emotions right now; I had a great time, but I'm glad to be going home, I missed my cats and my own bed and Diet Coke. But also I'm going home to, you know, my life -- responsibilities and duties, cleaning and chores, work documents that I'm two weeks behind on. I spent ten days basically only doing as I liked, and except for one or two hairy moments involving trains, I rarely had any stress of any kind. On the other hand, while I've gotten a lot of creative inspiration from the trip, I didn't do much writing -- no time or energy really -- so it'll be nice to be home with the space to process it all.

In other news, having flown basic economy to London and flying "Premium plus" (not quite first class, but close) home, premium is the way to go. Worth every penny for the footrest alone.

Also for just a touch of the absurd, this flight is pretty evenly split 50/50 between a large tour group of retirees and a downright gaggle of Catholic priests. And then me.

[pawnshopbleus]

Cola

robin buckley x fem!reader

summary - Inspired by the iconic lyric: “My pussy taste like Pepsi cola.” 

warnings - oral sex (f!receiving), lesbians, tbh idk what this is 

words - 1.2k 

THE Hawkins movie theater had just received a new slushy flavor. Instead of the typical cherry and raspberry, they added another classic: Pepsi.

“Please can we go?” you begged your girlfriend the day she came over.

“You want to go to the movie theater just to get a slushy?” Robin raised a brow.

You jumped up from the couch in your living room, “Yes! You finally got it.”

That’s the two of you found yourselves in the movie theater, waiting in line for the new slushy flavor. You hung off of Robin’s arm and gazed up at her with a huge smile.

“I wonder what It will taste like?” you wondered. Maybe it would taste like coke instead of Pepsi. Maybe it would taste like dirty ice water. Even if it had the signature Pepsi name on it you still had to make sure it would taste as such.

Robin chuckled and rolled her eyes. She knew you were just testing her. If you two weren’t in public then she would have leaned down and kissed your lips until they fell off. You were just too cute. The two of you got to the counter and the person working at the front counted and asked what the two of you would like.

Robin ordered for the two of you, “Can I just get one Pepsi slushy and one cherry slushy, please and thank you.”

The two of you got your slushies and walked off to the side. You happily sucked on your slushy and sighed. It was just as good as the normal soda. “God, I love capitalism.”

Robin choked on her cherry slushy, “Babe, I don’t think you’re supposed to say that.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she put her hand over your shoulder and lead you to the movie auditoriums. Robin wasn’t going to come to the movie theater just to get a slushy. It would go against her morals so you two were going to watch Pretty in Pink for the third time this month. Before the two of you made it to the auditorium she leaned down close to your ear and whispered, “I hope you enjoy the movie because when we get home, I want to find out just how good that Pepsi tastes.”

                           ●・○・●・○・●

The movie was good. Just like the first two times you’d seen it. Robin had gotten you all worked up during the movie. She put her hand on your upper thigh, letting it glide from your knee to your upper thigh. She would leave a few kisses on your neck here and there. Luckily, the two of you were the only ones in the theater so it wasn’t like you were going to get caught.

Now you were home. Your parents were asleep in their room. Your parents liked your ‘best friend,’ Robin. Your parents described her as a kind, sweet, and caring young lady. So, they didn’t mind whenever Robin ‘slept over.’ To be honest, when she came over the two of you did get much sleep.

You put your pointer finger over your mouth and looked at Robin. You mouthed, “My parents are asleep,” and pointed at their room. Robin winked and smiled. You grabbed Robin’s arm and pulled her into your room.

“Thank you for today,” you hugged Robin. She hugged you back and slid her hands up and down your back as the two of you swayed from side to side.

“Stop swaying before you made me sleepy,” you grumbled.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked gazing at your lips.

You smirked and in a low whisper, you said, “Yes,” before you pressed your lips onto hers.

The kiss wasn’t like the normal ones the two of you shared. It was slow and sweet and sensual. There was less tongue, less teeth classing, and less neediness. The two of you felt less rushed to get through this. You just wanted to feel her and she just wanted to feel you.

Robin broke the kiss and put her forehead on yours, “Can I take this off?” she motioned to your clothes.

“Yes.”

Robin made quick work of your clothes and took them off piece by piece. She enjoyed taking your clothes off. It was as if she was unwrapping her very own birthday present.

“Lay on the bed for me,” she said as she took her jean jacket off and threw it in the corner of your room. She rolled up the sleeves of her green long-sleeve shirt and kneeled in front of you. Robin ran her hands up the expanse of your legs and set them on the top of your thigh.

“Look at how pretty you look for me,” she smirked.

“Only for you,” you said as you looked down at your girlfriend.

She spread your legs apart. She began kissing your thigh, trailing a path up to the place where you needed her most. Then she removed herself from between your legs and pushed herself up. She took her index and pointer finger and ran it across your bottom lip.

“Open.”

You immediately followed her orders and opened your mouth. You took her fingers into her mouth and swirled your tongue around them. She took her fingers out of your mouth and smiled. She trailed her fingers down your neck, then your sternum, your stomach, and then your left thigh. She kneeled between your legs again and ran a finger through your pussy lips. She spread your arousal over your clit and smiled at the way you reacted.

“You like that, huh?” you nodded and she chuckled and did it again.

She spread your thighs a bit further. And kissed along your folds. She liked teasing you, getting you worked up, hot, and bothered. She finally did what you needed her to do. She attached her mouth to your clit. Not too hard yet not too soft. She teased your entrance with her fingers then she slowly eased them into you.

“Don’t stop, please,” you pleaded. You hated begging. You thought it was pathetic but in times like this, you didn’t care.

You could feel Robin smirk into your pussy. She thrust her fingers gently in and out of you. She picked up the pace a bit and re-attached her mouth to your throbbing clit. You were close, and Robin could feel it.

“Are you close?” she asked, looking at you through her eyebrows.

You nodded. Robin took her fingers out of you and rubbed them in circles around your clit while her tongue teased your entrance.

You could feel the tingling sensation, build up in your stomach. The control you once had was now gone and you began shaking with ecstasy. You came all over your girlfriend's face.

You took a few seconds to collect yourself, your chest going up and down with every breath.

She went to the bathroom that was built into your room and grabbed a towel from the towel rack, ran it under the tap, and returned back to you.

You were still laying on your bed when Robin came back. She cleaned you up and put the towel into the dirty clothes hamper. She slid into bed with you, your naked body wrapped around her clothed one.

“That was nice,” you said as you yawned.

Robin smiled and kissed your nose, “I’m glad my little Pepsi queen.”

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 07/09/2024 (Nothin')

Sabrina Carpenter takes the entire top three for a second week - “Taste” at #1 (also its second week there) with “Please Please Please” at #2 and “Espresso” at #3. And whilst we’re here, the rest of the UK Singles Chart’s top five consists of Chappell Roan’s “Good Luck, Babe!” at #4, “BIRDS OF A FEATHER” by Billie Eilish at #5, and this episode at… 8:15. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start the episode with the notable dropouts, those being songs exiting the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, we bid adieu to “Did it First” by Ice Spice and Central Cee, and yes, that’s it. This was not a particularly exciting week and the rest of the dropouts simply weren’t notable, much was just Fontaines D.C. naturally slipping away after the first week. In fact, realistically, you can skip this week. We’ve got two debuts in the lower reaches and a whole bunch of gains that mostly just feel expected or temporary given how slow this week was in particular. There’s not much in the way of a surge or fascinating trend here, just kind of a stall-out, which is natural for a chart but does not leave me with much to say, hence the stalling.

We see returns for “These Words” by Badger and Natasha Bedingfield at #75 and “You’re Gonna Go Far” by Noah Kahan at #60, but most of the stories, if you can call them that, are deep into our notable gains, with boosts for “Belong Together” by Mark Ambor at #64, “The Man Who Can’t be Moved” by The Script at #62 and God, you know it’s a slow week when “Mr. Brightside” is up six spots to #59. After that, we see rises for “You & Me” by Disclosure featuring Eliza Doolittle at #56, “Black Friday (pretty like the sun)” by Tom Odell and Lost Frequencies at #55 - can’t be mad at those - then “Close to You” by Gracie Abrams at #53, “Diet Pepsi” by Addison Rae at #50, probably the most notable gain here for a pretty mediocre song, then “Pretty Slowly” by Benson Boone at #43, “WE PRAY” by Coldplay and co. at #31, unfortunately, “I Love You, I’m Sorry” by Gracie Abrams at #25, “Sailor Song” by Gigi Perez at #24, “Slow it Down” by Benson Boone at #19 and some residual hype for the Oasis comeback really seeping into the highest reaches of the chart: “Wonderwall” at #11, “Don’t Look Back in Anger” at #9 and “Live Forever” at a brand new peak of #8. Now to look at the two songs debuting in the top 75 right near the bottom and see if I’ll look back in anger at these flops or that these iconic smashes will live forever. I… don’t think I can pull that one off.

New Entries

#73 - “Indestructible” - Andy C and Becky Hill

Produced by Andy C

Part of me is somewhat excited for a song like this - a lesser-known producer, so one less likely to be coasting on name recognition, teams up with a recently inspired Becky Hill, whose last album was great, for a single with a cover art that looks straight out of 2014. Surely, this will be alright, and it very much is in the vein of what I expected, though with a sense of epic bombast that the charts do sometimes miss… and contrasts heavily with our other debut. The layered buzz of synths behind Becky are peppered with smaller synth plucks that are really cute to notice, and eventually transform into a pulsing build-up that, whilst sometimes clunky with its percussion, locks in well enough for a distorted, warping bass in the expected drum and bass drop alongside some really detailed synthwork in that moment that really fills the mix in what is basically just a dancefloor smash with little error. It’s not going for anything too drastic, in fact, the sound is reminiscent of exactly what I expected going in, but it dedicates itself to that sound in a way that is far from cheap and ends up being just as immersive as the best tracks from Becky’s last record. I could even see it slotting in and not doing too much damage to the tracklist cohesion. As far as if it will be a success, who knows? I do want to say it has some promise on sheer quality alone, but we’ll see.

