#i only really liked games as a kid if i could tackle. not because i was strong but i was round and good at holding onto key places

[mourning-again-in-america]

on a less rambly note: i want to note for the record my strong support for football, both currently and generally. may we find a way to reduce the amount of brain injuries without detracting from the utter glory of smashing into each other and dodging others trying to plow straight into you etc.

[estell-allary]

APHRODITE’S BANE

Relationship:romantic

Pairing:Clarisse La Rue x fem!aphrodite!reader

Warnings:fighting,mentions of blood,reader getting injured,swearing pls tell me if I missed any<3

A/N-this is my first time writing,also this is just a fluff about Clarisse and you loving each other AND you are like the past Aphrodite the fighter and warrior that she truly is,not this soft weakling that people preseve she is just because she is the graceful goddess of love~(it is also 00:30am and this is heavily inspired by the song Salvatore by Lana)

Shocked.That’s what you would say you (and most of camp half-blood) were when you found out that your mother-Aphrodite-claimed you,especially in the middle of capture the flag! No it’s not because you’re not pretty-hell your one of the prettiest girls in chb,but because everyone was sure you would be claimed by ares or even Athena.

Everyone had no doubts to you being one of there children because you were strong,quick witted, intelligent and understanding you also had an undying loyalty towards the ones you loved, but after you were claimed people started to relate you to your mother more-or well who your mother used to be,Aphrodite Areia.

When you were unclaimed you would hang out with the ares kids and a few other people,but there was only(not even)a hand full of people you talked to in the Aphrodite cabin-them being piper,livia,Valentina and silena

I mean you were only claimed a few weeks after you arrived at camp half-blood that being in that years game of capture the flag..that’s also when you met her.Clarisse La Rue,honestly you didn’t really think of her to be all that before the incident,sure people told you to stear clear of her because she was a bully and would not hesitate to flush your head down a toilet,but you just saw her as a normal teenager who had anger issues.

You’ve only been at camp half-blood for 3 weeks and the date of capture the flag was today,everyone has been preparing and training extra hard for a few days now and you still haven’t even found out who your godly parent is yet,tho everyone’s already assumed who they are,ares or Athena,because your a natural for sword fighting and one on one combat or because you are wise and patient-most of the time.

You were placed on the blue team with the hermes cabin until your claimed same goes with the rest of the unclaimed kids,Chiron did his speach and then the red team let out this loud monstrous war cry that made you flinch,“um Luke,is that normal”you asked in a hushed voice to the black haired boy that was standing next to you “yep,they do it every year,don’t worry you’ll get used to it”he pated you on the shoulder biding you goodbye as the blue team departed.

Stumbling through the woods trying to get to your spot was..difficult to say the least let’s just say you got lost a few times,when you finally get there you lean back against a rock,it was smooth and rough at the same time,just right.You could feel the sun levitating off of your now warm skin,this was sure to give you a light tan.

‘Catch me if you can,working on my tan Salvatore’

You heard a twig snap behind you and you quickly jumped up and grabbed your sword,turning around to see no one,“hello?..”you said confused but keeping up your fighting stance “annabeth?..Luke?” You called out knowing annabeth was close by but Luke wasn’t you were just confused…that was until you got tackled to the floor by non other then..someone? it was a boy and he smelt vile but you had no time to think about that before you panicked and slashed your sword at the side of his amour and flipped him off of you before quickly getting up and taking a step back.

He lunged up and swung at you but you quickly dodged and bolted for the woods, running,in hopes he would head for the flag instead of following you,but he didn’t..it was strange he was going after you and not the flag, “ow!shit!” You cried out as you were tackled to the floor again this time with him stabbing at your amour.

You pushed yourself backwards and kicked him in the stomach sending him back a few meters,you jumped up again and so did he this time you lunged at him stabbing at his chest but he kicked your legs out from under you and pushed you back making you fall of a small ledge and land on the small,damp rocks of the beach.

‘Dying by the hand,of a foreign man,happily’

He jumped down on to you and held his sword to your neck,he was about to open his mouth to say something but you kicked him in the shin making him fall and his sword pierce your skin,not enough to properly injure you but just enough to draw blood,he yelled out as he hit the damp rocks “ah!you bitch!”you both got up again and started clashing your swords together “why the hell are you still trying to fight me!”you grunted out.

Before he could respond you heard yelling and both the blue and red team came running out the woods the blue team with the red flag,the person holding it was annabeth but she faltered for a few seconds seeing that you were is a fight.

Then you caught her eye,for the first time you both looked at each other and gods she was gorgeous.Clarisse La Rue.

But you got distracted.“HEY!”luke yelled out as the boy stabbed with full force at your chest.

‘Calling out my name in the summer rain,ciao,amore’

You huffed out a breath,gasping for air as you grabbed the end of his sword cutting your palm and two of your fingers but kept your grip on it strong,you raised your foot and kicked the boy in the stomach making him stumble and lose his grasp on the sword.You threw the sword into the water and just as he was about to punch you,you grabbed his fist and flipped over above him landing behind him (thank god for you being able to do gymnastics)

Just as annabeth got the red flag to the post you punched him in the back making him fall on his front and he stayed down..OH GOD YOU KNOCKED HIM OUT!!

You looked up panicked and everyone was staring looking shocked at yo-..wait why were they looking above you?You looked up and gasped,

“Wha-?”

Suddenly you were tackled into a hug by silena who was laughing “oh my god” you heard annabeth say,your gaze went from Silena to Annabeth to Clarisse..she was looking at you with a puzzled expression before saying the thing that everyone was thinking, “how the fuck are you a daughter of Aphrodite?”she said your eyes grew wide before you furrowed your brows “HEY!are you calling me ugly!?”you yelled out looking offended even tho you were thinking the same thing.

“Well no bu-!”Clarisse started before she was interrupted by Chiron “Aphrodite areia..you take after your mother’s original origins from being a warrior”he said with a kind smile on his face.

“Well that’s enough for today everyone go get some rest get fixed up and carry on with your day!”Chiron declared.

A/N:sorry that there was like no Clarisse x reader in this I promise there will be way more in my next one this one was just a tester btw😃

[whetstonefires]

The reason I keep banging the Jiang Fengmian drum so hard is not that he did nothing wrong--he's definitely in contention for best parenting in this book but that bar is in the ground--but because most of the takes I see about him are so extremely bad.

If you want to slag him off for trying to make choices that would hurt no one, and winding up properly protecting no one as a result, that's valid! That's an interesting and text-based critique, which opens into his parallels with Lan Xichen!

If you want to blame him for being weirdly over-invested in Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng being bffs, that's fair, that definitely contributed to the weirdness between them. If you want to say he was a poor communicator, that he fundamentally misunderstood his son, that he failed to be emotionally available in a way his kids could get much use out of, even that he should have figured out a way to stop Yu Ziyuan from creating such a hostile environment, all of that is fair game!

If you want to tackle how the worst thing he did to his kids was die I am so interested in how Wei Wuxian went on to abandon A-Yuan by going to his death, and how that might be tied to how his primary adult role model tied him to a boat and went off to a fight he knew he was going to lose.

After his parents had already left him like that once before, presumably less intentionally.

But no, instead I keep seeing that Jiang Fengmian didn't care. That he never expressed affection. That he actively participated in Yu Ziyuan's fucky game of forcing proxy conflict onto the boys instead of constantly trying (and failing) to shut it down, or that he ignored her bad behavior because it didn't affect him, or that he fought with her constantly, or that he was too much of an unmanly coward to stand up to her when she wanted something.

All of which are directly in contradiction to every scene he's in, and several of which manage to invert or erase the actual conflicts between him and his wife that were the source of all that tension.

And which are really interesting, because some of the most intractable elements are ideological--Yu Ziyuan is fundamentally a conservative and Jiang Fengmian seems to want to be an egalitarian, which ofc matched poorly with his hereditary authority as patriarch of a large sect.

The fact that the bit where we get to actually see him failing to parent Jiang Cheng consists of him gently and firmly trying to correct Jiang Cheng's ethics when what was actually needed in that moment was reassurance for the well-founded insecurities that were causing him to be a little bitch, only for Yu Ziyuan to charge in and make everything fifty times worse, is so much more interesting than literally any version of this family dynamic I have seen in fic. It's to the point I'm relieved when writers kill Jiang Fengmian off, because it means they probably won't feel the need to character-assassinate him too badly.

The number of people I've seen come right out and say some variation of 'men can't be abused' is killing me here. No, Yu Ziyuan wanting to hurt her husband does not constitute sufficient proof that he abused her first and deserved it! That's not how anything works!

[13uswntimagines]

13 Eras of Us (Taylor Swift x Morgan!R): Era 1 - We Were Both Young When I First Saw You

Request: Taylor Swift x Alex morgan's little sister. They start off as friends and realize that there may be something more.

Chapter synopsis: 1 of 13: The era where everything begins. R and Taylor meet, and become friends. Composed of little moments between them, r and the Team and R and her sister.

Notes: Hey dudes, i'm really really stoked about this series, and i really hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.

July, 2015

We were both young when I first saw you

You sighed, gripping the rubber handles of your crutches, leaning more heavily onto the foam padding under your arms despite the ache it caused from the constant chafing. It was an annoying consequence of your injury. 

A secondary effect that the trainers hadn’t told you about when they convinced you that an Achilles tear wasn’t something you could walk off. When they swore up and down that the two other liniments in your ankle were holding on by threads and absolutely could not hold your weight for another 5 weeks. 

You still hadn’t gotten used to them, not that you really had the chance. 

They were a fairly new addition to your wardrobe, made necessary by one bad tackle only 20 minutes into your first game in Canada, effectively ruining your World Cup run (something you were still bummed about despite your team actually winning the World Cup- not that you would call yourself a World Cup Winner). 

You let out another breath, unable to stop the smile on your face as the lights shifted to highlight the woman on stage. 

She was absolutely mesmerizing in her shimmery silver dress, and it was nice to get to watch without the team lingering behind you. It was the only good thing about being injured. 

You didn’t have to go on the stage with them. 

Alas, you were lucky you got to come to the 1989 tour with the team at all. Taylor Swift had only invited the 2015 World Cup winners. 

It was one of the few benefits of being The Alex Morgan’s little sister you supposed. She sent a text and then you had been invited too. 

It strangely made you feel like a 10-year-old chasing after her and her new college friends, going to places where you just didn’t belong. But then again, you felt that way any time you spent more than an hour with your older sister since she left your sobbing form in the driveway as she headed off to Berkley. 

Things hadn’t been the same between you since, and all of her efforts just felt like a weird form of a twisted apology, even now. 

It was like you were her charity case or something, and that didn’t sit right with you. 

Still, you were grateful she had pulled the strings to get you backstage to one of your favorite singer’s shows. God knew you wouldn’t have survived well in the crowd, especially not now that you could barely stand on your own. 

“Pretty spectacular isn’t it?” 

You flinched at the voice, jerking away from the woman standing close enough to your left side to also be able to see the stage, but not too close. Just like she had been all night. 

She reached out a steadying hand as the crutches wobbled dangerously underneath you, an easy smile never leaving her features. 

You swallowed hard, trying to form words to say anything to Taylor’s mom. 

You weren’t big into fandom or social media, but you still knew who she was, and it felt weird meeting her (definitely not because you had a massive crush on her daughter- or the character her daughter pretended to be on stage). 

“She’s amazing,” You finally managed to force the words from your throat, turning back towards the flashing lights on stage and around the stadium.

Andrea hummed. “She is. You’re pretty amazing too,” 

She had heard about your… reputation but all she had seen from you tonight was a shy kid desperately searching for something. Exactly what that something was she couldn’t put her finger, but she suspected it had to do with the way you were watching your older sister interact all night. 

You shrugged, your shoulders collapsing in on you just a bit. “Right now I’m gimpy, and I couldn’t imagine having the control over an audience that she does,” 

Andrea made a low noise, thinking better than to argue with you. She didn’t know you well enough for a debate. 

She didn’t want to interrupt you any more than she had anyway. 

The way you were staring at the stage was a sight to behold, to say the least, your lip trapped between your teeth and your eyes filled with wonder. 

She had seen many fans in her days, but there was just something… different about how you watched the show. The tender adoration in your eyes was beautiful, and it made the mom in her wonder what the future would hold for you and her daughter. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as style came to an end and your sister disappeared below the stage. 

You smiled towards Andrea. “I better go before they think I tried to escape,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that something you’ve done before?” 

You shrugged again, your grin turning impish.

 “I don’t kiss and tell,” You winked as you started to maneuver yourself back towards where you knew Alex would be coming out, and Andreas' laugh sounded from behind you. 

That had been the point after all hadn't it? 

Still, you were slightly relieved when your sister stepped through the curtain that separated the stage from the backstage area. 

While Andrea and the stage managers had been as welcoming as they could be, you still hadn’t felt like you belonged. You hadn’t been the one invited after all. It also helped that you would be getting out of the noise until Taylor got off stage and was ready for the mini meet and greet the team planned. 

“How did that crowd feel?” You asked as Alex approached you, and the crowd at the front of the stage cheered again, painting an interested smile across your features. 

It felt electric from the audience, so you could only imagine what it felt like being on stage, 

“Really good,” Alex smiled widely, wiggling the trophy in her arms just a bit. “Like World Cup good,” 

“It’s insane how she can control a room like that,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You felt her slow down beside you and her eyes searched your face. “Don’t even think about it,” 

“What?” You asked, your tongue poking out of your mouth as you focused on keeping up with the team. 

“I know you and I know that look,” She said seriously.  “She’s my age, and you’re not 18 for another 10 days,” 

You shrugged. “So?” 

You hadn’t been planning on hitting on America's top superstar, but you would never miss an opportunity to mess with your older sister. Plus, you didn’t see the harm in flirting. 

It was a fundamental part of your personality after all. 

“Y/n I’m serious,” 

Your lips pulled into a playful smirk, glancing up at her as she held the door to a small room for you. “And I’m committed to not being serious,” 

It was no secret that your… extracurricular activities had picked up since your injury, and you had done little to mask your enjoyment of the league's hookup culture since you joined in lew of going to college. 

What annoyed Alex more was that no one in North Carolina would step up and help her stop you. 

“Y/n,” Alex let out a suffering sigh, catching the crutch before you could hobble away. 

“Look, she’s out of my league, and it’s criminal to not tell a gorgeous woman how gorgeous she is,” 

“Kid’s got a point,” Kelley said, appearing at your other side and sending you a small wink. “Shooting my shot is how I landed you after all,”

“That’s true baby horse,” Cheney said, grabbing a coke off of the large catering table that dominated the room. “It’s also how Toby got Chris,” 

“How did we get roped into this?” Tobin groaned, her slightly red-rimmed eyes going wide, popping a grape in her mouth. 

Kelley snorted. “You got roped into this because you asked Chris out after you beat her in the college cup, while she was still on the field,” 

“You fucking proposed to Alex after your team beat her in a shootout,” Christen snickered, shaking her head. “You literally have no room to talk,” 

You chucked at Kelley’s blush, barely noticing the new body that had entered the room and was leaning up against the doorframe next to you. 

“Sounds like the field is a very active place for you guys,” The voice said, and you snapped your head to meet the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen in your entire life. “Though your timing seems… questionable,” 

“Tay!” 

“That was an amazing show,”

“Dude, that crowd is nuts. It’s like they’re eating out of the palm of your hand,” 

Taylor smiled widely at the team, her eyes glimmering in the dressing room light. “Well thank you, it was an absolute pleasure to get to share the stage with you all tonight,” 

She pushed off of the wall, and your eyes followed her like she was a magnet. She looked so… graceful even in a pair of sweats.

“The pleasure was all ours,” Cheney grinned back at her. “it was a blast, thank you again for inviting us,”

“Anything to bring more visibility to what you guys do,” Taylor nodded, looking over the catering table and picking sparkling water from the selection. “It’s empowering to young girls everywhere,” 

You were drawn to her hands as they flexed around the bottle. To her lips as she timed her sips so she could continue her conversation with Cheney. She was so elegant. 

Even in your sexcapades, you had never been so… taken with someone. 

“This is my younger sister, Y/n,” You blinked away from Taylor and towards Alex, and back, feeling taken slightly off guard. You hadn’t realized you zoned out. 

The blonde singer nodded towards you, waving the bottle. “Hey. I’m Taylor,” 

“I’m Y/n,” Your lips quirked up, and you stuck your hand out for her to take, bringing it to your lips when she did. “And I’m your wildest dream,” 

“Very smooth,” Taylor chuckled, pulling her hand back, and you could have sworn she had a little bit of pink dusting her cheeks. 

“Smoother than a fresh jar of skippy,” You winked back, earning an ever louder giggle from the singer. 

The room erupted into laughter, and you sent a proud smirk toward your sister. 

She shook her head. “Don’t encourage her. She’s been practicing all week for this,” 

“Well I can’t practice soccer, so what did you expect?” You shrugged as much as you could over the crutches. “I need to use my talents for something,”

“I think it was amazing,” Taylor cut in, grinning. 

“See!” 

Alex rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She had obviously been outvoted. It would be a fun story to tell your future significant other anyway. 

“It’s very nice to meet you Y/n,” Taylor said, sobering. “I was happy you could make it, even if you weren’t on the squad,” 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You nodded, your dimples on full display. “Thanks for the invite,” 

“No way I would exclude one of my favorite players,” She hummed. “I was so sad when you got hurt,”

You felt heat in your cheeks, traveling up to your ears. Taylor knew who you were. She liked to watch you play. 

You swallowed hard. “I should be up and playing again within the next couple of months,”

Your PT promised you that as long as you followed the plan, you’d be back and playing by the end of the season. With the way Paul was pushing you, you knew you’d probably be back sooner. 

“Well, if you’re ever in New York let me know,” She said, pulling out her phone and opening the texting app before passing it to you. “I’d love to see a game,” 

You took the offered item, quickly typing in your number. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get you and the squad good seats,” 

She sent you one last smile before she turned back towards the team. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice to see you all again,” 

You stared at her, as she waved and left, not actually believing what had just happened. 

Your bad pickup line had gotten you The Taylor Swift’s number, and she wanted to see a game. 

*****

September, 2015

We play dumb, but we know exactly what we’re doing

You never expect Taylor to actually text you. Hell, you weren’t convinced that the phone she let you text yourself from wasn’t a business phone. 

But as it turned out, Taylor did text you. 

First, it was a simple text asking about your recovery because a commentator had mentioned it. Then the conversation between the two of you just didn’t stop. 

And you realized very quickly that you never wanted it to stop. 

You found that Taylor was up at all of the weird hours you were and that no matter what she was doing, she was never too busy to say hello. Then texting turned into hanging out when you were in New York, Florida, or California, and before you knew it, it was a regular occurrence. 

“I fucking suck at this,” You groaned, letting go of the guitar strings and flopping onto your back. “And my fingers hurt now. I’m pretty sure they’re bleeding,” 

You held them up in the air pretending to examine them for the little flecks of red you were sure you would find there. 

“No, you just haven’t practiced enough to build calluses,” Taylor said, and you could hear the eye roll in her voice. 

“I got enough of them on my feet thank you,” You muttered, looking up at her through your eyelashes and wiggling your fingers at her.  “I don’t need guitar string scars on my hands too,” 

She caught your hand, smoothing it over her palm. “Don’t be overdramatic,” 

“Me!” You exclaimed indignantly, holding your hand to your chest in mock offense. 

“Yes,”  Taylor smirked. “This isn’t soccer where you can flop about,” 

You frowned. “I don’t flop,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you, and you pouted. “Fine. I don’t flop often, and not unless it’s necessary,” 

“Whatever you say,” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sit up and I’ll help you,” 

You pouted but did as she asked, pushing yourself back to sit, crossing your legs so you could hold the guitar like she had shown you the first time you did this. 

Her lips ticked up at you, and she scooted so your knees were touching. 

“Alright so g,” She said, positioning her fingers on the string, waiting for you to copy her. 

You tried, moving each finger to the strings. “Like this?”

“Not quite,” She said, leaning forward and moving your pinky. “That one goes on the low e,” 

You nodded, trying not to blush at how close she was to you. So close that you could smell her coconut shampoo. 

“Now, strum slowly,” She said, leaning back and demonstrating. 

You did your best to copy her, slowly drawing the pick across each of the strings, but instead of making the beautiful chord she was, it made an off-key wamp. 

“I’m hopeless,” You said dramatically dropping your pick and flopping back on her fluffy carpet. “Worse than the whole Tom Sermanni debacle,” 

She sighed and took the guitar off, maneuvering so she was sitting next to you. “I didn’t know you were so easily discouraged. I thought with all the sports, you’d have some resiliency,” 

“I’m good at soccer,” You shrugged.  “My fingers aren’t long enough or sting enough for guitar,” 

“Were you good at soccer to begin with?” Taylor asked you softly. 

You scrunched your nose. The truth was that you had been playing soccer too long to remember when you started. It was always a part of your life. 

“No,” You said finally, biting your lip. “Alex absolutely destroyed me any time we practiced. She even stepped on my neck one time with her rain cleats and gave me a scar,” 

You pointed to the small dimple just below your chin. Sure it had been an accident, but it ultimately was the reason you were a midfielder instead of a forward. 

When you were young, Alex had always been better than you. More competitive, more ruthless, and she didn’t go easy on you in practice. It’s what made you such a good player. 

“But you still play?” Taylor pressed, and your eyes were drawn to how her lips formed a thin line. 

“Not as a forward,” You admitted easily.  “Mom got tired of all of the bickering,” 

Once you switched positions, you and Alex could work together instead of going head to head. It made you a lethal pair and let you both show off your talents. 

It also saved your mother’s sanity. 

“That’s not the point,” Taylor chuckled. “If you can change positions, you can play a chord on a guitar. You just need patience,”

“I wasn’t born with that,” You smirked. 

She rolled her eyes. “Try for me?” 

“Fine,” You sighed, pushing yourself to a sitting position yet again. 

It was kinda scary how easily she could bed you to her will. All she had to do was ask. 

“Put your fingers in position,” She said, leaning forward and checking to make sure they were on the right strings. “And then play each one individually,” 

You grabbed the pick from the floor beside you and very slowly brought it across the strings. All of the strings sounded right except for the pinky. 

“Press down a little harder,” She said, her tongue caught between her teeth as she reached over to help you. “And try again,” 

You did as she asked, and this time, the G chord sounded through her apartment. 

“Great job!” She cheered, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Thanks,” You cleared your throat and looked away.  “Couldn't have done it without you, literally, but um… can we be done with me playing? I think my fingers are going to fall off,” 

You turned towards her, not realizing how close you were, and nearly brushed her nose with yours. You pulled back, trying not to look at her lips, or her burning blue eyes, focusing on a very small freckle on her forehead because it felt like the safest option. 

The two of you hated a lingering breath, and the air between you felt electric. You would have sworn that her eyes flickered to your lips, just as her tongue poked out to wet her own. 

But she couldn’t be into you. 

She was America’s favorite pop star, she was a fully-fledged adult while you were still basically a kid, and most importantly, she was straight. 

“Yeah, we can do something else,” She hummed, reaching for the guitar and carefully pulling it over your head. 

“Can you play something for me?” You asked, scooping Meredith up and settling her in your lap when she nudged against your leg. 

