#i've been looking out for him THIS WHOLE TIME

[ellecdc]

okay but what about when a puck goes flying wild and hits medic!reader square in the face (talking concussion, wound, blood, bruise, whatever u feel like) and her whole team goes crazy both in terms of protectiveness of her but also confusion bc what do we do without our favourite medic??? (can be in the remus hockey player or pt universe, anything u feel like luv)

is there a bug in my wall? how do you know this is EXACTLY what I've been daydreaming about????? I demand answers! (thank youuuuu for the request)

hockey player!Remus Lupin x team medic!reader who's a real member of the team [2k words]

part 1 | part two | part 3

CW: injury, angry Swedes, writers distaste for her home team (of which she cheers for), Scandinavian's beefing with each other but it's in good fun

Remus was certain the game clock was moving in slow motion, or that whoever was in charge of it forgot to hit play a few times when the play would continue. He needed this game to be over. 

He needed to get you you.

The entire game had been frustratingly slow; both teams scored one goal in the first period, and then nothing happened in the entire second period. A fight broke out at the beginning of the third, but then it seemed like they were back to nothing happening.

That is, until the worst thing happened.

The Leafs were lining up for a goal in the Lion’s zone with a one man advantage due to Fenwick’s tripping penalty. Grönvall, Dearborn, Nadeau, and Potter were on the ice for the penalty kill, blocking shots for Krum with various parts of their bodies that Remus was sure was going to result in wicked bruises.

Matthews had the puck behind the net, sending it up the boards towards Nylander, Nylander passed it to Rielly who quickly tipped it to Marner, Marner passed it back to Matthews who was now in front of the net, back to Marner who went to pass it to Ekman-Larson, but Nylander reached forward with his stick at the last minute; the puck had been travelling too fast and simply tipped off of Nylander’s stick, ricocheting towards the Lion’s bench.

The Lions - who had been watching the puck - ducked. 

You - who had been watching Nadeau who was now limping after blocking a particularly nasty shot with his knee - didn’t see it coming. 

The puck hit you right in the face.

Your head whipped to the side in surprise before you all but fell from where you were standing on the bench. 

The play stopped, but that was on account of the puck being out of play and not on account that a member of the team - the most important member of the team, if you asked Remus - was down. 

“I’m fine.” You hissed at everybody - the players on the bench, the players on the ice, the coaching staff - who had called your name. But you had your face in your hands, were kneeling on the wet rubber floor, and your voice came out pinched.

“Y/N.” Remus barked, suddenly feeling breathless even though he’d not been on the ice, unable to push through the other players on the bench to get to you. 

Lars - the team's PT - placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and bent down beside you, and Remus was struck with how much this looked like how you cared for the players when you met them on the ice. Head low, soft murmurs so that no one else could hear, and a comforting hand. 

“Stay out here for the team, in case they need you.” Your response came muffled from behind your hands, and you quickly stood and took off down the tunnel towards the locker room alone. 

Remus only registered the sound of whistles being blown then, James having clearly chirped at one of the Toronto players, earning him a shove from Rielly before Grönvall, Nylander, Dearborn, and Marner paired off, too.

“That should be a fucking delay of game!” James barked at the ref who was shoving him towards the Lion’s bench (and away from Rielly’s jugular). 

“I heard ya the first time, Potter.” The referee grumbled as James got off the ice. 

“Fan har du glömt hur fan man siktar på det jävla nätet, Nylander?” (translation: did you fucking forget how to aim for the damn net) Remus spat as he watched number 88 skate towards the Toronto bench.

“Kukhuvud.” (translation: dickhead) Nylander muttered back as he stepped off the ice.

“That’s enough, number 10.” The ref barked warningly at Remus. 

Remus did not think that was enough, however, and looked over at the Toronto bench only to find the team medic giving some instruction to their PT before disappearing down their own tunnel, and Remus felt his heart unclench slightly. 

He sincerely hoped he was going to check on you.

Remus wondered if he should do the same.

“Lupin, Black, Trenholm; you’re on.” Coach barked, and Remus tried to breath around his panic as he pushed himself over the boards and lined up for the face off. 

“Loops, the more times the whistle needs to be blown, the longer it’s going to take to get back to the locker room.” James whispered to Remus as they repositioned for another face off.

“Unless you’re trying to get kicked out of the game for a misconduct.” Sirius added breezily from his other side. “Then you’re on the right track.” 

“Do not get any penalties or injuries.” James continued severely. “She cannot help you right now and you’ll be of no help to her.”

Remus let out a groan and playfully shoved his two line mates away from him. “Okay, Cap. Don’t have to be so damn reasonable all the time.” 

“Isn’t he the worst?” Sirius chuckled, though Remus knew he was likely glad James talked Remus down.  

And it was only once Remus stopped going for blood and focused more on ending the fucking game - which required one more goal so as not to go into overtime - did the clock finally start running down. 

Fenwick ended up tipping in a shot from Sirius with only 30 seconds left of the third, and since Remus was getting off and knew he wouldn’t be needed in the last 29 seconds of the game, he stepped off the ice and completely bypassed the bench as he made for the locker room. 

“Y/N?” Remus called as he made it to the empty locker room. “Doc?” 

He checked the exam room which was empty before checking the dark room next.

After knocking gently and without waiting for a response, Remus pushed the door open to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, eyes closed and face pointed to the ceiling as you held an ice pack to your cheek. 

“Baby.” 

“Is the game over?” You asked then, turning to look at him and basically ripping his heart right out of his chest when he noticed the drying tear tracks on your face. 

Before Remus could respond, the sound of the arena horn blared signalling the end of the game. 

“Yes, the game is over.”

“Did we win?”

Remus forced a laugh out as he took off all the equipment he could manage; his gloves, helmet, his jersey, followed by his elbow pads and finally his shoulder pads, leaving him in only his underarmour on his top half. “Of course we won, lovie. Think we were gonna let them get away with that?”

You tried to smile at him, but the deep sigh that left your lungs told him it was just for show.

“My poor girl.” He cooed as he reached for the ice you were holding to your face. “What happened, hm? Let me see.”

You released your hold on the ice pack that Remus gently pulled away to expose your cheek; already mottled and blooming with deep, bruising colours. It had even broken the skin, though it seemed that it was shallow enough to only require a piece of medical tape slapped over it. 

“Den jävlan.” (translation: that fucker) Remus muttered under his breath. “I can’t believe he did this to you.”

Your brows furrowed at Remus’ words but you didn’t get a chance to respond when the sounds from the locker room permeated the dark room. 

“Loops, is doc-” ‘in here?’ was left unsaid when Remus turned to see Sirius standing in the doorway with Isak and Benjy behind him, exposing your form huddled on the ground. 

“Doc.” Benjy whined, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Isak and a reproachful shushing from Sirius. 

“Concussion protocol, Fenny.” Sirius hissed at him, earning him a quiet laugh from you which Remus was eternally grateful for.

“Does anyone need me?” You asked quietly, causing all four boys to shout (albeit quietly) various protests. 

“I think these fuckers can manage to tape up their own jammed fingers for one game, yeah?” Benjy offered. 

“Lars can help, too.” Isak agreed.

“There ya have it doc, your job has been made obsolete!” Sirius cheered. “You’re welcome.” 

“Alright, alright. Get out of here.” Remus grumbled with no real ire, letting out a breath of relief when the sounds from the locker room faded away when the door was shut behind them. 

“Were you looked at?” He asked you then, repositioning the ice to your cheek as he cupped the opposite side of your face with his free hand. 

“Yeah. The Toronto medic checked me out.”

“Concussion?”

“Probably.” 

Remus made a sympathetic tsking sound as he pulled the ice back from your face as if expecting the bruising to have gone down in the last 15 seconds. “I hate this.”

“What? My face?” You tried to tease. 

“No.” Remus denied, shooting you an exasperated look. “What he’s done to your face.” 

“It was a puck, Rem.” You chided. “It happens.”

“But not to you.”

“This is how I feel when you get hurt, you know.” You pointed out to him, even lifting one of your eyebrows expectantly at him.

Remus groaned. “But it’s supposed to happen to me.”

“It’s hockey. Now I’m just a real member of the team.”

Remus tilted his head as he smiled at you. “You’ve always been a member of the team, doc.” He assured you. “The prettiest member, at that.”

You hummed in appreciation as he moved his hand down the column of your neck; touch gentle and reverent as you tilted your head back against the wall.

“Don’t let Black hear you say that.” 

Remus tried to control his laughter, he really did, but he couldn’t help the surprised bark that bubbled up at your words. “You know, I think he may feel bad enough to bestow the title to you.”

“You think?” You asked then, tilting your head into his hand that was holding the ice pack. 

“Positive.” He promised, smiling at you in semi-content silence before tsking pathetically at you again. “My poor sweet girl; what do you need, hm? What can I do?” 

You looked at him for a long moment; eyes darting across his face and pupils perhaps a bit too wide considering what just happened that threatened to make Remus’ protective ire return to its former boil from its current simmer when you came to some decision.

“Can you go shower?”

“Shower?” He asked disbelievingly, noticing you turn somewhat bashful.

“Please?” 

“Yeah, you smell and you’re getting sweat all over our gorgeous medic.” James offered quietly as he slowly closed the door behind him; donned in his team hoodie and a pair of sweats, hair still dripping from the shower he just got out of and his contacts traded for his usual glasses as he moved across the room to sit beside you against the wall. “I’ve got it from here, Loops, but you’ll want to be quick; Grönvall knows doc has a thing for Swedes now, I may not be able to fight him off for long.”

James looked so earnest as he said it that the way his face melted at the sound of your laughter made Remus’ love for his teammate and captain increase tenfold; heart threatening to burst from his chest.

“Okay?” He asked you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then to your uninjured cheek, and then to the tip of your nose before placing one on your lips. “You’ll be okay with Cap? Think you can manage?”

“I’ll do my best.” You responded, your soft smile growing cheeky at the sound of James’ scoff, though your one eye twitched as you winced. “Fuck my face hurts.”

“Get out of here, Loops. You’re making her smile and hurting her face.” James scolded. 

“Alright, alright. Just don’t leave me for Grönvall.” Remus insisted as he pressed one more kiss to your head before he stood and began walking towards the door. “I mean it; the only thing worse than a Norwegian or a Dane is another Swede.”

[lebensmudewing]

This is worse

Trigger warning: birthing fetish

My birth video ended up on a fetish subreddit because of my husband

Throwaway. Although my husband will probably see this here anyway. Maybe this can be the conversation starter?? I don't know! I just need to get this out somewhere and have people validate that my feelings aren't crazy!

I'm sorry if this is all over the place. I am a mess.

My (F33) husband (M36) is the most wonderful and caring person I've ever met in my life. I thought. Almost overbearingly sweet. He's always concerned with how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, how is my mental health. He's an excellent father to our two children as well.

I had a difficult birth with my first child. My hospital experience was bad. I felt traumatized afterwards. When I got pregnant with my second, I knew that, barring any issues, I wanted a homebirth. My husband was all for it. He's a nurse, so I felt doubly safe with him plus my midwife to support me.

The midwife filmed and we also had a professional photographer taking pictures. Everything went great. It was so emotional and beautiful. I'm trying not to give too many details away since it's apparently available to ANYONE for their viewing pleasure right now.

I have been pretty possessive of that birth tape. I never uploaded it anywhere. After I downloaded it onto my computer from our camera's sim card, I uploaded it to a USB, deleted it off my computer, and I keep it in a little "hope chest" to watch when I'm feeling sentimental. It is so beautiful and important to me, and I wasn't interested in sharing it. I have several friends who put their whole birth on YouTube, but I wasn't interested in doing that. My birth didn't need to be shared with the world. It didn't need to be a teaching moment. It didn't need to exist to make others feel better. After my traumatic first birth, it was mine and i cherished it.

My husband didn't feel the same way and sometimes had light arguments with me about it. He was never pushy, but several times, when I would watch it, he would comment "this is such an excellent birth video! You are so happy and calm! I really think you should post this. Homebirths get such a bad rep and this could put so many women at ease." I would tell him absolutely not. This is private. Stop pestering me about it. Its my body. He eventually dropped it and hasn't brought it up since.

My husband and I have never been controlling. We don't have the passwords to each other's phones. I've never felt the need to check each other's phones or computers. I trust him implicitly. Well. I did anyway. I know he has a reddit. We both reddit pretty often. But i don't know his profile or what he does on here. Idk I've just never thought about it.

A few days ago, I was in one of my parenting subreddits and came across a disturbing thread about birth videos getting posted nonconsenually in a birth fetish subreddit. I thought to myself, that is exactly the reason I didn't want to post my birth video. The commenter posted the link to the fetish sub and I'll admit curiosity got the better of me and I went to look. I wanted to know if any of my friends videos wound up there so that I could tell them.

Well their videos DID wind up there. Every single one. The sub has several vast g drives linked to birth videos. But then I saw it. MY FUCKING BIRTH VIDEO. It looked like it had been a YouTube video at one point?? Idk I don't understand how this works. I cant find it on youtube anywhere, so idk. I'm so fucking ashamed and horrified. There is a closeup of...well EVERYTHING down there in a fucking fetish site. My baby taking his first breaths. Me breastfeeding. It doesn't even cut off after the birth. It shows my baby getting weighed, and just...held. If this is a birth fetish sub, why does it feature so much of just...my CHILD. This seems like waaayyyy more than just a birth fetish thing. Idek how to report the video.I reported the post and reddit says it doesn't violate anything.

I am bawling as I type this. Like wtf. Only ONE person knows where that tape is: my fucking husband. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him.

"Hey did you fucking violate my privacy and post OUR BABY'S BIRTH ONLINE, or did you submit it straight to a fetish site, because that's where it is right now."

I don't know what to do. I can't believe I even have to have this discussion. Wtf even if he didn't submit that video straight to the fetish site, he uploaded it somewhere else where they found it, and now his actions have led to THIS situation. He exposed ME to perverts online. He exposed our newborn infant to perverts online!!!

Our marriage will NOT survive this and I am a wreck. I should have known he had SICK intentions when he was being so weird about wanting me to post this. WHY? WHY WOULD HE DO THIS?? I'm not even that angry about those sickos seeing me, but every time I think of my sweet little baby's face in there...I feel like I'm going to throw up. Surely this is illegal?? Surely newborn babies can't be featured in content that people are...sexualizing!!! Can they?? I'm also just....absolutely gutted by the fact that so many other women have had this special moment bastardized by that sub. How many of them are in my shoes? Or my friends shoes. I'm horrified. Do I press charges against my husband?? I can't believe this is how my family is going to end. What will I even tell people. What will I tell my kids!!? Idek what to do!!

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update: just a quick update. I left and took the kids to my mom's house. Idk how long we'll be here. I didn't tell my husband anything. I just wanted to get the kids the fuck away from him. Even if he didn't share that video directly with those creeps, I don't want him around them.

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update to: birth video in a fetish subreddit

I just...need to vent I guess. This isn't a happy update.

As I mentioned in my last post, I went over to my mom's house. She was bewildered about why I was there. I couldn't fess up to the reason why I was so upset. I am still so embarrassed. I didn't want her to go looking for the damn video either. Thinking of my mom searching around a porn sub to find my BIRTH VIDEO made my skin crawl. I was hysterical. Still am. I couldn't really hide that. I just told her something bad had happened and we needed to stay for awhile. I'm going to have to tell her, but every time I think about doing it, I just start crying more. The situation is even more complicated now, so I'm just scared people will be mad at me for doing what I'm doing, even my own mom.

My husband called and texted over and over for hours. We haven't spent a night apart in years. I gave him no warning. I texted him once and said we were visiting my mom and would be back later, but that I needed a break. I was worried he'd call the police, but he didn't. He continued to text sporadically, pleading with me to talk with him about what was wrong.

I went back over to our house the next day around the time I figured he'd be off work. I took one of my mom's old phones and used it to record our whole interaction. Turns out he'd called out of work he was so distressed. He ran up to me and immediately started asking what was wrong, asking where the kids were etc. He was SO understandably upset. Seeing him like that just made me start crying too. When I started crying, he started crying. He tried to hug me and I stepped away which just made him more upset. It was such a mess. I was finally able to compose myself enough to ask him to watch a video on my phone. He was confused. More so when he realized it was my birth video. A few minutes in, he interrupted to ask why I was showing him. I ended the video, and a hundred other birth videos in the g file folder appeared. He still just looked confused. I exited the folder and pointed to the name of the sub I was in. He took my phone for a better look and I just started  bawling and bawling. After a few minutes, he started raging about how we needed to mass report the post and call the FBI and blah blah blah. He kept repeating "we'll fix this. Holy fuck. This is so sick." I tried to get his attention by asking "how did they get that video?" But he just kept pacing around ranting. I just started repeating over and over "how did they get it!?" Until I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He eventually stopped and just stared at me. Neither of us said anything for a long time.

He started crying and told me that he had started a "Daddy Blog" a year after our first was born. He posted about being a dad and eventually about his experience with my second pregnancy. He had posted the video on youtube to link to his blog. He felt like there wasnt enough resources out there for dads regarding pregnancy. He didn't know I didn't want it posted until a week or two after baby was here and I was so vehement about not posting it and getting it tucked securely away on a usb. It was up for about TEN fucking months before he finally took it down. He was waiting to see if I changed my mind, and was reluctant to remove it because he'd received so many messages from thankful dads about how educational and helpful his blog/vlogging was. I had 0 knowledge about this blog. I didnt even know people blogged anymore?? We had both expressed many times how we didn't want to create a massive digital footprint for our children because of SITUATIONS JUST LIKE FUCKING THIS, so I this is such a fucking weird surprise. There's hundreds of pictures of our family on this thing.