#72 - “TOO COOL TO BE CARELESS” - PAWSA

Produced by PAWSA

PAWSA was the guy behind the second of the Nate Dogg bootleg remixes - if that sounds weird to you, it is weird but I covered it in detail when those songs debuted - and it seems like that has actually landed him some vague follow-up success, with our highest debut - weird to say that about a #72 peak thus far - being his single that had been bubbling under for a few weeks. Our story actually starts long before, however, in 1984 with the release of “Don’t Look Any Further” by the late Dennis Edwards featuring Siedah Garrett, an R&B staple that has been prolifically sampled in countless of rap songs, primarily for its bassline and iconic vocal riffs. The original actually only peaked at #45 here, but a cover by M People reached #9 in 1993, whilst Meat Loaf was #1 for “I’d Do Anything for Love (but I Won’t Do That)”, and again, it’s been sampled way more times to even list here, as the songs that sampled it have themselves become iconic, oft-sampled hits like “Shackles (Praise You)” by Mary Mary or “Hit ‘Em Up” by 2Pac. In his new version, PAWSA pitches it down and emphasises the subtler synth funk elements in the original mix to an almost vintage house sound that really is minimal in both presentation and composition, getting by on a classic bassline and some cute but basic drum programming, as well as the flickering synth line and a mixed vocal from Edwards that does not sound great at this pitch. What’s most disappointing is that you could easily turn singular elements of this song into fully realised, new songs as has been done before, so if you’re packaging this as its own thing, not just a remix, it wouldn’t hurt to take a few more artistic risks, and I’m honestly confused as to why PAWSA wouldn’t want to outside of laziness or just knowing that a great sample that was a minor hit back then can be just as successful at a different tempo. This is definitely better than hiss Nate Dogg remix, but I do feel like there could be much more potential here that’s untapped.

Conclusion

I mean, it should be obvious given I’m picking between two tracks, but Andy C and Becky Hill get Best of the Week for “Indestructible” whilst PAWSA snabs the Worst of the Week for “TOO COOL TO BE CARELESS”, though saying I have any strong feelings about these would be a lie. As for what’s on the horizon, I expect Megan Thee Stallion, Central Cee Linkin Park to do some damage but maybe The Chainsmokers, Aitch or Fred again.. can spice things up too. Somehow, the easier weeks end up as the dullest to write. For now, thank you for reading, rest in peace to Rich Homie Quan, and I’ll see you next week!

[ask-agent-rapzutin-vodello]

Author, buddy, home skillet biscuit

Lets get to know you! What was one of the things that inspired you to make this au? Do you have any scrapped plans or outcomes that would have been you'd like to share?

Also, Pepsi or Coke? There can be only one.

I'm a Cola Zero man, so ...that.

As some background info, I'd like to mention that I got introduced in the Psychonauts fandom with the second game, which I bought in September of that year.

So, as I usually do when hyperfixating on a new fandom, I was reading a lot of fanfiction and looking at a lot of fanart. I really liked art where Milla was acting motherly to Raz, like one where she makes him a packed lunch, and he accidentally call her mom(? Something like that.)

But I also noticed some fics and art where it almost was where Raz was adopted by Milla and Sasha. Or art where Raz plainly runs away from the Aquatos, which I didn't find realistic - as realistic as you can get with this game - because Raz loves his family, and I don't see him getting away from them.

One day I came across this art piece from @pokemon22551, which kinda sparked the idea. Even though it had been years - barring some fics I wrote after really getting into Animaniacs with the reboot - since I've written fanfics, I decided to give it a try, thinking I could just leave it if it didn't catch on. I made this blog, started writing the first chapter ...and the rest is history.

As for scrapped ideas ...

The whole Frazie/Norma standalone story is pretty much shelved, with most of what happened revealed through asks.(I might write some one-shots containing some scenes, or a chronological list of events that would happen)

The chapters with going into the minds of Helmut Fullbear, Bob Zanotto Compton Boole and Cassie O'P weren't gonna be in the story. I didn't want to do a 'Psychonauts 2, but it's an AU' like I've read a few times before. So I had no plans of writing those things out. They were gonna be three sentence mentions. Raz pops in, Raz pops out. Done. Kinda glad I did, though.

The Razgado event was gonna happen a few chapters earlier, right after Raz had met with the Aquato parents, but I wanted to give the others some 'screentime' as well, plus planting the seeds for the whole Frazie and Norma budding romance.

There was an alternate plan for the Aquatos finding out Raz was still alive. I had plans for Frazie to bump into Raz, Milla, Sasha and the others during a shopping trip.

Norma and Raz didn't have the close sister-brother relationship at first, which you can kinda see in the first chapters. Normally he would only refer to Lizzie as his sister, because in the game it felt like Lizzie was acting kinda sisterly towards Raz after the Casino missions.

The whole Delugionist thing at the end came after I got the idea for the sequel while I was still writing "The Lives and Times".

I've let out an entire part where a Delugionist spy - a drowned, as they call themselves - would have taken pictures of the Razgado event, and gotten into contact with the criminal group I'm using in the sequel to contact the Delugionist leadership. decided to leave it out, because it messed up the flow of the epilogue.

One chapter got rewritten partially, at the request from readers, who felt I rushed a certain picnic scene.

Nona was going to appear in chapter 15, together with Ford in Raz's mind. I decided to leave it out, because the explanation was kinda farfetched, even for Psychonauts.

Norma and Frazie could have become a couple in the chapter where they fought, but I decided I'd write a story about that instead.

There are probably more, but I don't really recall them at the moment.

[otnesse]

@pepsi-al Making a separate post regarding your and Mattress's exchange about Pokemon ratings, since I can't reblog the latter directly:

pepsi-al: themattress: Here are the regular ratings averages for the Pokeani shows following the OS (all you need to know about that is that it was perpetual highs in Kanto, Orange Islands and early Johto, and then the biggest rating drop in the franchise happened during the rest of Johto.) AG: 1 - 35 (Series Premiere — May’s First Contest) = 9.0 36 - 80 (Musuem Theft — May’s Fourth Contest) = 8.0 / 7.0 81 - 131 (Resumed Fillers — Hoenn League) = 6.0 132 - 192 (Battle Frontier) = 6.0 / 5.0 DP: 1 - 85 (Series Premiere — Ash vs. Crasher Wake) = 7.0 86 - 141 (Summer School arc — Meeting Palmer) = 6.0 / 5.0 142 - 152 (Evil Togepi — Team Galactic Finale) = 7.0 153 - 170 (Resumed Fillers — Meeting Bertha) = 6.0 171 - 191 (Dawn gets Togekiss — Series Finale) = 5.0 BW: 1 - 60 (Series Premiere — Milos Island) = 6.0 / 5.0 61 - 82 (Ash vs. Clay — Pokewood Studios) = 4.0 83 - 108 (Ash vs. Roxie — Unova League) = 6.0 / 5.0 109 - 122 (Episode N) = 4.0 123 - 142 (Decalore Adventures) = 3.0 XY: 1- 44 (Series Premiere — Ash vs. Korrina) = 5.0 45 - 66 (Serena Gets a Goal — Return to Lumiose City) = 4.0 67 - 122 (Ash vs. Clemont — Ash vs. Wulfric) = 3.0 123 - 141 (Kalos League — Series Finale) = 2.0 Basically, DP and BW were successful, AG and XY less so. Coincidentally (or not), Gens IV and V were more popular than Gens III and VI. Maybe Gen VII’s popularity will reflect on the ratings for the SM anime…but if it’s popular and the show still bombs, that’ll be interesting. And I saw someone on YouTube just now literally try to point this fact out about XYZ specifically. In the replies he got, there was nothing but reality denial and blind accusations of “hatred”. I just can’t with this fandom, sometimes… As I have said before and will say again, ratings doesn’t necessarily reflect quality or opinion, they reflect interest. I found a chart about it and drew lines for the baseline ratings that would be expected for each series (which is basically a million less that the previous series.) For the most part, the Original Series was well above the line, sinking under only toward the end of Johto but rising back up for the Johto League. Like I noted above, AG remained above water for around 80 episodes before sinking, only having a temporary rise to expected numbers during the Hoenn League before promptly dropping when Battle Frontier, viewed as a “filler” arc, started. DP sagged following the Summer School arc, rose back up around the time of HeartGold/SoulSilver’s release, but then fell again around the time of the Grand Festival and never recovered ‘til the end. BW did just fine for all of its 2010 and 2011 run, but then fell in 2012 until the Black 2/White 2-inspired “Season 2″ rebrand brought the numbers up again….until the Unova League, after which there was a freefall. XY held steady for its first half, then dropped like a stone in its second half. SM, as it turns out, is the most stable the anime’s ever been ratings-wise, the numbers rising to the line then back under over and over again like the tides of the ocean (appropriate!), with the main drop happening in the final year with the change in timeslot and the advent of streaming services providing an alternative way of watching the show. While the series known internationally as Journeys…..yeah, let’s just say there’s a pretty good reason we seem to be looking the end in the face right now. But like I said, ratings reflect interest, not quality. I personally found the second half of XY, especially XY&Z, to be drastically better than the first half, but that doesn’t matter since the target audience in Japan got burned out by the first half that their interest in the whole show dropped completely. That SM never had a comparable plummet speaks volumes about which style the kids preferred, so the producers embracing that style for Journeys makes sense.