For a cat that didn’t like being picked up and cuddled, she was very attached to you, except when you were playing the guitar. 

“Sure,” She nodded, grabbing her guitar and plucking out some chords. “Any requests?” 

You shook your head, smiling down at the cat as she kneaded her feet into your thighs and finally plopped down with a short purr. “Whatever you want,” 

“Now that’s no fun,” Her lips turned up, and her head ticked to the side and she reached over to scratch the cat's head. “Come on, what’s your dream surprise song?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and more red bled into your cheeks. “Um… I don’t suppose you have the 10-minute version of All Too Well available?”

She chuckled and shook her head, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “Unfortunately, it was a rant that I don’t currently have memorized,” 

“Hey, you asked for the dream song,” You held your hands up in defense, unable to stop yourself from laughing with her. “I think a lot of fans would agree to have that on their list,” 

She shrugged, half in agreement and half in amusement. “I just think it’s funny that it came from a line I said in an interview almost 4 years ago,” 

“Honestly, I think if a demo version of it did exist, it would have been leaked already. Some of your sleuthy fans are obsessed,” You said, your dimples popping out. “I couldn’t not ask for it,” 

She snorted “Trust me, I know. It was a good shot, and if it did exist, I’d totally play it for you. I trust you not to be secretly recording,” 

You hummed, trying not to think too hard about how she trusted you. How she would have played one of her most secret and tightly kept songs for you “But alas it does not,” 

“No, not in a playable form,” She shook her head, her blue eyes shining. “Pick a new one,”

You bit your lip, rolling through the list of songs in your head. “What about State of Grace,”

The piano version had always been one of your favorites, and you so often got the intro stuck in your head. 

“We can do that,” She smiled widely at you and began picking out the chords. “Only if you promise to sing along?”

Your nose scrunched. “You don’t want me to sing, I sound like a dying walrus, just ask Alex,” 

You knew Alex would agree, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t do music anymore. 

“Hum then,” She conceded, and you nodded. 

You could hum- just not in tune, but you didn’t have to be in tune with Taylor. 

You just had to be yourself, and you had never experienced that with anyone else. 

******

December 2015

Barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings 

That became my religion, listen

You eyed the oven warily from across the island, leaning into the cool stone countertop as Taylor flitted around you, pulling out various ingredients. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid of the oven, it was just that you were not known for being a good cook. Actually, you were known for being a very not good cook. 

You were banned from making anything in any of your sister's kitchens, and you rarely ventured to make more than Dino nuggets (which you still burned) on your own. 

As long as you didn’t touch the controls, everything should be fine. 

“You alright?” Taylor asked, setting a stick of butter on the counter next to you, her hand landing gently on your forearm. “You’re staring at the stove,” 

“Yeah,” You blinked away from the copper appliance and towards Taylor, painting an easy smile across your lips. “I’ve just never made cookies before,”

She frowned. “Never ever?” 

You shook your head, biting your lip. You didn’t want to tell her that any time your sisters had tried, it ended in charcoal (and an oven fire… twice) instead of ooey, gooey deliciousness.

“We were more of sports people than baking people,” You explained with an easy shrug. “Plus after a hard game, the precut square ones always do the trick,” 

Her nose scrunched adorably. “But they don’t sell peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the little squares,” 

“Kelley likes to bake. Jerry too. I’m not usually involved,” You answered with ease, taking the wooden spoon she passed you. “When Alex and I get together we usually get distracted trying new tactics and tricks,” 

You didn’t want to say that you were always banished from the kitchen, at least until the oven was off. 

A thoughtful look crossed her face.

This was the first time you had mentioned Alex by name and not followed it with a remark about something terrible she had done. The first time you hadn’t breezed by her existence in the greater context of the team. 

She wanted to pry, to ask why there was a strange tension between you and your older sister, but she wasn’t sure you would give her a straight answer. 

You were a master at spinning questions around (and running interviewers around in circles) when you wanted to, so the only way she would get the story was if you wanted to tell her. 

And she so desperately wanted you to want to let her into your personal life. 

 “Austin doesn’t like to cook either, but we usually chat while I get everything ready,” She said. 

“Alex and I talk better on the field,” Your head bobbed gently as you began to stir the ingredients in the bowl. “Soccer is our best communication method, and Kelley likes to feed us when we’re done,” 

She opened her mouth to ask more, to try and understand why the only place you really opened up was the field, but your phone buzzed obnoxiously on the counter. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as Emily’s contact photo popped up on your screen. 

“You can answer it,” Taylor hummed, grabbing the spoon and bowl from you and carefully measuring in more ingredients. 

You sighed. “It’s probably not important,” 

“But what if it is?” Taylor shrugged. She didn’t want you ignoring your other friends to hang out with her, even if she was slightly flattered that you always gave her your undivided attention (except when you watched movies). “Answer it,” 

“Sup loser,” Emily’s voice filled Taylor’s kitchen as your best friend’s face filled the screen, a wide smile showing off her dimples. 

You rolled your eyes. She would never let you live down how the thorns had beaten the red stars. Badly. Even if you had gotten a banger of a goal on her yourself. 

“Don’t rub it in,” You muttered, balancing the phone against a vase so you could keep stirring the batter, careful that you were the only person in the shot. “What do you want?” 

“Just figured I’d see if you’d seen the roster for January camp yet,” She hummed, shifting forward as if she was trying to see what you were doing, just as Taylor’s hands plopped a stick of butter into the bowl.  “Are you baking? Should I call the fire department?” 

You glowered at her, beginning to mix the thick batter, your tongue poking out the side of your cheek in concentration. 

You hadn’t had time to read your emails yet, not that you were worried. You just got so… distracted with Taylor. You wanted to be in the moment. You wanted to savor every second you got with the person slowly becoming your best friend. 

“No, yes, no,”  You said, eyes flickering towards Taylor and then back to the phone.“I’m supervised,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re supervised? Are you clothed?” 

Red filled your cheeks at the implication, and you did your best to ignore Taylor’s raised eyebrow. 

She had heard about your reputation, but having one of your friends bring it up right in front of her still made you blush. You didn’t want her to think that you had some endgame. That you were playing her. 

You weren’t (even if the fluttering in your chest when you were with her made you want something… more). 

You cleared your throat. “I’m with a friend Sonnett,” 

It came out more biting than you meant for it to. More defensive. 

She rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, just be safe,” 

“Fuck off,” You bit back, your teeth clacking, even as Taylor dumped the chocolate chips into the bowl. 

“I love you too Y/n,” She cackled back, unphased by your sudden moodiness. She had seen it hundreds of times before when things in the pitch didn’t go your way. “See you in a few weeks,” 

“Bye loser,” You muttered, unable to resist returning her jab. 

A devilish smirk broke across her face, and you knew you would regret trying to tease her. “Bye y/n and y/n’s friend,” 

“Bye Sonnett,” Taylor added, as you clicked the end call button, and from Emily’s furrowed eyebrows just before the screen ended, you knew she didn’t know who had said goodbye to her. 

You anxiously rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding running your hand through your hair so you didn’t have to wash them… again. “Sorry about her,” 

“She’s charming,” Taylor hummed, taking the bowl of cookie dough from in front of you. “Is she always like that?” 

“No,”  You muttered, as she carefully scooped out a bit of dough with a spoon and transferred it to a baking sheet. “She can actually be pretty sweet when she wants to be. It’s why Rosie loves her so much,” 

Taylor’s head tilted to the side as she tried to follow your train of thought. Despite how much you talked about the team, you rarely ever mentioned the relationships within it. The team was intensely private in that way, and she respected that. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious… and you had technically mentioned it first. 

“Are they dating?” 

“No,” You snorted, shaking your head. They were two blind idiots in love, terrified of messing up a friendship. “They mostly just make moon eyes at each other right now. But hopefully winning a gold will give one of them the balls to finally make a move,” 

“Like she thought you had the balls to bake naked,”

She knew there had to be a story there, but getting you to actually tell her would be a bigger challenge. 

More red colored your cheeks, traveling up to your ears.

“It would be more likely for me to be naked, than for me to be baking,” you murmured, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. “That comment was probably more about the supervision. The last time she called I was sneaking out of a girl's apartment,”

Her eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline. “And you answered?” 

It was hard to wrap her head around how commonplace your hookups were. She didn’t like how casual you and everyone around you were about them, especially since you were so young.

“She wanted to check in,” You waved a hand dismissively. “We lost pretty badly,”

She didn’t quite know how those two pieces fit together. “But she asked if you needed the fire department,” 

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I… distracted a girl one time while she was cooking,” 

Taylor swallowed her grimace. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous. Not yet anyway. 

She was your friend. 

She scooped a small bit of batter with her finger and reached out to smear it on the very tip of your nose. “Sounds pretty dangerous,” 

Your eyes crossed as you tried to see the little blob, and Taylor laughed loudly at the expression. 

“You didn’t just do that,” 

Taylor sat back, smirking at you widely. “Oh, but I did. What are you going to do about it?”

You reached across the island, grabbing a small scoop of flour. 

“This,” You said, rubbing the flour into her cheek with a grin. “It’s a little lighter than your normal highlight, but it suits you,” 

She paused for a second before reaching for the flour container, dipping her hand inside. “Oh, it’s on now,” 

She didn’t give you time to duck as she tossed a handful of flour towards you, and you caught a stick of butter still out on the counter as you dove for cover. 

More flour powdered around you in a cloud as you peeked up from your hiding space, throwing a bit of soft butter towards her. It skidded across the counter, mixing with the sugar and flour smeared across the surface. 

It almost made you feel bad, but you would help her clean it up. 

“Missed me, loser,” 

Your nose scrunched at the name, and your eyebrows furrowed. 

You would not be a loser. 

You crawled towards your left, sneaking around the island until you saw her right foot, and a smile broke across your face. 

You dove for her, catching her around the waist, sending the bag of flour flying around you as you both fell, her peels of laughter echoing across the kitchen. 

“I don’t lose,” You chuckled into her neck as flour fell around you like snow. “Flour fights and otherwise,” 

Taylor rolled off of you, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look at you. “You’ve got a little bit of flour there,” 

She gestured towards your nose, and you lifted your shirt to wipe the area she indicated. You felt the way her eyes were immediately glued to your exposed abs, and you took an extra second to wipe your face so she could look. 

Her face was red when you dropped your shirt. 

“Thanks,” You winked, and the red bled from her cheeks down her neck. 

She snorted and shook her head. “That just made it worse,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows and licked your lips for good measure. “That’s ok, I’ve gotten way dirtier anyway,” 

“You’re too much,” She said, still giggling, watching your shoulder as she sat up. “Let’s get the cookies in the oven and we can clean up while they bake,”

You pouted dramatically. “What if I want to stay dirty?” 

She rolled her eyes, already pushing herself to her feet. “You don’t get cookies,” 

You wrinkled your nose. “Bummer,”

“Come on,” She held her hand out to you, and you took it, letting her pull you up. 

She stole a hug before she let you go, directing you towards where the broom was. 

And you couldn’t help the small smile pulled across your features, both at Taylor and the sight of the cats staring safely at you from the kitchen archway.

You would tolerate baking if it was with Taylor. 

*****

March, 2016

If you’ve got a girlfriend, I’m jealous of her. But if you’re single it’s honestly worse.

You were never good at sneaking. You hadn’t even tried in high school because you knew you would be caught, and after you moved out, there was no one to sneak from. 

Your North Carolina roommate didn’t care how late you were out. She barely even spoke to you at all. 

You were pretty sure she hated you, but which of your Courage teammates didn’t? 

Maybe the newfound freedom made you wreckless, or maybe you just didn’t care about changing your behavior when you were visiting your sister in Florida. 

But whatever the case, Alex was waiting for you when you stepped back into her house, her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face. 

Part of you wondered if she had been standing there all night, or if she heard the door of your UBER shut and came down to greet you. You wondered if they turned the porch light on as soon as they got home, or if you just hadn’t noticed it when the car pulled up. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

You slowly turned towards her, kicking off your shoes, neatly placing them in the rack by the door, and pulling your sweatshirt over your head. “Out? Why?”

“It’s almost 2 am,” She grit out, her eyes flashing dangerously, but it did nothing to dissuade you. 

You shrugged, hanging your sweatshirt on the hook right next to her. “I got distracted” 

She scoffed, following you as you tried to brush past her. “You didn’t call or text, I was worried sick about you,”

You rolled your eyes. 

It wasn’t like you texted her often anyway. The two of you barely spoke as it was, nothing besides Hey how was your day messages and one-word responses on your end. 

It was weird to you that she was still trying to look after you. That she was still trying to be the protective older sister, when clearly your relationship had evolved. 

You weren’t the toddler crawling after her wherever she went, or the 4-year-old tripping over every soccer ball she passed you. 

You were a just barely adult trapped in the shadows of everyone’s expectation of you. 

“OK mom, chill out. I was just… busy,” You snarked, wiggling your fingers at her as you headed towards the kitchen. “I had my hands full,” 

She made a face at you. 

There had been a time when she was more like your mom than your mom was. A time when you were closer to her than anyone else. 

Now it felt like she barely knew you. 

“Just your hands? I thought you had more game than that,” Kelley said from the couch. 

“Trust me, I do,” You cackled, fist-bumping Kelley as you passed her, headed for the kitchen. 

“Don’t encourage her,” Alex grumbled, nudging her as they both followed after you. 

You again rolled your eyes, pulling out one of the stools at the island, settling into it, and running your hand through your wild curls. “Chill out Al, I made it here, ok?”

You didn’t like it when your hookups messed with your hair, but it seemed everyone was obsessed with it. 

“Good argument kid,” Kelley chortled, grabbing a plate of rock shaped objects from next to the stove and holding them out to you. “Cookie?” 

Your nose scrunched at the offered items, but you took one anyway, letting your shoulders relax as the tension between you and Alex mellowed. 

She had been acting as referee for the two of you for a very long time, almost as long as they had been dating, and she was an expert at this point. It helped that you would open up to her more than you ever would to Alex. 

You knew your sister and her girlfriend didn’t like your… relaxation method, but as long as your partner was into it and you were into it, you didn’t see a problem. It was better than some of the things you could be doing. 

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to stop this,” Alex muttered, sitting down at the counter beside you.

“Why?” You asked, examining the cookie. 

She laid her phone on the counter and slid it towards you, “Because the team aren’t the only people who have picked up on it now,”

You glanced down at the device. 

It was a Twitter feed of pictures of you and the girl you had just left. You reached out and scrolled, frowning when you saw all of the text tweets below it. 

@randomy/nfan: it’s unfair how ridiculously hot she is. 

@randomy/nfan2: no one needs to wipe their face that many times during a game

@randomy/nfan: Did you see how she stuck her tongue out each time she ran her hand through her hair? It should be criminal. 

@randomy/nfan3: she totally winked at me after she gave me her jersey. Too bad I wasn’t the one she took home after. 

@randomy/nfan5: can confirm she winked after she took her jersey off. She even flexed for the photo. 

@SoccerUpdates: Y/n Morgan spotted with Orlando rookie Sam Witterman after the game. 

“The fans need to mind their own fucking business,” You grumbled, sliding her phone back. “I didn’t flex for her either,”

Alex raised an eyebrow at you. “If it wasn’t for her, who was it for? Because Sam wasn’t even paying attention,”

You looked back at the cookie, using it to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. “I’m an adult and I can do whoever or whatever I want,” 

You hadn’t been flexing for the fan. You had been flexing in case your favorite singer was watching the game like she said she would be. 

It was frustrating how obsessed the media was with you sometimes. The fans didn’t know the line between who you were on the field and in interviews and who you were off the field. They didn’t understand the concept of privacy.

“You can,” Kelley agreed, ignoring the glare Alex sent her way. “But aren’t you concerned that you give a part of yourself away each time you sleep with someone?” 

Your shoulders lifted and then fell. “It’s not like I receive,” 

“What?” Kelley frowned. 

“Half the time, I don’t even take my pants off. It’s not like they notice,” You mumbled, taking a bite of the cookie and wrinkling your nose at the crumbly texture of oats and coconut. “Why is everything in your house vegan?” 

“I never pegged you as a stone top,” Kelley breathed out, shaking her head. “And my cookies are vegan because your sister is vegan and enjoys being able to eat the things I make,” 

“You just don’t like that she won’t let you kiss her when you’ve had anything that actually tastes good,” You hummed, taking another bite of the too-dry cookie. “It’s just easier,” 

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed, a warning bell sounding in the back of her mind. “Easier?”

You nodded, swallowing the sand-like texture in your mouth. “It’s hard to find clothes in the dark without waking anyone up, and that makes sneaking out more difficult,”

“You don’t even stay long enough to say goodbye?” Alex grimaced. 

“No,” You said dismissively, reaching for another cookie and taking a bite. “Then they’d have a chance to try and get me to stay,”

Alex could only stare at you, wondering where the shy kid who had been terrified to ask your high school crush out went. When had you gone from sweet and reserved to a Fuck boy who didn’t even tell the person they were sleeping with goodbye?

 “Jesus,” She scoffed, running a palm across her face. “You’re only 18, you shouldn’t be participating in hookup culture,”

“Like you weren’t when you were at Berkeley,” Kelley chuckled. “Y/n is just having her frat boy era without a frat. Let the kid live,” 

“Yeah Alex, let me live,” You intoned, copying Kelley. 

Alex glared at the side of your head, much like she did when you were young and being a brat. “Fine then. Was she good?”

You tilted your chin toward her incredulously. “You really want to hear about my hookup?”

“Well you wanted me to let you live,” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. The stance that always made younger you cower. “So tell me, was she good? Did you enjoy yourself?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, staring for a long second before shrugging and taking another bite of your cookie. “She was fine, like the others,”

“Just fine?”

“Her nails were really long, so she gorged my back,” You said, turning and pulling the collar of your shirt down so she could see the angry red marks at the top of your back. “I was worried I was going to bleed all over my shirt,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You had to be the good one to get marks like that, and the idea that you were… talented in that area almost made her want to vomit. As did the notion that your… skills probably came from… practice. 

Lots of practice.

“So you ditched us for a just fine hookup?” Kelley asked, and it made the guilt bubble in your stomach. 

That was the only good part about playing Orlando… that you got to spend time with your sister (something that was rare after she left you for Berkeley).

It was the only real hope you saw at mending the bridge that covered the crater that her departure left in your relationship. 

And you sighed, sinking on the stool, your shoulders hunching. “I didn’t think I was going to be out as late as I was. I’m sorry,”

“Ok, but why go for a hookup anyway?” Alex asked, her hand finding your back and rubbing circles. 

You took another bite of your cookie, chewing it slowly and swallowing hard. 

You weren’t sure you wanted to open up. That you wanted to accept her comfort or her touch, but pushing her away felt… cruel. 

“Paul is trading me to Chicago. He said I’m not progressing, and I don’t fit his scheme. I went out because I needed to blow off some steam. I found out right before the game,”

The words felt like lead in your mouth. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell you himself. Instead, you found out from your manager, with his comments on your performance. 

“That sucks,” Kelley reached across the island to take your hand. 

“Paul is a fucking asshole,” Alex grit out, her hand falling from your back. “You’re better off honestly,” 

There was something else in her voice that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Chicago is going to be lethal with you and Chris,” Kelley hummed, squeezing you three times, before turning towards the cabinets and pulling out a plastic bag. “These have eggs and milk. I made them for you. You deserve it.” 

You instantly dropped the cookie in your hand and reached for the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip goodness. “Why didn’t you pull these out sooner?” 

“Because you snuck into our house at 1:30 am,” Kelley shrugged, leaning on the counter. “After ditching us,” 

“I wasn’t trying to ditch you,” You mumbled, pulling a cookie out of the bag and biting into it. Your eyes slid closed as the chocolaty peanut butter played across your tongue. 

They were nearly as good as the ones Taylor had made you the last time you saw her. 

“You were just trying to get laid so you could forget your problems,” Alex finished for you, frowning. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone out from your back pocket and snapping a picture of the cookies. 

Alex sighed heavily, reaching over and brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. “I just worry about you,” 

She promised your parents and older sisters she would look after you when you decided to forgo college and join the league(even if the 2 of you weren’t as close as you once were). She didn’t think letting you sleep your way through the teams was healthy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of something deeper going on with you. 

You were always so shy growing up. Even after you told them that you were into women, you had never been so… overt with your interactions. You were so sweet with the girl you took to your senior prom, so nervous around any girl you really liked. 

She wasn’t sure when that changed. 

“I’m doing fine,” You said, taking another bite of the cookie. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t,” 

“Promise?” She asked you, more softly. 

Every time she looked at you, she would see the tiny 4-year-old running after her, telling her you were fine after you skinned your knee or elbow. Or 7-year-old you swearing you were good to go after you broke your arm surfing a too-big wave. 

“With my pinky,” 

You held your finger up for good effect, and she linked hers with yours. 

“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” Kelley hummed, sliding you a glass of milk. “Now eat up, I want to actually sleep tonight,” 

OoOoOoO

Twitter wasn’t one of Taylor’s favorite social media apps. It was a pit of anxiety-inducing posts and hateful opinions, and she genuinely made an effort to stay away. 

But after watching your soccer game, she couldn’t help herself. 

It had been a humid night in Florida (according to the commentary team). You kept lifting your shirt to wipe the sweat out of your eyes, and your curls had been wild by the end of the second half. 

The grainy stream hadn’t been clear enough for her. It hadn’t done your abs justice so Taylor had relented to the bird app. To pictures taken by people who were actually at the stadium, and things spiraled from there. 

It should have made her feel… shameful that she was scrolling through photos of you, looking for one that showed the moment you lifted your shirt and maybe when you gave your jersey away. She should feel bad that she was looking for the moment you put your abs on full display. 

But she didn't. 

She had been slightly obsessed since you sent her a bathroom mirror picture after the game the US had played against Canada, your shirt pulled up to your chin to show off the perfect impression of a cleat on your skin. And getting to see them in person in her kitchen had only made things worse.

Maybe it was slightly more than slightly…

If you didn’t want her to look, you certainly wouldn’t have sent her the picture, but still. With the parade of women that always seemed to be surrounding you, she wasn’t sure that you had really given it that much thought. 

She sighed, scrolling through the feed, pausing on a picture that had been taken of you after the game. 

She really shouldn’t be this invested in you, not when your reputation was that of a player. 

She didn’t want to be played. Not again. 

But you were different with her. You weren’t the arrogant soccer player posing for photos, or winking at fans. You were sweet and charming and it took almost no effort to make you blush. 

And… she groaned, swiping to the next picture. 

Your arm was slung low across a girl's back as you guided her into a car, a wide smirk pulling at your lips. It left nothing of your plans to the imagination, but maybe that’s why you had done it. 

You wanted to world to think you were a fuck boy. You wanted them to believe that you had an impenetrable shell. 

She rolled her eyes. 

She knew differently. 

That didn’t mean that it didn’t send jealousy through her veins when she saw the pictures, even if she didn’t really have the right to be jealous. 

She sighed again, scrolling past the pictures. 

At least she knew that you were still technically single (though that might have actually been worse). 

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she grabbed the message from the top of the screen. 

It was a picture of a bag of cookies.