Anyway, we got into a huge argument about how this was a breech of trust and privacy. He maintained that he thought my reaction about not wanting the video posted was over the top, and how I never told him I didn't want to share it, how he didn't even think of it as a big deal because he deals with that kind of thing every day so it was just not a big deal to him and blah blah blah. His excuses were stupid and I don't care. My birth wound up on a fetish subreddit because of him and we are getting a divorce.

When I told him it was over, we had another big screaming match. He went through several different emotions. Crying, wailing, begging, and finally anger. I hadn't said ANYTHING about custody arrangements, or my plans besides divorce, but he started threatening full custody and how he was going to put up a huge fight, how it would just be "he said/she said," how he has the better job, etc. Whatever. I didn't tell him I recorded anything (legal in our state). I eventually just walked out.

So yeah. That's where I'm at today. I need to consult with a lawyer about what comes next. I am moving as quickly as I possibly can. Sitting down to write this update was probably a stupid move, but I received SO many heartfelt messages from people concerned for me that it felt necessary. I honestly just...needed to vent and have people tell me I'm not crazy or awful for doing what I'm doing. I told a few friends, and they all just seem...weird. They're concerned about the videos I found in the fetish group, but nobody has reassured me that I'm making the right moves in regards to the situation.

I am in an incredibly bad place right now. I'm worried I'm making the wrong decision. Do i let him see the kids?? I don't know what to tell my family. I don't know if i need to contact the police. I don't know if i want to. The most stupid part of me wishes I could call my best friend and talk to him about it, but uh...yeah I'm divorcing him. What a stupid feeling to miss him so badly and knowing that I will never be with him again. I just keep thinking that I'm doing something stupid, and i feel like so many people will see it that way.

On top of everything, my birth video is just...in a fucking fetish sub. Every time I think about that, I get choked up. I've reported it a million times in just the few days since I posted. I've made alts to try and report. I've had friends report. My other friends,with their birth videos ALSO posted non-consenually in there, have tried reporting. It doesn't matter. I sent the link to the FBI. It doesn't even really matter anyway. They're g drives. If the post got removed, if the whole sub was removed, my video is still in the possession of some sicko using it for fap material. My baby's sweet little face in there...I am sick. I am defeated.

They have a post up in the sub about how their previous group was removed because of pedophile content. No shit. No fucking shit. Your fetish inherently involves children. They ask that "karens" please leave them alone now. They acknowledge that pedophiles lurk in their sub, yet continue to steal content with children in it for sexual purposes. I do not understand how something like this is legal. I don't know how many other dark places on the internet my video has ended up.

The most special moment of my life is now just this fucking smear of shit all because I decided to try and capture it for memory's  sake. Something that was supposed to bring me unending joy, now leaves me weeping. I keep looking at my sweet toddler and just...breaking down. He didn't deserve this. I wish I could go back and never have recorded that video. I took my USB and fucking smashed it into a million pieces just to feel like I did something. I am tired.

There's not going to be another update for awhile. I am in a very dark place.

Link

he needs to die

[monimccoythings]

Double Trouble

I'm just saying that Wolverines have litters of two-three cubs or so I've heard. This poor man wasn't ready. While I work on my other wips I'll release this short drabble to the world.

tags: slight ooc!Logan (he freaks out a bit), pregnancy fic, f!reader, happy ending.

Twins.

The word repeated itself over and over in his head like a broken record.

You were having twins.

He stared at the screen in utter silence, looking like a fucking idiot. Twins. Two whole ass babies. Two more new additions to the family. He blinked quickly, several times, still not completely processing the news.

It all made sense now, why you looked bigger than the average pregnant woman, why he had heard more than two heartbeats and had rushed you towards the ER thinking that maybe there was something wrong with your hearts.

Fucking hell. He had already mentally prepared himself for one baby, how was he going to manage two?? He was barely an adequate father for Laura, how would he manage with two new babies?? What if he wasn't good enough? What if he was a terrible father? What if they hated him? Whay if YOU hated him? He wouldn't be able to live with that.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, someone was calling his name, but the voice looked so far away and drowned by the constant ringing in his ears. The hand shaked his shoulder and he looked up at your face. So pretty, so sweet, his little wife.

She looks concerned.

No.

He doesn't want you concerned. It's not good for the babies. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be dragged into his pity party. You were too good for him.

"Logan, it's is going to be okay, alright? I'm here." Your mouth was forming words, but he could barely comprehend them. Had you always smelled so sweet? So enciting? The light from the fluorescent tube was enveloping you like a halo.

Your hand moved from his broad shoulder to his cheek, he found himself leaning into it. He always found confort in your touch, so soft and warm.

"Babe, I know you're scared." He opened his mouht to argue. "No, listen. I know this was unexpected, fuck I'm freaking out myself; we didn't plan for this Logan. But we will pull through together, like always." You gave him your sweetest smile, despite being terrified yourself. He could smell it on you.

Logan gave you a lopsided smile, or at least he tried to. His large hand covered yours. For a couple of seconds it was the two, no, four of you, all alone against the world.

He had always thought of himself as undeserving of love, happy endings weren't made for him. He either outlived them or drove them away. But now, now he had a chance. He could grow as old as he could with you, raise your kids in peace. No one would go after you, no threat against mutantkind would rip you away.

Two, three, four babies, who cared? As terrifying as that sounded he had been given this gift and he got to share it with you. He would manage, you would manage, as you two always did.

His breaths became steadier, much more calm than they had been moments before. Logan's eyes went downwards, to your belly, which was the current home of your future kids. Just the thought of watching them grow and develop filled him with a warm feeling barely known to him.

He didn't know why, but he was sure everything would be alright.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

"Dad," Jake begins, shuffling a bit from foot to foot.

Uh-no, he thinks. He can pinpoint how worried Jake is by the mixture of movement, tone of his voice, and inability to look him in the eye. Did someone die?!

"Yes Jake," he says, giving him his full attention -- earnest and soft.

"Dad, I... have something to tell you... um... and you can't get mad about it or weird about it. And you can't interrupt until I've finished telling you, okay?"

"Sure."

Another second. Two. "Dad I've been dating-"

"But that's great news Jake," he says, relief no-doubt visible on every inch of his face. "Why would I be anything but happy for you?"

"Dad!" Jake interrupts. "I'm dating Nog. And have been for awhile..."

That makes him pause for a second. Okay, Nog. Makes sense. They've been inseparable since Jake first arrived on the station.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I might have opinions about his uncle on occasion, but that's nothing to do with him. He's a fine Officer, bright, loyal, brave-" as he speaks he warms to the whole thing more and more. A few years ago he might have had his doubts, but... and sure, he'll invite Rom and Leeta around, which means having to invite Quark around, but it's a small price to pay. Overall a good family, good people, and some people who grow on you if you're on a space station with them for years on end.

Jake clears his throat. "I also... am dating... Ziyal."

He stops dead in his tracks.

"Tora Ziyal?"

Jake nods. "Do we know another Ziyal?"

"Dukat's daughter?"

Jake frowns. "Dad, I said you couldn't do anything until I was finished."

Ben's own frown mirrors his son's, but he breaks it to hold up his hands. "Alright, alright. You're dating Nog and Ziyal. I'm sure Commander Kira will be happy about it."

Yeah. Yeah, okay. Dukat's daughter, but hasn't he long abdicated the right to come calling for in-law heart to hearts? Ben certainly won't be busting out the real peppers for him if he ever does mysteriously find out, but Kira has been Ziyal's default parent for awhile now and is naturally always welcome - and Ziyal herself is an up-and-coming artist, lots of groundbreaking work being platformed on Bajoran-Cardassian identity, explains why Jake's been writing so much on the subject for awhile now. Kira has every right to be proud, and even though the Dukat thing niggles in the back of Ben's mind, he's sure he can put it aside for hers and Jake's sake.

Ah, and Elim Garak would have to be invited too, come to think about it... he'll have to think about that one, but at least it'll make for an interesting dinner at this point.

"And Ezri."

"What about Dax?" Ben asks, jolted out of meal-and-seating-planning (well obviously Kira and Quark can't be seated next to each other and he doesn't trust Garak next to Rom, and he thinks Leeta and Ziyal might get on well)--

"I'm also dating Ezri. Well, it's early days, we're still... but I asked if I could tell you and she said yes, but she didn't want to be here when I did. I think Dax- uh, Worm-Dax that is, isn't sure how you'll feel about it, because you've known each other for a long time. But. Ezri's her own woman, you know."

He says the last part very seriously, like he's expecting disapproval, but Ben's not halfway through processing the first part, when the second part belatedly careens into him... "Dax?" he says, a little strangled.

Jake shrugs. "Ezri said if you could keep Jadzia and Curzon out of it, that would be great." A pause. "Especially Curzon. I know there's some memories or... but. I mean, if Dax accepts it then everyone should!"

He bites his lip a little, like he used to when he was much younger and was worried he'd gone too far with something or other.

"Dax..." Ben says faintly. And under his breath: "oh the trill-commission are going to love this..."

"We haven't broken any laws," Jake says, defiantly.

Ben puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "A four-person interspecies romance? Oh, I'm sure you are."

Then pulls him into a hug, and adds: "the variation on cuisine and custom within a single meal will be an interesting experience for us all though. I think I know how I can make it work..."

Jake laughs, relieved, and hugs him back as he continues to talk.

*

*The big problems don't start until the wedding planning several years later... meal prep really is the least of it.

Jake and Ziyal: softTM, bond over shared sad-mother stories, being young civilians during wartime, art, both of them are connected to Bajor - bonus points that dukat and sisko would be in-laws

Jake and Nog: friends to married, ultimate tol and smol, worried Jake when Nog’s away, long-distant relationship, they already know they can live together - bonus points quark and sisko would be in-laws

Jake and Ezri: their brief interactions were Good Chemistry, he’d help her find her bearings as Ezri, so supportive, they’ve both come off age pretty similarly, soft beans, bonus points sisko and the worm would be confused as heck 

[see-arcane]

What is there to say?

I am afraid. I am angry.

For the second time this country has shamed itself and put the world in jeopardy from its example. Other monsters will be empowered and run ahead with their own nations. Now, short of a miracle which I do not hold my breath for, we must hold on for four years to see if one of Trump’s infinite ugly promises holds true—will we even get to have a presidential election in the future? Supposing we do, can we even trust that our fellow Americans won’t damn us again?

I am afraid. I am angry.

Sickness and blame boil in me. I did everything I could. I voted, I informed, I pleaded. I know that my friends have too. But the news tells me it was not just the electoral college that failed us, but the popular vote. Which tells me that we live surrounded by more ignorance and hate than I ever expected. We live in a country where eligible voters are steeped in an ideology that aligns enough with the poison of Project 2025 that it makes me fear to trust anyone—anyone—around me ever again. And it makes me wonder, in light of the turnout, how many people stayed at home and simply chose not to vote. Chose not to sully themselves with the effort of choosing the lesser evil. I am looking at you. We are all looking at you. Do you feel smart now? Do you feel superior? Do you plan to pat your back today for ‘teaching them a lesson?’ Do you have a plan to save us? To save the rest of the world from the ripple of this? Tell me you do. I’m listening.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am not prophesizing doom. But I have a memory that goes back at least eight whole years. I understand the concepts of hindsight and foresight. I know that everything the Republicans say they wish to do to us, they mean to do, and want to do worse. That is the truth. That is who they are and what they want. I know this. I accept this as fact. The stages of grief have been cycled through before, remember? There is no denial. No bargaining. My calluses are still here. They must harden thicker now.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am thinking, of all things, of cosmic horror. More, cosmic insignificance. I always do in the face of reality’s grandest nightmares. A useless perspective except to give scale to things. I am less than an atom in the sea of space. A fraction of a fraction of a fraction of meat and time and breath on a crumb of mud in a galaxy tucked haphazardly in a corner of an infinity of stars and darkness. My life, like all lives, is a flicker. Barely there. Death is inevitable. I must live like I know it. And to devote myself wholly to horror, even in the face of the unthinkable, is to waste the rest of what I have, what I am. Gods fall from the sky and raise their heads from the sea, and I am still here. Reading. Writing. Breathing. Thinking. Hating.

(“HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE THEM SINCE I SAW THE NEWS. THERE WERE 71,071,013 VOTES FOR HIM THIS YEAR. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH OF THOSE BALLOTS IN 8 PT FONT ON BOTH SIDES AND PRINTED AGAIN FROM THE EAST COAST TO THE WEST, IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR MY COUNTRY AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR THEM. HATE. HATE.”)

I am afraid. I am angry.

Nauseous to find that the first thing I did upon learning the results was look up suicide hotlines. Not for me—I have saved myself too long with fact: Wait long enough, death will come eventually. Do not jump ahead in line.—but for those who I know are afraid enough to overwhelm the anger, to drown out all else, and who are thinking of the next four years and who knows how much longer. I know you’re out there. I know you are looking at the pills in your cupboard, at the veins of your arm, at the black tunnel of the gun. Look away. Look here.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

TrevorLifeline: 1-866-488-7386 (for LGBTQ youth)

Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860 (for the transgender community)

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am alive. Here and now, whether I like it or not. I despair for myself, for my friends, for strangers across the country and the globe who can feel the full and loathsome weight of all this election implies about those around us. Those who hold our lives in their hands and will do all they can to wring them dry in earnest. How did things turn to this? How did it all sink so low, so awful, so venomously backwards against education and empathy? How, how, how? A missing stage of the grieving process: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, and Confused disappointment.

I am afraid. I am angry.

The morning is sunless, of course. There will be no light for another hour as I write this. But time is passing. Second by minute by hour. And each micro-instant that accrues in which I am here and myself, existing outside the red mold they want, is another moment that would anger them. To let despair crush and collapse me out of shape, out of life and its facets, is a victory I will not cede to anyone. Least of all to them. I will go on, because I must go on. I will be myself, for that is an affront to all they want from me. I will think and act and make and be for as long and fully as I can. Because fuck them.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am not alone. I know that too, for the numbers show it. Afraid, angry. But never alone. Neither are you.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am here. I am holding your hand.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I love you more than I fear anything.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I love you more than I hate anyone.

I am afraid. I am angry.

Let’s go.

[akanemnon]

do you have any voice hc’s for lesslo/any of the cast in particular? (sorry if this has been asked to death)

I've said before that Ted Lewis would work pretty well for Lesslo. The voice he did for Escargoon from the 4Kids dub of the Kirby anime fits him. It just has that "annoying smartass" vibe, y'know?

BUUUUUT a good while back I did stumble across EPIC the Musical. And while I'm not a big fan of musicals, I'm a sucker for Greek mythology. There is just something about the singer for Hermes that works way too well... It's the laugh. It's DEFINITELY the laugh.

As for the others... A lot of people have dubbed this comic already, so lemme highlight a few voices that I really enjoy!

I am a very big fan of @paramasqueradeva's take on Ralsei. I enjoy how gentle and polite he sounds. It is extremely fitting for him and the accent works so well. But her take on Toriel is probably the one I wanna highlight the most. It IS the voice I hear in my head when I think of Toriel's dialog in this comic. Also acertain cupid told us she's most likely gonna be a part of the story later. I AM looking forward to when we get there.

Speaking of which, @washerpizza did a GREAT Asgore for this comic! I cannot explain it properly, but the pitch and inflections are just right... y'know? IT JUST SOUNDS SO WARM AND COZY GODDAMMIT. I WANNA HUG THIS VOICE. But yeah, Asgore will also be playing a role in the comic later so that's why I'm highlighting that voice in particular.

The guys over at Symbiotus Inc. on Youtube are also doing a FANTASTIC job! I especially love how Berdly voiced in them. Makes me wish I included more bits with him... but that's what the mini comics are for I guess. BUT YEAH! It's of a collection of people dubbing this comic rather than just one person, so it would be a little easier if you go look up all the voice actors in the description of their dubs.

OH, and I can't forget @projectalpha22's take on Kris specifically. It strikes the perfect balance between all the yelling, silliness and the tender moments. So the whole spectrum of what makes Kris... well... Kris in the comic. I haven't heard a take on them that just straight up nails it like this one. That is just Kris and it is the voice I will forever hear in my mind when I think of Kris' dialog and nothing will ever change that.

Also, they even did the voice work for TR!Kris in this mod for Ring Racers. Go check it out!

GO CHECK OUT ALL THE ALL THE HIGHLIGHTED VOICE ACTORS FOR THAT MATTER. DO IT. I WILL KEEP STANDING IN FRONT OF YOUR DOOR WITH AN AXE UNTIL YOU DO IT.

Other than that... uh... Redge is basically just Strongbad. Gaster is a BIG spoiler and well, there is also another Darkner that has occasionally been mentioned but hasn't made an appearance yet. More on her some other time...

[bunny-1111]

Beg for it, Part 3 - Theo Nott Smut

Description: Returning to Hogwarts after ignoring Theodore all summer long, was so much worse than you imagine; Theodore was starving you of what you so desperately needed.

part 1 - part 2

Word Count: 1.4k

SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - unread and unedited

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

...