Looking over those ratings, it's pretty clear that if anything, the biggest and most prolonged drop in ratings actually happened in AG, not Johto (even Johto at least tended to stay above the line even if it's undoubtedly less than Orange Islands or Kanto especially). Really acts as a bit of vindication to me that this proves the audience did NOT like Hidaka's decision to axe Misty, ultimately. Sure, AG started off strong, but it ended up tanking quickly, and not due to the fad dying out either. And it being turned into Contest hour at Ash's expense certainly didn't seem to help either, nor the rather cheap wins against Gym Leaders. DP for all its faults at least found a way to stabilize the ratings somewhat, and BW, even though I personally found Ash's character reduction to being an idiot distasteful, at least did overall well ratings wise until the league (which is obviously due to Ash losing his rank).

So, no, Johto, for all its faults, didn't nearly kill the show, and AG most certainly didn't save the show. Quite the opposite, the mishandling of AG if anything is what helped KILL the show ultimately. Sun and Moon, even though I really disagreed with the decision to go all Emperor's New School on it, at least did better by actually trying to do better quality for the most part, not to mention actually have Ash WIN an in-game league and, heck, even bring back Misty and Brock to fix one of the biggest glaring problems with the show (namely, the mishandling of gym leaders).

The AG-stans really need to look at the ratings better, because this definitely doesn't look at all like AG even saved the show at all and if anything is more likely to have driven the show's audience away in a massive number, ultimately leading to Ash being replaced after one mistake too many. You would think they'd learn their lesson after Orange Islands that replacing one of your leads would not work in the long run, but alas... Sure, maybe keeping Misty wouldn't have guaranteed that the ratings would go back to Kanto or Orange Islands level, but at least it would have had AG having its ratings be above the line rather than consistently below it, barely meeting it at best.

[mkfiq]

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[thedarkplume]

What's up, my friends???

I promised you all in June that I would be back in August for another massive post. Here I am!

Today is August 13th, better known as the 39th birthday to the man who through his body of work has inspired happiness, sadness, fury, laughter, tears, a little bit of fear, and of course, lust beyond our wildest dreams.

He's been a sergeant turned assassin turned Avenger. He's been a witch and a mad hatter, a doctor and astronaut. He's been an undercover detective and a corrupted sheriff who's pretty nifty with a Pepsi cup. He's been an especially bendy gold medalist and will pretend to be your cousin just to steal your money. He's been a race car driver, a pentagon suit, and a husband who will take out his wife's competition at the knees all the while rocking an awesome pornstache. He's gotten naked and shown us his cheeks, he's even graced the screen with glasses and pouty lips making us forget for a moment that he was spree killer. And very soon, we will get to see him as a world famous rockstar with a to die for sextape. I'm speaking of course of the talented, incomparable Sebastian Stan!!!

You all know how much I try to support every author on this site I come across by either following, liking, or reblogging. These past two years, I have had the privilege of coming across some very memorable stories featuring various forms of Sebastian Stan's many characters. I spent the last two weeks compiling a list of 30 of my absolute favorite stories.

Before we begin, be advised some of these stories are dubious consent, non-con, daddy kink, mommy kink, spitting, squirting, oral m/f receiving, creampie, anal, double penetration, explicit language, and all other manner of kinks I did not realize I enjoyed until joining this fandom.

So let's jump right in!

@shurisneakers ~ Harmless ~ Bucky Barnes

I'm about maybe ten chapters in. It's hard to tell because the story flows so seamlessly. You've got a "villian" that S.H.I.E.L.D. constantly monitors, and lo and behold Bucky is assigned to the mission. This one's such a hidden gem!

@luxeavenger ~ Backstage Pass ~ Rockstar!Bucky Barnes

This is probably the sixth or seventh Rockstar!Bucky story I've read and it's only renewed my love for Sebastian Stan and his Tommy Lee look. I've never, ever fantasized about what it might be like to fall in love with a rockstar, let alone two, but Backstage Pass has me longing for the days when music was still worth wanting to follow the band.

@navegandoaciegas ~ No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin ~ Innocent!Priest Bucky Barnes

Whew! This one is a trip. Usually, in these types of stories, the priest is the predator. In this one, Bucky is the prey. It's everything you didn't realize you wanted in a story.

@jobean12-blog ~ Drawn to Love ~ Bucky Barnes

I love visiting this blog. The writing here reminds me of @donutloverxo in that you get a sense of a sweet, gentle reader almost every time with their partners always being loving and protective. This particular story was written in response to Marvel's What If...? I enjoyed this story so much that I'm not concerned whether I watch the actual show or not. It's that good.

@gotnofucks ~ Their Surrogate ~ Dark!Bucky & Dark!Steve

This one was rough. So well written! In the beginning, despite heeding the warnings, you think Bucky and Steve are these wonderful men just looking to make their family complete by having a child. It's actually so much worse than that! Dibs is amazing and I'm never disappointed or left wanting with her stories. You read Their Surrogate and you'll see why!

@avintagekiss24 ~ Contour ~ Shadow Monster!Bucky

Brittany is one of the most talented, creative writers I have ever had the honor to read from. I never imagined sex with a shadow monster, even if the shadow monster is Bucky. Yet, she makes it happen, and afterwards, once you've calmed down, I guarantee you will actively search the shadows of your bedroom walls wishing it was Bucky looking back at you.

@river-soul ~ A Tender Heart ~ Alpha!Bucky Barnes

A/B/O stories can go either way. A Tender Heart, however, gives you a burgeoning love story between a shy Omega and an Alpha who's very conscious of the people's perception of his former life.

@afriendlyblackhottie ~ Nosey ~ Bucky Barnes

This story is a lot of fun. Essentially, Bucky has a gorgeous girlfriend that he's keeping a secret from the team because those guys are, as the title says nosey as hell.

@mypoisonedvine ~ Liberation ~ 70s!Bucky Barnes

Bucky is a bastard in this, I have to say it. But I love the 1970s setting and the attitudes of the era. In this one, the story is completely from Bucky's POV, and as his agitation rises, you know he's going to do something bad to the "mouthy feminist".

@jaybrogers ~ The Ballad of Ghost Bucky ~ Ghost!Bucky

This one is written in the style of a folktale. It reminds me of those unsettling songs and poems in between the stories written in Alvin Schwartz's Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

@foxgloveprincess ~You Just Have To Wait ~ Naga!Bucky & Minotaur!Steve

This one is a follow-up to her monster story, It's A Game of Give and Take. The reader is now in a fully developed relationship with Bucky and Steve. There are a lot of comical mishaps and bad timings before we get to see what it's like to make love with a Naga and Minotaur. Fun fact: I'm not at all fond of snakes, but Bucky as a Naga with a bonus appendage weakens my resolve!

@nellblazer ~ Check Out Anytime You Like ~ Ghost!Bucky Barnes

Bucky is not the central character in this fic, but his tragic backstory and the fragility of his emotions resonated with me in such a way that he's the first person I think of whenever this story comes to mind.

@marvelmaree ~ Reverse ~ Bucky Barnes

I'm all about Bucky getting the love story he deserves after so much suffering. This story not only delivers on that front, but we get to go to Wakanda!!!

@jimblejamblewriting ~ Not Quite a Soldat ~ Bucky Barnes

This is one of the best Bucky centric fics I've ever read. It's set in the beginning of Captain America The Winter Soldier and tells the difference in Bucky's story if only he had one more person in his corner.

@angrythingstarlight ~ Bucky's Goats ~ Bucky Barnes

Star has a plethora of Bucky stories. I chose this classic because it's set in Wakanda and we get to see Bucky's goats. Something that seems to be a distant memory now.

@navybrat817 ~ A Familiar Face ~ Bucky Barnes & The Winter Soldier

You're married to James Buchanan Barnes, what could be better than that? Getting a visit from the Winter Soldier.

@syntheticavenger ~ Right + Click + Save ~ Bucky Barnes

This is one of the more lighthearted fics on Synths page. Bucky is completely tech inept here and it's such a sweet story.

@msruchita ~ The Institute ~ Sebastian Stan / Destroyer!Chris / Dr. Chris Beck / Carter Baizen / Bucky Barnes / Chase Collins / Lance Tucker / Charles Blackwood / Hal Carter

The Institute is written like an amalgamation of all of our fantasies. You end up accepted into a school you don't remember applying for and eight of Sebastian's characters are there serving as your professors and administrators, as well as Sebastian himself.

@dreamlessinparis ~ Informal Affairs ~ Mob!Bucky Barnes

Mob!Bucky is one the best Bucky character arcs. Coupling this with a tale of redemption and love preserving, Informal Affairs is a refreshing change from the usual mob boss stories.

@littlelioncub43 ~ Forts and Sweet Boys ~ College!Justin Capshaw

Lately, there has been a surge of Justin Capshaw stories and drabbles. Sebastian appeared on a episode of Law & Order titled 'Shelter' in 2003, as Justin Capshaw who was a 15-year-old sniper with a heartbreaking backstory. This single episode attests to the versatility of Sebastian's acting range. Forts and Sweet Boys is a delicious and heartfelt glimpse into the world of Mommy Kinks.

@constantwriter85 ~ Seasons of Love ~ Bucky Barnes

This story deals with Bucky suffering from PTSD. He acquires the cutest service dog and like something out of 101 Dalmatians, ends up meeting the love of his life by means of mistaken doggy identity. This is a must read.

@lotusss-flowerbomb ~ Nice To Meet You ~ Bucky Barnes

One of her newer stories, Nice To Meet You takes place during The Falcon & The Winter Soldier. Rather it being only Sam and Sarah, they have another sister who is not afraid to call Bucky out on starting shit with Sam for handing over The Shield. With so many people having an adverse reaction to Bucky being romantically linked to Sarah Wilson because she's a black woman, this story is not only a middle finger to the face of racists, but it's a wonderful what if to the actual What If.