Soccer Hottie: Kelley made me cookies. They weren’t as good as yours

She smiled at the screen, her jealousy melting. Though she was slightly disappointed a picture of your face hadn’t been included. 

I can make you more when you visit me

Soccer Hottie: I’d like that 😘. I’ll have to check my schedule. 

At least she got a part of you that none of your hookups did. She got to see the things you cared about. She got to see your likes and dislikes. 

That was more than any of your hookups would ever get, and that made it easier to be your friend. 

*****

June 2016

I watched from a distance as you Made life your own

“You know I hate this game,” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand and staring at the Scrabble board. 

It was the same expression you made when you stared at the stupid app Taylor made you download so you could play her, except no one was ever there to heckle you while you tried to figure out what your next move should be. 

She also didn’t rush you or set a timer so you couldn’t take all day. 

“It’s better than Monopoly,” Emily shrugged, extending her legs so her feet were resting in Rose’s lap. “Last time we played there was a fistfight,” 

Rose hummed, squeezing Emily’s foot and shifting the tiles on her little ledge. “That’s why we switched to monopoly deal,” 

Board games were a staple during the downtime at camp, and this one was no different. With Rose (and Emily by default since they started dating) as your roommate(s), you had been roped into a quick Scrabble game while you all waited for team bonding. 

She reached out and placed 4 of her pieces, forming the word Focus around your word Cracker.

You frowned. You had been planning to make the word cutter, but now your c was gone and there was no way for you to connect to Emily’s R on the other side (though you weren’t sure exactly what word she had created considering the two center letters kept flipping in your head). 

You liked Monopoly better. It didn’t make your head hurt so much. 

Plus it was one of the few games where you always kicked Alex’s ass. 

“I still think you two have an unfair advantage over me,” you muttered, puffing out your cheek and pulling out your phone. You smiled as you scrolled to a very familiar contact. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” 

“Leveling the playing field,” You shot her a wide smirk, as the ringing of the FaceTime app stopped and the little boop that meant your favorite person had answered sounded through the room. “Hey Scrabble queen,”

“Hey, what’s up?” Her lips ticked up in a smile that she only used when she was with you, and you saw an unfamiliar painting and a microphone behind her.

She must be at the studio. 

You knew she was working on an album, though you’d been reluctant to hear any spoilers. You didn’t want to hear about a new… love interest. You didn’t think you could take it, and you needed to focus if the team was going to do well at the Olympics. 

“I need your help,” You pouted at the phone, making your eyes as big and innocent as you could. “Im shitty at scrabble and I don’t want to lose to Rosie and Emily,”

Taylor rolled her eyes at you. 

“Hey! Why do you get to phone a friend!?” Emily exclaimed, reaching for the phone, and the semi-familiar voice on the other end. “Is it the person who was with you last time I called?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, shifting so she couldn’t steal your phone without looking at your tiles (thereby disqualifying her). “Because I’m dyslexic,” 

“You’re getting better actually. You got a triple word last week,” Taylor said, and your eyes darted back toward her. You hadn’t told her it was really Kelley who saw the triple word yet. “Can you show me the board and your letters please?” 

“You didn’t answer my question, is this mystery girl?” Emily cut back in, even as Rose held her foot so she didn’t try to tackle you to see who you had called. 

“She’s not a mystery,” You scrunched your nose and flipped the camera, giving Taylor a good view of the board. “She’s my friend,” 

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Then what’s her name, you know so we can call her something else?” 

“Taylor,” You answered with an easy shrug, not really thinking about it. 

You doubted they’d make the connection anyway. 

Not unless Taylor said something incriminating, and you doubted she would considering how careful she was. 

“Ok, I think I’ve got it. I’ll text you the next couple of moves,” Taylor said, looking sideways over the phone and nodding. “I’ll talk to you later, I’ve gotta go,” 

“Thank you!” You flipped the camera around and sent her a goofy smile.

“Anytime,” She mirrored your smile and blew you a little kiss. “Talk to you later babe,” 

You caught the kiss and waved, staring at the phone for a very long second even after it had gone back to your Lock Screen. 

It made your chest feel warm that even when she was busy, she answered your calls. That she always made time for you. 

“If she’s your friend, then you have one hell of a crush,” Emily said, drawing you back to the moment. 

You blinked back up at the pair, the warm feeling in your chest replaced with sudden anxiety. “What?” 

“She called you babe,” Rose supplied, her voice very soft like she was afraid to startle you. 

They all knew of your… reluctance to settle down, and she couldn’t help but feel like there was a deeper reason behind it that they were all overlooking. 

Emily snorted, not catching the hesitance in Rose's voice. “And you stared at the phone after you hung up for a solid 30 seconds,” 

Red immediately flooded your cheeks, and your hand clenched at your side. “We’re just friends,” 

Even if you enjoyed the flirting and your feelings were slowly surpassing the boundaries of friendship. She would never want someone like you. 

You were just a kid compared to her, bumbling your way through your career and fucking it up at every turn. 

Plus she was straight. 

It was too cliche for you to handle. 

“Ok,” Rose conceded, shooting Emily a very serious look to not push you more. 

It never turned out well when they pushed. 

“It’s still your turn,” Emily said, her voice also going soft, gesturing towards the scrabble board. “Let’s see how good the mystery Taylor really is,”

You hummed, pulling up the text, and ignoring the little Good luck 😜 that accompanied her instructions. 

Your tongue made its way between your teeth as you read the step-by-step text, each letter separated by a double space, and you slowly reached for the letter tiles and slid them into place, forming the word Resonate with the help of two of Emily’s words and one of Roses. 

“Ha, a quadrupole word,” You cheered, typing out a thank you text to Taylor as Emily groaned. 

Rose rolled her eyes, still smiling softly at you.“And let me guess, it’s the easiest one she sent you?” 

She hadn’t seen you this… engaged in a long time. She hadn’t seen you so… happy, not since you started playing at North Carolina, and she hadn’t seen you show more interest than a quick one-night stand. 

“Yep,” You popped the p and smiled wickedly at them. “read it and weep losers,”

“You’re only winning because of the mystery scrabble queen,” Emily pouted. “What, does she have an entire empire made of word blocks too?”

“She’s not a fucking mob boss. She’s just a friend, and I told you, it’s fair because it levels the playing field,” You shrugged, failing to mention that the butterflies Taylor sent swirling in your chest were much more than friendly. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t beaten you each time you played this game before. “Now make your move before I sic the time turtle on you and you have to draw a wicked wango card,” 

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Since when did you watch Friends? 

“Yeah! I thought you hated anything remotely scripted besides superhero movies and Indiana Jones?” Emily added, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s how you get out of literally every movie bonding night,” 

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and red bled into your cheeks. 

You hadn’t really minded the comedy eating kettle corn with Taylor in a massive pillow fort, though Meredith and Olivia pawing at your bowl while Taylor pouted at their adamant ignoral of her had made it all worth it (they had been very unhappy about the quick baths she made them take because they were covered in flour from your little food fight). 

Plus you thought that Bamboozled was probably the only game show that wouldn’t put you to sleep (you agreed with Joey that it wasn’t that complicated). 

“Friends doesn’t really have a plot,” You muttered, looking down at your phone and moving your tiles around so you didn’t have to think about your next move. “And it’s funny so it’s not so bad,” 

Rose made a low noise, poking Emily with her toes, telling her not to push.

She had a feeling that your sudden interest in the show had more to do with who you were watching it with than the comedy. And she wouldn’t be the one to meddle in what was your first real relationship. 

She wouldn’t let Emily either. 

The wrath that would meet them from all the vets and your older sister was not something she wanted to deal with. 

“Come on Sonny, make your move,”

******

July 2016

But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

2016 was the summer of the apocalypse. 

There was no other way to put it. 

You never thought a singular PK could turn your team and the rest of the world against you. But it did. 

You only got to play the last 10 minutes of the game, and your only job was to make the penalty. 

But you missed it. Badly. 

Jill made it clear before you were even back in the locker room that you would need to earn your way back. Roary had benched you as soon as you returned to Chicago. But the worst was the media, and the slew of hate that had been unleashed on you the second your foot left the ball. 

It rivaled the hate Hope was getting, and that was saying something. 

You blew out a long breath, took another swig of your lukewarm beer and slowly kicked the ball back toward the PK spot. 

One of the few benefits to Chicago was that the high school soccer field was within walking distance from your shitty apartment. The other was that the high school soccer field stayed open all night and had good lighting. 

You took another swig before gently setting the bottle next to four of its already empty friends, and setting up for the kick. It should have concerned you that the ball was slightly blurry, or that you were a bit wobbly on your feet, but it didn’t.  

Not when you so clearly saw your path to regaining your future. 

You rolled your neck, squaring your shoulders and looking from the ball to the net. You could imagine the thousands of people screaming, and the keeper jockeying in her line, waiting for you. 

You took another breath, leaning forward. You shuffled your feet, starting the countdown in your head. 

5

4

3

2

But just before you got to 1, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling your focus from the upper right corner of the net just as you fell into step for the pk. The ball connected with your foot at the wrong angle, and was sent flying into the stands instead of towards goal. 

“Fuck,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair and pulling the offending device from your back pocket. 

Blondie👱🏻‍♀️🎤: Hey, you ok? They said you weren’t on the bench, but didn’t give a reason.

You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips when you saw Taylor’s contact on your Home Screen, even if you had to squint to make out her message. 

She was one of the only people who was still talking to you after the Olympics. One of your only friends who hadn’t ditched you. 

She liked you for you, and what you did on the pitch didn’t change that. Maybe that was why you were so drawn to her. Why the hangouts had gotten more frequent? 

Maybe you just liked hanging out with her.

You took three steps back towards your drinks, plopping down and grabbing your beer. 

I’m good. Cosch bwndnwd me bdcajwe hd thihls I zuck.

You swallowed the last of the sudsy liquid as you hit send, lining it up with the others and reaching for a new one as 3 little dots appeared. 

Blondie 👱🏻‍♀️🎤: ???

You sighed, cracking the bottle open with your cleat and typing out your response. Your fingers slipped across the screen, and it took you a second to find the send button. 

Hd said I’k not aolowed badk pn the vrncn until I deserve to bd a profrsakonal spcver player abIN/

The message instantly went to read, but the three little dots didn’t appear again. 

You shrugged, taking a long sip of your beer (nearly downing the entire thing) before you placed the bottle next to its partners and began to kick a new ball toward the penalty spot, your phone dangling dangerously between your fingers. 

You let out a long breath, lining up for the shot, your eyes lifting from the fuzzy ball to the equally fuzzy net. 

But your phone buzzed in your hand before you could step into the kick. You lazily held it up to your face, clicking the accept button when you saw the FaceTime logo. 

“Whad upp T-Swizzle,” You smiled dopily at Taylor’s face as she appeared on the screen, the stadium lights glinting off of your glassy eyes. 

“Hey, are you ok? Your texts were kinda crazy,” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing with worry at your slurred speech. 

“‘M great!” You cheered, spinning in place as if to show how great you were. 

Her frown deepened. “You sound drunk?”

You rapidly shook your head. “‘M nottt,” Your voice caught on the last t, and you quietly stared at her for a long second before your dopey smile was back.  “‘M practicin’ PKs. Wanna see?” 

“No, Y/n,” She said, trying to sound stern. But it was too late, you had already flipped the camera around to face the goal. 

“Those arrr the ones I made,” You slurred, the camera shaking violently as you tried to focus on each of the balls that had made it to the back of the net. 

The camera then suddenly jerked, panning towards the bleachers. “And those arr the ones I missed. I missed a lot. I suckkkk,” 

Several balls were haphazardly strewn across a set of rusting bleachers and lying by a dilapidated fence. But what really caught Taylor’s attention was a silver and gold cardboard box and a pile of empty bottles sitting at the gate.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew that things had been difficult for you, but she never expected you to get drunk and go to a random field at night. Or to make your way through a case of beer like she was sure you had. “Y/n turn the camera around,”

It took you a second to flip the camera back around, but your now somber face met her when you finally got it. 

She tried not to think about how adorable your pout was (an expression you rarely ever used when you were sober). 

“How many beers have you had?” She asked you seriously. 

“Few?” you shrugged, squinting towards where the box was and biting your lip. “Almost gone,”

“I can see that,” She breathed out, trying to stay calm. “How big of a pack did you buy?” 

Your grin returned, and you threw your arms out wide, spinning in a circle. “The biggggest,”

“Y/n,” Taylor sighed again, waiting for you to get back in frame. “Where are you? I’m gonna send a car to pick you up,”

“No. I gotta clean up annd practice so I can play,” You said, looking away from the camera, biting your lip. “I gotta nooot suckkk,” 

“You don’t suck,” Taylor said, already pulling up her contacts. “Tell me where you are, and I will help you clean up before the car arrives,” 

The line went quiet for a long second, and she looked up to see your eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t sure if you were just trying to think, or if you were trying not to cry (it was hard to tell with how red and glassy your eyes were). 

“Y/n?”

“I don’ suck?” Your bottom lip wobbled. 

She shook her head. 

“No. You missed a shot. It happens to everyone,” She repeated your own words back to you, ones she had heard you speak hundreds of times. Ones she meant with all of her heart. “Now tell me where you are. I’m worried about you,” 

You buzzed your lips. “The high school field by my apartment,” 

“Ok,” She said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen as she scrolled through her contacts and sent a frantic text to her security. Jason would send someone to get you. Someone who would keep you safe. “I have someone coming to get you,” 

“I gotta clean up,” You poked your bottom lip out, stumbling over to the ball bag and struggling to get it open one-handed. 

“I’ll stay on the line with you while you do,” Taylor said, keeping her voice soothing, and calm, even as she sent more frantic texts to her security and assistant moving her schedule around for the next few days. “And Tony will help once he gets there,” 

You paused, from where you were sloppily gathering up balls and looked at the camera with wide eyes. “Iron man?” 

Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes or coo at the adorable expression (though she did store it away in her memory bank for later recollection). “No, not the same Tony,” 

You frowned, stumbling towards the stands and using a foot using push the balls to the bottom so you could gather them. 

You tripped as you stepped up onto the silver seating, intent on getting the stray ball you had sailed to the top of the stands. “Nashatasha wass cuter anyway,” 

“Yeah,” Taylor said slowly,her eyes scrunching as you nearly tumbled down the open side of the bleachers. “Why don’t you sit down? Tony is almost there to help you anyway. He can get the rest of the balls,”

All she needed was for you to fall out of the stands and hurt yourself. 

Your tongue poked between your teeth like you were thinking before the phone shook violently as you plopped down onto the bleachers and rested your chin on your hand. “Kay,”

She blew out a breath as you blinked lazily at her. “Don’t worry, Tony will be there soon,” 

She said the words for herself as much as she said them for you. She didn’t like the idea of you being drunk and alone on a random high school field in the middle of the night. 

She needed you to be safe, and ok. It was a protective instinct that curled around her chest in a way that it had only for one other person. 

Tony would be there soon, and they would get you back to your apartment and she would be able to breathe again. 

OoOoOoOo

“Alright, I think I’ve got her all settled,” A salt and pepper-haired man said, as he tucked your Arsenal blanket under your chin as you snorted softly on the couch. His mirror-finish aviators hung from his v-neck shirt, something more casual than anything Taylor had ever seen him wear before. 

It was a testament to how quickly he had abandoned his vacation to help her (and you by extension), and for that, she would be forever grateful. 

“Thank you, Tony,” She said softly, keeping her voice down so she didn’t wake you. “Really,” 

“It’s no problem ma’am,” He waved her off, his southern drawl calming whatever worry was still left in her chest. “I was happy to help when Jason contacted me, and Ms. Morgan is a very cooperative drunk,” 

You had been incredibly well-behaved when Tony arrived, allowing him to guide you into the back of the SUV and then giving him your apartment address and your keys with no arguments. You didn’t even complain when he basically carried you up the stairs because you were too wobbly to walk. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was on the phone with you, or if you were just too tired to fight.

“Hopefully we don’t have more of these encounters to compare it against,” Taylor said, glancing at the text from her personal assistant. “Casey texted me, my plane is ready, so I should be there fairly soon,” 

Tony made a low noise of agreement, placing a glass of water and an Advil on the coffee table next to your sleeping form, and taking a few steps back to sit on one of the stools, shifting so he could check that the three distinct dog bowls below him also had water. 

The three huskies had refused to leave your side as soon as he got you laid down on the couch. 

“I’ll stay outside her door until you arrive in case there are any issues,” Tony said, looking around your tiny apartment yet again to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he could do so that you would be comfortable when you woke up. “Would you like to stay on the line?” 

Taylor nodded. “That would be great,” 

Even though he was there, she wanted to stay too. She needed to be present in case you woke up. She didn’t want you to feel alone, especially when it seemed your team had abandoned you. 

Tony stood, plugging in your phone and setting it up on the coffee table so that Taylor had a clear view of your sleeping face. 

“I’ll be just outside the door, and my phone is on in case you need me,” He said, squatting so he could look into the camera, and send her a small smile. “I’ll see you when you get here,” 

She sent him a wave as he disappeared, leaving the two of you alone (save for the gray huskie who had wiggled under your arm and the black one who was curled up behind your head). 

She let out a long breath, watching the slow rise and fall of the edge of your Arsenal blanket. 

You looked so young in your sleep.

You were young, she had to remind herself. You were barely 19, even if you wanted to act like you were so much older. Even if you had more responsibilities and people scrutinizing you than most other people your age. 

You shifted, pulling the blanket closer to your face, one eye sleepily blinking open. 

“Tay?” 

She hummed, keeping her voice soft. “Yeah, I’m still here,” 

You shifted, wrapping your arm tighter around the gray husky in your arms. 

“Don’t ever leave,” You murmured the words into the dog's fur so softly that Taylor almost didn’t hear them. “I like you too much. Even if I don’t deserve you,” 

“I like you too,” She smiled gently at the words that sent butterflies swirling in her chest. “Go back to sleep,”

She had liked you too for a very long time, even if she was still hesitant to admit it. 

“Noooo,” You pouted, forcing your eyes further open to look at her. They were breathtakingly blue, just like your older sisters. “I like you like Alex likes Kelley, but I’m not supposed to. You’re too good,” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

Why weren’t you supposed to like her? What did you mean that she was too good? 

“And you’re straight,” You added, shifting so your nose was hiding behind the dog in your arms. 

“You can like me Y/n,” She murmured, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush your messy curls from in front of your sleepy eyes. “I like you too,”

It wouldn’t be worth it to argue with your assumption of her sexuality now anyway. You were too drunk to remember in the morning. 

Your eyes blinked open wider in an adorable doe-eyed expression. “Really?”

“Yes,” She nodded, her lips ticking up impossibly more at your adorableness. “Now sleep. I’ll see you soon,” 

You made a low noise, your eyes sliding closed as you snuggled your nose into the dog under your arm. 

She waited for your breathing to even out, (and several minutes after that) before she clicked off the call to catch her flight. She could watch your sleep for the rest of your lives, and still not get enough. 

She wondered if you were dreaming of her, or of soccer balls and shots that you didn’t miss. Or maybe you were dreaming of a world where one kick didn’t have your teammates and friends turning their backs on you. 

Maybe one day she would ask you. 

OoOoOoO

The first thing you noticed as you came into consciousness was that your mouth felt like it was full of cotton and your head felt like Ashlyn had used it as a ball during punting practice, or like Megan had used it to practice her perfect PKs.

You groaned, shifting on the couch, accidentally displacing the three dogs that had cuddled in around you at some point. 

You had no idea why you were sleeping on the couch, instead of in the king-sized bed you had purchased so the 4 of you had room. 

Come to think of it, you didn’t actually remember how you got here. 

The last thing you remembered was cracking open your 4th beer and gathering your balls so you could shoot more penalties. You didn’t exactly like how the sudsy liquid tasted, but it did an excellent job at dulling the ache in your chest that had settled as soon as you took that fucking PK. 

The ache that went ignored by your sister and your teammates who were too wrapped up in their own grief to even check on you. 

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. At least you remembered to close the blinds, and put out Advil and water for yourself? 

You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes when your apartment spun around you, and pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. 

Three cold noses nudged your skin, and you slowly worked your eyes open and reached for the tall glass. 

“I’m ok guys,” You mumbled towards the three dogs sending you worried looks and took a large sip of the still-cool water. “It’s like when I give you guys too many treats,” 

The gray huskie on your left wined, butting her head into your arm. You reached over with your free hand to scratch behind her ear. “I’m ok Art, nothing a good cup of coffee can’t fix,” 

The red dog to your left also nudged you and you rolled your eyes, setting the glass down so you could scratch his head too, and you eyed the black dog still contently cuddled into your left leg. 

He was always the most chill of the floof pack, happy to just be in your presence. 

You would be happy to stay here all day. To let them love away the empty feeling that lingered after you like a bad cough. 

You blinked as a knock sounded at your door, the levity in your chest deflating like a popped balloon. 

It was probably one of your teammates coming to scold you for not sitting in the stands at last night's game. For ditching it instead of taking your punishment.  

The knock sounded again, and you blew out a long breath as you forced yourself to your feet. “I’m coming,” 

Artemis and Apollo trailed after you, stopping by the counter like they had been trained, and Orion stayed on the couch, watching over the living room like a centennial. 

You rolled your eyes at him, running a hand through your hair again, trying to at least pretend you were presentable, as you grabbed the door handle (barely even bothered that the deadbolt wasn’t latched)

You froze when you saw a head of blond hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen instead of one of your teammates. 

“Taylor? What are you doing here?” You frowned, opening the door wider with one hand and rubbing your tired eyes with the other, hoping it would quell the dizziness that actually standing brought on. “Don’t you have a recording thing today?”

“I have a recording thing every day,” She said, stepping closer to the door. “You scared the shit out of me and I needed to come to check on you myself,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

How had you scared her? Did you call her? 

“Sorry. I don’t really remember the details of last night,” You opened the door wider, your hand lingering in your curls. “Do you wanna come in?”

Taylor nodded, stepping closer to you. “I’d like that,” 

Took a step back, looking behind you towards the dogs. 

“The gray one is Artemis and the red one is Apollo. Orion is black and probably hiding out here somewhere, he’s not a big fan of meeting new people,” You gestured towards the husky’s two waiting for their release command. “Do you want to say hello? They won’t jump, but I know you’re more of a cat person,” 

She looked over your shoulder, nodding. “Yeah,” 

You turned towards the dogs, waving across your waist. “Vale, saluda,” 

Art sniffed at you as she pushed herself up and slowly waltzed past you, Apollo close on her tail as they made their way over to Taylor. 

She tensed like she expected them to tackle her, but they didn’t. Apollo politely sniffed at the hand she had extended as Art circled her twice before nudging gently against her leg, asking to be pet. 

“They’re so well-behaved,” Taylor said softly, her fingers winding their way into the soft fur of Art’s neck. 

“Thanks,” You said, watching carefully as Apollo pressed his into Taylor’s other leg, indicating he wanted to be pet too. “They’re pretty mellow for huskies, as long as they've had their exercise,”

Art paused as Taylor’s other hand began to scratch Apollo's back, and you sighed, pointing away from the two of you. “De,”

Yes, they were well-behaved, but their relationship was also similar to the one you shared with your sister. Apollo liked to rile his older sister up, just like you loved to get a rise out of Alex. 