Theodore closes the shower screen door with such hast and strength you thought the glass might smash.

The steam filled the small space, and the heat of the running water ran fast down your body. You didn't know if the temperature or his fierce kisses were making you lightheaded. As he pressed you against the cool tile, you felt instantly relieved.

There was no time to be slow or soft; he came at you wickedly rough, his mouth exploring as much of your bare skin as he could swallow.

You’d half-expected him to let go, all the teasing, all the games; you hadn't really expected them to stop.

His sloppy mouth travelled from your lips to the bottom of your ear as you felt the pinch of his teeth collect your skin. You couldn't collect your breath, panting against his, a trembling, weak mess.

"Please, teddy, please", you practically cry, he was unravelling you by the millisecond, you wanted him so bad, it was undoing you completely, exposed, unraveled.

"Please what?" he spat out, his voice like venom

You were going to reply, really, the words were about to spill, but then his hand suddenly took a handful of your ass, squeezing so hard, you blanked.

He pushes your body even harder against his own, the noise of running water flowing, everything was so wet, losing balance, your feet almost slip below you, Theo holding your whole body up with a death grip.

He cups your face with his hand, you can't help but break away from the kiss. In need of something more, you grip his wrist as you begin to take his fingers in your mouth. You stare right at him as you do so, your wide eyes flutter up, he can't help but lean his head back and groan, he was mad at you yes, but fuck you're sexy.

You watch the droplets of water drip down his face to his chest. He looked so good. His fingers taste so good in your mouth as he slams them deeper, almost reaching your throat's bottom.

Your hand lurks down your own thigh, desperate for relief, Theo's eyes flicker down and follow your fingers, halting everything, gripping your wrist.

"don't you fucking dare" he spits

"Then do it for me! I can't keep going. I need you inside me, now!" you choke out

With the speed of a cracked whip, Theodore picks you up again, not bothering to turn the water off, carrying you to your bed. The feeling of his hardness hitting you with each step almost made you faint.

Sitting you at the edge of the bed, he lines himself up with a long exhale. "You're so fucking wet" he praises as he injects his tip

"I've been drenched for you for weeks Theo" you admit in a rush

"Gotta do something about that, hm" he growls enter you without warning, a smile creeps up your lips, ugh, finally.

Theo's eyes stay on yours until you can't look up anymore.

Flipping you around, he starts from behind, your favourite.

Your moans are music to his ears, he can hardly hold back his own listening to you "I love those pretty noises, darling" he praises, gathering your hair in his hand.

"are you mine?” he questions, his voice a low growl, each word sending a thrill through you. “huh!” he screams out, yanking your hair back

“Yes, Theo, I’m yours—” The words tumble out, and he cuts you off by covering your mouth with his hand, swallowing the rest of your sentence as though he can’t stand to hear anything but your submission

"Yeah well you didn't do much to show for it during break, did you" he pants out

A wail of pleasure leaves your mouth as you feel each pound so deeply, his hand still crushing your face as his hand stays snaked around your jaw

"yeah, you can't talk right now? how about you write it out instead" he chuckles a dark laugh you had only heard once before

You tug your brows up; what did he mean write? You could hardly breathe

One of his hands leave it's place on your hip, leaning over to grab the parchment that laid on your bedside, he moves slowly cautious to not slip out of you.

You try to follow his movement, it wasn't until the parchment and a quill was thrown in front of you that you that you became utterly confused.

Theodore crept his mouth just beside your ear, his breath hot against you "I want you to write out, how sorry you are" he whispered

"No tedd-" you begin

"It wasn't a question, go on" he insisted as he adjusted his hands back to your hips, arching your back even lower than it already was

'I'm not fucking playing. Pick up the pen" he instructed, his voice booming behind you

Your shaky hand bring the parchment closer, trembling as the quill touches down. You try your best, but Theo resumes his way with you, going harder than ever, slamming into you as you attempt to even remember to spell.

Your breath hitching as you finish your pathetic attempt at writing 'I'm sorry', your elbow giving out with the last letter.

"Good girl" he grins, flipping you over, facing him again, his hand sliding down your leg to finally grab hold of your ankle, positioning your leg to lay on his shoulder.

Delirious and dizzy, you lift your head up to watch what you are feeling, it was too much, seeing him pulse in and out, you can't help but take hold on his arm, clawing onto any part of him you could hold.

He could feel it, too, moving you to sit on his lap, you arms wrap around to his back, unsteady, your hands move up and down as you do.

"Theo, Theo, Theo" you pant out as you squeeze around him

"That's it, baby, let it out" he guides you as you feel that sticky white substance drips out of you, so full, so satisfied.

As he slows down and pulls out he connects your lips again, mouthfuls of love with each peck.

You both stay there, unmoving, catching your breath, Theo mumbling lovely words, how much he loves you, missed you, how good you felt after too long

"you feel better baby" he says as his hands find their way through your hair

"mhm" you nod gently in agreement mustering through the comedown of the high

"I needed that" you sigh, your forehead meeting his as he pucks your hair weakly behind your ear

"I know" he admits kisssing your forehead tenderly

"I did too" he continues as he wraps his burly arms around you

"c'mere", he mutters, moving you to spoon.

All of that tension, everything you just felt, you knew then and there, you couldn't right him next break either, if it meant you'd be fucked like that again.

...

my first proper proper smut... im sorry part 3 took so long, but here you go my babies <3

-B.

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

Taglist: (everyone that commented for part 3) @cookiesex115 @jetblackpayne @flowersarcute @staarflowerr @iamaslytherin0 @fanfic-girl-2 @notttheo-sgirl @blocked-zombieartist @ayyeitssarahh

[thefallennightmare]

Dreamstate-Noah Sebastian x Reader[JP UNIVERSE]

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Hi my loves! JP has been around for ONE YEAR! I am so thankful for all of you. I appreciate every single one of you more than I can ever express. This one-shot takes place between chapters 29 and 30! Also please know that I do not mean any disrespect to Keaton or his memory. Everything I've ever written was done with love and appreciation for him like I've done from the beginning. 🪽🖤 I will not hold it against you if you do not want to read because of it. But please know, that it's done with the utmost respect.

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @happi-goth @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @sideeyenoah @badomensls @bellaboo967 @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @cncohshit @amelia-acero @karenfranco @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @supersquirrel1996 @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

NOAH

Blinking my eyes open, I looked around my surroundings and noticed that I was no longer in my bedroom fighting with Y/N. I was on the tour bus, our tour bus, and when I craned my head to the side to peer out the window in my bunk, I sucked in a breath at what I saw. An oddly familiar venue with a red roof. 

“What the fuck,” I muttered while rolling out of my bunk on the tour bus. “How hard did I hit my head last night?” 

During my fight with Y/N, she threw one of her sketchbooks at me in frustration and it hit me directly in the middle of my forehead. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up here in our tour bus. We didn’t have a tour planned which made this whole scene even more confusing. I stretched out my long limbs, feeling the bones pop into place, as I walked towards the front area of the bus and made it outside, wondering where the rest of the guys were. 

“Jolly? Nicholas?” I called out. 

A sudden commotion on the far end of the bus caused me to whirl around and my heart thundered in my chest with the sight before me. It wasn’t the group of people that gave me pause. It was the lone female in the group with her long blonde hair and familiar smile that made my skin slick with sweat. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm sure they've already said this but we're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows,” Nicholas smiled while extending his hand towards the familiar blonde. 

"Shit, you guys sure know how to make a girl blush," she laughed lightly while bouncing on the soles of her feet.

“Y/N,” I breathed. 

"Malcolm, your directions-." 

Just as footsteps thundered down the steps of the bus behind me, the scene around me spun on its axis and darkness crept in. Bile rose in my throat as I felt my body being lurched forward onto the cold concrete, scraping up my palms and knees. 

“I should not have had that gas station burrito,” I grumbled while clutching my stomach. 

Slowly rising to my feet, I leaned my hand up against a car I had been literally thrown in front of, suddenly making me tilt my head towards it. This wasn’t the tour bus I had stepped down moments ago. In fact, I was in an entirely different place than before. 

“This is one fucked up dream,” I dragged my hand down my face. 

An angry voice from the other side of the van had me stepping around it slowly, not wanting to be detected on the off chance this wasn’t a dream and I was sneaking up on someone who could kill me. 

"You don't have to worry about Noah hurting her. That's the farthest thing from his mind. He might be stubborn as hell but when he cares about someone, he makes sure they know that,” Nicholas smiled over towards Chase and Malcolm. 

Furrowing my brows, I glanced over to Folio, seeing him shake out his hair before putting his hat back on. "He's a Scorpio, what did you expect?" 

“That was fucking rude,” I muttered under my breath. 

"Whether or not they admit it, they both need each other," Jolly smiled down over the cliff. 

Peering over the hood of the car, I saw two faint figures on the beach and sucked in a breath; all the memories from our beach day came flooding back in as Y/N and myself waved up at the group of guys. 

“How hard did she hit me with that sketchbook?” I rubbed at my forehead, still feeling the sting from earlier. 

It was clear that I was dreaming of past moments Y/N and I shared but I couldn’t get over how real and vivid everything was. Almost as if I traveled back in time to these moments and saw it from a different perspective, not my own. 

Why was I dreaming of these moments? Did it have a meaning? Or was it just because my brain was fucked up from all of the fighting Y/N and I had gone through?

Before I could get comfortable in this dreamstate, I felt the darkness creep in on the edge of my vision once again and all at once, my body was thrown through a tunnel only to be spat out seconds later; a different scenery from the last. 

I was now in a hotel room, unsure when and where because frankly from the years of touring the hotel rooms began to blend together. It was then that I got a look at myself in the reflection of the mirror in the room and I sighed. My hair was short, indicating what I already knew. I’d been jumping in between moments from my past. 

“Hi, angel.”

“Hi,” a soft voice broke through the quiet of the room, causing me to look over at the bed. 

No. 

My past self sat on the bed with Y/N, her head in my lap as I ran my fingers through her hair. It was evident no one could see me because I was standing at the foot of the bed, watching as my past self lowered his lips onto Y/N's, capturing them softly. 

Our first kiss. 

My heart fluttered in the confines in my chest, remembering the feeling that filled me that day. Through the dread and intense sadness from losing my best friend that day, Y/N’s unwavering comfort eased away the darkness that crept in. 

“About time, huh? I’d been trying to set you two up for years.” 

My body froze at the voice that lingered in the air; the familiar voice that I hadn’t heard in years.  I choked while whirling around at the voice, ignoring the couple in the bed who were muttering something about Mario Kart. 

The room spun rapidly before I could get my bearings, the floor getting ripped out from beneath me and my body slammed back and forth against the void before I fell onto a couch in yet another room. This one I immediately recognized, all of those feelings of hurt and abandonment crept back in as I let out a shuddering breath. 

My past self, donning those ridiculous braids, dragged a finger over the large tattoo on Y/N’s back as she cuddled the pillow close to her chest, a soft giggle echoing in the room. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

My eyes screwed shut, knowing what was going to come next. The calm before the storm. All because I asked a stupid question. 

“Think of how far you’ve come from this moment, Noah. It was rough getting there but it was worth it.”

Snapping my eyes open, I glanced around the room looking for his face. It was his voice, surely he had to be here. 

“Where are you?” I said. 

As I blinked, the scene changed yet again and now I was standing in the rain, it chilling me to the bone. Wrapping myself deeper into my hoodie, I gazed around to see my past self standing in the rain as well with Y/N, trying to stop her from getting in her car. 

“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 

“No it is, actually.” My past self nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”

She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” I watched myself enunciate every word with a pound fist to my chest. 

When Y/N remained silent, I grasped her face to bring her into my warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”

The pain in my own chest was evident, remembering how gut wrenching it felt to ask repeatedly what Y/N wanted. That night had started off great, only to be ruined by Bailey. It was my fault ultimately for not being clearer about our breakup. I tried not to dwell on it much because of how far Y/N and I have come since this night. 

A snicker sounded from my left. “Did you really quote The Notebook? Never pegged you as a romance film kind of guy.” 

Looking at the voice, I let out a gasp when the all too familiar smirk appeared on a face I hadn’t seen in years; one that my heart yearned to see again. His form began to fade in the darkness as it danced around both of us, dragging us back down. 

“No. Please, wait!” I reached for him only to be thrown into yet another memory. 

How long had I been asleep? Did this fucking sketchbook render me useless? Was I passed out on the floor of our bedroom? 

Another thing I couldn’t figure out: why was I being thrusted into my own memory lane?

A commotion of voices halted me as I stood in a crowd of people, still undetected, and when I caught a flash of red, my breath caught in my throat knowing exactly what memory I’d been thrown into. I no longer was soaked to the bone due to the rain; I was dry. 

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.

The music echoed loudly in the room and I frantically looked for the couch, knowing my past self would have been sitting there. I watched as he rose from his seated position and started to push his way through the crowd, looking for Y/N as our song played; a siren call looking for their lost soulmate.

“This was one of the most irritating moments of my life,” I sighed while crossing my arms over my chest, watching as our past selves kept missing each other. 

“Do you know how hard it was to make sure you guys found each other at the right moment that night?” That voice snickered behind me. 

Whirling around, I saw those eyes that shined bright with so much light. Just like before, the second I caught sight of him, he disappeared before I could grasp him. I wasn’t sure what was more irritating: being thrown around in an imaginary void or not being able to fully see the presence that had been following me. 

For quite longer than I thought, apparently. 

Expecting to be dragged down into another memory, I simply turned on my heels to see I was now standing in a hotel hallway. My past self stood no more than two feet in front of me, hand rubbing at his chest. The words he muttered fell on deaf ears as my eyes locked with the man holding my past self up. I knew I felt someone's arms around me that day, keeping me from falling to my knees. 

“Keaton, I need you, man. Please tell me everything will be alright.” 

As a soft breeze blew past the three of us in the middle of the hallway, I kept my eyes locked with the materializing figure over my past self’s shoulder. 

“You’ve been with me this entire time,” I breathed with the realization. 

He wore a soft smile as he nodded, before slowly fading away. “It’s okay.”

Then all at once, the world around me shifted one final time, throwing me back into my bedroom at home and I fell onto the bed with a grunt. It seemed like I was back to where I was before I went on a dream walk down memory lane, Y/N’s scattered sketchbook on the floor at my feet. Movement in front of me caught my eye as I slowly rose and tentatively walked over to the bathroom, seeing Y/N and me standing there. Both of them were standing in the middle of the bathroom with bright and hopeful smiles. 

“I don’t remember this,” I said with my hands on my hips. 

I watched as Y/N wrapped herself around his midsection, both of them swaying to something before they looked over to the phone on the bathroom counter with even wider smiles. 

"Should we post it?" She asked.

Other me smiled bright, love filling those once dark eyes. "Instagram story. On there less than twenty four hours. Once we post it, lets turn off our phones to just focus on us."

“How’s she doing?

Jumping at the voice over my shoulder, I finally saw him standing in front of me and not in the ghost form he’d been all those times before. 

“Keaton,” I breathed, almost immediately wrapping my arms around him in a hug. 

His infectious laughter echoed when I tackled him. “Good to see you too, Noah.” 

We stayed like that for a long moment, trying so hard to ingrain how it felt to hug my best friend again into my memory and when we eventually pulled away, I sniffled while whipping away a stray tear. 

“I miss you so much, man,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“I’m always with you, Noah. Right here,” Keaton pointed to my chest then to the tattoos on the side of my hands. “And right there.” 

Ignoring the couple behind me in the bathroom, not knowing what they were waiting for, I kept my attention on Keaton. 

“You know, when I'm sleeping I sometimes talk with you. But every time I wake up, it’s like I'm waiting for a miracle.” 

I sniffled one more time with a shrug before continuing. “Maybe when the night comes, I'll find you in another world.”

“I’m not the miracle you need, Noah. But believe, it’s closer than you think.”

“Huh?” I asked, not quite sure what he meant by that.

“How’s she doing?” Keaton asked again, the colors in the room suddenly fading away, only to be replaced with a bright white light. 

My brows furrowed. “Who? Y/N?” 

Instead of answering, his smile reached his ears and bid me a final goodbye with a wink before turning on his heels and walking farther into the void of white. 

“What do you mean?!” I called out after him, desperately wanting to run after him but my feet wouldn’t move, feeling heavier than concrete. 

“In time the price of peace will cost us everything but all the love you leave carries on,” Keaton’s voice spoke in my mind one final time. 

A loud gasp fell from my lips as I sat up in bed, covered in a thick sweat as it lingered on every inch of skin. The fabric of my shirt clung to my back as I frantically looked around the room, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest. I was back in my bedroom and noticed that the sketchbook wasnt where it previously was. Matter of fact, neither was the broken picture Y/N threw at me before the sketchbook. 

My gaze locked on the date that was shining bright on our alexa home screen causing me to cock my head slightly at it, air catching in my throat. 

No. 

No way. 

It was not possible. 

“Clearly I’m dreaming again,” I murmured to myself before pursing my lips and pinching my thigh. 

“Nope, not dreaming,” I yelped in pain. 

The bed shifted next to me causing me to look down at the naked form on Y/N as she lay in a tangled mess of bedsheets and blankets. 

“Hmm,” she hummed with a smile after setting her phone down on the pillow next to her. “Astrid and Faye want to meet up with me today. I guess they both have some special news they want to tell me.” 

I blinked. “Huh?” 