@sagechanoafterdark ~ All Good Things ~ Bucky Barnes

I love ghost stories and tales of the paranormal, but I'm not sure if I could be as calm as the reader in this story when she realize Bucky's ghost is in her apartment. But I finished this series in under two hours because of how good it is. And like in any instance when the paranormal is involved, nothing is ever as it appears to be.

@sweetlyscared ~ You Found Me ~ Bucky Barnes

Soulmate fics are always either really sweet or really tragic. You Found Me combines both. If you didn't already hate Hydra before (of course you do, what's wrong with you?) you definitely will when you read You Found Me.

@slothspaghettiwrites ~ Give me a hand to hold and skin to taste ~ Demon!Lee Bodecker

Who of us has not felt the bitter sting of loneliness? The solution? Summon a crossroads demon! This story is one my go to rereads.

@giorno-plays-piano ~ Orc!Bucky Imagine ~ Orc!Bucky

I usually don't list headcannons because I end up finding something a bit longer to reference, but this one was more of a story formatted like a headcannon. The story itself was a take on the vicious battles waged between humans and orcs. Bucky takes captive the daughter of the humans who slew his parents and cut off his arm. This story would make a killer novella.

@sinner-as-saint ~ Cherry ~ Mob!Sebastian

Some of the greatest Bucky Barnes stories I have read in the past come from @sinner-as-saint particularly the Mafia stories. Cherry is a Mob series that almost immediately gained its popularity through Seb's ruthlessness in his business and softness with his girl. This was my first foray in the Mob world and I've been hooked ever since.

@boxofbonesfic ~ Daylight Robbery ~ Thief!Bucky

Just seeing Thief!Bucky is enough to make you want to read this story. Seeing Bucky actually break into someone's apartment and then get taken down by a cast iron skillet! 😂 For a former assassin he really lacks in paying attention to apartment numbers. If you missed Daylight Robbery, I strongly encourage you to read it. You won't regret it!

@moonbeambucky ~ Friday Night Fights ~ Wrestler!Bucky Barnes

I can't think of a better concept than combining one of the world's greatest loves (wrestling) with the greatest characters ever created (the avengers). This is such a fresh and innovative concept. I reread Friday Night Fights as often as I can. It brings back memories of being a kid and waiting for Smackdown every Thursday night.

@buckycuddlebuddy ~ Peaches series ~ Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes

Usually, Dad's Best Friend stories are about as iffy for me as Stepdad stories, but this one is just too good to pass up. The smut, the emotions, even the concern over her parents finding out, all come together to make this a uniquely enthralling story.

So, thank you all for stopping by to help celebrate the man who has continued to entertain us for nearly twenty years and still going strong.

Happy Birthday, Sebastian!!! We love you!!

As always, let's close by enjoying some lovely edits by the talented @nix-akimbo

[swingsetindecember]

Okay, you keep talking about Padme getting girls excited about sci-fi, and a lack of female protagonists... is it just an age-proximity thing? Because she's young? I mean, Natalie Portman is the best thing about the prequels (maybe tied with Ewan McGregor), but... did y'all not have Voyager, DS9, Stargate SG-1 in Canada?

the cultural zeitgeist that was star wars prequels is hard to ignore. padme was introduced as a leader. she wasn't objectified on screen. her costumes were works of art. she was fighting for her planet and it was inspiring to a lot of girls in a time when films and tv weren't giving space for that narrative to be told.

also i would say star trek on tv was in the 90s and 00s was really sexist. even as a kid i would get frustrated that the action parts of the show weren't for the female characters and the interesting plots.

like crusher and troi only got to fight and lead teams in the later films. the actors actually speak about this a lot. troi and crusher centric stories were always gross. like troi getting impregnated without her consent. and natasha tar, like they did her so dirty. and kes in voyager would basically be on screen to give a vibe check and she would spend an episode needing to be rescued or resting. and let's talk about seven of nine? like the actor also talks about the sexism and toxicity of the show runners. even the actor who played carter had to push for her to be wearing the same clothes as the male leads.

so like, sci-fi wasn't a welcoming place for girls. you had to suffer for a bit of positive representation. like i don't know if we were watching the same shows but they weren't geared to women. they had more women on the show but like god, the story arcs were rough.

the prequels made padme an important figure. she was heavily featured on merch. i mean it seems like no big deal now but let me tell you, you could get a padme lunch box, that was pretty much unheard of for other female sci-fi characters. she had halloween costumes. the movie book adaptations had her on the dust jacket. she was on a can of pepsi. like padme was everywhere. so no, it wasn't just an age thing. she was given front stage in a major sci-fi film and she was a hero. the phantom menace got a lot of girls interested in sci-fi in a time when you had to swallow a lot of bitter pills to enjoy mainstream sci-fi if you were a woman. and this doesn't even scratch the surface of the lack of diversity in sci-fi.

[wickedpact]

god the famous footballer joe + oblivious nicky au is honestly so realistic, like if i came across like one of the british or italian or even german really famous footballers, i genuinely wouldn't have any idea. like this guy could be a top scorer, multimillionaire, having deals with various brands and all that, could've appeared on my pepsi can for all i know, and I'd have no idea who he was. literally who even knows those people outside of football fans.

no actually i just got another famous x obvious au - one is an actor in a global netflix hit, the other doesn't really follow pop culture or netflix so has no idea who the first person is. inspired by me watch la casa de papel for the first time last week and then seeing those actors each have like 10-20 millions followers on ig and a pretty big global fandoms while i had no idea who any of them were until recently.

i would be the exact same sdfghjkl. and i DEEPLY enjoy the idea of famous actor joe and nicolo 'ah yes i know of the Net Flicks' di genova meeting and joe being like 'im an actor :)' and nicky being like 'yea so is everyone else in LA lmao' and he has no idea joe has actually already made it big until he sees his face on a billboard or something and is like 'huh. that guy looks like my boyfriend.' and then he goes home and takes 1 look at joe and hes like 'THAT GUY WAS MY BOYFRIEND HOLY SHIT'

[aloftmelevar]

on august 21st, 2014, i was a 12-year-old in 7th grade who was just finding out about the hidden block/normalboots collective of game reviewers.

on august 21st, 2014, i found caddicarus - who would have a huge impact on my life for the next 4 years.

during those 4 years i had many fandom shenanigans. made some great memories, made some not-so-great memories.

i remember when he was an android fanboy. i remember when he didn't like pizza. i remember when his voice was higher and when he had the buzzcut. the stock grungy background and aesthetic. the frosty cooltext generated logo. that iconic gong noise at the beginning of the intro. when the intro didn't even have music at all - do fans these days even remember that the intro was once a heavenly chant with no music?

"🎵ay ay ay ay ay, ay ay ay ay, subscribe...🎵"

"that's how we do it in my garden!"

"CYOAR!"

i remember rushing home one day in march 2015 to watch him on PBG's minecraft hardcore. i remember when he first got his tattoos. i remember how the audience was divided over his mohawk.

many sunday afternoons were spent waiting for the new video to come out. being the young devoted fan i was, i started drinking pepsi after he said he preferred it over coke. i called it "the official drink of the beautiful people".

i remember in 2016 when he got rid of all those extra shows and made the caddicarus show weekly. and i remember when the sub count slowed around the same time. but we as the fanbase made do with what we had.

i left in late 2018 around the time he hit 600,000 subs. i left to pursue other fandom endeavors - long story short, i moved onward. 😉

in the 4 years since i've left, caddy pretty much addressed every criticism people had with his videos and he's been thriving more than he ever has. and even though his videos are no longer for me personally, i still respect him with every fiber of my being.

now, it's august 22nd, 2022. i'm 20 years old. i haven't watched a caddicarus video in god knows how long. when i think of caddicarus, the color blue still comes to mind. that shows you right there.

yet, as i sat silently in the college library, on the first day of junior year, i held my hands on my heart and teared up as i saw caddy do the same and then lie down on his side as he saw the long-awaited number show up on his screen.

i took a big sip of the pepsi sitting next to me. and even after i found out that he hates the US version of pepsi, i still drank it with pride. because it shows that the impact he and his videos made on me is still visible to this day. and also because...pepsi really is better than coke.

i am aware of what caddy thinks of the pre-2020 era. i recognize that he wasn't exactly making the videos he wanted to make and that he regrets them now. but we wouldn't be where we are today if they never existed. they still made an impact.

i remember when we never thought he'd hit 1 million subs. i remember checking socialblade and the prediction for the 1 million sub milestone was...actually pretty accurate. it projected he'd reach 1 million when i was in the middle of college. but at the time, it was still 6 years away. which is a long time in internet years.

but he's so resilient. that's 10 years of blood, sweat, and tears poured into the channel. and within those videos - no matter what he thinks of them now - are the childhood/teenhood memories of many, many people. nerdy and geeky kids who found a part of youtube that understood their nerdy and geeky interests. kids who finally felt validated after finding other people who enjoyed the same videos. kids who then had internet friends to talk about their interests with. kids who finally found their voice...and began to make videos of their own.

thank you so much jim. thank you for all you've done. you have given me and now a million other people so much happiness and joy. i hope you continue to thrive and inspire millions of people. stay beautiful. 💜💙💜

[starryevermore]

his doll: pepsi cups and parking lots (1) ✧ lee bodecker

his doll ✧ a tatted mob boss!lee bodecker series | ao3

pairing: tatted mob boss!lee bodecker x fem!reader

request: So can I pls ask if you could somehow incorporate a pepsi cup into the tatted mob!lee thing whenever you write it coz I’m it’s not like I need my sanity anyways 🥵🤗🥺 thank u 😘 - @tumblin-theworldaway​

summary: you take care of lee after he takes you on a date. 

word count: 906

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, inspired by the pepsi cup scene (some of the dialogue directly taken from the scene, but I also made it fit into this universe by changing a few things), handjob, pet name (doll) 

note: there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come.