You didn’t think that Taylor would appreciate a play fight breaking out. 

Art sniffed at you, but did as you asked, her nails tapping as she trotted off towards the living room with Apollo at her heels. 

Maybe they would go find Orion and show him the visitor wasn’t so scary. 

“Want a drink?” You asked, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with one hand and gesturing to the small bar in your kitchen with the other. “I think I have coffee somewhere,”

It was mundane in comparison to Taylor’s full marble kitchen. Small and disheveled on all accounts. 

The linoleum blue counter had a crack running down the center and you knew that both wooden stools wobbled dangerously when they weren’t in the right spot. But Taylor didn’t complain as she followed you. 

“Coffee would be great,” She hummed, and the stools squeaked as she settled onto one and placed her bag on the other. “I think you could use some too after the night you had,”

You shrugged, turning your back on her, pulling the coffee out of the freezer, and settling up the coffee maker. “What happened last night?”

You didn’t turn to look at her, busying yourself in grabbing 2 coffee mugs and a glass and getting the milk and a carton of orange juice from the fridge. You would have offered her a glass too, but considering how often you drank directly from the carton, you didn’t think it was a good idea. 

“Well,” She drew out the word, and you felt her eyes on you as you moved through the kitchen. “I texted you because you weren’t on the bench, and you responded mostly with self-deprecating gibberish, so I called you,” 

You made a low noise in the back of your throat, grabbing your sugar jar and sliding it towards her, but not meeting her eyes. “I was probably a couple beers deep at that point,”

“Just a couple?” You could almost hear her raised eyebrows, and you finally turned to look at her, placing the coffee pot between you. 

You shrugged, smiling impishly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “A few more than a couple,”

“Try a 24-pack,” Taylor scoffed, pouring herself her own cup of coffee. “You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning,”

You set your coffee on the counter, sucking all the warmth you could from your mug, your blasé mask cracking. 

“I didn’t drink it all last night,” You said, finally meeting her eyes. “I only had like 13 left,”

She sighed, reaching out and catching your hand. “Still,” 

You paused, blowing out a very long breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you fly all the way out here and waste a day,”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the end of your sentence. The rapid turn in conversation. 

“I’m not wasting anything,” She said slowly. “You obviously needed someone and I’m happy I could be here for you,”

You grimaced. You didn’t deserve to have someone there for you. 

You were the one who fucked up the team. The one who ruined everything. 

“Hey,” Taylor squeezed your hand again, drawing your eyes back to her, like she could read your thoughts. “No time I spend with you is a waste,”

Red flooded your cheeks, up to your ears, and you tried to hide it with a sip of your too-hot coffee. 

She smiled gently at you, looking at the microwave clock behind you. “But we can talk about that later. You have to get ready for practice,” 

“I’m not going,” You scoffed, taking another sip. “There’s no point,” 

“Y/n, avoiding practice isn’t going to fix what’s happening,” She said, her voice patient.  “It’ll only make it worse,” 

A dark look crossed your features. 

“It can’t get worse,” You said, your voice too calm. Too dangerous. “I’ve already been told I won’t be fielding for the rest of the season, and Mallory Pugh has been called into camp to replace me. My soccer career is over at the ripe old age of 19,” 

Despite your efforts to hide it, she could still hear the misery in your voice. The utter defeat. 

Her head tilted to the side, and she took a strategic sip of her coffee. “I thought you didn’t lose?” 

You shook your head. “This is different,” 

You couldn’t fight the system. Not when it was so dead set on driving you out. 

If only you could be like your perfect older sister. 

“Is it though?” She asked, too nonchalantly. “Prove them wrong. Show up and shove it in their faces,” 

You sighed. You knew exactly what she was doing. You always responded better to challenges than to comfort. 

Plus if you left, you weren’t sure Taylor would be here when you returned, and you preferred spending time with her over a useless practice anyway. 

“And I’ll be waiting here for you after practice,” She added as if sensing one of the reasons for your hesitation. “We can grab some dinner and hang out. But first, you need to go kick some ass. It’ll make you feel better anyway,”

You took another long sip of your coffee, before nodding begrudging. 

She was right. Skipping practice would only make things worse, even if going would suck anyway. 

OoOoOoO

“Rough night?” Christen smirked at you, bumping your shoulder as you jogged onto the practice field, fixing your practice jersey. 

You shrugged, sending the striker a half smile. “Something like that,”

She caught the collar of your practice jersey, peeking at the skin underneath it. “I don’t see any hickeys so it couldn’t have been too bad,” 

You batted her hand away, unable to stop the smile that accompanied your rolled eyes. “I don’t have any. I didn’t hook up last night,”

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

It was rare you skipped a team thing unless it was for a girl, even when you weren’t on the bench. She knew that you had been bedhopping more to cope with the loss at the Olympics and the tenuous situation with both the national team and Chicago that you found yourself in. 

She supposed it was a way for you to distract yourself, even if she didn’t think it was what was best for you. 

“Roary was pissed you weren’t at the game,” She said instead of pushing. You were an adult, and what you did off the field was really none of her business. 

“I know,” You mumbled, stepping into line behind Huerta, scratching the back of your neck, a strange look crossing your face. “I already had a meeting with him. It’s why I missed activation,” 

Christen frowned. “He wasn’t too hard on you, was he?” 

He had a reputation for being… abrasive, and Christen was aware of how many times he had been so with you. 

You shrugged again. It wasn’t like Christen could do something about how awful he was. Plus you knew Christen would report anything you said right back to Alex. 

“No more than usual,” You said, sounding uninterested.  “We actually talked about how I’ve improved since coming back from Rio,” 

While he had assigned you 8 laps after practice, overall the meeting hadn’t gone as badly as you feared. Considering how awful the Red Stars were performing with you not even allowed on the bench, you shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was sticking you back in the starting 11 for the midweek game. 

So despite his critique of your personality and playing style, he had conceded that Chicago scored more when you were on the field to service Christen. You would take it as a win. 

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed, not quite believing you. “That’s good I guess,” 

You made a low noise, watching Sofia run the drill so you knew what was happening. 

It was a simple give-and-go with the midfielders, and a shot on goal. 

It would be easy. 

And frankly, it was easy. 

Your fingers wiggled as you watched Sofia launch the ball just over the crossbar, waiting for the goalkeepers to swap so the striking coach would send you the ball. 

You let yourself sink into the drill, and just as he passed you the ball, it was like your brain turned off. You easily tapped it to Colaprico, skirting around Krueger and turning just in time to receive the through ball the midfielder sent back. 

It only took a little flick of your heel to get past Naeher, and send the ball into the back of the net, and head to the back of the other line with little fanfare. 

“Nice shot,” JJ reached out her hand for a low five as you passed her, and you tilted your chin at her as you passed, a smile playing on your lips. 

Taylor had been right, playing did make you feel better. 

And you didn’t have to think about the butterflies her presence sent flying in your stomach. 

“Maybe you have the Morgan gene after all,” Roary said gruffly, stepping onto the practice pitch, his hand landing heavily on your shoulder.

Your back went straight and the hint of a smile slid off your face. 

“I might be able to make an acceptable attacking midfielder of you yet,” He continued, oblivious to how rigid your posture was. 

Christen cleared her throat, casually stepping between the two of you and forcing him to let go. “That was a really good goal. I bet you and Al could make that work for the national team too,”

“Hm,” You made a low noise of agreement, looking away from her. 

You didn’t want to say that with your reputation, you doubted you would ever get a call up again. You were pretty sure Jill already blacklisted you anyway.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Roary chuckled, and his hand found your shoulder again, squeezing tightly. “A few extra film sessions could help,” 

A shiver ran down your spine. You hated film sessions, especially with Roary, but you nodded anyway. 

It wasn’t like you had a choice. Roary always got what he wanted.

He squeezed your shoulder one more time before heading off to harass someone else, but you knew he would be back. You were one of his favorite targets. 

“You know you don’t have to do sessions with him,” Christen said when he was out of earshot, and you looked away. 

She could never understand that you couldn’t say no to him. That your precariousness with both the Red Stars and the USWNT meant that you couldn’t piss off a coach. It meant that you were at his mercy, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

“He’s an asshole, but he has some good insights,” You said, watching as JJ ran the opposite side of the drill with Huerta. 

Christen used a finger under your chin to force you to look back at her. “That’s not what I asked you,” 

“I know Chris,” You said with too much force, jerking away from her. “I can handle Dames. Right now, I need all the help I can get to show Jill that I deserve my fucking spot. If he wants to help, then so be it,” 

She paused, her hand still hovering in the air where your chin had been. 

“Ok,” She said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing while she tried to decipher your overreaction. “I just wanted to make sure,” 

You swallowed hard, moving up in line. “I know. Sorry, I snapped. I was up late,”

Her lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “Ah yes, you got fucked to get over how Roary fucked you out of your starting spot,”

You threw your head back and groaned, red coloring your cheeks as the line around you erupted in giggles. 

You would never outlive your… reputation, but that was ok because at least it stopped Christen from asking too many questions. Questions that would make their way back to your sister.

They would never believe that the girl who had distracted you wasn’t one you were currently sleeping with anyway. 

“Morgan, you’re up,” The striking coach said, his voice sobering your teammates. “Let’s see if you can do the other half of the drill as well as you did the first,” 

You easily stopped the ball he passed your way, winking towards McCaffrey. “I’ll do better. There’s a reason I’m a midfielder after all,” 

You would have to thank Taylor for making you practice. She was right, it did make you feel better, and you were on your way to proving why you were one of the best in the world.

OoOoOoO

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burrito before,” You said, biting into your chicken and queso concoction. 

It had been an easy decision to grab Chipotle after practice, one you hadn’t really thought about until the text came through that Taylor didn’t know what to order. 

That she had never been to one of your favorite post-practice restaurants. 

“I’ve just never gotten around to it. They’re not common in Nashville,” She hummed, delicately biting into her own streak and bean creation. “How was practice,” 

You scrunched your nose but decided that pointing out that Chipotle was a national chain (and that you and Emily had eaten at one when you played Australia in Nashville) wasn’t worth it. You felt like there was something… off about her relationship with food, but you didn’t know if you were close enough to be able to bring it up. 

You honestly didn’t know if you were just friends, because the way she looked at you felt like you were edging on something more. 

“Fine,” Your shoulder lifted and fell as you took another bite and swallowed. You grabbed a chip from your bag, shoving it in the top of your burrito. “Apparently I’m starting tomorrow,”

Taylor frowned. “That feels like quite the jump from being left off the roster,” 

She wasn’t entirely sure how the whole selection process worked for roster and starting lineups (despite her recent research into the topic), but it felt very weird for you to go from essentially not on the team to one of the people who would carry it through the game. 

You made a low sound of agreement, swallowing. “I have a feeling it was ownership’s call,” 

Taylor raised an eyebrow at you, clearly asking for a more comprehensive explanation. 

“We lost like 6-0,” You explained. “And our media guy said that the attendance dropped by 40% because I wasn’t on the bench,” 

It was one of the few concessions that Roary made. The team hadn’t been able to break through North Carolina’s midfield without your creativity or ability to draw defenders. They hadn’t been able to supply the forwards or stop the line-breaking balls Zerboni kept sending through, and ultimately it led to a complete creaming of your team. 

They needed you on the field, no matter how loath he was to admit it. That’s why you assumed Armin had overridden the coach's judgment. 

The team brought in less money when they lost. 

Taylor nodded in understanding and the two of you lapsed into silence, slowly munching on your respective burritos. 

“I can’t believe you have a game 2 days apart,” She said after a few minutes. “Doesn’t seem to leave you a lot of time to recover,”

You tilted your head. “The league wants to squeeze in as many matches as they can before the international break,”

“That seems reasonable,” Taylor said, seemingly agreeing with you. 

It didn’t, but the league (and the owners) weren’t really concerned with your health. You were basically a trading card designed to bring them more money. 

You played with the foil around your burrito, biting your lip. “I um… I have an extra pass if you want to come watch,” 

She paused, her grin dipping into a frown. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Going out somewhere isn’t always easy,”

Not that she was sure anyone even knew she was in Chicago. So far, there hadn’t been any talk on social media of her impromptu trip, and she had no intention of that changing. 

She didn’t need the space in front of your apartment becoming a circus. Not with the horrible things the press had been saying about her. 

“The seat is in a box, so no one would see you if you decided you wanted to go, and you can use the player’s entrance,” You explained, trying to seem like you didn’t care what her answer would be. Trying to pretend like you wouldn’t care if she decided not to one. “No cameras are allowed in the tunnels,”

Her lips pressed very tightly together, seemingly seeing through your facade. “I just don’t want to take away from your game,” 

“You can’t distract from the match,” You shrugged. “There will already be crazy speculation because I’m on the roster, and the Camp call-ups haven’t been made public yet,” 

She hummed. She knew that the media that you dealt with was different, but still vicious nonetheless. 

Instead of picking apart your outfit choice or your performances on stage, they tore apart your play. They ripped your soccer skills apart and compared you to your sister at every turn. 

“I think it’s horrible that they’re focusing so much on one play,” 

It was still difficult for her to wrap her head around how a singular moment had seemingly derailed your entire career, but then again a single misconstrued phone call had derailed hers. 

You shrugged. It was nothing when compared to what Taylor was dealing with. “At least they’re attacking me for something I actually did. I ended my soccer career with a single kick. You’re being punished for a man’s lies,”

Taylor nodded slowly, taking another bite of her burrito. 

She didn’t think either circumstance was fair, but that was the position that you were both in. You were trapped by your coaches and she was trapped by perception. 

The only thing either of you could do was control the things you could, and enjoy the ride. Everything would even out eventually. 

“I’ll come to your game,” She said, not just because she knew it would make you happy, but also because she wasn’t ready to leave yet, and going to the game would mean spending more time with you. 

Plus, there was no way she would miss seeing you so in your element in person. Not when it was so ridiculously attractive on screen. 

Your whole face lit up. “Really?”

She couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, it should be fun,” 

Even if the paparazzi got wind of it, seeing you look so happy for the first time since you returned from Brazil would make it worth it. 

“It’ll be great. I’ll even make sure to score for you,” You said, wiggling excitedly as you cleaned up your burrito wrapper and held the bag up for her as Art and Apollo both sniffed at it (she was shocked they hadn’t even begged for scraps earlier). 

“If you do, you’ve gotta do the backflip celebration,” She chucked, tossing the aluminum wrapped from her burrito into the bag. “That one’s my favorite,” 

You paused, your grin morphing into a mischievous smirk at the mention of your very famous goal celebration. 

“For sure,” You said with your signature wink, and Taylor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I’ll do a double if I get a hat trick, just for you,” 

It took a second for her peels of laughter to dissolve into shorter giggles and for her to catch her breath. It was so strange to have the look you always sent fans directed at her. The look she was sure had landed you most of your famous hookups. 

Though it kind of melted her heart that you only used it on her in a comedic sense. That it shifted back to the look she liked to think you saved just for her as soon as her giggles filled the air. 

“Do you want to watch something before dinner?” You asked, sobering and shifting awkwardly on the couch. “The pups and I thought a pillow fort would be cool,” 

Taylor hummed, leaning her chin on her hand. “I think that sounds incredible,” 

The little fist pump you gave was adorable, as was the way the dogs hopped around you, and in that moment she knew. 

When she looked back on this moment, it would be the one she would point to as the moment she knew she was in love. 

OoOoOoO

Taylor had been to a lot of places in her life. She had played down the road from Seat Geek Stadium in Chicago many times. 

But she had never gotten to see this side of the city. 

She had never gotten to be normal and watch a game without hordes of people screaming for her attention. She hadn’t even needed to use the special player entrance. The stadium attendants had escorted them to the box with zero fanfare, and she felt safe sitting in the open area of the box with the promise that the cameras rarely panned it. 

She didn’t even regret not bringing extra security like she thought she would. 

Her heart also fluttered each time you glanced up at the box, smiling impossibly wider each time she waved.  

It was like the little lanyard pass you had given her (and Tony) was an invisibility cloak.

It was an addictive feeling to be so… free. To be hidden to the rest of the world but so visible to you. 

“She’s really on fire tonight,” Tony said, glancing over at the game clock. 

You had only been on the field for 15 minutes, and you had already scored twice. 

“She’s got a lot to prove,” Taylor hummed, leaning forward in her seat as you slotted another better ball between the two opposing team’s defenders. “This is the first time she’s gotten to play since the Olympics,” 

You had already told her that you probably wouldn’t get to play the full first half anyway. Your coach was stuck on the penalty you took in Brazil just like the rest of the world was, even if Taylor didn’t see a point in basing your playtime off of it. 

That meant you had limited minutes to prove to them that you deserved to be on the pitch. To make them regret not starting you in other games, 

Tony’s head tilted as number 23 played a quick pass back to you and the ball buried itself into the back of the net with just the tap of your toes for your 3rd goal of the evening. 

It looked easy. Fluid. Even when he knew it was anything but. 

You smiled as the crowd went absolutely wild, tipping an invisible hat towards the bench. 

“I think it has more to do with who’s here,” Tony countered, gesturing towards where you winking towards the player's box was replaying on the Jumbotron. 

She shrugged, ignoring the slight red creeping up her cheeks and his sideways glance. “The team has so much more energy when she’s on the field,” 

Even as the teams got ready to reset, you bounced on your toes, twisting your hips in a way that reminded her of the shake it off dance  and saying words Taylor couldn’t hear to your teammates. Words she was sure were organizing your offense. Words she knew would help you continue to shred your former team, even if she herself wouldn’t understand them (watching a game with you had been like listening to a foreign language as you yelled at the screen, unwilling to translate until it was over). 

“She’s the focal point of their offense,” Tony agreed, deciding not to comment further on Taylor’s blush. “But tonight she’s playing more flashy than she normally plays,” 

Taylor hummed. He was right. 

From what she had seen, you were not generally a selfish player. You liked to serve balls on a platter to make your team look good. You liked to pull defenders and set your strikers up. 

Tonight you hadn’t done that. 

Tonight you had taken the chances for yourself, putting them in the back of the net and making sure the league knew exactly what you were capable of. You wanted to show them how dangerous you could be. 

“She’s proving a point,” Taylor reiterated. 

“I don’t disagree,” Tony said as you slotted a very nice through pass past the first defender, and the second just barely poked it out for a corner kick. You glanced up towards the box as you took your position, a little smirk on your face. “I’m just not sold that she’s only proving a point to the coaching staff, her teammates and the reporters,” 

Taylor’s head tilted. 

It was true that while you didn’t play flashy, you did like to tease the fans (and whoever had caught your eye that week). You knew their obsession with you, and you never missed an opportunity to play it up. 

But this felt different. 

You hadn’t been winking at anyone on the field, or in the stands. The only place you kept looking was over towards the coaching staff and up at her. 

“She doesn’t have anything to prove to me,” She said, sitting back in her chair as your header landed in the keeper's hands. 

Tony smirked. “I know that and you know that,” 

Taylor made a low noise, her eyes flitting to the sideline where the 4th official was getting ready with the sub-board. “I think she knows that too,”

You trudged to the sideline when your number came up, using your jersey to wipe your mouth (flashing your abs to the crowd) and glancing up at the clock. 

Taylor followed your eyes, frowning at the large 25 on the screen. 

It was stupid to take you off when you were playing so well, and the booing from the crowd echoed her sentiment. The fans were about as happy as you looked about coming off, even if it was already expected. 

You ignored your replacement and brushed off the coach's hand, glaring at him as you took the pinny from one of the equipment managers. 

There was an odd friction between you and the man, one that brought out a fierceness and an anger that countered your normally sunny personality. But then again, your personality was much different when you were on the field anyway. 

There was a confidence and swagger about you that made butterflies erupt in her stomach. That made her want you in a way that should make her feel uncomfortable. 

But even now, the way you signed autographs for the fans behind the bench reminded her that you were still you. You were still the sweet and shy, not the cocky character you played on the field (even if she was rather sexy). 

This version of you was the one that melted her heart. 

“She might know that, but I think she wants to impress you anyway,” Tony said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s cute,” 

Taylor raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the warmth that moved from her cheeks up to her ears. “Shut up,” 

He chuckled, settling back in his seat, ready for the rest of the game (even if it had considerably slowed down now that you weren’t playing). He had a feeling that he would get to witness many more of your interactions in the future and that he would get to see your insane footwork on the field again if the look on Taylor’s face was anything to go by. 

Getting to see the two of you actually interact together had to be just as adorable, and he was looking forward to it. 

OoOoOoO

You sighed, leaning back on the couch, scratching Orion’s head where he rested it in your lap, just above your air therapy boots, and changing the channel for the 30th time. 

You weren’t actually watching the television, but you thought that some background noise would help alleviate the odd emptiness that had overtaken your apartment. It was quiet in a way you hadn’t expected now that Taylor (and Tony) were gone, and it made you feel like there was a little piece of you missing. 

Post-game recovery was always your least favorite part of the process. It always gave you too much time to think and to worry. To dissect every movement you made on the field. 

But now it also gave you too much time to miss Taylor. 

You understood why she had to leave after a quick congratulations after the game. You knew she was busy and that she needed to be in New York to record. 

That didn’t mean that a part of you didn’t wish she had stayed. 

You shook your head, shifting on the couch (much to Orion's annoyance). 

You weren’t supposed to get attached to Taylor. To people in general, really. 

Experience taught you that they would all leave eventually, no matter what they said or how much they promised you they wouldn’t. 

Your parents forgot about your existence when Alex started getting called up to the U20 team. Alex left you for college and was too wrapped up in her new life to remember you existed either. Your friends all left when they realized that you weren’t worth the effort.

 And Taylor…

She would leave too when she found out about the feelings you harbored for her. 

She would write a song about how you ruined your friendship because you were too selfish to accept that she would never feel like you did. Even if she didn’t, she would leave once she saw how fucked up you really were. 

Still, the little voice in your brain fixated on the chemistry between the two of you. On the moments where you caught her staring at your abs during the game, or how you would swear she was staring at your lips when you met her in the tunnel afterward. 

But she couldn’t like you that way, and if she did it was something more than a sexual curiosity. 

You blew out another breath. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t crossed that line with your friends before, you had, but you didn’t want it to be like that with Taylor. You didn’t want her to be a fuck buddy or a one night stand that she would regret later. 

You couldn’t cross that line without her leaving you, but you weren’t even sure if there was a line to cross. Hell, you had never had a real relationship so you weren’t even sure if you had already crossed it. 

Did friends do the things you and Taylor did? Did friends fly cross country to help? Did they cuddle in pillow forts? 

You were just… lost. 

You had never felt so… attached before. 

You let your head fall back on the couch with a low thump. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t call the person you normally would (Kelley) because she would tell Alex. 

You grabbed your phone from the edge of the couch, scrolling through your contacts until you found one of the few who weren’t ignoring you for missing the PK. One of the few who you trusted (even if you would get the shit teased out of you). 

You paused, your finger hovering over Emily’s picture. 

She would know what to do. She always knew what to do. 

It took you another second to gain the courage to actually press the call button, and you worried your bottom lip as it started to ring. 

She was definitely going to make fun of you. 