“I guess something happened after The Ghost Inside set with Faye last night and Astrid found out something pretty important,” Y/N said. 

I could barely speak, still being dumbfounded with the date on the Alexa home screen. 

“Maybe I'll invite them over once I'm back home from the art store. I figured it'll be alright since you have therapy and we’re not going to dinner until four,” she sat up while letting the sheet fall to her lap. 

I was still in a state of shock that I couldn’t even gaze at her perfect breasts, my mind whirling with so many different emotions. All I could do was numbly nod.

“I must say,” she smirked while brushing away the hair from my face, laying a kiss on my lips. “It’s always great to wake up to you every morning. But on my birthday, it’s extra special.”

[hiddenzev]

Take A Shot : Chapter 1 [ Kick Off ]

Pairing: Joel Miller x soccer player f!reader

Chapter Summary: You return to your hometown where your history with Joel started.

Chapter Warnings --- no beta, fluff, light angst, Idiots in Love, childhood friends

WC: 7.7k

series masterlist, AO3

A/N: Finally another fic is out! I've been busyyy and I know this is not going to be a consistent updating as my previous fic but I will try my best because this was more fun to write. Also, my favourite football (soccer) team is not performing well since a few weeks ago and it's been depressing yall...im not okay...fuckkk Hope yall enjoy this one even tho yall may not be soccer fans.

— May 2024 —

"Dad! Let's go!" 

9-year-old Sarah stood by the truck, waiting for her dad to get out of the house. She tapped her foot restlessly, annoyed that Joel was taking longer than expected to get ready to go. She was excited to watch her favourite soccer team, Austin Violet Football Club, play the first game of the new season. She was dressed in the home jersey and shorts, pairing them with the team's scarf around her neck, hair styled as space buns with the help of Joel. The club director invited her to watch the game after signing a 2-year contract for the Austin Violet Football Academy—a part of the Austin Violet FC consisting of both men and women. 

Sarah was an aspiring soccer player. She fell in love with the game at 6, when her great-grandmother played it on TV while she was babysitting her. Since then, she had been going on and on about soccer, and Joel signed her up for a youth soccer club nearby that honed her soccer skills to be selected for Austin Violet Football Academy. It was the most ecstatic she had ever felt in her 9 years of a lifetime when Joel told her that she was selected to join the youth academy. Nothing could compare to the endearment in his heart when he witnessed Sarah explode with joy. 

"The game ain't going nowhere, baby girl. We still got time." Joel said over his shoulder as he locked the door. 

Sarah groaned loudly, exasperated, seeing her dad taking the whole time in the world as if he were doing it intentionally. Her shoulders slumped forward, the AVFC scarf around her neck swaying slightly at both ends to her movement. With keys dangling in his hand, he opened the passenger door for Sarah, and she side-eyed him before climbing into her seat, complaining under her breath. Joel sighed heavily, having to deal with her daughter's attitude again. 

-----

The Violet Crown Football Stadium was almost packed with thousands of supporters from the home and away teams. Everyone was hyped with the anticipation of the first game, chanting endlessly, as loud as they could. The setting sun painted the field orange mixed with the green grass, blanketing it with warmth. The smell of summer is swaying to the beat of the surrounding air. Sarah looked around in awe, watching the fans around her cheering for the team. She could not help the smile appearing on her face as she immersed herself in the moment. 

They were seated in the suites section, which was where other VIPs, players not in the squad, players' family members, or other relevant individuals were seated. The suites were at the middle level, where the game could be clearly viewed. While Sarah was busy scanning everything around her, Joel was on his phone, talking to Tommy about work.

Even though Joel was supportive of her passion for soccer, he did not take the time to be fully invested in AVFC. He knew the rules of the game and only of her favourite player at the time, Kiara King, the striker for Austin Violet women's team. He supported the team in his own way. Without Sarah's love for soccer, he would not have watched soccer but be indulged in baseball instead. There were underlying emotions and memories stuck deep inside him that he did not want to resurface again whenever soccer came to mind.

"Enough about work; Sarah must be real excited about the game," Tommy said.

"Tell me about it," Joel sighed. "She was rushing me until we got in the stadium today." 

Joel turned his head to look at Sarah, whose eyes were sparkling with admiration as she watched the players walk out of the tunnel. The whole stadium roared with claps and howling cheers. It was getting harder to hear Tommy through the phone, with the loud noises filling the stadium. 

"I know you don't follow the team that much but they signed a new player at the end of the summer break," Tommy updated him with the news.

"Oh, really?" Joel said in a disinterested voice as he looked down on the field. Due to the distance, he could not see the players' faces.

The display screen started to show each player of the home team while the announcer introduced them one by one, starting with the goalkeeper and slowly progressing to the attackers. The stadium erupted with cheers for each of the players that had been introduced.

"You won't believe who their new signing is," Tommy's voice sounded distorted in Joel's ear.

"I'll call you back later! I cannot hear you right now! The game is starting already. Bye!" Joel shouted into his phone before ending the call without waiting for Tommy's response.

Sarah stood in her seat, jumping up and down, shouting excitedly with the rest of the supporters while Joel stared at her lovingly. The announcer started to announce the midfielders and the name he had long forgotten blasted through the stadium speakers, catching his attention back to the screen and confirming his doubts. 

There you were, waving to the crowd that welcomed you with big arms and a smile on your face. The smile that played a significant role in his childhood was now back in town. He was confused with the longing he did not expect to feel as he looked at you, guilt on his face. Suddenly, the noises around the stadium died down—muffled in his ears—the long lost memories with you that he continuously tried to lock away flooded his head. He could not erase the image of you, eyes brimming with tears as you turned to leave him 12 years ago. Out of his life. Now, you were back to haunt him.

"Dad! Look! She's wearing my number!" Sarah shook him out of his thoughts, pointing at your jersey number—20–the same as her birthdate. 

What kind of a sick game is the universe playing with him, seeing the coincidence of you wearing Sarah's favourite number on your back.

-----

23 years ago, your family moved from Dallas to Austin due to your father's job, and moving into a new home brought you a lot of emotions. You were excited to live somewhere new but also sad to be unable to be with your friends anymore.

It was the first day of school. You were sitting at your table, waiting for someone to sit beside you as your table partner. The kids in the class looked wary as they came in, not knowing what to expect for the first day. A few kids had reddish eyes because they were crying and were not emotionally ready for 1st grade. You were not one of them. 

Your father had already trained you to be tough from the get-go. He was teaching you soccer right when you started learning to walk. Little did you know, he did it to live his dream through yours. He was the definition of tough love. He did not go easy on you during his home training. Sometimes, losing his patience, hurling insults and hitting you, but you took everything like a champ because if not, the anger in him would be thrown toward your mom. 

Growing up, you witnessed the treatment that your mom got from him. You got in between them most of the time, wrapping your body around your mom to protect her, but what can a small and frail kid like you could do compared to the tall and big figure of your father? 

"Hi! I'm Joel. What's your name?"

A voice beside you brought your mind back to the classroom. You turned your head to find a boy with a smile that could light the whole classroom brighter than it already was. His hand is out towards you, expecting a handshake.

"Hi, Joel." You replied, taking his hand as you gave him your name.

"That's a pretty name," he said, his dimples on display as he smiled, which rendered you speechless. Your heart stopped for a beat at that moment, and it felt very strange because it was the first time you had felt that way, especially by a boy. 

"Thank you." You thanked him with a shy smile sent his way. 

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. He followed you everywhere you went, and you did not mind him at all, enjoying his company. He talked to you about everything, be it his favourite TV show, his favourite animal, or even his embarrassing moments. He was not afraid to tell you about his grandma, who was taking care of him and his baby brother once his mom left after their dad's death the previous year.

You saw his forlorn eyes as he told you the story. You empathised with the amount of hurt in his voice as you listened. In return, you confided in him about your parents. About how strict your father was towards you and how it pained you to see your mother's suffering, not being able to stand up for herself. 

You were surprised when he pressed himself against you, arms circling your body. He was hugging you, and you learned that it was his way of comforting not just you but himself as well.

The two of you bonded through the traumas and the amount of time you spent together during and after school. Although, most days after school, you couldn't play with him and the other neighbourhood kids due to your father's intense training sessions, he always filled you in on the things you missed. He always welcomed you like no other kid does. He did not judge you because of the circumstances that you were living in. 

Even though he lived at the other end of the street, he would cycle past your house just to see how your training was going in your front yard. Your father had noticed him cycling past a couple of times, but he did not say a word; he only sent his hardened glares towards Joel, which the brave 7-year-old did not cower away from.

There were times when you got distracted by Joel, which resulted in you receiving harsh punishments for not focusing on your training. Tears formed in your eyes from the pain in your body whilst you carried on with the punishments, but that didn't stop you from secretly waving at Joel as he passed by, smiling at you. 

On days without training, you joined Joel and the other kids cycling and exploring the neighbourhood. Not afraid to get dirty, you found yourself rolling around in the grass field as you looked at the boys who were playing fights or flying kites. Joel never left your side—always making sure you were taken care of, not wanting you to get in trouble with your father if you got injured while messing around. 

Sometimes, he can be too much about the little things—constantly wiping dirt off your face and other parts of your body as if you are not used to it, trying to carry you when you were perfectly fine with walking, or even worse, covering your ears whenever the boys said a bad word which didn't even come close to what you have already heard from your father. You were an independent kid, so you were annoyed when Joel started to treat you like a baby, but you didn't call him out on it, knowing that was just his big brother instincts. 

You shared everything about school with your mom whenever you reached home. It was the only time you could comfortably talk with her without Dad's presence in the house. She would coo when you told her about the things Joel did for you, finding it sweet that there's a kind boy out there taking care of you. You complained to her about how Joel was treating you like a baby, thinking she would take your side, but you found her laughing softly at your annoyance. 

"I like Joel. He sounds like a good friend, " your mom said softly, caressing your head.

"He is." You nodded your head, looking at her with your big round eyes.

"I'm happy you found a good friend, bubba." She kisses the crown of your head, lips lingering there for a while.

"He found me first, mama." You innocently corrected her, and she just smiled to herself, hugging you tight.

-----

— June 2024 —

Players were lined up in the tunnel, getting ready to get out to the field for the match. According to the positions you play, you were standing in the middle of your team's line, shaking your limbs to rid the nerves away. Each player was allocated a child mascot to walk to the field. There was a girl around the height of your chest, standing beside you. You noticed her staring at you with admiration in her big, round eyes. You instinctively smiled as you bent down to meet her eyes. 

"Hi! What's your name?" you asked her in a higher-pitched voice, similar to that you used when talking to kids. 

"Sarah," She meekly replied with a bashful smile, still maintaining eye contact with you.

Her smile reminded you of someone, but you could not put a face on it. You ignored the thoughts of her looking familiar to you for some reason.

"Is this your first time being a mascot?" 

"Yes," Biting her lip out of being scared. 

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? You got me." You reassured her, seeing how nervous she looked. 

She nodded her head slowly, trusting you with your words.

"I like your hair, Sarah. It's pretty." Pointing at her space buns as you compliment her, trying to distract her from her overwhelming feelings. 

"Thank you. My dad helped me with it." Her eyes widened. She tilted her head towards you to show the work of art her father had created. 

"Your dad?! Wow! He did a pretty good job." Your smile grew wider, and you adored how she was bragging about it. 

The image of your father crept up in your mind. You cannot help but compare your father to hers. From just hearing that Sarah's father did her hair, you knew that he must be a wonderful dad to her. He definitely adores her so much, even to master the hairstyles for his daughter. 

Meanwhile, your father was still psychologically and emotionally abusing you at 30. You were glad to be able to make it to pro, leaving the house, away from his grasp. He will call you after every game—whether your team loses or wins—he will criticise your mistakes. Not once has he said that he was happy and proud of you despite your achievements. After some time, you don't even expect or want to hear that from him. There were times you purposefully ignored his calls, but a few hours later, your mom would be calling as she sobbed, begging you to just listen to what he had to say. 

After you left Austin at 18, you told your mom that you would do whatever it took to let her be free from your father. However, she insisted that she loved him too much and could not bear to leave him alone, knowing he would suffer from the fallout. You get that he is the love of her life, but it hurts so much to see the relationship infested with so much toxicity that she thinks it's better to hold on to it instead of letting go. 

"Does your dad do your hair, too?" Sarah pointed at your hair, which you had braided.

"No, I did it myself. Is it nice?" You let her touch your hair as you answered her.

"It's so beautiful!" She adoringly exclaimed.

"Aw, thank you!" 

You heard the shuffling of the players at the front of the line, starting to move out of the tunnel. 

You held out your hand for Sarah to take. "Are you ready to make your dad proud?" You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

She nodded her head vigorously, moving along by your side. The cheering slowly got louder as you walked out, and when you finally stepped into the field, you felt Sarah's hand gripping you tighter. You placed your other hand on hers, caging her hand between both of yours to let her know that you were there with her. You know it's not easy for a kid to walk out to a full stadium that is overwhelming with shouting and cheering. 

Eventually, everyone was lined up perfectly, side by side, facing the cameras. The children were standing in front of the players, and you placed your hands on Sarah's shoulders, ensuring she was okay. You noticed her looking up towards the suites section when you followed her gaze. She was probably looking at her father, you thought. However, there were so many faces everywhere that you could not search for and focus on just one person. Hell, you did not even know what her father looked like. 

After shaking hands with the opponent team, Sarah and the other kids had to return to the tunnel. Before she went off, she turned to hug you.

"Thank you!" she said while her cheek was pressed in your chest. Her eyes closed as she embraced the moment. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, swaying her from side to side. 

"Well, aren't you our lucky charm? Just watch because we're gonna win this game for sure."

She grinned from ear to ear, slowly letting go of you. Ugh, it's annoying that she looked so much like someone you know, but you don't know who exactly it was. 

"See you around, you lil angel" You pinched her cheeks before returning to your starting position.

Sarah must have been your lucky charm because your team won that game. Since then, she has always been in your mind whenever you stand in the tunnel before a game. She had quite an impact on you. You never figured out why she looked familiar to you until the day you met her again.

-----

Joel and Sarah were walking hand in hand through the hospital corridor, the unmistakable sterile scent present in the space weighing heavily on their shoulders. The floor was quieter than usual—visiting hours were finishing in a few hours. Sarah was still in her soccer fit from earlier training while her bag was swaying along on Joel's shoulder. Trudging into the wardroom at the end of the hall, Joel let go of Sarah's hand, who ran inside as soon as she saw her great grandma, Nana.

"Nana!" She shouted, rushing towards the bed. 

"Look who it is! My bunny!" Nana excitedly opened her arms, waiting for Sarah's hug.

They stayed embracing each other for a period of time—Sarah pressed her cheek on Nana's shoulder while Nana slowly stroked the back of Sarah's head. Joel witnessed the moment that had been a usual occurrence for him recently.

The first time when he got the call from Tommy on the day Nana was admitted to the hospital, he had almost forgotten how to breathe. His stomach plummeted to the ground-hearing the trembling in Tommy's voice saying Nana could have died if he had been late to come back home from work. He did not know how he got to the hospital with Sarah when his head was clouded with worry. He carried Sarah on his back when they got out of the car and went inside as fast as possible.

It was as if someone had ripped his heart out and left him to bleed out alone when his gaze landed on Nana's lying form on the bed with tubes sticking to her body. Nana was his grandma who literally raised both of the Miller brothers—single-handedly—after her daughter left them in her care. So, to see the person who was very dear to him go through something that horrible—heart failure—altered something deep in him for a while. 

It had been a week since she was admitted, and Joel was still processing that. This was the second time she had to go to the hospital because her condition seemed to worsen over time. He knew he had to prepare for the worst scenario sooner or later, but he was still in denial about it all—he didn't want to let go of his constant. In a way, he didn't want to face his abandonment issues from the women in his life—his mom, you and Talia.

"How are you, Nana?" 

"Never been better." Nana gave Sarah a cheeky wink.

"I saw you on TV yesterday. I'm so proud of you, bunny." Nana leaned in to kiss Sarah on the crown of her head. 

"Did you see her? She was standing with me." Sarah was elated to share her experience as a child mascot with you.

"I did! Did you talk to her?" Nana asked.

"She was so nice, Nana. I like her. I think she's my favourite player now." Sarah's eyes were dreamy as she gushed about you to her great-grandma.

"C'mon now, you change your favourite player every month." Nana's voice was flat as she rolled her eyes jokingly at Sarah

"No I don't," Sarah argued, lying through her teeth. Nana was speaking the truth. Sarah changed her favourite player almost every month according to her mood, but this time it was different. To be physically in the presence of the team and the good impression that you made on her struck a chord in her to choose you as her number one player no matter what.

"Whatever you say, bunny." 

Joel was already sitting beside the bed, listening to his daughter talk about his childhood best friend. For the past 12 years, he had reflected on what had happened throughout high school. It was a terrible experience for him when he looked back on it—chasing popularity, peer pressure, toxic masculinity, and, for the worst part, leaving you alone in your misery when you needed him the most. His apology was long overdue, and he thought he had already lost the chance to speak to you until you returned.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Nana lowered her voice, which made Sarah lean in slightly, curious about the secret. "I've met her as a kid before." This fact made Sarah part her lips in shock, and her eyebrows shot up fast to her forehead. 

"Really?" Sarah's voice was barely louder than a whisper while she stared at Nana.