Lee Bodecker was a powerful man, and powerful men like him get exactly what they want. So, when he asked you out on a date last week, you knew that you had no choice but to say yes. If you didn’t, he would continue going after you, relentlessly pursuing you until you eventually gave into his desires. Though, you weren’t one to complain about it. While Lee had his moments that fell into the dark side, so did you. He just didn’t know it yet. 

No, he thought you were all doe eyes and cotton candy and bubblegum. He didn’t know that your daddy taught you to shoot before you could ride a bike, that you were taken to boxing lessons as soon as you were allowed into the gym. You weren’t some timid little girl, even if that was what the entire town thought you to be. No, you were more than that. You also knew how to get what you wanted, and Lee Bodecker was exactly what you wanted. 

The two of you had just left the restaurant Lee had taken you out to. It was one of the nicest ones in town, the kind that had a dress code to even be allowed in the door. Lee had gotten you a stunning red dress to wear, hugging you in all of the right places. And he was wearing his best suit—together, you looked like a fucking power couple. 

He’d insisted on driving you himself, said he didn’t want to deal with his new driver, something about how he was too slow, too inexperienced for Lee’s taste. But you both knew that was a lie. Lee had really just wanted to get you alone to himself, drive you to an abandoned parking lot and have his way with you. 

He had a vintage car, the kind that didn’t have a center console in the way, instead having a bench seat that let you slide up next to him. His arm was thrown over the back of the seat, his hand brushing against your shoulder, pulling you tighter against him. His cock had been freed from the confines of his pants the minute he parked, standing tall, hard as a rock just for you.

A smirk stretched across his face when he saw you practically drooling at the sight of him. He grabbed at your hand and guided you to his cock, wrapping your small hand around his length. “Go ahead, doll. You can touch me.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, twisting your wrist as you stroked his cock. His hips lifted off the seat, fucking himself into your hand, groaning as you gave him a tight squeeze. If the steering wheel wasn’t so much in the way, you would’ve been ducking your head down, taking him in your mouth, suckling on that pretty red tip. But it was in the way, so you had to be satisfied in the moment with running your thumb along his slit, collecting the beads of precum that were leaking.

“When am I gonna get you in bed?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his lips, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip

“Soon, doll,” he grunted, reaching down to the paper Pepsi cup he had lying beside him, pressing it into the hand that wasn’t occupied. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ good at this. Fuckin’ made for me.”

“Yeah? You got a plan then? Know exactly how you’re gonna take me?”

“Yeah, got it all planned out,” he sighed. “Gonna take you on a coupla more dates, take you back to my place. Lead you up the stairs, nearly fuckin’ you against the wall. But I’ll wait, I’ll hold back. ‘Cause when I take you, I want you fuckin’ screamin’ into my mattress. No more parking lots, no more Pepsi cups. Just you, me, and my big ole bed.”

He moaned, loud, and you were half convinced that the entire town would able to hear him. His was close to coming, so you held the Pepsi cup close to him, ready to catch everything he had. His body rose off the seat as he came, thick white ropes coating the inside of the cup, you being careful to make sure you didn’t spill a single drop.

“That was good.” 

A sense of pride surged in you. You liked when he complimented you. Made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, like you were the only girl who knew how to treat him right. And you swore you would keep it up. You knew Lee Bodecker could take care of you, so why shouldn’t you repay the favor? It was only fair. 

“You get it all in the cup?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, peppering kisses along his jaw. “Just like you wanted, baby.”

“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ marry you,” Lee sighed, tilting your head up so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“After just one date and a handjob?” you teased.

“No, knew I’d marry you long before that, doll. Knew from the moment I first saw you,” he said. “Now you know it too.”

“Mr. Bodecker, you know you gotta ask a gal first before you start gettin’ all possessive.”

“Be mine, doll,” he said without missing a beat. “Be mine and only mine.”

“Oh, Lee, you know I already was. I decided I’d be yours from the moment I saw you.”

[sophie-i-guess13]

D.W.

Inspired by a hc that I have now lost *screeching* and a continuation of Dahlias.

“The newer generation has no idea what he’s always on about or why there’s a door upstairs that can never be opened. They don’t even know whose initials are carved in the doorframe; D.W.”

|Words: 3535|

|Characters: OC’s, Buck Merrill, Petty-ass ghost of one Dallas Winston|

|Genre: oh the agony, hurt/comfort|

|TW: Canonical Character Death, Mentions of a Gun, Referenced Suicide|

Tag! @mjmacchio1991 @apricot-colored-feathers @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato

[Circa 1980]

“It's a bar, Jessie, not Fort Knox.”

We all stand there shivering while he whines about something else I don’t have the time to care about. Cars are whipping past as on the road, radios blaring loud enough to be heard through the glass windows and warped metal machines. Just across the road, flashing fluorescent lights catch our eyes. They flicker on and off, just as they always had. Even if it’s only a Thursday night, everyone is antsy with pre-weekend jitters, waiting for the clock to strike and finally being free for the next forty-eight hours.

“This is a stupid idea,” Jessie groans again. My hands ball themselves into fists on instinct, tucked deep in the pockets of a denim jacket Mom patched up for me. She said it was her’s, back when she was a teenager runnin’ around town, but I think it suits me better. Before I can turn to Jessie and chew him out for being a coward, Daniel jumps on him for me, of all people. “We made it this far, Mathews,” he says, slapping Jess on the shoulder, “don’t go runnin’ home now.”

“The bar’s pretty much packed, Buck ain’t gonna notice us,” I say as the screeching cars finally seem to thin out, providing an obvious gap in the road separating me and my buddies from our target. “Besides, we ain’t even headed there.”

Merrill's Bar was a staple of eastside life back in the sixties- when our parents were kids. Now, it’s a seedy joint on a still seedy side of town, refusing to budge even when all the neighbouring buildings are being taken over by junkies or ripped down. Everyone in town knew about the bartender, my mom’s cousin, Buck Merrill. They all seemed to know about how he liked to mumble to himself every time something fell apart in his shitty little bar.

I can see it now from where we’re standing; the window. Everyone knew about the bedrooms hiding up the stairs, from back when it passed as a hotel. From what I can remember, I think there’s supposed to be four up there. One room is Buck’s, one’s for what you’d expect drunk people to use an empty bedroom for, and there’s another for ‘storage’.

What hides behind the fourth door has been a mystery ever since I can remember. What he hides behind the old oak door has been the cause for a million different rumours floating around the halls of Will Rodgers High, and the reason I’m starting to shiver. From nerves or the cold, who can really tell?

Jessie raises a hand, extending his fingers to the roof of the bar. “That’s the window you're talkin’ about, Dal?”

I nod silently as my teeth settle on my bottom lip, tearing the dry skin until I can taste blood. “Yeah, heard Buck talkin’ with Mom ‘bout how it ain’t closin’ right.”

--------------

I’m not really sure what I expected to see when the window popped open and Daniel pulled me inside off the slippery shingles of my uncle’s roof. Maybe some huge, embarrassing secret Buck had been keeping under wraps the last couple of years, instead of just a dirty old bedroom.

The infamous door was across the carpeted floor, with a bare mattress on a bedframe to our left and the creaky door of a closet to our right. It’s pretty dark in here, but pale light still creeps in from the hall through the gaps in the doorframe. The walls are pretty damn thin, too, thin enough that it’s a wonder no one’s broken through them yet to discover what we’ve found.

“Way to go,” Daniel scoffs from behind me, “you’ve got us riskin’ our asses for a bedroom.” Jessie’s already pulled away, heading towards the rickety old closet without a care in the world. Still, he turns back to me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes in long, shaggy bangs.

“Just lay off ‘er, alright? You do realize we’re the only kids to have ever been up here?”

Mom says back when she was growing up, Jessie’s dad was a real weird guy. Said he kept goin’ back to high school just for kicks, that he watched Mickey Mouse every Saturday, that he didn’t even go by his real name. Now, Mr. Mathews’ really mellowed out. His wife and Mom are still real good friends like they’d been for years, so it only makes sense Jess and I spend just about every day with each other.

Daniel on the other hand? He’s just a dick.

“Besides,” I say as I cross the floor and make my way to the table beside the bed, “it ain’t like anyone invited you, Curtis.”

He’s as arrogant as any twelve-year-old boy could be, thinking he’s oh so special just ‘cause his dad had to take care of his brothers when their parents died. He’s constantly goin’ on about how he’s gonna get out of Tulsa and go to college since his old man never got the chance. I’ve talked to Mr. Curtis a few times, the most recent was a few weeks ago when Mom was at work and Dad forgot to pick me up from school. He offered to give me a ride home, but I just lied and said I planned on heading over to Jessie’s instead.

The bedside table isn’t anything fancy, just a stand for a lamp and two drawers. I have to pull a little bit to open the first one, ignoring Daniel’s hand hovering over my shoulder when he tells me to be quiet. It swings open after a minute, and I’m left to face a handful of crumpled papers, a rusted Zippo lighter, and a red pocket knife.

Long story short, nothing important, and we are no closer to solving the mystery of what hides behind door number four. The drawer creeps closed, sealing itself with a heavy thud when I stand back up again and brush the hair from my eyes. “Nothin’ in here,” I mutter, momentarily distracted by Willie Nelson playing downstairs. At least it ain’t Hank Williams, I tell myself, Buck only puts him on when he’s in a mood.