“I need your help,” You said as soon as Emily’s face appeared on the screen. 

“Hello Emily, how are you? I’m fine, thank you so much for asking,” 

“Emily,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, but she just raised her eyebrows expectantly in response. Your shoulders sank. “Hello Emily, how are you?” 

“I’m doing great,” She smiled cheekily back at you. “Now what’s up?”

You ran a hand through your hair, rubbing over the short curls at the back of your neck, trying to mask how nervous you were. 

“I..-“ You stuttered, looking away. “There’s a girl, and I like her, but I have no clue what’s happening or what’s supposed to happen next,” 

She squinted at you. “Are you dating this girl?”

“No,” You breathed out, dragging your hand from your hair to press into your forehead. “I don’t think so. She’s my friend. She’s straight, but there’s all this weird tension, and I’m not sure if she would ever want to date me. I doubt it, cause like I said she’s straight. But she’s really really pretty and we cuddle and I like her a lot but i-“ 

“Y/n,” Emily said, cutting you off mid-ramble, a playful smile pulling at her lips. 

You blinked at her. “Yeah?”

“Let’s just start at the beginning,” She leaned forward, towards the phone, accentuating each syllable. “And talk at a pace where I can actually understand you,” 

“I…I got drunk and missed a game,” You swallowed down your blush and looked away from her raised eyebrow.  “She flew to Chicago to see me because she was worried, and I bought her her first burrito-,” 

“She’s never had a burrito before? What kind of person hasn’t had a burrito?” Emily snorted, and you felt the tension in your chest relax a little. 

You shrugged. “She said she never had one before. She liked it a lot,”

Emily’s head tilted in question, but she waved her hand. “Ok, carry on with your story,” 

You swallowed hard, focusing on how your fingers dug into the spot at the back of your neck“She came to check on me and convinced me to go to practice. I bought her a burrito, and we had Thai for dinner. 

“Did she sleep over?” She asked you, her pointer finger tapping her bottom lip. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. The huskies cuddled up with us in a pillow fort and we both fell asleep to survivor,” 

Emily sighed, sending you a pointed look. That wasn’t what she had been asking. “But you didn’t sleep together?” 

Red instantly colored your cheeks, and the pads of your fingers dug further into the muscles at the base of your skull. “Not in the um… traditional sense,” 

You looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. You couldn’t have Taylor in that way. She didn’t want you. 

And if you crossed that boundary (like you had with only one other person who was a friend) then you knew you would lose her. 

You weren’t ready for that. 

But at the same time, you didn’t know how to not cross it. Not with the feelings still bubbling in your chest. 

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is she still there?” 

“No, she had to go back to New York after the game,” You shook your head. “And we’re going to meet up again while you all are at came because there’s a break,” 

Despite how much you didn’t want her to go, you understood that she had responsibilities and music to record, but that didn’t stop the way your chest ached now that she was gone. 

It didn’t stop the confusion racing around your brain. 

Emily stared at you like you had grown 3 heads. “A girl flew to Chicago for you, waited at your shitty apartment while you were at practice, let you bring her lunch and take her out to dinner, then attended a shitty Red Stars game and you still don’t know if she’s into you,” 

You sighed, weaving your fingers through the too-long curls at the base of your neck and tugging. 

“She’s my friend, Emily,” You grit out. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “The same friend who answers every time you call her,” 

You tugged harder. “You don’t understand,”

Taylor was like that with all of her friends. She made everyone feel like they were the only person she could see. The only person who mattered when she was with them. 

“I understand just fine,” She snorted. “You’re such a dumbass,” 

You sent her a withering glare. “Emily be serious, please,”

She held her hand up in defense. “I am being serious. You’ve been on at least 2 dates, and she invited you to her place. All before the two of you have hooked up. If that doesn’t scream dating, or the desire to be dating, then I don’t know what will,”

You shook your head, dragging your fingers up through your hair and down your face. 

This was why you hadn’t wanted to call Emily. Why Kelley or Alex would have been a much better option. 

“This is not why I called you,” You mumbled. 

“Then what is?” She asked, sounding amused. 

“I…-“ You bit your lip and finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes through the phone. “I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next,” 

“Well, at some point a conversation should happen where you define what you two are doing,” She said slowly, her voice turning soft but serious. “but other than that, I think you just go with it,”

You squinted. “Just go with it?”

What was her brilliant advice to your crisis? To just… let whatever was going to happen happen. 

“Yeah, if you’re into it and she’s into it, just be into it, together,” She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” 

Part of you wanted to yell that it already was complicated. That you couldn’t cross a line and lose her like you’d lost everyone else. But you didn’t. 

“Ok,” You said. “Thank you,” 

Emily smiled brilliantly back at you. “No problem, I’ll see you soon,”

You stared at the black screen of the phone as she ended the call. 

Maybe she was right. Maybe you just had to go with it and trust your gut. 

Maybe it would all be ok if you didn’t overthink it. That’s why you were good at hookups after all wasn’t it? 

[pixiesfz]

I know it’s not the normal thing you write so if you don’t want to then that’s fine! But I’d love a platonic lionesses fic (or just Lucy if you’d prefer) when r is the youngest player on the team and they’re all a bit overprotective of her

love this idea of a young teen lioness!!

plot: y/n's partner breaks up with y/n right before camp

warning: them pronouns are used for partner, and crying, I'm not sure what you should call a warning (also if anyone thinks they wouldn't cry like a bitch when they get broken up with is like wrong)

You stared at your phone as your tears dropped down on the text message that now clouded your brain.

You were sixteen you shouldn't expect your first relationship to be your one and only.

But you loved them.

You read the message again.

'It's really not working y/n'

'I think it's best if we break up'

'I can't deal with this anymore'

You wiped away the tears on your face. Long distance was hard and you were leaving every now and then for your soccer career, you thought they would supported you and they did at first.

Then you stopped ringing each other every night, you were sometimes late to their messages because of training and you even saw on your other friends stories of them at parties talking to other girls.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn't going to happen.

But now it has.

The doorbell went off causing you to jump and drop your phone on the floor "fuck, shit fuck" you grunted out as it hit your foot.

You remembered that Ella and Alessia had decided to pick you up to drive you to camp that day.

You quickly wiped the tears off your face and took a deep breath as the doorbell rang again and Ella's voice could be heard.

"Y/N! for god sakes are you deaf!"

It almost brought a smile to your face before you grabbed your suitcase and walked out of your room and to the front door and opened it.

Alessia was about to ring the doorbell again until you opened the door. "Finally" Ella yelled as you looked down and played with your air pod case.

"I uhm- yeah sorry I was on a call with mum" you said with a soft voice as you were already walking towards the car trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls who thankfully didn't think anything of it.

You were quiet the whole ride which weirded the two girls out usually, you would be talking their ears off and you would all sing along to some Disney song.

Even when you had arrived you quickly hurried off with a quick 'thanks' and went to get changed.

"Somethings off" Alessia said once you were out of earshot "no shit sherlock" Ella replied before they ushered over to Lucy and Keira who had also just arrived.

"Why's the little one running?" Lucy asked as she watched you with furrowed brows "somethings up she didn't talk the entire ride" Alessia explained and Keira's mouth dropped "your kidding" she said and then looked at the doors you had just walked through with worry.

You were in the rooms tying up your shoes when Leah and Beth walked in "hey chicken" Beth smiled and you nodded "Hey Beth" you relied softly, still with your head between your legs.

Leah looked at you weirdly before they walked through the rooms again and collected everyone to start training.

You weren't doing well, even when you first walked onto the pitch you looked into the empty stands where you once ran up to see your ex and hug them after a game-winning goal.

You opted to tell someone but you shook it off, you were just sixteen relationships aren't important and they definitely wouldn't care about it much.

But the more you battled your brain about it the more you kept on stuffing up weather it was a dribble, a tackle or a shot at goal.

It was Mary who noticed first "y/n you good?" she asked as you missed another shot "yeah" you replied as you fought away the tears that tried to slip out just by the goalkeeper asking about your feelings.

She nodded before looking at Leah who shot her brows at her.

You kept on trying to kick some goals and missing or taking easy shots and Mary caught them with ease. You knew what was wrong but you didn't think it would impact your playing skills.

It frustrated you and all the girls were sharing looks about your 'skills'.

When training finished you stayed on the pitch and watched as they all went in, leaving you alone.

You grabbed a ball harshly from the sideline and took it to the penalty line and kicked it.

miss.

kicked it again,

miss.

then again,

post.

You were growing so frustrated as tears now ran down your cheeks and you swore loudly at yourself. You walked up to the ball one more time to grab it but your hand stopped once you reached it as you thought about the texts once more this morning and you let out a choked sob.

You hadn't given yourself time to really cry yet and now it finally caught up to you.

You didn't know that some of the team hadn't left yet as they were worried about you but watched from the top.

"She was funny before training" Alessia explained to Leah who had her hands crossed whilst she watched you try and kick penalties "She didn't look at me at all when I said hi" Beth piped up and Leah tilted her head "She never misses" she muttered.

Lucy noticed the frustration growing on your face "Do you think something happened at home?" she wondered quietly before the girls looked back at her and took it in.

You weren't aware of their eyes on you as you dropped to the floor with the ball and kicked it as hard as you could near the goals which hit the net.

"fuck off" you cried out with your annoyance at the accidental goal and you rolled up your long sleeve to your palms and put them to your face which you cried into.

It wasn't anyone's fault it didn't work out, you tried to tell yourself but you didn't believe it.

You left to pursue soccer, you left them behind.

They were your first love and you're the reason they left.

You were too focused on your own thoughts to hear Lucy running over to you and you were too tired to pry away her arms which were picking you up.

"y/n/n" she said as she turned you around but you found yourself hugging the older girl in comfort. Keira came in next her heart dropping at the sight of you hugging Lucy in tears.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Lucy asked softly as she looked down at you, you sniffed and looked up "they broke up with me this morning" you said and watched Lucy's reaction.

She breathed in before hugging you tighter "it's going to be fine y/n, you'll get through this" she said before Keira beckoned the other girls to come over "we will help you get through this" she said before nodding her head at the girls which were now on the pitch walking towards you.

You let go of Lucy to look at the Lionesses who where worried about you.

"I'm sorry I was shit today at training" you apologized to Leah who scoffed "Oh shut up we only care about if you're okay" she told you and hugged you as well.

"I do have one question though" Lucy said from behind you "what?" you asked

"Can I find them and beat them up?"

"Lucy!" Keira said and smacked her arm which you laughed at.

"Thanks, guys," you said with a smile that wasn't fake, you couldn't believe you lucked out with a team like this.

[chaotic-toasters]

Dumb Ref

Kate Martin x Reader (I write soccer fics... don't come at me if it sucks please🙏)

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

"REF!" you yelled, tossing your hands up from your spot on the ground. "ARE YOU GONNA CALL THE FOUL OR NAH?"

The ref turned her head back in annoyance as play continued on. "Just because you keep falling over doesn't mean it's a foul, Y/L/N!"

A growl rumbled in the back of your throat. You shot to your feet, smacking the ball away as it left the LSU player's hand. "RAAHHH!"

You chucked the ball to Caitlin who made an easy layup, rolling your eyes at the way the Iowa bench was unsuccessfully trying to stifle their laughter.

As you ran back, the player you were defending mistakenly stuck out her foot ever-so-slightly, and, to your aggravation, you tripped.

"REEEEEF!" you yelled, practically shattering everyone's eardrums to the point all the courtside microphones picked it up. "SHE FLIPPIN' TRIPPED ME! CALL THE FOUL, GODDAMNIT!"

The ref blew her whistle, glaring at you before touching her right hand to her right shoulder and letting her arm fall to her side.

Your jaw dropped as you scrambled to your feet. "HOW IS THAT A FLOP?! ARE YOU DUMB?"

You were tackled to the floor before you could even take a step. "SYDNEY! GET OFFA ME YOU FU—"

A hand was slapped over your mouth.

"Don't!" Kate scolded, your girlfriend's hand remaining strong. "Don't say it."

Sydney only let you up once you stopped squirming, a look of utter annoyance on your face. "I hate all of you. Literally every single one of you."

As play started up again, you became more aggressive, throwing more shoulder into it than you had earlier on in the game, getting more steals, blocking more shots. And of course, that was when the ref started paying attention.

You had slightly knocked Angel Reese with your shoulder, successfully stealing the ball after a double team with Caitlin, when the ref had decided she didn't like that and blown the whistle.

You backflipped, chucking the ball to Narnia, fists clenched as you stalked over to the dumb woman wearing black and white stripes. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING M— YOU CAN'T EJECT ME FOR THAT YOU BI—" you stopped short when you spotted Kate giving you the I'm-not-mad,-just-disappointed girlfriend look. "YOU BIIIIII... you biii... YOU BIRD! THIS IS ONLY MY FOURTH PERSONAL! LEARN TO COUNT!"

You could hear Coach Bluder facepalm behind you.

"No," the ref scoffed. "One on Reese in the first quarter, one on Johnson in the second, and two on Poa and another one on Reese this quarter."

"Yeah! That's four!" You snapped, counting on your fingers. "Reese, Johnson, Poa, Ree—"

You stopped short. "Reese, Reese, Johnson, Poa, Poa—wait—"

Kate held in a laugh, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you gently off the court since you were still busy trying to count. "Come on, baby, off you go."

You blinked rapidly as Coach Bluder took Kate's place, guiding you to the bench with an amused but equally unamused sigh. "Sit down, Y/N."

As soon as she returned to her previous spot on the sidelines, you snapped out of it. "Dumb ref!"

Her head snapped back like a slingshot. "What did you say?"

You jumped to your feet, ready to deck her, only for Molly to deck you, lightly but effectively kicking you in the back of the knee with her foot. You practically crumpled, nearly hitting your head on the back of your seat had it not been for one of your other teammates sticking their hand out. "Ow!"

"Sit your ass down," Molly scolded. "Stop antagonizing her!"

"She's antagonizing me!" You whined, holding the back of your knee as you hauled yourself up onto your chair. "She's the one being a—"

"HEY!" Kate shouted from half court, hands in her hips as LSU prepared to dribble down the court. "NOT ANOTHER WORD, MISSY, OR YOU CAN COOK YOUR OWN DINNER FOR THE NEXT WEEK!"

You jolted, sitting up ramrod straight, frantically shaking your head at the threat.

Kylie snorted. "Really? That's all it took for you to shut up? Your girlfriend yelling at you?"

You scowled, but said nothing.

"You're so whipped."

"I am not whipped!" You screeched, shoving her off her seat before standing on yours and preparing to perform an elbow drop.

"HEY! STOP THAT!" Kate's voice was so commanding that everybody on the court froze momentarily. "KYLIE! Y/N! BEHAVE!"

You both scrambled to return to your seats, staring straight ahead with matching looks of terror on your faces.

Kate shook her head as everyone on the court snapped back into action. "LITERAL CHILDREN!"

You stuck out your tongue.

"SEE?"

I should stick to soccer fics

[pedripics]

Pedri, the "short and skinny" kid who was rejected by Tenerife, returns home

(via Relevo - November 2024)

This Monday, 18 November, is Three Kings Day in Tenerife. Because, 28 years later, the Spanish national men's football team returns to the island. The one-time king of the island, Ayoze Pérez, who will not play due to injury, will also be arriving, along with his Gran Canarian teammate Yeremy Pino. And because the man who is more magician than a king is visiting the Heliodoro Rodríguez López for the second time. A kid who comes from winning a European Championship in the summer and who is currently the sole leader of LaLiga. A certain Pedri González López, who coincidentally turns 22 this month.

There are no hard feelings. ‘Las Palmas gave me the opportunity, but Tenerife is the team of my island’, said the protagonist at a press conference on Sunday. The Tenerife fans, in any case, are grateful to the professionals of their land. With the Teguestero, who was twice on the radar of the Santacrucero team - when he was in the youth and cadet categories - there are always good words. The esteem for the ‘8’ of FC Barcelona is quite high. Humility, being cordial, is one of the youngster's best qualities. And the public appreciates that. It could already be seen at the reception of the players on Saturday at the Tenerife Norte-Ciudad de La Laguna airport and this Sunday at the open-door training session in aid of the people affected by the hurricane. It will be even more noticeable on the pitch.

For Pedri, this return is certainly not just another visit. "No, it is not. What he is most excited about is being able to play here with his people, in front of his family and friends in his homeland, especially representing his country at ‘home’. For me, it's a great gift, because seeing him play in Tenerife hardly ever happens. To be honest, I think it will be a very nice and special match, not only for us and for him, but also for the island", says his best friend, the Tenerife native Francisco Rodríguez Llarena, in Relevo.

It is his island, his people, his customers, which he remembers whenever he can. It is his father's tavern, very culé for a change. And from home-cooked food, he moves on to the main course, to what he loved most as a child: playing for the modest Juventud Laguna. There he got to know the ball and enjoyed it less than he made the spectators enjoy it, who were increasingly interested in his elastic, daring, mischievous figure. At the modest club, he shared illusions with his friends and his brother, Fernando González. "He was always a quite normal boy, introverted, quiet", several sources of the club confirm to Relevo.

Pedri's first game at the Heliodoro

On 7 September 2019, before the COVID-19 pandemic altered the world, Pedri stepped on the pitch of the Heliodoro Rodríguez López for the first and only time so far. It was his first Canarian derby as a professional and, like any mortal, he dreamed of breaking the curse of 18 straight years without a win for UD Las Palmas at the Blue and Whites' ground. True, the statistics were inflated by the irregularity of the encounters between the two teams, as they did not always coincide in the same category. Even so, the statistic still weighed heavily. Under the direction of Pepe Mel, their footballing mentor, the Yellows had not yet tasted victory on matchday 4. The desire to make it three was more intense than ever, fuelled by the urgency and the desire to change course.

No luck for the away side. It ended 0-0 and with ‘los canariones’ in 17th place. The unheralded prodigy played 86 minutes - he was replaced by Polish striker Tomas Pekhart - and picked up a yellow card for an ill-timed tackle. "It was really his first big game. I remember it was a tough game. Unfortunately, Pedri was injured in that game after a kick. It was also very special because it was his first year as a professional and especially because he was playing for the first time in Tenerife. It was all very different, we were 16 years old and we saw it as a match at the beginning of his career", adds Fran, his dear friend.

The Tenerife binders and the Madrid snowfall

There are stories to suit all tastes: passionate love affairs and romances that never came to fruition. Of the latter, Club Deportivo Tenerife has a lot to tell. When Pedri was still a youngster, the club had its eyes on him and tried to recruit him, but his school grades made his parents decline the offer. Books before football. Padilla, the scout who had bet on him and who returned empty-handed and with a grimace of resignation, knows this well.

Some time later, a new opportunity presented itself. This time, in the offices of the Tenerife club, they did not know how to read between the lines. The boy played in the infantile category and those in charge at the time described him as ‘small, without body, without presence’. Or to put it bluntly: ‘a short, skinny boy’. The opportunity passed.

It was in 2017, already a cadet, when destiny knocked on his door for the last time. Julio Durán, a scout with renewed hope, sought his urgent incorporation to Tenerife, just when the summer was fading and the league was on the horizon. But Pedri did not give in. He never heard from Tenerife again. And so it was that UD Las Palmas, attentive to the case, pulled off the masterstroke: they signed the young prodigy and launched him into the spotlight of professional football on 18 August 2019, already even signed by the astute FC Barcelona of Josep Maria Bartomeu, who convinced the Canary club with clauses that could reach - and did reach - €30 million. To this was added a 15% bonus on the capital gain of a future sale.

Before the Blaugrana giants, there were many other teams who sensed the spark in the boy from Tegueste. Atlético Madrid approached Juventud Laguna, and Real Madrid's scout from the Canary Islands, Sixto Alfonso, even sat down at the family's tavern with proposals and promises. In fact, that's where the adventure of the culé Pedri begins, travelling to Valdebebas. It was a week in February 2018, defying the Madrid winter. But the Adolfo Suárez airport was paralysed under the white blanket of snow and the training grounds were reduced to frozen postcards. What should have been a golden opportunity turned into just two days of testing under the snow. The Madrid executive, in the midst of the disaster, bid farewell to the boy. There was no further comment.

A pure interview for some, and painful for others.

In an interview, in 2019, for UD Radio, Pedri, his voice still tinged with the illusion of his 17 years, shared how he spent a day in his life as a promising footballer. "The life I lead is the life of all children who dream of becoming footballers. I am very happy for everything that is happening to me", he said.

He had just been called up to the national team for the U-17 World Cup and could not hide his enthusiasm. "I'm going to enjoy the World Cup experience with the national team. I was lucky enough to play in Qatar and score for the U-17 team on my debut", he recalled, his eyes sparkling. However, one moment that he held in his memory was his first goal as a professional, which he scored against Sporting Gijón: "It helped us win and that makes it all the more special", he confessed.

The young midfielder spoke of what it meant to him to defend the UD Las Palmas crest, the team that gave him the real opportunity, and the confidence, to make his debut and excel in the elite. "It's a club that means a lot to me. It gave me the opportunity to reach professional football. I dream, like any kid my age, of playing in the First Division with UD Las Palmas".

A dream that he never achieved and will hardly fulfil given his cachet, his impeccable progression and his vivid dream in the city of Barcelona.

"Honestly, it's not easy to settle down and forget about the outside world. He is a guy who is very apt to think about himself and his family. The key to success for him is also the humility with which he lives. The only advice I have given him has been to be the way he is, that way he will get to where he wants to be. Oh, and not to listen to external criticism, which he doesn't do, it's not within him", Francisco Rodríguez Llarena concludes.

This Monday, 18 November, he will receive the affection of his loved ones in a venue that will put its heart into it and which, starting at 19:45 Canary Islands time, will be the last big red carpet of the year.