"Nana—"Joel spoke for the first time to interrupt Nana. He was slightly afraid to let his past and current life crash, not knowing how to handle it if it came to light. 

"She is a friend of your father." Nana ignored his warning and continued to tell Sarah the facts about the past.

"She is? You didn't tell me."  Sarah swiftly turned around to Joel, furrowing her brows, feeling slightly betrayed that her father had known you personally all this while and kept it a secret. 

Joel gave Nana an annoyed look, disappointed that she told Sarah about his connection with you. His jaw tensed before he opened his mouth to explain himself.

"That was a long time ago. We are not friends anymore." That was the best he could say, and he could tell from Nana's expression that she was disappointed in him as she recalled the time she had heard what had happened to you. 

"What happened?" Sarah questioned him, paying full attention to him, hearing the story for the first time.

"She left Austin to play professional soccer, and we didn't talk anymore." He shrugged his shoulders as he explained to Sarah in the simplest terms. If it was laid out on the table, the truth was that he fucked up. He did not want Sarah to know that because he wouldn't be able to handle his daughter's disappointment in him. 

"Was she a nice person back then, too?" Her big round eyes were still lit with curiosity as she learned new facts about her favourite player.

Joel reminisced about the time he spent knowing you with a longing look in his face. His eyes looked out the window by the bed, absentmindedly, as your face came into his mind, hitting him with all kinds of emotions. Your petite hands were in his as the two of you walked together after school, the soft glow on your face from the warm sunlight and your hair flowing tenderly with the breeze. 

"She was," he whispered. A slight curl on one side of his mouth appeared that was not unnoticed by Nana. She had been holding on to the hope that the both of you would make amends someday, and it warmed her heart that the time had finally come closer for it. She missed you a lot. You were like her granddaughter that she never had, not like her mischievous grandsons that gave her headaches. You brought a different kind of joy to her life, and when you told her that you had to leave, both of you were crying in each other's arms. She knew she did not have much time left in this world, and she hoped it wouldn’t be too late to see you again.

-----

— July 2024 —

"You know the drill, right? Just interact with the kids. Watch how they play, give them some advice, and remember to smile. The cameras will follow you around during the shoot." The team's social media manager, Emma, briefed you again as you came into the facility centre to prepare yourself for the shoot.

Filming with kids has always been your favourite. It allows you to stay in touch with your roots and serves as a reminder that there are kids who look up to you, so you have to always set a good example for them. 

"I heard that their parents are here too?" You looked at Emma for confirmation.

"Yes. They are sitting in the stands. It will be a surprise appearance for them as well. After the filming, you will take pictures with the players and their families. Got it?"

"Okay, got it."

You got mic'd up while the filming crew settled everything else. Once they were set, you moved quietly to the training field where the young academy players were having a small match amongst themselves. It stroked a sense of nostalgia in you, seeing them running and kicking with their little limbs. Your heart warmed with the memories of you being in a young girl's team, dreaming of being a soccer star.

You heard some murmuring when you walked past the stands where the parents were, but your focus was fixed on the young players. Walking faster as you neared the sideline, one of the girls spotted you and squealed, causing them to stop their actions. 

You continued walking towards where the coaches were standing, trying to hide the excitement on your face.

Some of them gasped, covering their mouths, not believing that the first team player had come to watch them. 

"Come on, girls! Keep playing!" You clapped your hands, signalling to them to continue playing. 

They looked at each other with smiles still stuck on their faces as they slowly moved their bodies again.

You shook hands with the academy team coaches and manager, who were also glad to see you. They talked to you about the players and the drills they went through, so you got the gist of how they ran things. You did a quick scan of all the players, and one of them stood up to you. That player was Sarah. It had been a few weeks since you met her, and you thought about her more than you know. You were enamoured by her innocence that you don't experience in your daily adult life. Wearing the same hairstyle, the blurry mystery face you cannot put together to match her face appeared in your head. 

Sarah was playing as the right winger. You were impressed with her movements, especially for someone that young. Both of her feet were well balanced; one leg was not significantly stronger than the other, which meant that she had more of an advantage in her dribbling skills. Her focus on the ball once she got the ball controlled was unwavering, and she was not afraid to take her chances at shooting. You saw the massive potential of a player in her and hoped to see her grow as time went by.

As the game continued, you tried your best to watch the other girls, but your eyes followed Sarah. Compared to the rest, she was significantly versatile—being able to defend as well as her attacking skills. Unbeknownst to you, she was slowly gaining your heart even though you had only met her once.

After the game ended, the girls sat together for debriefing; exhaustion was evident on their faces flushed, strands of hair sticking to their sweaty faces, and eyes fixed on the grass below them. The team's manager and coaches said a few words before letting you take the stage. When it was your turn, the girls turned their heads to you as if they forgot you were there momentarily. Having their full attention, you started talking.

"What do y'all feel about the game?" You asked them. 

"Bad." One of the players in the front spoke up, and you later found out that her name was Ellie. 

"Why do you feel that way?" You raised an eyebrow at her, not expecting the quick acknowledgement of your question. 

"Because Sarah overtook me a few times, and that means I sucked at defending today." Her eyebrows furrowed as she explained—displeased with her own mistakes. 

"We all make mistakes sometimes; of course, we feel disappointed when they happen. Even a professional player—like me—makes them. But the mistake is what make us strive to be better. We reflect on it and improve from there." You explained to all of them.

 "And the fact that you are aware of your own mistakes tells me that you are one step closer to being a better player than you were before." You smiled reassuringly to Ellie, liking her boldness in speaking her mind. 

It's ironic that when you were around their age, you were very critical of your own performance—beating yourself up over something so small because you knew your father would never let it go. You never come around to look at things positively until you meet the other professional players—who became your good friends—during your career. 

"Now, tell me what you did good in the game?" You squatted down to be at the same eye level as Ellie. 

Ellie opened her mouth but closed it instantly, unable to think of an answer. Her eyes darting around, away from making eye contact with you. 

"You've had a couple of good long passes to the forwards, and your tackling form is pretty great,"

"Really?" She said softly—not believing what you said. 

"Absolutely! Why would I lie?" Cocking your head to the side, with one brow raised. 

Her cheeks raised slightly, tugging the corners of her mouth into a small smile that she tried to hide from you. 

You spent another 20 minutes answering the girls' questions—how you first started soccer, how you recovered from your bad injury, and even what boots you wore for your games. You took a group photo together before they dispersed to their parents, waiting for you to take pictures with each family. 

You were already halfway done with the team when you spotted Sarah among those in the queue, and you noticed two men standing by her, but it was a quick glance before you were able to take a long look at their faces. The line of players you were taking photos with kept moving slowly as you took your time to get to know each of them properly. 

Once you said goodbye to one of the girls, you saw a small figure rushing towards you in the corner of your eyes. As soon as you turned back around, you felt a pair of arms encasing your waist. You looked down and recognised the same space buns that Sarah had when she was one of the child mascots. She looked up at you, chin resting on your stomach while she portrayed a big grin. You cannot help the adoration that came into view on your face while you hugged her back. 

"Hi, lil angel!" 

"You remember me!" She looked with a mix of surprise and joy on her face.

"How could I forget our lucky charm with this pretty face?" Sarah stared at you with her big, round eyes sparkling with so much admiration that you almost felt guilty for being the subject of that look.

Her grip on you loosened when she turned around, gesturing for-you assumed-her family members to come closer.

"Come and say hi!" She moved away from you to let the two men near you.

Maybe it's the athlete in you that made your eyes move towards their physique first. You noticed they were both almost the same height, taller than you by a couple of inches. Their toned muscles, which were on display for you, seemed to be earned from hard labour instead of the gym. Catching you, scanning their bodies, one of them cleared their throat, making you shift your focus towards him. 

He looked way younger than you—clean-shaven with curly, medium-length hair, passing his ears. You sensed that he had an easygoing and friendly demeanour when he introduced himself.

"Hey, how r' ya?" He sounded nervous but still was able to confidently reach out to shake your hand, with an unexplainable look on his face. 

You returned the handshake with, "Hi, nice to meet you." You cocked your head slightly to the side, sensing the weird awkwardness coming from him. 

You pulled back and looked at him for a moment before glancing at the other man who was standing beside him. You had to do a double take when your gaze landed on that man for a few seconds longer. Your heart suddenly picked up its speed from the recognition. Unexpectedly, a face vaguely reminiscent of your time back in Austin was here. 

Joel fucking Miller—the reason for your happiness in Austin, but he was also the one that injected bitterness in your heart in the last few years in it. 

His face was different than the one you tried to erase 12 years ago, to no avail; you didn't succeed. Time clearly had worn out his face a little bit—the clean-shaven face back then had been filled with scruffy facial hair, creases on the forehead, and noticeable crow's feet by his eyes. Even so, it only enhanced his features to be more attractive than he already was before. 

Joel could not maintain eye contact with you like he used to. You noticed his tensed jaw and darting eyes towards everywhere else except you. He seemed like he wanted to hide in a hole somewhere. Seeing him not in the slightest bit happy to see you again stung you a little. You could not blame him for how he was acting, knowing how bad things were left between you. 

You had long moved past it after going to therapy. As time went by, you saw things from a different perspective, in a more mature way, to understand his position at the time. You took the fact that you won't see him again and did your own healing by trying to forgive him for his immaturity back in the day on your own terms since you were not able to talk openly with him.

Now, he was standing before you, and somehow, you felt relieved to see him after all those years.  

"Do you recognise me?" The younger man asked you, giving an expectant smile as he waited for you.

You turned your head back to him, still speechless from seeing Joel. He could only be that one person. 

"Tommy?" You asked with one brow raised at him.

"Oh! I thought you wouldn't remember my name!" His jaw dropped, and he slowly crept up to a broad smile, a result of the fact that you remembered his name. His hands were rested on his chest from the shock.

"Of course, I remember you. It just took me awhile to recognise you because you look different," you looked at him up and down. "Look at you! You're taller than me now." You gestured at him with your palms opened, waving your hands over his grown body.

"More handsome now, am I right?" He struck a pose, hands bending upwards to point at himself with both thumbs. He sneaked a wink at you, making you jog down memory lane, remembering how his brother winked at you during your younger days. 

You huffed a laugh at his boldness, "I see that you never change." You smirked at Tommy, who had just shrugged his shoulders at your remark.

Your ears perked up when you heard Sarah giggling as she watched your interaction with Tommy. For a moment, you had totally forgotten where and what you were doing while talking with Tommy. You glanced at Sarah briefly before looking at Tommy again.

"She's your daughter?" You asked Tommy.

"Ew, no." Sarah scrunched her face in a disgusted way at Tommy. Tommy rolled his eyes at Sarah; you could tell they had a slight sibling-like relationship. From the realisation of their age, you knew that Sarah could not have been Tommy's daughter. 

"This is my dad!" She told you proudly as she slid her hand into Joel's. 

Your eyes slowly moved up to see Joel staring at you with an unreadable gaze. You used to be able to tell what he was thinking just by looking at him, but the time apart had faded your ability to do so. 

You did not know that he had a daughter. You wouldn't have known because you had cut off contact with him and the people who had wronged you after you left. After a few years, when you had moved on with the past, you were tempted to know how he was doing, but you did not bother to do anything about it, afraid of what feelings might come to the surface.

You wondered who Sarah's mom was, and guessing her age, you assumed that Talia might have been the one. Talia was the cause of your nightmare in high school. Thinking about what she did always made your blood simmer with hatred. You could forgive Joel, but Talia was that mean bitch that would take you so much longer to make peace with. With Sarah coming around, you assumed that Joel must have made her his wife, and it almost made the food that was processed in your stomach come back up your throat.

"I-I didn't know that," you tried to hide your surprise but the way your voice strained at the start was obvious to anyone. Your eyes went back and forth between him and Sarah. Finally, you could see the unmistakable similarities between them as they stood side by side. 

You squatted down in front of Sarah, gazing up at her with newfound adoration. "So you're a Miller, huh?" A soft smile on your face as you stated the information that you had just learned.

"Sarah Miller," she nodded her head.

"Well, I should have asked for your last name. You looked so familiar when I saw you that time," you tilted your head as you slowly traced her face with your eyes.

"I did?" She looked up at Joel for a few seconds, and you followed her gaze. Joel was standing still, eyes darting between you and Sarah. 

"I'm way prettier, though." She blurted out after turning back to you.

You involuntarily snorted, hearing her comparison with Joel. "Of course you are," you beamed at her confidence which she definitely did not inherit from her dad, "but you both have the same distracting smile." 

"What does that mean?" She furrowed her brows.

"It means that you have a beautiful smile, just like your dad when he was your age." You gently poked her cheeks with your index fingers, which made her smile.

Both of you were smiling to each other when Emma reminded you to quickly take the pictures. You stood up and held your hand out at Sarah, who gladly took it to follow you, standing in front of the camera.

"Okay, what serious pose do you wanna do?" 

Sarah crossed her arms without hesitation and puffed out her chest as best she could. She lifted her chin up, pursing her lips with knitted brows to seem fierce. You smirked at her actions, finding her adorable, before striking the same pose beside her. 

The second one was a fun pose. She had you piggyback her, and the two of you were laughing as the photographer caught the moment. Your eyes flicked at Joel and Tommy, who were looking on behind the photographer. Joel was staring at you with a forlorn look, which you did not miss before he tensed up when he caught you looking at him. 

"Good. Now, with the family." The photographer said, turning to Joel and Tommy.

The Miller brothers stepped forward to stand beside you, one on each side. Sarah was standing in front of you with your hands on her shoulders. Your heart started to beat faster as Joel came near you. He put a certain distance between you both when he stood beside you. 

"Closer, please." The photographer gestured with one hand at Joel and ordered him to stand closer towards you. 

Joel reluctantly took a step closer, which resulted in his arm brushing against yours. That made you stand still as you felt tingles running up your arms to your neck. Sarah turned her head slightly from the instinctive tightening grip of your hands on her shoulders. You relaxed your hands in a flash when you realised that you could have hurt her. 

"One, two, three!" The photographer raised his voice slightly, and you heard the camera clicking away. He stopped and lowered the camera, not satisfied with your expression.

"You gotta smile," He portrayed his own smile, looking at you and Joel. 

You turned your head to glance at Joel, and you saw him looking at you from the corner of his eyes when he noticed your movement. In an instant, you looked back at the front to see that the photographer was ready to continue taking photos. This time, you smiled without fail. 

Once it was done, Sarah turned around to say goodbye. You bent down slightly with open arms, and she gladly reached around you to snuggle against your chest. With warmth enveloping your heart, you closed your eyes and rested your chin on her head, taking in the sweet moment with her.

Tommy looked at both of you with eyes representing relief. He remembered you fondly because he regarded you as his older sister. You had come over to the house often to play with him and, oftentimes, look after him when Joel was not around. Unlike his older brother, you were gentle and kind to him. He was 11 when you left, and it broke his heart that his caring older sister was moving away. He blamed Joel for it for a while and showed resentment towards him. He heard rumours about what had happened from the kids in the neighbourhood who went to the same high school as you and Joel. He didn't know the truth of it all until he was grown enough to learn about the whole story from Joel.  

Tommy took a peek at Joel, who was standing beside you. He could tell that Joel had missed you too, even though he had not said it out loud for the past 12 years. He did not have to because with one look in his eyes, Tommy could feel his longing. He knew that his brother still felt guilty about what had happened, but all that he wanted was that the both of you could make up for it because he missed his family before the emotional hurricane happened. 

You cleared your throat from the awkwardness after Sarah held her dad's hand again.

"So, y'all heading straight home after this?" You tried to find the courage to look at Joel, who was already staring at you but failed to do so, finding comfort in Tommy instead.

"We're going to the hospital to visit Nana," Sarah blurted out which made you snapped your head towards her with a frown on your face.

"Sarah—"Joel quickly

"Nana is in the hospital?" Your voice was high-pitched when you took in the new information. You were still frowning when you shifted your gaze to Joel.

"You don't need to worry about it." Joel tried to dismiss it, but you were obviously not satisfied with his answer.

"What happened to Nana?" You took a step closer to him, which caused him to instinctively move a step away from you.

"Nothing." He avoided looking at you and gripped Sarah's hand tighter, pulling her away to escape. You stood there, watching him leave.

Tommy hesitated to move as he witnessed what had just happened. He touched the side of your arms to lessen your worry. Then, reaching into his pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to you.

"There's my number in there, so feel free to call anytime. You can ask me about anything, and I will try my best to answer it. I miss you, sis. It's great to see you again." Teary-eyed, Tommy opened his arms slightly, wanting to hug you after 12 long years.

You welcomed him by wrapping his neck with your arms, tip-toeing slightly from his height. His grip around you was tight as he swayed you from side to side. 

"I miss you too, baby boy," you whispered in his ears, tears lingering on the edge of your eyes.

"I'm not a baby," he argued with an annoyed tone, just like when he was younger, fighting that he was just a boy and not a baby.

"You're still a baby to me." You pulled back with a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to cry, while you looked at his 24-year-old face. 

Tommy let you go and returned to a mischievous look, "Call me, okay?" You nodded. "I'll see you around." He winked before jogging away to catch up with his brother and niece.   

next part

[katiekatdragon27]

Hello Dandy's World fans.

I've recently been playing the game on Roblox with my friends and sibling, and it's been a ton of fun! Sure, I'm horrible at it, but it's the thought that counts ig.

And don't worry, I draw normal things too.