Dan’s watching me from the foot of the bed when I turn around, arms crossed over his chest before his eyes shoot back down to the table. “What about the second drawer? If you wanna play detective, you gotta do it right.”

Dad always told me not to bother getting in any fights because he and Uncle Tim would settle any score for me. I appreciate it, but I don’t think either of them is gonna be much help when Tim’s on parole and Dad hasn’t returned any of my letters yet.

I don’t really mind, he says it’s hard to find some peace and quiet when he has to share a cell.

Mom, on the other hand, is a firm believer in equality. Why wait for the men in my life to settle things with Dan when I could pop him in the mouth myself? “I’ll check it later, alright? What have you even been lookin’ at?”

Our shoulders crash against each other when I move around him, facing Jessie’s back when he turns away from the closet. Over top of his band t-shirt, he’s got on a black leather jacket, hands tucked in the pockets. “Guys! How sick is this?”

It really is a cool jacket, even if it’s been hanging in the closet for God only knows how long and is heavy with dust and something else I can’t make out. Maybe… paint splattered on the side? It’s a dark patch right beside the pocket, but it’s too dark to tell. And really, who’d bother painting in a jacket like that? I know the sixties were a ‘different time’, but that just seems-

“The fuck, Jessie! Put it down!”

I can feel something crack when my shoulder collides with the peeling paint beside the window, dull white stars linger in front of my eyes as I try to regain my bearings. When my vision clears just enough, I see Daniel crouched on the other side of the room- just underneath the light switch, Jessie with his hands in the air, and a gun on the floor.

I should be scared- terrified even, of the fact that for a moment, the barrel of a gun was level with my chest. But none of that scares me now, not as bad as the voice coming up the stairs following the thump of cowboy boots on the ground.

We freeze like deer in headlights when Buck’s fist raps against the door, his voice thick with booze and fatigue. “Quit the racket, Dal,” he snaps, “not tonight, kid.”

We all wait for a moment, holding our breaths until our faces turn blue and lungs feel like they’re about to burst. Suddenly, still with his hands in the air, Jessie makes his way over to me. “Dahlia-”

“He can’t know,” I fire back, trying to ignore the throbbing in my right shoulder, “Buck doesn’t have a clue we’re here-”

It must have been some sick joke. The one day the door decides to magically open all by itself, even after all the times I’ve listened to Buck complain about not bein’ able to open it, Jess and I are standing right in his line of sight.

--------------

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just leans against the doorframe and looks around the room as if the wall had opened up revealing a secret to him. Jessie’s head bounces against mine after a minute as he whispers into my ear, “is he gonna kill us?”

“I can’t tell,” I answer honestly. Buck has always been a fun guy, all wild stories and weird jokes that don’t make a ton of sense. Now, he drags one hand down his face when his lips split in a tired smile, one hand still on the doorframe. He chuckles to himself before moving inside the room, swaying back and forth until he sits at the foot of the bed and drops his face into his hands.

“You fucking dipshit,” he laughs aloud, “I fuckin’ told you not to go carvin’ up my fuckin’ door.”

Now I understand why everyone’s convinced Buck lost something other than his tooth when he got in that fight years ago. He’s got three underage kids breaking into one of his bedrooms with a gun on the floor. And what does he do? Talks to himself. Of course, leave it to Daniel D. Curtis to be the ‘gentleman’ he was raised to be in this situation. “Mr. Merrill?” He asks cautiously, “are you alright?”

“I haven’t been in this room in fifteen years,” he admits, looking up at us as we form a line in front of him, with me sandwiched between the two boys. I can see the tear-streaks painted across his face when he wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his flannel and combs his hair through with his fingers. “The door was stuck, thought it would just be better if I left it alone,” Buck scoffs in response. He goes on for a bit longer, spewing nonsense and half-assed thoughts that don’t make a lick of sense.

“You think he’s drunk?” Dan asks me, the back of his hand brushing against mine for too long to pass for an accident. “He’s gotta be,” I mumble back. I make sure to leave out the fact that I haven’t seen Buck sober since Mom asked him to drive me to school back in the second grade. Daniel moves back to the wall before anyone can say anything, fingers reaching for the light switch he’d hidden under a moment before. “Don’t,” Buck orders gruffly, “the light hasn’t worked since- since…” the words die on his lips, and we’re left wrestling with our doubts as he gathers his thoughts.

Then, he stands up, hands resting on his belt. “Now, you three wannabe hoods are gonna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ here,” he snaps suddenly. “Where do your folks think you are?”

“I’m havin’ a sleepover at Danny’s,” Jessie answers immediately.

“I’m havin’ a sleepover at Jessie’s,” Daniel tries hesitantly.

Buck’s eyes flicker back and forth between the three of us, pupils wide in the dark before they finally land on me. “Mom thinks I’m spendin’ the night with June Randle.” I know that ain’t the answer he’s looking for when I hear him sigh and watch his eyes flicker to the empty closet behind us- and the empty hanger.

I suddenly get the feeling that Jessie really shouldn’t be wearing that jacket when Buck falls back to the bed, his mouth hanging open as my friend digs his hands back into the pockets. “There’s a switchblade in there somewhere,” Buck murmurs hoarsely, “you better give it back to your old man. He’s been waitin’ for fifteen fuckin’ years.”

I don’t take my eyes off of the man sitting in front of me, but I catch Jessie shrug the jacket off in my peripheral, something clutched in his fist. Buck takes the jacket from him, laying against his lap and tracing the splotches lazily. “You boys get on home now, before I decide to call your parents an’ let ‘em know what you’ve really been up to.”

Like the stray dogs I find in the alley, Dan and Jessie move to the door with their heads down and hands stuffed deep in their pockets. They both pause at the door when I drop down to the bare mattress beside Buck. They don’t look back at me though. Instead, they focus on the doorframe, and what I can only imagine Buck had starred at earlier. “What is it?”

“Letters,” Daniel answers. In the hallway’s light, his eyes glow bright blue. “D.W. and S…something.” Then they leave, and I’m left with a cold draft running down my back as Buck coughs and digs the heels of his hands back into his eyes.

“We were just curious,” I explain, kicking my feet back and forth as they barely rub against the carpet. “We- I didn’t think you’d get this upset, I don’t even know whose room this was-”

“I didn’t expect you to, Dally’s long gone.”

We sit there, listening to each other’s heartbeats and the flood of country music flowing from the old jukebox. I don’t know how much time passes between the two of us before I finally gather the courage to get the answer every kid in Tulsa’s been dying to hear. “Where’d Dally go?”

The jacket is tossed onto my lap when Buck stands up and heads towards the closet. “I thought hell for a while,” he spits, “but now I’m sure that ain’t the case.” He teeters back and forth on his feet, moving blankets and boxes on the top shelf until he finds what he was looking for and sits beside me once more. “That door wouldn’t budge for fifteen years, but pops right open when three assholes climb inside.” The lid of the box pops open and we’re met with wrinkled pages and faded pictures. “If there’s one thing Dally hated more than kids, it was kids goin’ through his shit.”

I feel like a little kid again, sitting in for story time at the library. Only this time, I’m in a dead kid’s bedroom.

I learned that night about a kid named Dallas Winston. He rolled into town all the way from New York after hopping a train. Why he came here was a mystery- still is, nearly two decades after his death. We flip through picture after picture, article after article about a teenage menace getting hauled off to the station and about his bail being posted.

After some time, when we near the bottom of the box, the pictures fade to a trio. One girl stuck in the middle of two boys; one in cowboy boots and the other in a leather jacket. “I told your momma Dally was no good, that he’d only get ‘er in trouble, but Syl never liked listenin’ to me anyway.”

Buck studies each picture carefully, flipping through the memories he hadn’t seen since 1965. I, on the other hand, rummage through the cut-up newspapers until one headline catches my eye. “‘Delinquent’ youths turned heroes after daring fire rescue”.

The sketches are rough and aged, but I can make out the vague shape of his face and the name printed below each of the three drawings. Johnny Cade, the infamous Dallas Winston, and the only name I sorta recognize, Ponyboy Curtis- Daniel’s uncle.

“Johnny and Ponyboy saved some kids from a church fire back in ‘sixty-five,” Buck tells me, gently pulling the article from my grip. “The roof caved in before Johnny could get out- a beam fell on him and broke his back. He died in the hospital.”

I learned that night that Dallas Winston supposedly didn’t care about anyone other than Johnny Cade, a kid too good to be stuck on the east side with parents that didn’t love him. “We had a fight before it happened,” Buck admits, tears burning in his eyes again. “God, I said so much shit I didn’t mean. It was real ugly… Ended up bein’ the last time we spoke, too.”

He told me about the murder wrap, too, and how Dally let the two kids hide in the bar before giving them the name of their hideout; Jade Mountain.

“Tried gettin’ rid of his jacket after what happened, too. Just couldn't do it, I guess.”

The pictures are scattered around us, the bloodied jacket laid across my lap when I tilt my head to the ceiling while my fingers brush through the carpet. “So Dally went an’ got himself shot all because his friend died?”

“Pretty much,” Buck coughs into his fist.

“That’s stupid.”

Grandpa Sam says it ain’t nice to speak ill of the dead, but I don’t think it counts if the dead are a selfish seventeen-year-old too stupid to realize someone loved him the way he loved Johnny- that they could still be hurting.

Buck sniffles before collecting the pictures and tucking them gently in the box again, his movements slow and chopping as the liquor finally burns him out. “Yeah, well, Dal wasn’t known for his brains, Dahlia. There ain’t much we can do about it now, anyhow.”

That’s when my hand drops on top of Buck’s and my hair falls back in front of my eyes. I don’t really care about that anymore, though, not when I have an idea bubbling in my mind. “But if you could do somethin’- say somethin’, would you?”