[openphrase123]

i just finished this fic! it's good!

and because it's all done i want to like... be a LITTLE self indulgent and talk under the cut about some miscellaneous things that i ran into while writing it. don't click the readmore if you're interested in the fic and haven't read it yet i'm about to spoil the Whole thing.

also there is an epilogue to this fic now - go read that before this post if you're getting to this before the update!!

so!! i haven't written fanfiction in like FIVE YEARS. it's been a while! part of that is because i was doing original stuff and part of it was i was in a creative slump. so isat kind of dug me out of that and i owe it my thanks. i've been able to do a crazy amount of original work since starting this fic, it's brought back my creative discipline. in like seven years when my video game comes out you can thank isat for that probably

i originally set out thinking this was the only fic for isat i was going to write. and then as i was writing this i fell deeper into it. i kind of got out of isat a little disappointed in how it ended?? but now that i'm here i'm like ah it's fine. just cause i would have done something different in dev's position doesn't mean it's bad. it does mean i can write a bunch of fanfiction exploring things i wish had been tackled more in the game though LOL

i said this in one of the chapter authors notes but i DID start out curtain call hating loop with every fiber of my being. (as in i liked them as a character UNTIL the act 6 reveal which i thought was lame) and then i played through the game a second time knowing the loop twist and went "oh nvm this makes sense" so a lot of the loop stuff in this fic was actually written twice. originally i was just gonna have them soulmerge with siffrin and not be present at all but then i was like. no. i do want to keep this lighthearted and that's too depressing of an end for loop. i do have a loop postcanon doc so i'll go repay them for their slapdashed involvement in curtain call someday

i'm in a weird position with curtain call in that i wrote the themes and major conflicts Directly After playing through isat the first time. before i could really marinate and analyze the characters fully. so there are a lot of scenes and points where i think i wouldn't characterize certain people like that if i were to rewrite this from scratch? however i don't disagree with what i've written either - it's just an interpretation that i don't necessarily think is my favorite anymore.

neither is any of the worldbuilding i did for any of this - it works for curtain call and i think it was nice but i don't necessarily think it's my current interpretation of what the culture and people were like? i like the wishes being permanent thing, i like the language stuff, but i'd probably go in a different direction if i went through this again

i do actually still think "the forgotten island was destroyed by a volcano" is my solid headcanon explanation of what happened to it. in my heart. i think like - with siffrin as a character especially it's very important that he's always missing something, that it's not idyllically happy for them at the end of everything. so even if he can remember more from their own past, it's - you know - there's no way to go back. only forward.

in the vein of this i probably could have killed siffrin/loop's entire childhood family but i did not. mostly because i did think it was fun for him to have to explain all of those cultural taboos they broke to survive. which, of course, was not a big deal - any good parent would rather their kid be alive than lawful - but what is isat other than a vehicle to make siffrin work through every moral compulsion and spiral they experience

i had a thought halfway through writing the fic that i was stepping on the very good and beautiful odile friendquest by making the island real and having a lot of siffrin's personality dictate how it went. but i ultimately decided on keeping siffrin very close to their country, more than odile is to vaugarde, because siffrin actually DID live on the island when he was a kid and that i think is a Different type of "longing for your country" trauma than odile's. i think they can still drink over the feelings together though

writing bonnie is very fun but very emotional for me. the bonnie&siffrin age gap (preteen to late-20s) is the exact age gap between me and my niece so every time i need to sit down and write something for them i think about her and how much she's a little baby growing up. this has nothing to do with bonnie it just makes writing bonnie really hard for me

if the entire history of my ao3 account was not an indicator, i'm a very big fan of writing romance, but i did not want it to take over curtain call at all. i also could have left out sloopis entirely and almost did, but thought "you know. with the way loop functions in this fic. i should at least let that be open ended" cause sharing a body with a version of you who is dating some other guy is gonna get messy no matter what. it's just not necessarily something i had time to or the urge to explore here. think of it as a fun spiritual nod to the fact that isafrin is technically open ended in isat (<- cop out answer)

i think i'm pretty vocal in how much i am absolutely insane for the flashback "happiest i can remember being" conversation. who let them do that. i think a lot of how i worked with mirabelle and siffrin's relationship in this fic kind of revolved around that. important to me that it ends with mira checking in on him and getting the answer she was looking for all along <3

overall i'm happy with curtain call. glad i am done with it though. there's so much that's running in with it at once. i'll probably wait a month and reread the whole thing to myself front to back before i start having fond memories of this. i mean it's always gonna be the fic my nephew was born during and i'll always remember having a panic attack in the airport right after posting chapter 7 but it's gonna be weird letting this one sail off into the ocean of the internet. however feel free to ask anything about the fic, i wrote this in a lil hurry on a bad day and probably didn't cover everything

goodbye, curtain call!! i love you!!!!! i'll miss you!!!!

[looks both ways, waiting for most people to leave]

also. if you've read this far. i hope it's not too gauche of me to link my personal project. if you've read over 100k words of this you might enjoy the game i'm developing? i've been working on it for almost a year but i just started the devlog last month. it's still in early baby stages as far as a full video game goes but if you liked this you'll like the game when it comes out (similar nickname culture, timeloop trauma, petty interpersonal drama, very stupid jokes, natural disaster angst)

also there isn't a lot on the devblog yet, i've mostly been doing programming on it, i JUST started visdev i'm sorry if it's uglyyyyy (FOR NOW)

anyway i'm trusting you with that link. i'm going to use my professional name on that project when it airs don't cross the wires pretty please just pretend that's a butch-y cis woman's game <3 guard the closet door babeyyyyy

[s-ublimewrites]

writing sonnets (melissa schemmenti x f!reader)

synopsis: your students tease you relentlessly and melissa can't help but to join in

words: ~1.4k

warnings: none i think? wholesome borderline crack

note: im not sure i ever actually gender the reader here? but f!reader to cover my own ass<3

Don’t get it twisted - you love the inquisitive nature of your students, you really do. It’s something every eighth grade English teacher longs for. But your fourth period class has a certain knack for getting you off topic with their curiosity. On this particular day - a Friday, so blissfully close to freedom - you have relinquished all control and let them fall down the rabbit hole of fanfiction, of all things. Leave it to middle schoolers. 

They had only been learning about first, second, and third person narration - so innocuous, you didn’t see how you could possibly be derailed. Maybe you’d make it through the lesson, and you could relish in the four minutes of silence you get between periods, and-

“Where is second person narration used?” Angel doesn’t bother raising his hand, and you don’t bother admonishing him.  

You think briefly. “Honestly, not many pieces of published works use it - not that I’ve seen, anyway. We don’t talk about it much. I’ve really only seen the second person used in one place.”

You intend to leave it at that, but of course, Angel pushes. 

“Where?” he asks. 

In the second you use to inhale before tackling the question, Kennedy takes the liberty of answering: “Fanfiction, duh. That self-insert stuff.”

You can’t help it - a laugh bubbles out, and this is the moment everything begins to spiral. 

“Yeah,” you collapse into your desk chair, “Kennedy’s right. Fanfiction.”

Kennedy takes the opportunity - it’s been presented to her on a silver platter, really. “You know about fanfiction, Y/L/N?” 

“Sweetheart, my generation invented fanfiction. And I’m a writer. This was my game before you were even born.”

Angel is on his feet, his hands slamming on his desk and his voice rising with excitement, “WHERE CAN WE READ YOUR FANFICTION?” 

“Oh, my God, no. You can’t. It’s not on the internet or anything, I’d just, like… send it to my friends, or whatever,” you insist, hands coming to cover your red face as you laugh. 

The class, buzzing with chatter and giggles, continues to harass you. “So, what, Ms Schemmenti reads your fanfiction?”

Your hands are still covering your face. “No, Ms Schemmenti most certainly does not!”

“That’s because the fanfiction is about Ms Schemmenti. Y’all see how Y/L/N be looking at her in the halls,” someone says, and several others voice their agreement. 

“She’s down bad for real.”

“What?!” your head snaps up, eyes searching for whoever made the comment. The bell rings before you can get your answer. “Get out of my room, you absolute little monsters. Have a good weekend, please read chapter th- oh, okay, you’re gone. Cool. Awesome.” 

You look at the camera. It zooms in on your red, deadpan face. You drop your forehead onto the desk. 

-

When you walk into the lounge at the end of the day, you slump into the chair beside Janine, who’s engaged in a conversation about a scrabble tournament (sober scrabble - boring) with Jacob and Gregory. Barbara listens, not contributing, surely stockpiling the information so she can tell Melissa later. Melissa, who is thankfully not in the room at the moment. You think you would burst into flames. 

Janine halts her conversation about triple word scores when you throw yourself down into the chair by her. 

“Rough day?” Janine asks tentatively. 

“Long. The kids were focused on literally anything other than The Outsiders.” 

Janine nods. “I get it. Fridays, y’know? It’s always hard to keep them on task.” 

“Well, Y/N,” Jacob starts with a smirk, “my students were actually pretty interested in the topics of your class today. It’s all they could talk about when they sat down for seventh period.” 

You glare at him hard and warn, “Jacob. Do not.” 

Janine looks back and forth between you both and turns to Gregory. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“No,” you say sternly. Your eyes don’t leave Jacob’s shit-eating grin. “Not a thing.”

Jacob, it seems, has exceptionally few survival instincts and carries on giddily, “Y/N’s students found out she writes fanfiction-“

And, oh, good, Barbara is listening now, too. “Fan-fiction?” 

“Why is everyone saying that word today? It’s all I’ve been hearing in the halls since, like, fourth period.” Melissa asks, striding into the break room and taking the seat next to you. 

“I’m going to have to transfer schools,” you say, closing your eyes. 

Melissa pays this no mind. “All the older kids keep looking at me, too. It’s weird.”

You glare daggers at Jacob, whose face must hurt from the width of his smile. 

“So weird!” Jacob says innocently. 

Melissa narrows her eyes. 

“Why are you being weird? And not normal Jacob weird,” she questions, turning to you. “Why is he being weird?”

You slam your boot into Jacob’s shin under the table. “He’s not. No one’s being weird.” 

Melissa’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of you suspiciously. “Okay, someone tell me right now - what the hell is a fanfiction, and what does it have to do with me? And, apparently, Y/N?”

“Melissa, I am so glad you’ve asked, allow me to explain-“ Jacob starts, leaning across the table toward Melissa. 

“Oh my God,” you cut him off. Time to swallow your pride. 

You explain the situation… sort of. You explain in a watered-down way that incriminates you less. 

“So, yeah, they found out, and because I said ‘friend’ they connected it to you, and they misconstrued the whole thing, and it’s literally not a big deal-“ you're rambling and she knows it. 

“Wait,” Gregory stops you, “so this is why I heard Angel say ‘Y/L/N be writing sonnets about that red hair’ during lunch?”

Janine raises her eyebrows. “‘Sonnet?’ Pretty good vocab word.”

“Thank you, Janine! And thank you for focusing on the important part of the matter at hand: my impeccable teaching skills.” 

“So,” Barbara chimes in, “do you or do you not write these little stories about Melissa?”

“Barbara!” You’re mortified. “No! I do not!”

At long last, Melissa speaks. You don’t need to look at her to know there’s a smirk on her lips. “She doesn’t need to. Clearly, the material writes itself.”

“Melissa,” you plead. 

Melissa laughs that laugh, the one that makes the corners of your mouth turn up despite your discomfort. 

“Maybe that could be your end-of-the-year writing project for the kids - make them write that fanfiction,” Melissa teases. 

“You’re just as bad as Angel!” You laugh incredulously and let your hand smack Melissa’s shoulder. The others don’t miss the way Melissa doesn’t break your fingers at the gesture. 

In fact, Melissa's eyes soften as she bumps your shoulder with her own. “No, no, I can see it - newbie woos the Philly Eleven. There’s potential there.” 

You roll your eyes. “Well, I am pretty charming.”

“I’m going home,” Barbara stands up with a polite (if somewhat exasperated) smile, “Very glad we got this out of the way. Have a good weekend, everyone. Y/N… call me later.”

Barbara pats Melissa’s shoulder with a pointed look toward you, and takes her leave rapidly. 

“Uh,” you stare after her. “Yep. Bye, Barb.” 

Melissa’s eyebrow quirks up. “What was that?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “I’m sure you’ll know everything approximately five minutes after I hang up with her, though, so don’t worry.” 

Janine butts in (ah, yeah, the nerds are still here), “You guys call Barbara? Can I have her cell number? I always want to ask her but-“

“No,” you and Melissa say in unison, and Janine sighs heavily. 

You heave out a sigh of your own. “I need to go home - moreover I need to be somewhere no one is asking me about my nonexistent fanfiction habits.”

You stand, and Melissa stands with you as you both gather your belongings. “Impossible. I have your phone number.”

You “accidentally” smack Melissa with your purse, and Melissa “mistakenly” shoves her chair into your leg in a way that makes your knee buckle, and the rest of the Abbot crew watch the scene in morbid fascination. Because the cold hard truth is that if anyone else had dared to do… well, any of this, Melissa would be shoving her earrings into her pocket and removing her heels. Fight or fight instinct, y’know? 

Instead, though, she just swears at you in Italian as you head for the door, grinning widely when you return the sentiment in plain english. 

Ava entering the lounge halts you in your tracks. 

“Y’all will never guess what Angel just emailed me,” Ava exclaims, holding up her phone. “Did you know he knows the word ‘sonnet’? Proud of him.”

“Forward me that?”

Another smack from you. “Melissa, stop!” 

[alaskan-wallflower]

“Boys will be boys” headcannons, you say?

Well speaking as a teenage boy who’s done a few dumb things, here’s a couple:

-Soda definitely doesn’t wear a shirt in the summer. Any time it’s hot out, he’s ditched it (genuinely dunno how folks survive summer WITHOUT doing this tbh)

-Steve gets real pissy when he doesn’t win at things. Like if you beat him at poker he’ll tackle you. He sees this as re-establishing dominance. Everyone else sees it as Steve being a dumbass.

-Speaking of Steve, he seems like the sort to punch things when he’s mad. So does Dally. Just like…random walls and whatever. Throwing things too. I imagine it would scare Pony a bit at first, although by the time the book takes place, he’d be relatively unphased

-(movie!steve, ‘cuz in the movie he’s like 5’7) Steve used to be tall as a kid, like taller than Soda, Two-Bit, and Dally, and he’d make fun of them for being short. Then in like sophomore year of high school Soda and Dally get tall and Steve stays the same height. Soda is nice about it- but Dally mocks him for it non-stop

(Huh okay that’s a lot of Steve. I’ll shut up about him lol)

-Dally and Johnny once tried to make chocolate cake out of boredom. Somehow it turned into trying to light fireworks in the Curtis’s kitchen sink. Mrs. Curtis was pissed

-Sodapop and Darry tried to build a treehouse in the backyard as kids. It was just a piece of wood that they taped to a branch. Pony was still really impressed and bragged about it to his friends at school even though it was really lousy

-Two-Bit likes to say he’s won “every game of pool he’s ever played”, because he played once years ago and won due to a stroke of beginner’s luck. He refuses to play again now because he’ll “lose his perfect winning streak”

-Steve and Sodapop used to talk about hopping onto a freight train and going on adventures together “out in the Wild West”. Both of them low key still kinda want to

-Dally secretly wants to be a cowboy. Not like Buck, but like a Clint Eastwood type cowboy. Would die before saying so out loud

-Soda and Ponyboy have saved a few injured animals, like raccoons and whatever, and every time they do they try to convince Darry to let them keep it as a pet. Soda came real close once, and hid an injured lizard in his room for a month, but eventually Darry found it and forced him to free it

-Johnny was bored once and built a fort in the old lot, and him and Pony and Dally hung out in it until the cops made them take it down

-Sodapop, Two-Bit, and Steve once tried to start a band. It was terrible, because Soda and Two-Bit are too lazy to bother learning an instrument. Steve was okay because he could sing pretty well, but he sucked at the guitar he was trying to play too, and it all fell apart. Dally told them he’d pay them money to never play music again

okay, that’s probably enough for now- but yeah, there’s a few. Idk how much they stuck to the prompt, but whatever lol

all of these are biblically accurate, congrats 😭😭 especially johnny and sally making fireworks like that’s the only time mrs curtis yelled at any of the gang-dally is such a bitch in the last one tho like i know they were all like ten and he was twelve and he was just like “yeah never open your mouths again here’s ten bucks for each of ya buy yourself sonethin’ nice” like ok dally 😭😭soda and pong have straight up come home with a baby bobcat and darry was like “PUT THAT BACK ITS MOM IS LOOKING FOR IT 😡”

these are all canon trust

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Ooooo what about an mc who sometimes shows their love through aggressive affection, like tight hugs biting ect :) ?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an aggressively affectionate MC

~ see, this is the kind of affection I constantly resist the urge to show my own friends. I can still hear my mom's voice saying "gentle hug, brainrot, gentle hug." happy reading anon! - brainrot ~

Julian

Are you kidding? He loves it

He's all for a little manhandling. Biting is never not on the table.

Hug him until his ribs creak and he'll swoon at your show of strength

You may have to be careful though, because if this sort of affection comes from an innocent place for you, it won't stay that way for very long

As soon as you initiate he'll try to escalate

Depending on the kind of person you are, this probably means saving the more aggressive displays for less public situations

Actively encourages you not to hold back. He'll take everything you have to give him

Asra

They love you, any intense display of affection is more than welcome. Bring it on, they are all yours

Especially physical, considering how he primarily shows his own love through touch

They love to linger in softer moments though, so the progression of affection generally starts with you initiating something aggressive and them prolonging it into something sweet and tender

You'll tackle him in a bear hug and he'll twine his arms around you for a longer cuddle

You'll randomly bite their arm and they'll take advantage of the proximity to press a kiss to your forehead

Nadia

Rather startled at first. Her family's always been too poised for this sort of thing and Lucio's displays were usually for attention

Once she gets over her shock she's into it

Really, really into it

She loves seeing you unfettered and thriving. It's her opportunity to admire you

And then to remind you who you're with

Absolutely the type to smoothly receive your public displays of affection and repay them ten times over in private

Catching her off guard is delightful. Everyone in the palace knows you've just appeared when they hear her delighted laughter floating through the halls

Muriel

Oh dear, be very gentle with him

On one hand, it can be a little triggering at first. The only touch he's known his whole life has been harsh, and aggression is not the same but it can feel similar

On the other hand, once he's safe with you, he really likes it. He likes seeing you treat him so boldly and knowing that nothing about his physicality scares you

And he hates when people tiptoe around him. He's not a baby, and he's not made of glass

Always receives your gestures with a grunt of surprise and then a heavily blushing smile. He loves you so much

Portia

Oh, it's on

She's no stranger to aggressive affection. She regularly punches her own brother in the gut as a show of solidarity

It becomes a competition

You tackle her out of nowhere with a bear hug and it immediately turns into a "who can squeeze tighter" contest

Warning: she is a very, very strong woman

Bite her arm and she'll bite yours. It is a lawless game

Your mutual friends all start to get concerned when you start appearing with random teeth marks all over yourself. Not love bites or hickeys. Just. teeth marks.

Lucio

Rough love is completely intuitive to him. This is hands down one of the best ways to communicate basic affection to him

It tells him he doesn't have to hold back

You could initiate a tight hug and then you'd feel a magically-powered golden arm pressing just as tight around your shoulders

Biting is great. He'll bite you back

Mercedes and Melchior will give you gentle chomps too, if you let them

It's not uncommon for this to devolve into roughhousing, chasing each other around and tackling whoever you catch to the floor

Which in turn often progresses to ... other activities not suitable for this blog

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Did they ever tackle how the other dorm leaders reacted to the whole anemone issue during the Octavinelle arc? Like i know Riddle wasn't happy when he found out that ADeuce got into a contract with Azul and have to serve him since they failed to complete their deal but I dont think we got Leona's reaction to what happened to his dormmates since Im pretty sure I saw Savanaclaw npcs among the anemones. Like were they unaware or did they decide "let them face the consequences"?

Nope, we pretty much only have Riddle and Leona’s perspectives on the anemone incident of book 3. I’m pretty sure the other dorm leaders were not ignorant about what had happened; Azul had 225 students out of a school of 800ish under his thumb, which would significantly impact the school’s ecosystem and would be hard to ignore. Besides, what dorm leader would ignore anemones suddenly sprouting on their students’ heads and NOT get to the bottom of things?

It’s not too hard to imagine that the other dorm leaders were none too pleased to find out the news but also didn’t intervene for whatever reason (be it “they deserve to face these consequences”, knowing that they can’t do anything about it, etc.). In all likelihood, it was probably done out of convenience for the writers and/or to keep the story centered on the initial characters. At this point in the main story, we haven’t met characters relevant to other dorms (like Epel in Pomefiore), so we’d really feel little attachment seeing generic mob students suffering as Vil chides them or whatever. We can still get emotionally invested because our personal friends, Adeuce and Grim, are in dire straits.

Of course, Riddle was NOT happy with the circumstances (how dumb do you have to be to make a contract with Azul?). According to Deuce in 3-7, he was scolded and made to write a paper to reflect.

Leona’s opinion, meanwhile, is moreso implied. In 3-16, he says that anyone that would willingly and repeatedly make contracts with Azul are stupid. Leona has also made deals with Azul, but it always came at a steep cost to himself so he tries to do so sparingly. However, Leona also continuously characterizes those who get suckered as “dumb” and “dim-witted”, implying he does not think highly of those who fall for Azul’s schemes. This leads me to think that Leona’s feelings err on “you made your bed, now go lie in it”.

But!! I think it’s possible that Leona’s motivation to dust Azul’s contracts threefold: eliminate his own contract with Azul, help Yuu and co. out (because they’re annoying him, lol), AND to free his (idiot) dorm members from Azul’s clutches. We’ve seen Leona act very similarly “selfless” (while operating to achieve his own goals) in book 2, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he continued this plotting in other books.

One thing I noticed while reviewing book 3; there are only anemone’d students from FOUR of the dorms: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Pomefiore. Octavinelle, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia students were not reaped.

Now, it’s possible that this occurred due to limited game assets, as a similar issue occurred with the game showing beastmen mobs only in Savanclaw and in no other dorm. However, the manga debunked this quickly by showing beastmen in Heartslabyul and humans in Savanavlaw. I therefore decided to consult the manga to see if I could find Octavinelle, Ignihyde, or Diasomnia mobs among Azul’s anemones.

The Episode of Octavinelle manga depicts many mob students also indebted to Azul. It wasn’t that helpful since the pages are in black and white, making it difficult to know which dorms they belong to. However, we do see that Ignihyde students were anemone'd:

Do you think Azul didn’t bother with his own dorm members to maintain the image of being a trustworthy and kind dorm leader/senpai? Maybe the Diasomnia kids were too strong-willed to fall for his schemes? Or perhaps they really are among the count of anemones, but just not shown clearly in the game/manga. (I can’t see Azul passing up the opportunity to get more clients indebted to him, regardless of dorm affiliation, since getting enough students of one dorm under him could grant him leverage with the dorm leader to get them back www)

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 7: It'll Be Nice to Feel Wanted for a Change

You and Joel decide your next steps. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 6, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

^I keep using Pedro gifs instead of Joel gifs because Joel is such a baby in this fic I'm sorry 😭

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Diet culture type language. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 7.3K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Told you, I have connections.” 

Joel rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, watching as the kids on the soccer field changed directions. 

“Still feel like business school is overkill,” he said, putting the travel mug in the cupholder of his folding chair. “Especially at this point… GET ‘EM BABY GIRL!” 

Sarah stole the ball from a girl on the other team and dodged another girl before starting to charge up field, a serious look on her face.

“GO SARAH!” You jumped up and screamed, cupping your hands around your mouth. Sarah got pinned down and looked around before passing the ball, sending the it between two defenders to another player. Her teammate got the ball and sent it careening toward the goal before the other team could change direction. It sailed in and Joel leapt to his feet, the two of you jumping and clapping. “HECK YEAH!” 

Sarah beamed at the two of you before she went to hug the girl who scored. You and Joel sat back down as play started back up. The coffee had spilled some in his excitement, the fabric arm of the chair wet. 

“Now is the time to do the business school thing,” you said as you leaned forward on your thighs, watching the game intently, your hands clasped together and tucked between your knees. “And besides, it’s not actual business school. It’s… business school light. Enough to help you draw up a business plan and that kind of shi…stuff. The kind of stuff that you’ll need if you need to take out money from the bank to get started.” 

Joel sighed. He knew you were right, he just wasn’t crazy about the idea. 

After you’d had dinner - and nearly devolved into an argument that, in hindsight, Joel really was not ready to have no matter how hard he was pushing for it - the two of you had gone back and forth about what to do next. 