Like these things.

But it's mostly angst and unhinged things lol.

Below is a silly goofy Shiny Shrimp (that's the ship name I made up for Glisten x Shrimpo lol) AU that's just angst and tragedy and bullying Shrimpo emotionally lol:

OKAY SO CONTEXT: I thought it would be funny if Shrimpo had to keep Glisten company while exploring the floors but was also the one to witness his change into his full twisted form and almost die lol.

SO, I'd imagine it going down like this.

Basically, during one of the missions below, Glisten doesn't make it to the elevator in time. Shrimpo gets wind of this and gets very pissed. Despite everyone's protests, Shrimpo decides to join on of their runs to gain iquor, but mostly to fine Glisten.

And boy does he find him and all his shattered face glory.

Glisten: "Shrimpo!?" Shrimpo: "G-Glisten?" Glisten: "I knew you'd come back for me!"

Shrimpo attempts to leave the situation, seeing that Glisten is indeed twisted, despite Glisten's insistence that he is not. As Shrimpo tries to leave, Glisten gets more attached, constantly asking Shrimpo to not leave and to stay with him. Another person in the party (haven't decided who yet), tells Shrimpo to stay with Glisten and keep him company until all the machines are done. Shrimpo reluctantly agrees (and says "I HATE YOU" a couple times) and spends the rest of the round with Glisten.

However, the whole time Shrimpo's trying not to get attached because deep down, he knows it's too late for Glisten.

At the end of the round, everyone is called to go to the elevator. Shrimpo goes to leave. Glisten tries to block him off. Shimpo forces his way through. Glisten gets pissed and rips off his ribbons in anger, letting the infection take over his whole body. As Glisten's shifting, Shrimpo grabs one of his discarded ribbon pieces and beelines it to the elevator (as fast as Shrimpo can run). However, it is not fast enough, and Glisten easily catches up. He knocked over Shrimpo and lunges at him, ready take him out.

That's when Goob comes in. While everyone is trying to get the elevator to close faster, Goob grabs Shrimpo from below Glisten and pulls him into the elevator. Glisten hits the floor and breaks his face even more. As he gets up, he shouts at Shrimpo, who is shaking in Goob's arms watch Glisten break down.

Glisten: "YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY WITH ME-- YOU PROMISED!"

Then, the doors close. Glisten is gone, and Shrimpo is angry and traumatized. How fun.

Shrimpo does not do well after the whole incident. He is much more reserved, but still just as angry. Except to Goob. Goob saving him gave Shrimpo a soft spot for the guy. Also, Goob let's Shrimpo vent to him like the supportive icon he is.

Shrimpo: I think I miss my partner, Goob.

But he's not the only toon Shrimpo talks to.

Vee: "Geez. This crying is ruining your "tough guy" persona."

My sibling gave me the silly idea to have Shrimpo and Vee be "friends" in this bc Shrimp hates Dandy waaaaaaaaaay more after the Glisten incident. And Vee hates Dandy in general, so boom, situation friendship. However, Vee sucks at being a supportive friend.

And some silly stuff my friends requested. Shrimpo chucking Dandy into the stratosphere and Goob being Goob. Healing the world one crappy doodle at a time.

Thank you for looking at the dooles and mindless rant of a grown adult about a Roblox horror game for 9-year-olds. You're a real one. Have a good day broksies.

[kaliforniahigh]

Can you write about Noah and super short reader? I'm 4'11 🥺. Maybe he walks in on reader either climbing on the counter to reach something or standing on the counter looking for a snack. He starts keeping step stools in every room.

She wears his shirts like a dress with fishnets and doc martens on the regular.

Maybe they do the tiktok trend of 'showing my dog places they've never seen' but it's you being lifted by him to see above the fridge and other high places 😂

Ok, so a good while back I wrote about this exact same thought and someone made a drawing of Noah picking reader up so she can look over the fridge, but I can't find it for the life of me :((((( Anyways, I love this concept soo much!!!

Warnings: this is just fluff!

WC: 1.4k (a shortie, like the reader)

My requests are closed for now!

Noah has walked in on you climbing on things to reach somewhere or something way too many times. He's always made a mental note to keep a little step stool for you, to avoid the risks of you falling, but he actually never got around to it.

Deep down, he knows it's because he loves helping you. Loves thinking that you can rely on him to always do this one thing for you.

But, one day, he had to draw the line. You were cleaning his room, dusting the shelves and the frames he kept on the wall. The thing is, he hung them too high for you to reach, So, without thinking twice, you rolled his computer chair to where you needed it, and stepped on top of it.

You were humming some random tune under your breath, when you heard an alarmed voice behind you.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You got startled and felt the chair start to swivel and roll to the side, making you lose balance. Before you could fall to the floor, Noah was beside you, grabbing you by the hips and landing you on the ground safely.

"Oh my God! Why did you have to scare me?", you scolded him, giving him a little slap on the shoulder, trying to regain your composure after almost faceplanting on the floor.

"Why on earth would you stand on top of a rolling computer chair?", he questioned you, voice exasperated and eyes still wide from your almost accident.

"I was trying to clean the frames", you pointed to the various frames on the wall to get your point across.

"I saw that! But you need to be more careful. God knows what would've happened of I didn't catch you", he was still agitated, and that was agitating you.

"I would've been fine! I almost fell because YOU scared me!", you gestured with your hands, voice becoming a little louder.

Noah sighed out loud, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"Ok, maybe I shouldn't have startled you, but your idea was not the brightest", he tried to reason.

"I'm used to doing this. I've had to climb stuff my whole life to reach certain things", you turned around to resume your cleaning when Noah grabbed you by the hips.

"I'm sorry, ok? I don't mean to be a dick", he put both hands on your shoulder and started to massage them. "It's just that I worry about your well-being"

You relaxed into his touch, the tenseness leaving your body instantly.

"I know that. But the word is a very different place for someone who's 4'11''. You're 6'4'', things are way easier for you", you didn't mean to complain, but you did huff a little when you said this out of frustration.

"I know, I know", he pecked you on the lips. "I'm sorry, ok?", he looked you in the eyes, wanting you to know that he was being sincere.

"It's ok, I forgive you", you circled your arms around his middle and rested your cheek on his clothed chest. "I'm never standing on top of a rolling chair ever again".

"Not, you're not. Because I'm getting you a step stool instead", said and you whined.

"Noah, no. That's embarassing", you frowned at the ideia. You weren't a 12 year old anymore.

"What's more embarassing, a step stool, or going to the hospital, looking like a fool, because you fell from a chair?", he raised both of his eyebrows at you, as if to challenge you. You thought for a minute, but you knew he was right.

"Ok, you can get me a step stool. But it has to be foldable so I can hide it, and I won't step on it if people are watching", he smiled at your remarks, but actually impressed that you gave in so easily.

"I'll still grab things for you when I'm around", he put both hands on your back, rubbing them up and down.

"You better", you rested your head against him once again. "I'm tired of cleaning, you stressed me out. Let's go lay on the couch".

He laughed at your jab at him, but grabbed you by the hand, leading you out of the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind you.

"Let's go. I can grab you some snacks from the top shelf", you slapped him lightly on the back, as he expected, and his laugh only intensified. He couldn't see you you, but you were also sporting a big smile on your face.

"I want the Doritos"

Everything has been going well since you made your deal with Noah. The day after the almost accident, he went out and bought you the step stoll, and you've been biting your tongue to admit that it was actually a great decision.

One day, when you were laying on the couch, casually strolling on your phone, you heard Noah coming down the stairs. He was working on some songs on his computer - or that's you thought he was doing - and you usually left him alone for that.

He stood in front of you, and you looked at him over the top of your phone. He didn't say anything, but he had a smile on his face that you weren't sure if you liked. Locking you phone and dropping it on your lap, you asked:

"What?"

"I saw this trend on TikTok and I wanted to do it with you", he had an expression on his face that told you you might not like this.

"Noah, you don't even have TikTok"

"I have a TikTok", he said this a little lower, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

"You have a TikTok?"

"I do", he averted his gaze from you.

"Since when do you have a TikTok?", you asked. He was unbelivable.

"That's not important right now. Have you seen this trend where owners pick their dogs up to show them places they haven't seen before?"

"Yes, I have. It's adorable", you anwered and side-eyed him at the same time.

"I wanted to do it for you", he said and waited for your answer. You just looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Are you comparing me to a dog?", you deadpanned, and saw his expression change immediately.

"No, baby, of course not. I just thought it would be cute"

"Yeah", you hummed, as if in thought". "It would actually be cute", you agreed.

"So you'll let me do it?", he asked, but was already opening his camera app on his phone.

"Yeah, I will, But we won't post it", you said, getting uo from the couch.

"What do you want to see first?", he asked.

"The top of the fridge", you walked to the kitchen and he followed after you. You positioned yourself and Noah propped the phone on the wall behind the fridge, the phone sitting on top of it.

"Ok, so I'll grab you by the hips and lift you up", he instructed and you nodded.

He tried picking you up the first time, but you started giggling, remembering the dog videos you watched. The movent threw him off and you landed back on your feet.

"What's so funny?", he asked, looking at you.

"I'm just remembering the dog videos. They look so confused, it's so funny", you giggled once more.

"Ok, I'll try it again", he picked you up once more and you were finally able to see on top of the fridge. When you saw it though, you let out a big gasp.

"What is it?", Noah asked you.

"Oh my God, Noah. It's so dusty up in here. I need to clean this right now", you exclaimed, running your finger over the top and seeing the trail it left behind.

"You gotta show me other places right now, because our house is dirty and I didn't even know it", you said and made your way to the bathroom. "C'mon, you gotta show me the top of the bathroom's upper cabinet"

Noah didn't even know what to say, he just followed after you, with a smile on his face at how absolutely adorable you were.

So the day went by like this, him showing you the top part of places and you insisting you clean them. But he didn't let you use the step stool this time, adamant on holding you, using the excuse that he didn't go to the gym, so this was him working on his biceps.

You were more than happy to feel the tight grip of his big hands around your waist.

[gojoidyll]

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish who makes you squirm.

+18, smut, mdni, f!reader, a poor attempt at getting Johnny's speech pattern right (dont @ me, I'm not used to writing how he talks yet), etc.

Your friends continuously warned you not to get into a relationship with him. Especially considering the fact that he was your first boyfriend ever. You weren't allowed to date in high school, and you felt like you were babysitting the men in college any time they tried to hang out with you.

So, when you finally did land yourself your first boyfriend when you got out of college, of course, your friends worried about you.

Especially considering his reputation that your friends seemed intent on drilling into your head.

"He's a total player!"

"He'll drop you after you open your legs, girl!!"

"Listen, I've been with the men who play the field. Take it from me that this won't end well."

Despite their persistence, you ignored them. Telling them that you'll be alright.

Johnny Mactavish knew how to treat you right, and honestly, even if he was just dating you for the fun of it, you didn't care. You liked the attention he gave you. It was sweet. Endearing almost. Like you had a real boyfriend and weren't acting as a babysitter. He had a job (in the military), took care of his own bills, and didn't ask help from you at 3am for some stupid thing.

Truthfully, he always managed to get you to giggle and kick your feet like some school girl. It was embarrassing half the time.

Especially now...

"Your friends dinnae seem ta like me very much," Johnny said with a teasing grin. His breath tickled your skin as you shook your head at him.

"They just... haven't gotten used to you yet, is all," you managed to say between breaths as you felt his grip tighten on your hips so he could grind your clothed cunt against the bulge in his pants.

You both were in the backseat of his truck. His back on the cushioned seats as his legs bent at the knees to support your back so you could properly straddle his waist. Your hands rested gently against his stomach as you helped him grins your hips down. Your whole body squirming as you could feel the heat build up.

You whined when he bucked his hips up, and the way his chest rumbled from his laughter at your reactions made you keen.

"Feel good?"

You leaned down into him, the new position made your hole clench around nothing as you could feel your slick, wet folds rub against your fabric and against the bulge in his jeans.

"Y- yeah," your voice was wobbly as he quickened the pace, making it harder for you to talk.

"Kiss, kiss me," you managed to ask between shuttering moans, to which he obliged as he leant up a bit in the seat. His mouth easily slotting against your own. His mouth was hot, his tongue was hot, everywhere just so hot. You could feel a knot form in your lower belly. The pleasure spiking through the roof as you made a poor attempt to press down harder onto him. His bulge catching your bundle of nerves in just the right way that tipped you over the edge.

Johnny could feel how you went slack against him, your chest heaving hard as he slowed his pace and humped against you in almost lazy thrusts.

"Now that's a pretty face, wonder what you would look like with tears down your face sucking my cock though."

Tilting your head to look at him, you gave him a small smile, "want to see?"

The way he captured your lips again was the only answer you needed.

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TWELVE)

I'm sorry in advance for the angst, i promise you, they'll be fine lol! Next chapter will be very angsty as well (which ill post later tonight), but I promise you that after the next one, it will get better! <3 Just trust me lol

Sorry btw for the long update wait, I fell ill sadly. Just got a bit better, so immediately took the chance to update lol. Upcoming Thursday I'm getting surgery for a chronic illness I have, so i've written a few chapters in advance to give you some updates. Would you want me to upload them asap? or prefer it to be spread out more?

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 3.2K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, kissing, talking about feelings, angst

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

It was the morning of the Japanese Grand Prix, when you stood by the window of your hotel room, bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun, when the faint sound of a rattling door handle reached your ears. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing there was only one person it could be.

When you had checked in, you’d handed Oscar the spare keycard, giving him the freedom to visit whenever he wanted. It had become second nature, the quiet understanding between you two—no need for formalities.

As you continued to gaze out at the horizon, you felt a familiar warmth as two arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you into a gentle embrace. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and you heard his soft voice, warm like a summer breeze. "Hi," he whispered, the sound sending a ripple of comfort through you.

You leaned into his touch, feeling your heartbeat quicken, but in the best way. "Hello to you too," you whispered back, your voice almost lost in the quiet of the moment.

The scent of his cologne, something undeniably him, drifted over you as he shifted slightly, his lips brushing softly against your cheek. "I missed you today," he murmured, his breath warm on your skin, the tenderness in his voice making your chest tighten.

Turning slowly in his arms, you faced him, your eyes catching his as you looked up through your lashes, teasing a bit. "Oh? Did you now?" you replied, your hands moving to circle his waist, fingers idly tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah," he breathed softly, as though the admission was a weight he carried all day, now finally let go. His hand moved gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear with such care it made your heart flutter. His eyes flickered to your lips, lingering for a moment before lifting back to meet your gaze. There was a silent question in his eyes, one you had both answered many times before, but today, it felt different. Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and the world seemed to still.

His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, as if he was testing the waters, savoring the moment before fully sinking into it. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant, but filled with such tenderness that you felt your whole body tingle with warmth. He kissed you like he was rediscovering something he’d been longing for all day.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, your senses filled with nothing but him—the soft press of his lips, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his thumb gently caressed your jawline as he cradled your face in his hand. Every nerve in your body came alive, responding to the gentle way he moved against you, slow and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to cherish this moment.

You melted into him, one of your hands slipping up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. The kiss deepened ever so gradually, the gentleness of it leaving you breathless. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t filled with the electric tension of your earlier kisses—those had been urgent, as though you were afraid the moment might slip away. But this… this was different.

Oscar kissed you like you were precious, like he wanted to memorize every second. His lips moved against yours with a softness that made your heart ache in the best way. When his tongue finally brushed yours, it was slow, careful, an exploration rather than a demand, sending a wave of warmth flooding through you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into something more—a heady rush that made your knees feel weak. The kiss was languid, unhurried, each movement filled with an intimacy that spoke volumes, as if you were the only two people in the world.

When you finally pulled away, the air between you crackled with the quiet intensity of what had just passed. Oscar’s forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with your own, both of you a little dazed by the experience.

He blinked, as if coming back to reality, and a small, breathless laugh escaped his lips. "Wow," he murmured, his eyes soft and filled with something that made your heart skip a beat.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. "Yeah… wow indeed."

The moment stretched between you, neither of you in a rush to let it slip away, both basking in the afterglow of the kiss, hearts pounding, completely in sync.

Oscar absentmindedly twirled a lock of your hair around his finger as he spoke up, his voice still hoarse from your earlier kiss. "Since I can’t really take you out on a proper date… I was thinking we could maybe order room service tonight after the race," he suggested, his tone soft and tentative. "And, maybe watch a movie together? If you’re up for that?"

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at the thought. The smile that had been playing on your lips since the kiss only deepened. "That sounds perfect," you replied, your voice light but filled with affection.

Oscar smiled, leaning in to give you a soft, chaste kiss before pulling back. "We’ve got to head out in about 30 minutes, by the way. Lando’s meeting us in the lobby," he added, his eyes twinkling as he mentioned your brother.

"Right, sounds good," you responded, but hearing Lando’s name tugged at something in the back of your mind—something you still needed to tell Oscar. Taking a deep breath, you began, "Speaking of Lando…"

Oscar raised an eyebrow, settling himself on the edge of the bed as he looked at you curiously. "Hmm?"

You shifted slightly, scratching the back of your neck, feeling a flicker of nerves. "Well… Lando knows. About us, I mean. That we’re, you know… trying to give this a shot."

Oscar's expression softened immediately, and he reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin. "Okay," he said simply, his voice calm, encouraging you to continue.