“Christ, Dahlia,” Buck sighs tiredly, “I was joking, honey. Dal ain’t gonna hear me beyond the fucking grave.”

“C’mon, Buck,” I groan, like a little kid asking for her millionth piggyback ride, “you said it yourself, maybe Dally was keepin’ the door shut- an’ what about the light? That can’t be a coincidence. M-maybe he’s waitin’ on an apology.”

Buck looks at me, his eyes glossy and dark brown, just like Mom’s. “I do this, an’ you let me go to bed, yeah?” When I nod, he extends his hand to mine. “Shake on it.”

We do, and the anticipation burns through my veins, itching worse than poison ivy.

Buck turns so his back leans against the foot of the bed and his forehead tips towards the ceiling while his eyes flutter shut. “I hope Johnny Cade was worth it, you selfish prick. You better know I didn’t mean a fucking word of what I said that night, either, Dallas. Y-you were never a bad kid, just a little messed up, It was never your fault, man. None of it was your fault.”

The apology tumbles over his chapped lips easier than I could’ve ever imagined; as if Buck had it written down in his memory for years. Considering he was able to keep Dallas a secret for that long, it really wouldn’t surprise me.

Slowly, his eyes creep open and his smile turns from one of pity to hurt. His hand is warm against my shoulder as he reaches for the jacket laying atop my legs and folds it in half, scanning the fabric for the bloody reminder of what he’d lost. “Don’t sweat it, kid,” he says heavily, “it was a sweet idea. Put the lid on the box, yeah? I’ll call your mom an’ let her know you’re here.”

He rises to his shaking legs and carries the jacket back to the closet- to seal off the memory for another decade or two. Before enough time has passed for me to make any sense of peace with the truth, Buck returns for the pictures, the ones that paint Dallas Winston as anything other than a merciless hood who deserved to die.

“Do you miss him?”

He takes the box from me and brushes the dust off the top, a sad smile still painted on his lips when he lowers his gaze to me once more. “A little bit more every day.”

That’s when the light turned on.

[miracleonice87]

Make You Feel My Love with Nathan MacKinnon

a Nathan MacKinnon song fic

a/n: season outcome, timing, and stats = totally fake. based on Nate’s public mentions in past interviews of seeing a sports psychologist, which is really inspiring to me. seeking professional advice is a GOOOOD thing! also, wasn’t originally intended to be a song fic, but Adele’s version of Make You Feel My Love (originally by Bob Dylan) came on while I was finishing it up, so I went with it! last note: pretending Tyson never got traded to the Leafs is the best part of writing hockey fanfiction. 🥺

summary: Angry/Sad Nate loses in the playoffs and takes his frustrations out on his girlfriend Sam, who gets comfort and advice from his teammates and friends.

warnings: swearing; isolated, individual outbursts of anger but NO physical violence; mentions of counseling/therapy and the practice of sports psychology (obviously, like I mentioned, this is a good thing but just something to know); crying Nate (I feel like that deserves a warning)

_____

Deflated, I sat in a bulky black chair in the team family room deep in the recesses of the Pepsi Center for several minutes after leaving the wives and girlfriends suite, needing a moment away from prying eyes and cameras to process what had just occurred.

The Avalanche had been one of the highly favored teams in the West all season long, yet had just been swept in the second round of the playoffs. My boyfriend, Nathan MacKinnon, widely regarded as one of the best players in the NHL, had totaled only one point in the 11 playoff games the team had played this year, earning a single assist on a Mikko Rantanen goal.

Needless to say, that hadn’t been sitting right with Nate.

He’d been short with me since the first few games of the postseason; even shorter than he typically got when he was in a drought. I had tried to give him space, but he snapped about the smallest questions I asked or requests I made of him: what he wanted for dinner, or to be sure he called to wish his sister Sarah a happy birthday. He sometimes mumbled an apology in my general direction, but more often than not, he simply left the room in a huff. I tried my best to be patient — to give him space.

It was abundantly clear that the pressure that always loomed heavy over Nathan like a thick, dark cloud had now intensified. I knew, without him ever verbalizing it, that he felt more burdened than ever before to live up to the hype — to the expectations he had for himself, and to those placed on him, either explicitly or implicitly, by the entire hockey community and the media.

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

I sat still with my head in my hands for what seemed like forever, until sweet Mel Landeskog, whom I had become so close with over the last four seasons of watching our significant others play together, came and rubbed my back gently through the custom Avs denim jacket that hung on my shoulders. I lifted my head to look at her, a sympathetic smile etched on her beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Mel offered. “I know he’s gonna be so hard on himself. But he had such a great season — he needs to be proud of that,” she reasoned. I nodded.

Mel was right. He had had a truly remarkable regular season — he had scored 95 points in 82 games after a enduring a considerable slump for much of the previous year. This year stood in stark contrast to last. He had been riding high for many weeks; that is, until playoffs hit.

I stood to wrap Mel in a hug, appreciative of her gesture of support but unwilling to reflect on Nate’s play right now. “Thank you, Mel,” I told her as I squeezed her tightly. “I’m gonna miss you so much this summer,” I added, gesturing to the car seat on the floor beside her. “And Nate and I will both miss that little one, too,” I said as I blew Linnea a kiss, making her giggle, a welcome sound after a heartbreaking display on the ice. Mel glanced down at her baby daughter, beaming.

“I know, honey. We’ll miss you too. But it won’t be long until we’re all back here together, plus we’ll see each other for a couple of these bachelorette parties and summer weddings and get-togethers, yeah?” she said with a nudge.

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. Until then, you guys be safe,” I told her. With one last hug and quick kisses to each other’s cheeks, Mel picked up Linnea in her seat and exited the room. I realized that she and I had been the last two wives or girlfriends to leave, with most of us having exchanged quiet goodbyes in the suite before making hasty escapes to the parking area to console our respective sad hockey players.

With a groan at the depressing thought, I pulled my jean jacket tighter to my torso and walked slowly out the open door.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

The locker room doors stood maybe ten yards down the hall. The usual rambunctious ruckus that so often echoed off the cinderblock walls was tonight exchanged for a thick silence. It seemed that most of the guys had already left, and those who remained were noiseless. I softly greeted a few of the familiar men who made their way out the doors, offering only a sad smile and a few words of comfort to each, knowing that they weren’t in the mood to engage. They were, however, still polite, with several of the players embracing me briefly or kissing my cheek as they left the building.

Gabe Landeskog was among the very last to leave the room, unsurprisingly, as he was ever the responsible and respectable captain. He spotted me immediately and enveloped me in his strong grasp.

“Hi, friend,” I whispered into his shoulder, worried that my voice would break. “Hi, söt flicka,” (sweet girl) he countered.

“I’m sorry, Cap,” I told him quietly. He pulled back and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Wasn’t our year,” he replied with a shrug. “As you can imagine, Nate is taking it pretty hard...” his voice trailed off. “I just want you to be prepared,” he finally added, carefully.

My stomach knotted. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear and swiftly licked my lips, feeling anxiety pool in my gut.

Gabe placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Just remember it’s not you he’s upset with. It’s himself,” he said softly. I quickly glanced up at him and nodded. “Thank you,” I choked out. “Now you better get going. You’ve got two beautiful girls waiting for you,” I told him, feigning a bright grin. He tried to mirror my expression, but fell short. It was unnatural to see such sadness in his normally joyful visage. He squeezed my upper arm.

“That I do,” Gabe agreed. “We’ll see you soon, Sam.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Bye, Cap.” He gave a solemn nod and disappeared down the hallway.

My unease only multiplied after my exchange with Gabe. I began to pace slowly in a circle. I jumped a few moments later when the door flew open with a screech, Nate emerging from behind it, a bitter, dark expression on his face.

I greeted him softly, tentatively, reaching a hand toward him.

“Nate, baby, I —“

My boyfriend brushed past me in a flash, causing a literal draft of air to hit me as he held up his hand, never even making eye contact with me as he practically stomped down the corridor.

My blood ran hot — how dare he not acknowledge my presence after I had attended how many home games, and even road games, supporting him and cheering him on, no matter what? And that was just this season — what about the three prior? Why was he shutting me out? My heart thumped against my ribcage.

“Nathan,” I called, my voice firm this time, whipping around to face his back and then fumbling with the chain of my Louis Vuitton bag as it fell from my shoulder. Discombobulated, I threaded it back over my arm clumsily and took two hurried steps in Nate’s direction, but he was already out of sight.

Just then, I noticed our close friend Tyson Barrie standing a few feet behind me. I could infer from the way he was approaching me gingerly, which was highly unlike him, that he had witnessed our exchange, or the lack thereof. I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead, his hand coming to grip my other elbow.

“Sam, sweetheart... you okay?” Tyson asked softly. Hot tears pricked my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall, blinking them back with a sniffle. My hand fell back to my side — I was shaking now.

“I knew he would be mad...” I began. “But what the fuck, Tys?” My voice wavered.

Tyson instinctively pulled my waist to his side, giving me a quick, protective kiss to the temple, before pulling away and offering me his hand.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he volunteered. With another sniff, I shook my head. “No, it’s okay, Tys. I drove, thank god,” I spat. “Besides, you’re dealing with the same disappointment. You need to go home with Em and unwind,” I insisted, smoothing one hand over his suit jacket. His head dropped and he offered a weak nod.

“I guess. But listen, if he’s still not acting right, call me, okay? You know you can come over. You’re always welcome, especially when he’s being such an ass,” Tyson said, the end of his sentence turning into a growl. We both sighed; I nodded.

“Thanks, Tys. I’ll let you know. And listen, I’m sorry... about tonight. I know it hurts,” I told him, hugging his neck with one arm. He spread his fingers over my back and gave me a squeeze before stepping back to look into my eyes.