Your call shouldn’t have surprised him. You’d always been an academic sort of person, the fact that you’d gotten into some fancy college had come as no surprise to Joel. Of course your first idea involved formal education. 

You reached out to a friend of a friend at the business school and got some of his recorded lectures from the era of virtual classes during COVID. He was happy to share them once you explained it, compiling some lectures, notes and guides for Joel to use. 

Joel felt bad about putting some stranger out like that but you said he was happy to do it in exchange for an autographed copy of your book. 

“I know, it’s crazy,” you’d teased when he looked at you in disbelief. “Should have let me draw on your face that one time, think of how valuable it’d be now…” 

Joel just snorted and shook his head. 

“Get in there!” 

You were on your feet again, watching as Sarah tackled the ball away from another girl. You screamed and jumped when she succeeded and Sarah smiled as she clambered back to her feet. 

“Good job, kiddo!” Joel called, still seated but smiling. You got really into Sarah’s games, Joel had quickly learned. He wasn’t about to admit it to you, but he loved it. It reminded him of when you were both in high school, when you’d watch from the front row of the stands during football games, screaming so loud that he could hear you over everyone else at the game. You drew his number on your cheek and bleached it onto a t-shirt. You’d even made Tommy a matching one, something the 10-year-old had taken as a profession of undying love and devotion back then. 

The next time you were at the house after giving him the shirt, Tommy sauntered through the kitchen where you and Joel were having a snack, topless, drenched in cologne and hair slicked back. Joel watched you try not to laugh as Tommy leaned on the table in front of you, giving you a cocky smile. 

“Hey Goldie,” he said, his voice artificially deep. Joel choked on his Coke and covered it with a cough. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. “Even though I’m here every Saturday afternoon?” 

His smile faltered. 

“Well… uh…” his eyes darted to Joel, like he was looking for help. Joel just held up his hands. “Just… didn’t expect you to be here looking so good.” 

“Oh,” Joel could see the edges of your lips pulling up. “So I don’t normally look good? Darn…” 

“No, wait…” he stood up from the table, eyes darting to Joel again. “I don’t… you…” 

“Don’t you have a matchbox car to crash or something?” Joel asked. “Stop tryin’ to pick up my girl, little man.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy muttered before stomping back off toward his room. 

“I’ll tell mom you said that,” Joel leaned forward and watched his little brother go. 

“So I’m your girl now?” You teased once he was out of ear shot. “News to me. And be nice to him, he’s just a kid and he’s a sweetheart.” 

“He thinks he’s Don Juanito is what he is,” Joel muttered, sitting back in his seat and taking a sip of his Coke. “You being my girl might be the only way he leaves you alone.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled a little anyway. 

“All this trouble because I wanted to support my best friend as he fucked up in the red zone…” 

“I’ll tell my mom on your language, too,” he said. “Don’t think she won’t smack you upside your head just because she didn’t birth you. You’re her favorite kid, but don’t push it.” 

Tommy had, thankfully, gotten over his crush on you. A fact that Joel was endlessly thankful for now that his part in helping you complete your list included finding you a fucking date. 

There was a guy on his team at work he thought would at least be something besides a total waste of time. Blake was a decent man, one of the few on the site who didn’t say disgusting shit about women the second they believed they were among other assholes who thought the same way. Joel had caught him reading once on his lunch break, something that he was sure would be important to you. You’d want someone who read. Joel should read more. 

Blake, Joel thought, would be a decent enough guy to set you up with. Not good enough for you - no one was good enough for you - but at least a damn improvement over fucking Brad. 

He just hoped it wouldn’t stick. 

Not that he wanted you to be alone. He didn’t. He wanted you to be happy. More than almost anything else he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to have whatever it took to make that happen. But he wasn’t sure how he’d get past working with someone he knew got to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. He’d hear about dates with you and things you enjoyed with a boyfriend and not just your friend. He’d have to hear all about what someone else was doing for you because he couldn’t. 

Which was fine. Should be fine. You were his friend, you’d always been his friend. He could love you as a friend, he did love you as a friend, he could get past the other shit. He could. 

And if Blake ever decided to try to talk about you the way some of the other assholes they worked with talked about their girlfriends then, well, at least Joel could fucking deck him for it. 

“She’s killing it out there,” you settled back into your folding chair and glanced over at Joel. 

“She always does,” Joel nodded. “She’s got skills, that girl.” 

“She seems to really like it, too,” you said, eyes back on Sarah. “Which is the important thing. If she’s good enough, she could get scholarships and shit. But that really only matters if she also likes it, there’s no use in her being miserable because of the demands of being a student athlete because she happens to be good a sport she doesn’t enjoy…” 

“She loves it,” Joel said. “And, honestly, I’m hopin’ that sticks and that she can get a scholarship, lord knows I can’t afford to shell out for college…” 

“You can’t now,” you corrected him good naturedly. “But once you become Joel Miller: Entrepreneur and man about town, that’s another story.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“What?” You asked. 

“You’ve just got a lot more faith in me than I do.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to?” You asked, looking at him again. “You’re my person so that’s part of my my job. Recognizing your potential.” 

“See, just the fact that you think I have potential to recognize…” 

“Oh shut up,” you swatted his arm and he laughed a little, watching you watch his daughter run back up the field. 

No, Blake didn’t deserve you. No one did. Least of all Joel. 

Sarah’s team won the game and she was beaming when she ran over to you and Joel after the post-game huddle. 

“Did you see that one steal I did?” She asked, leaning between the front seats of the truck. “It was so cool, I almost missed it but then I got it to Sophie and she was able to score and it was so COOL!” 

“Seatbelt,” Joel said. Sarah rolled her eyes but flopped back into her seat and buckled up, anyway. “Thank you. And yes, we saw, Baby Girl! You kicked ass out there.” 

“Can ass kickers pick lunch?” She asked. 

“Ass kickers can pick lunch,” Joel said. “But ass kickers can’t say ass until they’re at least 13, sorry kiddo.” 

“Aw man,” she huffed but then smiled. “I’m gonna swear so much on my 13th birthday…” 

“Yeah I bet you are,” he shook is head and caught you trying not to laugh out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, kiddo, where for lunch?” 

Joel watched her in the rearview mirror, a serious look on her face as she considered her options. 

“Dairy Queen,” she said eventually, nodding seriously. “Because then I can get a Blizzard.” 

“Whatever the ass kicker demands,” Joel said. 

Sarah ordered a burger with her blizzard before going to find a table. Joel got the steak fingers and a shake and you just stood there, staring up at the menu board with a slight frown on your face. 

“What?” Joel asked. “C’mon, it’s a limited menu, can’t be that hard.” 

“It’s just been forever since I’ve been to a DQ,” you said absently. “Not sure what to really get…” 

“Goldie,” he said, voice serious. You looked at him, frowning. “We both know what you get at Dairy Queen.” 

“Yeah, when I was a teenager,” you looked back up at the menu. “Little different now…” 

“Not gonna find a salad up there,” he said. 

“Yeah, but…” 

“Remember how the number one thing on your list was finalize your divorce?” He asked. You looked at him again, brows raised. “Well, this is one part of that you can control. You can ditch all the stupid shit that asshole put in your head, starting with the idea that you can’t get chicken fingers every once in a while.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, instead looking to the cashier. 

“She’ll do the chicken fingers basket,” Joel said. “With fries. And a medium Reese’s Blizzard.” 

“Small,” you corrected him. 

“Medium,” he said, looking over at you. “Because we both know I want to eat half of it.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Medium,” you said. 

“Alright,” he said, going to pay. 

When the food came out, he took one of your chicken fingers and your eyes went wide. 

“Hey!” 

“Oh sit tight,” he rolled his eyes and dropped one of his steak fingers in your basket. 

“What makes you think I want one of your steak fingers?” You asked, incredulous. 

“You always want one of my steak fingers,” he said. “Every time.” 

You glared at him for a second. 

“Shut up.” 

Joel laughed before dropping an onion ring in your basket and swiping a few fries. 

“So you guys really hung out all the time before, huh?” Sarah said, eating a fry and watching the two of you from across the table. 

“We did,” you smiled at Joel before looking back at Sarah. “We basically lived together, probably drove our moms crazy…” 

“Your mom, maybe,” Joel teased. “Mine loved havin’ you around all the time. Said you were a good influence.” 

“Because I was,” you teased back. 

“So,” Sarah watched you both closely. “Why didn’t I meet you until now? I mean, I met other friends of my dad’s. Did you guys have a fight or something?” 

The two of you looked at each other for a second. How the fuck was Joel supposed to explain this to his kid? Yeah, we were friends, and then the two of us decided to have sex and then just stop talking for a decade and a half? Not quite age appropriate. 

“Well,” you said, dipping one of your fries in your Blizzard before popping it in your mouth. 

“You’re so gross,” Joel said and you rolled your eyes and elbowed him in the side. 

“Shove it,” you smiled a little and looked back to Sarah. “We finished high school and I had to move for college and we just kind of stopped talking quite as much, we didn’t do a great job of keeping in touch. We were busy, it just kind of happens when you’re a grown up.” 

Sarah crinkled her nose. 

“That’s dumb,” she said. 

“You’re right,” you smiled a little, looking at Joel. “But adults do dumb things sometimes.” 

Sarah nodded slowly, taking a fry and dipping it in her Oreo Blizzard before taking a hesitant bite and chewing thoughtfully. She frowned for a moment before her eyes lit up and she dipped the fry again. 

Joel groaned. 

“Not you, too…” 

“Just gotta get on the French fries in ice cream train, Miller,” you smiled smugly. “Sweet, savory? It’s the best.” 

“She’s right, Dad,” Sarah said, dipping another fry. “This is better than ketchup.” 

“I’m surrounded by weirdos,” Joel muttered but he couldn’t help smiling a little to himself, watching you and his daughter together, a strange pull at the base of his chest at the sight. This, he thought, was how it was supposed to be. You were meant to be with the two of them, it was obvious. It was almost strange, how clearly he fit with you. He hadn’t felt like there was something distinctly missing over the last decade. He’d gone about his life, raising his daughter, trying to get ahead at work. He bought a house, kept his brother’s nose clean, buried his mother. There had been no distinct sense of absence. He thought of you often - every day, really - and it hurt but it was a dulled pain, a longing for what he had before. He hadn’t known what he’d really been missing, the way things would be with you at the stage of life you were both in now. 

But now that he had you here, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed this gaping hole at the center of his reality before. There would be no excising you from him now, it wouldn’t work, the ragged edges of your absence would be too clear in everything he did. 

He’d just have to do whatever it took to keep you in his life. Even if that meant setting you up with some guy from work. 

“So Sarah,” you said, ripping your chicken finger in half and reaching over to dip it in the gravy in Joel’s basket. 

“Hey!” 

You ignored him. 

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” You continued, eating the chicken tender. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you need?” 

“Well,” you said, brushing your hands free of crumbs before taking a sip of your drink. “I was thinking about getting a cat but I have no idea how to pick a cat. Do you think you could come with me to the shelter and help me look? Just make sure I’m finding the right one?” 

Her eyes lit up and she looked at Joel. 

“Can I Dad?” She begged. “Please? I love cats, they’re so cute, and…” 

Joel laughed, draping his arm over the bench behind you. You’d already talked with him about this, seeing if Sarah wanted to go to the animal shelter this afternoon. He knew she’d love it.

“Well,” he sighed, pretending to consider it. “If you promise to behave this week…” 

“I will!” 

“And do all your homework the first time I ask,” he said. 

“Deal!” 

“Then alright,” he conceded. “We can go with Aunt Goldie to pick a cat.” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory and Joel smiled and shook his head, settling back in the booth with his shake in his hand. 

The three of you went back to Joel’s and gave Sarah a chance to get cleaned up before heading to the shelter to look at cats. Sarah took over the radio in the car and insisted on playing Taylor Swift and you learned the chorus to one of the songs she was belting in the back seat, singing along the last time through, windows rolled down, your hand tapping out the rhythm of the song on the outside of the door. 

“So what kind of cat do you want?” Sarah asked, turning to face you and Joel as she walked backwards down the row of cages. 

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged. “Never really had a pet. One that wants to sit on my lap and purr?” 

“See what not having a pet as a kid does to you, Dad?” Sarah said, looking at Joel with wide eyes. “Leaves you totally unprepared for picking a pet later in life. I should get a cat, too, while we’re here.” 

“No,” he said. “Watch where you’re walkin’.” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically but obeyed, leading the way through the cages. 

“Oh, look at this one!” She stopped in front of a cage and laced her fingers through the bars, a black and white cat on the other side of it watching her from the back corner. “She’s so pretty!” 

Joel stood at your back as you paused, looking at the cat for a moment. 

“She is pretty,” you said. “But I want to see all of them first before I see if there are any we want to really meet.” 

Sarah stopped outside of a gray and white tabby’s cage, the cat rubbing its face over the bars. 

“Aw!” She reached a finger out and brushed along its cheek. “She’s so cute! And she seems so sweet!” 

“She does,” you agreed, reaching around Sarah to give the cat a haphazard pet. 

“Dad!” Sarah looked back over her shoulder at him. “Her name is Swiftie! She’s perfect!” 

“We’re not here for us, Baby Girl,” Joel said. “C’mon, more cats to see, don’t get attached.” 

“Well we have to meet that one now,” you said, looking at Joel and very clearly trying not to smile. “It’s required.” 

“It’s really not,” he replied. “God, you’re such a bad influence…” 

“Nah,” you replied. “I’m just always right, you should get used to it.” 

You found another cat you really wanted to meet, an orange striped one who stood on his hind legs in his cage and reached a paw through the bars while meowing loudly for attention. 

“Alright, Baby Girl,” Joel sighed, hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you go find someone who works here, see if we can meet some of these guys…” 

She squealed before running out to find someone, Joel watching her go before turning his attention back to you.

“You’re never gonna have another moment’s peace with that thing in your house,” he said, watching as you reached your fingers through the bars and scratched its head as it purred loudly, arching into your touch. 

“That’s alright,” you smiled, watching the cat. “It’ll be nice to feel wanted for a change. Totally worth it.” 

Joel just looked at you for a moment, an odd twinge in him. Maybe you were lonelier than he realized. Maybe things had been worse with your fucking ex than he’d known. Maybe you didn’t understand that he wanted you. In so many fucking ways, he wanted you. 

He just had no idea how to say that to you, not without fucking up everything else.

“Hi there,” a woman with a name tag walked up, Sarah at her side, before Joel had a chance to say anything at all. “I hear you want to see some cats?” 

You told her the ones you wanted to see and the woman led you to a small room with a bench and some cat toys before going to get the first cat. 

Joel should really have known what was going to happen after that. The three of you settled on the floor, you and Joel sitting beside each other, backs against the cinderblock wall, letting cats climb over your legs and throwing little bell-filled balls for them to chase as Sarah pulled a feather on a string across the floor. You were already attached to the orange cat but Sarah was obviously in love with the gray one. Joel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, watching as his daughter held the little cat on her lap, talking to it all soft and gentle. 

“I really should’ve known better than to do this,” he muttered and you laughed a little, leaning your head on his shoulder and watching Sarah, too. “Jesus…” 

“At least it’s a cat and not a dog,” you patted his thigh twice before letting your hand rest there near his knee. His heart beat faster. “Could be worse.” 

“So,” the woman came back in, carefully closing the door before the cat on Sarah’s lap could escape. But it didn’t look like there was any risk of it, the little thing seemingly content to stay there for the rest of time. “What are we thinking?” 

“Please, Dad?” Sarah looked at him, her eyes so wide. “I’ll do all the work, I promise. I’ll clean the litter box every day and I’ll feed her and play with her and…” 

Joel sighed. 

“You’d gotta actually do it, Baby Girl,” he said. “I mean it.” 

“I will!” She said, holding the cat close. “I promise!” 

He sighed again. 

“Alright, we’ll take that one…” 

“Fantastic,” the woman smiled. “I’ll start the paperwork…” 

“Oh, and I’m going to get Garfield, the orange one,” you said as she turned to leave. “But I’ll be changing his name…” 

“That’s great,” she said. “But we will have to check and make sure the cats are compatible before we send you home with two…” 

“No,” you laughed. “No, sorry, no, we don’t live together. He’ll be coming with me and this one will be going with them.” 

“Oh!” She laughed back. “I’m so sorry, I just thought you two were married. I’ll get started on the paperwork for both, I’ll be right back.” 

Joel watched the woman go and glanced at Sarah to make sure she was still totally absorbed with the cat on her lap before lowering his voice. 

“Could have denied that a little harder, I think…” 

He practically heard you roll your eyes. 

“What, did you want to see if we could save on adoption fees by filling out one set of paperwork?” You asked. 

“Always said we’d make good roommates,” he replied. “Seems a good a reason as any.”

You scoffed. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said.

“What?” He said, turning his head just enough to see you, still leaning against him. “I’m serious. You really tellin’ me that the idea of living with me is that terrifying?” 

“The inevitable fallout is terrifying, yeah,” you said. 

“Here we go,” the woman came back in with two clipboards and you lifted your head from Joel’s shoulder. “Once you fill this out and pay your deposit, we can run a few checks and you can come back in a few days for your new best friends!” 

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Joel smirked a little as he started completing the paperwork. “You were looking to replace me the whole time…” 

“Well clearly yes,” you said absently, working on your own documents. “Furry, loud, opinionated… You’re basically twins, why do I need you to keep coming over when I’ll have Puck?” 

“Puck?” Joel frowned. “Like hockey puck?” 

“Puck like the fairy from Midsummer,” you replied. Joel must have still looked confused because when you looked over at him, you rolled your eyes. “The mischievous one from Midsummer Night’s Dream? The Shakespeare play? I know you read it, we had to read it sophomore year…” 

“C’mon Dad,” Sarah looked up from the cat in her lap. “Even I know that one.” 

“Alright, well,” Joel said. “You two are the smartest people I know, not fair to judge me by that standard…” 

Joel caught a glimpse of you smiling out of the corner of his eye as he finished the paperwork. 

*** 

“I have a question for you.” 

You opened your eyes to see Joel looking down to you, your head in his lap, his thumb brushing your temple in a soothing rhythm. It was late. Sarah had gone to bed hours before, worn out after her game and suckering her dad into adopting a cat and going to Target to pick out every toy under the sun for her new pet and yours. You were pretty sure you weren’t going home that night, too comfortable in your position against Joel.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes and settling into him and the couch again. “I can’t convince Sarah to give up the cat. My position as the cool aunt is too tenuous, I’m going to side exclusively with Sarah in all conflicts for the foreseeable future…” 

“I could just refuse to pick it up in a few days,” Joel mused. “Tell her the shelter denied our application because of my history as a cold hearted killer with no mercy.” 

“Ah yes,” you smiled a little. “I forgot, Joel Miller, heartless killing machine.” 

“Cold hearted,” he corrected. “Get it right.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” 

“But no,” he continued. “Not what I was going to ask.”

You opened one eye, looking up at him, trying not to think about how soft his eyes were. 

“Shoot,” you said, closing your eye again. 

“Was thinking about the lists…” he trailed off. 

“That wasn’t a question, Miller,” you said after a moment. 

“I’m gettin’ there, don’t rush me, woman.” 

You opened your eyes just enough to see him over you. His hand slipped around to cup the crown of your head. He was so handsome. There should be rules about that, there should be rules about men who are that beautiful. They should need licensing or something, they shouldn’t just be allowed to freely exist, endangering women everywhere. 

You closed your eyes again. 

“Take your time, Miller,” you said. “Not going anywhere.” 

“Anyway,” he said and you could hear his eye roll. His thumb stroked your hair. “Both our lists have relationship shit on ‘em…” 

His voice trailed off and your heart beat a little faster. 

“Yes?” You said when he didn’t continue. 

“Well, you were sayin’ you didn’t know how to do the whole… app thing.” 

“Right…” 

“What if…” he took a deep breath. “We tried going out together. You bring someone for me, I bring someone for you…” 

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t help it. You knew the kind of relationship you had with Joel, the kind of relationship you’d always had with Joel. He’d made it perfectly clear that anything beyond that was totally out of the question for him and you’d accepted that. It had taken a long time - and a failed marriage - but you accepted it. 

That didn’t make the concept of picking out a girlfriend for him sting any less. 

“Just… then you don’t have to fuck around on apps,” he said quickly when you didn’t reply. “And I don’t have to waste my time on someone who wouldn’t work in a million years because you’re doing my thinking for me…” 

“Instead of your dick?” You asked, opening your eyes. He smiled a little. Goddammit, him and his fucking dimple. 

“Exactly,” he said, cocking his head so it was more in line with yours. He looked a little uncertain, his eyes searching yours. “So… what do you think?” 

“Well,” you sighed. “Makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose…. When were you thinking?” 

“I did say we should move ‘get laid’ to the top of your list,” he smirked a little. “So maybe next weekend?” 

“Next weekend?” You sat up so fast that you almost smacked into his nose, your head spinning for a moment. Joel grabbed you to steady you as you twisted haphazardly to face him again, legs crossed in front of you. “Doesn’t that seem fast?” 

He looked at you, puzzled, as he turned to face you, too. 

“Goldie, you and fuckin’ Brad…” 

“Gale.” 

“…Split up a year ago. You gotta get back out there, it’s not fast.” 

“No, I mean,” you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking at him again. “Isn’t that a little fast to find someone for each other? I wouldn’t even know where to start…” 

There was something about the sheepish look on his face that made your eyes narrow. 

“What.” 

“I… might have someone in mind for you already,” he flinched as he said it. 

“Seriously?” 

“Look, I just don’t want you dating some random asshole, alright?” He said. “He’s a good guy, think you’d have at least some shit in common, feels like I could trust him with you…” 

“Gee, thanks,” you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being serious!” He looked down at his lap for a moment, absently picking at a seam on his couch. “I worry about you. I know shit’s dangerous for women, alright? Much rather you be out with someone who I know isn’t gonna hurt you than some guy I don’t know that I can trust…” 

“Careful Miller,” you said wryly. “Someone might think you care about me or something.” 

“Well, can’t have that now can we,” he looked up to meet your eyes again, small smile on his face. “I’m already worrying about this shit with Sarah and she’s years off from dating. Outside of her, you’re the most important person in the world to me. Want to know you’re OK out there when I’m not with you. And I’m assuming that you wouldn’t want me to tag along on every damn date you have…” 

“Bold assumption.” 

He glared at you. 

“And this way I can know,” he said. “So yeah, alright, it’s crossed my mind.” 

“Have you talked to this guy?” You asked. “He might want nothing to do with me.” 

“I ain’t worried about that part,” he waved you off. “You’re you and he’s a smart guy, he’ll see what’s on the table. Much more worried about you conning someone into goin’ out with me…” 

“Oh ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve ever had a problem landing women…” 

“The kind that stick?” He raised his brows. “Yeah, I have.” 

“Fair enough,” you sighed, thinking about the few people you knew in Austin. There was an adjunct professor in your department who you thought might be Joel’s type that you wouldn’t vomit at the thought of seeing him with. “I think I have someone who will go for it. Next weekend?” 

“Next weekend,” he confirmed and then laughed a little. “C’mon, don’t look so miserable about it. Whoever you end up with it’ll be better than fuckin’ Brad.” 