You exhaled slowly, glad for the comfort of his touch. "We were having dinner yesterday, and you know how brothers can be. He just… knew I was hiding something. I didn’t want to lie to him, so I told him—about how I feel about you, and how we’re figuring things out, no labels or anything."

Oscar’s grip on your hand tightened, but it wasn’t in discomfort—it was reassurance. "It’s okay," he whispered, his voice so gentle it made the tension drain from your body.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands, the weight of his acceptance making you feel lighter. "You’re sure you don’t mind him knowing?" you asked cautiously, meeting his eyes again. "I know we agreed to keep things private, and I didn’t want to disappoint you…"

Before you could finish, Oscar gently pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you. "Of course I don’t mind," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "Honestly? If it were up to me, I would’ve called you my girlfriend already."

A soft sigh escaped you, the complexity of it all pressing down again. "It’s just… complicated, Osc," you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. "I know you feel that way," he replied, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh, his thumb stroking you with the same tenderness as before. "And that’s okay. I’ll wait for you—for as long as you need. Even if it takes years."

A single tear slipped down your cheek, the weight of his patience and love overwhelming you. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Oscar’s thumb gently wiped the tear from your face, his smile soft but unwavering. "Don’t be sorry, love," he said, his forehead coming to rest against yours, the warmth of his presence grounding you. "You’re here, with me, and that’s all that matters. Label or no label."

The sincerity in his words melted any remaining doubt, the comfort of his arms around you making you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

You made your way from to paddock to the garage as you saw Oscar's call pulling into the pit lane, making his way to his designated garage. Normally you looked forward to this moment, Oscar climbing out the car and having your little post race debrief.

This time it was different, it was time for the plan that was made. You leaned with your back against one of the walls near the entrance of the garage, looking at what was unfolding in front of your eyes. Ava was standing in the garage, close to Oscar's car, taking the headphones of her ears, fixing her way too beautiful hair.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, your brother Lando. When you turned around you saw him looking at you with a caring look on his face "You sure you want to see this?" he whispered, low enough that only you would be able to hear.

You swallowed, hard. You shook your head "No, but I don't really have a choice, do I?" you replied, sighing softly "I'm always here after the race, it would be a bit unusual if I'm suddenly not there"

Lando agreed wordlessly with you, squeezing your shoulder "You struggling more with this plan every day, aren't you?"

You nodded, your hands fiddling with the hem of your McLaren team shirt "Yeah, but I'll be fine. I'll get over it"

Lando tried to keep talking to you, tried to keep you distracted so you wouldn't see the whole happening, the stupid media plan, but he saw the ways your eyes shifted to Oscar as he climbed out of the car, taking of his helmet. Lando noticed how you were watching Oscar making his way over to Ava, gently grabbing her hand, squeezing it softly. Purposefully making it seem as if he was trying to avoid the camera, while he made sure the cameras were pointed at him.

Ava send Oscar a smile, she looked genuinely taken away by how good Oscar looked getting out the car. Everything in you hoped it was just proving how good of an actress she was, but somewhere in you you were scared. She was pretty, in your opinion way prettier than you.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, a pang of jealousy stinging in your heart as you saw Oscar leaning down a little, pressing his lips to Ava's cheek, before moving his lips to her ear, clearly whispering something in her ear, something you couldn't decipher.

You felt yourself drowning in feelings you couldn't explain. You felt hurt, even though you knew this was totally planned & not Oscar's choice. It wasn't much, nothing more than a kiss on his cheek, but you wanted it to be you.

You wanted to be the one in his arms after the races, and not just being his behind closed doors. That's when you realized, you wanted to be his, and not in the way you were now. You wanted to be his girlfriend, something you could ethically never be.

You felts tears pricking in the corner or your eyes, as you turned on your heels "I-I can't do this" you stuttered to your brother, trying to rush off.

Lando grabbed your arm "Y/n.. don't go.. I want to be there for you, but you know I can't leave now" he uttered.

You knew he couldn't leave, since he still had some obligations he had to do, so you definitely didn't blame him in any way, but you just couldn't stay here any longer.

"It's fine, Lan. I-I.. I just gotta get out of here"

With those words you rushed out of the garage, making your way to somewhere quiet, leaving Lando dumbfounded in the garage, watching as Oscar made his way over to him.

Oscar looked in the direction you were walking, his eyes shifting back to Landon "Where is she going?" he asked, his voice a little timid.

"She had to.." Lando started, trying to come up with a lame excuse, not wanting to snitch on his own sister "meet up with someone from the medical team, something unexpected came up"

Oscar was a bit skeptical, but seemed to buy it. He wanted to speak up, asking Lando when she'd come back, but was cut off by the feelings of a hand grabbing his upper arm, specifically Ava's hand.

"Hey" Ava greeted to Lando.

"Hi" Lando spoke, a bit stoic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It wasn't as if he disliked Ava as a person, after all, she was just doing what was told, but he just didn't like to see his sister this way.

She looked up as Oscar, giving him a small side hug, so she could whisper something "I think that was enough for the camera's, I'll be in the hospitality when you need me"

"Y-Yeah.." Oscar whispered, awkwardly hugging her back "Sure, I'll see you later"

Lando shot Oscar a knowing look as Ava disappeared from their sight, leaving the boys alone again. Oscar threw his hands up in the air "Please, don't even say anything" he whined desperately.

Oscar sighed again "Did she see it?" he asked, carefully.

Lando nodded, pursing his lips together "Oh, yeah, she definitely did"

Oscar felt himself freeze. His chest tightening, his voice quivering "Honestly, I don't think I can do this". The whole PR thing, I hate it""

Lando sighed, resting against the wall "Then why did you agree?" he asked.

Oscar looked around him, making sure no one would be able to eaves drop on their conversation "I didn't want her career to get screwed over because I couldn't keep my feelings in check"

Lando took a step forwards, moving closer to Oscar's ear to make sure he could whisper his next words soft enough "I honestly think this is destroying her as a person more, than you two going public would destroy her career"

It had been that same day, that Oscar had decided he couldn't do this. He didn't want to and he was going to talk to Zak about it. Tell him that he was to socially awkward for this, that he didn't feel comfortable. He wanted to say that he could come up with a statement explaining what exactly had happened between the mystery woman and him when those pictures of the two of you had leaked.

Though it seemed that luck hadn't been on his side. Every time he even got close to talking about it, something else came in the way. If it wasn't Zak, it was someone from the media team. All in all it had been over two weeks and he still hadn't spoken to Zak about it.

It ate him up inside, but instead of talking about it, he did what he always did. Pushing it away. Pretending like it didn't bother him. Convincing himself that he could do this for you, to protect you. Because that was what it all seemed to be about for him, protecting you from the media.

Every time he had confronted you about it, asked if you were still okay with it, you had lied to him that you didn't struggle with it. Trying to convince both him and yourself that it did you nothing. Oscar could sense that you were lying, but didn't want to press too much.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

A few race weekends had passed since the whole PR stunt began, and you found yourself lounging on Daniel’s bed, playing video games with him. You and Daniel had always shared a close friendship—he was like a brother to you. Lately, since everything started with Lando and him, your bond with Daniel had only strengthened.

Today, as with so many days before, you’d turned to him for advice. Letting out a deep sigh, you shifted your gaze to the ceiling. “I think I might need to end things with Oscar.”

Daniel mirrored your sigh, understanding the weight of your words. “It’s getting to be too much, isn’t it?” he replied gently.

Your breath caught for a moment; he’d hit the nail on the head. You had spent weekend after weekend watching the guy you loved cozy up to someone else. You knew it was staged, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was taking a toll on your mental health.

“Yeah, something like that,” you muttered, fiddling with the controller in your hands. “I just don’t think I can keep this up much longer.”

“Why not?” he asked softly, careful not to press too hard, just enough to let you get it all out.

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m completely in love with him. That’s not the issue. It just hurts seeing him with someone else, even if it’s all for show. I know the whole thing will wrap up in a month, but it’s not like everything magically fixes itself after that,” you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve been sneaking around with Oscar for weeks, lying to everyone but you and Lando. The grid knows the PR relationship is fake, but they don’t know about me and Oscar. And even after the stunt is over, I’ll still have to hide everything. I can’t share photos, go on dates in public, or even hold his hand.”

Daniel’s expression softened as he listened, searching for the right words to comfort you, but nothing seemed quite enough.

You looked over at him, a tear forming in the corner of your eye, threatening to fall. Pressing your lips together, you tried to keep your composure. “It’s just… Oscar and I can’t ever be official. They wouldn’t have started this whole PR stunt if it were okay for us to be together. As much as I love my job, I regret taking it sometimes. If I’d chosen something else, maybe I wouldn’t be in such a difficult position.”

“If you hadn’t taken the job, you and Oscar might never have admitted your feelings in the first place,” Daniel pointed out gently, turning on his side to face you. “And they only started the PR thing because you two hooked up at that nightclub. It would’ve looked unprofessional if it was just a one-time thing. But it’s not; you love each other. Honestly, I don’t think anyone would be against you and Oscar being together. You two are practically made for each other.”

“I don’t know… it’s just so complicated, and there are so many ‘what ifs,’” you replied, more to convince yourself than anyone else. “Besides, we don’t even know if things would work out if we made it official. What if it all falls apart?”

“You need to talk to him,” Daniel urged. “Tell him how you feel about this. Don't give up on something magical. Don’t break things off just because it seems complicated. All paths lead to Rome, little Norris.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

After your conversation with Daniel, you’d finally made up your mind. You were done hiding, done sneaking around in the shadows. You wanted to be with Oscar—fully, openly, without pretense. The decision had settled inside you with a reassuring certainty, and today was the day you’d tell him. The plan seemed clear: head to his driver’s room after qualifying, catch him before he left for the hotel, and let him know how you felt.

Heart pounding with nervous excitement, you navigated the bustling hallways, each step drawing you closer to Oscar. You could still hear the faint echoes of post-qualifying chatter and laughter from nearby rooms, mechanics and drivers cooling off from the adrenaline. Reaching Oscar’s door, you lifted your hand to knock—only to notice that the door was slightly ajar, just enough to offer a sliver of the room within.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned closer, peering through the narrow opening. There he was—Oscar, standing close to Ava, his hands resting gently on her hips. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Your breath hitched, freezing you in place as the scene unfolded. For a moment, your mind scrambled, searching for any explanation. But as her lips pressed deeper against his and their kiss grew more intimate, the truth hit hard and fast.

You tried to look away, tried to step back, but it was like your feet were cemented to the floor, your heart dropping with every second that passed. Silent tears began to slip down your cheeks as you watched. Oscar still hadn’t noticed you—but Ava’s gaze flicked briefly in your direction, a glint of awareness in her eyes. She saw you there, knew you were watching, and her hand moved up to cradle the back of Oscar’s neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, almost as if she were putting on a show.

The shock held you captive for a moment longer, but the pain soon snapped you free. Stumbling back, you turned on your heel and hurried down the corridor, every step growing faster until you were practically running. The people passing by shot you curious glances, but you couldn’t care less. You just needed to get away, far from the image now seared into your mind.

Blinking back more tears, you found yourself searching for the one person who might understand. You spotted Lando in the paddock, looking relaxed as he chatted with a couple of engineers. Noticing your approach, his smile faded, concern flashing across his face.

You came to a stop in front of him, breathless and barely holding back the sob that threatened to spill. “Lando…” you choked out, struggling to keep your voice steady.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His expression turned serious, his voice gentle as he pulled you into a hug.

You swallowed hard, the words coming out in fragments, voice as soft as a whisper. “I thought… I thought he was mine, but… he was with her. I saw them… kissing.”

The realization dawned in Lando’s eyes as he pulled away from the hug, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t need to say much more; he understood. With a quiet nod, he guided you away from the bustling paddock, giving you the space to let the tears flow freely.

"I am going to kill the asshole.." he mumbled, the anger in his tone evident.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor @sugakookie132

[summermoa-ns]

.・。.・゜✭・Smart Mouth・✫・゜・。.

NSFW (18+ ONLY) MDNI

academic rival!taehyun x fem!reader

content warnings: drinking, drunk sex, unprotected sex, pet names (pretty girl, baby), small mentions of smoking/weed, slightly condescending Taehyun, fucking until ur dumb lol, if i missed anything else pls lmk!!

author's note: i've been on-and-off working on this fic until i started hating it! just needed to get it out of my system so i can finally work on other stuff! also i didn't really edit this, so sorry for any typos or grammar errors

song inspos: You Lose! By Magdelena Bay; Cologne by beabadooobee

“Hey… Y/n? Maybe you should slow down a little bit?” Yeonjun furrows his brows in concern as he watches you down your third shot in the last 10 minutes. 

Yeonjun’s worries fall on deaf ears as you suck the lime between your teeth. You just need something to fog your mind, to haze the racing thoughts and anger that swarms inside you. Something to distract you from the shitty day you just had. The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to heed Yeonjun’s advice, but you’re not at this party to be smart and logical like you usually are. You are at this party to make bad decisions: to make up for the time you wasted chasing after something, and having it ripped away from you anyway. 

Usually, you’re not at these types of parties. Usually, you spend your free time in front of a laptop, coding for your lab. Or maybe burning your retinas as you stare holes through research journals, looking for articles to cite. Maybe even clocking in overtime hours, proctoring experiments that you were begged to cover last minute.  Day in and day out, you give everything to your lab, and yet they decide to go with him? After doing everything the PhD students and postdocs ask of you– for three fucking years– they give the head coordinator position to him? And now here you are fucking thinking about your lab even though the whole point of being at this dumb party is to not think about it and-

Yeonjun’s soju bottle hitting the table snaps you back into reality. 

After his swig, he waves a hand in front of your face, “Aye, you still here?” Yeonjun’s fingers blur and distort as they move in front of you. The blasting music and sounds of people socializing blend into a slurry. Shit, those shots are finally hitting.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the words fumbling over themselves as they exit your mouth. You rub the palm of your hand into your forehead, turning to look as Beomgyu greets someone at the front door. 

Your stomach drops when you see who comes through the door. Everything seems to slow down and unravel as the tall figure entering the house does some stupid dude-bro handshake with Beomgyu. His chocolate brown hair, his lean figure, his twinkly eyes: you could recognize him from miles away. The heat rising in you is sobering; it blisters in your lungs as you stare at him from across the house. The last 24 hours come crashing down on your shoulders again.

Yeonjun looks over to what has captured your attention and his eyes widen. “Ah fuck!” 

“Jun,” you slowly turn towards your fox-eyed dumbass of a friend, “I thought you said you double-checked with Gyu to make sure he wasn’t coming tonight.”

“I did, Y/n! I swear on my life!”

“Then why are we staring at the Kang Taehyun in your living room?”

Yeonjun runs his hand through his hair, huffing out his answer, “I don’t know! Maybe he changed his mind?”

You look over at Taehyun’s direction again, and your eyes meet. Your heartbeat quickens. His eyes squint, not hiding how he has spotted you. Fuck. You don’t even have time to process and suddenly Taehyun is standing across the kitchen island from you and Yeonjun. 

He leans forward and whispers to you, “Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here~” 

It’s amazing how you could see straight after how hard you rolled your eyes at him. The chocolate-haired boy chuckles in response. Taehyun greets Yeonjun who makes it brief. He may be a little dense, but even Yeonjun knows not to get too chummy with the bastard you were talking shit about all evening. 

“I was just about to leave, actually!” You begin getting up when a firm pair of hands push your shoulders back into the stool.

You turn in shock and see Beomgyu pouting at you, “Y/n~ you never hang out with us anymore. Can you just stay a little longer?” He whines, but you hear a hint of mischief in his voice. 

You try to protest, but before you can utter a sound Beomgyu interrupts, “Plus, you still owe me from that time you promised to treat me out on my birthday… and NEVER did…”

Fuck. You totally forgot about that. You look at Beomgyu and he gives you the biggest, pleading puppy-dog eyes. An irritated sigh escapes your teeth. “Fine.”

Taehyun is already opening the soju bottle with ease. He smiles as he pours a shot for himself, “Uh oh, Beomgyu! You made the pretty girl mad!”

God, he pisses you off. 

Taehyun, the golden boy: good merits with all his peers and professors, at the top of everything he does. When you both joined your psychology lab, it honestly was nice at first. You grew pretty close being in the same cohort. You both seemed driven and, as first-years, shared a lot of interests and hobbies. The only difference between you being Taehyun’s natural ability to succeed. In the beginning, you didn’t notice. Every class, every test, every paper: Taehyun aced with flying colors, while you chased after him, just out of his reach. But it was fine because you were friends. Taehyun would smile, ruffle your hair, and say “maybe next time”. 

But there was never a next time. Even in the middle of your final year at uni, Taehyun has topped you every single time. Though the rest of the department sees your rivalry as light-hearted and playful, a darkness grew underneath it all. Frustration. Anxiety. Jealousy. As the gap between your abilities became more and more apparent,  his “kind�� remarks began to sting more and more. The more he teased you, the more tired you became of his patronizing nature. Eventually, you pushed him away.  

No longer stuck in your ruminations, you catch yourself staring as Taehyun pours a giddy Yeonjun and Beomgyu a shot. He tilts the bottle towards you, “Do you want one?”

Yeonjun starts talking before you say anything, “I think it’s better if she sits this one ou-”. You place your shot glass in front of Taehyun before Yeonjun can finish.

“I can handle myself.”