“It’s just hockey,” he said quietly. I smiled weakly and nodded once. “Bye, Sam. See you soon,” he said, rubbing one hand over my shoulder as he turned and made his way down the hall to find Emma.

If only Nathan shared his friend’s logic and sentiment.

I dropped my head back at the thought, tears once again collecting in my eyes. I forced them closed in an attempt to stay composed. With another sigh, I slowly started toward the private parking garage where my vehicle waited.

Unsurprisingly, as I stepped through the glass door and into the garage where I spotted my Audi, the spot next to me where Nate’s Porsche had been was empty. I unlocked my car, tossed my bag and scarf into the passenger side, and slammed my door shut before giving the steering wheel two firm bangs with the palm of my hand. My body still hadn’t stopped trembling.

I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

I rested my forehead against the leather steering wheel for a moment before drawing a breath and finally backing out of my spot and exiting the garage, apprehensive of the scene I might find at the condo Nathan and I shared.

_____

I stepped through the front door tentatively, chewing on the inside of my lip. I was careful not to make a sound, walking on tiptoes to avoid clicking my heeled boots on the white tile floor. I dropped my purse onto the table in the entryway and reached to hang up my keys on the rack by the closet when I heard the distinct sound of glass — a lot of glass — shattering.

I froze.

The plans I had formulated in my head during my drive to confront Nate as soon as I arrived home suddenly seemed too unnerving to carry out.

My knees were nearly knocking together as I zipped through the living room and tucked myself behind the wet bar in one corner of the room. I hid myself in a partially-enclosed area where the wine and beer fridge stood, then felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I fumbled to answer it, not wanting to make too much noise.

Sidney Crosby, the onscreen caller ID read. I tapped the green button.

“Hello?” I was caught off guard by how frightened my own voice sounded as I answered.

“Sam, hi. Are you home?” Sid’s usually calm and collected tone was now bathed in concern.

“Hi, Sid. Yeah, I just got home. He’s, uh... it’s not good,” I said quietly, glancing at the staircase as I heard another thud upstairs, this time what sounded like a pair of shoes against Nate’s closet wall. On the other end of the call, Sid heaved a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I figured,” he said tensely. “I tried calling him thinking I might catch him on his way home and talk him down a bit, but he ignored my call. I’m sorry, Sam. Are you alright?”

I glanced down at my free hand which rested on the oak wood of the bar. I was still trembling, my fears of coming home to chaos having been realized.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I choked out, lying through my teeth. “It’s just hard to watch.”

A deep hum of understanding came from Sid’s throat. “I bet. Have you talked to him?”

I shook my head, despite the fact that Sid was nowhere nearby to see the gesture. “No,” I vocalized weakly. “He uh... he kinda... he didn’t wanna talk to me at the arena... I don’t think.” I fiddled with my promise ring on my left hand as I made the admission. It didn’t even sound like Sid was breathing on the other end of the line.

“You’re telling me he blew you off?” he asked gruffly. I could envision Sidney running a hand over his face before gripping his neat curls atop his dark hair, as he often did when frustrated. I opened my mouth to confirm, but couldn’t actually bring myself to do so, knowing what his reaction would be. I also didn’t want to confess to the commotion I had just heard upstairs, knowing that it would further upset my concerned friend, on my behalf. Instead, I let my silence do the talking.

“Goddammit, Sam,” he growled. “I’m so sorry. He’s young. He- he... I used to do this shit, too,” Sidney admitted with a quick breath. “It’s bullshit. He’s just angry with himself and he’s taking it out on you and it’s not fair. I had hoped I had set a better example about how to deal with these things when they happen... but apparently not.”

A couple of hot tears fell to my face as I responded. “This isn’t your fault, Sid.” He retorted immediately, “Well, it’s sure as hell not yours, either.”

We both sat in contemplation for several moments, neither sure of the next step to take. Then, Sid decided.

“I won’t call him again because he needs to talk to you first. But I am going to text him and urge him that he needs to let you in,” Sid insisted. “He needs to let somebody in,” he repeated. “And it needs to be you first.”

More tears were falling now, and I glanced up at the chandelier overhead and pulled my phone from my ear for a beat to try and settle myself. I wiped at my face with the bottom of my thumb.

“Okay,” I finally whispered. I hadn’t ever really cried around Sid, and while he was one of the nicest and most genuine human beings on the planet, I knew he wasn’t quite accustomed to emotional encounters like this one, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by letting him hear the sobs that were bubbling up in my chest.

“It might not feel like it right now,” Sid broached, speaking in a soothing tone reminiscent of my father’s or brother’s when trying to console me. “But you’re right where you need to be. So is he. He needs you, Sam.”

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

“Sam?” Nate suddenly called out from the balcony above me, his voice not sounding heated, but doleful instead. From where he stood upstairs, he couldn’t see me.

“Was that him?” Sid asked. “Yeah,” I said softly, somewhat in response to both men. “Good. He’s coming around. Trust me. I’ll let you go. Text me later, eh?” Sid requested, sounding slightly relieved. “Yeah, I will. Promise. Thank you. Bye,” I said hurriedly before ending the call.

“Sam?” Nate’s voice echoed off the walls once more, sounding desperate this time. My pulse quickened.

“Yeah. I’m coming,” I said softly. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, took a steadying breath, and turned to walk upstairs and face him.

By the time I arrived on the second floor only a handful of moments later, Nate was already back in our bedroom, seated in the oversized Queen Anne chair near the center of the room, elbows on his knees, chin almost to his chest. I was shocked to hear small sobs escaping his lips. He glanced in my general direction, not meeting my eyes, and cried harder.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Nate finally spoke, somewhat coarsely. My heart seemed to shatter right then, and I felt my body steel in self-defense, preparing for war.

“I can’t even believe how I treated you back there. I’m such an awful fucking human. I’m a monster. I’m so sorry,” Nate added tearfully, catching me off guard.

The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I immediately let out three sobs that seemed to have been lodged in my throat for almost an hour now and, in an instant, closed the gap between us. I dropped to my knees in front of him and laid my head in his lap, hugging his calves. Never before had we shared such an intensely emotional moment. Above me, he covered his eyes with his hands and drew shallow, gasping breaths in an unsuccessful attempt to calm himself.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he cried, not touching me of his own accord. “I’m so sorry.” I picked up my head and looked at him, urgency coursing through my veins. I needed him to come back to me.

“Nathan, baby, hey,” I coaxed, rubbing his big thigh with my hand, which looked so small in comparison. “Look at me. Please? I need you to.”

After a beat, Nate finally lifted his head from his hands, his pale skin slightly splotchy and tinted red, blue eyes shimmering behind more tears that threatened to fall.

“There’s my handsome man,” I said softly, combing my fingers through the neat hair near his ears, watching him slowly return to me.

“Hey, I want you to listen to me, okay? Tonight you’re allowed to cry it out, or punch our pillows, or run on the treadmill all night to blow off some steam. And then I’ll give you a couple more days to swallow this. But after that? We’re gonna check in with Dr. Butler, both of us, so she can give us some ways to cope with this.”

Nate’s shuddering breaths had finally started to slow as I spoke, referencing one of his most trusted allies, the Denver-based sports psychologist he had been seeing now for a few seasons to help him deal with not only hockey-related challenges and mental blocks, but also general anxiety, in order to boost his mental health. I was careful not to allow my tone to come across as if I were babying him, but instead offering comfort and, more importantly, suggesting help. “Because tonight? These last couple weeks? This can’t be it. We can’t deal with things this way. I don’t want you shutting me out, or Sid, or your family, okay? You wouldn’t let me do that — I’m not gonna let you,” I added.

Nate nodded quickly. “Absolutely, babe. I was just gonna say, as soon as I heard you on the phone downstairs, it really just hit me. I realized I needed to text her and set up an appointment,” he told me, his voice no longer shaky. “And that I needed to apologize to you,” he added softly. I nodded, and he grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet and then back down to lie in his lap. I threw my legs over one arm of the chair and settled against his chest.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to find comfort in Nate’s heartbeat for a moment, as he pressed soft kisses into my hair, before I looked around the room, assessing the damage. I noticed that his suit coat lay crumpled in the middle of his closet floor, his shoes having bounced off the wall there as I suspected, and they sat out of place atop his neatly assembled collection of footwear. Across from us, I noticed the source of the shattered glass — a shadow box display from Nate’s unforgettable rookie season hung just slightly crooked on the wall, the glass in the front completely broken out, save for the shards along the inner edge of the frame.

Nate followed my gaze to the mess and sighed. “I’m really sorry about that, Sam,” he said, shame creeping into his tone. I nodded knowingly. “What did you throw?” I asked. “That puck they gave me from the last game of the regular season. It was on my dresser when I set my wallet down and it just set me off,” he admitted sheepishly. “It was stupid.”

“Yes, it was stupid to break something that’s valuable to you, but it’s not stupid, what you’re feeling,” I told him firmly. “Besides, we’ll get a new glass panel and it’ll be good as new.” His grip around me tightened, appreciative of my response. “Thank you,” Nate whispered into my ear. I turned to kiss his lips slowly and deeply. He finally pulled back, only to murmur, “I don’t deserve you. I’m so grateful I have you.” I smoothed my thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m always going to be here for you, Nate,” I promised. He gave me one more solemn kiss.

“Listen, I’m gonna carry you into the bathroom so you don’t even get close to any shards of glass, and I’ll clean all this up while you run us a bath,” Nate told me. “I’ll join you soon. I think it’ll be good for both of us, eh?” I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he easily picked me up bridal-style and headed toward the en suite.

Things were far from perfect, but I was prepared to do everything in my power to get us as close as possible. From the change in his demeanor, I knew Nate was, too.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

Nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love