“Gale,” you corrected again and then slumped forward until your forehead was pressed into Joel’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms gently around you. “This sucks. I got married so I wouldn’t have to date anymore. This is bullshit, I want a refund.” 

He laughed once. 

“Don’t think that’s how it works, Goldie,” he said, giving you a little squeeze. “Refund part, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’d just like the best years of my life back.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment, one hand finding a gentle, easy path over your back. 

“Come on,” he said eventually. “You feel tired. Let’s get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Assuming you mean here at this point?” 

He scoffed. 

“Ship sailed on you goin’ home hours ago,” he said. “I know who I’m dealing with.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

You pulled away from him slowly and followed him up to his room. He loaned you a t-shirt and you got changed in his bathroom, taking your makeup off as best you could with the world’s most basic facial scrub and water before going to find him in bed. He was sitting up, his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you for a moment when you came in and looked back at his phone for a fraction of a second before looking back at you again, his mouth open slightly. 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” he said quickly, plugging his phone in and putting it face down on his nightstand. “Just forgot what shirt I gave you.” 

You looked down at it, a faded shirt from the Houston Space Center. You frowned for a moment.

“Was this from when we went when we were kids?” You laughed. “On a field trip?” 

“It is,” he said. “I wanted something that would fit as I was bulking up. Might have been a bit ambitious on the size…” 

“You’ll have to model it for me sometime,” you said, climbing into bed next to him. He turned out the lamp and you heard him lay down. You gave him a second to adjust before you slipped against his side, his arm gong around you. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead as your cheek found its place on his chest. 

“You’re sure about this dating thing?” You asked quietly into the dark. He was so warm next to you. Warm and big and firm and safe. You tried not to think about how desperately you wanted him to say no, in fact, he wasn’t sure. That all he was sure of was that he wanted you. 

He sighed instead. 

“Think so,” he said.”You really that worried about it?” 

You shrugged against him. 

“Goldie.” 

“Just…” you sighed. “I fucked up one marriage already. Why should I think I’ll get it right next time?” 

“You realize that shit isn’t all on you, right?” He asked. “I don’t even know what happened but… I can just about promise that it’s not all on you. Be surprised if any of it is. You gotta stop letting that asshole determine your whole life, Goldie. He’s not worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, moving closer to him. “You’re probably right.” 

Joel made sure both of you were up before Sarah in the morning, sparing you both from any of her prying questions, and you spent the morning with them before going home again and trying to write but getting nowhere. You wasted hours on an outline this time before hating the story so much that it made your stomach clench to even look at it. It was so pathetic, a lost woman clinging to a past lover so hard that she couldn’t chart a path forward, and you couldn’t seem to chart a way toward a satisfying end. You started a fire in your fireplace for the first time just so you could burn the paper you’d wasted on this one. You had a glass of wine as you watched the flames devour it, ash floating to the hearth like snow, white and dead. 

Part of it, you were sure, was the fact that you were dreading the idea of talking with Natalie, the adjunct you were going to try to set up with Joel. She’d like him. Of course she’d like him. It was Joel, everyone liked Joel, that was the problem. She’d like him and you’d have to sit there and watch him like her. Love her, eventually. If not her then someone else. You hadn’t been able to handle that when you were 18 and the fact that you were in your 30s now didn’t seem to have changed much. That’s part of why you’d done what you’d done after prom. A small part, perhaps, but a part. 

But you were a grown up now, no longer a girl trying to find her way through the maze of the adult reality you found yourself thrust into. Things were going to be different this time. 

They had to be. 

May 2008, the Tuesday after prom 

“Honey?” 

You could hear the frown in your mom’s voice as you stumbled to your bedroom. 

“That you?” 

You caught yourself on the door frame. Your head was still spinning, why was it still spinning? It felt like you were going to throw up. 

“Yeah,” you managed. “Just me.” 

“You’re home early,” she said, her voice closer. “No Joel today?” 

“No,” you said, hoping you sounded normal. “No Joel today.” 

“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “Hungry? I can make you something…” 

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… tired. Going to lie down, I think.” 

You didn’t wait for a response, just going in your room and closing the door behind you. Your walls were covered in movie posters, the faces of strangers you felt like you knew through their films an odd comfort as you sat on the edge of your bed. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

That’s what he’d said. Anyone else. Anyone but you.

You weren’t sure how long you stared into space. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to go back to your life now? 

You’d never been a particularly social person - writing all the time didn’t lend itself to vibrant friendships - but Joel had been your person for almost three years. He was who you had, who you told everything to, who you wanted to do everything with. Leaving him behind was going to be the hardest part of going away to school - so hard that part of you was still in denial that it would work that way at all. Part of you thought that he’d find some way to come with you over the summer and it’d be the two of you against the world the way it seemed like it always had been. 

But he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want you. 

I wish it were anyone else. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your voice wet. 

Graduation was soon but it was still three weeks out. Three torturous weeks of being next to the person you loved most in the world when they didn’t love you, not really, not at all. 

You weren’t sure how long you stared at the wall when it occurred to you. 

You forced your body to move, joints stiff, and went to your computer, scrolling back through your email history to one from Dr. Gale Newton. An invitation to a summer creative writing workshop, one you’d decided to pass on because it meant leaving Joel months earlier. You hadn’t been ready for that before. You’d gone about checking with your counselor at school to see if it was even possible before deciding you weren’t ready for it. 

You were ready now. 

You called the number in his email signature and the phone rang twice before a woman answered. 

“Dr. Newton’s office,” she said. “This is Florence.” 

“Hi Florence,” you said, sniffing a bit, hoping it didn’t sound like you’d been crying. “Is… um… Is Dr. Newton available?” 

“I can check,” she said. “It’s a bit late in the day… Can I ask who’s calling and what this is about?” 

You gave her your name and told her that you were a candidate for the summer program. 

“Ah, right,” she said. “You were the one denial. Can’t say I remember that happening before! Let me see… yes, one moment, I’ll transfer you back.” 

It didn’t take long. Dr. Newton answered on the first ring, saying your name before you had a chance to say anything at all. 

“I was wondering if I’d get to speak with you directly,” he said. “I’ve never had a student turn down the intensive before.” 

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” you said, voice trembling a little. “I thought I had some things I needed to finish up here before I moved but, as it turns out, I can come up sooner. I was wondering if my spot would still be available?” 

“Well,” he sighed. You could hear the rustle of pages on his end. “The program did already start and you are the only incoming freshman I invited - your online portfolio was quite impressive - I wouldn’t want you to fall behind. How soon could you be here?” 

“I could be there for the start of next week’s sessions,” you said. “And I can try to keep up with some work in the mean time if you want to email me some prompts or assignments…” 

“No, no need for that,” he said. You heard the click of a mouse. “I’m going back over some of your work now, I think this will work fine for what we’re doing next week. There’s a short story here, Golden Boy, that we can workshop alongside the fresh pieces for the coming sessions.” 

You quickly clicked over to the simple blog you’d made to showcase your writing for college applications. You scrolled past one of your senior portraits and bio at the top down to the work and found the story. You couldn’t remember if you’d put the whole piece up or just parts but it was the whole piece, one you’d written about Joel. 

It’d be better if it were anyone else.

Your chest got tight. 

“Perfect,” you said. “That’s great, thank you so, so much…” 

“I hope to see some more dedication out of you when you arrive here,” he said, voice a little more stern now. “I reviewed your portfolio personally and you show a lot of promise but so does every student who comes through this program. If you’re not willing to make sacrifices and work for it, I can’t help you hone that raw skill into what it has the potential to become.” 

“I understand,” you said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you think I need…” 

“I’m willing to work with you one on one,” he said. “Get you caught up over the next few weeks, both because you missed some of the intensive but because you haven’t had any classes here yet. It’s going to be a lot of time and a lot of effort but I’m happy to put in the work if you’re willing to do the same. I expect you to be devoted to this program, do you think you can do that?” 

“Yes sir,” you said. “Absolutely.” 

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll email you my personal cell phone number, call me there when you get to town. I’ll make sure you get set up in your dorm and we can get to work. Sound good?” 

“Yes,” you said, your eyes falling on a picture of you and Joel laughing on his couch that glared at you from its place next to your computer monitor. You turned it to face the wall. “Yes it does.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: So we now know at least SOME of Bambi's side of the story. Not the whole of it yet but some!

What do you think? Teenaged overreaction? Totally makes sense? Neither? Both?

Also... I hope you caught that Gale had a picture of her before he met her and picked up on how much he'd selected her to be a pupil of particular interest from the get go. He's so slimy. Or, I hope he comes off that way, anyway. He's slimy in my head, at least!

Thank you, as always, for reading. I hope you're enjoying the ride as Joel and Goldie navigate their tangled friendship!

Love you!!!

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Winter Wolf - Chapter 1

Winter Wolf Master List

Warnings: Mentions of violence, use of Y/N

Length: 956

A/N: Hi! Here's Ch. 1 of Winter Wolf, I don't think I'll always put a/n on the chapters because I have most of them already written out. I am going to keep the same schedule that I use on AO3 and only update every 2 weeks!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You regret waking up this morning. Don't get it wrong, you love working with the Avengers. But you hate the constant bickering and fighting.

"You were supposed to go left!" Sam yells at Bucky.

"How was I supposed to know that!?"

"Because it is in every single action movie!"

"Boys!" You yell at them.

They look at you. "What!?"

"I'm going to let the yelling at me slide, but we are on a mission! Can the bickering wait until after the mission?" You give them a sharp look.

The boys roll their eyes but they continue to take out the oncoming Hydra operatives.

"It's clear on my end." You voice through the comms.

"I think Bucky could use some help." Sam chimes in.

You look over at Bucky when he suddenly gets knocked into an electrical panel. He tries to move his arm but it looks like it was fried.

"I can handle it, Sam!" Bucky yells.

You ignore Bucky and take out the Hydra worker. First a punch to the head, then you swept your leg under his. He falls to the ground and doesn't get back up.

You offer your hand to Bucky but he doesn't take it. "I told you I could take care of myself, Doll."

"I know, but it was fun." You smile at him while he gets up.

Something hits the back of your head and you fall forward. You roll over and see the same Hydra soldier standing above you with a metal pipe in his hand. He grabs your ankles and starts to drag you out of the building.

Before he could do anything else, Bucky tackles him. He punches him a few times before getting up to help you.

"Are you ok, Doll?"

"I told you I had him." You throw his words back at him.

"I know, but it was fun." He smirks at you. "Seriously, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" You touch the back of your head and flinch. "Ok, I may have a concussion or something, but I'm fine."

Bucky smiles at you before he leaves to make sure that the area is secure.

You and the rest of the Avengers finish the mission and head back to the compound in the Quinjet. Once you all get back to your rooms, shower, and get some fresh clothes, Tony calls you all in for a meeting.

"Good job tonight team."

"It would have gone better if Y/N didn't almost get kidnapped." Bucky looks at you.

You snort. "You're one to talk. Your arm short-circuited and I had to go save your ass."

Sam laughs. "She has a point, Buck."

Bucky looks at Sam. "Don't call me that."

"But Steve calls you that." Sam points at Steve who is sitting in the corner of the room.

"I've known him since we were kids." Bucky rolls his eyes at Sam before looking at you. "But all jokes aside, you did really well Y/N. You're even getting better at combat."

"Of course she is." Natasha gets up from her seat to stand next to you. She wraps her arm around your neck with a smile. "I'm training her."

"Alright. We still have some more missions to go on, but for now, we're done for the week." Tony says. You look at your phone and realize that it's Thursday. "We'll have a party tomorrow night and then you guys can take the weekend off. I'm having Friday get some last-minute details for the oncoming missions."

Tony dismisses the team and you all head to your rooms. You get in the elevator with Steve, Bucky, and Sam. They were all going to play a game of pool on the floor above yours.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Steve asks you.

"Oh, I think I'm going to go see a movie."

"With your secret boyfriend?" Sam asks.

"Yes, with the secret boyfriend." You laugh.

You have been working with the Avengers for years but you have refused to disclose your romantic relationships with them. They mean well, but they become overprotective to the point that a relationship is impossible without them tagging along. The only time they knew about a boyfriend was when you first joined 5 years ago.

You had already been dating Jackson for a couple of months before you were recruited into the Avengers. Almost instantly they drove him away. Whenever Jackson would come around, the group wouldn't leave you guys alone. Thor would put Mjölnir on Jackson's things, knowing the mortal would not be able to do anything about it. Steve would try to be nice but he would just end up being awkward. Tony would just be... well, Tony. Natasha and Clint would be nice but gossip loud enough for Jackson to hear. Similar to Tony, Sam would just be himself. Bucky would always be in his room but when he wasn’t, he would be brooding in the corner of the room and make Jackson feel uncomfortable. The only people who didn't do anything were Wanda, Vision, and Bruce.

"So what will you guys be seeing?" Steve asks you.

"Probably an action movie," Sam laughs at his own innuendo.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes. “We’ll probably watch a comfort movie because it’s been a long week.”

“Oh, I loved Snow White!” Steve smiles at Bucky. “Do you remember when we first saw it?”

“You mean when we snuck into the movie theater and got kicked out almost immediately?”

“Captain America got kicked out of a movie theater?!” Sam asks excitedly.

You roll your eyes at them and the elevator opens to your floor.

"I'll see you, boys, later." And with that, you walk out of the elevator.

[twistedminutia]

for a topic, maybe you could talk about the discrimination on earth vs. discrimination in twst? like ableism, racism/half-breeds, magiclessness, etc.

I could maybe do a topic on discrimination- I will say here that this is something I really want to tread carefully on. I don’t have an issue discussing magiclessness and maybe half-human discrimination, but I would feel a bit weird discussing ableism. I’m a physically able-bodied person, and this isn’t to say able-bodied people can’t comment on ableism, but I don’t feel comfortable turning a serious, real-world issue into a fun little chapter in my ‘let’s discuss the differences between Twisted Wonderland and Earth’ fic.

For similar reasons, I don’t feel comfortable discussing the pandemic in my fic- it’s a topic I’ve had requested before, but to me, it isn’t something that feels appropriate to bring up. I’m okay with serious topics, but I don’t feel comfortable writing in reference to recent and specific real world events, much in the same way I think it would be odd to bring up, say, the Black Lives Matter protests. I don’t know if it’s always bad to do that, but it’s at least something I don’t feel comfortable with.

In terms of magiclessness and half-humans, the main barrier to writing those is just that we don’t have a good idea of how those things are treated in canon. So far, the game hasn’t addressed what Sebek faced growing up. It’s implied there might have been discrimination, and his grandfather wasn’t happy, but nothing is ever shown for sure, and I like to keep things generally canon-compliant. In the case of beastmen/merfolk/humans having kids with each other, we’ve never even seen that happen in game. No character whose parents we’ve seen/heard about ever indicates a parent that doesn’t match them in species, excepting Lilia and Silver via adoption. This could mean that there would be discrimination against those relationships since they are, apparently, rare, but it could also mean nothing, since we’re pulling from the small sample size of ‘NRC students we know about.’ No one ever mentions there being pressure to marry your own kind as it were, so we have no idea if discrimination on that level exists.

As for magiclessness being discriminated against… is it? Trey confirms in a vignette that magicless people make up a majority of the non-fae population. Yuu might get teased or pushed aside for not having magic at NRC, but that location is an outlier. It’s literally a school that only accepts powerful mages. If Yuu got dropped in the middle of a random town somewhere, chances are they would face little to no discrimination because they would be normal. The only other indication we get of possible non-mage discrimination is Deuce stating that in his delinquent years, he used to use his magic against non-mages. Which could be discrimination, but it could also be he just used any tools he had at his disposal, magic being one of them. We’re not sure if his gang was only magic kids beating up non mages or if they were mixed and he used his magic to help out. I have a chapter going up in a bit about how mages had been an oppressed class at one point due to a lack of understanding about blot, though mages also seems to control all the major monarchies we know about, so they aren’t an oppressed class now. All this to say: we don’t know magicless people are oppressed and it’s likely they aren’t.

There might be some interspecies discrimination between beast people? From what I recall, Ruggie mentions getting shit on for being a hyena, but I can’t say for sure.

Basically, to sum it up, I don’t mind writing about discrimination in topics that are Twisted Wonderland exclusive, but I’m not going to tackle issues that are still prevalent in the real world. I just don’t think it’s appropriate for my fic.

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : COACH HARLOW

A/N : Thanks to my bby @harlowsbby for this beautiful idea. I hope I did it justice 💜 & to @harlowcomehome for always reassuring me about my writing because I was doubting this one bad.

Today was an exciting day, it was the 4th annual kickball tournament of The Homies, and your husband was going to join in on the fun.

The kids were also excited about it, it’s all they’ve been talking about non stop since they found out, even asking if they could be on the team and play.

You were finishing up getting EZ dressed so you can meet Jack at the stadium. “Momma, is daddy wearing shirt like me?”

You nod, tying his New Balance shoes “Yess baby, even the same shoes.”

“Yay, we gonna be twinsies.”

“Cheesy, you need to get a hat because daddy is wearing that too.” Mia announces as she’s making her way inside the bedroom. “Oh and some shades.”

“Momma, I don’t have hats or shades.” He gasps.

You smile at him, “Don’t worry baby, daddy called me saying he’s got you covered with that. Now let’s head out.”

**********

“Mommy.” Mia giggles. “Look at nino Urby, he’s all tanned and his shorts are really, really short.”

You look ahead and find Urban standing next to Cole and Jack, and Mia was indeed correct. “He’s just like your father, being out in the sun too much will get them all burned quickly.”

“But daddy is really pale, like his shirt, momma.”

“EZEQUIEL.” You laugh. “You’re correct but still don’t say that to him.”

Mia nods “Come on Cheesy, let’s go annoy uncle Ace and Shloob.” She takes a hold of her brothers hand and they run off.

Jack spots you and smiles at you and starts jogging your way.

“Well you look hot.” You tell him as soon as he’s in front of you. “My kids are somewhere around bothering their uncles. Do you want to sneak off somewhere before my husband notices??”

Jack rolls his eyes, pulling you in. “Role play only in bed.” He gives you a quick kiss. “Those were your words if I recall correctly.”

You shrug and tug at his KY necklace. “You know I’m a mess when you wear this chain.”

“Yeah, that’s why I wore it.”

“Mhmm.” You look at him up and down. “I love that the jerseys have your foundation logo.”

“You did good by suggesting it.”

“I know, you should listen to your wife more.” You smirk.

“Don’t I always?” He raises his eyebrows but before you could answer him, your two children were tackling their father to the ground.

You can’t help but smile and admire them, Jack really is a great father and you couldn’t be more thankful for him.

“Daddy, I need hat and shades like yours so we can be twinems.”

“Neelam has that for you little man.” Jack stands up from the ground, the kids attached to him like some koalas. “You guys want to learn how to play?”

EZ nods excitedly, while Mia pulls away and stands in front of her father, raising her eyebrows at him. “Isn’t it just kicking the ball and running around?”

You can’t help but let out a little chuckle at Jack’s offended look on his face. “Not exactly.” He signals Urban to throw him the ball.

“So this is what you do.” Jacks starts, earning a groan from his oldest, but an excited shriek from his youngest.

After thirty minutes of Jack explaining to the kids how kickball works, he’s ready to let them have a little practice game with the guys.

“Remember Mia, you kick the ball from the side of your foot, not the front.”

That has her groaning, “Dad, I thought that was for soccer.”

Everyone chuckles, which causes Mia to glare at all of her uncles and her dad. “It’s not even funny, so I don’t know why you’re all laughing.”

“Damn, she’s a feisty little seven year old huh?” Cole asks Jack

“Oh, you have no idea.” Jack smiles, nodding.

“Daddy, can we play now?” Ezequiel asks.

“Yeah, you’re up first little man.”

Urban rolls the ball towards Ezequiel and to your surprise he ends up kicking it really far and and hard.

“RUN EZ”

“GO GO GO.”

“HELL YEAH LITTLE MAN.”

“HE GETS THAT KICK FROM ME.” Urban yells the last part.

Jack rolls his eyes “Keep thinking that.”

Ezequiel makes it to third base and does a little shake of his body to celebrate his success. “Your turn Mia bug.” He yells to his sister.

“Nino Urb, not too hard okay?”

Urban nods, “I got you princess.” He tosses the ball towards Mia but she misses and doesn’t kick it. “It’s okay, you get three tries.”

“Throw it straight, you’re throwing it to the side and I’m right here.” Mia grumbles out.

“Keep your eyes on the ball Mia.” Jack yells.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

You chuckle but not loud enough that she can hear you. “Mia, está bien mami, tú puedes.”

She turns to look at you, pouting “Pero se están riendo de mí.”

“Guys, can you please not laugh? She’s trying her best.”

“Mia, I’m tossing it slower this time okay?” Urban yells.

Mia nods and waits for the ball to be a foot closer so she can kick it. “YES” she yells as she sees that she ended up kicking it and tries to run to second base but she ends up kicking the ball straight into Urban’s hands.

“MIA YOU’RE OUT.” Nemo yells.

You, Jack and Urban glare at him, while Mia stops mid run and sees Urban drop the ball immediately.

“UGH I DON’T WANNA PLAY ANYMORE.” She stomps her way towards you and hugs your legs. “Nino Urby, why did you catch it? And Nemo, you are annoying.”

Urban smiles sadly at her “I didn’t catch it, you have good aim that you kicked it into my hands bug.” You know he’s lying but you’re not about to make your daughter feel worse.

“Daddy, I hate this game and I don’t want to play.”

“She’s competitive like you, Jackman.” Cole adds.

Jack starts jogging his way towards you and Mia once he notices that she really is frustrated and got her feelings hurt about the game.

Jack kneels in front of her “Mia, baby?”

“Hmm?” Is all she mutters out, scrubbing at her eyes.

“You and I are the same, you know?” He stands up and holds Mia to him. “We both love to win and we hate when the game doesn’t go our way, but we have to realize that at the end of the day, it’s just a game and we should enjoy the time with our loved ones, just running around and laughing.”

“But daddy, what’s the fun in that? I want to win.”

You and Jack share a smile because you’ve heard him say those exact words more than you can count. “The fun is being with family.”

Mia sighs, “I guess. But is it okay if I just watch?” She looks behind Jack, towards the field “Plus, I think Cheesy is the sporty one, he did really well.”

Jack smiles, “You did too, baby.”

She rolls her eyes, “Thank you for being nice.” she taps his shoulder signaling him to let her down. “Now go win, me and mommy will be cheering you on.”

“You got it Mia.” They do their little handshake and Mia watches her dad run off towards the middle of the field where her brother and uncles were.

Mia crosses her arms, looking towards the field, then back at you with raised eyebrows. “Mommy, can we get wings and icey? It’s gonna be a long day seeing these silly boys run around in a triangle.”

You smile, and fix your sunglasses. “Yes let’s go, I’m dying in this heat.”

“How much you wanna bet daddy and uncles are gonna loose?”

You gasp, “Mia, we’re supposed to be cheering them on.”

She shrugs, “We will, but I know and you know that they’ll lose.”

“You are evil, young lady.” You shake your head.

“I get it from my daddy.” She smiles.

************

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