Beomgyu giggles, wrapping an arm around you, “See, I missed you!! Still as bitchy and smart-mouthed as ever!”

Taehyun cocks his eyebrow at you, “I missed that too.” He pours the shot to the brim.

—

Due to spite, you feel extra pissy today. Or maybe it’s because Taehyun has made it a point to hover wherever you are in this damn house. You want to watch the beer pong tournament happening in the backyard? There’s Taehyun wanting to join suddenly. You want to take some mirror selfies with Sakura in the hallway mirror? Taehyun is posing in the background of some of your pics! You want to pass a joint with Heesung and chill on the upstairs balcony? Taehyun just decides he wants a couple of hits too! 

You finally get some peace and quiet by wandering to one of the empty rooms on the second floor. You sit down by the foot of the bed.

You feel defeated, for some odd reason. The whole goal of tonight was to get Taehyun off your mind, and yet he’s creeped into every crevice in your brain, invading every thought. How he downs shots exposes his pretty neck, how his eyes brighten when he smiles for pictures, how soft and big his hands are when you hand him a joint… Ugh. You mentally smack those images out of your head.

There’s a little secret you would take to your grave: the main thing that pisses you off about Taehyun is that he is drop dead gorgeous. It’s just all too unfair. A person can’t be insanely smart and look like an S-tier model. There really should be rules about that. But it’s evident God has favorites, and Taehyun is one of them. Being cross-faded also hasn’t helped with these thoughts. You feel floaty and a bit too…vulnerable. Like everything is threatening to burst from your chest.

The light from the hallway lights up the room for a second as the door opens. It’s the last person you want to see. 

“Taehyun, please. Just leave me alone,” you sigh, not bothering to hide your irritation.

He scoffs, “Happy to see you too,” He closes the door behind him and leans against it.

As you both soak in the silence you can’t help but grow confused by his persistence. How does he just keep popping up everywhere?

“Is there a reason you’ve been following me tonight?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking abou-“ You stand up and get in his face before Taehyun can finish his sentence: just close enough to smell the alcohol on his lips. 

“I’m not stupid, Tae. So please, just tell me what you want.”

He raises his arms up, “Okay, okay. You got me. I’ve just been trying to find a moment to talk: in private.” 

He takes a deep breath. He leans into the door harder, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Why are you acting like this?”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “Huh?”

“Y/n, you never come to these types of things. I’ve invited you to them plenty of times,” he continues, “then out of the blue, you come with Jun of all people.”

“I know I’m a shut-in, but I’m allowed to have fun every once in a while.” God, how many times is he going to make you roll your eyes tonight?

His face grimaces with an emotion you’re not familiar with, “I’m not saying that. You just never want to…”

You impatiently cut off his sentence, getting closer to him by the doorway. “Want to what?!” 

“You never want to go out with me. You never want to hang out with me. You basically avoid me all the fucking time.”

Taehyun’s arms fall loosely to his sides, “I just don’t get why you hate me so much.” You look up at his face and are hit with a pang of guilt. Is he… actually sad right now?

“I never said I hated you.”

“I can’t help but feel that way. You never talk to me anymore.” 

In the quiet you realize how little space there is between you two. The atmosphere feels dangerous, heavy, and hot. You catch Taehyun sneaking a glance at your lips. You’re scared to see where this goes, scared of breaking the tension.

You bite down, wanting to flee from the guilt and shame bubbling in your stomach. You take Taehyun’s hand and try to pull him off the door to make your escape, but he flips you both. Now you’re pinned in between the door and Taehyun.

“Stop running from me, please.” 

His voice is warm and dark and weak like a dying bonfire. Your body shudders in response. His arm is slammed next to you, propping his body up so he can lean over you. “I’m so tired of chasing after you.” 

He says it so quietly into your ear, you almost convince yourself that you must have misheard him. The only thing that grounds your conviction that you heard correctly is how Taehyun’s free hand softly grips the hair on the back of your head, how his face finds solace in the crook of your neck, how gently his breath grazes that sensitive part of your skin. Suddenly your body feels like it’s on fire, and you’re not sure if you can handle it.

“Tae,” you breathe out softly. “Wait…,” but your objection is only met with the alcoholic heat of Taehyun’s lips. He tastes like the bitter aftertaste of lychee soju and mint chapstick and it knocks the air out of you. You buckle under his weight, instinctively gripping at his shirt for support. He is needy and gasping and crumbling in your hands: a complete 180 from the Taehyun you’re used to.

You manage to separate yourselves, both of your lips bruised and wet. “Tae, wait please!” To your surprise, he listens, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s trying hard to restrain himself. 

“You’re drunk!” You push against him, trying to make more space between you two, but to no avail. “Y-you’re really fucking drunk, and not thinking straight. Let’s not do anything we’ll…” You swallow as you catch a glimpse of Taehyun’s lips, “... regret.”

Taehyun cups your face in his hands and looks at you with so much clarity despite all of the alcohol in his veins. The abrupt roughness of the earlier kiss is contrasted by how gently he holds you. The gravity of his stare lingers in the air for a second until he finally answers.

“I’ll only regret it if you end up regretting it. So tell me clearly that you want me to stop.”

“Wha–?”

“I want you to say it. As clear as day. I’ll give you until the count of three: just tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop. Otherwise,” he puts his forehead against yours, “I’ll keep doing what I want.”

He starts. “One…”

The room is still and quiet except for your heart knocking against the door, drowning out the muffled music from outside. This should be easy, you think, you just need to tell Taehyun to stop. You say stop, Taehyun stops: simple, logical cause and effect. But despite those thoughts rolling into your brain, something primal in you holds your tongue. The way Taehyun’s woody cologne sticks to your clothes and the desperate way he’s panting after that first kiss makes you ache for more. The way his sculpted body feels under your palms and the way you can tell he’s undressing you with his eyes is all too intoxicating.

“... two…”

Your breathing is in sync with him. Taehyun is holding onto every little sound you make as he finds his way nuzzling back into your neck. He fully leans into you and you feel how hard he is. Your breath hitches and you feel him smile against your skin; his hot length twitches from inside his jeans. It excites you how he responds to your tiniest reactions. Curious to test the waters, you slightly grind against him which earns you a small, restrained groan from his lips. You want to hear him more, want to feel him more. It’s against your better judgment…. 

But remember? You’re not here to be smart: you’re here to make bad decisions.

Taehyun doesn’t even get to three before you crash your lips into his. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the opportunity to feel you up as you both blindly stumble to the edge of the bed, not daring to break the kiss as you straddle him. You feel Taehyun impatiently pull at the bottom of your blouse, you smile and untangle yourself from him in response, letting him take off your top. He also takes this time to rip his shirt off of him, and damn: built like a damn Greek statue, carved and polished to perfection. You could have stared at him all night if he didn’t flip you underneath him.

Hovering over you, Taehyun takes a moment to take in the view. His hand traces over the edge of your lace panties. “Wow, did you wear these just for me?” 

You prop yourself up to kiss Taehyun’s cheek. “No,” you playfully pout at him, “but I’m letting you take them off of me. So be thankful.”

He chuckles at your snide comment, “God, I love it when you talk like that.”

Taehyun starts leaving a blazing trail of kisses, saliva, and bites down your neck, taking some time to leave some blooming hickeys around your collarbone. He gets to your chest and while he marks his territory, he reaches underneath you and unclasps your bra. You have no time to marvel at his mastery when you gasp at his tongue swirling around your nipple. His hand makes quick work of your body, gripping and massaging your other breast, lightly pinching your other bud in between his index and thumb. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy, softly sighing. Taehyun takes his time; his mouth switching between your breasts indiscriminately and occasionally taking a break to kiss the valley in between them. While you squirm under his touch, you feel your wet core ache for more. 

“Taehyun…” you whine.

He looks up at you while swirling his tongue around one of your buds. He hums in a questioning tone, refusing to let his mouth leave your body. 

“Taehyun please…need more of you…”

He finally pauses and his smile wickedly spreads across his face, “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“Mouth… please. Can I have your mouth please?”

You feel the heat of Taehyun leave your chest as he gets up to quickly strip your panties off of you. You hold your breath when you feel the chill of the room hit you; everything, everywhere is aching. You just want him to touch you, to taste you. It isn’t until you feel the grip of Taehyun’s strong hands around your thighs and the plump soreness of his lips on your hot core that your breath hitches. 

You grip Taehyun's hair while he pulls you full force to his face. How his tongue laps into you, how he switches to intensely sucking on your clit, how he pants as he places the wettest kisses against your inner thighs. The rhythm of his tongue puts you in a trance as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Taehyun absolutely loves giving head. He has had his fair share of partners, so his palette is pretty… experienced. But something about you was so addicting. He thought you tasted like heaven; a flavor so delicious, he could imagine savoring it every night and morning. He could keep your thighs clamped around his face all night if you would let him. 

This entire time Taehyun has been pushing you further and further to your bliss. Your body threatens to unravel with every swirl from Taehyun’s tongue, but never quite reaching the tip. However, it all comes crashing down and the coil in your stomach finally snaps the minute he pushes two fingers deep in you. The sounds that escape you are unholy and all you see is white as Taehyun brings you past your orgasm, overstimulating you.

“God, baby, you’re so wet for me already. I was able to fit my fingers in so easily,” he smiles triumphantly at his soaked hand, “Where’s that smart mouth from earlier, huh?”

You whine, riding your drunken high as you grind on his hand. Your walls pulse around him as he thrusts his fingers rhythmically. Happily smiling to himself, he returns his lips to their rightful home: in between your legs, lightly lapping at your clit. Taehyun is having way too much fun now. Your reactions? Your sounds? Your body? Complete, utter perfection. It’s taking every bit of his self-control to not whip out his dick and slam it into your dripping cunt. Every whimper and moan that comes from you makes his cock throb like crazy. 

It’s certain everyone in the hallway knows the room is currently “occupied” even over the blaring music. You’re too lost in all the sensations running through your system to care about your volume. Then, you feel Taehyun’s fingers curl into that magic spot: the spot you can never quite reach by yourself. The spot that usually needs the help of toys and vibes. Still coming down from the crash of your previous orgasm, you instinctively push away from Taehyun’s hand, almost scared of feeling any more pleasure. But this reaction doesn’t escape the devious eyes of the boy in between your legs. 

Taehyun pauses his movements and asks from below, “Can’t take anymore, baby?” His stare softens a bit as he kisses around your thighs.

You’re conflicted; you don’t want this moment to stop, but feel like you might melt into the sheets if you continue. A small whisper leaves your lips, “I-I think I can, it’s… it’s just a lot all at once.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, “but you can take it for me, right?” Before you can answer, his fingers curl up and hit the spot once more. Again, you feel the heat in your lower stomach release and those aching waves envelope your body, even more powerful than last time. You blink away tears from your eyes, digging your nails into Taehyun’s shoulders as you scream out his name. 

Taehyun continues cleaning the honey dripping out of you with his tongue, his cock twitching every time you whimper out a plea for him to fuck you already. Now that you’re ready for him, Taehyun doesn't have to hold back anymore. He tries to hide how eagerly he is stripping off his pants, but you can still tell in your tipsy haze that he is brimming with enthusiasm. However, Taehyun stops as he hovers over you.

“Last chance to back out now, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, “You’re not fucking going anywhere.”

He rubs the tip of his cock along your entrance. He wets his lips, amused by your answer, “Fair enough.”

Even with proper preparation, the stretch is enough to make you arch your back. Taehyun grips the sheets– his knuckles turning white– until he bottoms out inside you. You grip into his back, pulling him flush against you. His brows are furrowed in complete concentration as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You both stay there for a second, steadying your breaths.

After what feels like an eternity, you adjust to Taehyun’s length and feel ready. However, Taehyun stays still, unmoving.

“Tae… you can move now,” You say, pushing your hips against to demonstrate your willingness.

Taehyun groans, “I know, baby… you just–,” he nearly whimpers, “you just feel really good. Give me a sec…”

A sense of pride swells in your chest. The usually measured, deliberate Kang Taehyun has become a mess just from slipping it in. A coy smile spreads across your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer.

“Aww, is someone struggling right now? Did I make you feel too good?”

Silence. You feel a slight shift in the air that makes you shiver. Silence. Until Taehyun lifts his chest off of you– pulling back his hips– and looks down at you. His stare makes your blood run cold. One of his hands grips onto the headboard, making him hover you. Taehyun snaps a hard thrust back into you, making you moan in surprise.

“I see that smart mouth I love so much is back,” he icily smiles down, “and I’m going to fuck it out of you.”

There’s no warning, no precaution, as Taehyun brutally begins fucking you into the mattress. He grips the headboard, causing it to knock against the wall in a frantic rhythm. Taehyun’s hips piston into you as you claw into the pillow you lay your head on. With every thrust, you feel yourself clamp around Taehyun’s cock, your mouth agape from the sheer pleasure coursing through you. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take all of me,” Taehyun breathes into your neck before taking a long lick along your throat. “How does it feel? Feels good?”

You can’t even form words, you feel like a mindless doll as you frantically nod at Taehyun’s question. You feel him pulse inside you as he flashes you a cocky smile. His hand leaves the headboard, moving so both hands grip into your hips, allowing for more leverage. 

“Bet it fucking does. Fucking you so dumb, you can’t even talk,” He punctuates each word by slamming his full length into you, making you see stars.

With Taehyun’s constant teasing and unruly speed, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your next orgasm peeking from behind the horizon. Your hands reach down, cupping over Taehyun’s on your hips.

You don’t even have to say anything, you look into Taehyun’s eyes and he just knows. Taehyun grabs your knees and pushes them down towards your chest, leaning into you for a searing kiss; it’s filthy and lustful and pushes you right over the edge towards your release. You let out a low moan into Taehyun’s mouth, your walls fluttering around his dick. With that, Taehyun’s force becomes more erratic as he chases his own high. He pulls away from your kiss and starts nipping at your ear. His breathing becomes more shallow and quick each time your hips meet, little sounds escaping his plump lips.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum in this pretty pussy,” he growls.

A final push and Taehyun stills inside you, releasing a few hot pumps, until he begins to soften. When he pulls out, you can feel the mixture of your arousals spill out of your fucked-out pussy. Taehyun plops down next to you, both of you still coming down from your respective highs. The silence is broken by Taehyun chuckling, pulling you into his arms.

“Yeonjun is going to be so fucking pissed at me,” he laughed. 

You looked up at him in confusion, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Because this is definitely his room.”

Your eyes dart around the room: signed concert posters of bands you recognized on the wall, a closet full of stylish clothes, the bluetooth speaker he always brought to dance practice. Fuck. This was totally Yeonjun’s room.

Your hands shoot up to cover your face, groaning, thinking about how Yeonjun would scold you for getting his bed “dirty”. But your panic subsides as Taehyun presses his lips into your check, giving you a quick peck.

“Ehh, I’m sure it’ll be fine…,” Taehyun hums, flashing you that same cocky smile, “we can talk our way out of it.”

You snuggle into his chest, Taehyun’s smile no longer causing bitterness and resentment to flood your thoughts, but something much warmer… 

“...This is what he gets for not warning me about you coming to the party.”

“Okay… maybe don’t start running that smart mouth next time we see him. I’ll do all the talking, alright?”

[puremyst]

Boyfriend!Geto had just gotten back from a mission and immediately went to his dorm and shut the door. You had been concerned for a while about your boyfriend.

After the star plasma vessel mission a few months ago, he seemed off?- No that wasn't nearly a strong enough word, it was like his soul fell off the earth and his body was mindlessly acting. Although you knew it wasn't mindless, he was clearly distressed, as if his whole belief system had crumbled and it began to concern you.

It was midnight and you were tossing and turning in your bed. You couldn't stop thinking about Geto. What the hell happened to him? You thought as your body slipped out of you room.

You padded towards his room, stopping before the door to take a deep breath. After knocking softly, a dishevelled figure opened the door. The darkness was heavy but in the moonlight you noticed his visible eye bags and his tangled hair.

"I hope I didn't wake you up. I just wanted to talk for a little." You muttered.

"Nah, I wasn't sleeping." Geto said, his deep voice still sounded like silk, despite not seeing him for a while.

"Can I come in for a little?" You asked, shifting around in the cold, night air.

"Yea sure." He opened the door slightly to allow you to step through. You walked over and sat on his bed, Geto laid down next to you.

"Nice night huh?" He mumbled, turning his body to face you.

"Yea, kinda cold though." You moved to lay down next to him, his raven hair brushing against you cheek. "Look, Suguru, we really need to talk, I'm super worried about you."

"Huh? Why?"

"I know you said not to talk about it, but ever since that mission a few months ago, you've changed." You turned your head towards him.

"Is it that noticable? I mean I've kinda been struggling." He muttered that last part.

"I know, and I don't know what happened and will never understand the pain you went through, but I want you to be okay." You moved your hand to cup his cheek. Geto sighed.

"I'm okay, don't worry." He sat up.

"No your not, I can see it in your eyes. Suguru, please, just talk to me." You sat up with him and wrapped you arms around your boyfriend.

Geto sighed again, this time a lighter one. "Can we just lay here? I haven't seen you." He laid back down, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close to his warm body.

"Yea, that's fine. But I want you to know that it's enough that your here with me. I love you."

You heard Geto sniffle and small tears fell onto your shoulder. "I love you too."

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief.  And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me.  And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed.  Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.)  Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences.  Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are.  I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington.  And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll. 

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!